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“HOW DO YOU FIND YOUR way around the ship? Everything is the same. You must have a great sense of direction,” Helena prattled while wrinkling her tiny nose. It was no wonder humans lacked a keen sense of smell when they had such inadequate olfactory organs. However, on her, the nose looked...appropriate. Not altogether displeasing. The honey fragrance she exuded didn’t smell that bad, either.
Her snout is very cute, the dragon said. And she smells delectable.
It is a nose, not a snout. I did not say it was very cute, only that it is not unattractive.
Very cute.
“I have an unerring sense of direction,” he replied. The ship didn’t allow her to see what he saw. In the unlikely event they got hijacked, the craft’s design would hinder invaders from reaching the bridge or engine room. Without access privileges, a person saw passage after passage of gray-green walls, unbroken by signage, doors, observation ports, or elevation tubes.
To further disorient her, he’d led her in circles—as J’toh had been instructed to do with Henry and Patsy. Until the humans had proven their trustworthiness, he would adhere to stringent security measures.
An ensign in demiforma rounded the corner. His skin was scaled, his head thorny and horned. A long ridged tail twitched as he strode their direction. She widened her eyes, and her mouth formed an O.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
“Haven’t you seen a dragon in demiforma?”
“Only on vid.”
Thorns sprouted from his forehead, his neck thickened and lengthened, growing a frill. His jaw jutted outward, giving room for his teeth to elongate and sharpen. His jumpsuit split in the back as an abbreviated tail sprang out. He stretched, relieved to be out of man form.
Helena’s jaw dropped. “Wow.”
“Draconians are omni-shapeshifters,” he explained. “Our full forms feel the most natural, but as you’ve seen, we are very large, so this compact size is less cumbersome, especially for space travel.” Comfortable at first, demiforma became a strain to maintain, and eventually one had to shift, so every craft had flex chambers.
Since the shift on Elementa, the ennui had vanished, and he felt like his normal self again. All I needed was a shift.
All we needed was our mate, the dragon said. Our dragoness.
T’mar recoiled. She is human.
She has fyre.
I see no evidence of that.
It glows like an ember.
“So, what are your expectations of me? As your consort, I mean,” she asked.
None. He had no expectations, but, still shaken by the dragon’s words, he had no ready answer for her.
We must mark her and claim her as ours.
There would be no marking. The dragon had confused his uncharacteristic liking of a human with desire.
I am not confused or mistaken! The dragon growled.
Helena shrank back. “What’s wrong? What did I say?”
“Nothing.”
“Why did you growl at me?” she said.
She heard us! See, she is our mate, the dragon crowed.
“I apologize.” He had no explanation for how a human had heard the subaural vocalization, but she was not their mate.
Smell her. You will see.
I don’t need to smell her. But he found himself leaning in, sniffing. With olfaction more sensitive in demiforma, the alluring scent of female, warm and musky with an exotic tinge, drifted up to his nose, teasing, beckoning.
She smells gooood. The dragon hummed.
“Are you smelling me?” She canted her head.
“I’m a dragon; it’s what we do.” He flashed a mouthful of fangs, hoping to scare her off.
But she held her ground and stared at him. “Even in demiforma, you still have dimples!”
“What are dimples?”
She touched her face. “When you smile, your cheeks indent a little. It’s cute.”
We have dimples! She likes us! We will woo her. We will court her. Then we will mate—
“I have no expectations of you as my consort,” he answered her question, which, he hoped would put a stop to the dragon’s nonsense.
Consort no. Mate, yesss. She is delectable.
“The whole idea was King K’rah’s. Not mine.”
“Will I have any, uh, duties?” Her chin lifted and jutted out. “Political...or, uh, personal?”
“None. When we arrive on Draco, I will deposit you in the harem.”
“Harem? Harem? Like an area for women only?”
“Yes.”
“Will I get to see you?”
“For what reason? You and I will have no need for further contact with each other.” He stopped outside her quarters. “Your room is here.”
“Didn’t we pass this area once before?”
Twice before, but she shouldn’t have noticed at all. “Go inside.”
“Through the wall?”
“The entry is here.” He gestured.
Extending her arms, she inched toward the door. It slid open, though she couldn’t see it. She passed into her quarters and whirled around. An expression of surprise that could have been comical lit her face before the door slid shut; and blocked her from his view.
T’mar strode away.
* * * *
HELENA RUBBED HER NECK. The swing of emotions had been enough to give her whiplash. What the heck happened? Why did she feel she’d missed some important subtext? They had seemed to be getting along—until they weren’t. After emitting some weird, almost sexual vibe, he’d gone cold as ice.
Instead of feeling rejected, she should rejoice he intended never to bother her again. The whole conjugal specter had been one of her chief concerns. Now that she knew he had no expectations of that nature, she should feel happy. Okay, maybe not happy—nothing about this situation was good—but relieved.
She sighed and turned away from the wall—the one she’d passed through—and set her hood on a low table. Without air being pumped into the bulky, heavy hazmat suit, she’d gotten hot and sweaty. She itched to remove it, but first, she stopped to survey her quarters.
Furniture and fixtures stuck to the dull gray-green color scheme as if the Draconians had taken decorating tips from an army surplus store—but her room had all the accoutrements a guest or a hostage could desire. Well-appointed, the suite could almost be considered luxurious. A long ash-colored comfy divan-like structure faced several large chairs in a coordinating grayish green. Large gaps in the furniture backs created a picketed effect in the seating.
What an odd design. She passed her hand through a gap in one of the chairs. Oh! It’s for their tails.
She recalled the prince in his demiforma state. As a humanoid, he was model gorgeous. As a dragon, he was magnificent, fierce, powerful. In demiforma, he was a mix of both. Topaz eyes glinted with keen intelligence. His face, roughened by scales and framed by a leathery frill, still dimpled when he smiled. Who knew a dragon could have dimples? Did the beast have them? She hadn’t noticed before, but she’d be sure to check the next time he shifted.
An ache settled in her chest. If I get to see him. He intended to get rid of her when they got to Draco. What had caused the switch in his attitude? He’d even growled at her! He’d denied it, but she’d heard it loud and clear. It had startled her at first, but in reality, he didn’t scare her that much. He aroused her curiosity. The differences between them fascinated her, and she wanted to learn more about him. The more she could find out about Prince T’mar and Draco, the better she would be able to resolve the differences between dragons and humans and maybe bring peace to a threatened world.
Judging from the furniture, arranged in a cozy conversational grouping, the Draconians were social. She wished her social circle, Patsy and Henry, were with her so they could compare notes. She wondered where they’d been taken, how far away they were. Were the two of them together, or had they been split up? Had T’mar divided them so he could conquer them?
Off the room was a doorway, the first one she’d seen since boarding the ship. As she approached it, it slid back into the wall to reveal a huge bedroom, evidenced by an enormous round pedestal bed.
Her luggage was stacked against the wall. She unzipped her hazmat suit and shimmied out of it, leaving it on the bed. Perspiration had dampened her clothing underneath.
After a brief search, she discovered a bathroom. She recognized the commode—some things remained the same across the galaxy—but the “shower” resembled a death-ray tube out of a science fiction movie. The cylindrical chamber was fitted with high-tech dials, levers, and nozzles. What if it didn’t spray water? What if she turned it on and flames shot out? What if their idea of a shower was burning off impurities?
Better get some instruction before showering. I’d hate to vaporize myself.
At least she could change out of her sticky clothes. She returned to the bedroom and grabbed a trunk from the top of the stack. The wall wavered and shimmered, transforming into a wardrobe. “Well, that’s interesting.” She backed up, and the closet disappeared.
Step forward. Appear. Step back. Disappear.
How did one tell what was here and what wasn’t? Were there doors she couldn’t see? Why were the bed and sofa visible but not the wardrobe?
She slung the case onto the bed and opened it, pulling out a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, and began unpacking the rest of her stuff, curious to see what Patsy had bought.
The few items she’d sneaked out of Bunker One had been chosen because they could be hidden under her regular clothing. Patsy’s outfits were more functional—the sort of items a fashionable “glamper” would wear—utilitarian and stylish, exactly what Helena would have selected. How well her friend knew her.
Their relationship had always been cordial and professional, but after Rhianna had left she and Patsy had grown much closer. The older woman had helped her out many times, having a sixth sense for what Helena needed at the moment she needed it.
She eyed the pitiful items she’d bought at Drugs & More. She didn’t need the sneakers and shirt now, but they symbolized what she was fighting for.
This is all that’s left for so many. Supplies had vanished as people stockpiled and others looted. Fear had thrown an entire civilization into survival mode. She had to find a way to bring peace between the two worlds if they were ever to have a normal life again.
But would she get a chance? Prince T’mar had indicated he intended to wash his hands of her. When they got to Draco, would she be confined or free to go where she pleased? Either way, it seemed she would be marginalized. The story of my life.
This time, she’d be relegated to a harem. Did T’mar’s mother and sisters live there? She wondered how they’d react to her. She assumed she’d be the sole human—unless Patsy went with her. She hoped they could be together. What would happen to Henry? There was so much uncertainty.
Stowing the last of her possessions in the wardrobe, she peeled off her damp clothes and donned the jeans and top then returned to the outer room to better investigate her quarters.
Remembering how the wardrobe had remained hidden until she got close to it, she walked the perimeter of the room. Nothing happened until she reached the third wall. Then a big screen materialized. She waved her hands over it and poked all around it trying to activate it, but it remained dark.
She moved on to the fourth wall, the one she’d passed through to enter. Moving through it hadn’t felt any different than passing through...an open door. Perhaps doors were just invisible to the human eye.
She scurried to the spot where she thought she’d entered and took a giant step—and smacked into a solid wall. “Ow!” She scowled and rubbed her forehead. So much for that theory.
Unless...she wasn’t in the exact location. Moving to the right she shuffled forward—and found herself in the passageway. She pivoted and skipped back in her quarters.
Outside. In. Outside. “Freaky!”
“It sure is!” Patsy entered into the corridor from the opposite side.
Helena dashed over and hugged her. “I’m so glad to see you! Do you know where Henry is?”
“Here!” His head poked out of the “wall” a short distance away.
“I worried we’d been separated for good,” Helena said.
Henry ambled over. “We passed this spot at least a couple of times before we ‘arrived.’ The escort led us on a wild-goose chase.”
So it wasn’t just her impression. “Same with me! At least they put us near each other.”
“The better to keep an eye on us,” he said.
“How’s your room?” Patsy asked.
“Very nice. How’s yours?”
“Adequate.”
“Fine,” Henry said.
“Do you have one of those weird showers?” she asked.
Henry nodded. “It has settings for sonic cleansing, disinfecting mist, and a light laser wash. I took a sonic shower. It worked pretty good,” he said, and Helena noticed he wore fresh clothing. Patsy, too.
“Can you show me how to use it?” she asked. “All those dials and knobs and sprayers—I was afraid I’d set myself on fire.”
He laughed. “Come on, I’ll show you.”
Helena passed through the wall of her unit. And waited. Weren’t they coming? What were they doing out there? She waited a moment longer and stepped back into the corridor. Henry and Patsy stood there.
“What happened?” she asked. “You were right behind me.”
“We can’t get in,” he said. “We’re blocked from entering your unit.”
“I wonder if I can enter yours? And if you can enter each other’s? Let’s try.”
They were all blocked from each other’s units. “Oh, for goodness’ sake!”
“They’re trying to prevent us from congregating,” Patsy said.
“We’re congregating now,” Henry pointed out. “Why put us in close proximity if they didn’t want us to contact one another? I suspect our access is restricted all over the ship. They’re controlling where we go, what we do.”
“I have an idea,” Helena said. “Let’s try it together. Let’s enter my quarters at the same time.”
Clasping hands, she and Henry stood in front of the invisible door. “Ready? On three. One. Two. Three.” Together they took a big step—and entered her unit. “It worked!” She high-fived Henry and then hugged him. “I’ll get Patsy!”
She stepped into the corridor and held out her hand. “Your turn,” she said.
“You two go ahead. I’m going to check out the ship—as much as it will let me.”
“Not by yourself!” Helena objected. “It’s not safe. You could get lost.”
“I won’t go far. I want to see if there’s a mess hall close by. Nobody said a word about meals. I didn’t think to ask.”
She still didn’t like the idea of her friend going off by herself. “What if you encounter a dragon?”
Patsy snorted. “I hope I do. I have to get used to them. You and Henry seem to be handling this fine, but they’ve got me pretty freaked. I’m the one who fainted dead away. Do you know how embarrassing that was? I need to face my fear and conquer it.”
“You shouldn’t be embarrassed! Anybody could have fainted.”
“You didn’t. Henry didn’t. I promise I won’t go far or be gone long. Go take your shower.”
Living in fear robbed life of its joy. Helena had been there. Faced with danger, she had fled, but Patsy was dealing with her fear head-on. “You’re much braver than I am,” she said. “I admire you.”
“Sometimes we have to do the hard stuff.” Patsy took off down the hall, and Helena stepped back inside her room. “Your sister’s not coming in. She’s going exploring, to find food.” She omitted mention of Patsy’s need to conquer her fear. If Patsy wished Henry to know, she’d tell him.
He frowned. “What’s wrong with the food replicator in her room?”
“We have a food replicator?”
“I kind of figured they’d have to feed us. So I poked around a bit. Your room is arranged a little different than ours, so it might be in another spot, but take a look. Mine activated with my palm.” He stood up and pointed to a spot on the wall. “Try pressing there.”
Nothing happened, but after three more presses in different locations, a food dispenser shot out of the wall.
“Oh my gosh! Thank you!” Helena hugged him. “Have you eaten?”
“Yes.” He drew a finger along a row of unusual symbols. “Pressing the buttons in a different sequence will get you different kinds of food. The first, third, and fourth buttons pressed together aren’t bad. I don’t recommend two, three, and four.” He shuddered.
“Okay, I’ll try a one, three, and four.” Carefully she hit the buttons.
The machine hummed for about thirty seconds, and then a drawer shot out to offer up a party-sized platter loaded with brownish hockey puck biscuits.
“I forgot to mention the portions are generous.” He chuckled. “Here, try it.” He handed her one.
“You’ve eaten this, right?”
“Yep. I figured if they wanted to kill us, it wouldn’t be by poisoning.”
“That’s reassuring.” She nibbled the biscuit. It was a savory, meaty...something. She’d never tasted anything like it. She took another bite. “Have some?” She motioned.
“No, thanks. I’ve eaten my fill.”
The food replicator retreated into the wall again. She carried the platter to the sofa and set it on a table. “I wish Patsy hadn’t gone off by herself. Let me check on her.” Poking her head into the corridor, she spied her friend at the end of the passage. Helena ducked back inside.
“She can handle herself,” Henry said.
“Why am I more worried about her than you are? She’s your sister!”
“Actually, she’s not.”
“You mean you are married?” She recalled their cover story.
“No. I need to bring you into the loop. The world situation has changed, and I doubt any of us will go back to Earth again. Patsy and I were partners, operatives in the Central Intelligence Agency.”
“Spies?”
“Our cover got compromised, so we were pulled in. Patsy went to work for your father, and I joined the Secret Service. So, she’s quite capable of taking care of herself.”
That explained a lot: how Patsy always seemed to be in the know, how the two of them had been able to get fake documents.
“We were given new identities and a little plastic surgery.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose.
“I had no idea.”
“You weren’t supposed to. However, sources told me Biggs had begun asking questions. Patsy and I have information he could exploit. When we lost our positions, it seemed like a good time to get out of Dodge—so, you see, our coming here wasn’t solely about helping you. I suspect Biggs figured out who we had been and had us terminated to apply the pressure. I have a hunch he intended to present us with an offer we couldn’t refuse.
“Patsy is very fond of you, and we both believe Biggs needs to be neutralized. I’m sharing this information so you’ll understand that our training and skills can benefit you.” He spread his hands. “And that you don’t need to worry about Patsy—she can take care of herself.”
Unless she encounters a dragon and faints. No wonder her friend was so determined to conquer her fear. Helena took another bite of the biscuit and mulled over what she’d learned.
“Your skill set was in technology, wasn’t it?” she guessed.
“Patsy was the expert in that area, but I do all right.”
“That’s how you were able to figure out the shower, find the food replicator.”
“Draconian tech is different, much more advanced than ours, but I kind of know what to look for.”
She finished off the biscuit and beckoned. “Then come show me how to use the shower!”
