RIBUS 7

by Shae Mills

  "Why would he be so concerned about that?" Korba asked more to himself than to Marri.

  Marri braced herself, and then dared to speak her conclusion. "Could he be concerned for your safety?"

  Korba stood abruptly, glaring down at the startled warrior. "You presume too much, my friend," he growled, his anger strikingly apparent.

  Marri was shaken by his astringent reaction and her mind raced quickly for answers. Either she had slighted his honorable intentions toward the benign alien, or she had hit a sore spot that possibly even Korba was not aware of.

  Korba slipped into his pants and boots. Meticulously, he examined each knife before he sheathed it. Next he donned his jacket and gloves without so much as a glance at Marri.

  Marri was becoming even more disturbed by his aloofness. When it came right down to it, she did not care what the true situation was. Her suggestion had stung her beloved, and she sought to rectify the situation quickly. Slowly and cautiously she approached him. Looking directly into his intense eyes, she reached up tentatively and stroked the side of his extraordinarily handsome face. "I'm sorry," she said softly.

  "So am I," he replied, pivoting away from her and her conciliatory touch. Korba shook out his thick mane of hair as his mind raced through his tumultuous thoughts. Marri was beginning to be a problem. She was exhibiting signs of jealousy, a vile emotion his people supposedly had banished long ago, and it was interfering with her logical thought processes. The solution to the issue was not yet apparent to him, for he still needed Marri's discreet and professional assistance with the fearful alien, but he had no doubt that the answer would come soon.

  Chapter 12

  Ever since awakening in Korba's domain, Chelan had looked forward to being up and around as much as possible, but now she was more determined than ever. She needed her strength back, and she needed it fast.

  On this morning, Korba had given Marri his permission to allow the young alien to wander with some restrictions, which included making sure that Chelan remained in his sleeping quarters. Korba had then dismissed Marri, allowing her to take a badly needed break. Now he pondered his next move.

  He did a routine examination of the Command Center and then checked in with the Bridge. Tarn was doing his usual flawless job, all the ship's systems were in order, all patrols were continuing routinely, and nothing required any immediate attention from Korba himself.

  Korba's thoughts then turned to Dar, who had sent a status report in the early morning and requested that they meet. Korba sat down heavily, his head resting on his fist. He was agitated, and he was not sure why. Maybe talking to Dar would help, or maybe it would only add to the elusive dilemma plaguing him.

  Regardless, restlessness was rapidly overtaking him, and he needed to get out of the Command Center and away from his quarters. He required a physical challenge.

  Korba stood abruptly. Sparring with his men for a few hours would undoubtedly help, and he swung his shroud over his shoulders. Then he became very still, listening for any signs of life from his chambers. He heard nothing. Either the young woman was still asleep or possibly just resting. He felt edgy about leaving her unattended, but Marri would be returning soon. Vacillating momentarily, he decided to depart.

  He gave one last glance toward his personal chambers and strode toward the exit doors. As they opened, his men snapped to attention. "Fremma, I want you to post yourself just inside this door and keep watch. Don't present yourself to Chelan unless there is a problem. Marri will be back soon. Call me if there is any trouble. I'll be in the main training area."

  Fremma nodded an affirmative and then beckoned to replacement guards down the hall to accompany Korba. The Warlord drew his hood over his head and walked away as Fremma took his place just inside the Command Center doors.

  * * *

  Chelan stirred sometime later, her ears straining, but all was silent. Slowly, she peeled back the blankets, making sure that her scant clothing and her comforting white sheet were still in place. She stepped tentatively from the bed. She stretched her ever-shrinking body and winced as her muscles protested. Taking a deep breath, she shuffled closer to the stairs leading out of her room. The lighting from below was bright, and it drew her like a moth to a flame. Marri had said she could get up but that she was to remain put. The woman had left her ample reading materials, but Chelan needed to roam, to collect useful information, and most of all, she needed to exercise her wasting muscles.

  She paused once again to listen, but she detected nothing. She clutched the sheet closer to her, retying it firmly above her breasts, and then began her cautious descent along the stairs. As she neared the end of the corridor, her heart began to pound, and she shivered against the cold air.

  Edging warily out into the main command arena, a vast semicircle of what appeared to be computers, screens, panels, and controls came into view. The entire structure reached up toward the ceiling, some ten meters in height at least. Chelan swallowed hard, her eyes widening at the spectacle. Slowly, she turned full circle, taking in all that surrounded her.

  Fremma had heard the girl's footfalls and stepped surreptitiously away from the doors and into a corner. His black shroud turned him into just another nondescript shadow cast by the massive amounts of technology that enveloped him.

  Chelan's gaze passed right over the warrior and returned to the computers. Displays at eye level constantly flashed a continuum of what she guessed were three-dimensional pictures of the ship's systems. Other screens produced a never-ending stream of information in a language and script she had never encountered. Larger panels higher up portrayed strange undulating lines that defied description. They were undoubtedly mathematically produced, and she called on all her academic knowledge to decipher what she was seeing. Was it motion through dimensions? Was it a depiction of...? "Oh shit," she whispered under her breath, and her fingers flew to her lips.

  Chelan quivered with awe. A tiny smile emerged. "Oh, god," she blurted out loud, "Oh shit, oh shit... you're kidding me, right?" She carefully padded down the steps that led to the consoles as quickly as she dared.

  Chelan's inquisitiveness now took on a life of its own. With her trembling hands pressed over her mouth, she took a couple of tentative steps toward one of the darker projections. It was a screen filled with what looked like distant stars, but her knowledge of astronomy told her that there were no familiar constellations. The points of light were moving and disappearing on all sides of the display as new ones appeared in the center. Chelan wondered if the array portrayed the ship's movements, her mind barely comprehending what she might be witnessing.

  Prying herself away from the celestial panorama, she began shuffling along the progression of slanted panels that sported a proliferation of lights, switches, buttons, and possible touch pads. Her eyes sparkled, and her heart raced.

  Fremma was becoming intensely curious as to just what was going through the young woman's mind. Her excitement was infectious, and he had to stifle the urge to step forward and speak. But he knew that if he revealed himself, Korba would be less than amused.

  Chelan moved in front of the 3-D displays and sat down in a large chair. Suddenly, from this new perspective, the images seemed to jump from the screens and dance before her. Symbols flashed relentlessly alongside ever-changing, perpetually rotating models. She was captivated.

  Rousing herself from her enchantment, she wondered if she dared chance touching the projections, but her insatiable thirst for knowledge far outweighed her trepidation. Chelan released her clutch on her tightly bound sheet and diffidently reached toward the closest display. She held her breath as she immersed her hand within the image, but her entry provoked no interference, and the display produced no sensations on her skin. She retracted her hand slowly and studied it for ill effects, but there were none. Then she looked back at the entire spectacle, her jaw agape.

  She exhaled sharply in amazement. She had worked with computers and imagery at the university, but this was beyond phenomenal. Sh
e knew the military was working on similar concepts and had heads-up displays in some fighters, but as far as she knew, nothing they had was anywhere near this sophisticated or intricate.

  Chelan glanced about her. Suddenly, she became enthralled by the lure of a massive opening into a darkened space to her left. She stood up on unsteady legs and took one last sweeping look over the vast command arena, her eyes once again missing the formless shadow close to the main doors.

  As she ascended the stairs toward Korba's training area, Fremma breathed a sigh of relief. Though the Command Center would be programmed to Korba's touch alone, and she could inflict no damage, she was a foreign entity in an Overlord's most sensitive and powerful domain. That fact alone rendered Fremma both uneasy and ever vigilant.

  As the woman disappeared into the room, Fremma noticed an indicator light flash. He ducked silently through the doors, and one of the guards relayed a message to him. Marri had been delayed by some work, and Korba was returning shortly. Fremma nodded and stepped back through the entry, hoping that Chelan had not returned. The area was clear, and he made his way silently across the Command Center in the direction the alien had gone. Near the threshold of the training area, he once again positioned himself in the shadows and watched his charge.

  Chelan stood motionless, awestruck by the sheer magnitude of the cavernous room. Her vision could not hope to probe its true dimensions. But what drew her attention foremost lay in the center of the vast expanse: a magnificent cerulean pool. All the light the room had to offer seemed to emanate from the beautiful glow of the pristine water. She approached it and cautiously dipped her hand into the icy blue. And that was exactly what it was. Chelan recoiled as shivers ran up her arms and across her back. She gasped. Swimming was definitely out of the question.

  Clutching her frigid hand to her chest, she looked to the right of the pool. There stood a monumental wall covered with numerous black panels, each approximately ten meters square. The panels stretched the length of the pool and totaled ten in all. Chelan could see that they numbered at least four in height, but she could not judge the depth of the ceiling, for it melded into the general inkiness of the room. Their function was a mystery.

  She turned away from the wall and noticed for the first time an opening she had missed originally, just to the left of where she had first entered. She drifted toward it, realizing with intrigue that the area was faintly lit. Peering in, she saw that it was a relatively small room, light in color and almost cheery. It contained what appeared to be a large, empty spa, but upon Chelan's touch, the surface of some very warm and seemingly nonexistent liquid broke.

  She jerked back and looked frantically down at her hand. She had detected no wetness visually, but the material had told her senses that it was liquid. Chelan watched her hand for a few more agonizing moments as if expecting to see her skin peel off. But all seemed well.

  Finally, convinced that she had suffered no ill effects, she walked over to the next section. There, for lack of better information, was what appeared to be a huge three-sided shower stall. But her attention was quickly diverted to her left where she was startled to see herself in a wall of mirrors. Or were they? Her image was somehow different... more dimensional.

  Fascinated, she stepped toward her reflection, and it stepped out at her. She halted, somewhat surprised, and then edged backward. As she passed a certain critical point, her figure also stepped back and away. "What the...?" she murmured.

  Chelan finally smiled at her newfound toy, but then sobered at her disheveled appearance. Instantly, she was repulsed by her own begrimed body and clothes. She squirmed. Her hair was limp and matted, her exposed skin dull. Korba's suite had an adequate washroom, but it was devoid of mirrors. Marri had been bringing her fresh washcloths daily, but obviously it hadn't been enough. She required a complete overhaul from head to toe, desperately.

  She turned and approached the stall. She stood and studied it for a long time, regarding it warily. Reaching in cautiously, she pressed the one lone part of the enclosure that looked different. Water suddenly erupted from the high ceiling, and Chelan jumped back, emitting a yelp. Clutching at her chest, she thought her heart was going to leap out of her skin. She closed her eyes and caught her breath. Composing herself, she looked up. The water was falling like rain, from just where she could not tell. It was as if it simply materialized out of nothing.

  Having just regained some semblance of control, she now became anxious about not having permission to wander freely. She hesitated, realizing that she had lost all concept of time, and she had no idea when Marri would return. But then what would Marri do to her? Put her back where she had already been for what seemed an eternity?

  Chelan calmed herself. Right now, she wanted to be clean most of all, so to hell with Marri. She glanced around, confirming her aloneness, and then dropped her constant companion, the strange white sheet. As the covering enveloped her ankles she suddenly felt horribly exposed. She had never been without it for... for... How long had she been away? A month, possibly two?

  Chelan shook herself out of her unpleasant thoughts and quickly shed her grubby pink shorts and tank top. She gritted her teeth as she stepped into the chamber, cringing under the frigid water as it assaulted her flesh. Still, it was a welcome and long overdue sensation.

  She peered around the enclosure and found what she longed for, a large white block of something-or-other, and she prayed that it was soap or something similar. She tentatively touched it with one finger and waited for a reaction. Her mind mused; with her luck, they lathered up with sulfuric acid. After all, they could probably handle it judging by the water temperature. Any creature who could endure swimming in that pool, working in the glacially cold control center, and showering in this water obviously had skin of steel.

  Chelan's finger appeared to remain intact, and so she picked up the bar. It was scentless and had no soapy feel, but it was extremely smooth. Shivering, she selected a particularly dingy section of hair and carefully drew the bar along it. Her eyes grew wide. The oil and dirt appeared to melt from the lock, leaving it with a shine as if it had been burnished with gold. Chelan dropped the strand and passed the bar over her hand. Her flesh felt tingly and radiated a rosy glow. Spellbound, she turned the bar over and watched in fascination as a pale blue phosphorescence dissipated into white. "Oh, wow..." she whispered.

  Now shivering violently, she decided that the bar was safe, and she rubbed it briskly all through her hair and over much of her body. She carefully avoided her face and genitals for the time being. After all, she didn't want to push her luck.

  Chelan reveled in the shower for only a few minutes more before she thought her flesh would freeze. Carefully, she returned the bar to its platform and pushed off the water panel. She glanced around for a towel, but then halted. She stared down at herself, wonderstruck as the water dissipated from her body as though she was glazed with a protective coating. She touched her now silken tresses, her hair soft and completely dry. "Geez," she whispered in amazement.

  Shaking herself back to reality, she quickly wrapped her security sheet around her and knotted it firmly. Grabbing her cloths, she faltered, wondering once again about the time and whether she should scoot back to her chambers or take a moment to clean the clothes. In turmoil, Chelan tiptoed out into the vast room, looking for Marri. But the entire area seemed clear. Rushing back to the shower, she grabbed the cleaning bar and then headed directly to the pool. Her eyes adjusted slowly to the dim light. As she reached the water's edge she took another cautionary look about for intruders, but none were revealed.

  A smile touched Fremma's lips. She was so innocent, so naïve, and so wonderfully unaffected. But his smile was short-lived. Though he had heard nothing, his sixth sense picked up on a presence in the Command Center. Fremma swung around like an ebony veil, gliding out of the workout area completely undetected. Encountering Korba, he immediately halted any sounds the Warlord may have made by signaling to him in their silent battle languag
e.

  In subtle, nearly imperceptible movements with his fingers and hands, Korba signed his acknowledgement.

  Fremma explained that Chelan had been exploring and had used the shower. He then indicated that she was now by the pool.

  Korba nodded as he evaluated the entire situation. He had learned that Marri was going to be detained for the afternoon and had allowed it because of her long hours spent working with Chelan. Now he was suddenly taken by a mix of electrifying emotions. It was at this moment that he would finally meet the alien girl, and her initial reaction to him would be crucial.

  He signed his thanks to Fremma, and Fremma left, the young warrior's mind full of prudently unasked questions.

  Korba remained fixed to his spot, mulling over whether he should discard his shroud or not. He decided against it. He would only remove the hood that obscured his facial features and the piercing azure eyes that were his people's hallmark.

  Cautiously, he advanced toward the workout area, his heart pumping as though he were stalking prey. He stepped into the large entryway, the bright lighting from the Command Center behind him producing a near halo-like aura about his majestic form.

  He stood motionless as he watched the woman. She remained bent over the pool, scrubbing her cloths, totally unaware of his presence. His eyes, genetically engineered for night vision, could see her clearly. Her golden-brown hair captivated him. The shining silk cascaded down her back and shoulders and covered her body like a fine lace, the locks obscuring her face and gently brushing the floor about her. He could smell her alluring alien scent, and he labored to keep his breathing in check.

  Korba resumed his approach with the stealth of a panther. When he was by the pool's edge, she lifted her head, wringing the water from her shirt. Her reaction was instantaneous. Startled by the hulking presence next to her, images of shrouded figures in the forest slammed into her consciousness. Chelan attempted to leap to her feet but fell backward over the tail of the sheet. All her senses left her. Unmitigated panic ensued, and her mind went blank, her fight-or-flight instincts on override. Regaining her footing, she began to flee, to where she did not care.