Deep Indigo: Orion, Book 4

by Cathryn Cade

  “This had better work,” he said. “I’m out of patience. I’ve tried everything—an enviro-terror group, a paid saboteur in their own guard, even those damned serpents! If these Indigons cannot deliver that ship to me as they have promised, I’ll take a weapon and go after her myself!

  “The Orion,” he sneered. “The shining hope, the flagship of Logan Stark’s space cruise and transport enterprise. Ha! He’ll lose his arrogance and position as the darling of investors soon enough, when I’ve destroyed his ship and his reputation. Then PanRra Air will arise as the premier shipping line in the galaxy. And I’ll be the vaunted one, not that upstart bastard!”

  A chime sounded and he whirled, a look of rage on his narrow face at the interruption to his tirade. Then he smiled slowly as he turned to Lly. Fear trickled icily down her spine. It was not a pleasant smile.

  “Ah,” he said smoothly as if his rage had never occurred. “Our guests are here, or should I say, our entertainment for the evening.”

  “You invited entertainers?” She tried to look pleased.

  He gave her a gloating look. “Oh, yes. I must have a respite from this constant stress. And you’ll be joining them, my dear.”

  She rose in a flutter of yellow lii silk. “What do you mean?”

  He chuckled softly as behind him a small group of beings appeared. A lovely Serpentian woman swathed in a long golden cape was followed by two tall, muscular human males clad only in tight snakeskin pants. One of them carried a covered cage.

  “I mean, my dear, you’ll be part of the show.”

  While Lly stood like a statue, too frozen with shock to move, he threw himself back onto the divan and picked up his drink, gesturing expansively at the Serpentian and her companions.

  “Get on with it,” he ordered.

  The Serpentian woman threw back her cape, revealing that under it she wore only a few bands of snakeskin. She smiled enticingly at Rra, darting her forked tongue at him as she dropped the length of gold fabric over the long hassock before the divan.

  One of the men drew the cover off of the cage. Lly caught her breath in revulsion as she saw it contained a large snake, its head swaying back and forth, tongue flicking the air.

  The other man sauntered over to Lly and, before she could defend herself, he grasped her delicate gown in his hands and ripped it open from top to bottom.

  She cried out in horror. He grinned down at her, his gaze crawling lasciviously over her slender, naked body. “Don’t worry, sugar,” he drawled. “We’re gonna show you a real good time.”

  Lly reached out entreatingly to her lover. “Rra—please!”

  But he merely smiled, his eyes alight with a cruel pleasure. “Entertain me. That is why I keep you in silk and jewels, isn’t it?”

  Chapter Eight

  Nelah Cobalt had suffered injustice before in her life, but none had ever angered her as much as having Daron Navos first enter her mind, then her body, only to inform her that, after all that, she was not to be his intern.

  It didn’t matter in the slightest that he’d offered her a clear choice and then stuck to his word. What mattered in her heart was that he’d given her a taste of the heavens and then yanked it away. Even after they’d been through such a harrowing experience, sharing the communion of fellow combatants. The deep bond between them hadn’t been just sexual—it hadn’t!

  She scrubbed herself in the shower-dry unit until all traces of their sexual union were obliterated, dressed in fresh clothing and sank down cross-legged to calm herself with meditation. All this soothing exercise did was give her a headache.

  When it was accompanied by a hollow rumbling from her stomach, she realized she was desperately hungry. In fact, she couldn’t remember her last meal. She thought it had been an attempted snack in the space terminal café, though she’d been anxious and excited about boarding the Orion and meeting Navos.

  Well, she’d gotten over that, at least. She used her com-link to order breakfast from the ship’s service and fell on it ravenously, eating the entire dish of artfully arranged Pangaean fruits before pouring herself a cup of steaming tea, which she enjoyed between bites of fragrant spice bread and eggs.

  With her hunger satisfied, her head was clearer. She’d truly been operating without fuel. Settling back in the comfortable armchair with her tea, Nelah held it close to absorb the warmth, and stared unseeingly into the steam gently wafting from the cup. What should she do now?

  Her eyes narrowed. It must be something suitably defiant. She was sure of one thing—she wasn’t going to slink quietly away for Daron Navos’s convenience. She wanted to inconvenience him—as much as possible.

  And meanwhile, since she was no longer employed, nor a student, she supposed she was a tourist. On a huge, state-of-the-art cruise ship, equipped with a gym, a spa and even shops. Her lips curled up with satisfaction.

  Her parents had left her rather well-off. Her mother had been a wealthy woman when she married Loftan Cyan. After her death, he spent his portion of the inheritance and sold the lovely house in the mountains. But, thanks to her mother’s financial advisors, he’d been unable to access the money left to Nelah. He’d tried to get his revenge by sending her to a post where she was not welcome. By building her a bubble and then popping it.

  She’d known something was wrong when he bid her goodbye before this journey—he’d had such a peculiar gloating look in his eyes, as if he were trying not to chuckle. Now she understood why.

  Realizing she was likely to end up in tears again if she allowed herself to dwell on the past, Nelah rose, her small chin set firmly. She was going have a good physical workout, avail herself of the technicians in the spa and then go shopping.

  Wandering the passageways of the huge ship, she stopped to look at a map of locations on her com-link. Finding a chapel just ahead, she slipped quietly into the quiet, softly lit room and sank down on one of the small seats. Bowing her head, she said a silent prayer for the poor mad soul who had died and asked forgiveness for her part in his death.

  When she left, she felt steadier. Better able to accept that her life was indelibly changed. For the first time she had a visceral sense of the great responsibility she and other Indigons of power carried. Her professors had lectured her about the subject and she’d listened, but now—now it was real.

  She also, reluctantly, understood more clearly why Daron Navos was so…so quarking controlled. He was extremely powerful, psychically speaking. He also held a position of great responsibility on this ship. If anything happened to the captain, Navos would assume leadership.

  If she were honest, Navos was the epitome of Indigon chill, as she and her friends had said in school. It was partly that which had attracted her to him. His deep blue eyes, his very demeanor, promised calm and competence.

  He was the polar opposite of her father. Poor Dad, she thought with a wry smile. He’d been a brilliant inventor. But he was also a perennial child, with all the bursting enthusiasm and essential unreliability. He’d been her favorite person when she was little—always sharing some new toy or idea for fun. As she grew older, she realized her mother was the one who held the family together, who struggled to find equilibrium for herself and her daughter between the cycles of wealth and poverty, as her father created new inventions and then failed to care for the financial end of his business.

  Fortunately, Nelah’s mother had found a good lawyer to help her patent his last invention, lawn-care robotics. They were an instant hit on Indigo, Pangaea and Earth II. When he died in the horrible accident with a malfunctioning robot, the family was solvent. Their small fortune had grown steadily, at least until Loftan Cyan got his hands in the coffers.

  Nelah grimaced, wishing she could stop thinking of him. Here was the gymnasium, with what looked like a class in flexion. She needed to move. Both her mind and her healthy young body were restless. She accepted a brief singlet from the attendant and changed quickly in the locker room. In moments she was perched on a series of mats between a slend
er, pale green Pangaean and a red-speckled Hobian, watching the class instructor, a graceful, silver-haired Aquarian with a serene smile.

  As she flowed smoothly through the moves of her flexion routine, Nelah let her mind run free along the path of revenge. She might understand why Daron Navos behaved as he did, but she still wanted to get even, in a purely feminine way.

  Navos had called for another intern to be brought out to the ship. He wouldn’t train her, even with her talent, which she’d been told was extraordinary for a woman. He was ready to accept her only on his terms, as a sexual partner. Very well, she would throw herself into the part of seductress—only she would choose another lover, right in front of him. After she arrayed herself for battle.

  The Orion’s spa was a small gem, a place of gentle corals and creams, with golden light that made every being glow. It was like being inside a huge seashell, Nelah thought as she settled in an exquisitely comfortable air-pillowed chair in front of the mirrors. The attendant, a graceful male with lavender skin and hair spiked up like a jet-and-purple thistle, wrapped her in warm towels, smeared thick goop over her face and throat and then set a steaming drink by her elbow before drifting away.

  “Hi,” said a soft, friendly voice. A lovely young woman smiled at her from the next chair. Her red-gold hair was sleeked back from her face, wet, and she had green goo smeared on her hands and feet. “Enjoying your voyage?”

  “It certainly has been interesting, so far,” Nelah said carefully.

  The other woman’s eyes sharpened and she made a face. “Oh, dear. I just realized who you are. You’re Indigon. You must be Nelah. I’m so sorry about what happened.”

  “Thank you,” Nelah said faintly.

  The other woman’s cheeks flushed. “Sorry,” she said again. “I’m Tessa Craig. Captain Craig’s wife. I’m not usually so gauche—I think.”

  Nelah had to smile at her then. Tessa’s self-deprecating candor was charming.

  “I’m Nelah Cobalt. Thank you for your concern. It was indeed horrible, what happened to that poor man.”

  “Yes. I’m glad to see you’re doing therapy,” Tessa said. “The spa is very soothing. Makes me feel like a new woman.” She waggled her hands. “I’m in the ships guard and we train constantly. My hands and feet are always developing new calluses.”

  “You work on the ship, even though you are married to the captain?” Nelah asked.

  “Oh, yes. Steven knows I’d go crazy just sitting around. I didn’t train so hard for nothing.”

  “Indeed,” Nelah agreed. Neither had she. Her anger at Daron Navos flamed again. His captain was apparently enlightened, even if he was not.

  Her attendant returned and she said goodbye to Tessa Craig before she was escorted off to a bath before her cosmetics session.

  That evening Navos sat at the head table in the mess hall with a sense of relief. He planned to have a glass or two of blue wine with his dinner, relax and then go to his room early—alone.

  He looked around the big dining room—it was nearly full this evening, abuzz with conversation as passengers met each other and crew chatted about what they had done on their break. A group of Barillians wended their stately way through the tables, humming to each other through the tall pipes protruding from their lavender skulls. Joined by a pair of Mauritanians, showing their large sharp teeth, a family of small, slender Pangaeans rose en masse, their green corn-silk hair waggling in alarm, and scurried to another table.

  Navos watched with a minimum of interest. The Serpentian guards were everywhere, some on duty around the perimeter, some at dinner. If it became necessary, he knew they would spring into action to remove any problem swiftly and efficiently.

  Two young Indigons sat at a table just below his own. He saw with approval that they were visiting quietly, watching the other passengers. He’d spoken by holo-vid with the vice regent at the Indigon University that morning. He was immediately assured two candidates would arrive today by shuttle. It seemed his services as a mentor were in great demand and the regent was not going to pass up a chance to place new graduates. Navos had been invited to interview both young men and choose one or both as interns.

  The vice regent had asked politely about his problem with Ms. Cobalt. Navos merely said that although psychically talented, she wasn’t suitable. He hadn’t mentioned the death of the Indigon boy—it would come out soon enough in the galactic news.

  Navos had just been served his dinner when awareness riffled across his mind like a sudden warm breeze. The two young Indigons sat up, staring raptly at the main entrance to the hall. As were many other males present, including the male Serpentian guards, always looking for a new conquest. Following their gaze, Navos froze with his wineglass at his lips.

  A lovely, exotic young woman stood in the arching entryway, poised as lightly as a butterfly on a bloom. She wore a slim fall of silvery blue lii leaf silk, slender arms and shoulders bare. Her only adornments were a heavy silver bangle on one wrist and two long streaks of silver dangling from her earlobes. The short feathery cap of her black hair was a foil for her lovely face, and delicate cosmetics rendered her blue eyes huge and smoky, her lips like orchid petals.

  He felt a now-familiar jolt in his gut.

  The Indigon beauty was none other than the woman he’d last seen flushed and tousled from his embrace. Nelah—her name whispered through his mind like a warm caress.

  She looked toward him and he saw her lips curve up in a tiny smile. Ignoring the many eyes riveted on her, she walked gracefully toward him across the room. He realized belatedly he was staring like a fool. He took a long drink of his wine and set his glass down carefully, ready to rise courteously when she neared him.

  A carefully shielded part of him rejoiced with fierce male triumph. This beautiful female was his—he’d taken her, body and mind, made her cry out with ecstasy. The memory of her impossibly tight, silken depths receiving him sent heat glowing in his loins, spreading up through him in a liquid tide.

  But there was something in her swaying, sensual walk, something in the mystery of that little smile that sent an icy trickle of foreboding down his spine. He took another careful drink of wine and then watched over his glass as she stopped, not before his table, but before the two younger Indigons.

  Rising so quickly they resembled automatons springing from a box, one pulled out a chair for her, the other bowing. Then the two of them sat and leaned toward her, their eyes riveted on her face.

  Their exuberant attraction buffeted Navos. He slammed his mental shields into place, shutting out their youthful lust.

  For one awful moment he wondered if she’d deliberately seduced him and was moving on to new prey. Then his common sense took over. He recalled her naïveté, her inability to control the power of her attraction to him. No, he’d been the instigator.

  His eyes narrowed. This, if he was not mistaken, was her feminine revenge. She was playing the youths, in a clear attempt to play him. By the great God beyond, she wouldn’t succeed. Still, cold rage filled his gut with ice as she ignored him completely, turning with pretty grace between the two younger Indigons, who were plainly enthralled.

  As any man would be. Her delicate breasts were ready to fall out of that ridiculous excuse for a gown. As she sank into her chair, he glimpsed the dimples at the base of her bare back. Any Indigon lady of wealth and breeding might wear such a gown, but on her—Navos wanted to yank off the nearest tablecloth and throw it around her, covering that pale skin from any eyes other than his own.

  He drained his wineglass and signaled for another. Then he turned with determination to his own table. As he did so, his eyes met Craig’s. That ice blue gaze held mingled commiseration and a glint of humor. Navos froze as he realized that to his old friend, if no one else, his jealousy was apparent.

  That was unacceptable. He was Indigon, possessed of more mental power than most of those in this huge room combined. No slip of a girl would make a mockery of his superior intellect.

  Dinn
er was an ordeal. In the periphery of his vision an incandescent Nelah flirted and laughed with the Indigons. At his table, he was surrounded by couples. Happy couples. Couples glowing with unions both sensual and spiritual. The Dragolins, the Craigs, even Halix and his lover, Lt. Qwerx of the InterGalactic Police. Their happiness was nauseating.

  He wished nothing more than to shove back his chair with a crash, grab the carafe of wine from the center of the table and stalk out of the room. Pride alone kept him from doing so. Dinner was a delicately prepared concoction of Aquarian sole and Pangaean rice and vegetables. He ate with mechanical precision, barely tasting it. He chatted politely with his co-commanders and their mates. He drank more wine than usual.

  At last dinner was over and he could rise and walk with Halix and Qwerx to one of the quieter lounges for a game of holo-dice.

  As they passed the other Indigons, he heard Nelah ask, a laugh in her voice, if the two younger men had ever danced the samba-lea, a sensual dance performed not with one partner, but in a group. There was a band on board that specialized in this dance from the tropics of Earth II. The thought of her gyrating with these two impressionable young fools made him long to grasp her slender arm and haul her away with him where she could dance for no one but him. He stiffened his spine and his inner control. Clearly the excess wine hadn’t been a good idea.

  Navos played one game of holo-dice and then left the other two squabbling happily over who had won the first match. He started at first for his quarters, but then found his footsteps wending toward the ship’s arboretum. The owners of the space transport companies had found crew members, especially those from the verdant planets, remained in much better spirits and thus more productive on the long voyages into the cold outer reaches of space if they had a shipboard retreat that simulated nature.

  The small jungle on the top level of the ship had windows overhead so that a panoply of moons and stars were visible through the arching fronds of lush vegetation. Paths wound around the pond and bathrooms were hidden in one of the faux rocks.