Lords of the Dark: A Darkspace Saga Novella
Page 7
"Greetings," said one of them. She looked him over with those soft ebony eyes and her mask of a face suddenly broke into a warm, inviting smile. "You are welcome here, sojourner."
Conrad smoothed down the front of his jumpsuit. "I'm looking for a friend," he said. "About two standard meters tall. He’s Kazhad, and his name’s Argus Nimitz. Lots of fur. All over his body—white and tan fur. Same uniform as me. He's my gunner, and I'm responsible for him. Always have been. I came out here on my own and I’m hoping you might have seen him or his ship."
Conrad realized he was babbling and dimly wondered why.
The lead Nu's smile widened even more. "We are pleased to have you," she sang. Her voice was musical and hypnotic, low and soft. "We wish for you to stay with us."
Conrad paused. She was speaking Earth standard. It was formal, but real standard; his translator wasn't working at all. They must have come across humans before; they looked like humans themselves. He could barely look away from the lead Nu, but a sudden realization shook him out of his paralysis.
So it was true. Pheromones. It had to be pheromones, like all the stories about the Nu. They were sirens, ensnaring the males they came across. What happened to the men they captured was unknown. Some said that they were eaten alive, like the Vehn devoured humans; other said that the Nu held them in thrall for the rest of their lives.
He stood up straighter. There was no denying their beauty, but he decided to think of the least attractive thing in the universe. Argus. Big, hulking, droopy Argus, who smelled like a cross between a Labrador retriever and a wet, dirty sock.
"I'm here searching for my friend," he said again, less foggy now. "Do you have him?"
His determination seemed to perturb them, imperceptibly. "You are a human male," she said. “Of planet Sanctuary. Once called Earth.”
"I am," he said. "Are you a human female?"
The smile returned to her face. "Mostly. Would you like to find out how female I am?"
Conrad decided not to push his luck. He called on his Academy training, thinking of Commodore Garrity.
"No, ma'am," he said, trying to picture the Nu as his superior. No matter how gorgeous the woman, there was no way in hell a cadet would ever be so stupid as to proposition an officer.
She cocked her head. "You are fixated on this alien friend of yours?"
"Is he aboard?" asked Conrad, bluntly. "Have you got him?"
The Nu paused, turning her head to the other women. None of them spoke—at least not aloud.
"He is not on this ship," she said. "But he is with us. He does not serve our needs."
Conrad studied them and made a snap decision. "Do I serve your needs?"
The lead Nu smiled. "Are you offering yourself to us, human?"
"A trade," he said. "If you find me to your liking." A first-rate pervert indeed, he thought to himself.
She closed the gap between them. She was so close he could smell her scent and feel the warmth of her body. "You will suffice," she said.
"I think I can do a little better than suffice," he said, flashing his sleaziest smile at her. Let her think she has me.
"Come," she ordered, sliding her arm under his, guiding him away from his fighter. “You will find no regrets here.”
The Nu ship was the most beautiful, ghostly ship he’d ever seen. He’d seen his fair share of outer solar system freighters and transportal cargo ships, not to mention the Protectorate Corps’ own malfunctioning fleet of training ships. There was a certain degree of grit and grime that was unavoidable on board a spacegoing vessel. But the Nu ship bucked all his expectations—it was as if it had been built yesterday.
He ran a hand over the bulkhead in his quarters. There was no dust or residue of any kind. The room he’d been locked in was bare, stripped of all luxuries aside from a flat, hard bed. There were no lights, save for the dim light of Alpha Aurigae that came in through the porthole.
There was nothing loose that he could use as a weapon. He’d have to improvise something—there wasn’t a chance in hell he was planning to stay for whatever the Nu had planned. He gazed out of the small porthole. The ship hadn’t moved since he’d arrived. Were they really taking him to Argus?
Conrad sat down on the stiff bed. The fatigue of the last twenty-four hours was beginning to creep into his bones. He leaned back. Sleep when you can, eat when you can, screw when you can, the old maxim went. ‘Cause you never know when—or if—you’ll get to do it again.
He wasn’t sure how long he’d been asleep when he felt her above him.
His hand jerked up and seized a pale Nu throat. Inky black eyes looked down at him, unblinking. “A deal’s a deal,” he said to her. “You’ll just have to be patient.”
The room was dark, and he could barely see the outline of her curves. She certainly looked like a woman. Smelled like one, too. He loosened his grip just slightly on her neck.
Suddenly, she forced his shoulders down against the bed. She was inhumanly strong. In another millisecond her lips slid over his, and Conrad jolted up at the touch—
She gasped and slid backwards. Conrad scrambled up.
“No,” she said, her black eyes wide. “It is...you.”
Abruptly, Conrad could breathe again. The room had been filled with intoxicating pheromones, and suddenly they were gone. He brushed his mouth on the back of his hand with distaste, and the Nu did the same.
“Do I know you?” he panted.
“No,” she said. “But we know your father.”
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B.C. grew up on a steady, highly nutritious diet of Star Trek, Star Wars, Babylon 5, and science fiction books that involved aliens, laser guns, and explosions. She likes spicy food, spreadsheets, and talking about books and movies until no one ever wants to go see a movie with her again.
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