The Gate Jumpers Saga: Science Fiction Romance Collection

by Elin Wyn

  Before Sherre could react, a whirl of gears sounded off all around them, and a harsh vibration ran through the ship as the landing gear locked them into place.

  In the darkness, Sherre couldn’t see much of anything, though she did feel the slither of the safety belt retreat back across her lap, freeing her for the first time since they’d taken off. Sherre felt relieved at the loss of it, and she gripped the armrests to push herself up onto her feet.

  Zaddik beat her to it, and the sudden crunch of his leather stiff clothing in the darkness made her jump, stilling her ascent. She sat there, feeling utterly useless, as she strained her eyes in an attempt to make out Zaddik in the small space. The last thing she wanted to do was stand up and run into him, and she huffed in annoyance.

  “Shhh,” Zaddik whispered, and Sherre jumped at his hot breath suddenly tickling her ear. She realized then that he must’ve been standing over her, leaning in from above her chair. She nodded jerkily in reply, and shivered at the feel of his hair brushing her cheek.

  Zaddik didn’t say anything else, but placed a gentle hand on top of hers, gripping it with his fingers to urge her up. To Sherre’s humiliation, her whole hand tingled pleasantly from the touch, and she gulped back a moan to keep quiet.

  Desperate to get her hand out of his grip as quickly as possible, she followed his lead hastily, jumping up out of her seat immediately. Unfortunately, Zaddik hadn’t expected her to move so quickly, and her speed had only made her clumsy, sending her crashing into his chest.

  It reminded her of the first time she had fallen against him, and she blushed madly, her heart banging against her ribcage in humiliation. Still, her hands that’d caught his shoulders hummed with an odd sort of excited activity, leaving her fingers feeling boneless as they tingled sensitively.

  “Um, Sor—” she started to say, but Zaddik slapped a hand over her mouth, cutting her off. Too embarrassed to care, Sherre opened her mouth to apologize again, but remembered at the last moment that he wanted silence, not apologies. Still, her lips had parted, and in her nervousness she’d stuck out her tongue to lick them.

  And licked Zaddik’s palm in the process.

  Gasping, Sherre squeezed her eyes shut, praying that he’d just grumble and ignore it, but she could hear the sound of his feet as he jumped back, ripping his hand away as if he’d been burned.

  Mortified, Sherre covered her face with her own hands, thankful for the blinding darkness that they were both standing in.

  She almost jumped when he cleared his throat.

  “Sherre,” he rumbled quietly, his voice only a step away from her at most. “You—”

  Hsshhhhssssh.

  A low hissing sound from just outside the pod made them both freeze, and Sherre held her breath as she imagined just what had made the noise.

  ‘Snake men,’ her captain had called them.

  Thagzars.

  Sherre could hear her heart beating in her ears, speeding up as she realized that she was suddenly very opposed to seeing a Thagzar face to face. Swallowing hard around the growing lump in her throat, she tried to distract herself by counting the heartbeats still drumming in her ears. She was on twenty when Zaddik finally moved and touched her shoulder.

  With only the rustle of his clothes to lead her, Sherre shuffled after him in the pod, her heart in her throat. She bumped into Zaddik when he abruptly stopped, and heard the tap of his fingers on the controls.

  With a final push of a button, the pod’s door opened.

  Sherre didn’t know what to expect. It wasn’t like the pod was slow – it was an efficient ship, one with quiet gears and a fast response. The door practically flew open, and in an instant light flooded them while the bridge unfolded to clink against the floor. But the moment that happened, Zaddik swept out a hand to push them both back against the screen in a desperate attempt to stay out of sight.

  “…Clear,” he whispered cautiously, sticking his head out to take a look at their surroundings. “But be on alert.”

  “No problem,” she nodded, peeking over his shoulder as he tentatively took a step outside of the pod and motioned for her to follow.

  They were in the bottom of the mothership, that much was obvious even to Sherre. Just like an Earth ship, the docking bay was part landing strip, part engine room, but that was where the similarities ended. Unlike Sherre’s ship, the Eiztar obviously hadn’t sacrificed lighting for sake of budgeting, and just like that, the massive shadows and blind spots that Sherre had been concerned about were eliminated altogether.

  “Here,” Zaddik breathed, quickly crouching in the pod’s doorway to hop off the side of the pod bridge. Turning around quickly, he faced Sherre with his arms outstretched and hissed, “Jump.”

  Sherre wasn’t about to question the alien with a home world renowned for their heights, and she casually stepped out of the pod and off of the bridge. Well, about as casual as a girl can be when she’s expecting enemy gunfire to mow her down any second.

  “Oof,” Sherre breathed as Zaddik caught her under the arms.

  “Sorry,” Zaddik muttered, and Sherre froze as his breath puffed against her lips. For the first time since they’d paired up, they were face to face, and Sherre couldn’t help but stare into his sharp blue eyes head-on.

  “Uh,” she said, shrugging. “No problem—”

  She stopped, her eyes wide as Zaddik bent closer, brushing his mouth against hers. For a moment, she wondered what he was doing, but when he didn’t push her any further or pull even the slightest bit back, she gulped, accidentally closing her lips to him.

  And yet, he still did not move, his breath hot against her face.

  Sherre had no choice but to breathe it in, and while she had no idea what the average Eldiriak’s diet was, she could swear that she smelled a subtle scent of pumpkin and cinnamon.

  Swallowing again, Sherre opened her mouth, inadvertently rubbing her lips against Zaddik’s as she did. He didn’t take it as the invitation that she’d thought he might, but stayed quite still, his blue eyes reflecting an uneasiness that Sherre couldn’t help but also feel herself.

  Yet, she could feel her racing heart steadily overpowering it, and maybe it was the chill of the ship or the adrenaline from the danger, but Sherre couldn’t help it.

  She kissed him.

  It tasted like November in his mouth. At least, it did for the second that she surged forward, grinding their lips together in a knock of teeth and a smash of her nose.

  “Sorry!” she blurted, turning her head away as she pressed a hand to her mouth. She wanted to die of embarrassment, to hide her face and keep two steps behind Zaddik for the rest of the mission.

  But Zaddik wasn’t giving her that option. In fact, she felt him hold her up higher, perhaps in an attempt to make her look at him. She dared a glance, both relieved and humiliated to see a small grin on his face.

  “Um, Zaddik—”

  Ssshhhhssssh!

  Sherre only had time to blink before Zaddik practically dropped her to the floor, shoving her behind him as he moved to defend them from whatever had made the noise. Only, there was no one to fight in the empty room.

  “Zaddik,” Sherre said slowly, tugging on his jacket. For a hiss, the sound had been incredibly loud, and she could’ve sworn that she’d even heard it echo. “Do you guys have speakers?” Her own ship did not, but it was already obvious that an Earth mothership did not measure up to even the sheer size of theirs.

  Zaddik’s hunched battle pose seemed to straighten, and he whispered, “You think they’re communicating?”

  Suddenly, another hiss rang through the room, and Sherre nodded, certain this time. “Making announcements,” she guessed. “Maybe clearing the ship or trying to figure out how to run it.”

  Zaddik half-turned to look down at her over his shoulder, and Sherre blushed to see the grin from earlier still on his face. “And you said you wouldn’t be much help,” he winked, slipping the laser gun, that Sherre hadn’t seen him draw, back into his belt.r />
  Sherre shrugged, hopelessly trying to hold back yet another blush under his praise. “Well, I’m not completely hopeless,” she rolled her eyes.

  “Not by a long shot,” Zaddik nodded. Then, bending slightly, he pulled out a slim black box from his boot. “This has enough juice for one shot. Know how to aim?” he asked, holding it out to Sherre.

  She accepted it with a sense of dread. “I’ve had training,” she said hesitantly, remembering all of the failed target practice she’d been put through at the academy. Her poor performance there had been a big part of why she’d ended up in the scouting division.

  “Perfect,” Zaddik said, handing it off to her with what Sherre could only call misplaced confidence. “Well then,” he grunted, drawing out a large laser cannon from under the back of his jacket. “Let’s take my baby back, shall we?”

  Zaddik

  Zaddik was careful to keep his mouth shut as he led Sherre through the bowels of his ship, but damn if there wasn’t a steady stream of curses going through his head. He was still having second thoughts about taking on the Thagzars, but rather than being unable to focus, his full attention was now on Sherre.

  It was like her very presence was suffocating, and it took everything he had to keep putting one foot deliberately forward instead of turning around to usher her back into the safety of the pod.

  Tempting as it was, he knew that it wouldn’t be so safe once the Thagzars noticed it. Well, that, or the snakes would fly back to Peshdushdar first, effectively trapping them until he and Sherre were found and captured, or worse.

  The thought made Zaddik mentally shake himself. Since when had he feared the consequences of going up against the Thagzars? He hadn’t been scared of that since he was twelve years old, bruised and bloody after the first night of the rebellion. Why was he desperate to run now, and in the face of unknown scouts?

  But then, Zaddik knew that wasn’t quite right either. He didn’t want to run – running implied dropping everything and everyone just to save his own skin. Rather, he wanted to bunker down; to get Sherre out of the way of the firing squad and set up some defenses while he was at it.

  Though, as he and Sherre maneuvered around the junk cluttering up the engine room, he knew that it was a little too late for that now.

  “Wait,” Sherre whispered suddenly, grabbing his arm. They were just a few feet away from the main door, one that he’d seen himself through multiple times whenever he’d been looking for Dojan. The guy was always tinkering with something, and it never failed to frustrate him when Zaddik’s code overrode his to get past a locked keypad.

  “What?” Zaddik replied quietly, turning to look down at her green eyes. For all the anxiety that he was feeling, it made his heart skip to see her raw concern in them.

  Licking her lips, she asked worriedly, “Are you all right?” At his blank face, she pressed, “You’re sweating.”

  Her statement made Zaddik want to huff a laugh. He hadn’t noticed before, but the inside of the ship was sweltering hot, and he was sweating bullets because of it. “The Thagzars,” he grunted, taking a moment to wipe his forehead with the back of his arm. “For all their conquests, they are a sensitive race.” They’d always been quick to abandon the colder climates, which had long been cited as the key to the rebellion’s success. “I’ll bet my ship that they upped the temperature the moment that they slithered aboard.”

  “Oh,” Sherre said, pressing her hand to her own forehead. “I thought it was kind of cold, to be honest.”

  Zaddik frowned at her oddly, wondering how in the hell he was wilting from the heat while she was standing there like a fresh daisy. Were humans just better at handling drastic changes in temperature?

  “Well, it’s only going to get colder when we get to the control room. We’re going to turn up the cold and wait for them to leave. Now, you ready?” he said, motioning to the door.

  There was no telling how many Thagzars were – or weren’t – behind it, and the thought left a heavy pit in his stomach.

  Sherre nodded sharply, holding the flash laser that he’d given her in a white-knuckled grip. “Ready.”

  Zaddik nodded in kind and entered his personnel code. With a mechanical whoosh, the door slid open, and he was quick to punch the red button on the keypad that turned off the sensors, effectively keeping the door open while he and Sherre stayed hidden.

  When he didn’t hear any Thagzar hisses or laser fire, Zaddik gave the signal to Sherre and moved forward, holding his own laser cannon at the ready.

  With a small flourish he rounded into the hallway, his weapon raised high with his trigger finger itching to move.

  The hall was empty.

  “This way,” he urged, jerking his head to the left door just a few steps ahead. It would take them straight to the dorms, and to the firepower that Kogav and he had long kept hidden between their rooms. Once he armed himself and Sherre with some of the stronger weaponry to fight off the Thagzar scouts, they could take the three turns down the south hall, ending them in the control room.

  “Here,” he said, taking care to stay close to the wall as he punched in the code to his dorm. “Inside,” he motioned gruffly, only following once Sherre had sprinted through the doorway.

  “Oh,” Sherre said as the door closed behind them, her shoulders drooping. She must’ve thought that there might’ve been Thagzars inside. “I’d wondered why you wanted me to go in first. Is that what the code was for?” Dropping her hands to her swing at her sides as she crossed the room, Sherre dropped onto the edge of his bed and said, “You were unlocking it?”

  Zaddik wanted to respond; to agree, or – better yet – tease a blush out of her. He wanted to make her laugh in spite of the danger just beyond the door, but he couldn’t, not when the sight of her – her tanned legs boldly crossed, her suit pulling tight across her chest – on his bed was making his mouth go dry.

  “We don’t have codes to lock ours,” she added. “So I thought you were just setting up a sensor when you messed with the keypad. What’s your code, anyway?” she asked, glancing around the room.

  Zaddik tried not to feel self-conscious and forced a gulp, choking on a reply, “Twenty-Sixty.” Then, clearing his throat, he added, “My personnel number.”

  “Whoa, really? My number’s way longer than that,” she giggled.

  Zaddik wasn’t stupid, he knew a nervous laugh when he heard one. But it still didn’t change the fact that Sherre was giggling on his bed, her shining eyes catching the little light from his bedside solar stone as she looked at him.

  “Zaddik?” she said, tilting her head as she frowned.

  Obviously, she had asked him something. Snapping out of his thoughts, Zaddik said, “Sorry?”

  “I’m not second guessing you,” she assured him. “But why did you bring us here?”

  “Ah,” he said, straightening up as he marched over to the trunks stacked high against the far wall.

  The familiar sight of them reminded him why he’d stuffed them full in the first place, and of what was at stake if he failed to retake his ship. Patting the spot on his belt where the vial was, he bent to unlock the first trunk. “Keep the flash laser on your person,” he said over his shoulder, “But put it away. You’re going to need both hands free for what I’m about to give you.”

  “Ooh,” Sherre said, jumping to her feet so that she was just a step behind him. Sliding the flash laser into her shoe, she asked, “What is it?”

  Zaddik picked up the large weapon with care, knowing full well just what it was capable of. “A Kaltfrost,” he explained, offering it to Sherre.

  “It’s heavy,” she said, surprised as she grabbed it with both hands. “Is it a cannon?”

  “It doesn’t shoot lasers,” he said, pointing to the trigger as he showed her how to hold it. “The Thagzars fear the cold, and they created this to sentence their enemies to the most painful death that they could imagine. Only, it didn’t work on us too well – Eldiriak’s, I mean. Sure, it hurt like hel
l, and maybe we lost a few limbs to frostbite after some months, but it didn’t make us curl up and die like they’d been expecting. So, they retired it as a torture device, if anything.” Reaching back into the trunk for his own choice of weapons, he added, “Works wonders against them, though.”

  Scrunching up her face, Sherre asked, “So, what, it’s like a freeze ray?”

  Zaddik had never heard that term before, but it sounded accurate. “Certainly,” he shrugged, not really caring what she called it so long as she understood what it could do. “But make no mistake: to the Thagzars, it’s a death ray.”

  “And, it’s got a big blast, or…?” she asked, frowning down at it in her arms.

  “Just aim for their chest,” Zaddik said, eyeing the collection of hand lasers he’d accumulated over the years as he reached for the howitzer shells in the corner.

  “Wouldn’t shooting the head be better? They are snakes,” she muttered.

  Zaddik didn’t bother asking what she was on about, and said, “Trust me, if you hit them with that, they’ll go down.”

  “Oh. Good range?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “The best,” he grinned.

  Sherre

  Sherre wondered if now was a good time to mention that she wasn’t the best shot in the world.

  “This way,” Zaddik ushered her across the hall. Slipping through the door he’d just opened, she blinked at the bright colors.

  It was a stark difference to the muted earth tones in Zaddik’s quarters, and she turned to ask him about it. He seemed to read her mind as their eyes met, and gestured to the room with a grimace, grumbling, “It’s Kogav’s.”

  “Oh,” she said, remembering his lavender eyes. “Is he from a tropical planet—”

  Zaddik barked out a laugh before she could finish. “Tropical? That boy’s from Zurole! And you can take it from me, the only pop of color in that place is the occasional splash of blood across the sand.”