"I had heard about the new computers and was just curious about them. I'm sorry. I won't touch your computer."
"See that you don't." He rose from his seat, towering over her. "Come on. I'll show you to your quarters."
Nessa scrambled up awkwardly, resisting the urge to rub her stiff leg. She started to heave the heavy case with Turi into her arms. "I'll take that." McKnight brushed her arms away and lifted the case easily in one muscular arm.
She found his size and strength intimidating, yet in an odd way, she also found it fascinating. Shielder men, although wiry and resilient, were slighter in stature. They relied on speed and skill in battle rather than brawn.
She followed McKnight down the corridor. The cabin quarters apparently lined the wall opposite from the brig cubicles. Nathan Long lounged near the force field of his brig, smiling insolently. Ignoring him, McKnight led Nessa to the second panel. She assumed the first was his quarters.
"Lighting on," he commanded as they entered the cabin. Lights blinked on. The room was compact, but efficiently designed. A bunk filled one wall, while shelves and a control panel for the room functions lined the second wall. Recessed storage drawers and an entry into a small lavatory occupied the third wall.
Although the cabin’s accommodations were probably modest by McKnight's standards, to Nessa they seemed luxurious. Her hut on Liron was primitive by comparison; so were Shielder shuttle quarters.
The cabin's limited floor space forced her into close proximity to McKnight. As he eased around her to set Turi's case on the table, his leg brushed against her. The sensation of hard muscles touching her sent an odd vibration skittering through her body. She could feel the heat emanating from him, could smell his unique scent.
Since her injury, Nessa's senses had sharpened, compensating for her lack of physical agility, giving her a highly attuned sense of smell. She found McKnight's scent an unfamiliar blend of clean skin and masculine essence; a far cry from the unwashed, sweaty bodies of male and female Shielders practicing their battle skills. And not at all unpleasant. She studied him, an odd warmth surging through her.
Frowning, he watched her. Self-conscious, she fingered her tunic, wondering if her smell, augmented by scant opportunity to bathe and old clothing, offended him.
"The controls are voice activated. You have lights, climate, and music. The lav also operates on voice control. You should find everything you need here." He turned to go, brushing past her again.
Nessa realized he hadn't covered such concerns as water or energy conservation. "Captain McKnight."
He swung around, his glittering stare making her feel foolish for even asking the obvious. "Yes?"
She swallowed. "What are the limits for light usage?"
His brows rose. "None. You may keep them on the entire ship cycle, for all I care. Anything else?"
Surprised but heartened by his answer, Nessa smoothed her tunic, hoping against hope he'd allow her access to a cleansing stall. "How about water usage?"
He shifted, seemingly impatient with her questions. "What about it?"
"I was wondering if I would be allowed use of the cleansing stall and what the water limit is."
His mouth quirked into a sardonic smile. "By all means, use the cleansing stall—please! Take all the water you need." He paused, apparently noting her expression. "That surprises you. All water used on this ship is recycled through filtration and biological sterilization; very little is lost. Outside solar panels supplement the ship's internal power sources, so electricity is plentiful. Now, is that all?"
"Yes, Captain."
He strode to the entry and then swung back around. "Meet me in the galley at 1800 hours."
Still distracted by the wonder of unlimited power and water, she blurted, "Why?"
"For the evening meal. It's best to keep standard ship hours. Makes the adjustment easier when you're back on terra firma."
He left before Nessa could point out she had her own food. But she didn't know where he'd put her bag of supplies, and she'd have to ask him for it. Her growling stomach reminded her she hadn't eaten since the previous day, but her hunger would have to wait. She must tread lightly with this suspicious shadower. She'd approach him at 1800 hours and ask about her supplies then.
Meanwhile, she planned to take a long shower, with all the water—hot water—she wanted. She'd never dreamed she would experience such a luxury.
Glancing at the entry panel to be sure it was completely closed, she slid the lid to Turi's case back far enough to slip her arms inside. Immediately, he wrapped himself around one arm, chattering a greeting.
"Shhhh. Don't let him hear you. I have to close the lid in a minute. I know you're hungry, but I'll get our food soon." She stroked her pet, finding comfort in the warmth of another living thing.
* * * *
Approaching the galley, Nessa heard sounds of activity from within. She stopped at the entrance. McKnight was entering data on a pad that was part of a metal unit taking up much of the opposite wall. He noticed her and gestured her in. "Sit down."
He turned back to the wall unit. She stood there, uncertain. He glanced around, his tawny eyebrows drawing together. "Sit," he repeated, the command in his voice unmistakable.
She slid onto a bench at a small table. "If I could have my supplies, I can eat in my quarters."
"You call those supplies? You don't have enough in that bag to keep a desert krat alive, much less a person."
Admittedly, her stores were meager and she should conserve them as long as possible. But hunger knotted her stomach and she feared if she didn't eat soon, she might faint. As if by magic, a loaf of bread appeared behind the plexishield panel in the wall unit. McKnight opened the panel and retrieved the bread, setting it on the table.
Enthralled, she leaned forward. "You have a food replicator? How does it work?"
"You've never seen one before?" He entered more data before facing her. She shook her head. "It's somewhat complicated,” he said. “Basically this system takes sterilized, organic particulate suspensions and converts them into solid food. It requires a lot of energy, but there's less risk of unsafe bacteria, and the food is fortified with nutrients."
"Oh." Nessa eyed the replicator in awe. She didn't know much about bacteria, but McKnight seemed very concerned about it.
He retrieved a white, round item and set it on the table, giving her something new to wonder about. "What's that?"
"You don't know what this is?"
She shook her head again, feeling terribly ignorant. She decided not to ask more questions, no matter how fascinating these replicated creations were.
"It's kerani cheese. Full of protein molecules."
"Oh." She studied the cheese. She'd read about it and knew it came from the milk of the kerani, a relatively common mammal on many planets. Since Liron's terrain couldn't support livestock, she'd never seen any kind of cheese.
In a few more minutes, two plant-based foods that McKnight called amargrain and cantabeans made their way to the table. Nessa mentally hoarded their names and the information he imparted on them. The Shielder diet was a spartan one, composed mainly of bread made from wild grains, and the few greens and fruits that would grow in Liron's cool, damp terrain.
He placed two plates and eating utensils on the table before taking the bench opposite her. She watched in silence as he cut generous slices of the bread and kerani cheese onto both plates. He served equally generous portions of the other items. Then he shoved one plate across to her.
Without another word, he dug into the food in front of him, eating with obvious relish. Nessa stared at the food heaped on her plate. It was more than she ate in several days. She reached out and touched the bread, finding it warm and soft. How many seasons since she'd had bread that wasn't hard and stale?
"Is something wrong?"
Nessa looked up at McKnight. He took another generous bite, his attention on her. She'd scavenged for sustenance so long, she couldn't conceive of anyone sharin
g their meal with her. He probably hoped to gain her trust and then trick her. She returned her hands to her lap. "You don't have to feed me. I have provisions."
His eyes never leaving hers, he took a drink from his tumbler, his powerful throat working as he swallowed. He set the drink down and pointed at her plate. "Your nourishment is right there. Eat."
The tempting smell of bread wafted up to tease Nessa's nose. Maybe one bite wouldn't hurt. She reached out, then hesitated, self-conscious with McKnight's intense stare fixed on her.
"Eat." He pointed his utensil at her plate again.
Her stomach growled. She picked up the bread and took a tentative bite. It was soft and light, free of mold and grit. She couldn't remember when anything had tasted this good. Ignoring the urge to gulp every bit, she forced herself to chew slowly. She ate a few more bites and then reluctantly slipped the rest of the bread into her tunic while McKnight spooned more cantabeans onto his plate.
She found the cheese chewy and tangy, with a unique flavor. She took a few nibbles before furtively pocketing that as well. She tasted small samples of the beans and grain, finding them nutty tasting and satisfying.
Having done away with two plates of food, McKnight leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, his attention returning to Nessa. "What planet are you from?"
What remaining appetite she had fled. She laid down her utensil. "I'm from the colony Delsan. It's on one of Halpern's moons." Fortunately, she'd done her homework and her information was accurate. Many cult followers separated themselves from society, choosing to inhabit moons.
He considered this information. "What about your family? What kind of parents would allow a young, defenseless woman to roam the quadrant alone?"
Her family. Nessa's chest constricted. "I have no parents," she whispered, battling the pain of the past ten seasons. She noticed McKnight's eyes were no longer icy, but a deep gray, laced with an unexpected compassion.
"Have you no one, then?"
Thoughts of Jarek eased the ache in her chest. "I have a brother. He’s waiting for word of my safe arrival."
"It's good to have someone."
His quiet comment struck a chord with Nessa. "What about your family?"
The warmth fled his eyes, replaced by frigid steel. "My family is not open for discussion. Ever. I'm the one who asks for information on this ship. I advise you to keep your questions to yourself."
Tension emanated from him like subspace radio waves. Her question had been totally innocent, but she'd managed to overstep her boundaries again. She rose from the bench.
"I haven't given permission for you to leave. Sit down." His voice vibrated with underlying anger and command.
She sank onto the edge of the bench. "I'm sorry. I won't pry further. I request permission to go to my quarters."
He leaned back, some of the tension easing. "You haven't finished eating. And I have more questions."
"I'm not hungry any more. I'd like to rest," Nessa hedged. She was too tired to match wits with McKnight right now.
He steepled his hands together on the table and studied them thoughtfully. After a moment he looked up, his eyes speculative. "Have you ever had caroba?"
She'd never seen such expressive eyes, capable of changing appearance in a single moment. She wondered at his new game. "No. I've never heard of it."
"You haven't? We'll have to correct that right now."
He stood and began punching pads on the replicator. "I think you'll like caroba. It's quite delicious, and it will put some meat on your bones."
Positive he wasn't interested in her well-being, Nessa held her silence. A moment later, he set a plate of small brown squares in front of her. "Here you go. Try it."
Wary, she shook her head. "I'm not hungry."
"Oh, but this is worth the effort." Leaning forward until his face hovered only millimeters from hers, he plucked up a square and waved it beneath her nose. He was so close, she could see a thin band of gold around his pupils, and the faint gold flecks splashed like stars against the pale gray background of his eyes. "Smell it," he urged, his breath warm on her face.
She inhaled a rich, sweet, odor. "Taste it." He pressed it against her lips and her mouth opened automatically. He shoved the entire piece in. "Go ahead. Eat it."
He didn't retreat a millimeter. Still mesmerized by his eyes, she chewed obediently—and instantly fell in love with caroba. It had the sweetest, most satisfying flavor she'd ever tasted. It seemed to flow from her mouth to her stomach and heart and lungs, and even to her lower body, filling her with a warm glow. Her eyes widened with appreciation.
McKnight smiled knowingly. "Like it?" He picked up another square and held it near her mouth. She leaned toward it eagerly. He backed away, taking the promised treat with him. "You can have the whole plate. After you answer my questions."
Narrowing her eyes, Nessa drew back, a surge of anger racing through her. The vehemence of her response surprised her. For ten seasons she'd been forced to subjugate anger and pain in order to survive. Maybe leaving Liron had freed those bonds, or maybe it was the stress of her current situation. Whatever the reason, her emotions had been as turbulent as a wormhole crossing ever since she'd met McKnight.
She was not a child nor witless, and she was tired of being treated as such. But she was at this man's mercy, she reminded herself. Reacting foolishly might endanger her further. She met his challenging look and inhaled slowly. "I will answer your questions, Captain McKnight. You don't have to use childish tricks. All you have to do is ask."
He slid into the bench, an annoying, satisfied expression on his face. "Good. We understand each other. I ask and you answer. What happened to your leg?"
The tumult inside her intensified. But she’d determined he was as relentless as the pervasive, chilling winds of Liron and wouldn’t let up until he had the information he wanted from her. "My leg was injured in weaponry practice."
"What kind of weapon? How old were you?"
She didn't understand why he could possibly have any interest in her injury. What useful information could he gain? She focused her attention on the table, trying to bury the pain of the memory. "A sword. I was twelve seasons of age."
"A sword? I thought religious cults prohibited violence. Why were you using such a weapon, and at so young an age?"
There it was. He still didn't believe her story. She looked at him. "We would prefer to live our lives peacefully, by the teachings of Shara. But others in this quadrant live by attacking the weak and taking over their lands. To survive, we must defend ourselves."
"Why didn't you receive medical treatment for your injury?"
Here he sat, on the finest ship miterons could buy, surrounded by the latest technology and luxurious accommodations. He couldn't begin to comprehend the life of a Shielder. To understand what it was like living from hand to mouth; to always be on the run from a lethal, all-powerful enemy. Never having enough food or warm clothing or medicine.
"We are a very poor people. Medical treatment wasn't available."
McKnight leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. "Where were you headed when I found you?"
"I already told you. To Zirak, for the Festival of the Eclipse."
He smiled grimly. "So you say. Why were you traveling alone? It seems odd that all your cult wouldn't want to attend this momentous event."
Nessa had thought her story through several times. McKnight wouldn't trip her up. "True, all would have liked to attend the festival. But our numbers are few and the crops must be harvested, and our colony protected from attack. We could only spare one ship. So we drew lots, and I won. I'm the lucky one who will receive the blessing of Shara."
"Very lucky, indeed," he murmured. "Now you have no ship and no good way to get to Zirak."
Alarm sizzled through her. "What do you mean? You agreed to take me to a star base. Are you telling me you won't honor your word?"
He came to his feet. Planting his palms on the table, he leaned toward
her. Fury set his face in a mask of granite. "I always honor my word, unlike many of those from your quadrant who murder innocent people to further their own fortunes." He jerked up and stepped back. "You'll get to Star Base Intrepid in due time. The meal is over. Return to your quarters."
He left the galley before Nessa could even respond. Shaken by the force of his reaction, she rose.
And, scanning the corridor to be sure he was gone, stuffed the rest of the precious caroba into her other pocket before seeking the haven of her quarters.
CHAPTER FOUR
Nessa glanced toward McKnight's cabin entry before moving to the computer screen by the decontamination unit. She'd used a piece of bread to prop her panel open just a crack—enough to observe when he turned in for a sleep cycle. Then she waited two long hours to be sure he was asleep. She also checked Nathan Long as she slipped past his brig. He lay huddled on his bunk, his breathing deep and even.
At the computer, she turned and eyed McKnight's panel again. She was taking a great risk, but his actions in the galley spurred her on. His unpredictable and volatile behavior had further heightened her distrust of him. She needed to know if they were really headed for Star Base Intrepid.
Hopefully, basic ship data, such as navigational information, wasn't security coded. After all, McKnight was the only person accessing the system. Taking a deep breath, she touched the screen. The same three-dimensional holograms of wanted criminals she'd seen earlier rippled into view. Quickly, she punched the keypad to exit that program and studied the directories that appeared.
She couldn't tell which one contained navigation. She chose the first directory. Not there. She picked another directory. No. Another directory and then another. Ah! There it was.
She located the navigation pod and accessed it. After perusing the options, she chose current destination status. As she suspected, it was a read-only file, but it confirmed her nagging fears. At the top of the screen, followed by a listing of exact directional coordinates, flashed the staggering blow: Destination: Saron.
Shielder — A new Science Fiction Romance (Book 1, Shielder Series) Page 4
