Enemy Overnight

by Robin L. Rotham

  And God only knew what hers would be like if she didn’t get her perfectly good piece of ass off this ship, pronto. She had to find Dr. Snow or Noah Beaumont. If any Terrans aboard knew what was going on, they would.

  Her watch chimed. Going tense, she patted her pocket and sagged with relief to feel the outline of her nasal spray bottle. After a quick look around, she pulled it out and inhaled two quick puffs in each nostril before stuffing it back in her pocket. Crap, it was hot in here!

  She pulled the sweater off and hooked it over her shoulder before weaving her way through the crowd again. Too bad she hadn’t worn a T-shirt instead of this thermal undershirt—she was going to die in this heat.

  Twenty minutes later the only thing she’d discovered was that they were locked in. Damn it, where were the medical and support personnel? Between doctors, executives and maintenance, there’d been at least thirty men living at the compound, but so far she had yet to see one of them. In fact, all she’d seen were the candidates, and there was no way she wanted to be included in that cattle call.

  “Could someone please tell me what the hell is going on here?” she finally yelled at the top of her lungs.

  A handful of female voices echoed the call.

  “The minister will address your concerns shortly,” a disembodied male voice announced.

  “That’s not good e—ow!” She tried to jerk away from the fingers pinching her elbow.

  “Haven’t you caused enough problems?” Shauss growled in her ear.

  Her face flamed. Why him of all people? Hadn’t she been humiliated enough? “Get your hands off me!”

  In an instant, everything around them disappeared into a white void.

  “The candidates are already on the verge of revolt,” he said, glaring down at her. “The last thing they need is a former compound employee with a grudge leading the charge.”

  “I’m entitled to a grudge or two, don’t you think?” she snapped, trying to pry his steely fingers off her. “You’ve kept me locked in my room for the last three days. I don’t know what you call that on Garathan, but on Earth it’s known as false imprisonment and punishable by several years in prison.”

  “Actually,” he said in an informational tone, “unlawful restraint in the state of Montana is punishable by a fine of no more than five hundred dollars or a jail sentence of no more than six months.”

  She blinked. How the hell did he know that?

  “However,” he continued, “your restraint was in no way unlawful. You were a confessed accomplice in the abduction of our mate.”

  “He tricked me and you know it!”

  “All the more reason to keep you on a tight leash. Peserin knows who would use you against us next.”

  “I’m no one’s puppet!” she ground out.

  His arch look made her want to scream—and cry. Damn the ambassador for permanently wrecking her credibility!

  Taking a deep breath, she told him, “I just want to go home now.”

  “That’s not an option at this point.”

  “What could I possibly do to you from Earth?”

  “That’s a very good question, and one we would just as soon not have to contend with at the moment. Hence, you will remain aboard.”

  “That’s not acceptable.” She slapped at his hand again. “And let go of me, damn it! You’re cutting off my circulation.”

  Her heart went into overdrive when he twisted her arm behind her and jerked her against him. Leaning down, he said, “Miss King, my patience with you wears thin. Hold your tongue until the minister has addressed the candidates or suffer the consequences.”

  Though she was trembling, she managed to pant, “Screw you.”

  “Ah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” She tried to look away, but he grabbed her chin and forced her hot face up to his. Stroking her jaw with his thumb, he breathed into her open mouth, “Were you very disappointed that I left your ass intact?”

  Burning with humiliation, she swung a fist at him but he grabbed her wrist and twisted it behind her back with the other. The action arched her body more fully against his and she was startled to feel the hardness of his cock poking at her belly.

  “Don’t get too excited,” he told her coldly. “That’s not for you.”

  “You’re despicable,” she hissed.

  “Be still and listen to the minister.”

  Although the white void remained, the voices of those around them were suddenly audible, and judging from the whispers, all the women were giving the field surrounding them a wide berth.

  “I hope she’s okay,” someone said.

  “Ladies, if I may have your attention, please.” Minister Cecine’s voice boomed in the open bay and all conversation ceased. “I apologize for your unexpected removal from the planet’s surface but time was of the essence. As I was explaining in the auditorium, unknown enemies have been circulating anti-Garathani propaganda to the Earth’s major media, and now those enemies have committed an unspeakable act of terror against your planet. Less than two hours ago, six major Terran military bases were simultaneously destroyed by abbarint devices.”

  “Oh my God!”

  “Hush,” Shauss hissed in her ear.

  Jasmine froze, her heart racing out of control. She tried to wrap her head around the minister’s words but nothing could get past the feel of Shauss’ silken hair brushing her face. The cool mass felt almost alive as it caressed her cheek. Would it taste as good as it smelled? She could see herself pulling a strand between her lips like a honeysuckle style and delicately skimming its nectar onto her tongue, could almost taste the cloves and honey and fresh, clean—

  Crap! Her eyes popped open. What in God’s name was she doing?

  “Although every component required to synthesize the abbarain molecule is available on Earth,” the minister continued after the women’s noisy reaction subsided, “Terrans lack the technology to do so, and thus suspicion fell naturally to us. When American bombers targeted the compound, we felt it prudent to evacuate all residents to the Heptoral. The compound itself has since been vaporized.”

  Horror cramped in her abdomen. The compound was gone. Her workout equipment, her plants, her DVDs, her computer…all toast.

  And if the Garathani hadn’t beamed her aboard, she’d be toast too.

  Cecine’s voice snapped her back to attention. “Until diplomatic relations have stabilized, you will all remain aboard as our guests. If the process takes more than a few days, we will house you on Garathan until we are certain that you will suffer no undue consequences upon your return as a result of your association with the Garathani.”

  “What!” She struggled again. “There is no way I’m going to Garathan. I mean it, Shauss—I have to go home.”

  Shauss didn’t respond, and the minister waited for the candidates’ dismayed reaction to die down before he went on. “Since mating assignments have not been completed, it will take time to work out living arrangements, but we will endeavor to make you all comfortable and address your most pressing needs. There are Terran physicians aboard to see to your medical care and we can replicate any medications you require.”

  Jasmine cringed. What about her nasal spray? There wasn’t enough left for a few days, much less a scenic cruise to Garathan, and no way could she let them replicate it.

  Shauss suddenly released her and the field dissolved. “Your name will be called when your quarters are assigned,” he said. “Now mind your manners so I don’t have to come back.”

  He walked off while her brain was still wrestling with the nasal spray problem, saving her the trouble of formulating a withering reply. While it was a relief to have him away from her, and certainly much easier to think, she felt a ridiculous sense of abandonment when he disappeared from view. She did not belong among all these women.

  Then she noticed them all staring at her and blushed.

  “Everything’s fine, nothing to look at here,” she said under her breath, picking up her sweater, which she’d dr
opped at some point.

  She had to get off this ship or die trying.

  Chapter Two

  Shauss arrived at the transport pad five minutes before the assigned time. Not surprisingly, Kellen was already there in his polished dress uniform, a ceremonial dagger tucked into the sheath at his waist.

  When his eyes dropped pointedly to Shauss’ dagger, which he’d carefully not worn since Monica used it to put a hole in him, Shauss said with a wry smile, “I’m feeling adventurous this morning.”

  “That’s good. President Landon’s bodyguards likely won’t be any more welcoming than Monica was.” He nodded at Holligan. “You may power up at will, Ensign.”

  “Aye, Commander.” The flare generator began to hum.

  “We could just send him a written invitation on a flaming arrow,” Shauss suggested.

  “While that would get the point across quite effectively,” Kellen said dryly as they stepped onto the platform, “it is the council’s wish that we reestablish face-to-face relations before the Terrans can work themselves into even more of a frenzy.”

  “Get them back in the saddle?”

  “Exactly.” He grinned. “I’m enjoying the western flavor of your banter this morning, Shauss.”

  “It seems appropriate to the occasion.”

  After a moment’s hesitation, Kellen sent privately, with obvious care, “Monica is worried about you.”

  “Worried about me? For Peserin’s sake, why?”

  “You departed rather abruptly after your claiming.”

  Shauss raised a brow. “Was I supposed to tap you on the shoulder for a mid-coitus group hug?”

  Kellen directed a speaking look his way but said nothing, which suited Shauss just fine. He had claimed Monica in the mutually agreed-upon manner two nights past and taken his leave when it became obvious his presence would not be missed. What was there to discuss?

  “Transport systems at full power, Commander.”

  “Commence flare, Ensign.”

  They’d barely been engulfed when the brain-piercing shriek of converging anharmonic flare membranes nearly drove Shauss to his knees. Trapped in the bubble, he had no choice but to clap his palms over his ears and brace himself for whatever awaited them.

  Put your head between your knees and kiss your ass goodbye.

  He would have sent the thought to Kellen, who stood in a similarly tortured pose, but Shauss couldn’t even hear himself over the clash of energy membranes, which meant Empran couldn’t pick him up either. Too bad—he wouldn’t have minded having that bit of macabre Terran humor holoscribed on his memorial plates.

  Six seconds after it had begun, the convergence ceased and they dropped their arms. They had an instant of blessed silence before their transport flare dissolved. Not surprisingly, they weren’t in the Oval Office.

  Kellen’s eyes widened. What in Peserin’s hell…?

  Before them, in a harshly lit, low-ceilinged room, a crowd of sweaty Terran females gyrated to the rhythm of recorded music.

  “Latin fusion,” Shauss replied, nodding toward a banner on the side wall. “Zumba perhaps?” Hardly the worst possible outcome of a flare convergence but a startling development nonetheless—and not just for them.

  Screams erupted as the females noticed their reflection on the mirrored front wall and scattered like billiard balls.

  Sighing, Kellen ordered, “Holligan, emergency flare-out, if you please.”

  A new flare field engulfed them and the low-ceilinged room disappeared.

  “What happened?” Shauss asked.

  “Flare deflection at its most benign, thank the Powers,” Kellen replied grimly.

  “I got that.” Shauss stretched his jaw to relieve the stuffed feeling in his ears. “But where did it come from? It wasn’t there yesterday.”

  They arrived back in the transport bay and Holligan immediately powered down the flare generator. “Trouble, Commander?”

  “Trouble, indeed,” Kellen replied as he stepped off the platform. “Empran, the council is still in chambers?”

  “The minister and resident elders are currently in session with the general council,” the computer reported.

  Kellen strode out the door and down the port corridor at an urgent pace. “There’s no way the American government could have developed defensive flare technology so quickly.”

  Shauss fell in beside him. “They had help.”

  “Without a doubt. I apologize, Shauss. My miscalculation could have cost you your life.”

  “Commander, no one could have foreseen—”

  “Poppycock. I knew Pret was utilizing alien flare technology. I should have erred on the side of caution and led with a probe.”

  Shauss swallowed a snicker. Poppycock? “You do realize you won’t come across as very fearsome using language like that with the Americans?”

  “I suppose you would have said bullshit.”

  “That’s what our obstreperous little mate would have said.”

  “Precisely. I can’t very well take her to task for using foul language if I’m using it myself.”

  “Of course you can.”

  Kellen just smiled.

  When they entered the council chamber, they found Minister Cecine and all four resident elders seated at the vast curved table. The twenty-six members of the general council, each seated at his own legislative desk, appeared in holographic assembly opposite them.

  “Please forgive the interruption,” Kellen said with a bow as all heads turned their way. “If we may have a few moments?”

  Cecine addressed the assembly. “Gentlemen, let us adjourn the general session while the high council confers with Commander Kellen.”

  “As you wish,” Braman said. The hologram disappeared, leaving the vast floor of the council chamber empty.

  “You aborted your attempt to see the president?” Cecine asked.

  Kellen dropped into his seat and gestured for Shauss to pull a chair over from the vacant gallery along the round arena’s edge. “Someone aborted it for us. Our flare was deflected.”

  “Deflected?” Elder Luide echoed in the tremulous voice of the exceedingly old. “By whom?”

  “That’s the sixty-four-dollar question.” When the elders looked at him blankly, Kellen said, “It’s from an old… Never mind. It’s not important.”

  Shauss stifled a grin. The commander delighted in the vagaries of American English, and his habitual and colorful use of the language often annoyed the elders, who had little contact with Terrans. If it wasn’t included in the cerecom download they didn’t want to hear it, much less try to understand it.

  Leave it to the high council to fault an officer for his facility with languages.

  “We slid approximately six miles from our target coordinates within the White House,” Kellen continued, “so the deflection field must shield an area of at least one hundred thirteen square miles.”

  “You’re fortunate to have returned whole,” Cecine commented. “Follow exploratory contact protocols next time, Commander, so that I’m not forced to explain the gruesome details of your demise to my daughter.”

  There was a moment of silence and Shauss assumed they were all doing what he was—imagining him and Kellen arriving on the platform as one big, bloody pile of ground Garathani. Most of the more sophisticated defense systems bounced unauthorized flare bubbles back to their points of origin, while less powerful systems like the one encountered today simply slid them off their deflection field’s perimeter. But a malicious few pulled the bubbles, which were almost pure energy, through magnetic netting that julienned everything—and everyone—inside. A reverse trip through the netting effectively minced what was left.

  Monica would not be a happy camper if they returned in such a state.

  The minister rose and began pacing around the table with his hands clasped behind his back and his crimson robes swirling around his ankles.

  “Someone is determined to prevent us from reestablishing relations with the Terr
ans,” he said. “Presumably that someone is limited to Terran energy sources, but we can take nothing for granted. We must operate on the assumption that another race is sharing advanced technology with the American government for the express purpose of sabotaging our long-term objectives here. No other vessels have approached the planet since our arrival, so we must also assume this other race preceded us.”

  “We can eliminate the Narthani as suspects,” Elder Gillim rasped. Taking a deep breath, he continued. “They have no transports capable of traveling this distance.”

  Shauss was surprised he didn’t collapse after such a lengthy speech—Gillim was even older than Luide and hadn’t weathered the passing decades nearly as well.

  “No.” Cecine shook his head, scattering his flaming red hair across his shoulders. “We may have destroyed their long-range vessels, but the Narthani should top our list of suspect races. They’re the single largest producer of flare technology after us, and there’s nothing to prevent them from joining forces with some other race capable of interstellar travel.”

  “They’ve already proven themselves more than willing to commit genocide, which is why we’re here in the first place,” Kellen said—as if any of them needed reminding.

  Kellen had lost his first mate and young daughter to the biowar virus, and the protracted cruelty of their deaths had nearly crushed him. He’d shown admirable restraint in executing the counterattack against the Narthani, but Shauss doubted Kellen would be able to maintain such self-control if anything happened to Monica, his little GaraTer hybrid. Shauss would have been none too happy himself. Just the thought of Monica’s near-rape sent a red haze over his vision.

  “Exactly.” Cecine nodded. “They might view our mission here as an opportunity to take care of unfinished business.”

  “I’m inclined to believe these attacks are the work of some radical splinter group rather than an official government action.”