“Malik,” Okil said, cutting through his train of thought. “We have hit a problem.”
“I see,” Malik said, even though he had no idea what problem there could be that involved him. He had pride in his work, and he had never let his fellow warriors down, but he was one among many who were equally as capable.
“No, you probably don’t,” Okil said, getting up to take those two paces again, his hand itching to push the handle down on the door and leave the room, but he didn’t; he simply sat back down, leaned forward, and said to Malik, “The problem is, the human female we had chosen for Trumin has fallen ill.”
Trumin was the next warrior who was to go into deep space with his female. No doubt there would have to be a different female found for him. Darl, the doctor in charge of these things, was a magician when it came to perfect matches, or so the rumour went. “Then the mission will be delayed?” Malik asked, seeing Okil’s predicament.
“No … not if you are willing to go instead,” Okil said, deadly serious.
Malik now knew why Okil had asked him to sit down. The room spun just a little, and he had to put his hand on the desk to steady himself.
“Me?” he asked.
“Yes, we were struggling to find a replacement mate for Trumin. However, while Darl was looking, a perfect match was entered into the lottery at the last minute. Only the perfect match for her is you.”
Chapter Three – Chrissi
Chrissie arrived early to her job, just as she did every morning. She wouldn’t give Mr. Murgrove the slightest reason not to employ her. Although her intuition told her it was useless; this man was a predator, and she had become his next prey. It didn’t matter about her work—he wanted something more from her.
“Chrissie, how are you settling in?” Fion asked, catching up with her on the way to the lockers. Fion had been responsible for Chrissi getting this job. She had left Saviour a year ago, on medical grounds; the polluted air had damaged her lungs and she wasn’t medically fit enough to go into space.
When the Saviour Project was permanently shut down, and Chrissi was left to find a new life, Fion was one of the only people who understood how hard it would be for her to get a normal civilian job. Chrissi’s references were useless; they showed only too clearly that Chrissi had no experience of working in the real world.
“Good,” Chrissi said as Fion walked by.
“I’m so pleased to hear that,” Fion said.
Desperate for someone to talk to, Chrissi quickly pulled on her overalls, buttoning them up while she ran to catch up with Fion. “The problem is, Mr Murgrove kind of asked me on a date.”
Fion stopped walking and turned to Chrissi. “Not you too!” she exclaimed, although her voice was hushed.
“That’s what I figured. So what are the chances of me keeping this job if I turn him down?” Chrissie asked.
“Slim,” Fion answered quietly. “He's a leech.”
“Great,” Chrissi said.
Fion smiled sadly. “Mr. Murgrove is likely to make your life hell. And then when he’s had his fun, he’ll end your trial. I’ve seen it before.”
“That was what worried me,” Chrissi said. “I guess I’ll have to suck it up and see if I can wear him down.”
“He knows he has complete control, Chrissi. I’m so sorry.” The look in Fion’s eyes told her Chrissi would not keep her job unless she gave Mr. Murgrove what he wanted.
Trying to stay upbeat, Chrissi said, “Thanks, Fion, I should get to work. Maybe we can catch up for a drink sometime.”
“I’d like that,” Fion said. “Maybe Friday?”
“Yes, unless I win the lottery,” Chrissi said flippantly, as she walked backwards, away from Fion, who now wore a surprised expression, her eyes open wide, indicating there was someone behind Chrissi’s back.
Chrissi spun around, right into the waiting arms of Mr. Murgrove. “You entered the lottery?” he asked sharply.
“Yes, last night,” Chrissi said, pulling away from him.
“I am disappointed, Chrissi. I thought we had an understanding, and you intend to run off to another planet. So much for loyalty,” he said, to which Chrissi opened and closed her mouth, at a complete and utter loss for words.
“It was a dare,” Fion said, approaching quickly, trying to rescue Chrissi.
“A dare. Is this true?” Mr. Murgrove asked.
“Yes … yes, one of my friends dared me to do it.”
“And you went along with the dare?” he asked, his voice sounding like her old headmaster at school.
“Yes, you know what it’s like,” she said flippantly.
“No, I don’t,” he said. “But we can discuss it later. Now you should get to work.”
Trying not to think of what would happen later, after she told Mr. Murgrove quite clearly she wasn’t interested in having any fun with him, she settled into her routine. Her job was simple: keep the machines running. Easy—next to the equipment she had been qualified to use during her training with the Saviour Project, this was basic stuff. The worst part was not being able to get her hands on new parts. Many times she had cannibalised old parts and managed to get the machines working again with duct tape and luck.
How long those repairs would last, she didn’t know. However, as long as the machines worked, and nobody got hurt, it didn’t seem to matter too much to Mr. Murgrove. Thinking of him, she looked up to his office and their eyes met. A sick feeling in the pit of her stomach made her turn away and try to ignore him. But his creepy face kept appearing in front of her.
“So what’s the deal with the boss?” she ventured to ask one of the machinists as she tried to unclog a skimmer.
“Deal? Oh, you mean he’s giving you the eye?” the machinist asked. “Happens, thinks he owns our sorry souls. And he’s not far wrong, he knows we need our jobs.”
“That’s just wrong,” Chrissi said, appalled.
Great. How was she supposed to deal with this? She needed the job, she needed him to sign the contract, but she didn’t want to have sex with him. Why the hell had he picked her? She wasn’t anything special, and even during the exercise she put in whilst in training, Chrissi had never managed to whittle away her curvy thighs and voluptuous breasts. Maybe that was the draw, she was curvier than most women, although men were usually turned off by that.
Back to work. She kept her head down, and never let her eyes drift up to his office again. She would get out of here and go home to think things over. And hope she won the lottery. Yeah, because that will make all the difference; she would be swapping being forced to sleep with her boss for having to live with, and sleep with, an alien.
Why the hell had she entered the lottery? Why the hell had they cancelled the space program!
She put her tools away and went to her locker to fetch her purse. But there, waiting for her, was Mr. Murgrove. Her heart sank, and she felt the flutter of nerves in the pit of her stomach once more. Her decision was going to have to be made quickly.
“Chrissi, can you come to my office.” He didn’t ask her; he simply expected her to follow. And she did, reluctantly, all the time looking out for Fion, in the hope she could grab her friend and use her as a chaperone.
Mr. Murgrove held the door open for Chrissi, and then closed it securely once she was inside. The feeling of unease intensified. She knew that most of the workers got out of the factory as quickly as possible, meaning there was a good chance the two of them were the only ones left in the building.
She was at his mercy.
Chrissi shook that feeling off. What was wrong with her, this guy might control her contract, but he didn’t control her. If he made any unwanted advances, she would be able to defend herself. Now she was sounding like a drama queen, like the ones she saw in the Reality StreamShows everyone loved to watch.
“Sit,” he said.
She did as he asked, cursing herself for not staying on her feet, next to the door. But when he went around the far side of the desk and sat down, she began to r
elax. Her imagination had definitely got carried away.
“Now,” he said, taking the same sheet of paper out of his desk and placing it in front of her. “I think we both know how tonight is going to work.”
“We do?” she asked, because she had no idea. She simply wanted to go home and have a shower and some simcoff.
“Yes. We need to get rid of this notion of you entering the lottery,” he said.
“It’s too late, I already entered. Anyway, the chances of me winning are so slim, they are next to impossible,” she said.
“Well, Chrissi. I have this contract here, all ready to sign. But I will not be signing it until I have your assurance you will never enter the lottery again. I do not intend to train you and then lose you to those aliens. Do you understand?” he asked, smoothing his hand over the piece of paper on his desk.
“That is my choice, no one else’s,” she said, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks.
“Chrissi, you see, that is not true.” He smiled warmly, and clasped his hands together, making her feel altogether unnerved. She had trained to go into space, to face whatever might be out there, but nothing could be more terrifying then the looking Mr. Murgrove in the face. “I hold your future in the balance. I could sign this contract, and you will have a job. Or … I could let you go, for some misdemeanour, and make sure you never get a job again.”
Chrissi had no doubt that he would do exactly what he threatened. This man was a bully, pure and simple. Her mind raced, and just as she had been taught to, she went through every possible scenario as to how this would play out. Most of them ended up with Mr. Murgrove with a broken nose, and her having no chance of ever working again. But that had to be better than going along with whatever else he had in mind.
“Chrissi, you are very quiet,” he said. “I hope that’s because you have come to your senses.”
“I have, thank you.” Chrissi said, finding her courage, and her pride. “The thought of not having a job scares me.”
He nodded, looking self-satisfied. “I’m sure it does.”
“But not as much as having to be at the mercy of a man like you,” Chrissi said, pushing her chair back and heading for the door.
“Chrissi, please,” he said, coming towards her. “I’m sorry. I haven’t behaved very well, have I?”
She stopped, thrown off guard by his words. Was he going to retract what he said, would he give her the work contract she needed?
“You can’t blame me for trying,” he said, holding the contract up in front of her. “Please, come and sit back down and I’ll sign it. It was stupid of me to think a woman like you would be so easily persuaded.”
“Easily persuaded? You tried to blackmail me,” she said, knowing she should keep her mouth shut and just wait for him to sign the contract.
“I am a weak man,” he said, smiling in a way that chilled her bones.
“I have to get going,” she said, indicating the contract.
“Yes, of course, you’ll want to watch the lottery results,” he said coolly.
“Yes, I will,” she said, although that was the furthest thing from her mind.
He went back to the desk, and placed the contract down on the smooth wooden surface, reaching for a pen. He signed his name and then said, “If you could just sign here.”
She went to the desk, taking the pen from him, and then leaned over to sign where he indicated. That was when Mr. Murgrove made his move. His right hand slammed her head down onto the desk; his left went to rip her clothes while her head was spinning from the force of the blow. She felt his hand on her skin, touching her back and then going lower.
“When I’ve finished with you, you won’t be eligible for the lottery,” he said, before her elbow went backwards and punched him in the solar plexus.
He stumbled back, gasping for air, and Chrissi stood up, allowing the room to stop spinning. Mr. Murgrove lunged at her, his face red with anger. She brought her knee up and he doubled up again, gasping and holding his genitals.
“You bitch,” he gasped. “You will regret this.”
“You know what, Mr. Murgrove? Even if I never work again, I will never regret teaching you a lesson.”
Gathering her clothes to her, she went down to her locker, took all her belongings out, and put her overalls on to cover the tear in her pants. Then she calmly walked out of the building, head high.
Only when she turned the corner and knew he couldn’t see her, did she double up and puke all over the ground.
Chapter Four – Malik
“You want me to go on the deep space mission?” Malik asked, checking he had heard Okil correctly.
“Yes. I know it’s short notice; you will be leaving in two days. But we are out of options,” Okil said.
“And the Hier Council have approved this. They have agreed for me to go?” he asked. He had heard rumours about Okil, about how he sometimes didn’t comply with the Council. He had even brought a human child to Karal, a boy, which was expressly against the law. So if he was going to go along with this, Malik wanted to make absolutely sure he wasn’t going to get dragged in front of the Council on a charge of treason.
“Yes, of course. Malik, I promise you there is nothing underhand in this. We are desperate, that’s all,” Okil said.
“Why? Why the urgency?” Malik asked, his suspicions raised by Okil’s level of stress. Karalians were usually calm, or maybe it was because Malik was not used to dealing with anyone other than warriors, who were always in control of their emotions. As if to reinforce his agitation, Okil’s skin started to flame, reds and golds flickering across his face.
Quickly he smoothed his complexion, but when he looked at Malik, Okil must have known he would have to give the warrior something more. “You have a high level of clearance.”
“All warriors do,” Malik said.
“Then I will give you some more information, but what I tell you does not leave this room. Do you understand?” Okil asked.
“Yes. You do not need to ask. I have been debriefed in this room enough times to know the consequences of a loose tongue,” Malik said.
“Of course. Yes, I am sure you have a few stories to tell that the rest of us are not aware of,” Okil said, and then took a deep breath. “It concerns the first human to come here. Elissa Sergeant.”
“I am aware of the human, but not her name,” Malik said. The human females bored him, they were nothing but breeding vessels to the Karal. They would be used to breed the next generation of Karalians, merely because his species only ever produced males. The females had died out long ago.
“Well, when Elissa came to us, she had badly burnt hands. Marin, her mate, used the decon’ to mend the skin.”
“A noble thing to do,” Malik said, wondering if Okil was ever going to get to the point. “But I hardly find this to be of a confidential nature.”
“There is more,” Okil said, and Malik half expected him to get up and pace the small room once more, but he didn’t.
“Are you going to tell me?” Malik asked, knowing the daylight would be fading and his downtime would be over before he left this room. He felt slightly irritated by the whole thing. Although he wanted the mission, and would hear Okil out.
“Yes. The skin that replaced the damaged tissue on Elissa’s hands had some of the Karal’s DNA in it.”
Now, this made Malik listen: they had transferred their DNA into the body of a human. “What happened?”
“Nothing. At first. Her hands have the same properties as our skin, the colours, they are present,” Okil said, looking at his own hands, which glowed orange like the setting suns.
“Really,” Malik said. “Is she well? Did it affect her in any other way?”
“Yes, it did … the child she carries is a girl.”
“A girl!” Malik said, his voice louder than he intended.
“Yes, she will be born any day now. Or so we think. The due date is in three weeks’ time, but Darl is convinced it will come early.”
/> “Wait. She is going to give birth to the first female Karalian in centuries?” Malik hadn’t heard much of what Okil had said past the word girl.
“Yes, and with the birth will come calls to end these missions to find a new planet for the humans,” Okil said.
“I can see why. And I’m not sure that I disagree. We will no longer have to find females; we will be whole again,” Malik said, deciding that the mission into deep space was not his problem. He would happily take the mate they wanted to give him, but why risk his life for another species? It wasn’t the Karalian way.
“You don’t think that we owe the humans a chance of survival? They, or at least their females, will be asked to help us, to undergo a procedure, so that they can give birth to daughters as well as sons. Don’t you think we should honour our side of this bargain?” Okil asked and his concern showed.
“I’m not sure I do. Our fathers went out and took what they wanted, took the females they needed. Why do we have to be different?” Malik said.
“Because it wasn’t right. Our grandchildren will grow up with both mothers and fathers, but what legacy do we hand them if they are born of cruelty and slavery?” Okil asked.
Malik thought back to his own upbringing, of the mountains he climbed with his father, the sunsets he watched with him. And of the times when he was alone while his father was away on a mission.
“Maybe you should ask one of the others,” Malik said, rising from his seat.
“Malik, the woman who is your perfect match has only entered the lottery once. If you walk away now, you may wait a long time for a female.”
“I have patience,” Malik said, reaching for the door handle.
“Please, Malik. I am asking you to do this.”
“Why, Okil? Why does it mean so much to you?” he asked.
“Because we can’t say for sure that the Karalian girls will be fertile. We don’t know if we may let the human species slip away, and leave our sons with no choice but to roam the universe looking for mothers for their children. There is too much unknown. I cannot just let us take a chance on this working.”
Taken (Warriors of Karal Book 3) Page 2
