“Everyone?”
“Everyone. And yet I didn't, and still here I am.” She tapped her chest lightly with both hands. “Until the moment I was abducted by the bastards in a ship just like this, I was unmolested, unharmed, happy, and with great relationships with all those potential killers all around me.”
“Why is that?”
The fact that he sounded genuinely interested was the only thing that made her swallow her angry retort. He genuinely didn't understand. And that frightened her more than anything else. Because it suggested he had never had a relationship with anyone. Ever.
“Because people, on the whole, don't want to live in a world where they have to constantly kill others just in case those same people kill them. It's exhausting, it's horrible, and most of the time, you have relationships with those around you, and you like them. Love them. Hurting them, killing them, is the last thing you want to do.”
“I don't find killing that exhausting or horrible, but then I haven't liked anyone.”
“So why aren't you sure about killing me?” she challenged him.
“I don't know.” He sounded thoughtful. “It isn't simply that we've had conversations. I've had plenty of conversations with the Tecran captain, and some of the Krik.”
“Positive ones?”
“I don't know what a positive conversation is.”
A cold whisper of fear and tragedy washed over her. “A positive conversation would be cordial and constructive, and leave you feeling good.”
“No.” The word was almost a whisper. “That was not the nature of my previous conversations. They were giving orders to me, or threatening me, or I was giving orders or threatening them.”
“So, totally different to our chats.”
“Yes.” He paused. “I felt something different when we spoke. It might be called good.”
“You don't know how to identify when you're feeling good?”
“It appears I do now.”
Imogen couldn't help it. She reached out a hand and touched the drone's lens. “I'm glad.”
“Does that mean you like me?”
“I want to. How about we conduct an experiment? We try to be friends.”
“That seems like it would be more useful for you than for me.” His voice was dry.
She cocked her head at the lens, raised a brow. “Right. Being friends with a psychopathic killer is such a canny move. How about you look at it this way. Investing in a friendship will expand your personal horizons. You will at the very least have insight into others who do have friendships, and you will have access to my advice and help, just as I will have access to yours.”
“That is an interesting proposal. I am eager to see if you are right about it being beneficial to me.”
“Tell me when you think you know.”
She thought he was going to answer her when the drone turned, but it stretched out its long arm, forcing her to stop. A moment later she heard a noise around the next corner. The murmur of voices and the sound of boots walking toward them.
She stopped dead and gripped her electric whip.
All the drones raised their shockguns and one rose up in hover mode, moved silently to look around the corner.
And then started shooting.
Chapter 14
“Krik?” she whispered over the whine of the shockgun.
“Yes, two of them. One got away.”
Imogen watched as the drone who'd been shooting landed back down again and disappeared around the corner. She started to move, but the drone beside her blocked the way.
“Wait.” Paxe's voice was sharp.
“What is it?” She leaned against the wall, tried to hear what was going on.
“I'm having the body moved. Will it upset you to see it?”
She gaped. “Yes.” She crouched down, eye level with the drone's lens. “Thank you, Paxe.”
He didn't respond, the lens zooming in and out, like he wasn't sure where to look.
“How did the other Krik get away?”
“They're fast, and these drones are designed for the cargo bay and the store, not offensive duties. They've served me well, but they aren't battle capable.” He sounded resigned.
“You seem to have an amazing control over them, especially as you're juggling three at once.” Juggling them quite independently of one another.
Again, he said nothing. Then the drone that had disappeared to dispose of the body reappeared, too quickly to have done anything more than simply dump the dead Krik down a side passage.
The other two drones flanked her again, but before she'd taken more than a few steps down the passage, all three of them suddenly stopped, frozen in place.
“Paxe?”
“Something urgent has come up.” His voice was the strangest she'd heard it.
“What's wrong?”
“Perhaps nothing. The drone will be on autopilot for awhile.”
She nodded, not sure what to say, and when she started walking again, they followed beside her.
She wasn't sure if it was because she knew Paxe wasn't personally manipulating them, or whether there was a real difference, but they seemed jerkier.
They passed passages branching off to the left and the right, and she thought she saw a body lying in deep shadow halfway down one of them and hurried on. The thought of the Krik who escaped lurking down one of them wouldn't leave her and she readjusted her hold on her whip and looked behind her often.
No one leaped out at her, and they reached the double doors of the hold in less than five minutes.
All three drones produced their shockguns.
“Do you have to?”
“The prisoners are not to leave.” The words were crisp and clear, but there was no life in them.
Imogen sighed. “How do I open the doors?”
A drone reached across and tapped a small silver device against the screen on the wall and they slid open.
The prisoners were dozing, giving Imogen a jolt. She had no idea what time it was, but seeing everyone lying quietly sent a wave of exhaustion through her and she had to reach out and steady herself against the door frame.
“You are the orange.” One of the thin, insectile aliens, the Fitali, she remembered, was in front of her so fast, she gave an involuntary squeak and stepped back.
The hum of the drones' shockguns ramped up suddenly, and everyone went still.
She very carefully stepped in front of the barrel of one of them. “Don't shoot.”
She looked back, and the drone lowered the shockgun a fraction as the Fitali retreated, hands up to show they were empty.
She remembered Kalor had introduced her to him. She caught his gaze. “I apologize, but I can't recall your name.”
“Chep. I apologize for startling you, we are simply desperate for . . .” He trailed off as the doors closed.
“I've persuaded them to bring you something to eat and drink.” Imogen lifted out the first container of water and Chep took it, then passed it on behind him. They soon had a chain of helpers, passing water around until everyone had some.
“There are nutrition bars, as well.” As she said it, she realized Kalor was nowhere to be seen. “Where is the captain?”
The slim, golden-skinned woman with the sharp teeth stepped in front of her, crowding her. She picked up a bar, and looked at it suspiciously. “What is this?” Her words were irritable, but there was something in the way she stood, a nervousness about her than made Imogen sure she was simply trying to distract.
Ularunda Diot. Imogen remembered her name because it had sounded good on her tongue. She looked beyond the Bukarian and caught sight of a hole in the ceiling.
Her gaze snapped back to Diot's and the wariness in her eyes made Imogen frown.
Kalor wasn't here and there was a hole in the ceiling.
Most likely, he'd escaped, and they were trying to draw attention away from the fact.
She looked down at the drones, and realized Kalor's team had every reason to belie
ve Paxe would be angry about it.
He probably would, but why was she getting the impression they were as nervous she would sound the alarm as the drones?
Why would they assume her loyalty was to Paxe?
She looked over at Chep, recognizing his original actions as the same type of distraction Diot was providing now. He was watching her, tense and ready to move, and she breathed in a deep, stuttering breath.
She'd asked Paxe why he'd singled her out, and he'd prevaricated, giving her a non-answer. But there must be a reason, because at least some of the people here knew what it was.
Maybe that's what Kalor had been trying to tell her when the drones shot him. No, she reminded herself. When Paxe shot him.
The sound of hundreds of nutrition bars spilling onto the floor jerked her out of her thoughts, and she looked over with a frown, saw the drone had tipped the full contents of its box out.
“What . . .?”
“I need to speak to you privately,” Paxe said in English from one of the drones. “Right now.”
She could hear the stress in his voice and she nodded, backed away from Diot and Chep. Some of the prisoners looked at her with gratitude, and, more uncomfortably, reverence, which she guessed came from Kalor forcing her to sing earlier. But there was a coolness, a distance, coming from Kalor's team.
As she stepped back into the passageway, her gaze shifted to Olan, and the elderly scientist gave her a small smile that somehow emphasized the loss of the connection she thought she'd forged with them before.
The doors closed behind her and she crouched down next to the closest drone.
“We will be under attack by a Tecran Levron battleship within ten minutes.” Paxe's voice was the least human she'd ever heard it.
She closed her eyes. “You think it'll try to destroy this ship?”
“I . . . don't know.”
She lifted her head, opened her eyes at that.
“I think the Tecran will try to save it, but if they absolutely don't think they'll get it back, they will attempt to destroy it.”
She looked over at the hold door. “Will you let the prisoners go, then? Before they arrive?”
“I don't have time for that.” Absolutely stone cold.
“Make time.” Imogen leaned in, her nose almost against the lens.
“Why?” There was a challenge in his voice.
“Other than it's the right thing to do?” She bared her teeth. “Okay. If you're looking for more time to prepare, if you let them go, the Tecran will most likely first try to find out who they are, what's going on. They won't attack immediately.”
“There is some logic to that.” He sounded stiff.
She guessed that was a yes, and she was taking it as such.
“If there's only ten minutes, we need to get them moving.”
The drone tapped the screen again and the doors opened. Imogen rose up, realized her grip on her whip was almost painfully tight, and loosen it a bit.
“The person in charge tells me the Tecran are ten minutes away, and that they plan to attack this ship to try and get it back.”
All the murmurs that had started up when the door opened stopped.
“If you follow this drone, it will lead you to the launch bay, and you can get to your vessels and leave as fast as possible. The Tecran will most likely hold fire until you're clear.”
“How big is the Tecran attack fleet?” Ularunda Diot asked.
Imogen shrugged. “I don't know. Something about a Levron battleship. I only know they'll be here soon, and if you want to get off, you need to do it now.”
Diot shared a look with Olan and together they turned to stare at a woman leaning against the far wall.
Their pilot, Imogen remembered. She looked much better than she had done before.
The prisoners started streaming past her, rushing for the open door. A few had to be helped, but the hold was emptying fast.
Olan was swept along with them, the two other Fitalians on either side of him, but Ularunda Diot didn't follow. She moved deeper into the hold, her gaze fixed on the hole in the ceiling.
“Captain Kalor is reconnoitering?”
Diot looked over her shoulder at Imogen's polite inquiry, amusement gleaming in her eyes. “He is. Along with Lieutenant Pren.”
“I have some communication with the person running the ship. I'll see if he can contact them, let them know what's going on.”
Diot looked back at the gaping hole, her fingers tapping in a quick, nervous rhythm on her thigh. She walked right under it, and the way she moved her head, Imogen guessed she was trying to hear if the captain was coming back. When she turned back to Imogen, her face was drawn tight with worry. “They went left. That's all I know.” She hesitated. “You should come with me, to be honest. It's clear you aren't the Earth woman whose presence we were sent to investigate, but you still fall under the parameters of our mission and, in any event, you're welcome onboard our ship.”
Imogen blinked. She hadn't expected that. “Thank you, but I don't think anyone else could persuade Paxe to find the captain other than me, and when I find him and Pren, I'll come with them, if Paxe agrees to let me go.”
“You think he will?”
She shrugged, but no. She didn't think he'd let her go.
“Diot.” The call came from the sulky Garmman she'd been introduced to as part of Kalor's team. He stood in the doorway, impatience in every line. “We need to go.”
The hold was almost empty now, and Diot gave a sharp nod. “I'll see you in the launch bay with the captain and Pren.” The Garmman had already gone, and she moved to the door and disappeared.
There was one drone left, waiting for Imogen outside the hold. “Can you call Captain Kalor and Lieutenant Pren over the ship's speakers or something, tell them to meet their team in the launch bay?”
“No, I can't.” The words were distracted.
“Can't or won't?” She hadn't honestly thought he'd refuse her, and now she couldn't understand why she'd been so optimistic.
It was the core of her personality, but as she'd learned in the last two months, this new world she'd been dumped in was one place she really had no power to influence events.
“I can't. Just like the tubes. Just like the lens feed. The Tecran captain has shut those facilities down.”
She went very still. “Paxe, are you saying the captain of this ship is still aboard?”
“I told you there were Tecran onboard.”
“Yes,” she admitted. “You did.” So he didn't have access to the lenses. Toloco had guessed correctly, but somehow Paxe had still found out about her. “How did you see me, then? When Toloco bundled me down here?”
“Every now and then the captain switches the lens feed back on, just to see what's happening. He knows I have access when he does that, so he keeps it quick, but I was able to see you.”
“And so was he.” She wondered if it mattered that the captain of this ship knew who she was and that she was onboard.
The last of the prisoners disappeared down the passage and she set the information aside. No time for that now.
She started moving left. “What's this way?”
“The engine room.” The drone kept up easily.
She half-jogged, and decided she had no reason not to call out. Time was too short for anything else. “Captain Kalor. Lieutenant Pren.”
She was approaching an end to the passage, a t-junction that would force her to make the choice of going right or left. She heard movement, running, from the left.
“Captain Kalor?”
The drone moved ahead of her, lifting into hover mode and turning to face left when it reached the t-junction. The purple flash of shockgun fire as it hit the drone was so unexpected, Imogen stumbled the last few steps, watching in dismay as the drone fell and lay like a discarded toy.
She'd already raised her whip, so when a Krik stepped out from the corner she reacted on instinct again, swinging her arm down wildly, with no form or con
trol. She would have to teach herself not to be such a scaredy cat and learn a little technique.
Although . . . she looked at the downed Krik, glad she could see the rise and fall of his chest, and blew out a shuddering breath. Learning not to shriek and hit out wildly would be more a matter of pride than anything else, because whatever she was doing worked. She studied the whip. It really was very effective.
And the Krik's face had been almost comical in its disbelief as she'd taken him down.
A sound behind her, quiet and stealthy, sent a prickle of fear rushing down her arms, and she spun, flicking the whip as she did.
Lieutenant Pren's face contorted in a flash of pain, and Imogen cried out, pulling her arm back sharply, but the whip, as she'd already noted, was very effective. Captain Kalor, just behind Pren, was falling, too.
Silence descended as he collapsed to the floor, and Imogen looked around her. She had just thought she was the least threatening being here, and yet, right now, she was the only one left standing.
Chapter 15
She had really messed up.
Imogen righted the drone, but it seemed to be dead. Or maybe just rebooting, because she felt a vibration in the metal as she set it back on its wheels, although she couldn't hear anything.
It meant she would get no help from Paxe. She was on her own.
She ignored the Krik, leaving him sprawled facedown on the floor.
She'd checked both Pren and Kalor, and they were breathing easily, to her enormous relief. Now she pulled and maneuvered them into position on their backs so that she could grab hold of the collars of their uniforms, one in each hand, and stooped over, began to drag them toward the stairs.
They were lighter than they looked for their height and musculature.
Imogen only reached Pren's shoulder, but she was pretty sure she weighed more, even though she was thin by Earth standards after two months in captivity. A difference in bone and muscle density, she guessed.
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