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Mnemonia had many secrets. Little was known about its people other than they were telepaths with strong psi-powers. Insular, standoffish, they were a closed world by choice and allowed very few visitors. No great supporters of the LOP, they had rejected the invitation to join the league—which gave them something in common with the Galactic Justice Warriors.
The human tripped over an exposed root, and, with a shriek, tumbled face-first. Seeher’s antenna-eyes swiveled around to glance at us, but she never broke her stride. The human let out another cry as a stinger-beetle the size of my foot scuttled toward her. I kicked it out of the way, helped her to her feet, and brushed off her knees.
Gripping my biceps, she glanced at Seeher’s retreating form and then stared up into my face. “Can’t you remember anything about us? About your family?” Her husky voice and pleading gaze stirred a flash of emotion—guilt, regret—I wasn’t sure what. But I recognized the attempt at manipulation. She is a threat.
I shoved her away. “Stop chattering and get moving.”
After thirty minutes of hiking, Seeher still energetically raced up the mountain like she’d been born to it. However, the exertion had taken a toll on the female. Her breath came in gasps, and beads of sweat dripped from her red face. Her short hair clung to her scalp like a wet cap.
I slowed my pace a little. If the female collapsed from exhaustion, I’d be forced to carry her.
The distance widened between us and Seeher, and we lost sight of her. A couple of switchbacks later, I saw her waiting at the trailhead. I hustled my captive up the path. “Don’t keep Seeher waiting.”
As we caught up with her, I saw we’d reached the apex of the mountain. It plateaued, and, in the center sprawled a long, bow-shaped stone building, flaring out on the ends, narrowing in the middle. Small windows mimicking the structure’s shape ran the entire length near the roofline.
A door in the center opened, and a tall, thin robed-and-hooded figure emerged. Seeher broke into a smile.
Chapter Nineteen
Kat
Was this a monastery? Seeher had mentioned a temple, but she’d spoken in Terran Universal, so I figured the word she’d intended didn’t translate directly. As sure as god made four-armed aliens, we hadn’t come here to light a few candles and request a blessing.
But the approaching man resembled a monk, wearing a simple hooded sage-green robe tied at the waist with rope. I caught a flash of sandals as he strode toward us. He had more-or-less humanoid feet. I couldn’t see his face because of the hood.
He was super tall but rail thin.
Monk or grim reaper?
Lomax appeared unconcerned, unthreatened by the stranger. Either he’d never met him before, or he didn’t remember. Antennas twitching, Seeher vibrated with emotion. She’d been that way since we’d disembarked the ship. She’d bounded up the tortuous jungle path like a jubilant mountain goat. Her excitement filled me with dread.
The monk-like man stopped in front of Seeher and pushed off his hood.
I recoiled, stifling a gasp. Boils covered his light-brown gaunt face. Deep shadows ringed his huge sad-looking eyes. I’d be sad, too, if my face was covered in boils.
Not boils. This is how Mnemonians look. I blinked as the thought popped into my head.
Nobody said a word, but he stepped forward and pressed his head to Seeher’s and clasped her hands. They stood forehead-to-forehead, not saying a word.
Finally, they separated, but their gazes remained locked on each other. Exuding palpable satisfaction, Seeher grinned like the cat that ate the canary. The stranger’s smile, while not bold, lit up his face.
An animal screamed. I jumped. The Mnemonian laughed.
The two of them continued to stare at each other without uttering a single word. A minute stretched into another, and then it hit me—they’re communicating telepathically.
Duh. He was one of those psi-aliens.
Then the alien moved to Lomax and briefly touched his forehead. He did not try to hold his hand. He said something in Ara-Cope, and Lomax replied.
He approached me. The inflamed-appearing bumps looked fiercer up close. I steeled myself not to recoil, but, thankfully, he did not press his forehead to mine. “My name is Da’an. Welcome to Mnemonia,” he said in Terran Universal. Then he surprised me even more by saying, “Please come into the temple. We will have tea.”
Chapter Twenty
Sandria Seeher
Nothing can stop me now. Victory is mine! I’d stood on the mountaintop and watched my brother approach. A robe covered him from head to toe, but I’d recognize his walk anywhere. Excitement bubbled up. It was so good to see him.
We touched foreheads in the formal greeting of our people, then he clasped my hands in an affectionate, familial way. “Peace through chaos. Dria, I’ve missed you. It is so good to see you,” he telepathed.
