Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Ziamee had expected more. When they’d traveled back to her mother’s cave, she’d stared unblinkingly at the forevids.
Where the Haile had crashed was nothing but an ancient crater, no doubt formed by a meteor eons ago.
Everywhere else was flat, forest-covered land.
In the distance were mountains she half expected to be buttes with another stretch of land.
She was disappointed, having hoped for something spectacular.
The image of her father sprawled in the sand haunted her. And yet, compassion couldn’t stand against her fiery fury and cold disbelief. How dare he play Elorach with their lives? Mudya had a right to ask. What else had he lied about?
And all of this couldn’t have happened without her meeting Illan. That male had been instrumental in bringing everything into the light.
She smiled at her mother running her hand down the delicate fabric of a dress.
“This’s beautiful,” she hummed. “Actual cloth. It’s a pity our replicator was destroyed in the crash. Along with the rehydrator.”
Ziamee stilled. “You’ve ordered from them before?”
“Of course.” Mudya smiled. “It was set to an unknown writing when I checked.”
“Well, Illan has made it Durn for us.”
“My thanks,” Mudya said. “The Maloidians spoke their language, and yet, Brac understood them. How’s that possible?”
“With an O.D.I.”
“Then we must get one, too,” she said.
Ziamee’s breath caught at her mother’s eagerness to embrace technology. “You don’t find them intrusive?”
“Not at all.” Mudya offered a soft smile. “We’ve been so disconnected, even from each other, that this will breach the gap.”
“Well, after Coll has healed you, then yes, we can ask him to implant the device.” Ziamee smothered a shudder.
She shouldn’t be averse to it, not with how far advanced the Etterian’s medical technology was. And if it meant she could speak a language without having to master it, then yes. Besides, she’d promised Illan she would. So endure she must.
“Ready,” Mudya said, striding toward the door.
Ziamee darted around her to open it, then ushered her to medical. “Coll, how do we get an O.D.I.?”
He smiled. “You ask for it.” He guided Mudya to the bed. “Please forgive me touching you.” With his hands at her waist, he hoisted her onto the bed.
“We’d both like one, Coll, please,” Mudya said, wiggling to find a comfortable spot.
“Consider it done,” he said.
Mudya fell asleep, peace in her expression. She floated inside the bubble, her hair spilling around her as if she was underwater.
“While the med-E.D. assesses and heals her, please, let me insert an O.D.I.” Coll patted a flip-down bed. “What is your handedness?”
She waved her right hand. He caught her left wrist and lowered it onto the bed with the gentlest of touches.
With meticulous care, as expected of a male in his profession, he sprayed her skin with something cool, then sliced a slit she didn’t feel.
With a flick of his deft fingers, he inserted a tiny square.
After he ran the med-gun over her, he wiped away the last droplet of blood. Two taps, and letters lit up. When he brushed his wrist over hers, she giggled as a tingle shot up her arm.
“Now you can contact me if you need me, milady.”
“Thank you, Coll. And how do I get languages?”
“Which one do you want?”
“Mm, Etterian, Maloidian?” She watched, unblinking, as he flicked through her menu and ordered the protocols.
“Ensa,” he said.
Its meaning popped into her head. “Heart?”
He grinned. “Katac?”
“A staff?” She arched a brow when examples of the weapon flooded her mind.
“Correct. What about sogair?”
She gasped, images flashing along with information about a six-legged creature with crimson fur. It so resembled Seba, except it seemed more lethal with those razor-sharp teeth, not like her lovable friend.
“With the six feet, you’d think it was somehow a descendant of Seba,” she mused.
“Perhaps. We have all the data on such creatures if you are interested.”
Her head whipped up at that reminder. “I’m curious, Coll. Has Brac documented Seba?”
“He has, and the DNA is similar. It is intriguing to ponder how such a species crossed the galaxies.”
“Padya would love to study this.” Sadness tried to dampen her mood, but she’d yet to forgive him for what he’d done.
“Ziamee, are you ready to learn how to wield your dagger?” Illan asked from the common.
She smiled. “I am. Thank you, Coll.” She approached Illan, letting her gaze linger on his pants clinging to those thighs. The way his muscles rippled when he flicked the dagger. “I’m not sure what you can teach me. Keep the sharp end away from me?” She pursed her lips to hide a smile.
“True.” He grinned. “And you did well when the ucdeas attacked us.”
She unsheathed her blade and palmed it, relishing the solid weight of it. “You said you had much to tell me?”
“The king is creating a home for Seba on a nearby battleship. A few of his lima kuu are en route, eager to do this and learn about Seba. With their help, we might locate a female for him.”
She froze, her hand midair. “Truly?” Everything she’d said that was a stumbling block to leaving Vora, he was addressing one at a time until she couldn’t say no. Announcing that she was heading offworld had been for her father’s benefit, even though her heart had twanged in dismay.
“Yes, I said I would ask.”
“You did.” She sniffed, unable to convey what his level of effort meant to her.
“This was not meant to sadden you,” he said, pushing her dagger aside to brush a tear off her cheek.
“I’m happy.” She offered him a watery smile.
“Good.” His voice softened, then he cleared his throat. “Now, as to transferring Oz, we could speak to Brac. Ulta, connect me to—”
“I cannot,” the male said through the common’s speakers. “He has not commed for a while. I am beginning to worry.”
Illan cupped Ziamee’s cheek, indecision crossing his expression. “Port us to the structure.”
Her heart leaped into her throat. Just like that, he chose to trust her.
The moment the tingle faded and they appeared planetside, she slid her dagger into her boot and unholstered the blaster. “What do you think’s the issue?” she whispered.
“I do not know. He would investigate if either of us had gone silent.”
“Then so shall we.” She nudged her chin at the door, a small, mangled hole to the side of it.
He hesitated. “We have to be quiet. Every step might echo down the stairwell.”
She nodded, then waited for him to lead the way. The descent was excruciating. She’d been stomping about in her new boots, but now, when she placed her foot, it took all her concentration to do so silently.
“What’s that smell?” she asked, her voice low.
He gestured with his chin at the wall with yellow succulents growing on it. “Genkoo. It is a Maloidian’s favorite meal.”
“Proves they’re here,” she whispered.
“Indeed.”
The metal creaked under her weight. She froze, held her breath, and listened. Illan continued on as if she hadn’t just sent a crack of sound into the darkness.
“Unavoidable,” he said. “Keep moving.”
The temperature ramped, adding a layer of sweat to her skin. A droplet slithered into her cleavage, making her itch. “Why’s it so damn hot?” she muttered, trying to stop the trickle by smushing her chest armor.
“Maloidians like warmth.”
“Well, I don’t.” She huffed, clamping her hand on the railing for added stability. Hard to do with damp palms. “It’s pretty, though.” She gestured to the yellow bubbles on the rock walls.
“Below ground, Maloid is colorful. Above, the constant and violent storms are in shades of gray and purple.” Illan took the last step onto the stone floor. Beside the open doorway sat a stack of capsules, the kind used for burials.
She frowned. Illan hadn’t mentioned killing anyone. Made sense though if whoever had lived here hadn’t been welcoming.
He peered inside the room beyond.
Her breath caught, tension slithered down her spine… Or was that sweat? She shuddered and took up position behind him. “Hear anything?”
He shook his head and slipped inside. She followed, making slow movements, just in case.
The room was large, like a common with a table at its center.
Against one wall was a counter that housed a rehydrator and replicator.
They looked like recent additions as if the slab they sat on had been carved to fit them.
She trailed her fingers over the messy grooves.
A wall of screens dominated the space, and various doors led off it.
“Where’s Brac?” she asked.
“Let us check each door, see where it heads?” He crossed to the first door on the left, inching it open. “Cleansing room.” Onto the next. “Barracks,” he said and entered.
She stayed on him, peering over her shoulder to ensure no one stalked them. All the doors gaped, making it easier to confirm the rooms were unoccupied.
“I don’t like this,” she said.
“Same,” he said.
She swept her gaze across the emptiness. “It feels deserted.”
“Do you think he was taken out of here?” Illan frowned. “No, I cannot imagine any species bold enough to kidnap an Etterian.”
Bold? That said much about his species. “And strong,” she added. “Unconscious, he’d be heavier.”
On to the third door they went, Illan going first, she guarding his back. That he trusted her to do this showed how far they’d come from their initial meeting. How much she’d changed, too.
Something clattered. She froze.
He gestured with his fingers from the direction he’d thought it had originated. They now stood in the passage. The floor dipped, angling down. He hurried, an urgency propelling him onward.
The air was hot, thick, almost unbreathable. She sucked in breaths as quietly as she could, swapping hands when the blaster became too heavy or the grip too slick with sweat. A length of windows on the left revealed an odd device beyond them.
Illan paused, his eyes widening.
“What is it?” she asked, angling her head to see better.
“I cannot say. Some sort of energy pulser?”