Puffing on her feelgood, Yunnivannx acted bored. She swaggered over to the guards, who straightened to attention with alacrity and saluted as the scientist evaluated the prisoners. “Are these the human women selected to amuse the new security commander?”
“Yes, doctor,” said the guard who’d been eyeing Gemma. “Each installation is providing a contingent. These are the best of ours, based on the criteria we were sent.”
The scientist and her companion laughed. “He’ll be disappointed in them,” Yunnivannx said. “Mark my words. The humans will all be sent back to the labs soon enough. Or he’ll use them as prey.”
“You know him?” the underling asked with a bit of awe in her voice.
“His family and mine are in the same circles on the home world,” the senior scientist said, preening a bit, toying with her hair. “He’s got a nice streak of cruelty running through his every action.”
Gemma shuddered. She found all the Khagrish to be cruel to varying degrees, so if the scientist believed the man she spoke of to be cruel, he must be a monster beyond belief. And I’ve been picked to be sent to him. Despair was a heavy weight on her mind. The beauty of the day lost any magic to raise her spirits.
A large flyer swooped over the horizon and set down shortly on the nearby landing pad. It wasn’t like anything Gemma had seen before on this planet, being somewhat boxy in shape. The entire rear end opened, revealing a utilitarian interior, one side lined with seats. Clamps and fixtures for securing cargo lined the other.
“Why do we have to use this?” Yunnivannx was plainly displeased and let the guards know it. “I’m not flying like a piece of common cargo. I’ll have you know my rank is of the highest on this forsaken planet.” Her voice rose and became strident. “I refuse to board this—this contraption. Let me know when you’ve procured a more suitable flyer.” She dropped her feelgood, ground it out with her heel and pivoted to go inside the lab.
“Dr. Yunnivannx,” The voice was cold and unemotional. “Are you done with your tantrum now?”
Gemma stared at the Khagrish who dared to challenge the scientist. Having just emerged from the flyer in question, he was dressed in the drab black of the security forces, with several badges indicative of rank. His hair was almost as red as Yunnivannx’s and he had a red moustache, the first facial hair she’d seen on a Khagrish.
Gemma waited for an explosion of temper but instead she got the surprise of her life as Yunnivannx spun around, did a double take and ran to the man, a broad smile on her face. “Zarfannwe! Never tell me you’ve been assigned to this dismal planet?”
The two kissed with so much passion it was obvious they knew each other unusually well. Gemma heard the guards making crude comments behind her, keeping their voices low.
The new arrival swatted Yunnivannx on her behind. “I’ve got a schedule to keep, woman, and an impossible boss to please—the new head of security wants to see you, and he doesn’t like excuses.”
“What does he want, do you know?” She batted her eyelashes at him.
Gemma hid her amusement behind her hand.
“He’s got authority from the council to rein in you scientists. Old Gahzhing is losing his touch—we know there’s a bigger problem on this damn planet than he’ll admit to. My boss is thinking of putting you in charge of science.” The man leaned closer to Yunnivannx, who was preening. “And the promotion for you works for me, since we both know what we can accomplish together. Based on our shared past on untranslatable cleaning that mess up.”
“I received my award from the hand of the emperor himself,” Yunnivannx said, looking smug.
“And I got enough gold zillkins to buy myself a large estate,” the officer said. “Let’s see what we can achieve in this misbegotten place.” He grinned. “If you’ll lower yourself to travel on my less than beautiful cargo ship. You can ride in the cockpit with me as I’ve no co-pilot. After we’re on the established route to my next stop, I can engage the autopilot to allow me to pay proper attention to you.” His voice was enticingly low pitched and Yunnivannx beamed. He added, “We do have to make a stop at the northeastern lab to pick up some specimens, safely in their envelopes.”
Gemma shuddered. The aliens who’d kidnapped all of the humans from various places—ships, space stations, even an entire colony or so she’d been told—had encased every single person in a special stasis envelope. Many humans hadn’t survived the experience, dying from inadequate care as soon as they were released. She’d done her best to help those who were brought into the communal cell, but with no supplies, too many died despite her efforts. Her own memory of the time in the stasis envelope was still too fresh and terrifying to allow herself to think about.
“We’re waiting for my Badari,” the scientist said, casting an annoyed glance in the direction of the lab. “Ah, here he comes now.”
Gemma shaded her eyes, mildly curious to see what sort of exotic animal the scientist kept as a pet. She was shocked to see two lab techs and a security guard escorting an antigrav litter which held a large humanoid male strapped down. As the litter passed by her on the way to the flyer, she observed that although clearly not human, the prisoner was handsome in a rugged way. Easily seven feet tall if he’d been standing, he had to weigh over 300 pounds, most of it pure, toned muscle from what she could see. His eyes gleamed golden fire and she had the impression of caged energy, although he was utterly motionless. Hatred fairly radiated from the man as Yunnivannx motioned for the litter to stop and she and the security officer moved closer.
Zarfannwe whistled. “A prime specimen. How did you acquire him?”
“The guards captured him, close to the perimeter. The new scanner we received does wonders in detecting these animals, and they don’t seem to know about it. Or at least this one didn’t.” She patted the captive on the shoulder. “I had experience with this one when I was an intern, years ago. I’m quite looking forward to becoming reacquainted.”
The Khagrish man laughed. “I might enjoy watching, remember to invite me.” He took her elbow and guided her toward the flyer. “We’d better get moving. I do have another brief stop to make, as I mentioned previously.” He paused, overtaken by a coughing fit.
Gemma’s medical instincts flared to life at the sound. That was the cough of a person in an advanced stage of illness, which the pilot wasn’t, not to her eyes anyway. Something wasn’t right here. How could he be so ill and managing to walk, let alone fly?
Yunnivannx pulled away from him, eyes wide. “How long have you had this cough?” Her degree of alarm appeared unusually elevated, Gemma thought, compared to how friendly she’d been to the man until this moment.
“It’s just the dust out here,” he said dismissively. “I had the mountain fever vaccine before setting foot on the planet. Not to worry.” He yanked her closer, although now her body language expressed reluctance, and they strolled into the cargo ship arm in arm. The man on the antigrav litter was propelled after them by the lab techs and Gemma and the other two bedraggled human women were herded into the drafty expanse and made to sit and buckled in. A guard sat at the opposite end of the seats, close to the door and one lab tech remained on board as well. The other tech and the second Khagrishi woman remained outside.
Yunnivannx emerged from the cockpit and stopped beside the litter, which had been clamped into brackets. Gemma was seated closest to the male prisoner and she watched in disbelief as the scientist bent over her prisoner and openly fondled his body with a possessive touch, unfastening his shirt to glide her fingertips across his bare chest. “We’ll be late arriving at the primary lab,” she said to the man as she ran her hand across his chiseled abs and inside his pants with a proprietary air. “You may need another injection, just to be safe. Lucky I brought more of the formula in my satchel.”
Gemma heard the helpless captive growl at the scientist as if he was the wild animal she’d at first assumed a ‘pet’ would be. His eyes were flaming in the dim light of the cargo carrier but he made no move, not even strain
Sorry for the man, Gemma avoided staring at him, except for quick glimpses from her peripheral vision. She wished she could help him but was sure the guard in the stern would punish her if she unbuckled the belts restricting her movement to go to the litter. 820—was that his name? He’d closed his eyes and a sheen of sweat covered his face and muscular arms. Afraid of flying? No, not a man as tough looking as he is. I’d want him on my side in a fight. Maybe a side effect of the drug he’s obviously been given?
They’d been flying for perhaps half an hour and Gemma was drowsing, head against the vibrating bulkhead, when the flyer took an abrupt turn to port, before straightening again. Adrenaline coursing through her veins, she sat up and her gaze met an equally alert glance from the prisoner on the litter. Clearly, the maneuver hadn’t been normal. Even as she had the thought, the flyer nosed up dramatically, the engines whining as if pushed beyond their limit, before rolling over and falling into a steep dive.
Gemma heard herself screaming as she hung onto the straps for dear life. The women next to her were having hysterics and the guard had undone his own safety harness and was fighting to make his way up the aisle toward the cockpit. Gemma heard Yunnivannx cursing as the door swung open but the words were lost in the general noise. As the violent gyrations continued, a cargo container broke loose, careening through the space, striking the guard and bowling him over in a shower of blood.
“Brace yourself,” the captive shouted to her in Basic.
She did her best to curl into a ball, head down, and prayed to the Lords of Space.
The impact when the flyer plowed into the ground was the most horrifying thing she’d ever experienced. Later she could only remember fragments of what happened, as if she’d had her eyes closed intermittently. When the violent rolling and all the horrific sounds had stopped she was hanging upside down in the straps, blood dripping from a cut on her forehead.
Coughing from the acrid smoke drifting in the air, she stared at the flyer’s cabin. “We’re on fire,” she said, feeling stupid and slow and incapable of motion.
“Not yet,” the man in the litter said. “But soon. Get yourself loose or die, lady.”
Gemma stared at him, trying to process the words. Her mind was fuzzy. He was still strapped into the antigrav litter, which must have saved his life by countering the effects of the crash to some extent. Wondering why he wasn’t fighting to get himself loose, she fumbled with the buckles, too woozy to remember how the mechanism worked until by sheer accident she hit the right place on the latch and fell with a jarring thud to the floor, which had been the ceiling. Checking on the women who’d been seated next to her, she saw at a glance the first was dead, eyes wide and staring, her neck at an impossible angle. The second woman was moaning. She’d been impaled by a piece of loose metal from the shuttle’s structure and Emma’s educated guess was she’d also soon be dead. Removing the spike would only kill her sooner. The lab tech was lying underneath a large section of the bulkhead. Gemma ‘s assessment was he’d been crushed. There was no sign of the guard but the back end of the shuttle was missing, the remainder a contorted tangle of metal and wires.
Moaning sounded from the front of the shuttle, where the cockpit had been, and she took a step toward the flyer’s bow.
“Save yourself,” the man in the litter said. “The Khagrish wouldn’t help you if the situation was reversed.”
He was her priority before considering anyone else. She climbed on the debris where his litter sat precariously and worked on the clamps restraining him. “Are you okay? No pain anywhere?”
“I think there may be internal injuries but I’ll heal.” He sounded so eerily calm she assumed he was in shock.
She got the clamps to retract and stood back, waiting for him to rise. “Well, come on.”
He grimaced and she noticed his eyes were blazing pools of light in the dim, smoky cabin. “I can’t move.”
She stepped closer and ran her hands over his limbs, assessing the bones. Not unexpectedly his pulse was fast, but strong. “I’m not finding anything obviously wrong. Do you have sensation in your extremities? Are you paralyzed?” Sparks flew from a panel between her and the only way out of the flyer and she cringed but continued her rapid exam. “There’s no blood, reflexes seem in order—”
“Drugged. Fucking Khagrish med. I can’t do anything unless I’m ordered to do so.”
Gemma pushed her hair out of her eyes, noticing a bad scratch on her lower arm with a piece of shrapnel protruding. Feeling eerily detached, she pulled the shard out and threw it to the deck. “I don’t understand.”
“Lady, we don’t have time to chitchat. Order me to get to my feet and then tell me to get you out of here.” His voice was harsh.
“Stand up then and help me check on the pilot and Dr. Yunnivannx,” she said, irritated and puzzled at the same time.
He rose and she appreciated how tall he was, and even more muscular than she’d thought before. A valuable ally. “You have to walk and I’ll follow,” he said with a clenched jaw. “But we don’t have time to screw around checking on those bastards.”
Flames were now shooting from several panels in the rear. Gemma checked the second human woman rapidly while the man stood where he’d planted his feet and glared at her. “She’s dead,” Gemma said, although she doubted her ferocious companion cared. I’ll mourn her and the others later. Pressure to keep moving ate at her as the smoke filled the space and the flames grew.
Pushing her way past toppled debris and seats gone off their stanchions, she made her way to the cockpit door, which was hanging askew. Gemma could only get her head and shoulders into the crumpled space. The pilot was dead, mangled by the impact. Yunnivannx was in her seat but her legs were crushed under a console and there was no hope for the woman. If they’d been on a major Sectors planet and medevac was waiting outside the wreck, then maybe Gemma could save her life.
“Kill me. I don’t want to burn to death in here. I know I’m dying anyway, get it over with.” Yunnivannx spoke in breathless whispers.
“We’ve got to go,” yelled the man from behind Gemma.
Exerting unbelievable strength under the circumstances, Yunnivannx lifted her head from the blood splattered cushion. “He’s alive? Of course he is, nothing kills those cursed animals.” She raised her voice and screamed, “820, I command you to get in here and give me a merciful death. I’ve seen you beasts kill before, I know you can do it.” Moaning, rolling her head from side to side on the ruptured cushion, she said, “I refuse to burn to death.” Tears dripped from her eyes.
Next thing Gemma knew, she was gently moved aside and the man took her place, reaching into the compartment with his large hands. Gemma blinked at the sight of knifelike black talons extending from the former prisoner’s fingers. She shuddered, supposing he planned to slash the scientist’s throat in order to carry out her macabre but understandable request given the circumstances.
Gemma couldn’t find it in her heart to feel anything but a faint sorrow for the Khagrish, remembering the depraved nature of her deeds at the lab.
Nauseous and realizing the fire was getting worse, Gemma stumbled toward the opening. Nearly there she looked back and was horrified to see 820 standing in the smoke beside the cockpit door. He really will stay there and die if I don’t say something. Coughing, she could hardly get words out of her parched throat. “Hurry up, come to me and help me out of the shuttle.”
He marched through the deformed cabin to her side, picked her up bodily, turned sideways to present his broad back to the shooting flames from the bulkhead and carried her outside. He kept walking until she remembered the rules and said, “Stop. Put me down.”
As she patted frantically at scorched and smoking spots on his shirt, he said, “Thanks for not leaving me to roast in there, but we’re still too close. The shuttle is going to explode.”
“Follow me then.” She ran toward a stand of trees and he was at her heels. She almost stumbled over the body of the missing guard, or what was left of him. Gruesome was an understatement, but she’d seen worse before and was able to give the corpse a clinical once over before she averted her eyes.
“We need his weapon and the neurocontroller,” 820 said as he jogged easily.
“All right.” Gemma stopped and heaved an exasperated sigh as her companion kept running. “Stop, wait for me.”
Skidding to a halt, he stood like a statue while she forced herself to unhook the neurocontroller from the guard’s belt and extract the stunner from the holster. “You could command me to do that,” he said.
“It’s all right, I’m not squeamish. I can handle it.” Nonetheless, she was relieved when her task was complete. Carrying the two items, she sprinted past him. “Get a move on, run!”
They were barely inside the tree line when the shuttle blew up with amazing force. Gemma grabbed 820 and dragged him with her as debris shot over their heads, striking the trees so hard she was afraid several might topple. She crawled to the right as the canopy of leaves overhead began to burn, ordering him to follow her, and they sought refuge in a small grassy hollow, well away from the fire. A stream meandered through the greenery. Gemma lay on her back, drawing deep breaths of the fresh air, staring at the blue sky, marred by a towering plume of black smoke. Now she had the shakes in reaction to the trauma and close call.
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