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Authors: Tracy St. John

Alien Hostage (13 page)

BOOK: Alien Hostage
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He smirked at her, his well-made features turning ugly with a sneer. “You don’t have to do that. Maf brought a nice little dress for the princess to wear for her vid.”

Now he told her. She’d been scrubbing for nearly an hour, making her hands and arms one huge ache. Ket had walked by the outside of the containment area at least three times, pointedly looking at her with an attitude of ownership.

Asshole. It was going to feel so good if she ever got the chance to kill him. It was a thought that somehow scared and soothed her at the same time.

Tasha stood up straight, making her knees pop as they released the stiffness of the crouch she’d been in for so long. She wrung the dress and shook it out, pretending she didn’t notice the drops of water darting in Ket’s direction. If the small splatters bothered him, he didn’t comment. He seemed to be content to stand close, intimidating her with his presence in her personal space.

Tasha finally gave the silent Nobek her attention. She did it slowly, letting her gaze crawl up his long, strong legs. She stalled for a moment as she took in his crotch. It was impossible to tell if her inspection aroused or worried him, as the body armor of his sleeveless black formsuit kept things covered. Then Tasha let her gaze rise, noting his torso.

The fool puffed out his already impressive chest as she studied him. Yeah, he was full of himself all right. At least he wouldn’t suspect anything when she fawned over him.

Tasha licked her lips, noting how Ket’s eyes widened a little at the gesture. She made her voice as low and husky as she dared – she still had to appear more frightened than interested. Full-on flirtation would make even a blockhead like Ket suspicious. “Maf likes to surround himself with the biggest and baddest of Nobeks, doesn’t he?”

Ket smirked. “I am his favorite. I have proved myself worthy in every way to his cause.”

Tasha widened her eyes. “I’ve noticed. It must have been easy for a man like you to get his attention.”

Ket preened under her impressed act. He stood straighter and more proudly with her every word. Tasha would have ruined everything by laughing had she not wanted so badly to tear his stupid head off.

He slung an arm around her and pulled her in close. The sour smell of old bohut made her want to gag as he said, “Many try to be in the Basma’s inner circle. I have all the right skills, but it takes a bit of luck to catch his attention too.”

“You wouldn’t need luck.” Tasha could have gagged on the words as much as the stench coming off the man, but being on Ket’s good side might make all the difference later.

“Eventually I would have come to the Basma’s attention, but no one wants to wait for glory. I have the good fortune of being his lover’s son and his natural son’s half-brother.”

“I didn’t know Maf had a son.”

“Most don’t. It is kept quiet since our mother Feyom is clanned to my fathers.”

Tasha wondered at Ket’s casual attitude. Most Kalquorian men would think it the height of dishonor for any of their parents to cheat on their clanmates. Ket seemed to not care his mother had slept with the Basma and had a son outside her clan.

That was neither here nor there at the moment. Her one aim was to gain a measure of Ket’s trust so he’d be sloppy later. “You and Maf’s natural son are a big part of the rebellion?”

Ket snorted and spit on the ground. Tasha hid her repugnance as he snarled, “My brother is too stupid to appreciate his father. He worries about his reputation. The fool doesn’t realize his biological sire is a legend already. But I ... I have taken his place. I am not the Basma’s blood, but I am more a son to him than Falinset. I will be the heir to Maf’s kingdom.”

He spoke with fervent hope. Too much of it. Tasha thought that the Basma had not given the role of son to Ket at all, that the Nobek was still trying to make that ached-for relationship happen.

Ket looked her up and down with more interest than she liked, putting a stop to her ruminations. Tasha’s mouth went dry to be ogled with overt lust, and she was hard pressed to keep from recoiling.

Ket said, “The Basma will have no further use for you once he gets that vid of the princess made. You are going to be very popular when that happens. The rest of the men are already talking about how good it will be to feel such a soft, yielding body instead of these other bags of bones.”

Tasha didn’t try to hide the dismay in her tone. “I’m not looking forward to that.”

Ket laughed hard at her comment. Apparently Tasha’s dislike of her future rapes was hilarious to him. “Perhaps we will disappoint them. I can be nice to Earthers who are nice to me. Things like protection from the other men, a little extra food, a whole night in a soft bed, or even a real bath.”

He acted like he was being magnanimous, offering her basic rights and sustenance. Tasha managed to give him a look that spoke of fear and hope and conciliation.

“I can be nice,” she said.

Ket snorted. Still holding Tasha close with one arm, he groped her breasts with demand. He twisted and squeezed, his abusive grip hurting her. Tasha winced but made no effort to escape. In fact, she burrowed closer to Ket, hanging onto him. She held his gaze with frightened, beseeching eyes while her heart pounded with rage.

I will cover myself in your blood. I will dance on your rotting corpse. I will laugh at the music of you screaming for mercy
.

Her chest throbbed when Ket finally quit mauling it. His hand peppered her cheek a couple of times, more like slaps than pats. He wore his smug smile again, the smile that said the world belonged to Nobek Ket. He held her as if claiming his latest possession.

“You
can
be nice, can’t you? I look forward to finding out how nice you are. Until then, Imperial Cousin.”

He let go of Tasha at last, offering her a mocking bow and a wink. Then he turned and swaggered off, King Ket of the Basma’s dirt compound.

Tasha watched him go, reaching inside her blouse to adjust the bra he’d shifted around during his brutal pawing. She didn’t feel the pain of the bruises he’d inflicted or the robbing of her dignity. She felt only fury.

She looked herself over to make sure everything was covered and in place as it should be. Satisfied with her appearance, Tasha muttered under her breath, “You will find out exactly how nice I am, Ket. I will happily kill you with my kindness.”

* * * *

Tasha brushed Noelle’s hair until it shone more like pure silver than steel in the dying light from the barracks’ open doorway. She ignored the ache in her left breast, though every movement of the arm on that side made it dig in deeper. Ket had provided the brush she wielded, giving it to her like the keys to a castle. She’d thanked him submissively while imagining jamming it down his throat.

Most of the other women gathered close by. Amy stood sentry at the door, watching the goings on. The vid crew had arrived and were busy setting up in the compound. Tasha knew there had been some discussion about moving the recording site since the yard was so incredibly grim, but Maf’s orders had been clear before he, Sitrel, and Feyom left: under no circumstances was the princess to be removed from the containment area.

Things were being brought in to dress up the set, to make it look like Noelle was being kept in comfort. What exactly those preparations were, Tasha didn’t yet know. She thought it odd that they would shoot vid outdoors so close to nightfall, however.

She finished brushing the little girl’s hair. It lay like liquid metal down the back and shoulders of the velvet navy dress Maf had provided. The dress brought out Noelle’s eyes, giving the purple a distinctive bluish cast. For all the trauma the child had endured, she looked beautiful.

Noelle sat on one of the sleeping pallets closest to the door. Tasha knelt at her feet so she could easily look her in the eye. She gave Noelle an encouraging smile.

“You know how to be brave, don’t you?” she asked quietly.

Noelle regarded her with a gravity that seemed far too old for her. “Like my fathers and their fathers. Like my mother. Like Aunt Lindsey when she had to fight to live on Earth after Army-geddin. Like you and Cissy were on Earth too. Like Wayne at training camp.”

She had heard the stories of her family’s exploits. Kalquorians liked to share the lessons they and their ancestors had learned to entertain and teach their children. Tasha could tell Noelle felt pride in her family of survivors.

Tasha nodded. “You come from a long line of warriors and great leaders. Now it is time to add your name to the brave members of the Imperial Family. Can you do it?”

“I am ready.” A slight tremor ran through the little girl’s body, but Noelle stuck her lower lip out. It was her stubborn look, the one that even Jessica dreaded to see. Tasha took grim delight in seeing the expression.

“Good. Here’s what’s going to happen, Noelle. We are going to make a vid for Mommy and your fathers. You will be told what to say by the bad men. Say whatever they want you to.”

“Obey them,” Noelle confirmed.

“You are pretending to be a good girl for them. It’s no different than pretending with your dolls.”

“Are we going to do something to them?” Excitement made her eyes sparkle for the first time since they’d been taken.

Tasha shook her head. “We can’t fight them, sweetheart. Most of them are trained Nobeks. So we have to try our best to escape.”

Noelle’s face pinched with the effort of concentration. “Okay.”

“When the time is right, I will either pick you up and run or I will tell you to run. I need you to be ready for that.”

Noelle’s expression became concerned. She looked at the other women surrounding her. “Are we all going?”

Tasha’s throat closed up. It was Sonia who answered, “Not yet. We’ll get you out and then we’ll come later when we can.”

“I don’t want to leave you here with the bad men.” Noelle’s stubborn face was back.

Sonia gave her a wink. “It’s only for a little while. If you escape, you can tell your parents to come rescue us. That will help even more.”

Tasha recovered her ability to speak. “They won’t be left here for very long, Noelle.” She said it with determination.

Sonia’s look was cynical. She didn’t believe anyone would leave alive. None of the women did, but they were all okay with it. They’d had enough of Ket and his horrors.

Amy scurried from the door to stand next to Sonia. “Here comes Ket.”

Tasha looked Noelle over with a critical eye. The little girl showed no sign of tears. Her young face wore a look beyond her years, one of determination and intent. It was the same expression everyone else had.

Tasha nodded her approval. Noelle was the daughter of the Imperial Clan, all right. “Okay. Just do what I tell you and we’ll be okay.”

She stood as Ket entered the shelter and hoped she hadn’t lied to the child.

The women silently shrank away from the Nobek’s approach as he made his way to Tasha and Noelle. His bow to the child held no respect at all, his smile a hateful leer. “We are ready for you, my princess. You may step outside.”

Tasha held her gaze as she took her by the hand. Side by side, they walked towards the door. As she passed Ket, he grabbed Tasha’s ass, squeezing hard. She restrained an urge to punch him in the crotch. The armored formsuit would keep him protected in any case.

They stepped out into the yard. Near the far corner of the shelter, a vid projector had been set up to display a background of a well-appointed room. A large stretch of carpeting covered the dirt before it, and a seating cushion sat in the middle of the tableau. Through a vid recorder, it gave the illusion of serene, cozy surroundings.

Shooting outdoors at night made more sense to Tasha now. There was plenty of room out here for all the equipment, something the cramped shelter wouldn’t have allowed for. Since the set looked like an indoor room, they had perfect control of the artificial lighting one would expect in such a setting, negating the need for sunlight. She had to admit grudging respect.

The vid crew paid little attention to Tasha and Noelle’s approach. A Dramok in a blue tunic and matching trousers squinted at the sun, its upper curve just visible over the stretch of trees beyond the lone mini-shuttle on the landing pad. He barked a series of orders in Kalquorian at his crew, which was made up of two more Dramoks and an Imdiko. As they scurried around, he turned his gaze to Tasha and Noelle. His expression was critical as he eyed the little girl.

Tasha’s grasp of Kalquorian was modest, but she picked up enough to understand what the Dramok – apparently the director of this farce – said to his men. “Okay, get that backdrop locked in and double check the monitor for scan lines. Bring those toys over. She needs to look like she’s being well cared for.”

As they flew about the set to finish putting the final touches together, Tasha glanced over her shoulder. Ket moved to hover over the director of the vid, his interest avid. The rest of the women filed out of the barracks, their expressions those of the curious bystanders who wanted to see what all the fuss was about. They spread out in small groups around the scenery, keeping back for the moment. They’d move in closer once the vid started recording.

The security guards were gathering too, moving so they could see what was going on. A jolt of satisfaction filled Tasha’s heart as the containment field was partially disabled long enough to allow the sentries on the outside of it to enter into the yard for a closer look. She’d noticed and Sonia had confirmed that the guards tended to be lax when Maf or Sitrel were not around. They pretended to take the threat of the beaten Earthers’ chances of escape seriously only then. It was a mistake Tasha was ready to capitalize on.

BOOK: Alien Hostage
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