They’d climbed from the ship’s hold through engineering, and she’d made her way to the next deck. Angel’s mind was full of the problem of taking the Raven off Dakmar when she strode onto her bridge and almost dropped Lion.
Stars. She barely recognized the ship she’d retrofitted by hand when she’d left Earth almost a decade ago.
If Lion hadn’t greeted her, if Petroy hadn’t been on the bridge, if she hadn’t just strode down familiar passages, she would have thought that the sanitation device had delivered them to the wrong ship. Her old and reliable vidscreen was gone, replaced by a new and unaffordable model. Her com station had had a total upgrade, and the same went for weapons, engineering, and navigation. Her old gray bendar ship sparkled and shimmered as if it had a new coating, some kind of peculiar force field spread along the interior walls, ceiling, and floor.
A man’s voice she didn’t recognize greeted her. “Welcome aboard, Captain.”
“Who the hell are you?” Angel spun, searching for a new crew member. But only Kirek and Petroy were on the bridge. Lion hissed and jumped from her arms, the fur on his back raising before he sprinted away. Smart animal.
“I’m Ranth, your new computer system.”
“I didn’t order a new computer system. Or new nav and com controls.” Head reeling from the unauthorized alterations—especially the new technology she didn’t understand—she turned and glared at Petroy. “I could barely afford fuel and the engine overhaul. How did this happen?”
Petroy frowned and met her gaze, but his voice remained cheerful. “Captain, I merely followed your requisition requests.”
“Who paid for this?” she demanded.
“You did,” Petroy replied, his gaze puzzled.
Stars. She hadn’t the funds for a ship of this caliber. She doubted anyone did. Either the computer had mixed up her order with a military or government vessel or … there had been some other huge mistake. Even if the old systems hadn’t been scrapped, now with the botcops and Kraj after them, she didn’t have the time to spend in dry dock to take out the new systems and put back in the old ones—or have the credits to put everything right.
She didn’t understand how even a computer foul-up could have created such a disaster. Because the funds simply weren’t … or were they?
She fought past her shock and spun around to face Kirek. He met her gaze, nodded at her suspicion.
And then she knew.
Kirek had taken care of the overhaul. Kirek had gone into the computer and altered her orders. Kirek had done this to the Raven.
Her rage boiled over. This was her ship. Her home. And he’d changed every system without telling her. How dare he put her in debt? How dare he go behind her back and counter her orders? Fury so white-hot that she could barely see caused her to have trouble speaking and breathing. “You … you did all this to my ship?”
He kept his tone calm and even. “We can’t go after the Zin without every advantage at our disposal.”
She’d be in debt for ten lifetimes—even with a lifetime one thousand years long, thanks to the life-extending properties of the suit. She closed her eyes and reopened them, hoping it was all a dream. But the shiny new instrumentation mocked her. “How … much … do I owe?”
“Consider the alterations payment for my passage.”
Her eyes narrowed, her temper so out of control, she shook with the need to slap him. “We already agreed that the Zin salvage would pay for your passage.”
“Then consider the ship’s overhaul advance payment from a grateful Federation for your help.”
He was lying to her. Again. Damn the man. “The Federation paid you to overhaul my ship? I don’t think so.”
“It’s a … bonus.”
“A bonus.” How dare he counter her orders, lie to her, and betray her like this? She felt like a fool. Because the ship was a dream. The best and latest equipment. He’d spared no expense. She’d never seen such advanced technology. The force field on the inside walls baffled her, and she had no conception of the new computer’s capabilities.
No one could accept a gift like this without there being strings and consequences attached. Without her knowledge or permission, he’d changed the balance in their relationship. He’d paid for the upgrades, and sure he could say she didn’t owe him—just like the neighbors and family who had given her mother charity always said they didn’t owe anything, either. Each time Angel had taken charity, she’d lost a piece of herself. She’d had to be grateful to people she didn’t necessarily like. She’d had to adjust her behavior to what they found acceptable. She’d been forced to be something she wasn’t.
Nothing was free. She’d learned that as a child. Charity came with expectations—ones she might not wish to fulfill.
When she’d left Earth, she’d vowed never again. Now Kirek had gone behind her back and placed her in debt up to her eyeballs for technology she’d neither wanted nor understood. The debt might not be in credits, but it was there. Even if he never collected the debt, she would carry it with her until she paid back every credit—an absolutely impossible task.
She wanted to order Kirek off her ship. She wanted to tell him to take it all back. She wanted to pound her fists on his chest and swear at him.
Her mind spun, and she couldn’t think past her outrage. Her stomach churned, and acid rose up her throat to choke her. Her eyes burned hot—but tears didn’t come. She was too hurt to cry, too stunned to think beyond how vulnerable she now felt. She’d always avoided debt, and she didn’t want to owe this man who had such strong feelings for her.
Never since her childhood had she felt so trapped.
After years of freedom and happy adventures on this bridge, the Raven’s walls seemed to close in on her. She no longer felt as if the ship was hers. She didn’t know how fast it could go. She didn’t know how the computer worked, but suspected it was one of the latest models that came with a complete personality and a living neural network.
Her entire world had spun totally out of control. She was the captain of a ship that possessed technology she couldn’t maintain or repair due to lack of knowledge and funds. Now she was supposed to take them all onto a mission to another galaxy when she didn’t even know how to start the engines?
Her fingers itched to draw her blaster and shoot him. She wouldn’t, of course. But at the moment, she wished they’d never met.
Damn him. How the hell had she let Kirek do this to her?
Chapter Sixteen
“CAPTAIN TAYLOR.” Ranth’s smoothly modulated voice startled her. Angel wasn’t accustomed to a computer speaking on her bridge, never mind interrupting the conversation. “The Kraj and botcops have discovered your escape route into the mag system. They’ve also found vidrecordings of you and Kirek in the restaurant. Soon they will extrapolate from this data that you are aboard the Raven. I would advise we depart.”
“So now you’re giving me advice?” Angel’s mind worked at warp speed. She had no idea how Ranth knew what he did, but clearly he’d tied into local botcop communications—which wasn’t legal. The computer’s vast resources excited her but also sent a shiver of apprehension down her spine. Having a sophisticated machine that she didn’t trust feeding her data and running her ship made her distinctly uncomfortable. However, that discomfort didn’t stop her from seeing marvelous possibilities—ones that might save their lives.
“My function is to advise and aide your mission,” Ranth stated.
Angel was certain that Kirek had programmed the computer’s mission and that made her more uneasy. “Our landing gear is locked. We can’t leave.”
“My new technology will allow us to break the locks,” Ranth disagreed.
“Do it.”
“Compliance.”
“Landing gear is free,” Petroy confirmed. “The gear contracted, and the locks fell off.”
Angel should have felt relief, but instead her suspicions increased. “Who’s in change of this ship?” Angel asked Ranth.
&n
bsp; “Angel Taylor is the Raven’s captain.”
“Suppose Kirek countermands my orders?” Angel asked, without expecting an answer. Her question was complicated by protocol, and most computers would simply ignore it. But apparently Ranth followed human syntax and could infer her meaning in a human-like manner.
“My ethics program allows me to decide what to do. For example if the captain orders me to self-destruct—for no logical reason—and if Kirek countermands your order, I would obey him.”
Wow. Not only had the computer not avoided answering, as she had expected, it had given her an example. Despite her mistrust, she was growing to like Ranth the more she knew about him.
“Can I lock Kirek out of your systems?” she asked.
“No, Captain.”
“Why not?” She glared at Kirek who shrugged.
“Kirek has the ability to override even my program and will with his psi. No computer specialist has yet figured a way to stop him, but my experience has shown that he won’t interfere unless the mission or lives are in jeopardy.”
“How comforting.” She scowled at Kirek, who had had the good sense to remain silent, but she was far from over her anger. Obviously Ranth and Kirek had a history, and she suspected they’d gone on other missions together. That didn’t mean she had to accept his interference. She continued to glare at Kirek. “Get off my bridge.”
“You need me.” Kirek didn’t budge and spoke softly, but she heard the grave edge of determination in his tone. “I know how to run the special technology on this ship.”
“Terrific. You alter the technology then tell me I need you to run it?” Angel supposed she could use Ranth to teach her the Raven’s new capabilities, but even she could see beyond her anger and realized that escape from the Kraj was the first priority. “Ranth, start engines, get us far enough out of Dakmar space to jump to hyperdrive.” She scowled at Kirek. “We still have a hyperdrive?”
He nodded and changed the subject. “Captain, I’d like your permission to send an encrypted message to Numan.”
Encrypted? Angel supposed that meant the Kraj couldn’t track their communications, which was another useful tool and a very expensive gadget that Kirek had added, which only served to increase her anger all over again. Her debt reminded her of Kirek’s lack of trust in her. She also wondered what would happen if she refused his “request” and suspected he’d send the message anyway. “What kind of message?”
“I’d like to cut time off our journey.”
“How?”
“I’ll arrange to purchase the reader as well as for a ship to transport it to meet us halfway.”
“Fine.” She might be furious with Kirek, but she wouldn’t shoot down a good idea just because of her seething emotions. Just because she was still shaking with the need to scream at him and pound the walls with her fists. Just because she knew that their personal relationship was over.
Done.
He’d lied to her because he hadn’t trusted her enough to talk about the Raven’s upgrades, and he’d ruined their fling, squashing any chance for enjoying the mission in his arms. She shuddered, wondering how anyone so likeable could be so secretive, so insensitive. He couldn’t have wounded her more if he’d stolen her ship and shot her. Pain radiated out of every tense nerve and pounded her brain. Her head ached, and her stomach twisted with nausea.
Petroy stared at his vidscreen. “Captain, the Dakmar officials are refusing to give us permission to depart.”
“Damn.” Angel wondered if they’d have to shoot their way free and was about to punch up their weapons’ capability when the computer made a suggestion, startling her once again.
“Do you wish the Raven to employ shapeshifting mode?” Ranth asked.
“Shapeshifting mode?” She’d never heard of such a thing but suspected that the new modification had a lot to do with the shimmering bendar walls.
“I can change the Raven’s hull shape so it will appear to the officials that we are a transport ship—one that has permission to depart.”
“Do it.” Angel hung onto her console as before her eyes, the hull expanded, as if it were a balloon taking in more air. The bridge lengthened, widened, and deepened, tripling in volume.
“Captain, isn’t this new technology amazing?” Petroy’s face glowed with excitement.
“Amazing,” she repeated, her mind trying to take it all in and failing. She’d thought the shielding would reflect a new size on only the Dakmar officials’ vidscreens. She didn’t expect the Raven’s hull to actually change shape and enlarge, which it did until her ship was three to four times larger than the original.
“Ranth, do we have permission to leave?” Angel asked as she strode around her new bridge, trying to take in the ambiance. “What are these new stations for?” The Raven now possessed several consoles whose purpose she didn’t even recognize. Obviously, she had room for more crew to run the new technology, but since she hadn’t known about the changes, she hadn’t thought to take on crew for tasks she was ignorant about.
“The authorities are arguing with the Kraj,” Ranth told her. “The Kraj are asking them to stop all ships from leaving until you are caught.”
“You’re intercepting Kraj transmissions?” she asked.
“Affirmative.”
“Can you make the Dakmar authorities believe that the Kraj have changed their minds and are allowing us to leave?”
Looking relieved at her question, Kirek moved in front of one of the new consoles. His hands danced over the controls. “I’ll take care of it.”
No doubt he’d wanted to make the suggestion several minutes ago but had restrained himself from taking over, likely sensing she couldn’t have coped with more insubordination, disobedience—defiance? She didn’t even know the right words for what he’d done. The irony was that she trusted no one at those new controls more than Kirek. Kirek would get them out of here because his mission required it. Stars help her if she ever stood between him and his mission, because he could be secretive and ruthless when necessary. But he wrapped those traits in a man who at first and second and maybe even third glance, seemed easygoing and laid-back. It was still hard for her to believe that the same man who had made love to her with such gentleness and sensitivity could have gone behind her back and stomped all over her trust.
“The consoles have many purposes,” Ranth explained. “They allow access to my new systems, the shapeshifting mode, the new weapons, and a tracking system for inventory.”
“Inventory?”
“The cargo hold is full.”
The Raven didn’t have a cargo hold. Or it hadn’t until Kirek had … She called up the cargo manifest on her vidscreen and bit back a gasp. Their entrance through engineering had bypassed the cargo bay which now held spare parts, spare engines, tools of every kind and description, welding machines, spacesuits, extra shuttles, enough food for years, entertainment for children and babies … What was Kirek thinking? In the last hour he’d thrown shock after shock at her, but of one thing she was certain: There would be no babies on the Raven.
“It appears as if this mission is to colonize the Andromeda Galaxy, not fight the Zin.”
Kirek appeared to be in deep communication, but he heard her and broke off from his work. “I like to be prepared.”
“For children?”
He shrugged. “When Tessa and Kahn lived on Rystan, they didn’t know the Endekians would invade and force them to abandon in a ship—the one I was born on. My mother told me there were no toys.”
“Even I know a baby doesn’t need toys,” she snapped.
“We brought every child we could save with us.” His voice filled with pain, as if he remembered crying children, worried parents, and the catastrophe that had caused his parents to lose their home world—but he’d only been a baby. Could his mind have already been so developed as an infant that he possessed genuine memories?
At the time, the Rystani had believed their world had been invaded by the Endekians who want
ed glow stones, a natural atomic rock indigenous to Rystan. What they found out over a decade later was that the Zin had opened a wormhole to Endeki, and the only way to stop the Zin from sending a deadly virus through the wormhole had been to use Rystani glow stones to blow it up.
So the Zin had cost him his homeland. The Zin were the reason Kirek had been born in hyperspace. The Zin were responsible for Kirek’s being caught in a blast to protect Earth that had robbed him of the use of his body for almost a decade. Now the Zin had destroyed the Federation capital planet Zenon, killing billions.
She supposed that her beef with him seemed petty in comparison. Yet, she could no more stop her feelings of betrayal than she could have talked him out of his mission. He’d hurt her because of who he was and who she was. While she understood on a logical level that saving the galaxy from the Zin was more important than his being honest with her, on an emotional level she held back disappointment and anger.
“We have permission to leave.” Kirek’s tone was official and cool, as if knowing that one more surprise might cause her to unleash her rage.
“Take us out of here,” Angel ordered Petroy.
“I’ve purchased the reader,” Kirek informed them, and she realized he’d been simultaneously speaking to her, changing the Kraj communications, and continuing to maintain contact with Numan, all without showing any strain.
“That was fast work,” Angel muttered.
“More like hyperspeed,” Petroy added.
“He probably paid ten times too much for the reader,” Angel speculated.
Kirek sighed, his tone defensive and irritated. “I can’t worry about saving a few credits when we must focus on the Zin.”
Angel folded her arms across her chest. “You never told me how you earned the credits to pay for renovating my ship.”
“Tessa shares her wealth.”
“So you were born with a giant trust fund?” Angel asked.
Rystani Warrior 04 - The Quest Page 20