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Alien Hostage

Page 10

by Tracy St. John


  “I didn’t know Maf had a son.”

  “Most don’t. It is kept quiet since our mother Feyom is clanned to my fathers.”

  Tasha wondered at Ket’s casual attitude. Most Kalquorian men would think it the height of dishonor for any of their parents to cheat on their clanmates. Ket seemed to not care his mother had slept with the Basma and had a son outside her clan.

  That was neither here nor there at the moment. Her one aim was to gain a measure of Ket’s trust so he’d be sloppy later. “You and Maf’s natural son are a big part of the rebellion?”

  Ket snorted and spit on the ground. Tasha hid her repugnance as he snarled, “My brother is too stupid to appreciate his father. He worries about his reputation. The fool doesn’t realize his biological sire is a legend already. But I ... I have taken his place. I am not the Basma’s blood, but I am more a son to him than Falinset. I will be the heir to Maf’s kingdom.”

  He spoke with fervent hope. Too much of it. Tasha thought that the Basma had not given the role of son to Ket at all, that the Nobek was still trying to make that ached-for relationship happen.

  Ket looked her up and down with more interest than she liked, putting a stop to her ruminations. Tasha’s mouth went dry to be ogled with overt lust, and she was hard pressed to keep from recoiling.

  Ket said, “The Basma will have no further use for you once he gets that vid of the princess made. You are going to be very popular when that happens. The rest of the men are already talking about how good it will be to feel such a soft, yielding body instead of these other bags of bones.”

  Tasha didn’t try to hide the dismay in her tone. “I’m not looking forward to that.”

  Ket laughed hard at her comment. Apparently Tasha’s dislike of her future rapes was hilarious to him. “Perhaps we will disappoint them. I can be nice to Earthers who are nice to me. Things like protection from the other men, a little extra food, a whole night in a soft bed, or even a real bath.”

  He acted like he was being magnanimous, offering her basic rights and sustenance. Tasha managed to give him a look that spoke of fear and hope and conciliation.

  “I can be nice,” she said.

  Ket snorted. Still holding Tasha close with one arm, he groped her breasts with demand. He twisted and squeezed, his abusive grip hurting her. Tasha winced but made no effort to escape. In fact, she burrowed closer to Ket, hanging onto him. She held his gaze with frightened, beseeching eyes while her heart pounded with rage.

  I will cover myself in your blood. I will dance on your rotting corpse. I will laugh at the music of you screaming for mercy.

  Her chest throbbed when Ket finally quit mauling it. His hand peppered her cheek a couple of times, more like slaps than pats. He wore his smug smile again, the smile that said the world belonged to Nobek Ket. He held her as if claiming his latest possession.

  “You can be nice, can’t you? I look forward to finding out how nice you are. Until then, Imperial Cousin.”

  He let go of Tasha at last, offering her a mocking bow and a wink. Then he turned and swaggered off, King Ket of the Basma’s dirt compound.

  Tasha watched him go, reaching inside her blouse to adjust the bra he’d shifted around during his brutal pawing. She didn’t feel the pain of the bruises he’d inflicted or the robbing of her dignity. She felt only fury.

  She looked herself over to make sure everything was covered and in place as it should be. Satisfied with her appearance, Tasha muttered under her breath, “You will find out exactly how nice I am, Ket. I will happily kill you with my kindness.”

  * * * *

  Tasha brushed Noelle’s hair until it shone more like pure silver than steel in the dying light from the barracks’ open doorway. She ignored the ache in her left breast, though every movement of the arm on that side made it dig in deeper. Ket had provided the brush she wielded, giving it to her like the keys to a castle. She’d thanked him submissively while imagining jamming it down his throat.

  Most of the other women gathered close by. Amy stood sentry at the door, watching the goings on. The vid crew had arrived and were busy setting up in the compound. Tasha knew there had been some discussion about moving the recording site since the yard was so incredibly grim, but Maf’s orders had been clear before he, Sitrel, and Feyom left: under no circumstances was the princess to be removed from the containment area.

  Things were being brought in to dress up the set, to make it look like Noelle was being kept in comfort. What exactly those preparations were, Tasha didn’t yet know. She thought it odd that they would shoot vid outdoors so close to nightfall, however.

  She finished brushing the little girl’s hair. It lay like liquid metal down the back and shoulders of the velvet navy dress Maf had provided. The dress brought out Noelle’s eyes, giving the purple a distinctive bluish cast. For all the trauma the child had endured, she looked beautiful.

  Noelle sat on one of the sleeping pallets closest to the door. Tasha knelt at her feet so she could easily look her in the eye. She gave Noelle an encouraging smile.

  “You know how to be brave, don’t you?” she asked quietly.

  Noelle regarded her with a gravity that seemed far too old for her. “Like my fathers and their fathers. Like my mother. Like Aunt Lindsey when she had to fight to live on Earth after Army-geddin. Like you and Cissy were on Earth too. Like Wayne at training camp.”

  She had heard the stories of her family’s exploits. Kalquorians liked to share the lessons they and their ancestors had learned to entertain and teach their children. Tasha could tell Noelle felt pride in her family of survivors.

  Tasha nodded. “You come from a long line of warriors and great leaders. Now it is time to add your name to the brave members of the Imperial Family. Can you do it?”

  “I am ready.” A slight tremor ran through the little girl’s body, but Noelle stuck her lower lip out. It was her stubborn look, the one that even Jessica dreaded to see. Tasha took grim delight in seeing the expression.

  “Good. Here’s what’s going to happen, Noelle. We are going to make a vid for Mommy and your fathers. You will be told what to say by the bad men. Say whatever they want you to.”

  “Obey them,” Noelle confirmed.

  “You are pretending to be a good girl for them. It’s no different than pretending with your dolls.”

  “Are we going to do something to them?” Excitement made her eyes sparkle for the first time since they’d been taken.

  Tasha shook her head. “We can’t fight them, sweetheart. Most of them are trained Nobeks. So we have to try our best to escape.”

  Noelle’s face pinched with the effort of concentration. “Okay.”

  “When the time is right, I will either pick you up and run or I will tell you to run. I need you to be ready for that.”

  Noelle’s expression became concerned. She looked at the other women surrounding her. “Are we all going?”

  Tasha’s throat closed up. It was Sonia who answered, “Not yet. We’ll get you out and then we’ll come later when we can.”

  “I don’t want to leave you here with the bad men.” Noelle’s stubborn face was back.

  Sonia gave her a wink. “It’s only for a little while. If you escape, you can tell your parents to come rescue us. That will help even more.”

  Tasha recovered her ability to speak. “They won’t be left here for very long, Noelle.” She said it with determination.

  Sonia’s look was cynical. She didn’t believe anyone would leave alive. None of the women did, but they were all okay with it. They’d had enough of Ket and his horrors.

  Amy scurried from the door to stand next to Sonia. “Here comes Ket.”

  Tasha looked Noelle over with a critical eye. The little girl showed no sign of tears. Her young face wore a look beyond her years, one of determination and intent. It was the same expression everyone else had.

  Tasha nodded her approval. Noelle was the daughter of the Imperial Clan, all right. “Okay. Just do what I tell you a
nd we’ll be okay.”

  She stood as Ket entered the shelter and hoped she hadn’t lied to the child.

  The women silently shrank away from the Nobek’s approach as he made his way to Tasha and Noelle. His bow to the child held no respect at all, his smile a hateful leer. “We are ready for you, my princess. You may step outside.”

  Tasha held her gaze as she took her by the hand. Side by side, they walked towards the door. As she passed Ket, he grabbed Tasha’s ass, squeezing hard. She restrained an urge to punch him in the crotch. The armored formsuit would keep him protected in any case.

  They stepped out into the yard. Near the far corner of the shelter, a vid projector had been set up to display a background of a well-appointed room. A large stretch of carpeting covered the dirt before it, and a seating cushion sat in the middle of the tableau. Through a vid recorder, it gave the illusion of serene, cozy surroundings.

  Shooting outdoors at night made more sense to Tasha now. There was plenty of room out here for all the equipment, something the cramped shelter wouldn’t have allowed for. Since the set looked like an indoor room, they had perfect control of the artificial lighting one would expect in such a setting, negating the need for sunlight. She had to admit grudging respect.

  The vid crew paid little attention to Tasha and Noelle’s approach. A Dramok in a blue tunic and matching trousers squinted at the sun, its upper curve just visible over the stretch of trees beyond the lone mini-shuttle on the landing pad. He barked a series of orders in Kalquorian at his crew, which was made up of two more Dramoks and an Imdiko. As they scurried around, he turned his gaze to Tasha and Noelle. His expression was critical as he eyed the little girl.

  Tasha’s grasp of Kalquorian was modest, but she picked up enough to understand what the Dramok – apparently the director of this farce – said to his men. “Okay, get that backdrop locked in and double check the monitor for scan lines. Bring those toys over. She needs to look like she’s being well cared for.”

  As they flew about the set to finish putting the final touches together, Tasha glanced over her shoulder. Ket moved to hover over the director of the vid, his interest avid. The rest of the women filed out of the barracks, their expressions those of the curious bystanders who wanted to see what all the fuss was about. They spread out in small groups around the scenery, keeping back for the moment. They’d move in closer once the vid started recording.

  The security guards were gathering too, moving so they could see what was going on. A jolt of satisfaction filled Tasha’s heart as the containment field was partially disabled long enough to allow the sentries on the outside of it to enter into the yard for a closer look. She’d noticed and Sonia had confirmed that the guards tended to be lax when Maf or Sitrel were not around. They pretended to take the threat of the beaten Earthers’ chances of escape seriously only then. It was a mistake Tasha was ready to capitalize on.

  The vid crew finished their setup, and the director motioned imperiously to Tasha. “Okay, put the princess on the seating cushion.”

  Ket watched as Tasha coaxed Noelle to her place and arranged her skirt to flare out prettily around her. He asked, “Where is the cousin going to stand?”

  The Dramok in charge waved him off, his expression irritable. “She’s not to be in it after all. The Basma says to let the royals wonder about her.”

  Ket scowled at him and Tasha with equal dismay. “Damn it. You mean I could have been enjoying her all along?”

  Tasha ignored the man’s obvious exasperation and what it could mean to her if the plan didn’t work out. Noelle’s eyes were beginning to dart around, showing her growing anxiety. Her hands clutched at her dress’ skirt, wrinkling the fabric.

  Tasha soothed her. “It’s okay. I’ll be right over there, out of the recorder’s view. Just do what they tell you, sweetheart. It will be over soon.”

  Noelle took a deep breath and visibly fought for the assurance she’d had moments ago. Tasha didn’t blame her for the attack of nerves. She was only a little girl trying to be brave. And she was brave, braver than many adults Tasha had known in her life.

  Noelle found some reserve of strength. She pointed her little nose in the air and looked every bit like the princess she was. She gazed at the man pointing the recorder at her with poise befitting an older person.

  Tasha patted her shoulder and backed out of the scenery. As the vid-man adjusted his distance and focus at the director’s behest, Tasha looked all around with interest. She pretended to be impressed with the setup. In reality she marked where everyone stood and made sure the avenue of escape she’d selected was still clear.

  The women were where they needed to be. Sonia and Amy stood close to where Ket shadowed the director, making the Dramok more impatient as he asked questions and voiced unwarranted suggestions. The other women were in close proximity to the knots of Nobek guards who had gathered to watch.

  Tasha estimated five feet stretched between the background vid and the corner of the shelter. Through that space, Tasha saw the containment field’s border several feet away, with no sign of security manning it. And why should it be? The containment couldn’t be breached without using a key in the panel on one of the poles. Tasha gazed at the one rising behind the solid-looking vid projection.

  It couldn’t be better if she’d ordered the situation. Ket driving the director crazy was an added bonus for its distraction.

  The Nobek said, “Maybe I should be in the shot. Just from the chest down so they can’t see who it is, but something to give them the idea of danger she’s in.”

  Tasha quelled the urge to smirk over Ket’s obvious desire to be front and center for a smidgen of fame. His narcissism was huge, just as the others had said.

  The Dramok gave Ket an impatient look. “That’s not what the Basma decided on. I’m following his orders to the letter. He knows what he’s doing.”

  Ket deflated. Disappointment gave way to anger as he looked around. Seeing the women gathered, he gave them threatening looks. They cringed in outright fear at his hectic stare, and for an instant Tasha thought they might lose all their courage and slink away. Yet though they cowered, not a single one moved away from the spot she’d staked out. When Ket turned his attention back to the director and the nervously waiting Noelle, they all straightened and intent returned to their expressions.

  The Dramok director approached Noelle, giving her a saccharine smile. His voice pitched ridiculously high as if he spoke to a baby, he said, “Hello my princess.”

  The little girl eyed him. In a small but authoritative voice she answered shortly. “Hello.”

  Her commanding attitude made the Dramok more ingratiating. “That’s a pretty dress you’re wearing. Do you like it?”

  Noelle was not a prissy girl by any means. Most of her wardrobe consisted of play clothes, not frilly precious pieces like what she wore now. However, she remembered the role she needed to play and told the director politely, “It’s very nice.”

  “We have toys for you too. Would you like to hold one while we record you?”

  Noelle looked over the choices laying at her feet. She pointed. “Yes. The doll please.”

  The Dramok picked it up and handed it to her. She sat it on her knee and fussed over its dress as Tasha had arranged hers.

  The Dramok beamed a fake smile. “That’s nice. Listen now, my princess. I’m going to tell you what to say, and you repeat it back to me. What we’re going to say will make your mother and fathers feel happy. They’ll see you wearing a new dress, holding a nice doll, and they’ll know you’re safe. And after we’re done, you can keep the dress and doll and all the rest of the toys. Okay? Can you do that?”

  Noelle glanced at Tasha for a moment before dipping her head in a regal nod. “Yes. I will repeat what you say.”

  The director applauded her, and his crew joined in. Tasha noticed the Imdiko and one of the other Dramoks exchanged sickly looks with each other. They were obviously not happy about the situation, and Tasha wondered
if they would turn against the Basma once this was over. Too bad neither man looked capable of nor willing to fighting the Nobek soldiers. The women were still on their own against their captors.

  The director praised Noelle in that high, false tone. “Good girl! Let’s get started.”

  He moved back to stand behind the Dramok handling the vid recorder. He started barking orders again. The Imdiko crewmember adjusted a reflector to bring more light to Noelle’s staid face. The third Dramok adjust the machine he manned, earbuds wired from it to his ears. Ket and the guards watched the goings-on with rapt attention.

  Tasha looked to Sonia and Amy. Their eyes met hers. She gave a slight nod.

  The director finished yelling at the rest and looked to his monitor. “All right, my princess. The first thing I want you to say is—”

  “You stupid bitch!”

  Amy’s yell interrupted the Dramok. The redhead sprang at Sonia, her hands reaching as if to throttle the thin woman.

  The next second the two women were on the ground, rolling around in the dirt and fighting each other. They crashed against the stand holding the audio machine. It wobbled and headed for the ground. Its attendant Dramok dived to catch it. The two women kept grappling, knocking into Ket and the startled director as well. The other women started screaming, and they converged on the fighters as if to separate the pair. They knocked over the Imdiko holding the reflector in the process.

  Tasha moved the instant she was sure everyone’s attention had diverted from Noelle. She ran to the little girl, who had flung the doll on the ground and gotten to her feet. She looked to Tasha, her eyes wide. Tasha reached her and swung her up in her arms.

  “Hang onto me, baby.”

  As Noelle’s arms squeezed tight around her neck, Tasha ran straight for the vid projection. She raced through it and behind its cover, heading straight for the nearest containment pole.

  As she ran, she drove her hand between her body and Noelle’s, though the child clung like a burr. Tasha’s fingers dug into the left cup of her bra, finding the metal key she’d stolen from Ket’s pouch earlier that day when he’d pawed her tits. It had been digging into her breast all damned day.

 

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