The Chalice (18 page)

His breath stilled. Not rape! He’d been forced to witness the rape and torture of Chaigan-Se females on too many occasions. Brutalized, the few females whoendured the initial attack were m ere shells of their former selves, later slain fordaring to survive. This was not rape! The female was as centered on Mordaq as hewas on her. They were joining, finding solace in each other’s em brace.

He experienced a brief m oment of envy, then bounding joy for his friend. Mordaq—who’d been denied so m uch— found the means to break through thebarrier separating the two adverse groups and forged a bond with the Chalice hecoveted. Even his lim ited experience interm ingling with the females had notprevented Mordaq from  prevailing. There was hope for the breeders.

Sighing, he flicked off the viewing screen granting the couple privacy. “Leave

them  be,” he com m anded the young tech.

Branos regarded him  with more than a little concern. “But aren’t you going to

do som ething?”

“Mordaq and the female are…there is no attack.”

“But…but I know what I saw,” Branos sputtered.

“There. Is. No. Attack.”

Now to the other matter! “W hich females escaped?”

Still engrossed in the now empty screen, Branos’ face flamed. He drew a deep

breath. “The females’ ruler and her attendants.”

“I see.” He nodded, not surprised. Disgruntled would be a better word. He had no time for such foolishness but it was to be expected. “I would do the same were I in her position.”

He scanned the bridge, locating the one he sought. “Shagal, you’re with me.

We go in search of the fleeing Chalices.” He almost laughed then paused,

remembering.

“Vaux, notify me as soon as possible if anything changes with the Deg’Nara

ship.”

“Take   this.”   Vaux   handed   him  the   portable   reader.   “It   might   make

communication a little easier.”

Chapter Eleven

Led by Ume, the women thundered down the long curving corridor, terrifiedthey’d be discovered. From  tim e to tim e, they’d catch brief glim pses of thebreeders but it appeared all the males were occupied with the workings of theship and they’d gone unnoticed in their headlong flight.

Kara called a halt, bending over, hands braced on her knees, panting withexertion. “Maybe we should try the wristband on one of the doorways,” shegasped. “I can’t keep up this pace m uch longer.”

“I know we ran by this frickin’ spot before,” Dread wheezed, sweat stream ing

down her face. “Ain’t no way I’m  doing it again.”

Anne leaned against a wall, struggling to breathe. “Perhaps we can hide for

awhile until we figure something out.”

“So which door do you suggest?” Dread pulled her hair up, tying the locks in a ragged knot. “We open the wrong one and we could be in some deep shit.” She reached under the silk drape and adjusted her thong panties, grimacing as they snapped. “Might be easier to run if we took off these dam n sarongs or whatever they are.”

“I’m  not giving up my dress,” Kara growled, smoothing the rich glossy material.

“Took us long enough to get these.”

“I suggest we attem pt to access one of the doorways.” Ume stepped to a panel and waved the bracelet across it. The door slid open, revealing an empty enclosure.

“Dam n it, Um e! We didn’t make a decision yet. Could’ve been anybody in

here.” Kara stom ped into the room . Can’t believe she’d be so careless!

“And while you stood there making a decision, the breeders would’ve caught us.” Ume made a slow sweep, checking the interior. “I suspect they’ve tracked us from  the m oment we left the women’s quarters. We don’t have m uch tim e.”

“W hat is this place?”

High-backed benches formed long rows facing what could only be described asan altar of sorts. Subdued m usic, flute-sounding or maybe oboe-ish, drifted from

some obscure stereo system . Alien land and seascapes decorated the circular walls, the colors so exotic and vibrant, it was hard to believe they could be real. Beautiful and com pelling. A place of peace and tranquility.

“A church?” Dread plunked her butt down on one of the benches. “Looks like

one to me. Seats are more comfortable though.”

“Could be.” Anne sat next to her, studying the m any-hued scenes with

reverent admiration. “I suspect even the breeders worship a deity of sorts,” she

murmured.

Dread leaned back, planting her feet on the seat in front of her. “Can’t be all

bad if they believe in God.”

“W ho said they believed in God.” Anne shoved her feet down, growling. “I said

a deity of sorts.”

“I grew up in a Baptist orphanage in Japan,” Um e uttered the offhand

comment. “My English instruction began there.”

“Was it a good place?” Kara exam ined an ornate carving near the entryway, tracing the fine lines. The composition of the rose-veined quartz or whatever it was felt different. Warmer, smoother. Like touching heated satin.

Ume shrugged, but by the closed look on her face, the memory wasn’t a happy

one. “It was an orphanage.”

Oops—foot-in-mouth episode. “I’m  sorry.”

She leaned down for a closer inspection. Maybe a breeder but the form  lookedmore delicate than the ones she’d seen so far. More feminine. The still featureswere so intricate and detailed, she almost expected it to speak.

“Wonder how Hanna’s doing?” Anne voiced the question lurking in everyone’s

mind.

“Don’t know about her, but I could use a cigarette. I’m  still hot.” Dread fanned

herself, grinning cheekily.

Kara felt like a traitor leaving the big wom an behind, but had to laugh.

“She looked like she had everything under control.” And then some. Sheesh!

Haven’t seen that m uch action in a long time.

“Yeah,” Dread snickered, “she was under something—something big. I got a

glimpse of the bulge in his breechclout. It wasn’t little.”

“You’re so sick.” Kara m eandered over to the paintings.

The wall m urals were beyond fascinating. Pure talent com bined with thesuperior skills of a master artist lent ethereal majesty to the com plex scenes. Oceans rippling with golden lights kissed coral-hued beaches. Towering crimsonpeaks covered with silver flora reached towards emerald and turquoise skies. Amazing! She wasn’t an expert but nothing in the nature she knew compared tothe settings recreated in these awe-inspiring works of art. They made her feel…

complete. Centered. Perfection beyond anything she’d ever imagined. Were these

real places?

Dread put her feet back up, smirking. “W hat do we do now?”

Glaring lightning bolts, Anne slapped at her. “You can start acting like an

adult.”

The black woman’s eyes closed. “Bite me.”

Disgusted, Kara felt her shoulders droop. “Okay, ladies—and I say that lightly—we need to come up with a workable plan. I don’t think running in circles isgetting us anywhere fast.”

“But we made good time,” Dread quipped, “even if we still don’t know what the

frick’s going on.”

“We wait here,” Ume said. “They will com e and then we will ask them .

****

Tegan consulted a nearby vid station. “They’re in the worship room .”

“Perhaps they felt the need to pray.”

Perhaps! But the images didn’t depict the women worshiping. Rather, theyappeared to be sim ply waiting. Odd location choice but the earlier images showedthem  racing down the corridors with no apparent direction. They’d circled thelower deck of the ship—twice by his last count. Messages flew from  the Artisanswho frequented this area indicating the wom en had sprinted past, but under hisorders, they’d refrained from  detaining the Chalices. The females appearedexhausted but that was to be expected. It is a big ship!

“Do we recapture them?” Shagal sounded strained, worried. He plucked at his

shoulder draping, worrying the fabric for no apparent reason.

“Are you afraid of the females?” Laughable as it seemed, the Artisan’s attitude

couldn’t be described as anything else. W hy would Shagal be nervous?

Shagal drew himself up, eyes sparking with indignation. “I am  not afraid. Though I do not have your caste standing as a Warrior, I was trained as one—aswere all the Artisans. I do not fear the females.” His eyes slid away, his lips

trem bled. “But I was very young during the purge. I’ve no skills where the Chalices are concerned. I barely remember my mother. W hat if I do or say

something irreparable?”

“The Chalices are not so different from  the breeders.” Tegan hoped he sounded

convincing.

None of them  had such skills. As a youngling, he’d been instructed in thepleasure arts by his mentor as was every young Chiagan-Se. It was as much apart of their education as language or physics, but he’d never actually had theopportunity to use the knowledge. As far as he knew, none of the breeders had. They were all as untried and unsophisticated as Shagal.

He entered the transport pod, waving his wrist band across the panel. “Lower

level.” The pod whirred to life and dropped.

“We just need to earn their trust. Once we have that, the rest will com e.”

The pod opened and they stepped into the corridor leading to the Chalices’ lastlocation. Com m unal areas and living quarters were housed on this level as well asthe exercise rooms and the library. If there was a home environment on the ship,this was where it existed. Not the home I remember, he thought, saddened. Homehad been a place of light and happiness, surrounded by those who loved him  andthose he loved in return. Before the dark times, life had been full of prom ise, rifewith adolescent dreams and burgeoning expectations. Pain wrenched his soul,flooding him  with despair. W ould their hopes ever come to fruition?

“We’re here.” Shagal inhaled, blowing air out in a loud whoosh. “W hat do we

do now?”

“We approach them  with caution.” He thought for a m oment. “And do not sm ile.” W hat was it about one small human female that caused him  such anxiety? He felt as the prey did when faced by the predator.

“And no touching,” Shagal murm ured. “I’ve no wish to be attacked. My body

parts serve m e well.”

Tegan laughed, relaxing, am used by the humor of the situation. Two adultmales, both survivors of long years of war and deprivation, trained in thecomplexities of Chiagan-Ra and com bat-experienced were apprehensive aboutconfronting the fem ales.

Sweat beaded Shagal’s brow and upper lip. He wiped a hand across his jaw andthen fiddled with his shoulder drape, adjusting the immaculate folds. “Perhaps itwould be better if we waited for them  to leave of their own volition.”

Tegan secretly agreed, wishing it were otherwise, but tim ing was critical at thisjuncture. His presence was needed on the bridge. “Just open the door,” heordered. “I’ve no time for subterfuge.”

Shagal’s lips pressed together. His glittering eyes deepened to darkest blue. “If

they attack, don’t point the finger of blam e at m e. I’ve warned you.”

Spurred by the Artisan’s growing tension, pulsating waves of pressure rippleddown Tegan’s spine. His underarms felt dam p, sticky. His hands clenched andunclenched. The longer they stood there discussing the matter, the harder itwould be to face the inevitable.

He rolled his shoulders, popping his neck. “Open the door.”

“Just so you remem ber,” Shagal groused. He flipped his wrist in front of the control panel, triggering the mechanism . The panel slid open with a whispery sigh.

Four pairs of startled human eyes bored into him  as they entered the worship

room . He paused for a moment, giving the Chalices time to adjust to his presence. They looked nervous, uneasy. He ground his teeth together, thwarting the urge to

sm ile. Showing friendliness caused them   unwarranted alarm . The thought