Sunlight Moonlight

Micah bolted upright, all his senses alert as he gazed around the darkened room. Something was wrong.



He glanced at Lainey, sleeping soundly beside him, then slid out of bed and padded quietly to the window and drew the curtains aside. A full moon hung low in the sky, bathing the grounds in a pale yellow light.



Head cocked to one side, he listened to the stillness, his gaze sweeping the moon-dappled yard. And then he saw it - a dark silhouette darting from tree to tree, gradually making its way closer to the front of the cabin.



Cursing softly, Micah went back to the bed, placed one hand over Lainey's mouth, then gently shook her shoulder.



She woke with a startled cry, the sound muffled by his hand.



"They've found us," Micah whispered. "Get dressed."



Lainey stared up at him, his words dissolving the cobwebs of sleep from her mind. Moving quickly, she got out of bed and pulled on a pair of jeans, a heavy sweater, and sneakers.



She glanced over her shoulder to see Micah pulling a black sweatshirt over his head. Like her, he was also wearing jeans and sneakers.



"I'm ready," she whispered, hoping he didn't hear the nervous quiver in her voice.



Micah nodded. Grabbing the transmitter from the dresser drawer, he shoved it under his sweatshirt; then, as quietly as possible, he opened the bedroom window, helped Lainey climb over the still, and followed her outside.



Turning, he closed the window, then grabbed Lainey's hand and ran toward the tree-studded hill that rose behind the cabin.



They had just reached the tree line when a man shouted, "Over here!"



"Tjete!''Micah swore under his breath as he recognized Mac's voice. "Run, Lainey!" he said, pushing her in front of him.



Without stopping to look back, Micah ran after her, scrambling up the side of the hill.



"Cut 'em off, Gene!" Mac hollered. "I've got you covered!"



There was the sound of footsteps crashing through dry underbrush, and then a dark shape rose up out of the blackness of the night.



"Stop!" Gene commanded. "I don't want to shoot."



Fearful for Lainey's life, Micah grabbed her by the arm and pushed her behind him.



There was the roar of a gunshot, a slash of white-hot pain as the bullet buried itself in the muscle of Micah's left arm.



Pain and anger warred within him, kindling the primal instinct to survive, to protect one's mate. Without conscious thought, Micah focused his gaze on the man called Gene, felt the energy swell and coalesce from deep within him.



The man screamed, a terrible high-pitched shriek of agony. Slowly, as if all his bones were dissolving, he toppled forward and rolled down the hill.



Micah whirled around, reaching for Lainey, when a second shot reverberated through the night.



Time seemed to have slowed, crystalizing every sound, every movement. He stared at Lainey in disbelief as she stumbled backward, her hand flying to her chest before she crumpled to the ground. Even in the darkness, he could see the dark crimson stain soaking her sweater.



With a feral cry, he turned on Mac, who was creeping up behind him. For a moment that seemed to stretch as long as infinity, they stared at each other.



A vile oath enipted from Mac's lips as he raised the gun, his finger curling around the trigger.



Rage unlike anything he had ever known suffused Micah. He felt the power boiling up inside him, burning out of control.



Time seemed to stop as Mac fired the gun.



Micah felt the searing heat of the bullet, a sharp stab of pain as the slug buried itself high in his right shoulder.



The sound of the gunshot echoed and re-echoed in the stillness of the night. A plume of blue-gray smoke eddied from the barrel of the revolver, slowly rising toward the sky.



Fury as cold as the outer reaches of space rose up within Micah, overshadowing everything else. He felt the deadly power flow out of him, hotter than the fuel that propelled his ship, more devastating than the firestorms of Orizzon.



A long, agonized cry of pain and fear blotted out all other sound as Mac's skin blistered and turned black until nothing remained but a pile of charred ashes.



Shock had rendered Micah's wounds momentarily numb. Knowing it wouldn't last, he shoved the transmitter into his pants pocket, then yanked off his sweatshirt. He tore off one of the sleeves, made a thick pad, and placed it over the gaping wound in Lainey's chest.



Tearing the rest of his sweatshirt into strips, he wrapped them tightly around her chest to hold the makeshift bandage in place, and then he gathered Lainey into his arms and carried her up the mountain.



As the shock wore off, so did the numbness in his arm and shoulder. Each step jarred the bleeding wounds, sending shafts of bright white pain lancing through him, and still he kept going, doggedly putting one foot in front of the other.



He was covered with perspiration when, at long last, he reached the top of the mountain.



Gently, he placed Lainey on the ground. He gazed at her for a moment, and then he pulled the transmitter from his pocket and activated the distress signal.



With luck, Pergith would still be in the area.



Sitting down, Micah drew Lainey into his arms and held her close, trying to warm her with the heat of his own body. He'd always been lucky, he thought as he rocked her gently back and forth. Always. He'd come through numerous disasters unscathed, had singlehandedly battled his way off a cannibalistic planet, had rescued three children from a burning building on Quinton Rells, had survived the crash of his ship.



He stroked Lainey's hair, praying that his luck hadn't run out.



He could feel her temperature rising even though her body was trembling as though cold.



"Lainey? Lainey, can you hear me?"



Her eyelids fluttered open. Her beautiful brown eyes were glazed with pain.



"Micah?"



"I'm here."



"I can't see you."



His arms tightened around her. "I'm here,cominza ."



"I'm dying, aren't I?"



"No!"



She tried to lift her hand so she could touch him, but she didn't have the strength. A single tear rolled down her cheek.



"We'll never... get married... now."



"We will, Lainey, I promise."



"Love... you..."



"Lainey!" He shook her slightly as her eyelids fluttered down. "Lainey! Don't leave me." Ah, Great God, don't let her die, please don't let her die.



He sat there through the night, holding her body close to his, heedless of the cold, of the damp ground, of the monotonous throbbing of his wounds. He thought of nothing but Lainey, of what she had come to mean to him, of how much he had grown to love her in such a short time. He could not lose her now.



Time and again, he glanced skyward, willing Pergith's ship to appear. Xanthia possessed remarkable medical technology, but even their doctors couldn't restore life once it was gone.



He placed his hand on her brow, feeling the heat radiating from her skin, the chills that wracked her body. She'd lost so much blood. How much could a human lose and still live?



The minutes passed slowly, each one like an eternity, and then, in the darkest hour before the dawn, he heard the faint whir of a ship.



Looking up, he saw Pergith's spacecraft break through the clouds to hover directly overhead. The bottom hatch opened; a moment later, a transporter beam carried Micah and Lainey up into the ship.



"Zermicazyne!" Pergith entered the transporter room, his arms outstretched in welcome, until he saw Micah's burden. "Tjete," he swore softly, "who have you got there?"



"Her name is Lainey St. John, and she's badly hurt."



"It is against regulations to bring an earthling on board an exploratory vessel," Pergith said. "I could lose my commission."



"Your commission be damned," Micah said curtly, and before Pergith could argue or ask any more questions, Micah swept past him, carrying Lainey down to the hospital deck.



A doctor and two medic assistants, both dressed in light gray jumpsuits, looked up as Micah burst into the room and placed Lainey on one of the examining tables.



"She's dying," he said, choking on the words. "Do something."



"You do not look so good yourself," Pergith remarked, entering the room behind Micah. "Maybe you should climb up on the other table?"



"Lainey first," Micah insisted.



"We will take care of her," the doctor said, pulling on a pair of sterile gloves. His gaze swept over Micah, noting the dried blood on his left arm and right shoulder. "Do not worry, commander. Rathe, take Commander Zermicazyne into the other room and look after his injuries."



"I am all right," Micah said, not wanting to leave Lainey's side.



"I am the commander of this ship," Pergith said firmly, "and you will do as Doctor Corda has ordered." Clasping his hands behind his back, Pergith fixed his gaze on the doctor's face. "I want him to have a complete examination."



"Pergith!"



"Head to foot," Pergith said. He glanced back at Micah. "I will be in my quarters when you are through, Commander."



Micah glared at his old friend, but there was nothing to do but obey. He wasn't on Earth now. Technically, he was on Xanthian soil, and Pergith was in command.



He glanced over his shoulder as he followed the medic out of the room. Lainey's face was as pale as the thin white cloth that had been placed over her. Her hair, as black as the crystals of Maddorriah, only emphasized her lack of color. But it was the dark crimson stain on her chest that held his gaze. She had been badly hurt, and it was all his fault.



Following the medic into the next room, Micah striped off his clothing and stretched out on the exam table, feeling its built-in warmth relax him until he was hardly conscious of the dull ache in his arm and shoulder.



He closed his eyes as the medic quickly and expertly washed the wounds with warm water laced with a soothing antiseptic, sprayed his arm and shoulder with a pungent disinfectant, and neatly stitched the wounds. When that was done, the medic applied the lazerpad which would accelerate healing and eliminate scarring.



With the injuries taken care of, the medic subjected Micah to an in-depth physical examination, pronouncing him in remarkably good health in spite of the blood he had lost.



"I will make my report to Commander Pergith," the medic said. "You should report here for a recheck when the stitches disappear."



Micah nodded as he hopped off the table, his only thought to see how Lainey was.



"You will find a clean uniform in the closet," the medic said as he took his leave.



Minutes later, dressed in a regulation Fleet uniform, Micah returned to the main operating room. Fear coiled around his heart as he entered the compartment, which was ominously silent. Lainey rested on a long white table, covered by a dark green, temperature-controlled blanket. The doctor stood beside the table, his face grave as he listened to her heartbeat. He glanced up as Micah entered the room.



"How is she?"



"Not good," the doctor replied. "There has been considerable blood lost. The wound itself is not fatal, but..." The doctor shook his head. "Her prospects for survival are not favorable at this time."



"What does that mean, exactly?"



"She needs blood. Human blood, but of course, we have none on board."



"Take mine."



The doctor shook his head. "No."



"Why not?"



"We have never mixed our blood with this species."



"Just do it."



"Very well, but I will not be responsible for the consequences to the earthling - or to you, Commander."



Micah nodded impatiently. "Just get on with it."



"This is most irregular," the doctor muttered, but he quickly performed the necessary preliminaries, and in a matter of minutes, Micah's blood was mingling with Lainey's.



He stared at the narrow tube that carried the blood from his veins to hers. On Earth, his blood had appeared to be brown, but now it was again a dark, dark red.



Please, just let her live. The silent prayer repeated itself in his mind over and over again as he watched the life-giving force trickle into Lainey's veins. But would it be life-giving, he wondered, or would his own blood poison her system, robbing her of the last breath of life?



He was light-headed when the procedure was finished, but he refused to leave her again.



The doctor cleared his throat. "I believe Commander Pergith expects you in his quarters."



"He can wait."



The doctor and the medic exchanged disapproving glances. To disobey one's superior on board ship was akin to mutiny.



Exasperated and obviously confused by Micah's devotion to an Earth woman, or perhaps to any woman, the doctor brought Micah a chair, insisting that he sit down before he fell down.



With a sigh, Micah did as he was told. For the first time in his life, he didn't care about obeying orders, didn't care about the rules and regulations that had always governed his life. He wasn't leaving Lainey's side until... he swallowed the lump in his throat... until he knew she was better or dead.



Time passed unnoticed as he sat beside her, her hand, so cold and limp, clutched in his, his gaze locked on her face. Gradually, the color returned to her cheeks, her hand grew warm, and then, with a sigh, she opened her eyes.



"Lainey?"



She turned toward the sound of his voice. And then a faint smile touched her lips.



"Micah," she murmured drowsily, "I had the strangest dream..." She frowned, her words tapering off as she took in her surroundings. "Where are we?"



His hand squeezed hers. "We're on board a spacecraft."



"A flying saucer?"



Micah nodded. "Pergith came for me."



"But..." She lifted a hand to her chest, felt the slight bulge of a bandage beneath the sheet. "I was shot." She stared at him, alarmed. "You were shot. I don't understand..."



"Everything is all right, Lainey." He stood up and kissed her cheek. "Rest now."



She grabbed his forearm. "Where are you going?"



"I must see Pergith."



"Don't leave me."



"You'll be all right," he said reassuringly. "I won't be gone long."



"Promise?"



"I promise. Try to get some sleep."



She nodded, but of course sleep was out of the question. She was on a spaceship! The table beneath her was warm, pulsing as though it were alive. The walls and ceiling were a clear, soft white. She peered over the edge of the table; the floor was green and glowed faintly.



There were a number of strange-looking objects on a low shelf.



She felt a moment of apprehension as a man clad in a pale green shirt and pants walked into view. He was tall and slender, with short, wavy, yellow-gold hair and hazel eyes fringed with pale lashes. His ears were very small, smaller even than Micah's. There was webbing on his hands.



"How are you feeling?" he asked in a well-modulated voice.



"Fine, thank you." She couldn't help staring. Or grinning, when she saw that the doctor was staring, too.



"I am Doctor Corda," he said. "Forgive me for staring, but you are the first earthling I have observed up close. I had been told our people were very similar, but this is the first chance I have had to see for myself."



"Am I going to be all right?"



"I believe so." He brushed the hair from her brow, frowning thoughtfully as he bent down to look at her left ear more closely. "Do you mind?" he asked politely, and then he lifted her hands, first one, then another, turning them over carefully. "Interesting," he murmured. "Most interesting."



He smiled apologetically. "Forgive me. You need to rest. Zermicazyne will no doubt return shortly."



With a brief nod, the doctor left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.



Lainey stared after him, wondering if she was home in bed dreaming the wildest dream of her life.



"If this is a dream, Lainey St. John," she muttered with a shake of her head, "you've outdone yourself this time."



Suddenly overcome with weariness, she closed her eyes and tumbled down, down, into darkness.



"Have you lost your sanity?" Pergith demanded. "Bringing an earthling on board my ship?"



"I could not let her die."



"Her fate is not your concern. You should have contacted us immediately after your ship crashed. What have you been doing down there for so long?''



Micah stared up at his friend. He had grown up with Pergith. They had been raised in the same nursery home. Gone to the same school. Trained together. But now Pergith was like a stranger. Had he always been so rigid, so disciplined, so devoted to obeying every nuance of the law?



Micah gave himself a mental shake. Pergith hadn't changed. He had.



"My transmitter was not working. I could not contact you, and I did not signal you because there were earthlings who knew a ship had crashed in the area. These people know of us, Pergith. They have captured some of us, studied us."



"How do you know this?"



"I know," Micah replied wearily. Feeling as though he hadn't slept for years, he stood up, swaying slightly. "I am going to go check on Lainey, and then I am going to get something to eat and go to bed."



"I will have Stacha bring you a tray."



"Thank you."



"Rest well, my friend."



Micah nodded, then left the commander's quarters.



He went immediately to check on Lainey. She was sleeping soundly, one hand tucked beneath her cheek, her lashes making dark crescents against her skin.



Suddenly overcome by weariness, Micah sank down in the chair beside the examining table and closed his eyes.



Lainey was going to be all right, and that was all that mattered.