Oddly, during the walk to their new quarters, Clarie had showed up with Delo. He now shared a room with Xander and Vax. The alien claimed he’d been exploring, and while Alara hoped the men could squeeze more information from him, she had her doubts. Some intelligent species had so little in common that they had no starting place to communicate. The universal translators in their suits usually did an impressive job—but she’d heard that the telepathic Osarians required touch to communicate their emotions. Speaking with one of them tended to be flat and awkward and left much to interpretation unless one held their slimy tentacles.
Alara, Cyn, and Shannon settled into their room that reminded her of a cheap overnight chamber for rent. Compact, their quarters didn’t have many amenities. The blue carpet appeared worn, the lighting dim, and the walls dingy. If this place indicated how much the Lapautee government thought of their most treasured women—the Sumaik—then this world was a mass of contradictions.
When she recalled the research she’d left behind on the Verazen, sadness weighed on her. However, Alara tried not to think about her untended DNA experiments, tried to keep her emotions level—a habit that prevented Boktai from occurring as often. Trying to focus on the hopeful side, she looked forward to getting to know the women better.
Alara missed her female friends from back home. Since arriving on the Verazen, she seemed to have spent all her time with Xander. A break would be a good thing. She liked people. She liked having friends, and without her normal relationships to fill her need for sociability, she’d relied on Xander too often.
On the Verazen, Shannon had impressed Alara with her concern for the alien, and Cyn’s love of her engines combined with her acceptance of being a woman fascinated Alara. In her experience, women who competed with men in their careers tended to take on male characteristics—but anyone who watched Cyn take three steps, her hips sensually swaying, could recognize she exuded femininity.
Shannon opened a cabinet, and cool air escaped into the room. “They stocked us with enough food for six days.”
Cyn floated into the room’s center, locked her fingers behind her head, and crossed her ankles. “I wonder if six days is how long it’ll take for them to contact the Saj.”
“If they haven’t sent a message back and forth for over five thousand years, predicting when we’ll get a reply’s impossible.” Ignoring the slight tremor in her hands due to her illness, Shannon took out a bowl and began adding ingredients as if she recognized them. “I say we eat while we can.” She lifted a creamy dark substance to her nose and sniffed. “Umm. This almost smells like chocolate.”
Cyn cocked open one eye, her expression eager. “Save a piece for me.”
“You want some, then get off your lazy ass and help me make dinner.”
Alara expected Cyn to do as Shannon asked. Instead, she closed her eye again. “And spoil all your fun? Alara, don’t let Shannon fool you. She loves to cook.”
“Do not.”
“When you feed us, you can pretend we’re family.”
“You are family.” Shannon sliced a long, yellow rootlike vegetable. “I’ve spent more time with you than my own daughters.”
“That’s because you don’t stay in one place long enough for them to visit,” Cyn countered.
“I’ll help,” Alara offered, feeling almost as if she were interfering in a private conversation. But Cyn probably didn’t know that Shannon’s health was failing, and Alara wished the Terran would rest. But if Shannon didn’t want to reveal private details about her health to Cyn, it wasn’t Alara’s place to do so. While the women had included Alara, as the newcomer among them, she couldn’t begin to comprehend the complexities of their relationship.
When a rap on the door interrupted the discussion, Alara changed direction from Shannon and the eating area to the entrance. “I’ll get it.” She opened the door, expecting to see Xander or Vax with Clarie in tow.
At the sight of six burly, official-looking Lapautee men, she braced for trouble. She’d dealt with enough Endekian officials to recognize the Lapautee ones, and she sensed a banked violence in their rigid demeanor. Hoping her past experience with officials wasn’t coloring her judgment, she stepped outside and left the door slightly ajar, so the men couldn’t see inside, but so Shannon and Cyn could overhear the conversation. “Yes?”
A blue-skinned thin man with a severe nose and tight lips read a document displayed on his portable vidscreen. “I’m here to collect Shannon Walker, Cyn from Scartar, and Dr. Alara Calladar.”
Alara warily eyed him. Lithdar had indicated it would take some time to make the arrangements, and they’d just left his office. But if the agreement between the Saj and the Lapautee had been quickly made, why weren’t the men being “collected” also?
Alara spoke loudly so Shannon and Cyn wouldn’t miss a word. “Have you already contacted the Saj?”
The Lapautee shook his head. “Our job is to collect the donors.”
“Donors?”
The man frowned at his vidscreen where he perused details, then looked at her with sorrow. “Ah, I see that you are unfamiliar with our ways. Your lottery numbers came up.”
She frowned at him. “All females in this sector are scheduled as donors,” he explained.
“Donors?”
“Everyone female on Lapau must comply with the Saj demands. The dirt eaters require us to keep our population under strict control for fear if we multiply we’ll invade their territory. Many women are in this very same predicament. I’m sorry to inform you that all humanoid females must donate their ova to the Saj.”
Alara braced one hand on the doorway, her stomach dropping in a sickening swoop and her knees going weak. The idea of these Lapautee harvesting and then destroying her ova sickened her. While she didn’t know if she ever intended to have children, and certainly not for the duration of this mission, it wasn’t right or natural for these people to invade her body, to take part of her away, especially without her consent.
She forced words through dry lips. “How many ova?”
“All of them.”
Stars! She thought they meant to take the ova moving through her fallopian tubes during this cycle. But he sounded as if he wanted her ovaries. “You want to sterilize us?”
She’d shouted the question to warn Cyn and Shannon, but also to cover the snick of the lock. Staggering, she’d clutched the doorknob, hoping it appeared she’d shut the door accidentally behind her as she tried to hold herself upright. While the men broke through the lock—and she was certain they would by the determination in their eyes—at least Cyn and Shannon could escape out the back since these people built front and rear entrances on their high-rise buildings.
In the meantime, even as panic gripped her, she had to stall. The longer she delayed, the better Cyn’s and Shannon’s chances of escape, of finding Xander and Vax and of informing them that these men had taken her. Oh, she would fight, but she was going to lose.
The man swore under his breath. “Do you know nothing? Only one in a hundred women can have children.”
“That’s barbaric.” She glanced around for a way to escape in the crowded hallway as other guards gathered the women from other rooms into a group, but then the guards herded the group away, leaving her on her own.
“With the extended lifetimes the suits allow us,” the Lapautee said, trying to feed her the official line of slug crap, “if we didn’t limit our population, we would overrun our resources.”
“So why don’t you expand your resources instead of sacrificing future generations?” she countered, her anger so great she barely knew what the krek she was saying.
“I don’t set policy.” He offered her a circlet of flowers. “Put this on your head, and all will know of your sacrifice and treat you with respect.”
She knocked aside his hand, and the ringlet fell to the g
round. “I’m not from Lapau, and I have no intention of making this sacrifice. I intend to be gone in a week.”
“While you’re here, you must obey our laws.”
“No.” If he expected her to cry or cringe or beg, he would learn differently. She remembered much of the self-defense classes she’d taken in school. With her adrenaline surging, she figured she’d have extra strength.
Surprise was an advantage. She lunged straight at him, jabbing with a fist. Shocked, he moved slowly, and she struck his mouth with her knuckles. His lips split, and bluish blood streamed out. Then the two of them slammed into each other, stumbled to the hallway floor, and rolled. Fear surging, she came to her feet first and caught a second opponent with a straight-edged hammer blow to the neck and jammed a foot at another’s knee. He howled with pain and hopped awkwardly on one foot, clutching his injury. But she had no time to finish him as a pair of strong hands grabbed her arms from behind. Still, she kneed a third man’s crotch and almost broke free.
The door behind her opened, and Shannon threw her gangly body into the fray. What was she doing? Shannon was sick. She was supposed to have run away with Cyn. While Alara appreciated the help, the fight was by no means even. Six strong men against two women—one of them elderly and ill.
“You want my ovaries, you sick bastards,” Shannon spat, catching one man with an elbow strike to his nose, “you’ll have to beat it out of my unconscious body.”
12
“SIX OFFICIALS TOOK Alara and Shannon,” Cyn informed Xander between gasps. Sweat pouring off her skin, her chest heaving as she sucked in air, she stumbled into their already crowded room, looking as if she’d sprinted to their building and then raced up seven flights of stairs. “Alara single-handedly attempted to fight—”
“Alara was fighting?” Xander’s jaw dropped open. He recalled her supple golden skin, her unmarred perfect flesh, and couldn’t envision her in a fight. Xander had known women warriors. Tessa was first-rate and had defeated him on several occasions; even Cyn could throw a mean fist under duress. But the idea of Alara fighting with anything but her brilliant mind rocked him.
His reaction wasn’t personal. He told himself he worried about Alara so much because, unlike his crew, she hadn’t volunteered for this mission. He told himself his concern spiked off the charts because if anything happened to Alara, Kirek’s hostage situation could go critical. He told himself he had very good reasons to be anxious.
“Alara delayed them long enough for me to escape. When the officials began to win, Shannon joined the fray, and I escaped out the back.”
Xander had always admired the Terran’s spirit, but he wished she hadn’t sacrificed herself. With her failing health, she should have saved her strength. There was no certainty her weakened body could recover from injuries she might suffer in a fight.
“Why did they want them?” Xander asked, furious that the Lapautee had interfered with his mission and, worse, taken the women. He prayed they weren’t hurt, or if they were, that the Lapautee would see they received medical care.
“The Lapautee collect the ova from any female who sets foot on their world to send to the Saj—it’s part of their stupid treaty for the suits.”
Vax swore. Cyn drew in more air and spoke quickly. “If we don’t find them soon, they’ll never have children.”
Shannon already had all the children she wanted. She had kids and grandkids and great-grandkids. Xander doubted she could have more children at her age—but he still worried about her surviving the alien procedure in her frail state.
It was logical that his concern for Alara was even greater. She was young, healthy, in perfect physical health—if he discounted the beginnings of the plague. Besides, he’d forced Alara to accompany them. That she was in danger because of his actions made him more determined to save her.
“Contact Lithdar,” Xander ordered Cyn. “See if he’ll help us.”
“I’m on it.” Cyn turned to the room’s com, then spun on her heel to face him.
“Vax, you’re with me.” Xander headed for the door.
“Wait.” Cyn hurried across the room to hand him a few pellets that Alara had left behind. “Use these to contact me. If Lithdar will help, I need a way to tell you. Put them in the public machines to pay for access, and we can communicate through their system.”
Until this moment the alien had been silent. Xander wasn’t sure if he could follow the conversation. “Clarie go. Clarie help.”
“Thanks, but you’ll slow us down.” Xander hurried out the door.
Every moment was critical. If they could reach the women before the officials locked them up inside a building, the rescue would likely be easier. Six men had taken the women, and although he and Vax were outnumbered three to one, a Rystani warrior in full battle mode could surely take out these weak-bellied blue-skinned Lapautee.
Running with full muscle power, Xander counted on Vax to keep up. Their suits, which allowed them to move and fight at the quickness of thought, were good for only short bursts. Saving the speed for later when it might be necessary for a fight might be a mistake—but he’d made the call, and Vax didn’t question his tactic.
Feet slapping the pavement, they raced past startled Lapautee. Most gave them a wide berth, and no one tried to stop them.
Still breathing easily, Xander and Vax reached the building where the women had been housed. The high-rise covered a city block and had several exits and entrances but he saw no sign of them at the front. Not good. He and Vax jumped onto a lift and rode it to the tenth floor.
The moment the lift’s doors opened, Xander knew the women were gone. The door to their quarters tilted, one hinge busted. Spatters of red blood against one pale beige wall told him it was likely that either Shannon or Alara was injured.
Vax stepped into the room. “They’re gone.”
“Get Cyn on the com.” Xander’s heart pounded—more from despair than the run. He feared he might never find the women. “See if she’s contacted Lithdar.”
They’d been speaking loudly, and several doors opened. People stared through the cracks, but after noting the offworlders’ scowls, they slammed them shut. Like people everywhere, when trouble came they didn’t want to become involved.
Xander waited, and when the next curious Lapautee opened a door, he used his psi to move fast, wedged his foot in the crack, and shoved his way inside. Two young women with tears in their eyes trembled as if he were about to strike them.
Keeping his voice gentle was an effort, but he tried. “Where did they take them?”
“The PPC.”
“What’s that?”
“The Procreation Prevention Center.”
“Tell me how to get there.”
“It won’t do you any good.” The younger woman trembled and pointed. “The facility is as big as Arc Six.”
“Show me. Please.”
Either they’d decided to help due to the desperation in his tone, or they figured he wouldn’t leave until they did as he requested. They pulled up a map on a vidscreen. He stared at the huge facility and realized they’d have no difficulty finding it—however, entering the city-block complex and then locating the women was another matter.
“Thanks.” He was about to return to Vax, when he skidded to a stop and asked the two girls, “When they take their ovaries, do they kill them?”
“Only if they fight. Why did they fight?” The girl’s tone was accusatory, and she sniffled, wiping her tears on the back of her wrist.
Xander didn’t answer her question. He met Vax back in the damaged hallway, and one look at his face told him the news from Lithdar was bad. “He wouldn’t take Cyn’s call.”
The lift opened. Vax and Xander moved to either side, ready to attack in case the officials had returned. But Clarie, with Delo holding on to his antennae, shuffled out. “We
go rescue.”
Xander had no idea how Clarie had found them. Or how he’d followed so quickly. But he agreed with his sentiment. “Yes, we go rescue the women.”
“WE NEED TO figure a way out of here because the captain is never going to find us,” Shannon muttered.
Alara had to agree. The complex was huge, and even if Xander learned where they were, pinpointing them inside this building would be impossible. As the officials had dragged them inside, she’d seen few guards and no cameras. But the facility had mazelike corridors that twisted and turned back on themselves for no apparent reason. They’d passed lots of weeping women and others who stared straight ahead with hollow eyes, their hands cradling their stomachs as if they ached inside for what had been stolen from them.
Eventually, the officials had thrown Alara and Shannon into a holding area. With a locked door and bars across the front where the guard could watch them, they had no privacy.
“How’s your head?” Shannon asked.
“Hurts like Dregan hell,” Alara admitted, hoping that if she complained, the Terran might feel enough at ease to talk about her own failing health. “But I think the bleeding’s stopped.”
“Sorry I didn’t get there sooner.”
“You shouldn’t have come at all. You’re sick.”
“And let you have all the fun?” Shannon muttered, saying nothing about her illness—but she didn’t deny it, either. She stuck out her tongue at the guard, who paid no attention, but had to be listening.
Alara invoked privacy mode on her suit so the guard couldn’t hear their conversation. “If I can get us out of this cell, can you recall the way back?”
“The body may be failing, but my mind’s still sharp.” Shannon kept her back to the guard so he couldn’t see her lips move. “How are you going to get us out?”
Alara didn’t miss the fact that Shannon hadn’t directly answered her question—but it was the first time she’d actually admitted to the disease. Unless the woman had a photographic memory, no way would she recall their route. But Alara said no more about it. When Alara had been hurt, her head slamming into the wall, Shannon had thrown herself into the fight. Instead of escaping with Cyn, she’d won Alara’s gratitude, but unfortunately now she was caught, as well.
The Ultimatum Page 17