Dark Stranger

by Susan Sizemore

  “That’s understandable.”

  “Yeah. None of us is immune to odd behavior,” Barb added, with a heavy touch of irony. “The hall officers figure Doc will want to deal with our nightwalker. He’s got a nice touch when it comes to talking people down off ledges, if you know what I mean.”

  Zoe nodded as they reached the bottom of the ramp. She waited as the hall officer had Raven to herself first. She watched Barb walk across the plaza toward the infirmary, then looked around for something to do while she waited to see Raven.

  Along the wall to the left she saw that Anders Cauley had a bunch of geeks literally sitting at his feet as he gave a lecture. Cauley was one of the most brilliant scientists in the Empire, a civilian captured along with the crew of a navy ship sent to evacuate his research team from a space station attack. He was Camp Five’s celebrity prisoner; a good-looking, charming man who used his celebrity to attract women. No harm in that, as one used what one had. He’d also set up an educational curriculum that helped prisoners pass the endless time in this dungeon.

  In another area of the plaza a marine sergeant was leading a group in strenuous exercise. The soccer players kept running into them, but the marines didn’t pay any attention. The smell of sweat permeated the air. Zoe had attended a tai chi class before first chow and considered that enough physical activity for this cycle.

  She gravitated toward another group. This one occupied a part of the plaza close enough to the infirmary that she could see when Barb left. She knew most of the half-dozen people, but wasn’t sure if she was happy to see them when she realized that they were engaged in a lively political debate featuring Adams and Dyal Andiki. Nevertheless she took a seat angled toward the infirmary door and prepared to keep her mouth shut no matter what.

  “I for one don’t feel oppressed,” Dyal said. He looked intently at Adams. “Even though we’re using the same language, I really don’t understand what you mean by Imperial oppression. The Hajim are oppressing me, but the Empire has never done anything but take care of me.”

  “How?” Adams demanded.

  “They paid for my education,” Dyal answered. “The Imperial armed forces keep the space lanes open for trade. They’re fighting the alien incursions.”

  “They? Don’t you mean that you’re fighting the aliens?”

  “I’m a citizen of the Empire,” Dyal said.

  “Citizens should have rights.”

  “Oh, please—”

  “Tax revenue paid for your education. In gratitude you signed up for the military, and look where that’s gotten you—a Hajim POW camp.”

  “I notice you’re sitting right here beside me. How come you joined up?”

  “My homeworld was attacked by the Hajim. The Imperial military is the only force organized enough, rich enough to fight the aliens. I’m fighting for my home in the only way open to me.”

  “Just which is your home planet?” Dyal asked suspiciously.

  “New Barton,” Adams answered with a defiant look around.

  Dyal gave a satisfied smirk. “Thought so.”

  “New Barton’s the reason we’re in this war!” Denis Orick shouted. “If you people hadn’t founded an illegal colony in Hajim-claimed territory then—”

  “That illegal colony has been paying protection money to the Imperial tyranny for fifty years!” Adams shouted back. “Paying tribute the whole time the Empire has been trying to force us to abandon our homes.”

  “You may have noticed that the Empire hasn’t forcibly evicted your people. They’ve allowed the situation to go through a long legal battle that’s been wasting plenty of time and money. And the correct term is taxes, not tribute,” Dyal said. “There’s nothing wrong with paying a reasonable amount of taxes.”

  “Most of the outer worlds’ tribute to the Empire is used to fund the indolence and decadence of Terra itself,” Adams proclaimed. “Everyone knows that no native-born Terran works for a living or pays taxes.”

  “Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!” Maria jumped to her feet. “I was born and raised on Terra and I worked in my family’s hotel until I entered university. They didn’t pay me, but we sure as hell paid taxes.” She looked around and pointed a finger at Zoe. “You’re from Terra, too. What kind of work does your family do?”

  With everyone now staring at her, Zoe got to her feet. “Well, actually, my family is supported by the Empire.”

  “Ha!” Adams proclaimed.

  “By that I mean that I come from a long line of bureaucrats. That’s how I ended up a diplomat—I went into the family business.” Before anyone could ask any more specific questions, she said, “I’ve got an appointment with Doc.”

  She headed quickly across to the infirmary. Cauley caught her eyes before she reached the door and gave her a winning smile. Several of the geeks looked around and did the same. Zoe smiled back and waved her fingers and increased her pace. Still, she noticed that her gait suddenly had a bit more swing in the hips. Male attention did have a heady effect, didn’t it?

  “Hi, Alwyn.” She greeted the nurse on duty in the tiny infirmary reception area.

  “He’s still with Langly,” the young man responded, with a distinct smirk.

  Zoe doubted there was anything untoward going on in the general’s office but she couldn’t stop the jealous twinge any more than Alwyn could help the innuendo. This place kept a person thinking about sex. Maybe it was just the lighting. The close quarters. The loneliness. The boredom.

  The fact that General Raven was the hottest male she’d ever met.

  Zoe made an effort to get her mind on something useful.

  “How’s Morgan doing?” she asked.

  “Still in intensive care.” Alwyn gestured toward the smaller of the two wards, the one that held two beds. “Have a look for yourself.”

  She pulled the curtain aside and stepped into intensive care, glad to see that Morgan was the only patient. People in Camp Five were pretty healthy. At least so far—what if this war went on for years and their sentence in this place went on and on?

  She shook off this unanswerable concern and smiled warmly at the young man propped up in the bed. “Hi! You don’t remember me—”

  “I know who you are,” he said, cutting her off.

  A rush of fear shot through Zoe before he continued.

  “You were here yesterday. You’re Zoe.”

  She relaxed and sat down on the bed next to his. The tubes and monitors that surrounded the amputee were nowhere near state-of-the-art medical equipment, but they seemed to be doing an adequate job.

  “I thought you were asleep when I visited before. How are you feeling?”

  “I was mostly awake,” he answered. “But—I was embarrassed to talk to anyone then.”

  “Why would you be embarrassed?” She touched the stump of his arm above the bandaging. “This is a war wound, received in hostile territory. You’ve earned a CRW Medal for this.”

  “That’s what Doc Raven said. He’s already given me this lecture, Zoe.”

  “I hope you’re not afraid of being ragged on about how you lost your arm when you get out of here? If you are, the best way to handle it is to be the one to make the first joke about having poisoned the Asi.”

  “Doc suggested I do that, too.”

  “Our leader is a wise man.”

  “I hope I did poison them.” Morgan turned his head away and closed his eyes. His words were choked with emotion. “I hate all aliens. I want them all dead, the ones that attack from outside the Empire and the ones hiding inside, too. Maybe them more than the obvious enemies.”

  Obvious enemies. She’d heard that term before. She was also far too aware of the vocal human movement that lobbied for the exclusion of all genetically different humans from Imperial rights and citizenship. The Exclusionists had never been a large movement, but the longer this war went on, the more strident they became about protecting humans from all alien influences.

  “You’re an Exclusionist, then?” she asked Morgan.

/>   He turned a glare on her. “You’re not one of those fools who thinks we’re safe from the mutants? Mutant my ass.” He laughed bitterly. “They’ve hypnotized most people into believing that lie. Vampires, werewolves, and their kind aren’t humans. They are demons from hell and always have been. Demons trying to suck out our souls.”

  Ancient fears were revealed by his words—terror of monsters in the dark just outside the light of the campfire, fear of people not of the tribe, fear that needed to be fought because it bubbled beneath the civilized veneer of every normal human being.

  “You see demons in the dark, where others accept superhumans as they claim to be.”

  “I see the truth. Don’t you?”

  “I’m not going to try to talk you out of what you believe,” she answered. “Besides, I never underestimate the danger inherent in being human no matter what’s in our DNA—the regular kind and the kinds with added twists. We natives of Earth have done more damage to each other than any aliens have ever inflicted.”

  Her tone was soothing. He gave a faint laugh and the tenseness relaxed from his body. “Yeah. I guess that’s true.”

  “Maybe you should take a nap now,” she suggested in the same soothing tone. She finished on a yawn. “Sorry.”

  “’S aright,” Morgan mumbled. His eyes closed and soon his breathing settled into the rhythm of deep sleep.

  Zoe waited until she was sure he was out before patting his cheek. When she stood to leave the room she saw Raven standing in the doorway, arms crossed, steadily watching her.

  14

  “I suspect you’ve been there for a while.” Zoe spoke quietly, so as not to disturb the patient.

  Doc gestured with his head and she followed him out of the room, carefully closing the curtain as she left.

  “I suspect you’ve done that before,” he said when they were alone in his office.

  “Exerted a bit of mental influence, sir?”

  “That’s an easy trick for an empath,” he told her. “I meant visiting the sick and wounded.”

  “I have a great many relatives and friends in the services, so yes, I am used to visiting the wounded.” She sighed. “The ones that make it to hospitals are lucky. Far too many get blown into vacuum.”

  “You sound like you have personal experience there, too.”

  She nodded, and swallowed hard before she answered. “My older sister was lost in an explosion in space. Not a battle, but an accident at an orbital shipyard.” She shook off the urge to fall into the old grief.

  After a moment’s sympathetic silence, he asked, “What business with the Asi have you got for me?”

  Zoe was glad to concentrate on duty. She sat back in her chair. “First off, the Asi commander wants to offer some advice. He says that if we ate more of our young, we wouldn’t have the population pressures that make us covet too much territory.”

  “I see.” Raven let out a booming laugh. “I’ll be sure to pass his wisdom along to the emperor.”

  She smiled. “I want to be there when you make that report.”

  “I’ll have Arco put it on my appointment calendar. Other than giving advice, what else are the Asi up to? And have I mentioned I’m a smidgen uneasy about your going into their territory alone?”

  “Because the camp’s so short of girls?” Zoe asked suspiciously.

  He snorted. “We may be short on female companionship—why is it more women join planetary defense forces than space services?—but I’m not putting the girls in purdah for that. Frankly …”

  He gave her a looking-over that set her blood racing.

  “… you look delicious to me, Lieutenant. Don’t the Asi think so as well?”

  She had to clear her throat before she could answer. “I’m not particularly meaty, sir. Actually, the reason I’m relatively safe among the Asi is that they refer to me as the Strong One’s Mouth. Being your representative gives me immunity. And I read somewhere that the reason there are more women in planetary and systems defenses is because we’re still suffering the psychological effects of the Bottleneck. That the urge to defend and save our homes has a strong grip on female psyches.”

  “Do you believe that bullshit?”

  Zoe shrugged. “Maybe it’s because the IMS uniforms are really ugly and could use redesigning that the services don’t attract as many women as men. Maybe you should ask the emperor to look into it when you give that report, sir.”

  “Duly noted, Lieutenant. Tell me, Mouth, what other message does the Asi honcho have for me?”

  “The Asi are worried about the rising number of humans inhabiting the camp.”

  “They have new prisoners coming in.”

  “I mentioned that to him. The Asi’s main complaint is that we’ve been allowed to move into a new corridor. They fear the way we’re spreading out.”

  “You did explain that our psychological need for space is different from theirs?”

  “Yes, sir. I emphasized that our behavior can be unpredictable and more prone to violence if we’re concentrated into overcrowded space. I think I convinced him that human riots are not in the best interest of the Asi. I think he’s mollified—for now.”

  “What about the other Asi? What’s your assessment of the power struggle over there?”

  “Very tense. I think it’s going to come to a head soon.”

  Zoe carefully didn’t offer any recommendations on how the humans should respond to the Asi internal conflict. In Camp Five, she was the Mouth, Raven was the Brains. Of course, if he should ask for her opinion—

  “Thank you, Lieutenant,” he said. “Dismissed.”

  Doc was amused at the faint outrage that flashed in Zoe’s eyes when he told her to leave. She’s a bossy child, he thought, no matter how hard she tries to be meek and agreeable. He watched her leave the office with great appreciation for the way she moved. Trim waist, great ass.

  “The uniform looks good on you,” he called after her.

  She’s got enough meat for me, he added to himself.

  When she was gone he considered the hall officers’ concerns Barb had reported to him. He took out his handheld and called up data on the newest internees. After a quick perusal of the files, his attention was caught by only one prisoner profile. This man was a transfer in from another POW camp. This was a rare occurrence and a red flag that the newbie might be trouble. This newcomer might not be the wanderer Barb worried about, but it wouldn’t hurt to have a private talk with this Jazoan to make sure he didn’t cause any problems in Doc’s camp.

  Instead of sending for the prisoner, Raven got up to go look for him. He stopped as he came into the reception area and asked, “Pappas, what are you doing here? Where’s Alwyn?”

  Zoe looked up from her datapad in surprise. “Sorry, sir. Alwyn? Oh.” She looked toward the infirmary door as if she might see the nurse entering at any moment. “He was very interested when I mentioned that Professor Cauley’s giving a lecture. He asked me if I’d hold down the fort for a few minutes while he—”

  “While he followed Barb Langly out for a bit of snogging,” Doc said, cutting her off.

  Her puzzled look was priceless. “But I thought Barb was only interested in you.”

  “Barb and Alwyn have an arrangement. Exclusive relationships are not encouraged here, Lieutenant.”

  “I know, but—” She shook her head. “Sorry, sir. I’ve already said too much.”

  He rubbed his jaw. “Yeah, me, too—I think I was just gossiping with a subordinate.” He shook a finger at her. “You bring out a tendency in people to be far too confiding in you.”

  She gave a faint smile. “I use it in my work, sir.”

  Intrigued, he pulled up a chair and sat across the desk from her. “Let’s talk, Zoe.”

  “If you’d like, sir.”

  He crossed his legs and watched her as she warily looked back. Eventually, a smile reluctantly lit her lovely face. The current of attraction tingled pleasantly between them. The atmosphere in the room warmed.r />
  Along with curiosity and the stirring of lust, he simply enjoyed being with her. He hadn’t seen her for a couple of cycles. He’d missed the conversation, the shared, knowing glances, the almost unintentional brush of skin against skin, and the simply being together that made the time worthwhile. There was something between them far more dangerous than lust.

  He liked Zoe Pappas.

  He had the bone-deep certainty that she liked him and felt it was dangerous to do so. Too late for that. But why the wariness at all?

  While nothing could make being trapped in Camp Five fun, she did bring joy into his existence. And he tried to do the same for her. He’d forgotten what caring for someone was like.

  They had an emotional connection here that was far more interesting than the casual physical relationships he shared with other women in the camp. It was a pity, really, that he’d put Zoe in his direct chain of command. He also respected her attempts not to become sexually involved with anyone in the camp.

  But things happened in the dark….

  Of course, she was still hiding something from him. He couldn’t hold that against her—he had his own secrets. But as camp commander he was concerned that her secrets could put all of his people in danger.

  He assumed that she’d lie to him if he merely asked, or even ordered her, to give information about herself. He didn’t want to put her in that position, since neither of them would like it if she had to lie.

  “What’s it like out there?” he asked.

  She tilted her head to one side. A strand of blue hair fell across her cheek. “Out where, sir?”

  He resisted the urge to brush the hair aside no matter how pleasant the silky feel of it would be. “Out in the free universe,” he clarified. “Remember that I’ve been in here a long time.”

  “Haven’t you read the data from all the new prisoners’ debrief—”

  “How come you’re in the navy and not the civilian diplomatic corps?”

  She didn’t miss a beat at the change of subject. “It’s actually one and the same now, sir. Since the navy makes most of the contact with alien species about six months ago the emperor decided to consolidate diplomatic efforts and put Admiral Fujira in overall charge of negotiations.”