Alien Mine (29 page)

"Yes," he said as if they were discussing the weather.

"When? How?" she asked, not sure she wanted an answer.

"We captured a raider and implanted him. He could speak rudimentary standard galactic after only a few minutes," he said matter-of-factly, as if he hadn't just confessed to doing experiments on humans.

She moved between gratification at having her questions answered and horror at what he told her. Her mouth opened and closed but no words emerged. The casual disregard for human life settled over her like a heavy shroud. "How can you do something so terrible and not even be sorry?" she asked, her voice a mere whisper. "What did you do with him after you implanted him?" Somehow, she knew what his answer would be.

"I killed him." No hesitation.

"That's murder." She stumbled back from him, her back landing against the cave wall with a small thud. Horror clawed through her flesh, creeping into her very bones. Somehow learning that they experimented on and killed raiders was much more horrifying than them taking on a raider camp and killing hundreds.

He grabbed her and pulled her tight against him. She lifted her hands to brace them on his shoulders, only to jerk back when she touched his wound.

"Don't you ever move away from me like that." One of his hands clasped the back of her neck as the other spread over her back. Claws pressed against her skin. "Never move away from me." He drew her closer again.

"But--your wound."

Ignoring her concern for his wound, he continued, "He hurt many women. Our probes watched his camp for a long time. We made sure we took a very bad human."

"And you think that makes it okay?" Still, she wondered if he killed the man because he had their technology in his head rather than punishing him for the atrocities he'd committed.

"We saved some women from him," he said, as if saving women justified murder.

For heaven's sake, he experimented on a man then killed him. And she was even worse because she almost accepted his actions.

"What did you do with the women?"

Lately, the main topic of discussion around the cell at night was finding women. Azagor especially speculated on where to find good breeders. She seriously dreaded the moment one of the others would appear with a woman they'd stolen. Zurian might not say much, but she didn't doubt he'd act on his interest. And he'd been disappearing for short periods lately.

"We left them outside town."

He obviously had no further interest in them. She prayed the other warriors felt the same way. Still, she couldn't forget the casual way he'd admitted to murder.

"On Earth, we have a saying. 'Two wrongs don't make a right.'"

"That does not make sense."

"It means you can't make up for a wrong doing with another wrong doing. It's wrong to kidnap a man and experiment on him, even if he's a bad man. Lowering yourself to his level doesn't make it right. It only makes you as bad as he is."

He growled at her, the scary growl that made her want to run and hide. "I'm a warrior with omgraz'ra."

"You can't justify murder."

"The probes showed that raider raped four women before we got to the camp and took him."

"He should have been dealt with by the Police."

He snorted. "Your police are too scared to go near the raider camps."

"You do realize if you keep going after the raiders, it's only a matter of time before someone catches you and broadcasts it for the whole world to see."

"Humans are weak and we go camouflaged." His body, his voice, showed his extreme contempt for human adversaries.

"How do you get to the camps?"

"We walk."

"Some of them are hundreds of miles away." Every time she asked him he dodged the question or tried to make her believe they walked.

Natalie looked to the side where she'd left the club against the wall, seriously tempted. "We're getting off the subject. We were talking about my implant. If you could, would you have programmed the implant to translate the old language?"

"No," he said with no hesitation.

She stepped away from him, turned to hide her reaction, and pretended to study the gleaming silver panel set in the wall that they'd installed at every entrance. "I see," she said. She searched for an argument that might sway him then turned back to him. "Did your mother have the old language implanted?"

His whole body seemed to tighten, vibrating like a weapon about to go off. He took a step back. It was the first time since she set eyes on him that he'd distanced himself from her. His claws lengthened. "To ensure our planet's safety, no breeder is implanted with the old language. It is too complicated to be taught and takes decades to master. By the time they master it, we can be assured of their loyalty."

"So you don't learn it from your mothers?"

What a strange culture. She'd hate to be that distanced from her children. Instinctively, she laid a protective hand over her stomach, but quickly fisted it and dropped it when his eyes followed the betraying movement.

"We are born with the knowledge of our language."

"That's incredible." Would their children be born with a language she couldn't understand? What other knowledge were they born with? "The women on your planet must be terribly unhappy."

They were second class citizens, unable to even understand the language of the planet they lived on. She wanted to cup both hands over her stomach again, but didn't dare. If it was possible to have a girl, what kind of life did she have in such a society?

"No warrior worth his salt would allow his breeder to be unhappy."

Zacar widened his stance and appeared relaxed, with his arms hanging loose at his sides. But she noticed that his hands slowly, very slowly closed, and wondered if he hid claws in those loose fists. From that first day when they all saluted her, none of them ever lengthened their claws in her presence. Still, he was answering her questions at last.

"And your mother? Is she happy?" she asked, seeing an opportunity to find out what Azagor didn't have the courage to tell her that day not so long ago.

He looked away from her. She could see his muscles bunch and tighten and reached out to him to soothe him. She'd obviously touched a nerve by mentioning his mother. "What happened to her, Zacar?"

She touched his thick bicep and he shrugged her off. Zacar closed in on her, stalked her, his claws displayed, his muscles so tense they vibrated. He loomed over her, into her. Natalie cowered away from him, ducked her head, and held out her palms in a futile effort to keep him away. She already knew she couldn't outrun him. Before she could figure what to do, he leaned into her even more, caging her between his arms. Only yesterday, it would've been a scarily sexy move. Now it only scared her. His fists, on either side of her face, opened and closed as if he wanted to crush the wall.

Natalie ducked out from under his arms and stumbled away from him. Never had she expected such a violent reaction to her question. He turned and speared her with a look so vicious, she almost peed herself. His fist was bleeding but he didn't seem to notice or care.

Still, she couldn't let the subject drop. "What--what happened with your mother?"

She was probably right to be afraid, bringing up the topic after all this time. Now she almost wished she'd kept her mouth shut. But she'd sensed she might get some answers. This was the first time since she'd met him that he'd been so emotional. If only she could get through the conversation unscathed.

He advanced on her again. "You want to know about my mother? She was honored above all others. But she couldn't accept that a beautiful noble woman like her had to breed for a warrior like my father. His true form disgusted her." He spat the words in her face, showing more emotion than she'd ever thought him capable of.

"What? Why?" Even if his mother hadn't been able to accept his father, she couldn't imagine her not accepting Zacar. "What happened?"

"She ended herself." He turned away from her, his voice suddenly flat and emotionless.

"Ended herself? You mean she committed suicide?" she whispered, shocked.

She'd expected him to say she escaped his father and he never saw her again. This was so much worse. It was no wonder he showed such extreme aggression when she mentioned his mother.

"Yes," he said, his voice still flat.

"That must've been terrible for you. How old were you?" Her heart ached at the thought of Zacar as a young boy, having to live with what his mother had done.

"I was a warrior."

He might be fully grown now but it obviously still affected him.

"How did your father take it?"

He never spoke of his parents. She'd told him about her childhood, her favorite places on the mountain, but he'd never reciprocated. This was the first time he'd even admitted to having parents.

He didn't answer.

"How did she do it?" She wanted to hold him but he held his body taut, turned away from her, his claws still out. This violent stranger frightened her.

"She stopped eating then took medicine from her home world."

"Why did she stop eating before taking the medicine? Why not simply overdose?"

"My father made her immune to most poisons. In order for the medicine to work, she had to weaken herself."

How horrible for him to live with the knowledge that his mother had been that determined to leave him. "How did he make her immune?"

Something flickered in his eyes and, again, he didn't answer.

She thought about the way he carefully fed her every day and her heart ached for him. It ached at her own silly delusions that he did it because of any softer feelings for her. It ached for her unborn child, destined to become an emotionally repressed warrior. "I'm not your mother, Zacar," she said gently.

"No. So you are happy to breed my warriors?" There was an almost taunting quality to his voice.

She raised her hand and rested it, trembling, on her stomach. "I--well, yes. Though, how many babies do you actually want? Human women usually only bear about two kids," she said, trying to infuse some normalcy into their discussion.

His taunting her had caught her off guard. This savage, angry man was so unlike the gentle alien she'd fallen in love with that she didn't know how to react.

"A little warrior every year until your fertility stops," he said, something driven, almost ugly in his voice.

"What?" she whispered.