Alien, Awakening Page 6
He seemed to manage to free the obstruction causing his distress.
“I’m fine. Your self-assurance is not a complication.” He cleared his throat again. “I admire your tenacity. We will continue.”
She sent him an assessing stare, uncertain yet eager to continue. He raised his eye-ridges at her then gazed around the small cavern. “Where do we proceed next?”
She pulled in a long, slow breath of cool, crisp air then turned towards the left-hand tunnel. “This one first.”
Chapter 3
T’Hargen dropped Kathryn’s backpack to the ground and sent his gaze around the large cavern, eyeing the long extension of the roots and unfamiliar apparatus.
“The roots seem to graft into the computers,” Kathryn said. “At least I presume they’re computers.”
“It’s possible they are.”
He strode across the rock floor to the machinery, tapped a greyed-out panel that looked like a reactive screen. Nothing. Kathryn’s warm presence enlivened his side and he sent her an arch glance. “Did you ‘touch’ these?”
She rolled her eyes at him. “Yes, T’Hargen, I touched these, and nothing happened.”
A smile teased his lips. “You mentioned a food processor?”
She nodded briskly, turned, and headed to their right. “Here.”
Beside a separate, compact unit, her sleeping bag lay neatly rolled.
“You spent the night down here?”
“I did.”
He pressed his lips against his teeth to obstruct the flow of words eager to admonish her, and tapped the food processor.
“Does it provide anything?”
Her mouth twisted in a moue of distaste. “Nutritious paste.”
Alarmed dismay swept through him. “You consumed it?”
The corner of her mouth twisted up, she dropped her weight onto one hip. “Sure, T’Hargen, I gobbled up an entire plateful of untested, unidentified organic content.” She straightened and scorched him with a withering glance. “Of course I didn’t eat it. Besides, it looked extremely unappetising. Didn’t smell all that great either.”
He expelled a slow breath. “My apologies, Kathryn. That was thoughtless of me.”
For a moment she stared at him. Assessment and confusion lurked in the back of her eyes, then she nodded. Her white teeth peeked out from behind the alluring curve of her parted, berry-brown lips.
Alluring curve? g’Nel’s handmaidens, what prompts these thoughts?
Not even when he’d been trapped by the false promise of peace he’d imagined she represented had such . . . ergonomic thoughts occurred to him.
“There’s more.” She turned and strode to a large section of uniformly flat wall, at least twenty feet square, and encompassed the area in a broad wave of her hands. “I’m sure TL tells me this is a viewing frame.” Her shoulders lifted in a shrug. “I’m guessing that’s something like a big screen, but I’m buggered if I can figure out how to view anything on it. Perhaps, like the other machinery here, except maybe the food processor which possibly isn’t working properly, it’s as dead as a door nail.”
“You understand the device?”
“Device?” She looked over her shoulder at him.
He nodded towards the drone. She turned to him, a defensive line in her posture.
“He might be artificial, T’Hargen, but he’s not a device. He’s an individual.”
“You made that assessment quickly.”
Her eyes narrowed and a wave of coldness washed onto her features.
“I do not contest your evaluation,” he added hastily. “It is merely an observation.”
I must cease challenging her intelligence, and her profession.
He turned his scanner to the rock face, analysed the readings then frowned. “The equipment is not door-nail dead.” He wasn’t sure if his attempt to use her terminology was successful, though she made no correction. “I hazard it is operating on standby power. This”—he gestured towards the rock wall—“is a very sophisticated hologram.”
“A hologram? Why conceal a viewing screen behind a hologram—behind anything for that matter?”
“Any number of reasons. Why the architects of this equipment did so, I don’t have sufficient information at hand to form a theory.” The flicker of shadowing bandwidths on his scanner questioned his interpretation of the data and he turned it to the ceiling. “That’s unusual.”
“What is?”
“The energy signature of the equipment mimics that of the roots.”
“Protection of some kind? Digital camouflage?”
He sharpened the parameters of the scan and lifted his eye-ridges in surprise at the results. “Possibly, but this indicates the machinery does not mimic, it is identical.”
“What would cause that?”
Yes, what would cause that? He eyed the configuration of plant and machinery. “I would postulate that the equipment is feeding off the plants.”
“Feeding?”
“The equipment appears to be using the energy produced by the plants to maintain itself.”
“Like using them as a battery?”
“A source of power, yes.”
Kathryn’s gaze swept around the cavern then back to him. “Surely someone did this intentionally? It’s a bit of a stretch to think of machinery enticing vegetation in for a meal.”
“The evidence indicates the arrangement is deliberate, yes. It appears someone discovered how to apply the photovoltaic ability apparently inherent in the vegetation, to their machinery.”
“The plants are photovoltaic? That’s great news for our settlement! We’ve got to tell someone about this discovery.”
He gave her a wry look. “As head of covert operations in this sector I am someone, Kathryn.”
A flash of surprise flitted across her features and a curl of disappointment wormed through his gut. Why should her lack of esteem for his standing in the Alliance trouble him?
“I meant no offense, T’Hargen. I had no idea this would fall under your purview.”
He accepted her apology with a slight incline of his head. “It’s part of what I do: investigate anomalies.”
“Well, what do we do from here?”
“I think further investigation is in order before we return.”
He glanced around the cavern once more then settled his gaze on the alleged viewing frame. A laser bolt should disrupt the light diffraction of the hologram enough to reveal what lay hidden behind it. He pulled his laser from its holster and pointed it at the rock.
Memories of the last time he’d thought to shoot his way through a barrier ricocheted through his mind—in much the same manner as his laser bolt had from the protected door at which he’d fired.
He lowered his weapon.
“Kathryn, did you touch it?”
“Yes, T’Hargen, I think I touched every darn inch of it.”
“Did you ask it to open?”
“In what language?”
Good point.
“I did ask TL,” she continued. “He said he couldn’t.” Her eyebrows rose in a rueful twist. “I did try ‘speak friend and see’.” She shrugged one shoulder. “Didn’t work.”
He was certain there was some deeper significance to her words, but failed to grasp it. It didn’t appear to be of consequence so he pushed the riddle aside.
“You never answered me how it is that you understand the drone.”
She turned to regard him, as though evaluating what lay behind the question and what response she might receive from him with her answer.
“I don’t know. He pipes those rippling cadenzas and I”—her shoulders twitched—“just seem to understand.”
“And he comprehends you.”
“Curious.”
“Not really. It doesn’t take your cerebral translators long to pick up a language.”
“True, but they still need some basic forms to begin with.” He turned his gaze to the drone and stared at it in the vain hope that the answers he sought would suddenly manifest. “He certainly seems to have taken a liking to you.”
“Feeling’s mutual.”
Why is that so? Why has this thing attached itself to Kathryn?
He didn’t trust it and couldn’t divine its motives.
“Another tunnel led away from the other cavern. Did you explore that?”
Kathryn nodded. “I did, though I couldn’t get far. There’s been a rock fall and the tunnel is blocked.”
“Our options seem limited, then.”
He consulted his scanner again then followed the readout to one of the white consoles in the bank against the rock wall.
“This is the source of the holographic projection.” He scrutinized the smoky, ceramic inlay for any indication of how to activate the device. A couple of finger taps failed to trigger any sign of output.
There must be some security protecting its use.
A mixture of excitement and suspicion pricked through his gut. Some old, unidentified computers lying in an underground cavern was certainly cause for interest and speculation. Old, unidentified computers laying in an underground cavern in Alliance territory that were security locked? That was cause for alarm and called for swift investigation. He could try to decode the lock, but there were quicker methods to deactivate the hologram.
He lifted his laser and pointed it at the console. A thin beam of golden light streaked across the room towards him. Heat stung his hand like a flame-fired needle. His fingers convulsed, his laser clattered to the rock floor. Cold anger iced his veins and he turned towards the drone.
Kathryn stood beside it, her lips pursed.
“I don’t think he wants you to do that, T’Hargen.”
“Keep that thing under control or I will be the end of it.”
A rumble filled the air from the drone, as if to challenge him. Atavistic energy primed his muscles and reflexes for fight. His scale-plates hardened to battle readiness.
“Now, now, TL,” Kathryn admonished in a calm tone, “you boys have to stop measuring.”
Measuring? Measuring what?
“Does brute force and ignorance always work for you?” Kathryn asked, an undertone of mild scorn scored her words.
His anger morphed into aggravated outrage and his brain seemed to expand with heat, smothering his ability to think. He shoved at his chaotic reactions and gathered some calm from g’Nel-knew-where.
Perhaps this hadn’t been a good idea.
Since coming down here, not only had his usual un-breachable calm deserted him, but his emotions leaned towards irascible and—Trog’s sacs—lustful.
“I will not tolerate a possible covert threat to my society, Kathryn.”
“I’m not asking you to. And for the record, neither will I, but we haven’t considered all the possibilities yet, have we?”
“What do you propose?” he asked, matching her scorn. “Say please?”
She regarded him as though he were a wayward, tottering hatchling, which did not improve his irritability. Her slow, deep breath highlighted her every strong, feminine trait. Despite his large size and daunting demeanour, he did not intimidate her. Admiration lured his anger into desire. The urge to stride to her, wrap her in an imprisoning embrace, and kiss her into appeasement burned through him.
He locked his thigh muscles and held his legs from taking a step that would lead to two, then three. He heaved in breath through flared nostrils, fighting through the need rising in him.
And they thought I needed a psych analyst before. No! Wait. He tried to see reason through the blinding need to stamp his mark on her. Her gaze flickered to his head and he knew his rising cranial ridges disturbed her. Why now? Why respond sexually to her now? Why these see-sawing emotions now?
He ran his gaze over her slim, strong shoulders then down across her generous mammary glands. His fingers twitched as though yearning to test their weight. Her waist, slimmer than shoulders and hips, was not so tiny that he feared breaking her like a twig. Those long legs could keep him pinned to her a—
“Are you done?”
He snapped his wandering gaze back to her face. A fierce light in her eyes levelled a reproving glare at him, as did her crossed arms and firm set of her mouth. He dragged up a roguish grin from long disused memory. Her glare intensified.
What had I . . .? Oh yes.
Physically, she had not changed since the last time they’d met, so what had caused this lustful behaviour? What variable had altered the dynamics between them? Her friendly yet detached attitude? Did that challenge him? He pulled in a calming breath.
“Very well, Kathryn, I am happy to listen to your . . . suggestions.
She narrowed her eyes at him and the flame of desire burning through him lit a spark of joy. What was that emotion? Was he having . . . fun?
Impossible. I don’t experience fun. Not since—
“Although TL admitted he could not open the viewing frame, at the time I did not ask him if he were capable of decoding this locked system you were babbling on about.”
He choked on a gasp. Babbling? Babbling!
“I do not, nor have I ever, babbled,” he growled.
“Okay,” Kathryn demurred, mollifying him. “You were mumbling.”
His aggravation spiked.
“I neither babble nor mumble,” he roared.
She didn’t even blink. “So you weren’t sharing information with me? You were acting as if you were on your own? As though my thoughts were of no consequence to proceedings?”
Just a moment—
“I spoke aloud?”
“I wouldn’t say your enunciation was that precise.”
My enunci— You— I— Agh!
Not even during that final, blistering argument with his brother that had led to their estrangement had he lost the ability to form coherent speech. His practical side pointed out that they were getting off track. He concentrated on slowing his ragged breathing, forced the tension in his neck and back to release, then eased the curved stiffness in fingers he didn’t recall arching and offered her a respectful incline of his head.
“Very well, Kathryn. Would you please ask”—the thing’s name stuck in his throat—“your drone, if he can disengage the security lock on the holographic projector?”
“He can’t.”
Grey and red filmed his vision. His brain seized with an overwhelming influx of exacerbation. Hollow thuds pounded in his ears. Kathryn’s voice came from a long way off as though struggling through a deep layer of sound-reducing foam.
“T’Hargen, breathe. T’Hargen, you need to breathe.”
Slowly, his vision cleared. Fastcrete seemed to lock his muscles in tightly wound rigour. Kathryn’s warm palm cupped his jawline. A flash of pleasure arrowed with unexpected vigour into his dazed mind. He blinked. Kathryn stood before him, her wide-eyed countenance rife with concern and alarm. Her hand moved to his chest, where she rubbed small circles.
“Hey, are you okay?”
The soft worry in her voice eased him down, his wits began to regroup, his heart slowed its frantic gallop. The roar in his ears subsided. Kathryn took a shuffling step back. Then another. Her hands dropped to her sides.
“T’Hargen? Do you need help?”
His reasoning reformed, bonded cleanly, like a lens clicking into optimum alignment. He felt more . . . himself than he had in a very long time.
“I am fine.”
~ ~ ~
Kat ran a diagnost
ic gaze over T’Hargen. Anxiety curdled in her stomach, along with guilt and shame. Her behaviour had been unforgiveable and unprofessional. Again. What had she been thinking? Needling him when his swollen cranial ridges indicated a depth of anger she should not have taunted. Yet she hadn’t been able to contain the urge to push him.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have provoked you. That was wrong of me.”
T’Hargen’s steady, untroubled gaze reassured her of his well-being.
“Why? Because I’m a basket case already?”
“No! You’re not—”
He grinned at her, and she suddenly found herself facing a wickedly handsome, mischievous male. Her heart beat a little faster.
Did the ground just tilt?
He lifted a hand and tucked her hair behind her ear, then ran his fingertips down to the lobe. Tingles sparked in their wake, sensitising her flesh.
No, no, no. I am not going there.
“I, um, I”—she shook her head—“I— Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Perfectly.”
“Good. Good.” Hell, what had she been going to say? Something about encryption.
Oh yeah! “TL can’t unlock the computer himself, but he can tell you how.”
T’Hargen stared down at her, his radiant grin fading to the hint of a smile. Lord, she wanted to plant her lips on his, feel their full firmness, feel him respond to her caress, feel his—
Kathryn Holden, GET A GRIP! You know very well that the last thing you need in your life is a man like T’Hargen Mhartak. If you can manage no-strings-attached sex, if that’s even what he’s offering, then fine, go for it, but you know that’s not you.
A hum vibrated down her ear. She swivelled her gaze to TL hovering at her shoulder and, yes, definitely eyeballing T’Hargen.