Alien, Mine (11 page)

“How in all the levels of hell do you do that?” Shrenkner asked.

Sandrea lifted one shoulder in an offhand shrug. “Humans are quite flexible as a general rule, but to remain agile takes practice. I’m a bit stiff, no doubt because I haven’t done any stretching exercises in”—she pulled in a sharp breath—“let’s not go there, but it won’t take long to regain my former suppleness.”

“I wouldn’t be able to execute any of those positions, practice or not.”

“Perhaps not, Shrenk’, but I bet you could bench press a—” She hesitated, Holden GTS wouldn’t mean a thing to her, “—ATVEH. I couldn’t lift a tire. Each to his own, as my mother says.”

Shrenkner nodded. “Your mother has a lot of sage advice. She must be a woman of wisdom.”

“That she is. I’m starving, Shrenk’. Fancy a trip to the mess?”

“Certainly.”

Shrenkner stood and offered a finger-sized metallic cylinder. Sandrea was almost afraid to ask what she was supposed to do with it.

“This is a communications pod. You will be able to contact any member of Alpha with it.”

Ohh, right. Alpha, my armed escort, forgot about that.

She scrubbed a hand over her forehead. “I’m sorry, Shrenk’.”

“For what?”

“For being the cause of . . .” She compressed her mouth in an apologetic grimace. “I don’t know. I feel like I’ve been the cause of a demotion for you.”

“I received a promotion because of you.”

She waved that aside. “You’d have gotten that without my intervention.”

“Debatable. But we’re straying from the point. Why do you consider my appointment as your guardian a disadvantage to me?”

“Well, you’re a frontline soldier. I can’t imagine nurse-maiding behind the lines is an appealing duty. And what about the rest of the squad?”

Shrenkner’s regard remained steady for a moment. “Kiresel, Ragnon, and Dovzshak were on the asteroid with the Lieutenant and me.”

“So?”

“So it doesn’t matter what they think, they’ll follow orders.”

It matters to me.

“Sandrea, General Mhartak believes your olfactory sense may greatly benefit our cause, if that’s not worth guarding, I don’t know what is.”

Well, when you put it that way, I guess I’d better not catch a cold.

Shrenkner laid a hand on her shoulder. “And I, for one, would gladly protect you simply for what you have already done for us.”

The warmth of offered friendship embraced Sandrea’s heart and she smiled.

“Thanks, Kendril.”

“Only my mother calls me that.”

“Right.” She took the proffered cylinder. “So how do I use this thing?”

“Address the person you wish to communicate with, and when they answer speak as normal.”

She nodded and headed for the door. “Is Alpha on duty now, here on the
En-Da
?”

“Yes, Sergeant Kulluk is—”

The door
whooshed
open to her touch. “Here,” she finished and nodded at him. “Sergeant.”

“Miss Sandrea. You are well?”

“Hungry, but well, thank you.”

His glance flicked over her shoulder and back.

“You are going for food?”

“Yep, care to join us?”

He shook his head. “General Mhartak sends his compliments and requests you join him in his quarters at your convenience.”

Her heart thumped then flooded with heat.

At her convenience? Was that a jest in the light of her playful teasing that he could order anyone about? Or a subtle reminder that she should mind her place? She lowered her eyelids, took a deep breath, and sought for calm.

“Are you still prepared to be our challenger at the Cube tournament?” Kulluk asked.

What?

Her brain caught up and her eyelids rose. “It’s still on?”

“Of course. There’d be rebellion in the ranks if that were cancelled.”

You guys.

“When?”

“Two days after our arrival.”

“Right, well I’ll endeavour not to let you down.”

“Let
us
down,” Kendril said.

“Us?”

“Alpha squad, General Mhartak, and Lieutenant Graegen.”

No pressure then.

“Can I access a terminal somewhere? I’d like to review Cube strategies.”

Kulluk nodded. “The General has a terminal in his quarters.”

“Well then”—she gestured a hand forward—“after you.”

He turned away and she eyed the rifle slung across his back.

“Are you expecting to repel boarders, Sergeant?”

“No,” he threw back over his shoulder, “we’re using medical scanners to ensure everybody is what species they appear. The
En-Da
crew are still undergoing the procedure. This”—his head jerked toward the weapon—“is in case you detect Bluthen on board.”

“You want me to sniff people as we go?” she asked dryly.

“Thank you, no.” He declined the offer in a sedate tone and continued to stride forward.

With Kendril by her side she followed him down several well-lit corridors then up a number decks in a turbo-lift. At the far end of a long corridor Kulluk muttered a curse in a tone so unsavoury she braced for a confrontation and peered around him as they came to a halt. Another Angrigan sergeant came towards them.

“Legonox.”

“Kulluk.”

Legonox’s gaze trawled over her in an offensive examination.

“So this is it.”

She raised a condescending eyebrow. By her side Kendril stiffened.

“I thought Mhartak had more sense.”

Her fists clenched against the restriction of bandages.

Kulluk shoved his face close to the other sergeant’s. Don’t be jealous, Legonox,” he purred, “it’s very unbecoming.”

Legonox’s eyes hardened and narrowed and Sandrea stepped back in haste should Kulluk require swinging room. Kulluk seemed to absorb without effort the glare levelled at him before the other sergeant brushed passed. He would have walked right over her if Kendril hadn’t pulled her out of the way.

She watched the soldier walk away. If she had a paintball gun, she’d shoot him in the back, multiple times. “What a prick.”

“It’s probably my fault,” Kulluk admitted.

Disbelief shot through her. “
You
made him like that?”

“Not entirely. There is a rumour about that you’re General Mhartak’s, ah, . . . pet, and that he ordered me to step aside so you could play at the tournament on Charnos.”

She flicked a sideways glance at him. “Fancy that. Still, he didn’t have to be such an asshole.”

Kulluk shrugged. “Some men can’t help it.” He turned to press the chime on a door emblazoned with four galaxy-like swirls.

Her stomach skittered. The door
whooshed
open to reveal Eugen.

“Thank you, Sergeant, Corporal. Sandrea, please come in.”

The confident smile she tried to pin on her lips trembled a little as she slid between Kendril and Kulluk.

“Thank you for coming,” Eugen said as the door closed and privacy enclosed them. “Please sit down.”

She lowered herself to the plush lounge and waited.

“Can I offer you anything?” he asked.

She pressed her lips together to smother a wry laugh and wondered how well he’d respond to a request for his body and soul. “Thank you, no.”

Eugen wandered off across the room and back. The cabin really wasn’t large enough for pacing, but he was giving it a good shot. Was this about her deplorable behaviour toward him?

Her stomach took a nosedive at the thought of him recanting his friendship. “What can I do for you, Eugen?”

He sighed and turned toward her. “I have another request to make of you.”

Oh.
“Shoot,” she encouraged.

He frowned.

She nearly responded with fire away then realized there was a good chance that would not translate well either. “Ask.”

He hesitated then gestured to the cushion next to her. “May I?”

Definitely, and at your own risk.

“Please be my guest.” Her heart lifted. If he wanted to sit next to her, he couldn’t be too repulsed. Could he? Eugen lowered himself to her side. Her body responded with a predictable rush of heat while her nerves jiggled like a puppy on happy pills.

“Your olfactory system is quite unique to us. I would like your permission for Doctor Drengel to examine the sense. Our aim is to establish if an electronic equivalent can be engineered.”

The width of his shoulders dragged her gaze along their broad length.

“Hmm?” The thrust of hard-packed muscle against his shirt hypnotized her rapt attention. Her mind’s eye saw her hands remove his clothing, her teeth and lips exploring the body beneath . . .

A sound like a growl snapped her back.

“Oh, sorry. Sure, why not?”
Unless . . .
“This examination doesn’t entail surgery does it?”

“No. Nothing invasive, just scans and tests.”

Is that why he’s being so . . . nice?

Disappointment ran a searing blade through her chest.

“I see. Well I can’t see any harm in that.”

“You agree?”

“Yes, Eugen, I agree. When does he want to start?”

Eugen stared at her as though she were a thing of immense value.

Perhaps I don’t repel him . . .

She twisted her bottom lip under her front teeth. She didn’t care they were from different species, didn’t care his skin was different to hers. He was intelligent and supremely male and, no doubt about it, she wanted to get up close and intimate with him. She wanted to discover his likes and dislikes. What food he preferred, what landscape inspired him. She wanted to
know
him. Her gaze dropped to where he cradled her bandaged hands in his lap.

When did that happened?

She took in the strength evident in his thighs and a quiver of liquid heat wrenched across her pelvis. A flock of erotic-winged butterflies stormed through her stomach then jumped in gleeful free-fall down the channel of her sex.

How do you tell an alien you’d really like the opportunity to jump his bones?

“Eugen, do I owe you an apology?”

He blinked. “For what?”

“Well.” A flush of warmth started somewhere around her breasts and fired upwards. “I’ve been rather . . . forward with you a couple, a few, times and, well, I don’t know if you’re just being patient or—”

The doorbell chimed.

Eugen stared at her. The summons from the door rang again. His lips compressed into a hard line then he thrust himself to his feet and strode to the door. Past the bulk of his body, she spied a Magran Lieutenant Commander wearing the insignia of the
En-Da
.

“General,” the tall officer greeted, “you asked to be advised when engineering encountered anomalous technology among the equipment retrieved from Kintista. They have done so.”

“Very well, Commander, thank you.” Eugen dismissed the officer.

He turned back to her and she stood, chaffing her bandaged hands together.

“Well, I’d better let you get to it,” she said.

His eyes searched her face with an impatient, frustrated sweep. “You will use the computer interface here?”

“If you preferred I didn’t . . .”

“Please remain as long as you wish.” He turned to the door then glanced back over his shoulder, his gaze direct. “And, Sandrea, as I have said before, there is absolutely
no
need for you to apologize.”

Chapter 7

A Calculated Risk

The next day, from the deep recess of a lower deck porthole, Sandrea watched their approach to Charnos Space Station. Eugen’s words ran round and round her mind, chasing themselves in a never-ending quest for enlightenment.

Why had she no need to apologize? Because he liked her advances, or because her actions on behalf of the Alliance allowed her more leeway than most?

Fascination and awe momentarily replaced her frustration. Against the backdrop of black space studded with the sparkle of infinite, distant stars, the station glittered like a Christmas tree. Light shone from a multitude of windows in joyous defiance to the cosmic darkness. Docking arms a mile long moored a number of ships. Bulbous, snub-nosed craft that she guessed were freighters or transport ships, others with a sharp, aggressive appearance she tagged as military.

Behind her the rustle of Alpha Squad reminded her of her armed escort. The three privates appeared grim and dangerous. Kendril possessed that same quality as Eugen—though not yet to the same extent—radiating lethal intent, even motionless, like a sharp, smooth blade. Sergeant Kulluk was . . . Kulluk.

The docking complete signal rang through the ship and she crawled from the alcove, collected her duffle, and followed the squad to her quarters on board the space station. Despite her best efforts to peer around in interest, the soldiers refused to halt or deviate from their path.

The next morning, Sandrea could not suppress a smile as Kulluk, with a convincingly petulant facial expression, escorted her to medical. She wasn’t sure what her role in this whole ‘Cube charade’ entailed, but was fairly certain appearing intelligent wasn’t it.

Kulluk kept their pace slow. She presumed in order for as many Cube contenders and gamblers to get a good look at her. By the time they reached the medical centre, mental exhaustion from sustaining the act of airhead just about had her on her knees. She collapsed with exaggerated exhaustion onto an examination trolley as Drengel hurried over, concern written on his face.

“What is the matter?” he demanded.

“You tell him,” she grumbled at Kulluk. The sergeant remained mute so she dragged herself upright.

“Nothing’s wrong, Doc. I’ve come to get the gel wraps off.”

Drengel cast Kulluk a reproving glare and led her away with a protective arm around her shoulders. He ran a scanner over her arms, pronounced himself satisfied, and gestured to an assistant. “Now, what else can I do for you?”

“I’m glad you asked. I’ve a personal hygiene matter that I’m sure will raise its ugly head any day now.”

“Ovulation?”

Her eyebrows flickered in mild surprise. “Yes.”

He nodded. “We are oviparous. Our eggs are laid and the young emerge outside the body, but some of our allies are viviparous. They bear live young that have developed inside their body, so we are aware of their needs. Anything else?”

“A matter of vanity. Hair removal.”

He smiled. “An easy procedure if you would like it permanent. Otherwise we can offer you a gel.”

“Permanent! Please. I don’t suppose you run to deodorant and moisturizer?”

She held her arms out while the wraps were disposed of, then smiled her thanks at the Legolopanth nurse. Drengel made a visual observation of her arms then ordered her to flex her fingers and bend her elbows.

“Excellent,” he said.

“Thank you, Doctor.”

“You are most welcome. Now, this way and we’ll see to your other needs.”

An hour later, permanently de-haired in selected places, she deposited a bounty of personal goodies with merry panache in Kulluk’s arms. She thanked Drengel for his time and consideration and led the sergeant back out into the station mainstream.

The return journey to her quarters became fraught with the almost impossible task of maintaining a straight face. Kulluk, with a priceless scowl, carried an armload of obviously feminine items past groups of male personnel. She enjoyed running up to shop windows and exclaiming at their wares in an ingenuous voice. An elegant red gown in a shop window snagged her attention.

Beside her, Kulluk glared at the dress. The glass reflected a few soldiers from other companies watching them. She leaned up and whispered in his ear. “We’ve an audience.”

His jaw clenched, he glared down at her, then marched into the shop. A few minutes later the gown was removed from the window. She simpered at him as they left the store and linked her arm through his.

“Isn’t this fun, Sergeant?” she cooed.

Not before time they made it back to her quarters.

“I wouldn’t require Drengel’s attention any time soon, Sergeant,” she warned as she relieved him of her treasures. “He thinks you’ve been cruel and inhuman to me. I pointed out that you couldn’t be human and he muttered, ‘You know what I mean’ and accused me of covering for you. And thank you for the gown.” She reached up and kissed his cheek. “Make sure you take what I owe you from my winnings. Let’s think positively about this. I know it helped our cause. Everybody watching no doubt thought it was bought with the General’s say so but I appreciate the gesture nonetheless. God I’m glad the tournament’s tomorrow.” She flopped into a chair. “I can’t keep this up.”

Kulluk had been tempted to fess up about his reasoning behind the dress purchase when Sandrea seemed to think he’d bought it for her, but found he enjoyed the idea of her presumption of gallantry. Then she’d shown she was well aware of just what was going on. Now he stared at her and realized her act had been so compelling he’d slipped into believing it.

If she were this accomplished at Cube he’d willingly buy her any piece of clothing she ever wanted.

An atypical bout of nerves woke Sandrea early next morning and she decided a run would help restore her calm. Kendril growled a complaint then threw something hard in her direction when asked if she was up for the exercise.

Guess that’s a no.

She emerged from the cabin to Ragnon’s cheerful greeting and his inquiry if she was ready for the day.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” she replied and set off at a brisk warm-up walk.

Back at her quarters an hour later, Kendril waited with food. “Go and get something to eat, Private,” she ordered. “I’ll see Sandrea gets to the game room safely.”

Sandrea made a quick shower, ate her meal, and dressed. As she pulled on a stretch shirt she considered visiting a lingerie shop in hopes they might sell anything remotely resembling a bra. She dragged on a pair of trousers. “Ready, Shrenk’?”

On the way to the lifts, she intercepted a number of assessing stares and kept her face as vacant as possible, letting them wonder just how much truth was in the rumours flying about regarding her participation in Kendril’s defence of Kintista.

They halted before the elevators and a moment later the doors opened to reveal Kulluk and the three privates of Alpha packed into the small cubicle.

“Does the
entire
squad have to be armed, Sergeant?”

Kulluk grinned at her like a shark that has found an unexpected kinship with a minnow and took a step back to make room. She nodded to the others and squeezed in front of him. Something hard pressed into her back.

“So, Sergeant”—she rubbed a hand into the tension tightening her neck muscles—“is that a gun in my back, or are you just pleased to see me?”

Appreciative snickers echoed in the confined space.

“It’s a gun,” Kulluk confirmed, radiating weary patience.

“Have you been practicing your resigned, disgusted, and disapproving scowl?”

“He doesn’t need practice,” Kendril said.

“Thank you, Corporal,” Kulluk responded.

Sandrea experimented with a coquettish giggle.

“What the
hell
was
that
?” Kulluk demanded.

A success, if the revulsion in your tone is anything to go by.

She cast a glance over her shoulder. “Did it make you feel sick with disgust?”

“Yes!” came several fervent replies.

“Excellent. I shall use it in our campaign of misdirection.”

Kulluk bared his teeth in a killer grin. “We’re going to win a fortune.”

The elevator smoothed to a halt and the doors slid open. The echoing hubbub of several hundred voices speaking at once hammered Sandrea’s ears as she walked out into a huge room. Long metal tables stretched in rows though she could hardly see them due to the hundreds of uniformed Angrigans, Legolopanths, and Magrans. Some played Cube, while others watched or spoke in groups. Before she could do more than glimpse that, the squad closed around and herded her in some direction.

“Sit here,” Kulluk ordered with brusque impatience.

Okay. Game on.

She perched on a metal chair as though it were unclean and schooled her face into fastidious pretentiousness.

“General,” Kulluk acknowledged, and her head snapped around.

She sprang from the chair to face Eugen. Would he mind if she played up to him? She laid a hand on his chest and the warmth of hard muscle beneath his tunic diverted her attention for a moment. Then she batted her eyelids at him and wondered what he made of that, let alone the soldiers who watched.

Eugen bent close. “I believe there is a scam in progress?”

A spray of delicious sensation sparkled over her ear and down her neck where his breath caressed her skin. She accompanied a vigorous nod with a giggle. Her peripheral vision caught the wincing of several nearby soldiers. To his credit Eugen did not flinch.

“Then I believe I shall go and fleece some generals,” he murmured.

She turned her head, gazed at him with unaffected full-on adoration then smiled as though he had suggested something she thoroughly approved of. As, in fact, he had. Eugen straightened, sent a stern nod to Kulluk and left.

She tormented Kulluk with a coy, sweet smile. He scowled down at her.

“When do we start, Sergeant?” she gurgled at him.

“Now,” a new voice brimming with contemptuous irritation stated.

She turned to an Angrigan corporal seating himself at the table and waiting with impatience for her to do the same. She glanced at Kulluk. He nodded once and she sat.

Kendril leaned in to whisper, “The bets for this game are placed.”

Sandrea pinned a vacuous smile to her face while the 3-D virtual display synthesized before her. Her opponent disregarded her every move, seemingly secure in the knowledge of her less-than-stellar IQ. She allowed him his mistaken belief, then at the last possible moment dithered over a move, fumbled her piece, and gasped as it dropped to the board. Pieces scattered and tumbled. Several minor cubes in her colours formed then amalgamated. Her opponent glared at her with angry, frustrated defeat.

She forced surprise across her face, widened her eyes to the limit, and turned to Kulluk.

“Did I
win
, Sergeant?” She was rather proud of the amount of nauseating sweetness she pushed to her voice.

“Yes,” he growled.

“Oh goody.” She clapped her hands together. “What fun! Now what do we do, Sergeant?”

Kulluk’s expression of bilious revulsion appeared so real she wondered how much of it was feigned.

“Now we wait.”

Kendril walked away, and she sat still for maybe a minute.

“I’m bored,” she whined. “Aren’t they ready yet? Can’t we do something else?”

Anyone standing near the sergeant would have been able to hear his teeth grind. She pressed her lips together and tamed a laugh. Kendril returned, stood beside Kulluk, and avoided eye contact with her.

“What’s happening, Sergeant? I want a drink.” An inspiration struck. “I don’t want to play anymore, Sergeant.”

Crikey, go easy on the teeth, Kulluk.

“Sure you do.” Kendril stepped up to the role of cajoler and knelt before her. “It’ll be fun. I’m sure it won’t be much longer and then you can go shopping again.”

“Really?” She rounded her eyes. “’Cause I
really
liked the things I got yesterday.”

Kendril turned her face into her shoulder, but Sandrea saw the grin her friend attempted to hide.

When her repertoire of inane topics and whining was fast approaching the bottom of the barrel, she leaned forward and whispered, “I can’t keep this up much longer, Shrenk’.”

Kendril nodded, then grabbed her hand and hauled her out of the chair with a good show of brusque impatience before dragging her away. Kulluk found them an hour later hiding in a back room.

He led Sandrea to another table where the contestant waited. This time when the game began she mirrored her opponent’s actions as though she were incapable of formulating her own strategy. She made a few reckless moves to cement her supposed reputation and then balanced a cube on the apex of a pyramid. Kulluk drew a harsh breath and she flicked her gaze up to him. Concern sleeted across his features and she wasn’t sure if it were pretence or if he’d lost faith in her.

She expanded on his apparent disquiet by biting her lower lip and hoped the soldiers watching would interpret it as doubt. By his subsequent actions her opponent indicated he thought her move an unstable pairing liable to collapse and take everything near it down and stayed well clear. Oh, it wobbled a bit, sure, but the internal balance was very good.

With a worried air as though she, too, expected her structure to come crashing down at any moment, she built a cube spanning an entire level. As she put the last pyramid into place and locked the cube her opponent still hadn’t realized the game was hers.

Just as the knowledge dawned in his disbelieving eyes, she let loose an outrageous giggle and plastered a dramatic hand to her forehead.

“Goodness me! That was exciting!”