QSFer Lexi Ander has a new MM sci fi book out: The Aurora Conspiracy.
Regin just wants to heal. After a terrible accident that maimed him, and nearly took his life and that of someone he loved, he’s spent the last several years licking his wounds on a mining station. With only six months left on his contract, he hopes to start a new life.
Then he’s accused of a crime he didn’t commit, and a ghost from the past arrives, reopening old wounds and leaving him convinced that no second chances could ever really come his way. But sorting out himself and his personal life won’t matter much if he can’t prevent a second catastrophe and save a whole lot more than two lives.
Lexi is giving away an eBook copy of one of her backlist titles with this post – for a chance to win, just comment on the post below. :)
Waiting was the worst. I knew the constables did it on purpose; the guilty squirmed unless they were self-assured. I didn’t know why I’d been brought into security for questioning, but I was positive I’d done nothing wrong. How could I get into any mischief when I kept to myself?
Tipping the cup back, I finished off the water. It had a slight mineral aftertaste, but that was to be expected when living on a space station orbiting an uninhabitable planet; everything was recycled to the nth degree. The taste of the processed water seemed sharper than usual and I wasn’t sure if any hypersensitivity was imagined or caused by the low-level tension sitting on my stomach.
The veneer at the edge of the tabletop had peeled back, either from age or from those trapped with nothing to do in the sterile room as they too waited. I scraped a dark fingernail over the clear, curling bits of lacquer, mentally noting that I needed to file down my nails again. They had grown out enough that they were becoming pointed.
The door to the interrogation room opened and two constables from The Fraternity entered, a Nylithian and a Brakkayn, both wearing blue uniforms that did nothing to hide the fact they wore light armor underneath. Did they expect me to attack them? The fact that I knew one of the constables, at one time deeply and intimately, should’ve caused some kind of emotional reaction. Relief, panic, or anger—with a bit of cussing on the side—would’ve been more appropriate than this dull numbness that wasn’t even colored by surprise. I’d been duped, and knowing that made it possible for me to give the constables a blank face. They wanted something from me, of that I was sure, but I wouldn’t give anything away—I hoped.
Somewhat familiar with The Fraternity, I’d known they would require I take a serum before the interrogation. When constables questioned you, they skipped over all the other stages of the interview straight to ‘give me the correct answers’ in the first meeting. Constables didn’t beat around the bush; they pulled it up by the roots to get to the meat of the matter. That I didn’t react to the sudden appearance of that particular Brakkayn meant they had dosed me pretty well—with more than something to loosen my tongue. Glancing at the glass of water, I called myself every kind of fool.
I hadn’t expected them to be sneaky about it.
I gave my attention to the Nylithian as I attempted to recall my humanitarian studies from college. Of the two, he would be the real threat to me. I remained still as I surreptitiously looked the reptilian over. His face—and I knew his gender because the females of their race had four arms instead of two—was partially obscured by a steel cowl, the gauze-like metal covering his large eyes. Only the flat nose and wide thin mouth were visible. Glancing down to his hands I noted he wore gloves, at least for now. The danger would come if—when—he removed them.
Reluctantly, I turned my gaze to the Brakkayn, perhaps a wee bit thankful for the drugs that coursed through my veins. He wasn’t surprised to see me, which was understandable. No constable would enter an interrogation room without knowing the background of the person they planned to question. The color of his skin ran from a dusky gray to almost silvery in hue; a healthy color, not sickly graygreen like the last I saw him. I was pleased he’d recovered. Hope I wasn’t aware I’d harbored these last several years dissipated under the steely gaze of those dark, unreadable eyes.
Glancing away, I stowed my useless questions behind my mental shields to hide them from the coming interrogation. Now wasn’t the time to renew old acquaintances. I leaned back in the chair and waited as if I had all the time in the universe.
The Nylithian spoke first. “I’m Constable Kwan Warthunder and this is my partner, Constable Makari Gan’Sey. Do you know why you are here today?”
Constable Kwan seemed to be waiting for me to elaborate. In any other situation, I might’ve laughed. In all honesty, I had nothing to give him. He moved over to the wall and activated a clear screen. The movement of his hands brought up and discarded files until my company documents were displayed, including the photograph taken five years ago. How young I’d appeared when I signed on with the company.
Kwan flicked the circular dial that began the recording. “Please state your name and occupation for the record.”
I slouched in my chair, projecting a bored air. “Shouldn’t you have asked me if I knew why I was here after you started the recording?”
Kwan looked at me over his shoulder, as if I was supposed to recognize his expression with half of his face covered. “Please state—”
“Regin Valenta, crane operator for Aurora Minerals and Rare Metals.”
“In the last twelve months, have you sent any electronic files to Aurora’s board of directors?”
“Do you, or have you claimed to have evidence of life on planet TN95623?”
I scratched my nose to keep from making a rude noise at the ridiculousness of the questions. “No.”
“Have you sent information to Aurora Minerals and Rare Metals stating you discovered life on planet TN95623?” I was so mellow I couldn’t even lift my eyebrows. Even so, I quickly pieced together where their questioning was going. “That’s blackmail.” Was I sliding down further in my seat?
Lexi has always been an avid reader, and at a young age started reading (secretly) her mother’s romances (the ones she was told not to touch). She was the only teenager she knew of who would be grounded from reading.
Later, with a pencil and a note book, she wrote her own stories and shared them with friends because she loved to see their reactions.
A Texas transplant, Lexi now kicks her boots up in the Midwest with her Yankee husband and her eighty-pound puppies named after vacuum cleaners.
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