“Well, eat up, then get ready to face what looks to be a hostile welcome,” Dimitara said. She had looked worn down for the last few days, but she lifted her head and drew in a breath, and Dray realized she looked fierce. “I received a message from Rose McKenzie this morning. She thanked me for leading this team. And it reminded me all over again what I found in Sazo's Class 5 holding cells. The death and destruction. You're right, Yolandi. They should have known, and I'm damn sure some of them did. So we do not cower, and we do not bend in the face of their unhappiness. They broke the most sacred rule we have, and they need to accept the consequences.”
Dimitara's voice rose as she spoke, and Dray realized everyone in the dining hall had heard her. Every eye was on her.
Including the Tecran liaison's, Vauk.
Dray watched her turn away and hurry out.
But there was no place to run.
The UC team was arriving in Tecra, and he had a feeling in his gut that this was going to be a lot less cordial than the councilors representing the five member groups had thought it would be when they created this alternative to war.
He shook off his foreboding and made his way to his rooms to pack. Grihan Battle Center had been a lot more realistic about this mission than the UC. They'd discussed the likelihood of things not going as planned. Dray had a list of possible scenarios and he could and would alert his superiors if any of them looked likely.
They'd be ready if the Tecran realized they really couldn't accept UC rule.
And so would he.
Chapter 9
The sun set early.
Lucy shivered against another gust of freezing wind that ripped through the narrow back alleys, but it was even colder closer to the cliffs.
She'd zigzagged her way across the city as the day wore on, taking the narrow alleyways, cutting across from street to street, always moving.
She tested doors as she went, finding them all locked.
She could only hope there wasn't some kind of video surveillance, or the police would be looking for a suspicious person who was trying doors all over the city.
She realized with a start she didn't even know what the city was called, and then shoved the thought aside.
What did it matter right now?
Suddenly, the wind cut off, and she blinked, saw that in keeping close to the wall of the building she was walking past, she'd found a little pocket of protection.
Unable to face the sting of cold on her cheeks again, she huddled in closer, closed her eyes and felt the seep of tears behind her eyelids as her whole body shuddered in relief.
Just a few minutes, she told herself.
Just a few minutes of not moving, of not being cold.
She didn't know when she heard the sound of footsteps, but not soon enough, because they were almost upon her.
She tensed, unable to see who was coming past the curve in the building that was giving her shelter, but suddenly she was looking at the back of a Tecran carrying an armful of parcels.
He didn't slow down or so much as look her way.
She dismissed him, glad for the deep shadows and her cloak. She'd encountered very few people in the back alleys, but those she had passed had barely looked at her.
She was smaller than them and obviously no threat. And the cloak, something she'd found reminiscent of tragic family sagas set on moors or highway robbers in Regency England--although, come to think of it, also Darth Vader--appeared to be standard dress. It wasn't just the outfit on the massive statue in the square, most people wore one when they were walking out of doors and she wasn't going to complain.
It suited her needs perfectly. It hid her face, her hands, and her body.
A curse snapped her out of her thoughts, and she realized she'd been drifting, not paying attention again. The parcel-carrier was swearing softly as he stood at the back door of the building she was leaning against, fiddling with his access card.
It was similar to the one Farnn had given her at the facility, and eventually he got it close enough to the reader to activate the lock. The door clicked and he shouldered it open, dropping a parcel as he staggered through.
She straightened, watching the door swing closed and then stop just short of shutting completely, with the edge of the parcel in the way.
She tried to run, but it was more a stumbling lope.
She got to the top of the stairs, peered through the crack in the door, just in time to see the Tecran turn a corner with the parcels.
She squeezed through the narrow gap, and stood, panting, in a big open space with a spiral staircase winding above her head.
There had to be a closet or storage room she could find to rest in, just for a little while.
Blood hammered in her ears, and she tried to slow her breathing, make it quieter.
If she was caught . . .
She forced her shoulders up and then down. If she was caught, maybe that would be a good thing. She could ask for help.
But there was a deeply cynical part of her that suspected that was a big maybe.
She looked right, the opposite direction to where the Tecran had gone, and started moving.
He'd be back for the parcel. His curse when it had dropped told her he knew it had, but he hadn't been able to set the others down to pick it up.
She heard footsteps behind her, and moved a little faster, hand out against the wall because for some reason she felt light-headed.
She was suddenly in a small alcove which contained a vending machine, a smaller version of the ones she'd used in the square, and felt a sudden lift in her spirits.
Things hadn't gone her way for hours, but it seemed her luck was turning.
Except, there wasn't a room off the alcove. It was a dead end.
She was stuck.
She drew in a breath, cocked her head to listen.
The footsteps had stopped, and then she heard the faint click of the back entrance closing.
She waited, trying to gauge which direction the Tecran would go next, and when she heard the footsteps coming closer, she wheeled around, desperate to find a corner to tuck herself into.
There was nothing.
Out of options, she stepped up to the vending machine and chose grinabo and another energy bar. Tapped her credit bank against the reader.
A big cup dropped down, filled with hot, fragrant liquid, and the bar was set down beside it.
The footsteps came to an abrupt halt behind her, and Lucy took the grinabo carefully.
She wanted to gulp it down, get a little warmth into her, but this might be the only weapon she had.
She turned slowly, grinabo clutched in both hands, and raised her gaze.
The Tecran stood, blocking the way out, his eyes curious. “I thought I heard someone back here.”
She didn't want to speak, so she flapped her elbows under the cloak in the way she'd seen the scientists and doctors at the facility do--the Tecran version of a shrug.
“Who are you?”
Her response had shifted his tone from curious to suspicious.
Nothing she said would do anything but complicate the situation, so she kept quiet and took a step closer to him, the steam from the grinabo rising tantalizingly in front of her.
She really didn't want to waste it by throwing it at his face.
“You left your energy bar in the slot,” the Tecran said, and startled, she turned to look, hand out to grab it.
As she did, he lunged forward and pushed off the hood of her cloak then stumbled back, his beaky mouth stretched open in surprise and shock.