Chapter 14

She'd had enough of the creature before her. At this point, Brook didn't care if he was a Zantharian or a Hareema. He was 100% asshole either way.

No more time for mistakes. Brook thought hard about what he'd told her, attempting to determine whether he could have been telling the truth at any time.

He saved your life, she reminded herself. He could have let you drop.

It was true. And the way his body had reacted against hers. How could something like that be faked?

That still left the dilemma of Ontarii being replaced by the Hareema while they'd been separated. His being able to convince her with his words that he was what he said he was seemed unlikely.

She needed hard proof. But how?

Brook tried to remember everything he'd told her about the Hareema. They were shapeshifters, and such excellent mimics that they could imitate an object or person's molecular structure. The only way the Zantharians had been able to trace them to the Earhart had been the residue they left when they were forced to morph back into their original shapes every six to eight hours.

That's it!

An idea formed in Brook's mind, one that would enable her to ensure that the major was a Zantharian, and that he could be trusted.

She spared a glance at the main console, furiously typing in a command. Looking up suddenly, she saw that Ontarii was several paces closer, his hand outstretched and his energy weapon charged.

Brook dropped to the floor, narrowly avoiding the pulse of energy sent in her direction. She rolled forward, kicking upward to tag the alien in the back of his knees.

The Zantharian fell forward, and in a second Brook was on his back, the laser held to the base of his skull.

"Move again and I'll blast you," she growled.

"You're making a mistake," he grunted back at her. "And when you realize it, I'm going to enjoy punishing you."

Punishing me? The idea sent a shiver down her spine, but not for the reason she would have expected.

How dare he speak of punishments when he was the one face-down with a laser pointed at his skull? And why does the promise of punishment excite me?

She blocked the thought as the bridge door slid open. The four FIDOs, NASA's defense robots, plodded into the room, awaiting her command. Brook barely had time to activate them before Ontarii tried to jump her again.

"Intruder alert," all four FIDOs chanted in unison. Their shoulder weapons were revealed and aimed at the Zantharian, giving her some semblance of relief.

"Now, listen carefully," she told him. "You're going to stand up and put your hands in the air. You will not charge your bioelectric weapon. You will follow the FIDOs down the hall and do as I say. If you don't, me and my robot companions will blow a hole in you the size of Earth's moon. Do you get me?"

The Zantharian's reply was muffled, but she managed to make out a "Yes”.

Brook got off the major's back but kept her laser pistol aimed at his head. Ontarii slowly stood, brushing his hands across his chest to clear off imaginary dust.

She risked a look at his face and what she saw there hurt worse than she'd expected.

Ontarii's features were carved in stone. His eyes were colder than the emptiness of space. He was furious that she'd gotten the drop on him.

Brook could admit to herself that she was hurt. If it was Ontarii and not a Hareema agent, she'd hoped that a part of him would be proud of the plucky human captain for getting the upper hand. Instead, he was behaving like an elitist who could never accept a human female as an equal, or maybe he was just one pissed off Hareema. There was only one way to find out.

As they walked along the corridor, Brook wished she could grow eyes in the back of her head. Heck, along the sides too. She swiveled her gaze back and forth, holding her breath for a Hareema ambush at any moment.

None came.

They made it down the corridor, through the mess, and into the hall that led to the crew quarters, the infirmary and the airlock.

They came to a halt outside the airlock door. Brook hit a button to reveal the manual control panel that was a smaller version of the one on the bridge.

Brook set the controls that limited all operations of the airlock to herself, requiring a personal access code to open or close the airlock doors. Then she pressed the button to open the door.

The captain motioned with her weapon, gesturing for the Zantharian to get inside.

He towered over her, staring down at her with a face like a dark nebula, ominous and black.

"You're making a mistake," he grumbled.

"I don't think so." She nudged him forward with the barrel of her pistol, almost fully assured that the major was lost somewhere on the ship and she was standing in front of the enemy. “If I am… you can do anything you want to me when we rectify this.”

Seemed like a good deal that any hot-blooded male wouldn’t be able to pass up. Besides, if he were a Zantharian, then she owed him something for being so harsh toward him. Another kiss seemed like a mutually beneficial payment.

With one more scathing look, Ontarii stepped into the airlock and turned to face her. “Remember your words, woman. Anything.”

She gave him a sultry look, being quite an ass herself now. “That’s right. Anything the major wants.”

She hit the button on the door and opened the window shade to peer inside at him.

He had turned his back to her, and behind him was the airlock hatch. With a few taps of the console buttons, Brook could open the hatch and let the emptiness of space inside.

Without environmental controls or gravity, the Zantharian would freeze while he suffocated to death, his body floating out to join his comrades.

The major turned toward her and seemed to be trying to say something. She gave the command to initiate two-way communication between the inside of the airlock and the corridor.

"What did you say?" she asked.

Ontarii frowned at her. "Are you going to space me? Are you that fucking hysterical?"

The captain flushed with anger. "Hysterical? Do you know the etymology of that word? It's from the Greek word meaning 'womb’. A mental disorder tied almost exclusively to women. Just another way to disenfranchise the female and discount her thoughts and actions."

The major laughed. He laughed! "You're lecturing me on sexism while threatening to kill me. You humans really are too much."

"From sexism to racism, huh? I guess I should have expected it. But honestly, I think you're just upset that a puny human female was able to box you in so efficiently."

His mouth flattened into a straight line.

"I'm not even sure you are a human female," he said, his eyes like black flames. "Your reluctance to submit to my test tells me that you have something to hide."

"I submitted to your test once before. Excuse me if I'm not eager to have a thousand volts shot through me again so soon."

"A convenient pretext," he shot back. "I'm supposed to take your word that you're not an enemy agent, but you won't take mine. Not quite fair, is it?"

"I don't care about fair," she fired back. "All I care about is protecting myself and my crew, and completing my mission."

"Bang up job you're doing so far."

Brook inhaled as if she'd been slapped. It was a cheap shot. One she hadn't expected from the major.

"You know what," he said, adopting a cruel smile. "Maybe I do believe you. You are human, because, frankly, you aren't smart enough to be a Hareema agent. You're sloppy. You're weak. And, honestly, you verge on incompetent. Save your promises to give me what I want. I’ll get it as soon as I get off this fucking ship."

“And what would that be?”

“Freedom from your madness and a beautiful woman to fuck until I can’t stand.” He turned his back to her and crossed his arms over his massive chest.

His words ripped into her. Not moments before he’d held her in his arms, comforting her at the loss of her crewmember, and had kissed her more passionately than she ever remembered being kissed before.

And he'd saved her life.

But on the bridge he'd been tampering with the controls, then he'd tried to blast her with his energy weapon. It was a complete turnaround from his earlier actions.

Maybe this isn't the major. Maybe it is. Who the hell knows?

Ontarii was a prick, but he hadn't been intentionally cruel to her yet. This new asshole stabbed her left and right, his last blow about taking another woman to bed a bit more than she could handle. Perhaps it was only the newest of lust between them that made her want to know him more, but either way, his words had chilled her desire significantly.

There was a high possibility that he had been replaced, and it was the Hareema now who was goading her on, afraid for its life.

And it had good reason to be.

With the press of a couple buttons in the correct sequence, the large hatch doors before the creature would open, and it would have less than a minute before the harshness of space robbed it of life.

She didn't think even a block of jelly could withstand a vacuum.

Maybe it was time to find out.