Enemy One (Epic Book 5) (82 page)

Svetlana’s body collapsed with relief. Ka`vesh was on board.

As she stared at the view screen, Svetlana noted for the first time that Gabralthaar was cringing in pain. He’d been shot. As Ka`vesh and Uguul covered him, Nagogg rasped from the front of the bridge. “Detach from the vessel, now!”

Nik-nish’s fingers once again worked the controls. As the three Bakma sunk into the safety of the antechamber, the extended bridge sealed itself from within. With a noticeable jolt, it detached from the alien spacecraft.

“Move away and into firing position,” said Nagogg, back-stepping hurriedly to his chair. “Destroy the vessel before it can retaliate!”

The view screen switched from the docking bridge to deep space. As a sense of mass and motion returned, Svetlana watched the stars glide across the screen until the Noboat’s nose was once again facing the spacecraft. Bits of debris flew from the open hole where the Noboat had attached itself. Svetlana fell motionless as she realized what she was about to see.

There was no hesitation from Nik-nish. The Noboat’s plasma cannons unleashed their fury, and the colorful, arrow-shaped vessel erupted into short-lived, silent flames in the vacuum of space. Its fanned wings broke apart; its centrifuge spun off into space. In an instant, the artistry of an alien species that none of them had ever met was willfully destroyed. A crew, a mission…extinguished. Turning her head to look up at Nagogg, Svetlana could see just enough of his face to make out that skeleton’s grin. To see a total lack of remorse.

To see her future, if she didn’t escape.

Footsteps emerged from the hall beyond the bridge—right outside of the antechamber. She could hear the Bakmas’ blustering loud and clear. “Move forward, creature!” said Ka`vesh, the fiery zealot’s voice laced with condemnation. A second later, to the thumps of stumbling footsteps, they appeared. The three alien “creatures,” for all the crew to see.

They were resplendent.

Humanoid and slender, they looked more like beings out of an angelic vision than extraterrestrials. Their skin was light and smooth like porcelain, their hair airy like down feathers yet in vibrant shades and color patterns. They had tall, rounded ears—almost fox ears—that were pivoting in every direction like prey surrounded by predators. Atop sharp, canine noses were dark-lined eyes with pitch-black irises. Their lips were full, their cheeks freckled. Whiskers twitched wildly beneath their nostrils.

As alien as the Bakma, Ithini, and Ceratopians looked, these beings looked like they could have been borne of the creatures of Earth. There were elements of humankind, elements of dogs, cats, foxes, all topped with feathery hair that would have shamed a peacock. They were instantly relatable. Instantly alluring.

And in Svetlana’s mind, instantly allied.

Each being was adorned in a wardrobe that looked unique. There was nothing militaristic or standardized about them. On the contrary, they were free-flowing weaves of various shades, some brightly colored, some borderline translucent. They made the beings look free. Free to express, free to be. Free in every sense of the word except the situational. For now, they were not free at all.

Ka`vesh and Gabralthaar shoved the beings forward violently until all three of them were standing in the middle of the troop bay. There looked not an ounce of fight in them. They looked terrified—stunned. They looked like they had no idea what’d just happened. Their black eyes shifted from the Bakma, to her on the floor, to the canrassi. Their whiskers and noses twitched with revulsion. They were smelling that acidic vinegar stench for the first time. Then, seemingly all at once, they looked at the view screen.

Far in the distance that’d been placed between it and the Noboat were the clearly-defined remnants of the vessel from which they’d come. The broken centrifuge was still spinning. Pieces of the vessel’s fanned wings were floating in the dead of space. What had once been their home was now a shredded wreckage.

Its mouth opening, the tallest of the beings—a being with shoulder-length, fiery orange hair—uttered, voice trembling, “Itash’la…itash’la…”

It was registering. All of it. Whoever they’d known on that vessel—whoever they’d cared for or loved—was dead.

Deep in Svetlana’s veins, the temperature of her blood rose.

“Bring him forward,” said Nagogg, pointing with his spear to the one that’d spoken—the one that looked, if appearances were indicative of anything at all, like he might have been a leader. Shoved forward by Ka`vesh, he fell to the floor.

It was clear that among the three of them, two were male and one female. Their faces and figures were wholly indicative of their genders, which were as recognizable as a human’s, despite the wild diversity of their hair—particularly that of the female, whose long, straight strands were lustrous black with teal streaks.

As he pushed up on his hands, the orange-haired being looked up at Nagogg. The chieftain was poised above him, spear in one hand while his three warriors held their E-35s at the beings’ backs. His lipless grin widening, Nagogg spoke in Bakmanese. “A lesson in authority.”

A lesson in authority? What was that supposed to mean?

Rearing back with his spear, Nagogg thrust it forward, straight through the being’s neck. Svetlana gasped; the two other beings shrunk back in horror. The body of the impaled alien contorted in shock, his mouth hanging open as dark red blood—as his life—spilled onto the floor. Ripping the spear out as violently as he’d inserted it, Nagogg stepped back as the being collapsed forward. After several more gurgles and twitches, the alien’s body went still. It was dead.

The two remaining beings cried out, their wails of distress indiscernible but unmistakable. Their nightmare had begun. Right then, the black and teal-haired female shot a glare of pure hatred in the direction of Nagogg. Svetlana watched in shock as the female’s black eyes literally turned red, as if crimson dye had been dropped in the centers of her irises.

“Hang them beside the infidel,” said Nagogg. “They know now to fear.”

Grabbing the back of the beings’ wardrobes, the two Bakma warriors jerked them out of the brig and toward the hall.

“Bring the canrassi with you,” said Nagogg. “He will inspire cooperation.”

Turning back to Nagogg, Ka`vesh said, “Uladek speaks.” While the other two Bakma held the beings at bay, Ka`vesh produced the magnetic key from a slit in his tattered wardrobe. Svetlana’s eyes fixed on it.

That was where the warrior kept it. Right there, attached to himself—where the only way to get it was through him. So be it.

Kneeling next to Mishka, Ka`vesh unlocked the beast’s clamped legs. The canrassi obediently followed, spewing saliva as it snarled viciously in the beings’ direction. Terrified, they were led out.

Can you connect me to them?
Svetlana asked to Ed, their connection still there.
Before they are too far away?

The Ithini looked squarely at her.
I have never connected with this species. I do not know their tolerance for such an intrusion. There may be resistance.

There was no time to speculate on it. Svetlana needed to talk to one of them now.
Take the chance—I must address them, to let them know they are not alone.

As you wish. Please remain as calm as possible.

Get on with it!

For the faintest of moments, Ed gave Svetlana a look that she could have sworn was disparaging, though it quickly transitioned into the focused stare of a connection attempt. Closing her eyes, Svetlana lowered her forehead to the Noboat floor. The calm was getting easier and easier to find. Drawing in a breath, and having no idea what kind of “resistance” she and Ed might be on the verge of facing, Svetlana waited for the arrival of the unknown third party—provided Ed could break through. Clinging to her calm, Svetlana waited for that uncanny
click
. That indicator that someone new had joined the mental discussion. That unmistakable feel of a new Ithini connection.

Click.

Fear. Anger. Panic. The three feelings slammed into her like a tidal wave—her blue eyes opened as she drew a sharp breath.

Something was wrong. The emotions being fed into her mind, they were more than a connection. They were a torrent of unprotected vulnerability. In the wake of the unknown extraterrestrial’s panic, Svetlana found her own self kicking into fight or flight. Yanking mindlessly against her clasps, she writhed to no avail to break herself free. Then she looked up. Ei`dorinthal was convulsing like he was having a seizure, every part of the Ithini’s body flailing as he slammed back against one of the consoles. All at once, every Bakma on the bridge spun to look at him.

The connection severed. Svetlana’s panic dissipated. Gaze steadfast on Ed, she watched as Nagogg, the closest one in proximity, rushed to the alien to grab him. As the Ithini fell lifelessly forward, the chieftain snatched him before he hit the floor. “What is happening?” Nagogg asked, looking around at the other crew members, none of whom offered anything more than a blank stare of confusion. Nagogg looked at Ed again. “Ei`dorinthal? Are you awake?”

None of the crew had noticed Svetlana’s part in this. Their focus must have been fully absorbed by the seizure-induced Ithini. Her brief fight-or-flight response had gone unnoticed.

But what was happening to Ed?

It was the closest thing to panicked that Svetlana had seen Nagogg—the chieftain looked downright desperate as he looked around for assistance that wasn’t coming. The only two other Bakma in the room were Nik-nish and Kraash-nagun, neither of whom were going to be of any help in this situation. Nagogg was on his own with the Ithini.

Though the rush of feelings she’d received had subsided, she could still sense their echo—and for the briefest moment in time, she could swear she felt equal panic from Ed. Whatever happened when the Ithini tried to connect to the captured aliens, it had caught Ed just as off guard as it had Svetlana. Had it been a defense mechanism of some sort? Had the Ithini stepped over some kind of mental tripwire? Only he could answer that—but he was nowhere near in a condition to do that now.

A fear suddenly struck her as she watched Nagogg shake Ed’s body. What if the Ithini was…dead? What if this killed him? She would be alone. As she watched Nagogg shake the Ithini, she could only hope and pray to see her co-conspirator’s life return.

As if on cue, it did just that. Ed’s head jolted upright, the alien’s arms flailing as Nagogg jumped, startled, then pulled the Ithini up to his feet. Then, Svetlana saw Ed do something she’d never seen an alien do before. He threw up. His frail stomach heaved, his neck bulged, and the elevator in his throat went full reverse as a handful of half-processed calunod was ejected onto the floor in a series of heaves. Even without nostrils, the stench was enough to sting Svetlana’s sense of smell. It, combined with the fresh smell of death from the alien Nagogg had impaled, was almost enough to make
her
vomit.

For the next five minutes, Svetlana watched as Nagogg tried with little success to get something out of Ed. It wasn’t long until Nagogg was joined by his henchmen, returning from their task of chaining their new arrivals up in the brig, at which point all of the Bakma present gathered around Ed to try and get some kind of communication from him. At long last, after whatever discombobulation the Ithini was feeling started to dissipate, he gave them an answer.

Svetlana, thankfully, was not part of it.

Listening in on the conversation, she heard as Ed explained to the Bakma that he’d attempted to establish a connection with the captives, only to receive some sort of violent mental feedback that not only short-circuited his mental abilities but essentially robbed him of bodily control. The Ithini claimed that he was going to probe into their thoughts to learn more about their identity and homeworld, an explanation Svetlana figured was the only one Nagogg and his crew were likely to accept at face value. They did. Instead of chastising Ed for the effort, Nagogg actually commended him on being proactive in his desire to please Uladek. Ed’s claim also accomplished something else—having seen what happened to the Ithini, there was virtually no chance that Nagogg or anyone would attempt a connection with the new aliens. The prospect of being thrust into uncontrollable seizures, as it turned out, was quite the deterrent.

But was all of this true?

Svetlana had an uncanny feeling that it wasn’t—at least, not totally. And so she waited for Nagogg’s interrogation of Ed to come to an end, at which point she was certain the Ithini would connect with her mind. She was right.

It took about fifteen additional minutes of waiting, but sure enough, that oddly comforting
click
from Ed came to her mind again. The connection felt somewhat hesitant, almost as if the alien was trepid about using his powers again. After what had just happened, Svetlana didn’t blame him.

Several seconds after the connection was established, Ed addressed her.
Something unexpected happened.

The impulse to be sarcastic was so strong, Svetlana had to bite her lip.

There were no barriers to overcome
, said the Ithini.
I prepared to break through walls that did not exist. Truth was relayed without reservation.

Looking at the floor to avoid queuing the others in on the fact they were “conversing,” Svetlana replied,
I’m not sure I understand.

A sense of stillness and uncertainty was relayed to her. Ed was figuring out how to better explain it.
With other species, such as yourself and the Bakma, truth must be ascertained and sometimes deciphered. With this new species, truth is freely given. Reservation is nonexistent.

So they are…truthful?

They know nothing else. Though the deceit concept must exist, it has no bearing on their emotion. I was not prepared for such a free-flowing exchange.

She was still confused.
So when you connected to them, their…truthfulness…stunned you?

Ed searched her mind for something to compare it to. She could sense his mental fingers.
I was prepared to pry open a door. I popped open a cork.