The hairs prickled at the back of Jack’s neck. He watched Harkness simulate a docking.
“Then we’ll just have to wait and see.”
Harkness’ lip curled then. The computer showed a successful interlock, its picture flashing in triumph. He looked over his shoulder at Jack.
Jack nodded. “Nice job, pilot. When it comes time for the real thing, don’t forget to account for the wash of the unknown’s drive… if they miss us.”
Harkness blinked. Then he nodded in return. “Will do, commander.” He turned back to the screen. “Alij, you’d better be tracking very closely.”
Amber awoke to a prickling of every sense in her body, all over, like a heat rash. No veil clouded her eyes as she looked up and then stood. Every hair on her bare arms stood out and she rubbed her forearms gently for warmth. Across from her, Colin awoke as well. He got to his feet agilely for an older man who’d spent much of the last twenty-four hours cross-legged in meditation. He patted down his blue overtunic and searched in a leg pocket of his miners’ jumpsuit for a candy. He broke it in two and gave half to her.
“What is it?”
“I don’t know,” she answered. Around them, less sensitive people began to come awake, still groggy in the bad air. The candy brought moistness back to her dry mouth. Information had been scanty, and she knew it wasn’t entirely the fault of those who had taken over the running of the lifeboat. Some of the equipment had apparently been in disrepair. They were running blind and would stay that way until rejoined with the freighter or… or until they ran out of supplies.
The decking underneath her feet reverberated as though they’d hit a bumpy road.
Colin put his hand out and they steadied each other. Rawlins broke through a mass of sleepers and waved at her from the other side of the bay. He trotted over to join them.
“Sergeant Lassaday says it could be a tractor beam or a docking maneuver.”
Amber smiled at the word sent by Jack’s bullet-headed sergeant. Colin’s hand on her shoulder flexed.
“Can he tell for sure?”
“No. The screens are out. But he’ll swear by it.”
Lassaday swore by his nuts, Amber thought. She smiled widely at the memory. A giddiness swept her. Then she thought, It’s nothing but bad air. Euphoria. I should know better. Aloud, she said, “Do you think it’s Jack?”
“I pray it is,” Colin answered. He let go of her as suddenly the vehicle shuddered under heavy and clumsy contact. Metal sounded.
And when it should have been quiet, the bay continued to shudder and echo violently. Denaro, the militant Walker, came to his feet. He’d been shorn of his weapons belts for cold sleep, but his posture now told that he could use hands and feet if nothing else. He was prepared to fight. Colin snapped his fingers and Jonathan left his side with a quickness belying his massive build. When he came to a halt, it was to overshadow the young and rebellious Denaro.
Like an earthquake with no end, the decking rippled under her feet. It brought her to her knees, Colin tumbling down with her, and those still standing screamed and lay down in fear. The bay was filled with cries of panic which tailed off to a sullen, sobbing quiet.
The side of the bay gave out a ring as though it were an instrument that had been struck.
Then silence.
Amber knew the bulkhead was opening. She could almost hear it. Sensed it with other than the five senses DNA had given her. She stood up, alone, and headed to the bulkhead.
If it was Jack, she wanted to be the first there.
She prepared her mind.
If it was not, she wanted to strike with the only weapon she had.
Chapter 6
Guthul was still cursing the cleverness of his enemy when his adjunct entered his quarters. The adjunct’s quivering face plates signaled his excitement.
“What is it?”
“We have a sighting, general. I’ve been requested to bring you to the bridge.”
The general stood. Even for a Thrakian warrior, he was impressive. He arranged his mask into one of dominance and victory, no little feat considering his defeat at the hands of the Dominion Knight. The adjunct quailed as the general passed him, headed for the bridge nest.
Guthul was aware of the attention directed on him as he loped into the bridge and stood erect once more. He eyed the sensor screens. No one had to point out the object of concern. It ruled their sector of space as he did the control nest. His face plates shifted as he put on a subtly inquiring mask.
“What is it?”
“Our grids have been unable to identify. It is a dreadnaught of unknown origin.”
Guthul homed in on the sighting as he came closer. His chitin rustled. “Between us and the Dominion freighter.”
“Yes, general.” “And between us and the Opus crèchelands.”
An audible gasp hissed through the control compartment. Guthul looked about him in anger and surprise. “Had you forgotten? I have not. A sign of leadership is to remember our defeats as well as our victories. We conquered Opus… but our nests have failed. Still, the crèchelands deserve our vigilant protection. Queen Tricatada expects nothing less from us. Adjunct.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Continue pursuit.” Then, as Guthul swept around and prepared to leave the bridge nest, he added briskly, “And be equally prepared to break off pursuit if necessary. I’ll not risk another defeat this trip.”
The adjunct brightened. “Yes, sir!”
So much sweat pooled on Harkness’ brow that Jack wondered how the pilot could see. Leoni bent over and mopped his employer’s brow, but a new puddle beaded up as fast as he wiped the last one away.
Alij looked to Jack. “They’re almost on top of us.”
“Any sign that the turrets are moving into firing position?”
“None, but… smaller weaponry is activated easier and faster. We may not get that notice.”
“I know.” Goddamnit, he knew. Knew better than the navigator. This close the alien ship didn’t need its big guns to blow them apart. And this close to the lifeboat, Jack didn’t want to engage in protective fire without clear sign of hostile activity from the unknown.
Alij had returned his attention to the screen and said, “Uh-oh.”
“What?”
“I’m getting an echo from behind the unknown… that or—”
“Or what?” Jack leaned into the bridge, shoulder armor scraping the bulkhead. Bogie protested. *Watch it, boss. I don’t like crimps.*
“Or the unknown’s so big it’s been eclipsing another ship.” Alij gave the computer another set of coords, and the viewscreen shifted slightly. “Damn. There it is.”
And this one the two of them recognized. The Thraks were right on their heels.
Harkness interrupted, “I’ve got it.”
Alij called out, “They’re close enough to spit on us,” but Jack barely heard him, already on a run to the interconnective bulkhead as the transport clamped its lifeboat back into position.
The docking crew worked in deepsuits, and motioned him forward as the bulkhead began to open.
Rawlins reached Amber’s elbow, but she shook him off as the bulkhead creaked ominously with pressurization from the other side.
“We don’t know who’s boarding. Get back,” he urged in her ear.
Amber swung on him. She didn’t know what he saw in her eyes, but it was enough to make him draw back slightly. “Get the others back,” she said. “I’m staying here.”
Lassaday was propelling the evacuees gently into the crowded bays behind them. Rawlins hesitated, then went to join his sergeant. Amber pivoted back around and waited. A trickle of sweat made its way behind her ear and down her neck.
The bulkhead eased open, revealing a flash of white, and it took no more than that for Amber to be certain. “Jack!” she cried and threw herself forward.
The massive battle armor suit gathered her in as though she were a fragile doll. Even as Jack caught her up, a rumbling and trembling beg
an and the lifeboat shifted suddenly as though not secure in its newly reestablished berth. The bay filled with screams.
“What is it?”
Jack smiled grimly. “We’re being buzzed,” he said.
“The Thraks?”
“We don’t know who,” Jack answered. “And they’re in no mood to be asked. Let’s hope this junker holds together.”
Amber held on tight, her hands clasped at the back of Jack’s neck, so glad to see him she forgot to be angry, and when she remembered, too frightened to keep it up. Pressure plates groaned and creaked until it seemed the freighter would split apart. Then, she realized, it had peaked and was beginning to ebb.
Gradually the rumbling and shaking quieted, and then all was silent. Through the open bulkhead, voices called, and the din began again as the evacuees realized they had been rescued a second time.
Jack carried Amber through the doorway and into the main body of the freighter. She thought she could hear his heart pounding in his chest, but knew that was impossible. Flexalink armor and equipment was between them. The odor of blood and sweat and ash seemed to be embedded in the suit. She wrinkled her nose.
“You’ve been fighting.”
“The Thraks boarded us shortly after we jettisoned the cryo bay.”
Amber looked at the tense line of his jaw, saw the pulse jumping, and knew he did not want to answer the questions she needed to ask. But she did anyway. “Why did you have us brought out of cold sleep? You knew we’d expend supplies.”
“If we couldn’t get back to hook up, I couldn’t just leave you adrift. Awake, you had a chance. Asleep…” his voice faded.
Asleep, she’d have been locked into the nightmare Jack himself had lived. No. He wouldn’t have condemned her to that. She pinched the back of his neck. “Well, next time you think of heroics, don’t think of doing them without me.”
“Unless you’re thinking of enlisting, there won’t be any way you can join. There’s a war on.”
“Mmmm.” Amber caught herself as he swung her down outside the bridge entry. She could hear Harkness’ thickened voice giving orders.
The massive pilot turned and motioned to Jack. “Commander, you’ll need to see this.”
Amber helped Jack shuck the armor and they left Bogie lying in the corridor, seams open, as the control com screen filled with an incredible sight.
“What the hell is that?”
“The unknown. It’s just irradiated Opus.”
Amber caught her breath as she watched the corona flare out around a planet, dominating the screen. She did not register its name, only its demise.
“Who did it?”
“We’re pretty sure the unknown vessel, but not positive. The Thraks are still in range, but we can’t view them now, they’re on the far side of the planet.”
Jack wiped his hand over his face. There were reddened crimp marks over his bare, sweaty torso where leads had been clipped on. His tanned skin was streaked with dirt and ash, his sandy blond hair darkened to brunette by hours of perspiration within his helmet. Amber was caught by the way his presence dominated everyone on the bridge without effort and without intention, and she caught herself thinking, He’s twice the man anyone here is, even as he said, “How bad is it?”
“We don’t know. We’ll keep the readings, but we’ll have to find an expert dockside to examine the readings. One thing for sure… there’s no Thraks alive down there now.”
Jack watched the corona flare into a subtle aura. This was different from watching a planet burn—he’d seen that, too. He did not know if he was . watching homicide—or suicide.
He could think of only one thing to do. He tapped Harkness’ shoulder. “Let’s go home.”
Chapter 7
Interlude
He came to her when the ship had quieted, to the tiny cubbyhole given to her as private quarters. She had her caftan slipped down off one shoulder, her bare arm out, as she applied a balm the nursing staff had given her. The brilliant blue tattoos remained unaffected, but their heat diminished and Amber was basking in the calm, when she suddenly caught her breath.
She sensed him beyond the metal portal. His warmth washed through, touching her, sending her thoughts into turmoil even as the bulkhead opened and he stepped through, massive in the battle armor, smelling of sweat and war… and something more, a musky undertone.
He stopped, wearily, and looked down at her as she caught up the fold of her robe and brought it back up over her shoulder. His tiredness showed in the depths of his rain blue eyes, shadowed by the dimmed lights of downtime. But her senses, heightened by her ordeal on Bythia, caught much more and she came to her feet involuntarily, her hand out to him, even as he said, “I’ll leave if you want me to.”
“No.” Her fingertips brushed his gauntlet. Bogie’s senses as well as Jack’s flooded her. She shrank back at that—Bogie had changed so much she scarcely recognized the sentience. Wisdom encompassed his ferocity and though she knew he overrode Jack’s emotions now, it was with Jack’s permission, for they were no longer parasite and host, but companions. So much had happened to Jack on Bythia that she felt that she rather than the alien Bogie was the stranger, the outsider.
Jack pulled back, as if perceiving her hesitation, and Amber stammered, “Don’t go.”
He dropped his gauntlet back to his side, brushed the glove over his helmet, and then stood there ill at ease. Amber closed her eyes briefly as she felt what he did.
He found the sight of her suddenly hitting him like a swift blow to the stomach, stirring feelings he almost did not recognize. Her tawny hair was disheveled and tumbled about her shoulders along the silken caftan and the glimpse he’d had of her made him tense his jaw for a moment.
She opened her eyes to see the tiny tic along his cheek.
Jack cleared his throat. “I wanted … I wanted you to know why I did what I did.”
She stood in front of him, glad the caftan concealed the trembling that had begun in the hollow of her stomach. “I know why,” she answered softly. “Didn’t you know that I would?”
“Let me talk.”
“If you’ll let me talk about what happened between us.” Without trying, she caught his thoughts again, musky flashes of emotion that seared her as, suddenly, he wondered what the tattoos looked like under her robes. He had an intense desire to trace the designs with his fingers, wherever they might go. The wonderment surged through him and Amber’s head jerked up, and her eyes met his quickly, widening in amazement.
She took a step back. “No. Please. Last time…”
The sweetness of the last time surged through him, melding time and place until he no longer knew if he was in memory or in reality. He shook his head to clear his thoughts and got out, “That wasn’t your fault.”
“It never is! But that doesn’t mean that I can… that you and I…”
“It doesn’t mean we can’t.” He found himself moving forward. Amber put her hand out to stop him.
For an electrifying second, the three of them were one. One pulse raced in desire. One heat rising to the inevitable as they moved into each other’s arms.
Amber drew back slightly. “I refuse to make love to more than one man at a time.”
Jack stopped, his mouth agape. She tapped his armored chest. “I think this is one experience Bogie doesn’t have to share with you.” Deftly, she began to strip him of the armor until he stood alone. Jack kicked his gear to one side and reached for Amber.
He held her so close to him now that he could feel her heart pounding wildly in her chest, her nipples quickening through the fabric of her caftan. “I’ll have to leave you behind again, I won’t have any choice. And I can’t promise you I’ll come back to you.”
Her breath grazed his chin as she answered, “I know.”
“I think we’ve waited long enough.”
“God,” she whispered and looked up at him, her neck arching gracefully and a pulse beating in the curve of her throat. “What if I—”
He hesitated a moment, drinking in the beauty of her young body, breasts high and round, her thighs smooth beneath the blue patterns of the alien artist, the hair of her pubes just as golden and fragrant as that about her face. Wordlessly, she reached for the fastenings on his pants and he let her undress him, feeling his hardness surge forward as she stripped his breeches away.
Then they moved close together, he tracing the feathery, erotic designs upon her skin, and she following the bunching of muscles and tracks of scars from other wars and other times until she gathered in his maleness and he bent to trace his lips rather than his hands about her breasts… and from there, he could remember little thought as their heat swept them away.
He awoke, her silken body curled next to him. The room was still darkened and her soft breathing soothed him. He could not sleep without fitful awakening, haunted still by the nightmare of being trapped in dreams without end. As great as his need for Amber was, having her did not cure him. He lifted his head slightly to look at her sleeping next to him and knew that even her love could not sate his need for vengeance.
There wasn’t a part of each other they had not caressed or claimed, and he lay with his eyes half-open, consummated, yet somehow still lacking and wondering why. Amber moved her head along his bicep, her cheek brushing his arm, then turned and curved in another direction. Gently, he eased his arm from under her.
Amber had given him new life. Always, from the moment he had met her. He was reluctant to leave her now, but, compelled, he continued to ease his body away from her until he could stand.
As he stood, enveloped by the musky smell of her balm and their lovemaking, he realized what it was that drove him away. Amber had made love to a man with only half a past, and not much of a future. Bogie had the key to the other half, and Jack could not rest until it was restored to him. With that past in his grasp, he could offer Amber a future of her own.
Alien Salute Page 6
