She’d freed him from torture. She’d purchased Mystique so that his people had a place to go and did not have to submit to surrender or slavery at the hands of their conquerors. He wasn’t about to let some ridiculous Endekian law prevent him from taking Alara with him on his mission to save Tessa’s race.
In the past, he’d worked his way up the ranks of Mystique’s space fleet by using a combination of discipline and persistence. The hunting instincts he’d learned from his father on his childhood planet of Rystan, a harsh world where the success of the hunt meant bringing home enough food to keep their starving people alive for one more day, had never left him.
Xander had learned that doing a task to his best ability could mean the difference between success and failure. Yet he also understood that determination wasn’t always enough to succeed. Sometimes a warrior had to bide his time, choose the moment to strike to his best advantage. Sometimes, he needed luck. But sometimes a warrior had to make his own luck.
He’d considered using force to take Alara with him. But kidnapping an Endekian would cause an interplanetary incident and complicate his mission, especially if they sent a fleet of warships after him. While he was perfectly willing to negotiate for Alara through political channels, the need for a speedy departure remained his primary concern. If he asked the Federation to intervene, it might be months before anyone important even considered his request.
So as he entered his shuttle where Kirek, his newest crew member, awaited him, Xander decided to keep his options open.
Kirek greeted him with an easy, respectful smile. Although the boy was young for a mission like this one, merely eighteen years of age, he’d been born in hyperspace. He looked like a normal Rystani teen, with curious blue eyes, black hair, and thin arms and legs that had yet to fill out with the full muscles of a warrior. But Kirek had special psi powers that few understood—powers that made him undetectable to machines. The last time Kirek had insisted on joining a space mission, he’d been only four years old, and his help had been invaluable on Kwadii, a planet on the rim where the citizens still believed him to be an Oracle.
“Did Dr. Calladar agree to accompany us?” Kirek turned off his computer console and gave Xander his full attention, his expression intense, almost as if he expected difficulties.
“Endekian law prevents women from leaving their homeworld.” A good commander didn’t let a mere setback heat his temper, so Xander’s emotions were fully in lock-down mode.
Alara had gotten to him. Whether it was her combination of intelligence and hostility or the alluring tilt of her chin, her clearly restrained temper, or the flash of rebellious attitude mixed with sorrow in her beautiful eyes, he couldn’t say. But from the first moment she’d spoken in her crisp voice, he’d reacted in a way he didn’t wish to think about. Instead of recalling how her voice had choked when she’d mentioned the deaths of her parents, he turned to the computer console.
“Why didn’t we know Endekian laws prevented her from coming with us?” Xander asked.
“There is much we do not know about the Endekians, Captain,” answered Ranth, their sentient computer, who monitored billions of conversations simultaneously, both here on the shuttle as well as on Xander’s beloved mother ship, the Verazen. Almost a decade and a half old, Ranth was still forming a personality, but he never shirked his duties. “While they are full-fledged Federation members, they tend to keep their affairs private.”
“So not only are they warlike, they’re secretive.”
Xander used a psi thought on the materializer and helped himself to a cool drink of water, downing the packet in one long gulp. His conversation with Alara had taxed him. Not only had she been argumentative and uncooperative, but she’d seemed as uncomfortable around him as he’d been when he’d learned his mission required him to land on a world he considered enemy territory.
Never had Xander expected to set foot on Endeki, a planet that was home to a people who’d invaded his boyhood village on Rystan. Too often he relived the tragedy in his nightmares. He’d awaken in a sweat, his suit mopping up his perspiration, his heart pounding, his limbs as taut as when he’d still been a child and the Endekians had captured him and shot megavolts of agonizing electricity through his body. If the Terran, Tessa Camen, had not rescued him, he would have died. He owed her a great debt. Not only had she saved many of his people from the invasion, she’d personally risked her life to preserve his. That’s why he’d volunteered for this mission—Tessa and her kind were dying, and he sought to repay a debt of honor.
However, once he’d begun conversing with the alluring Dr. Calladar, he’d noticed much more than her attractive face and body. He’d liked the calm intelligence in her eyes. The way her mind had focused, assessed, and countered his arguments. He suspected she kept a feisty temper in check behind her scientific demeanor. Yet, he also suspected that she could be almost as determined as he—she wouldn’t change her mind.
He couldn’t blame her for her animosity toward the Terrans if what she claimed was true, but the actions of a few terrorists should not color her opinion of an entire race. He did not blame Alara for the invasion of Rystan. In fact, he found her incredibly alluring.
Since arriving he’d learned that Endekian women were incredibly beautiful—and she was prettier than most. With her spiky black hair that surrounded her head like a halo, deep green eyes, and golden skin, she was exotic, yet sensual. He’d have to work hard to remember that her lovely curves encased a brilliant doctor and a hostile woman.
“Ranth, what’s our best option?” Xander asked.
“Define ‘best,’” the computer requested.
Xander thought for a moment. “We need Dr. Calladar with us on the Verazen for this mission, but I don’t wish to start a war. Give me options that fit those parameters.” Then he turned to Kirek. “You earned your berth on this mission by claiming that your presence was necessary.”
“Yes.” Kirek held his gaze but didn’t volunteer more information. He might be a boy, but he’d always had an old soul, a wise soul, and he must have sensed that while Xander liked him, he’d have preferred to bring along an experienced warrior or another scientist instead of a lad who remained dear to so many people at home. While Xander would do his best to bring everyone back safely, he’d already decided that he would give Kirek the most innocuous tasks.
Putting his concern for Kirek’s safety to the back of his mind, Xander gazed at the young man. Xander’s father had taught him to trust his instincts during the hunt. Right now instinct told him that Kirek knew more about this mission than he was letting on. “Why is your presence necessary?”
“I’m not certain, yet.”
Sometimes, like now, the young man vexed him. He often sat too still, just thinking. Yet, other times he seemed lighthearted. But he was never carefree and always appeared to carry too much responsibility on his youthful frame.
Before Xander could question him further, Ranth turned on a holovid, and a three-dimensional map of their current location floated before them. “The Endekian political headquarters are located in the middle of their largest city. Their leader, Drik, possesses the title Kalmata. There’s no direct translation of the Endekian word, but Kalmata means ‘he who is in charge in this life and the next.’ My calculations suggest that the best way to change the law that keeps Dr. Calladar from accompanying us is through this man. Drik’s all-powerful. He’s also guarded by a half-dozen of his most loyal men as well as an up-to-date security system, so we must proceed with caution.”
“Kirek, get me Tessa on the hyperlink,” Xander ordered.
Tessa’s face appeared on the vidscreen, the circles under her eyes darker than when Xander had left the week before. Despite the suits that fought off illness and added longevity to normal life spans, Tessa looked unhealthy, and her husband, Kahn, who stood beside her, appeared to be putting up a businesslike front, unti
l Xander stared into the other man’s eyes and saw the pain-wracked shadows.
Yet Kahn hadn’t lost his steely determination, and Xander squared his own shoulders under his scrutiny. Although the Terrans were searching for answers to cure their sickness on many fronts, biological, medical, and even spiritual, Xander knew Kahn and Tessa were counting on him to save her and her people.
“What’s up?” she asked, her Terran slang automatically translated by his suit into Rystani.
“No one’s fired on us yet.”
“We do have a peace treaty.” Her voice had cracked. Slightly, but he’d noticed. How much time did Tessa have left before she succumbed to the breakdown of her DNA, caused by exposure to pollution during her many trips back to Earth? Her people, who lived there full-time, were much worse off. Tens of thousands had already died, and the numbers were expected to escalate into the billions if a cure wasn’t found. Doctors were doing their best. However, medical scientists, geneticists, and biologists agreed that they required a pure form of Terran DNA to replicate, a DNA that had not been damaged by pollution. While finding the Perceptive Ones and the original DNA strands was a long shot, it might possibly be the Terrans’ best chance of a cure.
“We can’t rely on Endekians to honor their word, but I’m forced to deal with them. I need to see Drik, the Endekian leader, and convince him to change a law that will allow Dr. Calladar to accompany us,” Xander explained, then followed up with more details.
Kahn leaned over Tessa’s shoulder. “We don’t have time for politics, and I’m not too concerned about violating their laws. With the new defensive armaments we’ve purchased, we won’t be defeated so easily this time.”
From Kahn’s tone, Xander could tell the warrior was spoiling for a good fight. No doubt his frustration and helplessness over his ailing wife’s condition exacerbated his ire.
Tessa squeezed Kahn’s hand. “I appreciate that you’re willing to go to war for us, but that should be our last option.”
Before her husband could insert another word into the conversation, she smoothly continued, her eyes sparkling. “Do you think Drik might be open to a bribe?”
“Possibly.” Xander frowned. “But are we still going through diplomatic channels?”
Tessa shook her head. “The Osarians have some dirt on one of the locals. Let me see what I can do.”
Five minutes later, Tessa used the hyperlink to call back. “Be at the Kalmata’s villa in exactly six Federation hours, right after the shift change. The new men will be sleepy.” Tessa grinned. “Apparently Endekian guards customarily accept free food from local eateries. The food will be drugged. You shouldn’t have to kill anyone to slip by.”
“Good.” Xander nodded, yet he would miss the opportunity to do battle. Last time he’d dealt with Endekians, he’d been a child. As a man, he’d enjoy taking on several of them.
Despite his attempt to appear stoic, he must have revealed his inclination to bust open a few heads. Either that or Tessa knew Rystani men too well.
She laughed. “Don’t look so disappointed, Xander. I suspect on this mission you’ll find other enemies to fight.” Her gaze moved past him to Kirek, and her eyes brightened. “Keep a close watch on that boy.”
“He’s no longer a boy,” Xander contradicted, unwilling to admit that he would do just that, especially since Kirek could hear every word.
These past few years, Tessa’s illness had kept her close to home and Mystique, but her words revealed that she’d lost none of her protective instincts. Xander had heard rumors that she didn’t want to bear children until she was certain she’d live long enough to raise them.
“He’s not yet a man, either. He’s only a few years older than you were when the Endekians captured you,” Tessa reminded him, as if he could forget.
But Tessa didn’t usually waste expensive hyperlink time on small talk or on telling people how to do their jobs. He suspected she had an ulterior motive for the chat.
As mission leader and captain of the Verazen, his starship orbiting above Endeki, Xander was responsible for the safety of every member of his crew. Although the scars on his mind had lasted far longer than the ones on his body, he would put aside his hatred—for her sake and the sake of this mission.
“Don’t worry, Tessa. When I go to Drik, I will do so with a cool head.”
“And a ready weapon,” Kahn added.
Always the warrior, Kahn remained protective of every Rystani. But the warning in Kahn’s tone was clear. Endekians couldn’t be trusted.
In the Milky Way Galaxy
THEY ALL need to die.
The Endekians? The Terrans? The Rystani?
I said—all of them.
Let us not be hasty. I have no wish to—
You don’t want to admit that your plan has flaws. That you’re behind schedule. That the grand experiment has failed because they are not worthy of our time.
Can you not see their potential?
Potential? Bah. Potential is not quantifiable.
But that is exactly why we must continue. We must determine if they are meritorious. See if we can determine precisely if they have it within themselves to elevate to the next level.
They prefer to think short term and stay as they are.
Not all of them. A few will evolve and lead the others.
You have proof?
Not yet.
You have a test in mind?
Let me consider it.
Do not consider for too long. The entire situation grows tiresome and unwieldy. Unless we see progress soon, it would be kinder to let them die.
Kinder? Bah. Don’t pretend to a compassion you no longer feel.
We must make a decision. Move on.
Not . . . just . . . yet. I shall prove you wrong.
ALARA TURNED ON the flitter’s autopilot and headed home. With every nerve on fire, she longed to use her psi on her suit. A few adjustments, and she’d have the release her body so desperately sought . . . but a quick orgasm would only make the next buildup arrive more quickly, and it would be more intense. Science and experience told her that the best way to handle her escalating lust was to find a male, spend several hours with him until she was in the deepest trance of Boktai, and allow her cells to completely regenerate.
However, since her lungs had cleared of the Rystani male’s scent, since her eyes no longer looked upon his wonderfully built body, her senses had calmed enough for her to regain a bit of control over her need. She had won herself time to find a mate. Although the last man she’d joined for Boktai was away at a scientific conference, she had no wish to seek him out again—the morning after their last encounter had been most unpleasant. If her body hadn’t driven her into Boktai, she would never have considered him as a partner.
No matter how many times her friends told her that worthiness had nothing to do with Boktai, Alara couldn’t forget the lopsidedness of her parents’ marriage. Her mother had adored her father endlessly, but he only reciprocated during Boktai. The rest of the time, he’d treated her with indifference, coldness. Her mother had told her all marriages were like hers, and it was the price women paid for being women. Alara had believed her. Until she’d spoken to other women from other worlds, read their literature, immersed herself in other cultures. Until she’d learned that the Endeki way was the exception—not the norm.
For the moment, frustration and sadness over Endekian women’s fates filled her and perhaps helped keep Boktai at bay. No other intelligent humanoid race in the Federation had to submit to biology like theirs, and Alara’s determination to find out why Endekians were different filled her life with purpose.
She landed the flitter on her rooftop and entered her oversized suite. Many professional women shared quarters, but she liked the privacy of her own space and appreciated that she could easily aff
ord it, thanks to her talent for finding and selling rare artifacts.
Her apartment was laden with treasures she’d collected over the years from small shops and bazaars. The shelves displayed her assortment of robots in various shapes and sizes as well as delicately carved reptiles sculpted from the finest marbellite, a doll collection made of bendar, rows of miniature avabirds, Tatari rugs woven of the finest silk in Nacene, toy flitters, and rare pink pearl pebbles from Daran Beach. Her most exotic and dearest possession was a perfect bowl of ancient Lassa art, from her home village that had been destroyed in the bombing. She probably had the best Lassa pottery on Endeki and was proud that she’d lent some to a museum to share with the public—the rest she’d sold to fund her laboratory and research.
Surrounded by her lovely collection, with interesting friends in her life and busy with her research, she was happy despite the tragedy in her past. She lived as she wished, often staying up late at night to work. Since she lived alone, her suite taking up one entire floor of the building, she didn’t have to worry about disturbing neighbors. With her own private rooftop entrance, she also didn’t have to notice their personal activities. She needed no reminders of the way women needed men to survive, especially since she was no different.
Her suite usually soothed her. Never neat, the rooms were cluttered with her latest finds. On one recent buying trip, she’d brought home a multitude of unusual plants she intended to study. One that held particular promise was a lichen that adhered to rock. Right now, she headed to her favorite spot to relax. She’d turned an extra sleeping chamber into a giant bathing facility. Although the suit kept her perfectly clean, Alara liked to soak in water. With scented candles, the lights dimmed, and soft music soothing her flustered nerves, she had all the accoutrements to accompany her fantasy.
The Ultimatum Page 3
