Higher Ground by Becky Black (most read books of all time .txt) 📕

reason he’d want to go to the communications center—the only place an off-planet distress call could be sent from. He must be absolutely certain, because that wouldn’t only get him fired from his job; sending an unauthorized distress call would get him arrested.

“If you’re going to do what I think you’re going to do, how are you going to get past the Franes?”

“The Franes?”

“Simon and Visha. They’re the comms center techs. Married couple.”

“I’ll have to persuade them.”

It wasn’t any kind of euphemism, Adam thought. He wasn’t going to bust in and tie them up or something. He believed he could go in there and talk them into it. Risk their jobs—and their home, since the center included a house on site—because of what he told them.

It wasn’t arrogance. He looked damned worried about it. He sure didn’t seem to think he’d walk in there and sell them on it in a couple of minutes. But he believed he could do it if he tried hard enough.

Zach stayed quiet most of the rest of the way to the comms center, and Adam gave him his peace, knowing he’d be thinking about how to persuade the Franes. Now and again he asked a question about the couple. Adam could answer a few things, though he didn’t know them well. They were under the authority of the council, quite low down in the pecking order.

“Do they have any children?” Zach asked as Adam began to slow, the comms center just ahead, its roof bristling with dishes and antennae.

Adam frowned, trying to remember. “Yes, um, a little girl, if I’m remembering right. Don’t know her age. A toddler, though.”

Zach smiled. “Excellent. Thank you. And thank you for bringing me here,” he added as Adam parked in front of the building.

“My pleasure. I guess I’ll see you at the meeting.”

“Adam, you have a lot of friends, don’t you? Will you try to persuade as many of them to come to the meeting as you possibly can?”

“I will. And I won’t forget to pick up the professor.”

“Good. Yes. See you later.”

“Good luck.” On impulse, Adam leaned over and kissed him. For luck. Zach opened his mouth at once, tongue eager for a wrestle with Adam’s. Bristles rasped against Adam’s chin. He couldn’t have gone home to freshen up after leaving’s Adam’s house. Adam pulled back, breathing fast, feeling a flush of heat in his cheeks, seeing it mirrored in Zach’s.

“Thank you,” Zach said, his voice hoarse. He cleared his throat, then opened the door and stepped out.

Thank you? Adam watched him lift his bike out of the truck’s bed and wheel it to the door of the house. Who said “thank you” for a kiss? Maybe he meant thank you for wishing him luck. Or he interpreted it as forgiveness from Adam. Still, who said “thank you” for a kiss?

Adam really had never met anyone like Zach before. He laughed, turned the truck around, and headed back to town. He cruised slowly along the main street when he got there, thinking about where he went next. He could go back to work and talk to his colleagues, make sure they came to the meeting. But Wilson would probably be waiting to snatch the keys to the truck from him and rip him a new one about not using it for personal business. Adam didn’t much care about the reprimand, but without the truck, his transport options were limited, and he had to pick up Professor Korrie later.

So he wouldn’t go back there, not today. He parked and took out his Link to send a message to his colleagues, urging them to come to the meeting tonight. Telling them that, whatever they’d heard, Zach Benesh was not crazy. Not about this anyway.

“Afternoon, Mr. Gray.” A man’s voice through his open window made him look up, startled.

“Sheriff Statham,” Adam said, covering his minor alarm. Had they sent the cops to haul his ass out of the truck and take it back? Statham was second generation, the son of founders. Adam showed the appropriate respect. “Am I parked illegally, sir?”

“No, that’s fine. Adam, I’m told you were seen here in town earlier talking to Zach Benesh and you drove off with him. Is that right?”

Damn. “Ah, yes, sir.” Adam knew what the next question would be.

“Do you know where he is right now?”

“No, sir.”

Shit, he had lied to the police. That had to be illegal, right? They probably only wanted a bit of a word with Zach about the message and maybe about barging into Johnson’s office. But if they found him persuading the Franes to send out an unauthorized distress signal, they might lock him up; then he couldn’t hold his meeting, and everything would come to a halt, and if he was right about the island…

“I dropped him off outside town and he rode off on his bike. I haven’t seen him since.”

“Okay, thank you. You’d better get your truck back to campus. I hear your professor is spitting nails about it.”

“Will do.” Adam restarted the truck and set off.

Chapter Eight

Zach sat on the couch in the Franes’ living room, with a cup of coffee in his hands. The Franes were a young couple, Simon, a black man, and Visha, a pretty woman with light brown skin and long black hair. They were talking with their heads close together, Zach’s Link in their hands. Meanwhile, their four-year-old daughter, Amina, who had quickly got over any wariness of Zach, had brought out armfuls of her dolls and stuffed animals, lined them up on the couch, and started telling Zach all of their names. As she chattered on and her parents examined the data, Zach’s thoughts kept circling back round to the last words he’d said to Adam.

Thank you.

What kind of idiot said “thank you” for a kiss? But it had caught Zach off guard. His mind had been whirling with so many thoughts—about what he’d say to the Franes, what he’d say at