Rystani Warrior 02 - The Dare

by Susan Kearney

  “You know computers from the inside out better than anyone else.”

  “Not better than Ranth. He has a lot of technical expertise I couldn’t fit in this brain.”

  “But you have a unique outlook and might help us figure out what’s going on. One of our archaeologists has a theory I’d like you to hear.”

  Excited by the idea of spending more time with Zical as well as helping, Dora had no difficulty making the decision. “Okay. I’ll go with you on one condition.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Kiss me.”

  Zical sighed and shook his head. “You have a one-track mind.”

  “So, do we have a deal?”

  He put her off with a frown. “You figure out what those machines are for … and then … I’ll kiss you.”

  THE TRIP TO Mount Shachauri’s peak clearly tired Dora. From her increased trembles and spasms, Zical suspected she fought a multitude of fears, but to her credit, she didn’t once complain. Tessa had been pleased that Dora had agreed to make the journey, but Zical had kept their bargain private, telling himself that kissing Dora would probably put an end to his fantasy for good. Kissing her might be exactly what he needed to chase his lusty thoughts from his mind.

  Still, he wondered why he hadn’t asked her for something in return if she didn’t figure out the puzzling mystery surrounding the machines. It wasn’t like him to miss an angle, but Dora had his conflicting emotions so muddled he felt like a null-grav bouncing ball.

  He told himself that he should never have agreed to kiss her. He shouldn’t have led her on when he had no intention of having that kind of relationship. Dora might have the body of a full-grown woman, but emotionally she had a lot of maturing to do. Her silly threat to search for a lover, her insistence she was ready for a kiss, her consuming desire to link with Ranth instead of exploring her humanity, told him she wasn’t grown up. Zical didn’t want to repeat his mistakes. He’d had little choice when he’d married his child bride, and he still bore the internal scars of that failure. While Dora was nothing like Summar, both woman were vulnerable, Summar with her inability to make decisions, Dora at coping with her new humanity.

  Yet, what would kissing her would be like? Would she set off sparks?

  Dora seemed so eager to explore the sexual side of being human, yet when it came down to the act, would she be afraid? Find mating distasteful? Would she pretend to welcome him and then rain a storm of tears afterward like Summar? At the memory of his failure to please his inexperienced, young wife, he shoved aside the bad memories. Zical had no doubts that he was a thoughtful and skilled lover. Summar had simply found lovemaking distasteful. He shuddered at the recollection of her begging him not to touch her and was grateful for the distraction of their arrival on Mount Shachauri.

  As the skimmer glided in for a landing on the newly built pad, he pushed old regrets and sorrows aside. Ever since he’d found the ancient entrance he’d felt compelled to remain near the site.

  However, unlike the first time he’d explored, they had to make their way past reporters from a dozen planets that camped out on the mountain, hoping for news or an official briefing, perhaps capturing unusual activity into or out of the core. Zical attracted little speculation since the reporters were accustomed to his presence, but even though the reporters couldn’t immediately identify Dora, her beauty had them setting their holovids on capture-mode.

  He wondered if she’d wave or smile for the cameras, but she kept her head down and ignored the commotion, surprising him. He’d have thought she’d revel in the attention, but it seemed to matter little to her. If he hadn’t known better, he would have thought her shy as she tried to hide behind him as he greeted security.

  A guard at the entrance checked their identification before admitting them. Protection of the site was tight and would remain so for some time.

  Until Mystique’s leaders knew the purpose of the ancient machinery and understood the significance, if any, of the machines turning back on, they wouldn’t risk spies stealing, looters thieving, or other unauthorized scientists trampling what could very well be a holy site. Zenon Prime had already sent a delegation of scientists, who overlooked their distaste of travel, to the newly colonized planet to ensure the Mystique locals didn’t botch an investigation that could have consequences throughout the galaxy. However, unlike the last two ancient finds—which had yielded their environmental suits and the planet where the Challenge, an ancient test devised to see if a species was fit to join the Federation took place—no good had yet come from Mount Shachauri.

  As often as Zical told himself to have patience, whenever he thought about the discovery, a strange restlessness infused him. Although the effects had abated somewhat, he’d never completely recovered from the haunting erotic dreams of Dora created by the aliens’ golden light.

  Inside the corridor his urgency increased along with his agitation to learn why this place existed. So far the scientists had many theories, none of them verifiable, most at odds with one another.

  By his side, Dora shivered and rubbed the goose bumps from her arms. “Being here in the flesh is very different from seeing the machinery as I was before.” She kept her voice to a soft murmur. “The site has a mystical quality.”

  Zical glanced at her, impressed with her keen instincts. “So you feel it, too.”

  Dora sneezed. “Maybe it’s the dust.”

  “Adjust your suit’s filters,” he reminded her. Although the suits had the ability to protect the wearer from light, heat, and tiny particles of matter, many of the adjustments weren’t automatic and required the higher brain function of psi. Dora had possessed psi powers as a computer, but she needed the reminder to adjust for the needs of her body. In space, a mistake like that could kill her. Federation citizens wore the suits to protect them from radiation, extreme heat and cold as well as differences in pressure. Since all of them had worn suits since early childhood, adjusting with their psi was second nature.

  Zical supposed Dora was safe enough on Mystique. Nevertheless, he edged closer. After his work ferrying settlers from Rystan to Mystique, he’d quickly learned to identify those who might need a lending hand, and his honed instincts told him Dora’s reactions could be … unpredictable. Like when she’d taken Xentos’ shape. Like when she’d asked him for a kiss.

  Telling himself that his gesture was protective, not possessive, he slipped his arm through hers, and they strolled down the corridor as he tried to ignore her citrus scent, tried to ignore her smooth skin beneath his hand.

  Many scientists from Federation planets had gathered to study the ancient site. Thanks to the automatic translators in their suits, they could all communicate without difficulty.

  Dr. Laduna, a diminutive Jarn with intelligent green eyes, waved them over. If Zical looked closely, he could see an extra eyelid that the man used along with his gills to live on his homeworld, one covered almost entirely by oceans after a collision with an asteroid many eons ago.

  At home in air or ocean, Dr. Laduna had a voice that sounded eager and pleasant, unlike so many of the other scientists who seemed more interested in proving their theories correct than discovering the truth. The Jarn bowed low. “Greetings and salutations.”

  “Good morning.” Dora nodded.

  “Find anything interesting?” Zical asked.

  “Yes. Yes. Yes. All very interesting. We have many more puzzles to solve.” The tiny man almost vibrated with enthusiasm, his scales changing from tan to burnt orange.

  “More puzzles?” Zical homed in on the salient factor.

  “Listen. Can you not hear them?” The Jarn cocked his head to one side, revealing a tiny ear set flush with his skull.

  Dora’s face focused and Zical listened. Below the chatter of the scientists and their machines, he sensed a low-level hum that hadn’t been there during his last trip. “What is that?”

  Dr. Laduna smiled, revealing smooth gum lines without teeth. “The machines have tuned themselves to a di
fferent level.”

  “What?” Dora looked, right, left, and then hurried through the narrow corridor to where it widened into a vast area. They followed her, and the sounds became louder.

  “See for yourselves.” Dr. Laduna gestured to the deep interior of Mount Shachauri.

  At least halfway down the mountain, an eerie luminescence filled the black hollows with streaks of silver light. Giant machines throbbed scarlet, their crystalline structure beautiful, yet terrifying and exotic. The color deepened and the humming increased in volume but deepened in pitch, like a steady engine warming up—but for what purpose?

  “Dora?”

  She stared below in obvious fascination. “I have no more idea what is happening than you do.” She wore a dreamy look. “If only there was a way to link into the alien network.”

  “That might be dangerous.” Concerned that her first instinct was to plug back into the computer for answers, Zical wondered if she regretted her metamorphosis.

  “A link could be perfectly safe. You don’t know.”

  “Neither do you.” He tugged her away from the machines that seemed to hold her in a trance. While he didn’t want to frighten her, she appeared to need a reminder that injury to her body wouldn’t be pleasant. “Dora, you’re human, now. You shouldn’t think about hooking into—”

  She shrugged. “I don’t need you to tell me how to think—especially when you brought me here to find answers.”

  “We want answers, yes, yes, yes,” Dr. Laduna agreed, “but not at the expense that could harm your most beautiful self.”

  “Thank you for the concern, but, there,” she pointed, “is that a place I could tap in?”

  Zical wanted to shake her. First she was afraid of her shadow, now she was willing to risk her brain cells, reminding him once again of her immaturity. “Haven’t you heard a word I said? Do you want to die before you’ve been human for even a year?”

  “What I want isn’t important.”

  “Of course it is.”

  “I want to experience a kiss before one more day passes, but that’s not going to happen, is it?”

  Zical contained a sigh, his exasperation with her naivete warring with a need to kiss her enticing lips. But kissing her would mean giving in to passion. Yet, Dora wasn’t experienced enough to know the difference between lust and genuine feelings.

  Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she headed toward the location she’d indicated, and Dr. Laduna departed quickly, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation turning so personal. When Zical followed her, she spoke without looking at him. “Don’t concern yourself. I’ll be fine.”

  Zical had thought he was calm.

  Stars. As if a man could ever relax around Dora. Realizing she’d gone on ahead, he stomped after her, trying to rein in his rising temper while he attempted to think of a good argument to prevent her from plugging into the alien machinery and possibly frying every gorgeous cell in her body.

  “Dora, let’s discuss your linking up to the machine.” He spoke in a rush. The humming seemed stronger as they neared the scarlet crystal. She didn’t slow down, and he placed a hand on her shoulder. “Do you feel that vibration?”

  She plugged one end of the cord she’d been carrying in her suit’s pouch into her neck. “I’ll try to find out what’s going on.”

  “Do you think experimentation without study is wise? Suppose there’s some kind of energy feedback in there that isn’t compatible with your new body? Suppose it attacks? Or overloads your human brain?”

  “I’ll be careful and I appreciate your concern.”

  He couldn’t tell if she didn’t understand the danger due to overconfidence, or if she simply didn’t care what happened, but he was damn worried at the risk she was willing to take. “Why don’t you let Ranth—”

  “No. He’s too valuable to Mystique. If the alien technology blows his circuits, all of our planetary defenses will go down.” She locked gazes with him. “I’m not nearly as important.”

  “You’re important to me,” he told her, hoping she could hear the truth in his words, hoping she didn’t take them to mean more than he meant.

  “Not important enough to kiss.”

  “Dora, stop. You’re using emotional blackmail. You know humans from any planet frown on that sort of manipulation.” Impatience seeped into his tone. “You’re risking your life for no good reason. How can you be so foolhardy when earlier you were too frightened to leave your room?”

  “I’m comfortable with computers.” She jerked his hand from her shoulder. “Apparently nothing I do pleases you. But my reasons are good enough for me.”

  She’d deliberately turned away from him, and the motion hadn’t been one of her accidental spasms. She’d twisted his words and could think circles around him. But that didn’t mean he was wrong.

  Refusing to be manipulated into a kiss that would mean no more than lust, frustrated that she wouldn’t listen to reason, he didn’t hesitate to physically place himself between her and the alien socket. His responsibility was clear. He couldn’t allow her to put herself in such danger when they might still have other options.

  Dora tried to step past him, but he shifted and blocked her. She bumped into him and her knee gave out. Quickly, he reached to steady her.

  A golden beam speared out of an alcove and caught them in a bright cone of light. The rays surrounded them, trapped them.

  Alarmed, he tried to pull them out of the beam, but his psi wouldn’t work. Neither did his muscles. He couldn’t blink. Or talk.

  He should be in a panic. His fight-or-flight syndrome should be kicking in, but he was calm—unnaturally calm.

  While the golden light was similar to the one that had knocked him unconscious when he’d first entered the complex, this time, he remained awake, on his feet. Dora, in his arms, was just as stationary as he.

  The golden light seemed more benevolent this time. Although he didn’t like being held so tightly that he couldn’t so much as twitch a finger, he wasn’t particularly concerned by his immobility. But as the humming grew louder, his brain pulsed to the tune of the vibrations.

  It seemed more than a coincidence that with all the scientists working inside for months that no one else had been caught in the beam, yet he’d been zapped twice. The humming invaded his mind, penetrating so deep that the beating of his heart synchronized with the alien rhythm.

  Dora appeared to be caught in the same trance-like state he’d seen when she’d plugged into the mainframe. Her eyes glazed over and although she was looking right at him, he suspected she wasn’t seeing him. Praying the golden light would do her no harm and that soon they’d be released, he tried to ignore the humming that made him sleepy, yet aroused him.

  Once again he’d lost control of his psi and his body responded with his blood flowing to his tavis. If he could have moved, he’d have gritted his teeth, groaned, turned away to hide his embarrassing condition. However, he doubted Dora noticed. She appeared to have withdrawn so deep into her mind that he feared her brain might suffer permanent damage.

  He could do nothing but wait. With no way of judging the passing of time, he couldn’t even estimate how long they remained trapped. When the light finally disappeared, despite his fierce need for sexual release, he ruthlessly used his psi to contain his condition and was about to fire questions at Ranth, when Dora toppled into his arms.

  Worried, he caught her, gathered her close, ignoring how the feel of her soft skin and her female scent ratcheted up his tension. “Dora. What’s wrong?”

  She didn’t respond, but with eyes wide-open continued to stare off into the scarlet crystals as if hypnotized. Zical shook her lightly, but she didn’t come out of her trance. Lowering her to the floor before she fell, he held her in his arms. Her head tilted back, her hair spilling over his arm. With his free hand, he brushed a lock from her eyes as he fought the lust shocking his system.

  It wasn’t her. The golden light had him burning for completion. Surely, he wouldn
’t die if he didn’t quench his passionate thirst to sip from her lips. Only concern for her welfare allowed him to squelch his lust. However, he couldn’t resist the sweet torment of holding her without touching her. He smoothed his fingers down the creamy expanse of her neck, over her delicate collarbone to her toned arm. As if she were cold, he rubbed her skin with brisk strokes, his palm chafing her skin in an attempt to waken her.

  Touching her was sweet torment, intensifying his need, making his senses spin. Riveting his attention on her face, he wondered what the alien light had done to her. Was she lost in the same erotic haze where he’d been and overwhelmed by an experience she’d never felt before? Why wasn’t she snapping out of her trance?

  “Dora? Wake up.”

  Exhibiting no sign of awareness or recognition, she nevertheless clutched his shoulder and back, the tips of her fingers digging into his flesh. A soft moan encouraged him that she would soon awaken.

  “Dora, talk to me.”

  “I am fine.”

  “You don’t sound fine.”

  “Please be quiet and let me think.”

  “Ranth.” Zical spoke to the computer, his rampant lust firing his impatience. “What in the five seas of Jarn just happened?”

  “My analysis is incomplete. The light radiated outward in a pattern similar to your last encounter.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  “Dora reacted differently to the experience than you.”

  “Is she—”

  “All her physical signs are normal.”

  “She’s not acting normal.”

  Dora might have wanted to kiss him, but she wasn’t clinging to him in a sexual manner. Yet, she didn’t look fearful, either.

  “Perhaps you should call a doctor?”

  “Hush. Please.” Her eyes slowly focused on him, the red sparks settling into a steady purple glow. She relaxed her grip, pulled away from him, straightened, and stood. “I can’t do mathematic calculations in my head as well as—”