“Further trouble. There is no likelihood of reinforcement coming to our aid.”
The words ‘or rescue’ hung as a silent appendix to his comment. Funny, she hadn’t even considered backup, not with him by her side.
Perhaps I’m getting a bit gung-ho in my old age.
“We’re not going to need reinforcements. We’ve got you and TL. I dare the entire Bluthen army to outfox the two of you.” She gave him a half-wry, half-admonishing glance. “Especially if you ever decide to work together.”
The look he gave her implied she was living in fantasyland.
Yeah, well, sometimes I do. I’m allowed.
A gentle melody flowed around the compact space.
What the . . .?
The alien yet relaxing cadence seemed almost . . .
Seriously? Elevator music?
A flash of bottle green and blue streaked by.
Oh, please don’t let there be squid.
A sudden cloud of bright-yellow, blade-shaped fish schooled around their craft, cloaking them in streaming colour and then darting away. Across the glittering white sand they descended towards an enormous snail-like creature, its dark-blue shell adorned with many spikes. It advanced towards a stand of tall, plum-coloured, filigree fans. Shadows from surface-ripples danced a lively jig over the shimmering bottom.
Spires of coral with a central column surrounded by numerous three-inch thick rings of plate, each ring below the other with a larger diameter than the one above, looked like something out of the Jetsons. The clear purity of the water, turning to blue in the distance, reminded her of the Great Barrier Reef.
A great mound of cream-coloured coral shot puffs of pink glitter above its structure. Clouds of tiny green fish swarmed in to feed. Their craft followed the slope of the bottom deeper into the sea. From a cluster of bristly coral, an eel-like creature with a bucket head, tiny points of light around the rim glowing in the fading sunlight, swayed gracefully.
T’Hargen’s wrist twisted beneath her hand then he wrapped his fingers around hers.
“Kathryn?”
“Yes?”
“It’s quite beautiful.”
Relief eased her tight concern for him. She pressed her fingers into his clasp and turned to him.
“Yes.”
He swallowed and darted a swift glance through the cockpit bubble before settling on her again, as though reassuring himself of his mental footing.
It’s pretty tight in here, no room for— Oh, hell! How are we going to get back with the refugees? T’Hargen will have to use the boardwalk or this submersible. How can I let him face this again without support?
To do that would mean abandoning the abductees to make their own way back to shore. She couldn’t do either. When she thought this craft a boat it would have been easy to shepherd people across the boardwalk. But now? She bit the corner of her lip.
“TL—”
“Drone, can you pilot this vessel as an above water craft?”
She stared at T’Hargen. Admiration poured through her at his iron control over his precarious emotions, and his ability to think straight in such trying circumstances. She doubted she’d have anything on her mind except flight if surrounded by clowns. Or possibly a maniacal and frenzied melt down.
The craft shuddered. T’Hargen’s hand clenched around hers with bruising force and fear slated his gaze. Her ribcage nearly gave under the attack of her heart.
What fresh hell now?
She ran a rapid glance around the cockpit. No leaks. No sparks. No anomalous-looking trouble. Her heart eased its chest-beating pace. She continued to stare reassurance at T’Hargen.
“TL,” she muttered out the corner of her mouth, “if that was you, we’ll be having words.”
His somewhat defensive and bewildered warble assured her he was not the cause.
“Then what—”
He whistled negatives as he checked systems, then uttered a subdued woo-woo.
Uh-oh?
“What do you mean?”
“We appear to be subjected to the influence of an external force.”
Alarm raced through her on hob-nailed boots.
Keep calm. Keep calm. Could be a current.
“Elaborate.”
She guessed by T’Hargen’s lack of reaction that TL had not included him in the answer. Concern for T’Hargen? More likely concern for her if T’Hargen freaked out.
TL warbled his findings.
Tractor beam? Hell and damnation! Under whose control?
Surely there could be only one answer to that.
Chapter 8
“What is your concern, Kathryn?”
T’Hargen glared at the drone when the automaton failed to include him in the answer to Kathryn’s query. The corner of her lush lower lip disappeared beneath her white teeth. Hesitation worried her gaze as her lips rolled together and she drew a short breath.
“We appear to be caught in a tractor beam.”
Presumably the AI failed to include me in its answer because it assumed I’d become unstable.
His pride pushed a bit more strength into his resolve. He refused to become unhinged before Kathryn, and he sure as Frak’s guts wouldn’t do so before the machine.
“TL no longer has control of the craft,” she added.
“It could be an automated docking system, Kathryn.”
He glanced forwards through the cockpit bubble into the dark-blue ocean.
All that water.
A shudder vibrated from the heart of his soul. He constricted his muscles and squelched the outbreak of fear. A vast, dark structure with patches of diffuse golden light loomed at the limit of his vision. Their pace towards it increased.
They moved into the shadow of the sea mountain. Gloom descended on the cabin. Dread clawed through his mind and tried to disintegrate his control. He forced his brain to focus on every detail of their situation.
Their heading now took them towards a small opening, about a third of the way from the spire’s base. Dim, teal light glowed faintly from within.
“And if it’s not an automated system?”
He glanced around the confined space of the cockpit.
Our options are limited.
He pressed her hand. “I will not let them take you, Kathryn.”
The machine warbled agreement.
It might prove useful after all.
Kathryn’s thigh pressed more firmly against his. He released her hand and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. The need to comfort and reassure her blazed in his heart like an ancient metal-smith’s forge preparing weapons for battle.
“It is illogical to form a conclusion without all relevant data to hand.”
She snorted.
Not the reaction he had anticipated. Kathryn pulled back a little within his embrace. Fear and resignation lurked behind the amusement on her features.
“You sound like Spock,” she muttered.
He did not know this Spock.
“That is a bad thing?”
She shook her head then rested her cheek on his shoulder line.
“No.”
Her sad murmur nudged something in his heart. Was this Spock someone she had left behind on Earth? Her tone had indicated a certain fondness for the person. A man she had met since her husband’s death? Or—ice grabbed his sacs—someone from the settlement?
He glared at the teal-tinted gloom they approached. His cranial ridges hardened for conflict. An odd sensation pricked along their base and across the swollen crests. He lifted a hand and ran his fingertips over the battle bulges. Multiple, sharp, hard points jabbed into his skin.
What . . .?
Shock squeezed his windpipe. Memory responded
to his confusion and provided an image from his youth.
No. This could not be.
He glanced at the woman in his arms.
Perhaps it could.
He almost emitted one of her snorts. T’Hargen Mhartak, figure of legend. The last—Trog, the only—recorded circumstance of spiked cranial ridges appeared in fables, warriors in an uncivilized society, savagely protecting their own.
Well, mutant or not, he would protect his own.
~ ~ ~
Kat leaned into T’Hargen’s strength, drawing fortitude from his solidity and courage. The teal light they approached reflected on the surfaces of the cabin. TL’s opalescent blue and green seemed to glow with renewed vibrancy. Their craft slowed. They nosed further into the light. The music faded.
Smoothly, as though not to disturb the flat calm of the water, they surfaced into a small, unoccupied cavern. Kat drew in a deep, thankful breath, closed her eyes for a moment, and gritted her teeth as suppressed terror shuddered out of her. She lifted her lids. The light had changed from teal to yellow. A large, five-pointed star, its wavy arms coloured with squiggly markings, etched the cavern wall that backed a rock landing. They gently bumped against the ledge and came to a halt.
Kat looked at T’Hargen.
“Tha—”
She blinked then stared at the wicked, curved thorns spiking his cranial ridges.
O-kaay . . .
The cockpit canopy slid back. T’Hargen’s sigh of relief echoed around the small grotto. Or was that hers?
Both probably.
“Drone, find a data port, discover if our entrance has been noted or not, confirm the precise location of the abductees, safest most direct route, and any opposition we might encounter.”
TL whistled a rude equivalent of ‘I’m already on it’ and glided towards the centre of the star. Kat clambered out onto the ledge. The soft sounds of her movements rebounded in quiet whispers through the enclosed space. T’Hargen alighted from the craft in one sure, muscle-fluid movement. Appreciation stirred through her. Yes, she was glad she had this big hunk of capable male with her.
“Well?” T’Hargen demanded, glaring at her friend.
TL farted at him, then whistled his difficulty in establishing a connection due to excessive corrosion on the data port. A thread of concern and puzzlement wound through his explanation.
“There shouldn’t be?” she asked.
He beeped he thought it unusual, but did not elaborate. A moment later, he let out a long, awed, shocked ooooooo.
“What?”
“Masterframe, she is like me, only bigger, better.”
“Sentient?”
“Yes. All of them are. She has given me data. My masterframe made me.”
“The New Earth masterframe?”
“Yes.”
“But—”
“This is all very touching,” T’Hargen interrupted, “not to mention interesting, but we have more pressing business. Have the Bluthen detected us?”
“No, the trespassers are not aware of our presence,” TL warbled. “I have the captives’ location.”
Relief tunnelled through Kat’s chest, followed by frustration that this was no time for all the many questions raised by TL’s new information to be answered. Well, they’d deal with it when they got back. One thing at a time. She scanned the apparently solid rock walls of the cavern.
“Now all we have to do is find a way out of here.”
“Probably another cohesive hologram,” T’Hargen murmured.
“Got it,” TL burbled.
The rock wall blocking the end of the ledge disappeared. Pearlescent wall panels, glinting with elegant beauty in dim light, lined the polished-silver floor of a corridor that angled away from them. T’Hargen’s scanner bipped. He turned it up and examined the screen.
“Yes, I’ve received the data, dr— . . . er, thank you.”
Well, well. Politeness, that’s a step forwards. Here’s hoping it lasts.
T’Hargen motioned her to remain where she was then stepped forwards and peered down the corridor. A moment later, he waved her to him. TL shot past her, encouraging alacrity.
“Masterframe has compromised her safety by choosing direct, wireless communication with me,” he warbled. “She has been concealing her autonomy from the trespassers. We must move quickly before they can incapacitate her.”
T’Hargen grabbed her hand and headed off down the corridor with her in tow. Heart pounding like a jackrabbit drummer who’d had one too many shots of caffeine, she matched his long stride and sprinted down the corridor.
“Though Masterframe is injured, she has still been able to sabotage much of the trespassers’ interference by inducing computer malfunctions,” TL said. His lasers lit up. “Four trespassers come this way.”
“I’m not receiving anything,” T’Hargen said, gazing at his scanner.
“Masterframe alerted me.”
A corridor loomed on their right. TL veered down it, she and T’Hargen following close in his wake. Twenty feet ahead, a pale lavender door snapped open to reveal a dark room. TL slewed into a turn and sped through the opening. T’Hargen slowed his pace, consulted his scanner, then ushered her in before him. The door swished closed behind them.
TL shed a soft glow. A banner fresco in gold, silver, and red ochre depicting intertwining scrollwork like that on the towers and the tree on New Earth lined the twenty-foot-or-so walls of the pentagonal room.
Did the Bluthen follow? Did they detect us?
Kat swallowed the words desperately trying for voice, not to mention her heart that seemed intent on crawling up her throat. She sniffed. No scent of Bluthen.
TL oo-ooed a soft, “All clear.”
“Now where?” she whispered.
A wall to their left shimmered then vanished. Another softly lit, similar-sized and -shaped room appeared. TL glided towards it. She took a step to follow. T’Hargen’s hand locked onto her forearm and checked her. She turned to him. His focus trained on his scanner, he held her a moment more. Then his detaining grip eased and she strode forwards with him by her side into the next room.
She stared at a small forest of leggy mushrooms, their smooth, pale, parabolic caps tufted with a single line of multi-coloured, spiky, punk-like tendrils.
Looks like a row of Pakula lures.
Visions of fireflies and squid danced in her head.
“TL, you will tell us to avoid anything in here that might not be, well, friendly?”
He warbled a mildly affronted assurance.
“Sorry, just checking.”
Straight ahead, another wall shimmered then disappeared. They strode into another room. Aquamarine, lacy growth covered four walls, tiny gold stars pulsed sporadically through the glistening threads. Another opening appeared and they veered left. She stared at a transparent wall of green—
Is that water?
She took a pace back. T’Hargen dragged her behind him. She stuck her head out to the side and peered around his large frame. The wall of water remained, stationary as though frozen. TL was already three feet into—
Wait! It’s not solid.
An aisle tunnelled through the liquid.
Oh, no.
She glanced at T’Hargen. Concrete tension gripped his body.
Oh dear Lord, as if being underwater in a submersible hasn’t been enough. I can almost see his mind working, formulating all sorts of dreadful scenarios. What if the holographic wall reappears and the force-field supported water-aisle collapses? There isn’t even the hope of reaching the surface in there. That room is nothing but water.
“TL, is there another way?”
Her friend flew back and hovered directly before T’Hargen’s face.
“She will
see you safely to the other side,” he crooned. “Come, we must hurry.”
Kat wrapped her hand around T’Hargen’s bunched fist.
“We’ll find anoth—”
“No.” The adamantine resolution in his voice concerned her.
Lord, please don’t let him push himself past breaking point.
Spine stiff, T’Hargen marched into the corridor behind TL. She leaped after him, keeping close. She longed to place a hand on his back in comfort, but she feared that would distract him from the terrible necessity of wrangling his fears into submission.
A long, metallic, slowly undulating ribbon swayed at the edge of her vision. She spared a glance into the green water surrounding them. Basketball-sized, silver-grey bubbles clung to the walls and grew atop each other in long, curling strings. T’Hargen’s pace increased. She lengthened her stride. The corridor curved to the right and continued.
She listened to T’Hargen’s breathing. Steady, even.
Good. Here’s hoping the next room is pretty damn close.
T’Hargen’s body tensed, as though readying for flight. Her heart abseiled to her feet, then thumped like she’d booted it.
Hang on, T’Hargen.
He broke into a steady jog.
Not frantic though.
Cautious hope dropped a salvage line to her fallen heart, and she picked up her pace to remain behind him. They burst from the corridor into another room. Completely devoid of liquid. She glanced back. Nothing behind them but a solid—well, opaque anyway—wall. She closed her eyes and breathed a silent sigh of relief.
“So that went satisfactorily,” T’Hargen observed.
His dry, rather mild tone surprised, impressed, and amused her. Respect for his incredible inner strength shifted through her again. She squeezed the extensive bulge of his shoulder.
Alien, Awakening (Alien, Mine Series Book 2) Page 16
