by Roscoe James
“Well, Princess…”
She wanted to scratch the man’s eyes out.
“Did it occur to you that he escaped because he’s guilty, and knows that he will be tried and executed?”
She could stand it no more. Her hand came up and she slapped Crenshaw so hard he rocked back on his heels. Her face was in his before he could straighten up. “I believe, Mr. Crenshaw, that you need to read up on your Meline history a little more because you obviously have no idea what you’re talking about!”
Crenshaw recovered a modicum of decorum, and back straight and stiff, jaw clenched, said in an ominous tone, “That, Princess, was a very serious mistake. In diplomatic circles striking a member of the diplomatic community is considered an act of war and you, Madame Ambassador, have just thrown the first volley.”
She refused to back down and leaned close enough she could smell the man’s foul breath, “I believe, Mr. Crenshaw, that has been the UC’s intention all along. You don’t care about the Meline. You only care about the helium 3 that lies on our ground like rocks and dirt lay on yours. And,” she said as she inched a little closer, “You shall not have it!”
Having recovered, his voice was ice when he asked, “Is that a threat, Madame Ambassador?”
“No.” She spun on her heel and started her retreat, throwing over her shoulder, “By Bast, it’s a promise!”
* * * *
“We must leave at once, Pran!”
Her purr had become completely uncontrollable.
“But, Princess, I have not finished preparations,” And looking behind the princess, she added, “And I believe we’re missing something.”
She swallowed to control her purring and cursed Bast again for her shenanigans. “We are missing nothing! We must leave everything and go to the transporter at once!”
“But, Peenzan…”
“I have decided,” she began and swallowed again. “The UC wishes to destroy our planet and we must return at once to inform the queen. If it is Bast’s wish, he will find me. If it is not, he will perish along with the rest of the stinking humans!”
* * * *
The steward kept his head down inspecting the dishes on his tray as he pushed his cart up the long corridor on the diplomatic level. Reading the order slip one last time as two UC corpsmen walked past discussing the escaped prisoner, he made a show of matching the number to the suite, straightened his white jacket, and rapped on the door.
Vigilant of any passersby, he rapped again and smiled at a maintenance woman as she walked past. After a third attempt, he quickly dug his nails under the edge of the hand scan plate, let it fall into his other hand, picked up a knife from the cart, and with a yellow spark as he shorted the contacts, opened the door.
Quickly pushing the cart into the foyer Hill fairly ran the length of the suite, looking in every room. The second time through he also looked in the closets.
“Damn.” He sat on the edge of the bed. He was amazed when his mind suddenly cleared, and while still present, his thoughts of her were no longer urgent.
Rolling into the bedspread he grabbed a pillow and breathed deeply. Yes, it’s her. His heart settled, and unfortunately, his cock swelled more. That’s when he saw it. A small envelope with six straight lines on the outside in opposing groups of three.
Holding it to his nose he smiled, then immediately frowned at what he was doing.
“Damn her to hell.” He wadded the paper up and threw it off the bed. When he scrambled after it as if it were the most valuable document in the galaxy, he had only himself to curse.
His hands shook as he straightened it carefully on the bed and discovered words he couldn’t read. Meline, he supposed and he cursed.
“Shit.” He snatched it up, stuffed it in his pocket, and stormed out of the bedroom.
Back at the main entrance he hit the manual release and slid the door open only an inch to check the corridor. When the hallway was clear, he moved quickly.
* * * *
It had taken more than two hours of ducking and skulking, but he’d finally made it to the cavernous engine bay at the stern of the galaxy class cruiser.
Hungry and shaking, curled in a ball in the corner of a tool room, he cursed himself for being in such a state, his body for betraying him, and the Corporation for labeling him a traitor.
Every time he tried to figure out what was happening with his body he would see her smiling face floating just out of reach. She’s like a drug, damn it! No, she drugged me and this is withdrawal.
It was like she was inside of him tormenting him. His cock was so hard it hurt and the last time he’d tried to piss he almost couldn’t.
As much as he hated to, he pulled his balled fist to his nose and sniffed. He didn’t know why, but he’d discovered that smelling the note she’d left could calm him. Holding it balled tightly in his fist, he pulled it up again and pushed his nose in, drawing her fragrance deep until his quaking died.
This is bullshit, he thought, and as if weakened by a long illness, he pushed against the wall and struggled to stand. Once his balance returned he straightened completely, breathed deep to clear his head, and tried to decide what to do.
He had to get off the ship. The question was, how? Transporter would be quickest, but the most difficult. A ship, something small, would be easiest, but given their location halfway between the Zandill system and his own solar system, he’d be stuck in deep space for at least two weeks in a small ship.
His hand relaxed around the wadded note and he stared at it in his palm. And you, he mused as he contemplated burning the piece of paper, I can’t even survive an hour without you. Curse you, Princess!
Then he saw it. Well, he thought he saw it. A word in English. Sliding back down the wall, he squatted and worked at flattening out the piece of smudged parchment.
At first he just saw the odd scribbles in Meline, but turning the paper over, he found a note in English.
My darling,
First I must apologize for the hardship I know you must be going through. If it is any comfort, my love, I am suffering just as you are. There is no time to explain here. It is more important that you are safe. If you found this note, which I pray to Bast you did, then all is not lost. Now you must find me. I had to return to Meline without you. The void is filled with danger and I must protect the Meline people. You must come at once. I have written a note on the other side of this piece of paper that will explain who you are when you come through the transporter. Show it to whomever you should find and they will bring you to me.
Do not tarry, my love, I fear the war will start quickly. You are in the greatest danger and you must know that my heart travels with you.
With all my love,
Your Peenzan.
PS—I have left a part of me here. Keep it close, it will help.
My love? War? I have left a part of me…keep it close? He cursed and kicked a plastic shipping crate. Sniffing the piece of paper, he decided again it was all some kind of germ warfare.
Well, one thing he did know for sure, it wasn’t safe here and if he was going to find an antidote, it was going to be on Meline.
Pulling the tool room door open an inch, he watched and waited.
* * * *
“I know, Mother!”
Her purring had only grown worse since arriving back at Meline.
“But why did you leave him?”
Peenzan paced from the splash of yellow sun on the polished stone floor back to her mother and turned to continue her prowl.
“I felt I had to! For Meline and our people!”
“Will you sit down and drink this! It will take hours for you to explain if you don’t stop purring!”
But it felt so good. It brought him close. And besides, she’d promised to suffer with him.
“I mean it, Peenzan. I know what you’re going through. Believe me, your father still drives me crazy. But you are of no use to the Meline people, or him, in this state. You must have a clear mind.”
Her m
other was right and she relented. Setting the gold cup back on the table, she let go of his feeling in her chest and cleared her throat.
“Now, dear, you must go on.”
“Well, I feel I must discuss the chairman first. They have threatened war.”
And for an hour as the sun of Meline grew sleepy to the north, the queen and her princess sat quietly discussing what she had done and said.
* * * *
This was his third try, and as far as he knew, his last chance. He’d found the previous two transport portals heavily guarded and a D-projection of his head floating by the entrance with the word Terrorist in large letters beneath.
He’d decided the last place they’d look, the last place they’d think he’d go, would be back to the base quadrant where men and heavy equipment were moving on and off the ship constantly. And it had been easier than he’d thought it would be.
Ducking into the rear exit of the corps laundry, he’d stripped and thrown his old clothes away, careful to retrieve the note. Finding a pile of dirty uniforms, he’d searched frantically for something that came close to fitting, thrown it on, and picked up a discarded laser helmet and plopped it on his head, dropping the shield.
He had no idea who’d last used the uniform, but he smelt like a dead rrunger from the jank system and he considered trying to raid the depot for a clean one.
Deciding that was entirely too complicated, he walked through the showers and grabbed the first tags he could find. Stepping out, he took the main corridor past the arsenal and tried to grab an MR280, but there were too many troops around.
He’d only been outside his home system twice. One was when he was deployed to one of the moons around Zandill to take back a UC mining complex, and the other was now as part of the diplomatic protection unit for UC-1. He knew how transporters worked but didn’t really know anything about where he was going, or for that matter, which receiving transport node to select.
He loafed in a corner and pretended to be checking his watch while waiting for someone until one of the small troop transporters was clear.
Looking up the corridor, he saw a lull in people and equipment, and pulling his uniform as straight as he could, stepped away from the wall and sauntered up to the transport officer.
“Hey,” he called, keeping it casual.
When the kid snapped to attention, he glanced at his sleeve and realized he’d grabbed a lieutenant’s uniform.
“At ease, son.”
The kid dropped to parade rest and waited.
Everything was documented and inventoried, and he also knew this was the most dangerous part of his journey. With an air of authority that came natural and a booming voice that left the kid quaking in his boots, he stepped into the transport and yelled, “What the hell did you let them leave for?”
The kid just stared, wide eyed at whatever his mistake might have been.
“How the hell could you let them leave without their fucking lieutenant?”
Finally the kid found his voice, “Ah, sorry, sir. Who would that be, sir?”
“You know, that last bunch that went to Meline.”
The kid jumped and started jabbering, “Oh, sorry, sir. I thought their commander was with ’em. Yeah…” the kid said as he bent over a flat screen on a pedestal in deep concentration. “Right, here, it is right here. Lieutenant Billicks was with ’em, sir.”
His blood ran cold. It had only been a guess, but it had paid off. That meant Madame Ambassador’s letter was right. If not a war, then definitely some type of aggression was planned.
He tried to buddy up. “Isn’t that just like the corps, Private? Hell, they couldn’t freeze ice in the Blue Moon system if you gave ’em water! Tell ya what, kid, just send me on through and we’ll forget about it.”
“But, sir, I show the last six platoons went through in full camouflage and armed. Where’s your camouflage, sir?”
That got his attention. Stepping out of the transporter he noticed the kid had started looking at him funny. Walking up, he brought to bear the full weight of his physical presence and leaned over the kid’s shoulder to look at the screen.
“Well…well…well…sir, I mean, they were all set to fight. I just don’t want you stuck there without a weapon.”
Reading the screen, he ground his teeth loud enough the kid heard him when he saw over twenty-eight platoons had landed at the Corporation site on the Meline moon in the last twenty-four hours. He also saw a list of heavy armor and fighting craft. Omega?
“Placing his big hand on the private’s shoulder in a fatherly fashion, he whispered in amazement. “You know what, kid? You’re absolutely right.”
When his big thumb and forefinger pinched at the base of the kid’s neck he heard a squelched scream and the kid fell into his arms.
Looking around, he quickly dragged the kid out of sight, ran to the flat screen, decided he didn’t want to go to the moon base, and without knowing where he’d end up, selected something on the Meline planet, hit START and dove into the transporter just before the big transformers started humming up to full power.
He didn’t even get a chance to blink. Instead of the olive green transporter housing, he was suddenly on a polished rock floor looking at what he guessed was a Meline male dressed in some kind of translucent shimmering material that hugged his skin, sandals, and something like a pair of black underwear.
When the male smiled at him, he smiled back. Then his world went dark.
* * * *
When he opened his eyes he was, once again, naked and on what he thought was a bed. Where he lay was soft, and glancing around he saw it was round and very big. A gossamer material rose from all around and pulled into a bunch behind a gold ball at least twenty feet above.
And, he noted with a sigh, he felt at peace.
“You’re up,” came a whisper and he jerked his head around trying to find the source.
“Do not worry, my love, I will be there shortly.”
He couldn’t find the source, but even whispered, he recognized the voice. Madame Ambassador was about.
Pushing up he noticed the rank smell of the dirty uniform he’d stolen had been replaced by a soft summer smell of flowers and spice on his skin. Someone had bathed him.
Moving to the edge of the bed, he let his feet fall over the edge and found the floor only a few inches away. Running his fingers along the gossamer veil he found an opening and crawled out.
He didn’t see anything that looked like clothing, so he just walked around naked.
The room was at least fifty feet square and thirty feet high. The walls and floor were a black polished stone of some kind, and when he rapped it with his knuckles there was only the dead sound of something very substantial.
He saw no door and wondered if he was being held prisoner. Just as quickly, he discarded the thought, and just as quickly, wondered why the thought didn’t bother him.
Windows on opposite ends of the room were high on the wall and he could see the stone was at least a yard thick. There didn’t appear to be any glass in them and he could hear something, maybe a bird, singing somewhere outside.
Below one set of windows was a pool of amber colored liquid the size of a wading pool, he had no idea how deep, and below the other set of windows sat a desk and something else he couldn’t define.
Walking over, he inspected it closely. A stand of polished black stone seemed to grow out of the floor to form a flat surface about the height of his knees. An indent the shape of a full-sized person was lined with gold, or something that shined like gold, and covered most the top.
Beside the place where the head would lie stood a single unlit candle.
Moving to the desk he found a neat stack of paper or some type of parchment, with scribbles that looked like what had been written on the back of the note he’d been carrying.
“There you are, my love!”
He recognized her purr immediately.
Spinning around, he found Madame Ambassador, another
Meline female in a gold robe, and a Meline male in a matching robe, standing in the middle of the room beside the bed. Off to one side stood another Meline female in a black robe that looked tattered and threadbare.
His first reaction was anger, then he realized he was naked and he brought a hand down to cover himself. Then, as if in a dream, a very strange dream, he smiled broadly.
It has to be a drug. Or some kind of mind control. He managed to erase the smile and demanded, “Where the hell am I and what the hell is going on, Madam Ambassador?”
When the brightly robed woman laughed softly and leaned toward the robed man to say something, he had no problem finding his anger.
Releasing his cock and balls, he met Madam Ambassador halfway as she walked toward him smiling, her hand up, planted his feet, and scowled down at her.
“Look, Madam Ambassador, I want to know what the hell you’ve done to me! And if I don’t get some answers pretty quick I’ll…I’ll…”
“You’ll what?” she challenged with a purr into his chest, a soft smile, and a touch on his bare hip.
When the brightly robed woman stepped up, stared into his eyes, and whispered something to Madam Ambassador, he wanted to…what? He only felt warmth and comfort. Something he’d felt recently. With a start, he recalled where and when.
“I’m sorry, my darling. I’m sure it’s all very confusing. Shortly I will explain. But first, my mother, the queen, would like to give you her warmest welcome to Meline.”
He’d reached his limit.
“Enough!” he bellowed and not a light blue eye in his small audience blinked.
His state of dress, or lack of it, didn’t seem to bother anyone else so he forgot about it, and standing straight as a board, his huge chest puffed out and his broad shoulders back, he announced, “If I have been taken prisoner, then so be it. But from this moment on I absolutely refuse to cooperate in any way and will provide you with only my name, rank, and serial number.”
No one moved for a few seconds, then just as quickly as they’d given their attention, Madam Ambassador turned and started speaking in Meline, the robed woman glanced at him a few times, all the while smiling and the robed man, once he’d listened to the Ambassador, fairly beamed.