Shielder — A new Science Fiction Romance (Book 1, Shielder Series)

by Catherine Spangler

  "But what am I supposed to do with this thing?" Chase demanded, holding up the lanrax. "I have to put it in the case, too."

  "I'd think twice about that if I were you," Sabin advised. "If this is a female, you'll have lots of little lanraxes running around here in no time."

  Chase groaned, then sneezed. Worse and worse. If he ever saw that vendor again on Elysia, he'd torch her stall. "Well, then, this female lanrax will just have to stay in Nessa's lavatory until I can replicate another case."

  "No!" she cried, digging her nails into his arm.

  The ungrateful wretch. Chase glared at her, all vestiges of patience gone. "What is the matter with you? You're not allergic to the cursed creatures. I say it's going to stay in your lav. Either that, or I'll euthanize the damn thing."

  Nessa paled. "You can't do that," she whispered.

  "I can, and I will, if I can't find a way to un-bond with it," he snapped, pushing past her toward the lav.

  Her grip on his arm tightened. "Put it in the case with Turi, then."

  Was it his imagination, or did she appear frightened? Why had he ever delayed in dumping her at a star base? "Not a chance in the universe, lady. Two lanraxes are two too many. And what is that horrible smell?"

  Shaking Nessa off, he stormed to the lav. He punched the panel pad, ready to toss the lanrax in…and froze. Two naked children, covered with filth, cowered against the cleansing stall. The stench almost gagged him. He stared, trying to comprehend the impossible. Then rage exploded through his head, momentarily blinding him.

  He whirled, dropping the lanrax and grabbing Nessa up by her tunic. "What are these…these children doing here, on my ship?" Anger coursed through him, robbing him of rational thought. He shook her. "I want an answer and I want it now!"

  Gasping, she tried to pry his hand away. He didn't realize how close he was to losing control, until Sabin intervened, breaking his hold on her. "Whoa, partner. She can't answer if she can't breathe."

  He dropped her like a hot brand, dragging air into his lungs. The rage receded from boiling to simmering. Her hand at her throat, Nessa backed away. He grabbed her shoulders and jerked her back. "Tell me what is going on here."

  She shook violently and her eyes rolled up, the beginnings of a seizure. Cold, lucid control returned. Chase maneuvered her to the bunk and eased her down. "Breathe, Nessa. Stay with her, Travers. I'll be right back."

  He dashed to the lab, ignoring the lanrax clinging to his leg, and filled a hypochamber with medication. Grabbing his medical monitor, he returned to find Nessa in the throes of the seizure, Sabin watching helplessly.

  "Stars," Sabin said, yielding his place to Chase. "Will she survive this?"

  "She'll be fine." The seizure appeared the mildest Chase had seen yet. She was obviously taking the medication he'd given her and it must be helping, if her quick response to the injection gave any indication.

  He gave her only enough time to awaken and orient herself before he allowed his anger to resurface. He pulled her up against the end of the bunk, his face a few millimeters from hers. "I want to know where those children came from and why they're on my ship. I want the complete truth. If I don't get the truth and get it now, you'll find the brig mild in comparison to the consequences."

  Her eyes huge, she looked over his shoulder at Sabin. A nagging suspicion entered his mind and his head snapped around. "Do you know anything about this, Travers?"

  Sabin shrugged nonchalantly. "Not much more than you do, old man."

  Although he didn't totally believe his partner, Chase let it go, returning his attention to Nessa. "I'm waiting for the answer."

  She swallowed. "The children were being sold as slaves on Elysia."

  He must have misunderstood her. "Slaves! How did they get on the ship?"

  She averted her eyes. "I bought them."

  Her voice was so low, he wasn't sure he heard right. "Did you say you bought them?" She nodded and his blood pressure rose several hundred points. "How did you manage that?" he bit out.

  She stared at her hands clenched tightly in her lap.

  "My patience is at an end, Nessa. Tell me everything now."

  "I decoded the hatch and went looking for transport."

  "How in the blazing hells did you decode the hatch?"

  She paled even more, if that were possible. "I —I…I stood at the hatch pad and entered combinations until I hit the right one."

  Her tenacity amazed him. "Go on."

  "Well…then I went to the marketplace. When I saw the children being sold as slaves, I couldn't leave them there. So I bought them."

  She decoded the hatch? She left the ship against orders? She purchased slaves? Angry tension pounded through his body. He checked the strong urge to shake her into oblivion.

  "And just what did you purchase them with?" She began the hand twisting routine again, and he clamped his hand over hers. "Answer me."

  "My coins."

  Sustaining belief became more difficult with each answer she gave. "You spent your transport money on slaves? How much was that?"

  "Two hundred miterons each."

  "Four hundred miterons? You spent four hundred miterons on slaves?"

  A quick nod of her head sent Chase's blood pressure off the chart. He grabbed the bunk to keep from throttling her. "After spending all your money on slaves, what did you plan to use for transport to your all-important eclipse?"

  "I don't know," she whispered.

  The dam of restraint broke, and fury rampaged through him. "You don't know?" he roared. "You leave the ship against orders, purchase two slaves with the only money you have, and you don't know? I'll tell you what you don't know. You don't know how much you owe me. I rescued you, treated your seizures, gave you food, and offered you transport to the nearest star base. Yet at every turn, you've defied me, lady. I've been lenient, but no more."

  He grabbed Nessa, lifting her off the mat and so close, her breasts brushed against his chest. He glared into her dark eyes, not concerned with her obvious terror. "You owe me so much, you can't possibly ever repay me. Where I come from, that means I own you now. I own you, body and soul!

  “You're my slave, to do as I command. And if you value your welfare, and that of those two children in the lav, you'll do whatever I tell you, whenever I tell you. As a matter of fact, I plan on working what you've cost me out of your scrawny hide. You'll be very certain that I'm comfortable and happy at all times. My every wish will be your duty. I hope this is very clear to you, because your life depends upon it. Do you understand me?"

  She stared at him, her chest rising and falling rapidly. He dug his fingers mercilessly into her upper arms. "I said, do you understand?"

  "Yes."

  He released her and rose, peeling the lanrax off his leg. Shaking with anger, he knew he'd better put some distance between himself and Nessa if he didn't want to commit mayhem. A long, stiff drink of Elysian liquor sounded damn good—make that damn necessary—right now. He needed at least a bottle. And an allergy injection, he thought, as a paroxysm of sneezing hit him.

  "I'm going to my cabin. When I come back out, you and those kids had better be cleaned up and run through decontamination." He stormed past Sabin, who offered a mock salute. "Get the hell off my ship, Travers."

  He headed down the corridor for his own cabin and the oblivion alcohol could give. Oblivion from his own reprehensible past, as well as the waif who'd managed to turn his life upside down.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  The silver lanrax scurried after Chase, the cabin panel closing with the finality of a death knell behind it. Nessa sagged against the bunk wall, filled with despair. Now what?

  All she could think to do was take the children and flee, hoping Chase would be in his cabin long enough for them to get away. She pushed onto shaky legs, meeting Sabin's taunting gaze.

  "Tsk, tsk. You lied to Chase. Told him you didn't know what you would use to pay for transport. And all the while, your pockets were stuffed with his gold."<
br />
  "It's none of your business." She started for the lav.

  His hand on her arm stopped her. "It is my business. And you're going to put the miterons back right now. If you don't, I'll be forced to tell Chase."

  "I can't put the gold back. Don't you see? It's my only way to get the children and me out of here."

  "No. You can't take an Elysian transport. It would be too dangerous. You're far safer with Chase. He'll get you to Star Base Intrepid. He'll probably even give you the money you need to go on from there."

  Nessa didn't see how a public transport could be any more dangerous than the situation she now faced with Chase. As furious as he was with her, no telling what he might do next. "I'll take my chances on Elysia."

  Sabin shook his head. "No, you won't, Nessa. My ship is next to this one, and I'm not departing until Chase does. I'll be watching the hatch, and I'll notify Chase if you try to leave. Put the gold back."

  She felt like a helpless creature caught in a snare. "I have to leave," she insisted frantically. "I don't know what Chase—"

  "Chase won't hurt you or the children," Sabin interrupted. "He's just very angry right now. Go put the gold back."

  Her feet dragging, she headed for the vault, Sabin right behind her. She didn't have his faith that Chase wouldn't harm her. Halfway down the corridor, she faltered and whirled around. "Then take us with you," she pleaded. "You can drop us off at a star base."

  "And give you money for transport fare? I think not. I'm not a credit institution." Sabin pointed toward the vault. "Go on."

  He just didn't want to help her. It was that simple. Anger flared. "Don't you care about anything but hunting people and collecting gold?" she demanded.

  "Not really. Put the miterons back."

  Filled with dread, she returned the coins to the vault. She wondered if she'd have a chance to retrieve them after the ship departed Elysia—assuming she lived to have another shot at escaping. At least Sabin didn't know about the coins in her boots.

  He reached past her and entered a sequence of numbers on the vault panel. "That should keep you out for a while." He strode to the unconscious prisoner and wheeled him toward the hatch. "Tell Chase I took Marak to turn him in. Probably best not to expose the children to the likes of him. I'll also message him the new code on the vault. See you around."

  Panic flooded Nessa and she ran after him. "Please take us with you!"

  He turned back and for a moment, his expression softened. "Believe me when I tell you Chase is your best bet. He talks a tougher game than he plays. Stars, I've seen him give medicine to a sick prisoner who was condemned to die anyway. Mark my words, he'll help you with those kids." He stooped to retrieve the other package he'd brought.

  "But—"

  "Forget it. You're not coming with me." He handed her the package. "This is for you, from Moriah. She thought you might like it. It occurs to me it might help you with Chase."

  Confused, she stared at the plain package. "I don't understand."

  "Just be nice to the old man. Really, really nice. I promise you, everything will work out okay. Don't forget to clean up those kids and go through decontamination. That always puts McKnight in a good mood."

  With a jaunty wave and a maddening smile, Sabin slipped through the hatch, taking Marak with him. Nessa decided she hated him. Then she thought about him returning Turi. Well, maybe she didn't hate him. But he was a selfish, greedy man.

  A noise down the corridor drew her attention. The silver lanrax scratched and pawed at Chase's panel, chattering pitifully. She sighed and scooped up the lanrax, holding her by the scruff so she couldn't bite. "Come on, let's put you where you can't bother the captain."

  She went to her cabin and turned the lanrax loose after closing the panel. The children hadn't moved from the lav. She squatted beside them. "It's okay. Those men are gone now. You're safe and no one is going to hurt you again. What are your names?" They stared at her silently with terror-stricken eyes. She began to wonder if they were truly mute, unable to speak.

  "Okay, then. Let's get you cleaned up. Have you ever had a shower? I'm going to turn on the water in this stall. You stand in the water and get wet, and then you rub soap on yourself and your hair."

  At least they were malleable, stepping into the stall at her urging. But they just stood under the water, and Nessa ended up washing them. It took three soapings to get the matted crud out of their hair, and two scrubbings to get the grime off their skin. Their nude bodies didn't bother her; she'd taken care of younger children from the time she was nine seasons of age, until her seizures had begun.

  The boy looked young, perhaps six or seven seasons of age. The girl appeared on the verge of crossing into womanhood, with delicate, budding breasts, and the beginning fuzz of pubic hair. She was quite pretty Nessa realized, as the layers of dirt came off.

  "Okay, that's enough." Nessa turned off the water and gently prodded the children to stand under the infrared dryer. She wasn't talkative by nature, but she sensed she needed to keep up a flow of words. Hopefully her tone of voice could convince the children she meant them no harm.

  "We're going to the decontamination chamber now. All you have to do is sit on the bench and let special rays clean away any germs on your skin and hair. You can't even feel it."

  They followed her docilely, but the boy balked at the entry. He stared into the small chamber, trembling violently. "It's okay. There's nothing to be afraid of." Nessa eased him through the panel, lifting him slightly.

  He stood stiffly by the bench, the expression on his face one of absolute terror. He shook even more when Nessa turned on the sanitizing rays. She gathered both children against her, telling them over and over that they were safe. When they were through in the decon chamber, she foraged in the supply cabinet and found two blankets to wrap around them.

  "See? That wasn't so bad. I'll bet you're hungry. Let's get you something to eat." She took them back to the cabin, since she didn't know how to operate the food replicator in the galley. Sitting on her bunk, they watched, round-eyed, as she dug into her bag of supplies and brought out some of her hoarded bread and cheese. They stared at the food with obvious longing, but seemed afraid to take it.

  "This is for you." Nessa took the boy's hand. He started in alarm and tried to pull away. She pressed some bread into his hand. "It's yours." He looked at her, uncertainty in his hazel eyes, and she nodded. "Eat it." He finally took a tentative bite.

  She did the same with the girl, placing bread into her hand. When she looked back at the boy, he had crammed the entire piece into his mouth, as if afraid she might take it back.

  "I wish you could talk," she sighed in frustration. "Then I'd know whether or not you understand me."

  Chewing some bread, the girl considered her a moment. "I can talk," she offered so softly, Nessa wondered if she'd heard right.

  "What did you say?"

  "I talk. Brand don't. He hasn't talked since the first time they used the rods on him."

  The cruelty some beings displayed defied belief. Nessa leaned forward. "So his name is Brand?"

  The girl nodded.

  "And what is your name?"

  "Raven."

  "What pretty names. Is Brand your brother?"

  "Yes, mistress. I take care of him. Sometimes I take the rod for him."

  Nessa felt a catch in her throat. She knew Jarek would have watched over her in the same situation. Spirit, how she missed him.

  "I'm not your mistress, Raven. I'm your friend. You can call me Nessa. Now, eat some more bread and cheese. If Brand sees you eating, maybe he won't be so afraid."

  Both children ate more, but Nessa limited the amount, afraid they might get sick if they consumed too much. Then she noticed their eyelids drooping and realized how exhausted they must be.

  She patted the bunk. "Lie down. You can sleep as long as you like."

  They both looked amazed. "We're not allowed, Master," Raven explained in her soft, singsong voice. "We sleep on the floo
r or against the wall."

  "You are allowed to sleep here now," Nessa insisted. "I order you to."

  She finally convinced the children it was all right, and they snuggled down on the mat. They fell asleep quickly, dropping off in the instant, boneless way children enter sleep.

  Now what? she wondered, standing and stretching. Chase. An odd shiver skittered through her. She would have to deal with him sooner or later. He said she was his slave, to do his bidding. She didn't know for sure what he meant by that, although she readily conceded her indebtedness to him.

  Perhaps she should ask him if he needed anything. She could help him clean the latest cuts and scratches on his face, like she had helped him with his wounds from Saron.

  Actually, going anywhere near Chase was the last thing she wanted to do, but she'd never been a coward. She preferred to meet her fate head on.

  Her gaze fell on Sabin's package, which she'd dropped by the lav. Curious, she retrieved and opened it. Her breath caught on a soft gasp. Inside was the Saija silk robe she had admired in Moriah's mercantile. She lifted the garment cautiously, afraid it might snag on her rough hands. The rich russet fabric shimmered and whispered as it cascaded toward the floor.

  She had never seen any apparel so beautiful, much less ever dreamed of owning such a thing. She luxuriated in the faint woodsy smell inherent to Saija silk, in the satiny sensation caressing her hands. Amazement, then gratitude, swept through her at the thought Moriah had sent this wonderful gift to her, Nessa dan Ranul, an outcast.

  Moriah had also included an elegant brush and comb set and a small vial of sweet starflower oil. Emotion tightened Nessa's throat. She had a friend! An honest-to-goodness friend. Why else would Moriah have so generously sent these items, if not in friendship?

  Touched, Nessa started to fold the robe, but then paused, staring at it. She needed to face Chase. Her own tunic hung in tatters around her. She could wear the robe. Maybe, if she looked as pleasing as possible, Chase wouldn't be so angry. Maybe, if she wore something special, he might find her a little bit appealing. She quickly rejected that last thought. She would never be pretty. But she would be far more presentable in the robe than in her rag of a tunic.