Kirek had no answer and so restrained a heavy sigh and countered with a question of his own. "If Tirips herself stood here before you, what would convince you to believe?"

"Please answer my question."

Kirek closed his eyes. "Your questions tire me. Either believe or don't. The consequences are yours to face and do not matter to me."

What mattered was whether he would be kept here until his body grew weak, whether Kirek could hold firm until he was released. Kirek had no doubts that the interrogation would continue, that his every word was being recorded. Eventually the pressure and stress might cause him to make a mistake or error in judgment. One slipup and everything would be undone.

Kirek's best hope was that Dora and Zical would come to his rescue. But even if they could free themselves, how would they find him?

Dora and Zical ran through a set of double doors and into a long hallway lined with soft flooring, recessed lighting, and a colorful mosaic between many closed doers. The building could be residences or offices or a school. She couldn't read the curlicue symbols, on the doors that they raced past.

The corridor seemed endless. They turned right, left, and left again before the hallway widened. People, Risorians, she guessed by their elegant mode of dress, waited patiently in front of four sets of double doors. Hearts pounding, fearing someone would discover their real ident.i.ties and shout for the soldiers to arrest them, Dora and Zical slowed their pace and joined the back of the line.

Dora was certain that any moment, someone was going to recognize them, but in their Risorian clothing they didn't stick out. No one appeared to notice them except one small pink-haired child who hid behind her mother's legs. Couples spoke in low tones.

Two teenagers couldn't keep their hands off each other, and a younger man helped an older woman stand, protectively keeping his hand on her elbow.

When the double doors ahead opened with an almost silent swish, the line moved forward. People entered a large hexagonal compartment and then turned around to face the opening. As the last ones to board, Dora and Zical were nearest the doors when they closed.

Dora expected the Transport device to move sideways, but it dropped, straight downward. She prayed that when the doors opened, the soldiers they'd seen outside wouldn't be aiming guns at them. When the compartment stopped moving, the doors opened on another level that looked like the one they'd just departed. But instead of soft lighting and mosaic walls, here the lighting was brighter and the walls were of pink stone.

177.

Two people exited, leaving more room within. They dropped again, and this time when the doors opened, Dora stared wide-eyed and Zical had to tug her into the crowded transit station. She suspected from the large cavernous feeling they were underground. Crowds hurried to an a.s.sortment of platforms where long tubular pill- shaped compartments with seats whisked pa.s.sengers out of the terminal while others entered to unload.

Despite the subterranean locale and huge overhead fans, the blowing air was quite warm. Dora spied a fountain where people stopped to drink and led Zical there. She drank deeply, the cool water on her parched throat quenching her first and rehydrating her body.

"Now what?" she asked, wishing they knew where Kirek was, but feeling less vulnerable among the crowds where no one paid them the slightest attention.

"Pick a transport," Zical told her. "We need to disappear before those soldiers think to look for us here."

As if saying the words had summoned them, soldiers marched down a set of moving stairs. Dora's pulse raced. Every nerve, every instinct told her to run. And yet her brain understood that running would call attention to them. She couldn't recall ever being so at war with her mind.

It was logical to stay hidden among the crowds. To move at the same speed as the others. But when she caught sight of those soldiers, her legs quivered with the need to flee. However, even when she lost control, Zical kept an arm around her waist, guiding her toward a transport and keeping their faces turned away from the soldiers.

She was grateful for their Risorian clothing This planet didn't have offworlders.

They executed them all.

Luckily, the crowds were thick enough for them to hide. The terminal was shoulder-to-shoulder crowded, and people were to intent on arriving at their destinations to notice strangers among them.

Zical plunged into the thick of the crowd toward a transport so overfilled that people had to stand. Dora noted the last cubicle didn't have windows and pointed her chin toward it. "Let's take that one."

"Fine"

They ducked inside, using the crowd for cover. Dora wondered what kind of payment was required for the fare, but there was no machine or slot for a credit chip barring their way. Perhaps transportation was free on Kwadii.

"The moment they entered, the door closed behind them, as Dora climbed the three steps inside, she expected to see rows of seats and other people. But the capsule remained empty, reminding her of a private luxury s.p.a.cecraft.

There was a bed decorated with a sumptuous silver blanket with maroon threads and matching pillows at the far end and cooking facilities with a table at this end. She peered into a tiny cubicle and marveled at the compact shower and voiding lounge.

178.

And between was a comfortable seating area that contained a vidscreen, printed materials, sculptures, and two padded lounge chairs on swivels.

This must be a private transport," Zical came to the conclusion the same moment she did.

"Without security?"

"The only locks I've seen en this world were the ones that kept us in."

Dora thought back to the doors in the building they'd just escaped. Zical was right.

There were no locks. But could the soldiers track them in here as they had when they'd taken the skimmer? Or perhaps this compartment wasn't owned privately, but available for hire.

"We should leave," Zical began to turn back.

"Wait." Dora approached the vidscreen. "Computer on."

A woman's face peered back at her. "How may I serve?"

"We don't wish to be found."

"You require privacy mode?"

"Yes."

"Privacy mode activated."

Immediately all outside sound ceased to penetrate the transport's thick wills. Zical waited, hesitant to interrupt her conversation, with the computer.

"What does 'privacy mode activated' mean?"

"You will not be disturbed. Doors, are locked. I retire payment of-"

"Charge it to Rogar Delari Hikai, heir to the Fifth House of Seemar."

The machine would now ask for identification, a thumbprint, a retinal scan, a voice code. Dora thrust her psi into the wiring, adjusted a few circuits and withdrew.

Normally she considered this kind of alteration an illegal entry, but these were desperate circ.u.mstances. Rescuing Kirek and completing their mission to reprogram the Sentinel to guard against the Zin was worth a little computer subterfuge.

"Account charged."

Zical grinned and took a seat in a lounger. "We are searching for Tirips's Oracle."

"The Oracle... is being tested by the Selgren L'Matti."

Dora had never expected an answer. If the computer knew where to find Kirek, then Deckar must have known it too. So why had he pretended ignorance? Could Deckar be in league with Kirek's abductors? It made no sense for the Risorian to be in league with a Selgren. Perhaps Deckar hadn't truly known where Kirek had been taken when they'd last spoken and had no way to contact them since their escape. Or there might be another angle she had yet to consider.

"Can you take us to the Selgren L'Matti and the Oracle?" Dora asked.

"Yes."

179.

"We need to leave immediately," Zical ordered, and the compartment hummed, then settled into a soothing vibration as they began to move. "How long until we arrive?"

"Two days."

Dora frowned, worried that Kirek would be separated from them for so much time.

And Zical had ordered the teams to meet back at the Verazen within two days. If they pursued Kirek, they would miss his own deadline. "That's too long. How fast if we take a skimmer?"

"Travelling by skimmer is forbidden."

"Why?"

"Skimmers pollute the air. Travel by sub is the quickest route to your destination."

"Fine. Take us to a sub," Zical demanded.

"What about your orders to rendezvous in two days?" Dora asked, glad be hadn't hesitated to go after Kirek.

"Vax won't leave without us." Zical sounded certain, so she put that worry from her mind.

"You are in a sub," the computer told them. "Would you care to implement see- view mode?"

"Can we see out without others looking in?" Dora asked.

"Of course."

"Then implement see-view."

Dora expected a vidscreen to appear in a wall, or maybe for the roof to show the sky. Instead, all the walls, ceiling, and floor turned transparent, revealing a sea of molten scarlet lava and burning gases of phosph.o.r.escent orange and golds.

"Oh, my. It's beautiful." She stared outside, marveling at a craft that could transport people through boiling lava. No wonder the Kwadii world was so hot. Beneath the crust flowed seas of smoldering lava that the Kwadii had harnessed and employed to transport themselves around their world. I've never heard of this mode of transportation."

"Look." Zical pointed outside to a wide-winged creature with multicoloured eyes that swam through the lava as easily as a bird flew through air.

Dora stepped closer to Zical. "Just think. We're all alone."

"And?" Zical's dark eyebrows arched upward with humor that touched his eyes and she caught a glimpse of longing behind his I'm-always-in-control, the-mission- comes-first demeanor. Was his desire real or an illusion she'd wanted see? Yet, illusion or not, his glance captured her drawing her in like a meteorite caught in the gravitational pull of a planet.

"We have nothing to do for two entire days."

"What about Kirek, he asked.

180.

"I'm worried about him too. But there's nothing we can do for him until we arrive."

"And?" Leaning closer, she brushed her fingers gently over his brow, his cheek, his jaw. At her tender caress, his eyes darkened, the deep violet turning molten, and his heat stirred her excitement.

Her words sounded carefree, light and breathy with desire. "Remember how I told you that s.e.xual experience helps me to contact Ranth?"

"And?" He teased her with a low, husky voice that haunted her dreams. Only once before had he used that kind of heated tone, when they'd made love. And it seemed it seemed like a lifetime ago.

Her body quickening in antic.i.p.ation, she grinned. "Well, don't you think we should try to strengthen the connection?"

Chapter Seventeen.

A man could take only so much. Most Rystani warriors would have snapped long before now. Zical considered his caution a measure of inner strength. Most men would want Dora for her physical attributes alone. With her knockout curves, her gorgeous skin, and her flawless lines, she could have been a holovid star. To her credit she employed more than her looks to go after what she wanted. Her intelligence was off the chart. With all else perfection, her emotional vulnerability, her newness at being human, had held him back.

But Dora had changed and grown during this journey. Even as the blood roared in Zical's ears, he understood she no longer needed coddling. He recalled the very first time he'd heard Dora's s.e.xy voice when she'd still been a machine and how it had summoned him on a primitive level. He recalled numerous conversations where she'd teased and taunted and insinuated how much she wanted to make love. He recalled how she'd been more than ready for her first s.e.xual experience, proving that all her flirting had reflected her true nature, especially when she'd given as she took.

But she still didn't understand the primal savagery of his response to her. She had yet to experience making love to his true primitive self. During her first time, he'd held back.

As she teased him with soft words, taunted him with tender caresses, a bubble of need burst. She wanted to push him? Fine. He could even justify letting loose for the good of the mission because she believed o.r.g.a.s.ms strengthened her psi. Holding back no longer made sense, so she'd d.a.m.n well better be ready for what she unleashed.

Hands that should have gently pushed her away yanked her closer, seeking out the silky curve of her neck. At his rough grasp, her eyes flared with surprise then burned with excitement while her contradictory textures of silky flesh over toned muscle intrigued, inflamed, and fascinated. Every cell in his body demanded he take all she offered. And more.

His voice came out roughened and harsh and he did nothing to ameliorate his savagery. "You want to make love to strengthen your psi in hopes of contacting Ranth?"

"Yes.'' She shimmied her hips against him, flung her arms around his neck, and attempted to tug his head down for a kiss. "But that's not my only reason," she a.s.sured him.

"And the other reason is?"

"I want you."

182.

She didn't pretend and he adored that about her. "I'm glad you know what you want."

At the pure satisfaction in his tone, she boldly allowed a soft chuckle to escape. And then she tried to turn the tables on him by questioning his motives. "And will you deny that you want me for reasons all your own?"

"It is not your place to question my reasons."

"If you say so." She nibbled a path along his collarbone, shooting heat straight to his groin. Her inclination to touch when she wished, initiate whatever she desired, was not on his current agenda. And oh, yeah he most definitely had an agenda. Capturing her wrists in one hand, he held them apart. "You've never understood Rystani ways.

But you're going to learn them now."