At Night's End

by Katherine Matzen

  The soldier opened an unmarked door in a short hallway full of identical doors. The small, featureless room revealed contained a table, two chairs and a tall stool with a back. All of the furniture was functional, but the lines held a simple elegance at odds with the space, which reminded her of a police interrogation room.

  Dani sat in the indicated chair. A shorter, more feminine alien appeared with a pitcher and two matching cups on a beautifully decorated tray. She placed them on the table and shot Dani a shy glance, full of curiosity before the guard herded her out.

  The door closed behind them without a sound. Dani sat alone, trying to make sense of recent events and her place in them. Wish I knew if I was guest or prisoner. She glanced at the door, considering the look from the alien woman. Maybe I joined the freak show? Although, in that case, they would have kept us together.

  She rubbed her leg, which ached from the unaccustomed walking. Not as bad as it should be. She shifted cautiously, realizing none of her old injuries bothered her as much as they had before Lateef had come into her life. Her back hadn’t spasmed on her in weeks. He really had been working on her injuries. Her mood lifted, and anxiety shifted to boredom.

  The silver pitcher on the table caught her eye and she studied it, with her hands clasped behind her back. These people were so extremely touchy about food she didn’t want to assume anything. The gleaming container was beautifully embossed with geometric shapes and the cups reminded her of Japanese tea mugs. Finally, she could not resist touching one of the cups. The surface was warmer than she had expected. It fit her hand as though designed for her and she reveled in the pleasure of the simple joy of seeing beauty.

  A sound at the door broke her out of her reverie and she swiftly replaced the cup, retreating back into her chair. Her face heated at the nearness of being caught. She wished Lateef was with her. She had no idea of what was going on and what she should do to stay out of trouble so they could all get home again in one piece.

  Briefly she wondered how Kyle was handling things. She hoped he would be tactful and curb his temper. Lateef–well, he had already managed to piss this group off somehow. For that matter she hoped she could handle whatever came up correctly.

  The door opened and the tallest, biggest, bald guy she had seen yet entered the room. His muscles had muscles and his round face was set into a permanent sneer. Yet his beautiful, dark eyes shone with a kindness which belied the angry expression. He settled his graceful bulk onto the stool opposite her and placed his hands on the table in front of him, precisely folding one over the other. His plain, dark-blue uniform fit him like a second skin, emphasizing his well-developed musculature.

  “Are you comfortable, Master Chef Hamilton?”

  Dani gaped at him, momentarily unable to process the perfectly understandable words spoken in one of the most beautiful bass voices she had ever heard. His brow lifted in a question and she shook herself out of her daze.

  “Yes.” A blush burned across her face. “I’m fine. Would rather be home, though.”

  “Hopefully you will be returned there soon, but we must learn of your association with the Beryllian.”

  She fought the fascination of his velvety tone, struggling to pay attention to what he was saying. She took a deep breath and concentrated on blocking out the confusion muddling her thoughts. She straightened her shoulders and gave him a level look. No reason to be deferential.

  “Why is anything I do any of your business?”

  “Were you not thirsty?”

  His question threw her off again. She tilted her head and frowned at him.

  “You did not drink any of the offered water.” He indicated the pitcher.

  “I wasn’t sure I was supposed to.”

  “And yet you touched a cup?”

  She buried her face in her hands. “I couldn’t help it.” Her resolution to stay in charge of the conversation crumbled under the accusation. She looked back up. “It was so pretty my fingers itched. I had to get a closer look.” She had subconsciously been aware she was being observed, but had tried to deny it. Glad I didn’t scratch any embarrassing places while I thought I was alone.

  She caught a pleased look in his eyes and relaxed minutely. Apparently, she had passed a test of some sort. Dani attempted to reach for Lateef, hoping for guidance. She expected to feel nothing but a vague reassurance as she had on the shuttle. Instead she felt an empty numbness that rattled her further. She hoped the silence didn’t mean something bad had happened to her new love.

  “Would you like some water to drink?”

  She nodded. Things couldn’t be too bad if this guy was serving her, right?

  He deftly poured, handing the mug to her ceremoniously. She accepted it, cradling the cup in the palm of her hand to admire the craftsmanship.

  “Thank you.” The interior was silvery and the water brought out patterns she hadn’t noticed before. A faint scent tickled her nose and she paused, trying to identify the floral fragrance.

  “What’s wrong?” Dark eyes stared unblinkingly at her.

  “This isn’t plain water, is it?” She met his gaze.

  He shook his head. “No. Obosa is a flavored water offered only to special guests.”

  And what does that mean? I can see special as a bad thing. Dani set her expression to skeptical, yet friendly. “Special guests who were abducted and held against their will?” She was still determined to be polite and non-confrontational, but she wouldn’t play stupid. All the weirdness was reawakening her self-protective instincts, knocking her out of the unfamiliar daze.

  He studied her for a long moment and then filled a cup of his own, holding it up for her inspection before taking a long sip. The challenge was so obvious she had to copy him. The taste was indescribable—perfectly cool, thick and flavorful without being syrupy. Her eyes rolled closed and she took a deep breath, savoring the sensation as a sense of immense well-being spread through her body.

  “That’s incredible.” She breathed as her eyelids fluttered opened. She stared into the cup as if she could figure out exactly what the drink was, then took another small sip, this time prepared for the explosion of taste and beamed at her interrogator.

  “You like the Obosa? Even if it is only given to involuntary captives?”

  Her smile grew rueful. “If you treat captives like this you can’t be too bad.”

  “Your companion does not seem to think so.” His expression sharpened.

  “Which companion?” Her imagination painted all sorts of pictures of Kyle protesting his treatment and being roughed up.

  “The defiler.” His sharp snap conveyed contempt.

  “Lateef?” She was surprised at the intense hatred from the man in front of her. Her body felt light and focusing grew difficult. “He never said anything bad about you guys.”

  “What did he say to you?”

  The heated blush instantly covering her face surprised them both. “Oh, my goodness,” she muttered as scenes from their night of passion flashed through her mind. “I can’t believe this.”

  Judging by the extended silence her captor didn’t believe her either.

  “Before he left, Lateef told me someone might come looking for him and if they did, I should tell them the truth. That’s pretty much the only thing he ever said about you.” She stared at the table, unable to meet his steady gaze.

  “So how did you know about our patrol?”

  “It wasn’t exactly a secret that a group of men were wandering around town.” She couldn’t stop the snarky tone in her response, but she tried to temper it. “They knocked on my door one morning.” The very normal questions allowed her to regain her composure and she looked back up at him.

  “What else did you talk about?”

  “That is none of your business.” She felt the flush creeping across her face again and rose to pace. “I don’t like being put i
n the middle of something I don’t understand.”

  “That was not our doing. You chose to hide and aid our enemy.” His words were angry, but his face held an unexpected defensiveness and maybe guilt?

  She took several steps toward him, one hand tangled in the black pearl necklace she had been fondling unconsciously. “Let’s get something straight. I did not aid your ‘enemy’.” She put air quotes around the word. The need to look up to the seated man sapped some of her anger. “I found someone who was hurt and needed help. And when your men came to my door, I shared my food with them. I didn’t ask for anything in return from any of you.”

  “And when my men returned with guest gifts?”

  She had to look away. “Okay, I did make demands then. Taltos was going to drop off stuff and run away. And that was after he had showed me some of the incredible gifts. So, all I did was tell the truth—the food would be wasted if they didn’t eat. It’s not like I held anyone down and forced them to eat.”

  He stared at her thoughtfully, intense suspicion slowly fading into surprise.

  “It truly is so simple to you?”

  She frowned. “Nothing about this situation is simple. If someone’d told me last week I’d be taking a trip in a flying saucer surrounded by foodies I’d have called for a padded truck– and yet here I am.”

  “What is a foodie?” He stumbled over the unfamiliar word.

  “Someone fascinated by food. The whole trip here was spent talking about food. I’ve never been around so many people who all have a favorite ingredient or technique but are so ridiculously secretive at the same time.” She shook her head and began to pace again. “The way they talk you’d think they were nuclear scientists trying to give you hints about what an atom bomb was and let you know how incredibly intelligent they were without telling you anything useful.”

  He watched as she babbled on, still as a statue except for dark eyes tracking her every move.

  “They all talked about different dishes, but none of them would list ingredients or explain some of the more difficult techniques. And when I asked a question, you would have thought I was asking for some state secret, not what kind of onion they like.”

  “You asked for details about a family recipe?” He went rigid, pinning her with an intense glare.

  “No.” She froze. “Or at least I don’t think so. I asked if he preferred red, white or yellow onions in general.”

  He relaxed again and she leaned against the wall to stare at him. “You didn’t bring me here to talk about food.” Her head was suddenly clear and she felt focused. “And your little drink wasn’t plain, flavored water.”

  His eyes widened briefly in surprise and she knew she was right.

  “You could have just asked me whatever it was you wanted to know.”

  “Would you have told us the truth?”

  She looked up and shook her head, muttering under her breath about the bone-headed stubbornness of men, no matter the species. She dropped into her chair and smacked her hands on the table. “Would you believe anything I did tell you?”

  He studied. “Why did you not answer questions?”

  “No one asked any questions I haven’t answered.” She bit the words off, glaring at the much larger man.

  “None?” he prompted.

  She growled wordlessly. “No. And when everyone finished eating, I packed up the leftovers and they went home.”

  “You were so willing to share food with strangers who unexpectedly appeared at your door? Many of your neighbors commented about the food you provide for their events, even though you do not attend.”

  “You talked to my neighbors about me?” She frowned. “When?”

  “The people with the goats mentioned you allowed a stranger to stay with you and tried to sell our team some cheese. They praised your cooking abilities.”

  “The Saunders ratted me out?” she exclaimed.

  “Were you trying to hide?”

  She slumped in her chair. “Not really. At least not from you. I don’t like attention.”

  He gazed at her thoughtfully, his head tilted as if listening to someone she couldn’t hear.

  “What do you know about the Beryllian?”

  “Depends on your definition of ‘know’.” She muttered under her breath, unable to face her interrogator as memories of bodies moving together heated her skin.

  “What was that?”

  “I don’t know much about him.” She felt absolutely chatty and wondered if the Obosa was like sodium pentothal, lowering her inhibitions and making her say far more than she should. She got to her feet to restlessly pace. “He’s a healer and has several siblings and isn’t from Earth. Oh, and he can barely boil water without setting off the fire alarm.”

  “How do you know he’s a healer?”

  She leaned against the cool metal wall of the small room as she shot the man a glance under her eyelashes. “He saved my life after your little bloodhound scared me half to death.”

  “Explain.” His gaze sharpened and he leaned forward.

  “I was in my shop late one night and saw your feathered creature staring at me. It scared me and I sliced open my arm instead of my soap. Fortunately, Lateef was in the kitchen and managed to stop the bleeding before it was too late.”

  The bare bones of the story still made her heart race.

  “I am sorry our Jangxing frightened you. It did not report the encounter.”

  Dani shrugged and looked away. She was ready to go home. Her energy faded as her head cleared.

  “What of this other man who was with you?”

  She blinked at the subject change. This was so surreal. Maybe she had died that night in her workshop—or maybe she’d never woken up from the car accident. Her breath caught in her chest at the fleeting thought that if she could open her eyes she would see her baby girl again. If only that were possible!

  ‘I’m sorry.’ The thought whispered through her mind, wrapping her in warm, ethereal arms. The presence vanished and she sagged against the wall. Lateef’s brief message meant this whole bizarre situation was real. She blinked rapidly, holding back the tears that threatened to flow down her face before feeling able to answer the question.

  “Kyle Manning is an investigator who was searching for someone.” She shrugged, unwilling to go into any more detail or express her doubts. “I guess he thought I knew more than I did because he spied on me.”

  “So, he did not know the Beryllian?”

  “They met for the first time this morning, right before Taltos arrived and bundled us all up for this little joy ride.”

  “Have you told me the complete truth?” The words seemed formulaic, like some kind of ritual.

  “I haven’t lied to you about anything.”

  “Is there anything else about the Beryllian you wish to disclose?”

  “No. Absolutely nothing I want to talk to you about. Why?”

  “Are you aware of his crimes against the Hatti people?”

  She shook her head. “And unless he’s some kind of serial killer, I don’t want to know.”

  “You do not wish to know what kind of a person you are intimate with?”

  She groaned as embarrassment pulled her out of the black pit of depression she was circling. “Can we stop with the questions about my personal life? Lateef has been nothing but kind to me and everyone I’ve seen him interact with.”

  “And what do you think about us?”

  She opened her mouth and then closed it again, searching for the right words. “I don’t know. I still wonder why you gave me such extravagant gifts.” She absently fingered the pearls. “But everyone I’ve met has been extremely friendly.”

  “So, you count us as friends?”

  She looked directly at him. “I don’t know you well enough to answer yet, but I most definitely wouldn’t put y
ou in the enemy category.”

  “In spite of the fact we brought you to our ship against your will and administered a truth serum?”

  She looked away from him, muttering a few imprecations under her breath. “I can’t say I appreciate any of this,” she finally replied. “Even though there was a lot of gun-waving, Taltos let me take care of my dog. I don’t know what would have happened if we’d resisted, but, well, your crew was unfailingly polite to me. Kyle might have a different story, but I have absolutely no complaints.”

  “And if we detain you for a long period?”

  “Then we’ll have a problem.” Anger burned away the last of her lingering sadness. “I have a business to run and animals to care for. What is this all about?” She pushed to her feet again, pacing with an agitation she had not felt before. “Just because I helped someone, you’re trying to tell me I might be kept captive on some spaceship?” She turned her outraged look on him. “There better be one very good explanation.”

  He watched her expressionlessly as she continued to stalk from one end of the small room to the other.

  “If only I could be assured you are hiding nothing.”

  “What could I possibly be hiding that would be of any interest to someone from another planet?”

  The two locked gazes, neither one giving an inch. Abruptly he came to a decision and rose to his feet. “We shall see,” he said. “Someone will come for you shortly.”

  Before she could object, he was gone. Minutes later another crewmember escorted her to yet another featureless room furnished with a small table, two padded benches complete with a small pillow and blanket, and an obviously inebriated Kyle Manning.

  Chapter Twenty

  “What do you think they’re doing out there?” Kyle’s worried question broke through her mounting anxiety.

  “I’m not sure.” She strained with every sense, including her new psychic one to get some information. From the empty cavern in her belly, hours had passed since the interrogation. Several times through the long day she had felt Lateef’s mental touch, but the contact was always short and full of static—barely enough to reassure her he still lived. But not nearly enough to let her know he was okay.