My Man Michael

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My Man Michael Page 7

by Lori Foster


  “How about your firearms?”

  “Oh, no.” She looked appalled at such a question. “Weapons of that sort are forbidden.”

  She had to be kidding. “I thought you were at war.”

  “We are, but it is hand-to-hand combat. That’s why we need a man of your ability, power, and … size.”

  “So there’re no guns, no bombs?”

  Her hazel eyes flared, and she hushed him in a rush. “No,” she whispered. “Even the mention of such a thing can cause alarm.”

  “So …” He tried to think through the idea of a weapons-free existence. “Are knives, sticks, things like that allowed?”

  “Yes, though they’re frowned on as being the tools of cowards.”

  Ingenious. The world would rid itself of a lot of problems without fear of one group annihilating another. “So we’re to go it mano a mano?” When Kayli just looked at him, Mallet said, “Men, or in your case, women, going at it hand to hand.”

  “That is the preferred way, yes.” She paced a little while formulating more explanations. “I told you how the colonies are self-sufficient, each tending to its own problems. The Cosmos Confederation, which is our form of government that spans the galaxies, issues very few rules. One of them is a strict forbiddance of weaponry, lest it be used to unfair advantage against another.”

  Nodding as much to himself as to her, Mallet said, “I like it.” He gestured at the room, which looked like a barren, hygienic rubber enclosure meant for nut jobs. “So how’s this work?”

  Kayli put her hands together. “Hauk, wildlife please.”

  Mallet grinned. “Is that a pun?”

  “Not at all. Hauk is—”

  “Spelled with a u,” said a thick masculine voice that resonated throughout the room, giving Mallet a start. “Not a w, like the extinct fowl.”

  Eyes heavenward, Kayli continued, “Hauk is the name of the system in charge of this room.”

  “In charge of everything,” clarified the voice. “I have ultimate control of the vessel in every conceivable way. I just set your voice to the system so that you are now able to issue commands of your own.”

  Crossing her arms under her breasts, Kayli said, sotto voce, “Hauk can be a little …”

  “Cocky?” Mallet asked. But he understood, and added, “He’s male. I get it.”

  “He has a male voice,” Kayli clarified, “but he’s a computer.”

  “A male computer,” emphasized Hauk. “Unlike some gender-free units.” Then he added, “And Kayli, I’m quite pleased you didn’t say just a computer.”

  “Now Hauk, would I insult you that way?” Kayli taunted.

  “On a daily basis,” Hauk confirmed. “But I tolerate it because I love you.”

  She snorted. “More likely because I own the ship.”

  Hauk sniffed in return—but didn’t refute that.

  Chuckling at their sibling-like banter, Mallet asked, “You name all your robots and computers?”

  “But of course, otherwise, what would I call them?”

  Hauk asked, “Shall I proceed, Kayli?”

  “Yes, please.”

  And suddenly Mallet found himself in a heavily wooded setting. He could smell rich earth and moss and the scent of running water carried on a balmy breeze. All around him, leaves rustled, large unfamiliar birds screeched, and animals snarled.

  Shocked, he took Kayli’s hand and pulled her behind him as he searched the area, looking for the source of those angry animal roars.

  “That’s enough, Hauk. Thank you.”

  The woods disappeared, placing Mallet back in the stark white room.

  He stared at Kayli. “Holy shit.”

  Disapproval warred with amusement. “I see that I’ve surprised you.”

  “Again.” He ran a hand over his head. “I take it we weren’t transported?”

  Amusement won out. “We were not. The room provides a three-dimensional vision of all commands. To get the full benefit, you need to sit in one of the chairs. They can provide simulated motion and air disturbance, along with temperature changes.”

  “No, thank you.”

  She laughed—and the sound was so rusty, but rich and pure, that Mallet found himself heating with temptation.

  “It’s all an illusion, Michael. The chair will simulate other affects of your command, but no harm can come to you.” She lifted their laced hands. “Or me. That is why you put yourself in front of me, isn’t it? To protect me?”

  Feeling self-conscious in the face of her amusement, he shrugged. “I guess.” And as his irritation grew, he added, “It’s instinctive.”

  “And perfect for our purposes. We need a warrior like you, a man capable and caring.”

  That reminded Mallet of something her mother had said, and he jumped on it, anxious to ease the awkwardness of the moment. “What did Raemay mean about a sacrifice?”

  Kayli avoided his gaze. “I would prefer to explain that later. For now, we should take you to eat, and then you may either return here to familiarize yourself with our community, or retire to your room to get some rest.”

  Mallet caught her chin and brought her gaze around to his. “I’m not tired, Kayli. Food can wait. And I’m not ready to explore this room further just yet. So how about you just answer my question?”

  “It is complicated.”

  “Un-complicate it.”

  She sighed. “Very well. As you know, we are under siege from a neighboring colony. The men are bigger than our norm, though nowhere as massive as you. More along the lines of my height.”

  “And you’re a runt,” he teased. But he recalled that her mother stood no more than a few inches over five feet—much shorter than her daughter.

  Kayli’s expression contorted with anger. “They are savages. Marauders taking what they want without consideration. At first, we tried to fight them, but that only caused damage to our homes and lands without success in defending our people. When we engage, they go after our men, knowing that we have a shortage and that our men are most valued.”

  More valued than the women? Mallet was too astonished to comment. He couldn’t imagine a bunch of women trying to protect men. It wasn’t natural.

  “Have they killed many of your men?”

  “None.”

  “None?” He grunted. “Then … ?”

  “Sheltering the males leaves our untrained women vulnerable for abduction.” Her hands fisted. “We’ve lost several to them already.”

  A knot of dread twisted in his guts. “They murdered women?”

  “We don’t know!” She paced away, but came right back. “I hope not, but the first was taken almost a year ago, several more since then, and we never again hear from any of them.”

  So while warring, they grabbed up available women. Bastards. “What do they want?”

  Kayli’s hazel eyes filled with sadness, anger, and impotence. Her ripe mouth turned down in distress.

  Eyes closed, she whispered, “Women.” She swallowed, lifted her shoulders with helplessness. “From what we can tell, that’s all they want—our women.”

  A very bad feeling came over Mallet. “And the sacrifice?”

  She started to turn away, but Mallet caught her shoulder.

  “Kayli?”

  She didn’t look at him; her voice was small, filled with shame. “To avoid attack against the entire colony, we … that is, the hierarchy …”

  “Spit it out.”

  She met his gaze with stoic determination. “It was decided to give them one woman on the first day of every second month.”

  Outraged, Mallet dropped his hand and took a step back. “Meaning you hand over six women a year to your enemy?”

  Again, she closed her eyes as if unable to face the truths of her colony’s decision. “So far,” she whispered, “the intruders are satisfied with that quota, and our colony is safe from further retribution. Whoever you choose tomorrow will be protected from the practice. That’s why Mother is anxious for you to decide.�
��

  “And whoever I don’t pick?”

  “Will be among those determined suitable as a peace offering. A name is randomly drawn from all available women.”

  He didn’t believe it, any of it—how could he? But still Mallet went rigid with rage. He was a natural-born fighter; it was the only thing he’d ever found in life that made him feel complete.

  But damn it, he fought as a sport, not as a way of bullying others. He detested brutality, especially against anyone smaller or weaker than himself. The thought of cruelty toward children or women left him raging. He hadn’t lied about his instinctive inclination to protect.

  Now those instincts slammed into him. “No fucking way.”

  Kayli drew a deep, shuddering breath, and nodded. “Yes. And the time for choosing the peace offering—”

  “Sacrifice, you mean.”

  “Yes. The time grows near. Unless you get familiar with our situation and offer a better solution, another woman will be left in the glen for them to take.”

  “Oh, I’ve got a better solution, all right.” Mallet turned and headed for the door. “You fight. Each and every fucking time.”

  Kayli ran after him, her voice raised with excitement. “Sir, wait. It was not my decision to cower and give in. Perhaps with your aid, we can convince the others …”

  “Stop calling me sir!”

  She faltered, then launched after him again. “Michael, wait. Where are you going?”

  “To find your mother the Arbiter,” he ground out. “And the chicken-shit council who lets her pull this stunt again and again.” He was to choose a woman? Ha! He’d choose them all, and then they could start to figure out another way.

  Kayli wrapped both hands around his upper arm. “Wait!”

  “For what?” He dragged her along a few steps.

  “You have no idea where you’re going.”

  That brought him up short. Knowing she had a point, he turned to face her. “Take me to them.”

  Kayli grinned, and it made her look so beautiful, Mallet felt like he’d been punched in the solar plexus. “You’re happy?”

  Tears filled her eyes as she nodded. “That you’re here, yes. That you feel the same as I do, yes. That you’re willing to do whatever you can to assist in ending this horrid—”

  Mallet couldn’t help but snatch her up and kiss her silly. Her mouth was soft and damp—and quickly pulled back from his. “Come here.”

  She fought her way out of his arms. “Michael, you must stop that!”

  “Sorry, babe, no can do.” He crossed his arms, and stared her in the eyes. “Now take me to your leader.”

  CHAPTER 5

  IT was such a corny line that Mallet almost lost some of his steam.

  Almost.

  But Kayli’s reaction to his kiss, not at all encouraging, kept his temper on a high note. How was it she’d uprooted him, zipped him through time, turned him inside out—and managed to stay mostly unaffected by the sexual chemistry snapping and crackling between them?

  As he watched her rub her mouth with her fingertips, he was far from unaffected.

  He wanted to see her smile again, hear her laugh. He wanted to taste her.

  All over.

  Kayli drew in several calming breaths, and took another step away from him.

  Hoping he hid his annoyance, Mallet raised a brow and waited.

  “There is a certain way of doing things here,” she said with tentative care. “Because she is the Arbiter, you can not just storm in on my mother and make demands. She will need to hear an alternate plan, and that will require you to have at least a rudimentary understanding of our surroundings and manners. I beg of you—”

  “No, never beg.”

  Exasperation took her back another step. “Very well, Michael. I ask of you, please, will you eat, don more appropriate attire, and then make use of our media room? In the morning we will speak again and you may tell me of any alternate plan you might conceive. But understand up front, whatever your intentions, I’m for defending our people, all of our people. I will back you in any effort to end the sacrifices.”

  He supposed her suggestions made sense, but patience now didn’t sit quite right. Rubbing the back of his neck, he nodded. “When do they choose the next poor female to throw to the wolves?”

  Her breath shuddered in and out. “Not until tomorrow midday.”

  That’d give him a little time to think things through. Already, a plan formed. Harebrained, but hell, it was better than forfeiting someone to an unknown fate.

  “All right. I’ll try to slow it down.” He pointed a finger at her. “But no one is getting sacrificed.”

  Her smile quivered. “Thank you, sir.”

  He threw up his arms in frustration. “I told you, no more ‘sirring’ me, damn it!”

  “All right, Michael.”

  Her humble response irked, and blunted the edge of his temper. What had she thought—that he’d go along with such a barbaric thing? No way.

  Less heated but still grumbling, he said, “For a supposedly civilized colony, I’m not real impressed.”

  “Understandable, under the circumstances.”

  “Yeah, well …” He hated seeing her like this, on pins and needles. “I’m hungry and I guess I could use some clothes that fit a little better.” He flipped one end of the robe over his knee. “At least if I’m covered a bit more, it’ll keep you from ogling me so much.”

  And with that, he gestured for Kayli to show him to the kitchen, or the eating place, or whatever she called it.

  A little tongue-tied, her cheeks again pink, Kayli darted around him to take the lead down the hall. Mallet didn’t mind. He enjoyed the rear view of her as much as the front. Heck, maybe even more.

  So she wanted to defend her people.

  He liked that. He liked her. A lot.

  The future, and all it held, looked a whole lot brighter than it had yesterday.

  KAYLI’S heels echoed on the floor as she approached the pristine food preparation room. As one interconnected unit, it selected, cooked, and served each menu requested.

  She stopped inside the door. “How do you like your steak?”

  Arms folded over his chest, he propped one boulder-shoulder against the framing of the unit. “Medium well would be great.”

  Despite his casual stance, he looked impatient, and Kayli could guess why. He knew only the cooking methods familiar to his time, and was disappointed not to see the meat already seared. She shuddered at the repulsive thought.

  “Your potato?”

  He eyed her, then shrugged. “What the hell. I’m not in training, so load it up.”

  “Load it?”

  “Butter, sour cream, bacon bits, cheese—throw it all on there.”

  “Of course.” She faced the mainframe—which consisted of one tiny circular microchip—and repeated Michael’s order.

  A quiet hum sounded, and seconds later a seamless space stretched opened in the counter. A tray arose filled with the steaming food, a glass of iced juice, condiments, napkins, and utensils.

  Seeing Michael go wide-eyed in amazement gave Kayli some satisfaction; he’d certainly taken her by surprise more than once. “Like much of my vessel, the galley is voice-activated.”

  Dumbfounded, Michael looked at her, then at the fragrant food with much doubt. “You named the food, and it … appeared.”

  “Prepared just as you requested,” Hauk said.

  “In the future, while on board, you may order up your own food.” Kayli watched as Michael sniffed the food with suspicion. “If you don’t want to come here to do so, you can instruct Hauk and he can have it delivered to you by one of the AMAs.”

  “Taste it,” Hauk said. “Go ahead.”

  “He’s anxious,” Kayli explained with an indulgent pat to the counter. Hauk was great, very cocky as Michael had claimed, but also determined to please. “He probably sees you as more of an equal, so your opinion matters greatly to him.”

  Hauk
took exception to what she said. “I can speak for myself, Kayli.”

  Still a little shell-shocked, Michael picked up a fork and knife, and cut into his steak. He took one bite, and his eyes closed on a groan. “Oh God, that’s good.”

  “I’m not a god,” said Hauk, “but thank you. I would serve you nothing less than perfect food.”

  Kayli wished for a way to rein in her domineering computer. “That was just another colloquialism, Hauk. Remember I gave you that history on our guest and his speech mannerisms? If you would only take the time—”

  “It took me only minutes to absorb it all, of course.” Hauk sniffed with all the disdain usually reserved for humans. “It was an understandable mistake.”

  “It was,” Michael said around a mouthful. “You are a god—of fine cooking.”

  “There, you see, Kayli? The big man sees my worth.”

  If possible, Hauk would have probably stuck out a tongue. It was fortunate he didn’t have one.

  “His name is Michael.”

  “I know his name.”

  “Call me Mallet,” Michael said. “I’m more used to it.”

  “Indeed,” Hauk said. “It suits you, Mallet.”

  Annoyed at how they’d excluded her, Kayli picked up the tray and handed it to Michael, put her hand on his forearm, and said, “We’re going to the dining room now, Hauk.”

  Hauk sighed, but agreed. “Very well.”

  Before she could say another word, they were in the formal dining area.

  Michael stiffened in shock to find himself transported yet again. “Did we just—?”

  “Yes. Hauk moved us here.”

  Annoyance darkened his features. “I don’t like it. I have legs, you know.”

  And no doubt he wanted to use them, now that he could again. “I understand. Once we leave the vessel, we’ll rarely transport, so you don’t need to get accustomed to it.”

  “Why do we transport here, and not elsewhere?”

  His interest pleased her. The more he learned about them and their ways, the more effective he’d be in correcting the wrongs. “Hauk has the ability to do the transports easily, but it uses a lot of his power to access that function when we’re not on board. Most in our colony do not have a computer like Hauk.”

 

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