Shielder — A new Science Fiction Romance (Book 1, Shielder Series) (5 page)

"No unnecessary conversation or senseless
chattering. I abhor distractions. And that creature—" He pointed at
Turi in his plexishield case. "It stays in the case at all times.
Are we clear so far?"

His unwavering stare seemed to bore through
her very soul.
Shadower
. This man was a bounty hunter.
Outside of the Anteks, the Controllers' barbaric enforcers,
shadowers were the scourge of the quadrant. They willingly
underwent Controller psychic mind indoctrination for the sole
purpose of receiving permission to hunt down proclaimed criminals
and collect the rewards.

It didn't matter whether or not the
unfortunates they captured might be innocent. Nor did it matter
that Controller prison facilities were said to be more horrible
than the Abyss. Gold was ultimately the bottom line, because once
indoctrinated, a person no longer housed even a microbe of pity or
concern. They knew only the compelling, cruel dictates of the
Controllers.

"Answer me," McKnight demanded. "Are you
clear on these rules?"

His harsh tone sent shivers through Nessa.
He couldn't possibly know she was a Shielder, she told herself. She
nodded again. "Yes."

"Most important of all, I'm the captain of
this ship. I'm the absolute and final authority. My orders are to
be obeyed at all times, immediately and without question. Any
infraction of ship rules and you'll spend the trip in the brig.
Understood?"

Even sitting, he cut an imposing figure,
filling the large flight seat, crackling with vitality and
authority. The certainty he was a shadower added more danger to an
already threatening situation.

Nessa hoped the tension invading her body
wouldn't trigger another seizure. "I understand, Captain."

"Then see that you follow those rules."

He swiveled around and studied a computer
screen, punching rapidly. He appeared to have dismissed her, but
she had no idea where her quarters were. So she remained seated,
quietly studying the cockpit. Her focus settled on the computer
built into the console.

With a shock, she realized it was an
OCIS-6000, the most advanced system in use. She'd read about the
new computers on Liron's Information Access and Retrieval link, or
IAR. They had only been available a few moon cycles, yet here was
one right in front of her. She longed to touch the keypad, to delve
into data banks reputed to retrieve information almost as fast as
light speed.

"What are you doing?"

The harsh question jolted her out of her
reverie. The familiar feeling of guilt, even when she had done
nothing wrong, swept through her. She turned toward him. "I was
just looking at the computer. I've never seen an OCIS-6000."

His eyes narrowed. "Why would you be
interested in my ship's computer?"

He obviously didn't trust her any more than
she trusted him. Desperately she wished she could access the
navigational system and reassure herself they were headed to the
nearest star base rather than a Controller prison. But she couldn't
afford to arouse McKnight's suspicions any further.

"I had heard about the new computers and was
just curious about them. I'm sorry. I won't touch your
computer."

"See that you don't." He rose from his seat,
towering over her. "Come on. I'll show you to your quarters."

Nessa scrambled up awkwardly, resisting the
urge to rub her stiff leg. She started to heave the heavy case with
Turi into her arms. "I'll take that." McKnight brushed her arms
away and lifted the case easily in one muscular arm.

She found his size and strength
intimidating, yet in an odd way, she also found it fascinating.
Shielder men, although wiry and resilient, were slighter in
stature. They relied on speed and skill in battle rather than
brawn.

She followed McKnight down the corridor. The
cabin quarters apparently lined the wall opposite from the brig
cubicles. Nathan Long lounged near the force field of his brig,
smiling insolently. Ignoring him, McKnight led Nessa to the second
panel. She assumed the first was his quarters.

"Lighting on," he commanded as they entered
the cabin. Lights blinked on. The room was compact, but efficiently
designed. A bunk filled one wall, while shelves and a control panel
for the room functions lined the second wall. Recessed storage
drawers and an entry into a small lavatory occupied the third
wall.

Although the cabin’s accommodations were
probably modest by McKnight's standards, to Nessa they seemed
luxurious. Her hut on Liron was primitive by comparison; so were
Shielder shuttle quarters.

The cabin's limited floor space forced her
into close proximity to McKnight. As he eased around her to set
Turi's case on the table, his leg brushed against her. The
sensation of hard muscles touching her sent an odd vibration
skittering through her body. She could feel the heat emanating from
him, could smell his unique scent.

Since her injury, Nessa's senses had
sharpened, compensating for her lack of physical agility, giving
her a highly attuned sense of smell. She found McKnight's scent an
unfamiliar blend of clean skin and masculine essence; a far cry
from the unwashed, sweaty bodies of male and female Shielders
practicing their battle skills. And not at all unpleasant. She
studied him, an odd warmth surging through her.

Frowning, he watched her. Self-conscious,
she fingered her tunic, wondering if her smell, augmented by scant
opportunity to bathe and old clothing, offended him.

"The controls are voice activated. You have
lights, climate, and music. The lav also operates on voice control.
You should find everything you need here." He turned to go,
brushing past her again.

Nessa realized he hadn't covered such
concerns as water or energy conservation. "Captain McKnight."

He swung around, his glittering stare making
her feel foolish for even asking the obvious. "Yes?"

She swallowed. "What are the limits for
light usage?"

His brows rose. "None. You may keep them on
the entire ship cycle, for all I care. Anything else?"

Surprised but heartened by his answer, Nessa
smoothed her tunic, hoping against hope he'd allow her access to a
cleansing stall. "How about water usage?"

He shifted, seemingly impatient with her
questions. "What about it?"

"I was wondering if I would be allowed use
of the cleansing stall and what the water limit is."

His mouth quirked into a sardonic smile. "By
all means, use the cleansing stall—please! Take all the water you
need." He paused, apparently noting her expression. "That surprises
you. All water used on this ship is recycled through filtration and
biological sterilization; very little is lost. Outside solar panels
supplement the ship's internal power sources, so electricity is
plentiful. Now, is that all?"

"Yes, Captain."

He strode to the entry and then swung back
around. "Meet me in the galley at 1800 hours."

Still distracted by the wonder of unlimited
power and water, she blurted, "Why?"

"For the evening meal. It's best to keep
standard ship hours. Makes the adjustment easier when you're back
on terra firma."

He left before Nessa could point out she had
her own food. But she didn't know where he'd put her bag of
supplies, and she'd have to ask him for it. Her growling stomach
reminded her she hadn't eaten since the previous day, but her
hunger would have to wait. She must tread lightly with this
suspicious shadower. She'd approach him at 1800 hours and ask about
her supplies then.

Meanwhile, she planned to take a long
shower, with all the water—hot water—she wanted. She'd never
dreamed she would experience such a luxury.

Glancing at the entry panel to be sure it
was completely closed, she slid the lid to Turi's case back far
enough to slip her arms inside. Immediately, he wrapped himself
around one arm, chattering a greeting.

"Shhhh. Don't let him hear you. I have to
close the lid in a minute. I know you're hungry, but I'll get our
food soon." She stroked her pet, finding comfort in the warmth of
another living thing.

* * * *

Approaching the galley, Nessa heard sounds
of activity from within. She stopped at the entrance. McKnight was
entering data on a pad that was part of a metal unit taking up much
of the opposite wall. He noticed her and gestured her in. "Sit
down."

He turned back to the wall unit. She stood
there, uncertain. He glanced around, his tawny eyebrows drawing
together. "Sit," he repeated, the command in his voice
unmistakable.

She slid onto a bench at a small table. "If
I could have my supplies, I can eat in my quarters."

"You call those supplies? You don't have
enough in that bag to keep a desert krat alive, much less a
person."

Admittedly, her stores were meager and she
should conserve them as long as possible. But hunger knotted her
stomach and she feared if she didn't eat soon, she might faint. As
if by magic, a loaf of bread appeared behind the plexishield panel
in the wall unit. McKnight opened the panel and retrieved the
bread, setting it on the table.

Enthralled, she leaned forward. "You have a
food replicator? How does it work?"

"You've never seen one before?" He entered
more data before facing her. She shook her head. "It's somewhat
complicated,” he said. “Basically this system takes sterilized,
organic particulate suspensions and converts them into solid food.
It requires a lot of energy, but there's less risk of unsafe
bacteria, and the food is fortified with nutrients."

"Oh." Nessa eyed the replicator in awe. She
didn't know much about bacteria, but McKnight seemed very concerned
about it.

He retrieved a white, round item and set it
on the table, giving her something new to wonder about. "What's
that?"

"You don't know what this is?"

She shook her head again, feeling terribly
ignorant. She decided not to ask more questions, no matter how
fascinating these replicated creations were.

"It's kerani cheese. Full of protein
molecules."

"Oh." She studied the cheese. She'd read
about it and knew it came from the milk of the kerani, a relatively
common mammal on many planets. Since Liron's terrain couldn't
support livestock, she'd never seen any kind of cheese.

In a few more minutes, two plant-based foods
that McKnight called amargrain and cantabeans made their way to the
table. Nessa mentally hoarded their names and the information he
imparted on them. The Shielder diet was a spartan one, composed
mainly of bread made from wild grains, and the few greens and
fruits that would grow in Liron's cool, damp terrain.

He placed two plates and eating utensils on
the table before taking the bench opposite her. She watched in
silence as he cut generous slices of the bread and kerani cheese
onto both plates. He served equally generous portions of the other
items. Then he shoved one plate across to her.

Without another word, he dug into the food
in front of him, eating with obvious relish. Nessa stared at the
food heaped on her plate. It was more than she ate in several days.
She reached out and touched the bread, finding it warm and soft.
How many seasons since she'd had bread that wasn't hard and
stale?

"Is something wrong?"

Nessa looked up at McKnight. He took another
generous bite, his attention on her. She'd scavenged for sustenance
so long, she couldn't conceive of anyone sharing their meal with
her. He probably hoped to gain her trust and then trick her. She
returned her hands to her lap. "You don't have to feed me. I have
provisions."

His eyes never leaving hers, he took a drink
from his tumbler, his powerful throat working as he swallowed. He
set the drink down and pointed at her plate. "Your nourishment is
right there. Eat."

The tempting smell of bread wafted up to
tease Nessa's nose. Maybe one bite wouldn't hurt. She reached out,
then hesitated, self-conscious with McKnight's intense stare fixed
on her.

"Eat." He pointed his utensil at her plate
again.

Her stomach growled. She picked up the bread
and took a tentative bite. It was soft and light, free of mold and
grit. She couldn't remember when anything had tasted this good.
Ignoring the urge to gulp every bit, she forced herself to chew
slowly. She ate a few more bites and then reluctantly slipped the
rest of the bread into her tunic while McKnight spooned more
cantabeans onto his plate.

She found the cheese chewy and tangy, with a
unique flavor. She took a few nibbles before furtively pocketing
that as well. She tasted small samples of the beans and grain,
finding them nutty tasting and satisfying.

Having done away with two plates of food,
McKnight leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, his
attention returning to Nessa. "What planet are you from?"

What remaining appetite she had fled. She
laid down her utensil. "I'm from the colony Delsan. It's on one of
Halpern's moons." Fortunately, she'd done her homework and her
information was accurate. Many cult followers separated themselves
from society, choosing to inhabit moons.

He considered this information. "What about
your family? What kind of parents would allow a young, defenseless
woman to roam the quadrant alone?"

Her family. Nessa's chest constricted. "I
have no parents," she whispered, battling the pain of the past ten
seasons. She noticed McKnight's eyes were no longer icy, but a deep
gray, laced with an unexpected compassion.

"Have you no one, then?"

Thoughts of Jarek eased the ache in her
chest. "I have a brother. He’s waiting for word of my safe
arrival."

"It's good to have someone."

His quiet comment struck a chord with Nessa.
"What about your family?"

The warmth fled his eyes, replaced by frigid
steel. "My family is not open for discussion. Ever. I'm the one who
asks for information on this ship. I advise you to keep your
questions to yourself."