I explore the General’s quarters for a while, looking around, running my hand over things, and pressing various panels on the walls. Everything is so alien looking. It’s all quite fascinating.

My legs are holding up just fine, and I’m actually feeling really good, better than I’ve felt in a long time. Whatever the Kordolians have pumped into me seems to have worked.

I return to his sleeping chamber—that dark, cocoon-like place—and search around. There must be a wardrobe in here, because otherwise how could he get changed into that sexy dress uniform so quickly?

Oh, my. Did I just think that?

Let me rephrase that. Not sexy. Distinguished is more like it.

Hell, Abbey, you thought he was sexy. Just admit it.

There’s a little triangular arrangement of blue lights in the wall that I hadn’t noticed before. I touch my palm to it and bingo, the dark wall magically comes apart, revealing a walk-in wardrobe. Apart from the muted glow of the little blue lights, it’s dim inside. Why do Kordolians prefer everything to be hidden in shadow? It’s as if they’ve got something to hide.

There are only a few garments hanging on the racks. I suppose he doesn’t need much clothing because he’s wearing armor most of the time. And underneath the freaky nano-armor, he’s very naked, all the time. I shudder, goosebumps rippling on my skin as I remember the way he stood before me when I was in the stasis tank.

Unashamed, in all of his naked glory.

I couldn’t take my eyes off him.

The wardrobe contains a duplicate of the fancy uniform he was wearing, another robe, and some plain looking trousers. All black, of course.

The guy needs some color. I’m thinking a dark red, like wine, might suit him. It would match his eyes.

I grab the trousers and try them on, discarding the billowing robe. I need something a bit less cumbersome to go around in. I can’t be tripping over swathes of fabric at every turn.

The trousers are big and long, but I manage to roll them up and fashion the belt-like thing so that it cinches nicely at my waist.

I grab a soft, sleeveless tunic and slip it over my head. It falls to about mid-thigh, like a short dress.

Too bad there’s no mirror. At least I feel a lot more presentable now. It’s not the most fashionable getup, but at least I can move around freely.

I go back into the living space and do a few experimental squats. Easy. No pain, no stiffness. I hop on one leg, and then the other. I’m as good as new. There’s no deformity and no scarring, thank Jupiter. I bend over and touch my toes. I’ve always been flexible, and it seems nothing’s changed. I’m able to reach over and touch both palms to the floor.

What the hell did these Kordolians do to me?

A nanograft? I don’t like the sound of that.

But I seem to be healthy and whole, and so far, there’s no sign that they’ve taken my organs or tried to experiment on me or stuck a control chip in my brain.

The only problem right now is that I’m locked in the General’s chambers and I have no idea when he plans on sending me home.

Does he even plan on returning me? He seemed a little cagey on that point. Perhaps I shouldn’t wait around to find out exactly what he has in store for me.

I don’t trust Kordolians.

There has to be a way to get out of here. I pace over to the weird looking door that marks the entrance to the quarters. It’s made of that same woven looking stuff; those weird black fibers that seem to peel apart when opening. The light in here is so scant that it’s hard to make out the fine detail, but at least there’s some starlight to go by.

Seriously, Kordolians? What’s with the darkness and gloom? I’m starting to miss the sunshine already.

From what I’ve seen, they don’t have an equivalent to the Sun. Just a dim, dying star; a fading memory of what once was there. How many hundreds, or thousands, or millions of years has it been like that?

There’s a thin fissure in the centre of the door, where I’ve seen the fibre-like things slide apart. They’re like tiny interlocking fingers, sealed impossibly tight. Yet when the General walked up to the door, it just opened.

I dig my fingers into the grooves of the fissure, trying to pry it open.

It’s a bit stupid of me. Why would a futuristic alien door have a weakness where I could just pull it open? But I’m desperate to get out of here, so still I tug, hoping for a bit of give.

“Ow!” I wince as one of my fingernails rips, revealing a small patch of raw nailbed. A tiny droplet of blood beads there, smearing on the door’s surface as I pull my finger away to suck on it.

There’s a rushing sound, and a whoosh of air, and suddenly the interlocking, black fibers are gone, revealing a shadowy corridor.

Uh, did I do that? What the hell did I just do?

I blink, looking left and right, startled by my sudden, unexpected freedom. The corridor curves around in each direction, disappearing into the darkness.

Which way do I go? I turn left, guided by a hunch, keeping an eye out for any sign of movement. The General told me not to go out of his quarters, but there’s no way I can just sit around and wait for him to come back.

That would be placing my fate in his hands, and I’m not about to allow that when I know nothing about the man or his motivations. I need to figure out an escape plan. I need to get the lay of the place.

Some might call me reckless. I’ll admit, I’m an act now, think later kind of girl. It’s calculated recklessness, though. I figure that if the Big Bad wanted me harmed or dead, I’d already be harmed or dead.

I try to be stealthy, making my footfalls light, watching for a change in the shadows, listening for any sound that might indicate an approaching Kordolian. The problem is that there’s nowhere to hide.

The passageway leads to an open area which must be some kind of communal space, judging by the soft seating and array of tables. The huge vaulted windows look out onto the dark planet below. A river of blue lights creeps across its surface, winking against the inky blackness. The place is empty right now, much to my relief.

The entire scene below me is eerie and intimidating and darkly beautiful.

Just like the Dark Planet’s inhabitants.

I pass through the quiet room, alert for any signs of movement. But there’s not a Kordolian to be seen. I move through a series of wide arches into another cavernous space, stopping dead in my tracks.

I’ve come to a lookout, and there’s a lake below me.

Incredible. As I stare down at the giant expanse of water, I realize it’s not a lake but a swimming pool. Like all things Kordolian, it doesn’t have straight edges, but smooth, curved corners. There are lines marked for lap swimming.

But what’s most astonishing about the pool is that it’s completely transparent at the bottom, looking out onto the stars and the ominous shadow of the Dark Planet below.

Magnified by water, the stars and lights are surreal.

Talk about an infinity pool.

I stiffen as the sound of voices drifts towards me through the stillness. It’s difficult to figure out which direction they’re coming from. The voices become louder, turning into a raucous exchange of Kordolian banter.

Shit. They’re heading this way.

I look around in panic, but there’s nowhere to hide. If I go down to the pool area below, I’ll be easy to spot. My pale skin will surely stand out in the darkness. If I go back the way I’ve come, I’ll run straight into them.

The voices are louder now, and two Kordolian males appear. They see me as soon as I see them, and for a moment, we all freeze. If I weren’t freaking out, the situation might almost be comical.

They start babbling at me in Kordolian. I can’t understand a word they’re saying.

I hold up a hand. “Do you guys speak Universal?”

At the sound of my voice, they hesitate. They’re both military, by the looks of things; fit, lean, and clean-cut. We stare at each other, having a real first-contact sort of moment. I doubt they’ve ever seen a real live Human before.

“H- Human!” One of the guys raises a hand and points at me. “What are you doing here?” His Universal is heavily accented, but I can understand him well enough.

I decide to bluff it out. “I’m a guest of General Tarak’s.” Even though they tower above me, I straighten to my full height, trying to appear confident and intimidating.

At the mention of the General’s name, both of them have a rapid-fire exchange in Kordolian. The first guy turns back to me. “You are not authorized to be in this area. We must detain you while we confirm the correct clearances.”

“Uh, I don’t think the General would be very happy to hear I’ve been detained over something so trivial.” I wave my hand imperiously, stepping forward to glare at the guy. He has light amber eyes, which go wide as I poke him in the chest. “Soldier, would you like to answer to General Tarak over this? He’s gone to the effort of bringing me here all the way from Sector Nine. Do you really think I would have free run of this area if he hadn’t allowed it? This is your General we’re talking about here. Are you accusing him of being negligent?”

Uncertainty plays across the soldier’s face as his buddy whispers something to him in Kordolian. He shies away from my touch, nervously wiping his hands down the front of his uniform.

It seems the threat of facing the General is a very scary one indeed.

Huh. I file away that useful bit of information. It seems even regular Kordolians are scared of my Big Bad.

Oops. Did I just think of him as my Tarak?

The soldiers stare at me for a moment, then both execute an odd little bow, backing away. “No offense was intended, Human. Please do not mention this incident to General Akkadian.”

“I won’t if you won’t.” I wink, and that seems to send them into further confusion. They back away as if I’m some kind of venomous creature. “Oh, you guys. Relax.” I wave them away. “Go and enjoy your swim.” That pool, with its amazing clear bottom, looks incredibly inviting.

The Kordolians retreat, stepping onto a hoverlift, which takes them to the lower level.

You’d almost think they were afraid of females, or Humans. Or both.

Except that they’re now both stripping off, in full view of me.

And of course, they’re not wearing anything underneath. Totally in their birthday suits. I shake my head, fighting the embarrassment that rises. My ears feel hot. I’m reminded of Tarak and his perfectly sculpted body, the impressive length of him, and the feel of his deft, sure hands on my skin.

I clutch the metal railing of the balcony with moist palms. The thought of the General sends a warm feeling through my core, right down to my most sensitive area.

And here I was supposed to be looking for an escape route. I try to banish the sensual thoughts from my mind. I need a clear head for this. Perhaps a swim in that inviting pool below will help. After the young, naked Kordolians have finished, of course.

Anything to get these thoughts out of my head.

* * *

I stand before the twelve heads of the High Council with my teeth clenched in irritation. My fangs break the skin of my lower lip, and I taste blood in my mouth.

But as always, the tiny wound heals as quickly as it was made.

The representatives of the High Council look down upon me from their elevated seats. There are six females and six males, all born of one of Kythia’s twelve Noble Houses. Several of the males are wearing elaborate robes which I recognize as Veronian in origin, with their fine, colorful embroidery. Thin fingers are decked out with intricate rings bearing cumbersome, glittering jewels. Some of the males have grown their hair long, in a style that seems to be fashionable on Kythia at the moment.

The females, on the other hand, are dressed in the plain black robes of their office.

In these times, Kordolian females do not have to try hard to impress anyone. There are so few of them left that they can have their pick of any male on the planet.

“General Akkadian.” One of the representatives, a tall, severe female with long hair that is darkening with age, addresses me, her low voice echoing throughout the small chamber. I recognize her as Councillor Sivian, the elected head. “It has come to our attention that you have a Human onboard the Fleet Station.” Her cold, amber gaze locks with mine, and she arches one eyebrow. “When were you going to inform us of that particular detail?”

The Council know about Abbey. Fuck. How in Kaiin’s hells did they find out?

I resist the urge to leap up to the pedestal and grab her by the throat. Instead, I fight to keep my tone even. “I am not required to inform the Council of every little thing that goes on aboard the Fleet Station. I’d hardly think the presence of a Human would be of any concern to you.”

“When we are told that this Human, a female at that, is reproductively compatible with our species, then it most certainly becomes the business of the High Council, General.”

I hide my shock behind a carefully blank expression. Reproductively compatible? Zyara said our species had some similarities, but the ability to mate?

And who would have informed the landside authorities of such a thing?

My suspicions lie with Mirkel. If he’s gone to the Council on this, I’ll tear his fucking head off.

“I am requesting you to hand over custody of the Human to the Genetic Research Unit. Such a discovery cannot be kept quiet because of personal desires, General.”

I fight to keep still, but underneath my skin, the black nanites are seething. They’ve escaped my bloodstream in response to my anger, and they’re ready to emerge and equip me for combat at any moment.

“The Human is mine,” I say quietly, calmly. “There will be no handover.”

“Are you sure about that, General? Withholding any resource that might help the future survival of our race is akin to treason.” The eleven other Councillors nod in agreement, their cold gazes fixed on me.

That look. Derision. Scorn. Judgement. It’s a look I’ve received my entire life. I am, and always will be, an outsider. Like many Kordolians who haven’t been born into a Noble House, I’m still considered a second-class citizen, regardless of my rank.

Inferior, even though I now hold half of their military in the palm of my hand. The nobles are blinded by their own arrogance.

“Councillor Sivian,” I say mildly, disguising my rage. “Are you accusing me of treason?”

She responds with a deceptively gentle smile. “Of course not, General. We are all aware of your exploits in the expansion efforts and the fight against our eternal enemy, the Xargek. I was merely suggesting a course of action. Surely you’re not so attached to this feeble Human that you’d put her welfare above the needs of your own race?”

“And if I am?”

“Then this becomes an insurmountable dispute. One that needs to be resolved at all costs.”

I shake my head slowly. “No, Councillor. There is no dispute here. The human is mine, and you and your scientists will not touch as much as a single hair on her head. If you wish to carry out experiments, find another subject at your own expense.”

“General Akkadian!” An outraged male voice rings across the chamber as one of the Councillors stands. Luron Alerak. An idiot with yellow robes and metal piercings bristling from both ears. “You will not address the High Councillor with such disrespect. Or do you forget that you survive here by the grace of the Empress alone?”

A harsh laugh escapes me. “Do you forget that I have half of the Kordolian military under my command, Luron? The Empress acts graciously because I agreed to peace.”

“Outrageous! You go too far, General!”

“The Human is mine,” I repeat. “There will be consequences if any harm comes to her.” I turn to leave, a cold fury rising inside me. The thought of handing Abbey over to be experimented on makes me want to hurt someone. And the headache behind my eyes has become a thousand times worse.

If I don’t leave now, I may very well do something violent.

Shocked murmurs break out as I turn my back on the Council. But as I start to walk out, a familiar voice rings through the chamber. “General Akkadian, I don’t recall you being dismissed.”

I turn slowly and find myself face to face with the arguably the most dangerous being on Kythia.

“Empress Vionn.” I look up towards the gallery, where she is standing at the railing. The Empress smiles, baring her fangs. But there is no warmth in her crimson eyes.

I stiffen, refusing to stoop to the ridiculous customary bow that she loves. I receive twelve disapproving stares from the Council, but I hold my ground.

I’m no longer afraid of the High Council. There’s nothing they can do to me now. They hadn’t realized how much my influence in the military had grown until it was too late. Being a war hero has its perks. My soldiers are loyal to me only. And Kythia needs us. The Kordolian race is nothing without its army.

The Empress waves a slender hand, her sharpened obsidian fingernails glinting under the overly bright lights. “The rest of you, get out. I will have words with the General alone.”

“But Infinite Mother,” Luron whines, the trinkets in his pierced ear clinking as he shakes his head, “Akkadian is a savage. You cannot—”

Vionn stalks over to the Councilor and slaps him in the face, her sharp nails drawing blood. A trickle of black seeps down Luron’s pale cheek. “Do not presume, child. Never presume on my behalf.”

I close my eyes and take a deep breath as the stabbing pain behind my eyes intensifies. Luron spews forth a stream of groveling apologies, bowing repeatedly as he backs away. The other Councilors follow him in haste.

We all know who holds the true power on Kythia. Ever since Emperor Ilhan died, Vionn has been spreading her influence. Her power multiplies like billions of unstoppable Xargek larvae.

Detestable female.

With the chamber empty, the Empress grabs the railing and leaps to the lower floor, landing in front of me, her loose robes billowing around her. Her wild untamed hair is darkening with age, and as she moves closer, I see faint lines at the corners of her eyes and mouth.

No matter how powerful she is, the Infinte Empress cannot defeat time.

“I’m disappointed in you, Tarak. I never thought that you, of all Kordolians, would become attached to a lesser species. And to show your weakness in front of the entire High Council? Are you becoming soft, General?”

“What do you want, Vionn?” I freeze as she stops just in front of me. She’s so close I can feel her warm breath on my face.

“I want to understand what’s going on inside that hard head of yours, General. You know our species is dying out. That there haven’t been any females born in the most recent reproductive season. And yet you withhold an important clue that could lead to our survival. A reproductively compatible female. Is celibacy your problem, boy? Is abstinence clouding your judgement? You know, I can help you with that.” She draws her fingers down the side of my face, her long nails grazing my skin. “Why is it that of all the males I’ve desired, only you have been immune to me? Are you defective, General?”

I clench my teeth as her chemical scent surrounds me. It’s harsh and cloying, a pale imitation of Abbey’s sweet perfume. The Empress leans close and draws her pointed black tongue across my cheek. “I haven’t been able to feel true pleasure since Ilhan died. You know as well as I do that this generation of males isn’t the same. With such a brutal military to protect us, ordinary civilians have become soft.” She places her hand at the opening of my trousers, her claw-like fingers resting on my cock. “You, on the other hand, would make me a most suitable mate.”

She strokes my dick through the thin fabric of my pants, before snorting in disgust. “Disappointing. Not even a twitch. Are you perhaps fond of the other sex, boy? Or maybe you desire the Human female. Would you willingly dilute the Kordolian gene pool with that filth? Why, oh, why, do all the males with a shred of promise act like raving lunatics? Even that uncivilized son of mine has gone insane.”

Unable to take it any more, I grasp her wrist, pulling her hand away. “My sexual preferences are none of your business, Vionn.” My headache is excruciating now, threatening to bring me to my knees. My vision starts to blur a little. I squeeze Vionn’s wrist and she smiles, showing her fangs.

“Oh, I like a male who isn’t afraid to hurt me. None have had the balls to try, aside from you. They forget that pain can be a great aphrodisiac.”

Her words cause me to release her in disgust. She laughs. “It’s too bad about your Human pet. I can see you’re quite attached to it. But we’re arranging to have it brought here as I speak. You’ll just have to replace it with another Human. Perhaps you can catch another the next time you’re passing by Sector Nine.”

Something inside me snaps, and the next thing I know, I have her pinned to the floor, my hand around her neck. The black nanites respond to my will, forming an armored glove around my hand. The hard, impenetrable material of the exo-suit bites into her pale skin.

White-hot rage erupts at the thought of Abbey being at the mercy of this bitch. I could so easily squeeze my hand right now and drain the life from Vionn.

For a sliver of a moment, I catch a flicker of fear in her gaze. It’s so fleeting I almost miss it.

But then she’s laughing. It’s more of a faint, noiseless wheeze, but she’s laughing. Her dark red eyes shine with a mixture of desire and amusement. She’s enjoying this. Revulsion creeps through me. “You can’t bring yourself to do it, General. Go on, kill me and invite war. Our species will not survive another civil war or the loss of another female. You can bring about our downfall, right here, right now, if you wish.”

I wrench my hand away in disgust, stepping up off her.

The Infinite Empress, ruler of Kythia and the declining Kordolian race, is insane.

I leave her lying on the black floor of the Council chambers, her long hair strewn around her head like a wild crown. A mad laugh echoes through the room as I escape, my skin crawling with disgust. The agony behind my eyes pounds incessantly, sharp and insistent.

“Go, Tarak. Try and save her. You’re already too late.”

And all I can think is that I need to get to my Human before they do. They will dissect her and destroy her, because they don’t value any other form of life besides their own.

I know it all too well, because I was the same, once.

* * *

As I turn away from the pool hall, the sound of splashing water echoes through the huge space and two more Kordolians appear. Unlike the military guys, they’re both wearing white robes similar to those I’ve seen on Zyara.

And these two males don’t look so friendly.

They don’t seem surprised to see me, either. Uh, oh. I’m getting a bad feeling about these guys.

I look around for somewhere to go, but they’re blocking the only exit, and the pool area is a dead end. There’s nowhere to hide.

“Can I help you?” I blurt, trying to edge around them. They stare back at me, stone-faced, not saying a word.

Okay, so they’re definitely not friendly.

The lead guy has something in his hand. It looks like a needle of some sort. I try to weigh up my options. They’re advancing on me and muttering to each other in Kordolian. I decide I don’t want to be a part of anything they’ve got planned.

I feint to the left then dash to the right, evading them and making for the exit.

Run!

They shout in their strange tongue, rushing after me, but I’m faster, and I pump my arms and legs, racing across the common area. These new legs are working a treat. Somehow, I can run really, really fast.

What the hell did they do to me?

But I don’t have time to contemplate my newfound speed right now, because two other white-robed Kordolians have appeared, blocking off the way to the General’s quarters.

Cutting me off. Shit.

I look around, but there’s nowhere to go. The two males who were in the pool have appeared behind the robed guys, still naked and dripping wet, yelling and adding to all the confusion.

If I weren’t so terrified right now, I’d roll my eyes. What is it with Kordolian males and nudity?

Everyone’s started screaming, and I can’t understand a word of it. The unfriendly guys advance on me, tall and intimidating, marching forward like robots.

There’s nowhere for me to run, nowhere to hide.

Where the hell is Tarak when I need him? As I try to evade the Kordolians, one of them catches me by the wrist, his grip like steel. Like the General, these guys are insanely strong. I flail about, trying to wrench away from his iron grasp.

His buddy comes up behind me, and the other two guys also close in. I’m outnumbered four-to-one.

The soldiers are staring at the scene before them in shock, still engaged in a rapid-fire back-and-forth with the white robe guys. “A little help here,” I gasp, appealing to them with a desperate glance.

They stare at me in confusion, but just as I sense I’m getting through to them, something sharp pokes me in the back of the neck.

It feels like a needle.

Oh, shit.

My last thought, before I black out, is that I really need to stop letting these Kordolians sedate me all the time. Then my vision goes hazy, and everything fades away.

* * *

When I open my eyes again, the world slowly blurs back into focus. Kordolian voices murmur all around me. My head is spinning.

I try to move, but something is pinning down my arms and legs. Something hard and inflexible is clamped around my wrists and feet. The restraints have sharp edges. I think I’m bleeding a little bit.

And it’s bloody freezing cold. There’s no warmth in this Kordolian world. Everything is dark and cold and inhuman. They’ve lived without the warmth of a star for so long they’ve turned into creatures of darkness and ice.

I’m strapped down on some kind of table, and I’m totally naked.

Oh sweet Earth, how I miss you right now. I preferred life when it was simple, when I could just retreat into my room and watch silly twentieth-century movies on Netcom in my pajamas, with a bowl of ramen in front of me.

Oh, for the good old days.

I shudder, closing my eyes again as a white-robed figure passes close to me. I feign unconsciousness.

This is beyond bad.

Drugged and strapped to a table on an alien space station? That only means one thing. They’re about to turn me into a giant lab rat.

The hard, frigid surface of the table is brutal against the bare skin of my back and ass, My body trembles slightly, threatening to erupt into full-blown shivering.

I am so sick and tired of this damn cold. If I ever make it back to Earth, I’m having a month-long warm bubble bath.

What would be better than a long, hot soak right about now? A long, hot soak with a grumpy, bossy, silver alien? There would be something so oddly satisfying about seeing General Tarak covered in fluffy bubble bath suds.

A robotic machine-sound brings me back to reality and I mentally kick myself for thinking such stupid things at a time like this. I’m about to be dissected by aliens and I’m thinking about that muscle-headed jerk, naked? The word delirious comes to mind. Maybe it’s the drugs they shot into me.

Speaking of the jerk, where the hell is he, anyway? My anger rises, mingling with a growing sense of helplessness. He’s the one who got me into this situation, and now he’s letting these robe-wearing assholes turn me into a human guinea pig?

I hope this isn’t what he intended all along. I really hope he hasn’t sold me out.

Because that would be rather disappointing.

I almost thought we had a little connection going on there.

I freeze as a pair of cold, gloved hands touches the bare skin at my neck. I fight with every ounce of my self-control to keep from moving. Some instinct tells me I shouldn’t let them know that I’m awake right now. The hands trace down my chest, resting at my breasts, before examining my stomach. They poke and prod and feel around, and I fight to keep from wincing in pain.

Seriously dude, I’m not a fucking beanbag.

The creepy alien hands descend to my pelvis, moving over the prominent bones of my hips, tracing down to my pussy, running over the soft, sensitive flesh. I bite down on my lower lip, drawing blood. It’s the only thing that’s stopping me from screaming as revulsion courses through me. This is like every bad twentieth-century alien movie coming true all at once.

But all of a sudden, the hand freezes.

“Zhyl sarba ak Human regeliss.” Or something like that. The sharp voice pierces my misery. I recognize it all too well. Zyara.

The hand stops, then it’s gone. Oh, thank sweet Jupiter.

Zyara and the pervert examiner, a male Kordolian with a deep voice, exchange heated words as I keep my eyes closed. I’m dying to see what’s going on, and yet I’m desperate to seem asleep. I don’t want to draw his attention again.

Then a distant alarm sounds, and Mr Creepyhands curses in Kordolian before leaving in a huff.

It’s only when he’s gone that I dare open my eyes again.

Zyara’s standing over me, her orange gaze brimming with pity.

“Oh don’t give me that look,” I growl as she rests a cool hand on my cheek. “I was going to kick him in the nuts as soon as I got the chance.”

“Strange Human,” Zyara murmurs, shaking her head. “The Sylerian has become so much less effective on you since I first dosed you. You’ve developed remarkable tolerance in such a short time.”

“I’ve been told I have an efficient liver. Always did well in drinking contests. So are you going to help me get out of here, or are you one of the bad guys too?” I try to look up, but even my head is strapped down, a thick, metal band resting against my forehead. I’m naked all over. They didn’t even leave me a scrap for modesty. Bastards.

I should be blushing all over, but Zyara’s the one who stuck me in the stasis tank to begin with, and I’m sure she’s seen all my naughty bits before. So to hell with ‘decorum’, as the General calls it.

“Quiet, Abbey.” Zyara fiddles with something on the side of the table and the restraints are suddenly gone, retracting into the metal surface. “We don’t have much time. I’ve created a diversion, but the scientists will soon de-activate the alarm. You need to run. And just so you know, I’m loyal to the General.”

“So all this bizarro test-subject stuff isn’t his doing?”

That little shake of her head in response is the sweetest thing I’ve seen all day. I breathe a sigh of relief as I sit up, stretching my stiff limbs. “You’ve got impeccable timing, Zyara.”

She stares at me blankly before turning and ripping a curtain-thing from a nearby cubicle, making it look effortless. I guess lady Kordolians must also be ridiculously strong.

She hands me the silvery fabric. “I’m afraid I have no garments for you. Cover yourself and run. The General’s quarters are on the lowest level. Keep going down until you reach the windows with the view of the Dark Planet. I’ll distract the scientists.” She punches a machine beside the table, causing sparks to fly everywhere. A holoscreen starts to flicker, a rapid sequence of images flitting across it. She rips her own white robes a little and messes her hair. “Now it looks as if you’ve overpowered me.”

“Ha,” I grin as I wrap the silvery material around my body. It’s like liquid silk, all slippery and fine, but I manage to fashion it into an awkward sort of toga, securing a knot over one shoulder. “Like Frankenstein, the big, bad Human escapes.”

Zyara gives me an odd look, before rolling her eyes in exasperation. “Human, go,” she sighs. “I will hold them off until the General gets here.”

“He’s uh, on his way?”

“Oh, he’ll be here,” she says darkly. “And he’s not going to be pleased.”