“Yes. And no, not ravaged.” He’d have put any ravager out through an airlock, without opening it. “Sir, I would like to claim salvage on the Finatar.”
“You would?” One brow rose, then he turned and brought up a small screen in mid-air, swiping to bring up the dead ship’s stats. “I’m told it would be best repaired at a shipyard. It could take days here.” He eyed Torgeir. “If you can do it, I’d be grateful. It’d remove one piece of debris from near this wormhole.”
“May I?” He pointed and the captain dragged the screen closer to Torgeir. It was worse than he’d hoped. The hull breach had taken out control system conduits too, and the fuel system would need rerouting and so much new piping that he knew it wasn’t going to be available on any old trader unless she was carrying the stuff as cargo. And the cargo was...
He was actually hoping all his needs for repairs would be in the manifesto? It was not, but an idea bloomed.
“Sir.” He pointedly eyed the captain. “There’s too much damage and inadequate parts. However, if you did happen to have these.” He tapped the screen. “In your storage, as well as an engineer I could borrow for say, five hours?”
The captain’s face turned to stone and his mouth firmed.
Torgeir hurried on.
“I believe that, legally, a police operation cannot claim salvage although the ship’s cargo can be confiscated as lost property and if not claimed for a year, it can then be sold to support the Police Guild.”
“Hmmm?” The captain inclined his head, a little.
He took that as a good sign. “I have been thinking that donating half of my salvaged cargo to the Guild would be a gesture of thanks. That way, it would be in the Guild’s possession, immediately.”
“I see.” He tapped off the holoscreen and a small smile spread. “I’m glad you’re on the right side of the law, Lord Rakkel. Make that three quarters of the cargo and I will give you the suggested supplies and you can have the engineer for six hours maximum. I’m now meeting a hospital ship halfway to Sicar anyway and that delay will still allow us to be there at the right time.”
“Thank you, captain.”
“And I thank you, lord.”
He left Ella behind for the medics to supervise, with Mimi hibernating, or something, at the foot of her bed. For a MeMoMe, Mimi was behaving oddly. None of them had ever left Sicar. Once the ship was in better condition and safe, he’d bring Ella over, asleep still, or not.
Mimi too. Frack. A chill ran through him. He hoped she’d not go super heavy and knock a hole in the ship.
Dresdek was suitably impressed, saying in an aside, as they stepped from the Finatar’s airlock, “Am I right in thinking you’ve just bribed a police captain?”
The engineer, wearing his helmetless spacesuit, as they were, was already striding down the corridor, pushing the hover trolley of supplies with his detached helmet perched on top. He was out of earshot. A repair bot hummed along in his wake.
Torgeir murmured, “I think I did. Did you see Ella?”
“Yes. Poor girl. Lucky we caught up to them. I’ll do a search of their computers and AI to see if they recorded the buyer.”
“Good. It should be there. The police have cloned those memories already. You know, when she’s asleep, she looks a lot sweeter than when awake.”
“What? Ella? She’s hooked you, that much?” Dresdek chuckled.
“No. You haven’t seen her awake.”
“Uh-huh. And now I’m really wanting to get your sanity checked. Why in hell did we rescue her if she’s as nasty as that?”
He grinned. “Because I like a challenge?”
Then it hit him. How true that was. Ella was never going to be easy to get into his bed. She wouldn’t fall in, like some. He might have to drag her in, with her squealing and making all those other noises women made when turned on and having fun pretending not to be.
Uh. Yeahhh. That was hoping. He imagined her chained to the bedpost, kneeling, with his collar on her neck.
His cock was climbing as if to remind him it was there.
“A challenge?” Dresdek scoffed and hefted the unzipped bag he carried up to ear level, jiggled it. “We need to do this, you know.” Things tinkled onto the floor.
“Yes. Start thinking pipes and ship systems, not girls. Sexy or not...” He broke into a jog. “The open-to-space area is sealed and the doors are locked down. Don’t try to open them!”
In the past, whenever he was told he couldn’t have something, he always wanted it more. Ella was that.
“I won’t. Hey! Wait.” Dresdek stopped and squirmed his neck about, looking uncomfortable. “Something fell into my suit. Where are we going when we get this heap of kak working?”
“Riptide. The planet Riptide.”
“Oh kakkity. You could have said. That place is so bad my grandmother would run the other way.”
He turned to walk backward and yell at Dresdek. “You don’t have a grandmother!”
“Because she ran!”
Torgeir laughed. “Besides, we both know anywhere you go in the ’verse turns bad.”
The lights flickered, dimmed, and went out.
Before he could find a torch, two red eyes lit up down the corridor, bright enough to reflect off the walls. For a second Torgeir was sure his heart had stopped, then he recalled Dresdek’s retinal modification.
“Scared you? Can see now, though, can’t you?” Dresdek caught up, his red eyes weirdly bobbing in the darkness. “This, lord, is me being bad. Let’s go get those pipes and turn the lights back on.”
Chapter 7
Torgeir grabbed a chair and seated himself beside Ella’s bed while Dresdek leaned against the nearest wall. She was still mostly away in dreamland, though the twenty-four hours was nearly up. The Finatar’s little medical bot thought she was fine and healing well.
The warp drive had worried him. Missile damage and repairs in space weren’t the best mix. It had gone well though. They’d zipped through the wormhole and arrived in the Riptide solar system without a hiccup of any sort. Mimi had vanished but, being her, she was probably camouflaged and stuck to a ceiling somewhere. The ship was big, the hiding places many.
Now they had a week before landfall at Riptide itself. They had to nurse the pulse drives due to some unrepaired problems. With only two crew, they had to go slow anyway. He had time to think ahead.
He took Ella’s hand and held it lightly. The sheet had drifted down a little and the swell of her breasts showed above her top. Dressing her had been an exercise in restraint. The little bot hadn’t been capable, unfortunately, or fortunately.
While asleep she was vulnerable. While awake too. He had no doubt that Ella was as incapable of fending for herself as a newborn baby.
She might agree to him helping her. She might not.
Yes, and that clinched it. He dug in his pocket and pulled out the fist-sized, slave stamp encryptor, slipped his fingers into the central hole made for gripping it. He’d charged it earlier. Lucky he’d kept the thing. When he pressed the power switch, the ready light blinked on.
Dresdek’s voice was a rumble. “I know what that is. Why? I thought you were all into the no slavery and let everyone be free?”
“After the trouble she got into?”
“And that will solve it? Making her a true slave?”
“I’m not. It’s insurance only. Think of it as backup.”
“You know I’m not that into women unless they’re under me in bed. But...I thought you were in love or something? You do that, she isn’t going to love you. She’s going to want to smash something over your head, if you don’t get her under control. And controlling someone that deeply, without them wanting it, heart and soul, it makes them hate you, down deep, forever.”
“And that was you helping?”
“Just my thoughts. Yes. It was. You know my kind’s history. I know slavery from the inside.”
Torgeir sighed, watching he
r turn in the bed toward him, her eyelashes fluttering. If she heard this and remembered...
“Your past is different. If I don’t do this, I might lose her completely. It’s worth it.”
Silence from Dresdek. He picked up the encryptor. The bot’s medical scans had showed her limbs were more cybernetic than elsewhere. The total percentage had surprised him but it was a plus. The encryptor liked to start with the cybernetics. When he pushed the sensing nub of the device to her wrist, the light blinked rapidly. After twenty or thirty seconds, the light went a solid red, then it slowly changed to blue. He kept it on her skin, sure that his hand was warming up. The light went green. He lifted the encryptor away and switched it off.
Done. Every cybernetic part in her, every living cell in her body, now held his personal code.
Dresdek pushed himself away from the wall and stamped his boots, making them jingle. “Hope you don’t regret that.”
“I won’t.”
Knowing his code was inside her pleased him. Watching her sleeping aroused a fierce satisfaction. The soft curves where the sheet caressed her body, the rise and fall of her chest, the tumble of her hair over the pillow – his. He’d not take her until she said yes, but with this, she was his.
Chapter 8
A man was looking down at her. Not an enemy, no. Her memory told her that. Torgeir.
“Awake at last? You’ve been drifting in and out for hours.”
“I guess.” She frowned, feeling her forehead crease. “Where am I?”
A sheet covered her. Phew.
Memory whiplashed in.
Oh god. The last she remembered the captain had been beating her. The pain was gone. Her feet ached a little but there was nothing more that said she’d been hurt badly, and it had been bad. Even the sheet near her face had been smeared with blood spray.
Stop thinking about that. It would go in circles in her head if she dwelled on it. Around and around and around. She knew her habits.
She propped herself up shakily on her side, using her elbow beneath her. The fixtures of the room were familiar.
“I’m still on the Finatar?”
Her trembling voice must’ve betrayed her fears, since he leaned in and said, “You’re safe. We caught them. They’re all in custody or dead and being taken back to Sicar by the police. The captain of this ship is dead.” She read sadness and knowledge in his eyes. He knew what had happened to her? “The Finatar is now mine under salvage law.”
All good then. Except for one thing.
“Why am I here with you?” She’d had enough of being taken places she didn’t want to go.
He paused before answering and she had time to register the strength in his jaw and the way the darker browns in his hair set off the blond colors. How his tousled hair fell over his ears. The size of the hand engulfing hers. He had such kind golden gray eyes too.
Like maybe he’d give her his last piece of bread when starving?
Uh-huh. Let me spew now. Was her natural soppiness coming out under the influence of drugs?
She struggled to sit up, finding yet again that her feet didn’t quite touch the ground. The bunks here were too high. The sheet had fallen away, revealing she had on shorts and top still, except this was her green pair.
Clean clothes.
She’d been changed? By who? Suspicious, she eyed him, then she swayed and had put her hand out to stop herself toppling. Torgeir caught her first, by her shoulder.
Damn, he had nice biceps too.
“Are you okay?”
“Fine. I’m fine. Why am I here? On this ship?”
“I thought you’d rather be on a new planet. We’re going to Riptide.”
“Good.” Best be firm. “You can leave me there.”
“You think you can find work there, without even knowing what sort of place it is?”
She looked at the floor. Would her legs function? “Yes. You can tell me all about it. When do we arrive?”
“In about six days.”
At least he hadn’t tried to claim her again. “I never said thank you for what you did on Sicar, and now this... Thank you. I guess I owe you one, only not money.” She laughed without humor. “I don’t think I can afford that. Maybe one day I can pay you back?”
“Sure.” He smiled. It could have been an innocuous piece of body language except something hinted at a depth of emotion that shouldn’t have been there.
Ella nodded. Be careful around this man, her internal, female alarm seemed to be saying. Maybe the danger was minor, but with Torgeir, she could never let down her guard.
She swallowed as the grip of his hand on hers tightened, a fraction. A tingle unfurled, spreading, warming her everywhere with an awareness of how close they were physically.
Her breathing deepened and she had to clamp down hard to calm herself.
The man versus woman world of sexuality never went away.
For the first time, she went farther with those thoughts. What was so wrong with that? Torgeir attracted her. Why not explore a little? He’d released her on Sicar. What he’d just done for her was incredible. If not for him, she’d be a slave and in the hands of some stranger.
The pain and horror of what the captain had done would never leave her entirely.
She smiled back at him, feeling it liven her eyes. The man had beautiful lips. Her toes curled as she imagined kissing him.
Did he even want her? She was pretty sure the attraction went both ways.
He’s different though. Not from Earth. Whatever he thought normal, it might horrify her. Did they even have one-night stands? She’d need to spell this out, make certain they were on the same page. No confusion.
“How did you know? To rescue me?”
“Kalfa is my friend. He told me your captain had asked him suspicious questions about your buyer.” He shrugged. “I thought you were in trouble, so I helped you.”
Said so nonchalantly and yet again, in the narrowness of his gaze and his stillness, she sensed he wasn’t telling her everything. He’d gained a whole ship doing this. That would be motivation enough for anyone. It didn’t matter though if he wasn’t some pure white knight sort. He’d still helped her.
A memory surfaced. Mimi!
“Your pet, Mimi. Did you know she was here? Is she supposed to be here?”
“Ha. No. I mean, yes, I know she’s on this ship though she’s hiding somewhere. But she’s not supposed to be here. I don’t know how or why. Perhaps she was somehow forced on board? We’ll have to watch for her. As far as I know, no MeMoMe has ever left Sicar, until now. But...enough talk. I’ll leave you to get dressed. Those are your pajamas I put on you, I guess?”
She blushed hot. It had been him. “Yes.”
“Come out when you’re ready. The midday meal is in an hour. We’re on Riptide standard time already. There’s only Dresdek, me, and you, to get this ship running properly again. We’re still doing repairs. If you want to help, I can find stuff for you to do. Okay?”
She nodded.
He sat up straighter, with those big hands on his thighs. The gray ship’s pants, standard-issue heavy cloth, made his legs look like pillars. Torgeir was far bigger than her. She liked that in a man.
Having Torgeir in bed with her might do more than rock her world.
“See you out there.”
The door closed behind him.
The healing wounds across the front of her ankles reminded her of who she was inside. A plain human might’ve torn her legs off doing what she had.
Would he mind? Did he know how close she was to cyborg status? She was worrying over crap that might never be an issue. He might not like her that much. Maybe he’d rather take Dresdek to bed? Or a squid monster from the planet who-knows-what?
She let herself fall backward onto the bed so she was flat on her back staring at the ceiling.
Interplanetary relationships were going to be hell to figure.
*****
>
Slowly, over the next few days, she figured out where she fit in, what she could do to help. Not a lot. The ship had ample food supplies and air and the ship’s mess could be automated. The food the robot chef produced beat anything she made by ten. She wasn’t up on ship mechanics but she could hand over stuff. So she found herself following Torgeir about being a general fetch-it person.
She had healed so fast it’d worried her, but apparently that was standard if you could afford the best. The police doctor had access to the best, at least when it concerned cuts, bruises, and strains.
On the third day, Dresdek was off attaching some hull structures so a repair bot could rig a temporary skin over the missile-created hole, while she helped Torgeir with the back-up cybernetic brain for the fuel system. He sat before the waist-high console, in the middle of the room, peering at the innards. A square of surface from the console had been removed so he could replace some slightly frazzled brain cards.
His hand appeared at his shoulder. “Next.”
She handed him another of the thumb-sized things. It was a clear bluish plas-g with some shiny stuff embedded. “Last one.”
“Yup.”
She grinned. Saying yup instead of the alien yes was a mannerism he’d seemingly adopted since knowing her. Something bugged her about how he held the card. She put a hand on his shoulder and leaned in to look, tugging automatically at the skirt she wore. It rode up way too high, almost to her butt but then she’d known that.
When she’d considered what to wear this morning, something provocative had been her first pick. Torgeir brought out her inner slut. Shamefully. But no one apart from the three of them would see or know, so she’d said to Hell with it and put it on.
“Upside down again,” she whispered.
“It is?” He stared at it and turned it around.
“Yes. It is.”
“Half these things are way too old to be allowed on most ships.” He used the tool loupe that lay on the console. “You’re right. Second one today.” He slotted it into place then half-turned to look up at her. “How did you spot it?”
“Um. I just...do?” The man’s gaze never faltered and she tumbled into an awareness of his near vicinity, the heat of his body, and the solidness of his muscles under her palm. A high, thin note sang in her ears.
Cyberella: Preyfinders Universe Page 5