by Ashe Barker
“About me. He means she worries about me. My mother might be dying and it’s all my fault.”
“He didn’t say that,” Phahlen pointed out. “And by the sound of it she isn’t dying. We should listen to the rest.”
Her father was smiling at her from the screen, though the expression was forced. Caria knew him, and could tell at a glance that her level-headed, calm father was sick with anxiety himself and that was enough to scare her. He cleared his throat before continuing.
“It would cheer her up to hear from you. I know they allow you to receive messages from us but don’t allow you to send many messages home. But I thought, perhaps if you were to explain the situation… just a short message, a few words to let her know that you’re all right and to encourage her to get well again.”
Caria turned to Phahlen. “May I? Please? I know I sent a message just the other day and I’m not due another for weeks, but—”
“I’ll tell Baren that you are to have special privileges, just until we hear that she is better.”
“Thank you.” She flung her arms around his waist and gave him a hug, one of few demonstrations of spontaneous and genuine affection. Despite their physical intimacy Caria rarely touched Phahlen unless they were in bed. Then she couldn’t keep her hands off him.
Her father’s voice continued to fill the room. He went on to describe her mother’s treatment and to assure her she was in excellent hands and the surgeons were among the most skilled anywhere.
Apart from Vahle.
Caria knew Vahlean medicine was far more advanced than that of Earth. She had no doubt Doctor Morele and his wizardry could cure her mother, just as he had corrected her own problem.
As she listened to her father’s closing words, Caria’s determination hardened. She would be free, she would keep her baby, and she would see her family again. Soon. She couldn’t endanger the child just starting life within her so she would need to plan carefully this time, but she would succeed.
“Don’t worry, he said she was recovering. Her treatment has been a success.” Phahlen flicked the key to close down the screen, then lifted Caria in his arms. She expected to be dumped on the bed, but instead he carried her out to the living area. The Obelisk board was already set up, with a selection of her favourite snacks beside it.
“Oh, I thought—”
“I know what you thought, my insatiable little human. Be patient, I shall get to your clit later. First I intend to thrash you at Obelisk.”
Caria looked up at him, took in every detail of his smile, the way his pale hair curled around his chin, the deep blue eyes, the determined set of his jaw. His lips curled in a knowing smile, as though he peered into her soul and knew without a shadow of doubt the lust he inspired within her. She feared him, resented him with a bitterness she could barely credit, but she desired him too. He was a powerful man, and he controlled her very existence. At the same time though he had not only saved her life, but made possible her deepest wish. How could she leave him?
Freedom. She would do anything, anything at all, if it would mean she might once more be free. But she knew she would miss him terribly.
Correction, she would miss the sex, which was beyond fabulous. The man himself could be decent company if he chose to be, when he wasn’t thrashing her with a paddle or locking her in his bedroom for hours on end. But he fucked like a demon, and she could forgive him a lot in exchange for that. A lot, but not enough. Not enough to make up for what he had done, what he had taken from her.
But he gave you back your fertility. The small, mutinous inner voice chirped up. He saved you from an imploding planet, and from the vile Galeians.
He had his reasons, his own reasons. He said himself, all those weeks and months ago when she was first captured, that if she hadn’t been a human female and thus of use to him, he wouldn’t have risked his life or his ship for her. She stifled the inner voice; she couldn’t weaken now.
“Are you all right? You don’t look well. Would you prefer to send your message home?” He gestured to the board and carefully arranged pieces. “We can always play later.”
“Could I?” She wiped the moisture from her eyes with a frustrated sigh. “I just can’t concentrate, and—”
“I understand.” He fished his communicator from the belt on his uniform. “Baren, I need you to establish a new channel, to Earth.”
“Affirmative, Commander,” came back the reply. “And I have a fresh direct transmission from Vahle for you. Shall I patch it through?”
“Yes, please.” He smiled at Caria as he waited for the communication to clear. “Don’t worry, she’ll be fine.” He mouthed the final remark, then turned his attention back to the transmission now coming through. A disembodied voice filled the room.
“Commander Phahlen, we have need of your diplomatic skills.”
“Nice to hear from you too, Governor Mehner,” replied Phahlen drily. “Nothing too serious, I trust?”
“Serious enough. The Teek are on the rampage again. We need an envoy, and they know you.”
“But not for good reasons. The last time I had dealings with them, they tried to hijack the Empyrean. I am not prepared to allow any of them on board.”
“No need. The disturbances are taking place in the Juno sector, and you could be there within two cycles. It just requires a short surface mission to their home world, remind their kaereef of their obligations under the Medlanium Treaty and get her to call off her war dogs.”
“Is Harok still kaereef?”
“Affirmative. She particularly requested your presence, Commander.”
Phahlen grimaced. “I cannot say her affections were reciprocated. That female is—greedy.”
There was a chuckle through the communicator. “I seem to recall you described her as rapacious, Commander. Need I remind you of the requirement that she be treated with the respect due her rank? We do not want another incident like before.”
“Then perhaps a different negotiator…?”
“No. The Teek want you, and we need to have this matter resolved. Take a skeleton crew and pay them a visit.”
“You are aware, I suppose, that all of this might just be a lure to get us there.”
“It might, so keep your wits about you. If it looks like a setup, abort the mission and report back immediately. We do not want to escalate this skirmish, but if we are left with no choice…”
“I understand. I will prepare for a low key diplomatic visit.”
“Excellent. Keep the High Commission informed of progress. Mehner out.” The communication channel went dead.
Caria stared at Phahlen. “You’re leaving?”
“Just for a few hours, probably. It won’t take long to impress upon Kaereef Harok the error of her ways and remind her of the consequences if her colonial outposts do not conform to interstellar protocols.”
“But I’ve heard all about the Teek. They’re vicious.” A warlike race, the Teek had wrought havoc across several galaxies for generations until their activities had been curbed by the combined efforts of several planets. Outbreaks of violence continued to erupt from time to time.
“Yes,” agreed Phahlen, “if they are allowed to be. Since their last defeat by the interstellar alliance they are near enough powerless, but they like to keep us on our toes.”
“You know this Kaereef Harok?” Caria was bewildered by the sudden surge of jealousy. “What was that incident you mentioned?”
“I did not mention it, Governor Mehner did. It was nothing, a misunderstanding. The Kaereef learnt of our need for females and she offered her services. The Teek are humanoid, as I’m sure you know, but their DNA is incompatible with that of Vahleans. I declined her offer, which she found not to her liking.”
“A woman scorned?”
“Not the description I would have applied, but I believe I take your meaning.”
“When will you leave?”
“You heard the governor say we were a couple of cycles away from the Juno sector.
Unfortunately, though, I won’t be able to spend much time with you before I leave. The preparations for a mission such as this need to be meticulous and I am going to spend a lot of time between now and then in briefings.” He stood, then bent to kiss Caria on the forehead. “I need to make a start so our game will have to wait, and I am going to need you to go back into the bedroom, please. You can send your message to Earth from there.”
Caria rose, obedient, and padded back into the sleeping chamber. “Will I see you again before you leave?”
“I expect so. I will be back when I can, between briefings.”
He kissed her again, this time on the mouth. “Send your message, and try not to worry about your mother. Or me.”
“I wasn’t worrying about you,” she retorted.
Not true. She was. He grinned as he left her, as if he knew.
Bastard.
* * *
A plan was starting to form in Caria’s head. In her hours of enforced solitude she had plenty of time to think, and she put the time to good use. Some of the details were hazy, and she needed to make use of the on board computer to acquire the vital information she needed. She blessed the fact that her needs were quite obscure so not likely to attract suspicion but even so her plan would require luck, and nerve. A lot of nerve. If she failed, she hardly dared contemplate Phahlen’s punishment.
But she wouldn’t fail. She couldn’t, not this time. This time she had so much more to lose, not least of all her child once Phahlen became aware of her pregnancy. She would be banished to Vahle, and she would be trapped there because the prospect of leaving alone was not to be contemplated. She had a decent chance of getting away now, but that would evaporate if she had to make the attempt with a small child.
When she had attempted to escape before, it had been a spur of the moment impulse… no plan, no preparation. This would be different. She had thought it through, prepared for it. This could work.
Phahlen returned to his quarters on the day of the planned mission. He seemed preoccupied, his mind on other tasks, but he still made time to spread Caria out on his bed and suck on her clit until she came, screaming. He fucked her then, a swift, almost perfunctory coupling. He had his uniform back on almost before Caria stopped quivering.
“I hate to fuck and run but I have to leave. There are some final checks on the satellite craft that require me to be there, and I need to brief Baren. I will see you soon, within a cycle or two, certainly. Then we will have all the time we need.”
“I understand.” Caria forced the words out, determined to maintain an air of normality. He mustn’t suspect. She couldn’t allow him to get even an inkling of what she had planned. “Take care.”
He marched to the door.
“Sir, before you go…”
He turned.
“I wonder, may I see Doctor Morele again?”
Phahlen came back to the bed where she still lay, naked. “Why? Are you ill?”
She shook her head. “No, not really. Just a bit tired, and…”
“You should have told me that you were unwell.”
“I’m fine. I would like to talk to Doctor Morele though. If that’s allowed…”
“Of course it is allowed. I shall summon him now. The pre-flight checks can wait.”
“No!” Caria had to work to rein in the urgency in her tone. The last thing she wanted was for Phahlen to be present while she saw the doctor. He had to leave her alone with the medic. Everything rested on that. “It’s not for me, and not even urgent. I want to ask him about my mother’s treatment. It would help me to cope if I could understand exactly what’s happening. I thought I’d take a nap right now, then maybe if he could call in an hour or so. If that’s convenient…”
Phahlen regarded her for several long moments, then nodded. “I will ask him to call in later then, as long as you are sure you’re not ill.”
She knelt up to kiss him. “I’m fine. Really. Now go, they’ll be waiting.”
“I’m in command here, let them fucking wait,” he growled. But he kept the kiss brief, and moments later the door swung shut behind him as the DNA-activated lock clicked into place.
So far so good. Now she needed to get ready for the next part of her scheme. She went over to the hospitality station and requested a large bottle of water.
* * *
Sounds in the outer chamber heralded the doctor’s visit. Caria rushed to the bedroom door and pressed herself against the wall beside it. The door swung aside and the doctor entered. Caria gritted her teeth and swung into action. The bottle of water was a dead weight in her hand as she swung it at the medic’s head. He crumpled to the floor with a grunt, and she leapt forward to grab his medical bag. The blow had stunned the doctor, but she knew he wouldn’t be down for long. Caria had no desire to hit him again, but she would if she had to. A better solution, though, would be found in his bag.
She rifled through the equipment and drugs until she found what she needed—an analgepen. Caria adjusted the setting to administer the correct dose to keep the doctor safely anaesthetised for the next few hours, which she had looked up on the ship’s medical database the previous day. She pressed the end of the pen to his temple, and pressed the trigger. The doctor went limp.
Caria took a few moments to check his pulse and breathing. Satisfied that he was in a stable condition, she fished about in his bag again, and this time came up with his medi-tablet. She took a few moments to think back over the instructions she had memorised from the medical database, then she went to work. She found the DNA recognition programme and started it up, then pressed the doctor’s palm against the screen. The device registered his biometric signature and requested further instructions. Caria selected save, and replicate. Moments later the message on the screen assured her that her instructions had been carried out. Time to test it.
Caria scrambled back to the door and pressed the medi-tab to the sensor. She almost wept with relief when the door slid open. She had done it. She had a key.
First though, she had to deal with the sleeping medic. She rolled the man over and dragged him to the bed. It took some effort to lift his inert form onto the mattress but she managed it. Once there, she removed his uniform and donned it herself. She had seen no other females on board the Empyrean and her gender was unmistakable, not to mention that she was several centimetres shorter than the doctor. His uniform could hardly be described as even approaching a decent fit. She couldn’t hope to pass undetected among the crew, but the disguise might be enough to provide a few moments’ cover, and with luck that would be enough.
She secured the medic’s ankles to the foot of the bed using the straps that Phahlen usually used for her. She tied the doctor’s wrists behind his back and stood back to survey her work.
She was committed now, no going back. She picked up the tablet, and on impulse shoved the analgepen into a pocket in her new clothes. She scurried back to the door and opened it again using her new DNA ‘key.’ The outer door proved just as obliging. She peeped outside to find the coast was clear, and started down the corridor at a brisk sprint.
By Caria’s reckoning she had maybe half a par-cycle in which to reach the cargo bay and launch pad. It would be quicker to use the transporter system, but she’d learnt the folly of that last time. Use the stairs, Phahlen had advised. She would take him at his word.
The service stairway was located next to the transporter, and her DNA key opened it easily. Caria was uncertain how many floors she had to descend, but was guessing at three. She would need to check at each landing, but there was no avoiding that.
It was four floors in fact, but she encountered no one on her headlong rush down the stairs. Caria crept from the service stairwell to find a scene of intense activity on the other side of the cargo bay. Just as she’d hoped, there was no mistaking which craft was about to be launched. Now all she needed to do was find a way to get on board, unseen, and hide until they landed on the surface of the Teek world.
At that point
her carefully laid plan ended. From there she would be playing by ear, but she would somehow find a way to get off the planet and back to Earth.
She waited, hidden behind a stack of packing cases as she had been on her first visit here. Caria watched as Phahlen, wearing a thermal deflector suit similar to the one he had on when first she met him, conversed with Baren at the foot of the gangplank leading up into the craft. As far as she could see there was no other way on board, but crewmen passed to and fro carrying equipment and supplies. Two other crew members wore suits like Phahlen’s so she surmised these had to be his skeleton crew.
Caria pondered the prospect of just marching up to the craft with some piece of equipment under her arm. Would she be challenged? Once on board, would there be anywhere to hide? The satellite craft looked even smaller than she remembered, and it would be carrying at least three crew.
Another idea occurred to her. Would it work? Could it? She checked her pocket for the analgepen, then she made up her mind.
The smaller of the two crew members was still a whole lot bigger than she was, especially around the middle, but she was facing very limited options. Caria grabbed one of the packing cases in the stack in front of her and emerged from her hiding place. She forced herself to walk slowly across the cargo bay, making sure she averted her face from any other crew member. She was relieved that at least the Vahleans tended to wear their hair long so hers didn’t give her away. No one challenged her as she approached the small craft. She placed the packing case down and crouched by one of the struts supporting the craft. From the corner of her eye she watched her target, and prayed he wouldn’t turn out to be the pilot.
Too late to worry about that now. Her quarry ambled past her and exchanged a remark or two with the engineer in charge of fuel levels. Seemingly satisfied, he disappeared around the other side of the craft. Her heart in her mouth, Caria followed.