Captive

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Captive Page 29

by Cheryl Brooks


  “I wouldn’t put anything past the Ladies Auxiliary.” Moe ladled out a cup of punch and tasted it. “Not bad.” He poured another cupful and handed it to Klara, whose piña colada was long gone. “Can’t taste any booze, so it should be okay for you to drink, and certainly good enough for a toast.” He held up his cup. “To the women of Haedus Nine. May they continue to prevail against adversity.”

  Everyone within earshot stared at him as though he’d just sprouted antennae.

  “Don’t guess you have that tradition,” he muttered. “To make a toast, you clink your glasses together and drink to someone’s health or whatever.”

  “To the women of Haedus Nine.” Klara tapped her cup to Moe’s, apparently catching on to the idea as quickly as she’d gotten the hang of the waltz.

  Velkma and Yirland joined in, despite appearing somewhat doubtful. “To the women of Haedus Nine.”

  Moe grinned. “By George, I think they’ve got it.”

  Klara eyed the banquet laid out on the tables with a much better appetite than she had when the Zuterans had served up her lunch earlier that day. Not surprisingly, roast chicken and fish were among several items she couldn’t identify. She gave Moe a nudge. “See any hot dogs?”

  “Nope,” he replied. “But then, that was too much to hope for anyway. Although Mom probably has some on her ship.” With a short laugh, he added, “Come to think of it, I should have some on my ship, if Nevid hasn’t eaten them all. He tends to be something of a stress eater.”

  If Klara had possessed a similar tendency, she would’ve outweighed a Nedwut by now. Stress had always tended to have the opposite effect on her, which, given the scarcity of food, was probably for the best. Otherwise, her gang would’ve revolted against her long ago.

  Staring at the feast laid out before her—which was still substantial, even given the hordes of revelers who had already eaten their fill—it shocked her to recall that nearly the entire population of Srekatoa had been living on the brink of starvation for years. That such a basic need often went unfulfilled made her angrier than ever. She and her gang had lived on the fringes of society; for them to go hungry wasn’t too surprising. But the everyday lack of food among the general population was unacceptable and apparently preventable. Pelarus had so much to answer for.

  She glanced at Moe, who seemed to have lost interest in what happened to Pelarus—or at least forgotten about it for a few brief moments. She, on the other hand, hadn’t forgotten for one second. A fitting punishment for such a cruel tyrant was beyond her imagination.

  Unless…

  A low growl escaped her. “Banishment won’t be enough. We really should put Pelarus in a cage and watch him starve to death. Or at least make him beg for food.” She could picture the passersby tossing scraps to him, laughing as he groveled in his own filth. “Everything he’s done to this world should be done to him.”

  “I don’t think the Ladies Auxiliary are that vindictive,” Moe said gently. “But I see your point. He deserves much, much worse. Still, stripping him of his wealth and power may prove to be enough. If he ever had to struggle to earn a living, he’s probably forgotten about it.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t believe he’s ever had to worry about where his next meal was coming from. He strikes me as the type who was born to wealth and privilege. Born lacking perspective into how the rest of us live. Moreover, he cares nothing for anyone else’s welfare. He only cares about his own.”

  “I agree. But we should still leave it to Velkma’s people to decide his fate.”

  Fury flooded her body, making her chest burn and her hands clench into fists. “His henchmen killed my mother when he had ordered them to kill me. I think that gives me the right to have a say.”

  He exhaled slowly. “I certainly can’t argue with that. Now, my suggestion would be to dump him on Orpheseus Prime with nothing but the clothes on his back. Once Val has cleaned out his bank accounts, he’d have one hell of a time surviving there.”

  To her surprise, she found herself nodding in agreement. “You’re right. That’s the perfect solution. But who would want to take him there?”

  “We could do it. Just toss him in the hold with a little food and water and leave him there until we land. Then throw him out on his ass.”

  “Ooh… I like it!”

  His lips pursed in a moue of distaste. “Might have to borrow Myrhm to clean up after him, though. Still, it might be worth the mess, and it seems like a fitting punishment. We’ll see what Velkma and Yirland think about it.”

  Klara was fairly certain they would approve. After all, they’d only said they wanted him gone from Haedus Nine forever. From what she’d heard of Orpheseus Prime, stranding him there would go beyond the letter of their request to fulfill the spirit.

  She leaned against Moe, yawning. “I hate to admit it, but I’m exhausted. I’m beginning to wish we’d stayed on your ship.”

  Moe gave her a squeeze. “We’ll eat a little something and head back. The way Val was going at it, he’ll probably be finished transferring the funds before the party is over.”

  “We should save him something. Any idea what he might like?”

  “As I recall, he mostly eats fruit and nuts. Sort of like the average bird.” He shook his head. “No idea how he can maintain a physique like that on nothing but fruit and nuts. Must be part of his genetic modifications.”

  “You’d be surprised at how little you need to survive—and what you can get used to.” She nodded toward the Racks, who were happily munching on a stack of roasted aubergat stalks. “With all this to choose from, they’re still eating that crap.”

  Moe shrugged. “No accounting for taste, is there?”

  Klara doubted that taste had anything to do with it. They simply didn’t know any better. She’d already eaten food she’d never heard of at least once that day, herself. “True. Then again, maybe most Racks like aubergat stalks. I wouldn’t know.”

  “You can find out in a heartbeat if you Google it,” Moe said informatively. “But why bother? They seem happy enough.”

  Klara was forced to admit he was right. She counted to ten before asking, “What’s Google?”

  “Online search engine,” he replied. “Been around for eons.”

  She heaved a weary sigh. “Thanks for clearing that up.”

  He eyed her with doubt. “Still don’t get it, do you?”

  “Not really. But I will. Someday. Just not today.”

  “Gotcha.”

  Moe’s brother, Larry strolled over. “The food’s not bad here. The booze is pretty nasty, but who cares about that now?”

  “Nobody,” Moe replied. “Heard the good news? Val found the money.”

  Larry nodded. “Oh, yeah. Mom told me.”

  “Wait a minute,” Moe said, frowning. “I haven’t told her yet.”

  “You know Mom. She pumped Yirland for information right after she saw you talking to her.” He took a sip of his drink—a frothy green concoction—and winced. “So when are you guys packing up and leaving this dump?”

  Klara blinked, suddenly realizing that in leaving Haedus Nine, she would be leaving the only world—the only home—she’d ever known. “I don’t know. There really isn’t anything keeping us here.” Anything she would miss, they could easily take with them, namely, her gang members, none of whom she was willing to leave behind, especially the Racks. She glanced at Moe. “Is there?”

  “Not really,” Moe replied. “Might be kinda fun to stick around until the election is over, though. My money is on Yirland being elected as supreme leader or president or prime minister or whatever they decide to call the Head Fred.” He shrugged. “But you never know.”

  “Don’t hang around too long,” Larry said with a grin. “I sent out a deep space com a little while ago, and I’ve already received a rather incredulous reply.” Glancing at Klara, he continued, “You might want to head for Terra Minor soon. There’s someone there who is very anxious to meet you and still isn’t convi
nced you are who you say you are.” His gaze drifted toward her temple. “Although with that orange streak in your hair, I don’t believe there could possibly be any doubt, even if you do have blue eyes.”

  Temfilk joined them, chewing on some sort of flat, crispy disk—yet another food item Klara couldn’t identify—with Nexbit following close behind, carrying what she now recognized as a chicken leg in each hand. “Where are we going?”

  His use of “we” caused Klara’s eyes to get a little misty. No, she wouldn’t be leaving any of her gang behind, no matter where they went.

  She cleared her throat with an effort. “To meet my father.”

  Chapter 30

  Biting her lower lip, Klara seemed more doubtful than Moe had yet to see her. “Or maybe we should stick around and see how things turn out here on Haedus Nine. After all, there’s no real rush, is there?”

  “I dunno,” Moe replied. “Part of me wants to put this world behind me forever, but I can understand why you might want to wait a while.”

  He didn’t mention the most pertinent aspect of her question, which was meeting Trag for the first time. That had to be a tough one—and he didn’t have to have a similar experience to know that. A parent whom you’d never seen and who had no idea you even existed? According to Larry, Trag was a little…skeptical. Not that Moe blamed him. Still, considering the number of spaceport brothels he had reportedly patronized, the possibility existed that one or two of his kids might turn up eventually. Although, given the availability of contraception, sex workers rarely conceived.

  Unfortunately, this was no one-in-a-billion chance. Delaroh had set out to deceive Trag and bear his children from the very beginning. Trag might resent Delaroh’s deception and in turn, resent Klara.

  Moe tried to recall everything he’d ever heard about Trag, along with his own experiences with the man, and he still had no idea how he might react. Trag might be the hero of the Zetithian people for killing Rutger Grekkor, but he’d only done it after Grekkor had stabbed his mate, Micayla. That had been a spur-of-the-moment gut-level reaction. This was different.

  On the other hand, Jack had been delighted to discover another Zetithian woman, whether she’d been the one doing the discovering or not. Trag might see it the same way.

  Klara’s pensive expression had yet to fade, even during Moe’s ruminations. Some reassurance was clearly necessary.

  He cleared his throat. “If you’re worried about what Trag will say, I’m guessing he’ll be pleased to meet you, even if he doesn’t believe you’re his daughter. With so few of us left, finding any surviving Zetithian is cause for rejoicing.” He studied her expression, which hadn’t changed one iota. “That’s not what’s bugging you, though, is it?”

  She shook her head. “I believe he would’ve forgiven my mother for what she did. I’m worried about what he’ll think of me.”

  “Seriously? You’ve survived against incredible odds and come out ahead. He’ll probably be very proud of you and see you for the heroine you are.”

  “Maybe. But I’ve been an outlaw for most of my life. Will he be able to see past that to love me the way a daughter should be loved—or at least give me a chance?”

  Moe thought for a moment. “I can’t answer that, although I’d be very surprised if he didn’t.” He smiled, caressing her cheek with a fingertip. “I’d be overjoyed to find that I had a daughter who was as brave and resourceful as you. Loving you would be easy.” Leaning closer, he kissed her forehead. “It was easy. Easier than anything I’ve ever done or will ever do.”

  She responded with a derisive snort. “Yeah, right. I only had to stun you and lock you up to get you to see the light.”

  He took a step back. “Get me to see the light? Come on, now. You weren’t exactly lover-like in the beginning, you know.”

  “Yeah. I know. I’m just glad it all turned out the way it did. As I said before, it could so easily have ended very badly.”

  “Yeah, right,” Temfilk said with a snicker. “You’ve seen how fast Moe can move. He wouldn’t have been killed in the arena, even without the ‘play dead’ rule.”

  Moe was reasonably confident in his abilities. However, no one was infallible. “Maybe not, but accidents do happen.”

  Nexbit waved a half-eaten chicken leg. “Let’s not dwell on that now. We’re supposed to be celebrating our victory over Pelarus. Remember?”

  Temfilk wiped the crumbs of rice cake from his bulbous lips. “And you two are in love and going to have lots of babies and be happy for the rest of your lives.” He touched Klara’s arm with a sucker-tipped finger and let out a blissful sigh. “Nothing quite as delightful as the essence of a pregnant woman in love.”

  Nexbit snorted. “Like you’ve ever touched a pregnant female before in your life.”

  “Doesn’t mean I can’t like it.” The Norludian smacked his lips. “Yummy and stimulating.”

  “Okay, okay. Enough of that.” Moe carefully removed Temfilk’s hand from his mate’s arm. “You need to get your jollies somewhere else.”

  Temfilk spread his arms wide. “Where do you suggest I go to do that? These Haedusians have never done it for me.”

  Moe could easily understand the difficulty. However, that problem was not his to worry about. “Which is yet another reason why we need to go somewhere else.” He tipped his head to one side. “Where do you want to go? Your homeworld?”

  Temfilk shook his head. “From what I’ve heard, I’d much rather go to Rhylos. More diversity there.”

  “True,” Moe conceded. “It’s an expensive place to live, though.” He glanced at Klara, then back at her two cohorts. “If you come with us on the Sunrise, we can visit Rhylos now and then. I haul cargo all over the galaxy. I’ve even been known to carry passengers, although not very often. My ship’s not fancy enough for most interstellar travelers. No spas or pools or midnight buffets or anything like that.”

  “Hey, if you have beds and edible food, it’s all good.” Nexbit said. “We really don’t care where we go as long as it’s away from here. And the Racks would never leave Klara. She’s like their mother or something.”

  “I dunno. They’re seeming more independent all the time.” Klara nodded in the direction of the three Rackenspries. “Just look at them over there, playing with some of the Haedusian kids.” Her eyes narrowed. “Wait a second. Are they…gambling?”

  Moe followed her gaze. Sure enough, the furry little critters were rolling dice and something was changing hands, possibly credits or some form of the local currency. “Looks that way.” Turning, he shook his finger at Klara. “Didn’t you teach your boys not to take advantage of the other children?”

  She shrugged. “Hey, when you grow up on the street, you learn all sorts of useful skills.”

  Moe stared at the Racks and started in their direction. “Hold on, you guys. Where did you get that money?”

  Jal held up a coin and pointed at Lis, who, in turn, pointed toward a beaming Nedwut who was gazing at what appeared to be a portrait of Klara.

  “You sold him that picture?”

  Lis nodded vigorously. “Yah, boss.”

  Moe couldn’t imagine how Lis had managed to find the materials, unless he’d left Velkma’s house carrying her pencil and a few of the wanted posters. If so, their captors evidently hadn’t done a thorough search of his pockets. “Okay, but there’s a better use for your money than shooting craps with the local hooligans.” He needn’t have bothered. With the next roll of the dice, Jal squealed with glee and gathered up the pile of coins. “So…Lis can draw, Jal has incredible luck with dice, and you”—he looked at Bik—“can do…what?”

  As if on cue, Bik yawned.

  “I’m right there with you, man,” Moe said. “This has been one very long, highly eventful day. What do you say we all head back to my ship for the night?”

  “That sounds perfect to me,” Temfilk declared. “Do we really each get a room of our own?”

  “Not exactly,” Moe replied. “There a
re only six rooms, so some of us will have to double up.”

  “No worries,” Nexbit said. “We’ve been doing that for years. Never knew what it was like to sleep alone until they threw us in jail.” He shuddered. “Didn’t care much for it, myself.”

  “Me, either,” Temfilk said with a nod. “It was kinda spooky being all alone like that.”

  Moe heaved an inward sigh, pleased that the only fights would be for which of them didn’t share a room. Then another, less cheery thought occurred to him. “Guess we should save one room to lock Pelarus in, huh? Although throwing him in the hold seems more fitting.”

  Nexbit gazed at Moe with obvious horror. “Does that mean you’ve been picked to get rid of him?”

  “Not yet,” Moe replied. “We were talking about marooning him on Orpheseus Prime, but we need to run the idea by the Ladies Auxiliary first. The trouble is Mom and Dad don’t want to go back there, and neither does Val, so if that’s what the locals decide to do, we’ll probably get stuck with the job. Unfortunately, it’ll take months to get there. Orpheseus isn’t exactly a hop, skip, and a jump from here.”

  Temfilk snorted. “Well, if you do agree to take on the job, I’m willing to share a room with anyone as long as it means I won’t have to look at his ugly face.”

  “We can deal with all that tomorrow.” Klara picked up Bik, who let out another huge yawn as he curled up in her arms. “Right now, we need to put these little guys to bed.”

  Klara hated to admit it, but if the voyage to Orpheseus Prime really would take months, she was more than willing to volunteer to dispose of Pelarus, because that would mean delaying the meeting with Trag long enough for her—and him—to get used to the idea.

  Or not. She’d always known who her father was. She just never expected to have a face-to-face meeting with him. On his side of the matter, her very existence was news to him, and he’d already expressed skepticism. While Larry might be convinced, selling her father on the idea might not be as easy.

 

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