Fusion (Crimson Romance) (19 page)

He quickened their pace. Every moment they had was precious. If all they had was tonight, he’d take memories to the afterlife, memories of her magnificent bravery and intelligent companionship.

Soon they stood in front of their quarters. He opened the hatch for them to enter. After Lyra, the servant girl, and he were inside and the hatch closed behind him, he pulled Lyra into his embrace and kissed her passionately, knowing tomorrow might not come. She responded to his gesture with wild fervor. Only the servant girl speaking to them in urgent tones eventually broke the contact.

“Please, mistress and master, Lyra must don the costume she will wear on the bridge. And the authentication codes must be entered into the room’s computer so she might access them later. Aigean will be here soon, but we must hurry,” she begged.

Lyra backed away from Sol and nodded. Then she turned away and let the servant lead her to the bathing area.

He stood there and offered up a whispered prayer. “Creator, keep her safe. I’ll give you anything you want. Just protect her.”

Less than five minutes after Lyra left to don her disguise, the hatch buzzer sounded. Soldar carefully checked the security monitor and let Aigean and six servants into the space. She hurried forward, glanced around, and motioned her minions closer.

“Where is Lyra?” she anxiously asked.

He closed the hatch before responding.

“She’s changing. I’ll wait until the last possible moment to enter the authentication codes,” he said as he gestured toward the bulkhead computer.

His hostess turned to her staff and motioned one of them forward. This person pushed the hood of her robe back, fully revealing her features. “This is Gentis,” Aigean introduced. “Lyra will be replacing her. She’s offered to bring up schematics for you to find your way around. This is a normal function for new employees so the search request on your computer system shouldn’t be suspected.”

“I’ll reiterate what’s about to happen,” Soldar announced for all those present. “If Lyra’s successful, she’ll be connecting the computer in these quarters with the one on the bridge. Her actions will be hidden unless someone gets suspicious. The weakest link will be at this end, on the computer in this space,” he said as he pointed toward the bulkhead.

Aigean nodded, as did the servants. It was she who answered for them.

“We understand. We won’t allow your quarters to remain empty for any reason. Since someone can access deeper files … until they’re erased or overwritten … we’ll take no chances. One of my servants will lock the hatch behind you when you leave. “However … it’s been decided that if the admiral
insists
on entrance and lives may be lost if the command isn’t obeyed … we will comply.”

He opened his mouth and stepped forward to seriously protest this change in plans, but she lifted a hand to silence him.

“My employees maintain that to argue for your privacy would only increase the Condorians’ suspicions. Their activities in others’ spaces are normally limited to pilfering personal belongings, not to searching for what you’ve been up to on your private computer. It’s for this reason we will plant trinkets and theft-worthy articles within your suite, so as to give them something to take. If they act as they usually do, they’ll ignore everything else,” Aigean explained.

Soldar glanced at each of the servants before staring at Aigean again. It seemed there’d been concern over the matter, hence this new tactic.

“Without any reason to dig deeper,” Aigean insisted, “the computer will only reveal the food you’ve ordered or the conversations you’ve engaged with other passengers.”

“I suppose I see your point,” he slowly relented.

“Quite so. And being accustomed to patronizing performers, my servants will explain there are more employees assigned here because you are my best act, brought here at considerable expense and in need of constant, self-centered attention,” she told him. “In this way, there will still be friends here to watch your computer and divert attention from it.”

“I assume this is the best we can expect, but I hope we’ll at least have some privacy.”

“Unfortunately, privacy depends on D’uhr’s good will. Please him and you’ll likely be left alone.”

“Until he tires of us or the real reason for our presence is known,” Soldar wearily declared.

Aigean ducked her chin in acknowledgement of that fact.

Swiping one hand across his face, Soldar finally turned his attention the servant introduced as Gentis. Her midnight blue skin and white-blonde hair denoted her as a citizen of
Cloton Damatris
. He considered her for some time then rolled his eyes in frustration. “Would someone please explain how Lyra is supposed to pass herself off as a Cloton?”

“The transformation will be dramatic,” Aigean explained, “but there’s a reason for this particular choice.”

“And this is where I hear about it,” he muttered.

“Soldar … the Condorians wouldn’t remotely suspect that the Cloton woman who’s serviced them since the bridge was overrun is now the female who performed on stage tonight. When hiding something, putting it in plain sight is the best course of action. This is how I smuggled goods by the authorities for years.”

He shook his head in denial of this ploy. Passing herself off as a Cloton woman would mean Lyra’s change would take time. That might be time they didn’t have on some evening. There would be other messages to send if they survived long enough.

Soldar slowly paced back and forth. He half expected the Condorians to see through his ruse, never mind Lyra’s, and pounce at any moment. Aigean poured a goblet of wine and stood in his path. The act forced him to stop moving around the room and stare directly at her.

“Drink this, sit down, and relax,” she suggested. “I think you and the Earth woman have been fighting far, far too long. While this mission is certainly dangerous, you’re even more paranoid than I.”

Soldar shook his head at her offering of wine. “I need to keep my wits about me.”

“Then I’ll order my people to serve you only sparkling water or some other non-alcoholic beverage when you’re outside this room. It’s easier done than you think if the containers from which you drink are opaque.” Aigean lifted one index finger and smiled conspiratorially. “In fact, I can give you some of the herbal sleeping powder that my med-tech makes from plants we have on board. While the greenery in our passageways is lovely in appearance and certainly adds to the ambience of the ship’s interior, each species was chosen for its properties in this regard.”

He put his hands on his hips and raised one brow.

Aigean smiled. “One never knows when a general sleeping potion will be needed. Before the Venus was overrun, we used it on customers who were a bit rowdy and needed soothing. Nowadays, if any of my employees find themselves in trouble and they have the time to do so, they simply slip the stuff into the offending party’s food or beverage.” She shrugged. “Of course, these additives take time to work … normally a half hour or thereabouts.”

“And all your people have access to this potion?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re just now telling me about it?” he asked angrily.

She sighed and shook her in frustration. “If one of you is about to be raped, it wouldn’t make any difference. There’d be no time for it to take effect. And we can’t get back to the allied planet where the plants grow, so we have a limited supply. Besides,” she reasoned, “there have been occasions when the stuff doesn’t work at all, so it was pointless to relay such minor details.”

“No, you’d rather we slept with those vermin!”

“You
are
here in the guise of prostitutes. And it
is
in the throes of vigorous sex that my people get their best information. Drugged, the enemy says nothing at all. And we never know when we might get that one vital bit of information that could save lives. So … you see the dilemma.”

Unfortunately, he did. “The Condorians don’t know you have such a potion?”

“We’d be dead if they did.” A wicked gleam entered her eyes. “I’ve often imagined using a slow-acting, horrible poison on them all.”

He snorted. “That’s worth imagining.”

“I know,” she admitted, “and if it wasn’t for the information we get from them, I’d do it. I’d kill D’uhr and all his parasites as easily as I take my next breath!”

“The Condorian contingent would hunt you into infinity,” Soldar murmured. “I’ve heard rumors that many have family assigned to vessels in the same sectors.”

“What you’ve heard is quite true,” she agreed. “D’uhr’s own brother is a commander on a support craft. His son, from one of those forced breeding programs to which Condorian women are subjected, is one of the new bridge crew. Though D’uhr favors men since the whelp was born, the boy is still his pride and joy; brought here to keep him from harm and to see him well pleasured.” Aigean frowned in apparent distaste. “As you say, even if I actually did take my revenge someday I’d be overrun again.”

“Still, the fact you have that kind of sleeping medication might be useful,” Soldar confirmed as he mentally filed the information away. Then he realized what she’d been doing.

The banter of the last few minutes had been purposely engaged. As he stared at Aigean, a sense of amused suspicion now took the place of angst.

“You’ve been trying to take my mind off Lyra.”

She shrugged and patted him on the shoulder. “I thought I was being crafty. But if it means anything, I’ll be at D’uhr’s party tonight. There’ll also be some other guests attending, all citizens from neutral planets, of course. Unfortunately, they were aboard when the enemy overtook us.”

He ran one hand across his face in a weary gesture. Some of the women with Aigean had gone to the bathing area, probably to help Lyra get her audacious disguise ready. The others were busy cleaning and refreshing fruit containers and water.

Now he understood some of Lyra’s torment when she first stepped onto the stage tonight. For hours, she’d been inflicted with waiting for that scenario to take place. Now, he was forced to do the waiting and it didn’t sit well. He wouldn’t know how she fared on the bridge until her assignment of the night was over or she was caught.

Action was best. Fighting the enemy in the field was easy compared to plotting and scheming while moving among foes. Aigean could do it because she’d made it her life’s profession to outwit authority. For his part, he’d never been on the wrong side of the law in his entire life.

He was beginning to hate everything to do with undercover work. This mission was making him painfully aware of the nastier side of allied defenses. It was necessary. He knew it. But it left him feeling as though the ends justified the means. He’d only been ordered into this place because his physical appearance fit the specifications of a male prostitute. He’d been eager to do the job because of his inner need to best a superior force using only his wits.

On previous assignments his team had remained in uniform at all times while employing stealth to achieve results. None of them had ever been asked, until
this
mission, to actually take off their allied armor and pretend to be anything other than what they were. So far, he’d patted himself on the back and had been greatly encouraged by Lyra’s innovative acting and sincerity. Sooner or later, however, their real warrior personae would show. Being anywhere near D’uhr was obnoxious. The admiral’s very presence would exacerbate their disgust. The Condorian would eventually glean his identity and Lyra’s if for no other reason than mutual hatred of each other’s races.

He didn’t know how much longer he paced or how many times Aigean tried to calm him down. Only Lyra’s sudden appearance from the bathing area stopped his wearing a hole in the luxurious, exotic carpets. He moved toward her and was shocked by the transformation.

“If my family was still alive, even they wouldn’t know me,” she sadly uttered while turning for his inspection.

Soldar couldn’t help staring with his mouth open. Her face, neck, and hands were now a perfect dark blue. Her hair was white-blonde. Indeed, Lyra could have been Gentis’ twin. He preferred her as she really was. But her disguise was so well done that if he’d walked by her on any city thoroughfare, he’d have never known her.

“How was this accomplished?” he asked as he turned to Aigean.

“The magic of makeup, dear heart. I’ve had actors on this vessel before. Knowledge of their art comes in handy from time to time.” Then she put her attention on Lyra. “Lyra, this is Gentis. She can show you the map of the bridge and where it’s located. She’ll also apprise you of all the duties you’ll perform in her stead. Once you walk out of this room, Soldar will enter the authentication codes then study the same map for his own edification. I’d have had you both do this earlier, but neither of you was in any mental state to memorize a vessel’s blueprints.” Then she motioned Gentis forward.

The servant girl who was to be replaced on the bridge handed Aigean two vials of white powder. These were only about an inch in length.

“This is the same sleeping potion my crew carries,” Aigean explained. “You should have been told about this concoction while you were changing, Lyra?”

Lyra nodded. She took the vials from Gentis and tucked them within the sleeve of her robe. “It makes me wonder what other little tricks you’ve got tucked away. Conveniently!”

Aigean ignored the sarcastic comment and reiterated the plans. “Get to the bulkhead computer over there, and start memorizing your route,” she commanded as she pointed toward the other end of the living space where the computer was situated. “The walk from here to the bridge is quite simple. You’ll meet other employees bringing food and beverages to the bridge, simply blend in with them. If something should go wrong, and you cannot hack the Condorian security codes, stop what you’re doing and run. But not back to this space,” she insisted. “Remember, for all intents and purposes, you’re a Cloton woman. If the Condorians suspect you and you return here, Soldar will be immediately taken into custody as a conspirator. There are other places where you can hide. Places where Lyra Markham will not be connected to any Cloton servant from the bridge. If you can stay hidden until you can discard the costume and the makeup, you might still survive. Understand?”