The Chalice (8 page)

hands.

Kara rolled over, gazing at the ceiling. “Do you think your parents are going

crazy?”

“Don’t have any,” was the terse reply.

Her breath caught. “W hat do you mean you don’t have any?”

“I m ean I’m  an orphan. Grew up in foster homes. Got kicked around ‘til I turned eighteen.” She grinned. “Smart though. Got a scholarship and I’ll get my degree this year— maybe.” Dread’s voice trailed off.

W hat were the odds? Her parents’d died when she was three, leaving her inthe care of her grandmother. Gran had since passed away but she’d left enoughmoney for college and then some, but there wasn’t anyone left at home whoreally cared. She had friends, just no relations.

“Hey, Hanna,” she yelled. “Com e over here.”

Grum bling and irritated, the big woman hurried over. “Vat is it?”

“W here do your parents live?”

“W hen they vere alive, they lived in Stockholm .”

“So you’re an orphan?”

“Ja. But I vas tventy ven they died, so not so orphan.”

“But you don’t have anybody waiting back home?”

Interested, Hanna’s head tilted. “Vy do you ask?”

Kara clim bed on a table, put her fingers to her lips and cut loose with a shrill

whistle. The wom en paused in their exercises and turned towards her.

“Anybody here an orphan?” she yelled. “Raise your hands if you are.”

She raised hers and waited. Every wom an in the room  lifted her arm . Every

woman in the room .

“W hat are you thinking?” Anne pushed through the crowd. “W hy is it

im portant?”

“Think about it. We have all these orphans with no real connections. All kidnapped and brought to this place as mates for the breeders. Looks like they wanted women who had nothing waiting back home. Kinda considerate in a fricked up sort of way.”

“Considerate my ass.” Dread spat the words, eyes flashing with fury. “If they

were considerate, they’d have asked us.”

“I have connections,” Anne said. “I have a fiancé and lots of good friends.”

A large num ber of women voiced the same. They either boyfriends or fiancés,

and one wom an even adm itted having a girlfriend. Interesting!

Kara held up her hand, motioning for silence. “But basically all of us are freeagents. Somehow they found that out besides our ages and the fact that we allspeak English. This wasn’t just random  picking.”

Anne looked thoughtful. “They m ust have accessed our com puter files—the

Internet. Only thing that makes sense.”

She nodded. “Somehow they searched the data and found us.” She motioned

around the room . “Sacrificial lam bs to the slaughter.”

“They’re going to kill us?” Moira wailed, flopping down and curling into a ball.

“I dinnae want tae die.”

Ear-splitting cries rent the air as more women joined in, wailing their terror.

“Girls…girls. Settle down. I didn’t actually m ean slaughter,” Kara hurried to

say. “I meant they went to a lot of trouble to find us.”

“They’re not going tae kill us?” Moira hiccupped, wiping at her eyes.

“No,” Anne stated, brows drawn together in a frown. “They’ve already said

we’re here as mates for the breeders. You can’t breed dead horses.”

“Is dat vat ve are?” Hanna fairly bristled with indignation. “Horses?”

“Another poor choice of words,” Anne smiled. “From  what we understand, we’re here as mates. Keep in mind we’ve been treated well for the m ost part. If mates we are, they’ll have to treat us with som e measure of respect and care.”

“I suggest we prepare,” Ume intervened, impatient. “They will arrive very

soon.”

Kara’s stomach knotted, her heart rate accelerated. Even mention of thebreeders’ arrival caused her anxiety level to explode. “I’ll turn this over to ourstrategist Anne. Anne, the floor’s all yours.” She jum ped off the table, landingwith a soft thud.

Anne climbed up, balancing with careful precision. Calm  and composed, she

surveyed the expectant listeners. “Okay. Here’s what we’re going to do.”

****

Adjusting the Tar’s scabbard on his hip, Tegan inhaled, studying him self in thereflecting orb. W ith a critical eye, he assessed his attributes. Acceptable, hethought, but would his Chalice find him  appealing? He looked as he had alwayslooked, a little older perhaps, but still the same. Uneasy, he exhaled, searchingwithin himself for some measure of composure. Moisture coated the palms of hishands and a small line of perspiration glinted from  his upper lip. Sure signs of thestress he labored under. It would not do for the others to see him  thus. Theylooked to him  to lead them  in this venture, not hide in the shadows.

W hy should he feel so nervous about meeting the females? ‘Twas not like himto cower at the mere thought of m eeting his Chalice. He’d faced the Deg’Nara withless anxiety than he was experiencing at the m oment. Though the females werefrom  a race far beyond the known universe, or so Kormak said, they’d m ade thechoice to leave their home, but it was up to him  and his kind to ease theirtransition into the life of the Chiagan-Se. W ill they grow to appreciate their newstation? He didn’t know, but in the before time, the Chalices com manded as muchrespect in society as did the males and he didn’t foresee that attitude changingsim ply because these females were different. A consort was a consort— no m atterthe outward appearance.

Edgy and restless, he finished groom ing, tying the long white strands of hairback with a braided azurina cord, the only concession to his royal heritage. W ith acritical eye to detail, he perused the final product, finding it lacking. The im agewas stiff, tense. He looked fierce, unapproachable. Angry!

He heaved a long sigh. Loneliness and burgeoning sadness battered his self-control. How he wished his mother were here. She would have soothed his fears,given advice on what he should do and how he should act. She would havelaughed at his pervading sense of inadequacy, pointing out that he was a Princeand a Warrior, destined to lead.

The inexperienced males only had each other to bolster their courage and lendassistance in this unnerving situation. But none of them  knew how to decipherthe workings of a fem ale’s heart. W hat few words they’d learned from  Kormak’slogs were as nothing. Even conversation am ongst the two groups was denied,although Vaux had downloaded language aids to assist in their meeting.

He shook off his misgivings. There was no reason to falter. He was the last ofthe noble Chiagan-Se rulers, a lineage rife with great deeds and uncom prom isinghonor. His duty lay with the living, an obligation he did not take lightly.

The meager possessions he still owned were stuffed in a travel container andreadied for transport. Head high, shoulders back, he marched from  the room . Itwas tim e to gather the males and go forth to meet the Chalices.

****

Ume stiffened, all five feet of her. “They’re here,” she whispered, winged brows

arched over almond shaped eyes.

Kara’s heart jumped from  her chest. “How do you know?” she hissed.

The Japanese girl cocked her dark head, listening. “It just feels different and Ican hear metal grinding like som ething’s moving or opening. I…I sense it— like thecalm  before the storm .”

Her bladder reacted. “I need to pee.”

“You just went,” Dread snapped. “You want to be caught in the john when the

fighting starts?”

“I told you,” Anne adm onished, her face pale and drawn. “No one—and that means you Dread—fights unless it’s absolutely necessary. And then only as a last resort.”

Anne’s haunted gaze stim ulated Kara’s overactive im agination. Not that itneeded any help. She’d imagined just about every possible scenario, evendream ing up a mélange of hideous features the breeders m ight have or thosethey wouldn’t. Wasn’t much else to im agine.

“It’s time to get into position.” Anne’s worried voice broke her reverie.

“I still think this is a bunch of crap,” Dread grum bled. “We should just nail ‘em

while the nailing’s good.”

Kara clim bed on a stool, sucking in large drafts of air to ease the suddenlightheadedness. Her knees buckled, knocking together. Dizzy, she clutched Hanna’s shoulder for support. Fuck my life! W hy’s it my job to be the leader?

“We need to get into position,” she croaked.

“W hat’d you say,” a voice called from  the back.

“I said,” she choked the words out as forcibly as she could, “we need to get into

position.”

Dead silence.

“Are they here?” a voice squeaked.

“Ume says they are. She said she heard something.”

Moans and soft cries ringed the circle.

Anne clapped her elegant hands. “We need to get into position, like we

planned. This will only work if we all do our part.”

“Ain’t gonna work anyway.” Dread spun around, twisted locks flying out as she

stomped to the rear of the room  and sat down. “Just a waste of time.”

Following close behind, the rest followed and settled in, facing away from  the

entrance.

“I still say ve should fight.” Hanna steadied Kara as she leapt to the ground.

“Ve haf no idea vat dees…dees creatures vill do.”

“I know. But we have to give Anne’s plan a chance. Never know. It just m ight work.” Although she doubted it! A sit-in. The best Anne could come up with? Might as well be smoking crack and singing Are You Going to San Francisco for all the good it’d do.

Along with Anne, Hanna and Ume, she took her place at the back edge of thecrowd, sitting down cross-legged, facing away from  the door. She clasped herhands together, rubbing her left thum b with her right, a soothing gestureremembered from  childhood. Probably wear the skin off before this is over.

The floor felt cool beneath her butt, cool and uncomfortable. The skim py bits of

material posing as clothing did little to add warmth. Rolling her hips, she tried for a better position. She hated this—didn’t feel right. Like waiting for the firing squad to take aim  at her exposed back. Wouldn’t even see them  when they came in. But maybe that’s a good thing. Give her time to adjust to their extraterrestrial weirdness.

Muttering oaths, Dread huffed and she slid closer. “Might as well meet my

maker sitting next to you,” she grum bled.

“Thanks. We’ve m issed your tranquil presence.”

Dread snorted, rocking back and forth. “Still say it’s a bunch of crap.”

A whooshing sound behind them  and then the sounds of many feet slapping

against the floor as the breeders entered the room . At least it sounded like feet.

“Don’t turn around,” Anne cautioned. “Stay the course.”

Someone, perhaps Moira began keening, a long drawn out monotonouswhimpering. Kara couldn’t blame her, she felt like bawling herself. The roomvibrated, energized by the waves of terror em anating from  the women. Her

mouth tasted like sand, heart drum m ing fast and erratic. I’m  so scared! Fainting right now sounded like a good idea. She fought the urge to peek over her shoulder, nudging Dread as the black woman’s head started to turn.

“Stay calm ,” Anne whispered. “Stay calm .”

The shuffle of feet halted. Voices—male—articulated incom prehensible words,

sounding…confused?

I want to look! “I think I’m  going to toss.”

“We’re so screwed,” Dread muttered low, gripping Kara’s arm .

Chapter Six

Startled, Tegan gazed across a sea of female heads. Skin and hair of a hundreddifferent shades drew his amazed attention. He’d not envisioned such a vast arrayof colors. Unheard of among the Chiagan-Se. But what were they doing? Theyappeared to be studying the wall beyond, but it was just a wall, plain andunadorned. Hardly worth their undivided attention.

Beneath   his  feet,   Tegan   felt   subtle   movem ent  as  the   ship   left   orbit,program med to depart when the Chiagan-Se were safely aboard. He experienceda slight flash of vertigo and then his system  righted, adjusting to the variables oftime and space. He drew a deep breath, relishing the coming journey, away fromthis place of misery and death. It’d been too long since he’d last ventured into thestars, and the ninth planet of Croum us would take at least half a revolution toreach if all went well. But sneaking through the Deg’Nara’s outpost sensors wouldtake all the skill the Chiagan-Se possessed.

“W hat is this?” Mordaq leveled a perplexed look at the females. “W hat do they

stare at?”

“Perhaps it’s a cultural form  of greeting.” Shagal m urm ured, head tilted as he

regarded the scene. “Though it seems rather unfriendly.”

Vaux consulted his hand-reader. “Nothing about a form  of greeting such asthis. There’s reference to clasping hands and som e sort of mouth touching, butnot this.” He shrugged, mystified. “I have no idea.”