Sleeping With the Enemy (8 page)

    Ignoring the glares of the male crewmembers, although Sybil couldn’t believe he wasn’t well aware of the hostility radiating from them, Anka finally bowed slightly at the waist. “I have come to invite you all to dine with us,” he said with stiff formality.

Chapter Five

    “I see you brought a fairly sizable escort. Is this an invitation? Or an order?” Powell said grimly, making no attempt to hide his hostility.

    Sybil hadn’t actually noticed that Anka wasn’t alone until Powell’s comment. She felt the heat in her cheeks that was just fading flood back in a flash as she shot a quick glance behind him and noticed two men just outside the door.

    “It is an invitation that you may decline if it’s your wish. If you prefer, I will have food sent to you here,” Anka responded coolly.

    Powell studied him for a long moment. “In that case, we appreciate the invitation.”

    Spencer and Kushbu both stiffened and shot him a questioning look. He shook his head faintly, acknowledging he knew they had questions without answering them. Sybil sent him a shocked look herself, feeling the beginnings of anger that he’d arbitrarily accepted for all of them. She didn’t give a damn if he was her commanding officer! This situation didn’t fall under his purview, damn it!

    She wasn’t about to add to the tension, however, by arguing the matter. She was uncomfortable enough, anyway, that she didn’t particularly relish the idea of drawing more attention to herself.

    After glancing around at the people standing like statutes waiting to be animated, she moved toward Anka. It broke the spell holding everyone. She saw Anka and the men with him visibly relax. Powell and Spencer surged forward, as if to cut her off before she could reach Anka, and Kushbu, remembering his manners, approached his colleague and offered an arm.

    She wasn’t certain if Anka was mimicking Kushbu or if the gesture was familiar to him from his own customs, but he offered his own arm as escort. The tension fairly crackled in the air. Ignoring it, she took the offering. “Thank you.”

    He nodded. “My pleasure.”

    The response was coolly formal, almost mechanical, and Sybil abruptly felt a surge of amusement. It took an effort to resist the urge to comment on the warmth of the invitation, but she made the effort. “Thank you for the… uh… clothing, too.”

    She would’ve preferred her damned flight suit, but she didn’t see any benefit in behaving in as surly a manner as the others.

    “I apologize that I wasn’t able to return the suit. You are not particularly comfortable in this attire?”

    She managed a weak smile. “It’s… uh…” Better than nothing? Not very polite, even if it was the way she felt. “Very pretty.”

    “The beauty lies in the wearer.”

    Sybil shot a startled look up at his face and discovered that he was studying her without pretense of hiding his appreciation. Her face heated up again. She cleared her throat. “Thank you.”

    His face relaxed almost into a smile. “The design is favored by the women of Sumptra.” During their courtship dances, but he had no intention of telling her that. He supposed, wryly, that he should have chosen the loose trousers and tunics favored for labor, but he couldn’t regret it when she was such a pleasure to look at.

    “Well, that’s something to look forward to,” Spencer muttered in a perfectly audible voice that made Anka stiffen. “You have a problem with us admiring your women? Or you think that privilege should be all yours?” Spencer added when Anka turned to look at him, dropping any pretense of veiling his hostility.

    Anka narrowed his eyes at Spencer. Powell cut in before either man could say more, however. “Sumptra… Is that the name of your home world? Or your country?”

    “Sumptra was… united long ago. It is the name of the home world.”

    Sybil frowned at the slight hesitation, wondering what, if anything, it denoted. Maybe nothing more than the fact that he was struggling with anger over Spencer’s deliberately provoking comments? She might have dismissed it completely except that she noticed that the guards sent to escort them both flicked surprised glances at him.

    So he was lying, she decided. She just didn’t know what he was lying about. Unification? Or something else?

    She was still mulling it over when they apparently reached their destination. A door slid silently open as they approached, revealing a far larger room than she’d seen before… filled to capacity with the men and women of Sumptra. Sybil’s heart instantly leapt and began to pound out her distress.

    Anka settled his hand over hers where it clutched his arm so tightly, drawing her gaze.

    “There is no danger here,
nodia
, however… fearsome we might appear to you.”

    Sybil felt some of her tension ease… briefly.

    Spencer uttered a derisive snort. She knew it was him. Anka fixed him with a cool look but refused to rise to the bait.

    As oddly comforted as she was by Anka’s assurance, Sybil was never more glad of anything than she was when he’d escorted her to a seat and she could collapse gracelessly onto it. Holly settled with a heavy plop onto the seat just a few chairs down from her, making it clear that her knees had also given out. It took a supreme effort even to make a show of unconcern as she glanced around what looked very much like any other military mess hall she’d eaten in- except that every face was alien, not merely the face of a stranger.

    By the time the scrape of chairs as everyone settled had died down, Sybil had managed to calm her racing heart and ceased to feel as if she might faint and fall face first into the dish in front of her-which held what appeared to be some sort of soup.

    Instead of settling himself, Anka addressed the crowd-in his language. She exchanged an uncomfortable glance with the others, wondering, as she knew they were, what it was that he was saying. Almost as if Anka had read her mind, he switched to English. “I was reminding everyone that you are guests and should be treated accordingly.”

    It had certainly taken a lot of their words to say so little, Sybil thought wryly, wondering when they’d become ‘guests’ or if it was just a polite euphemism for prisoners.

    “Are we?” Powell asked.

    Anka lifted his brows at him. “I extended an invitation. You accepted.”

    Sybil studied his face, wondering if he was being deliberately evasive.

    “We usually let our guests leave when the party’s over,” Spencer said with patently false joviality.

    Anka didn’t try to veil his dislike. “And you shall… when the party’s over.”

    “So… will this be like an extended house party? Or will we be leaving soon?”

    “Spencer,” Powell growled under his breath. “Shut the fuck up or I’ll have you up on charges when we get back.”

    “You mean
if
, right?”

    “Tell me Commander Karshay,” Holly broke in hurriedly, “what is Sumka like?”

    Anka winced when she murdered both his name and the name of his home world. “His name is l’Kartay,” Sybil murmured, “and his world is called Sumptra.”

    Holly stared at her blankly, blinking her eyes rapidly. “Oh! I am
so
sorry! I was never very good with names. Especially… uh… foreign names. Just ask Dr. Kusha.”

    “Kushbu,” the doctor corrected her tightly.

    Anka smiled with obvious effort. “Beautiful to us… naturally.”

    Holly gaped at him as if she had no idea what he was talking about.

    Sybil lifted her spoon, stared at the liquid in front of her, and braced herself. Almost as if the others were puppets connected by the same strings, the others abruptly turned their attention to their own food. Dipping her spoon ever so slightly into the liquid Sybil brought it up to taste it and discovered that Anka was watching her.

    Braving discovery, she slipped the spoon into her mouth.

    “It isn’t poison, I assure you,” he murmured near her ear.

    Goosebumps leapt to life along the side of her neck and raced toward her breasts, making her nipples pucker and stand erect. Sybil flicked a quick look downward, hoping against hope that the reaction wasn’t as noticeable as it felt. It didn’t make her happy to discover her hope was in vain. She swallowed a little convulsively. “It’s good.”

    “You could not have tasted it with that microscopic spoonful.”

    Sybil sent him a quick look and discovered his gaze was fixed somewhere in the region of the ‘twin towers’. He met her gaze when he felt hers. “Would you like to exchange bowls? I should warn you, though, that I’m not terribly popular around here.”

    Sybil gaped at him until it dawned on her that he was joking. It surprised a chuckle out of her-actually something more embarrassingly close to a hysterical giggle. “In that case, I think I’ll keep my bowl, thank you. Hopefully, no one dislikes me enough to poison me.”

    She’d been too on edge since her arrival to realize just how hungry she was, she discovered. The soup was hot and good even though it wasn’t like anything she’d ever tasted before and it seemed to prime her for more. “It’s very good.” She glanced at him in surprise. “Don’t tell me what it is.”

    He chuckled. “You wouldn’t know if I did.”

    “I guess not,” she admitted wryly.

    Thankfully, the rest of the crew seemed to enjoy it as much as she did. They focused on consuming the broth and by the time they’d finished seemed far more relaxed.

    The aliens, she noticed with some amusement, also seemed less tense. Maybe they weren’t as different as they appeared on the outside? Anka had shown he had a sense of humor that she could appreciate, patience in the face of antagonism, thoughtfulness and generosity. These were traits she’d always considered strictly human, and on the high end of the scale at that. Maybe it was pure conceit to believe no other species could possibly have or understand these things as humans did?

    The thought prompted a question in her mind and she turned to Anka as one of the ‘creepy’ aliens removed her empty bowl. “What do you call yourselves?”

    His brows rose at the question, speculation flickering in his eyes.

    “I guess that was too general. I meant what name do you have for your species?”

    He nodded understanding. “
Ferils
.”

    “It isn’t my field,” Holly broke into the conversation, “but I’m very curious as to what sort of animals you evolved from.”

    “You have none on your home world.”

    “Really?” Spencer said. “You remind me of a cat.”

    Anger suffused Sybil. She’d certainly thought so, too, but he was going out of his way to be insulting and rude. “You have the worst manners of anybody it’s ever been my misfortune to know,” she said tightly. “We’re guests…”

    “We’re captives,” Spencer shot back at her. “I don’t feel like playing nice with the enemy.”

    “He’s right,” Anka interrupted. “The felines of your world are similar.”

    “Well,” Holly put in, “I don’t see that that’s any more insulting than the fact that ours are primates. It doesn’t mean we’re ape-like anymore… not all of us anyway.”

    “What the fuck do you mean by that?” Spencer demanded.

    Holly sent him a look that was part uneasiness and part anger. “It means I don’t appreciate your rudeness any more than Lieutenant Hunter. However we got here, we’ve been extended the courtesy of being treated like guests and I appreciate it. I think you’ve adequately expressed your objections.”

    Before Spencer could verbally attack her, Powell intervened. “I’m going to second her opinion, Corporal Spencer and remind you that I’ve already given warning. I’m going to consider any further outbursts from you as a mutinous disregard of your superior’s orders. Stand down, or I will certainly place charges against you at the earliest opportunity.”

    Spencer stared at him sullenly for several moments and finally shrugged. “Yes, Sir.”

    The tension that time lasted well into the main course, but whatever it was they’d been served was as delicious as the soup. Sybil was still angry, however, that Spencer had been so determined to cause friction when they’d had an opportunity to foster good relations. Maybe he was right and they were all wrong. Maybe they were nothing but prisoners. Maybe the ferils, as they called themselves, despised them as a species and there was no hope of any sort of friendly relations, but she realized she simply didn’t believe that.

    If they’d been focused on ridding the solar system of humans, they’d had every opportunity. Hadn’t they?

    “I almost hate to bring it up… under the circumstances, but I am curious. You said before that the scientists had developed the droids because they’d believed they would be less… disturbing to us?”

    Anka nodded. “Ironic I suppose.”

    Sybil smiled faintly since she was the one who’d pointed out how creepy they seemed to her. “I was wondering how long they had been studying us?”

    Something flickered in his eyes. He shrugged. “Our people visited your world many times.”

    “Why?” Kushbu asked curiously.

    Anka smiled faintly. “I’m not a scientist. You’d have to ask them.”

    Sybil frowned, certain he knew and simply didn’t want to say. “I suppose you’ve found a lot of different species? Explored many worlds?”