Tiger of Talmare

by Nina Croft

  "Okay, stop right there."

  He ignored her warning. "And..."

  She pressed the green button. His body went rigid. Shock and anger flashed across his face, but it definitely shut him up. She pressed the red button.

  "Sorry," she murmured, "my finger slipped."

  He glared at her but recovered quickly. "So why are you really here?" he asked. "I don't believe you came just to tell me Leila was bringing my food from now on."

  She shrugged. "I decided that it was only fair to let you know that this whole thing isn't personal." At his look of complete disbelief, she continued. "It occurred to me that you might be laboring under the misapprehension that it was. Personal, I mean. You know, because of the unfair way you persecuted me..."

  "Unfair! You stole my ship."

  "...in the past." She ignored his comment. "But I want to assure you that it isn't. It's purely business. You're simply a commodity that someone is willing to pay for."

  He was looking at her in amazement. "Are you totally without morals?"

  She nodded. "Yup."

  "I don't believe you. You're feeling guilty, that's why you're here. You don't really want to hand me over to Sanderson."

  "Oh, yes, I do. Besides," she continued, "it really doesn't matter. As I've just been explaining to the rest of the crew. I have no choice. I need the money." She didn't know why she told him that, but maybe it would prove she was serious, and he would stop bugging her.

  "I told you, I can get money."

  "But I need the money, now."

  "Mercenary bitch."

  She stared up at him. He loomed over her, arms folded across his bare chest, legs apart, peering down at her from his considerable height.

  Superior bastard. Yeah, she was mercenary, but she had to be, she had responsibilities. He was starting to piss her off. Again. It was amazing, but some people never learned. She gave in to the urge and pressed the green button.

  Shock flashed across his face as the paralysis took effect. Followed by a flare of fury that changed his eyes to pure, molten gold. Then he toppled over. The cot was behind him, and he landed quite safely, still locked in position, legs spread, arms folded. He didn't look quite so superior horizontal, and Mel couldn't suppress her grin. God, she liked those cuffs.

  She moved to stand over him. "Just to let you know, that time, I did it on purpose."

  He emitted a low growl, sounding pure animal. "Let me go," he ground out.

  "Hmm," she pondered. "What to do? I tell you what, I'll let you go if you promise to sit over there and be a good kitty. I'll even give you five minutes of my valuable time to tell me what it is that's so important."

  She watched as he fought to get his anger under control. She had to admit, he did a much better job than she would have done under similar circumstances. Finally, he nodded, and almost reluctantly, Mel pressed the red button.

  His eyes still promised retribution if ever their positions were reversed, but he sat up and leaned against the wall behind him. "You'll listen?"

  Mel nodded. "That's what I said, isn't it?"

  "Pieter Sanderson needs to be stopped."

  "Stopped from what?"

  "He's going to challenge the Intergalactic Agency."

  "So? Why should I even care? What's the Agency ever done for me? Fuck all. That's what."

  "The Agency is all that keeps the universe from chaos."

  "I like chaos. More pickings for the likes of me."

  "There'll be no pickings for the likes of you if the space liners stop running. No planet hopping, no long distance travel, whole worlds will be cut off, isolated."

  That did sound bad, but she couldn't see how Sanderson could do it, or even why he would want to. She said as much.

  "He's breeding telepaths," Zach said.

  A ripple of shock ran through her. "What? What have telepaths got to do with anything?"

  "You do know how the space liners work?"

  "Not really," she admitted.

  He shook his head as if he couldn't quite believe anyone could be so ignorant. Why was it, she wondered, that the man couldn't seem to go five minutes without irritating her with his superior attitude. Didn't he realize he was in big trouble here? Didn't he realize that a little humility was sensible for someone in his position?

  "Well, the space liners are piloted by genetically modified telepaths, specially bred by the Agency. They literally think their way through space."

  Mel was getting a bad feeling about this. Something prodded at the back of her mind.

  "Without these telepaths the liners don't move, and we're stranded," Zach continued. "The breeding of telepaths is carefully controlled by the Agency and off limits to everyone else."

  "Why?" She was pretty sure she wasn't going to like the answer.

  "Because they can interfere with the piloting of the liners and cause the pilots to crash. And you know what that's like. You've been on one space liner that crashed."

  Oh yes, she'd been on a space liner that crashed. So had Leila, who also happened to be a telepath. The vague feeling of unease that had been prodding her, suddenly crystallized into a hard lump that couldn't be ignored. She really hoped she was wrong about this, she'd know, once she spoke to Leila.

  "I've got to go," she said.

  "What? Haven't you been listening to a word I've said? We need to stop Sanderson."

  He got to his feet. Mel took a step back, pulled the activator from her pocket, and waved it at him. He stopped mid-stride. His hands were clenched at his side, his teeth gritted, his eyes spitting sparks, but he stayed where he was.

  Mel felt behind her for the door panel. She didn't take her eyes off him as she pressed her palm to the controls. The door slid open and she backed out, releasing her breath as it closed behind her.

  ****

  She found Leila in her cabin, working on something at the table, her hands protected by rubber gloves.

  "What are you doing?" Mel asked.

  Leila glanced up. "Mixing poison."

  "Hmm, nice hobby."

  "Yeah, it's great. You know, this stuff is sooo powerful. You're dead if it so much as touches your skin. Now all I have to do is think of a way to get it on the subject without killing myself at the same time."

  "I suppose that would be a bit of a disadvantage."

  "What I really need is someone to practice on."

  Mel decided not to answer that. Instead, she came into the room, shutting the door behind her. She wasn't quite sure how to broach her subject; Leila was such a private person. She decided on the direct approach. "Leila?"

  "Yes?"

  "Do you come from Talmare?"

  Leila put down her poison and peeled off her rubber gloves before answering. "Yes."

  "Why didn't you tell me?"

  "I didn't think it mattered. We said 'no past' remember, 'only the future'."

  "But when we got involved with Sanderson, didn't you think it was relevant?"

  Leila shrugged. "Not really, I've never even seen Governor Sanderson. We didn't exactly move in the same circles."

  Sinking down on the bed, Mel examined Leila. She seemed unperturbed by the questions. But then Mel had never found anything that affected the girl. Well, apart from killing, that always seemed to cheer her up. "Leila, what happened to you?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "How did you end up in the space brothel?"

  Leila frowned. "What's going on?"

  "I just need to get something straightened out in my head. Something Zach said."

  "Zach? Since when have you been on first name terms with the Tiger?"

  "Please, Leila. Just tell me."

  Annoyance flickered in Leila's eyes then it was gone. "I grew up in a camp on Talmare." Her voice was completely devoid of emotion, as though she were telling a story about someone else. "There were about twenty women altogether. I don't know where they all came from. Some were off-worlders. Some, like my mother, came from Talmare. Anyway, many of the children
showed signs of telepathy, normally at puberty. They were taken away. I had a brother, Darren, he was a year older than me. They took him when he was thirteen, and we never saw him again. So when I started showing signs, my mother told me to hide it, to pretend I was normal. It worked for a couple of years, but something must have happened. The whole camp was taken apart. My mother was killed. I saw her die. I guess I was supposed to die as well, but the guys in charge must have seen a way of making some extra cash and sold me on to the brothel."

  She fell silent. Mel got up and crossed the room, then wrapped Leila in a tight hug. "I'm sorry."

  "You know, I still wonder if Darren's alive somewhere."

  Mel released her and took a step back. She stood thinking over the story, trying to tie it into what Zach had told her. "Leila, you remember when we were on the space liner?"

  "Yes."

  "Did you do anything?"

  "What do you mean 'anything'?"

  "Did you have any mind contact with anyone?"

  Leila nodded. "Just before we crashed."

  "You mean you read someone?"

  "Not really. It was different. They were reading me as much as anything. I sent out a probe, but we crashed soon after. And when I came to after the crash, they were gone. What's this all about, Mel?"

  Could Leila really have been responsible for the crash of an entire Intergalactic space liner? It seemed inconceivable, and Mel really didn't want to lay that on her until she was absolutely convinced she was right. "I'm not sure. I have to go back, talk to Zach."

  "Do you want me to come and read him?"

  "Not just yet. Let me talk to him first. I don't believe a word of what he says, but there's something funny going on with Sanderson. Zach says he's dangerous, and maybe he's right."

  "It won't make a difference, though. You're still going to hand him over, right?"

  "Of course I am. I just need to be prepared in case we run into any trouble at the rendezvous."

  Back to Table of Contents

  Chapter Four

  Zach was deep in a daydream, and as daydreams went, it was pretty damn good. The "plan" was going perfectly. He was right in the middle of the seducing part, and Mel had that soft, sweet mouth wrapped around his cock.

  She was sucking him hard, while her hands were stroking his balls, nice and gentle. He groaned. That woman might not know it, but she was hot. Hot, ready, and eager to give him everything he wanted. He rolled onto his front, and his hand slipped down inside his pants, just to check everything was okay. It was fine, coming along nicely.

  The door opened behind him, and he went still, his hand still gripping his hardening cock.

  He slowly let himself go, pulled his hand out of his pants, and rolled onto his back.

  She was staring at him, a frown on her face. "What are you doing?"

  Zach glanced down; his erection was subsiding but still obvious. "What does it look like I'm doing?" he growled. "I'm passing the time. Any problem with that?"

  Mel frowned at his vehemence. She appeared distracted, and it occurred to Zach that she might not have noticed what he was doing. Which meant he had another chance to get the plan back on track. It hadn't gone too well so far, but things were about to improve. He was sure she liked him, underneath. Well, maybe a long way underneath, he admitted, studying her tense figure in the doorway.

  Her mouth was held in a tight line, her hands thrust into the pockets of her pants where he could see the telltale bulge of the activator. His body flinched at the memory. He decided he wasn't getting up this time. If she was going to zap him with that thing again, he was better off where he was. "Come on in," he said.

  She frowned again but took a step into the room. "We need to talk about Sanderson."

  It was Zach's turn to frown. "Isn't that my line?"

  "Tell me about these telepaths he's breeding."

  Zach forced his attention away from his cock. He needed to be convincing here. This was important. He sat up. "Pieter runs breeding camps on Talmare. He takes women with known psychic abilities and has them impregnated. There's also some sort of genetic modification program, but I'm not sure what."

  "What happens to the camps, to the people?"

  "As far as I can tell, they're destroyed, and everyone in them. Except for the telepaths, they're taken somewhere else. I couldn't find where. The people I was supposed to have killed, my 'massacre', that was one of the camps. Pieter was just being efficient, he managed to destroy the camp and blame me at the same time."

  She looked skeptical. "You mean you didn't kill anyone?"

  He felt a flicker of irritation. "I know it doesn't fit in with your cozy plans to hand me over to Pieter, but no, I didn't kill anyone. Well, not then, anyway. And before you ask, I did not, and never have, eaten human flesh."

  He couldn't tell whether she believed him or not.

  "Okay," she said, "so he breeds telepaths. And then what?"

  "I told you, he can use them to stop the space liner traffic. And probably run his own fleet."

  "But what is it he wants?"

  "Who knows? Best case scenario—he wants money, and it's a simple blackmail job. But I don't think so. There's too much time and too much planning gone into this. I think he's after power."

  "Power to do what?"

  "Whoever controls interstellar travel controls everything. They can hold the universe to ransom. Look, even if you do hand me over, you can still take this information and warn the Agency."

  "The Agency will never listen to someone like me."

  "No, probably not, but you might worry them enough to at least keep an eye on Sanderson."

  "I'll think about it," she said. "So, how do they stop the liners?"

  "The pilots are vulnerable when they're flying. Their minds wide open to attack. Another telepath can get in there and cause irreparable damage."

  "Anything like the liner we were on? The one that crashed?"

  He frowned at the question, but nodded. "Exactly like that, I suppose. I never did find out what caused that crash, but it would be similar."

  "Oh." She was quiet for a moment. She turned, and he realized, with a start, that she was leaving again. She couldn't go now; he needed more time to implement the plan. But it was more than that. With a stab of surprise, he recognized that he wanted her to stay. He wanted to kiss her again, wanted to feel those long legs wrapped around him, his cock inside her and just lose himself. Forget Pieter, forget the plan, forget everything for a while. He rolled onto his feet. "Hey, wait!"

  ****

  Mel needed to get away, to think about what he had told her, to decide whether to tell Leila, that in all likelihood, she was responsible for the crash of an entire space liner. The thing was, with Leila, would she even be upset? Tickled pink, more likely. Still, Mel wasn't looking forward to the meeting.

  Zach called out, and she looked back.

  He was standing by the cot. "What?" she asked.

  "Before you go, there's something that's been bothering me about you."

  "Really?"

  "Hmm, I've seen your records. You were sentenced to life in the asteroid mines for that murder, so what were you doing on that space liner three years later?"

  She shrugged. Why not tell him, it was no secret, and she certainly wasn't ashamed of something she'd had no control over. "I never got to the mines. I was sold to one of the space brothels."

  "Brothels are illegal."

  "Wow, you don't say. Then I guess there are some unscrupulous people about. Besides, don't tell me you've never paid for it."

  "I've never paid for it." He grinned. "Never had to."

  No, the smooth bastard probably didn't need to. She'd bet he had women falling over themselves to get a piece.

  "So what happened?" he asked.

  "To what?"

  "To you? How did you end up on the liner?"

  "Oh. Well, I think they decided I was more trouble than I was worth."

  "That figures."

  She igno
red the comment. "I spent three years chained up like an animal while any man who had the money to pay could have me. I was kept drugged most of the time, after all, I was a convicted murderer. But they got careless one day, the drugs wore off, and I killed one of their best customers." She smiled. "So you see, that woman wasn't the only innocent I've murdered."