Chapter Eleven
Brenna thought that she was about to burst; the very moment that Rex was clear of the checkpoint – and that was something of a close call – she began scanning the busy terminal for the nearest 'fresher. Walking beside her, Rex was looking as well, though it was almost impossible to make anything out through the crowd.
"Please tell me you see a 'fresher," she said through gritted teeth.
He frowned. "Not yet...wait-" A moment later and he indicated a spot to the right that she couldn't make out through the press of people. "There's one. You're in luck."
Thank all that's holy...
"Here," she said, passing her now-snoozing daughter to Rex. "I'll just be a minute."
At the sudden change in location, Iri's eyes opened and she gave Brenna a worried look. "Mama?"
"It's okay, sweetheart. I'll be right back," she replied as Rex took Iri in his arms, somehow managing to do so despite the fact that he was carrying their bags as well. To Rex, she said: "She's tired, but she's probably hungry too; if we have time, we should get her a snack."
Rex indicated a series of seats along the wall opposite the 'freshers. "Sounds good. We'll be waiting right there."
Because she thought she was going to explode at this point, Brenna only nodded and turned away from them, darting across the crowded terminal – more so, now, than it had been even a few minutes ago – and reaching the 'fresher not a moment too soon. Despite the number of beings outside, there was no one else inside the 'fresher, which was a relief. Once she was finished, she stepped out of the stall and made her way to the row of open sinks against the wall, thinking to wash her hands and maybe wipe off her face, as she was pretty sure she that some of Iri's lunch had made its way to her cheek.
As she leaned over the sink, Brenna heard a soft throat clear behind her, the sound almost-but-not-quite echoing in the empty room. When she turned, she saw a petite Iridonian woman holding a folding flimsi map and wearing an embarrassed expression; she had tan skin, reddish hair done in a single braid down her back, a series of intricate geometrical tattoos on her face, and a small knapsack hanging off of her shoulder.
"Excuse me," the Iridonian said, meeting Brenna's eyes with hesitation. "Do you have a moment to help me? I'm new here, and I'm afraid I'm in the wrong terminal."
"I've never been here before, either," Brenna replied, turning off the faucet and shaking out her hands under the air-dryer. "But I can try to help you figure it out."
The other female smiled as Brenna stepped over to her; despite her small frame, she seemed a bit older up close. "Thank you," she added as she held open the map for Brenna to peer over. "You're very kind."
As Brenna studied the map, she shook her head. "It's no trouble-"
Before she could finish the sentence, she heard a soft exhalation of breath and felt an accompanying whisper of air against her nose and on her lips, as if a very fine powder had been blown over her face.
A heartbeat later, everything changed.
Instantly, she knew that something was wrong, but at first she couldn't quite put her finger on it. She felt normal enough: her heart-rate was steady, her breath was even, but something was off-kilter and for a moment she was quite confused. Her eyes moved to the Iridonian, who was watching her with unconcealed interest, and Brenna opened her mouth to ask what was going on.
"What's your name?" The pitch of the Iridonian's voice dropped, just a bit, and Brenna felt a thrill of alarm.
Wrong. This is wrong. She wanted to say as much, but instead she said: "Brenna Damaris."
Fear began to beat a rapid cadence in her brain and she tried to move her feet, tried to move her hand, but it was as if she was frozen in place. What's going on?
The Iridonian nodded once and continued to regard her. "Your shirt is dirty," she said after a moment, reaching in the knapsack she'd been carrying and pulling out a black, long-sleeved tunic. "Take it off and put this on, instead."
No, she would not do this. She would shake her head, brush past this woman and walk out of here, go back to Rex and Iri, who were probably starting to wonder where she was.
But Brenna's body did not obey the commands of her mind.
Instead, she slid out of her button-up shirt so that she was only wearing her tank-top, reached for the tunic that the Iridonian offered, and slipped it over her head. It was too big around her waist and hung lower than the one she'd been wearing. Her old shirt fell to the floor, so the Iridonian bent to collect it, then looked at her again. "Come with me, Brenna, and don't say anything to anyone."
No. No! In her mind, Brenna was shouting, but it was as if her consciousness was somehow caged, trapped within her body, which seemed to be in total compliance with the Iridonian's commands. Terror struck her, but it was purely mental. There were none of the accompanying signs of fear in her body: her heart continued to beat its normal pace and her breathing felt calm and even.
But within the confines of Brenna's mind, she was stricken with utter terror. What is happening to me?
The Iridonian turned and walked out of the 'fresher, and Brenna followed despite herself. There was a moment of hope that cut like a beam of sunlight through her fear, because she knew that once Rex spotted her, he would see that something was wrong and come to her aid.
It will be okay, she told herself as she watched the petite Iridonian slip into the seething mass of sentients that was just outside the 'fresher door; there were so many people now, it was a dizzying sight, and she found that it was almost impossible to focus her attention on anyone or anything beyond the Iridonian. As they went, Brenna tried to turn her head and look for Rex, but her brain felt overwhelmed and cloudy with fear, and her body still refused to do anything other than follow the Iridonian along.
"Come on, Brenna," the Iridonian said suddenly, turning and touching her wrist. "Keep quiet, but hurry. We don't want to be late."
Late for what? But she didn't speak the words, only thought them, and her confusion was heightened as panic was rapidly growing within her, making it impossible to think clearly; she'd heard about such things happening when a person was traumatized, so she worked to push her fear to the side and instead focus on what was happening. Where are Iri and Rex?
Her mouth opened but no sound came out, and the Iridonian gave a sigh of exasperation and turned again. "Hurry up. Don't turn around."
Despite her frustration and fear, Brenna's stride lengthened and her pace increased to match that of the Iridonian, who was walking quickly without seeming to.
"Mama?"
The sound struck at some primordial nerve within her mind; it was the voice of her daughter, but Iri sounded scared, and Brenna had an overwhelming, all-encompassing urge to turn and run to her child...but she couldn't do anything, not even look over towards the direction of Iri's voice, not even tilt her head. She was a passenger trapped within her own body. Instead, her vision tunneled towards the Iridonian woman who was walking ahead. Brenna's body paced along as if nothing was wrong, but her heart was wrung tight with fear.
"Mama!"
Irini...
Terror beat against her brain, constricting her thoughts and focusing them like a point of light on her baby, on her precious child. Iri needed her, but Brenna's body refused to move except to keep walking forward, weaving through the heated press of bodies as she followed the Iridonian woman. Had she been able, she would have screamed in frustration and terror. Why is this happening? Why can't I turn around?
"Brenna!"
Rex, she wanted to shout. Rex, I'm here, but something's wrong! His tone was worried as well, confused and bordering on angry, but mostly she could hear that he was afraid. There were so many people around, the terminal was thick with sentients of all kinds, and Brenna wondered if she was even able to turn her head if she'd be able to see Rex at all. Furious and frightened, she mentally shouted at her body to turn around, to run, to do anything but keep walking like nothing was wrong, like everything that was happening right now was perfectly ordinary except she was maybe a little late for her transport.
But nothing changed. She walked along and did not hear Rex or Iri's voices again. Despair clutched at her heart, but she shoved it aside and tried to focus on getting away. You can do this, she told herself, willing her body to respond to the commands of her mind. You can break this hold, whatever it is. Iri needs you. Rex needs you.
Suddenly her comlink began to buzz in her pocket. Rex. Brenna tried with every bit of her concentration to coerce her hand to move, to reach into her pocket and withdraw the device; if she could even get it out, answer it...somehow...
But nothing. She just kept walking.
However, the Iridonian woman glanced her way and frowned, then looked into Brenna's eyes. "Don't turn around, and don't speak. Take your comlink out of your pocket and drop it on the ground."
No, no, no...
As if moving of its own accord, Brenna's hand reached into her pocket, pulled out the comlink, and dropped it, the movement of her own foot knocking the device across the tiled floor of the terminal. With a nod, the Iridonian picked up her pace and they began to thread through the thickening crowd a little quicker than before.
Within her chest, Brenna's heart was filled with anguish. Her only link to Rex and Iri was gone, and she was a prisoner.
After a few more moments, the Iridonian nodded towards what appeared to be an alcove in the wall beside them. "Go in there. And keep silent."
It was a corridor of some kind, perhaps a staff entrance, as it was devoid of any other life-forms, but was dimly lit and filled with shadows. Once they'd both entered and walked several meters, the Iridonian turned to Brenna and took her wrist again, not meeting the human woman's eyes as she spoke to someone that Brenna couldn't see. "We're here."
Here?
The corridor was quiet, dark, still. Behind her back, Brenna could hear a blaring loudspeaker making an announcement in a number of languages, the sound barely discernible through the rush of the crowd, and she was afraid again, too much so to even register the words when they sounded in Basic. The Iridonian female had halted in the shadows but did not release Brenna's wrist when she spoke again. "Where are you?"
"Calm down, Zoea," a man's voice said, bubbling up as if from the shadows of the corridor. "I'm right here."
Something in Brenna's mind broke open and a new kind of terror poured into her, because she knew this voice. No.
When Arcas stepped into her field of vision, she only looked at him stupidly, but within her mind she was backing away, because of all the people in the galaxy, the man whom she wanted to see least – ever again – was standing before her now, regarding her with his gray eyes that had once stolen her heart right before he'd crushed it.
No. No, no, no...
When he smiled at her, his teeth were pearly white against the shadows of the corridor. "Bren," he said, taking her hand. "It's so good to see you again."
Run, she told herself as she tried to calm down. The touch of his hand made her recoil, but her body held still. Run away, right now.
Arcas studied her very carefully, but when he spoke again, she knew it was to the Iridonian woman who had escorted her here. "How much did you use on her? Hycosine isn't exactly cheap."
"I used enough." The Iridonian sounded irritated. "Didn't you want to make sure she'd come quietly?" Arcas made a noise of assent and the Iridonian – Zoea, he'd named her – sighed. "Well, it worked, because she's totally compliant; I was worried when someone started shouting for her, but she didn't so much as turn her head."
Nodding, Arcas held Brenna's eyes and as he did so, she felt like she was eighteen again, fumbling and strange and wholly unprepared to handle him; the difference was that now she had an idea of what she was in for, and now she wanted to do nothing else but get away from the dark-haired man.
"Good girl, Brenna," he said with another smile, rubbing his thumb along the inside of her wrist; the intimate nature of his touch incited a blaze of fury within her mind, for all that she was unable to so much as pull her hand back. "You're worth every effort."
"She'd better be," the Iridoninan replied, crossing her arms. "We should get going so she can start paying for all this trouble we've gone through to get her."
Arcas' smile gleamed in the darkness, and fear rose within Brenna's mind, warring with the anger, because she knew that look and knew it meant trouble. "Don't worry, Bren," he said, lacing their fingers together and turning to walk so that he was now leading her down the corridor, to the darkness. "I just need you to use your slicing talents for me. All I could manage was to slice into Loronar Corp's database and access the potential candidates for the security job...and I was very pleased to see your name. Nice resumé, by the way," he added with a chuckle. "Didn't I always say you had potential?"
Anger dropped out of her mind, momentarily replaced with chagrin. It was a scam; he just wants to use me...again.
She wanted to run, wanted to scream and lash out at him, but her legs only walked along and her voice was silent. In this moment, Brenna was nothing more than a passenger in her own body, and she could do nothing at all but follow the man who'd broken her heart so completely all those years ago.
"Brenna...it'll be fine," Arcas said, his hand sliding out of hers so he could guide her by the small of her back. "I promise."
She knew it was a lie.
Minutes ago...
The moment that Brenna hurried off to the 'fresher, Rex maneuvered through the throng of sentients to reach the seats where he'd told her they'd wait; it was something of a relief to set down the bags, though he kept a firm hold of Iri, who even now was twisting in his arms to follow her mother's progress.
"Mama gone?"
"She'll be right back, Iri'ka." He debated sitting down, then thought better of it; after spending so long seated on the last transport, he felt better being on his feet. For a moment he watched the passers-by, studying the vast array of species who were at this terminal, and thinking that it was a little too warm for his liking, here.
A few minutes later, Iri looked up at him, her honey-brown eyes wide and her lower lip trembling as it did when she was about to start crying. "Mama gone."
The last thing he wanted right now was for her to have a tantrum, so Rex shifted his hold on the little girl so that she was facing him fully. "Why don't you help me keep an eye out for her? I can put you on my shoulders if you hang on...would that be okay?"
She paused, as if debating, then nodded once. Rex chuckled and hefted the toddler so that she was on his shoulders, taking care to ensure that she was secure; he held her lower legs with one hand and reached up with his other to place her palms on his head. "Hang on."
"Kay, Rex." Immediately, he felt the press of her tiny fingers against his skull, and he couldn't help but chuckle again as he turned and faced the direction of the 'freshers where Bren had gone. There were a few moments of quiet, during which the little girl held very still. He was a bit uncertain if Brenna would approve of Iri riding on his shoulders, but it seemed to have prevented an imminent tantrum, which was a good thing, in his book.
"Do you see her, Iri?"
There was a pause, then he felt the little girl sigh. "No Mama."
Rex's brows knitted and he glanced at his chrono; they didn't have much time before they had to leave, and he was starting to wonder if she was okay. He debated comm'ing her, then decided against it. He was probably being paranoid, and in any case he didn't want to move overmuch while the toddler was balanced on his shoulders.
Iri sighed again, and – unexpectedly – he felt her cheek lean down to rest against the top of his head. "Mama gone."
"She'll be right back," he said again, though he felt a flicker of apprehension at the little girl's words. Very carefully, so that he wouldn't jar the toddler, he lifted his chin and scanned the area by the 'freshers, searching through the increasingly thickening crowd of beings for Brenna's distinct form. Kriff, it was getting really busy, and he wondered if a large transport had arrived and unloaded, which might account for the growing numbers of travelers.
Another few moments passed; now his gut was telling him that something was definitely not right, so he glanced down and began to dig around in his pocket for his comlink, thinking to send her a brief message.
As he did so, he felt Iri's cheek lift from his head. "Mama?"
"Where?" Rex looked up, scanned the crowd for her, but didn't see her. "Iri, where is she? Point to her."
In his peripheral vision, he saw Iri's tiny hand reach out to his left. "Mama?"
Suddenly his heart was beating faster than it should have and he felt his throat go dry, because he didn't see her, anywhere. "Iri...where is she?"
On his shoulders, Iri was practically kicking his chest with her heels in excitement; she ignored him and called out again, her voice plaintive and tinted with fear. "Mama!"
There! When Rex spotted Bren, his eyes narrowed and fear tugged at his heart. She was walking through the crowd of people with an Iridonian woman he'd never seen before, and she was dressed in a shirt he didn't recognize as one of hers...
What the hell? Rex took a breath, because there was no way she was just leaving. Surely there was a logical explanation for what was happening.
"Brenna!" He pitched his voice as loud as possible but she didn't so much as turn her head. A few passers-by glanced at him but for the most part no one paid him any mind. Refusing to tear his eyes from Bren for even a moment, Rex made a snap decision. "Hang on, kiddo."
With that, he gripped Iri's legs firmly so that she wouldn't fall off his shoulders, and began to dart through the crowd as best he could, given the seemingly endless mass of beings. It was slow going and Rex couldn't quell his growing agitation with each passing moment, because it was getting harder and harder to pick her out of the crowd. Had Brenna been running he might have been able to spot her, but she was walking just like everyone else in this place: at a normal pace, as if nothing was wrong, as if she wasn't leaving behind her daughter and the man she loved.
But when he felt his train of thought getting more and more out of hand, Rex reeled in his worry, because surely he was overreacting. She was probably just going to find a snack for Iri, like she'd mentioned. Maybe she'd spilled something on her shirt, and the Iridonian had provided a spare. It was so loud, maybe she hadn't heard him and Iri shouting, and he was probably being very foolish for worrying like this.
Surely there was a logical explanation for this, he just needed to speak with her.
As he moved – or tried to – through the crowd, Rex managed to pull his comlink out of his pocket to call her; once he spoke to her, it would be okay. Still moving, he tried the code that would reach her, but she didn't respond. Gritting his teeth, he tried again, to no avail.
Rex had no idea what was going on, but he felt that squirming in his gut that he'd always relied on in battle, and he knew that something was very, very wrong. Still on his shoulders, he could hear Iri beginning to cry; and when he looked for Brenna again, he realized with a jolt that she was gone.
Vanished.
If she were able, she'd answer. He knew this, so the inevitable conclusion was that she was unable to answer for some reason. No kriffing way this is happening, he thought, fury coiling within him, warring with his fear. I can't let it.
Gripping Iri's legs again, he pushed his way through the crowd, to the last place he'd seen Bren, beneath a sign indicating a series of terminal hubs. When he reached the spot, he stood for a moment, surveying the area and trying not to be buffeted by the people sidling past him and Iri, who was still calling out in a plaintive voice.
"Mama!" Iri wailed, the register of her voice reaching an octave that Rex had rarely heard. "Mama gone!"
He wanted to reassure the child, wanted to offer some kind of consolation or comfort, but he didn't know how to do so. As it was, he paused his steps and – still searching – reached one of his hands up to rub Iri's back, as he'd seen Brenna do in the past. As he did so, his eyes fell on something small and gleaming on the ground a few meters ahead; after managing to duck through the crowd, Rex came upon the object, which was when he felt his heart get stuck in his throat even as his stomach plummeted to his knees.
Bren's comlink.
No, he thought, bending to retrieve it, to make sure. No, no, no...
It was hers, he recognized the make and the few mods she'd made to increase its range. Iri was crying in earnest now, but he could do nothing to help her, because if he were honest he wasn't that far away from doing so himself.
Rex stood amidst what felt like a river of beings, and realized that he was lost, too.
Sigh. I wasn't kidding about the angst, and there's a bit more to come. However, I'm a fan of balance, so for all the angst I'm about to subject Rex and Brenna to, (and you guys by extension), there will be equal amounts of happiness.
But not for a bit. :P
Next time: security guards and Fives' return.
Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know what you think so far, if you have a minute. :)