Authors: Susan Kearney
“Yes.”
Tired, emotionally spent, but nowhere near ready to quit, Tessa faced Kahn, drumming her fingers on the console and thinking furiously. “Kahn, let me go. I’ll find a way to pay for the damages. Earth can send another candidate—one better suited to the task.”
“I cannot.” To give the big guy credit, he really did look sorry, and his voice oozed sympathy. “It’s against Challenge rules to change candidates once training has begun.”
“Suppose I died?”
“Then I would have failed.”
“But there is no reason to continue. I have no psi power.”
“That remains to be seen.” At his statement another shudder zinged up her spine. “And
you
must pay for the damages to this ship. That is the law, and by accepting The Challenge, you are bound by it,” he stated firmly.
“I was not a rich woman in my own time, and in this one, I don’t even have clothes on my back,” Tessa countered.
“Then you will pay me with the assets you possess.”
At the glint in his amber eyes, she thanked her lucky stars that for the moment, his ship was damaged and couldn’t come after her. “Goodbye, Kahn, though I can’t say it’s been a pleasure.”
“Can’t you?” Apparently, he couldn’t resist one last parting shot before she severed communications.
Even beyond the spaceman’s current reach, she found the glint in his amber eyes unbearably disturbing, almost as disturbing as his commitment to find her. No way could she let that happen. She recalled every tormented moment of his touch, and her determination hardened.
The shuttle flew toward Earth, increasing the distance between them, but the likelihood of recapture remained at the forefront of her thoughts. “Dora, if we jump back into hyperspace and don’t go directly to Earth, Kahn can’t find me, right?”
“Theoretically, that is correct.”
She absolutely, positively didn’t want him to recapture her. Her bottom still stung, her pride was tattered. But worst of all, her body ached for him. Even now, she wanted his hands back on her. She wanted his lips on hers. She wanted his clever fingers performing their magic. She wanted completion. And release.
Her body may have ached for him, but she hardened her heart. Kahn wouldn’t give her what she desired. He’d simply make the desire worse.
Knowing this might be her best chance to escape, she couldn’t afford to waste the opportunity. Heart and mind in accord, she spoke with certainty. “Dora, put me in contact with Earth’s authorities.”
“I cannot. Kahn’s jammed our communications systems.”
“But we just spoke to him.”
“The channel to the starship is still open.”
“I’ll contact Earth later and let them try to negotiate for a new candidate to take my place. For now, please set a course for . . . Mars. We can hide in orbit behind the planet.”
And then finally, Tessa slept.
KAHN SLEPT ONLY in short naps. Mostly, he supervised the robotic repair of the bay doors. Until they could once again close, he couldn’t warp through hyperspace and follow Tessa. However, after he engaged the starship’s big engines, he’d catch her in no time, tracking her with the device he’d placed in her suit for just such an emergency. So he had no reason to drive himself so hard, except that time was running out. She should have exhibited psi ability by now.
When he still couldn’t get a handle on his churning gut, he retreated to Tessa’s chamber to lose himself in the only way he knew how. “Exercise program on.”
“Choose your sport.” The computer directed.
“Hand-to-hand combat.”
“State the level.”
“Ten.”
“Ten is for experts.”
“Command override. Alphex 1020.”
“Medical monitoring required,” the computer informed him. At the first sign he was in distress or danger, the computer would automatically shut down.
“Understood.”
Kahn eased into a fighting stance and cleared his mind of the Earthling. With the program set on the maximum sparring difficulty, he would have to use every brain cell he had to avoid injury. He breathed in several long breaths and released them slowly and envisioned the clean white snow of Rystan.
“Begin,” he ordered.
His holographic opponent lunged. Kahn shifted. His foe faked a jab and then roared in with a spinning round kick to the head. Kahn blocked, countered, and . . . missed. Off balance, he altered his suit to null gravity, somersaulted, pushed off the wall near the ceiling, turned the gravity back on, and dived at the hologram at twice normal speed. His opponent spun, back fisted, and caught his shoulder. Pain radiated down Kahn’s arm. Pain he welcomed.
For more than thirty minutes, he worked out his anger and frustration with Tessa, but mostly with himself and his untenable position. When he ended the program, his chest heaved, his lungs burned, and he needed a pitcher of water to replace the fluids he’d lost, but he still hadn’t found the peace or calm.
Stars. Why hadn’t he watched her more closely? After the dreadful way he’d treated her, albeit with the best of intentions, he should have considered she’d try to flee. Now, she had broken the law, and they would both pay for the rest of their lives. He only hoped that Earth and Rystan wouldn’t also suffer consequences.
Exactly two days and four hours later, the computer informed him, “The flight bay door repairs are now completed.”
“Where’s the shuttle?”
“Sensors scanning.”
“And?” Kahn prodded, heading toward the helm.
“The shuttle is not at the expected location.”
“Damn, she must have warped into hyperspace again.” Kahn wasn’t worried. He couldn’t track the ship or communications through hyperspace, but once she dropped out of warp, her suit’s built-in transmitter would pinpoint her exact location.
Except when he scanned the area of space between his ship and Earth, she wasn’t there. His heart jammed up against his ribs. Had she crashed the ship? The suit’s transmitter wouldn’t work if she’d died.
However, if she’d flown around the back side of her world, the planet’s mass would block transmission. “Prepare for hyperspace.”
“Destination?”
“Earth.” But before they left, Kahn scanned the rest of the solar system. Nothing. “Jump.”
Braced against the heightened awareness of his senses that occurred in hyperspace, Kahn waited impatiently for the return to normal space. He checked the sensor readings. Nothing. He tried the suit’s locator. Nothing.
Again he searched the rest of the solar system methodically starting with Mercury and Venus and then outward to the colder planets. Earth hadn’t been blocking her signal, another world had been. Once again he’d underestimated her.
“Jump for Mars.”
TESSA STARED out the viewscreen in the hopes her people had colonized Mars over the last three centuries. After multiple shuttle disasters during her lifetime, the space program had lost popularity. She suspected Earth’s leaders had been reluctant to spend funds on reaching another planet when the money could be better invested efforts to solve Earth’s critical environmental problems.
She might be the first Earthling to have gazed at Mars from orbit, and while she marveled at the reddish mountains and crater-pocked deserts, she hungered for a hint of humanity. “Dora, didn’t our astronauts make it out this far?”
“My sensors haven’t picked up any recent activity. A few probes crashed on this world several hundred years ago. But since then—nothing.”
Tessa supposed she should feel some satisfaction in being the first Earthling to orbit Mars, yet she knew Kahn was out there hunting her. The man wouldn’t stop searching until the Challenge period or she expired—whichever came first.
“Any sign of Kahn’s ship?”
“He’s warped into hyperspace.”
“How do you know?” Tessa turned away from the Martian landscape to the console viewscreen. During the last two days, she’d learned that the blinking green light signified the shuttle’s position. A blinking line showed their current orbit in relation to Mars, and on command, Dora could zoom out and show her Earth, too.
“Going to warp leaves a telltale autograph in space and each engine leaves a different signature pattern. I collate the data and—”
“Okay. Will we have any warning if—”
“He’s here.”
Fear galloped down her spine, but Tessa wasn’t ready to give up. “Go to warp.”
“We can’t. He’s grabbed us with a clutch beam.”
Tessa couldn’t feel the beam, but she imagined a fly didn’t recognize that a spider was pulling it into its web, either. “Can we shake loose?”
“Not enough power.”
“Come on, Dora. Search your data banks. How do we get away?”
“A shuttle this size cannot escape a clutch beam.”
Tessa didn’t like that answer. She had no idea how Kahn had found her, but now wasn’t the time to ask. She had more immediate problems—like escaping once more. “Do we have any weapons?”
“I’m not permitted to fire on the mothership.”
“Will our weapons sever the clutch beam?”
“No.”
“Are you telling me that there is nothing I can do? Nothing?”
“I am sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.” Tessa slumped against the console, her pulse racing. She couldn’t stop Kahn from hauling her back into the flight bay. She couldn’t stop Kahn from boarding. She couldn’t stop Kahn.
She’d been defeated in battle many times, but never had the consequences been so severe. She reminded herself that she’d escaped him once. He was not perfect. Maybe she could escape again.
Probably ten minutes passed before the clutch beam pulled the shuttle back into the flight bay with its newly repaired doors. Those minutes flew by like seconds, and yet, it contradictorily seemed to take a lifetime.
The airlocks recycled, and the pressure changed. The door opened, and Kahn strode inside the shuttle. In the short time she’d been away, she’d forgotten his height and mass, how he towered over her. But worse, his face could have been carved of Martian granite.
Tessa forced back her shoulders, raised her chin, and tried not to think ahead. From the frosty glare in his eyes that took an inventory of her from her bare feet, up her naked torso to her eyes locked with his, she figured she might be better off if she remained silent. She most certainly didn’t want to risk loosening the temper he’d obviously reined in so tightly.
“Woman, you have done more damage than you know.”
Her mouth went sand dry, and she simply waited for his words to fall like blows.
“The theft of the shuttle is a high crime against the Federation.”
Her eyes narrowed. “The shuttle has been returned.” She didn’t understand why he had gone so stern and more serious than normal or why he spoke in the voice of doom. Was she going to jail? She’d actually find an eight-by-ten cell preferable to remaining with him.
“A shuttle is the mother ship’s only lifeboat. By stealing it you placed a life in danger. If there had been an emergency aboard the mothership—”
“Was there?”
“That’s not the point. I believe your world incarcerates criminals for attempted murder, don’t they?”
“I meant you no harm.”
“The Federation has no way to measure intent. There’s no need for a trial since the facts are irrefutable. The penalty is death.”