Angela Verdenius (3 page)

So why, Alsandair mused, had he reacted so strongly to her?  Why had he said what he’d had? 
There will come a time when it’s just the two of us.  When the circumstances are just right.  Then we’ll see who eats who.
  That was not the reaction of someone calm and thinking before acting.  Someone used to being in charge.

Troubled, Alsandair frowned.  It was something he would have to watch closely.  Being around Molly might have consequences that would bode ill for him and his control.  No female had ever made him forget himself.

He looked up as Molly came into the room flanked by Dr Surnace and Cali, Suzi’s tech assistant.

“This is the weirdest outfit.” Molly gestured to the pale blue suit she wore.  “I was standing in this drying thingy after my shower and suddenly this outfit came at me from some opening in the wall.  This material just appeared, you know?”  She fingered the sleeve of the jacket and raised one brow at Alsandair.  “It sort of came out as one piece of cloth, then simply separated and wrapped itself around me and within seconds I was wearing this jacket and pants.  Weird.”

Molly looked…cute.  Which was all wrong, because babies looked cute, grown women were supposed to look elegant.  But not Molly, their five thousand year old artefact.  She looked cute with her big blue eyes and cupid lips, her curly brown hair spilling over her shoulders in wild abandon.  An impressive bosom swelled against the confines of the jacket, the hem of which barely covered her shapely bottom.  The pants were skin-tight, outlining her legs.  Flat pumps shod her little feet.

Oh yes, she looked cute.  And that was wrong.  It made Alsandair want to see her curves again without the clothes, and that was wrong, too.  She was military property, and he was the military captain charged with her care.  Plus she was the very opposite to what he found attractive in a woman.

Mentally slamming a door on any thought but his duty, Alsandair raked her with an impersonal gaze before looking at Dr Surnace.  “All is in order?”

“Molly is in good health, and has come through the instant recall with no problems.”  Dr Surnace smiled at the woman who stood below the level of her shoulder.  “There will be no lasting effects.”

“She has been given a calming drink so she doesn’t, as Molly put it, ‘freak out’.”  Cali smiled broadly.

Alsandair was taken aback by that broad smile.  Cali wasn’t known for her outward signs of enjoyment.  In fact, Cali was usually the epitome of quiet tranquillity.

“Lucky for you.”  Molly placed her hands on rounded hips.  “Me freaking out is not pretty.  Just ask Wally…”  She faltered, glanced around, and cleared her throat.

Obviously even though the calming medication had worked, she still had emotions close to the surface.

“I thought you didn’t like Wally,” Alsandair said, assessing her mood.

“I don’t.  Didn’t.  He’s a dickhead. Was a dickhead.”  Molly frowned.  “No loss.”  But even as she said it he saw a glimmer in her eyes.

Was she going to start crying?  Not wanting to even see that, Alsandair pushed to his feet.  “The meeting with the General is scheduled for ten minutes time.  Follow me.”

“The General?”

“Yes.”  The door slid open and he stepped out into the corridor.  Realizing that she wasn’t behind him, he turned to find her looking at him with one brow raised.  “Come.”

“You want me to wag my tail or something?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I don’t just blindly obey.  Who is this general, and why do I have to meet him?”

Maybe the five thousand year old female wasn’t without a few problems.  She’d certainly come out of the LSP violently. He had the bruises to prove it.  Plus the memory of her soft, warm curves against him –
no!
   Regaining his composure, Alsandair decided he should show her a little more patience.  It was his duty.  “The General of Narc Military is the head of this operation to retrieve you.  He wants to meet you.”

“And discuss my future?”

“Pardon?”

“My future?”  She said it with exaggerated slowness.  “What’s going to happen to me now?”

“Now?”

Molly turned to Dr Surnace.  “Not very fast on the uptake, is he?”

Alsandair had never seen the esteemed scientist dumbstruck.  Until now. 

“The General will fill you in on what is necessary.”  He stood politely to one side.  “Now if you please…”

“What if I don’t?”  But Molly strode towards him even as she spoke.  Passing him, she muttered, “Doubt I’ve got a choice anyway, right?  Not with the goon squad out here waiting for me.”

Alsandair swung in beside her, two of his soldiers falling in behind them.  “What is a goon squad?”

“Those.”  Molly jerked her thumb back at the two soldiers.  “Your goons.  Your muscle.”

He looked blankly at her.  What strange language was she speaking?

“Your men?”  She sighed.  “The ones who would drag me to your leader if I didn’t go peacefully?”  She laughed suddenly.  “Take me to your leader!  Get it?”

“No,” he replied shortly.  Being laughed at wasn’t something he was used to.  He demanded respect from his soldiers and he got it.  Everyone respected him.  No one laughed at him.

“Whoo boy, you need some humour lessons.”

His mouth tightened.

“Righty-o, then.”  Molly rolled her eyes, but fell silent as they came out of the private corridor and into the main hallway which teemed with Narc Military men and women. 

The style of uniforms were the same but different colours showed what sections the soldiers worked. 

He glanced down to see Molly trying not to stare curiously, but her mouth was slightly agape.  It didn’t take a genius to figure out why she was so entranced.

The Narc Military was made up of humanoids, but centuries of inbreeding with aliens had also produced their own peculiarities.  Some humanoids simply had variations of different colour shadings and textures to their skin - a glimmer of silver with slickness, a shade of blue with bigger skin cells, a gleam of dull green with minute bumps, a pearl colour with a rougher texture, while others simply had the same skin colour and texture as Molly. 

Some of the Narcs had vaguely alien faces, a twist of the mouth, an extra eye, a shimmer of silver hair, a light furring on their skin, extra or less fingers, and other small peculiarities that marked the different alien genes in their background.  But the basic human gene dominated regardless.

He glanced down to see her studying him closely.  Knowing exactly what she was looking for, he simply looked away.  She wanted to know what alien he had in him, but wasn’t rude enough to ask-

“What alien species have you got in you?” she asked.

There went that idea.  “Someone with manners wouldn’t ask,” he replied stiffly.

“Someone who is five thousand years old can be forgiven anything.”  She pursed those luscious -
did he really just think that?
- lips and regarded him.  “A faint silver tinge to your skin.  No horns.” She caught him off-guard by reaching out and sliding one finger down his hand, leaving a little tingling trail.  “Skin feels a little tougher than normal but not rhino hide tough.  No extra fingers by the look of it.  I wonder…” 

Surely to Saturn her eyes didn’t just fall to his crotch!

They had, those big blue eyes scanning him quickly before she looked up to meet his incredulous eyes. 

At least she had the grace to blush.  “Sorry.”

Stiffly he turned his head forward again.

“But you can’t blame me for wondering,” she went on, obviously rallying quickly.  “So tell me.  What alien race?”

The door to the Meeting Room loomed up.  “Your questions can be answered later.”  As the door slid open, he stood to the side and waited.

She waited, too.

He raised his eyebrows.

“I go in?” she asked, quite needlessly, he thought.

“Of course.”

“I was just wondering.  In case.  You know…”

“No, I don’t.” 

“How weird looking is the General?”

He could feel his control slip a little.  No, wait.  That was his jaw dropping a bit.  “What?”

“I don’t want to stare if he’s a little…you know…weird.  It wouldn’t be polite.”

Maybe there was more wrong with this woman than anyone realized.  Alsandair shook his head.  No, he was overreacting.  Of course she’d be a little fearful.  He had to remember what she was, where she’d come from.  Inclining his head slightly, he replied, “He looks like us.  Now go in and sit down, and he will talk to you.”

Molly gave him one dubious look before striding past him, hips swaying and brown curls bouncing on her shoulders. 

Which he shouldn’t have noticed.

Sighing to himself, Alsandair followed her inside, his two soldiers stationing themselves each side of the doorway as it closed behind him.

~*~

Narc Section Five

Visitors Space Station

Deep Space

“This is a stupid idea,” Squiggy stated, crunching through a spliced carrotturnip with sharp teeth.  “Even for you.”

“Thank you,” Cujo replied modestly.  “I do my best.”

Squiggy watched as a robot rolled up to their table, the many shelves suspended above it on little ramps holding a selection of desserts and drinks.

Cujo took a thick slice of bazen cake, the green icing swirling in upon itself then stretching out to coat the entire sides of the cake slice, before curling back and making rosette patterns on the crumbly surface.  The credit camera flipped out of the side on a little flexible arm, scanned over Cujo’s eyes, registered the amount of credit owing, and retreated.  The robot slid away to the next table.

“If you think we’re going to get away with nosing around and finding out the treasure-” Squiggy began for the third time.

“Of course we’re going to find out.”  Cujo chased the icing around the cake with his tongue.  “Damn it.”

The icing reared back but couldn’t evade his mouth for long, and he bit into it with satisfaction.  There was a little ‘eemmpp’ and the icing stilled.

Chewing happily, he glanced around, only to slow down when he saw the spaceship circling outside the glass dome.  Ice white in the blackness of space, it stood out like a periciles pimple on a dynstatic’s scaly arse. 

“Repulsaens.”  Squiggy fastidiously waved his fingers over the damp air cleanser that emitted steam from the tube in the centre of their table.  “Nasty beasts.”

“And what are they doing here?”  Cujo took another bite of cake, relishing the burst of peppermint on his tongue.  “They don’t usually travel so far.”

“Who knows?”  Squiggy waved his hands through the dry warm air now emitted from the tube.  “Who cares?”

Cujo watched as the spaceship docked through the ship landing pad.  Repulsaens weren’t his favourite alien, but they had their uses.  They’d provided him with information in the past.  But somehow their showing up in the more civilized areas of the Sector started him thinking.

And thinking gave him ideas.

And ideas galvanised him into action.

It wasn’t long before he and Squiggy were in the cabin of his spaceship and flying through space at warp speed.  Their destination…

~*~

Narc Military Research Space Station

Narc Section Five

Deep Space

The meeting with the General wasn’t the highlight of Molly’s day.  In fact, she was wondering if it would have been preferable to stay in her tank – sorry, Life Support Pod - s
nort
- than be paraded in front of the General, the Colonel, and the Major.

It hadn’t taken long for the men, resplendent in their spiffy uniforms – and only the Colonel had a green, scaly tinged skin – to inform Molly that her future was as yet undecided.  It appeared that her opinion didn’t really count.  Molly had started off thanking them and being all nice, but any effort on her part was fast disintegrating.  Very fast.  A few more insightful and impassive words from the mighty leaders and then poof! – all gloves were off.  Niceties came to a grinding halt on Molly’s part.  On the leaders’ part there had been no effort to be nice at all.  Just polite.

In hindsight, calling the General a pompous arse probably wasn’t a bright move.  She really had to do something about her temper.  Still, it was five thousand years too late, so why bother starting now?

Give the General his due, he simply looked at her as though she were a mozzie and stated, in his dry voice, “It is understandable that a female of your time would be upset.  However, being a pure human and alive, it was imperative that we got to you first and brought you here into our safekeeping.”

“Gosh, thanks,” Molly said.

“Now we have you, decisions need to be made.”

“That’s a bit of late thinking, isn’t it?” 

Silence filled the room.  Okay, Molly should probably be grateful, but she was getting more irritated by the minute.  And downhearted.  Hell, they’d unearthed her, now they didn’t know what to do with her?  It was more like the politics and science back home every day.  Get something, then go – ‘oh shit, now what?’ 

Like she was some kind of object to be handled, studied and placed safely away.

That thought made her suddenly nervous.  “You’re not going to lock me away, are you?”

The Colonel eyed her like an unsavoury bug.  “We don’t do things that way.”

“So I’m free to go?”

“No.”

“Prisoner?”

“No.”

“But not free.”

“No.”

“Sounds like a prisoner to me.”

“You’re here under our supervision while decisions are made.”

They had just gone full circle.  Again.  Molly sighed. 

“We have been updated by Dr Surnace on your health.  Your character…well…” The General studied the screen on his desk.  “No doubt there will be some issues.”

“You think?”

“It’s not thinking, it’s knowing.”  Either the General didn’t recognize sarcasm or he was ignoring it.  “Your impact will not be huge after the initial curiosity has been raised and questions answered.  No doubt you will fade into people’s memories within a short time.”

That just made Molly feel so good.  Not.  She glanced at Captain Amirov who was standing near the door, his face impassive, tree-trunk legs apart and muscled arms behind his back with his hands loosely linked.  He didn’t meet her eyes, his gaze fastened politely and impassively just above the General’s head, waiting like the good little soldier.