“Understood.” My body courses with energy.
“Bayla’s children are still enslaved somewhere in the universe,” Dr. Daneth says. “My hope is those records reveal their location, or at least their barcodes so I might seek their location through other data channels.”
Master Seke speaks. “If you can upload these records, we will then have the locations of each child, and can determine whether and when to undertake a rescue mission for each.”
“We can do it,” I promise.
“You are the only warship ready in the vicinity. Even the hour it would take to prepare a second is time wasted.”
“Dr. Daneth, tell your mate we will get those records.”
Master Seke speaks, “Set course, fastest speed that all life-forms can tolerate on board. We’ll send you the necessary info as you go.”
“It will be done.” I set the new course in the computer. “We will need to prepare a plan of attack. Tarak, are you on this?”
Beside me, Tarak is deep in concentration, his headset beeping and his closed lids flickering as his hands race over his keyboard. I still find it hard to understand how a blind Zandian can be so good at navigation, but he’s developed a unity with the tech that is unparalleled. I trust him 100 percent and have never feared to have him at my side. In fact, he’s one of the best star-techs on Zandia this planet rotation.
“Yes.” He nods. “I’m tuned into the sonar and visual transcription and I’m plotting the best route to avoid asteroids in the Delta belt.”
“Better you than I.” I chuckle, but it’s no joke. “Until Dr. Daneth approves brain implants for all of us, that is.”
He snorts. “Don’t hold your breath. It’s far too dangerous to try the operation on an unhandicapped Zandian. We were lucky it didn’t kill me. Remember I lost all feeling in my legs for a solar cycle and had to do heavy rehab to rebuild the disrupted nerves.” Then his mouth sort of twists before he regains his usual positive expression. I’ve never heard him complain about his lack of sight, but sometimes I wonder if it bothers him. Clearly he’s a great asset to Zandia, disability or no, but he’s never taken a mate. Never even seems to show interest in it. Even if he liked our new human’s voice.
I focus on our task at hand. “Best two routes?”
“We can go around the Delta belt. If we go straight through, and I use my link to avoid asteroids and debris, we’ll get there in half the time.”
“Do it.” I know he can handle it—he guides us through places that even smaller, more nimble ships can’t go. Even our best human navigator, Mirelle—who has some kind of extraordinary gift of concentration that makes her a perfect fit for starship nav—can’t do better than Tarak on his best planet rotations.
“Captain.” He nods and closes his eyes again.
A Zandian crew member enters. “Sir. The human is calling for help. She asks for you.”
“Veck.” I remember that I left her there after I… veck. “Send in someone to give her food and—”
No, wait.
I can’t stand the thought of another Zandian going in there and seeing her. Is her ass still bare? Did I cover her properly? I’m not sure I did. Guilt and something else ricochets through me.
Jealousy.
It’s not an emotion I’m accustomed to feeling. Curse the humans and their strange capacity to awaken the Zandian emotions!
I look at my screen—we’re on course, stable. “Nevermind. I will attend to the human. I will return in a few moments.” I get up and stride out.
I take a breath as I near the door. Stand straighter before I open it.
She’s moaning. When she looks up at me, her eyes are wild, as if she’s seeing something else.
This was how she looked when she stabbed me with her syringe.
“Get away, don’t touch me!” She cries out and shrinks back. “Please.” Her voice catches.
“Leave.” I dismiss the guard. He nods and turns on his heel, and I enter the room, letting the pneumo door hiss shut and click behind me.
“Taisha.” I sit beside her. “You’re hallucinating.”
She doesn’t acknowledge me, and I grab both her wrists, just above the cuffs. Speak into her ear, letting my lips nearly touch her skin. “You. Are. Safe. Breathe.”