Usually she zipped down the cord and Ranth met her three quarters of the way. This time Ranth's welcoming presence wasn't there. Alone in the circuits, she surged forward, past the socket, deep into the core where time had no meaning.

Coldness. Isolation. Empty, frozen circuits with no spark of life reminded her of a planet too far from its sun to feel any heat.

Ranth. Are you here?

Icy silence.

Dora forged onward past wiring and hardwire, plunging into the area of Ranth's self-awareness deep in the core. Steering by pure instinct, she veered toward the biomatter, preying for a spark of sentience. Where was Ranth? She sensed... no life.

Inky darkness, obscured her last glimmer of hope. Ranth was gone. Dead. His personality had had nowhere else to retreat. Although the living organism of his brain remained alive at a cellular level, she couldn't find one particle of intellectual activity.

Dora began to withdraw, spied a vault that jiggled a memory. Stopping her retreat, she circled the void, wondering if Ranth could have hidden here. She saw no way in.

No way to communicate. Had he locked himself down tight?

And if he opened for her, would the dampening field destroy what was left of him?

Once she would have known exactly what to do. But she'd been unable to keep all her knowledge. She needed data but couldn't access the correct area. Yet the vault tantalized and frustrated her with its presence.

Think.

The field vas disabling their electromagnetic drive and their suits, but the inner core was the oldest part of the oldest part of the computer, which had originated on Scartar and had once been powered by radioactive fuel rods that wouldn't cool for thousands of years. Technically, there was enough power in the core to preserve Ranth, but if he remained alive, how could she contact him?

On Scartar the builders had created this vault to protect the computer records in case a starship crashed. The records needed to he preserved in order to discern if a ship went down due to an attack or from human or mechanical error. Obviously, the original engineers had a way to recover those records, and Dora needed lo discover their method.

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The key could be anything, DNA, a pa.s.sword, a retinal scan. Reluctant to give up, but stumped, Dora circled the vault again, but saw nothing that would permit her to enter.

Determined to figure out the puzzle. Dora considered mechanical and physical means to open the vault, but every one of them put Ranth at risk-if he was still alive.

Her loops began to loop, but she didn't mind. Perhaps she'd miss something the first go-round.

Ranth? Talk to me.

A strange sensation, like a breeze blowing through her hair, summoned Dora. At first she ignored the whisper of the breeze, but the wind plucked and pulled, strengthening to a hearty gale. Then gusting at tornado strength, the maelstrom forced her back. Back. Back.

Tumbling, mind spinning, buffeted, she retreated from the sucking core, stumbled amid a mind-blowing torrent of windy confusion. Lost in the storm, she had no anchor.

"Dora. Open your eyes. d.a.m.n it, Dora." The voice p.r.i.c.ked and poked and prodded.

Dora opened her eyes to find herself back in her body. Zical was running his hands up and down her arms over her shoulders, skimming down her back, creating a sizzling sensation of pure desire. Oh my. His hands on her skin, the tingling, was oh, so lovely.

After the coldness of her mental journey, she ached to throw herself against his chest and revel in the warmth of life.

Eyes lull of concern, he glared at her. "Are you all right?"

"I... think so."

He stopped caressing her skin, but with her every cell stimulated to the max, she surmised he must have been touching her for quite some time Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s had swelled and her nipples had pebbled to hard little points. Everyone else on the bridge deliberately looked away, a sure sign they saw and pretended not to notice. She supposed she should be embarra.s.sed but she simply couldn't summon that human trait. Instead, she was glad her body reacted properly. The stimuli excited her with a nervous energy that made her want to kiss Zical again, but she reminded herself that his concern was friendly, not pa.s.sionate.

He locked gazes with her, a.s.sessing her frankly. "You've" been gone for hours. I tried shouting at you, but you didn't even flinch."

"I couldn't hear you."

"So I started rubbing your skin."

"So that was the breeze I felt."

"Breeze?"

"Never mind." She didn't want to tell him that the breeze had grown into a whirlwind of need. That if not for his touch, she might still be inside, trying to figure a way into the vault. Even as she recognized her own physical desires, she understood now was not a good time or the right place to pursue her need "If Ranth is there, he's 113.

hidden himself so deep I couldn't reach him. But the good news is that if we stop the dampening effect, be may be alive. Has our situation changed?"

Zical handed her a gla.s.s of water, avoiding a direct answer hiding his feelings behind the wall he'd carefully built to keep her out. "We're rationing water. Life support continues to function. Without the computer we're flying blind."

She sipped, appreciating the cool liquid on her parched throat, satisfied that she'd spied a telltale glimmer of intensity revealed he'd been more concerned about her than he cared to let on. "Sorry, if Ranth's there, I couldn't find a way to reach him."

Two days later the dire situation aboard the Verazen hadn't changed. One of the scientists had found gold cloth to be used for trading and they'd used glue and ingenuity to cover their nudity, the men wearing loincloths, the women togas. Dora had taken to wearing her link too Ranth over her shoulders like a necklace in case she had occasion to plug in fast.

A chemist had found a way to mix the nutrients for the materializers into the water, so no one was starving, and he'd created primitive batteries to power water recyclers so they could use as much as they needed far drinking and washing. Theoretically, they could survive until their captors towed them to their destination. But the mood on the ship remained somber, the tension high, as they all wondered what would happen to them.

The inability to escape the tractor beam and their captors wore on everyone's nerves. Zical and Cyn had worked with a team of engineers and Dr. Laduna's scientist's to come up with a scheme to break the tractor beam. Nothing worked. Although the crew reported to their stations, there was nothing for them to do.

Zical had everyone training to resist an attack, but Dora suspected that his orders were more to keep people occupied than fight off their captors. Any ent.i.ties with enough technological superiority to neutralize their ship and their weapons were unlike to lose a battle of hand-to-hand combat.

With Zical busy a.n.a.lysing, a.s.sessing, and keeping up morale, Dora spent much of her free time with Kirek. Since Ranth was no longer present to help with the boy's studies, she tutored him in computer science because that was one subject she knew much more about than he did. Kirek proved to be an excellent pupil, his interests eccentric and far-ranging. When his lessons ended, they pa.s.sed many enjoyable hours discussing philosophy, religion, and politics, and ethics. Most of all, Dora liked being needed.

Kirek might have the intellectual capacity of a genius, but he was also a small boy, far from home and without none of the people who loved him most-his parents. With the hyperlink down, he missed communications with them, and she tried keep him busy. They played cards, chess and Kirek's favourite, Farmat. The child loved to gamble, and between his love of numbers, luck, and Dora's preoccupation with freeing Ranth 114.

from the vault, the child often won, showing an apt.i.tude, for complex and skillful playing.

Dora had thought he'd prefer his own room, but she soothed Kirek's sudden awakenings in the middle of the night due to nightmares by cuddling the little boy until fell back to sleep. Taking care of him, spending so much time with him over just a few days, brought them closer together than she'd have thought possible.

Until Kirek, she'd thought only in the abstract about someday having children. But she was just beginning to understand the many ways that people loved and how this kind of bond enriched her life, so despite their captivity, Dora was content on several levels.

Although impatient to continue their mission, although inpatient to form a different and deeper bond of friendship with Zical, she appreciated this time with the child more than she believed possible. His sweet innocence combined with his extraordinary abilities made him a compatible roommate. Both of them didn't quite fit in with the others on board Accepted but set apart, Dora and Kirek had much in common- including a fierce desire to complete their mission.

The ship had been in tow for five days when a solar system appeared on their vidscreens. Seven planets four of them with cities large enough to be visible from s.p.a.ce.

A cla.s.s four sun. Busy s.p.a.ce traffic between the three inner three worlds.

Zical rapped on the door, interrupting a story Dora was telling Kirek. "Can I come in?"

"What's up?" Dora's pulse sped at the sight of him, but she kept her glance composed. Zical looked as if he hadn't slept since they'd dropped out of hypers.p.a.ce.

Shadows haunted his eyes and dark circles revealed his stress and the burden and responsibility he had as commander. Yet his shoulders remained squared due to the tension in his muscles. She wished she could work out the knots out of his shoulders, touch him, as he'd touched her to pull her out of the computer. Just thinking about his hands on her body had left her restless through several nights.

During the crisis, she'd stayed out of his way, but she'd admired how he'd handled his crew and the scientists, leading by example, remaining courageous in the face of danger, keeping his determination no matter the odds. But now she'd wondered if leaving him alone had been a good idea. She'd missed him and wanted to give him her support.

"We're coming into port." Zical hesitated and turned to Kirek, his legs looking wonderfully muscled beneath the short loin cloth. "How're you holding up?"

"I miss my folks," he admitted. "But Dora's been good to me."

Zical spoke to the boy as if he were a crew member.

"Kirek, we have no idea what's in store for us, but we must a.s.sume that the beings who have tow us in tow are not friendly.

"What do you want me to do?" Kirek looked up at Zical with his wide blue eyes, and it seemed incongruous to Dora this little boy should be offering to help such a 115.

strong warrior. But Zical's leadership abilities pulled the best out of people, old and young alike.

"You know how you cloaked yourself from Ranth's sensors to sneak on board?"

"You want me to do so again when we dock?" Kirek guessed.

Zical nodded. "Yes. I realize their machines may be different, and you may be unable to hide, but if you a can, you may be safer on your own than with us."

How like Zical to think about the role every member of the crew should play, including Kirek. Although she appreciated Zical's concern, for Kirek's welfare, she wished Zical had consulted her before making such a suggestion. "If he escapes, you're asking this child to live on a strange world all alone."

Kirek squeezed her land. "It's, all right. I understand."

But did Zical? Desperation made her blink back tears. "We're asking too much of you. Where will you find and shelter?" Dora directed her question at the boy, but her query was really meant for Zical.

"If I can hide from their sensors, stealing food shouldn't be so hard," Kirek said, trying to rea.s.sure her, and Dora's heart spasmed.

"You're a.s.suming they eat the same kind of food we do." Dora's throat tightened.

She wanted them to stay together so she could attempt to protect Kirek, but she understood Zical's thinking. The boy might have a better chance of survival without them. "Besides, what if these beings aren't hostile?"

"You think they dragged us out of hypers.p.a.ce to invite us to dinner?" Zical countered, his tone light as if spitting in the face of danger.

"Maybe they tried to communicate and we didn't respond. Maybe they are curious.

Maybe we trespa.s.sed in their territory. There could be any number of peaceful reasons for their actions."

"I hope you're right. And if you are, Kirek should be able to join us later without much difficulty."

"I'll try and stay close by," Kirek promised, his eyes solemn above his chubby cheeks.

Dora ached to pull the boy into her arms. Already her heart was heavy with loss, but she raised her eyes to meet Zical's, and his were hard, the decision made. She hoped he'd made the right choice, because if they survived and Kirek did not she didn't know if she'd ever be able to forgive him.

Chapter Eleven.

The aliens kept their tractor beam on the Verazen during the journey to the second planet of the solar system. From low orbit the world appeared to have a combination of enormous well-planned cities built of graceful golden reflective materials and pink stone, plus rural areas in between, seemingly without much population or organized agriculture. One giant red-hued ocean gazed back at them like the eye of doom from the polar region. About the size of Mystique larger than Rystan and Earth, the planet should possess gravity familiar enough for the crew and scientists on the Verazen to easily adapt. Dora wished she could say for certain the same about the air.

She stood on the silent and tense bridge between Kirek and Zical. Although they expected to be boarded, Zical again slowed his leadership skills as well as good sense by explaining to them that resistance probably would be ineffectual The aliens had already displayed superior technology by yanking the out of hypers.p.a.ce to bring them here. Although they had hand weapons aboard their ship, they wouldn't fire in the dampening field of the tractor beam.

Part of the crew stood by the armory ready to distribute weapons in the unlikely case that the aliens released them from the tractor beam upon landing. Zical's plan was simple. He'd ordered them to appear peaceful and calm, giving everyone time to a.s.sess, a.n.a.lyse, and think of a way to escape and continue their mission. Another skilled warrior wouldn't have adapted so quickly. Many Rystani men would fought to the death against superior technology, but Zical preferred to use his mind, showing commendable restraint. Dora had do doubt that if any man could lead them through the dangers they were about to face, it was Zical.

Meanwhile, they'd all agreed to his plan to keep Kirek hidden in the middle of the adults to avoid detection. Dora's hand rested lightly on the boy's shoulder. Of all the restless people on the bridge, he seemed the most excited. Trembling under her hand, he leaned excitedly forward, peering at the viewscreen his blue eyes wide with antic.i.p.ation.

She wished she possessed his enthusiasm. Her stomach flip-flopped in the dread at the prospect of almost certain captivity and hostility, possibly torture. She shuddered, knowing that barbaric behavior could be found among savages as well as civilizations much more technologically advanced, and a muscle in her back spasmed. And yet, despite the seeming helplessness of their situation, despite the impossible odds, she felt hope, and the approval in Zical's gaze gave her the courage to hold up her head with an irrational faith that they might yet find a way to escape and continue their mission. Her 117.

hope might contradict every fact and realistic a.s.sessment of their situation, but perhaps that paradox was also part of being human.

As if to mock their somber mood during their forced descent, the sun shone brightly in a cloudless blue sky. The tractor beam brought them in fast and hard, but they landed with a feather-light precision and a d.a.m.ning clang as metal echoed on metal like a death knell.

"Dregan h.e.l.l," Zical spoke loudly so not only the crew the bridge could hear him but also those congregated on the deck below. "People, stay together. Stay calm. And remember to keep Kirek hidden with our bodies. When we depart this ship, I want us to appear as if we are invited dignitaries, not a ragtag group of prisoners. First and foremost, we are representatives of the Federation and this is first contact with another race. Be adaptable, slow to take insult, and show them that we are a civilized people.

Understood?"

Many of them didn't understand. Although Dora spoke Rystani and Terran, she was no better off than the others. Counting on the suit to translate for her, she'd only transferred two languages into her brain to save the extra for other subjects. But the crew members who knew than one language translated for others. Without their suits to elucidate, they'd worked out a complicated system of communication to ensure that no one on board was left out. Cyn and Shannon both understood some Rystani. Cyn also spoke Federation Zenonite and repeated Zical's orders to Dr. Laduna, who in turn pa.s.sed them on to his group of scientists. The system wasn't perfect, but it worked.

When Zical spoke, his officers stood straighter. Even the scientists' nerves steadied.

And it was a measure of their respect for the captain that everyone obeyed his orders without question in the face of danger.

Heavy, armored alien vehicles on large tracks surrounded their ship and guns pointed in their direction. Zical popped the emergency manual hatch and a landing unfurled. Dora breathed in the first tropical scent of balmy air and found it not and sultry, scented with spice. She waited to keel over from poisonous gases or lack of oxygen, but her lungs pumped in a normal rhythm. So far, so good. At least they wouldn't die of asphyxiation.

Dora straightened the gold toga at her shoulder and peered through the hatch.

Sweat trickled down, her brow, and she wiped off the perspiration with the back of her hand. If she'd been wearing her suit, she'd have turned up the cooling, but she had no choice but to stand in the stifling ship as ordered. Her muscles might be flinching, her throat might be tight from tension, her mouth might be dry as a Drahanian desert, and she might be much more frightened than anyone else here, but she was d.a.m.ned if she'd show it. Knowing that she was taking a risk with her life, she'd chosen to be human.

She'd arranged to come on this mission, and she was determined to be one of them, even if her stomach churned as if she'd swallowed rocks.

Expecting soldiers with weapons to advance, Dora tensed. But the door of the armored vehicle opened and a woman stepped out, wearing so little that she had no room to hide a weapon on her person. Even from a distance, Dora could see her beauty.

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She was short compared to Rystani women and her spiked pink hair framed a sensual face that was quite humanoid. She stared at them with aggressive curry-colored eyes that gave away nothing. Baring her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, her clothing consisted of a beaded necklace of multifaceted royal-pink stones, a muted coffee -colored sarong, and brown sandals with straps that extended up her calves. She sported the muscular body of an athlete, but walked with a seductive sensuality that Dora would have liked to copy.

Striding up to the ramp without fear, she stopped at the bottom and spoke in a voice bold, husky, and authoritative. "I am Avanti and this world is Kwadii."

Dora had no difficulty understanding her words. She heard murmurs on the bridge, and as the crew realized that they could once again speak to one another in their home tongue and understand without a human translator, the comments escalated into quiet discussions. How the translation was done, Dora didn't know, but was grateful that at least communication would be clear. The situation was already tense enough without language confusions to their circ.u.mstances.

His expression serious but calm. Zical strode down ramp and stopped several feet before Avanti. The rest of them remained where they were in order to appear nonthreatening. Dora, held her breath, proud of Zical's bearing. He appeared every inch the ship's captain. Shoulders squared, chin high, he projected confidence, not arrogance, perfect combination for first contact.

As the sun glistened off Zical's powerful bronzed chest, Dora wondered if Avanti appreciated not only his masculine lines but his control over his emotions. Although Zical appeared calm, she knew he seethed with rage that the Kwadii had captured his ship, detained his people, stopped his mission. Even if he could convince the Kwadii to release them immediately, the unscheduled stop that yanked them out of hypers.p.a.ce would add untold years to their journey.