Taken (Warriors of Karal Book 3) (14 page)

But each time she opened her eyes, and reality hit her, it became harder to go back to her dream world.

The alarm sounded, making her start. The female next to her was on her feet, and backing away to press herself against the wall of her cell. Why? What happened if you stayed close to the bars?

Chrissi moved forward, and the female in the next cell made a sound as if she were in pain. Chrissi turned to look at her, and the creature shook her head, beckoning her back. Not wanting to provoke the aliens, or draw their attention, she backed away, to press herself against her cell wall. When she looked up, every other creature she could see, many of them similar to the female next to her, with fur covering their bodies, were doing the same.

To her left, a group of Hrokili were approaching, inspecting the cells one by one. The female next to her pressed herself back further as if trying to blend in with the wall. She was scared, and a mournful whine began to emanate from her.

“It’s OK,” Chrissi said, feeling a rage building up inside her. What right did another species have to do this to whomever they chose? It was wrong, and Chrissi was going to make damn sure there was an end to it.

The group of Hrokili stopped, looking in at the poor creature next to Chrissi. They spoke to each other, and one of them indicated the door. They pressed some kind of button, and the door slid back. The female whined louder, and something in Chrissi flipped. She stepped forward, so quick the frail creatures didn’t move, and stuck her hand through the bars at the front, grabbing one of them by the throat. The Hrokili’s breath rasped in his throat, and his pathetic hands clutched at her arms, and in one movement she took its electric prodder from him. A shock ran up her arm, but she held onto it, knowing if she let it go, all would be lost.

Beside her, the furry female was hiding in the corner far away from Chrissi. Yep, that was probably a good idea, because this was not looking good. The other Hrokili were approaching, holding their sticks out towards her. This was going to be tricky. Oh, hell it was going to be impossible. Who was she fooling, even if she did manage to disarm them, what then?

Only one way to find out. She pushed the stick forward through the bars, making them move back away from her. One of them was rasping excitedly, giving orders to the others. They moved, planning to come at her from all directions, but she backed away, and simply stood with the stick in front of her, like it was some kind of sword, ready to attack.

The standoff continued. The Hrokili were rasping to each other, but they all knew who had the upper hand. All the Hrokili had to do was wait her out; she was in a locked cell, no food, no water. But she had fight and if this was her last stand, then so be it.

Two Hrokili remained outside her cell, far enough away that she couldn’t touch them and this was how they stayed for two hours or more, until more aliens came and relieved them. Chrissi felt her energy draining and she was so thirsty her head began to ache. It was not helped by the constant wailing of the frightened creature in the cell next door. But despite the fruitlessness of her stand, Chrissi could not simply give in.

Her hand wavered, the faint buzz from the stick making her arm heavy, and the feeling was going in her hand. She was weak, she knew it, they knew it, and that was when they made their move.

The alarm sounded, everyone moved back from the door, except Chrissi. And then her door began to move, sliding open, and the Hrokili moved forward, the frail bodies looking as if they would go up in smoke if she touched them with the electric prod. Well, she was more than happy to see if that was the case.

She lunged forward. Taking one by surprise, he fell back, and she took another step forward, her foot touching the rim of the cell where the door slid across. A sharp shock went up her leg, stunning her. The prod fell out of her hand and her brain could no longer send signals to her legs and she crumpled to the floor.

In revenge, one of the Hrokili, the one whom she had shocked, took up his prod and stuck it in her back, until the whole of the ship echoed with her cries. And then the world went quiet, and she felt no more, or saw no more.

The charge seemed to dissipate across his skin, and although it knocked him to his knees, he found he could tolerate it, and much to the surprise of the creature in front of him, he pushed himself up to stand once more. The thing then tried to run. Malik stopped it.

It gasped, writhing in his hands, but it wasn’t going anywhere. It was going to tell him where Chrissi was. Or it would suffer. Not die. Just suffer. A lot.

The look in Malik’s eyes must have conveyed these thoughts, because the Hrokili suddenly went limp, the fight gone from it. But Malik had enough experience of space to know that you didn’t take chances. So he put the thing forcibly into Chrissi’s seat and strapped it in, binding its wrists and ankles to make sure it couldn’t move. Then he picked up the thing that looked like a gun, feeling a small electrical pulse from it.

Pointing it at the creature, Malik then asked the question. “Where did they take the woman who was here?”

The creature didn’t speak; only a small rasping sound came from it.

“Computer voice translate.”

Nothing. He frowned. Had this creature done something to his ship? Damn him if he had. Or had Chrissi done something? This Hrokili would have to be pretty smart to have overridden the computer in such a short space of time, but Chrissi might have done something, tried to leave a warning.

“Computer Malik 9473. Request data log.”

“Data log.” The computer screen in front of him flashed up, and Malik leaned forward to study it.

“Clever girl,” he said. “Computer, replay audio.”

The audio began, but all he heard was Chrissi’s voice and a series of rasping noises. “Computer, can you translate the audio recording?”

“Negative.”

He glanced at the thing next to him, and said, “Speak.”

The creature looked at him, his bony fingers almost skeletal, digging into the arms of the chair. Malik raised the gun and fired. The creature cried out, a thin wail.

“Speak,” Malik said again, his hands gesturing to ensure the thing knew what he meant.

The Hrokili elicited a string of words that Malik interpreted as hate; it would do. “Computer, can you translate?”

“Negative.”

“Where have your people gone?” Malik said, lifting the prod once more and pressing it to the creature.

It rasped more harshly, but did not speak a word Malik understood. This was futile. He would have to try to pick up the trail of the Hrokili ship. “Computer. Override Chrissi 3692. Start engines.”

“Override complete,” the computer said, and Malik got up to go to the back of the ship to press the button for the ramp to close. As he did so, he saw the creature smiling. He was sure of it. It was something in its eyes, and he knew then that the thing could at least understand, if not talk the same language.

Thinking it over, Malik went to the back of the ship and shut the ramp. If the Hrokili rounded up any creature they found and took them as slaves, it stood to reason they must be able to understand them. It would be extremely difficult to transport large numbers of different species and get them to do as they wanted without some kind of translator.

He went back to the control deck, and took a closer look at his captive. He wore some kind of leather armour over his vital organs. Although its arms and legs were bare, showing the thin, almost translucent skin that looked likely to flake off at the slightest touch.

In theory, the translator would be near its ears, unless of course it was embedded somehow. Malik reached out and touched the creature, the feel of his skin making Malik cringe with disgust. But he began to pat the Hrokili down, feeling every inch of him, until he found something in its armour, a small electrical circuit board.

He put his hand inside the armour, and the Hrokili went wild, fighting him for it, although with his hands and feet bound, all he could do was bite with his rotten teeth. The smell from its mouth made Malik want to heave. Pulling his hand free, he took the circuit board and placed it in front of him.

“This is how you listen to others?” he asked, and the Hrokili didn’t answer. “I know you can understand me. This must be wireless.”

Nothing.

“Then I’ll just take it apart to see how it works.” He made his hand into a fist, ready to bring it down on the circuit board. The Hrokili rasped harshly, and Malik stopped just short of smashing it. “Now, you could have made it so much easier on both of us. I don’t have time to waste. So don’t test my patience.”

The creature stared back, full of hatred.

“Now, my vile little friend. Can I use this to understand you?”

The creature shook his head.

“You’re sure?” Malik asked.

Again it shook his head.

“Then I might as well smash it, so you can’t eavesdrop on me.” He raised his hand and again the creature rasped as though two metal plates were sliding against each other. “My patience is wearing thin. Next time I won’t stop. Understand?”

The creature nodded.

“Then tell me how to use this. And then you are going to tell me exactly where to find that ship of yours.”

He would find Chrissi. Despite the risks. But Okil’s words rang in his head. He should really be taking this creature back to Karal for interrogation. Chrissi did not carry his child, so to the Karal she was expendable. But not to him.

No, to Malik, she was the most important thing in the universe and he would give his life to rescue her.

Every part of her body hurt and she had to fight the need to keep her eyes closed and disappear back into oblivion. Summoning her inner strength, she prised one eye open and then the other. She was in a different room, away from the main cells. The thing that chilled her the most was that this holding cell had two doors, one of which looked as if it opened out into space.

A need to vomit rose in her, the bile acid in her throat. She was not going to die here; she would endure whatever they did to her, and not fight. As long as she was alive, there was hope. But she kept picturing herself disappearing out through that door, her body imploding, just as she had imagined the same thing happening to her father so many times.

For her father, it had been a routine spacewalk; he had been an astronaut all her life, and had gone into space so many times it worried her as much as another child would worry about their dad crossing the road. But her dad had never come home.

She scrubbed her brain clean of those unhelpful images and began to focus on what she knew, and what she could do to help herself. Although none of it helped. She was trapped at the mercy of a species who didn’t care about the pain they inflicted. For all she knew, her fate was already sealed and she was already sentenced to death.

Getting up, painfully, she went to the door, looking out into the vastness of space. She loved it, and this would never change her love of the stars, the planets and the stuff she didn’t even know about that existed out here.

Placing her forehead on the cool glass, she allowed her mind to drift. It would be quick, not painless, but quick, and then she would be gone. Malik would be given another female and would breed with her; he would have his child, and would be happy.

Malik
.

A stray tear trickled down her cheek, and she wiped it away, her eyes misted. Her mind was hallucinating, for out there she could see his ship; it was getting closer, approaching the Hrokili vessel. Her heart sank and she felt even more miserable. The Hrokili left behind must have managed to start the cruiser. Malik, if still alive, was now stranded on the planet Lilith.

She turned away, and went to sit down, her back against the door. Damn, she hurt so much.

Sleep came to her, and she dreamed. They were walking together, this time on Karal, he was showing her the ocean. There was a boat, he held her hand and helped her into it. It rocked, but she righted herself, wanting to show him she could do this, she could sail over the ocean with him. Again the boat rocked, and then thunder sounded. A storm was coming, but the sky was clear.

The sound thundered through the air, and she had to put her hands out to stop herself sliding across the floor. Something was happening to the ship. Chrissi scrambled to her feet, the precarious position she was in all too apparent. If anything happened to the power, the door out into space might open, and she would be the first to go out of it. She turned, trying to look through the small hole in the opposite door, which looked as if it led into a loading bay.

There was movement. One of the fur-covered aliens was in there, he was running on four legs, chasing something. Chasing a Hrokili. The small skeletal body was no match for the bigger animal and it let out a raspy scream as the animal bit its neck, worrying at it until it was dead.

Chrissi just stood and stared. Was she still asleep? Had her dream become a nightmare?

When the creature raised its head and howled, she knew this was real. Raising her hand, she was about to hit the glass, to try to get its attention, but she was scared—the Hrokili were one thing, but these animals were another. Able to walk on both two and four feet, but not capable of speech, how intelligent were they and would the creature kill her if it let her out?

Hell, it was worth the risk, anything was better than been trapped in here. She banged on the glass, shouting, but the thing didn’t seem to hear her; instead, it turned and ran out of the loading bay, leaving her alone once more.

Fear slowly crept into her mind. What if they took over the ship, these creatures, and they couldn’t steer it, or navigate at all. What would happen? They might just drift aimlessly around until they all died of hunger or thirst. A sense of urgency filled her. She had to get out of here, even if it meant breaking the door.

Looking around, she picked up a piece of discarded tubing and began to hammer at the glass, but it soon became obvious she was just wasting energy; the glass was not going to break.