CHAPTER TWO
Her head was spinning in one direction, her guts in quite another. Her body was being ratcheted like a jointed toy in the hands of a willful child throwing the mother of all tantrums. Her brain was full of a thick fog that would not allow her to fight against the forces tearing her apart. A super-nova. No, a black hole—that's what she was caught in.
They'd tricked her. They'd blown her out in deep, cold space where even the stars dared not tread, and they'd murdered her.
Now she'd never get to have her great adventure. Or say goodbye to her parents.
Her mouth gaping in a silent scream, she whirled into nothingness...
She woke slowly, painfully, sucking in an agonizingly slow breath, then another.
She felt as if she'd been dropped from a great height, smashed onto the unforgiving rocks on some strange place, and left to survive, or die.
Was she dead? But surely if she were, she wouldn't hurt all over, as if every bone in her body was on the verge of breaking, rending muscle and sinew along with it. Her head, oh, Great Tygress, she hadn't known a head could hold so much pain without exploding.
At least the rocks she'd landed on were warm. They smelled good, too... mmm-mm, like a virile male in his prime. Clean, but musky, with an edge of wild, as if his maleness would not be tamed by cleansing and clothing.
His heart beat slowly but strongly under her cheek.
Alive.
Gratitude filled her, and despite her pain she would've smiled if she could move her face. She was alive, and so was he. She was so very, very glad he was alive with her. She wanted to stay right where she was, to go on clinging to him like her solid rock, her lodestar.
"The female wakes," grated a high voice over her head. "Observe, I told you she would survive the journey."
"Huh," said another, equally annoying voice. "What about the male? If he is dead, we will have to dispose of his body. Such a chore."
"Use the medtech droid, foolish one," said the first voice. "You must ascertain his state of life—or death—before speaking of disposal."
"Tsk. I have to do everything."
The first voice tittered in sheer amusement. "Yes. Because I am not really there with you. I'm sure he is alive. After all, he is a warrior, very fearsome."
"She is from a fearsome race as well. A Tyger."
"Oooh, claws and fangs." The first voice tittered again. "Well, every race must have their little tools."
Little tools? Mia forced herself to move. No being with a voice like claws grating on cheap metal was going to belittle her racial heritage.
She pried her eyes open, and stared.
She could see brown, gray and black. Oh, wait, the brown was her own hair, falling in her face. She blew a breath out, just enough to disturb the lock of hair before her eyes. Even that small movement sent pain shooting through her body.
The gray was a wall, ugly and spare. Ugh, no Tyger would use that hue in decor. It was the color of space rock.
And the black was the very large, solid shoulder of the male underneath her.
A single eyeball appeared, staring at her. A spy-bot, humming and clacking, its eye contained in a silvery orb. With a supreme effort, Mia lifted her hand, just enough to swat the bot away.
"Now, now," chirped one of the voices. "Be kind to our tech, please."
"Yes," said voice two. "And lie still while our medtech does... this."
Someone—or something—lifted her hair aside. Something sharp pricked the back of her neck above the collar of her flight suit. Mia let out a yelp at the electric sting, and flapped her hand again.
But then... ahhh. Blessed, soothing warmth flowed outward through her body. Mia purred with relief. A gesic of some kind—oh, thank the Great Tygress. She relaxed into the warm prickling. In a moment, her malaise receded, along with the sense of being battered and beaten. Even the knives in her skull ceased their stabbing.
Cautiously, she planted her hands on the chest of the male underneath her, drew her legs underneath her enough to straddle his lean hips, and rose onto her hands and knees.
Oh, Great Tygress, goddess of all.
For a moment, all she could do was stare. He was... most impressive.
The black she'd seen was his flight suit, the male counterpart to her own fitted black suit with high collar, and the GSR emblem on one shoulder.
Much bigger than she, he was even taller than the Tyger males of her family, with broad shoulders and a lean physique. His skin was tanned, as if he spent most of his time outside, but his hair, which was cut very short, was a shade of reddish-blond that never occurred in her people. Even his brows and his long, thick lashes were auburn, instead of dark.
In repose, his face was lean, with high cheekbones and hard jaw, his brows heavy. Her gaze caught on his wide, firm mouth, and she had to curl her nails into the soft fabric of his flight suit to keep from reaching to touch his face. His lips were soft, plush, slightly chapped as if from the sun and wind.
He was not only big, he was extremely attractive. He was... well, starry—for a non-Tyger, that is.
But if he wasn't Tygean, what race was he? Possibly human, or Serpentian. The only other race she could think of with height, appearance and coloring like his were the Aurelians. But the idea of that humorless, warlike race sending a contestant to a reality show was so ridiculous it was laughable. She smirked to herself.
"Ah, the female finds him pleasing," one of the voices said slyly. "They will do well together."
Mia blinked, and remembered she was not alone with this male.
Also, she had absolutely no idea who he was, or where they both were.
What was she doing, mooning over him and his possible origins? She was here for the Race, and he clearly was too. And they were no longer on the space ship she'd boarded in Lyonsgate City, that was for certain.
Goddess, could they already be in the Paragon galaxy? Had they 'jumped'? Was that why she felt as if she'd been pummeled by a Gorglon?
She rose cautiously to her feet, tossed her head to shake the untidy mass of her hair from her face, and turned to find the source of the voices.
She froze, staring.
No wonder the voices had sounded odd. They were emanating from universal translators worn by beings she'd never encountered, even in travel holovids.
The beings were short—only waist-high to Mia—and squat, with round heads and skin so pale it was nearly translucent. Their shock of hair, by contrast, was ebony.
The being in the room with Mia had brilliant, iridescent red stripes in his—or her hair.
The holovid being hovering alongside had hair striped with purple. Both red and purple stripes stood up at each temple like insectoid feelers, waving above both beings' heads.
Their eyes were shiny and black, their noses and mouths small in their milky visages. They were clad in identical black capes which covered their bodies, leaving only their heads visible. They wore the Race insignia on their shoulders, too.
A strange droid stood between the two beings. It was blue, with a 'head' complete with holocam sensors, and a lighted probe protruding from the center.
"Oh," she blurted. "I'm there, aren't I? I mean here. In the other galaxy." She swayed on her feet, dizzy with realization, or perhaps the aftermath of the vicious jump.
"You are indeed," Red chirped. "Welcome, Mia Jag, Tygress, to the Paragon Galaxy, planet Primaera, in the Central Alliance Sector. You are honorably housed in Octiron Media's glorious Headquarters."
Oh, Great Tygress protect her. Mia sucked in a long, shaky breath. For a sec she wanted to curl on the floor and mrrowl in fear. She'd traveled off planet Bryght before, but always with her parents. And she'd surely never been this far from home.
As if sensing her unease, Red spoke again. "You traveled well, young Tygress. Quickly revived by our medic droid, no injuries to speak of."
"You mean that droid?" Mia nodded at the blue droid, which hummed to life, flashing red lights as if in agreement.
"Yes. Do not worry, these droids are programmed only to help, never to harm. And in your case, no intrusion was required. You are a perfect candidate for the Great Race."
Mia nodded politely, rubbing her hands on the thighs of her flight suit. Thank the Tygress they hadn't considered any 'intrusion' necessary. That probe was really big and sharp. "Thank you. Uh, who are you?"
"We are your Great Space Race—also called GSR—introductory handlers." Red gave an odd side-to-side shake of the head and bowed. "Here to escort you to meet with your fellow contestants at the opening ceremonies."
"Are you... Egglantian?"
Both beings narrowed their eyes and made chittering sounds like angry ger-fowl. "No! We are Skorl," snapped Red. "Far superior to those silly Egglantians. They could not have survived the travails we have known."
The holovid partner nodded. "Yes, tell this young one of our tragic history."
Mia held up her hand. "I would love to hear all about it, really. But may we please postpone it for a bit? Right now, shouldn't you and your medbot droid be helping this male? He is still unconscious, which means he was injured worse than I in the journey here. Perhaps he hit his head, or—or he's internally injured."
It was just wrong to see such a powerful male so helpless. And if he was anything like a Tyger male, he would so not appreciate them seeing him like this.
"The journey does seem to be harder on males," Red said. "But do not worry about this fellow."
Purple tittered again. "Yes, explain, Bartoo, why he is better off incapacitated for now."
Mia's eyes widened, and she backed away, eying the unconscious man warily. "Wait, what? Is he some kind of galactic criminal, or something?"
He certainly looked tough enough. Even unconscious, his face held an essential hardness, as if he was accustomed to a life of adversity. She just hoped they hadn't found him on Deep Six, her galaxy's prison planet, or somewhere like that.
Or worse, what if he was one of those cyborgs, enhanced and trained to fight as gladiators? She'd heard all about them on the holovid news. Sheriff Joran Stark and his people had rescued a number of them from a casino space station where the cyborgs had been forced to fight for the amusement of the rich and ruthless. Mia was happy for the cyborgs' rescue, but that didn't mean she wanted to hang out with one of them.
And now that she examined this man's hands more closely, they were large, powerful, scarred and calloused in a way that said he participated in either hard labor or martial arts. And he did not have the look of a laborer. He was a warrior. But what kind of warrior? Good or evil?
The Red Skorl moved closer, with a whirring sound as if riding on some mechanism. "I will awaken him. But Purloo is correct. You should prepare yourself, Tygress, for, erm, possible hostility." The blue droid hummed after the Skorl, stopping near the male's head.
"What?" Mia whirled, her gaze darting about the room for an exit. She found a hatch in one wall. "Open that," she ordered. "If you are concerned he may be hostile, whoever he is, I certainly don't want to be trapped in here with him."
"You must learn to get along with him," Purple, or Purloo said, with a grin that no longer reassured Mia. "Why do you think you were transported together? He is your partner for the Race."
"What? Not if I can help it," Mia muttered, backing away toward the door. She watched warily as the droid settled beside the warrior's prone/supine head. The droid pushed out a blue, glowing device and swept it back and forth over, but not touching the man's skull, before settling at his temple.
"What is it doing?" Mia asked.
"Manipulating his molecular structure in order to heal the tissues injured by his journey here."
Mia shuddered. That was powerful stuff. She was sure her own galaxy contained similar tech, but she'd never encountered it, having rarely been ill, or injured beyond needing gesics and the occasional heal-pad here and there.
However, the Skorls had used this tech on her, so she guessed her own molecules had already been manipulated. Now to hope this man woke up in a good mood.
He didn't.
Several things happened in swift succession. The male woke with a jolt. His eyes flew open, his body stiffened, and he sucked in a deep, harsh breath.
With a swiftness Mia had seldom seen in races other than her own, he vaulted off the floor, batted the droid away from him so that it skimmed across the room to crack against the far wall.
The warrior landed on his feet, crouched slightly, clearly ready to attack.
Then he scowled as he reached up to touch a gleaming com-link unit which curved around the shell of his right ear. It was black, and glittered with a gaudy insignia picked out in jewels. "What is this?" he demanded in a voice as deep and cold as the ice fissures she'd seen on a travel holovid of the polar caps on Frontiera. "You've planted surveillance on me."
What? Mia reached under her heavy fall of hair. She winced at the weird numbness of her own ear. They'd implanted a new com unit on her too. Which meant they'd taken her own personal com unit.
The warrior's long, powerful arm flashed out. He snatched the Skorl off the floor and held the little alien in mid-air, aiming a deadly glare. "Explain."
The Skorl hung from his grasp, but could not speak in the warrior's choking grasp.
As Mia gasped, the warrior's gaze flew to her, and raked her from head to toe and back again. Then dismissed her without a trace of emotion in his pale, icy green gaze.Whereas she was left feeling as if she'd been dipped simultaneously in pure ice and scalding hot liquid, then flung aside.
Her hands clawing at her sides, she took a shaky breath and let it out. Her face heated, and another kind of heat burst to life inside her middle—fury.
How dare this insolent male eye her like a gremel fruit not fit for consumption? Not to mention the way he was treating the poor being who had just awakened him.
"It is not surveillance," Purloo chattered from the holovid. "Well...not only surveillance. It is for your safety, I assure you. All contestants must wear them."
"Where is my own com?" he demanded. "You will return it at once."
"I cannot do so. But don't worry, it is safe, as is yours, young Tygress. They will be returned at the conclusion of the race."
The male did not look appeased by this. "I want it now."
Oh, for Tygress sake. Mia wanted hers back too, as it was lovely and had been a gift from her parents. But it wasn't worth killing for. And deadly warrior or not, she was not putting up with his behavior.
"Release the Skorl," Mia ordered him. Her voice shook a little, which only infuriated her more. She stepped forward, her chin high. "They are here to help us. Show some respect."
The warrior tilted his head and examined the small being in his grasp with chilly interest. The Skorl's face was turning blue, eyes bulging. It was going to perish if someone didn't stop this barbarian—and since no one else seemed to be coming to its rescue, that left her.
"Release her at once!" Mia repeated.
"Him," Purple chirped helpfully. "Bartoo is male. I, Purloo, am female."
Male or female, the little being was going to die of asphyxiation or massive injury if someone didn't make this big barbarian release him.
Righteous anger flaring, burning away her own fear, Mia dashed forward to grasp the warrior's hand in both of hers. "Release him, or I'll claw your hand to ribbons. Then I'll rearrange your face."
And she could do it too. Even when not in shift, a sufficiently provoked Tyger was fully capable of protracting thick, dangerous claws from their nail beds. Her fingertips burned as her Tyger claws emerged, digging into his warm, tensile flesh.
The warrior glared down at her clawed grip, from which his blood welled, red as her own. He was humanoid, so he should be feeling intense pain—hands held sensitive nerves necessary for precision touch.
But instead of wincing, he sneered, his chiseled mouth curled up at one side, his nostrils flared. "You're Tygean," he said, his deep voice as unimpressed as his gaze. He snorted. "Sheathe your puny claws. I've no reason to kill this creature."
"No indeed," chirped Purple from the holovid. "Also, fear not, Tygress. We Skorl do not breathe as you humanoids do."
"That's no excuse to treat you so brutally," Mia snapped. Flexing her claws deeper into his flesh, she swallowed a gag at the feel of hot blood on her hands, and bared her teeth at him. "Let. Go."
Slowly, the male inclined his head in a mocking bow. "As you command, little felinoid."
He opened his grasp. The Skorl dropped like a stone. Mia let go of the warrior's hand and reached to rescue the small being from being smashed on the floor, and was dragged down with Bartoo, her arms caught in his cape. She landed hard on her knees, and let out a muffled murrp of pain.
The little Skorl grimaced, his button nose twisting to one side along with his small mouth. "Apologies, Tygress. My mechanism is somewhat weighty. You are injured again?"
Too proud to show weakness in front of the male who had just called her felinoid in a tone that made it sound like an insult, Mia set her jaw against the strong urge to yowl, and shook her head. "As long as you're all right, Skorl."
She stood, her knees protesting all the way, and glared at the warrior. She would not show pain in front of this savage.
He unfortunately did not notice her bravery. He'd turned away to survey the room.
"Open this portal at once," he ordered. And such was the command in his voice that Mia wouldn't have been at all surprised if the hatch slid open immediately.
But it did not. Instead, Purloo spoke again. "We will open the portal for you both, as soon as you have signed the requisite documents, agreeing to the terms and conditions of the race."
She handed them both small holo-tablets with a virtual document highlighted.
Mia was certain she already knew what it said—a version of wherefores and whereases that exempted Octiron Corporation from any liability, and guaranteed the contestants basically nothing. Nevertheless, she scanned it carefully. She had not worked in her father's offices for nothing.
Sure enough, at the end she found the claws among the fur, 'Participant will not hold the corporation liable in the event of any personal loss, injury, death or dismemberment.'
Well, she'd figured that language would be included. It was no different than the doc she and her friends had signed last year when they visited the theme park in Rawwr City. She touched the tablet experimentally, and the outline of a palm print appeared. Blowing out a quick breath, Mia placed her palm over it. The tablet glowed, hummed, and then went quiet. She handed the tablet back to Bartoo.
The warrior had already signed his tablet. As the portal opened, he looked through it, and then walked out into the brightly lit space beyond. He spoke over his shoulder, without bothering to look back. "Follow me."
"Arrogant caninoid," Mia hissed, voicing the worst insult she could think of.
Both Skorls tittered. "Oh, no," Red said brightly, whirring after the warrior toward the open hatch. "He is not a shifter, like yourself. He is Aurelian."