“Thank you, but I really only came to give you this.”
She delved into a pocket then extended her hand. He stared at the gold medal for a split second. A couple of soldiers marched past and he returned their acknowledgement.
“Perhaps if you will join me in my office?” he said and waited for her to precede him.
The door closed behind them and she turned to him, and swallowed.
Any chance you could put on a shirt?
“You are uncomfortable wearing it?”
What? Oh.
“No, General, but with all due respect, I don’t think anyone’s going to mistake me for anything other than what I am.” She placed the medal on his desk.
His steady regard held her for a long while.
“Thank you for your consideration,” she said, “I am very grateful for your care.”
He seemed to ease, relax a trifle, then said, “You are more than welcome, Sandrea. I wonder, would you care-”
“General Mhartak?” Lieutenant Graegen’s voice emitted from the audio system.
His mouth clamped together and a muscle flexed in his jaw.
“Yes, Lieutenant, what is it?”
“Could I speak to you for a moment regarding that report you requested?”
What had Eugen been going to ask? Would I care to . . . what?
Sandrea sat on the end of her bed turning her comb over and over in her hands. Her stomach grumbled at something she’d eaten at dinner.
He’d seemed so serious.
Her door chimes rang. She sighed at the unsolved puzzle, placed the comb on the small table, and walked to the door.
“Eugen!”
He gazed down at her with solemn eyes.
“May I come in?”
She stood aside for him. “What can I do for you?”
His gaze landed on the comb and remained fixed. He placed the tip of one finger on it.
“You . . . like the comb?”
“I do, very much. Do I have you to thank?”
He shrugged. “It seemed the very least I could do.” He paused for a long moment then swung suddenly towards her. His intense, green gaze caught her, held her.
Warm pressure massaged her fingers.
When did he take my hands in his?
One of his hands reached up and threaded a tress of her hair through his thumb and forefinger. The muscles of his throat worked.
“Do I . . . trespass?” he asked.
Warmth from his closeness washed over her. The fresh, woodsy, cedar and citrus scent of him wrapped around her senses.
Did he what?
“Oh. Ah, no, Eugen.”
He smiled. A hand drifted down her back, landed on her waist.
Is it getting hot in here?
He leaned closer, applied slight pressure to her back. She lifted her hands and rested them on his chest. With lush joy her palms and fingers absorbed the heat radiating through his shirt. Sensual tingles tripped down her arms.
“Do I trespass?”
His nostrils flared and his broad chest expanded.
“You do not.”
He released her hair and cupped long fingers along her chin. His thumb smoothed a gentle caress over her cheek. Her skin traced his touch with greedy, heightened awareness.
“I would be honoured if you would consider me your . . . friend.” His deep voice entranced her senses. “Someone to turn to, to rely upon, to help you adjust.”
Her body begged to lean into his. She denied it.
Don’t read too much into this.
She’d been a good distraction from work, remember? This might just be how Angrigan friends relate to each other.
“Thank you, I appreciate that.”
The wind of his long sigh brushed her neck.
“Very well.” He took another huge breath and closed his eyes.
She gazed at the wild beauty of his face.
Have I jumped off the deep end?
Her breasts ached for those big hands to cradle them again, for his mouth to explore their sensitive contours with wet, sucking caresses. How could she display apparent sanity after experiencing several mind-breaking events and then, given half a chance, want to tear the clothes off an alien she’d taken a fancy to?
Maybe she was mad. Maybe the only way she could survive out here was to entertain a kind of mad sanity.
His lids lifted, the message in his eyes warm, and then he smiled. Her heart did a crazy jig about her chest.
“I apologize for interrupting,” he said.
“I wasn’t doing anything.”
“No?” The hand cupping her jaw moved and he traced a long finger down her nose.
“No. You didn’t interrupt, the pleasure is mine.”
He gazed into her eyes and her body sang the hallelujah chorus.
“I believe Private Shrenkner is accompanying you to the mines tomorrow?”
“Yes, I’m looking forward to that.”
“They are very beautiful.” He crooked a finger under her chin and gently tilted her head. “Do as she says.”
What?
She tried to suppress the embarrassed blush rising up her throat. Here she thought he’d been going to make some reference to her being beautiful.
“Oh, er, of course.”
He nodded. “You have agreed to educate us in your language, yes?”
“I have.”
“Do not tax your—”
“Eugen, I’ll start climbing the walls soon if I don’t keep myself active.”
His head tilted to one side as though a little nonplussed, then his expression cleared.
“Very well.” He cast a long, speculative glance at her bed. “I’m sure you long for the ease of your couch.”
What is he thinking?
He released her face, raised one of her hands and pressed a warm kiss to her wrist. Her pulse leapt to his touch.
“Good night, sleep well.”
After that look and the feel of your lips on my skin? You’re kidding!
Mhartak entered his quarters and stood motionless in the semi-dark, staring at a wall. He could still feel the warm flush of Sandrea’s breath at the base of his neck and the way, under his hand, the small of her back curved to her waist. His muscles ached from exercising every ounce of restraint he possessed to not pull her to him. To not crush the lush fullness of her breasts to the hardness of his chest. To not rip the clothes from her body and satisfy the roaring throb of his desire.
He dropped his chin to his chest and breathed out a long sigh.
She had accepted his offer of friendship.
Was that why she’d allowed his familiar touch? Or was it simple curiosity on her part? Perhaps even a means of protection, a sensible bid to align herself with someone of powerful standing? Had the acceptance of his touch been of any consequence to her at all?
He shook his head. Did his form hold any sexual appeal for her whatsoever? How could he attract her interest? What courtship rituals did human males perform?
He clung to the knowledge she had not rejected him.
And at least he could take comfort that for once he had left her in a calm state of mind.
Gleaming like pure light, huge clusters of enormous polygonal, crystalline shafts flooded the crystal mine chamber with the surreal beauty of amber radiance. Sandrea lost herself in its inherent magic.
“There are more through here,” Shrenkner murmured and moved away.
She followed, weaving through supporting pillars carved from the housing rock, avoiding workers rushing to and fro as she walked into lavender light. Almost an entire wall glowed in amethyst splendour.
Oh my glorious God.
Shrenkner took her through five more chambers before sheer geological magnificence overwhelmed her. She dropped to the rock floor and leaned her back into a rose coloured nodule the size of a small car.
“This is truly incredible, Shrenk’,” she said. “Thank you so much for inviting me.”
“My name is Shrenkner,” the soldier corrected politely.
Ah-huh.
“You don’t go for nicknames?”
Shrenkner frowned. “No one has before.”
Not surprising.
“Do you mind?”
She almost gaped as the other woman smiled.
“Actually, no.”
“Great.”
A breath of wind brushed her face. A horrifying odour slid into her nostrils. Alarm lifted her upright.
“Shrenk’?” she hissed.
“Yes, Sandrea?”
“Should I be able to smell Bluthen here?”
“What?”
“I can smell Bluthen here.”
“You’re joking with me.”
“No, I’m not.” She emphasized her denial with a vehement shake of her head. “Can’t you smell them?”
“No, I can’t. You’re sure?”
She sent the private a you-don’t-think-I’d-be anything-less-than-intensely-serious-about-that-subject-do-you? look.
Shrenkner pulled a medical scanner from her fatigues and waved it in her direction.
“What are you scanning me for?”
“I’m not.”
Cold slithered along her fear receptors.
“Can you tell where they are?” Shrenkner asked.
“Only in a general sense. I wouldn’t be able to pinpoint any without being obvious about it.”
She pictured herself getting close to the personnel here and sniffing them.
Yeah, that’d work so well.
“Well, don’t. We’ll get out of here and advise base.”
Anxiety and adrenaline combined in a spirited attempt to incite her feet into running. She forced control and held her pace to Shrenkner’s as they made their way with as much outward composure as possible toward the entrance. Shrenkner halted and surveyed the parking area. Sandrea peered around her.
Fear enhanced the smell of Bluthen to permeate the entire complex.
“My mother gave me four very useful pieces of advice,” she said. “Always wear clean underwear, always wash behind your ears, always know when to walk away and—”
“Always know when to get in the nearest fast transport and withdraw rapidly,” Shrenkner completed.
“Yep.”
“My mother gave me much the same advice, except for the ears.”
“After you then.”
They set a brisk pace to the ATVEH they’d come in, scrambled inside, and accelerated away.
Sandrea flicked a glance at the now helmeted Shrenkner. “You going to drive by Braille?”
“What?”
“You haven’t got the headlights on.”
“No, I’m using night-vision.” Shrenkner steered the speeding vehicle through the night. She muttered, growled, then punched the console. “Something’s wrong.”
Oh yeah, on top of what we already know?
“What?”
“Communications are being jammed. I’ve tried to raise the base, but they’re not responding.”
Chapter 5
Holding Her Own
A dark cloud of foreboding mushroomed in Sandrea’s mind. She clung to the seat as the ATVEH flew over low rises and pulled positive G’s in dips.
“Dammit!” Shrenkner smacked the wheel. “Can’t this thing go any faster? We’ve got to warn the base.”
A great, booming thump thundered through the air. Across their forward port quarter, a huge bolt of light speared towards the barracks and exploded in a ball of light.
It appeared to be on target.
Sandrea stared in horror at the orange flames bright against the night. Her heart slammed into her gut.
Eugen!
“Where the hell did that come from?” Shrenkner demanded, a slight tremor in her voice.
Another volley blasted across the night sky. Sandrea twisted in her seat and pointed to a low hill backlit by faint, blue planet-light. “Over there.”
Shrenkner spun the wheel and Sandrea clung to whatever she could as the vehicle bumped over rocks and slewed sideways over loose gravel.
Great. Now we’re heading towards the bloody thing.
The light exploded again and she tried to ignore the deep, almost familiar fear that shadowed the sound.
“What is that?” she asked.
“Laser cannon.”
The gun picked up its pace and sent bolt after bolt into the base. Dread dug brutal fingers into her heart.
Eugen’s caught in that.
“Can they keep that up for long?”
“Depends, the way they’re firing they’ll have to stop to let it recharge soon.”
The ATVEH slowed and they coasted to a halt on the opposite side of the hill to the weapon.
“We’re stopping?”
“This is where the cannon is.”
“My point exactly!”
“I cannot allow this weapon to continue its assault on the barracks,” Shrenkner threw over her shoulder as she leapt from the vehicle.
Sandrea scrambled out and followed her to the ATVEH’s rear. An ominous quiet settled on the night.
“They’re recharging.” Shrenkner opened a panel and snatched out a gun.
“But you’re a medic. Besides, won’t the barracks retaliate?”
“I’m also a soldier and right now this place needs an Alliance soldier. It’s altogether probable that first volley took out the primary armament generator or the base would have returned fire by now. Either that, or they have a larger threat to contend with. Bluthen do not operate in this manner. They’ve planned something larger than just this cannon assault, you can be sure of it. Whatever—”
Another roar of the gun reverberated through the air and felt like a punch to Sandrea’s skull.
“Whatever ordnance the base has left,” Shrenkner continued, “will be required fully for its defence. If I take this gun out of commission it will increase our chances of not becoming Bluthen bait.”
“Right then,” she muttered, “what’s our plan?”
“You can’t come!”
“Why? I’m not invited?”
“General Mhartak would have me skinned if he discovered I’d taken you directly into action.”
“Then we won’t tell him.”
Shrenkner hesitated.
“If you think I’m going to wait down here by myself until one of them shows up, you’ve got another think coming.”
“Fine.” Shrenkner strapped on ammunition. “Just stay out of the way.”
“Count on it. Do you think they saw or heard us?”
“The Bluthen manning the cannon? I doubt it.” Grim satisfaction coloured the soldier’s tone.
Great. “Why?”
“Because they’d have fired on us if they’d detected us.”
Hmpf.
“They’ll be vigilant,” Shrenkner continued, “and if they’ve got movement sensors, they’ll be making efficient use of them.”
The cannon discharged again. Sandrea gritted her teeth and curled her fingers tight into her palms.
“How close can we get before being detected?”
“About twenty meters.”
Wonderful. “How many Bluthen can we expect?”
“I don’t know. The normal complement for a gun such as this would be ten. I think there will be less because this is obviously a covert operation.�
��
She caught a short rifle Shrenkner threw at her and regarded it doubtfully.
“I don’t think I could kill anyone. Besides, I wouldn’t know how.”
“Flick this switch here to take the safety off.” Shrenkner indicated a button. “Then point and pull the trigger. This is for your protection only. I’ll do the killing.”
“Be my guest,” she muttered.
Shrenkner leaned over and fitted a pair of goggles to her head. Her vision turned blue and black. She followed the soldier up the hill, threading between the black silhouettes of boulders. Their proximity to the thump of the big gun as it fired speared a shower of terror across her nerves. Memories provoked by the noise tried to surface. Her mind pushed them back, but the associated horror continued to crawl across her nerves.
She moved closer to Shrenkner.
Near the crest, Shrenkner came to an abrupt halted. Sandrea peered around her. Three blobs of blue became dominant in her bicolour vision. Shrenkner shoved her behind a boulder, then adamantly pointed to the ground. Sandrea obeyed, sinking to her haunches, her eyes following the soldier as she crouched low and disappeared between the rocks.
The harsh report of the laser cannon blasted her ears and intense light blued out her goggles. She ripped them off and leaned back against the rock. A familiar odour sent her sprinting pulse into overdrive. Her breath shortened, her hands shook. She gripped the gun tighter and flicked off the safety. Gravel crunched beneath boots. The stench of Bluthen invaded her senses.
She shrank into the dark and raised her weapon. A figure loomed before her. The cannon let loose another volley, its flash illuminated the area. Sandrea gasped. Absolute recognition of the being before her flashed through her brain.
The punching memory of pain and anguish turned her defence into a savage attack.
When an explosion rocked the base, General Mhartak slammed the alarm that would send all base personnel and those on the orbiting fleet to battle stations.
He knew the sound and effects of a laser cannon only too well. He was demanding a status report over the comm when the second hit came.
“Say again, Lieutenant,” he requested after the commotion rattled away.
Alien, Mine Page 7