Dana Cartwright Mission 3: Kal-King (9 page)

He slid aside and removed his hand from her neck, but coaxed her to rest, nestled in his arms. It took long minutes before she could relax after the encounter.
 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, truly apologetic. “I could feel your thoughts.”

He nodded and kissed her hair.

“I would know your…your secrets.”

That’s what it means to be one…
he reminded telepathically.

She protested, “You’re an intelligence officer…I would know it all.”

“As my mate, you would become an officer, too.” He grinned, “You do need a job.”

She frowned. “I…oh, Kieran, don’t tempt me now. I’m too…”

“Fragile?” He shut his eyes and sighed. “My love could help you heal. My strength would fill you. Together, Dana,” he caressed her cheek, “the possibilities are endless.”

She clutched his right hand, pressing the palm flat against her cheek. “We came very close, just now.”
 

He opened his eyes, admitting, “I love you. There is no one else, but you are not Alphan. For you, it is not forever. For me, my life force would be linked to you — and only you — until I die. I could never touch another — ever.”

She saw in his eyes the level of commitment and devotion. He was ready to trade it all — even his career — for this unbreakable bond. The temptation was overwhelming. “I have no one but you,” she whispered as he kissed her lips.
 

Then say, yes.

She wavered.

Let me show you another glimpse
.
 

He touched her gently, allowing his memories to flow. They flashed through her mind like one continuous stream, rushing through her, becoming hers, until an image of Janz Macao flashed before her mind’s eye and she screamed so loudly and with such horror that he instinctively withdrew, breaking the mental energy flow.

Her body went ridged. With all her might she pushed him away, eyes accusing, “You killed Captain Macao! You killed Janz? I saved your life and his and then you killed him!”

She sobbed uncontrollably, her fists clenched, pounding against his chest.
 

Kieran stared. He blinked.
 

What memory was that?

He tried to recall the scene, instantly regretting
 
having shared only a part of himself and not all. Short of breaking a sacred vow to Janz Macao, he could not explain; nor did he think she would believe words that contradicted what she thought she saw.

Dana suffered in silence, grieving. Serving aboard
Lancer
with Captain Janz Macao had been the turning point in her life. From that mission onward, her career faltered. Macao was her hero; one of the very few commanding officers that had left an indelible mark upon her.
 

Kieran couldn’t tell her it was a ruse…a lie.

He left the bed, to protect himself as much as to protect her, withdrawing telepathically and physically his offer of communion. “You were right. I have too many secrets.”
 

He turned away and went to shower, taking his toiletries kit with him.

Dana felt cold, and no amount of blankets could break the chill. She shed more tears, something Janz Macao would not approve of, for he disliked weepy females. While Kieran showered, she rolled out of bed, tentatively flexing the muscles of her left leg, sighing when she felt no pain. For that she was thankful.

A wardrobe of stylish clothing awaited her, even a very expensive solar cloak. She took up her old, crumpled jumpsuit waiting for disposal, shook off the dust and wrinkles and slid back into it, even into her old boots. She left her hair loose and tangled, gathering up the rest of her belongings.
 

Beside her backpack and link-reader were three one thousand credit notes, and a new, Sterillian blade much like the jeweled stiletto Kieran had gifted her fourteen years ago. She left it all untouched. Taking anything more from him would make her little better than the women who lined the plaza hoping for a rich spacer to come along.

She took nothing of his as she slipped out the door and made her escape. Kieran could easily find her again. His SSID credentials allowed him access to all of her personal and personnel files. She just needed some time to think, without the mind-numbing painkillers dulling her brain.
 

Had they consummated the Alphan mating ritual and formed a mind-link, he would be with her forever. She dared to wonder what it would be like to know
 
every hidden thing about Commodore Kieran Jai; to look in the mirror and see him there. All his past memories…all the past missions…and current ones… Of course, the reverse was true, too. He would know her darkest memories, though they clearly did not compare.

What would it be like to never be alone? Ever? Until death? Stop it, Dana! You're not ready to share that part of yourself!

She escaped the resort hotel, taking a robo-cab to the promenade, with her pack slung over her shoulder. Except for her hair, and the rust-colored jumpsuit, she could blend into the scurrying evening crowds.
 

“What I really need is a meal, but I can’t go back to the marketplace.”

The lounge served small plates of passably good cheese and crackers, and simple vegan dips with palatable vegetables, for a reasonable price. That would put her close to Spacer’s Haven right about at dawn.

The lounge overflowed with fresh faces. She couldn’t find a table, just a barstool at the very back near the server station. It gave her a moderately good view of the bar patrons and kept her in the shadows.

Quite a few men seated at the bar were humans. A couple even had Earth star liner insignias. One dark-haired, dark-eyed gentleman gave her a wink and a smile as he pointed to a stool beside him, vacated by a bulky towhead.

I’m double your age
, she thought, but decided to take him up on his offer.

“Thanks… Crowded this morning,” she whispered into his ear, as she sat on the stool and slid her backpack down between her knees.

“We just got in. Big conference coming up in a few days. Brought lots of security types and special services,” he responded. “I’m Rick.”

“Dana,” she told him and he offered another smile, staring but not mentioning her mismatched eyes. She wondered how long it would take before he noticed them.

She caught the bartender’s attention and ordered a cheap draft beer and a plate of nibbles.

“What about you?” He asked, just making small talk, during the lulls in the blaring music, well, what T-town locals called music.

“I brought a private in with an Ambassador.” She didn’t want to say much more.

“From Earth?”

She shook her head, not wanting to reveal details, taking a long sip of the golden-brown beverage the bartender delivered.

“You’ve got strange eyes,” Rick mumbled. “Wasn’t sure. You look exotic.”

Dana nearly burst out laughing. “Exotic? Me?”

Either he was teasing or he was an SSID plant. She decided to play it safe and say little. Better to keep him talking, though she didn’t want to feign too much interest, lest he get the wrong idea.

“Do star liners have big crews?”

“About twenty on ours…lots of turnover. People bump up to the bigger birds.”
 

She offered Rick some of her snacks and he tasted the dip, using a cracker. “Most of the food here has a funny taste. This isn’t bad.” Dana chuckled, reminding, “T-town isn’t exactly a bright spot on the star charts.”

“Not true,” Rick said, “T-town is a favorite of the business sector; and this big conference is bringing a whole lot of businessmen in. In another few days, this place will be flooded — even when the sun is up.”

“Oh, no…everyone scurries for cover during daylight hours. You can get some decent Earth coffee over at the marketplace. Just don’t eat anything you can’t pronounce.”

Rick laughed, enjoying her jest, giving her a wink.

All at once, they heard a commotion near the side hatch.

“Bar fight,” Rick deduced, taking ahold of his beer mug and swiveling around to watch.

Dana glanced in that general direction and saw a Tresgan. It wasn’t Hawk. This one was bigger and nastier looking, and he was taking on a Rigelian. “Not good,” she remarked to her neighbor, as she gulped down the last of her beer.
 

She grabbed for her backpack, brought out her last 10-C note and laid it on the bar, then scooped the last few nibbles of crackers and cheese into a side pocket and slid off the stool.

“Better get out now, Rick,” she cautioned, and then bolted for the hatch. He wasn’t behind her when it slammed shut.
 

By the time Dana reached the far side of the promenade, patrons began to pour out of the lounge and security began to arrive. She watched from a safe distance until the call went out for medics. Though she still had current certification, she wasn’t about to go back inside.

The air temps started rising. As she walked along aimlessly, enjoying being pain-free, Dana mulled over possibilities, and an idea dawned.
 

Star liners had “lots of turnover.” That’s what Rick said. She had the credentials. Maybe… She scoped out a vacant robo-cab and used the transport card, setting the spaceport admin building as her destination; the very building where the recruiters for the big private ships often loitered.

“Worth a shot,” she decided, “besides, the Commissioner wants to see me again, though I have no clue why.”
 

CHAPTER TEN

Hawk scowled, finding his new orders distasteful and repulsive.
 

Apologize to Cartwright! Awk!

His Master insisted, superseding personal preferences. The human, whose image stared at him from the view screen, ruled.

Hawk acquiesced.

Augustus Kaelin King did not even so much as blink his mismatched eyes — one blue and one brown — when commanding, “Do not fail me again, Hawk! You must not harm her in any way; nor allow anyone else to harm her. Do you understand? I want Dana Cartwright alive and unharmed!”

Hawk squawked an affirmative.

“Whatever it takes…bring her here, to Arkares. I need her.”

Kaelin King wanted Dana J. Cartwright. The reason was clear. They could be twins. They had the same cinnamon-colored hair, though hers was very long and King’s was thin and receding at the temples. They had the same mismatched eyes. In size, they were very much alike, small and thin. King was clever — in some ways brilliant — and like Cartwright, he had a temper.

“I will succeed, Master, or I will die,” the Tresgan vowed. As the view screen went blank, Hawk shivered, fluttering his solar cloak nervously.
 

He needed a plan — a fail-safe plan — to lure Captain Cartwright aboard
Kal-King
.
 

Once aboard, she could not refuse his offer. The ship would convince her. Many a captain would pay to command this beautiful, private yacht. There was no need to even mention his Master’s orders.
 

Hawk knew one more thing; he dare not fail.

Xalier’s fur bristled as Captain McHale moved to stand behind him — an instinctual reaction not an emotional one. He rather liked the human who always smelled of meat. Xalier favored fellow carnivores.

“We must engage the mercenaries before that ship powers up to leave,” McHale decided. “We can’t wait for Commodore Jai’s response.”

Xalier countered, “There are thousands of life forms in those tunnels, sir. Your team will be trapped.”

“They need only to tag five people for transport and get out. We can insert them here.” McHale indicated a cavern on the holographic map where five life forms were located deep in a clearing. “We can then collapse the landing bay and trap the mercenary ships.”

Xalier blinked his amber, feline eyes. “It’s your call, Captain.”

Janz Macao paced, trying hard, by pounding on the ground and stomping, to shake off the angry emotions touching his brother had evoked.

The Enturians slept, unaware of his distress, their bellies full for a change. For two straight days the slaves brought significant, belly-filling meals, and even a fifth cup for Macao, but there was no sign of Dec.

Macao fretted. Swimming in the pool wasn’t helping his back pain as hoped. Shalee’s voice attempted to soothe, but even her wise words could not calm him.
 

She pleaded,
Beloved? Kieran is bound to Dana January. You could not leave me if the situation was reversed. Your brother must do what he must.

Dear One, what must I do?

He waited a long time for a response, and nearly laughed out loud when it came.

Jump.

Her admonition gave him strength. So much of the mission he’d allowed Kieran to rule over him. Now their lives depended upon a Star Service Captain’s instincts and wisdom.

He knelt near Schaffer and the Enturian stirred. “I’m going to prowl about the caverns.”

The Lieutenant moved to rise. “I’ll come with you, sir.”

Macao’s first instinct was to protest, but the man’s expression held strong determination, a trait he admired, and he liked the idea of a companion on the reconnaissance.

Schaffer took a splinter of wood, about arm’s-length long, that had a wooly substance tightly wrapped about one end. He dipped it in the embers of the fire, lighting a torch. “It keeps the rats away,” he offered.

Macao worried that the glow might be detected, but did not give it voice. He had no clue what they might encounter. A hand beacon would be better. A laser rifle even better still.
 

If wishes were fishes…
 

He couldn’t recall the rest of the archaic Earth proverb. Maybe he’d even gotten it wrong. When you touch another’s mind telepathically, you sometimes collected cliches and nonsense. He could feel a good deal of hesitation from the other Enturians, but Schaffer seemed an exception, though Janz couldn’t pinpoint why.

Schaffer motioned for him to lead, but held up the torch to light the way. “Your boots are leaving a trail, sir.”

Macao looked back. He noticed that Schaffer was barefoot. “Is it better to abandon them?”