Frost Station Alpha 1-6: The Complete Series

by Ruby Lionsdrake

  “Not my problem,” Arkt said from the bedroom. Thankfully, he hadn’t followed her into the bathroom. “I’m going up to whatever ship you’re going to. That’s the deal. They try to screw me out of our deal, and they’ll find I’m not easy to subdue.”

  She eyed the shelves, sink, and cubbies as they spoke. Too bad she didn’t see anything more weapon-like than the stone bottles of shampoo. A stand by the sink held three drawers. She edged toward it as she tugged her trousers on, dirty trousers that she had little interest in wearing. But she didn’t see any other options. It wasn’t as if any of Makkon’s clothing would fit her.

  “So you’re willing to condemn all of your people for some money?” she asked.

  “Money and a ride off this moon. I’m not condemning anyone more than they’ve already condemned themselves. It was the president’s choice to send a team on that suicidal mission and alert the system to our presence. She listened too much to Brax’s blather. We should have simply taken that ship and escaped, settled down on some other world, disappeared into the general populace.”

  Tamryn doubted more than ten people could have fit in that mining ship, and she was fairly certain there were more Glacians than that. Trying to be quiet, she slid the top drawer open. It was too dark to see much, but by touch, she found a toothbrush, hairbrush, comb, and soap. Her eyes widened when she opened the second drawer and felt the outline of a laser pistol beneath her fingers. Like the rest of Makkon’s weapons, it had the bulk and weight of an antique, but she doubted he would keep it if it didn’t work. She withdrew it and stuffed it into the waistband of her trousers, pulling her shirt out to cover it.

  She pushed the drawer shut and glanced toward the bedroom, only to jerk with a start when she spotted Arkt standing in the doorway. She dipped her hand into the top drawer and withdrew the brush.

  “Almost ready,” she said, trying to sound casual rather than fearful. She waved the implement so he could see it, then brushed it through her hair.

  Arkt strode toward her. She tensed, almost reaching for the pistol, but if by some chance he hadn’t seen her take it out, she didn’t want to alert him to it. She wouldn’t be able to shoot him when they were so close and he was looking at her.

  Tamryn held out the brush. “You want to look good for the Fleet men who come down?”

  He stopped in front of her, the brush prodding him in the chest. She licked her lips and told herself that he wouldn’t hurt her, not if he meant to trade her to her father. The thought did little to reassure her. Arkt had left the lantern in the other room, so he had two hands free if he wanted to grab her.

  “Or, we could just go now,” she said, dropping the brush back into the drawer. At least that was her intent. With her gaze locked on him, it missed the drawer, clunking off the edge and falling to the floor.

  Arkt grabbed her by the waist and yanked the pistol free. She reached for it, trying to use it before he could turn it on her, but as she had feared, he was too fast. He’d already stepped out of reach, and she wasn’t about to leap for him and try to claw his eyes out. That wouldn’t be effective with Makkon, and she doubted it would be with this man, either. She would have to wait for a more opportune moment, assuming he gave her one.

  “I’m beginning to see why Makkon wanted you as his prisoner.” The emphasis Arkt put on the word left little doubt as to the innuendo.

  He held the pistol in both hands, lifting it to shoulder level so she could see it, even in the dim lighting. His hands flexed, and metal squealed, startling her. Before her eyes, he bent the pistol in his grip, destroying it. He tossed it to the floor beside the brush.

  “You try anything else, and I’ll go through with my threat. Strip you naked and carry you up there over my shoulder. I have no idea how long we’ll have to walk before your people find us. Spit freezes before it hits the ground up there. You wouldn’t find the cold appealing.”

  Before she could respond, Arkt grabbed her by the arm and propelled her toward the door.

  “Get moving.”

  He stopped only long enough for her to put on the furs he had brought. He helped her to ensure she wouldn’t dawdle further, and his grip was rough and brusque. Then he shoved her into the hallway.

  She looked toward the end, hoping she would spot Makkon running toward them. But the hall was empty.

  Part 6: Reckoning

  Chapter 26

  Makkon walked slowly back from the meeting. He should have been looking forward to seeing Tamryn again—making love to her again—but he had to inform her that the president had refused to believe she had their interests in mind. The only communication she would be allowed to do would be with her eyes, because she would be tied and gagged during any contact with the military. Her father must believe she was a prisoner and that she would be executed if their demands weren’t met.

  Even if that had been Makkon’s original plan, he no longer agreed with the president. Tamryn had planted that seed in his mind, the idea that they might have something more valuable to trade. Since it hadn’t been twenty-four hours yet and the government hadn’t contacted them again, he planned to take her around to record imagery of the ruins, as she had suggested. Even if the president wouldn’t let her negotiate, maybe Makkon could get more information from her and mention that this had once been an alien outpost on his own. Assuming the president let him talk. Unfortunately, his leaders were still irked at him, both for leaving the others and for bringing Tamryn down here. They worried her father would make a rescue attempt rather than dealing, and that many of their people could be lost if that happened. He wasn’t sure he could disagree with that reasoning.

  Despite his reluctance to share the bad news with Tamryn, his step quickened when he turned into his hall. He imagined greeting her with a kiss, a kiss that might lead to more, especially if she was still naked in bed. It had been difficult to leave her lush curves and warm flesh that morning. Perhaps they could enjoy more lovemaking before going to record those ruins.

  These thoughts disappeared from his mind the instant he opened the door. Before the light fell across the bed, he knew she was gone.

  “Tamryn,” he groaned and slapped his hand to his forehead.

  Maybe the groan was as much for himself as for her. He didn’t have a lock on his door, and it hadn’t occurred to him that he might need it. Down here, there was nowhere for her to go. It took a handprint identification to power the cargo elevator they had come down on with the ship, and if she sneaked out of the complex and into the network of tunnels where he’d once hunted, she would run out of food and water long before she found a route to the surface. Access points to the icy over-world were few and far between, and his people had blocked off all of the close ones when the nuclear attacks had been imminent. Even if by some chance Tamryn found a route to the surface, she would die up there in minutes without the proper clothing and a mask to protect her mouth and nose from the intense cold.

  “Yes, but she doesn’t know that,” he grumbled.

  Why hadn’t he told her? She had to have been thinking of escape all along. Her words about negotiating on behalf of his people might have been a lie, nothing more than a way to buy time.

  Even though he knew he shouldn’t have expected anything else from her—hadn’t he fallen for her in part because of her dedication to duty and her tenacity in pursuing that dedication?—he leaned his hand against the wall. Such disappointment flooded through him that he needed support. He couldn’t believe that all of her enthusiasm the night before had been part of a lie, but what else could he think? This time, her dedication to duty felt like a rejection, and his heart stung.

  A long moment passed, his chin to his chest, before he mustered the energy to realize he had to go search for her. He inhaled a deep bracing breath. Yes. He’d found her before, and he would do so again.

  He tested the air like a hound. Mostly the room smelled of the lingering scent of their sex, but with a start, he realized it smelled of something else, too, something
that was neither his scent nor hers.

  “Someone else was here,” he growled, a new flood of emotions slamming into him.

  Did that mean she hadn’t tried to escape, after all? Had someone convinced her to go somewhere? It might have been as simple as someone offering to take her to breakfast, but he doubted it. He had made it clear to everyone that she was his prisoner.

  Makkon grabbed furs from his chest and a rifle and his bow and arrows from the wall, then slung his axe over his back. He would get a canteen and some of the ration bars brought back from the space station too. If someone had taken her to the surface or into the tunnels, he needed to be prepared.

  Out in the hallway, he sniffed the air again. Yes, she had passed through here and not that long ago. The scent of the other person was familiar, though it took him a moment before the mix of sweat and pheromones unique to each human came together in his mind with memories from the past. Not that far in the past, he realized. He had stood next to Commodore Arkt just the day before.

  Following his nose, Makkon headed along the trail. He had no idea why Arkt would want Tamryn, but he intended to find them both.

  • • • • •

  The cold blasted into Tamryn like a combat shuttle crashing at top speed. In addition to the furs, which included a parka hood that hung low over her eyes, Arkt had given her gloves and a mask that protected her nose and mouth, ensuring she did not have to inhale the frigid air. Even so, the wind needled her even through the layers of clothing, and the cold of the earth seeped up through the soles of her boots.

  Technically, it was day on this side of the moon, with the sun a wan dot in the whitish-blue sky, but no warmth came from that distant orb. Part of her cheeks remained exposed to the bitter air, and she remembered the Glacians’ tattoos, supposedly for collecting light to transform into Vitamin D. She would happily have traded the Fleet ration bars that contained all of the vitamins and minerals a soldier needed to maintain health for fur to cover her cheeks. Even better, she would have preferred her combat armor, with its built-in temperature controls, instead of the furs, but her kidnapper might have had trouble steering her around by the back of her neck if she had been armored.

  Tamryn kept shooting the man glares as they trudged across the cracked glaciers that comprised the surface of the moon, fine particles of snow squeaking under their boots. He needn’t have kept his fingers dug into her neck. Did he think she would try to escape up here? She’d seen that a handprint match was required to operate the elevator, and now that they were on the surface, that cavern entrance a good mile behind them, she wouldn’t have run off even if she could have. Probably. She did worry that she would be back in the role of junior officer once she returned to her father’s ship, or to one of the other ships, and that none of those captains and admirals would listen to her. How could she barter for the Glacians’ lives—for Makkon’s life—from up there?

  Arkt said something that sounded like, “That way.” Between his mask and the wind, making out his words was difficult.

  They turned toward a ravine, steep white walls rising up on either side. Tamryn slipped on the ice and winced when Arkt’s fingers dug into the back of her neck, keeping her upright. She would have preferred to fall.

  Before they entered the ravine, Arkt paused in the mouth and looked back the way they had come. He scanned the bright horizon, the wan sunlight still strong enough to glitter off the icy surface. Without the fur to somewhat protect her eyes, Tamryn would have had a headache, or worse. Snow blindness. That was a thing on some planets, wasn’t it? This place certainly made the home where she had grown up seem idyllic.

  “Someone following us?” Tamryn asked.

  She couldn’t see a thing out there among the white glittering landscape, but she hoped Makkon had discovered that she was missing by now, and that he had come after them. She just worried he would think that she had run away of her own volition, that everything the night before had been a lie.

  “Nobody who will arrive in time.” Arkt shoved her ahead of him.

  The narrow walls of the ravine made her uneasy as she imagined a mountain lion, or the Glacian equivalent, leaping down upon them from above. Then she remembered that this moon had no life anymore, nothing significant, anyway. It was a desolate graveyard, all that remained of the bombing from the previous century. She had a hard time imagining Glaciem as suitable for settlement, even if it had never been scarred by military weapons. Nobody would have voluntarily chosen such an inhospitable place. Would terraforming even work this far out? The Glacians would probably have to harness the hot springs as an alternate energy source to the sun.

  As she traversed the floor of the ravine, movement in the sky caught Tamryn’s attention. Two sleek, white combat shuttles streaked above them. She grimaced, knowing she was running out of time if she wanted to avoid being taken up to a ship. Even if Arkt somehow fell into a hole right now and disappeared, she might not be able to reach the cavern and get the Glacians to let her back down before the soldiers caught up with her. And what would those soldiers think if she ran away from them and into the arms of their enemies? She wondered if anyone had spoken to Gruzinsky or Porter yet, if her father knew that she had been kissing one of the invaders. Somehow that would be even worse than others in her chain of command knowing. He would be so disappointed, and he would have every right to feel that way. If she could negotiate some kind of peace, then perhaps a relationship with a Glacian wouldn’t seem so horrific to others in the future, but if not...

  Arkt directed her toward a ledge on the side of one wall where the shuttles had landed. They had to scramble across uneven ground with massive pieces of ice jutting up like crystals. Tamryn did her best to slow progress, pretending more ineptitude than she had, but her fate appeared inevitable.

  Up ahead, the shuttle doors opened, and a squad of men in arctic combat armor strode out. They would have spikes in the soles of their boots for traction and tinted faceplates to handle the brightness, along with weapons that could fire reliably in this kind of environment. She wondered if the soldiers would deal with Arkt, as he believed, or if they would simply shoot him. She would like to think her people would keep their word, but these were extenuating circumstances; from their point of view, they were dealing with kidnappers and terrorists.

  Protected by their armor, most of the men hopped down from the ledge, dropping the fifteen feet and landing on the ice without falling. Tamryn thought they appeared very capable and suspected her father had sent down a special forces unit.

  “My people can do that without the help of machines,” Arkt said with a sneer.

  “It must be nice to be so special,” Tamryn said.

  “We are your superiors in every way except for numbers. Had we not been so greedy last year...”

  Tamryn reminded herself that he was speaking of the war they had started a hundred and fifty years ago. “Were you there? One of those who started that war?”

  “I was there. Had a few turns of luck gone our way, we might be your rulers today.”

  “Such a shame that didn’t happen.” Tamryn decided those religious zealots of previous centuries hadn’t been totally mindless in turning the genetically engineered soldiers into outcasts. They must have perceived a real threat from people who were so superior—and knew it. Was she making a mistake in wanting to help them? No, not all of them were like Brax or Arkt. Makkon wasn’t. Zar wasn’t. Those kids weren’t. If Makkon had told the truth, most of those who were left behind were the ones who had not wanted to start a war.

  “Halt and identify yourself,” one of the Fleet soldiers said.

  The armor-clad men carried laser rifles, but were not pointing them at Arkt. Of course, he was keeping Tamryn in front of him now, using her as a shield. Some superior genes. The ass.

  “You know who I am and what I want,” Arkt said.

  One more soldier in combat armor stepped off the ledge, this one floating down with jet boots rather than jumping. Was this the squad
leader? The sun did not reach the ravine floor, and deep shadows kept her from seeing through people’s faceplates. The leader joined the twenty men on the ground, and several heads swiveled toward him.

  “I brought the girl.” Arkt reached over and tugged Tamryn’s mask down to her throat. The rush of cold air made her gasp. “As requested,” he continued, “I have no weapons.” No, he preferred to bend weapons in half and leave them on the bathroom floor instead of using them.

  Tamryn squinted, her eyes stung by the icy breeze. Moisture froze, turning to crystals on her lashes.

  “Send her to us,” a new voice spoke, the commander’s.

  Tamryn gaped. The helmet distorted the voice, but was that her father? Had he come down himself, risking attack from the Glacians to retrieve her?

  It might not be very soldier-like, but an urge to run forward and hug him filled her. Arkt’s hand still gripped her neck, too tight to pull away.

  “I’ll have your word first,” Arkt said. “The money and the ride to a more amenable planet or station, as you promised.”

  “You’ll have your ride.” Her father’s voice sounded as cold as the ice.

  Perhaps this wouldn’t be the best time for a hug. Would he be upset with her for being captured? For everything that had happened? She cringed at the idea of disappointing him.

  “I keep my word,” her father said, “But you are aware that we watched you come out of that cave. In dealing with us, you’ve given us the location of your people.”

  “I expected that,” Arkt said. “The president I voted for is long dead. Those who are left...” He waved a gloved hand, the gesture dismissive. “They are the weak, those who had no interest in fighting.”

  “In fighting on the station?” Though her father spoke to Arkt, his helmet was turned toward Tamryn. With the faceplate tinted, she couldn’t see his eyes. She wished she could. What did he want from her? To be quiet and not risk angering Arkt? Or for her to give him some intel?