Captive

by Cheryl Brooks

  “Oh, yeah. Some of us even warned Pelarus not to underestimate them.” He chuckled. “Obviously he didn’t listen. He thinks money is the answer to everything. Don’t get me wrong, it helps, of course, but there are some things money can’t buy.”

  “Clearly, I should have had a chat with you guys years ago.”

  “Might’ve helped,” he said with a shrug. “Although it’s only been recently that we’ve been getting kinda fed up with the Master.”

  “What’s changed?”

  “Well, for one thing, he cut our pay. Aside from that, even we realize this can’t last forever.” He gestured toward the shabby, rotting buildings lining the road. “Look around you. This world is dying; Pelarus and his cronies have made sure of that. They’ve exploited its resources until there isn’t much left. Most of the land is poisoned and the water is nearly gone. Won’t be long before even the desert plants and animals die out.”

  Moe had sounded so optimistic when he spoke of how the planet could be reclaimed. Harlex’s assessment left little room for hope. “You said cronies. You mean there are others like him?”

  “There used to be. Most of them left when they had nothing more to export. If it weren’t for the spaceport, Pelarus probably would’ve abandoned this city long ago. Hell, for all we know, he could’ve been planning to leave today.”

  “Which means he’d have a ship ready and waiting.”

  “It’s possible.”

  “But unlikely,” she said, hanging onto the last shred of hope. “Even if he’d planned to leave today, he probably hadn’t intended to leave the arena the way he did.” She didn’t bother to add that his original plan might have included taking her with him. She could only be pleased it hadn’t turned out that way because with every habitable planet in the entire galaxy available as a destination, Moe might never have found her again.

  Of course, if everything had gone according to Pelarus’s plans, Moe wouldn’t have been able to come looking for her.

  He would be dead.

  “Dammit! Why can’t this thing go any faster?” She somehow managed to control the impulse to punch the control bar with her fist and simply jabbed it with a finger, albeit forcefully enough to break a nail down to the quick.

  “Um… too much weight, maybe?” Harlex sounded slightly embarrassed as he pointed toward the spaceport control tower. “Although we are almost there.”

  Klara sucked her bleeding fingertip. “I see it. Looks like there’s a welcoming party at the gate, too. I really hope those guys are friends of yours or we’re in big trouble.”

  As he sped through the streets, Moe wished he’d taken the time to study the local geography. Without his speeder and its auto-nav function, he would never have found the bar in which he’d been stupid enough to pick a fight.

  But then, he never would have met Klara.

  If meeting was the right word. A forced meeting, perhaps, but a meeting nonetheless. The best of his life, in fact.

  His brief rest aboard Nexbit’s kradjet form had helped some, but a quick shot of energy couldn’t hurt.

  Yeah. A hot fudge sundae with whipped cream and a cherry would go down very well right about now.

  Then again, if there were any sugary sweets anywhere on this whole damn planet, he was probably headed away from them, unless there were vending machines at the spaceport. He hadn’t noticed any when he’d first arrived, but he hadn’t been looking, either.

  He rounded one corner and another before reaching the main road to the spaceport. He really hoped this wasn’t all for naught, but he wouldn’t have been a bit surprised to see a ship taking off just as he hit the homestretch. Then again, if the revolution extended to the spaceport, he might be lucky enough to get there in time to see a gang of Nedwuts ripping off Pelarus’s wings.

  With a chuckle, he decided he couldn’t possibly be that lucky. After all, meeting up with Klara—one of the few undocumented Zetithian women in the entire galaxy—had undoubtedly required any luck he was due in this lifetime. Prior to that, he hadn’t been very lucky. Steady and determined, perhaps, but luck had very little to do with any successes he’d ever had.

  The gods help those who help themselves.

  A brief upward glance revealed the spaceport control tower looming in the distance. It probably wasn’t all that far away, but Moe had to admit, he was getting tired. His only consolation was that he hadn’t spotted a spacecraft of any kind taking off.

  Fortunately, even the smaller space cruisers needed a little time to prepare for launch, and because Pelarus couldn’t possibly have anticipated the afternoon’s turn of events, having a ship on standby with a full crew ready to take off at a moment’s notice was unlikely.

  Even if his crew was stationed at the spaceport, at least some of them might be on break somewhere, leaving any remaining crew members to explain why it wasn’t possible to blast off without going through the start-up sequence. With any luck, Pelarus would be pissed enough to start shooting at them.

  Seemingly out of nowhere, the spaceport gates sprang up in Moe’s path. They were open, but four armed Nedwut guards stood blocking the entrance.

  Moe kept right on running. “Out of the way!” he shouted, brandishing his pistol.

  To his surprise, they actually stepped aside.

  One of them pointed toward the tower. “Pelarus went that way. Didn’t even bother to stop. Just flew right over us.”

  Moe started to ask why they hadn’t shot the bastard out of the sky but decided that was too much to hope for. “Thanks!” he yelled, then skidded to a halt. He’d yet to encounter a guard shack that wasn’t stocked with some sort of refreshment. “I could really use some water.”

  “Sure thing,” the guard replied. One of the others tossed him a bottle of water while another threw him a candy bar.

  As he paused to chug down most of the water, he figured he might as well give these guys a chance to redeem themselves. “Listen, if a Sympaticon comes through here, he could use something to eat and drink, too. And if you guys want to help bring down Pelarus, follow me!”

  The guard who’d spoken first shrugged. “We could leave some candy out for him. Think he’ll spot it if we come with you?”

  Moe laughed. “I guarantee it.”

  The guard had just placed the goodies in the gateway when a huge, bedraggled kradjet fell out of the sky. Within moments, Moe was facing the huffing, puffing Sympaticon as he stumbled toward them.

  “What are you stopping here for?” Moe chided.

  “You really didn’t expect me to ignore a pile of Milky Way bars sitting in the middle of the road, did you?”

  “Well, no,” Moe replied. “But either way, your timing is excellent. Eat up. We need to get going.”

  In less than five seconds, Nexbit had downed a bottle of water and stuffed two candy bars in his mouth. A blissful smile spread over his homely face as he chewed, and the moment he swallowed, he began morphing into a kradjet once again. “I think I can make it now. Climb aboard.”

  The whine of an approaching speeder caused him to turn around. “Holy shit. It’s Klara.”

  For a moment, he didn’t think she was going to bother to stop. Not that he blamed her. She could always come back for him after she nabbed Pelarus—a task that was in no way beyond her ability. Nevertheless, she brought the speeder to a halt and hopped out.

  As she ran toward him, Moe let out a low whistle. “Wow. Nice dress!”

  She stopped just shy of his embrace and rolled her eyes. “You should’ve seen it before I, um, modified it.”

  “I did.” His gaze swept over her once again. “This version is a definite improvement.”

  She arched a brow. “Better than my cloak and boots?”

  “Maybe,” he replied. “I can see more of you, anyway. Although I’m rather fond of the cloak and boots—for purely sentimental reasons, of course.”

  “Speaking of sentiment…” Closing the distance between them in a flying leap, she flung her arms around his neck
, wrapped her legs around his waist, and kissed him fiercely. “Don’t you ever run off without me again.”

  “Not even to catch the bad guy?” he teased.

  “Not even then. We do this together.”

  One swift inhale filled his head with her intoxicating scent, leaving him with no desire to chase after anyone except her. “I can think of lots of better things we could do together, but first things first.” He glanced at the others. “What do you say we go catch ourselves a dictator?”

  Chapter 25

  Harlex climbed out of the speeder, then waved his rifle toward the road. “Looks like we’ll have plenty of help with that.”

  Klara released her hold on Moe and spun around, her eyes widening with astonishment. In the short time since they’d passed by them, the small groups of Haedusians had become a mob, brandishing every sort of makeshift weapon imaginable. The mob was primarily comprised of women, most of whom were on foot, but some were actually piloting speeders. “Oh, this is going to be fun.”

  “No shit,” Moe agreed. “Pelarus won’t know what hit him. But first, we have to find him.”

  “No worries there,” one of the sentries said. “We know exactly where he’ll go—and we have speeders.”

  “Lead the way, then,” Moe said.

  As Harlex and the other guards took off in their speeders, Moe glanced toward Nexbit. “Might be best for all of us to get there with some strength left. Why don’t you fly on ahead? I can hitch a ride with Klara.”

  “Will do.” Spreading his leathery wings, Nexbit soared into the air.

  Klara was already climbing into the pilot’s seat as Moe approached. He peered at it with a critical eye. “This is your speeder, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, it is,” Klara said proudly. “I never dreamed it would have survived the fire, but it came right to me when I whistled. Don’t know if I’ll ever get the smell of rotten radishes out of it, though.”

  “Minor concern.” Moe hopped into the seat Harlex had just vacated. “You drive. I’ll ride shotgun.”

  Klara chuckled. “Whatever that means.”

  “I’ll explain it someday,” he said. “In the meantime, let’s blow this popsicle stand.”

  Still slightly mystified, Klara strapped herself in and raised the parking struts.

  “Ahead warp factor one.” Moe waved a hand in the direction the Nedwuts had taken. “Engage.”

  She gave him a sidelong glance as she slid a fingertip up the control bar. The engine responded with maximum speed, forcing her back against her seat. “You’re in a good mood.”

  “Amazing what escaping death will do for a guy. And a good sugar rush doesn’t hurt, either.” He patted her knee. “But reuniting with your kidnapped mate tops them all.” He hesitated, his clenched jaw muscles twitching before he spoke. “That bastard didn’t hurt you, did he?”

  “Never laid a hand on me,” she replied. “Tried blackmail, then opted to win me over with kindness.” She shook her head slowly. “Didn’t think he had it in him.”

  “You’re not going soft, are you?”

  “No. Although taking an actual bath for the first time in my life made me feel more kindly toward him.” She frowned. “Have you ever tasted something called roast chicken?”

  “Um, yeah. Loads of times.”

  “I never had. It was better than dwithan, although that isn’t saying much.”

  “Remind me to take you to my Uncle Tarq’s restaurant someday. He’s a whiz with chicken.”

  “I’ll take your word for it.”

  Someday… At one time, she hadn’t believed there would even be a someday to look forward to. Nothing but empty, useless days as Pelarus’s trophy wife. No Moe. No children…

  “At least he didn’t find out about the babies.” She stopped there, trying to recall any indications that her pregnancy had been terminated. “I mean, I don’t feel any different, but I was unconscious for a while…” The horror of what might have been done to her during that time was almost too much to bear. She gripped the steering mechanism so tightly her nails bit into her palms.

  Moe leaned toward her and inhaled deeply. “You still smell incredible, so I’m guessing the kids are okay.”

  Although a sigh of relief escaped her, she still wasn’t entirely convinced. “Wish we had a scanner so we could be sure.”

  “I dunno. In this particular case, my nose is probably as reliable as any scanner.” He shrugged. “That and my dick, which informs me you have nothing to worry about.”

  She had to laugh. “Nothing to worry about? You must be joking.”

  “I’m perfectly serious. Even if Pelarus gets clean away, there’s nothing to stop me from sending out a deep space com to my folks. Trust me, Mom would be delighted to come to our rescue. And with you being Trag’s daughter, rescuing you would give her bragging rights for years to come, especially after she hears you’re expecting.” He frowned. “Although my father may have already told her. Having visions about the pregnancies of friends and relatives is one of his special talents. Mom likes to keep abreast of any new developments, and he likes to keep her guessing.”

  “I look forward to meeting them. For a while there, I didn’t believe I’d ever get the chance.”

  “All we have to do is stay alive. They’ll find us eventually.”

  Considering the possibility of widespread panic, Klara hoped their rescuers came sooner rather than later. “Are you saying we should hide out somewhere instead of going after Pelarus?”

  “Oh, hell no,” he replied. “We have to be able to top Mom’s story if she rescues us. Bringing down a tyrant should just about do it.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Although it doesn’t look as though we’ll be doing it alone.”

  “Wish we were, actually. I was hoping to watch you and Pelarus fight it out in the arena. Still can’t believe I didn’t know he had wings.”

  “Yeah, well, you weren’t alone. I’ve never seen so many jaws drop at the same time in my life.”

  “Harlex knew, and he figured I did, too. He’d even tossed me a rifle so I could do the honors. Unfortunately, I was too stunned to stun the bastard.”

  “Can’t say as I blame you. Hey, look. Those Nedwuts are heading for that Scorillian cruiser.” He scratched his chin. “Funny, I’d have thought a hotshot like Pelarus would at least have a Rutaran ship.”

  “Would a Scorillian ship be more accommodating for someone with wings?”

  “Possibly,” he replied. “Although my brother Larry retrofitted his ship with sling-chairs for his Scorillian navigator. Not sure they’d suit a winged humanoid. I only know one other guy with wings like Pelarus’s, and he prefers to perch on a stool.”

  Not for the first time, Moe’s wider range of experience made her slightly envious. “Friend of yours?”

  “More like a friend of the family. I don’t know him all that well myself. His name’s Val, and in addition to being able to fly, he’s the best computer hacker you’ll ever meet. We might need him if Pelarus won’t admit where he hid all the money he’s stolen from this planet.”

  “Guess you’d better call him, too, huh?”

  “Yeah. He’s a useful person to know. He’s super smart, has amazing eyesight and hearing, which was genetically engineered along with his wings. There were a few others like him, cloned and modified by some mad scientist or other. I’m guessing Pelarus got his wings the same way—maybe they were even done by the same guy that did Val’s. Know anything about Pelarus’s background? Where he came from?”

  “No idea. He’s just always been here. At least, as far back as I can remember.” She thought for a moment. “Velkma has been around a lot longer than I have. She might know.” Klara had seen Yirland at the arena, but she hadn’t noticed Velkma among the group who’d confronted Pelarus. “I hope she’s okay. No telling what Pelarus might have done to her for harboring us.”

  “I think if she’d been hurt in any way, Yirland wouldn’t have let Pelarus fly off like that. She’d have snatched so
meone’s rifle and shot him out of the sky.” He shrugged. “I’m kinda surprised the Nedwuts didn’t do it—unless they wanted to take him alive hoping to get a cut of the money.”

  “I think everyone wants a cut. Besides, a quick, painless death is too good for him. The son of a bitch needs to suffer.” She caught herself growling as she parked beside the other speeders. The Nedwuts swarmed out of their vehicles like a pack of hungry dwithans. Spotting Harlex, she shouted, “Seen any sign of Pelarus?”

  “Nope,” Harlex replied. “But I heard him yelling at somebody.” He chuckled. “Whoever it was wasn’t being terribly cooperative.”

  “I can’t imagine anyone being voluntarily cooperative with Pelarus,” Klara said grimly. “I just hope they stalled him long enough for us to catch him.”

  “If he hasn’t killed them,” Moe said. “He’s probably feeling pretty desperate.”

  Further shouts seemed to confirm this as the sound of pulse weapons fire split through the air.

  “He’s getting away!” the Nedwuts shouted. “Blast him!”

  Klara hopped out of her speeder and ran toward the starship berth—but she wasn’t nearly as fast as Moe, who shot past her in a blur.

  Moe breezed by the Nedwuts and headed for the ship, only sparing a moment’s thought for where Nexbit might have gone.

  “The hatch is closing!” Klara shouted.

  Moe didn’t bother to reply. He could see the ramp retracting as well as she could, perhaps even better. Turning on the speed like never before, he zipped past the inert bodies of what he assumed was the ship’s crew. By the time he reached the ship, the boarding ramp was already fully retracted and the hatch had risen past the halfway point. He took a flying leap at the hatch, caught hold of the upper rim and swung sideways, throwing his right leg up over the edge. Knowing that the hatch on most ships had a safety cutoff feature and would reopen if it encountered any obstruction, he figured he had a few seconds to get inside.

  As he’d expected, just as the hatch pressed into his leg, an alarm went off and the hatch began to open. He heaved himself upward and had managed to get everything except his left arm and the left side of his chest inside when the hatch immediately began to close once again.