She closed the gap between them. She was so close he could smell her scent and feel the warmth of her body. "You will suffice," she said.
"I think I can do a little better than suffice," he said, flashing his sleaziest smile at her. Let her think she has me.
"Come," she said, sliding her arm under his, guiding him away from his fighter. “You will find no regrets here.”
The Nu ship was the most beautiful, most ghostly ship he’d ever seen. He’d seen his fair share of outer solar system freighters and transportal cargo ships, not to mention the Protectorate Corps’ own malfunctioning fleet of training ships. There was a certain degree of grit and grime that was unavoidable on board a spacegoing vessel. But the Nu ship bucked all his expectations—it was as if it had been built yesterday.
He ran a hand over the bulkhead in his quarters. There was no dust or residue of any kind. The room he’d been locked in was bare, stripped of all luxuries aside from a flat, hard bed. There were no lights, save for the dim light of Alpha Aurigae that came in through the porthole.
There was nothing loose that he could use as a weapon. He’d have to improvise something—there wasn’t a chance in hell he was planning to stay for whatever the Nu had planned. He gazed out of the small porthole. The ship hadn’t moved since he’d arrived. Were they really taking him to Argus?
Conrad sat down on the stiff bed. The fatigue of the last twenty-four hours was beginning to creep into his bones. He leaned back. Sleep when you can, eat when you can, screw when you can, the old maxim went. ’Cause you never know when—or if—you’ll get to do it again.
He wasn’t sure how long he’d been asleep when he felt her above him.
His hand jerked up and seized a pale Nu throat. Inky black eyes looked down at him, unblinking. “A deal’s a deal,” he said to her. “You’ll just have to be patient.”
The room was dark, and he could barely see the outline of her curves. She certainly looked like a woman. Smelled like one, too. He loosened his grip just slightly on her neck.
Suddenly, she forced his shoulders down against the bed. She was inhumanly strong. In another millisecond her lips slid over his, and Conrad jolted up at the touch—
She gasped and slid backward. Conrad scrambled up.
“No,” she said, her black eyes wide. “It is… you.”
Abruptly, Conrad could breathe again. The room had been filled with intoxicating pheromones, and suddenly they were gone. He brushed his mouth on the back of his hand with distaste, and the Nu did the same.
“Do I know you?” he panted.
“No,” she said. “But we know your father.”
Chapter 2
The Nu hive ship looked as if it were alive, its silver and black bands rotating like snakes. It was easily double the size of the average Protectorate cruiser. Conrad calculated the number of ships it would take for the Corps to take down a ship like this, and filed it away for future reference.
If Sanctuary ever engaged with the Nu, it would be a bloodbath.
Surrounded by his Nu escorts, Conrad walked through the umbilical that connected the two ships. The Nu no longer touched him. It was as if there was an invisible shield around him that they refused to breach.
The Nu that met them in the hive ship were of three different types. There were the brown-haired, dark-eyed Nu, with which Conrad was familiar; the new Nu were just as beautiful, but were of two new varieties. One had brilliant platinum white hair, and was as tall and lean as a Kazhad; the other was short with soft red curls and bronze skin. Nonetheless, they moved as if they were one being.
A woman approached Conrad, her red hair streaming down her back. She looked at him with a special intensity.
“What is your name?” she asked.
“Conrad Redeker,” he answered. “Of the Protectorate Corps, Sanctuary system.”
She lifted her chin. “You are of many places,” she said. “But not of Sanctuary, and not of Earth.”
Conrad narrowed his eyes. “How would you know?” he asked.
“You are familiar to us,” she said.
“She—you—said you know my father,” said Conrad, indicating the Nu escort behind him. “How?”
“He was an aberration,” said the Nu. “Do you want to know who you are, Conrad Redeker?”
Conrad studied her. There was no hint of emotion in her face; there was no way to guess at her motivation. “No,” he finally said, crossing his arms. “I don’t give a damn about who you think I am.”
She smiled, and all the Nu around her smiled at the same moment. It was not a seductive smile. “You came here for an exchange,” she said. “Your Kazhad friend.”
“That was the deal.”
She tilted her head. “Your genetic material is unacceptable for our purposes.”
“Hey, now,” Conrad said. “No one’s ever complained about my genetic material before. In fact—”
“You will sire no daughters here,” she said, cutting him off. “But an exchange can still be made. Come with us.” She turned and walked away, the crowd of Nu parting to make way. Conrad glanced at them as he walked through. Their expressions were all the same—blank and neutral.
Daughters, he pondered. That’s what happened to the men they captured—they used them to sire more Nu. It explained why there were so many Nu of the same type. They were all one man’s daughters.
He followed the Nu through endless corridors. It seemed that they had walked for kilometers into the depths of the hive when they arrived at a single wide door.
The Nu looked to Conrad. “To accomplish the trade, you must enter,” she said.
The door slid open. Inside, it was dark, although a faint light came through a small porthole.
There was a figure in front of the porthole—for a moment it seemed to look like a Nu, but then transformed into a pyramid, and then a sphere.
Fascinated, Conrad took a single step forward. The door closed silently behind him.
The shape seemed to take notice of him. It twisted around itself and transformed into the shape of a man—of himself, Conrad realized with a start. It was a glimmering black shadow darting toward him until he was looking into a mirror of his own eyes, a dark statue staring back at him. A shapeshifter, Conrad thought with a shock.
“You,” it whispered. Its voice was rough and deep. “Know you.”
Conrad took one step back. “You know me?”
It reached out to him with a hand that rippled. “Know you,” it said again.
Conrad opened his mouth to speak but no sound came out. The creature exploded toward him, its form dissolving into viscous feelers that coursed over every inch of his skin, infiltrating his eyes, pouring into his nose and throat, burrowing into his ears, saturating his blood.
He was drowning, the creature invading every fiber of his body.
Know you, he heard distantly. Know you…
At the same moment that the creature overtook him Conrad saw into its mind—if it could be called a mind. It was a black hole of need.
It was starving, he realized with a shock. It was hungry for what he knew—his thoughts, his experiences.
He felt it digging up his memories, every scene of his life playing before his mind’s eye. The first memories of life on the trading freighter. Holding his father’s hand. The ship under attack. Being rescued by the Corps. Argus as a pup, and Rose as a young girl.
It pried every memory from the depth of his subconscious. Conrad relived every bruise and burn and broken bone from his Academy years.
It took everything. It swallowed his soul whole.
A heartbeat later, it stopped. Conrad felt the creature lingering in his mind, searching.
There. He wasn’t sure if it was the creature’s thought or his own.
A searing, white-hot pain shot through his brain. It obliterated all conscious thought.
And then for a moment he glimpsed it—a maze. A lattice. Everything, everywhere, all woven together.
What the hell is
that?
A way back, it seemed to whisper.
To where?
To home.
Conrad blinked. He was lying on the floor, his breathing ragged. Every muscle ached. He eased himself up, slowly. The creature had returned to its place beneath the porthole. It was formless again, and silent.
“You survived,” intoned the emotionless voice of a Nu at the door. “It is done.”
“The next time you decide to take a ship for a joyride,” he croaked at Argus, “maybe go somewhere a little nicer. With a beach. And lots of women—real human women.”
The tall Kazhad gripped him to his chest and rumbled with amusement and relief.
“Yeah, yeah,” Conrad grumbled, patting him roughly on his white-and-tan back. “You owe me for this. Don’t think I’ll let you forget it.”
“You will return to your ship,” said the Nu. It was the same red-headed Nu that had taken him to the creature. “You may go where you will.”
Conrad turned toward her. “What the hell was that… that thing?” he demanded.
She was as expressionless as ever. “It is a Locc,” she said simply. “An elemental being of the universe. A devourer. You would not understand.”
“Try me,” said Conrad.
“It was hungry,” she said, her eyes unblinking. “A Locc must be fed, or it will go insane. It had been many years since we have fed it.”
“What did it do to me?” he demanded.
“It took from you, but it has also given you something,” she said. “In exchange for all that you know, and all that you are, or will be. It has absorbed your memories and your thoughts. The Locc are eaters, Conrad Redeker. They must eat to survive, as you must. It has taken a piece of your soul.”
“What did it give me?”
She smiled. He stared at her, realizing that it was Rose’s smile on the Nu’s lips. The Locc had taken his memories indeed—and passed them on to the Nu somehow. Conrad couldn’t look away despite the unshakeable feeling that this was all wrong.
“A curse and a gift. It will save you, and it will bring war upon all the worlds that you know,” she said.
He approached her, but she showed no sign of fear. “You knew my father,” he said. “Did you take him to the Locc? Did you do this to him? Is that why he never came back?”
She tilted her face up to look at him. “You cannot escape what you are,” she said, as mysterious as ever.
They flew toward the portal at low impulse speed, the Nu hive behind them. The portal loomed ahead. On the other side of the portal was Sanctuary. Earth. Home.
“What were you doing out here, Argus?” he asked. They were far enough out from the Nu ship that they could no longer eavesdrop on them—as far as he could guess.
Argus rumbled softly. “Classified.”
“Ah for Chrissakes,” Conrad said. “Have you had a good look at where we are? Forty-three light-years from Sanctuary, almost killed by a bunch of sirens, and you’re talking to me about classified? Do you know what Garrity’s going to do to me for stealing—and almost dumping—one of her crap ships out in this godforsaken wasteland? The least you can do is tell me what you were thinking.”
“Kazhad,” said Argus, finally. “I was looking for Kazhad.”
Conrad shook his head. “Argus, what they did to you was unforgivable. I know it’s custom to toss out the runt of the litter. I know they’ve been doing it for a thousand generations. But I don’t give a shit if it’s tradition. All I know is no truly civilized race would—”
“No,” he heaved. “I came here on orders from Commodore Garrity’s superiors. To communicate with a temporary Kazhad starbase near Alpha Aurigae. Kazhad only speak to Kazhad. You know this. And there are no other Kazhad in the Corps—only me.”
The Kazhad were nomads, never settling in one system for long. It was impossible to even trade for knowledge with Kazhad, and what was known about their language was gleaned from an ancient translation orb bought from a passing P’orc trading ship decades ago.
Conrad watched the portal come closer and closer, like a mouth that was going to swallow them up. “What was the message? And don’t tell me it’s classified. I know it’s classified, and I don’t care.”
“No message. Just a question. The Vehn are attacking non-human ships now. Something big is coming. We must find out what it is.”
“The Vehn only attack humans,” said Conrad. The Vehn were the one threat that united Sanctuary citizens and outer expanse pirates. They feasted on human flesh—and only on human flesh.
Argus made a grunt. “They only eat humans,” he said. “But they’re starting to attack more than just human ships.”
“Did you find the base?” asked Conrad.
“No. Just subparticle residue with a Kazhad signature. The base was there—but something destroyed it.”
“The Nu?”
“The Nu were the ones who rescued me when my fuel cells gave out. If they wanted to kill Kazhad, I would be dead.”
“Why did they save you?”
Argus gave a low-pitched chuckle. “Because I am very handsome,” he said.
“Maybe the Nu lack olfactory systems,” Conrad mused aloud.
The Kazhad chuckled, then fell silent for a moment. “You asked the Nu about your father,” he said. “Did they—know him?”
Conrad’s jaw tightened. “They wouldn’t say,” he said.
“You cannot blame a dead man,” said Argus.
“Blame never dies,” Conrad said, adjusting the fighter’s trajectory. “There are some wrongs that can’t be made right.”
“What happens when we return home?” asked Argus.
“To you—nothing,” answered Conrad. “You did just as you were ordered. They’ll probably throw you a ticker tape parade when we get back to Sanctuary. As for me—” he shrugged. “I don’t give a damn.”
“I’m glad you came, brother.”
Conrad shifted in his seat, uncomfortable. “I always did want to find out what the inside of a Corps prison looks like back on Earth. Compare it to the brig at the Europa IV base. Since Garrity had me scrubbing them out every week with a toothbrush, I feel like I’m getting to be an expert.”
Argus guffawed softly. Conrad looked into the darkness of the portal. “Don’t thank me now. We’re not home yet.”
They were almost at the portal.
Argus touched the life support panel above their heads, rumbling a warning.
“Yeah, yeah,” said Conrad, shoving his hairy arm away. “Of course it’s broken. No, I didn’t do it. Since when did the life support panel work on this ship, anyway? Someday, Argus, we’ll get ourselves a ship that won’t actively try to kill us while we’re out on assignment, but it won’t be until we get out of the Corps.”
Argus made a sound of exasperation. With a deft paw he swiped at the panel and opened it, his claws working at the wiring within.
“Accelerating,” said Conrad, and glanced over his shoulder at the Kazhad. “Can you leave it alone for just a minute? They might just shoot us the second we get back, anyway.”
The starfighter sped up, faint streams of plasma trailing from its exhaust vents. Conrad prayed that the fuel cells would hold out long enough for a Corps ship to find them.
Conrad relaxed slightly at the thought of returning. They were so close—close to being back in Sanctuary. Even if the Corps strung him up for what he’d done, it would be worth it.
The hit the portal at top speed.
Everything went dark.
Conrad opened his eyes. Wait—am I using my eyes?
They were hovering in a place he’d never seen before.
It was black with traces of white. The walls—skies?—seemed to move like rippling water. The universe seemed to expand into infinity before it contracted into nothingness.
And then—air. Rushing into his lungs. Nothing in front of his eyes but the seemingly endless expanse of the Kuiper belt.
“What the hell was that?” he gasped, hands clenching t
he yoke tightly. “Argus—did you see that?”
The Kazhad made a negative sound. “See what?” he responded. “There was nothing there—just the portal.”
“I saw something while we were in there. It was a minute, max.”
Argus examined his instrument panel. “No time has elapsed between entering and exiting the portal,” he said. “All external readings are normal.”
“I saw something,” Conrad insisted. He thought of the Nu’s warning. A curse and a gift.
It was a glimpse of something—something he knew he would have to chase down to the farthest reaches of the galaxy.
Chapter 3
Colonel Ngai laid his hand on the scratched metal table. “You can’t do this forever,” he said, the frustration beginning to show on his face.
Conrad had to hand it to the man. They’d been at it for over eight hours. For the colonel to have lasted so long… well, it was downright impressive. He scratched his head. “I’ve got nothing to say until my own questions are answered,” he said calmly, as if the colonel had just asked him for the weather report.
“It is your responsibility, cadet, to give a true and factual account of your little… escapade. Cadet Nimitz said you encountered the Nu. They haven’t been seen in this system for a decade. If you know something about them, it’s essential that you share that with us. It is your duty to disclose every detail of what you saw, heard, and did.”
“The Corps sent Argus to Alpha Aurigae—the middle of nowhere—for what?”
“That’s classified.”
“I’ve already broken every regulation in the book to do what the Corps wouldn’t do—rescue its own. You think I care?”
“You are being insubordinate, cadet. The consequences of your behavior—”
“Garrity’s already told me I’ll be court-martialed. Not sure how I can make things worse for myself.”
Ngai leveled a solemn gaze at him, then stood up and moved toward the door. “You haven’t spent much time in the field. Things can always get worse, Redeker.”
“We’ll see about that,” said Conrad, as the door latched behind the colonel.
Sanctuary's Soldier: The Darkspace Saga Book 1 Page 2
