Bonded in Space

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Bonded in Space Page 11

by Trisha McNary


  He’s an adolescent like me, M. Mort thought. But he’ll be an adult in a few months, and I won’t be one for three hundred years.

  “Do you want to ride in my pocket?” M. Mort asked him.

  Murrie still fit in M. Mort’s pocket, but he wouldn’t for long.

  “No thanks,” said Murrie.

  “Prepare to break from warp space on my command,” said Captain Kamphone. “Three, two, one, now!”

  Long green six-fingered hands flew across keys on consoles in front of the strapped-in Verdante crew members. All except M. Mort’s. As a new private, he wasn’t tasked with flying and operating the ship. But that was OK. He was just glad they’d allowed him to come along. And soon, hopefully, they would rescue Pweet from the Woogahs.

  The Jalapeno slid out of warp space, and Murrie floated up in the air. He did some flips and somersaults, then started soaring around over their heads.

  “Oh yeah! Oh yeah!” M. Mort heard him say mentally.

  After three months with Murrie, he could understand the small cat’s telepathic speech a lot better than when they first met. And that was important. Because when M. Mort and the others could understand Murrie, they’d found out that he had been with Pweet when the Woogah slaver arrived and took her away. They knew they were on the right track, and they knew exactly who had her.

  “Private Mort,” the captain addressed him.

  “Yes, captain?” M. Mort answered.

  With steely ice-green eyes, Captain Kamphone looked down at M. Mort from his taller height even while seated.

  “Do you remember when I asked you if you would follow orders, and you said you would?” the captain asked?

  “Yes, I remember,” said M. Mort.

  “It’s time to talk about that now,” said the captain.

  There was complete telepathic silence on the bridge. Everyone’s focus was on this conversation. Even Murrie stopped flying around in zero g and floated over near M. Mort.

  Captain Kamphone continued. “We’re about to arrive at a medical facility on the Woogah planet. That’s where this slave hunter is most likely to take Pweet first.”

  “Oh?” said M. Mort. “Why is that?”

  “Well, this is the part you’re likely to get upset about. One of the parts, anyway,” said the captain. “From what we’ve observed, these hunters take the females they’ve captured to this facility to have them genetically altered.”

  “What!” M. Mort and Murrie both shouted at the same time.

  “Privates!” said the captain in a stern mental voice. “Are you going to listen to me, or are you going to make me regret that I brought you along?”

  “I’m sorry,” said M. Mort. “Please continue. I won’t interrupt again.”

  “Sorry,” said Murrie.

  He floated over to M. Mort and climbed into his pocket. With his head and upper paws sticking out, he looked at the captain.

  “Thank you,” said Captain Kamphone. “Now to continue. The Woogahs perform genetic alteration on these females to make them more useful and valuable as slaves. They give them more physical strength and longer lifespans, and they increase their telepathic abilities.”

  “Well, that doesn’t sound terrible,” said M. Mort.

  “No. It’s not terrible, and it doesn’t harm them as far as we know, but you probably wouldn’t like the way they get it done. I’m not going to explain that now. It’s enough to say that we Verdantes don’t approve of this type of alteration. However, at this point, there’s nothing we can do to stop it.”

  “Why not?” asked Murrie telepathically from M. Mort’s pocket.

  “Because that medical building is too heavily protected, little cat,” said the captain. “There’d be nothing left of the Jalapeno but a pile of dust if we tried to get through their force fields. That’s why we need to wait till they take Pweet to the work plant. Unless things have changed, the plant we think they’ll take her to has pretty low-tech shields. We can take them down and put them back up when we need to. And small animals can get through without any harm or detection.”

  “What? Are you planning to send Murrie in there?” asked M. Mort. “He’s too little. He might get hurt.”

  “No, I’m not too little,” said Murrie.

  “Well, that’s one possible plan,” said the captain. “That’s how we got those females out last time.”

  “That’s why I told you a cat did most of the work, remember?” Lieutenant XoXo asked M. Mort.

  M. Mort patted Murrie on his fuzzy head.

  “Yeah, but you didn’t tell me it might be dangerous for this little guy,” he said.

  “I’m not little,” said Murrie.

  “You’re right. It could be dangerous. We won’t expect Murrie to go in there if he doesn’t want to.”

  “I’m going in,” said Murrie. “That’s final. I’m going in to save Pweet.”

  M. Mort sighed. “Maybe I should go in?” he suggested.

  “No. That won’t work,” said the captain. “For one thing, it’s against galactic law for any of us to step foot on that planet. That’s why we always hover the ship a few feet off the ground. None of us Verdantes can leave this ship, or we’ll all end up in a Woogah jail cell if they don’t blast us to space dust first.”

  “Wow! This is tough!” said M. Mort.

  “I can do it,” said Murrie from his pocket.

  “We can make the final decision when the time comes,” said Captain Kamphone. “Meanwhile, we expect that Woogah ship to break out of warp space soon and head down here. And I want to make sure you two privates aren’t going to try any heroics like trying to leave the ship and getting yourselves and the rest of us killed by trying to go in there.”

  “I won’t,” said M. Mort.

  “Promise,” said Murrie.

  “Are you sure they’ll come here and not somewhere else?” M. Mort asked.

  “We’re almost certain,” said Lieutenant XoXo. “But no, we can’t know that one hundred percent for sure. He could have other plans we don’t know about.”

  Murrie spoke up again. “Nope. They’re coming this way. They’ll be dropping out of warp space in about ten hours.”

  The captain turned his steely gaze on Murrie.

  “How do you know that, Private Murrie?” he asked.

  “Because I’m a cat,” said Murrie. “Cats know things. I know a lot of things.”

  “Really,” said Captain Kamphone.

  He leaned forward in his chair and fixed Murrie with an intense stare.

  “What else do you know, little cat?” the captain asked.

  “Nope. Un uh. Not telling,” said Murrie. “Sorry. Cats only tell you what they want you to know.”

  The captain was silent for a few moments.

  Is he mad? Will he kick us both off the ship now? M. Mort worried.

  Then the captain burst out in loud mental laughter. The other crew members started laughing too. M. Mort let out a nervous chuckle. It was the first time M. Mort had heard these stern people laugh like that, especially the captain.

  After a minute, they all stopped laughing, but their eyes were crinkled up in the Verdante expression of amusement.

  “OK. That’s fine,” the captain said to M. Murrie. “I’ll be happy to have whatever intel you want to give me. We’re glad to have you aboard. Glad to have you both aboard.”

  “Yes. That’s right. Very glad,” the rest of the crew members spoke up all at once.

  M. Mort let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. I hope it will stay that way, he thought.

  Ten hours later, the stealth-cloaked Jalapeno floated a few feet above the ground of the Woogah planet. The Jalapeno’s view screens showed the squat building close by. It was surrounded by force fields that were also invisible but were displayed as an orange glow on the screens. Other screens monitored the sky above the atmosphere. The crew, including Murrie, watched the screens and waited.

  The Jalapeno’s equipment beeped, and on one of the scree
ns, a tiny triangular dot appeared. Lieutenant Sosha reached for the controls. The light green-haired Verdante woman enlarged the dot to show a silver wedge.

  “Captain! A Woogah flyer just appeared on screen. Looks like it’s heading our way,” said Lieutenant Sosha.

  “Private Murrie,” the captain addressed him. “Is that the ship we’re waiting for?”

  “That’s it,” said Murrie.

  “OK. Crew keep monitoring but take no action. Thank you, private,” the captain said to Murrie.

  Murrie floated above Sosha’s shoulder near the view screen to watch the approaching ship. She reached up a six-fingered green hand and ran it through his fluffy black fur. The other crew members pulled up the same view on two other screens.

  Captain Kamphone spoke again. “Lieutenant Dweeemm, prepare the visual sensors to view the inside of that building.”

  “Right away, captain. Same room as last time?” asked the younger male lieutenant.

  “Right,” said the captain. “Start with that one. You can adjust it if they go somewhere else.”

  The lieutenant’s green fingers typed on the console in front of him, and an empty room appeared up on his view screen. The sparse, ugly room contained only a bare metal table surrounded by cabinets and shelves holding strange apparatus.

  Murrie shuddered. It was an alien doctor’s office.

  “Private Murrie,” the captain spoke again. “The ship’s technology can show us what’s happening in there, and we can pick up sound. But we can’t hear what people are saying telepathically. The last time we were here, we had a cat on board who was a strong telepath. She was able to tell us what people were saying in there. Is that something you can do? Is that something you would be willing to do for us? We need to know as much as we can if we’re going to rescue your friend.”

  “Yeah, I can do that,” said Murrie. “That’s easy.”

  He wanted to say, “I can do anything that other cat can do,” but he didn’t.

  “That’s great,” said the captain. “That will be a big help, Private Murrie.”

  Sosha reached her hand back and petted Murrie again.

  He purred a little even though this was a tense moment. Then Murrie turned back to watch Lieutenant Sosha’s screen. The others sat in silence watching too. The Woogah ship’s descent took several hours. Once in a while, someone would get up and leave the room, then come back. A few words were spoken but not many.

  After a while, Murrie flew back over to M. Mort. The big alien was watching the screen too. Murrie could tell he was tense and unhappy. Cats can tell these things.

  He flew next to M. Mort’s head and whispered in a low telepathic voice so the others wouldn’t hear.

  “What’s wrong?” Murrie asked him.

  M. Mort turned his big green face toward Murrie.

  “I just feel useless,” said M. Mort. “You’re helping, and everyone else is helping, but I can’t do anything to help. I’m just sitting here watching. All I did was cause this mess.”

  “That’s not true,” said Murrie. “You helped a lot already. You’re the one who brought me here. And I’m the one who’s going to rescue Pweet. It couldn’t have happened without you. So you’re important. OK. Does that make you feel better?”

  M. Mort reached out a big green finger and scratched Murrie behind the ear.

  “That makes me feel a little better,” M. Mort said. “Thanks Murrie.”

  “You’re welcome,” said Murrie.

  He floated down and sat on M. Mort’s shoulder to keep him company for a while. To keep from floating away, Murrie dug his claws into the gray material of M. Mort’s ship suit. M. Mort wore the same uniform as the rest of the Jalapeno crew, but his uniform’s only decoration was the small insignia of the space ship. Murrie didn’t mind that he didn’t get a uniform.

  After a while, Murrie flew off M. Mort’s shoulder and back across the room to Lieutenant Sosha’s area. He stared at her screen and saw the wedge-shaped ship getting closer.

  “What’s the ETA for that ship reaching the surface, lieutenant?” the captain asked Sosha.

  “The instruments say it will reach the planet’s surface in fifty-five minutes,” Sosha answered.

  Floating in the air above her shoulder, Murrie flexed his claws and circled his front and back paws, running in place. Getting warmed up for action. He could sense Pweet in that ship. She was scared but determined about something.

  “I’m here,” Murrie said to Pweet telepathically.

  There was no answer back this time. Did she hear him? Sometimes humanoids heard but didn’t listen. Murrie knew that. He could sense that weird alien guy in the space ship too. The ship was coming. And Murrie would be ready for it.

  Chapter 20

  Woogah planet atmosphere…

  Pweet sat strapped down in her chair across from Marroo in his space ship. They both stared at the Woogah planet growing larger on his video screens. Finally, the planet was so near that all they could see was an expanse of barren land. A small building appeared and grew larger.

  “That’s the medical building we’re heading to,” Marroo told Pweet.

  She felt a chill but didn’t say anything. Then Pweet thought she heard the voice of the kitten, who said his name was Murrie, in her head again. And she thought she saw his furry face. But she didn’t try to say anything back. If she spoke telepathically, Marroo would hear and know she was telepathic.

  It’s not worth taking the chance of that happening. Especially since I’m probably just imagining it, she told herself.

  When the building was close, Marroo twisted his chair around to face his console. He typed fast. One view screen showed an orange glow surrounding the building like a dome. They approached the dome, and a clear circle opened up in the orange light, right in front of them. The space ship passed through and landed on the roof of the building.

  Marroo’s blue fingers typed again on his console, and real gravity returned. He unstrapped from his chair, stood up, and stretched big.

  “Ah! Woogah planet gravity!” Pweet heard him say telepathically.

  “We are here!” he said out loud to Pweet. “Soon your genetic enhancement will be complete, and you’ll start a new life! It’s fantastic.”

  Pweet heard Marroo continue to talk telepathically. “And then I’ll get on with my own life. I’ll hypnotize Pweet with my spell of love and finally experience the charms of an Earth woman. Then Antaska will be out of my system at last!”

  Pweet unstrapped from her chair and stood up too. But she didn’t share his view that things were fantastic.

  Am I making a big mistake by agreeing to this procedure? she wondered for the hundredth time. And for the hundredth time, she talked herself back into it. What other choice do I have? Alone on a planet with aliens who are stronger than me and stronger telepaths than me. I’ve studied everything I could about them, and this is the best thing I can do in this situation. I just wish that I’d took as much time to think about it before jumping on the space ship with this guy!

  Marroo reached inside a compartment and pulled out two dark cloaks. He handed one to Pweet.

  “Put this on. It’s chilly on my planet,” he said.

  “How considerate I’ve become,” Pweet heard him say telepathically. “I fear that this woman has changed me. Or is it Antaska who has changed me?”

  Still obsessed,” Pweet thought.

  She wrapped the long cloak around her shoulders and followed Marroo out of his space ship.

  Outside, it was cold. The planet’s two small blue suns gave off dim light but not much heat. Pweet closed the heavy cloak tight around her body. They stood on the flat roof waiting for a few moments. Then an opening appeared in the floor in front of them. It slid open to reveal a lit staircase. Pweet shivered from more than the cold.

  “After you,” Marroo said.

  He lifted an arm and gestured toward the opening. Pweet stepped forward and down onto the stairs. Marroo followed close behind her. She sens
ed the opening in the roof closing, but she didn’t look back.

  The bare stairwell’s plain walls emitted uniform but harsh bright light. After descending what seemed like several stories, the stairs ended. Pweet and Marroo stopped and waited in front of a doorway. But not for long.

  The door opened, and another blue-skinned Woogah man stood there dressed in gray medical scrubs. He gestured them in. This time, Pweet followed Marroo and the other man down an ugly hallway. A few plain doors without windows broke the otherwise empty long hall.

  The two aliens spoke to each other telepathically as they walked in front of her, and Pweet listened.

  “There’s something odd about this female,” the doctor said to Marroo. “She doesn’t seem to be hypnotized.”

  “That’s true. She’s not,” Marroo answered. “But she has agreed to the procedure. She’s from Earth. Her species is just becoming telepathic, but they’re very weak. That’s why I wasn’t able put her into a hypnotic trance. But I was still able to convince her that the procedure would benefit her.”

  “That’s most irregular,” said the doctor. “Are you sure she’s really telepathic? If not, the genetic alternation might not work as expected.”

  “Oh, I know she has some telepathic ability,” Marroo answered. “When I yell at her telepathically, she gets a terrible headache. That’s the first sign, as you know, of someone becoming telepathic. Unfortunately, she seems to be stuck at that stage. That’s why she needs this procedure. Once her telepathic powers are increased, I’ll be able to easily set the hypnotic spell on her.”

  “Maybe, maybe,” said the doctor. “But I’ll tell you up front that I won’t be able to guarantee anything. If she has limited or no telepathic abilities, the treatment might not work.”

  “It will work!” said Marroo. “I know it will. She’s from Earth like Antaska, the last one I brought here. It worked on her, and it will work on this one.”

  “Well, as I said,” the doctor repeated, “I will not guarantee the outcome. You’ll have to pay in advance. And because she isn’t under a hypnotic spell, there will be an extra charge for anesthesia. The procedure is too painful to perform while she’s fully conscious. Even if I tied her down and restrained her, I couldn’t stop her body from making any movements whatsoever. That would knock things around and interfere with the effectiveness of the work.”

 

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