Tina (Clans of Europa) - Tracy St. John Page 0,11

usual impervious mask. He passed several Nobeks in the building’s halls, and more outside as he carried Tina between the identical rectangular buildings of the colony. He ignored the stunned looks he and his clan received, refusing to falter despite how his men’s countenances darkened with fierce concern for the thrashing, squalling girl in his arms.

“Help me! Somebody, help!”

Though Osopa was fourth in the spyship’s chain of command, he imagined more than one warrior might have challenged him had Tukui and Yorso not been trotting at his side, desperately calling over her cries in an effort to calm her.

“Tina, please. We won’t hurt you. I swear it.”

“It’s all right, lovely girl. We’re here to take care of you.”

Their voices rose, sounding as desperate as hers. Tina flailed with unabated terror. She couldn’t punch Osopa again, but she tried to claw through his formsuit to tear at his chest. Between shrieks her teeth snapped at his jaw, millimeters from taking a bite out of him.

He admired her boldness and hated her fear of him.

As Osopa turned on the smooth stone pathway, hurrying faster to get where he was going, Tukui gasped, “Osopa, the shuttle pad’s the other direction.”

“She’ll have personal belongings to gather. Maybe that’ll calm her down.”

He breathed a sigh of relief when they gained the barracks where he’d first seen Tina. Did she remember it was him who’d grabbed her in her sleeping room? Was that adding to her horror of him?

“Do you know which room is hers?”

Instead of answering, Osopa plowed ahead with Tina still screaming, his ears ringing until he was sure they’d never recover. Fewer of his underlings were in the corridor, and they didn’t act as shocked as those outside had been.

There were other cries, other women’s voices raised in supplication. At first, Osopa thought perhaps the remaining four clans had brought in their unwilling Mataras too, then he remembered: Dr. Degorsk had set up a sexual re-education area in the infirmary. No wonder the security forces in this building weren’t reacting badly to Tina’s hysterics.

Yorso’s face worked as he caught the sounds as well. “They’re all hysterical. This is a nightmare. We shouldn’t be here.”

“We’re almost to her quarters,” Osopa muttered. He felt as if he was damned near running, but the door he aimed for wasn’t getting any closer.

Yorso was right. It was a nightmare.

A lanky man with a waist-length braid appeared at the end of the hall, coming from the infirmary. Usually, Osopa was desperate to avoid Dr. Degorsk and his penchant for bad jokes. With Tina bawling and howling for rescue, the appearance of the head medic made his knees wobble with relief.

“Dr. Degorsk!”

“Oh, thank the ancestors.” Yorso sounded as if he were sobbing.

Degorsk waved, his usually happy visage turning to a thundercloud as he hurried their way. It was often easy to forget the Imdiko’s temper was as bad as his jokes. As soon as he reached them, he tried to turn Tina so he could look at her. She screamed and attempted to bite his fingers.

“I hate seeing them this upset,” he muttered so low that Osopa had to strain to hear him. Degorsk raised his voice. “Good set of lungs on this one. Definitely healthy respiratory system. You chose well, along with loud, Clan Tukui.”

Osopa’s cheeks felt stiff as he smiled weakly at the joke.

Tukui was flushed, whether with frustration or panic, Osopa couldn’t say. “This isn’t normal. Is it?”

“For a woman whose life on Earth is forfeit for being carted off and ravished by men? Quite normal, I’m afraid.”

“When will she stop?” Osopa shouted over Tina’s shrieks.

“Good question. When you find out, let me know.” Degorsk gentled, leaning close to speak in English in Tina’s ear. “I understand, little Matara. This is terrifying.”

For a wonder, she settled into quiet sobs, her face hot against Osopa’s chest. She sagged, no doubt exhausted from her violent exertions. His gut shriveled at her crying.

“There must be something we can do.” Osopa heard the waver in his own voice, his iron control slipping.

Degorsk rubbed his forehead, his expression weary. “We’re conquerors. They’re the conquered. It’s going to be rough for a bit.”

“You don’t have any suggestions?” Yorso begged.

“Kalquor’s psychiatric board recommends doing exactly what she’s most afraid of. Get it over with. Stop letting her fear of it terrorize her.”

Tukui blinked. “You mean—”

“Make love to your new Matara as soon as possible. Show her the joys of intimate contact. Get her past the idea of damnation.”

“But—but—look at her. Maybe she’s not

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