Might be. But probably wasn’t. She’d persevere. She’d find a way to achieve her goals. With Shannon as an example, Alara hoped she could be as brave, as adaptable and resourceful and strong. Perhaps she too could make a home among the stars. Perhaps she even belonged here.
Sex with Xander had made her realize she could deal with Boktai without Endekian men—they weren’t the only males in the universe. Who would have thought that she’d come to admire a Rystani? While her need for regeneration might be influencing her thought patterns, she couldn’t deny that when she thought about mating with Xander again, her heart skipped and her tummy tightened.
Although her body had reacted to the male guard, it was Xander she wanted to kiss. Xander she wanted to touch. Xander she wanted as she’d wanted no other man.
13
XANDER, VAX, and Clarie found Arc Six and the Procreation Prevention Center without difficulty. Arc Six was the PPC. The structure was larger than some cities. While they’d spotted many women arriving and departing through one main entrance, after several hours of surveillance, they’d seen no men entering the complex. Either the officials who’d taken his crew had used a side entrance or a back door Xander had yet to find, or not many males had access, creating a tactical and strategical problem.
Even if Xander and Vax could alter their skin color from bronze to blue-tinged, it was impossible for them to disguise themselves as Lapautee. They were too large, too broad. Without knowing the women’s exact location within the complex, they would be foolhardy to attempt to enter the building.
Yet Xander refused to abandon Shannon and Alara.
“Options?” he asked Vax as they reconnoitered on a park bench opposite the complex. Around them couples strolled, vendors sold drinks, and the tangy aroma of hot meat pies made him recall octar meat and jarballa sauce, Kahn’s favorite meal. Thoughts of Kahn quickly turned to Tessa and her failing health as well as the failing health of everyone back home—and here. How was Shannon holding up after the fight?
Pressure built on Xander’s shoulders at this delay. Were his loyalty to Shannon and his personal connection to Alara risking the entire mission? He had no idea how much time he had, or if he could trust Lithdar. It bothered him that the official wasn’t taking their calls, but his reason could be anything from a full-blown betrayal to simply that he had another meeting or had gone home for the day. Cyn was trying to find him. But until Xander had more choices and Lithdar finalized their arrangements to go down to the Saj planet, Xander would use every moment to find Alara and Shannon.
Vax might appear relaxed on the bench, but the warrior in him never ceased perusing his surroundings. His gaze constantly assessed the danger from the passing street traffic, the approaching vehicles, and even above for skimmer activity. “We will tap into their computer system.”
“What good will that do when we can’t read the language? Our systems are voice-activated, but theirs aren’t,” Xander reminded him.
“We question the departing women,” Vax suggested.
Clarie remained silent. He petted Delo and paced, almost as if he were nervous.
“If we question them, they could report us to their authorities and stop us from entering the building,” Xander thought aloud. If he had to shoot down Vax’s suggestion, he owed him a reason. “With the size of that complex, the likelihood of any female having seen Shannon and Alara and remembering where they saw them is slim.”
“We could try forcing Lithdar to help us.” Vax gave him a third option, but Xander knew he hadn’t mentioned the Lapautee official until now because there was no guarantee they could find him, and even if they did, he might not be able to help—even if coerced.
“Must rescue them.” Clarie stopped pacing in front of them. Although his facial expression didn’t change, Xander thought he glimpsed impatience flashing in his black eyes.
Xander wished he’d stop telling him what he already knew and zap him into the building. But Clarie never did the expected. The being appeared to have no physical strength, poor communication skills, and contributed no ideas. He and his pet wandered off, exploring as if this place were a tourist attraction.
Yet, he shouldn’t be quick to judge. Clarie may have brought them halfway across the galaxy by means he couldn’t explain. Although the alien seemed childish to him, perhaps he was so sophisticated that he was talking down to them.
Still, Xander didn’t need another puzzle or responsibility right now. “How do we find them?”
“Get them out,” Clarie responded.
Xander tried to explain. “If we go in there without knowing where—”
“No.” Clarie swiveled his head from side to side. “Don’t look outward. Look inward.”
Clarie’s words stabbed Xander like a hunting knife to the heart.
Surely he couldn’t be suggesting . . .
He couldn’t possibly know . . .
Xander stared at Clarie in shock, the hair on his neck tingling. “Look inward? What do you mean?”
“Can’t find what you seek by looking out, so look inside.”
“But if we go inside,” Vax protested, “we won’t know where to—”
“I know what he means.” Xander stared at Clarie, his stomach churning. How had the alien known about the incident that he’d never shared with anyone—not even with his father? How did the alien know of his shame? His act of cowardice under torture and then again on the bridge when he’d hesitated to rescue Clarie?
For Clarie to suggest that he . . . no. He’d sworn to himself that he would never again think about his lapse, that he’d been hallucinating due to his pain and upset. But that was an excuse—to comfort him from the nightmares that made him awaken in a sweat, a scream lodged in his throat.
Vax stared at Xander, his gaze curious. “What?”
Even saying the words made acid churn in his gut. But he was more afraid for Alara than he was about admitting his own shame. Whatever he must do to keep her safe, he must do—even if it meant admitting to cowardice. “There might be a way for me to explore that building without physically going inside.”
“I don’t understand.” Vax held his gaze, but withheld judgment. “But whatever must be done, you can count on my help. And my discretion.”
Throat tight, Xander nodded. “Let’s find somewhere more private.”
“There’s a closed retail establishment a block to the left,” Vax suggested.
Xander shook his head, honored to have such a steady friend. “I require a location as close to the complex as possible.”
With quiet curiosity, Vax jerked his thumb to a building painted the same color as the larger complex behind it. “There’s what appears to be a shed of some kind right up against the main building.”
“That might work.” Mouth dry, Xander didn’t waste time and began to explain. “I’ll need you to restrain and beat me.”
Vax gave him an I-don’t-like-that-idea scowl. “Why?”
Xander’s tone was tight, hard, but the words must be said. “When the pain turns extreme, I lose courage.”
“Captain, you withstood Endekian torture when you were no more than a boy. No one doubts your courage.”
“You don’t understand. I cracked under the torture.”
“You did not. You did not reveal the information they sought.”
“I ran like a coward.”
Confusion clouded Vax’s eyes. “How could you run? They tied you down. I don’t understand.”
“My experience is going to sound . . . odd.”
“I’m listening.”
“The pain did something to me. And—”
“And?”
“My mind . . . snapped.”
Vax frowned. “What do you mean, you snapped? You lost consciousness? You went crazy?”
“My being,
my consciousness, levitated out of my body. I didn’t have eyes, but I could see the Endekian flipping the switch that shocked my physical body while my mind floated near the ceiling. I saw my body twitch. My mouth scream. But I no longer felt pain, and my mind was no longer inside my bones and flesh. I could move through the building’s walls, and during that time, I scouted the enemy camp. I saw Tessa sneak past the Endekian scouts. Only when she was about to rescue me did I force my mind to return to my body.”
Vax blinked, taking in what Xander had said. Xander expected disbelief and shock, but saw only empathy in his expression. Clearly deeply affected, Vax spoke thoughtfully. “Captain, what happened to you was no loss of courage. Your experience sounds similar to what we do in a healing circle. Only you took the out-of-body experience one step further.”
Xander shook his head. “A warrior would not have fled.”
“A warrior finds a way to survive and to win,” Vax countered. “Now you’re asking me to cause you great pain to save Shannon and Alara. There is nothing shameful in your past—only great courage. You still think upon your torture with the eyes of a boy instead of the maturity of a man.”
Stunned by Vax’s words, Xander stopped walking. One reason he appreciated his first officer’s opinions was that he never lied. Xander also respected Vax’s judgment—even when they disagreed. Could Vax be right? Could the pain and the fear of breaking under torture when he’d been young have so confused him that even now he couldn’t think clearly about the incident?
He’d been frightened that the pain would be too much to bear—that he’d reveal where his people were hiding, and that he’d stain his soul with the responsibility of their deaths. He’d been determined to remain silent, and his screams had shamed him. In his mind, he should have been able to withstand whatever they’d done—so when he’d snapped, when he’d left his body behind, he’d assumed he’d acted with cowardice.
Perhaps he had been looking at the incident through the eyes of a half-grown kid. He’d been too ashamed to tell anyone. For years he’d tried to forget. Then he’d snapped once again on the bridge—but then, no pain had been involved. No fear—only the stress of attempting to make a grave decision. But perhaps leaving his body had been a way to seek out Clarie before the clutch beam had drawn the alien into his ship.
There was nothing wrong with exploration, using all his senses—especially if he could find Alara and Shannon.
Vax had seen what he could not, and a huge heaviness lifted from his heart. “Thank you, my friend.” Xander slapped Vax on the shoulder. “Your words will make repeating the experience less painful—at least in my mind.”
“I have been thinking about that, also. Perhaps pain isn’t necessary to repeat what happened.”
Xander considered the suggestion, but with no other trigger, how could he do what he must? “Pain is necessary, even in the healing circle when we take on the ills of the sick one, and also during the birth of a child when we take on the mother’s pain.”
“But we don’t physically injure our bodies. We accept their mental pain.”
“You want me to induce mental pain without experiencing the physical pain?” Xander turned the idea over in his mind, wondering if Vax was right. During his lifetime, the out-of-body experience had occurred twice. His mental anxiety on the bridge had caused the same reaction as the physical torture. But he could see no way to invoke such mental pain once again.
“What about inducing a trance with hypnosis?” Vax suggested as they proceeded to the shed’s door.
“If Ranth were here, he might know how, but since neither of us is an expert—”
“Clarie expert.”
Xander had almost forgotten the alien was still with them, but Clarie had trailed after them, silent as a shadow. The little guy didn’t speak much, but Xander was beginning to realize that Clarie understood more than he let on and was more advanced than he appeared.
“You can help me achieve the mental state required?” Xander let Vax pick the lock on the shed while he focused on Clarie.
“Yes. Clarie help.”
INTERFERENCE IS unacceptable.
Back off.
Mutation and adaptation must proceed from a natural cause of progression. To allow them to live we must see meritorious improvement and adaptation.
We will.
Instigating action will nullify all the results.
Why?
You cannot break the rules.
What is the difference between stirring a little stardust to create a universe and helping a species survive by forcing evolution to the next stage?
Even if you succeed, you will have failed.
Only if we employ your narrow-minded definition of success.
Did you just resort to insulting me?
I merely pointed out the fact of your unwillingness to see beyond what has always been.
You’re going too far.
I will not accept less than success. That is the difference here.
Exactly. You will go to any lengths to prove your point.
Now you’ve finally got it.
Unacceptable. Unsatisfactory. Unsuitable.
Go away. I’m busy.
You’re cheating.
That’s absurd. There is more than one way to accomplish a task.
We should let them all die, now. It would be kinder. They simply are not up to the mission before them.
We don’t know that yet. Let the forces set in motion do their job. Let me work.
Your machinations will come to naught because your methods are faulty.
So you’ve already said. Go away.
I am here to observe. As much as I would prefer to be elsewhere, my task is to monitor.
Then monitor in silence.
KIREK SCANNED THE secret file and read quickly. Any moment the guards would burst into the room and discover him. His heart pounded, sweat wept from his pores, and his muscles twitched with the need to flee and save himself. But he read with fascination. For over three decades, the Endekians had meticulously planned their invasion of his childhood homeworld of Rystan because they wanted the glow stones.
The Endekians had spent a fortune to discover how to replicate an artificial geomagnetic field that balanced the glow stones’ atomic activity when they removed them from Rystan. Since the invasion, they’d harvested the stones, mining deep into Rystan to obtain and transport them to Endeki.
But why?
Sure, the glow stones could be used as atomic weapons of massive destruction. However, the Endekians had access to much more sophisticated weapons. While the glow stones were unique in nature, they were also primitive compared to what the Endekians could manufacture for less cost and a lot less effort.
As the soldiers burst into the room, weapons aimed at him, Kirek still didn’t have the entire picture. He’d needed more time to access other files—time he didn’t have.
“Don’t move,” a soldier ordered.
With a nonthreatening tap of his finger, Kirek erased the vidscreen image and placed a frightened look on his face. “Don’t tell Lataka you found me. Please. I needed a rest. The woman’s insatiable.”
The soldiers took him to a bleak interrogation room. All around Kirek machines hummed, and sensors measured his physical reactions. He knew the next hours wouldn’t be pleasant. Although he didn’t believe they would kill him, he couldn’t be certain. The coming interrogation would be tricky. These men didn’t know he could manipulate the machines that monitored him, and he appeared to be a boy, not a full-grown man. Yet they’d caught him someplace he shouldn’t have been, someplace with information he wasn’t supposed to have seen.
However, when Drik strode into the room with four guards, Kirek realized that he’d discovered something extremely important. But what?
With no warning, the guard smacked him across the face. “How did you unlock that office door?”
Kirek shrugged, let his eyes tear from the sting, hoping his immature reaction would remind them of his youth. He wanted them to see fright through an attempt to appear courageous—not so difficult to feign in light of his circumstances. “I tried every door in the corridor. That one was unlocked.”
The guard raised his hand for another blow. Kirek pretended he had no fighting skills, that he didn’t know how to avoid the coming blow. The guard shouted in his face. “So it was an accident that you picked that room?”
Kirek pulled back and let them see him tremble. “The doors all looked the same. How could I know you’d have a computer in there until I went inside?”
The guard slapped his other cheek, and his head slammed to one side. “What were you doing?”
“Hiding from Lataka.” Kirek let tears rain down his cheeks, pleased with his performance. The weaker they thought him, the easier it would be to convince them he told the truth. “The woman is insatiable. I required . . . a rest.”
“Sir,” said one of the guards to Drik. “According to our truth detectors, he does not lie.”
Kirek could make his body invisible to the machines. Although he’d never fine-tuned his skill before, he made a slight adjustment, altering his elevated heart rate and higher body temperature and breathing rates to appear steady.
“What were you doing behind the desk?” the inquisitor demanded.
Kirek had to be careful. He suspected they could go into the computer system and discover he’d logged on. If they caught him in a lie, they’d realize he could fool their truth detector. While he couldn’t hide his log-on, he hoped they’d never learn which file he’d read.
Admitting the part of the truth they could check, he hoped his computer skills had covered the rest. “I logged on to the computer.”
“Why?” The guard smacked him again, and his ears rang.
He cowered, hoping to appear sheepish and contrite. “I missed the vidgames on Mystique.”
The Ultimatum Page 19