Shadower (15 page)

A soft gasp escaped the young woman beside him. He turned to find her staring at him, her dark eyes huge with fear. She shook her head. "No," she whispered. "That's not true."

"Oh, really? I happen to know that it is. Moriah Cameron drugged me, then hijacked my ship. She was here just moments ago." He turned a blistering glare on the Antek commander. "And you let her get away."

"No!" Celie protested.

The leader snorted. "Don't try to blame the courtesan. Her identification was in good order." He turned a crafty gaze on Celie. "
She
was on ship. Maybe she's responsible."

Biting her lips together, she lowered her eyes, offering no reply. "No," Sabin objected sharply. "She's an accomplice to part of this, but I'm positive she's not the one who stole my ship."

The commander glanced at the readout on his portable computer unit. "Your identification checks out, Sabin Travers. This ship is registered to you." He raised beady eyes to Sabin. "But no thief around, no tariff papers. You under arrest." He gestured at the other two Anteks. "Take them."

Realizing resistance would be futile—and dangerous—Sabin went along calmly, although he was raging inside. He knew McKnight would figure out what had happened soon enough and provide proof of his whereabouts for the past fifteen cycles.

But maybe this huge inconvenience wouldn't be for nothing. Now, Sabin had a connection to Moriah— the young woman sitting in front of him on the tram taking them to Control Headquarters. He wouldn't allow this opportunity to slip through his fingers.

*  *  *  *

From his hiding place behind the thruster casing, Radd watched the Anteks unload the crates from the ship and haul them away. Idly, he wondered if he should deduct the time he'd been stranded behind the casing from his charges. Naw, he decided. It wasn't his fault Sabin had gotten himself arrested. Business was business and time was money.

He shrugged, not the least bit concerned about Sabin. He'd seen the shadower get out of far worse predicaments than being thrown into prison. Humming to himself, he headed inside the ship. He had already installed the hidden homing device Sabin had requested, and the thruster repairs were completed. All that was left was to repair the force field on the brig.

Inside, he pried the plate off the brig control panel and studied the circuit boards. Joy flowed through him as he plunged into checking the circuits and their connections. He loved the challenge of unraveling difficult problems, then using his considerable skill to restore a complex system or engine to working order. And Sabin's junk heap offered plenty of challenges. Radd would be kinda sorry to see it go to scrap.

One moment, he was sliding out a circuit board from the panel; the next, he was hauled backward against a firm body and the razor-sharp edge of a dagger was pressed against his throat. Odd, he hadn't heard the hatch tone, or any footsteps.

"Where is the girl who was on board?" a voice hissed.

He remained relaxed. Working around the quadrant as he did, he came into frequent contact with lowlifes and their violent behavior. He didn't even pretend ignorance to the question. "She was arrested."

The arm across his chest tightened and the blade edged closer, nicking his skin. "You lie, serpent. I ought to perform
kamta
on you."

Ah, a Zarian. It had to be the tall, arrogant blonde, Moriah's sidekick. Her body was almost as hard as a man's, except for the lush breasts now pillowing his jaw. He could think of worse ways to die. "If ya cut my throat, I can't give any information," he pointed out.

She eased the blade back slightly, and he felt blood trickle down his neck. "I can do
kamta
without killing you," she growled.

"Whatcha wanna know?"

"Where is the girl?" The voice came from behind him. Moriah, now dressed in a brown flightsuit, stepped into his field of vision.

"I already told ya. She was arrested."

Her eyes narrowed. Stalking forward, she shoved an activated stunner against his chest. "That tells me nothing. Explain, in full detail. Tell me everything that happened, or I'll let Lionia carve you up before I disintegrate your puny body."

Radd sighed. Everyone always wanted
details.
They wanted to turn simple facts into complicated scenarios. "After ya left, the Anteks searched the ship. They found the girl and some unauthorized goods on board. They arrested Sabin and the girl and took them away."

Panic flashed across Moriah's face, and the stunner pressing against his chest shook. Radd wondered if this would be it for him. But she stepped back, the weapon still aimed at him. "Where did they take her?" she asked hoarsely.

"There's only one place they woulda gone," he answered. "The prison." Reason had to tell her that, but he suspected clear thinking had momentarily evaded her.

As she dropped her arm to her side and turned away, the Zarian’s dagger pressed against his throat again. "Should I finish off this serpent?"

"Hey!" he protested. "I told ya the truth. It's not like I'm responsible for this."

Standing ramrod-stiff, Moriah sighed. "No. Don't harm him." She turned and stared at him speculatively. "We need a mechanic. He's coming with us. After we get Celie back."

*  *  *  *

At headquarters, the two lower-ranking Anteks marched Celie and Sabin to a cell. One shoved Celie inside. Sabin started to follow, but an electrolyzer rod blocked his path. "You go to another cell," the Antek rumbled.

Both soldiers were eyeing Celie, practically salivating. Sabin knew they planned a return visit in the near future. He had no intention of being separated from her. "What about your orders?" he asked.

"Commander issued orders," one answered woodenly.

Good thing Anteks were inherently stupid. So dumb, in fact, that those in positions of authority were always mixed-breeds, because only they had a modicum of sense. "I heard those orders," he told the soldier. "Your commanding officer specifically requested that I be placed in the same cell with the female. He plans to question us together."

The Anteks looked at each other uncertainly. "I not remember that," the first soldier said.

Sabin shrugged. "Your commander will be very displeased that you forgot his orders. Better put me in this cell while you go check with him."

The soldiers shuffled their feet uneasily. It was not a good idea to admit to forgetting orders. Harsh discipline would be dispensed for sure. "All right," one Antek finally conceded. "You go in, too."

Tamping down a triumphant smirk, Sabin entered the cell. His elation quickly evaporated as a foul odor assailed his nose. The sludge squishing beneath his feet added the finishing touch to the infamous Controller prison ambience. The Anteks activated the force field and lumbered away.

Moriah's accomplice edged her way to the wall nearest the entrance. Determined to find out more about this opportune link, he settled next to her. "Looks like we're cell mates," he commented.

She jolted away, slipping and almost falling. "Leave me alone."

He reached out his shackled hands and grabbed her arm, tightening his grip to steady her. "Careful, or you'll be facedown in this stuff."

She struggled against his grasp, almost pulling both of them down. "Get away from me, or I'll scream. I swear it!"

He jerked her around and against the stone wall. "Try it and I'll have to silence you. I have no desire to be visited further by our Antek comrades. And if you're smart, you'll avoid that too. Whatever you fear I might be thinking of doing to you, they'll do ten times over. And it won't be just one soldier. Whoever's in the vicinity will want to participate in the fun."

He paused to see if his message was sinking in. Ordinarily women didn't view him with abject horror. But Celie looked at him like he was a demon from the Abyss—right before she screamed. He clamped his hand over her mouth. "Little fool! Didn't you hear a word I just said? No female, human or otherwise, young or old, is safe in a Controller prison. Just imagine your worst nightmares, sweetheart. They can come true right here. I promise you."

She stared at him, her eyes huge, her slim body trembling. "I mean you no harm," he continued. "Look, we're together in this cell, whether you like it or not. You're going to have to trust me. I'll try to protect you from those goons out there, but you have to cooperate with me. I'll release you if you agree not to fight me, and not to scream. Deal?"

After a moment, she nodded. He removed his hand cautiously, waiting for her to renege. But she held her silence. She lowered her head again, a habit that was beginning to irritate him. "Don't," he said, grasping her chin and raising her face toward him. "Always keep eye contact with people you don't trust. And never show your fear."

She didn't resist his touch, and he took the opportunity to study her. Dark brown eyes dominated a classic, angular face. She had a patrician nose and a lush, full mouth. A haunting familiarity nagged at him, and then it came to him. Except for her coloring, this girl strongly resembled Moriah. She was almost as tall, too, although slighter in build. But then, she was young and had not yet blossomed into full womanhood. The similarities were so striking, he realized the two must be related.

"So, Moriah is your sister," he speculated, gauging her reaction. He got his answer in her soft gasp, the surprised look in her eyes. She was too young to hide her feelings, too easy to read.

"How did you know? I mean, you couldn't possibly— Mori's never talked about you."

Not surprising. Moriah would be too shrewd to talk freely about drugging a man then hijacking his ship.
Not to mention seducing him senseless first.
Heat blasted through him, along with the return of the fragmented memories of her lying warm and compliant beneath him.

Today she'd been dressed in that rhapha that had caressed every curve, its low bodice pushing her breasts to nearly overflowing. The emerald color had set off her blazing hair and golden eyes to perfection. Sabin had been hard-pressed, mentally and physically, to keep his wits about him. He needed to get control of his libido, and fast. He would not allow Moriah to cloud his thinking from now on. And he'd use her sister, innocent or not, to obtain as much useful information as possible to lead him to Moriah.

"Your sister may not have mentioned me, but I know her quite well. I rescued her from two Jaccians, and treated her injury. I gave her a lift because her ship was stolen. She repaid me by stealing mine."

Celie's face went white. "She didn't tell us she'd been hurt," she murmured.

"Ah! So she did tell you something, then?"

"She—she said that she'd been in an altercation with some Jaccians, but she never mentioned being injured," Celie replied slowly, her eyes troubled. "I'm sorry about your ship. She must have been pretty desperate to take it from you."

Sabin refrained from airing his opinions on Moriah's motivations. Celie obviously had a strong bond with her sister, and he didn't want to alienate her. He pondered the best way to get her to trust him enough to open up and give him information. The opportunity presented itself a moment later when the heavy tread of boots approached their cell.

"Quick! Sink down against the wall," he ordered, pushing her onto the floor. "Cross your arms over your chest and groan. Act like you're sick and in pain." When she just sat there, he leaned down and tugged her arms across her breasts. The chain from the shackles dangled between her wrists. "Groan," he demanded. "Make them think you're dying."

She apparently caught on to his ploy, because she moaned loudly just as the force field was switched off. The two Anteks who had arrested them earlier lumbered in, hitching up their pants, slobber hanging from their snouts. They approached Celie, their small eyes glinting lewdly. One began to unfasten his uniform, while the other shoved his electrolyzer rod at Sabin. "Get in other corner," he ordered. Celie shuddered and groaned again, gaining the attention of both Anteks.

"I wouldn't touch her if I were you," Sabin said. "She's extremely ill."

Taking his cue, she slid farther down, crying out. "I'm so sick," she gasped. "The pain…oh, it hurts! Please help me!" She thrashed her legs wildly, flinging up muck.

So the little actress was more like Moriah than Sabin had realized. "I told you," he said, moving to the opposite corner. "She started acting like this right after you left. Must have some terrible disease. Maybe Alberian flu, or maybe…Raxis."

Just then Celie tossed her head to the side and groaned some more. "I think I'm dying. Help!"

Raxis was a disease Anteks were particularly susceptible to, and it made them deathly ill. The two soldiers backed away uneasily, and Sabin pressed his advantage. "Yep, all the signs of Raxis, all right. You've got to get me out of here. You can't leave me with her." He knew they wouldn't care what happened to him, nor would they cross their commander's supposed orders.

Ignoring his request, both Anteks scrambled for the entry. As they reactivated the force field and beat a hasty retreat, looking for a healthier victim, he chuckled softly. He strode to Celie and offered her a hand up. "Good job. You're quite an actress. Must have learned it from your sister."

She struggled to her feet, looking down at her slime-covered legs with distaste, "Ugh! What is this stuff?"

"You don't want to know." He leaned against the wall. "Well, all that's left to do is wait."

He felt her stiffen next to him. "Wait for what?"

"For my partner to realize I'm missing and figure out where I am. Then he'll offer proof my ship really was stolen and that I couldn't possibly have been around to load contraband on it. Spread a few bribes, if necessary. In the meantime, you're safe with me. I give you my word."

She looked askance at him, her dark eyes wide. "How will your partner know where you are? Do you get arrested often?"

"I avoid it as much as possible," Sabin muttered. "But where I'm concerned, McKnight usually expects the worst."

"Will he be able to gain your freedom?"