The Naked Truth (3 page)

But I am never thinking about that again.

Asler sensed the flow of emotion behind him. She trailed him through the corridors toward his quarters. That she followed him despite her apprehension was a very good sign. It meant that on some level she accepted him as an authority, as she would her own military superiors. This was exactly the reason he’d made an effort to be firm about her attire matching those around her onboard the Inarrii ship. Maybe she wouldn’t like him or really trust him, but she would understand she needed to obey him. It marked the beginning of the end of her fear. Her physical healing had helped that, as well.

As they walked, Asler reflected on their first contact. Grabbing her to stop her fall had been completely accidental, but it had immediately opened mental contact between them. Because he was the directing force and had been thinking of her torture, her mind had taken them to the place and time of her capture. But she had shut it down. Surprising. She had the power to close out his guidance, at least on a primitive level. It might make things easier if she had some ability, or it could actually make things much harder. That remained to be seen.

“Ah, this is the prisoner, then?” Salis and one of the security staff stepped out of an adjoining corridor. As usual, his thoughts contained a hint of mockery. Why the man continued to serve when nothing in the Confederacy ever truly seemed to please him was a mystery. Everything and anything might become the target of his sarcastic brand of humor.

Although he had always been a friend, Asler wished Salis had chosen another time to approach the human officer. The Inarrii officer accompanying Salis didn’t seem too happy with his distraction either. It felt, from the disgruntled emotions emanating from her, as though the two of them had been about to engage in the one other thing Salis enjoyed—sex.

“She’s rather pretty. Perhaps this Treaty will have more rewards than a boost to your career.”

“Perhaps you should be on your way. I believe your friend won’t wait for you much longer.” Asler paused at the corner of the hallway to his quarters. Salis would give up in a moment. He really wasn’t a bad person, and he would sense the human’s residual fear. He just couldn’t stop teasing and taunting, using his twisted humor to mask his own personal demons.

The security officer, a tall, strong-looking female with three unusually noticeable scars across her upper arm, stepped toward Officer Branscombe, her curiosity clear in her dark green eyes. Asler felt the human stiffen beside him, her anxiety palpable. When the Inarrii reached out and ran a finger over the smooth skin of her arm, Captain Branscombe knocked her hand aside.

“She might be pretty if she wasn’t so smooth. You might have to work hard to get a response from this one, Kiis,” Salis joked.

“She has no L’inar?” The woman spoke aloud, her security clearance clearly having given her more than a cursory knowledge of human language. Her curiosity’s sharp edge cut through the air.

Asler remembered then—this was the officer who had been wounded in the terrorist attack. Her L’inar had been cut along one arm, a serious injury that rendered the nerve lines on the woman’s appendage useless until she completed a lengthy series of healings, perhaps lasting for years, if they were able to heal at all. “Sergeant Sarina Tariim, this is Captain Susan Branscombe.”

Tariim’s face hardened as she realized who the human must be. She took a step toward Branscombe, but the human stood her ground. Asler watched carefully and noted Salis doing the same. What happened next would be a revealing event for the character of both women. No doubt Salis was caring for Tariim after her injury.

“Did you do it? Did you bring the attack down on us?” Tariim growled at the human.

“I didn’t do anything. I don’t even know who they are. The bastards did their best to kill me.” Branscombe said nothing further, but her posture spoke for her as she clenched her fists and thrust out her jaw.

“But you did lead them to us.” Tariim crowded her, pressing the issue, clearly looking for someone to blame.

“You were strong enough to beat them off. Not everyone they might have attacked could have done it. Would you rather they struck at the civilians?”

“Enough. Stand down, Tariim. Salis, see to your charge.” Asler stepped between the women, the move as surprising to himself as much as to the others. He could see the shock in Salis’s usually guarded expression. Tariim was a dangerous physical opponent, and Examiners did not risk their talents by engaging in violent disagreements.

“He is not my keeper. I am fine.” Without waiting for a response Tariim strode away, her back stiff and the L’inar ridging along her back and shoulders.

Branscombe said nothing, her eyes darting from one Inarrii to the next. He wondered at her silence, but didn’t miss the way she’d slid into a fighting stance, turning her back to the wall of the corridor.

Salis made a small negating gesture, his emotions actively promoting calm in a way even the captain could likely feel. “My apologies, Captain Branscombe. I didn’t realize how this chance meeting would affect Officer Tariim. As you may have guessed, she was injured in the terrorist attack.” Salis bowed and left them, his path the same as the one Tariim had taken.

Asler waited until they turned the corner of the hallway then apologized to Branscombe. “I am sorry about that. It is clear that Examiner Salis is treating Sergeant Tariim for emotional pain and expected that a confrontation with someone she blames for her injury would help her in some way.”

Branscombe straightened. “Whatever.” She stared at the floor, her jaw clenched as she tried to deny the effect Tariim’s accusations had on her. “I’m sorry she was injured,” she muttered.

He sensed the emotion behind her spare words. She meant it. More, she respected Tariim, as if she had spoken with an equal rather than an antagonist.

“Come, we are almost there.” He considered the truth of her last statement as they walked the length of the hallway. Just because she was sorry an individual was injured didn’t mean she hadn’t committed the act. And yet instinctively he had protected her. His instincts were not something he could afford to ignore.

They reached the entry to his quarters. He stopped, giving the security scanner a moment to recognize him. Captain Branscombe came close, but avoided bumping into his back.

“Every entrance is protected by security scan,” he told her without turning.

The door slid open, retracting into the wall, and he stepped inside. The first room acted as both social sitting area and office and included two long low benches, each wide and long enough for two beings to stretch out together. His command console was mounted into a workstation, and there wasn’t much more. He hadn’t personalized the space—this mission had been assigned to him at the last moment when his predecessor, Examiner Kintaar, had been killed in the line of duty—so the walls remained a blank canvas.

He strode toward a bench but changed his mind at the last moment and settled down at the workstation, a position of more authority.

The captain entered the space slowly and sat on the edge of the bench nearest to the door. She didn’t say anything. He watched her eyes darting about the room, taking in the darkened doorway to his sleeproom and the second exit to his private lavatory. Her hands gripped the edge of the bench cushion, but her spine remained stiff. He silently cheered her on—applauding her bravery after her recent ordeal. She would heal.

“Captain Branscombe, you have been implicated in the recent attack on the Confederacy. As you know, you are now under investigation regarding what information, exactly, you gave to the terrorist group Terran Purity, and under what conditions.” He stated it flatly, laying the situation out for her. “All investigations in this matter are being conducted by the Confederacy. Treason—” he paused, looking at her pale face, “—can carry a penalty as severe as execution.”

“Sir—”

He interrupted her with a raised hand. “I am here to determine the truth, and to defend or prosecute you as necessary. It is in your best interest to cooperate with me completely.”

“I have every intention of doing that,” she said through clenched teeth.

“I assure you, we do not use torture.” He watched her take that in, absorb it. “But I will know, absolutely, if you lie in any way or attempt to hide information.” He rose, walked to her. “You will show me every moment of your time with the terrorists.”

“Show you?” She didn’t look away from him, but he could tell she wanted to as her shoulders tilted slightly away.

“When I touched you in the medroom, you flashed back to your cell on the terrorist ship.”

“Yes…” she breathed. “Oh, no…you don’t mean…”

He watched as realization dawned on her. “Yes. I can be there in your mind, with you. Inarrii have the ability, as I believe you may know, to speak telepathically. Examiners can do more, we can walk through memories with others, including humans. All it requires is a touch.”

She wet her lips. Her face had paled again. He watched tiny bumps flash down the length of her skin as fear set in once again. It was an amazing reaction, one his kind didn’t have. He looked closer and saw that tiny hairs on her bare arms and breasts had risen, causing the bumps from her anxiety. His gaze slid only a little farther. Her chest heaved as she took an alarmed breath, and her nipples hardened.

He brushed a hand over the taut skin of her biceps, along the sensual curve of her shoulder to rest on the back of her neck. Her eyes had grown huge, the pupils dilated to the point where they nearly hid the dark blue of her irises.

“Don’t touch me,” she whispered harshly.

“I must. We must know the truth, Captain Branscombe.”

Blackness bloomed between them. She shuddered as the scent of rusting metal, blood and stale urine filtered through their shared senses. He admired her more as he recognized her internal struggle. She fought the desire to retreat, to wrench herself free of his touch. But her determination won out, at least for the moment, and he examined the dark walls surrounding them.

“Where are we?” He tested their contact with the question.

“This is it. This is the room I woke up in when they first took down my shuttle. I was scouting the perimeter but they took out my shields and laser before I even got a good look at them.”

“Had you met any of them before?” Asler whispered into her mind.

“No.” Her mental voice seemed strained but only from fear. There was no way to lie here, mind to mind. She could say untrue words but they wouldn’t match her memories, or her emotions.

“You weren’t hurt?”

“No, not by the attack. Not yet.”

Shadows shifted in the darkness. Muted sounds of approaching feet had her cringing, the reaction enough to ignite his sympathy. He pulled her into his arms. A metallic squeal preceded a blinding light as the door to the dank room opened. Hands reached for her, grabbed at her, tried to tear her away from him. He held on but the mental contact was broken.

Asler opened his eyes, met her gaze. They were pressed together, lying back now on the wide couch. One arm held her tightly to him, his other hand splayed across one of her pert little breasts. Physical contact made the reading very personal, and absolutely accurate. He must have physically embraced her as they moved into her memory, just as he had mentally on the terrorist ship. He had to admit that despite the situation, he liked the feel of her in his arms, the smooth contact of skin against skin. In fact, he liked it enough that she’d be noticing if he didn’t move soon. That was one thing the males of his kind shared with the human males, obvious sexual interest and arousal. She didn’t need that. She needed his strength, his compassion, and she would have it as they found the truth together.

He could feel her conflict, her attraction to him warring with the terror of the recent past. She needs more than sex, she needs tenderness and emotional connection after her captivity. He knew what she needed, and despite the fact that it was his duty to find the truth and deal with it, the urge to be the one to connect with her, for whatever reason, and to comfort her tempted him.

“Move,” Sue growled at the alien. They’d stretched out together like bunkmates, his body weight pressing her to the couch. Damn, he’s built. A quiver of motion shuddered up her back as anxiety flooded her body. He was exactly the body type she preferred, but even for her he was moving along a little fast. She lashed out, shoving at his chest.

“You need to let me touch you,” he breathed in her ear, his hot breath sending electricity straight to her nipples. “We need contact to have m’ittar.”

She pushed him aside enough to slide off the couch. Her ass hit the floor but only for a second as she scooted away from him. “We aren’t having anything!” she snarled. “Certainly not some sort of kinky alien sex.”

He grinned, a slow sly grin of pure arrogance that males of his sort, anywhere, had perfected over the millennia.

She stood, stiffened her back and narrowed her eyes at him. “I won’t be pressured. This is sexual abuse. I’ll demand a new investigator.”

That stopped the smile.

“You will not. I am your Examiner. I regret that your impression of our contact is disturbing, but it is also incorrect. M’ittar is the mind contact we have begun to share.” The grin came back as if he somehow knew some small part of her found the idea tempting. “Not something…kinky.”

She turned her back on him, wrapping her arms around her naked chest, and huffed a breath between her lips. Confusion warred with desire inside her. For a second she’d felt attracted to Kiis. Now she wanted him far from her. He had the powerful sort of physique that she’d always gone for, but how could she want a man when she didn’t even know his first name? And an alien, for God’s sake, let alone her potential prosecutor. Not that something like that would have stopped her before. If she’d wanted something she’d have gone for it.

For the first time in her sexual adulthood she wavered, and the hesitation made her doubt herself even more. The conflicting emotions were strong enough to make her want to lash out at his smug face, even as she realized that she’d felt safer in his arms than she had in months.

“Touching makes the contact possible between our races. The more we touch, the deeper the contact will be. The more certain I will be of the truth. Among my people it is accepted for m’ittar to lead to intimacy as the contact deepens, but it doesn’t have to result in anything more than an embrace if you choose.”

“You just surprised me. That’s all.” Her voice once again let her down, and she hated how much it gave away, how shaky she sounded. When did I become such an Earthbound wuss? she berated herself. Be a marine, woman.

“I am sorry if this surprised you, but I must know what happened.”

She turned to face him, her confusion shifting into anger. He was standing now too, and much closer than she had thought. “What happened? What happened was I was kidnapped, held hostage, tortured and nearly killed.” Her voice wavered and rose in pitch as she continued. “Yes, I did give them information. But I had to give them something or they would have killed me. I gave them as little as possible—just enough that they were sure to be destroyed!”

“Hush, be calm. I understand your pain. Let me help you through this.” He reached for her, pulled her to him.

His arms surrounded her, a gentle embrace offering warmth and support. Never in her life had she wanted that from a man, needed it. She was a military career woman. Why would she ever need anyone to smother her this way? But she leaned into him, accepted his touch and closed her eyes to the past.

He knew she was in pain. Her bones and skin had been healed, but she hurt, deep inside her psyche. He couldn’t stand it, couldn’t let the pain continue, whether she was guilty or innocent. He pulled her body to his, feeling her taut muscles trembling with fear and confusion, even hatred—directed at him or at those who had tortured her, or possibly even at herself. He wasn’t sure. And that was the point—he needed to be sure. But the pain needed to stop or he, too, would fall into it.

He held her close, feeling her cool skin against his. This species’ body temperature ran lower than his, reminding him of the blue-skinned race he’d counseled last year. They hadn’t made it into the Confederacy. Their government had been unable to accept the Treaty conditions, and the people as a whole were territorial and ingrained with a superiority complex that made contact with multiple species nearly impossible without aggression. It had been a terrible loss—for them, for the Confederacy and for Asler’s career. But it wasn’t a choice he regretted.

The humans, though, were different. There were hot emotions under their cool skin. And not all areas of their skin were cool. He could feel the hot points of her hardened nipples even through his chammiss robes. Her eyes, too, seemed to pierce him with heat.

She was biting her lower lip. If she’d been Inarrii he would have comforted her by drawing her into a kiss, a taste of her silken lips. He would stroke her mind and body until she could relax enough to be calm. But she was human, and he could feel her confusion and fear in a complex tangle of emotions. That she seemed to have a hint of interest in him must be ignored in the face of what they would have to go through together to attain the truth. So instead he opened his mind to hers, took her to a place he knew and loved.

Red haze drifted around their bodies as they stood entwined on the black sands of his home. Clear water lapped at their feet, but it was mostly obscured by the red morning fog.

She pulled away from him with a gasp, her eyes no longer angry, but open wide with shock. He held tightly to her arm to keep the contact open, smiling when delight filtered out the surprise.

“Where are we?” Her mental contact seemed as soft as a whisper to his senses.

“My home, or part of it.”

Her eyebrows rose to meet the short bangs of her hair. “An alien world. I’ve wanted to see one all my life.” Her eyes scanned the waters, the red fog and the black sand. “Is it always like this? What is this red stuff? And you have two moons…” Her voice trailed off, then her shoulders drooped. “I’ll never really see this. They’ll take away my space privileges, tie me to some land desk, even if I am found innocent.”

This fear he could not dismiss. He knew she believed it was true, and that perhaps her culture would require it. Unlike his people, they could never know what she truly believed had happened, only what they were told.

“That may be. But we have to reveal the truth, Susan, all of it.” He slipped into the use of her primary name; titles were meaningless mind to mind.

“I don’t know if I can—I don’t know if I can do it, see it all again.” She lowered her eyes. “I don’t want to. They hurt me in too many ways to talk about. They beat me badly, and—”

He stopped her. “Trust me. There will be no pain.” He raised her chin. “We cannot stand to see pain in others. Inarrii must protect, heal.” He stroked her cheek. Her emotions assured him that she spoke the truth, that she feared experiencing the pain again.

She shivered, and a slight hint of the woman trapped inside the victim peeked out of the solemn expression in her eyes.

“Walk with me.” He slid his hand down her arm to clasp her hand. “Let me show you part of my world. There is time.”

They stepped closer to the water until her feet touched the clear waves and fingers of reddish mist grazed the edge of her pettan. “It’s so warm,” she murmured.

“Most of my world is water, dotted with thousands of islands like this one. My home is only a few ridges away. I come here when I need peace.”

They walked for a moment; she studied the landscape, and he watched her.

“It is peaceful. The sand is so soft. I’ve never seen black sand, but I know there is some on Earth, near volcanoes.”

He pulled her to a stop and knelt, drawing her down to the sand. She hesitated slightly but then sat near him, following his lead as he grabbed a fistful of sand and let the particles trickle through his fingers.

“Inarrii are a sensual people. We prefer to touch, even embrace our surroundings. Everything on Inarr feels good.” He squeezed her hand with his, but wasn’t surprised when she quickly let go.

She looked up into the sky. “There are no birds?”

“No. Birds are something I believe are only on your world. I have never seen any. Would you show me one?” Casually he reached over to run his other hand along the skin of her arm. She started slightly but this time didn’t pull away. Something within him relaxed, the tightness uncoiling as he realized she was accepting him much quicker than he’d expected. The incredible gift of m’ittar had blessed them again. By bringing her to a place of his personal peace, he’d fulfilled her desire to see an alien world and had reached her in a way no other action could have. The gods blessed his mission.

He studied her as she scanned the horizon. Her smooth skin, naked of Inarrii L’inar, was intensely appealing. He swallowed as he realized that his need to comfort her was gone, satisfied as she relaxed and put aside her pain, but his desire for her was steadily increasing. The mission might be blessed, but that didn’t mean it would be easy. He must put aside his sensuality and concentrate on finding the truth.

It was clear that her vulnerability, so appealing to his protective nature, was caused by her recent captivity. He’d read Agent Alinna Gaerrii’s reports carefully as she’d met Captain Branscombe and they had indicated a strong, independent personality not given to hesitation or timid behavior. The change pointed to innocence, unless she had somehow fooled the Inarrii Agent. However unlikely that might seem, it was still something to watch for, especially considering how easily she was adapting to m’ittar. Her mind was very strong, and she was learning fast. Intelligence, beauty, vulnerability—no, the mission wouldn’t be easy.

“How can I show you?”

He shook his head, her words confused for a moment with his more immediate desire. Clamping down on his response, he thanks the gods he’d left his chammiss robes on or she might have noticed the slight thickening of his L’inar as he responded to her in a way she would surely feel inappropriate. He must retain control over his attraction. He had a duty to perform and even if his initial assessment told him she was innocent, he must find the proof and be absolutely certain. Everything hinged upon that.

“Remember a bird, one you observed on your home world. That’s what this is, a memory. I am not imagining this place, I am remembering it and sharing that memory with you. Just remember a time when you saw a bird in flight, and I will guide you in sharing that moment.”

She hesitated, then closed her eyes. It wasn’t necessary for her to close them, but he wasn’t about to interrupt her when she was trusting him, trying something new. A bird would surely have innocent associations for her and relax her further.

“When I was young I would hike with a friend out of the city. We would stay out, sometimes overnight. When you get far enough away from the buildings there are more animals than just the usual city pests. There are seagulls.”

Asler sucked in a breath as the terrain changed around them. He didn’t have to help her. As Agent Gaerrii had reported, human m’ittar was stronger than anyone might have anticipated. From the beautiful coastal shoreline of his home, their surroundings morphed into a scrubby wasteland, tainted with the hint of city pollution. There were patches of green—long grass and thorny bushes. It wasn’t what he had expected. Susan must have grown up in one of the heavily overpopulated inner-continent cities. This patch of empty land would be all there was before another city began.

“You call them seagulls, but you are far from the sea?”

“They used to live mostly near the sea. Now they’re everywhere and can survive by feeding on almost anything. They survived when even the vultures died. They’re scavengers, but still beautiful, in their way.”

A slight breeze brushed Asler’s face, and he looked up to see a large bird, white and gray with yellow feet and a strong beak; its wings pumped the air as it maneuvered to land not far from him. He found himself shifting uncomfortably under the creature’s beady gaze. Perhaps it would eat him if the chance arose.

“There were bluejays too.” Her mental voice reflected a hidden amusement at his reaction. The seagull faded away, replaced by a smaller bright blue bird with feathers tipped in white and black. It let out a little shriek and flitted away, leaving behind a light blue feather which drifted softly to the ground.

Asler reached down and picked it up.

“I’d forgotten about the feather. I kept it for a long time.” She looked at it and then at their clasped hands. “Is all of this really happening?”

“The birds, this place—they are memories. What happens between us when we talk, that is really happening right now.”

“It’s like a dream. Or like the last two months were a dream.” Despair laced her mental voice. “A nightmare.”

Asler pulled her close. The embrace, intended only for a moment’s comfort, seemed to be what she had been waiting for. Tears pooled in her eyes and spilled over her cheeks in fat droplets. The urge to comfort was overwhelming, enough that he could not stop the way his hand began to stroke her back, caressing L’inar she didn’t have, or halt the kiss that moved his lips over hers in a gentle possession.

“Wait…” Her despair scattered by the surprise of his actions, Susan began to pull away. The beautiful flush of her skin reminded him that humans didn’t expect these actions from a superior, or require them for comfort.

“I apologize. Inarrii comfort each other this way. I forgot for a moment you were not…”

“Not Inarrii.” Her body did not stiffen with alarm as Asler expected. She actually relaxed, responding to either his kiss or his words just as a troubled Inarrii would. Now he was the one confused, but also relieved as he acknowledged to himself that he might have made a serious blunder with her case if that had not been her reaction.

Perhaps, for her, sensuality could be a key to trust and a deeper contact, just as it would with an Inarrii. With that thought he brought them back to the black sands of his home world.

“You are very tense. I would ask you to relax, but I know that words are never enough. Allow me to deepen our m’ittar. I can only do this through contact.”