Chapter 30
The familiar beeps and clicks of medical tools should have comforted Nia, but they didn’t. She’d been feigning unconsciousness for a while. How long could she continue the fa?ade?
Once she’d been deposited on a hover bed in the hangar, they’d secured her with metal restraints, making her heart race with panic. She hadn’t dared open her eyes to see what was happening to Mace, but heard the slurs against him, the dull thuds making her think they kicked him while unconscious. It took everything in her to remain limp and lifeless when all she wanted to do was scream and attack.
The hover bed wound through corridors, onto a lift, then back out until she arrived at what sounded like a medical bay or lab. A scanner hummed over her head and torso, all the way to her feet. Someone loosened her Tellusian bonds, the organic metal parting from her skin. Nia resisted the urge to rotate her wrists.
The bed’s restraints remained. A regenerator buzzed, healing the cut on her throat, then the laser burn on her arm. She thought there was more than one person in the room, but no one spoke.
A few minutes later, a door whooshed open and closed. A masculine voice barked, “You two out. You stay.” Feet shuffled, and the door opened and closed again.
“Report,” the same voice demanded.
“The usual, sir,” a feminine voice from beside Nia answered. “Tracker has been removed, ocular implant deactivated. There was a cut to her throat and a laser burn on her arm, which I’ve healed. Preliminary scans showed evidence of recent sexual assault, confirmed by untreated scratches on her other parts of her body.”
“Revive her.”
“She’s already awake, sir.”
Nia’s eyes flew open. Two men stood on her one side. The sandy-haired one with shrewd brown eyes had four emblems on the shoulder of his silver uniform, indicating a high rank in the military. The man beside him wore the black of a medical officer, his features bland and cold.
She swallowed, her eyes going to the woman on the other side of the hover bed also wearing black. The doctor wouldn’t meet her gaze.
From her position, Nia couldn’t see much of the room, but it looked a lab. The smooth, white architecture of the place made a block of ice settle in her stomach instead of being comforting.
“Euphenia Jannex,” the first man said, grabbing her attention. “You were declared missing and presumed dead forty-five days ago along with a third of Elara Five’s medical personnel.”
Her eyes blurred. A third of her colleagues? Almost a thousand people would have died or been taken. Did Ezra make it?
“I’m Major General Forna,” he continued, “also the administrator of this vessel.”
Swallowing the tears choking her, Nia gave him a nod of respect, acknowledging his position. She recognized the last name. The Forna family were benefactors of the Lunar Medical Academy.
He glanced at his PALM, and Nia blinked. A strange disconnect filled her at seeing one.
“I’m here with Slattery,” he said tilting his head to the side. “He’s a specialist. Do you know what that is?”
Nia’s heart raced, her mouth going dry as she stared at the other man. She’d never met a specialist but had heard whispers of them when stationed on a medical aid vessel years ago—those who specialized in interrogation.
“I haven’t done anything wrong,” she said, her voice croaky. The skin of her wrists burned as she pulled against the restraints.
“Of course not, no,” Forna said, his voice an affectation of sympathy. It exacerbated her panic. “We’re here to ask you a few questions.” He gave her a thin smile, and Nia stilled her movements.
“Please contact my family.”
His eyes crinkled in some semblance of a smile. “Perhaps, if you do well with these questions. Until then, I’ll only need your cooperation, and this will be all over.” The fake smile dissolved. “I’ve been in contact with Elara Five.” Her heart tripped over itself. “And happen to know Calvin Autry well. He’d like you returned to him, but understands procedures, of course.”
What the hell was he talking about? She yanked at her wrists. “Tell my father I’m alive.” That was the only procedure he needed to follow.
“In due time.” Forna glanced at his PALM again, eyes narrowing on her. “Do you know the name of the Tell you arrived with?”
Her heart lurched in her chest. What were they doing to Mace? She shook her head.
“I don’t believe you,” he said in a flat voice.
Nia licked her dry lips. “They only called him Commander or Sir,” she croaked, her throat aching with the need to scream. “I never knew his name.”
Forna’s face hardened, and Nia glanced at the specialist. He hadn’t moved, his gaze frozen on her like some sort of disturbing, life-like statue.
“I don’t think you understand the gravity of your situation,” Forna said, reclaiming her attention. “You’re presumed dead. I could throw you out an airlock, and no one would know the difference. What is the name of the man who had you hostage?”
Nia clenched her jaw and closed her eyes. “I don’t know.”
There was silence around her for a moment, making her heart beat faster. Something touched her forehead, and her eyes flew open. The specialist stood on the other side of her, securing a device to her temple with a click.
She gasped. When he leaned to do the same to other side, she saw what he held—an odd-shaped cortical node. Nia shrank back, trying to get away, but Forna wrapped a hand around her throat, and pressed her against the table. The second one clicked in place with a pinch. Warmth spread through her forehead and face, then settled into the space where her spine met her brain.
“There.” Forna said the word like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He let go of her throat to sit on a stool. “These nano nodes are the specialist’s pride and joy. They’ve been programmed with one purpose, to infiltrate the brain and impede a person’s ability to lie. As long as the nodes are attached, the nanos can do their work. Mind moles, we like to call them.”
“That’s illegal,” Nia gritted out. The other doctor stood behind him, looking like she wanted to run away.
One corner of his mouth quirking, Forna nodded at the specialist.
For a second, Nia felt weightless, like she floated in a regeneration bath. Pain didn’t exist, and stress didn’t have a definition. She sighed, happy to relax. Her mind drifted to a safe place in her brain, when her parents were still together, laughing as each held a hand and swung her between them. Nia smiled.
“How do you feel?” someone asked, and her eyes snapped open to find Forna leaning over her. She couldn’t remember why she’d felt threatened by him.
“Perfect,” she murmured, wanting to sleep the day away on this beautiful cloud. Then she screamed when the sensation was ripped away from her. She plunged into a vat of ice water, every part of her prickling in pain. Nia gasped for breaths.
“He can add pain to the process or take it away,” she heard someone say from a great distance. The sensation of needles in her skin turned into knives stabbing her everywhere, not a piece of her body untouched. The blades turned molten hot, ripping her apart with every jab.
A lifetime passed before the stabbing stopped. The bulkheads of the lab echoed with residual screams. Sweat beaded her skin, her clothing sticking tight to her body. Rawness coated her throat like someone had taken a laser scalpel to it. She searched for an escape.
Then it struck her that no time had passed at all. She felt ancient, like years of her life had been sucked from her limbs. Her lungs wouldn’t work, couldn’t take a proper breath. But the pain had stopped, and she would do almost anything for it to never happen again.
“What’s your name?” Forna asked, his gaze focused on his PALM.
“Euphenia Jannex,” she said, her throat raw from screaming. “People close to me call me Nia. You can call me your living nightmare as soon as I get off this bed. I’m going to take that laser scalpel over there and stab you in the head.”
“The Tells have made you violent,” he murmured, but didn’t seem concerned by her threat. “What is the name of the terrorist we found on the ship with you?”
“Mace. He’s a big scary commander, and he’s so good at hurting people, he trains others how to do it.” She hated the words coming out of her mouth but couldn’t stop them. Another rush of relaxation from the nanos had her not hating herself so much.
“What else can you tell me?”
“You should get your receding hairline fixed. There’s been so much advancement in follicle technology. Maybe there’s a correlation between hair loss and the small penises cowardly men. Someone should do a study—”
She gasped, another wave of pain halting her opinions.
“Let’s get focused again,” Forna said after the wave subsided. “Tell me about your captivity, don’t spare me any details. Let’s begin with what this Mace,” he practically spat the name, “did to you.”
“He took me from my home and kept me.”
Forna raised an eyebrow. “What else did he do to you?”
“He ignored me.”
“He ignored you?”
Nia nodded. He’d ignored her for weeks. Bastard.
Forna’s eyelid twitched. “He didn’t touch you?”
“He did touch me.” Forna leaned forward, eyebrows raised as he waited for her to continue. “I liked it and wanted more.”
“Level two,” Forna gritted between his teeth.
The specialist pulled her muscles from her body through her pores. She screamed so hard, her voice disappeared. Her brain disconnected from her spine. She must have blacked out, because the next thing she heard was the hum of a regenerator near her throat.
Her body throbbed, but the pain in her throat receded. How long have I been here? It must have been hundred years since she’d lived with Tellusians. Sweat trickled the crease of her neck and into her hair.
A frantic beeping cut through the haze of pain. The regenerator stopped. When she opened her eyes, the room around her blurred.
“Secure the door.” Forna’s voice came out harsh, laced with alarm.
“It’s Mace, isn’t it,” Nia whispered, her brain still wrapped in fog. “He’s going to kill you. I’m not sorry.”
There was a gasp, then a scream cut short. Nia turned her head toward the door. Mace filled the entrance, his face a mask of rage. Forna stood beside the bed, but something was wrong with him. Nia realized the hilt of a knife protruded from his eye, his left hand shaking. The specialist was already on the deck, dead.
The doctor had stopped a meter from the door, shaking, Mace’s weapon pointed at her. “To the bed,” he ordered. “Release her.”
The woman scurried, tears on her cheeks, and undid the restraints with trembling hands. As soon as Nia was free, she rolled off the bed—and almost collapsed when her feet hit the deck.
Mace was there in the next instant, his arms wrapping around her body to hold her upright. He cupped her face with his free hand, still aiming his gun at the doctor with the other.
“Did she hurt you?” he asked in a quiet voice.
The doctor whimpered, crouching behind the table.
Nia shook her head. “No.” Her voice came out scratchy. “She watched and did nothing.”
Mace made a sound low in his throat, then lifted his hand to her brow. “What are these?”
“Mind moles.” Her hands still shaking from the torture, Nia touched them, trying to find the release, but they wouldn’t budge. “They make me tell the truth.” His eyebrows arched and she nodded. “It’s a lot of verbal garbage, really. Whatever pops up in my head, I say it aloud and—”
He covered her mouth with his hand. “I’m getting off this ship. If you stay, you’re free, but—” He looked around the medical lab. “You’d need to get to your family as soon as possible, off this ship, and I wouldn’t be able to help you with—”
Nia removed his hand, halting his words. Her chest had gone tight at the concern etched in his face. He didn’t want to leave her here, but he’d do it if he must.
“I want to go with you,” she said simply.
His face relaxed, and he nodded. Noise outside the corridor had him tensing once more. “They’re here.” He pressed her against the bulkhead, out of sight from the corridor, then grabbed a device out of his pant leg. A round orb similar to the one he’d used on Elara Five sat in his hand. When he threw it out into the corridor, it didn’t make smoke. Repetitive weapon fire filled the air. Then silence.
“Let’s go.”
Holding onto her hand, he poked out his head. After two heartbeats, he pulled her after him into the corridor.
They stepped over bodies.
“I really wish you wouldn’t kill all these people,” Nia said, not able to stop the words from leaving her mouth.
He gave her hand a squeeze. “It’s what I do, Nia.”
“I know, but I don’t like it. They have lives and families and you killed them all. They aren’t mindless clones or drones. Or at least they used to be before you killed them and that makes me feel awful. But then again, some of them could be horrible like Major General Forna. And the Slattery guy. I’m not sad they’re dead, deranged assholes—”
Nia stopped her words at Mace’s incredulous look over his shoulder. She slapped her free hand over her mouth. He turned around, and they continued. He fired down the next corridor, making their way around more bodies.
Nia tried to focus on Mace’s broad back, but her eyes drifted lower. She dropped her hand from her mouth.
“You have a nice ass.”
“Thanks.” A tinge of disbelieving laughter laced his tone.
“I noticed in the beginning. When you kidnapped me and threw me over your shoulder. There has to be something wrong with me for noticing, right? I mean, you shouldn’t be admiring your kidnapper’s bum, should you? I should probably be psycho-analyzed or something—”
When he cast another look in her direction, she clapped her hand over her mouth again. Amused or not, she had to remember they were in a dire situation and she needed to be quiet. Yes. Very quiet.