Her Alien Commander (14 page)

Memories of Petros had receded to the extent that she seriously struggled to remember what she had ever seen in her former lover. Certainly she struggled to recall why she’d allowed Petros to uproot her from her home and drag her across several galaxies. He had never aroused or satisfied her the way Phahlen did, though at the time she had not appreciated that there could be so much more. She had always known at some level that he had never treated her well, though she refused to acknowledge that unpalatable truth. What would have been the point? She’d had nowhere else to go.

In contrast, although Phahlen remained stern and unyielding as far as allowing her greater freedom was concerned, he was otherwise kind to her. She had enjoyed more orgasms in the weeks spent in his quarters than she had experienced throughout her entire relationship with Petros. He was demanding and dominant, he expected her obedience, and he made it clear she had no choice but to surrender to him. He would tolerate no less. At the same time though, Phahlen was an inventive and generous lover, and Caria knew she would have submitted to him willingly if he’d only asked her. He didn’t ask though. Phahlen commanded and he took.

He could be sensitive and caring too. Phahlen realised Caria was eating the same meal over and over and questioned her about that. When she explained her difficulties with the housekeeping station,
he programmed several of her favourites in for her
and instructed Private East to do the same. Her eating repertoire was much expanded. Phahlen encouraged her to download literature and holovids and to enjoy her enforced leisure time. He sent Private East to keep her company as often as possible, so although she remained a prisoner,
Caria was at least comfortable.

She was not, however, content. The unquestioned assumption that she was guilty and to be punished for the crimes of others rankled more and more.

She received a reply from her parents, a message of love, hope, and encouragement that caused her to weep for hours. Her sexual awakening might consume her in the hours spent with Phahlen, but for the rest of the time she was miserable and homesick. She longed to see her home and family again, and was convinced that if she could only get the chance, she could quite possibly convince a judiciary tribunal on Earth that she was not wholly to blame for the misdeeds of her former comrades. Caria dreamed of escaping, but Phahlen was too vigilant and the security surrounding her too tight to allow her even the slightest opportunity to escape.

Most disappointing of all, oddly, was her continuing inability to conceive. Caria wanted a baby. It had been her secret desire for years and now it seemed to be within her grasp though she knew she could never consider leaving her child behind if she did manage to get away from Phahlen and the Vahleans. Now that their medical intervention had fixed her problem, surely it was just a matter of time. If she was to make her escape, it had better be before she became pregnant here because if—when—that happened Phahlen would guard her even more closely. He might even return to Vahle with her and leave her there. That idea was unbearable. But if she could escape, return to Earth and forge a life for herself there, then who knew what might happen?

Her opportunity came when she wasn’t expecting it. Private East was with her and they were playing Obelisk as usual. They were on first name terms by now, and he no longer secured her ankle to the chair as she wasn’t considered a violent criminal any more. A member of the ship’s engineering detail was due to arrive at any time to install the housekeeping station in the sleeping quarters, so neither of them was really concentrating on their game. When the door entry system beeped to signal the arrival of the crewman, Todd went to admit him. The engineer had already brought the new equipment that was required and the items were piled outside the door in the corridor. He and Todd started to load everything inside.

Even with an anti-gravitational trolley to help with the heavy work, it took two of them to manage the main processing unit. Caria watched from her seat at the table as they manhandled the awkward device across the room and into the sleeping chamber. Preoccupied with their task, Todd left the door to the outer corridor standing wide open.

Caria couldn’t believe her eyes. She glanced toward the bedroom, but neither man emerged. She could hear their voices
discussing the best position,
then some more bumping and scraping as they shifted the large processor again. It was now or never. She stood, dashed across to the door, and peered out into the corridor.

It was deserted. She stepped outside. No alarm went off; there were no shouts or flashing lights. She knew it wouldn’t be long before Todd came back to check on her, but she had a few moments. It might be enough, if she could just reach an escape pod…

Caria broke into a sprint. The door at the end of the corridor opened as she approached, clearly triggered by a motion sensor and not DNA-activated. Her luck was in because the next one slid open too, and the one after that. She encountered no one on her headlong flight, and made it to the transporter shaft without challenge. Here, though, things started to go wrong. The control panel didn’t respond to her hand, and she was trapped there with nowhere else to go. She had no clear idea of the layout of the ship, but knew that escape pods were likely to be on one of the lower decks. She needed the transporter, and she needed time to search the ship undetected.

Suddenly all hell broke loose. A cacophony of sound erupted from every direction. She had to assume her escape had been discovered and the Vahleans were after her. Sure enough, the lights on the elevator controls sprang to life and she heard the faint swishing sound of a car approaching. On impulse,
Caria flattened herself against the wall beside the transporter doors on the opposite side from that which she had come. If whoever was in that transporter car was headed for Phahlen’s quarters, he might not look in the other direction.

Her luck held again. Two tall Vahlean crew men jogged from the car as soon as the doors opened and set off down the corridor at a sprint. They never even glanced in her direction. Caria darted into the car just before the doors slid shut again. She peered at the controls inside the car but had no idea which deck she needed.

She started to panic and had to take several long breaths to regain control. Her heart pounded so loud she was convinced it could be heard in the next solar system and she was sure she would be discovered at any moment. In a sudden flash of inspiration she remembered that the housekeeping station responded to verbal commands. Perhaps this piece of technology would too.

“Launch deck.” She announced her destination, not even sure that was the correct terminology. It was what they would have called the same location on board the
Luminaire
.

It did the trick, or so she hoped. The car glided into motion, whipping along the maze of transporter tunnels that threaded through every part of the ship. Moments later her little cocoon shuddered to a halt and the doors opened.

Caria peeped out. She was in what appeared to be a cargo hold. She couldn’t hear the alarm down here and crewmen worked calmly, oblivious to the din above. There were just a handful of Vahleans on duty here and all were at the far end of the bay. No one was taking any notice of the transporter. Caria slipped from her hiding place and scrambled behind the container closest to her. She couldn’t read the inscription on the side, and realised that whilst her communicator device, the one provided by Phahlen on that first day, made verbal communication comprehensible, it apparently didn’t work on the written form of language. No matter, she would manage. She had to.

She peeped over the top of the container and scanned the cargo bay more carefully. This huge space also served as the launch deck for off-board
smaller craft and she saw two satellite cruisers secured on the opposite side. Huge hangar doors faced them, closed now, but those would open to allow the smaller ships to exit the home vessel. Caria toyed with the idea of stealing one of the cruisers but decided against it. She had no experience as a pilot, and her engineering knowledge was sketchy. Even if she could get the craft to launch before she was discovered,
she would in all probability crash into the nearest asteroid.

She gritted her teeth and wondered if this had been a foolhardy errand. She should have waited, devised a proper plan, not just made a dash for it the first chance she got. Still, she was here now, and out of Phahlen’s quarters. She had half a chance. Maybe.

She continued her perusal of the cargo bay and her heart leapt when she spotted the life support pods. She had known there must be some, the last means of escape in a dire emergency. The
Empyrean
was equipped with dozens of them, ranged down one side of the bay. She assumed there must be sufficient to evacuate the entire ship’s complement. The closest one was just a few metres from where she crouched. If she could just manage to scramble into it and get the capsule to eject, she would be out of here. There was no saying where she might end up, of course, or how long it would take. But the pod would be equipped with life support technology to keep her alive indefinitely, and as long as she could manage to disable the automatic tracking system,
there was a chance she wouldn’t be recaptured by the
Empyrean
.

She shuddered at that thought. Phahlen had made it clear enough what the consequences would be if she attempted to escape.

Caria checked again. The men at the far end of the bay remained fully occupied with other tasks. She could do this, she really could.

She slipped from her hiding place and edged around the perimeter of the bay until she reached the first pod. Fortunately, the instructions were in diagrammatic form and she worked out she just had to hit a large red handle to unlock the door. She did it easily enough and the hatch clicked open. The sound was soft, but still Caria peered anxiously over her shoulder, terrified she might attract attention.

She hadn’t; the men carried on about their business. Caria counted to ten to make sure, then she inched the hatch wide enough to enable her to clamber inside. The pod was mounted at a forty-five-degree angle and she entered feet first, then reached back to grasp the handle on the inside of the hatch. She hauled it shut, then took a few moments to allow her eyes to adjust to the low level of lighting in here. The system must be equipped with automatic sensors because the lights and dials on the panel in front of her started up of their own accord, and the hatch locked behind her. The whirring of the mechanism was ominous, sealing her inside the small craft.

Caria glanced from left to right. The entire capsule allowed her no more than half a metre clearance, and less than that above her head. She might be confined in here for weeks, months even, and already claustrophobia was starting to take hold.

This had been a bad idea. A very, very bad idea. She needed to get out, and fast. Perhaps she could return to Phahlen’s quarters, manage to convince them she had made a mistake, had never intended to escape. She reached up and grabbed the inner handle on the hatch and tried to turn it. The mechanism wouldn’t budge. It was locked solid.

Shit! Shit, shit, shit.

Perhaps it could only be opened from the outside. Surely not, surely, surely… Caria started to panic. No one knew she was here, she might never be found. The life support would run out eventually, then she would suffocate… if she didn’t die of fright in the next few minutes. She clawed at the hatch above her head, frantic now, more desperate to escape the pod than she had been to get out of Phahlen’s quarters. She’d give anything to be back there now, safely tied to his bed.

Bright light enveloped her. Caria let out a startled cry and huddled as small as she could in the confined space, convinced the small craft was about to explode.

“Out of there. Now.”

Phahlen. His voice was cool, calm, yet undoubtedly furious. Caria shivered and uncurled herself ever so slightly to peep up at him. He glowered at her through the now open hatch. “Caria, do not keep me waiting.”

She reached up to grasp the rim of the pod and tried to haul herself up. “Could you help me? It’s awkward—”

With a low growl he reached in and grasped her wrists, then pulled her clear of the rim. He released her, and she immediately tumbled at his feet in an ungainly heap. He offered her his hand as she struggled to get to her feet, but she refused and managed on her own.

“How did you find me?” Caria was scared as hell, but relieved too. She might have an angry Vahlean jailer to cope with, but at least she was no longer entombed in that wretched escape pod.

“This is my fucking
ship. Nothing happens here that I can’t track. As soon as you activated the transporter we had you.” He leaned in, his expression glacial. “Next time you feel like going on a fucking joyride
,
use the stairs.”

“Sir, I—”

“Save it.” Four crewmen from the security detail flanked him, and one of them handed the commander a pair of metal cuffs. “Give me your hands.”

Caria held out her hands. He seized one and clamped the cuff around her wrist, but instead of just securing it to the other, he spun her around so her hand was behind her back. “The other one, too.”

Caria reached back and allowed him to fasten both her wrists in the small of her back.

“Follow me,” he commanded, turning on his heel and striding away. His men separated to allow her to pass but Caria still had to trot to keep up with him. She almost stumbled, would have fallen but for his hand snatching at her elbow and righting her. He slowed his pace a little, and gestured for her to precede him into the lift. Two of the security guards joined them in there.

Caria expected to be taken back to Phahlen’s quarters, but the corridor that greeted her as the transporter doors opened was unfamiliar. More austere than the deck she knew, this part of the shop was utilitarian and lacked any finer detail. Phahlen remained in the transporter when the two guards stepped out.

“Go with them,” he instructed.