Tamed By the Alien Pirate by Celia Kyle Page 0,21
lights flicker, and I decide it can’t hurt to bring it up.
“Looks like this place has seen better days.”
“Indeed.” He chuckles and gestures at the flickering lights. “Our work here is time critical, so we’ve had to go ahead and start before maintenance is finished. I promise you in a few weeks’ time it won’t even be an issue.”
Well, that’s a loaded statement if I ever heard one. Combover Bruce takes me to an office at the end of the hall and pushes the door open.
“You can get started on your paperwork, and then I’ll be back in twenty minutes or so to start your orientation.” Like many Terrans, he uses the term “paperwork” in a non-literal fashion, and hands me a tablet with a form to complete on its screen. I thank him and enter the room. Then my jaw falls open.
“Zander? What the hell are you doing here?”
Zander winces and glances at the empty doorway.
“Shh.” He puts a finger to his lips. “It’s Rednaz at the moment. Don’t blow my cover.”
I put two and two together. That rat. He didn’t think I could take care of myself so he’s tagging along. While I resent the implications, I can’t help also feeling a little flattered.
And a little relieved, if I’m being honest with myself.
“Rednaz…” I roll my eyes to the ceiling. “Really? Using your name spelled backward? How very Count Dracula of you.”
“Count who? I’m no Vasper human fetishist, if that’s what you’re implying.”
“Oh for heaven’s sake, Zander. Give it a rest. Will you? I’m just kidding. I’m actually glad you’re here.”
“You are?” He relaxes visibly. “Oh, well. Good.”
For a moment awkward silence reigns. I study the tablet in my hands and start filling it out. He pretends like he’s not looking at me out of the corner of his eye while making as if he’s looking at his own tablet. When I can’t take the scrutiny any longer I set my tablet down and face him.
“Zander… about what happened in the armory…”
“Yes?” He licks his lips and sets his own tablet down. “What about it?”
I find that I can’t speak, my mouth suddenly dry and a nervous sweat breaking out on my body. Damn him, how can he have such an effect on me? Mind over matter, Thrase. You’ve got this.
“What about it? I think you know what I’m getting at.” I can’t quite look him in the eye. My cheeks are burning. God, I must be red as a Vakutan’s scales at the moment.
“You mean…” Zander swallows hard. “When we almost… almost…”
The door bangs open and we both turn angry glares on Bruce as he enters.
“Hey there, newbies, finished with that paperwork yet… is something the matter?”
“No.” I say stiffly, standing up and handing him my completed tablet. “Everything’s just fine.”
Bruce frowns, but doesn’t press the issue. We’re taken back down the hall, through the office suite and past the men gathered around the table. Once again they shut off the display as I pass. Now I’m really dying to know what’s on that holodisplay…
Dying. Great choice of words, Thrase, given the circumstances. I notice Zander is the only non-human I’ve yet seen in this entire complex. I guess that Project Blue Dawn must not have many applicants given their stringent contract clauses. Or they’re on to him already and are just laying a trap.
Bruce takes us to a small chamber with a recently installed heavy metal door leading to another room in it. The small glass panel in the heavy door is frosted over, so I can’t see inside. A rack with winter coats hanging on it adorns the left side, and Bruce takes one of them down and dons it.
“Sorry, but we have to keep the temperature low in this chamber.”
I put on my coat with ease, but Zander has a difficult time given his broad shoulders. When he finally puts it on, it rips down the back seam.
“That’s coming out of your paycheck.” He pulls the door open with a grunt of effort and ushers us through.
Zander and I gape because what we see are about twenty cryopods with female occupants all in stasis. Just glancing at their biometric panels gives me chills that have nothing to do with the cold. They’ve pumped up these women with a cocktail of dangerous drugs, most of which haven’t even been approved for use in much of the galaxy.
Even worse, many of them have shaven heads and stitched scars that seem to indicate neurosurgery. No wonder we