“Like this,” she says, and slips her hand into mine.
It’s tiny, her hand, fragile. There’s no hardness to it, no callus, her skin soft and warm. She curls her fingers around mine and then lifts my hand, moving it up and down a few times in what must be the ‘shake’ part of this gesture.
“Thank you,” she says, “for rescuing me.”
“You are most welcome,” I say.
Then her fingers are releasing mine and I have to resist the urge to grab hold of them again. Because damn being appreciated feels good. And the soft touch of her skin.
I’d be lying if I said the horror on the Vetruen women’s faces didn’t give me a little thrill of delight, too.
“And sorry for not recognising you straight away,” the princess says. “My memories of what happened earlier are a bit fuzzy. And you do look rather…” She looked up at me. Swallows. “Commanding.”
Before I even have time to formulate a response, a door opens and H’Varak bustles in. He doesn’t come from his office, and he’s wearing the most ridiculously intricate outfit I’ve ever seen him in, which probably accounts for why he’s late. He’s halfway to saying something when he stops, eyes widening. And what a tableau we must make - three horrified Vetruen women, one Human princess standing far too close to a hybrid UP-LE Captain. H’Varak doesn’t need to know what’s happened to know that Vetruen propriety has been well and truly trampled on in the last five minutes.
As much as I’d like to let him stew in his discomfort a bit, I have to rescue the situation. It won’t do me or the princess any good if I don’t.
“My lady,” I say, bowing my head with the proper respect. “Allow me to introduce you to Commander Tesson H’Varak, leader of Xentra Station.”
She glances up at me, a hint of confusion in her eyes, as if to say ‘this guy?’ I have to bite my tongue not to laugh.
“A pleasure to meet you,” she says, and goes to raise her hand, dropping it and making a strange bobbing movement while flicking her skirts out instead.
“And I you,” H’Varak says with a twisting hand gesture, all charm and smiles again. “Please, the dining room is this way.”
He sets out in front of her, leading the way. She follows after him a moment, then pauses, glancing over her shoulder at me. When she sees I’m following, she gives me a brief smile. My heart stutters a little at the sight of it, and it’s only a little bit because she’s beautiful. One handshake and a few kind words and I’m already undone, wondering if there are other places she would be willing to touch me, thoughts I absolutely should not be having about a person who may be a member of a royal family. A person I have to consider a member of a royal family, even without irrefutable proof.
And I’m about to be ordered to escort her home on an at least two week long journey. A journey where we’ll be completely alone together.
Veck.
Chapter 6
Charlie
The frilly guy leads me to a room with a long table in the middle of it, two place settings made up, one on either end. He draws out a chair at one end and gestures for me to sit, then walks the two or three metres to the other end and sits opposite me, smiling a sharp smile.
He must be the same species as the women - who disappeared somewhere between the hallway encounter with Captain Dhakhar and arriving here - as he has the same features. His hair is brilliant white, his eyes dark purple, his skin a shade of lilac somewhere in between the two. His jacket is the fussiest thing I’ve ever seen, and I know I shouldn’t judge because who knows what’s fashionable for aliens, but he looks like an extra on a bad period drama.
He’s also about the least commanding person I’ve ever met.
Seriously. I’d believe Jason was the commander of a space station over this guy, and I know for a fact the only time Jason ever left England was on a camping trip to Wales.
Captain Dhakhar on the other hand has that military thing going on - stiff spine and oozing authority. His skin is a pale blue colour, but I don’t think he’s the same as the Commander or the women. He looks, despite the blue, a lot more Human. An extremely rugged Human with a jawline that must have been chiseled from rock, but definitely on the more Human end of the appearance spectrum.
The Captain follows in the room after us, and I frown. There are only two place settings, only two chairs.
The Commander - was his name Tesson? - doesn’t appear to notice. He just picks up one of his glasses and holds it out, some sort of robot thing flying over to him and filling his glass with a dark red liquid.
“Hold your glass out to the side and it will fill yours, too,” Tesson says, still smiling that sharp smile at me.
I try not to think of it as sinister. It is just his face, after all.
I pick one of the smaller glasses and hold it out. The robot buzzes to me and dispenses a different coloured liquid, and I figure the different size of glasses must indicate different drinks rather than different desired quantities. When the robot finishes, I bring the glass to my nose and sniff it. I don’t detect the smell of alcohol, but I’m cautious when I take a sip all the same.
Whatever it is, it tastes vaguely fruity. Slightly sour, but not unpleasant.
Unlike the knowledge that Captain Dhakhar is just hovering in the room with us. It’s so awkward, it’s making me uncomfortable. I set my glass down and glance at him.
“Shouldn’t we find another chair?” I say, turning back to Tesson.
He looks completely confused for a moment, then something like horror crosses his expression as he turns to Dhakhar. I smile, thinking he’s embarrassed to have forgotten him.
“Oh, no, Dhakhar has no place at this table,” Tesson says.
He smiles and I wish he would stop. It’s not just that his words shouldn’t be accompanied by a smile, or the fact that his lips are thin and look like blades when he stretches them out. It’s how his eyes glitter with something other than warmth or friendliness. Mark used to look at me like that.
Fear creeps up my spine, a coldness at the back of my neck, and I realise I’ve been fooled by his ridiculous outfit. Sure, he doesn’t look commanding, but people don’t get to positions of power without having something going for them. Charisma, strength, intelligence, money. Sometimes people don’t have enough of any of those things and still claw their way to the top, and those are the really dangerous ones.
I get the feeling Tesson is really dangerous.
My heart beats fast, and I have to take a steadying breath. I’ve let myself be distracted by the station, the trio of women, the beautiful dresses. I’ve not stopped to think what a precarious position I’m in.
Alone. On the other side of the Universe to Earth.
Back home, I don’t have to be afraid. Not since my father went to prison. Not since Jason put his arm round me at Nat’s wedding. Being Jason’s girl means I don’t have to worry about being hassled by anyone. But Jason can’t protect me here.
So I do the only thing I know how to do in the face of a dangerous man. What I watched my mother do when father came back from the pub blind drunk. What I watched my sister do when Mark was in one of his moods. What I never have to do with Jason because he’s so much better than them, never laid a hand on me that I didn’t want him to.
I fix a bland smile on my face, bury my emotions deep and force myself to be placid.
“Oh,” I say, using my best ‘be kind, I’m not very bright’ voice. “I didn’t know that. I’m sorry.”
I bat my eyelids a few times. Hope I haven’t oversold it.
Tesson’s smile widens, and I think he’s satisfied.
“That’s quite alright, your majesty,” Tesson says. “You weren’t to know.”
Your majesty. Right.
Definitely not correcting him about that.
Dinner feels like a minefield after that. The robots bring food through, several plates of small portions at once, arrayed in front of me like a tasting platter. I watch Tesson for cues and follow his lead. The food i
sn’t bad. I’m too hungry to care too much about what it actually is.
I don’t look at the Captain, and he doesn’t speak unless spoken to. Tesson does most of the talking, and I try to look like I’m hanging on his every word.
Which is difficult, because he mostly talks about himself, and I really don’t care. While he blathers on about his plans for Xentra Station, I zone out and try to imagine Jason’s face. It’s so hard to hold the image of him in my head, though. It’s not just him. I try to summon Nat or my mother, and their faces just warp and dance out of the way. I wish I had my phone so I could look at pictures of them, though I doubt it would have survived the ice coffin. In a way the police did me a favour by confiscating it.
God, being arrested feels like a hundred years ago.
It may well have been a hundred years ago, I remind myself. And I can’t keep ignoring that little thought any more. I have to know.
At the first available gap in the conversation, I cautiously speak up.
“May I ask a question?” I say.
“Of course,” Tesson says, waving his hand around.
“How… how long was I frozen for?”
He doesn’t know. Of course he doesn’t know, because he doesn’t give a shit about me. And now I’ve accidentally annoyed him, because he has to look to Captain Dhakhar for an answer. But I can’t be too worried about that, because I have to know what that answer is.
“We can’t say for sure,” Dhakhar says, “because we don’t know how long after you were taken that the smuggler ship headed out here. But from the flight logs, they travelled straight from Earth to here, and that journey took them around two weeks, Universal Standard Time. I don’t know how close your planet is to Universal Standard Time, but it’s not a long stretch of time. When you return, things will be much as you left them.”
I let out a breath, relief flooding me. I go to say thank you to Dhakhar, but stop myself, turning the smile I want to give him on Tesson instead.
“That’s good to know,” I say, as if he told me.
It makes me feel a bit ill, but it works. Tesson gives me another one of his horrible smiles, appeased.
“Yes, this must all be quite… overwhelming for you,” he says. “But don’t worry, I’m going to ensure you are taken excellent care of.”
“You’re going to take me home?” I say, feeling comfortable to ask because Dhakhar said something about me returning.
“Of course,” Tesson says, his hands fluttering again. “You will be escorted back to your home planet in the best ship Xentra has in her fleet. It’s why I’ve summoned Dhakhar - he will be taking you. You’ll be met there by some diplomat types, nothing to worry about for you - they will handle everything. You’ll be back to your own home and your own bed before you know it. I know this must all have been very traumatic, but I hope you’ll at least remember your brief stay here on Xentra with some fondness.”
The dress, definitely. The Captain who saved my life, sure. Maybe even kind Crelin who looked after me in the hospital. But this encounter with the Commander… not so much.
“Of course,” I say, bland smile still in place. “You’ve been very kind.”
When dinner ends - not soon enough - Tesson passes me back to the three colourful women.
“They have packed some supplies for your journey, my lady,” Tesson says. “And will now escort you to the ship and help you get acquainted with your rooms. Dhakhar will be along shortly, I just need to have a few words with him first.”
The three women giggle, and I get the impression that the words aren’t going to be terribly pleasant for the Captain.
I allow myself to be steered away. Not that they actually touch me, just box me in, two either side of me and one behind, then start walking, so I have no choice but to follow.
“Not every day that someone gets to dine with the Commander,” Blue says, nodding at me.
“I’m sure he does the same for all his guests,” I say.
All three of them laugh.
“Oh, no, my lady,” Purple says. “The Commander wouldn’t treat just anybody like that.”
“No, no, no,” Yellow says. “Only the most important guests get the very best.”
I guess this is supposed to be flattery. Maybe if I wasn’t just pretending to be important, it would feel like it was only my due. But I’m not important, and I can’t help wondering when someone’s going to realise that.
If I’m about to leave the station, then perhaps awful Commander Tesson doesn’t ever need to know, but can I really keep it up for the full two week journey with Captain Dhakhar? Do I even need to? In my few interactions with him, he hasn’t seemed like Tesson and the others. They’ve treated him with contempt, but Dhakhar was pleasant to me. He shook my hand when it was clearly some sort of horribly offensive thing to ask him to do.
I’ll have to apologise to him for that. Apologise and then tell him the truth. Maybe he doesn’t like Tesson either. Maybe he’ll understand my reasons.
No. I can’t take that kind of risk based on one interaction. I need to know more about the Captain. And I don’t think Yellow, Blue and Purple are likely to hold back on his bad points.
“So, the Commander said that it will be Captain Dhakhar escorting me home,” I say. “What’s he like?”
Blue pulls a face. “UP protocols say a high ranking officer is required to escort someone such as yourself home. But Xentra’s only a little station. That means after the Commander himself, the Captain of the Law Enforcement division is the highest ranking officer.”
Law enforcement. So he’s a space police officer. Great.
I must be pulling a face because Purple nods at me solemnly.
“It’s unfortunate,” Yellow says, pouting. “But the Commander is trying to expand operations here. When the UP realise what good work Tesson has done rescuing you and escorting you home, they will have to provide him with more personnel.”
“He might look frightful, but Dhakhar’s not so bad,” Purple says, still nodding at me.
‘Frightful’ is not the word I would use, and honestly, I don’t give a damn what he looks like.
“I mean more… Is he nice?”
Blue shrugs as if niceness is of no consequence. “He’s respectful and competent.”
“Ugh, look, we know it’s a drag being forced to travel two weeks with a hybrid,” Yellow says, “but Dhakhar’s okay. He’s one of the good ones.”
“Look at it this way,” Blue says. “It’s much better than the alternative.”
“The alternative?” I say, and I don’t really want to know, but also, I really need to.
“They stuff you straight back in the freezer,” Purple says it in a whisper, like she’s letting me in on a big secret. “Take the cryogenic express all the way home.”
At the thought of the ice coffin, my heart starts pounding again. The trio, too busy laughing, don’t seem to notice. I try to breathe slowly, try not to let my mind go back to how it felt waking up underwater, freezing cold, the lid above me shut.
I ball the material of my beautiful dress in my hands, probably scrunching it up something terrible. But gripping it gives my panic somewhere to go, and a few steps later, my heart rate has slowed and I have my emotions back under control.
A small part of my brain wonders if I would be better off telling the truth, letting them freeze me and ship me back like luggage. That way, they won’t be able to do anything bad to me. But a louder part of me is screaming not to do it. To keep the pretence up at all costs. Anything to save me from being forced into one of those boxes again, watching the lid come down over my head as it fills with water, first over my ears and then up to my face, enveloping my nose and mouth. The absolute terror of thinking I was going to drown in the moments before being frozen. And then the same in reverse when I wake up.
As soon as I meet up with the diplomats, my lie will be exposed. It’s inevitable. The princess the Commander must think I am is a ten-year-old kid who has the same first n
ame as me. I don’t know why he hasn’t realised about the age difference, but the diplomats surely will. They’ll know that I’m almost fifteen years too old and a hundred percent too lower class to be the person the Commander thinks I am.
But that doesn’t matter. I’ll be all the way home by then. There will probably be some sort of consequence for lying, but I’ll just have to handle that.
I can’t handle the idea of being frozen again. Just the thought of it makes my throat grow tight, my fists clench until my knuckles go white. Maybe I’m stupid, maybe I’m putting myself at unnecessary risk.
But I’m not going back in that box.
I’m not.
Chapter 7
Dhakhar
By the time H’Varak is done warning me to treat the princess with the respect and dignity she deserves, it’s on the verge of getting late and my tongue is raw from how hard I’ve had to bite it.
Dignity and respect? I’m not sure how much more of H’Varak’s hypocrisy I can take before I snap and punch him.
He even goes as far as to remind me that it would be illegal for me to lay even a finger on her. As if I didn’t vecking know that. As if I’m not Captain of the Law Enforcement division here, trained in the intricacies of the Protectorate’s laws and how to uphold them.
And there’s nothing complicated about the law here, She’ll be under my protection - touching her in any kind of way would be an abuse of my position. It would be an abuse of my position even if she wasn’t a princess.
It would be an abuse of H’Varak’s position, too, not that he’d have hesitated.
At least his plan to use the situation to his advantage appears to be to capitalise on the incident to secure more funding so he can expand Xentra. It will involve gross exaggeration of both his involvement, and how effectively a proper outpost at Xentra could deter trafficking activity, but if the UP fall for that bovi-shit, they deserve to waste their money on him.
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