Page 165 of Pets in Space 10

Captive

Adele watched Rogue disappear into the rocks, torn between her breaking heart and relief that she had anticipated despoiler cruelty. The little dog was better off taking his chances with the tigers.

Savage pain ripped through her midsection, doubling her over. Dimly, she heard Lochan shout. A rough hand fisted her hair, pulling her upright to meet the angry glare of a man in a militia commander’s uniform. In a high-pitched voice, he snapped, “Defiance brings pain. You cost us dinner.”

As the pain subsided and her breath eased, she realized she was several inches taller than the man.

She had met many men who were not troubled by short stature and a few who felt the need to make themselves feel bigger with bullying and cruelty.

This despoiler was the second type. Knowing anything she said would only enrage him further, she kept silent and dropped her eyes.

The guard released Adele’s hair and pulled the satchel from her shoulder, spilling the contents on the ground.

At the sight of a dozen nutrition bars, there was a rumble from the militia.

Under the commander’s watchful gaze, the guard crouched over the pile, pawing through the loose first-aid supplies, tossing aside the folded ground cloth.

With the despoilers distracted, she dared to seek out Lochan.

His expression held reassurance and questions she could not answer in front of the despoilers.

At a quiet moan, she found Samson kneeling on the ground, blood soaking through a pant leg. Before she thought, she said, “There is wound sealant in the first-aid supplies.”

The commander did not turn from his examination of supplies. “Not wasting it on a slave.”

Lochan’s cool tones halted her outraged response. “Do you have so many workers you can afford to lose one?”

“If your life is worth something, we will be returning to the beaconed expanse in a matter of days. The slaves, or what is left of them, will be useless.”

Lochan shook his head. “The Nightingale is not leaving the Thirteenth System anytime soon. You would do better to ask for your own transport. There is a dagger due to arrive in the next sevenday.”

The commander tapped his chin with the bloody blade. “You are being suspiciously helpful.”

“My duty is to the Thirteenth System, as is my path to wealth. I would prefer you and your group leave it and become the governing council’s worry.”

The despoiler cackled, “Spoken like a true warrior.”

The only despoiler woman stepped up and spoke softly in his ear. She was close enough for Adele to make out the tattered lieutenant’s insignia but not to hear more than a few words . . . negotiate . . . leverage.

The commander grimaced and then nodded thoughtfully. “Very well.”

The lieutenant grabbed a sealant packet from the ground and tossed it at Adele. “Go ahead.”

Catching the packet one-handed, Adele extracted the utility tool from a pocket.

Dropping down by Samson, she used the blade to slice open his trousers.

There was so much blood that she could not see the wounds.

Not bothering to ask for more supplies, she pulled a used mechanic’s cloth from her coveralls. It was not sterile, but it was clean.

Wiping away the blood, she found a deep puncture wound and a shallow gash.

While Samson moaned and cried out, she used a dab to seal the gash and forced the rest of the sealant into the deep wound.

She doubted it was enough to heal the puncture, but at least the bleeding stopped.

She was wiping her hands on the cloth when she realized for all Samson’s cries, his leg had not moved.

Meeting his eyes, she found them filled with warning. Apparently, the despoilers liked screaming and would work until they achieved it.

One of the guards grabbed the back of her coveralls and used it to yank her upright, the collar burning against her throat. At least it was not her hair. The commander stalked over, eyeing her from head to toe. “Find out how many pockets she has and what is in them.”

She was surprised they had not searched her when she emerged from the rocks. Had the months stranded on Prime worn them down, or were they always this careless? The despoiler woman ran her hands over Adele, halting at every bump. When the fasteners defeated her, Adele suggested, “Allow me.”

***

Lochan was impressed by Adele’s cleverness in adding nutrition bars to the satchel to fill the space left when she had removed important items like the flares and the beacon.

Under the woman’s watchful gaze, Adele pulled out the tangle of Rogue’s harness, his leash twisted into a loop, two more mechanic’s rags, her utility tool, a coil of wire, two packets of insulating gel, and a ball of medic’s strapping.

No doubt, from Rogue’s bindings. Even in these dire circumstances, Lochan felt a twinge of amusement. Did the woman ever discard anything?

By then, several guards were chuckling. The only remotely dangerous item was the blade in her utility tool, which the commander confiscated along with one of the rags to clean his blade. The rest she was allowed to tuck back into her coveralls.

Lochan did not like the way the despoiler commander was regarding Adele. The man stroked the blunt edge of his blade, eyes narrowed. “A mechanic? Escorted by the Nightingale security chief? Why are you so important?”

Adele swallowed and dropped her gaze. It was good she recognized the scum-sucking troll did not like to be challenged.

After a moment, her voice came, soft and intimidated.

“I am an engineer. The Nightingale wants to know if the equipment they left in the basin remains usable. Commander Lochan wanted to evaluate the site for a base.”

Well done. She knows enough to tell the truth, but not all of it. Lochan worked to keep his expression neutral. The longer they stayed near the wrecked flyer, the better the chances of the Nightingale finding them.

The lieutenant stepped up to the commander for another low-voiced conversation. The commander nodded. “We will not make it through the woods before dark. Lieutenant, assign a guard and one of the carts to get that glider.”

The woman grabbed one of the men standing by Samson.

The commander pointed at another, “Take the other cart and scout a campsite. Something not visible from the wreckage.”

He shot Lochan a sly glance. “We can have the Nightingale nutrition bars for dinner. And the woman for entertainment.”

Lochan’s blood ran cold. “She is a valuable hostage.”

He laughed. “I doubt it. She is not in uniform. Not an officer.”

Troll guts. He scrambled for something persuasive. “She is contracted as consort to a Leonardo warrior. He will ransom her if she is returned undamaged.”

The commander shrugged, “We can enjoy her without damaging her . . . in any lasting manner.”

Forcing derision into his tone, Lochan said, “He would consider congress with desp—Servants of the Eldest as lasting damage.”

The commander’s eyes narrowed as he crooned, “Now, why would that be?”

“Because—”

“Not you,” the commander cut him off with a gesture. “Her.”

Adele twisted her fingers together.

Please, Adele, do not voice: because they are disgusting and vile. Lochan measured the distance to the commander. Could he get free and kill the troll before they killed him?

Adele lifted her chin. “You are sworn enemies of the Five Warriors. His warrior honor would disdain me.”

The lieutenant snorted. “That sounds like a warrior.”

Lochan’s heart lifted only to be dashed at the lieutenant’s next words, “Which warrior in particular?”

“Declan Red-Eagle. He was Monsignor Angus’ protégé.”

“I know of him.” The lieutenant eyed Adele. “What does he see in you?”

“My family were among the original colonists. We have a long history of honorable service.”

Lochan latched on to the opening. “It is well known that every role on the Nightingale was given to those well connected to the Bright Star governors.”

The lieutenant stared at him for a long moment and then turned to speak with the commander. This time, Lochan was close enough to catch the words, ransom . . . dagger . . . disappear.

The commander’s lips twisted as he nodded. “Very well. We leave the woman untouched.”

***

Adele curled as close to Lochan as she could, the chill of the pebble beach seeping through her coveralls.

Instead of finding sheltering rocks, the despoilers chose to camp against the sheared dune.

Without a fire, it would not be visible from altitude.

It was also open to the wind, a situation that did not trouble the despoilers lounging on pallets made from a hodgepodge of survival gear and what she recognized as packing insulation from the equipment containers.

No matter how uncomfortable the beach, it was better than suffering the attentions of those men.

Her mind shied away from the memory of those few moments of terror before Lochan came to her rescue with his fanciful tale of a consort alliance.

Rather than dwell on those chilling moments, her mind wandered to Rogue.

She hoped he had found a warm place for the night.

She tried not to worry that he might be hungry.

He was still more of a puppy than a grown dog and she feared he might not have learned to hunt.

At the north end of the small camp, loud sounds of passion emanated from the small shelter created by the glider wings. The commander and the lieutenant had disappeared half a period ago, their intentions blatant. By the guards’ indifference, it was probably a regular occurrence.

Fortunately, the camp was not far from where they were captured. It had taken both Adele’s and Lochan’s support to help Samson down the rough pebble beach. Collapsed on Lochan’s other side, Samson’s eyes were closed and his breathing labored. At least the sealant had held.

Resting her head on Lochan’s chest, she felt the light touch of his breath when he spoke, “Can you reach the blade in my boot?”

Blade? Samson’s blade. The despoilers were as ill-disciplined as she suspected when they bound her hands in front instead of behind her.

That was a mistake she was about to exploit.

Curling a little closer, as if seeking more warmth, she slid down on Lochan’s chest until she could reach the blade.

At Lochan’s whispered instructions, she managed to slide it into his bound hands.

His lips pressed against her head. “Well done.”

“What is our plan?”

“We wait for them to fall asleep.”

Given the level of activity, that was likely to be some time yet. Curling against him, she asked, “How did they find us so soon?”

“I suspect they had their flyers in the air during the raid. Their intention was always hostages, but they did not want us escaping with knowledge of their location.”

“They saw the crash.”

“And the gliders deploy.”

They would have known Lochan and Adele survived. “How did they hide from our flyer’s instruments?”

There was regret in his voice. “I was focused on escape. It did not occur to me to look for other flyers. Or any other stellar transports.”

“You are not to blame.”

He sighed. “The mission is my responsibility.”

“We are alive and found despoilers. That is not a failure.”

He made a noncommittal sound.

Unable to think of anything that would convince him, she asked, “How are they planning to negotiate? Captain Raleigh will need proof of life, but they do not dare bring you into the open. They cannot stand against the Nightingale.”

Samson’s voice was a rasp. “Slates. Tied into the flyers. How they keep track of work groups.”

“I do not understand.”

Beneath her cheek, Lochan huffed. “I do. Tethering slates to the flyer communications system is standard practice. In this case, it creates a closed network. The cart that stayed by the wreckage—those despoilers will have a slate. As will the commander. They can show me alive in a visual.”

“I did not know slates could do visual communications.”

“It is slow and cumbersome, and only viable over short distances. It would not work from planet surface to a flyer.”

“Could the Nightingale follow the signal?”

“Not without the access code.”

The lieutenant’s voice cut through the darkening night. “Did anyone feed the prisoners?”

At the mumbled denials, she snatched a nutrition bar and a water vial from the stack of provisions. “Dead hostages are useless.”

Adele pulled away from Lochan as the woman stalked toward them. The lieutenant gave Adele a knowing smirk as she dropped the bar and vial into Adele’s lap. “That is all you get.” She inclined her head toward Samson. “I wouldn’t waste any on him.”

As soon as the woman left, Adele tore the bar in thirds and tried to feed the first piece to Samson.

He turned his head away. “Not going to make it.”

“Take some water, at least.”

He tried to refuse, but when she dribbled a little on his lips, his mouth opened. At Lochan’s nod, she gave him two-thirds of the vial, keeping only enough for the two of them to wash down the nutrition bar.

***

Lochan had few regrets in his life, only a handful of youthful mistakes that made him cringe in memory.

Naught to compare to the soul-tearing sorrow that his inadequacies had led Adele to this moment.

He had no doubt that Raleigh would negotiate, do anything to buy time and rescue them, but he would not let the despoilers leave Prime alive.

If the commander or the lieutenant realized that before the Nightingale could rescue them .

. . He shuddered and forced away the thought.

Somehow, he had to find a way out of this.

Or at least find a way for Adele to escape.

That thought had potential. He could be free of his bonds at will, but he needed a plan.

A means to keep the despoilers distracted while she escaped.

Not only escape, but get away to somewhere they could not recapture her before she was rescued.

Mind churning, he developed and discarded one scenario after another.

Adele sighed and curled closer. “There is a new moon. Only a sliver, but a horned moon is a sign of Mulan’s favor.”

“We will need more than her wisdom. I wish you had been able to deploy the beacon before you were captured.”

She started, tilting her head to meet his eyes. “You did not see it?”

She lifted her hands to touch the pocket at her sternum—the one that held the ball of Rogue’s used bindings, a ball that was the same size as the beacon.

His heart soared. From its size, she had only wrapped it once, not enough to block the signal.

How had she managed? “You did not do this in an eight-count.”

“I knew as soon as you went out, it would not work. They had seen us running.” Her fingers traced his jaw. “I had the beacon wrapped before they started counting. I dumped the pistol from my pocket and the flare from the bag. I pulled off Rogue’s harness while walking to the opening.”

“You brilliant, beautiful woman.”