Chapter 3
Miran
Miran couldn’t help but admire the human, even while being absolutely frustrated.
“What have you done?” he roared at both Riff and Sanian. By now, Nerin had dropped him back to the ground, and he’d run to stand behind Sanian.
“Nothing,” Sanian said, backing away and stumbling a little over Riff. He tried to make his voice commanding but only ended up sounding whiny. “You’re the ones who let Nova escape. Not us!”
Lazil, the most agile of the three of them, was already making his way up to the top of the cage. He was tall enough to be able to poke his head into the vent, then he ducked down and jumped off the cage.
“We can't follow her,” he said. “None of us will fit.”
“Where does that go?” Miran asked.
“I don’t know,” Sanian said. “I don’t deal with between-the-floor issues. That’s Inter-Monitor Hikorn’s job.”
Lazil loomed over Sanian and Riff. Anger had made the scale pattern on his head go from blue-green to black. “If you want to continue breathing without medical assistance, find out where that duct goes.”
“Don’t hurt me,” the captain wheezed out. His scaly blue skin was pale, and his eyes were so large they took up most of his head. He pulled a data pad out of his uniform jacket and shoved it at Lazil. “Here, take it! Everything’s on it.”
Miran watched Lazil activate it. There was no personalized lock on it, so he had access to everything as if he were the captain.
While Lazil searched for the ship’s schematics, Sanian and the Fozin backed away. Miran ignored them. It was clear that not only were they not helpful, but they were so incompetent that they’d be a detriment.
“She’ll have to leave the duct eventually. If I had a good sample to go by, it would help us all track her scent,” Lazil said as he tapped on the data pad.
“That would be valuable,” Miran said.
Nerin stepped behind Riff and the captain, cutting off their escape. “I need some of her clothes now!”
Riff jumped, then pointed a shaking hand to a small storage bin on the far wall of the stage.
Miran was the closest to it so he strode over and ripped off the top. Inside were several sets of clothes. They were old costumes, discarded for rags after they became too threadbare to use in the act. He snatched one out and pressed it to his face, breathing deeply.
Yes, there she was!
Reluctantly, he pulled his nose away from the soiled garment and ripped it into three pieces. He tossed a piece to Nerin and Lazil, then tucked the last piece into the front of his armor, making sure it didn't touch his skin. He didn't want to risk corrupting her scent.
Both Nerin and Lazil buried their faces in the cloth and breathed deeply.
Nerin lifted his face and gave Miran a confused look. “She smells familiar.”
Lazil nodded in agreement. “I noticed that. She smells like Hissa and something else.”
Miran had smelled the same thing. “We'll discuss it later. Right now, we need to track her.”
Nerin turned around looking for Sanian and Riff. “We need the captain to lock the ship down.”
They were gone.
“Cowards,” Miran growled.
“Dishonorable,” Nerin agreed.
“What else should we expect from those who would buy a child?” Lazil spat out.
Lazil held up the pad so he and Nerin could see it. He’d lit up the duct over their heads in yellow. It was clear it led off in five different directions.
“We have to keep in mind that she planned this,” Lazil pointed out. “She would know better than to take the vent leading to the administrative offices. That would be a dead end and a quick way to get caught.”
“That leaves four directions,” Miran said, then pointed to one of the vents. “Lazil, take this one. It’s to the gambling area, and it’ll be the most crowded. You’ll have the best shot of the three of us finding her if that’s where she went.”
He pointed to the next vent. “This one leads deeper into the circus area. Nerin, I want you to follow this one. Be careful. The other workers might be protective of her, so don’t trust anyone.
If you don’t find her at the vent, find her quarters.
Make sure she’s not hiding there or in someone else's.”
“The last two lead to either the shops or to the docks,” Miran said. “I don't think she’d go to the shops, so I’ll follow this one to the docks. There’s a lot of shuttle traffic going to and from the Fielden planet below. She might think the planet is a good place to run to.”
“She’d be wrong. That place is nothing but sand and wind,” Nerin grumbled.
“At least she won’t blend in with the Fielden,” Lazil said.
The entire top of a Fielden’s head was clear as their dome fluid could “see” and “hear” everything around them. It would be a startling sight if you’d never seen one of them before. They’d never mistake their human for a Fielden.
No, she had a name. They needed to use it.
Dropping the data pad to his side, he faced his friends and teammates. “They called her Nova,” Miran said. “We need to honor that name unless she tells us differently.”
Both warriors made sounds of agreement, but Miran wasn’t finished.
“It’s important that we remember that she’s afraid of us. If either of you find her, try to trap her in a room. Don't restrain her unless you absolutely have to. She might be like the human Lara.”
Lara had a tragic past that made everyone want to weep for her. The reminder of what Lara suffered, and her resulting fear of males, made Nerin and Lazil grumble with anger.
None of them would willingly harm any of the Decanted humans who are so precious to their species’ survival. They couldn’t help feeling deep rage at the thought of anyone abusing these women.
Miran gave one last instruction. “Everyone stay in contact.”
“Understood,” Lazil and Nerin responded in unison. With a last nod, they all left the room and took off in different directions.
It didn’t take Miran long to get to the shuttle bay.
The Fielden were all almost as tall as he was, but where he was broad, they were narrow and willowy.
Their skin contained no pigment so anyone could easily see their blood vessels working.
Because their planet could be harsh, they all wore many layers of loose clothing, to cover or uncover as they needed.
As Lazil said earlier, she would be easy to spot among the slow-moving crowd.
He made quick work of checking the docked shuttles. It occurred to him that if he was the one running, he might take a life pod to escape.
He tapped the small communicator wrist pad “Nerin, break into the Delight’s systems and make sure we can track the life pods if she tries to escape in one.”
“Do you want me to shut them down?”
“No, keep them active,” Miran said. “It would be an easy capture if she launched in one. We could simply pick her up.”
“The Delight’s system has ancient safety protocols, so this will be easy,” Nerin said.
There was a pause, then he spoke again. “I've patched into the Delight and sent commands to alert us if any of the life pods launch and give us constant updates on location.
I've even turned on the alert light so if she's near one it will draw her attention.”
“Good thought. Try not to trigger a ship-wide panic though,” Miran cautioned.
Nerin made a disgruntled sound. “I know my job. I'll contact you if a life pod launches.”
Miran didn't mean to question Nerin's competence, but the last thing any of them needed was to cause a panic and put the human in even greater risk.
He was about to check in with Lazil when he caught Nova’s faint smell. He froze and concentrated on the smells around him. There was chatter in his communicator between Nerin and Lazil, but he ignored them.
The smell was so faint it took all his attention to capture and track it.
He walked slowly and bumped into several Fielden. The loading dock was becoming even more crowded. Her scent kept getting interrupted by all the other scents filling the bay from everyone else.
She was here, he was sure of it. He was pushing through the crowd, ignoring the grumbling from the Fieldens around him.
He froze, a stronger scent hitting him like a punch to the face. His body heated, and a primal instinct made him want to toss the Fielden around until he found the human who belonged to the scent.
Mine.
The one word and all the intent and need behind it filled his mind. He needed her almost more than his next breath.
She had to be close, but he was surrounded by nothing but Fielden in their loose, flowing garb. She must be hidden among them, dressed in gray to blend in. Somehow, she’d gotten ahold of their style of clothing. It was an effective disguise.
The ship didn’t require the Fielden to protect their sensitive domes, so most of them had their hoods down. Only a few were standing around with their cowls up, obscuring their heads.
He galvanized into action, pushing and shoving through the crowd to rip down the head coverings. The Fielden protested, but no one moved to stop him. In fact, they helped him by turning to watch him move, uncovering themselves to better observe the commotion.
One hooded figure didn’t turn. He pressed his way through the crowd. The moment he was close enough to get his fingers on the fabric, he tugged it back to reveal Nova.
Wide blue eyes regarded him with surprise, her mouth opened a little with shock.
“Please don't fight me,” Miran said as he quickly gathered more of the fabric in his hand. He searched through the voluminous cloth looking for a limb to hold on to. “I promise not to hurt you.”
Her eyes narrowed. and her jaw tightened.
“I won’t give you the chance,” she said, then gave him a cheeky grin and disappeared, leaving him grasping nothing but empty cloth.
***
Nova
Dropping to her hands and knees, Nova left the large Hissa grasping the empty desert cloak she’d stolen from one of the ship’s shops. She didn’t hesitate to start crawling to the nearest shuttle.