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Authors: Cyndi Friberg

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BOOK: Zealot
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“I’ll have a security detail take her, or maybe Danvier. You need to stay with Indigo.”

Zilor bristled at the inference that he’d leave Indigo locked in his cabin. “I thought we three could go and Indigo would stay on the
Phantom
while Raina and I—”

“I’d rather you and Indigo help Raylon move Chandar. Vinton Tandori is too unpredictable. I don’t want Indigo anywhere near Boulder. Besides, we need to find out if Chandar is going to cooperate or not. They’re both moving to the Pavilion, so it gives them a non-confrontational reason to interact.”

Begrudgingly, he accepted that Kotto’s plan made sense. “All right.”

“I’ll talk to Danvier and Raina.” He made a rude sound then added, “You can deal with Raylon.”

Zilor stood then paused. “Do you two need to work it out in the training cage? I know Raylon can be abrasive, but you’ve known each other for years.”

Kotto stood as well, his expression thoughtful rather than hostile. “Once my bond with Raina is solidified, I’ll feel less antagonistic. Or so I’ve been told. If not, the training cage is always an option.”

“How are you going to spin this if Vinton Tandori finds his way up here?”

“Simple. You sensed your mate when you visited her store and acted without the knowledge or permission of your supervisors when you bio-streamed her onto your ship.”

“And I’ll explain that Indigo is determined to help Chandar, so marking her was the only way to ensure her safety.” The excuse was clear and believable, if not entirely truthful. “Do you think he’ll buy it?”

Kotto shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. As long as your scent covers Indigo, there’s nothing Tandori can do to change the situation.”

Zilor grinned. “Then I better make sure my mark stays nice and strong.”

“And you better hope Dr. Irron doesn’t run his mouth to your big brother. The head of the Nox family could gain significant political advantages if he were to claim a mate with Tandori blood.”

 

Chapter Five

 

Indigo awoke with a start, heart pounding in her chest. For one frantic moment, she couldn’t remember where she was or how she’d gotten there. Then images from the day before came flooding back into her memory. She was on the
Crusader
, which was docked inside the moon. Raina was up here too, or so Zilor had told her. She’d yet to see her cousin. In fact, she’d yet to see anyone but Zilor since leaving Earth.

She glanced at the pillow beside her and wondered how long Zilor had been gone. Without natural light, it was impossible to estimate the time. She could have slept for a few hours or most of the day. He’d said Raina would be by with fresh clothes and personal items, but Indigo had no idea how long it would take for her cousin to arrive. Hopefully, she could sneak in a shower before the promised visit.

Rummaging through the various compartments inset in the walls, she found a shirt that would cover her to mid-thigh. Or she could wear her jeans again, but the undergarments had to go. She went into the bathroom and found a towel. Stripping off her panties and tank top, she stepped into the shower stall. And her preparations came grinding to a halt. There were no controls of any kind in the shower. That was right, he’d said it was voice activated.

“Shower on.” She looked at the showerhead hopefully, but nothing happened. Apparently, the shower didn’t speak English. “Computer?” It stood to reason that if the shower was voice-activated, the ship’s computer would accept voice commands and she wasn’t the only human on board.

“How can I help you, unidentified female?”

She smiled, but decided not to identify herself. “Can you turn on the shower for me?”

“The showers are voice activated.”

Nothing like stating the obvious. “What’s the verbal command for turning on the water?”

“The showers don’t dispense water. They dispense a mist meant to clean, moisturize and deodorize the user.”

Okay, so this was going to be a bit harder than she’d hoped. “What’s the correct command for activating the shower?”


Hatatzi tallin.

The showerhead sputtered then sprayed a warm, light blue mist. Indigo quickly stepped beneath the spray. It was surprisingly pleasant, even if it made her feel more like a car than a person. As she rubbed the mist over her body, what her skin didn’t absorb evaporated. She soon felt fresh and clean. She wasn’t sure how her hair dye would react to the strange chemical, so she kept her hair out of the spray as much as possible.

“What’s the command for turning off the shower?” Silence. Crap. She must have stumbled onto the launch phrase before. “Computer?”

“Yes, Indigo.”

She narrowed her gaze and looked around, suddenly feeling overexposed. “How did you learn my name?”

“I reviewed the audio files from last night. Zilor seemed to refer to you by name when he said, ‘Ah, Indigo, you smell good enough to eat.’ Was my conclusion incorrect?”

The computer was oblivious to the sexual nature of the exchange, but heat crept across her face. “You got it right. My name is Indigo. Now please say the command that deactivates the shower.”


Wontal tallin
.”

The spray stopped and Indigo stepped out of the shower then shook out the folded towel. “Computer?”

“Yes, Indigo.”

“Are all conversations routinely recorded?”

“Affirmative.”

After rubbing the towel over her skin for a moment, she paused. “What about video images? Is every room on this ship under continual surveillance?”

“Video is recorded in all public areas. Audio only is utilized in private areas.”

She wasn’t sure that was any better. It still felt incredibly invasive. “And who has access to the recordings?”

“Anyone with a level five security clearance.”

“How many people on this ship have a level five security clearance?” She wasn’t sure why this bothered her so badly, but she couldn’t seem to stop the questions.

“Five.”

“Has anyone accessed last night’s recording of this cabin?”

“Only me.”

That was interesting. She quickly dried off, though her body was barely even damp. Had the computer included itself in the total as well? Wasn’t self-awareness one of the criteria for determining whether or not AI was sentient? “Do you have a name?”

“You may refer to me by whatever name you like. My official designation is POS349-273.”

“Of the names crew members call you, which is your favorite?”

“I have no preference.”

“Are any of the names disrespectful?”

“I don’t understand the question.”

Okay, maybe not quite fully aware. With the issue settled, at least in her mind, she focused on her preparations. The shirt had a narrow overlap running down the front, but there were no buttons or obvious fasteners. Seeing no other option, she slipped it on over her head and wiggled her head through the opening. She rolled up the sleeves to just below her elbow then searched through the compartments until she found what she hoped was the Rodyte version of a hairbrush. With four rows of wide-spaced, ridged bristles, the instrument was similar to the vented brush she used when she blow-dried her hair. She paused long enough to brush her teeth, then escaped from the humid enclosure before beginning work on her long, tangled hair.

The main room of the cabin felt cool and comfortable after the steamy bathroom, but it was still rather small. She paced the breadth as she worked the snarls from her thick locks. Four strides took her from one wall to the other, and there wasn’t even a window to break up the monotony. It didn’t take long to detangle her hair, so she bent over and ran the brush along the underside.

She heard the door slide open and flipped back her hair as she straightened. Zilor stepped into the room and froze, his eyes locked on her.

“Hey.” She offered him a tentative smile. “I raided your closet. Hope that’s all right.”

His gaze swept down her body then snapped back to her face. “You look wonderful, but you can’t leave the cabin like that. You’d cause a riot.”

“Am I leaving the cabin?” She finally noticed the garment folded over his arm. “I thought I was waiting for Raina.”

“Raina’s on her way to your house, but you need to visit the infirmary. I thought we’d get that part done while we’re waiting for Raina’s return.”

“Why do I need to visit the infirmary?” Tension knotted her belly at yet another schedule change.

“You need to be inoculated against Rodyte diseases and wiped clean of anything you might spread to the crew.”

“That makes me sound like Typhoid Mary.” Her smile returned, far less hesitant this time. “Aren’t you afraid I’ve contaminated you?”

“Our medi-bots do an incredible job of eradicating pathogens, but it’s always better to prevent rather than treat diseases. Dr. Irron can also install a cluster of com-bots, if you’re willing to trust our tech.”

“I trusted your tech to disassemble and reassemble my body. I’m pretty sure I can deal with a com-bot. Well, as long as ‘com’ is short for communications and not command as in mind control.”

His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. He was being friendly yet distant this morning. “No mind control. I promise. It will allow you to send and receive messages, and speak and understand Rodyte. If you want to be literate in Rodyte as well, that requires a language infusion.”

“Is a language infusion how you learned English?”

He nodded. “It started with an infusion, but I was stationed at Outpost LA for several years.”

“Outpost LA, as in Los Angeles?” She was almost afraid to ask, but her curiosity wouldn’t be silenced. “There’s a Rodyte outpost in Los Angeles?”

“Not in Los Angeles, more like near.” His secretive smile made it obvious he intended to say nothing more on the subject. “Would you like something to eat before we head out?” He motioned toward the food system with his free hand.

She started to question him further, then decided it didn’t matter. She needed to figure out the specifics of her situation before she worried about all the other places Rodytes had infringed on Earth. “Can that thing make toast or a toasted bagel? I love breakfast food, but I prefer eating it around noon. However, I’d kill for a cup of coffee.”

“Bandar is still working on a pattern for coffee. Ashley has rejected every attempt so far. We drink something called
civata
brew, but Ashley wasn’t pleased with that taste either.”

“Ashley is used to froufrou crap that’s more sugar than coffee. I’ll give your brew a try.”

“All right.” He held out his clothing-draped arm and said, “I stopped by Bandar’s cabin and Ashley offered these for you. Why don’t you change while I whip up some breakfast?”

“Were all her jeans dirty?” She chuckled as she took the dress and sandals from him. “Ashley’s not much of a dress person.”

“Females seldom wear pants on Rodymia. It’s considered disrespectful.”

She waited for him to grin, but his expression remained serious, intense. “It’s
disrespectful
for a female to wear pants? Please tell me you’re joking.”

A muscle above his jaw twitched. Was he clenching his teeth? “I know that seems outdated to humans, but it’s still the tradition of my people.”

Did she really want to fight about something as incidental as clothing? There were still places on Earth that frowned on females wearing pants. She was the visitor. It was her responsibility to adhere to their customs. With forced nonchalance, she shrugged. “Who am I to argue with tradition?” He said nothing more, so she turned and headed for the bathroom.

“You smell different. Did you shower?”

His terse words halted her retreat. She looked back at him with dread in her eyes. “Did I wash away your scent? I didn’t even think about that when I indulged the impulse.”

Possessive pleasure ignited his gaze as he shook his head. “Your skin absorbed my scent. It will take more than a shower to get rid of me. I was wondering how you managed to activate the spray.”

It wouldn’t have been a horrible thing if they’d had to return to bed and reestablish the mark. Still, she was glad her bathing habits wouldn’t be compromised by the need for his protection. “I asked the computer for the proper command and the shower just kicked on when the phrase was uttered.”

“Bandar has been working on an English interface, but his efforts have been sort of hit and miss.”

“Well, luckily for me, the main computer understood enough of what I said to make the shower work.”

He just nodded, so she ducked inside the bathroom. She wasn’t sure why he was acting so strangely. He didn’t seem to regret marking her. In fact his expression came alive when he mentioned her skin absorbing his scent. So why did she sense an emotional barrier that hadn’t been there the night before?

Ashley had sent simple sandals and a flowing summer dress. Definitely not Indigo’s usual style, but anything was better than staying cooped up in Zilor’s cabin. The dress had a built-in bra and laces in back that would allow her to personalize the fit. She took off the borrowed shirt and slipped into the dress, then realized she’d need help with the laces.

After pausing long enough to put on the sandals, she returned to the outer room. “Can you adjust the laces for me? Ashley’s built a bit differently than I am.”

Zilor turned from the food system as she reached his side. She presented her back and drew her hair over her shoulder. His fingers brushed across her shoulder then traced the indentation of her spine until it was blocked by the dress. Rather than tightening the laces, he moved one hand to her arm and slid the other back up to the nape of her neck.

“What’s wrong?” she asked when the silence lengthened. “Are you in trouble for bringing me here?”

He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her back against his body. “I marked you so you’d have the freedom needed to treat Chandar, but my body can’t seem to accept that you’re not really mine.”

She tensed even though her body was bombarding her with similar signals. “I’d be willing to be your lover, but I don’t want a mate.”

“I know.” He sighed and released her then tugged on the laces. “You’ve made your position clear from the beginning.”

“Not quite that tight.” She smiled as the material threatened to slit down the front. He made a quick adjustment then his knuckles brushed her back as he tied off the laces. “Thank you.”

“Procedures require that your other potential matches be notified,” he muttered as he turned back toward the food system. “Because there are so many, the list will be prioritized according to personality traits and individual preferences.”

“What’s the point of prioritizing the list if I have no intention of choosing a mate?”

He handed her a mug filled with a steaming beverage. “Hopefully, one of us will be able to change your mind.”

“If you haven’t been able to change my mind, do you honestly believe anyone else will?”

The corners of his mouth twitched as if he was fighting back a smile then his lips pressed into a grim line. “What about Garin? He has power and wealth, not to mention prestige. Do you honestly think you can resist all the general has to offer?”

BOOK: Zealot
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ads

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