‘I wouldn’t know.’ Anselm grinned and pleaded ignorance. ‘You’ll have to wait and find out.’
‘Why wait?’ Zeven objected.
‘Because I have a couple of other matters to discuss with you first.’ Anselm invited Zeven and his partner to take a seat.
‘Accommodation?’ Zeven said hopefully, as they planted their butts on the chairs facing Anselm’s desk.
‘Indeed,’ Anselm advised. ‘My people have found you both apartments in the government sector. My secretary will give you the details on your way out.’
‘Excellent.’ Zeven rubbed his hands together, and Mythric was clearly looking forward to having his own living space for a while too.
‘However, Starman,’ Anselm looked to Zeven, ‘I would like to meet with you midweek at my private residence. The girls are all very annoyed they did not have a chance to say goodbye, you see?’
Zeven suspected this was not the reason for the meeting at all, but said nothing. ‘I would like to catch up with them too,’ he agreed, hoping to bring the meeting to an end.
‘And you’ve had another invitation to an audience,’ the president advised.
‘From who?’ Zeven couldn’t think of anyone he’d need to be granted an audience to see.
‘From my great great aunt, the Dowager Duchess of Sermetica, Lady Maiara Vidor,’ Anselm announced winningly.
‘Why would she want to see Starman?’ Mythric sounded more shocked than his young partner looked.
Anselm looked to Mythric quizzically.
‘She is very old, after all,’ Mythric explained his surprise. ‘I rather thought she’d be dead or mad by now.’
‘As the most senior lady of the Sermetic royal family, we are very appreciative that is not the case,’ Anselm replied.
‘Of course.’ Mythric realised he’d spoken out of turn. ‘Sorry.’
‘If this has something to do with my parents …’ Zeven rose from his seat, as his anger mounted.
‘Taboo subject,’ Mythric warned, as Anselm looked back to Zeven.
‘But aren’t you curious to —’
‘No,’ Zeven insisted flatly. ‘Absolutely, no.’
‘Okay, then.’ Anselm gave up. ‘Do yourself out of an inheritance and family, it’s your call.’
Zeven hadn’t even considered he might have estates somewhere, or an inheritance. ‘Look.’ He didn’t want to sound ungrateful. ‘I appreciate your concern, but I already have everything I want … I have enough problems in my life without any more complications, thanks.’ What Zeven was actually thinking was that he really didn’t need the kind of hassles that Taren Lennox had been encumbered with, upon finding out her true identity.
‘Well, I see why you might be cautious,’ Anselm conceded, ‘but if you change your mind.’
‘He won’t,’ Mythric said at the same time as Zeven replied, ‘I won’t.’ Zeven looked at Mythric, curious about his support.
Mythric shrugged. ‘You’ve made no secret of your ill will toward your parents and I can understand that.’
‘See,’ Zeven pointed out to Anselm. ‘He understands that.’
‘Like I said,’ Anselm got the message, ‘it’s your choice.’
‘Well, I choose my present from Hunzo and my apartment key,’ Zeven concluded.
‘See Doltrice on the way out, she has the details, and book a time for our meeting during the week.’ Anselm rose to dismiss the pair.
‘Will do, Mr President.’ Zeven wasted no time getting out of there. ‘I don’t know about you, but I need a drink,’ he said to his partner, who was just as keen to leave.
‘I’m with you on that,’ Mythric agreed.
When Zanthie returned home in the afternoon, Aurora was gig-ready and perusing the inter-system news on their small home entertainment system. ‘You’re looking more human.’ Zanthie offloaded her bag on a lounge.
‘Mmm … yeah,’ Aurora mumbled to acknowledge her flatmate’s presence as she flicked through news articles at a rapid pace.
‘What are you searching for?’ Zanthie noted the distraction in Rory’s mood and came to stand by her.
‘I’ll give you one guess,’ Aurora replied.
‘That pilot guy?’ Zanthie was concerned for her friend’s state of emotional health. ‘You know there are plenty of guys who want to date you, if you’d just —’
‘Shit!’ Aurora wasn’t listening, and sat back in her chair annoyed. ‘Not only are there no updates, now I can’t even find the original news report and I know it was on this station.’
Zanthie was surprised. ‘Didn’t you bookmark it?’
‘I did,’ Aurora said, ‘but now it’s telling me that it can’t find the article, and it was only run in the last couple of months! They’ve got stories here that date back years!’
‘Maybe someone wanted the story pulled?’ Zanthie posed. ‘But more likely they discovered he hasn’t gone missing and pulled the story to hide they were misinformed.’
‘But if that were the case, why not just run a story saying, “Hey, we found him”?’ Aurora shut down the system in disgust.
‘Well, they probably figured no one would notice.’ Zanthie shrugged it off. ‘Not everyone is as manic obsessive as you, over someone they don’t know and probably never will know.’ Zanthie expected to have something tossed at her for the comment, but Aurora was deep in thought.
‘I think I’ll contact the station,’ she decided with a nod, and moved to turn the system back on.
‘Aurora!’ Zanthie rolled her eyes and put her hand over the startup mechanism on their system. ‘Isn’t it possible that you’re just fantasising over this guy so you can avoid dealing with all the guys who are seriously interested in you?’
‘I don’t want to go out with a student! I don’t want to go out with a groupie! I want a guy who has a life! A sense of adventure! Like me.’ She shrugged, approving of her own reasoning.
Again Zanthie felt her eyes rolling back into her head from frustration. ‘Then why pick a guy who is missing, possibly dead —’
‘Don’t say that!’ Aurora objected, shoving her aside. ‘Go have a shower, or we’ll be late.’ She switched the computer back on. ‘I’ll be done by the time you’re ready.’
‘Fine, chase a ghost, see if I care.’ Zanthie headed for the bathroom.
When Zanthie emerged from her shower, Aurora was on the bed with her guitar, composing a new tune. As she dried herself, Zanthie listened, growing ever more concerned.
‘I don’t want you to be another missing person.
When you come out of hiding
let me be the first one …
you seek.
It’s a crime how I want you,
I’d kill for just one kiss.
I’m dying to hold you,
your person, close to mine, is sorely missed.’
‘Cute,’ Zanthie commented on the tune. ‘But you can’t miss something you haven’t had.’
‘It works though, doesn’t it?’ Aurora attempted to make it sound like she was more interested in her songwriting than in the subject matter.
‘Well, yeah,’ Zanthie agreed as she got dressed. ‘Good to see you’re putting your strange obsession to constructive use.’
‘According to the news station, my strange obsession does not exist!’ Aurora was clearly feeling cheated. ‘They say they never ran the story and have never heard of Airman Gudrun.’
‘Maybe you dreamt it?’ Zanthie posed.
‘I didn’t dream it!’ Aurora snapped and Zanthie did not appreciate the hostility.
‘You said yourself that you keep dreaming about this guy, so don’t act like it’s an outrageous conclusion to jump to. Sheesh!’ She finished dressing and pulled on her boots.
‘Sorry.’ Aurora placed her guitar back in its case. ‘That’s the conclusion the chick at the station came to.’ Aurora closed the case and locked it. ‘But where did I get his name from? Or this picture of him I have in my head?’
‘Shit!’ Zanth
ie noted the time. ‘We gotta fly.’ She began frantically shoving makeup and accessories into her large gig bag.
Aurora grabbed her things and followed Zanthie out of the unit and into the lift. ‘P-twelve,’ she instructed once they were both inside, and the lift door closed. ‘The image of him is so clear. And these dreams!’
‘Are they sexy?’
‘Well, yes,’ she said, as the lift plummeted downward in silence. ‘But not how you’d think?’
‘Kinky?’ Zanthie frowned, more concerned.
‘No!’ Aurora laughed as the lift doors opened and they walked out into the car park toward the valet parking service. ‘The dreams are really thrilling!’
‘Thrilling?’ Zanthie was surprised. ‘How so?’ She held up a hand to beg Aurora’s patience, as she turned to announce into the valet parking centre’s speaker: ‘Twenty-eight fifteen.’
‘Confirm, twenty-eight fifteen,’ replied the speaker.
‘Confirm.’ Zanthie rolled her eyes at the procedure. ‘You were saying?’
‘Well, I don’t dream we are together or anything … it’s more like I’m in his body doing all these really amazing things.’
‘What kind of amazing things?’ Zanthie was back to being concerned, and noted their minivan gliding down the exit ramp toward them.
‘Amazing things like … flying planes, racing cars, flipping bikes, you know … the kind of things test pilots do.’
Their transport came to a halt and hovered before them.
‘So he’s a test pilot now, is he?’ Zanthie grinned at Aurora’s romantic vision of grandeur.
Aurora cracked a cheeky smile and shrugged. ‘In my dreams, he is.’
‘No wonder no real guy can match your expectations.’ Zanthie slid open the back door and tossed her bags and equipment inside.
‘You think I’m losing the plot, don’t you?’
‘It’s entirely possible that you could use a holiday,’ Zanthie said kindly.
Aurora accepted that to be the truth, but then locked eyes with Zanthie. ‘I know I didn’t dream him up, Zanth. I know I read that article. I jotted down details in my notebook, which I still have, and I know I don’t write in my sleep.’
Aurora being a sleep writer did seem more unlikely than a news station denying a story, for whatever reason. But then Zanthie had another thought which made her gasp and Aurora jump.
‘What?’
Zanthie scanned the area to be sure they were all alone and then whispered. ‘Maybe you have “the Powers”?’
‘No!’ Aurora objected to the suggestion very strongly, and then lowered her voice. ‘Some friend … are you trying to get me arrested? How could you even suggest that?’
Zanthie was not fearful, but rather excited. ‘The government is in the process of passing a bill to decriminalise psychic power on Sermetica, so it wouldn’t matter to me, or anyone, if you were!’
Aurora’s mouth gaped open. ‘I’m so not.’
‘Then you don’t believe this guy really exists, and you are bugging me with your silly fantasies about him because …?’ Zanthie challenged.
‘I saw him in that news report,’ Aurora answered honestly. ‘I just hope nothing untoward has happened to him.’
Zanthie took a deep breath, in the hope of being supportive. ‘Not that it will make any difference to your love life, but I believe you.’
‘Thank you.’ Aurora smiled, tossing her luggage inside and closing the van door.
‘That doesn’t mean I approve of your little ghost hunt.’ Zanthie climbed into the van behind the wheel and Aurora climbed into the passenger side.
‘He’s not a ghost,’ Aurora insisted, ‘unless you mean the political kind.’
‘What the …’ Zanthie muttered as their minivan was launched out into the stream of traffic and she assumed control of their vehicle from the valet service with the press of a button. ‘Are you going to tell me that he’s secret service next?’
‘Perhaps,’ Aurora uttered, her gaze lost in space again.
You’re either psychic or insane! Zanthie wanted to say, but considering how adversely Aurora felt about psychic powers, and her mental state today, she bit her tongue and steered.
The gunmetal grey Hunzo Borealis Sports Convertible that Zeven was driving was one of only ten of its kind that would ever be assembled. As the hover car silently cut through traffic, being admired everywhere it went, Zeven didn’t much care who he’d done out of the privilege of owning one of these, but he sure as hell was never going to give it up.
Even Mythric looked happy, reclined in his seat and soaking up the sun in the higher altitudes and cooler temperatures of Heavensgate.
‘I say we get out of the government sector to have that drink,’ Zeven suggested.
‘Whatever you say, Ace.’ Mythric grinned. ‘I am just happy to be along for the ride.’
‘And what a ride!’ Zeven gave a howl of delight, and Mythric echoed that emotion.
‘You are one lucky son of a bitch, that’s all I can say.’
‘It’s not luck … just impeccable timing.’ Zeven tugged right on the wheel, shooting quickly across into the next lane to take the off ramp over the security sky bridge, which led off the government island and onto the larger floating island that was Heavensgate proper.
There was no security to deal with on the way off the government island, but coming back in would be another matter altogether. Doltrice, Anselm’s chief secretary, had supplied Zeven and Mythric with government passes, along with their apartment keys and the key card to this magnificent vehicle.
Once they’d reached the civilian populous, Zeven drove toward the outer rim of the floating island, as that was where all the bars with the best views were located.
When Zeven pulled up into a no parking space in front of a club, nobody complained, as they were too busy eyeballing his ride. Zeven offered the bouncers at the door a hundred dollars each to watch the treasure for him, and both large men were more than happy to do so.
‘We’ll watch her for free, if you’ll take us for a ride later,’ the larger of the pair offered.
‘I may well need a designated driver before the day is out,’ Zeven grinned, ‘so you might be in luck.’
The prospect of driving the car was even more of an incentive, and the pair immediately began ushering the gathering crowd back to a safe distance.
‘You’re great at keeping a low profile.’ Mythric laughed off his concern, as they entered the up-market establishment.
‘Man you need to chill.’ Zeven shook his head as he took a seat at the bar. The awaiting bartender smiled — no doubt impressed by the car and crowd out front. ‘What’s your poison?’
‘Mescaline,’ Mythric replied without a second thought. Zeven was taken aback — as not only was the drink highly intoxicating but it was a hallucinogenic as well.
‘Now that’s what I’m taking about.’ Zeven thumped his hand down on the bar to take up the challenge. ‘Give me a bottle of your finest and two shot glasses.’
Beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, along the far side of the large club, was an equally large balcony. Zeven and Mythric found a quiet table at the very end and made themselves at home.
‘So tell me, why is Anselm so interested in proving you’re family?’ Mythric asked.
Zeven cracked a grin as he eyed up his second shot. ‘I think he’s trying to exploit my relationship with the boss.’ He gulped down the shot and revelled in the warm shudders it sent through his system.
‘Relationship?’ Mythric’s grin was sceptical, as he felt Zeven was a little young for Taren’s taste.
‘I am a confidant,’ Zeven clarified and shrugged. ‘Anselm envies that. I think he feels that if I trust him, so will the boss, and that ain’t so far from the truth. Hence his eagerness to be my new best friend.’
‘Sheesh, I envy that … I thought I was your new best friend?’ Mythric jested, and downed another mescaline.
‘You are that.’ Zeven filled their
glasses and they held them up. ‘To a dream team, and the one who brought us together … to the boss.’
‘To the boss.’ Mythric clinked his glass against Zeven’s, and they drank again.
It was only when the music started that Zeven realised night had fallen. ‘Hey, when did that happen?’ He pointed to the dark sky, suddenly aware that he was tripping out of his mind.
Mythric gave that knowing smile of his. ‘About three hours ago.’
Zeven gave his partner the thumbs up, glad to know that one of them still had his wits about him. ‘Don’t let me do anything stupid, like drive my car.’
‘Never.’ The thought was calming and Zeven stretched back in his seat to enjoy the music.
It was a pumping, raunchy piece that the live band were grinding out, and at the sound of the smouldering female vocal, Starman raised himself from the table for the first time in hours. ‘I’ll be back, I need to pee,’ he told Mythric.
‘Thanks for sharing.’ His partner waved him on.
A young, over-privileged crowd were packed into the club now. ‘Uni students.’ Zeven rolled his eyes.
There was a very attractive all-girl band on stage; all the fronting members of which had their backs to the audience at present and were swinging their leather-clad behinds in time to the beat.
As young girls were eyeing him off, Zeven made a beeline for the men’s room, doing his best to ignore all the admiring glances — completely forgetting that he appeared not much older than they were.
Upon his return to the room the lead singer was belting out a slower, more seductive song with attitude. Her voice was a real turn on, but since Zeven was far from being the tallest guy in the room, he headed toward the bar, where the floor was raised, and he could get a look at her.
She was a pint-sized blonde bombshell in dark brown leather, thigh-high stiletto boots and a matching mini-dress that flashed off her fit, sweaty form and her more than adequate breasts. She was thrashing the guitar in her hands as she huddled with the bass player and lead guitarist — both brunettes. One was fair-skinned and one dark, and both equally as easy on the eye. The singer returned to the microphone, and as she resumed her song, their eyes met and Zeven nearly died.