Alien Caged (5 page)

I’m in love, at least with the fantasy.  That’s all it’s ever going to be, because even if I could be with them, reality would never be that sweet.  Besides, I’m beyond the age of having children.  No Kalquorian clan, certainly not one of Zemos’ rank, would want me.  Not for forever, anyway.

Elisa knew she needed to stop thinking about fairy tale endings with the enemy.  Sooner or later she would slip up somehow, and others would figure out she felt much too friendly towards the prisoners.  They would see how she softened around them, how she tried to make them smile and respond to her.  Heaven help her if Remington had the least clue.

Elisa slowed as the corridor she traveled emptied into a more populated section of the battlecruiser.  This was the area that contained the living quarters of the remainder of the crew.  Her cabin was only steps away, and yet those last few feet seemed a fearsome gauntlet that stretched farther than the rest of the journey to get here.

As Elisa joined the others coming off day shift and those going out on night duty, she kept her eyes directed on the floor at her feet.  She was careful not to meet any of the stares she knew were trained on her.  She felt hyperaware of the men around her, men thinking of how she was the only woman on the whole ship, the only woman any of them had access to.  It didn’t matter she was nearing 50, or that the corners of her eyes creased heavily when she smiled, or that her breasts sagged a little when she took her bra off.  She was the only female they could hope to have.  Sooner or later, one or more of them would make a try.

Elisa’s heart galloped fiercely as she moved among the dozens of men, old and young.  The few seconds it took for her to reach the door to her quarters seemed to stretch for ages.  But at last Elisa was there, her door opening obediently as it read her retina scan.  She stepped in.

“Lock, no access except for emergency clearance,” she said the instant the door closed behind her.  It beeped its acquiescence.

Elisa pulled the nearby chair and table that made up her dining area so that they stood in front of the door.  If someone decided to break in, the extra barrier would give her a chance for escape.  When she went to bed tonight, she would also lock the door to her separate bedroom and place a chair in front of it.  A butcher knife she had stolen from the kitchen would be near at hand, lying on her nightstand as she slept.

Elisa took a deep breath and sighed it back out.  She took a swallow of her coffee, able to drink it now that it was no longer needed as a weapon.  Tension ebbed from her shoulders and she sighed again.  Another day’s battle was officially over.

Chapter 3

Zemos watched Elisa as she wheeled the midday meal cart into the cell block.  The slipshod guard named Coombs followed her, looking bored and distracted.  Zemos thought Coombs placed too much confidence in the security field’s ability to keep them incarcerated, especially someone of Oret’s skills.  Not that the Dramok was about to complain over getting the chance to escape, especially if it could be accomplished without endangering Elisa.

Oret’s eyes were sharp as he took in the situation.  It was up to Zemos and Miragin to distract Coombs and Elisa so they didn’t notice the Nobek looking things over.  It was overkill for the security specialist to take such careful stock of how the pair moved as the Kalquorians were given their meals; Oret always watched his environment with laser precision.  After three months, he knew Elisa and Coombs’ habits in maximum security better than the two Earthers did.  However, now that the Kalquorians had given up on rescue and were making a concentrated effort to find an avenue of escape, Oret insisted on a couple of days of observation.

The Dramok part of Zemos that didn’t scream to take out their attackers in glorious battle applauded his Nobek’s caution.  For one thing, they had Miragin’s safety to worry about.  It had been the worst luck that they’d been attacked during one of his infrequent visits to the destroyer, leading the gentle Imdiko to be captured along with his clanmates.  Neither Zemos nor Oret were in any hurry to endanger their third’s life.  All precautions would be taken.

Then there was Elisa.  Zemos had come to the harsh realization that they would most likely be taking advantage of her kindness and lack of combat knowledge.  He felt positive they would be forced to use her to escape.  As Oret had said, she was the weakest link in the chain that kept them imprisoned.  She would have to be the bit that broke.

The poor woman, like Miragin, was just an innocent bystander caught up in events beyond her control.  For that, she would suffer.

Zemos eyed Coombs for a moment, performing his own weighing of the situation.  He thought the lazy guard wouldn’t notice a Tragoom snarling in his ear.  The man seemed that dull-witted.

However, Elisa was sharp enough for the two of them.  They’d have to watch her carefully.  She was no fool for all her lack of military knowledge, and Zemos feared she would pick up on any slips they made.

Still, her lack of weapons, her gentle nature, and her small stature made her easy prey should they break free of the containment.  The thought made Zemos ill.  He could almost hate himself for what he had to do.  He should be thinking of ways to protect such a creature, not attack her. 

Miragin had argued passionately against using Elisa in any way, but in the end necessity had prevailed.  He was the first to speak as she approached, smiling warmly at Elisa as she opened the small window in the containment field.

“Here is our favorite Earther, and not just because you bring us the best food.”

Elisa snuck a quick smile at the Imdiko.  She didn’t talk because of Coombs’ presence.  She wasn’t supposed to ever speak to them.  That she had done so when they were alone told Zemos how lonely the poor woman was.

If Remington had been in here right now, he would have screamed and threatened the Kalquorians for saying anything to Elisa.  Coombs didn’t seem to notice.  If he did, he didn’t care.  At present, he busied himself digging in his ear canal as he stared at the floor.  Zemos thought that the man was an idiot.

Zemos bowed and offered Elisa a smile that felt too tight.  “Your pretty face could brighten the darkest night, Matara.”

Her warm look faltered a little.  She cocked an eyebrow at him, her expression plainly telling him he’d laid the compliments on too thick.  No surprise there; Zemos was used to barking out orders, not trying to charm lovely women he cared for.

Miragin chuckled, knowing the social klutzes his clanmates tended to be.  The sound drew Elisa’s attention from Oret as he took the first tray of food from her.  Neither she nor the uncaring Coombs saw the way the Nobek studied Elisa’s disruptor as Miragin drew close to whisper conspiratorially.

“Not quite the poet, is he, Elisa?  Forgive my Dramok’s overly enthusiastic compliments, but do not doubt his sincerity.  Zemos never says things he doesn’t mean.  As for the way he says them, you must remember we aren’t used to speaking to women.  It’s hard for any of us to know what to say to one of you.”

As the Imdiko accepted the tray of food from Oret, Elisa gave him a sympathetic look.  In the hurried conversations they’d had over the weeks, a few things had been established.  Elisa had told the men that she didn’t approve of Kalquor abducting Earther women, which had started the war.  Yet she also understood how desperate they must have felt about being on the brink of extinction.  She’d even expressed sorrow over the rarity of Kalquorian women and the infertility most of them suffered from.

She was such a wonderful person, the kindest, most understanding creature Zemos had ever met.  He felt another stab of sick guilt at having to possibly use her to escape.

As Elisa handed Oret a second food tray, Zemos acknowledged his clumsy attempts at interaction.  “Miragin is our wordsmith.  Did you know he’s a writer?  A very famous one in the Empire in fact, as well as a gifted public speaker.  I suppose I should leave the pretty speeches to him.”

The men had already told Elisa all that, but Zemos chatted in the effort to keep her distracted.  He accepted his food tray from Oret as Coombs yawned.  At first Zemos felt a flash of anger that the man would belittle Miragin’s accomplishments, but no, the Earther guard’s distant look said he wasn’t even paying attention.  He was there in body, but not in mind.  Zemos was certain Coombs hadn’t heard the first word of their conversation. 

Elisa handed in Oret’s dinner.  She would be leaving soon.  With a guard standing there, they had no way of prolonging her stay.  Zemos admitted to himself that it wasn’t just Oret’s recon that made him want to find a way for her to tarry.  Awkward or not, had he been given a real chance, the Dramok would have attempted to romance the lovely Earther female.  Much as he’d been overpoweringly drawn to Miragin in a bar over a century ago, he was attracted to this woman.  If they could escape, if he could somehow convince her to go with them...

Miragin continued to talk even as Elisa readied her cart to walk out.  “I may put words together well, but the pretty voice that does the singing ... well, that would belong to you, wouldn’t it, Matara?  That melody you hummed yesterday is still running in my head.  I wonder what lyrics go with such a happy tune?  I wish I could hear them.”

Elisa ducked her head, smiling again.  The sight tugged hard at Zemos’ heart.  The little Earther didn’t smile nearly enough.  He wished he could do something to change that.  He didn’t mind the mature lines that creased at the corners of her eyes when she really beamed.  In fact, he adored every one of them, an accounting of years passing and wisdom gained.  A young woman wouldn’t have that world-weariness that Zemos himself knew so well.  She wouldn’t know that disappointment wasn’t the end of the world, nor that success meant all would be right forever.  Elisa knew what it was to see life’s newness fade.  She would understand how every moment was meant to be savored rather than rushed through for the next novel experience.  She was perfect.

Elisa closed the hole in the containment field and began to push her cart away in the wake of Coombs’ lumbering.  The guard was supposed to watch her back, not leave ahead of her.  Asshole, Zemos thought before he remembered he was supposed to want slip-ups.  It still pissed him off that the lazy bastard didn’t put Elisa’s safety first.

Damn, he had it bad for the sweet little woman if he wanted her protected from himself.

The Dramok watched her leave with a sense of loss that mere lust couldn’t account for.  The few minutes each day that he saw Elisa raced by much too quickly.  Everything about her was pleasing, from her sweet face to the lovely collection of curves she still possessed.  Looking at the way Elisa’s bottom twitched as she walked away, he noted she continued to lose weight, as those of the crew he had seen all seemed to be doing.  The battlecruiser was implementing strict rationing on the Earthers’ food from the looks of things, though Zemos and his clan were given plenty to eat.  The Earthers went without while the prisoners seemed to be fattened up for the slaughter ... or at least, kept well fed.

They really did need to escape soon.

A pure, sweet tone suddenly startled Zemos, words swirling in the loveliest voice he’d ever heard.  Zemos started and stared after the departing Elisa.

“He is my world/My everything/My warmth of summer/My waking spring...”

She sang, the music pouring from her throat as golden as any sun Zemos had ever set eyes on.  The gorgeous sound filled the brig’s grim space.  Elisa sang, and it was stunningly beautiful.  Even Coombs had wakened from his foggy world to gape over his shoulder at her.  He walked right into the doorframe that led to the guards’ office.  His curse as he went out of the confinement area was a small interruption in the spell that Elisa’s voice wove.

“I had no choice/But to hopelessly fall...”

Elisa had reached the doorway, and as she walked out, she looked back at the Kalquorians, her smile mischievous.  Zemos could only stare at her in stunned amazement.

“He is my world/He is my all.”

She walked out.

Zemos realized he had stepped right up to the containment field to watch her for as long as possible, to hear her for as long as he could.  Shaking his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts, he stepped back and noticed his clanmates doing the same.  They seemed every bit as struck as he felt.

Miragin spoke first.  “By the ancestors.  Not even Matara Oli could match that.”

Zemos was inclined to agree that Kalquor’s most recognized and adored singer might well meet her vocal match in Elisa.  “That was amazing,” he blurted in the understatement of the century.

The Dramok shook his head again, forcing himself to emerge from the magic of the Earther woman’s voice.  He had an escape to plan.  “Oret?”

His Nobek blinked a couple of times as if coming out of a trance.  He snapped to attention and squared his shoulders.  “I need at least that partial field disruptor to get us out of here.  I’m not sure how I can get it, though.  The amount Elisa opens to slide our trays in won’t allow me to reach any farther out than halfway up my forearm.  If I could get her to come closer and open the field at her waist level, there’s a very small chance I could take it off her belt.”

Zemos considered.  “The odds of that aren’t good.  Any attempt would be best made with Guard Coombs as her backup.  Remington would keep her more distracted, but he’s too alert.”