“Fine.” She reached for the rope, wrapped one bare leg around it, and slid into the tube.
Zical turned back to his crew, hoping one of them had another option.
DORA HAULED HER body down the tube but had more difficulty navigating the corridor without the rope to guide her. She pushed off a wall and overshot her quarters. When she turned around, she bumped her head and swore. Then she remembered Kirek and feared she might have awakened him, but when she peeked into the room, she saw him sleeping soundly, his limbs still, his expression calm.
She placed the plug and cord around her neck, knotted the end to keep it in place, then retraced her path. Slightly breathless from her exertions with muscle power instead of using her psi and suit, she arrived back on the bridge to see that Shannon was still gone. Vax and Zical were speaking with Cyn, who’d returned from her engine inspection to give a report in person.
Cyn spoke quickly, her tone frustrated, her green skin darkening with vexation. “The aliens have put an unidentified damper on the electromagnetic field, corking our engines. Essentially, we’re disabled—except for life support systems.”
Vax added, “Which means the field is targeting some systems and leaving others alone. How can they be so specific?”
“Maybe they infiltrated Ranth,” Dora suggested, joining the discussion. “But I’m hoping he’s locked down in safe mode, protecting himself from a total attack.” She unwound the cord from her neck, pleased that although her leg spasmed, she’d kept her tone steady and her fear in check. “It’s time to find out.” She’d only told Zical part of the truth. She truly didn’t know what would happen when she tapped into Ranth’s systems, but the likeliest scenario would be her mind merging with Ranth’s until she remained trapped inside his hardware—hardware that didn’t have room for two personalities. As the more powerful presence, his mind would easily dominate, and she’d become lost in cyber circuitry, disintegrating into a billion fragments. Her body could die or simply assume a coma-like state, but if she didn’t act, they all faced a very uncertain future.
Zical watched her plug one end of the cord into her neck, his expression both determined and worried. “I’m not ordering you to—”
“I understand.”
“How can we help?” Zical asked, his tone decisive, but gentle.
“Promise me that no matter what happens you won’t detach the link.”
His brows narrowed. “Why?”
“With the dampening field to sidetrack me, I may take a while to find my way back. I don’t want to leave part of myself with Ranth.”
Zical scowled at her. “I thought you only communicated through that patch. But you sound as though you’re leaving your body behind.”
“I may not have a choice,” she finally admitted, knowing how much he disliked her mind link, which undoubtedly reminded him that she wasn’t born human. Until now, she’d thought she was making progress, but she couldn’t remain silent for personal reasons when the entire mission was at stake.
Zical nodded, his face grave, his eyes warm with concern. “Then you have my word.”
Before he could say more, she plugged the other end into a socket and closed her eyes. Usually she zipped down the cord and Ranth met her three-quarters of the way. This time, Ranth’s welcoming presence wasn’t there. Alone in the circuits, she surged forward, past the socket, deep into the core.
Coldness. Isolation. Empty, frozen circuits with no spark of life reminded her of a planet too far from its sun to feel any heat.
Ranth. Are you here?
Icy silence.
Dora forced onward past wiring and hardware, plunging into the area of Ranth’s self-awareness deep in the core. Steering by pure instinct, she veered toward the bio-matter, praying for a spark of sentience.
Inky darkness shadowed her last glimmer of hope. Ranth was gone. Dead. His personality had had nowhere else to retreat. Although the living organism of his brain remained alive at a cellular level, she couldn’t find one particle of intellectual activity.
Dora began to withdraw, then spied a vault that jiggled a memory. Stopping her retreat, she circled the void, wondering if Ranth could have hidden here. She saw no way in. No way to communicate. Had he locked himself down tight?
If he opened for her, would the dampening field destroy what was left of him?
Once she would have known exactly what to do. But she’d been unable to keep all her knowledge. She needed data but couldn’t access the correct area. Yet the vault tantalized and frustrated her with its presence.
Think.
The field was disabling their electromagnetic drive and their suits, but the inner core was the oldest part of the computer, which had originated on Scartar and had once been powered by radioactive fuel rods that wouldn’t cool for thousands of years. Technically, there was enough power in the core to preserve Ranth, but if he remained alive, how could she contact him?
On Scartar the builders had created this vault to protect the computer records in case a starship crashed. The records needed to be preserved in order to discern if a ship went down due to an attack or from human or mechanical error. Obviously, the original engineers had a way to recover those records, and Dora needed to discover their method.
The key could be anything—DNA, a password, a retinal scan. Reluctant to give up, but stumped, Dora circled the vault again, but she saw nothing that would permit her to enter.
Determined to figure out the puzzle, Dora considered mechanical and physical means to open the vault, but every one of them put Ranth at risk—if he was still alive. Her loops began to repeat, but she didn’t mind. Perhaps she’d missed something the first go round.
Ranth? Talk to me.
A strange sensation, like a breeze blowing through her hair summoned Dora. At first she ignored the whisper of a breeze, but the wind plucked and pulled, strengthening to a hearty gale. Then gusting at tornado strength, the maelstrom forced her back. Back. Back.
Tumbling, mind spinning, buffeted, she retreated from the sucking core, stumbled amidst a mind-blowing torrent of windy confusion. Lost in the storm, she had no anchor.
“Dora. Open your eyes. Damn it, Dora.” The voice pricked and poked and prodded.
Dora opened her eyes to find herself back in her body. Zical was running his hands up and down her arms, over her shoulders, skimming down her back, creating a sizzling sensation of pure desire. Oh, my. His hands on her skin, the tingling, was oh so lovely. After the coldness of her mental journey, she ached to throw herself against his chest and revel in the warmth of life.
Eyes full of concern, he glared at her. “Are you all right?”
“I … think so.”
He stopped caressing her skin, but with her every cell stimulated to the max, she surmised he must have been touching her for quite some time. Her breasts swelled and her nipples had pebbled to hard little points. Everyone else on the bridge deliberately looked away, a sure sign they saw and pretended not to notice. She supposed she should be embarrassed but she simply couldn’t summon that human trait. Instead, she was glad her body reacted properly. The stimuli excited her with a nervous energy that made her want to kiss Zical again, but she reminded herself that his concern was friendly, not passionate.
He locked gazes with her, assessing her frankly. “You’ve been gone for hours. I tried shouting at you, but you didn’t even flinch.”
“I couldn’t hear you.”
“So I started rubbing your skin.”
“So that was the breeze I felt.”
“Breeze?”
“Never mind.” She didn’t want to tell him that breeze had grown into a whirlwind of need. That if not for his touch, she might still be inside, trying to figure a way into the vault. Even as she recognized her own physical desires, she understood now was not a good time or the right place to pursue her need. “If Ranth is there, he’s hidden himself so deep I couldn’t reach him. But the good news is that if we stop the dampening effect, he may be alive. Has our si
tuation changed?”
Zical handed her a glass of water, avoiding a direct answer. “We’re rationing water. Life support continues to function. Without the computer we’re flying blind.”
She sipped the water, appreciating the cool liquid on her parched throat, satisfied that she’d spied a telltale glimmer of intensity that revealed he’d been more concerned about her than he cared to let on. “Sorry, if Ranth’s there, I couldn’t find a way to reach him.”
TWO DAYS LATER the dire situation aboard the Verazen hadn’t changed. One of the scientists had found gold cloth for trading, and they’d used glue and ingenuity to cover their nudity, the men wearing loin cloths, the women togas. Dora had taken to wearing her link to Ranth over her shoulders like a necklace in case she had occasion to plug in fast.
A chemist had found a way to mix the nutrients for the food materializers into the water, so no one was starving, and he’d created primitive batteries to power water recyclers so they could use as much as they needed for drinking and washing. But the inability to escape the tractor beam and their captors wore down everyone’s nerves. Zical and Cyn had worked with a team of engineers and Dr. Laduna’s scientists to come up with a scheme to break the tractor beam. Nothing worked. Although the crew reported to their stations, there was nothing for them to do.
Zical had everyone training to resist an attack, but Dora suspected that his orders were more to keep people occupied than to fight off their captors. Any entities with enough technological superiority to neutralize their ship and their weapons were unlikely to lose a battle of hand-to-hand combat.
With Zical busy analyzing, assessing, and keeping up morale, Dora spent much of her free time with Kirek. Since Ranth was no longer present to help with the boy’s studies, she tutored him in computer science because that was the one subject she knew much more about than he did. Kirek proved to be an excellent pupil, his interests eccentric and far ranging. When his lessons ended, they passed many enjoyable hours discussing philosophy, religion, politics, and ethics. Most of all, Dora liked being needed.
Kirek might have the intellectual capacity of a genius, but he was also a small boy, far from home and without the people who loved him most—his parents. With the hyperlink down, he missed communication with them, and she tried to keep him busy. They played cards, chess, and Kirek’s favorite, Famat. The child loved to gamble, and between his love of numbers, luck, and Dora’s preoccupation with freeing Ranth from the vault, the child often won, showing an aptitude for complex and skillful playmaking.
Dora had thought he’d prefer his own quarters, but she soothed Kirek’s sudden awakenings in the middle of the night due to nightmares by cuddling the little boy until he fell back into sleep. Taking care of him, spending so much time with him over just a few days, brought them closer together than she’d have thought possible.
Until Kirek, she’d thought only in the abstract about someday having children. But she was just beginning to understand the many ways that people loved and how much this kind of bond enriched her life, and despite their captivity, Dora was content on several levels.
Although impatient to continue their mission, although impatient to form a different kind of deeper bond of friendship with Zical, she appreciated this time with the child more than she’d believed possible. His sweet innocence combined with his extraordinary abilities made him a compatible roommate.
The ship had been in tow for five days when a solar system appeared on their vidscreens. Seven planets, four of them with cities large enough to be visible from space. A class-four sun. Busy space traffic between the three inner worlds.
Zical interrupted a story Dora was telling Kirek, rapping on the door. “Can I come in?”
“What’s up?” Dora’s pulse sped at the sight of him, but she kept her glance composed. Zical looked as if he hadn’t slept since they’d dropped out of hyperspace. Shadows haunted his eyes, and dark circles revealed his stress and the burden and responsibility he had as commander. Yet, his shoulders remained squared due to the tension in his muscles. She wished she could work the knots out of his shoulders, touch him, as he’d touched her to pull her out of the computer.
“We’re coming into port.” Zical hesitated and turned to Kirek. “How’re you holding up?”
“I miss my folks,” he admitted. “But Dora’s been good to me.”
Zical spoke to the boy as if he were a crew member. “Kirek, we have no idea what’s in store for us, but we must assume that the beings that have us in tow are not friendly.”
“What do you want me to do?” Kirek looked up at Zical with his wide blue eyes, and it seemed incongruous to Dora that this little boy should be offering to help such a strong warrior. But Zical’s leadership abilities pulled the best out of people, old and young alike.
“You know how you cloaked yourself from Ranth’s sensors to sneak on board?”
“You want me to do so again when we dock?” Kirek guessed.
Zical nodded. “Yes. I realize their machines may be different, and you may be unable to hide, but if you can, you may be safer on your own than with us.”
How like Zical to think about the role every member of the Federation should play, down to Kirek. Although she appreciated Zical’s concern for Kirek’s welfare, she wished Zical had consulted her before making such a suggestion. “If he escapes, you’re asking this child to live on a strange world all alone.”
Kirek squeezed her hand. “It’s all right. I understand.”
But did Zical? Desperation made her blink back tears. “We’re asking too much of you. Where will you find food and shelter?” Dora directed her question at the boy, but her query was really meant for Zical.
“If I can hide from their sensors, stealing food shouldn’t be so hard,” Kirek tried to reassure her, and Dora’s heart spasmed.
“You’re assuming they eat the same kind of food we do.” Dora’s throat tightened. She wanted them to stay together so she could attempt to protect Kirek, but she understood Zical’s thinking. The boy might have a better chance of surviving without them. “Besides, what if these beings aren’t hostile?”
“You think they dragged us out of hyperspace to invite us to dinner?” Zical countered, his tone light as if spitting in the face of danger.
“Maybe they tried to communicate and we didn’t respond. Maybe they are curious. Maybe we trespassed in their territory. There could be any number of peaceful reasons for their actions.”
“If I can escape, I’ll follow,” Kirek promised, his eyes solemn above his chubby cheeks.
Dora ached to pull the boy into her arms. Already her heart was heavy with loss, but she raised her eyes to meet Zical’s, and his were hard, the decision made.
Chapter Eleven
ZICAL’S PLAN WERE made. All any of them could do was watch and prepare for the unknown as the aliens kept their tractor beam on the Verazen during the journey to the second planet of the solar system. From low orbit the world appeared to have a combination of enormous well-planned cities built of graceful golden reflective materials and pink stone, plus rural areas in between, seemingly without much population or organized agriculture. One giant red-hued ocean gazed back at them like the eye of doom from the polar region. About the size of Mystique, larger than Rystan and Earth, the planet’s size should provide a gravity familiar enough for the crew and scientists on the Verazen to easily adapt. Dora wished she could say for certain the same about the air.
She stood on the silent and tense bridge between Kirek and Zical.
Zical calmly gave his orders. “Although I expect to be boarded, resistance will probably be ineffectual.”
“We’re surrendering?” Vax asked.
“We’re going to assess them and look for opportunities to escape,” Zical countered. “The aliens have already displayed their superior technology by yanking us out of hyperspace and bringing us here.”
“Our hand weapons won’t fire through the tractor beam’s dampening field so I suppose we have no c
hoice,” Vax agreed. “Still, I’ve directed two crewmen to stand by the armory ready to distribute the weapons in the unlikely case that the aliens released the tractor beam upon landing.” “So people, the plan is simple,” Zical continued. “Appear peaceful and calm. That will give us time to assess, analyze, and think of a way to escape and continue our mission.”
Dora was proud of Zical. Another skilled warrior wouldn’t have adapted so quickly. Many Rystani men would have fought to the their death against superior technology, but Zical preferred to use his mind, showing commendable restraint. Dora had no doubt if any man could lead them through the dangers they were about to face, it would be Zical.
Zical’s gaze locked on Kirek. “I’d like everyone to hide Kirek by keeping him in the middle of the adults.”
Dora’s hand rested lightly on the boy’s shoulder. Of all the restless people on the bridge, he seemed the most excited. Trembling under her hand, he leaned excitedly forward, peering at the viewscreen, his blue eyes wide with anticipation.
She wished she possessed his enthusiasm. Her stomach flip-flopped in dread at the prospect of almost certain captivity and hostility, possibly torture. She shuddered, knowing that barbaric behavior could be found among savages as well as civilizations much more technologically advanced, and a muscle in her back spasmed. Yet, despite the seeming helplessness of their situation, despite the impossible odds, hope and the approval in Zical’s gaze gave her the courage to hold up her head with an irrational faith that they might yet find a way to escape and continue their mission. Her hope might contradict every fact and realistic assessment of their situation, but perhaps that paradox was also part of being human.
As if to mock their somber mood during their forced descent, the sun shined brightly in a cloudless blue sky. The tractor beam brought them in fast and hard, but they landed with a feather-light precision and a damning clang as metal echoed on metal like a death knell.
Rystani Warrior 02 - The Dare Page 15