“I don’t understand.”
“Ahona knew George was a drongo.” Rummel shook his head. “Maybe they were from the same planet. Or maybe George just has healing abilities.”
“I suppose it doesn’t really matter as long as it helps her.”
The swelling had almost completely disappeared, although the outline of Ahona’s hand was still visible. Joan’s breathing seemed easier, but her eyes still hadn’t opened.
“I wish she would wake up,” he muttered.
Rummel frowned. “Maybe it’s better if she doesn’t yet. I don’t think this trip is going to be as easy as you made it sound.”
The platform jerked, and he looked around to realize they had reached the top. They were still under the cover of the transport shed, but the rocky surface was clearly visible through the opening in the end wall. His former confidence that they could make it across the harsh terrain to his ship suddenly seemed foolishly optimistic, but there was no other choice. They had to make it.
“The lift is moving,” Taliane called, jerking his attention to the platform as it started to descend.
That was one thing he could handle. He let the skin over his arm and hand harden, then smashed it into the control panel. There was a satisfying shower of sparks, and the platform ceased to move.
“Good.” Issar nodded approvingly. “That will prevent them from following us immediately. If Ahona wasn’t lying, they will have no way of communicating with the headquarters.”
“That’s a big if,” he said grimly as he tucked Joan closer against his chest. George was curled on top of her, still gently licking her arm.
“What’s the plan?” Issar asked as they gathered at the opening.
Directly in front of them was the landing field for the ore transport ships, empty at the moment. It was the only flat area on the surface. To the left, the ground slumped in huge broken sheets where lava had erupted from the heated side of the planet and then cooled. To the right, the ground was jagged and uneven and he could see ice glistening on the ragged crest that sheltered the hangar. Where they were standing, the air was even hotter than it had been below ground but he knew it would cool rapidly as they headed for the ship.
“Nothing complicated,” he said. “We go over the surface to reach my ship. That ridge over there—that’s our destination.”
“It doesn’t look too far,” Taliane said hopefully.
Varga and Issar exchanged a look over her head. She was correct that the actual distance wasn’t immense, but the rough terrain and the changing conditions on the surface would be sure to slow them down. If he had been alone, he probably could have covered the distance in less than an hour, even carrying Joan. He suspected that Issar would be equally capable. But they had the other females to consider, not to mention Rummel. The older male had proven his toughness, but his age and short legs would do him no favors.
But the situation wasn’t going to change. All they could do was attempt it and adjust as necessary.
“The same as below,” he said to Issar. “You lead the way and I will bring up the rear.”
Issar nodded, put an arm around Taliane, and stepped out onto the landing field. Taliane immediately gave a startled cry and stumbled towards Issar, and Varga cursed. He had forgotten to warn them about the winds. With the drastic difference in temperature between the two halves of the planet, the transition zone was subject to constant swirling winds and unusual weather conditions. He and Issar would be more resistant because of their size, but it would do little to protect the others.
“Come back for a minute, Issar,” he called, and Issar helped Taliane back inside the transport shed before joining him.
Varga scanned the walls, then pointed at the shelves of supplies next to the lift platform. “I think we should use some of that rope and tie ourselves together.”
“Do you think that is necessary?” Issar frowned. “The wind is strong but manageable now that I know what to expect.”
“You know what to expect now,” he said grimly. “A storm came up while I was landing, and it was strong enough that I had a hard time keeping the ship on course. The conditions can change instantly and if you had removed your hand from your female when that occurred—”
“I would not.”
“You cannot predict every circumstance.” He nodded at the rest of the party, still huddled at the entrance and staring out at the surface of the planet. “And we have the others to consider.”
“I suppose you are correct.” Issar glanced at Joan, still lying silently in Varga’s arms. “But it will slow us even more. Perhaps you should not wait for us. Take your female to your ship and I will assist the others.”
He was tempted, but although Joan had not regained consciousness, her arm looked almost normal and her breathing was deep and even. She could have been asleep, and if he deserted the rest of their party, he was afraid that she would not forgive him.
“No. When I agreed to let them accompany us, I made a commitment to their safety.”
“You are an honorable male,” Issar said solemnly.
Varga knew that it was a great compliment from the Asing and despite his impatience, a warm glow of pleasure flowed through him. Issar had not waited for a response, already retrieving the rope and beginning the process of linking the party together. Taliane stood obediently and Saka rolled her eyes but didn’t object. When Issar came to Polly, it was a different story. She had been perched at the entrance, looking out at the open ground with surprising eagerness, but when Issar approached her with the rope, she began to keen again, the disturbing wail echoing in the empty transport shed.
Issar gave Varga a rather helpless look. Varga wasn’t sure how to handle the female either. Given her fear, he suspected that she had been restrained in the past. However, she was the smallest and lightest of all of them and would be most at risk if the winds increased. Rummel tried approaching her but even though she had walked with him before, this time she backed away.
“Oh for gods’ sake,” Saka muttered and unfastened the rope from around her own waist before stalking over to Polly. By this point, the female was crouched against the wall, her hands lifted into ineffectual claws in front of her. Saka crouched down so that she was at eye level.
“Enough,” she said harshly. To everyone’s surprise, Polly actually stopped making that disturbing noise and stared at Saka. “You want out of here, right?” Apparently taking the silence for consent, Saka continued, her voice softening only slightly. “Well, the way out is across there, but if you’re not roped, you can’t go.”
“Go by myself,” Polly said defiantly.
“And if the wind blows you away, it will blow you right back into the hands of the guards.”
It was more likely that she would be sent flying into an area where she could not survive, but Varga didn’t bother to contradict Saka. Her words seem to be working. Polly rose reluctantly to her feet.
“Good girl,” Saka said briskly. “We’ll put you between Taliane and me. That way if anything happens, they’ll get us first.”
A fleeting smile actually crossed Polly’s face, and for the first time Varga realized that beneath the dirt and injuries, she was probably an attractive female. Although not compared to his own female, of course. He gave Joan a worried glance, but she still appeared to be sleeping peacefully in his arms. Even George had stopped licking her arm, although the lizard was not sleeping. Instead, his big eyes were keeping watch on everyone around them.
Varga realized that George would also be vulnerable to the savage winds. While Issar resumed tying the party together, Varga urged George back inside Joan’s coverall. He would be safer there.
When Issar approached, he let the male fasten the rope around Joan’s waist, even though he hated the other male so close to her body, then took the final length in his own hand.
“Let’s go,” he said for the second time, hoping that this time they would make it the entire way.
Chapter Fifteen
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nbsp; At first, the trip wasn’t as bad as he had feared. A hot, dry wind buffeted them from the fire side of the planet. It drained the moisture from their bodies, but it also helped push them in their direction they wanted to go. The ground was smoother here as well, the huge sheets of hardened lava relatively flat beneath their feet as long as they avoided the cracks in the surface. But as they grew closer to the frozen side, conditions began to worsen.
The temperature dropped rapidly. The wind picked up, now blowing from the other side and carrying icy pellets that stung their exposed skin. His skin, of course, was immune, but while the coveralls provided some protection for the females, their faces and hands were taking the brunt of the barrage.
He and Issar moved closer together, trying to provide a shield for the others, but the wind changed direction so rapidly, it was difficult to protect them. The ground too had become more uneven and he had to keep a constant eye on his footing to make sure that he did not stumble and disturb the precious burden in his arms. Saka went down once, Polly twice, and then Taliane fell. Issar swore and lifted her up in his arms. She protested, but he ignored her, continuing in the direction of the ridge.
They had covered perhaps two thirds of the journey when Joan stirred in his arms. He looked down eagerly, happy that she was returning to consciousness, but his excitement was immediately replaced by anxiety. Her eyes were still closed, her face flushed. Her body moved restlessly, arms and legs jerking.
“Joan!” he called, trying to get her to open her eyes.
For a second, they flashed open but a silvery gleam of recognition vanished as quickly as it had appeared and she began to moan.
“What’s wrong?” Issar asked, and Varga realized he had come to a halt as the rest of the party gathered around him.
“I don’t know. She seems feverish. We have to hurry.”
Issar looked from Varga to the ridge. “We can make it the rest of the way without you. Go now and take her to your ship.”
The rest of them, even Saka, nodded in agreement. Pushing aside the uneasy promptings of his conscience, he untied the rope and handed the last of it to Rummel.
“You make sure she’s safe,” the small male said gruffly. “We’ll be along shortly.”
Varga briefly clasped his shoulder and then set off as close to a run as he could manage under these conditions. The ice storm continued to increase in intensity and the terrain became more treacherous as it was covered with a thin sheet of ice. He put his head down and kept moving, grateful for the years of training that helped him move so rapidly.
His foot slid out from him once, and he went to his knee with a painful thud, but Joan was still cradled safely in his arms so he ignored the lingering ache and kept moving. By the time he rounded the rocky crest and saw the opening to the hangar, he was close to exhaustion. How much worse it must be for the rest of their party, still struggling across the open ground. As soon as he had Joan safely in the medical bed, he would go back for them.
Despite his urgency, he forced himself to slow down and move cautiously inside the hangar’s entrance. His ship was still where he had left it, seemingly untouched. The two transport ships used to bring slaves down to the surface were also in the same position. A couple of the smaller flyers had shifted around, but they didn’t worry him.
No guards were on duty, but he hadn’t really expected any. The Zameetans relied on their automated system a little too heavily, for which he was duly grateful. But he was not about to be careless when he was this close to his goal. He kept to the perimeter of the huge space, quickly but quietly working his way around until the landing ramp for his ship was only a short distance away. Unfortunately, there was no cover between his location and the ramp. With a deep breath and a silent prayer, he started across the open space.
He was almost at the ramp when he heard the unmistakable sound of a blaster firing up. The weapon would not seriously wound him, unless it managed to find one of his scars, but the impact could knock him forward and Joan was in his arms.
“I knew you’d come back for your ship, Varga.”
Anger filled him as he recognized the mocking voice. Baahy.
“I knew you had to be behind this ridiculous uprising,” the guard continued. “I warned Ukhaan not to trust you but he wouldn’t listen, just like he never listened to anything else I had to say. Now turn around.”
If he did, Joan would be vulnerable to the weapon. But if he did not and Baahy fired, he might fall and hurt her. Gritting his teeth, he let her slip quietly to the ground, and turned to face Baahy, keeping his body between the guard and his female.
He did his best to keep his face impassive as he took in Baahy’s disheveled condition, but he must not have been entirely successful because the male snarled.
“This is your fault,” he said, gesturing to his torn uniform and the cuts and scrapes on the visible parts of his body. “You drove the slaves to revolt.”
“How could I have done that?” he asked coolly, even though he was rejoicing inside. Nepala had done it.
“I don’t know, but I know you’re responsible. So let me tell you how this is going to go. You are going to unlock your ship, and we are going to leave this fucking planet. You can even bring your slave along.” His laughter sent a chill down Varga’s spine. “It’s long past time I had my way with her.”
“You will never put a finger on her,” he growled.
“Won’t I?” Baahy waved the blaster. “I think you’re forgetting that I’m armed and you’re not.”
Varga realized that Baahy didn’t know about his unique abilities. Good. That gave him an advantage. He just needed the right moment to use it.
“You can’t shoot me,” he said calmly. “You need me to unlock the ship and to fly it. It’s coded to my genetics.”
Baahy scowled. “But you don’t need all of your working parts for either task.”
He took a step forward, and Varga tensed, ready to spring, when there was a soft noise behind him and Baahy’s eyes flickered in that direction. Oh, gods, was Joan waking up or was her sickness getting worse?
Before he could turn to check on her, a small golden flash raced past him. George. Baahy jumped and fired at the lizard but the shot went wide, and a second later, George reached him. He scrambled up over Baahy’s boot and sank sharp little teeth into the exposed flesh revealed by Baahy’s torn uniform leg.
Baahy howled and kicked out with his leg, sending the lizard flying, but before he could regain his stance, Varga was on him. He threw the guard to the ground and put his boot over Baahy’s throat.
“You will never lay a hand on my female, and you will never injure another slave again.”
Baahy gasped, his eyes bugging out, and clawed frantically at the ground. Varga looked down and saw that Baahy’s leg was swelling, blisters already covering the area where George had bitten him.
Varga lifted his foot and stepped back as Baahy continued to thrash, a high-pitched moan coming from his throat as blisters covered more of his skin. He was obviously in agony, but Varga had no sympathy. The male deserved everything he received.
Keeping one eye on the writhing body of the guard, Varga looked around for George. The lizard was hobbling back in his direction, one leg dragging and obviously broken. Varga went to retrieve him, carefully lifting him into his arms.
“You did very well, my friend,” he said softly, and George gave a weak little chirp.
There was a final terrible burbling sound from Baahy’s direction, but Varga only checked to make sure that the body wasn’t moving before hurrying back to Joan.
She was still lying where he’d left her, her cheeks flushed and her head turning restlessly. He put George on her stomach and lifted them both together, then quickly unlocked the ship and carried them through to the medical bed. It had been part of the equipment when he purchased the ship, and he’d never used it but knew the basic principles.
He placed her on the soft surface and picked up George again. After lowering th
e clear plastic canopy over the bed, he chose the setting for diagnosis. Bands of colored light traveled along the canopy from her head to her feet, accompanied by a low humming. Readings flashed up on the screen and disappeared almost as quickly while he stood holding George and praying that the machine could accommodate her human physiology.
After what seemed to be an interminable time, but was probably no more than a few minutes, the machine gave him the results. She had been poisoned, but the antivenom had been received in time. Her body was burning through the remnants of the poison, but she was dehydrated and that had exacerbated her condition. The diagnosis recommended a short temporary period of unconsciousness while the bed administered fluids and nutrition. He approved the treatment plan and sagged against the wall in relief.
She would be fine. He hadn’t lost her due to his foolish mistakes.
George chirped inquisitively.
“She’ll be fine,” he promised, stroking the lizard’s small head. “And as soon as her treatment is complete, we’ll see what it can do about your leg.”
He hated to leave her, but now that his fears had been put to rest, his thoughts went back to the rest of the party.
“I have to go back and help the others,” he said, before he remembered that he was talking to an animal. But George bobbed his head as if he understood. “I’m going to leave you here with her and lock the ship behind me. You will both be safe.”
Once again, George seemed to bob his head in agreement, and Varga wondered just how much the animal really understood. He placed George carefully on a padded chair where he could keep watch on the medical bed and hurried back to the entrance. He only paused long enough to grab a couple of traveling cloaks—they would be too big, but they would provide some protection—before returning to the hangar.
Baahy’s body was where he’d left it, starting to emit an unpleasant smell, but he ignored it as he headed back to the entrance. Just as he reached it, he caught sight of a tall, dark figure rounding the spur of rock. Issar. Taliane was still in his arms, and the others were huddled around him like lost infants.
Joan and the Juggernaut: A SciFi Alien Romance (Alien Abduction Book 10) Page 10