Authors: Tracy St. John
“Ket’s not so bad,” Sitrel said, his unemotional state returning. “His loyalty is without doubt. We prize that above all else.”
“It makes up for him being dumb and self-serving. And drunk.” Feyom glanced at Noelle and scowled. “Go sit back down, girl. You’ll get what you need where we’re going. Be grateful for that.”
Cowed by the scary lady, Noelle meekly retreated to sit next to Tasha again. She wished her cousin would wake up and tell her what was going on.
Sitrel spoke. “Speaking of sons, are you going to visit Falinset while we’re there? Maf wants to know if he can count on him in the coming months, especially since he lives so close to the compound.”
Feyom made an impatient sound. “He’s most ungrateful of the lot. After all Maf has done for him, you’d think he’d have a little gratitude. But no, he sulks on that moon and refuses as much as Maf lets him get away with.”
“He won’t get away with anything for much longer. He must choose. The Basma’s time is at hand. Maf wants his only child at his side.”
Feyom was dismissive. “Then Maf should speak to him instead of expecting me to make things right. Falinset despises me for what he calls a lack of honor. Stupid fool. Honor is meaningless next to power.”
Sitrel sighed, a satisfied sound. “Soon we will have both honor and power, and Kalquor will regain its greatness.”
“Thanks to Princess Distraction.” Feyom turned in her seat to gaze at Noelle. The cruel smile was back, making her almost ugly.
Noelle couldn’t bear to look at that leer. She wanted to be away from Feyom. She wanted to be back in her nursery and sleeping on her mat. She wanted to be there when Mommy came in at morning’s first light with smiles and kisses for her.
But Mommy and Noelle’s fathers had sent her away. She didn’t know if she’d even be allowed to visit home like Wayne did.
Noelle lay down next to Tasha, the one meager bit of comfort left to her. She snuggled close to her cousin, burying her face against Tasha’s shoulder. The tears came back and Noelle let them fall silently into the folds of Tasha’s blouse.
Awareness swam in just as consciousness had swum out. The first thing Tasha was aware of was forcing her grainy eyes open. An anxious little face framed with silvery-steel waves of hair hovered overhead. Purple eyes swimming with tears peered down at her.
In a voice hoarse from crying, Noelle spoke. “Tasha? Are you awake?” Then excitedly, “I think she’s waking up!”
An unfamiliar voice, feminine and soothing came next. “Move back, angel. Let’s get some water into her.”
At the word ‘water’, Tasha felt how her mouth seemed to be made of cotton. As arms slid beneath her shoulders and back, she opened her mouth and tried to speak. A wheezing croak was all that escaped.
Noelle receded, and Tasha tried to get her leaden arms to move, to grab the little girl before the strange Nobek took her away again. A moment later she realized that Noelle had moved back of her own accord, allowing room for the supportive arms to lift Tasha into a seated position.
Tasha had the brief impression of several faces surrounding her before a cup pressed to her lips. She made another sound, this one desperate and rattling. Her mouth and throat were arid. She gulped down the warm liquid that poured into her mouth. She wrinkled her nose at the temperature as well as the gritty, flat-tasting water, but she was too thirsty to stop drinking.
The voice that had spoken to Noelle came again. It was accented with a thick twang that made Tasha think of grits and fried chicken. “Yeah, it’s a little dirty but we boiled it as clean as we could. It won’t make you sick.”
Tasha downed the entire cup and then a second one that appeared as soon as the first was drained. Her body and mind came back to life with the refreshment. The heavy mists cleared from her brain.
She sat on a crude wooden pallet, putting her inches above a dirt floor. She realized she was in a room of some sort, dim and shadowed. The walls were dull gray and featureless. The only light came from a rectangular doorway. Tasha squinted. It was sunlight coming through the door, not light from another room. More crude pallets, looking hastily assembled from spare pieces of lumber, littered the room at regular intervals. A couple of equally crude tables, listing unsteadily at funhouse angles, also furnished the space.
She saw these details between the bodies standing in a loose semi-circle around her. Tasha blinked at the drawn faces of many women, at least a dozen. No, more than that. They all wore torn clothing, some little more than filthy rags. Several looked like they hadn’t eaten well in a long time.
Two women sat on either side of her. It was these two who propped Tasha up as she got her bearings. The odor coming from them was sweetish-sour, the smell of bodies gone unwashed for some time. The blonde on her left, her too-thin face still hinting at the beauty she must have once been, held the cup Tasha had drunk from. The woman on her left still had some meat on her bones, though her auburn hair framed a wan face. Something about her tugged at Tasha’s memory, but she couldn’t think where she’d seen this woman before. As a matter of fact, there were a couple other faces that seemed slightly familiar to her.
Tasha’s voice sounded thick, but recognizable as her own. “Where am I?”
Noelle huddled on the pallet next to Tasha’s knees. She answered, “They sent us to camp, but not a nice one. No nightgowns or toys or even real beds.”
The little girl burst into tears and sprang forward to bury her face against Tasha’s breast. Tasha hugged her close.
It was the blonde holding her up who answered in that thick country accent. “Welcome to Hell, Natasha Salter. ‘Cause that’s where you are.” She jerked her head towards the other woman offering support. “Amy here recognized you as the cousin of the empress. And of course there’s no mistaking the hair on this little gal.” She stroked Noelle’s head with a tired smile. “The Basma finally snagged himself a couple of the royals. He must be full of himself right now.”
The mention of the Basma triggered Tasha’s memory at last. The woman identified as Amy and the other two who looked familiar had gone missing in recent months. The Basma had claimed responsibility for the disappearances.
Tasha drew a stunned breath. “You’re all – you’re the women who were abducted these last few years?”
The blonde nodded. “That’s us.”
Tasha’s mind reeled. She and Noelle had been kidnapped. The Nobek who had appeared in Noelle’s nursery had taken them somewhere after Tasha had been incapacitated.
Was I drugged? Was that why the shel had a strange smell?
Tasha’s heart thundered as she realized that somehow enemies had gotten past the Royal Guards standing watch over the Royal House. Despite the supposed impossibility of such an occurrence, she and Noelle had been taken from the home.
The spike of adrenaline cleared the last of the fog of Tasha’s mind. It brought a surge of energy to her still-heavy body, enough to allow her to swing her legs over the side of the pallet and plant her feet on the dirt floor. The wood beneath her body creaked tiredly, as if it also had seen too much trouble. Noelle moved back, scrubbing tears off her cheeks. She looked up at Tasha, her expression imploring her cousin to get them out of this mess.
Tasha had another look around. She recognized the building as a portable shelter, the kind used by the Kalquorian military for temporary quarters out in the field.
“We’re still on Kalquor,” she reassured herself.
Amy shook her head. “No, but you can see it from here at night.”
The blonde nodded. “We’re on Lobam.”
Tasha stared at them, not believing. It wasn’t possible to take Noelle off Kalquor. There were state-of-the-art safeguards in place that prevented it.
“There is no way that could happen.” She stood, her heart pounding faster than ever. Her knees wobbled a little, but otherwise she seemed to have shaken off the effects of whatever drug had been used on her. With Noelle clinging to her skirt, Tasha went to the door. The women in her path moved aside, as silent and gray as ghosts.
Tasha stepped into the doorway, feeling the heat of the sun beating down on her. She stared at the sky, her mouth stretching open in a silent, horrified scream.
High in the sky hung a familiar greenish-blue planet. Kalquor. It was true. The Basma had taken them away from a situation deemed absolutely secure.
The realization that somehow the Basma had indeed managed to get Noelle off the home planet was like a punch to Tasha’s gut. For several seconds she couldn’t draw breath. She blinked and kept staring at the orb in the sky that should have been the moon she now stood on. She kept expecting for Kalquor to disappear, to not really be a quarter of a million miles away.
The planet remained fixed in the sky. Tasha’s mind finally accepted that the women had told her the truth. She and Noelle were on Lobam.
Shock didn’t want to wear off. Tasha forced it to. They had landed in serious trouble, and she needed her wits about her. This was no time to scream, sob, or crumple in a helpless heap; the things she wanted to do most. She had to be strong and find a way to get Noelle to safety.
Tasha took her horrified gaze from the sky and looked around her surroundings. The sunlight was bright, throwing everything in glaring relief and leaving no illusions about the situation.
The ground was hard packed dirt, with little vegetation save a few tufts of stubborn grasses here and there. It was mostly empty, the few objects that it contained crowded close to the metallic temporary shelter. A pipe stuck up at one corner of the rectangular building, surrounded by muddy water. There were footprints pressed into that area. A log lay near the door, its length scooped out so it resembled a badly-made canoe. A pile of thick branches lay between the pipe and log. That was it.
Beyond the dirt, dense woods surrounded most of the area. A slight breeze made the rich green leaves flutter, rattling them with a dry, scritchy sound. A small landing pad had been constructed in a clearing a little beyond the yard. A standard space worthy shuttle sat there. Next to it, looking like a metallic insect, a much smaller shuttle squatted. It was no more than a two-seater with the barest bit of a cargo space.
Tasha’s attention was arrested by the sight of containment poles circling the bare yard, one of which stood between her and the shuttles. The long, upright metal rods circled the dirt yard every twenty feet. They glared in the bright sun, blinding the eyes. Tasha didn’t have to be told that force fields stretched between each pole, invisible barriers that kept the women in their dismal prison environment.
As Tasha weighed the obstacles to escape, the rough face of her friend Commander Bifen popped in her head. He’d had an entertaining story or two about being caged in such containments during war games in combat training. He knew the strength of such barriers better than many.
Beyond and inside the containment, Nobeks in military-issue armored formsuits patrolled. They were a hard-looking lot, although most appeared bored at the moment. Placid with assurance, even. They wore blasters on their utility belts, along with too many knives to count. Tasha looked longingly at the weaponry, but she knew her chances of getting any of it away from the guards: none. Even as casually as they seemed to be taking the duty to keep the Earthers secured, they were still too fast and battle-ready for Tasha to hope to take on. Nobeks were the badasses of the universe.
Military uniforms though. Except for the missing shield of the Kalquorian Empire, they looked exactly like the armored formsuits of the ground troops. Were these actual soldiers who’d been recruited to the Basma’s cause?
Having had a look around, Tasha stepped out of the shelter. Once in the middle of the yard, she checked her surroundings once more. There was nothing here but dirt, filthy and underfed women, and Nobeks checking her out with the wrong kind of interest.
Noelle had emerged with her, clinging to her skirt. The little girl stared at the emptiness and the shadowed expanse of woods beyond the void. She sniffled and whispered, “It’s ugly here, Tasha. Wayne’s camp is much nicer.”
Tasha looked at the child and weighed what she should say. Would the truth terrify Noelle? Was it cruel to tell her how much trouble they were in? Or would it be best to sugarcoat the matter and try to keep Noelle as happy and calm as possible?
No, Tasha decided, there was no way to pretty up this situation. Noelle deserved to know as much as her young mind could comprehend. The details weren’t important, just the general name of the game. Noelle was too smart to not know something here was wrong. She needed to be ready to move if Tasha could figure a way to get them out of this fix.
She gave Noelle a gentle look. “This isn’t a good camp, like the one Wayne went to. This is a prison camp, sweetie. Bad people have stolen us and hidden us away. But I’m going to take care of you, okay? I’m going to keep you safe until help comes.”
Noelle thought about the information, her little brows drawing together in concentration. Tasha was relieved when she didn’t wail in fright. Instead the little girl asked, “My Nobek daddy will find me? He’ll take me home?”
Tasha smiled at her with a confidence she didn’t feel. Noelle had a subdermal long-range tracker implanted on her body somewhere. Only one man, the surgeon who had implanted it, knew exactly where that tracker was. The tiny tracker was undetectable, making it impossible for anyone else to remove it.