Captivate (Alien Cadets Book 2) Read online

  That first day she'd been so relieved the trial was successfully over, she didn't even mind that she had no time to talk to Sam.

  She’d been whisked away to the Spo medical quarters as soon as the trial was over. A failed Rik procedure, a desperate fight, and oxygen deprivation had not left her in good shape. Plus, the Spo had wanted to do quite a few diagnostics, to make sure the Rik hadn't irrevocably screwed up her brain when they tried to take her body. Her time in the infirmary stretched out and then Sam had had to go back to Earth to calm the situation, and she'd needed to stay with Akemi in the space station...

  What with one thing and another, it had been two weeks before they really got to see each other, and when they did meet again, there were twelve Spo, three Rik, and thirty members of the press there as well. Not exactly a private reunion.

  She had been alone with him since then, but there'd been a restraint between them. He'd been friendly, and he'd been available, but he hadn't tried to be more. Nat had wondered if he was waiting for her, or if he wasn't sure of his feelings anymore.

  When she'd seen him fly around the corner of the burning space station, panic on his face.... But that brought her mind back to the explosion and the fire, and Nat tensed up again.

  "Come here," Sam said, and gently pulled Nat into a hug. "You look like you're trying really hard not to shiver."

  She shuddered slightly. "Good guess." There was a catch in her voice.

  Sam's arms suddenly got tighter and he leaned his face on her hair. "I don't know if you realize how glad I am that you're alive. You already had your close call with death, you know? It wasn't supposed to happen again. I thought I had time to wait for us to happen - though for the record, I'm tired of waiting - but today I thought I'd run out of time again."

  Nat shook her head. "I thought so, too. For us and Akemi."

  Sam took a deep breath and ran his fingers gently through her wet hair. "We did it. She's safe. We're safe."

  "The fire..." Nat whispered. "I could barely think." Several months ago she'd gotten serious burns on her legs and hands when someone threw a Molotov cocktail at them and the burning alcohol ignited her clothes. She knew how painful it would be to burn.

  "I know, but you handled it. It's over."

  "It's not over," she said softly. "There was no way that fire was an accident."

  Sam said nothing. He must have come to the same conclusion.

  "And I thought Akemi was gone," Nat said. "And that horrible man...'a hunk of meat,' he called her." Nat rubbed her forehead again. "Another migraine is coming. I wish I could turn off my mind."

  Ever since the Rik tried (and failed) to re-contour her brain, she'd gotten terrible headaches on occasion. She supposed that was a small price to pay for living, but it didn't make it any easier to handle.

  Sam rubbed her temples. "I know, the senator is a jerk. But Akemi's going to be fine. The bioexpert says there was no permanent tissue damage."

  "I know." Nat patted her pocket where her glasses were. "Akemi told me that also. But it's so scary... I mean, she's already lost her life, Sam. If she loses this half-life she's been given, I don't know if I can stand it." Nat pinched the bridge of her nose and then winced. She'd forgotten about the burn from the glasses. "She's usually so cheerful, even though she'll never grow up or have children or live, that I can hardly stand it. But now she sounds vague and disoriented. It's a thousand times worse." Nat sighed and bent to pick up her smoky uniform where she'd dropped it on the floor.

  Sam took the uniform out of her hands. "Don't start thinking about everything we have to do next. I need this moment to last a little longer."

  He tilted his head to the side and looked at her, and Nat remembered what that look meant just before he kissed her. The last time they kissed had been several years ago, before their mentor tried to match them up in some sort of alien breeding initiative. That had been awkward, to say the least. Nat hadn't been able to deal with the idea that the Spo wanted her and Sam to be together. It had linked two parts of her life that she couldn't bear to have linked.

  This time, as Sam kissed her, and as she found herself kissing him back, Nat realized that the Spo link had broken. The Spo wouldn't be on Earth forever, and whatever she and Sam did, it didn't have to be on their terms.

  For a wonderful moment, Nat kissed him back, her hands on his shoulders. She felt her own exhaustion, and let herself lean into him, knowing he would hold her up.

  "I love you," Sam said.

  Nat nodded but couldn't quite get the words out. Already she felt the pressure of the real world returning, and took a deep breath and stepped away.

  "It's probably time to go be official," Nat said with a half smile.

  Sam ran his hand through his hair. "Are you sure? This is a good alternative."

  Nat heard someone scratching at their door and she actually laughed. "See, you should never doubt me." She moved to get the door, but Sam grinned and wouldn't let go of her hand.

  "Just hang on." Sam grabbed his glasses from the counter and put them back on, then went with her to the door. The Spo captain was requesting their presence, and Nat nodded to the messenger, replying suitably in Spo while Sam rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb.

  CHAPTER 2

  True to Sam’s promise, Akemi experienced no more black outs after their escape pod was recovered. They didn’t think it advisable to link her with the ship, since no doubt she wouldn’t be staying, but they’d given her a very serviceable mobile computer to dock with.

  Akemi felt a little limited, but she definitely did not want to be linked to an active ship. If the ship had to jump... Akemi shuddered. She’d only put a ship through hyper-jump a few times, and each time had killed part of her brain. She hadn't known that at the time. To her it just felt like a really unpleasant brain freeze, but she'd discovered it later and had no desire to repeat the process.

  The Spo usually used trouncer brains in their biocomputers, and they only used those for a few jumps before disposing of them. The trouncers were intelligent animals, and the fact that their brain tissue only lasted a few jumps made her extremely nervous. She didn’t want to be disposed of any time soon, so no more jumping for her.

  Everyone was talking about the attack on the space station. Akemi (once she had enough space to really get going) was reviewing all she could remember of the moments before the string of explosions ripped through her beautiful halls.

  The Spo were of two opinions: some said it must have been a technical malfunction, the others said it had to be sabotage.

  Akemi couldn’t absolutely rule out malfunction... but she seriously doubted it. For the last few months, she was the space station. How could she have been so sick and not known? But then again, how could someone have sewn explosives into her skin and she not know that?

  Either way, it was a professional and personal embarrassment and Akemi was determined to get to the bottom of it.

  If it was sabotage, someone on the space station must have been responsible, because the explosions had occurred from the interior. The space station was designed to withstand some significant level of attack from outside. Even if an explosion did rip through into the domicile area, that section could be immediately air locked to prevent the spread of fire or loss of air.

  This many simultaneous explosions from the interior of a Spo space station was unheard of.

  It was now six hours after the explosion (T+6 hours) and the first reports of the forensic team were coming back. They were examining the ruined hulk of the space station, in which, Akemi now learned, eight Spo had died. Akemi felt a sinking feeling of loss, though she had not personally known them. They had lived on the space station, it was their temporary home; and she had failed them.

  This couldn’t have been a malfunction, Akemi sent to Sam. I haven’t reviewed every option yet, but I know it.

  Sam and Nat were now in the captain’s personal quarters, along with Senator Fontley and several Spo officials. It wasn’t a large s
hip, and this was the roomiest place for them to meet. Akemi could only see the room through Sam’s glasses, as Nat wasn’t wearing hers, and she found the one perspective tedious. On the space station she’d had over a hundred viewpoints at any given moment.

  “We just retrieved another escape pod,” the captain said, returning from the piloting room. “With eight more people aboard. But more importantly, my sergeant found the remains of a device. Here is the image.” He passed around a large, glossy paper that showed fragments of a blue cylinder embedded in one of the blackened walls of the station. The cylinder was slightly tapered with a slight flare at the base. The blast had exited the top of the cylinder, leaving the rest of the casing in surprisingly good condition.

  “At first inspection it looks like...”

  A Rik cluster bomb, Akemi said.

  “A charge-directed, Rik cluster bomb,” the captain finished.

  “A Rik bomb?” Sam sounded dumbfounded. “The Rik have less reason to hurt us than anyone.”

  “They did not hurt you,” the captain said, flushing mottled grey with displeasure. “They killed eight of my people and destroyed a Spo space station.”

  “Even if it proves to be Rik, someone else could have used their devices,” Nat said.

  She leaned against the wall next to Sam, weariness evident in her shoulders. Sam glanced down at her, and Akemi saw with surprise and pleasure that he was holding hands with Nat. Finally! She’d been wondering how long they would take.

  The captain flushed even deeper with displeasure. “Who else would do such a thing? It is not an honorable way to start a war. If the Vel or the Merith wished to begin a conflict, they would do it in the traditional way and attack a frigate. Even the Tergre, though they seldom engage and prefer subterfuge, would not deem this a worthy move.”

  “Then perhaps there is a personal motive, or some species has changed their pattern,” Sam said. “It does happen.”

  “Who has been on the space station more than the Rik?” the captain returned. “Other than the humans and ourselves, they are the most frequent visitors. They have had more opportunity than anyone. And though you may think you’ve won them over with your amnesty at the trial, I expect they hold much resentment towards all of us for orchestrating their failure.”

  In the open doorway to the piloting room a small, blonde woman appeared. She’d heard the captain’s last words and she put her hands on her hips. “The only thing I’m orchestrating is a new wardrobe. What are you two wearing?”

  Shara! She made it! Akemi had not wanted to think before about whether or not Shara had made it off the space station. She’d hoped so - Shara was nothing if not self-sufficient - but Akemi hadn’t been certain. Shara was a Rik assassin, but she’d turned against her superiors during the human sentience trial and given Sam the evidence he needed to win.

  The captain stiffened at her arrival, but Shara obviously didn’t care. She sauntered into the room confidently, and picked up the glossy photo. “This isn’t Rik style at all,” she said.

  The captain’s eyestalks twitched unpleasantly. “Oh, no?”

  Shara shook her head, making her blonde hair bounce on her shoulders. She patted it back into place complacently. “Sure, I admit the Rik are disappointed we can’t migrate to Earth, but what good is this mess?” She gestured to the picture. “It would be a tragic gesture of defiance, and that is so not our style. We don’t do drama.”

  Nat opened her mouth to protest, but Sam held up his hand. “As much as we’d love to take issue with that, Shara does make a good point. The Rik are pragmatists. What good does this do?”

  “Who else could it be?” the captain repeated.

  Akemi was already pondering that. She had logged and monitored every alien delegation that visited the space station since she arrived. She knew better than anyone who might’ve had access in the last months since the trial. And these cluster bombs couldn’t have been in place for very long, or they would have been found during routine maintenance.

  Sam was putting that together as well. “Akemi, give us a list of visitors this week.”

  Two Tergre cultural ambassadors.

  Three Council members from Merith II and Comboda.

  One Crosspoint who came to iron out the Melifleuran lease.

  She paused.

  Eight Rik, who came to inspect and negotiate terms for the new Rik containment facility on the moon.

  Sam repeated the list to the others, but shook his head at the last item, “I know that sounds bad, but the Rik agreed to the terms. The negotiation is done.”

  Senator Fontley was frowning, as he generally did when Sam repeated anything that came from Akemi. “I think you’re all missing the point. You allowed an experimental alien computer - created by the Rik - to be in control of the space station. It could have done the sabotage itself!”

  “Why would it hurt itself?” Sam said. “Even if you don’t believe Akemi is a person, that still doesn’t make sense.”

  “The computer could be controlled by someone else. Or it could be programmed to self-destruct. Either way, it cannot be trusted! Perhaps it was in collusion with the Rik delegation.”

  Akemi didn’t like where this was going. Senator Fontley was antagonistic toward all aliens, and he absolutely loathed coming into space, but for some reason he’d fixated on her. Granted, she was a strange thing to understand, but she was human. That should count for something. His suspicion hadn’t seriously worried her, but with this explosion in the mix, his accusations had new weight. The facts were clear: Akemi was in control of the space station, and it had just exploded, killing eight Spo, and endangering hundreds of lives.

  “It wasn’t her,” Nat pressed a hand to her head. “Not that I expect my assurance to mean anything to you. We just have to figure out who did it.”

  Sam nodded firmly. “And we will, but for now, we need to rest. I’m sure the captain has urgent duties as well.”

  The captain waved for them to leave. “There are more capsules to retrieve, and I believe a Merith ship picked up a few as well. We shall speak again after the next shift.”

  Shara followed them down the hall. “I just know it wasn’t the Rik. I think it’s called intuition. Humans have that, right?”

  They all slept in the same cabin, as the ship was now overfull of rescued Spo. Sam offered to sleep on the floor and let Shara and Nat share the Spo bed, but Shara snorted. She tossed a huge Merith cushion on the floor. It took up most of the available space, and she flopped onto it bonelessly, her snores soon filling the cabin.

  Nat shrugged and lay down. They probably only had a few hours before they would be needed again, so there was no point being overly picky. Sam left space between them, but he did hold her hand again. After months of nonchalance, it seemed like he couldn’t bear to let go of her completely.

  Still Nat managed to get some decent sleep before someone scratched at their door. She was pleased to see that Sam had slept heavily too. His forehead was relaxed, loosening the creases that formed when he was stressed.

  Nat went to the door quietly, hoping he might stay asleep.

  When she opened it, her mentor was just raising his clawed hand to scratch the door again. Nat was so used to the Spo aliens that her mentor’s insectoid face: eyestalks, mandibles, and all, wasn’t the least off-putting. In fact, she was so relieved that he had survived, his scarred face was a welcome sight.

  “Greg!” she said softly. “I’m glad you’re here. Let me grab my shoes and come out to talk.”

  Greg looked in the room and saw Sam sleeping. He couldn’t see Shara, sprawled on her cushion on the far side of the bed. Greg didn’t say anything, but his expression was so clear it was almost human despite his eye-stalks and mandibles.

  “You don’t have to look so smug,” Nat said wryly. The door slid shut quietly behind her, and she stooped to pull her shoes on. “Just because Sam and I are together, you think you’re so smart.”

  “I am smart,” Greg said simply. “A
nd I am genuinely glad that you and Sam are... together.”

  “Thanks.” It was no use. Greg would consider their relationship his doing no matter what she said. Hopefully he wouldn’t make a big deal out of it. It would be just like Greg to go along perfectly all these weeks and now make some off-hand comment about the genetic probability that their children would be good cadet material.

  “Your children -”

  Nat carefully squeezed the bridge of her nose. “If you dare to say a word about our children, I will never, ever invite you to meet them. Got it?”

  Greg looked slightly hurt. “Very well. It is urgent that I speak to you about Akemi, however. Is that topic off limits as well?”

  Nat sighed. “Go ahead.” She still had issues with Greg and his attitude toward humans, particularly their deaths, but it was so easy to fall back into the habits of a cadet when she was with him.

  “I do not believe she was involved in the space station sabotage, but many Spo are saying that it is possible. I understand that your Senator Fontley is also of this opinion.”

  Nat nodded.

  “I am afraid that if Akemi stays here, she might be in danger. The Spo are not afraid of death, nor do we despise it, but we are not accustomed to receiving it in an... under-handed fashion. Emotions are high over the deaths on the space station. I think it might be best if Akemi were not nearby for a while.”

  “That makes sense. But where can we take her? Sam and I can’t just leave. Can we?”

  “Not right away,” Greg said. “You’re still too public a figure. If you and Sam disappear just after the space station explodes in the night sky, the people of Earth might reasonably assume you are dead.”

  “Yeah, that would be bad.” Sam was a global celebrity these days, and Nat herself was getting pretty well-known. It was not an entirely comfortable position. Most people on Earth wanted the Spo gone yesterday, and they didn’t understand why it might take a while to phase them out of Earthly life. Even though the Spo had already helped form a provisional government, the Human Coalition, many people still considered Sam the one who was in charge of the transition. It was ridiculous, but if he and Nat could keep people calm and save lives, they had to do it.