Alien Revealed (2 page)

“Get her back to the medlab and stay with her. Have the heli-jet come back for us.” David kept his eyes on the woman’s face. She remained unconscious, her smooth skin pale and unlined. Without the bright green of her eyes and her unusual tattoos, she could be anyone, or no one, but this was the woman who would make or break his space career.

Lieutenant Yancy grunted an agreement and began to walk the autolift back to the heli-jet, carefully stepping over the uneven ground as he guided the unit. David watched them for a moment and then moved toward his second team. He glanced down at the ground and caught sight of the wet reflection of light on tiny droplets of blood spattered over fallen leaves. Dr. MacPherson must have come from this direction, as well. He tracked the drops as he walked, noting the amount of blood seemed to be greater as he reached his pilots.

“Major, check this out,” Branscombe called to him, her strident voice ringing with impatience.

“Is it the airjet comp?”

“Nope. We don’t know what the hell it is.”

On that cryptic note, David moved a little faster. The blood trail also expanded, as if Dr. MacPherson had paused for a few minutes here. David stepped to one side, careful not to disturb a small pool of blood. Branscombe and the other two pilots stood staring at the ground. The scent of pine hung heavy in the air. David stepped over another broken pine branch and glanced up at the tree canopy as a small shower of pine needles rained down on him. At least a dozen other branches were twisted and broken in the trees above.

The smell of burning plastics overrode the aroma of pine once again, and David flicked his gaze back to the ground near his team’s feet. A puddle of melted plastic lay in a long oval shape, some of it clearly being absorbed into the soft bed of needles and soil. He’d never seen anything like it.

“Is it part of the airjet?” David squatted down to get a little closer to the material.

“If it is, I can’t imagine what it was or why it would just…melt like this.”

David frowned. He knew the personnel on board the airjet, but what about cargo? Had the aircraft contained something dangerous? News on the upcoming mission was tight, and there’d been little explanation as to why a group of interplanetary settlers needed a full flight team for defense. Perhaps what lay on the ground was a hint of why the mission was so secretive. “Any of you got a sample kit on you?”

“I do.” Second Lieutenant Sven Olens, the biggest bruiser David had ever met, pulled a small kit from his backpack.

“Take a sample of whatever the hell this is, and of some of the soil around here too. Branscombe, you got record mode?”

“On for the duration, Major.”

She would have filmed their search and the discovery here. “Any sign of the airjet comp or the rest of the crew?”

“No, but a lot of the wreckage is too burned to ID much of anything.”

“The flames are nearly out. When they called us in, they didn’t expect a long burn or call for firefighters. No one expected to find much of anything. I think the comp is still on board, and further survivors highly unlikely. Do we all agree?”

“Agreed.” Branscombe spoke for the rest. At thirty-nine, she was the oldest pilot applying for the Starforce defense mission, but she was also the best, and his second in command.

“Good. File out and search again for the comp or bodies, but after that I think we’ll hand the rest of the search over to the clean-up crew. Nothing we can do here now.”

“I can’t believe that anyone lived through it.” Lieutenant George Huff shook his head. “It’s amazing, savvy?”

“Damn right.” David looked down at the puddle of Dr. MacPherson’s blood.
She’d survived. And she saw what happened here. Perhaps the psychtech knows more about this mission than I do.

Alinna counted four. Four humans in her immediate vicinity who would have to have their memories altered if her mission was to continue. She grimaced, keeping her eyes closed. Let them think she was still unconscious. Pain radiated up her leg, making it clear that the human medtechs could benefit greatly from Inarrii medical technology. But that wasn’t her major problem. No, she could well imagine how this was going to go when she somehow managed to report in to her commanding officer. To have to call an Examiner down to alter memories…she’d never be put on an active mission again.

Two medtechs stood in the corridor outside her room, performing their various duties. An administrator sat at a desk farther down the hall. Alinna could sense their emotions. Her Inarrii senses might be less powerful than some—she could only sense emotion and not specific thoughts without physical contact—but for her work, emotions were more reliable than direct thoughts and far more difficult to hide. Everyone in the building was hurried, but calm in the certainty of their work. No alarm radiated; no suspicion or dread over finding an alien in their woods projected into the ether. This was a surprise. Her attention focused on the one mind that didn’t seem to belong. He was approaching her room.
No, he’s in my room.

His emotions were clouded, but his focus was on her. She couldn’t wait any longer. She opened her eyes to look at the man now standing only an arm’s length away. Immediately sexual interest flared along her sensitive
L’inar
nerve lines, telegraphing pleasure throughout her body. Tall and muscular, he could have been Inarrii if not for the lack of
L’inar
and for his deep blue eyes. Shortly cropped blond hair, styled in tiny spikes no Inarrii male would sport, and pale skin completed the differences, but his commanding presence and clear concern over her wellbeing attracted her in much the same way an Inarrii male would. He cared, and deep in his emotional psyche, she could sense a returned attraction.

Get it under control,
she chastised herself.
This human will have to have his memories altered, as well. No one can know yet of our presence here.
Of course, if the humans turned out to be a people the Inarrii complement felt would work with the Intergalactic Confederacy, the people here on the Starforce base would be the first to be contacted.
I’d like to be the one to contact him,
she admitted to herself.

Some of her interest must have shown in her eyes. The man glanced away, slight color rising along his high cheekbones.

“Dr. MacPherson, I’m glad to see you are recovering quickly.”

Alinna blinked. Her mind raced. They had no idea who she really was but had assigned an identity to her, one she had no clue about.
I should have checked the god’s blessed comp smart mode the minute I woke.
She cleared her throat, intensely grateful for all those hours translating Standard English. “Yes…what happened? Where am I?”

“We’re hoping you can tell us. I’m Major David Brown. You were assigned to my team and were on your way to Starforce Base One when your airjet went down. We haven’t yet ascertained the cause of the crash, but you are the only survivor.”

She knew him. The realization shook her. She’d listened to that rich, deep voice, seen his muscular body in action from afar as she’d spied on the base. The familiarity made it worse somehow. She’d enjoyed watching him. With his eyes focused on her, Alinna fought the urge to shift away. Inarrii didn’t lie well. Normally they didn’t lie at all. This was one of the reasons that despite looking very similar to humans, Inarrii were restricted to peripheral observation, no contact. Later, if things progressed to the point where a Treaty would be negotiated, their similar features would be an asset, as would their reputation for honesty. Now she had to lie, or at least avoid the truth.

She sat up in the bed, figuring at this point that action was less revealing than words. As she swung her legs out from under the covers, she discovered she’d been dressed in a loose-fitting gown. Her
L’inar
were mostly covered, but she felt the major’s interest sharpen as a few of the stray markings on the inside of her elbows were exposed by her movements. She fought to keep any reaction under control. He couldn’t know his interest was causing tingles of desire to run the curving lengths of her
L’inar.
The sensitive nerves curled and wrapped around her body, the swirls of color on her skin betraying only a hint of how the sensors interacted within her. In males, the
L’inar
rose into tight ridges when they were sexually excited. For females that only happened in fear. In a sexual reaction they heated her, spreading pleasure from her skin to all the most sensitive areas of her body.

Alinna suppressed a moan. It had been a long time since she’d relieved her stress with an Inarrii male. Sex helped them control their emotions—an important ability in a race with telepathic and empathic abilities. Her anxiety at the moment, and the heady male attention from Major Brown, had her weak in the knees. She needed a clear head and struggled for control. She’d just been presented with an opportunity, if she dared to use it. The humans thought she was someone expected to work on the base. They didn’t realize she was a spy, or that she wasn’t even human. She could, for a short time at least, blend in and learn far more than she or her superiors had ever expected to discover about the humans. Meeting with them, working with them, would answer unequivocally the question as to whether they could work together within the Confederacy.

But at the moment, it was too much. Between the stress, her injury and the major’s attention, her senses were on overload. She stood, and the room spun around her. When the major caught her by the elbow as she began to sway, he inadvertently touched the first curl of her
L’inar.
She gasped as pleasure rocketed from the casual touch straight to her core. She clutched his arm, frantically trying to gain control.

“Be careful. You’ve been through a lot, Doctor.” Major Brown’s deep voice increased the tension in her body.

Alinna inhaled, immediately realizing her mistake as she took in the spicy cologne that mixed with his own heady male scent. “Ummm…” Her words stalled. He was truly as tall as any Inarrii male; she had to tilt her head slightly to meet his deep blue eyes. For a moment, she swam in their depths. Neither moved.

* * *

David set the doctor back on her bed where she belonged. The fact that he would rather have kept her in his arms was not lost to him. Awake now, with those emerald eyes looking so deeply into his, he had the sudden revelation that the next two weeks might be far harder than he had suspected. Not only would he have to survive yet another round of psychological testing, but along with the stress of awaiting the upcoming mission he would have to keep every moment of his time with the doctor under control. He would love to taste those luscious lips, test the softness of her skin against his. But she was the one calling the shots in his life. One slip, one moment of questionable behavior around her, and his career would be at an end.

Besides, a question remained at the back of his mind.

“Do you remember anything about the time of the crash? Or immediately after?”

She looked away from him and caught the edge of her medical gown between her fingers, running them along its hem.

He narrowed his eyes at her. She did know something. He could see it in her demeanor, the way she held her shoulders. That in itself was strange. A psychtech at the level she must be to have received a posting on the Starforce base should be well aware of body language, both how to read it and control it. Perhaps the shock of the crash had her off balance.

“Not really. I remember hearing the pilot call out, and the emergency signal. Then nothing until I awoke here, met you.”

There was something in her inflection when she said “you.” “You recognize my name?”

“Yes.”

“You’ve been assigned to my team as psychtech to provide the final psych tests and give the green light on the mission.”

“Green light…right.”

Something just wasn’t right. She hesitated before she made each statement. Granted, she could still be somewhat disoriented from the crash and from the pain medication. “You
are
Dr. Janet MacPherson, correct?”

She sat up straighter, looked him dead in the eye. “Yes, but call me Alinna—all my friends do.” She smiled and the expression blew him away. With her grin came a sexiness that even her fabulous eyes hadn’t hinted at. That smile matched her wild tattoos in a way that made parts of him sit up and take notice.

“I’m sorry, Major Brown.” A young female medtech bustled into the room and touched his elbow. “You’ll have to go. Dr. MacPherson needs her rest. She’ll be released tomorrow, and then she’s all yours. But for tonight, she’s mine.”

David clenched his teeth against the comment that so desperately wanted to escape his lips. He wanted the doctor to be his, all right, just not in the manner the medtech assumed.
Probably not how the doctor assumes either,
he thought with disgust. He had to regain his control.

“I’ll see you then in the morning, Dr. MacPherson.”

“Alinna, please.”

He smiled wryly at her. She would know that sort of familiarity was frowned upon, and he’d served for long enough that a psychtech trying to be familiar with him sent off warning bells. Instead he tried for a foray of his own. “Doctor, I’ll be here at oh-nine-hundred to escort you through the proper channels for outfitting and room assignment, since your things—along with all of the airjet’s freight—were destroyed.” He watched her face carefully, but there was no reaction about the lost cargo. She either knew it was destroyed already or really didn’t care.

She nodded and he turned to leave. At the doorway, he turned back.

“Have a good night, Dr. MacPherson. But if you think of anything about the crash that we should know here, I hope you will call me. Your interlink is active on the nightstand.” He motioned to the small screen on a table near her elbow. “Call me if you can remember anything at all, Doctor, because we are at a bit of a loss explaining what we found at the crash site.”

Her eyes darted to the left, avoiding his. He nodded. She knew what he meant, knew something unusual had been found out there in the woods.

David left the room, clenching his teeth. She was sexy as hell, and she was involved in something. It occurred to him that it was possible she had two missions on the base,
possible
her assignment with his team might be just a cover. After all, his upcoming assignment had been so secret that he barely knew more than the basics. She might be something a lot more complicated than a psychtech.
I don’t need this. Hell, nothing is ever simple anymore.

He paced down the corridor toward the base chemical-testing facilities. Probably it was none of his business. He should concentrate on getting his team through this last round of tests and getting them up there, into space. But it rubbed at him, bothered him the way she’d lied so badly. If she were simply a psychtech, why hide the truth?

The questions gnawed at him until he reached the test lab. Here, he might get some answers, even if it wasn’t his business. Branscombe had a contact in the labs and had promised him some answers on the samples they’d collected at the crash site.

David tapped his compad, now hooked to his uniform shirt collar instead of the flak helmet he’d worn earlier. “Brown here. Branscombe, do you have any results? I’m outside lab one.”

The door slid open. Branscombe nodded at him. She sat on a stool, her long lanky frame crowding a young man in a lab coat as she observed his work. “Lab rat here says something’s wrong with our samples.”

“What do you mean?” David strode into the room and stared at the tall, thin man clicking buttons on gear he’d never laid eyes on before.

“You guys have got to go.” The labtech flicked his eyes up at David and then back to his work. “You shouldn’t be here at all. This lab is off limits.”

“What’s the problem, Harry?” Branscombe cajoled. “You were okay with me being here a few minutes ago.”

“This stuff…” Harry poked at the sample bag of dirt sitting on the counter beside his machinery, “…this stuff is not a known polymer. It shouldn’t even exist.”

David picked up the bag. It looked like a bag of dirt. None of the strange melted plastic appeared to be inside, at least not to the naked eye. “Explain.”

“It’s like nothing I can identify. The comp is spitting out red flags all over the place. I’ve already received instructions to keep silent and report every person aware of this sample. This is bad.” The labtech ran his fingers through his already wild hair, explaining why every strand seemed styled to stand on end.

David set the bag gingerly down on the table. He looked at Branscombe and found the unflappable captain’s eyebrows had almost hit her hairline. “Report to whom, Harry?” David demanded,

The labtech looked miserably up at him. “I don’t know. The security level is so high I can’t even access the sender.”

* * *

Alinna slid out from between the sheets on the medtech bed and put her bare feet against the coolness of the floor tiles. The halls of the facility remained quiet and empty. Her stomach grumbled, the only sound in the stillness of the early evening. Her internal command unit indicated the Earth hour of oh-two-hundred, and she was starving. Her mouth twisted. Perhaps hiding out here and studying the humans wasn’t going to be such a great idea. The cover was perfect. Her initial research on the subject of “psychtech” indicated she would have the opportunity to study the newest human flight team’s emotional stability until she was clear on every nuance. But the food…the food she’d experienced so far was simply disgusting, nothing but nutrient-enriched mush. She hadn’t been able to stomach more than a single bite.

She had to concentrate on her successes. She’d been able to link her internal command unit to the system on the human base long enough to change the records of Dr. Janet MacPherson so that they now bore her picture. She’d read through the dead doctor’s background, all the while blessing the lost woman’s
Lin’thal,
her soul. It went against Inarrii custom to disturb the dead, but she hoped the woman wouldn’t mind loaning her identity for a short while. The Inarrii were here to help the humans as much as themselves, to offer them the protection and support of the huge Confederacy in exchange for some of the human solar system’s material resources, and for a partnership between the peoples. Surely the dead doctor’s soul would find comfort in that.