She chuckled. That particular expedition had been a disastrous failure. Cook had caught them with their hands in the jar, as guilty as sin, the pair of them, and they had been allowed only boringly healthy food for the whole of the following week.
Food was something she must not think of. Her stomach was already churning at the memory, and Bendin was dead now, killed with too many others of her childhood. He had signed up for the fleet straight after graduation. Anything to get into space, he’d told her, and it was meant to be only a secondary part of his life. The Hathian fleet was never more than a part-time force, staffed by volunteers, and his studies came first; but with less than six months’ experience as a pilot, he was called up to help man Hathe’s outer defenses, one of the brave few who must hurl their small spacecraft against the massive ships of the Terrran invaders. Hathe’s forces hung on against truly awful odds, fighting desperately at the edges of their solar system to give their world what it needed so badly. Time.
Time was something she was running out of. Somehow, she must escape or get a message out.
She had tried yesterday to alert a passing native through the service door. It was no use. He couldn’t see her, though she could see and hear him as clearly as if she were walking beside him. Frustrated, she had screamed and yelled, beating her hands against the force field and ending only with the burns the Major had noticed. Damn him, she cursed. He thwarted her at every turn and she had nothing to fight him with. What did she even know of the man?
Nothing. Absolutely nothing. His apartment must have been carefully screened by the Terrans in the short time before she was brought here, for it told little of the personal side of its owner, and she had still been awaiting a report from Central when she was caught. Even Jaca, who was so violently opposed to him, knew only rumors. Yet the man seemed to know a great deal about her.
What a fool she was. She had been sent here to gather information on officers such as him. Yet here she was, perfectly placed to do just that, and she was acting like a witless child trapped in a mythical nightmare.That was going to change, she vowed. It was time to get to work.
First, Jacquel. He was not dead. The Terran must be bluffing, or so she would believe until she saw a corpse. Not that she would ask to. For all she knew of him, he might just kill the captives to supply the proof of his words, and she had seen more than enough dead bodies.
She ignored her moment of weakness, the memory of that kiss, when something had flared between the Terran and her. What had Jaca said? The man used charm as a weapon. That’s all it was—an experienced, charming rogue using his skills against her. Nothing more. She would be much better concentrating on how to make the best use of her situation. She needed to plan a campaign, not moon over an infantile crush.
Second the red light was a ruse. She must not believe otherwise. Next: find out about Major Radcliff—but not in the way he intended, she amended angrily. That he was so very attractive was but a nuisance, and one that must be ignored, she told herself sternly, disregarding the amused voice inside that asked did she seriously think she could do that so easily.
Yes, she declared back. He’d made it decidedly clear that he would enjoy taking her to his bed, and giving that kind of pleasure to an accursed Terran was not among her plans.
She lay resting that afternoon, with a wicked grin cheering her thoughts of the coming evening. She had discovered a way of enduring her lack of sleep, by passing the time in an open-eyed doze. When that failed, she lay still, making and discarding plans. As it turned out, she had plenty of time to prepare. Radcliff was late in returning.
CHAPTER SIX
After leaving Ferdo, Hamon fled the Citadel and escaped to the solitary vastness of the plains. A timeless emptiness where the grasses, shrubs, and native creatures were intent only on their relentless and unforgiving battle for survival. Here alone he had the space he needed—space to think, to find a way out of his dilemma, to remember Earth as he had last seen it: overcrowded and short of all but the most basic of foods, and those only in quantities sufficient for those still on the list of citizens entitled to full rations. So many essential services disconnected to conserve what little urgonium the Terrans managed to extract from Hathe, the preservation of life being the only priority. Not even his own home was exempt, despite his personal wealth and the power of his family. Neither could buy what Earth no longer had.
He remembered, too, his once beautiful mother, charged with control of the scarce resources left to Earth. He had been shocked at the change in her, haggard and worn down by the constant need to order ever harsher restrictions and sick with worrying over how much longer Earth could survive. They had gambled everything on their attack and conquest of Hathe. Now, there was nowhere else for Earth’s teeming millions to go. The other Alliance planets were too wary, too well armed and had made it brutally clear they would refuse entry to any Terran migrants. Their only option was Hathe, and without its vanished technology, it could support no more than a small fraction of those needing refuge.
He could prevent the impending catastrophe. All that stood against him was one small woman, as unattainable as she was desirable. How could he consider putting in jeopardy the survival of an entire planet, just for her? It was unthinkable!
Then he returned home and was met by her welcoming smile and her luscious curves. All his memories of Earth couldn’t stop his response to the sight of her. He had to fight far too hard for his liking to kill his threatening smile and replace it with a frown of suspicion.
She misread it for weariness. Deliberately so, he had no doubt.
“Major, I thought you would never be back. You look so tired. Come, a cleansing and change from that uncomfortable uniform and you’ll feel much better.” Gently but firmly, she took his arm and led him through to the dressing room. She reached out to take his jacket, but that was too much. He stepped back in refusal. “What? Modesty? How unexpected. Never mind, I’ll fetch you a drink instead and leave you to change in peace. Your robe is laid out on the sleeper.” She gave him another innocently sweet smile and left him to bathe in private.
What’s she up to? Hamon stared after Marthe as he slowly removed his uniform and stepped into the cleanser, to relax in the clouds of the fine jet spray tingling against his skin. Then had a sudden thought.
“No!” He burst into the room, ignoring the water dripping on the floor. But there was his uniform, exactly as he had left it. So she was not aiming to search that. To make sure, he sealed it in storage, along with a couple of telltale scraps in the pockets, before returning to the cleanser. Yet he could not banish his suspicions, and it was not long before he turned in irritation to the drying air currents and emerged. He flung on the long, dark green robe she’d left for him and stalked into the lounge. No one could be so cheerful after two days and nights of no food and no sleep. Could they?
But she was, coming forward with that damned welcoming smile on her face and beckoning him to a seat near her own.
“How was your day? Nothing too troublesome, I hope?”
“No, fine.” He stretched out his legs, surveying her uneasily beneath lowered lids.
The woman wasn’t to be put off so easily. “Mine was rather enjoyable—almost fun, in fact. This apartment was pleasant enough, but I think you might find my changes an improvement.”
He looked round in surprise and, yes, he had to concede the success of her day’s work. Not that he was about to capitulate fully. “Why did you move the melkin plant?”
“It wasn’t getting enough light. They need bright sunlight to flower.”
“So that’s why it never did before.” Unconsciously, his guard eased a fraction. “I put it down to the effects of irradiation. I found it near your house, you see.”
She seemed determined to ignore any provocation. “Maybe, but see how it goes in the light. As for the rest, they should be happy enough where they are, though I have to say they seem a much richer green than is normally the case for Hathian plants. What’
s your secret?”
“Loving care and attention … and a room air mixture with a higher CO2 content than is normal for Hathe. You may have noticed a slight odor when you were first brought in?”
A lift of her brow. “It wasn’t the room I was noticing then. You have quite a reputation to live down to.”
“And don’t I?”
She laughed gently. His callousness of the past days appeared to have had little effect on her. Surprisingly, it didn’t at this moment bother him. In fact, he was rapidly forgetting all his hard won resolutions. Not that he went so far as to offer her dinner, but then she didn’t ask for any, too busy discovering what she could of him. He would allow it for now. It was harmless enough, and he was curious about her reasons. Gradually, she drew him out to talk of himself and his family and, despite his innate caution, he found himself telling her who his parents were.
She tried to hide it, but he was starting to know her well enough to see the shock in her face.
“You may well be surprised. What is the son of Administrator Freya MacDiarmid and Ambassador Garth Radcliff doing as part of this miserable outfit? Well, for starters, I was one of the few Terrans who chose to or had the means to travel. I happened to be here at the start of the expedition and was the nearest thing available to an expert on Hathe, so the military asked me to come on board. My mother wasn’t happy about it, but knows me too well to argue. As for my father, it’s years since we’ve been on speaking terms. I doubt he was too bothered over any possible danger to his misbegotten offspring.” He grimaced. “My parents’ marriage was politically advantageous to both but not convivial, I gather.”
“I am sorry. How sad, to be estranged from your own father.”
“Don’t be. It’s merely one of life’s incompatibilities. We’re too alike. But you should understand. Didn’t you say you were at odds with your own father?” he countered, unable to resist catching her out.
“Only latterly,” was her quick reply. She cast her eyes down as if in great sorrow. “We were very close once, especially after Mother’s death when Bendin and I were twelve, and now Bendin’s gone too.” He saw the sadness in her eyes when she spoke of her brother, but it wasn’t enough to stop the flash of gratification he felt. Nor did he bother to hide it, needing to see her reaction. Her retort was instant. “He died trying to defend us from a certain pack of primitive savages, who yet managed to win, defying any belief in the existence of natural justice in the universe!”
Hamon immediately wiped his face clear. Not such a good move. The surprising rapport that had sprung up between them was far too fragile to be threatened by his bad memories.
Marthe, too, had regretted her rash words as soon as spoken, remembering her own goals of this night, and listened without comment to his apology.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to gloat. I had a humiliating encounter with your brother once. It still rankles.”
“You met Bendin? But how? When?”
“It was during my visit here, just before the takeover.” He told her of the delegations’ mission. “Your Council just laughed,” he added bitterly.
“More urgonium? But why?” she said, swiftly hiding her stunned amazement at his words. Earth had been their largest buyer, taking far in excess of its needs surely?
“To survive, of course. How else were we to keep the food processors operating, let alone the de-polluters, transporters, heat exchangers and all the other paraphernalia a very, very crowded planet needs to survive?”
“Is Earth very crowded?” She knew exactly Earth’s population, but needed time to recover.
“Very. I do not think even your peasants could have any comprehension of what a hell that once-so-glorious planet has become. It’s why, Mathe help me, we had to indulge in this sordid occupation.” His shoulders hunched. “And then we get here and find we can’t get the damned stuff out in any but the most minimal quantities. All your technology had fled. Stars, what a joke. What a razzing, cursed joke!” He sat back, eyeing her bitterly, the one person who could solve his problems.
She couldn’t meet that look, turning away to hide her amazement. Granted the recovery rate of urgonium was not as high as in the past, but the Terrans were still extracting enough to supply the entire Alliance! She carefully began to question him about life on Earth and found it harder and harder to believe what she heard. They had always known the Terrans were backward in energy technology, but if what he was saying was correct, Earth was at least a generation behind the rest of the Alliance, relying on one source, urgonium, for absolutely everything. And that in a grossly inefficient manner. Surely they had heard of modern developments! Not even Earth’s pompous self-absorption could have led to such isolation, could it?
What a mess. All that her home had suffered these four years past, simply because Terrans were too ignorant to look after themselves properly.
Anger churned in her, igniting a deep resolution. She would fight this man with all the guile at her command, and right now she felt little of the fascination he had earlier evoked in her. She was as angry as she had ever been in her life, almost as much as the day she had seen her brother’s body returned, bloodied and mutilated.
She must not let her anger take over. Not yet, despite the gut wrenching scream lodged in her throat, making talk impossible. Anger was too dangerous now. Time enough to let him feel the full depth of her fury when Hathians again owned Hathe. Struggling for control, she leaned back into the comfort of the chair fighting for breath. A fake smile, and air returned to her lungs; but she twisted the talk away to safer channels, frightened of what she might reveal.
Hamon went along with the change, but was not fooled. He’d seen the shock of his words in the subtle tension of her face. She was very interested in what he had told of Earth. Why? He fell to studying her, trying to fathom what lay behind those shaded features. Not only had she been trying to milk him all evening, but she was also hiding something. He supposed knowing that eased his conscience, if nothing else; but the lady had better start talking soon.
She shifted uneasily under his stare and spoke quickly, filling the deadly silence that had fallen between them. “You said you had a run-in with Bendin once. What happened?”
His mouth twitched. It was so obvious that she was trying to distract him. He answered her anyway, repeating the story he’d told Ferdo. “We both fancied the same lady and he took exception to my greater success.”
“Fancied? Bendin never merely fancied a woman. He had a disastrous habit of imagining himself involved in the romance of the century every time he met a new ladylove. There were ten such, if I remember rightly. I can just imagine how furious he would have been at your stealing his latest from under his eyes. But surely that’s not why you dislike him? Not over such a trivial matter.”
“Your brother didn’t think it trivial. I was at a reception at your house not long after, and he had me thrown out. An accredited envoy, visiting the planet on official business, and he treated me like gutter trash. All because I was gazing over a balcony rail at you and your sister. You were quite a woman in your younger days.”
“Thank you, I think. The last four years have been rather trying.”
“Have they? I wonder. And I don’t want to hear that hackneyed tale of yours again.”
The abrupt attack deliberately slashed at her defenses. He watched her desperately scrabble for purchase in their deadly duel of wits as he compelled her to meet his eyes. This time he was the better at hiding how much he longed to forget duty for just one night and ask her about something entirely different. “Two Haut Liege turning up in the one place is too much of a coincidence for anyone. Especially two such good friends.”
She jumped up, a dark red flush of anger in her cheeks. “You should have asked him before you had him put down,” she retorted, rising and whirling round away from him, as if desperate to escape.
It was a mistake. Color deserted her face, a stark white as the blood left it and her eyes glazed over. She clutched
at a nearby table, fighting back against the threatening faintness. The table crashed under her and she crumpled to the floor.
She came to, cradled in his arms as he forced liquid into her unyielding mouth. A look of confusion on her face, she pushed out at him, fighting off his help.
“Stop that. It’s only water and glucose. Drink it down before you faint again.”
Weakly, she did as she was told, then struggled to sit up. Another wave of dizziness hit as soon as she raised her head. Drops beaded on her forehead as her body flushed then paled, and her hand pushing at him was terrifyingly weak.
Hamon looked at the woman in his arms and knew defeat. Her face was stripped of life, the etched darkness beneath her eyes a mockery to his precious duty. Cursing softly, he picked her up and carried her gently into the bedroom to lay her on his sleeper.
“Lie there, don’t move, and be sensible for a change. After this long without food or sleep, you should be conserving your energy, not trying to pick my brains.”
There was no answer from Marthe. Exhausted and drained, she looked ready to dissolve into tears and barely seemed to notice as he lifted his hand to remove the band from her head to let her fall into desperately needed sleep.
It was a long time before Hamon found any rest. He stayed all night by her side. She was as tough as the land she took her strength from, but surely even she would not hold to her silence past the point of survival. Would she? Even the cruelty of a session was preferable to that!
In the earliest hours of sunrise, Marthe was crudely woken. The Terran had thrown the frigid splosh of a wet cloth on her face. Spluttering and with a head that felt as if half the city had been dumped on it, she struggled to rise, staring bleary-eyed at her tormentor. Gone was the gentle man who had held her last night.
Resistance: Hathe Book One Page 8