by Laura Kaighn
In response, a smiling Dr. Sheradon blinked into Vesarius’ mind. The warrior blinked the image away. Standing he told his Kin, “I am coming down there. Do not get wet, Tundra. We have work to do today, remember?” It would take hours for the dog to dry since Tundra refused to use the pool’s dryer units.
A moment later, Vesarius was out the door and down the corridor to the electromagnetic lift, braiding his wet hair as he went. Tundra imaged for him once more. This time Vesarius witnessed Dorinda paddling after Noah who shot out of her grasp, darting toward the deep half of the pool. The woman laughed and called after the rambunctious otter that pivoted and repeated his teasing game.
When the lift doors opened, the Vesar strode out nodding his good morning to the crewmembers who acknowledged him. He fastened his braid with a short leather cord then was hit by a new, more vivid image. Engulfing water splashed all around him. Tundra was in the pool. Ahead of the Alaskan malamute, in the deep end, was pandemonium: a thrashing of arms and surging water.
“Hold on. I am coming.” Vesarius bolted down the corridor past curious stares. Two turns to the right, quick dodges past fellow crew, and the warrior flew through the rec-room doors. He coursed along the narrow hallway to the pool.
Not stopping even to tug off his boots, Vesarius dove headlong into the deep end and stroked toward the woman struggling near the center of the pool. Noah’s seven-foot length arched continuously around Dorinda’s writhing arms. Nearby, Tundra paddled in a great circle as if reluctant to get too close.
Vesarius drew near. He reached out, but Dorinda’s back was to him. He could not grasp her slippery limbs. Treading water, he sputtered. “Dorinda. Give me your hand.” The woman lunged backward when Noah leaped over her head. Her arms flailed wide. One smacked Vesarius just beneath his left eye. Grimacing, he snatched the offending appendage and tugged Dorinda close, spinning her around to face him.
“Ow! Vesarius. What are you doing?”
The Vesar balked, shivering in the chilling liquid. “Tundra showed me you were drowning. I ... I thought you were drowning.”
Dorinda tried to wriggle from his steel grip. “Drowning people don’t laugh and splash about having fun,” she panted. “They’re usually underwater … sinking.”
Vesarius shuddered again, drenched beneath his constricting leather sandsuit. He promptly released her arm to watch Dorinda bob. She paddled effortlessly in the churning water between them. “You seem to have recovered nicely.” Grimly Vesarius stroked in place. Then, after another moment’s awkward scrutiny, the warrior concluded, “I will leave you to your games.” He spun in the water and sculled to the side of the pool. There he shoved himself free of the frigid fluid. Dripping heavily, the Vesar climbed onto the deck. From behind him, Vesarius heard Dorinda giggling. The warrior walked to a side table to retrieve a large towel. With a scowl her way, he wiped his face and squeezed out his braid.
As the water splattered to the floor, Dorinda chuckled again but covered her mouth. “I’m sorry, Vesarius. You really did think I was drowning.” She visibly forced the smile from her taut lips and continued to tread water.
With a grunt, the Vesar tugged the constricting leather tunic from his torso. He then threw the towel about his shoulders and plopped down on the end of a chaise lounge. Hunched forward against the chill, Vesarius glared at the rippling water with steaming coal eyes. The woman in the pool was still watching him.
“You’re cold,” Dorinda observed. “Your body temperature must make this water seem like ice.” She swallowed. “You ought to take off your pants too. Wrap yourself in a dry towel. You’ll warm up faster.”
Vesarius raised his brooding brow to the woman floating within the cool basin. “I have your permission to undress before you?”
“I... I won’t look. You’re cold.” Dorinda paddled farther from him, toward Noah who bobbed a meter away observing with sparkling eyes.
Tundra lurched poolside near his Bondmate and shook heartily. The icy liquid dashed everything, including Vesarius’ bare back as he bent to peel the wet leather from his mahogany legs. Gasping, he straightened. “Tundra!” The warrior growled through another violent shiver. “It is not funny.” The malamute panted happily, however, and pranced around the man’s chair as he resettled himself. Vesarius tugged his soggy boots free with a grunt then peeled the rest of his trousers down, plucking out his feet. He was clothed now only in leather briefs.
At the Vesar’s side with another towel, Tundra leaned away and wagged his bushy tail with good humor. As Vesarius rubbed the chill from his arms, the Alaskan malamute projected a visual replay of the Vesar’s daring plunge into the pool, then his surprised expression at Dorinda’s lack of peril. Tundra followed with a playful yip and pranced about the chair a second time. Grimacing, Vesarius couldn’t hold a grudge. He chuckled softly and snatched the hanging towel from the dog’s mouth. Winding up the cloth he slapped Tundra on the haunches. “You stlás hound. Is this your revenge for last night?” Vesarius squeezed out his hair once more and patted his bare legs dry with the proffered towel. Then from his chair, the warrior watched the woman in the water.
* * *
Dorinda bobbed near the far side of the deep end while Noah arched around her, chirruping happily. Then the otter dove to the bottom, wheeled around, and shot for the surface. Dori laughed as the spray hit her full in the face. Coughing she waved the Kin away. “All right, Noah, that’s enough. My legs are getting tired.”
But her new Kinpanion was having too much fun. Dori knew it had been nearly two weeks since last he had frolicked in his favorite element. Noah wished to share his exhilaration with his new Bondmate. Slipping under her arms, the otter coursed around Dorinda’s legs in a downward spiral creating a watery vortex.
Laughing, Dorinda smacked the swirling water with her arms. She gathered a breath and dove under, kicking after her Kinpanion. Noah twirled in a slow corkscrew along the bottom of the pool. He watched her descent. But when Dorinda reached out to stroke her Kin’s waterproof coat, Noah squeaked delightedly. With a stream of bubbles he was gone.
Whirling to follow, Dorinda’s legs suddenly constricted into steel knots. With a groan she clutched at their anchor hardness. Instinctively Dori arched toward the surface. Precious air escaped her lungs, however. Those wavering spheres guided her ascent as Dorinda stroked an arm to rise. Swelling concern witnessed her escape route drawing sluggishly nearer against the pressure in now burning lungs.
Weakly Dorinda burst to the surface. She gasped, sweeping her arms in semicircles to stay afloat. Panic gripped her brain. Dori’s legs throbbed beneath her, useless. Like stone weights, they sucked her into the depths. Swerving to the closest poolside, Dorinda tried paddling to safety. But she found she kept gulping water. Her own splashing obscured her sight. Dread gripped her heart in ice. Dorinda’s lungs grew viscous with the frigid fluid. Arms flopping, she fought to stay conscious. She was not even aware of Noah’s furred body coursing at her side, squealing his alarm.
* * *
Vesarius witnessed Dorinda’s agitated efforts. Bolting erect he cast aside his towel. A second later he was again arcing into the cold water, stroking powerfully to the pool’s deep end. In a few moments he drew close enough to see Dorinda’s head loll forward. Her movements slackened, became less desperate. Vesarius kicked furiously. Lurching forward, he snatched the woman around the shoulders with one arm. With the same momentum, the warrior flipped Dorinda onto her back and arched for the opposite poolside just three meters away. Tundra met him there. With Noah’s help, the malamute hauled the woman onto the deck by her suit straps.
Water coursed off his bare skin as Vesarius heaved out beside her. He knelt to check on her condition. “Dorinda?” Vesarius felt the racing pulse at her neck. His own lungs huffing against his exertion, he leaned forward to notice Dorinda’s chest was barely rising. Water had infiltrated her lungs. Quickly the Vesar shifted position. He leaned the woman’s head back to open her airway. Next he gently placed h
is dark lips over hers and blew life into Dorinda.
Suddenly she convulsed, coughing up the water which had choked her. Rolling her onto her side, Vesarius softly consoled the woman. “It will be all right. You will not be a fish today.”
Dorinda tried to sit up and coughed violently again. Vesarius supported her shoulder as she heaved on more liquid. “Vesar ...” Dorinda gagged and gulped.
“Do not talk,” he advised. “Just breathe.”
Noah cuddled up to her arm purring apologetically. Dorinda, pushing herself up further onto her elbow, freed a hand to stroke the otter Kin’s thick fur. “All right,” she croaked and swallowed hard before gasping more air. When Dori finally raised her head, dark eyes regarded her with concern. “All right,” Dorinda reassured again her voice less strained.
“I am taking you to the medical center.” Vesarius climbed to his bare feet. Gathering her easily in his arms the Vesar hefted Dorinda up and carried her toward the exit. Her wet body was cool against his bare chest. Her legs hung stiffly from his grip, fluttering muscles of rock.
When Vesarius strode out into the corridor, curious gazes followed. It was not often a near naked Vesar strolled the Pompeii’s corridors cradling an auburn beauty in his brawny arms. The trailing, dripping Kin Companions only added to the mystique of the moment.
Dorinda held herself steady in his grip, her right arm wrapped around his pulsing neck. She raised her eyes to the Vesar’s, but he concentrated on his path through the ship. Her gaze then fell on his rich mahogany skin. “Your shoulder.” Vesarius’ right shoulder was still reddened and warmer than his fiery body, still healing from the bullet which had nearly killed him. He felt her fingertips caress his shoulder blade. “Does ... does it hurt?”
Vesarius did not answer her; his eyes focused ahead. The Vesar did, however, stop his march when she groaned, her whole body tensed and straining against the remaining liquid in her lungs. When Dorinda’s coughing fit subsided, Vesarius strode forward once more. He purposely avoided the wide-eyed stares and mumbled comments of his fellow crew.
Tightening her grip about his neck, Dorinda choked into his left ear. “Sorry.” She laid her hand over the scarred skin of the Vesar’s chest ridges. “Your crest.” She coughed then sputtered, “It ... didn’t heal as well ...” Dorinda couldn’t finish her sentence. Instead she gently stroked the scalloped ridges and their fist-wide scar.
Vesarius froze, his lungs suspended at the touch. His entire frame experienced the rippling, tingling sensation of her caress, and instantly dismissed its cause. “Do not touch that,” he uttered with such gravity that Dorinda withdrew her hand as if the ridges had tried to bite her. Dorinda clung to him less tightly then. Silently she awaited their arrival to the medical center.
When Vesarius marched into the emergency room, two female nurses gaped at the tall alien and his burden. They rushed forward to gather his dripping charge. Together the pair placed Dorinda on a diagnostic platform covering her in warm blankets. Noah scrambled to the pillow and purred concernedly despite the nurses’ shooing.
“Vesarius, what happened?” Dr. Sheradon strutted past him to the bed. “I told her to stay in the shallows.”
Someone handed him a set of scrub pants. Vesarius drew them on quickly as he explained, “Noah and she were in the deep water. Dorinda’s legs weakened. She panicked.”
Sheradon held her diagnostic scanner against Dorinda’s still straining chest. Beside her, Vesarius could view the display screen. It showed an elevated heartrate and gurgling lungs. Weakly Dorinda waved the doctor away. “I’m OK. Got a Charlie … hor ... Just ... swallowed some ...” Dorinda shook with more choking gags.
“You’re not OK, young lady,” Sheradon corrected sternly. “You ignored my orders. I ought to confine you to your quarters for a week, but your legs need the exercise.” The doctor rolled Dorinda onto her side. “Now stay there and keep coughing. Your lungs need to drain some more. We don’t need a pneumonia case in this age of medical miracles.” Sheradon patted the woman’s shoulder encouragingly then spun on Vesarius. “You,” she growled. “In my office. Now.”
When the Vesar had cleared the door, Sheradon palmed the lock shutting them in together. She marched past his tensed shoulders and in his face blurted, “What the hell is the matter with you? You’re supposed to help her adjust to her new life, not let her kill herself.” The flush-faced doctor leaned back and gestured at his bare chest and previously naked legs. “And what were you doing like that? You better have a good excuse, Mister, because I know you don’t like to swim.”
The Vesar blinked and opened his mouth to speak, but felt his face heat with ire. He clamped his jaw shut a second later.
“Well, Iron Man?” Sheradon challenged. When Vesarius remained stoic, the doctor lowered her chin to shake her head. “I just don’t understand your behavior. Is there something going on between you two?”
“No!” Vesarius bellowed indignantly.
“As her doctor, I need to know.”
“Nothing. I do not want to discuss this, Doctor.” His voice was sharp with caveat.
In response, Sheradon’s stare narrowed to menacing. “Vesarius, you’re lying. And you’re arrogant.” Stepping closer, she poked him in the stomach. “Don’t lie to Dorinda or to yourself. It’s hurting her terribly.” Sheradon threw up an arm and spun away. “Stop being so selfish!” In the next instant she pivoted back to lock searing eyes with the taller alien. Sheradon’s voice lowered again to a growl. “Stop being so proud.”
Straightening his spine and jerking his shoulders back, Vesarius stated with self-assuredness, “I am a Vesar warrior.”
Yolonda nodded hotly. “Yeah? You’re also a pompous ass. Now get out of my office. Get dressed and back to work. I don’t want to see you unless you’re dying.” With that Dr. Sheradon waved him out, dismissing his presence with a punch to the door lock.
When the office opened, the Vesar strode out. He glanced once toward the emergency room then marched from the medical center. Tundra was waiting in the corridor. “Come on, boy. We have work to do.” Vesarius’ long legs quickly removed him from the sterile atmosphere of Dr. Sheradon’s domain.
After a quick stop at his cabin to redress, Vesarius sent Tundra to retrieve his wet clothes from the poolside. Then Vesarius crawled into an access tube to ascend the three decks to the Pompeii’s bridge. The workout relieved his tension, and he avoided any crewmembers who may have heard about his morning swim. When the Vesar climbed out onto the main bridge and palmed the access door shut again, curious stares regarded him from several stations.
Coty, seated in his command chair, did not even look over his shoulder. He had obviously heard the tube hatch hum open then shut. “Good morning, Commander. Your workout with Tlant left you energy to spare, I see. But, then, you’re also back early.”
Vesarius froze in his tracks, not even halfway to his navigation terminal. He snapped to attention beside his captain to stammer, “Sir, I was delayed. ... Sidetracked.” How could he admit this to the bridge crew? “I ... I forgot my appointment with the lieutenant.”
A slow mischievous grin spread across Michael Bear Coty’s lips. The captain glanced up only momentarily from the datapad on his lap. “Tlant didn’t forget. He called up here thirty seconds past oh-eight hundred.” Coty tapped something into the pad then smirked. “I had to explain that you were busy saving a drowning victim.” Another brief glance of his jasper gaze and Coty continued, “Tlant seemed a bit confused, but I assured him you’d explain your delay when you got there.” When Vesarius’ boot fidgeted on the deck and he remained silent, Coty glared at his officer. “Dismissed, Mister. You have an appointment to keep.”
“Yes, Sir,” Vesarius barked and pivoted toward the access tube.
“Take the lift, Commander. It’s quicker.”
“Yes, Captain.” Vesarius swiveled to the right and stepped into the magnetic lift. As the doors segregated him from his crewmates, the warrior missed his captain’s next word
s.
From his pivoting chair, Coty smirked to offer additional commentary. “Right about now, he’s turning two shades darker and pacing the floor to its rivets.” A sprinkling of chuckles pattered about the assembled humans. The captain lifted a finger to stall the jollity. “Let’s not deny our proud warrior his momentary humiliation. But heaven help Lt. Tlant. He has a most severe workout ahead of him.” The captain glanced about his bridge. “Back to work, people. And no further discussion of this incident. That’s an order.”
Several “Yes, Sirs,” echoed around the space as Coty’s staff returned to their jobs.
Chapter 7: Sand and Sabotage
Hours later, the uninhabited world of Mytok loomed in the Pompeii’s viewscreen. Vesarius fed the approach coordinates into the navigation controls from his station on the bridge. “Ship’s scanners showing no other vessels in orbit around Mytok, Captain. No apparent activity on the surface. All quiet.” Vesarius swiveled his seat around to regard his captain.
Coty was all business now, the mock combat of earlier forgotten. “Put us in a stationary orbit above the city complex, Commander. Train the scanner dish on the ruins for any life signs. We’re making sure it’s deserted before risking crew lives again.”
“Aye, Sir,” the Vesar acknowledged. He twisted back to his control panel. Just then the lift doors opened beside him, and Ambassador Tlenck stepped out. Vesarius pivoted to watch the Tloni descend to the captain’s chair. Coty did not appear pleased to see Tlenck arrive. Vesarius mirrored his captain’s scowl and observed the conversation with apprehension.
“Ah, Capt. Coty. Right on schedule, I see. You have reviewed my recommendations for the search team?”
Coty avoided the Tloni’s inquiring stare. “Yes, Ambassador.”
