by Kate Pearce
Closing his eyes, he sank to his knees and prayed desperately to his Gods.
Frey paused at the junction of the two passages and listened carefully. Something was moving around in the kitchen attached to the mess hall. Gripping her weapon tightly, she advanced toward the half-open door and peered into the darkness. A faucet dripped and somewhere Armstrong, the ship’s cat was purring.
Armstrong only purred when he was fed or he had company. There was another door that led out of the small galley kitchen back into the mess hall. It was possible that her Viking was either hiding in the galley, or had moved through into the next room.
She relaxed her psychic shields a little more and stifled a gasp. He was close, his thoughts a strange mixture of overwhelming fear and murderous intent. It made her want to find him and help him through this terrifying transition into a new and unfathomable world—if he didn’t kill her at first sight. In preparation for the trip, she’d read a lot about the Vikings and their reputation as fearless warriors and ruthless enemies.
And he wouldn’t be happy right now.
She forced herself to keep moving and entered the kitchen, inhaling its usual uneasy blend of cooking oil and harsh cleaning fluids. The door to the food storage unit was open and Frey hesitated outside it. The Viking wasn’t there. Considering the mess he’d left behind, he’d obviously been foraging for food. She could only imagine what he’d made of space rations.
She went onward, ignoring the cat, and headed back into the mess hall. The door was ajar. She crouched down to look through the small gap and immediately saw the silhouette of a man kneeling on the floor. The ground level security lighting was minimal, but she knew she wasn’t looking at a member of the crew. This man was too large and too different.
“Komdu hingað.”
She stiffened as a brusque command infiltrated her mind. The language was unknown. The compulsion to stand up and meet her fate was almost impossible to resist.
Readjusting her grip on her weapon, she pocketed it and drew out her FREN-authorized stun gun, making sure it was loaded and ready to rock. Getting to her feet, she pushed the door fully open and took one unsteady step forward.
The Viking turned his head toward her, and she caught a glimpse of sharp white teeth and a ferocious scowl. As he rose to a crouch, she pointed the stun gun at him and aimed at the place where his neck met his shoulder. The next few seconds were a blur as he lunged for her, knocking the gun from her hand. His fingers wrapped around her throat and she had no choice but to look at him.
“Hver ert þú?”
Frey tried to swallow. “I can’t understand you.”
He repeated the question, his mind echoing the same words.
“I don’t know, what you are saying. Let me help you, I can…”
“Frey? What’s going on?” Slavin’s voice cut across the Viking’s unintelligible answer.
“Can’t…” Frey was wheezing for breath now, unable to get through to the man squeezing the life out of her.
Security alarms blared, and with a snarl, the Viking dropped her to the floor and ran toward the door. The sound of running feet and a sudden yell reverberated down the hallway, and then Brown was by her side, his expression furious.
“Are you all right?” He hauled her onto a chair and held her steady as she gasped for breath. “What the hell happened, Tecky? Why didn’t you sound the alarm sooner?”
“Was trying to find the Viking, to see if he had really survived.” She coughed. “Was going to call for backup as soon as I’d verified that.”
She leaned back against the table as the mess hall filled with crew members in various states of undress and aggravation. Slavin arrived and came over to Frey.
“Are you okay? I thought you were going to die.”
Frey managed a shaky grin. “I’m fine, honestly.”
“Heeze…don’t ever do that to me again. I thought—”
Frey cut across her friend. “Can you sense the Viking? Telepathically I mean?”
“I’m not sure.” Slavin frowned. “There’s something there, but it’s very faint. Why, can you?”
“What the hell is going on here?”
Frey jumped as Captain Travis strode into the room.
“Turn off the alarms,” he barked at Brown. “What’s the situation, Tecky?”
Frey stood up, aware of Slavin at her shoulder, and faced the irate captain. “The Viking appears to be alive and somewhere on the ship, sir.”
Travis opened his mouth and then shut it again. “What?”
“I don’t know what happened, sir. I woke up early and decided to go down to the lab where I found Security Officer Prism dead and all three of the security doors blown apart.”
“So you’re suggesting our frozen cargo somehow managed to get himself out of a block of ice, kill one of my team and escape into the ship without anyone apart from you being fucking aware of it?” He glared at her. “Why didn’t you fucking sound the alarms the instant you realized Prism was dead? Why didn’t the alarms sound in the first place?”
Slavin cleared her throat. “FREN took responsibility for security in the lab. It’s highly probable that they disconnected the area from the main sensors.”
“Which still doesn’t explain why Tecky here didn’t raise the alarm herself.”
Frey met his enraged gaze. “Because I thought it was my responsibility to locate the Viking before I called in security.”
“And what the hell made you think that?”
Frey raised her chin. “My orders from FREN were to take control of the situation and direct others on the ship as I saw fit.”
“FREN told you that?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Fuck them. I’m captain of this ship until I’m told otherwise and you, Science Officer Frey, are suspended from duty while I find and catch this Viking and put him in a holding cell.”
“Sir, I have to warn you that he is bound to be confused about where he is. He doesn’t even speak our language.”
“I’m sure he’ll understand a gun pointed at his head.”
“No, sir he won’t. He’s never seen a gun before in his life.” Frey swallowed with some difficulty. It wasn’t in her nature to stand up to anyone in authority or create problems. “FREN have authorized me to deal with him. I would appreciate it if you let me carry out my orders. I—”
He cut her off with a decisive wave of his hand. “I’m the captain of this ship. You are confined to quarters. When I have the Viking in a controlled and secure environment, I will allow you to check him over and pass the information on to FREN.”
“But—” Frey took an impulsive step forward. Brown’s hand closed around her elbow and proved impossible to shake off. “Please, don’t kill him, Captain. Please let me deal with him. I have the necessary tools to sedate the male and to help him understand what we are saying to him.”
“Your observations and objections have been noted.” Captain Travis paused in the doorway to look back at her. “As I said, you can check him out when I’ve found him and prevented him from damaging my ship or killing any more of my crew.”
The remaining two security members followed the captain out, leaving Brown waiting patiently at Frey’s side. Frey turned to him.
“Please make sure Captain Travis checks his messages this morning. I’m fairly certain he will have heard from both FREN and the TSA about this situation and how I’m expected to deal with it.”
Brown lowered his voice. “He’s already checked his messages. That’s why he was delayed. He just doesn’t choose to acknowledge the orders.”
“But that’s…”
He gripped her elbow tighter. “Come on, Tecky. Let’s get you to medical to check out your throat and then back to your quarters.”
As she was marched along to the medical center, Frey’s mind was in turmoil. If Travis cornered the Viking and killed him, her career would be over and FREN would probably make sure no one on the ship ever went into space again in any capaci
ty. And the Viking would be dead, and that was unacceptable.
“What can I do to help, Frey?”
Frey hesitated at Slavin’s gentle question. “Nothing unless you’re prepared to go against captain’s orders. I need to get to the Viking before Travis corners him. I have a feeling he won’t give up very easily.”
“Who, Travis or the Viking?” Slavin asked.
“The four-thousand-year-old warrior. The one with the axe and probably a few daggers hidden around his person. Vikings believed that the best death imaginable was in battle.”
“Damn.” Slavin paused. “He didn’t kill you though, did he?”
“No, he just punched the tranq gun out of my hand and tried to choke me.”
She didn’t tell Slavin that the Viking had attempted to communicate telepathically with her. That was still too complicated to think about, let alone share. For some reason, they were linked and now she’d been denied any opportunity to find and secure him.
Brown opened the door into medical and guided Frey through it. A body lay on one of the gurneys with a sheet drawn up over it. She guessed it was the unfortunate Prism who’d either been caught in the explosion or killed by the emerging Viking. Rehm, one of the pilots from the bridge, was also there holding a cloth to a deep slashing cut on the side of his head. He must have been the guy she’d heard scream after the Viking dropped her to the floor.
The medic looked up as he tended to Rehm and gestured to a chair.
“Take a seat, Tecky. I have to seal this wound up.”
Frey sat and concentrated her attention on anything but the smell of blood, and the unmoving mound on the gurney.
Someone was coming and it wasn’t the cat, or his female…
Einarr crouched between the two towering metal structures and focused his gaze on the outline of the door several lengths away from him. He wasn’t sure where he was, but the cylinders gave him good cover and the ability to ambush his adversaries if it became necessary.
But what if he killed them all? From what he’d already seen, these men didn’t carry any weapons. Were they like the Christian monks his ancestors had plundered and robbed when the men from the north first discovered the riches of England? A defenseless, peaceful people who had no ability to fight back?
But the female had pointed some kind of weapon at him, he was quite certain of that. He had no idea how many people inhabited this strange place that seemed to float through the night skies like a giant bird or a sea-less, wind-less ship.
He hunkered down as the voices grew louder. She’d been a little thing with hair the color of an autumn leaf and wide, startled brown eyes. But she hadn’t understood him at all, even in her thoughts, which worried him immensely. If these people were peaceful and were simply a means to get him to Valhalla or wherever the Gods wanted him to be, he needed to speak to them. He wasn’t like his ancestors. He’d learned to parley with those who deserved it.
And in this instance, he was the one who needed to understand where he was and exactly what was going on. He considered putting away his axe and stepping out with his hands raised, but he couldn’t do that either. He might not be as rabid as his ancestors, but he was no coward and, until he gauged the intent of the men coming after him, he would be a fool to relax his guard.
He squinted through the darkness. There were three of them in a single line. One carried an extremely bright source of light that he directed into every shadowed area. The others carried something in their hands, which he had to assume were weapons of unknown strength. He slid his axe back into his belt and selected a throwing dagger instead.
As he pondered his choices, he felt an all too familiar tingle in his fingers and the runes on his armbands began to glow. Einarr smiled into the darkness. His magic was returning. Unfortunately for his opponents, he had another source of power beyond that of his strength. He had the magic of a hundred seers in his blood—right back to his ancestor Odin. If strength would not or could not defeat a man’s enemies, there was always another way. In truth, unlike his brother Aki, he’d always used violence as a last resort.
Eventually, the powerful light swung toward his hiding place. Lifting his hand, palm facing outward, he reflected the beam back toward his pursuers, getting his first good look at the two brawny males and the man behind them who was obviously in charge. Even as they complained about the sudden unexpected reflection, he magicked a cloud around himself, distorting his image and making it disappear into the shadows. If they were like most men, they wouldn’t be able to see him at all.
With a sign from their commander, they moved on deeper into the space, leaving Einarr in peace. He was just about to relax when one of the men turned back, his expression puzzled, and came straight toward Einarr’s hiding place. With a silent curse, Einarr caught the man around the neck and silenced him, dropping the unconscious body to the floor and taking the “weapon” for further examination.
He knew he’d have to move again. Following his instincts, he searched out a series of ladders that took him even further into the bowels of the ship and set about finding a secure place to get some rest.
4
Frey sat up straight as a security guard was brought into the already cramped medical facility and placed on the last remaining gurney. The doc turned away from examining her throat and grimaced.
“Another one? What’s going on?”
“We have a defrosted Viking running around the ship. What else do you need to know?” Brown snapped. “What happened, Ross?”
“We’re not sure.” The man who’d brought the new patient in paused at the door. “We made a sweep of storage bay one. The captain and I were at the door ready to move out when we realized Moshe wasn’t with us. I retraced our path and found him like this.” Ross shook his head. “I have to get back. The captain’s waiting for me.”
The doctor looked up from his examination. “Tell the captain Moshe’s been knocked unconscious with a blow to the side of the head. He’ll have a slight concussion, but otherwise he’ll be fine. In fact, he’s coming around now.”
As Ross left, Brown moved over to stand by the gurney. “Moshe? What happened?”
His much younger colleague groaned as the doctor gave him a shot in the arm. “Jeez, that scared the fuck out of me.”
“What did?” Brown asked with an edge to his voice.
“We scanned the storage bay, checked it out and found nothing, and then I got this sense, this kind of tickling sensation in the back of my neck, you know? So I had to turn around and go back. And shit, this huge dude was just suddenly there and that was the last thing I remember.”
“Where’s your weapon?”
Moshe sighed. “Shit, I don’t know. I certainly didn’t get to use it. He was too damned fast.”
“Nice attitude for a security operative, Moshe,” Brown muttered.
“You wouldn’t have done any better. One moment there was nothing except this grey fog and then suddenly that guy was right in my face.” He shuddered. “Did I mention that he was fucking huge?”
“So he’s a magical Viking, is he?”
“Maybe. He certainly knows how to hide his tracks.”
Despite Brown’s sarcastic tone, Frey considered Ross’s words very carefully. The Viking was telepathic and his ability to survive in ice for thousands of years hinted at other powers… As a Pavlovan, she knew her Gods were magical and often did extraordinary things. She’d also noticed that people from Earth didn’t seem to have much faith in anything at all.
Both Captain Travis and Brown were from Earth. Moshe was half-Pavlovan which might explain why he’d had to go and check out that feeling.
“If the Viking has acquired one of our weapons, Brown, it might cause a problem if he inadvertently sets it off,” Frey said as calmly as she could. “Perhaps you should inform the captain.”
“I’ll do that as soon as I’ve returned you to your quarters.”
Frey slid off the gurney and re-buttoned her uniform. “You should just
let me tell him and how I intend to deal with the problem.”
“Nice try, Tecky, but you’re not going near the captain or that Viking until I’m given the okay.”
Freya held his gaze. “Then you won’t catch him, and more of our crew will be injured. Is that what you want?”
“And you think you can save the day?”
“Yes.”
His smile was somewhere between kind and dismissive. “Let’s get you safely back to your quarters, shall we?”
Frey let out her breath and stomped down the path to the crew quarters, glad that she had her own cabin to fret and fume in alone. Brown opened the door and ushered her inside.
“Have a good evening, Tecky.”
She let him do his thing, heard him tapping away at the security panel, changing the access codes so that she couldn’t leave without setting off an alert. He had no idea that as a Pavlovan, she had the telepathic ability to manipulate electrical signals, get out of that door in less than a second, and reset the alarms to make it look as if she’d never left.
But first, she needed to check her emergency supplies from FREN, form a plan and make sure she knew where her Viking was hiding. This time she would come prepared for a fight.
It was warm down in the innards of whatever magical flying boat Einarr was currently on. He’d finished the loaf of excellent bread and drank most of the water he’d decanted into his leather drinking pouch. Now he was waiting for either another attack or the reappearance of his female. He had no doubt that she would find him. He believed in the Fates and she, whoever she was, had become part of his destiny. He could sense it.
Time passed slowly, the warmth of his hiding place and the regular roar of whatever powered the ship making him yawn and fight sleep. He didn’t want to sleep. Some part of him feared that if he did so, he’d wake up in another world and he would finally go mad.