Jolting back to the here and now, Chase quashed the memory. Time to focus on the matter at hand. So Moriah had provided this lead on Dansan. At least he knew the report was legitimate, and that he could trust this contact. He raised his visor and leaned toward Kant.
"Yes, I'm interested in Dansan."
Kant lifted his hood onto his head and again hunched over his drink. "She's on Odera to find new recruits. Word has it some of her soldiers were put out of action on Calt."
Temporarily, anyway. Chase didn't use the kill setting on his weapons, choosing instead the medium stun level, which inflicted only surface wounds. He left the killing to the more sophisticated methods of the Controllers. They had execution down to a fine art.
Kant's statement made sense. Dansan liked to persuade susceptible Anteks to desert rank and work for her, offering unlimited looting as incentive. Chase figured she must have some method of counteracting the standard Controller mind indoctrination, or she wouldn't be so successful at luring the Anteks away.
She seemed to take perverse pleasure in doing it right beneath the Controllers' noses, and he couldn't understand why they offered no bounty on her. Only on the hapless creatures she recruited. Once an Antek had defected, his fate was sealed, because he could never return to the Controllers without facing the death penalty.
"Where is she right now?"
"In the barracks at the north end of the compound."
Her audacity amazed Chase. He placed a pouch of miterons on the table.
Again a slender hand snaked out, slipping the pouch beneath the table. "She's a bold one, isn't she? But most of the troops are at the midday meal. The only soldiers at the barracks are those being disciplined. Dansan will find willing defectors there. One more thing—she's dressed like I am."
A Shen tunic would be a good disguise, especially with the Shen presence on the base. "Thank you, Kant. And thank Moriah for me when you communicate with her next." Chase rose, snapping down his visor, and headed for the barracks.
The north barracks edged the far end of the dusty compound. He kept his helmet on as he approached, the stunner in one hand and his other hand resting on his gun. Reaching the barracks, he skirted around the building to check the layout. Two entries, one at each end, no windows. No brush for cover, but some crates lined one side of the barracks.
Deciding Dansan would stay near the rear entrance, in case loyal soldiers returned, Chase opted for that entry. Standing to one side of the panel, he pried it open a few inches with his weapon. He glanced in, and there she was. She had to be the one figure in the Shen robe, talking to a group of Anteks in disciplinary detention.
DD, as the Controllers called it, consisted of being stripped naked and held spread-eagled against a metal wall by use of magnetic shackles. The punishment could last days, with only water for sustenance. Humiliation was heaped upon the discomfort, as the DD wall was always in the midst of the barracks, and the offenders suffered mental and physical torment at the hands of the other occupants. And yet, it was far better than other punishments the Controllers meted out.
Chase watched as Dansan leaned toward the Anteks on the DD wall, gesturing dramatically. The sight brought a flood of memories pounding into his gut with collision force.
Dansan, speaking eloquently to the leaders of his colony, Torin, promising her new discovery would enable them to access the precious veins of iridon running deep underground. A brilliant research scientist, she had developed a compound that dissolved the hard layers of shale over the iridon, without damaging the ore itself.
She offered a cooperative effort to mine the iridon and share the profits. But her real intent proved to be treachery. She had engineered a deadly virus that swept through the colony, resulting in almost total devastation.…
Chase jerked, battling rising nausea. His futile recollections might allow his prey to get away. He had her in his sights, and she was unescorted, because her Antek guards didn't dare set foot on a Controller base. Chase punched the control pad, and the panel opened fully. He started toward his nemesis.
"You there! Halt! Drop your weapon and turn around slowly." The guttural command came from directly behind him.
Chase froze in disbelief.
"Drop your weapon now!"
Carefully, he released his stunner to the ground. He saw Dansan look up and back toward the other entry.
"Turn around."
She fled through the entry. He had to stop her. Chase turned to find two ominous disrupters trained on him by Antek guards. Blazing hells.
"I have authorization to be here," he said tersely.
"Remove your helmet."
Damn! He lifted off the helmet and glared at the guards. "What's the problem here? I have proper identification and I'm an authorized agent."
His words bounced off the stupid Anteks like radar waves. "You will come with us," one demanded harshly. "And no sudden moves."
Dansan would be well gone before he got clear of these idiots. He longed to pound them into the dust. But the disrupters aimed at him convinced him of the folly of arguing further. Seething inwardly, he strode toward base control. Commander Domek would set the matter straight.
But it was several frustrating hours later before he even saw the commander. He spent those hours in a holding cell, pacing and cursing the fate that had allowed Dansan to get away once more. The guards hadn't even bothered to look at his identification, or verify his palm or voice prints. He'd gone straight to holding.
"Captain McKnight. What a surprise to see you here." Commander Bron Domek stood on the other side of the force field, eyeing Chase with some humor. Only half Antek, he possessed reasonable intelligence, although he had the physical bulk of an Antek. Chase frequently transported prisoners to Alta for the commander, a courtesy to foster his freedom to roam the quadrant.
Domek grinned broadly. "A good thing the females on base didn't know you were being held. They'd have rushed the center."
"Very funny," Chase muttered. "Why the hell am I being detained, Commander?"
Domek shrugged. "I have no clue. I just returned from border patrol, and I'm meeting with Lieutenant Etan immediately. We'll get to the bottom of this. But I can't release you until I know what's going on."
He left Chase to stew another hour before sending a guard to release him. By then, Chase could barely contain his fury. As he entered Domek's office, he forced himself to greet the commander, although he wanted to tear the place down.
"Have a seat." Domek turned toward the cabinet behind his massive desk. "How about a drink?"
"I hate to be rude, Commander, but I'd really appreciate an explanation of what happened today, if you don't mind. I'm a little short on time." And very short on temper, although he refused to show it.
Domek poured himself a generous drink. Chase knew he imbibed frequently; alcohol made life on an isolated Controller base more bearable. Sinking into his seat, he downed a healthy portion before answering. "To be honest, McKnight, I'm still not certain what happened. I can only guess. I suspect someone wanted you delayed for some reason."
Chase clamped a heavy reign on his anger. "Why do you say that?"
Domek slid a com unit across the desk. "This message came in to the center today at 1100 hours."
Totally mystified, Chase read the message.
Be advised I have tracked a wanted offender to Odera. His name is irrelevant, as he goes by many aliases. He has blond hair and gray eyes, and is supposed to be meeting with a man named Kant at The Nebula today. Detain him for transport to Alta. Chase McKnight.
Stunned, Chase stared at the paper. Who had done this? And who, besides Sabin and Moriah, even knew he'd been headed for Odera?
Ugly suspicions reared their heads. He'd worked with Sabin for over two seasons now, watching his actions closely, as he made it a policy to never trust anyone. But he'd never uncovered any reason to doubt Sabin. He didn't know Moriah quite as well, although Sabin swore she could be trusted.
"The message had
your transmission code on it," Domek broke into his thoughts. "And we picked up your ship's homing signal when it came in. It had to be sent from your ship."
Sent from his ship? Disbelief slammed through Chase as the implications became clear. Nessa. She must have sent the message. But how?
Suddenly, things began falling into place. Nessa's skill on the computer. Her ability to decode his hatch. He'd assumed she'd just gotten lucky and hit the right combination by trial and error. A rash assumption, considering he'd used a six-digit code, virtually impossible to determine randomly—without a computer.
She must have decoded his PWL file. Damn him for a fool!
For a moment, his anger obscured all reason, but then his thoughts whirled another direction. Why would Nessa have done this, unless…He leaped from the chair.
"I must get to my ship right away."
"I'm afraid that's not possible, McKnight." Domek took another long drink. "Your ship received permission to take off four hours ago. It's long gone."
Another wave of fury roared through Chase, obliterating everything but thoughts of Nessa's treachery. All this time, he'd thought her an innocent. He'd accepted her into his bunk last night, believing she really desired him. He’d fallen for her large dark eyes and trembling lips.
The lying, conniving, little bitch.
"I have a request, Commander Domek," he ground out, battling for control over his rage. "Please report my ship stolen to all Controller bases. And for its return, along with the live capture of the thief, I offer a reward of ten thousand miterons."
* * * *
"Do we have to go in there?" Raven asked, her voice quavering. "Why are you wearing that mask over your mouth?"
Nessa sighed, inundated by a barrage of emotions. Battling debilitating fears, she prayed to Spirit to help her take care of everything before she entered the advanced stages of Orana.
"I explained this to you. I'm sick. I don't want you and Brand to catch my disease, so I can't come close to you or touch you. This is a surgical mask over my mouth. It will help to keep the germs from spreading."
"What do the germs look like?"
Ah, the innocence of the child. "They're so small you can't see them, sweetness. Now, please, get into the decontamination chamber."
"But why?"
Exhausted, Nessa leaned against the wall. Not wanting to panic the children, she had to remain calm and patient, even though she felt like pounding the walls and screaming. "Decon will kill any germs that might have gotten on you and Brand."
Raven considered a moment, then her eyes lit up. "Then if you go through de—con—tamation, all your bad germs will be dead!"
If only it were that simple. "The bad germs are also inside me. The decon rays can't go in there."
"Would they go in there if you opened your mouth? The rays could go in your stomach, like Chase's light did."
Nessa thought of Chase examining her to reassure the children. "No, sweetness, it won't help. Please, no more talk. Go on in, and don't come out until I call you. Turi and Lia are already in there, so you can pet them."
Raven's mouth quivered, but she obediently took her brother's hand. "Come on, Brand. Don't be afraid."
Brand drew back, shaking his head vehemently. The terror in his eyes tore at Nessa's heart. He'd probably been locked in a small room for transport as a slave, and the fear lingered. She tried to think of an enticement to get him to enter the chamber, as she didn't dare touch him.
"You can have some caroba when you come out," she offered.
His little body trembling, Brand just stared at the floor.
An idea occurred to her. "Chase will be so proud of you when he hears how bravely you entered decon."
His head came up at that. He thought about it a moment, then stepped through the entry. Heaving a sigh of relief, Nessa secured the panel and started the cycle. What to do next? She rubbed her aching forehead, trying to decide.
First, she had to consider getting Raven and Brand somewhere safe before she lost her faculties. Santerra was the closest known Shielder colony, but could she make it there in time? Further computer research on Orana had revealed the symptoms could appear up to seven or eight days before the victim succumbed to the final stage. But that offered no guarantees, with Santerra almost six days away. Nessa wasn't willing to risk it.
Star Base Intrepid, the closest highly populated settlement, was less than three days away. It appeared the best option. Since Nessa couldn't just leave the children there, she'd have to find someone to take care of them.
Sabin. His name leaped into her mind.
She immediately rejected the idea. Sabin was a shadower. There had to be another solution. But where to take the children? Nessa thought of Moriah. She had been kind and generous. Perhaps she would take Raven and Brand. No, that wouldn’t work. Calt was too far away, almost as far as Santerra, and in the opposite direction. There must be some place, with someone, where she could safely leave the children.
She searched through the computer files, frantic to find a solution, and coming up again and again with only one solid possibility: Intrepid. But she couldn't leave the children there alone. They'd quickly fall prey again to slavers or end up in the Pleasure Domes.
Nessa wrestled with alternatives, coming up repeatedly with one workable answer—Sabin. He presented the only logical choice. He was a Shielder, he already knew about the children, and he might be close enough to meet her at Intrepid in time.
But he was a renegade, she argued to herself. A traitor who hunted his fellow Shielders. Or did he?
As far as she knew, he'd never revealed her identity to Chase. He hadn't told Chase about the children, either, and he had returned Turi. She had to believe he possessed a good heart, even if he was a shadower. And because he was a Shielder, he was immune to the psionic brain waves of the Controllers, so he wasn't indoctrinated. The only thing that would impel him to turn the children over to the Controllers would be greed for gold. Nessa could only hope his conscience would win out.
At this point, she had absolutely no choice. She was too afraid of the children contracting the Orana to risk keeping them with her for the six-day trip to Santerra. She had to leave them at Intrepid, with Sabin. She'd just have to trust him, and pray that he wouldn't betray them.
Going to the cockpit, she entered the coordinates for Intrepid into the flight controller. Then she sent a message to Sabin.
Travers, meet me at Star Base Intrepid in three ship cycles. I'll send the time and location later. McKnight
After that, she dragged out the portable sterilizer unit and sterilized Chase's cabin and lav. She wanted the children to stay there the remainder of the trip. They'd have more room, plus the computer to entertain them.
She prepared several days' food, along with some caroba. She used sterile gloves, but planned to run the food through decon as an added precaution. Then she went to the decontamination chamber intercom.
"Raven and Brand, are you all right in there?" She peeked through the portal, to see Brand huddled next to Raven on the bench. Turi and Lia were curled together beneath the bench.
Raven waved at the portal. "We're fine."
"Listen, I'm going to slip some food through the door, then run the cycle again. When it's done, I want you and Brand to carry the food and the lanraxes straight to Chase's cabin. Don't go anywhere else. Stay in the cabin until I tell you. Okay?"
Obviously baffled, Raven nodded. "Good girl," Nessa praised her. "And Brand, you're being very brave. I can't wait to tell Chase. He'll also be pleased if you take care of his cabin while he's gone."
Raven smiled, and even Brand seemed to brighten. Staggering with exhaustion, Nessa sterilized the rest of the ship, working her way to the cockpit. She wanted the corridor to be as clean as possible when the children went to Chase's cabin.
When she was done, she contacted them from the cockpit. They did just as she asked, going straight to Chase's cabin. Then she went through decontamination herself, hopin
g to kill any external germs that might be on her. At that point, the exhaustion claimed her, and she fell asleep on the bench.
Alone and terrified.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Chase contacted Sabin from Odera, asking his partner to meet him. Commander Domek offered Chase transport on a ship headed for Alta, which he planned to take as far as the rendezvous point with Sabin, two ship cycles out.
Two very long cycles, providing ample time to think. Far too much time, as thoughts of Nessa and her treachery pounded Chase mercilessly. Other thoughts, memories of her lying beneath him, crying out in passion, warred with the knowledge of her betrayal. There was too much time to feel pain he had successfully managed to channel the past three seasons into the hunt for Dansan—up until now.
What had possessed him to allow Nessa to get too close, to fool him? He could only guess her seeming innocence and the long months of loneliness had weakened his vigilant guard.
But he learned quickly from his mistakes, and he never repeated them. He knew Nessa's true nature now. She'd be much easier to hunt down than Dansan. And she would pay for her treachery.
He was relieved to see Sabin when their ships finally docked, even if the idiot acted his usual irritating self.
"So you lost your ship, did you, old man?"
"Could you be serious for once, Travers?" Chase snapped, tempted to pound the smile off Sabin's face.
"Hijacked by a mere female—and a cripple at that."
Chase snagged the front of Sabin's flightsuit, dragging him up until they were face to face. "I do not find this situation funny in the least. Don't tempt me to rearrange your features."
"I know," Sabin responded quietly. "But if taking it out of my hide makes you feel better, have at it. Just be forewarned—I'll thrash you back."
Shielder — A new Science Fiction Romance (Book 1, Shielder Series) Page 19