They’d hiked for two hours in difficult terrain when a Khagrish flyer screamed by overhead at high altitude. Camron drew the blaster and directed Gemma into deeper cover.
“Do you think it’s trying to find us? Or merely going from point A to point B on a routine flight?” she asked in a whisper as she crouched low.
He shook his head, waiting to see if the flyer would come around again. “No idea, but it’s the first one we’ve seen so I take their presence as a bad sign.” Altering the course he’d been following, he led her at a tangent to the direction he truly wanted to go and hiked the rest of the day sticking to the safest route he could pick out. He didn’t see the flyer again which was a relief, but he stayed on high alert and resisted all temptations to linger or turn aside from their course. No more nature watching.
Two days later, they were out of the foothills and working their way through a dry dusty landscape of deep valleys and huge rock formations towering to the sky. Fast flowing rivers forced Camron to divert more than once, and he was anxious and on high alert.
And despite his heightened situational awareness, he was surrounded before he could react.
Holding out one hand, he pulled Gemma to him protectively, while he kept the blaster at the ready.
“What is it?” She squinted as she examined the canyon they were traversing.
“Tzibir, the reptilian-influenced DNA line of Badari I told you about,” he said before raising his voice and addressing the watchers he couldn’t see but scented. He’d walked right into their trap and brought Gemma with him. Nothing for it now but to hope the pack was neutral. “I know you’re there. All my mate and I want is to proceed on our way. I’m not looking for any trouble.”
“Throw down the blaster then.” The voice came from up high, to the left.
Moving with extreme caution, he put the safety on and tossed the weapon as directed. Gemma stared in disbelief, first at him for surrendering so tamely then at the rocky wall, where the cunning soldiers were in deep camouflage. Camron knew her human eyes wouldn’t have detected the Tzibir. Even he could barely make them out, now that he was paying strict attention with their capabilities in mind. He cursed himself for not scenting them sooner, but the Tzibir had the least scent of all the Badari variations, and he’d had no expectation of meeting them on this trek.
A man leaped from the cliff wall where he’d evidently been clinging with ease, landing in front of Camron while five more soldiers released their camouflage to show themselves with weapons trained on him. At Gemma’s gasp of astonishment and alarm, he held her tighter. Hands on his hips, the leader surveyed the two of them.
“What brings a Badari and a human to this remote area? I thought all of you were hiding somewhere in the northern forests?”
“I need to rejoin my pack as soon as possible,” Camron said, neither agreeing or disagreeing. He wasn’t about to reveal any information to the Tzibir. They might be of Badari extraction, but the shared ancestry didn’t make them automatic allies. “We’ve been traveling for quite a while already. If you’d step aside and let us pass—”
Blinking rapidly, the other man shook his head. “No can do. My Alpha is going to want to meet you. We’ve had no contact with the other packs since we left the labs and he’d never forgive me for allowing you to simply walk away. You’ll be our guests for the night.”
Camron extended his right hand. “I’m Camron and this is Gemma, my mate. I remember you but not your name, sorry.”
After a pause, as if he was surprised by the gesture, the Tzibir grinned and shook his hand. “I go by Tratus.” He shook Gemma’s hand as well and Camron hoped she wasn’t fooled by this genial display of polite greeting. The underlying scent messages, although subtle, were all wrong. The Tzibir was hiding something.
The squad formed up with Camron and Gemma in the center and moved out, going deeper into the canyon then into a ravine that opened up unexpectedly. The descent was treacherous and Camron assisted Gemma, relieved the Tzibir had left his hands unbound. For now. This encounter could go badly in a heartbeat because his pack and the Tzibir had been rivals for survival in the labs, and common DNA heritage only went so far. He wished he could give Gemma a quick briefing but since they weren’t telepathic he could only hope she’d follow his lead.
“How did you end up here, hundreds of miles from the original lab?” he asked Tratus as he trudged along.
The Tzibir enforcer, for that was the level Camron classified him to be, threw his arms out and gestured at the landscape. “What’s not to love? It’s hot, which suits our nature, and there aren’t any pesky neighbors or annoying Khagrish. A garden spot, you’ll see.”
As he rounded another curve on the descending trail, Camron saw an oasis spread out before them, a few more hundred yards below but protected from detection by aerial survey by the overhanging cliffs. There were openings in the rocky walls surrounding the green area and the small lake, and he guessed the Tzibir must have gone for cave dwelling the way the other Badari had, far to the north.
As she’d hiked, Gemma was on edge, not liking the situation. Camron’s hold on her hand was tight, which was reassuring, and he seemed to be bantering with the man in charge easily enough. Her translator implant worked overtime and made sense of the language, although she gave no sign she comprehended unless a remark was made to her in Basic. Yet, for all his pleasant demeanor, Tratus had forced Camron to disarm and taken her belt knife.
She eyed the six men accompanying them. The soldiers were obviously of Badari root stock, and Tratus, the guy in charge was nearly as handsome as Camron, with similar facial lines, enough to be cousins perhaps. Instead of eyebrows he had a bony ridge over each eye and there was something not quite human about his eyes, a reddish tinge at times. The other soldiers were a range from nearly as human in appearance as Tratus all the way to the rearguard, whose face was oddly shaped, with more of the bony ridges on his forehead, no visible ears and a neck frill pulsing in and out. His eyes were black and yellow, like a snake’s or a lizard’s, and he gave her the chills when he focused on her. She crowded Camron, and he patted her arm silently.
Apparently, the Tzibir’d been able to completely camouflage themselves to match the canyon walls above and at least some of them must have suckers on their fingers and toes, to have been clinging so easily to the rock.
And all of them, even Tratus, had iridescent scales faintly marked on their skins.
More Khagrish experiments obviously, as Camron had indicated the first time he’d mentioned the Tzibir, in the Wanderer’s cache cave.
She was relieved to see the oasis and even happier when the tricky descent along the cliff was complete and she was walking across a sandy area toward the beckoning greenery. Men and boys came out of the cliff openings or walked from their tasks at the lake and the fields beyond, lining up to gawk as she and Camron approached with their escort. There were no females.
The crowd parted and a tall man walked out to greet them. He was somewhere in between the near-human appearance of Tratus and the reptilian aspects of the soldier who scared Gemma the most. The newcomer was tall, heavily muscled, with a mane of black hair controlled by a loosely tied leather thong. Bare chested and brawny, the leader’s scaling had a golden sheen to the iridescence.
“The Alpha,” Tratus murmured. “Briator.”
“Well, well, look what the winds brought us today,” the Alpha said in Basic, throwing his arms wide. “Are you lost, Badari?”
“On my way home,” Camron said, “With my mate. But your man insisted we take a detour here. Is there a message you’d like me to convey to my Alpha? And his mate? You remember her—the one responsible for freeing all of us?”
“Well done, Tratus,” the Alpha said, ignoring the questions. He paced forward and inspected Camron and Gemma closely.
Camron stood at parade rest, but kept her within the circle of his arm. Gemma forced herself to keep her spine straight and not cling to her mate, but Briator and his swaggering
“We didn’t ask to be freed, if you may recall.” Briator stopped in front of Camron. “We were the chosen variation, the ones the Khagrish wished to elevate and continue to enhance.” He poked Camron in the chest provocatively. “Your pack and Jamokan’s were the ones who lost, sentenced to be discontinued.”
Her mate stared coolly into the eyes of the Alpha. “Yet you ran when you had the chance.”
“Your Alpha’s mate left me no choice—she threatened to take my cubs if I didn’t leave the lab.” The Alpha’s tone was ice. He blinked and spun toward his assembled people. Raising his arms, he laughed heartily and said, “But all of that is over and done, past history, right? And now we’re free men, living in this wasteland, scratching out a living instead of doing what we trained to do, which is fight wars against her people.” He jabbed a finger in Gemma’s direction.
“The humans are our allies,” Camron answered calmly.
“Yours maybe. Not mine. I have no need to ally my pack with weaklings.” He checked Gemma out, one eye ridge cocked, attention lingering on her curves.
“The humans fight well,” Camron said. “My mate is an excellent teammate in times of danger.”
“Human women are better employed for other tasks,” Briator said with contempt. He stepped back and gestured to the soldiers standing around them. “Take her.”
“Touch my mate and die,” Camron said, holding Gemma close. His fangs and talons were on display, gleaming in the sunlight. “We’re bonded mates, blessed by the Great Mother herself.”
The advancing Tzibir paused, looking to their Alpha.
“The ancestral memory holds that to interfere with a man’s mate is forbidden,” said a Tzibir standing nearby.
Gemma yanked down the collar of her tee shirt to display the golden circle. “It’s true, your goddess blessed us.” She heard muttering in the ranks of assembled Tzibir and saw men exchanging uneasy glances. Clearly, this threat from the Alpha wasn’t sitting well with all of his followers, but how much help could she or Camron hope for? She took deep breaths, trying to fight the tightness in her chest and the panicky instinct yelling she should run for her life.
“So she speaks Badari? Interesting.” Briator laughed. “Then she’ll be better able to obey my commands when I take her into my bed.”
Camron shoved Gemma behind him and roared defiance. “I’ll kill you before I allow you to lay one hand on my mate.”
Soldiers came at him from every direction, and he was carried to the ground by sheer numbers, although he had the satisfaction of slashing several of his attackers and inflicting serious bite wounds on others. Of course, the men would heal, but they’d bear his marks for a few days.
The soldiers yanked him to his feet, although he struggled in their grip and his rage was a red mist nearly blinding him as he saw Briator holding Gemma, who was doing her best to break free.
“You cannot steal another man’s mate or take by force what a woman doesn’t choose to give.” Camron shouted his protest, and the words echoed off the cliffs.
“Are you challenging me?” Briator sounded amazed, theatrical as always. He eyed Camron, with disdain, as if the prisoner was under inspection and found lacking. “You’re no threat to me, soldier. You’re not alpha material, not even an enforcer. Merely a soldier—there’s no way you could defeat me and take my place.”
“I don’t want your fucking place. I want you to restore my mate to me and let us leave.” Camron admitted to himself that in ordinary times the Tzibir Alpha would be entirely correct—he couldn’t prevail in a dominance challenge over an Alpha. One of the many mysteries of their DNA was the way an alpha-born had extra strength and power. Today though, spurred on by fear for his mate? He could take on the entire pack. His adrenaline roared through his body and the heightened instincts of the feline predators which had contributed DNA to his form were on high alert. He didn’t doubt the goddess would give him victory.
“Camron’s my mate,” Gemma said, attempting to pull free of Briator’s bruising grip on her arm. “I’ll never willingly choose another, and I’ll do my best to kill you if you try to carry out your threats.”
“The weak human thinks she has fangs,” Briator laughed. "I’ll enjoy our encounters.” Now he stared directly at Camron. “Had you considered maybe I’m saving your mate from a worse threat? The order was transmitted over a week ago to be on the watch for you, which is why I had scouts patrolling so far out on the range. The Khagrish want you badly, enough to make serious concessions and I’m going to trade you to them. You’ll bring me a high price. The orders mentioned her as well, but I’ll keep her here, safe. Consider it my favor to a fellow Badari.”
“You—you’re in communication with the Khagrish?” Camron found it hard to draw breath to speak, as if he’d been punched in the gut. Betrayal from one of his own kind was a bitter taste in his mouth. “You’d turn a fellow Badari over to them?”
“Not only am I in communication with them, my pack is in good standing. In fact, I’ve sent five of my best soldiers off planet on a Khagrish combat mission, to help them convince the Chimmer customer there are no problems with the program here.” Briator played to the crowd now. “And, in recognition of my assistance, I’m receiving five human women to use as organic breeders, so the Tzibir line continues even without the lab.”
“You can’t do that,” Gemma said, yelling to be heard over the cheer a few of the men raised at his words. “Human women have rights, we’re not a—a baby making resource for you and your men to subjugate and use as you please. We’re sentients the same as you are. Equals.”
“Better to be with us, highly cosseted and appreciated, than to die in the Khagrish labs as the subject of their experiments.” Briator shrugged. “I’ll name one of you as my equal when you can defeat me in combat. When you can defeat one of my soldiers in battle. Even my cubs could easily destroy a human.” He forced her to splay her fingers for him then dropped her hand with contempt. “No fangs, no claws. Weak.”
“The choices you list aren’t the only possibilities we have, or you have. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. You’re showing yourself to be no better than the animals the Khagrish say you are.” Gemma hurled the worst insult a Badari could hear at the Alpha’s head.
“You’re wrong, Briator, and you should listen to her,” Camron said, in the grip of his killing rage. “All of you need to heed her words.”
“Enough of this endless talk. The debate is finished, and I am not going to go through the farce of a dominance challenge with you tonight. I’ll send the message of your capture to my contact and have you picked up in the morning. Take him away.” Dragging Gemma, Briator headed toward the cliff residences, despite her screaming at him and flailing with her fists, making no impression on him even as she landed blows on his body.
Desperate, Camron lunged after them and dragged his guards a few feet before they got him under control. One knocked him in the head with a club and he collapsed under the pile of Tzibir and lost consciousness.
Briator finally picked Gemma up and carried her over his shoulder to his destination inside the cliff dwelling, because she struggled so much. He held her virtually immobile as he ascended a ramp and entered the cooler environs. She was fighting tears, worried for Camron and for herself, yet determined to do whatever was in her power to fight this Alpha.
He deposited her in a chair and tied her down, slapping her hard across the face when she resisted. “Feisty, aren’t you?” he said, stepping back. “The soldier may like a woman who resists but I don’t, so the sooner you learn to comply, the better for you. I will beat this foolish impertinence out of you.”
She spat at him and was slapped again for her troubles.
“I need to call this in to Dr. Gahzhing,” he said. “And somehow I doubt you’ll be quiet.” Going to the other room, he returned with a piece of cloth and gagged her.
Exhausted, in pain, fighting flashbacks to her experience on Taranado Three, Gemma listened to the com call between Briator and the Khagrish. During the protracted negotiations Tratus entered the room where Gemma sat. He tilted his head, listening to his Alpha’s conversation then squatted next to her chair. He eyed her battered face and shook his head before laying a hand on her arm and squeezing gently.
“Your mate will be fine,” he said, voice low.
Startled, Gemma flinched away.
Briator concluded the call and swaggered into the room. “Is the damn soldier squared away?”
“Tied like a suckling faleker fawn to the pole in the punishment hut,” Tratus said, rising to his feet smoothly. “You had to get rough with this one?”
Briator crossed to a table pushed against the far wall and poured himself a glass of what smelled to Gemma like an alcoholic feelgood. He raised the tumbler in her direction in a mock toast and drank the contents in one swallow. Going to pour himself another, the Alpha said, “She’ll learn to be obedient soon enough. Her so-called mate is worth his weight in gold to us. Gahzhing is adding ten more human women to the total. Apparently, his new planetary security chief is avid to get his hands on 820, as they name him. No fuss over this female, no questions when I said we hadn’t seen her.”
Tratus kept his tone respectful. “Won’t the soldier tell the Khagrish we lied?”
Briator shook his head. “Doubtful. He goes to his death, and if he cares about her as much as he says he does, he’ll keep his mouth shut to save her from the same fate.”
Gemma blinked hard to stop the tears. The callous Alpha was right. Camron would sacrifice himself for her.
Tratus yanked at the neck of her tee shirt and ripped it slightly, to expose her mate mark. “I’m surprised you want this female at all.”
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