Chapter 29

Brook kept her head on a swivel as they made their way down the corridor. She quickly realized her actions would make her look even more suspicious, so she tried to act nonchalant. It was hard to pretend she wasn’t afraid when her heart was beating a mile a minute.

Stay calm, she told herself. We can do this. It’s the only chance we’ve got.

Brook had been beyond surprised when their tiny rescuer had shown up in her cell. And now they were on their own, following the yellow line as instructed and hoping to find the docking bay.

Suddenly a creature came around the corner. Brook had to try really hard not to recoil. The smell was the main thing that had her reeling. The closest thing she could equate it to was a clogged sink. The beast was big, the color yellow with darker spots, and had barbed spines running down its curved back. Its skin looked moist, like a dripping sponge, but the smell… God, the smell!

It seemed to pay them no attention. The beast gave them a once-over and kept walking.

When it disappeared out of sight behind them, Brook breathed a sigh of relief. But their reprieve was short-lived. They followed the yellow line as it led around another corner and there stood three creatures, perhaps the most horrifying she’d seen.

They all had the shape of a human. The same human. Danner Thompson, the head of NASA.

Three sets of identical eyes turned towards them. The one closest stepped forward. He had a clipboard in his hand. “Where are you going? And why have you taken those shapes?”

“The docking bay,” Ontarii barked. “And because we were ordered to.”

Clipboard Danner looked down at his list, his pen tapping against the sheet. “I don’t see any orders for two Zantharians and a human. Aren’t these the forms of our prisoners?”

The two other Danners drew closer. One pulled a long, thin stick about two inches in diameter from his back pocket. Brook wasn’t sure what it was, but it gave her a bad feeling.

“Orders just came through. You probably don’t have the latest version.”

The Danner with the stick hit a button and the end started to glow. Definitely a weapon.

“We’re to take the prisoner to the home world for interrogation,” Ontarii said swiftly.

“Prisoner? You’re all prisoners,” Danner #3 said, his tone harsh.

“This is the Minister of Defense of Zanthar,” Ontarii said, his voice like steel. “We are the escort. Now get the hell out of our way!”

“That doesn’t explain your shapes.”

“Doesn’t it?” Ontarii snarled. “We’ve been mounting a campaign of psychological warfare against the minister for weeks now. Unfortunately, he hasn’t cracked. He’s just become more distrustful and apathetic.”

Drake chimed in. “Can I go back to my cell? I don’t know what game you Hareema bastards are playing, but count me out.”

Clipboard Danner scowled. “You expect us to believe you’re escorting this prisoner to the home world for interrogation, and he’s not even in restraints?”

Ontarii got close to the shorter man, leaning in and using all his muscle mass to intimidate him. “Why bother with restraints? He’s so far gone he doesn’t even know where he is or who he’s with. We’ve scrambled his brains good. He’s not going to run.”

“I’m hungry,” Drake said, sliding into a crouch. “Let me get more of that fish paste stuff. It’s not half bad.”

“See what I mean?” Ontarii jerked his head in Drake’s direction. “He’s not going to fight us. But if you don’t let us pass, you will be hurt. Not by me, but by the High Council when they find out you were the one to hold him up.”

Clipboard Danner swallowed. Danner #2 looked at Danner #3 who nodded his head. Danner #2 clicked off his stick and stuffed it back in his pocket.

“I’ll make a note on my order roster, then get an update from HQ to make sure it’s up to date. Go ahead and proceed. Give the High Council my regards.” Clipboard Danner started scribbling on his list, ignoring them.

“I’ll tell the High Council what a sniveling little toad you are,” Ontarii muttered, grabbing Drake’s arm and dragging him down the hallway.

Brook jogged to catch up, finally letting go of the breath she’d been holding.

A few more twists and turns and the yellow line led them out into a chamber twice the size of the room holding the prison cells. The docking bay was enormous, and there were ships of every color, size, and shape. How would they locate the Zantharian shuttle?

“We could fan out,” she suggested, “look for the shuttle separately then meet up again.”

“Too risky,” Ontarii said, turning to look around. “We’ve got to stick to the story we’ve concocted. Let’s start moving down the rows and hope we discover the shuttle before they figure out we’re not who we say we are.”

Ontarii led them as they started making their way through the rows of spaceships. As varied as the ships were, so were the shapes taken by the Hareema. There were a few in their natural state, towering blocks of jelly, here and there, but most had taken the shapes of other creatures.

Brook ignored them and concentrated on the ships. Then she realized she had no idea what they were looking for.

“What’s your craft look like?” she asked.

“If it’s our run-of-the-mill Class B shuttle, it will be a little larger than the vessel that brought us here. It’s aqua blue, with fins on the top and along the sides to use for steering. I suppose it resembles a large, spiny fish.”

Ontarii’s description was helpful, and Brook started scanning the rows for a bit of aqua blue.

“There!” Drake said, pointing down a row. “I saw a fin poking out from behind that Cerrelian cruiser.”

The trio headed in the direction Drake suggested, and soon she saw it. It did resemble a spiny fish of sorts, and the color reminded her of the Mediterranean Sea.

“How are we going to get aboard?” she asked.

They’d reached the hatch that served as the ship’s entrance and she realized then that there was no entry panel for inputting a code.

“Like this.” Drake held out a finger, emitting a tiny bolt of electricity, right at the seam of the door. The metal drew back, exposing the dark, empty cavity of the interior.

“In you go.” Ontarii pushed her forward.

As she stumbled into the main cabin, the lights began flashing on around her. Ontarii and Drake followed after her, and Drake sealed the door behind them.

Brook hung back as the males went to work. They waved hands over consoles that popped up holographic displays. She marveled at how advanced their technology was compared to Earth’s own.

No wonder they located and boarded my ship with no problems.

“According to the scan, we’re in sector XJ-3. I’ve input coordinates for a small moon not far beyond this station. I can’t put in coordinates for their bloody home world because I don’t know where it is.” Drake’s voice was strained.

“Let’s hope no one questions it,” Ontarii replied. “I’m going on manual navigation until we clear the chamber. Have scans found an exit yet?”

“Yes. I’m sending the information to your console now.”

Brook seated herself on the bench that ran along one of the walls and watched. It would be no easy task, smuggling them out of Hareema hands and back into space. Would they make it to Zanthar? Or would the Hareema find them out and come after them?

Ontarii proved to be a deft pilot, and the small ship gracefully sailed over the other ships and the creatures below.

Drake brought up the main view screen and Brook watched as they approached the exit.

“It’s not open,” Ontarii growled. “How are we supposed to get out?”

“It will open,” Drake said, his voice rough but full of certainty. “It has to open.”

“Well, the trip might end before it begins, if we crash into that hatch.”

“I’m giving you an order, Major,” Drake barked. “Head straight for the hatch. It will open.”

Ontarii nodded and they pushed forward.

Brook closed her eyes, not wanting to see her own death when it came for her.

Nothing happened. There was no crash, and the ship sailed smoothly onward.

“See, Major,” Drake said, his voice sounding cheerful for the first time since she’d met him. “Have a little faith, for Noruma’s sake.”

Ontarii laughed, then his face became serious again. “We’re not out of the woods yet.”

“Can we get a view behind us?” Brook asked. She wanted to see where she’d been kept.

The station was massive, made of a dark material that didn’t reflect the light from the stars around it. Instead, it was almost like a shadow in space. Several ships moved around it, looking toy-sized compared to the gigantic station.

All of a sudden lights began to flash around the station. Bright red lights.

“They’ve raised an alarm of some kind.” Brook’s heart jumped into her throat.

“It could be something else,” Drake said.

Ontarii frowned. “Or it could be that they’ve found our cells empty. That doesn’t change anything yet. Let’s make tracks.”

“Course laid in.” Drake glanced at the major.

“Let’s go.” Ontarii made a few taps on his display and Brook felt the craft put on a burst of speed. The crew of three spent a tense hour watching all displays and scans for any sign of the enemy coming after them.

They reached the moon that Drake had input as their original destination, and no one had come after them.

“Let’s hope it’s safe to put in our actual course,” Ontarii said, punching in the coordinates to his home planet. “We’ve got about four hours until we reach Zanthar.”

It was almost anticlimactic, their escape, in hindsight. Brook was still a bundle of nerves, sure that at any moment they would be intercepted. She shot a look at her companions.

Drake’s face was closed, too hard to read.

Ontarii’s expression was another story. There was so much there, she wasn’t sure she could untangle all of his feelings.

I wish his skin was back to normal, she thought. At least then I’d have a clue about his moods.

The thought made her feel guilty. Ontarii was still undergoing the frenzy, his skin still midnight black, and she was at least partially to blame. She shouldn’t be so insensitive, even in her own thoughts.

“I think if they were coming after us, they would have already done it.” Drake’s gruff voice broke the spell she was in.

The Minister of Defense turned to Ontarii, giving him a serious look. “We have a few hours before we reach home. That will give you the time you need to do what you need to do.”

“What do you mean?” Ontarii asked, his voice high-pitched.

He’s nervous. But why?

“You know what I mean, and you’re right. It is none of my damn business, but I’m making it as such. Take your mate into the back and do what you need to do.”

Ontarii’s face went from puzzled to furious in the space of a second. “Like I said before… That’s none of your damn business!”

“It is my bloody business,” Drake roared, and Brook was taken aback. She’d yet to see such emotion from the minister. “You can’t serve me efficiently if you’re under the frenzy’s effects. Now take that girl in the back and mate her. By the time we get to Zanthar, I want to see you green-skinned and ready to work.”

“You can’t order me to mate this woman. Who I take is my own choice.”

“The hell I can’t! You will mate her, and you will recover yourself. We need men like you in the coming days. And apparently, you’ve got a contact in the Hareema rebellion. They pulled you out for a reason. Whatever that reason is, whatever you know, we need to know. So get in there and fuck that human.”

“Hey!” Brook shouted. “You can’t order him to fuck me! Only I can choose who I sleep with, thank you very much.”

Drake eyed her. “Of course. Although I’m thinking you wouldn’t mind another piece of this one here. And don’t act like you haven’t already had a piece. You had to do something to touch off the frenzy.”

Brook blushed. “I cannot even believe we are having this conversation.”

“Believe it, Earthling.”

Ontarii growled, his fists curling into tight balls at his side. He moved closer to Drake, moments away from doing violence to his superior officer.

Drake turned to her. “If he won’t listen to reason, maybe you will. I need him. Hell, I need you too. We have a problem that needs to be dealt with. Do the responsible thing and deal with it. Now.”

Ontarii pulled back his arm, his expression saying he was about to murder his leader.

Brook stepped between the two men, looking up at the alien she loved.

“Stop,” she said, putting her hands on his arms. “He’s right.”

“I don’t care,” Ontarii snarled. “He doesn’t get to talk about you like that.”

“I appreciate your anger, I really do, but we’ve got to do as he says. Your people need you, and if this is the only way to prevent your death, then we have to try.”

Ontarii’s face softened. His fists uncurled, and he took her hands in his.

“All right, but only because you want to.”