Stark Surrender Read Online Free

more coffee? But when he picked up the carafe waiting on the cerametal tray hovering nearby, it was nearly empty, and the small beaker of creamer was half gone. On a small plate beside this sat two plump whole grain scones. He glanced at them without interest.
    Could a fugue state this strong stem from a sleep gesic, or was there something more going on? His com records also showed he arrived back here in town last evening and delivered a passenger to an address near the seashore. He couldn’t recall who that had been.
    He was fairly certain he'd had several drinks in some bar along the beach, and   later at his house, as well. But he hadn't ingested enough alcohol to be still under the influence, surely. Unless he'd then combined the alcohol with some other drug and set off a reaction in his system which still lingered.
    Did he indulge in substances stronger than drink? Why couldn't he even remember such a basic fact about himself? His hands shook, and sweat dampened his upper lip as panic roiled harder in his chest, seeking to overpower him. He held it back only with sheer force of will. He was Logan Stark, and he was in control of his world, not the reverse.
    "Mr. Stark?" The pale, blonde woman in the doorway was eyeing him with concern. She was as polished as the office, from her pale gray business suit to her subtle cosmetics.
    He’d forgotten her name again.
    Blinking back the darkness as the slithering tentacles in his mind crept further, greedy to devour more of his consciousness, Stark rolled his neck, grasping at normality with sheer strength of will. Sweat broke out over his body. He wanted to rip open the high throat of his tailored jacket and tear it off. The suit was as suddenly as constricting as shackles, binding him in a role he no longer understood, or wanted.
    But he must keep up the pretense of normality. Don't let them see him vulnerable—this he knew deep in his bones. Any sign of weakness could be exploited. He should know, he’d done so himself.
    Dull despair weighed on him. He was so damn tired of the struggle between his better nature and raw instincts.
    "Yes, come in," he managed.
    The Aquarian nodded, her relief evident. "Yes, sir. Here you are." She glided into the room to place a holopad before him on his desk. The screen was dark, but in the center a silver space ship flew endlessly toward a bright star. A lodestar. It gleamed from the holovid, mocking his inability to follow.
    The woman flicked her long fingers across the screen, and a menu of documents appeared, waiting in the virtual file display. "May I freshen your coffee, sir?"
    "Yes." When she returned, he was still staring at the virtual files, their gleaming titles taunting him. What the hells was he supposed to do with them?
    "So, just signatures?" he murmured as if thinking aloud.
    "Yes, sir." His cup full, she set the carafe down and reached to flick her finger over the first title. "Ready for your print."
    Ah, an oval at the bottom of the first page, exactly the right shape and size for a fingerprint. This he knew. Relief washed over him again, a wave so strong it nearly swamped him.
    He scanned the agreement to supply and help fund the TerraCon Expedition, a joint enterprise between LodeStar Corp and Masterson Enterprises in an extensive exploration of Frontieran lands and seas, beginning with the mountains to the north and east of the settlement of Adamant, and continuing to points east on an attached holomap. Straightforward, and thank God for it, as he could scarcely concentrate through the pain in his head.
    He braced his left arm on the desk, holding himself upright and steady as he pressed his right index finger to the spot.
    His assistant flicked to the next page. "Next, the Aquarianus Expedition."
    This was a similar agreement, to supply and help fund an expedition headed by Prince Azuran of Aquarius himself in a complete exploration, sampling and cataloging of Frontieran seas, and the life forms within.
    Hells, the