Book 4 in the Huntress series.
World Council Hunter Cambria Petersen finds herself kidnapped. Beyond Caparossi's reach, she is without resources or friends in an alien landscape. Worse, her healing factor is gone, and she's being hunted by an old enemy. Can Caparossi find her in time, or will the most powerful man on Earth see her truly dead?
Lazarus was one of the first planets humans arrived on – legitimately. For nearly two hundred years, humans built a society with the most advanced technology of the time, and continued to advance as technology advanced. Like most human planets, the Gardishans manipulated the Government into installing second-hand corridors.
Lazarus, an ardent ally of Earth, had the benefit of the Nexian technicians fixing those corridors first.
Cambria walked around the arrival concourse, the vague feeling of coming home settling around her. Humans were the predominant species, with a smattering of aliens. All the typical franchises dotted the embarkation area, fashion, food and tax-free products, bars, restaurants, newsagents. She listened to alien conversations. The weirdness in her head translated the languages with barely a pause.
And to think, when I first went to Tudor, I couldn’t believe I was on another planet. How many humans on Earth still think interstellar travel is impossible? And that there’s no such thing as aliens?
The Dark-a-day, Watchers, ‘Guardians of this dimension’, the Nexians called them, now made up a part of her DNA, absorbed on the day she blew up the aliens on Nomad. Somehow, the universal translator installed by the Nomadians became organic and supplied her with an almost encyclopaedic knowledge whenever she accessed it. She suspected the Watchers used her to garner more knowledge about the species they had lost when she and Karesh destroyed their ship: humans.
All she knew of the mysterious creatures was that no one could properly describe them. Witnesses told only of a darkness surrounded by mist. She knew they monitored her and gave her updated information every time someone killed her. Then they sent her back to life.
She couldn’t decide if her existence depended on them, or they were genuinely keen on discovering what would kill her, so they could claim the same option. Was she a guinea pig for a superior, highly intelligent, highly advanced species or an interesting freak of nature?
She shook off her thoughts. Grant would provide enough of a challenge; philosophising on her state of being could wait until she could ask the appropriate species – and that wouldn’t happen until someone killed her again; something she was disinclined to encourage.
Cambria went to the Transit Authority office and showed her Hunter identification to the security officer.
“Yes, ma’am, how may I assist?” The twenty-something man asked with a blandness that belied the excitement in his hazel eyes.
“I’m looking for Lincoln Grant.” She said and pulled out her information unit, turned the device around to show the officer.