Kidnapped (6 page)

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Authors: Maria Hammarblad

BOOK: Kidnapped
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*****

 

It took a couple of hours, but Patricia eventually went looking for Travis. She didn't have to search for long. He stood on the bridge, staring thoughtfully out through a window showing a picture of perfect devastation. Had she really been out in that and survived? She said softly, "I thought I was going to die there, on an alien planet far away from home. But you saved me. Thank you."

Travis didn't turn around, he just shook his head, and at first she wasn't certain if he was talking to himself or to her. "I'm not a good man. I've caused more suffering than you can imagine, and ended the lives of more people than you can count. So why do I let my target get away and go rescue a girl?"

She bit her lip and looked down. As real as his frustration seemed to be, and as serious as the topic was, she couldn't help but find it all just a little comical. When she was sure her voice wouldn't betray her amusement, she suggested, "Maybe you like me."

He turned around and stared at her, and she realized his eyes had changed since that first day when he arrested her. They had been dead, frightening, not caring, but now they were as filled with life and emotions as anyone's. Still, his voice was icy, "I'm a high ranking officer of the corps. I Do Not Like People."

She couldn't tell if the idea offended or scared him. Either way, she had never been good at keeping her mouth shut, so now she smiled and teased, "Really?" before adding, more seriously, "You know, that sounds very lonely to me."

Travis shook his head in frustration, and looked like he wanted to throw something at the wall. She wondered why she didn't just leave: staying out of his way for a while would probably be a good idea. He exclaimed heatedly, "I'm not supposed to be lonely. I'm not supposed to need people or care even for myself, so why do I care about
you
?"

He started pacing, but the room wasn't all that big, and the second time he passed he grabbed her arms, tugged her closer, and kissed her almost painfully hard. Releasing his grip immediately, he turned away, mumbling, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. Maybe you should go to your room for a bit."

Patricia hesitated, thinking he was insane and she was going crazy too. Maybe she really was sitting in a padded cell somewhere, wearing one of those shirts with very long arms tied to her back, and all this was happening in her mind.

Even while thinking these things, she took a couple of steps closer to him and said softly. "No. It's alright."

Wrapping her arms loosely around his neck, she added, "But be gentle, okay," and pressed her lips against his. Touching him seemed very wrong and forbidden, and she was surprised to find she wanted it very much.

 

 

 

Chapter Six

 

 

William stood in the middle of the bridge, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. Isabela pressed a few controls and a holographic map of the solar system appeared in the middle of the room. William scrutinized it, ducking instinctively under a holographic planet.

He was a large man, both tall and muscular, and had once upon a time served as a preacher on a distant colony; a choice that contrasted with his appearance. That peaceful life had come to an abrupt end when he decided to help a family of fugitives hide from the Alliance. Travis's men had gathered most of the parishioners in the city hall and burned both the building and the surrounding village down, cheered on by Supreme Commander Veronica.

William had been taken prisoner. Being condemned to torture almost seemed easy compared to always remembering the screams from his dying friends, not to mention the smell that had covered the once peaceful landscape. One good thing had come from it all: he had met Isabela. Glancing over at her, he flashed her a smile before returning his attention to the map.

Pointing towards a nearby moon, he said calmly, "Let's hide over here. That should give us some cover."

His second in command, computer expert Aaren, rolled his eyes and exclaimed, "Are you out of your mind, Bill? Travis is still down there, and he's like a freakin' bloodhound! He'll find us, and this system will be swarming with Alliance ships within hours."

William shrugged, "And then we'll outrun them. We've done it before. He still hasn't taken off, I wonder what he's doing down there. Something's up and I want to know what it is."

Glancing over towards Isabela, he thought she seemed to agree with Aaren, but she still plotted the course without objections, and he was grateful for her support. He patted Vasiliy on the shoulder, "Good job down there. Next time, just remember to run in the right direction."

Vasiliy blushed a little. "What do you think he's doing down there? I bet it's something more hideous than we can even imagine."

 

 

 

Chapter Seven

 

 

When Patricia kissed him, Travis hesitated before wrapping his arms around her. Once he allowed himself to hold her it felt better than anything he could remember, and he returned her kiss tentatively. An experience like this, gently led and encouraged by a woman who actually wanted him, was completely new to him. Sex as an act of love and not dominance, done together, caring for the other, was something he had never even heard of before.

Afterwards, they lay entangled on the floor. He knew very well he should have been darting after the Redeemer, but he didn't care. The metal under him was chilly, but he didn't care about that either. He had long since been conditioned to ignore little discomforts like cold and heat.

He did care about the woman's head resting on his shoulder and her warm breath against his skin. What he had just experienced, and the trusting way she relaxed in his arms, seemingly content, gave him a peculiar warm feeling through his chest. He was holding her with his partly mechanical arm, and took the opportunity to run his own hand over her hair. It felt good to touch; silky and soft.

He didn't recognize all the feelings and he still had to name quite a few of them, but a couple were well known: guilt and fear. Bringing her had seemed reasonable and right at the time, but now he thought it an excellent example of bad judgement. He wasn't too worried about himself, but for the first time in his life he feared for someone else, for what they might do to her.

There was another flavour of guilt too. He had just gotten his first taste of what life could be like, and it made him wonder how many people living normal lives he had killed or arrested. How many families had he ripped apart, and how many people had he wounded? He couldn't put a number on it, but he knew there were many.

Patricia woke him from his thoughts by moving a little. She commented softly, "I'm a mess. We need to clean up. It's a shame you don't have a real shower with water in it."

The Alliance valued efficiency in every detail, and the matter of cleanliness was no exception. Travis had never thought about it. Like the food, the personal cleansers got the job done.

At the moment, he was reluctant to move. If he could have, he would have stayed exactly where he was for the rest of his life. Patricia, however, wanted water, and he would provide water.

He was starting to realize his view of himself and his role in the universe had been fundamentally changed. It had probably started as soon as she came aboard, but the last few hours had turned everything upside down for him. None of the things that had been important to him just hours earlier, through choice or conditioning, meant anything to him any longer. He had a new prime directive: to protect the girl and to keep her happy.

One part of the programming he'd been subjected to since he was a child hadn't changed, and he would perform this new task to the best of his abilities, or die trying.

He answered slowly, "There is one. There's a room for the Supreme Commander on every ship, and they've been constructed to accommodate to all her wishes. She has many."

Patricia lifted her head and looked down into his eyes, and he smiled when her hair cascaded over his chest. She sounded interested when she answered, "Really?"

Travis brushed a lock of hair away from her cheek, but he was serious when he replied, "Really. I just never use it, I never go there. Luckily, she hasn't graced my ship with her presence for a long time."

She made an amused face. "It doesn't sound like you like your Commander very much," and added after a split second, "Ooh, it's her, isn't it? Your poor hand, I'm sorry."

Running a finger over her shoulder, he kept his voice mild and even as he answered, "Yes, it's her, don't worry about it. Come on, let's go use her things."

He rose up from the floor and pulled her up just as efficiently.

Showering in warm water together with a woman was definitely an experience he had been missing out on. He was starting to feel restless though, and the need to move was hammering through his mind. He was grateful Patricia didn't argue when he explained, "We've stayed here for too long. We need to take off and at least pretend to be pursuing them."

As long as Central thought he was working, she would be safe.

 

*****

 

Back on the bridge, Patricia was once again astounded by the destruction outside the windows. It was hard to believe she had been out in it and survived. She
was
worried about a certain lack of good judgement in herself, but other than that, she was happier than she'd been since they left Earth. He might not be Prince Charming, but he was trying hard. Making the best of the situation couldn't be all that bad, right?

She sighed as she sank down in the co-pilot's chair, voicing a random thought as her tummy grumbled, "It's a shame we have to leave. I was hoping they'd have some real food."

 

*****

 

Travis was completely focused on the controls in front of him; he was firing up the engines and plotting a course, but when Patricia spoke he sent her a long curious glance. He had been taught to eat whatever was available to sustain his body and to disregard little details like taste. Hunger was a means of a biological machine to say it needed fuel, one gave it fuel, and it continued to work. Still, if she wanted real food, whatever that might be, it was up to him to provide it for her, and he brooded over this problem as they rose through the atmosphere. By the time they reached orbit he had come to a decision, and started to plot a course.

"Alright, I know where to get you real food."

She looked quizzically at him, but she didn't say anything, and he decided to stick with the plan. It was even in a direction that would seem reasonable to the mission, not too far from a known rebel settlement. They could get away with going there. "But we won't get there until tomorrow. Will you be alright until then?"

She didn't answer and  she still looked mystified, so he added, concerned, "Are you okay? Do you want me to get you something to eat?"

Patricia blinked a couple of times. "No, Sweetie, you don't have to do that. I'm fine. No worries."

It was Travis's turn to feel perplexed; he didn't understand why she called him a word for candy. After thinking about it for a moment it made sense, sort of. He still asked, just to be on the safe side. "I'm your sweetie? Like... sugar? Sweetening?"

She giggled, and the sound made him smile too. "Yes, something like that."

There was evidently a complete vocabulary for interpersonal relations that he was unaware of, and logic suggested he ask, "So, what am I supposed to call you?"

"You can call me sweetie too. That's okay for both men and women. Sweetie, honey, dear, lover, baby... You're supposed to call the person you care for something cute like that. Or you can make something up."

He repeated, "cute," not entirely certain of what cute was, but nodded, determined to give it a try since it might make her happy. "Okay... Dear."

It sounded strange coming from his mouth, and he blinked a couple of times, wondering if he was doing it right.

 

*****

 

On the Redeemer, Isabela stood on the bridge, watching a monitor showing Travis's ship darting off into space. She reached out for a control and turned on the radio, "Bill, Travis is taking off."

Everyone in the little crew came running to the bridge. It was a large ship and her husband was short of breath when he asked, "Did he see us?"

She shook her head and pointed to a screen. "I don't think so. He, uh, he went the other way."

William frowned, "This is so strange. Follow him, Sweetheart, I want to see what he's up to."

Aaren looked troubled and muttered, "I don't think following Travis is a good idea. And weren't we going to the Denobian system?"

Isabela remembered he had been opposed to that too to begin with, but compared to going after the Alliance Commander, blowing up another command centre probably seemed like a sensible plan.

Their Captain shrugged the question off, and answered simply, "It will still be there."

Meeting Isabela's gaze, she saw the question in his eyes. He hoped he was making the right decision. She didn't know why it seemed so important to find out why Travis wasn't chasing after them with his usual ferocity and all the might of the Alliance, but whenever someone started acting this atypical, they could bet the stolen ship on it being important. She nodded and set in the course.

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