Frost Station Alpha 1-6: The Complete Series (12 page)

Tamryn made a loop with the wire, then leaned toward the locker again. Using it, she could reach the latch. Had the door been locked, she would have been out of luck, but she had been in a hurry earlier and hadn’t bothered. It took a couple of minutes, minutes she worried she didn’t have, but she managed to hook the wire and tug open the latch. The door swung open.

As she had feared, all of the weapons had been removed. There were a few more ration bars, which she wouldn’t mind ravaging, but her gaze alighted on a couple of spray bottles and a floor-mopping robot on the bottom. The closest bottle was clear with some yellow substance in it. As an officer, she didn’t usually get stuck on cleaning duty anymore, but she thought there might be glycerin or something else slick in the container, so she got on her knees and tried to loop the bottle with the wire. This proved as challenging as the latch, since it was secured in a holder on the side of the locker. She kept glancing at the door, expecting Makkon to walk in at any moment.

Finally, she tugged the bottle free. She knocked it over in the process and cursed when it tried to roll toward the back of the locker and escape her. A final lunge with her wire lasso caught it. She squirted her wrist liberally with the stuff, hardly caring if it turned out to be something toxic that made her swell up with hives. She didn’t know how many minutes had passed since Makkon left, but if he had gone to his ship and knew exactly where those drugs were, it wouldn’t take him long to return.

The cold liquid did not feel particularly slick, but Tamryn worked it all over her wrist and the back of her hand. Since the metal cuffs did not conform to the width of her wrist the way flex cuffs would, she hoped she might be able to squeeze out. Her hands weren’t that big.

She twisted and pulled, the metal biting into her flesh. Just as she was about to give up, one of her joints popped, and her hand came free. The pain of whatever she had dislocated brought tears to her eyes and a gasp of pain to her lips, but she hardly cared. She lunged for the door.

The memory of nearly crashing into Makkon the last time she had exited Comm and Control flashed into her mind, but the corridor still lay empty. She ran to the right, away from the lifts. As much as she dreaded the idea of crawling back into the maintenance shafts again, especially without her tablet full of maps to guide her, she dared not take any main corridors or elevators. Makkon wasn’t the only one she could run into out there, and nobody else had mentioned keeping her alive if she cooperated. And since she wasn’t exactly cooperating now, even he might decide he’d grown tired of her and shoot.

As she reached the intersection and paused to make sure it was empty, a faint whisper of sound reached her ear. It had sounded like a door opening somewhere behind her. The lift?

She hoped it was her imagination, but she slowed down. Someone would hear running footsteps. She forced herself to step quietly and headed toward a different entrance into the maintenance system than she had used before. She could only hope that Makkon couldn’t track her a second time.

Chapter 9

Makkon almost laughed when he walked into the empty comm room. When he’d locked Tamryn up with the handcuffs, he had wondered if she would be able to find a way to free herself. He’d thought she might—or that she would find a way to call her comrade to rescue her—and that was why he had removed the power supply from the console.

He wasn’t too concerned about finding her again—by now, her scent was indelibly imprinted in his brain—and he’d even had the thought that she might lead him to the other missing person. When he spotted a puddle of liquid on the deck under the dangling handcuff, he realized his tracking job would be even easier than he had expected. He’d caught the pungent scent of the cleaning agent before he had even opened the door. If she had doused her arm with it to facilitate her escape, she would smell strongly of it until she had time to wash—and probably even after.

Makkon returned to the corridor and pocketed the syringe with the interrogation drug that he had brought. He wouldn’t need it yet. In truth, he was almost relieved she was not here, as he had dreaded the idea of using the drug on her. Perhaps it was foolish, but he still had this notion that she might become a sympathizer, someone he could trust—and someone who trusted him. It would be hard to earn her trust—or any other regard from her—if he was the one who forced her to divulge secrets.

The citrus-scented soap hung in the air of the corridor. He had never had citrus fruit in his life, but he knew what it smelled like, and he followed the trail as easily as if someone had painted arrows on the deck. He told himself to take it slow, that he wanted to give her time to connect with her comrade. Also, he didn’t want her sensing him close—or hearing him if he had to open some ridiculously loud hatch. If she did, she would choose another route, try not to endanger the other person. Still, he couldn’t loiter too long. It was possible she was heading straight down to that auxiliary comm station instead of trying to find her ally. He couldn’t let her send a message to her superiors that gave away all the intel she had gathered. Brax had managed to delete the other one, and the less their government and military knew about his people, the better.

Despite the advice he gave to himself to give her a head start so she wouldn’t panic and alter course, Makkon struggled to keep his pace sedate. Judging by the strength of the scent, it hadn’t been long since she had gone this way. He wagered she was still on this level and that she had escaped from the room less than a minute before he had arrived. A big part of him wanted to break into a sprint, even if it meant causing her to run and starting a chase. His groin twitched at the idea of stalking her again, seeing what traps she might lay for him this time, finally capturing her and pulling her into his arms...

“Makk,” he groaned, disgusted at himself.

He rubbed his forehead. He’d been a hunter his entire life, and the opportunity to chase dangerous prey had always excited him, but not
sexually
. Of course, ice tigers and woolly bull-chargers didn’t have a tendency to get his libido going.

He shook his head and stared at the floor for a moment, forcing himself to stand still and take a few breaths—and to accept that he had a problem. Maybe an obsession.

His comm beeped.

“Makkon,” he responded, hoping the rest of the men weren’t having any trouble. He felt guilty that he’d spent this much time with Tamryn when others were pulling guard shifts and hunting for the missing person. There might be other threats to deal with, as well.

“You finish questioning her?” Brax asked.

Makkon hesitated. He had a
lead
on the information... “I should have Pavlenko’s mysterious comrade shortly.”

“Oh? Good. You ask her about the secret too? I’ve questioned several of the scientists. They’ve all blathered about alien artifacts that some linguistics officer is studying. You get that out of the girl?”

Makkon found his fingers curling into a fist. Brax had gone down and questioned—interrogated—the civilians? If he’d planned to do that all along, why had he tried to get Makkon to do... what he had very nearly done?

“Alien artifacts?” Makkon said, aware of Brax waiting for a response. He didn’t know who was around Brax, so he didn’t want to argue over the comm, but later, he would have words in private for his co-commander.

“She didn’t talk about that? I’d like to know from a soldier’s mouth why they’re here. It’s hard to imagine the military caring about guarding artifacts, not when they’re all over the tunnels down there. I could question these other soldiers, but they’re all so injured, I don’t know if they’d survive an interrogation. And I wouldn’t want you getting crabby with me for killing your hostages.”

“Thoughtful of you,” Makkon said. “I’ll ask her. We got off on a tangent.”

“I bet you did.” Brax’s snort was almost a laugh. Then he lowered his voice. “Look, enjoy a quick fuck if you want, but don’t get sidetracked. We have time, but not infinite time. Find out more about the artifacts and try to capture that other officer. The scientists all give the impression that she’s a well-known researcher and a valuable asset for the military. She might be our best hostage.”

“I’ll get her.”

“I’m sure you will, hunt leader.” Brax snorted again. “Keep me updated. Out.”

Brax was working his way up to a Challenge, whether he knew it or not. But Makkon forced down his irritation. He had lost his prisoner, and until he had Tamryn back, along with this other officer, he wouldn’t feel comfortable returning to the others.

• • • • •

The door to Captain Porter’s lab was missing. A wave of soot painted the walls on either side of the empty doorway, and shadows dominated the interior. Tamryn doubted Porter was inside, but she walked in, wondering if the artifacts had been discovered. Porter kept them in a vault when she wasn’t studying them.

The lights should have flicked on when she entered, but they remained out. Tamryn eased to the side of the doorway, sensing that she wasn’t alone. She almost stepped on the warped and blackened door. It had been ripped—or blown—off its hinges and dumped on the floor. The lab itself did not seem to have suffered damage. Counters with stools lined the walls, and a big table in the center held stacks of paper, as well as scientific equipment Tamryn couldn’t have named.

“Tam?” came a soft voice from the shadows in a back corner, a woman’s voice.

“Captain Porter?”

“Didn’t I tell you to call me Anise?”

“Yeah, but you were the highest-ranking person even before—” Tamryn cut off what she had meant to say. She didn’t want to talk about how Captain Ram and almost everyone else was dead, especially not when she had just been letting herself be fondled by one of the men responsible. “You’re a captain.”

Anise walked out of the shadows, glancing toward the corridor. She carried a laser rifle and wore her TacVest, even though Tamryn had never seen her with weapons before. Half the time, she wore civilian clothes, and she only came to P.T. about once a week. Even though Porter must have to qualify on the range every year with rifle and pistol, Tamryn wanted the weapons in her own hands, even if one of those hands ached wickedly from being contorted on its way out of the cuff. Anise’s short, brown hair stuck up in all directions—she’d once confessed she was far too busy to condition and primp long hair—and she wore smart-glasses that corrected her sight along with having myriad other functions. Judging by the lack of lights, seeing in the dark was probably one of them.

“Captain of research.” Anise snorted as she came around the table. She held out one arm for a hug, keeping the rifle pointed toward the door with the other.

Tamryn accepted the hug, relieved to have an ally, but she kept it short. She didn’t feel safe staying here. “You’ve seen them, I take it.”

“I went through all the station’s camera feeds while I was cowering in the vault, and wondering if it was safe to come out or if I was going to have to pee on some ten-thousand-year-old artifacts.”

“Did they know you were in there?” Given all the explosives floating around the station, Tamryn had a hard time believing the intruders hadn’t been able to find sufficient ordnance to blow open a vault door. “And would you mind sharing one of your weapons?”

“Of course not. I’ve seen you shoot.” Anise handed her the rifle and kept the pistol for herself. “There are some knives in that drawer over there. They’re more for dissecting ice frogs than for hurling at enemies, but you may find something useful. As to the vault, I don’t think they knew for certain that anyone was in there. They never saw me, and my scent is all over the lab, so it probably would have been tough to tell. And given the size of the vault, it doesn’t really look like something a human would stuff herself into, right?” Anise waved at the waist-high metal door in the back corner of the room.

“Not... willingly.” Tamryn checked the charge in the laser cartridge. It was full. Anise must not have fired at anyone yet. “What do you mean your scent?”

“All of their senses should be far superior to human average. Speaking of that...” Anise sniffed a few times. “You smell like you’ve been cleaning lavatories.”

“Long story. What do you mean their senses are superior? Do you know who they are? Why they’re here?”

“I have a hypothesis as to who they are, or at least whose descendants they are. I have no idea why they’re here, but obviously their intent isn’t friendly.” Anise’s lips flattened, but she gripped Tamryn’s shoulder. “At least we’re still alive. We’ll have to find a way to wash you. There’s not anyone tracking you now, is there?”

“Uh.” Tamryn felt like a ton of bricks had fallen on her. Superior senses. Back in those maintenance shafts, had Makkon been tracking her with his
nose
? If he had found her earlier, then he would have no problem doing so this time, with the lemon floor cleaner dried on her skin. “Shit.” She grabbed Anise’s arm. “We have to get out of here. I may have led them right to you.”

Her throat tightened as she strode for the door. She paused only long enough to grab a folding knife from the drawer and stick it into her pocket. She felt like such an idiot.

Fortunately, Anise did not resist being tugged along. Maybe it wasn’t too late. Tamryn could find a place to clean all trace of odors from her body, and they could—

Some instinct warned her of a threat in the corridor before she stepped out. She didn’t think she had heard anything, but she swung the rifle to the left, hoping to catch whoever might be coming before he arrived.

But Makkon stood right by the doorway. His hand darted out, and he caught her rifle by the barrel, knocking it up as she fired. The laser beam blasted harmlessly into the ceiling. Tamryn jumped back, trying to give herself room to shoot again, but he yanked the rifle from her grip and swept her legs with a kick. As she fell, she saw Anise leaning out to fire. Makkon disarmed her and had her face plastered to the wall before Tamryn hit the floor.

“Let’s talk about artifacts,” Makkon said coolly, looking at Tamryn rather than his new prisoner.