If Galen was feeling anything close to the sense of being out of place that she was, though, she couldn’t tell it.
He may have been completely out of his element, but there was no outward sign of it—no indication that he was uneasy—curiosity, yes, about surroundings totally unfamiliar but no suggestion that he was bothered by it.
Of course he—his entire society—might be hundreds of years behind the people of the Confederation in science and technological development, but they were highly intelligent and fully capable of handling most situations.
Beyond that, Galen, himself, was capable far beyond most of his peers.
Regardless of the fact that he seemed to take it all in stride, Charly found she still wasn’t comfortable about leaving him, even knowing her first order of business should be to report for a debriefing.
Beyond that, and despite his seeming acceptance of the situation, Galen balked the moment he realized that they had every intention of separating the two of them.
“She stays with me,” he said, his voice so full of authority that everyone instantly complied and desisted in their efforts without even considering the order had come from someone none of them had allegiance to.
The commanding officer, Lieutenant Commander Smith, who’d strode away as soon as he’d left the shuttle, stopped and turned, hesitated for several moments and then returned to the group near the foot of the ramp.
“There’s a problem?”
Everyone came to attention except, of course, Prince Galen.
“My woman will stay with me.”
Everyone, including ‘his woman’, gaped at him as if he’d suddenly grown another head.
Lt. Commander Smith looked like someone had shoved shit in his mouth and ordered him to swallow. He struggled for a long moment and finally bowed his head slightly in the Prince’s direction and then fixed Charlotte with a hard look. “You will report for debriefing once the prince is settled in his cabin.”
Charly saluted in response.
She could see, though, that Galen didn’t like the demand at all and fully intended to argue. She glanced at him unhappily. “We should go to the med center so you can talk to the doc about your father,” she suggested, hopeful it would divert him.
He studied her in tight lipped silence for several moments and finally nodded.
Charly relaxed fractionally as they were escorted from the hanger deck by two Ensigns, the others—including Neal—having peeled off as soon as they could and headed toward their own destinations.
When they reached the med center, one of the ensigns took up a guard position by the door while the other went to collect the doctor.
Galen surveyed the Ensign guard with a look of distain.
Charly tensed, struggling to dismiss visions of Galen stalking over to the poor idiot and tearing him in half.
She didn’t want Galen to say or do anything that might provoke an unpleasant response and she didn’t want to get into trouble herself.
It wasn’t as if she could order Galen around, though!
Beyond that, she didn’t know what to make of the comment about escorting Galen to his cabin once he’d spoken to the doctor. It seemed plausible that they would make arrangements to allow him to stay on board as long as they had to keep his father and yet that could also be a ploy to keep him virtually a prisoner.
She just couldn’t think of any reason for a ploy.
If they meant to arrest him and try him for the death of Nldick, surely there would be no subterfuge? They’d simply arrest him and throw him in jail.
But maybe that was what the debriefing would focus on? Whether or not he could or should be charged in the death?
Or possibly they wanted to hear her side of the ‘rescue’? And discover what, if anything, she knew about the circumstances of Nldick’s death?
Well, she saw no reason to charge him for kidnapping even though she’d accused him of it and, truthfully, that was what it had been. From his perspective, he’d been protecting himself and the people of his country—doing what he thought his father would want, she was sure. It had been a political move and he certainly hadn’t harmed or even offered to harm her.
She was willing to let bygones be bygones.
She didn’t allow herself to think about the odd things Galen had said and done since the capture.
And she sure as hell couldn’t afford to dwell on the interlude that preceded their being taken into custody.
She could think about that later, when it was safe to do so, when it wasn’t likely to trip her up at a time when she had to have her wits about her.
Thankfully, they didn’t wait long before the Ensign returned with a young woman who didn’t look old enough to be considered an adult, let alone to be a doctor. She smiled and stuck a hand out to shake.
Galen stared down at it for a long moment and finally almost seemed to shrug. Taking her hand, he bowed slightly over it—almost as if he intended to kiss the back of her hand—and then released it.
The doctor turned red as a beet and flicked an uncomfortable look at Charly. “Uh … well … Prince Galen?”
He nodded.
She nodded back at him and then looked down at her chart. “The King … your father. Well I’m sorry, but I don’t see any point in sugarcoating it. It was almost too late to do anything for him by the time we got to him. He is responding well to the scrubber—We hooked him up to a blood scrubber to remove as much of the toxin as we could. But there’s a lot of damage. A lot. We’ll need to keep him here on life support until we can grow some new organs to replace the worst damage. But the good news is we’ve had a lot of advances and that doesn’t take nearly as long as it once did.”
Galen merely stared at her as if she’d grown another head.
She looked disconcerted and focused on her chart again. “Ok—so that would be one kidney—the other one is not too bad and should respond to treatment. The spleen. The liver. And we’re going to wait and see on the lungs. Otherwise, we feel confident that we can treat everything else and ….” She stopped and looked at Galen sympathetically and released a heavy sigh. “With the best we can do, this will shorten his life and we can’t even predict what the quality of life will be. But this will give him some time and it will give you more time with him. I’m sorry we can’t … give you a more positive outcome. If we’d known ….” She stopped and nodded and took off like a shot.
Galen looked like he needed to sit down, but Charly was afraid to presume to offer any kind of help. She wanted to, she realized, in the worst kind of way, but …. She supposed she was more worried that he’d reject, violently, any attempt to offer comfort than she was about the gossip grape vine that would follow that kind of behavior. But that was still a part of her reason for ignoring the impulse.
The doctor stopped when she got to the doors as if she’d suddenly remembered something and turned to look back at Galen. “He’s awake if you want to speak to him?”
Galen seemed to gather himself with an effort. He nodded and strode across the waiting area to where the doctor had paused.
Feeling abandoned, knowing it was completely unreasonable, especially considering the situation, Charly watched until he disappeared and then turned to the Ensign by the door. “I guess I should report for that debriefing now. Well, once I’ve had the chance to bathe and find something to wear.”
The Ensign escorted her to the ship ‘store’ for supplies and then to the crew facilities and left her.
It wasn’t until she stepped into the hot mist issuing from the shower head that she caught a faint scent on her skin of Galen.
Or maybe it was just the scent from the soap they’d washed with that triggered the memory?
Or maybe it was purely imagination prompted by the memory of her last bath?
Whatever the case, it set off a tsunami of memories and emotions.
She discovered she was crying and she didn’t have a clue of why.
She had privacy, as far as she knew,
but she also realized she couldn’t count on that and moreover that, if she allowed herself to lose control, she might have trouble regaining it.
It was a struggle, but by the time she’d finished bathing she was mostly in control of her emotions again and once she’d dressed in her new uniform she felt ready to handle the questioning she had to face.
She had mixed feelings when she finally found her way to the offices where the debriefing was to take place and discovered that Neal was already there, waiting.
She settled beside him. “Did you just get here?”
He shook his head. “I’m waiting for round two. Landry’s in there right now.”
Tom—he and Larry were supposed to neutralize the guards on the ramparts. But then, Neal had been told to meet her in her room for the tranq. She realized she had no idea what had happened beyond the little Neal had told her after she was picked up.
She frowned, trying to figure it out from what she knew about where everyone was supposed to be positioned, but there was a huge problem with the fact that the entire plan had collapsed.
“I don’t get it. I could see where someone might have stumbled upon you as you headed to my room, but Tom and Larry were supposed to follow Nldick and Claude and Tara were supposed to head for the ship.”
“Well,” Neal said tightly, “Your boyfriend heard everything. I’m guessing that’s the leak that got everybody caught.”
Charly gaped at him, feeling a flash of anger on the heels of the shock that rolled over her.
She had been partners with Neal as long as she’d been in the investigative division. She’d always thought of him as a friend. It didn’t just hurt to have him seemingly turning on her. It pissed her off.
She’d expected him to have her back, but it looked like he was throwing her under the bus to protect his own ass.
“Galen was already in my room when I got there. Exactly when is it that you think he passed the information and set us up?”
Chapter Twelve
In a way Charly was glad she’d had ‘words’ with Neal in the waiting room. It made her blood boil, but it also gave her a chance to brace herself.
She was instructed to start at the beginning and that meant she had to claim responsibility for the malfunctioning translator. She should have checked everything before she left the ship.
She pointed out that there was nothing to translate and no way to know it wasn’t working until she got outside the ship and heard the Oloote speak.
And she didn’t go back inside because it would have aroused their suspicions that she was up to something—or at least could have and they’d been instructed to do nothing that might make the Oloote more uneasy about dealing with them.
They dropped that line of questioning, but she wasn’t fooled into thinking they’d simply accepted her explanation. They’d circle back around to it.
Then they got to the dinner and she had to explain that she was unfamiliar with the wine and she’d thought she was being careful and drinking just enough to allay their suspicions. She hadn’t realized it was having a potent effect on her until it did and by that time her judgment was already impaired.
Then they wanted to know how and why she’d drawn the attention of both princes.
Fucking bitch, Hallie!
Well, she might be maligning the bitch, but she had every reason to believe she was the source of this information.
“I have no clue. I just assumed it was part of their customs. They danced with Hallie, as well. And there were others who danced with Tara.”
“Ranger Montgomery suggested that you had insisted that you were in charge of the operation and she thought that you’d given them that impression—that you were the leader.”
Confirmation! She’d known immediately it had to be that bitch!
“I am squad leader and senior officer. If they noticed …. I’m not sure how I should have acted, Sir.”
Her ass was numb from the hard seat of the chair she’d been given before they dismissed her to call in another poor slob.
The Ensign who’d escorted her earlier met her outside in the waiting room and told her he’d been sent to show her to her quarters.
Surprise rocked her. They weren’t assigned to the UCP Obama. She’d expected to be quartered with the enlisted—not given a cabin!
She didn’t argue or question. She merely nodded and followed him, ignoring the stares she got from the rest of the group assembled for questioning.
She was preoccupied as she followed him with the suspicion she was trying to dismiss that the brass was trying to work up some kind of charges against her if not the entire group.
She was the officer in charge, though, so it seemed mostly likely she would take the fall if there was a fall.
She was so preoccupied that she’d entered the cabin and shut the door before she realized it wasn’t empty.
Galen was there, pacing the small cabin like a caged animal, and he wasn’t happy.
“Where in the hell have you been?” he growled angrily.
Charly gaped at him in disbelief for a split second before jerking a look behind her to assure herself that he was talking to her—not someone else who just happened to be there.
“Excuse you?” she growled back at him when she realized the demand was directed at her.
For a moment, he looked like he might erupt. After a brief struggle with his temper, however, he seemed to regain control. “I was concerned about your safety,” he said with an effort. “I had expected that you would join me when I went in to see my father, but when I looked around you’d disappeared.”
Charly wasn’t certain of what to make of that or how to take it, so she changed the subject. “How is he?”
Some of the tension visibly left him. “He seemed better. He would not have to improve much to appear better, though. I had thought that I would not see him again in this life when I left him.”
Charly felt a knot form in her throat. Clearly, he cared for his father. She felt so insensitive in the things she’d said and the way she’d acted. “It wasn’t all bad, then—the way things went down. I’m happy for you.”
Galen frowned. She didn’t know if it was a ‘translation’ issue because of her speech patterns or if something she’d said had bothered him. He crossed the small space that separated them, though, and took both of her hands in his.
The gesture sent a little jolt of surprise through her, but she didn’t feel threatened in any way.
Quite the contrary.
She didn’t realize until she felt his nearness and his touch that she’d wanted to feel it again, needed to feel it like a thirsty person needed water.
“He was disappointed that he didn’t get to meet my wife.”
That time the jolt was a good deal harder and far less pleasant. Charly felt numb from the force of it. “Your wife?” she echoed in dismay.
His smile was a little forced. “You.”
Charly blinked at him as if she’d suddenly lost the ability to understand English. Well, she had, because she thought she’d heard him say they were married—or whatever they called it here. “What?”
Something flickered in his eyes. “The ritual … and the consummation?”
Charly commenced to blinking rapidly while she searched her mind frantically for a memory, any memory, of what he was talking about. “I’m … confused. When … we had sex …?”
His lips tightened. “Consummated our joining. You would have learned our ways. You must understand our customs, surely?”
“Wait! Wait, wait! We did what?”
“I captured you. I took you to the temple. We bathed in the purification pool—bathed one another. You accepted my touch. The joining was witnessed by the priests.”
Were these supposed to be facts?
Well, they were, but clearly they meant something entirely different to him than they had to her. She searched her mind for anything she could use to argue her side and hit upon something she thought was significant. H
er eyes narrowed. “You said it was sanctuary!”
He looked taken aback. “Of course it was … is! It is a temple to the gods. A holy place. Where else would I take you to make you my queen?”
Charly felt her jaw slide to half mast. “Oh my god!”
She snatched her hands from his and turned to pace. She didn’t get far. He was blocking her path and the damned cabin was tiny to start with. “It was supposed to be a simple extraction of a murder suspect! Now it looks like my career is in the shitter—if I don’t get charged for thoroughly fucking things up and end up in prison for the rest of my natural life. And you’re saying …. This just gets better and better.”
His expression had become stony. “We joined in the eyes of the gods. We are bound to one another. Only death can break the binding.”
She gaped at him. “Here. On Bacsheer. I’m not Oloote! I’m not from this planet. We don’t have the same customs.” She shook her head at him. “I have a career—a life that’s fulfilling, exciting. I’m a career soldier. I have my life planned out. I can retire at half pay in ten years—full in twenty—if I make it that far. I’d already planned my next career and paid down on the place I wanted to retire to.” She shook her head again, trying to shake the sense that nothing she’d said was so wonderful that there was no room for anything else. She’d spent way too much time convincing herself that it was all she needed or wanted to just … toss it aside because he was offering something different. “I have to think.”
“What if we made a child together?”
She halted and turned to look at him in horror.
She supposed that answered that question even though she deeply regretted her reaction and wished she could take it back. He looked like she’d punched him in the jaw. It didn’t take him long to recover and she was inclined to think his ‘punch’ was a lot more effective on her than hers had been on him. “There will be no place for him in your world. You must promise that you will bring the child to me.”
The Barbarians: Stolen Bride Page 7