Assassin

by Cyndi Friberg

  “How do the Niffal choose their councilmember?”

  His interest was in her people, not her. Regardless of the intensity of his gaze, she couldn’t let herself forget that. She was an assignment to him, an obligation. “We hold a lottery, and the person selected must serve. We do not see this as an honor or even something beneficial. The other councilmembers never take our representative seriously, so serving on the council is a task like any other.”

  He shook his head again, obviously displeased by the answer.

  He was about to ask another question, but she stopped him. “I was supposed to answer your questions after you told me the rules,” she reminded. “You’ve only listed one.”

  “You’re right.” He uncrossed his legs and leaned slightly forward. “Rule number two is, ‘I will not murder.’”

  That was common sense, so she just nodded.

  “Three is, I will protect females and children at any cost, laying down my life if necessary.’”

  That seemed extreme to her. Sarronti males protected their females, but they weren’t expected to die for them. “Are there children here? We have not seen any.”

  He shook his head with a lazy smile. “We must claim a mate before we are able to reproduce. That process has just begun.”

  She had a million questions regarding the subject. Why had they chosen human females? What happened to the females of their own species? Why had the humans agreed to venture so far from Earth? What was involved in “claiming” a female? Was it just the usual physical act or was there something metaphysical?

  Before she could organize her thoughts enough to ask, he stated the next rule. “I will defend my fellow Outcasts, laying down my life if necessary.”

  “But what if this ‘fellow’ Outcast did something terrible? Can he still expect to be supported?”

  “He can, unless whatever he did broke one of the other rules.”

  “If one of your comrades killed me? You would lay down your life to defend him?”

  “I’m pretty sure you’re female, which makes it my job to protect you.”

  “All right. What if he abused a Sarronti male?”

  “Alonov’s son is our prisoner. Has he been abused?” He was starting to sound defensive.

  “I wasn’t at the exchange, but Lady Isolaund seemed satisfied with his treatment.”

  “Not satisfied enough to honor the exchange,” he pointed out.

  “I do not understand my lady’s behavior, nor will I defend her actions. The offer was made in good faith. She should have made the exchange.” When he just stared at her intently, she prompted, “What is rule number five?”

  “Five is, I will not touch any female who has been claimed by another Outcast.”

  “So it is acceptable to attack Sarronti females?” she objected. “All of these rules only pertain to the Outcasts.”

  “When they were written, the overlord believed we were alone on the planet,” he returned, just as vehemently. “The underground doesn’t show up on scanners. We had no way to know you guys were down there.”

  “It is safer for us, if no one knows we are there.” No, it was safer for them. She was no longer part of the underground. “What is rule number six?”

  “I will not steal.

  Another common sense rule. “And seven?”

  “It has to do with how disputes are settled. I don’t remember the exact words, but it states that each ship in the Wheel has a mediator. Everyone must agree to take their issues to the mediator first. If the mediator is unable to resolve the dispute, it is brought to the High Command. If the High Command can’t resolve it, the overlord decides and Kage’s decisions are always final.”

  “Is this Kage a good overlord? Is he wise and fair to everyone?”

  “He is surprisingly likeable, and he would like to meet you, once you are fully recovered.”

  She started to insist that she was fully recovered now, but that would mean he would take her to the overlord. She knew little more than his name, but she was in no hurry to face the man who ruled over the Outcasts. Would he demand sexual service from her or would he be revolted by her like Torrin? It worked to her advantage if they found her undesirable, regardless of the cause. Let them think she had been taken by every male in the underground. As long as they kept their hands off her, they could think whatever they liked.

  Drawing her legs up in front of her, she wrapped her arms around her knees. She ignored the strange ache in her chest. “How long will I be kept here?”

  “Until the overlord decides it’s safe for you to have your own cabin.”

  She nodded, acknowledging the statement without expressing her opinion of the decree.

  His assessing gaze suddenly narrowed. “When was the last time you ate?”

  “I had my lortim this morning.”

  “That word didn’t translate. What is lortim?”

  “It is the primary sustenance for most of the Sarronti. It is a thick, palatable beverage that provides all the nutrients needed. It is generally ingested twice each planet rotation. Conventional food is extremely expensive. Most cannot afford fresh ingredients, so we make do with lortim and other beverages.”

  “The Sarronti don’t have replication capabilities?”

  “Apparently not.” She felt her eyebrows scrunch together. “I don’t know what that is.”

  “You have never eaten actual food?”

  He sounded incredulous not judgmental, but it still made her feel deficient. “I have tasted a variety of fresh foods. Lady Isolaund sometimes allowed me to finish what she did not eat, so I am not completely ignorant of such things.”

  Without explanation, he moved to the same device he’d used to produce the steaming beverage. The system came alive with a wave of his hand, and he used swipes and flicks of his long fingers to select...whatever he was selecting. He paused several times, as if deciding what to do, then completed his choices with a flurry of hand gestures. The device hummed, and a series of lights flashed. A tray appeared first, then a variety of items, one after the other. When the machine fell silent and the lights went out, Torrin lifted the try and motioned toward the small table.

  With some reluctance, she moved to the table and sat across from him. He placed the tray in front of him, then picked up a small plate and filled it with samples from all the selections. Unfamiliar smells filled her nose, and her stomach rumbled. She was used to the tense, hollow feeling in her belly it always appeared near the end of the day. But the aromas were making it worse.

  “I’ll give you more of anything you like. If you don’t like something, just don’t eat any more.”

  He handed her a glass filled with water and chunks of what looked like ice. But that couldn’t possibly be. Only the richest of the rich could afford such luxuries. The clinking sound and cool feel of the glass against her palm was so curious, she raised it immediately to her lips and took a sip. Cold water rolled across her tongue and slipped easily down her throat. It felt strange, but also wonderful. She’d seen Lady Isolaund drink iced beverages, but never had Arrista dreamed she would partake of something so decadent. “This is amazing,” she whispered as she took a larger drink.

  He seemed confused by her awe but said only, “Try some of the food.”

  She picked up the fork and sectioned off a small bit of the first dish. It was rectangular and in some sort of sauce.

  The fork was halfway to her mouth when he said, “Wait! Do the Sarronti eat meat?”

  Her eyes rounded, and she let the fork drop to the plate. “This is animal flesh?”

  “Not actually. It’s a synthetic representation of the original dish. However, it’s patterned after a bird, so I suspect you’ll still object. Don’t try that or that.” He pointed out the offensive selections. “I should have asked before I printed all of this.”

  She had heard the Outcasts were killing helpless creatures in the forest. Their brutality was a big part of why Lady Isolaund found them so objectionable. But Arrista hadn�
�t even considered that they were eating the flesh of their victims. Just the thought made her nauseous. “The Sarronti stopped eating flesh many centuries ago.”

  “I apologize. Do the Sarronti eat fish?”

  She shuddered. “I will stick to lortim if any creature must die to produce my food. Many plants offer us sustenance while continuing on their lifepath. All life, regardless of how insignificant it seems, is precious to the Sarronti.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” He took her plate back and set it aside, then filled another with the plant based selections.

  She took the plate from him, but the gleam in his eyes made her tense all over again. She hadn’t converted him to her way of thinking. Torrin found her attitude amusing. “It does not bother you to know another life ended to fill your belly?”

  “My outlook is a little more realistic, a little closer to how things work in the wild.”

  “Meaning?” She was too upset to eat, but she took another sip of the blissful water.

  “There are predators, and there is prey. I’m a predator.”

  There was no shame in his statement and no apology. And his other point was tragically accurate. Life in the wild was brutal and unforgiving. Only the very strongest survived. “You might be a predator at heart, but you are not a wild animal.”

  One corner of his mouth tipped up as he asked, “You sure about that?” When she just stared back at him in silence, he prompted, “Try something, or you’re going to hurt my feelings.”

  She looked at the plate with some trepidation. “None of these contains flesh of any kind?”

  “You made your beliefs perfectly clear. Anything I give you will abide by them from now on.”

  He handed her a clean spoon, and she scooped up a taste of the nearest dish. It was sort of copper colored and had a layer of white on top. She touched her tongue to the warm food before putting it in her mouth. The first impression was sweet, but it was also rich and a bit spicy. “This is nice.”

  After finding another dish delicious, she engaged with more enthusiasm. Eating anything should have been such a treat that she didn’t care what it was, but she loved animals too much to consider eating one. She came to the last selection and paused. It was triangular with a top and bottom layer that connected at the back. “What is this called?” The color was odd, deep purple.

  “It’s an Earth delicacy called blueberry pie. Now that we’re allowing the females to return to Earth, the battle born are being more cooperative. General Lux, their leader, allowed us to update our printer patterns with a variety of human selections. We requested clothing patterns too, but he hasn’t sent them yet. Pie is the only one I’ve had time to try. I like it a lot.”

  She scooped up a small bite with the spoon, then paused as his words sank in. “Your females weren’t allowed to return home? Did they not agree to come here in the first place?”

  He pressed back into his seat and crossed his legs, this time resting his ankle on his knee. His foot tapped out an anxious rhythm as he decided what to say. “The decision was made before I joined the Outcasts, but I participated in the evacuation, so I’m guilty too. Females are essential for what we want to create here, and we didn’t have time to persuade them individually. Each of these females had already agreed to participate in a similar program back on Earth. So we—”

  “You kidnapped them?” She set down the spoon, horrified at what he’d just told her. “All of them?”

  He uncrossed his legs, retreating behind the expressionless mask he wore so often. “Yes. We brought the females here without their permission. But we have since offered to take any of them home if they have met three of their potential mates and still wish to return. As I said before, they had all agreed to mate with Rodyte hybrid males back on Earth. All we changed was the program’s location.”

  She scoffed softly, shaking her head. “That’s a rather large change. Have many of them asked to be returned?”

  He sighed and nodded. “More than we’d hoped.”

  They lapsed into tense silence, so she decided to try the pie. The color was so strange that she hesitated to put it in her mouth, but the taste was beyond pleasant. It was sweet, yet tart, rich and smooth. She liked the second bite even more, so she quickly finished the small piece he’d given her.

  “Would you like more?” He motioned toward the rest of the triangle still on the serving tray.

  “May I have it in the morning? I’m actually quite tired.” She was fatigued, but mostly she just wanted to be alone. His gaze followed every move she made, and she wasn’t sure how to deal with him.

  “Of course. Would you like something more comfortable to sleep in?”

  “That’s not necessary,” she assured him. “I’m used to sleeping in my clothes.” Before he could argue, she stood and hurried toward the bedroom. As she reached the doorway, she looked back and said, “Thank you for rescuing me. I know I haven’t seemed grateful, but I am. And I’m sorry you are being made to guard me. I’ll try hard not to upset you again.” Without waiting for his response, she stepped inside and triggered the door.

  Chapter Three

  Torrin lay awake long into the night. He could still see Arrista’s lovely face, her wide, expressive eyes staring up at him with confusion and uncertainty. She was obviously intelligent, yet her mindset was so twisted by Sarronti “designations” that he wasn’t sure he could ever make her comfortable regardless of what he did. He wanted her to feel safe and accepted. No easy feat by itself, but his body was sabotaging him at every turn. Whenever he looked at her, all he could think about was touching her, kissing her, claiming her. But he didn’t want sexual service. Just the phrase made him angry. He wanted her wild and willing as they explored the banked longing he read so clearly in her eyes. She wanted to belong, needed to feel accepted and valued, but most of all safe. And seducing her would be counterproductive to those goals. If he pursued her sexually, she would never believe he wanted anything but sex from her.

  What did he want from her? He wasn’t sure how to answer that, even in his mind. He definitely wanted to share pleasure with her, but he also wanted to protect her, help her start to heal from the ordeal that had been her entire life. That wasn’t fair. He didn’t know her well enough to judge her entire life. There might have been moments of joy, situations or individuals that made her happy. He hoped so. It was hard to think of anyone being nothing but unhappy.

  He rolled to his back and draped his arm over his eyes, willing his mind to settle down so his body could relax. His memory was enhanced by nanites and storage crystals, so vivid images were always accessible. Even knowing he’d regret it, he summoned her likeness as she’d stood before him naked. He’d been so stunned by her actions that he’d quickly averted his eyes, but every minute detail was available to him now. Her pale skin was faintly iridescent, making it gleam like pearl or abalone. Perfectly shaped and generous, her breasts were crowned with lovely blue nipples. Were her folds also blue?

  Hot, demanding need curled through his body, hardening his cock and speeding his pulse. He pictured himself walking into the living room and kneeling beside the couch. He’d kiss her until she relaxed and accepted his attention, then he’d slowly caress his way down her naked body. It was ridiculous to think she’d feel comfortable enough to sleep naked, but this was his fantasy. When he’d finished teasing her breasts, he’d gently part her thighs and brush her slit with his fingertips. She’d shift and wiggle, unsure what to do, then he’d lower his head and explore those soft blue folds with his mouth.

  Throwing off the blanket, he walked into the utility room and splashed cold water on his face. He’d taken off his uniform before going to bed and pulled on a pair of loose fitting shorts. Even clad in so little, he felt hot and restless, and his cock was so damn hard he would never be able to fall asleep. He had no one to blame but himself, of course. He was Arrista’s protector. It was his job to guard her, not bring her to orgasm after orgasm.

  He was
so worked up by the fantasy that he disregarded the first few moans, but a sharp cry drew his attention to the doorway leading to the outer room. Nightmare? As if to answer his question, a muffled scream split the relative quiet.

  He triggered the door and hurried into the living room. “Lights twenty-five percent.”

  She tossed and twisted on the couch. Her blanket had been dislodged by her thrashing. She cried out again, and he carefully sat on the edge of the sofa. “Wake up, Arrista. You’re dreaming.” His even tone had no effect on her, so he placed his hand on her shoulder and gave her a measured shake. “Arrista,” he called with more authority. “You need to wake up.”

  Her head jerked one way and then the other, blue hair wild around her face and shoulders. “No,” she moaned, then louder, “Stop. I said stop!” Her hands flew toward him blindly, fingers balled into fists.

  He caught one wrist long before it landed and trapped the other against his body as he dragged her into his arms. She screamed, the sound loud and shrill. “Arrista, you’re safe now. No one will hurt you here.”

  She tensed arching and twisting, then her eyelids fluttered and she mumbled something he couldn’t understand. Her eyelids slowly lifted, and she blinked repeatedly. “Torrin?”

  “Yes, love. You’re in my cabin. You’re safe. No one will ever hurt you again.”

  Her breath escaped in a shuddering sigh, and she wrapped her free arm around his back. “I’m safe,” she whispered, as if to convince herself. “No one will hurt me.”

  “That’s right. I won’t let them.” He released her wrist and brushed her hair back from her face. She’d closed her eyes again, but her body gradually relaxed. One arm pressed against his lower back, while her other hand splayed across his bare chest. She felt so tiny in his embrace, fragile, yet she’d been surprisingly strong. He held her for a while, letting her emerge from the fear as gradually as she liked. It was no sacrifice. He enjoyed holding her, and his body had been aroused long before she cried out.