Alien Hostage (41 page)

With a fond smile for the memory of her brave parent, she slipped the palm-sized object in the wide pocket of her pants that hung loose around her thighs. With the hem of the blouse untucked, the flat, rectangular-shaped frequency disrupter was barely noticeable.

A pair of sturdy ankle boots completed her outfit. She was as ready for the next step in reclaiming her life as she was going to get. Narpok pulled the furniture from in front of the suite’s door, opened it, and peeked out. There was no sound from within the house. The staff had not yet arrived for the day.

Narpok left the sprawling dwelling without running into anyone. Seeing Sitrel leaving early, she’d changed her plans on the fly. She hurried inland, eager to be as far away from the beach house as possible before the staff showed up. Fortunately, the sandy drifts that had blew in from the windy beach soon gave way to packed soil, and her aching calves rejoiced in not having to slog through the dunes. Scrub dotted the landscape beneath the lightening sky up to the tree line that took over half a mile from Maf’s vacation home.

Narpok thought the trees closest to the beach resembled Maf. The fierce ocean winds had warped them, making them strangely twisted. Their branches reached away from the sea, as if trying to flee the brutal elements. The tops of them had few leaves, their attempts to grow foliage snatched away to leave the limbs like skeletal fingers.

While the day before had been hot, the cool of night persisted for now. Narpok shivered in her cropped pants and short-sleeved shirt as she trudged through the woods. The shade seemed to have trapped the night’s chill, leaving chills bumps on her skin.

After a few minutes, she chanced upon the bare suggestion of a path between the thickening trees. It wound through the woods, curving in a winding, serpentine trail. The windswept trees gave over to upright, fully leafed versions, more of them crowding what was now a forest. Sometimes the leafy canopy was so thick that little light made it down where she walked. Fortunately, the path became more clearly defined as she went. Narpok did her best to keep her senses about her. She thought she was still moving in roughly the same direction that Sitrel’s shuttle had headed.

It turned out to be a long walk. Having watched her cousin’s shuttle disappear in the distance, that didn’t surprise Narpok. However, she had not realized the toll it would take on her. She was forced to pause half a dozen times to rest. The weakness of her body following her long convalescence made her muscles burn. At least the exertion had driven the chill from her body.

She thought she had been walking more than an hour when she heard voices in the distance. She came to a place where two more paths joined the one she traveled. After another quarter of a mile, the trees began to thin. The voices came clearer.

Another few steps and she saw the wooded area ended at a clearing. She crept closer, wondering if there were any detection devices guarding whatever the place was. It might be nothing of note, a place she could walk into bold as brass with no questions asked. There had been a trail leading right to the clearing, after all. Since she was looking for proof that Maf was the Basma, she thought it best to spy first and announce herself later.

Nearer to the clearing and voices, she finally got a clear view of Sitrel’s shuttle, along with a smaller one next to it. A surge of triumph canceled some of the fatigue she felt from her long walk and the dread of knowing she would have to make the return journey as well.

She frowned at the sight of containment poles on the other side of the shuttles. She thought they were military grade, the kind of barrier meant to keep prisoners of war in temporary confinement. Or maybe government level, as used in real prison camps? Was this perhaps where the little princess was being kept?

She skirted around the area through the trees, hoping to get a better view of who might be held prisoner in such an out-of-the-way place. The shuttles fell behind, but she still saw nothing but more containment poles. She was off the path now, wincing as branches from the underbrush snagged against her bare shins and calves. The sound of voices grew louder.

A temporary shelter came into view, huddled in the middle of the containment which she could finally see through a break in the trees. When a Nobek in a ground troop uniform and armed with a blaster stalked alongside the containment area, Narpok crouched close to the ground to avoid being seen. Unfortunately, that put her gaze below sight level. All she could see were the bushes between her and the clearing.

At least the cropped pants covered her knees. She crawled forward, keeping as low as she could. Her hands seemed to find every twig and pebble capable of scratching them as she went. She scowled and kept going.

A part of her said she was being stupid. She should go back to Maf’s beach house, com the twisted bastard, and ask him flat out if he was the Basma. Or better yet, she should return to her safe, sheltered hospital where she got to talk with the kind Dr. Govi and sit in the cliff-top gardens. She’d always been a pampered, indulged girl. Who was she kidding, thinking she could charm her way into the Basma’s inner circle? That he might take her seriously as a member of his revolution?

She found a small break in the foliage, one through which she got a clear view of the clearing and containment area. She halted and gaped at what she saw.

Within the packed-dirt yard of the containment were filthy, thin Earther women wearing rags that could no longer be qualified as clothing. Their gaunt faces were drawn beneath matted snarls of hair, the eyes as lifeless as those of a doll’s. Some picked unidentifiable bits from a hollowed-out log, bits they pushed into their mouths and swallowed. Narpok thought they looked bruised, but it was hard to tell from all the dirt that coated them. She’d never seen a more wretched bunch. Some wandered into the shelter, a few more wandered out. How many of them were there?

Voices approached, getting louder. Narpok ducked down, her chin touching the ground, her nose almost there too. She rolled her eyes up to watch as Sitrel and an armed Nobek soldier walked between her and the compound.

Sitrel’s tone was smug. “Don’t worry. Once the real combat starts, the Basma will send the order to close this place down. You will get your chance to fight.”

The soldier tossed a look at the broken Earthers. “I don’t suppose I can keep any of these to play with, huh?”

“We are fighting for a pure Empire. Enjoy them for now, but dispose of them as soon as word comes. They don’t look like they’ll last much longer anyway.” His chuckle was the coldest thing Narpok had heard since coming to her senses.

Sitrel wasn’t as toady as she’d thought if he could take pleasure in the impending deaths of such demolished creatures. His sneer as he looked at the women had no pity for their condition whatsoever.

He turned back to the Nobek and scowled at nothing in particular. “Once I finish my business here and return to Kalquor, it will begin. The trade to get the princess back from Falinset will happen today. If not, we’ll forcibly take her back tomorrow.”

Narpok’s heart nearly stopped. She’d been right about the hair. It did belong to Princess Noelle, and Clan Falinset had her!

Sitrel continued to talk. “Using the hybrid abomination to distract the Empire, we’ll have our forces in place before the ground forces and fleet know what’s coming. The war for the fate of Kalquor is a week away at the most. Our leader has almost everything prepared.”

The Nobek grinned, his sharp face greedy at the thought of battle. “I look forward to it. I live to serve the Basma.”

They wandered on, their conversation fading away. That was fine with Narpok. She’d seen and heard enough.

She picked her careful way back to the path. She was still exhausted and had to rest several times again on her way back to the beach house, but what she’d come across seemed to lend her energy. She made better time on the return. The sun was hanging a quarter of the way up in the sky by the time she reached the area of twisted trees.

She plotted her next move as she went. First and foremost, she needed some stim tabs. Her body didn’t want to keep moving, but there was much to get done. She could spare enough time to catch her breath, but that was all.

Her legs cramped as if to protest her disinterest in giving her body a respite. She snorted at the weakness.
I can rest when I’m dead
, she thought grimly. She’d once heard Empress Jessica sigh those words. Destiny waited on no one, least of all weak-minded Mataras who crumbled at the first sign of trouble. Narpok refused to be that woman again.

She reached the first of the long dunes and paused before tackling the soft, traction-defying sand, the last hurdle before reaching the beach house. One dune at a time, she negotiated with her trembling body. There were three she had to traverse, and this one was the tallest. Once over it, the rest would be easy, she lied to herself.

As she silently coaxed herself to climb the dune, a snide voice spoke behind her. “Did you enjoy your tour of the Earther camp, Matara Narpok?”

She whirled around to find Nobek Ket behind her, his smile a sneer on his handsome but vicious face. The trembling that had almost departed her legs came back in full force.

Damn the Nobeks and their silent way of sneaking up on people! Of all the breeds, she despised Ket’s most of all.

She drew herself up, assuming the haughty demeanor she was known for. She stiffened her spine, pretending she had nothing to fear from the brute before her. Pretending she wasn’t in a lot of trouble. Pretending she wasn't experiencing a vision of being locked in the Basma’s compound with the Earther women, waiting to be raped and killed alongside them.

She looked Ket up and down, as if to evaluate him. She’d figured out the day before that the man had an inflated impression of himself. Looking him over seemed the best way to disarm someone like him, and she was pleased to see her examination worked.

He puffed his chest and clenched his fists to make the muscles of his arms stand out more. He was so obvious in his attempt to impress her. After crawling about on the forest floor and exhausting herself getting to Maf’s secret camp and back, Narpok couldn’t imagine why he’d want to do such a thing. She’d not been the height of fashion in her crop pants and casual blouse to begin with; by now she had to be an absolute disaster. She gave him attitude just the same. It was that or give in to the urge to laugh at him showing off.

In a tone that suggested a little interest she said, “My tour? Well, I suppose the scenery might be improving right now.” Let the preening bastard think she liked his looks.

She’d been caught spying, so she decided to act like she’d had every right to do so. “Are you in charge of the abducted Earther women? The Basma trusts you with that responsibility?”

As she thought he would, Ket was all too ready to brag on himself. He didn’t try for one second to pretend the camp didn’t belong to the Basma, nor that he worked for the rebel leader. “I am one of his most loyal followers. In fact, I would be his right hand man if Sitrel hadn’t gotten there first.”

Not likely, Narpok thought. From what she’d seen, Ket was a hothead and dumb as a bag of rocks. Plus he smelled of liquor. She pretended to be impressed anyway … as well as avaricious. “Really? How are you rewarded for such loyalty?”

He shrugged with fake modesty. “Oh, with expensive gifts. The Basma is generous to his leaders.”

Narpok filled her tone with greed. “Gifts? Like what?”

“I have one of those mini-shuttles, the new ones that are space worthy.”

That must have been the little insect of a vehicle parked next to Sitrel’s at the compound. He was proud of that? Narpok sniffed. “Mini-shuttle? I like the luxury shuttles with a sleeping room and bath facilities. You know, the kind you can go for an extended
pleasure
voyage in.”

The way she enunciated ‘pleasure’ was on purpose. The thought of such activities made her stomach turn, however, particularly in connection with Ket.
I’d just as soon bed a Tragoom,
she thought, swallowing a sudden rush of nausea.

“It’s a wonderful little vehicle,” Ket assured her. “For short hops between Kalquor and Lobam, you can’t beat those little zappers for speed. I have one of the first ones manufactured. You should let me take you for a ride so you can see how fast it goes. Only military fighters can catch it.”

“Well, I suppose that’s nice for you.” She looked away, giving the impression she was growing bored with the conversation. Her attitude pushed Ket to pile on the glamour he perceived surrounded his relationship with the Basma.

“My ship is also one of the few that can leave the moon without being challenged. Everyone else on Lobam has to be confirmed loyal to the Basma or they can’t leave. But I can. I have full freedom to come and go as I please.”

She swung in the direction of interest again, not wanting to discourage him too much. “I guess you are an important man to Dramok Maf then. He doesn’t trust lightly, does he?”

“Only a very few of us,” Ket confirmed. “I should think he would know who is most loyal.”

Once again, someone admitted that Maf was indeed the Basma. Even though Narpok’s heart drummed to hear him admit it, Ket’s mood was taking a dark turn. He looked ill-tempered all of the sudden.

With gentle concern Narpok asked, “What? Has he said something to make you doubt your status with him?”

Ket considered her a moment before shaking his head. “It’s nothing he’s said. It’s just he should have sent you to me instead of Falinset. You should be my Matara.”

Her stomach churned queasily again. Hoping she hadn’t turned as green as she felt, Narpok asked, “Are you clanned?”

“No, but that won’t matter in the future Kalquor. Why bother with clans when we’re as good as extinct already?” He suddenly smiled at her, giving off a dash of charm. It would have gone nicely with his good looks if he hadn’t shown his true colors already.

Narpok smiled back, pretending to find his comments deserving attention. “I can see your point. If Dramok Maf’s cause succeeds, many of the old, outdated ways will be done away with. But we only met yesterday, Nobek. How can you be sure we’re compatible?”

Ket sniffed. “I don’t care that you can’t have my children. There aren’t any women left who can anyway. Besides, I would make you a good clanmate. Not to brag, but I’ve been told I’m a good looking man.”

Please don’t let me gag
, Narpok thought, hoping the ancestors could hear her thoughts. To Ket she said, “So you are. And a good provider? When my councilman father lived, I was used to a certain lifestyle, you know.”

“Maf will see to our prosperity. Haven’t you heard what I’ve said about how he esteems me?” Ket barked a laugh. “In all ways, I am better than Falinset and his pathetic pair of fools.”

“But Falinset is Maf’s son. The Basma’s son,” Narpok pointed out.

Ket glowered again. “He rejects his father at every turn. That he didn’t offer you an immediate clanship yesterday is another proof of his unworthiness. Believe me, Maf is furious about it.”

“Ah, so it wasn’t my lack of charm that prevented Falinset from making me his clan Matara?”

Ket waved his hand dismissively. “Of course not. You could be beautiful again once you finish recovering from going insane. Someone a man would be proud to call his. More importantly, you are pure Kalquorian.” He shook his head, as if dumbfounded by Falinset’s actions. “He is being his usual whiny self. He doesn’t deserve you.”

“And you do?” She pretended his comment that she might be worth being proud of in the future didn’t sting.

Ket chuckled knowingly. “You would like me to prove myself, wouldn’t you? You are perfection even as you are now, Matara Narpok. So much better than those small, pathetic little Earthers. A real woman.”

His hand lifted to let his fingers trail through her hair. Narpok managed not to shy back or slap his hand away. Barely.

Ket moved close to murmur in an intimate voice. “I’d be glad to prove my worth to you. In many ways.” His hand moved down her back, curving over her ass with an air of propriety.

Terror burst through Narpok, but she maintained her composure. He would not do anything to her, not while Maf still hoped Falinset might want her. He wouldn’t dare.

With only that to shore her crumbling courage, Narpok said, “First, you’ll have to convince Dramok Maf you rate me. He has expectations of me charming Clan Falinset, which I must try to fulfill. At least, until you change his mind.”

Ket’s eyes lit up. He gave her buttocks a squeeze. “You won’t try too hard to win them, will you my girl?”

Seeing not him but the leering faces from her past, Narpok somehow dredged up a smile that promised everything and nothing. She pulled away, getting space between them so Ket couldn’t touch her anymore. She began to back up the dune, feeling the sand slipping away beneath her feet but making her ascent nonetheless.

She sounded breathless, but maybe he’d attribute it to rising passion and not horror. “I will see you later, Nobek Ket.”

He smirked, but he let her go. “Yes, you will.”

Narpok turned. She managed to not run up the slippery dune, though her yammering thoughts demanded it of her weary body. She gained the summit and kept going. Ket did not insist on escorting her, an immeasurable relief.

At the bottom of the first dune, with no sign of Ket following her, she stopped to catch her breath. Little by little, her heart stopped its relentless hammering, as if it would fly from her to escape her unwanted suitor. After five minutes, she thought she was ready to attempt the second, shortest dune.

With the awful Nobek gone, Narpok was able to consider her next move. Before she’d seen Sitrel leave this morning, spurring her to follow him, she’d planned to try to investigate Clan Falinset’s home. Knowing she’d not been foolish to think Princess Noelle was there after all, she was more determined than ever to snoop.

Before that however, she had to get to some stim tabs before she collapsed. Not only that, she thought it would be wise to pick up a few things that might come in handy.

Chapter 23

Narpok no sooner entered the beach house when a staff member rushed to her. The Dramok servant poured out question after question to do with what she wanted for breakfast, what she required for her bath, what gown would she like to change into, along with suggested answers to his questions. He seemed determined to not give her a moment to answer any of them before moving on to the next. Shaking with exhaustion, still recovering from her encounter with Ket, Narpok reverted to old habits. She screamed at the staff member.

“Stop badgering me, you everlasting fool! What is wrong with you, jumping out at me and jabbering like a brainless dril? Shut up and let me think!”

The Dramok drew back, his face registering shock at her lack of manners. Narpok gulped air as she tried to steady herself.

After a moment, during which she kept her eyes closed and willed her pounding heart to calm, she opened her eyes to find the silent Dramok waiting. His previously fawning demeanor had closed down, making him cold.

Narpok found a placating smile in her arsenal, though she doubted it would do any good at that point. “Mother of All, Dramok, take a breath between questions so I might answer one or two. I appreciate your enthusiasm to see to my needs, but you have to give me the chance to tell you what they are.”

“Yes, Matara.” His tone was even, with no inflection whatsoever. She’d offended him all right. Oh well.

“Good. I would like something to eat. The swala eggs with gusasp sounds good, along with the mixed vegetable and fruit juice you mentioned. What I want right away though is two stim tabs, as quickly as you can lay your hands on them. I’ll take it all in my suite. I don’t require anyone to sort out my bath as I’ll be going out again after I eat. Thank you.”

Leaving the stone-faced servant bowing in the corridor, Narpok went to the master suite. She entered the sitting room and collapsed on the lounger. She thought she might faint.

Less than a minute later, an Imdiko asked for entrance. He brought Narpok the stim tabs she was desperate for, along with the juice. She swallowed all of it as fast as she could.

“More juice with your breakfast, Matara?” the servant asked cautiously. Apparently the Dramok had warned him about the bitch they waited on.

Narpok sighed. “Yes, thank you, Imdiko. I would appreciate that very much.”

He bowed and hurried out.

Narpok stood up and paced. The juice had refreshed her, and the stim tabs had kicked in almost immediately. She felt much better already, though the muscles in her legs twitched uncontrollably. She knew she should be taking it easy while she could, but she was too excited to follow her own excellent advice.

The Imdiko came back with her breakfast. He hesitantly offered to find her a change of clothes, but she demurred. “Thank you, but I’d like some privacy for now. I’ll call if I need anything. What was your name again?”

He left the suite, his slight smile telling Narpok she’d redeemed herself with at least one member of the servants. She was pleased about that. Who knew if she might need someone friendly to her within Maf’s home?

She ate hurriedly, eager to get moving now that she had energy again. Once that was done, she went to the sleeping room to consider the piles of clothes.

She needed something appropriate in case she was seen going to Falinset’s home. A plan had begun to form in her head. All indications seemed to point to Maf being upset with his son for not cooperating with the immediate exchange of the princess for a clan Matara. Ket and Sitrel both said Maf had reached his limit where that was concerned.

Narpok sensed an opportunity she could capitalize on. As she went over everything she knew of the situation, she felt sure this was the moment she’d been waiting for.

Retribution would be hers. If she was the one to get her hands on the princess, the debts that had piled up would be paid.

She traded the ugly pants for a light skirt and a more stylish blouse, just the thing anyone who saw her heading to Clan Falinset’s home might expect her to wear. The jacket she added to the ensemble was too heavy for the climbing heat of the day, but it had big pockets. She filled them with the things she believed would come in useful:  the frequency disruptor, a medical injector, an engine bypass starter…

A weapon would have been nice, she thought. She regretted not having at least a blade to take with her. Snagging a knife or laser cutter from the kitchen would set the servants to talking, particularly the Dramok she’d offended. There was no help for it though. She’d have to rely on her wits.

Her legs still ached, but she felt good otherwise. Wishing for Ket’s little insect shuttle – really, why was he so proud of that ridiculous-looking thing? – she set off for Clan Falinset’s home.

Twenty minutes later, it was in sight. Narpok spied an armed Nobek soldier patrolling the grounds. He halted, staring at her as she made her way to the house that was less than half the size of Maf’s. Narpok ignored him and kept walking as if she had every right to go there. She did have Maf’s blessing to seduce his son’s clan, after all.

She was not challenged. Soon Narpok was at Clan Falinset’s front door, standing on the low rise that served as a porch. The place gleamed white in the sun, now halfway up in the sky.

Narpok tossed her head and combed her fingers through her tresses, as if primping. Actually she shook her hair out so that she could steal a look around, making sure no one was watching her too closely. No one seemed to be around, but she was sure she was under surveillance just the same.

She fussed with her skirt as she had the night before, again obsessed with her appearance. This time instead of hiding a hair in her pocket, she brought the frequency disruptor out. Keeping it hidden as best she could in the folds of her skirt and pretending to trigger the door announce, she pressed a button.

The door hissed open. Narpok entered the home, relishing the cooler air of the entryway and the light, pleasant scent of someone’s cologne. The door shut behind her.

She stood there for a moment, listening for sounds. She heard voices further in the house and her hands clenched with sudden excitement.

A child’s sweet trill rang down the hall. “Jump! Everyone, jump the hurdle!” A woman’s husky laugh followed the happy command. Narpok heard no other voices.

She’d found Noelle. Flushed with the coming triumph, Narpok crept down the corridor, following the continued sounds of woman and child.

* * * *

Wekniz smiled to himself, listening to Noelle’s shrieks of laughter. He was glad the growing tension among the adults had little effect on her.

He focused his attention on the tools he showed his clanmates, items that might help them overcome Sitrel – and any guards he might bring along – in their bid to get off Lobam. He picked up a blunt ram. It was basically a weighty metal cylinder with grips, used to smash open doors in order to get into a burning building. The entry tool would crack a man’s ribs if it came to close-quarter fighting.

He told Falinset and Nur, “I’d rather we try to take our enemies out without having to get close enough to fight with this or blades.”

“A good swing with that would cave a man’s head in,” Nur observed, wincing as he spoke. The Imdiko was not averse to fighting, but he wasn’t comfortable with bloodshed either.