Madness

MADNESS

Kristine Williams

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

MADNESS

Book 2 in the Keeper Series

Smashwords Edition.

© 2009 by Kristine Williams. All rights reserved.

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MADNESS

Evan sat opposite Alex on the crowded shuttle and stared at his own reflection in the darkly tinted glasses his Keeper was wearing. Madame Clarice Duvia was in residence on the planet itself, instead of the apartment she kept on the orbiting station, so they'd been forced to book the last two seats on the first shuttle of the day, cramming in with another twenty people anxious to get wherever they were going. Evan would have preferred traveling alone, so he and his Keeper could talk, but there were no other available transports. So he sat quietly, and waited.

Just as well. Alex was so hung over, he probably wouldn't have wanted to say much anyway. Why he felt the need to get drunk the night before seeing his mother for the first time in nine months was a mystery Evan wasn't sure he wanted to solve. Mysteries always had reasons, and if meeting his own mother required a hangover, how bad could this be?

It was late morning on Scotian when the shuttle dropped out of the cloud layer and banked toward the city. Bright, orange sunlight slammed into the view ports and bounced off Alex's glasses.

Damn. Alex made a face and turned his head slightly away from the light.

Evan wanted to comment, but there were too many people too close by. Several of them had given him a second glance when they boarded, obviously realizing what he was, and hadn't been able to stop staring since takeoff. Evan sighed inwardly. Being on the Ascalon for so long had spoiled him. Amazing how a lifetime's worth of routine could be so easily shrugged off in less than a year. On the Ascalon, he was well known, and in a strange way, accepted. A way that both irritated and pleased him, surprisingly. It was different, unusual. A little annoying at times, but for the most part, he'd gotten quite used to it.

Now, he was Sha'erah again. Not the second-in-command of a deep space exploration vessel. Not the partner of one Alex Marcase. He was property again. He was Sha'erah. And he was intimidating everyone else on the shuttle just by sitting there. As normal as that was, it felt strange to him now.

We'll have to rent a car when we land. Her house is five miles out.

Evan nodded, catching a glimpse of his own dark eyes in his Keeper's lenses.

Alex's eyebrows arched, then he turned his head slightly and looked around the shuttle as if noticing the other passengers for the first time.

Oh, right. I forgot. He shook his head and sighed, saying nothing more.

A man sitting three seats to Alex's left hadn't taken his eyes off Evan since they boarded. He was quite tall and thin, with long legs folded up uncomfortably in the economy seat he was perched on. Evan had already given him a thorough going over and decided he was no threat, just rude. There were no familiar bulges in clothing where weapons were typically stored, no calluses on his hands indicating frequent gun usage, and from the manner in which his Adam's apple spasmodically bobbed up and down with each swallow, there was no way he could blend into a crowd the way an assassin would require.

Of course, that could all be a ruse. His apparent lack of any danger whatsoever could well be a put-on, designed to cause the experienced observer to pass him over as a non-threat. There could be weapons stashed elsewhere on his person. Smaller, thinner weapons that would show no signs under loosely fitted clothing. Or, he could be the decoy, drawing attention with his nervously bobbing Adam's apple and constant scrutiny.

Or, he could just be rude.

By the time the shuttle landed, Evan had determined he was no threat at all. They all stood well before the light indicating they could unbuckle the safety straps and stand came on, pressing toward the door in precisely the manner the regulation card advised against, anxious to be free of the confining space of the cramped shuttle. Alex waited until several large, middle-aged women bustled by, nearly trampling their toes, before he stood. When he did, the thin man with the Adam's apple stood as well, finally dragging his gaze back to his own business.

Alex started walking by, before the thin man finished gathering his jacket and pack. He doesn't do any tricks, if that's what you've been wondering.

The thin man's head shot up, eyes darting from Alex to Evan and back again. He stammered something incoherent, then hurried to leave the shuttle ahead of Alex, mumbling some apologies to the women as he pushed by.

Evan sighed and followed his Keeper, waiting until they were away from the crowds. You know, he'd probably just never seen a Sha'erah before.

Yeah, well he saw you when we boarded. Alex held up a hand and waved one of the waiting hired cars over. I'm surprised you didn't take that staring as a threat.

I evaluated him right away, and if he'd made a move he wouldn't have gotten far. Evan opened the door to the car and glanced inside before letting Alex climb in. Are you expecting trouble?

No, of course not. Alex slid to the other side of the car and gave the driver instructions. Then again, I never seem to expect trouble, but it's always expecting me.

I haven't let my guard down, if that's what you're worried about.

God, my head hurts.

It was your idea to get drunk last night, Evan scolded.

I thought you weren't supposed to let me hurt myself.

What you did last night wasn't dangerous, just stupid. Evan glanced at Alex, seeing only his reflection in the glasses. You wanted to get drunk.

I know.

You wanted to have a headache when you saw your mother.

I know.

You never told me to stop you. Evan stopped when Alex held up a hand, nodding.

They drove in silence down a quiet road lined with expensive homes and perfectly manicured lawns. Evan couldn't help but notice every one of the houses was white, with various shades of blue trimming certain aspects of the architecture. Every one had security gates and remote monitors protecting the inhabitants from any unwanted approach. Tethered to the drive posts in every front yard was a private vehicle, typically black in color, immaculately cleaned and waiting to be needed.

It was a stark contrast to the displays of wealth on Cryian. But it was, ultimately, the same money. Paulson Carpenter presumably lived in a large, white house with perfectly tailored landscaping and a large, black car. There was little difference between the way in which Paulson conducted business and the way Spencer Marcase had. But at least Spencer hadn't pretended to be anything other than what he was.

When the car pulled up one of the private drives, it stopped ahead of the monitor, so Alex could address the unit.

Alex Marcase to see Madame Duvia. He turned to Evan. You have to promise me something.

Evan's eyebrows knit with suspicion. He glanced at the driver, but the man wasn't paying them any attention as he drove through the opening gate. Of course.

No, I'm serious. Alex reached up and pulled the glasses down the rim of his nose so he could see Evan clearly. She has this habit of ignoring things that displease her. She'll try to treat you like furniture.

Evan blinked.

She'll talk about you as if you're not even in the room. Just . . . if she does that, don't take it personally.

Before Evan could explain how it was her every right to do just that, the car had stopped and both doors opened automatically. Alex handed the man the required amount of credit chips and got out, shutting the door behind him. Evan hurried to join him and found himself staring up at a massive, completely white house brimming with excess.

As they approached the double doors, a soft chime sounded, followed by a harried voice, mechanical in nature. One of the doors opened and an automated butler floated out, hovering above the ground at eye level. It wasn't much more than a box the size of a man's head, with optical sensors, audio input and output units, and several small orifices presumably hiding arms.

Good day to you, Master Alex. The robot dipped slightly in greeting, then spun around to direct its optical sensors at Evan. And this is . . .?

This is Evan, Sylvester. Alex grinned slightly and pointed at the hovering box. Sylvester here is my mother's butler, guard dog, and social calendar, all rolled into one.

The robot spun back around to face Alex. I prefer the term Companion, Alex.

He's been with mother since before I was born. Alex reached out and patted the robot, then walked through the door into the house. Where's mother, Sylvester?

Evan ducked as the machine flew by, nearly clipping his shoulder in its rush to get ahead of Alex again. It spun around, floating backwards in order to maintain its lead.

She's dressing, sir. If you'll just have a seat here, I'll inform her you've arrived. The 'bot hovered a moment, then drew closer to Alex but failed to lower its audio output. Sir, Madame has requested you wait alone. Should you arrive with . . . anyone else . . . she has instructed me to --

Evan, hold out your arms. Alex shot him a look, then turned back to Sylvester. Discount.

Instantly, the robot fell from the air into Evan's waiting arms. Startled, he stared at the unit, then put his left hand over the inlet underneath. He's shut down.

Completely. Alex grinned. Just toss him on the couch, he'll power back up in an hour.

Evan complied, setting Sylvester's quiet form on the couch near the large spiral staircase. What did you do?

When I was a kid, mother used to sic that thing on me like a babysitter. Alex was looking around the room as if trying to find something as he spoke. I got sick of it one day and got a program installed in his mainframe. Any time I say the magic word, he shuts down for an hour, with no memory of what happened.

Evan blinked, surprised. You installed a program?

Alex shrugged. Okay, I bribed this kid I knew into doing it for me. She still hasn't figured it out.

How do you know?

Alex started pacing around the large room, looking at artwork and figures as if he'd never seen them before in his life. The magic word is discount. That's not a word my mother even knows.

Evan glanced around the interior of the house, noticing it himself for the first time. The room they were in was opulently decorated. Heavy, fringed curtains draped over the windows like gilded weights, tiredly forcing out any view from outside with their thick material. Pure white marble coated the floor, then seemed to climb up the walls, blending seamlessly with white shelves and white marble mantles displaying paintings and sculptures that looked vaguely familiar.

In fact, much of what occupied the room, art and furniture alike, seemed vaguely familiar. Evan examined the room more intently without moving from beside the couch Sylvester rested on. It was all designed to fool the eye into thinking the owner was wealthy beyond her means. He'd seen wealth before, and lived with it most of his life. This wasn't the real thing, but a very well-put-together imitation.

Alex was standing at a mantle, staring intently at a sculpture, perched on the marble. He picked up the figurine and began fingering it, choosing that to occupy his hands instead of turning the ring around.

Alex! Why didn't Sylvester tell me you were here?

Evan turned in time to see Madame Duvia descend the stairs regally. She was taller than Alex, with pale white skin and artificially colored brown hair. Her eyes were green, but not as vivid as those of her son. When they caught sight of Evan, there was no sparkle, only a dull, lifeless registration.

Mother. Alex walked only halfway to the stairs, subtly forcing his mother to pass Evan and meet him halfway. They embraced more warmly than he expected, then Alex pointed at Evan, turning his mother with one hand on her shoulder. This is Evan. Evan, this is my mother, Madame Duvia.

Really, Alex. I expected you to come alone. Madame Duvia took the slight momentum her son started and turned it into a complete reversal of direction. Instead of looking at Evan, she spun around and walked purposefully into the next room, swirling a long scarf behind her.

Evan watched Alex follow her, then took up position behind as they entered yet another white room. Madame Duvia had marched to the opposite side of the room and was pouring herself a drink when they entered. Alex seemed to hesitate, then wandered to the right side of the large room where a long, expensive table sat unadorned. Ignoring every chair in the room, Alex sat on the table, statue still in hand.

Evan quickly scanned the room and judged there to be only one exit. Deeming it appropriate, he remained where he was, standing just inside the room where he could watch both Alex and his mother without having to get any closer.

I'm very proud of you, Alex. I heard about your find. Madame Duvia turned to face her son. Her eyelids lowered instantly when she realized where he was sitting, but she said nothing. But you didn't have to claim it for the Vision's crew.

Yes, mother, I did. Alex set the statue on the table and started fingering his ring. If you heard about that, then you heard about the rest of it.

Madame Duvia's face flushed momentarily. Evan got the impression it was the most color the woman usually saw, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared.

She shot Evan a look. At least it wasn't a complete loss.

No, not a complete loss. Alex glanced at Evan, then looked at his mother. Did you know Spencer faked his death?

Certainly not before I heard the rumors. Madame Duvia looked appalled, but quickly recovered. Alex, your father never could be trusted, even in death, apparently. But that's over now. What are your intentions?

My intentions? Alex straightened, eyebrows arching. In regards to what, mother? The afternoon? The week?

In regards to that! She pointed a long, manicured finger directly at Evan.

Alex glanced back at Evan. His eyes were red from the hangover, but there was a tired anger flashing in them as well. Evan tensed, confused by the display but ready for anything. This didn't seem like any mother/son relationship he'd witnessed before, but he was no expert on the matter.

That, is Evan, mother. He has a name. He's a person, not a thing. Alex slid off the table and walked toward his mother, pausing long enough to shoot Evan a glance. I'd hoped you'd have changed your attitude after all these months.

He's worth a fortune, Alex. You can't still be thinking of turning him into some kind of friend or something. Not when this much money is at stake. Madame Duvia showed no signs of backing down in the face of her son's anger. You could pay for your ship! Why, Major Daniels has already called me to see if you'll still entertain his bid.

Entertaining is what you do, mother. Not me. Alex turned his back on the woman and paced in the other direction. He's not for sale, never will be.

It was like watching a teenager rebelling against an order not to alter his own body. Evan had witnessed several such displays while on assignment for Spencer off world or onboard a cruise ship filled with wealthy, bored children looking for anything they could find to disrupt their parent's ordered lives. Even physically, Alex was a complete contrast to his mother. Dressed in dark, slightly worn pants and a deep blue shirt with Ascalon insignia coloring the short sleeves and collar, his shorter stature and somewhat unkempt hair made a sharp contradiction to the white walls and marbled floors he was pacing. Evan realized just then how dramatically opposite he must look in these white rooms.

You mean, you're keeping it?

He's my second-in-command, mother! He saved my life out there, and the lives of my crew. Alex turned to Evan and held his gaze for a long, silent moment. If you could just take a minute and try to see this the way I do, I think you'd really learn some things from him. He turned back to his mother. I have.

Really, Alex. Madame Duvia turned dramatically and walked to a small table where she set down her drink. He's property. He'd do whatever you told him to do. How can he possibly do otherwise?

Evan glanced at Alex, but his Keeper merely stared back at his mother, clearly too frustrated to speak.

Madame Duvia turned back around to face her son. I suppose in a way it's very noble of you, taking the moral high ground as it were. But honestly, this . . . He's Sha'erah, Alex. You can pretend all you want. Call him your second-in-command, your partner. She raised both arms into the air in a dramatic shrug. Call him your friend for all it matters. He's still Sha'erah. Nothing he does will be motivated by anything else.

Evan watched Alex as he listened to Madame Duvia's words. She was right, but in a very wrong way. Couldn't she see how her words were hurting her son by insulting everything he'd done over the past nine months? Whether Evan understood it or not, he did know Alex was like no other Keeper. For the first time in his life, he actually enjoyed being where the ring was. For once security didn't mean sacrificing.

Alex had wandered back to the table while she spoke, his back to his mother. He picked up the statue again and turned slowly. You know, you're just like him.

What are you talking about?

He hefted the statue in one hand and Evan tensed, unsure if Alex would actually attack his own mother or not, or what he would do if he did.

He wasn't what he seemed, either. Alex continued to stare at the figurine in his hand. Everything in his apartment was rented. Right down to the art work. He raised the statue higher. He even had this exact statue. Alex set the figurine on the table. You're not going to change, are you, mother? I was a fool to come here, wasn't I?

Alex, don't be ridiculous.

Alex remained where he was but held his mother's gaze intently. Evan is not my property, he's my friend. I'm not asking for your approval or consent, I'm just stating facts. Thanks to my father, eighty-six people are dead. I gave the claim to Franklin's crew. That's all over and done with. He shook his head almost sadly. I was a fool to bring him here, wasn't I? I really hoped you'd change, if you just met him. But you won't even look at him. He looked around the room, still shaking his head. I'm so sick and tired of everyone pretending to be something they're not.

Alex, control your temper. Madame Duvia's scold went unheeded as her son turned and walked out the door. Come back here this instant! Evan stepped aside, allowing his Keeper to pass through on his way to the main door while keeping his eyes on the woman bearing down on him.

Just leave me alone, mother. I made a mistake thinking you could really change. Alex stormed outside, slamming the massive doors shut with an unsatisfying, slow thud.

Evan followed his Keeper outside and found him standing several yards down the drive, dialing for another car on his PDA. He slowed, squinting in the sun, and stopped a few feet behind Alex. Before he could speak, he heard the doors opening again. He turned and faced Madame Duvia, blocking her path to her son. Alex doesn't wish to be disturbed.

The look the woman threw at Evan was ice cold, but tinged with a palpable apprehension. Her eyes widened as she stared at the Sha'erah, then searched for her son.

Evan made no move to step aside. They were the same height, so he made no attempt to look down or even disapprovingly at the woman. But he made it perfectly clear that his Keeper's wish not to be disturbed by this woman -- mother or not -- was going to be enforced. With one final huff of indignation, Madame Duvia turned and stormed back into her house, slamming the door with more success.

Well, that went well. Alex shut off his PDA and slid it into thigh pocket. Car should be here in a minute.

Evan blinked, turning to look at Alex. You call that going well?

Hell yes. Alex slid the darkened glasses into a pocket, apparently over the hangover's effects.

He never had a mother, and as a Sha'erah, it never occurred to him to care. But having seen other people interacting over the years, he'd certainly expected something other than what he just saw.

I don't think she likes me much. Evan followed Alex in a slow walk toward the end of the long drive as they waited for the car to arrive.

Alex laughed while slipping his tinted glasses back on. Don't take it personally, Evan. Sometimes she doesn't like me much either. He sighed and glanced back at the house. Listen, I'm sorry about that. I shouldn't have brought you here. I just -- I actually thought she might change, you know? I thought if she could just meet you . . . Never mind.

The car arrived and Alex got in, giving the driver instructions to a park Evan didn't catch the name of. He slid in after his Keeper and made a mental note of the direction the driver took.

They followed the road leading away from Madame Duvia's large white residence, heading further away from the city. Within minutes, they were surrounded by a large, spacious park complete with decorative pathways and meticulously trimmed grass. Trees of various sizes, shapes, and colors dotted the landscape, but to the west began to grow thicker and closer together, forming a rather thickly wooded area where a wide creek flowed and disappeared in the heavy canopied darkness.

When the car stopped several yards from the beginning of the wooded area, in a small turn-around designed for land vehicles to change their direction, Alex climbed out, then leaned toward the driver.

We need a ride back in an hour.

Yes, sir. The driver accepted the credits with a nod of his head and a quick smile, then drove away, back the way they'd come.

Evan glanced around, automatically scanning the area for any feel of danger. There were a few people walking in the park where the trees were more sparsely placed. Lovers out for a stroll, children playing while fretting women called out for them not to get too dirty. The sun was warm on his skin, reminding him how long it had been since he'd even been on a planet, let alone in the sun. Nine months on the Ascalon hadn't seemed like a long time until that very moment.

What are we doing here?

Alex was looking around, smiling almost to himself. He slid the lenses off and pocketed them, squinting slightly in the bright sunlight. I used to play here when I was a kid. He turned and scanned the park, then pointed to the creek that widened as it exited the wooded area. That was a hell of a lot bigger when I was a kid.

Evan glanced at the creek, then looked back at Alex. Most things are.

Alex laughed shortly, then started walking toward the edge of the woods. I used to sneak out of the house and come down here to waste the entire day. Mother would find out Sylvester had no idea where I was and completely lose it, then ground me for a week.

I don't blame her. Evan was treated to a glance from his Keeper, one eyebrow raised. You leave without any trace, with no way for her to contact you or know you're safe. I'd ground you, too.

Hell, you'd lock me in my room.

Evan trusted his damn right I would look sufficed for an answer.

They reached the edge of the creek and Alex bent down, gathering several small stones in one hand. One by one, he tossed the rocks into the water, making them skip several times before sinking below the surface.

What was it about that statue you didn't like?

Alex looked up, a frustrated expression wrinkling his face, then shrugged. It just hit me all of a sudden. How much like him she is.

Evan shifted both feet and glanced past the creek, trying to figure this one out. His Keeper had the most annoying tendency to shift the conversation without prior notice. She didn't seem anything like Spencer to me. She wasn't brutal, except in attitude. She hadn't cheated or killed anyone that he knew of. She was simply . . . impersonal. Okay, so they shared one trait.

Alex stopped skipping rocks and walked up a slight rise, then sat heavily on the ground, facing the park with his back to the wooded area. Evan followed, sitting beside him in the opposite direction. Something was bothering him, he could see that. But until Alex opened up, there wasn't anything Evan could do to help.

You know, I lived in that house until I was eighteen. I knew most of what she had was designed to look like more than it was, you know? She needed to be around wealth, she's always been like that. And it suits her. He picked up a twig and started peeling the bark absently.

Evan wasn't sure where he was going with the conversation. Your father liked what money did for him, but he didn't like wealth so much.

Alex glanced at him, his face shielded from the sun by Evan's head. I'm not sure I see a difference. He looked at the stick in his hands and shrugged. All I know is, all that time it never struck me quite as wrong as it did this morning. A section of bark was peeled off roughly, then tossed aside. Looking around that house, I realized how fake it all is. Alex glanced at Evan again. Everything's either borrowed or rented. It's not hers. Just like his apartment.

Evan sighed and looked at the trees while Alex continued to destroy the stick in his hands. He thought about pointing out how his own ship was only leased, but realized immediately that wasn't the thing to bring up. His second thought -- reminding Alex that he owned something more valuable than his mother's entire façade -- was also not such a good idea, considering how his Keeper seemed to feel about the subject of ownership.

All things considered, he deemed it best to remain silent, and let Alex continue to lead.

After several minutes of calm silence, broken only by the occasional call of an animal scurrying up a tree, Alex tossed what was left of his stick away and leaned back, supporting his weight on the palms of his hands which he set firmly on the grassy ground behind his back.

You know, I lost my virginity in those woods.

Evan glanced at the thick forest and tried hard not to picture that. How old were you?

Fifteen. What about you?

He had to search his memory quickly, then try to calculate his age. Sixteen, I think. Maybe a little sooner.

"You think? Alex raised one eyebrow dramatically as he glanced at Evan. How much of your childhood do you remember?"

Childhood?

Yeah, you know, school.

Evan shook his head once. Sha'erah don't attend school, we're trained until we're five, then given to our Keeper.

Alex glanced away for a moment. What was that like, then? Do you remember much?

He shrugged. I remember a room, a couple of others like me, and constant memorization. We had to learn what we were, and what it meant, until it was a part of us. Then I was given to Spencer and started working.

Alex held his gaze for several seconds without speaking. His face an unreadable mix of anger and disbelief. Finally he shook his head and looked out at the expanse of park again, squinting slightly. When I was five, the most important things on my mind were collecting bugs and getting dirty.

Evan knew his Keeper didn't quite understand, or didn't want to understand, and there was little hope that he ever would really understand. But it was all so simple. It's all what you know, that's all.

Alex searched the ground for another bit of the bark to play with, listening.

You thought nothing of your mother's life while you lived in it. Someone else might have felt differently, looking in at you. But to you, it was just your life.

But I know better now. Alex spoke to the bark in his hands, not looking up. I've finally seen it for what it is.

You've changed. Things aren't the same for you any more. Evan shrugged. Things certainly weren't the same for him any more. He'd spent most of his life doing Spencer's dirty work. Now he was with Alex, doing things that didn't keep him from sleeping at night any longer.

Alex sighed as if he'd just made up his mind about something. He tossed the bark away and watched it tumble along the grass, pushed by a soft summer breeze. Nothing's the same anymore. And it shouldn't be, ever again.

Now, what did that mean? I doubt your mother will forget this morning any time soon.

With a frustrated grunt, Alex stood and paced a few feet away, then turned back to Evan. When she looks at you, all she sees is a price tag.

That's normal. Evan got up and brushed the grass from his pants.

Normal? He took a few steps forward. And that guy on the shuttle coming down here, the one who couldn't stop staring, that's normal too?

Evan sighed, watching Alex. Behind him the rented car returned and parked in the turn-around, patiently waiting for them. What's bothering you?

Alex just stood there, looking as frustrated as ever. Finally he shook his head once and turned toward the car. Nothing. Come on, let's get something to eat.

In the nine months since they'd come together, Evan had learned Alex Marcase's version of nothing, was usually something.