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Bride of Death Page 2
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She nodded. “Sargent Saloa Winger. I do not understand what is going on. What do you want me for?”
He laughed. “I want you, but I am not a designated breeder. My people need any chance at creating another generation. We are dying, and this world was a frantic attempt to shore up our numbers before we fade into nothing.”
He dusted himself off and offered her his hand. “You will need my escort to travel through the ship, Lady Winger. It is not a safe place for a woman alone. Many of my men dream of elevation to breeder, and they will do whatever it takes for a family of their own.”
She slipped her fingers against his, and his dark hand closed over her digits with firm support. “You will take me to my men?”
“I will, but do not be surprised if their greetings are not warm. Their fate is far different from yours.”
It was the last thing that he said as he escorted her out of her quarters and down into the belly of the ship.
Her men were all in a group barracks, and their number was indeed only thirteen. She stood at the general’s side. “Private Naky. Are you and the rest well?”
The private was staring at her, and he moved toward her with a sneer. “Not as well as you, Sargent. Have you already spread your legs for them? Is that why you are here all soft and perfumed?”
She blinked and looked from face to face. Every man had a look of accusation in his eyes.
“I haven’t done anything. These were the clothes given to me after they cut me out of my armour.”
The men murmured. “Why did they have to cut you out? They just put short-term power cells on us and got us out that way?”
“I don’t know. Ask them.” She was getting angry.
Private Naky stepped toward her. “We can’t. They don’t speak Prothean.”
She felt the general’s hand jerk slightly.
General Hinlior spoke softly. “Some of us have learned your language.”
Private Nazy sneered, “Of course you have. Why have you kept Sargent Winger apart from us?”
“She is a Life Bringer. She will find her destiny elsewhere. You are prisoners of war. Your destiny will be in service to the Anvin people.”
Private Kuri snarled. “Why should she get off easier? She was leading us.”
“She is just as much a prisoner as you are. There is no chance for her to re-join your people. Her duties will serve the Anvin, just as yours will.”
Saloa felt the attack coming. Three of her men rushed her, with the intent to cause serious damage. She couldn’t figure out their motivation, she just started to move.
It wasn’t practice. The fists came at her with the intent to cause harm, and she was trying to stay uninjured.
She bent, twisted, struck upward and broke Kuri’s nose. He stumbled back, spouting blood. She grabbed Losso’s arm with her own and twisted it, jerking upward until it dislocated with a pop.
Stekker grabbed her hair and pulled back, so she waited until their bodies made contact and then slammed her head back hard. He grunted and released her, staggering back, but by the time he straightened, the Anvin guards were in the room and the rest of the Protheans were on the ground.
General Hinlior stroked her head and checked her. “Are you injured?”
“No. Shaken but intact. I think I need to sit down.”
He nodded and led her out of the holding barracks and back up to the higher levels. Her whole body was quivering with tension, but when her stomach suddenly snarled, she realised that part of her problem was lack of food.
The general’s features kicked up in a small smile. “You are a normal being then. I was beginning to wonder.”
“Wonder what?”
“If you needed to eat. You had not mentioned it, and it is customary to gain the upper hand by forcing the prisoner to request food.”
“Well, that worked out very well. I don’t think that food would have crossed my mind. I have never been very good at listening to my body’s signals.”
“You worked quickly when you were attacked.”
“I did. That is one thing I have always been good at, knowing when I am in danger.”
He opened a door, and he escorted her into what seemed to be the officers’ dining room.
Dozens of pairs of eyes turned to look at them, and she blinked rapidly. “Now would be one of those times.”
He straightened and something in his posture made the gazes return to their original positions.
A table was off to one side, and he led her to it. Her stomach snarled again, and she put her hands over it as if that would work. “I request food.”
His smile changed to a grin that confirmed he had some very sharp fangs. “And you shall have it.”
A junior officer came to the table and brought one glass carafe and one metal. Two cups of glass and two of metal were placed on the slick surface.
General Hinlior spoke in a liquid tone, and the junior officer nodded sharply and turned away.
The general filled her cups and his own. “The cold liquid is water and a juice mixed together. The hot is a sweetened stimulant that should help steady your nerves.”
She chuckled. “Sugar, huh?”
“Sweetener.”
“How is it that you speak Prothean?”
He blinked and smiled. “The Death Bringers are not just a defense force. We have jacks built into our skulls that allow us to install information. When our final probe reached you, it recognized your language from our archives. A dozen of us learned it, but the knowledge is scattered throughout the ship.”
“Why not all of you?”
“It was not necessary. We only needed a few in case there were prisoners taken. Your men below have two guards with the knowledge of your language. I did not realise that the language was Protean until your men spoke of it.”
“Why does that matter?”
“Because, my species is dying and yours has a reputation for overpopulating. I think your participation will be in high demand.”
Suddenly, her appetite went flat. She had a very good idea of what that participation would entail.
She cleared her throat. “I don’t know what you are thinking, but my people mate for life. I am not going to be passed around to see which one of your kind can plant something.”
He sat back. “I believe you are mistaken. All of the Life Bringers have a choice in the men they take, but the men they have access to are carefully selected to improve our species.”
She shivered. “It still sounds creepy.”
She didn’t say anything else until the food arrived. “What are Death Bringers and why aren’t you eligible as breeders?”
He had just taken a bite, and he coughed a little. “Is that an invitation?”
She realised how it must have sounded, and she closed her eyes for a moment. “Pretend I didn’t say that last part and answer the first.”
He grinned and answered between precise bites. “The Death Bringers are both the first to land and the last to leave any planet we are on. Each enclave has their own contingent. We are made up of the men who do not pass the first selection rounds as children.”
“Oh. You are tested that early?”
“We are.”
She prodded at the unfamiliar food and then started to eat it one deliberate bite at a time. She managed to swallow, and after the fourth bite, she said. “What happens to the women who aren’t able to bear children?”
“They are trained in service industries and have mates if they choose. Every now and then, they begin to breed and those cases are the saddest. They have no control over their lives from that moment onward. They leave their families, their child is raised by its father and they begin rounds of matings to make up for lost time. Unfortunately, many go mad, and from there on, they are kept in a secure facility and artificially inseminated.”
She blinked. “That is horrible.”
“That is the last resort of a dying species.�
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“Not to be crude, but why doesn’t your species breed via test tube or false wombs?”
“We do, but the offspring of technology has a certain lack of empathy for others of its species. We need to be brought to term by a loving mother. The bonding is imperative.”
“What happens then?”
He blinked. “The child is given to its father and raised until it is four or five. Then, it is tested and enters the appropriate crèche. Education takes over with regular parental visits.”
She rubbed her forehead and continued nibbling through her meal. “How many brothers and sisters do you have?”
He twisted his lips. “Eleven brothers and three sisters. None of my sisters are Life Bringers.”
“Oh. So, no nieces or nephews.”
“On the contrary. Two of my brothers have been successful breeders.”
She blinked. “Oh. Nice.”
“I think so. My bloodline is one of the few that has survived intact for the last twelve generations. We are a proud family, such as we are.”
She smiled at the pride in his tone. “My parents were educators, and I have two sisters, both with children and husbands.”
“Are you proud of them?”
“Yes. I was a disappointment in some respects, but they loved me. I never doubted that. I volunteered to die so that my brother-in-law could be with his family.”
He went quiet.
She sipped at her juice and said, “Every man there was prepared to die. They all gave up their place on an escape shuttle so that someone with a family could see their children grow. Why didn’t you kill us?”
He blinked several times before staring into her eyes. “There was no honour in killing so few. Once the EMP knocked you out and the medics scanned you, I determined that if you matched the initial scans, you would be held in honour on this ship.”
She finished her meal and sipped at the metal cup. The contents were rich and sweet, as promised. Even the smell perked her up.
Saloa asked the question she wanted an answer to. “Why did you cut up my armour?”
“A Life Bringer should never be on the battlefield.”
She snorted. “And yet, I am not even bruised from the earlier fight.”
“You are. The darkening is beginning on your wrists and throat. After the meal, you are going to medical.”
She was going to argue, but her wrist began throbbing as they spoke. “Can your doctors work on a Prothean?”
“We will find out.”
The junior officer took their plates, and they were left with the beverages.
“What do you do for fun on this ship?” She finally blurted it out when her cups were empty but he was still lingering over his.
“We train. We race. We play sports. This is an entire ship of men, so there is no end to the hormonal stupidity we get up to.”
She almost smiled. The guard tower had been similar. “You have entertainment vids?”
He grimaced. “Yes, but they are not something you would be interested in. They are primarily for the release of sexual tension and all the vids are geared toward the masculine sensibilities.”
She wrinkled her nose. She had seen a few porn vids in her day, and they hadn’t appealed to her. Something always seemed to be missing.
“So, I am stuck here.”
“I can have language instruction and history vids sent in. You can learn about my people.”
Saloa looked out the window and wistfully saw the mountains that she had called home. “Can I travel?”
“No. Even after the enclave arrives, you will only be allowed out under escort. You are far too precious to allow to escape.”
She tightened her lips at the reminder that she was still a prisoner.
He set his cup down deliberately. “And I can see that your mood has shifted. We should head to medical and get those bruises checked.”
General Hinlior stood and extended his hand to her. Apparently, it was time to leave.
She put her hand in his and walked beside him with her face blank and her head high. If he wanted to remind her that she was stuck in a situation she had no way out of, he had done it.
The medical officer’s hands were shaking as he examined her.
Hinlior stood in the room with his arms crossed, and when the officer’s hand strayed to a part of her arm that was not injured, he barked harshly at him in whatever language it was that the Anvin spoke.
The physician ran his hands over her bruised skin; a thick gel numbed her and helped the pain of the swelling. He used a scanner to check for damage, and then, he rubbed the gel in. Her hair was a barrier, so she extended her hand, and he put the solution in it. She slid her own fingers up and under her mane to ease the bruising caused by her reverse head-butt.
The physician asked Hinlior a few questions, and the general’s answer made him jerk in surprise. He gave Saloa a respectful look as he took care of the last of her bruises.
General Hinlior extended his hand when the treatment was over. She slapped her hand into his and let him escort her back to her quarters.
If she was a prisoner to an alien race, she was going to start acting like one. Name, rank and ident number.
Two days later, Hinlior came to her quarters. “Time for lunch.”
She stood up and followed him, quiet and solemn. She hadn’t spoken since their first meal together, and she was trying to come up with some sort of escape. The city beyond was almost complete, and if she wanted to hide, she needed to do it before the area was fully populated.
If she could get to the mountains, she knew the trails and tunnels better than any of the men with her. She could get lost in there until she could think of something else.
“Why aren’t you speaking?”
She gave him a blank look.
“I order you to speak.”
She whispered, “What would you like me to say?”
He blinked and leaned back. He had not been expecting her to speak.
“Anything. How was your sleep?”
“Fine.”
He exhaled sharply and instead of the dining room, he grabbed her by the bicep and hauled her into the lift and to the private level for the command officers.
He pulled her down a hall and into a room that bore his particular stamp of neatness and predatory attention. He steered her onto a couch and pulled a chair to block her escape. He sat and stared at her, his deep brown eyes searching hers. “What is it?”
“What is what?”
“Why are you so sullen?”
She couldn’t believe it. “Why! Why!” She stood and pushed at his shoulders, but he seemed to be waiting for it. He pinned her wrists together and slammed her down on his thigh.
She snarled and fought him until she slumped and panted.
“Now, tell me what is wrong, and I will see if I can help.”
“I want to choose my own mate. I mean, I know we can’t have a Prothean bonding, but it would mean so much.”
“What is a Prothean bonding?” He was genuinely curious.
She sniffled and inhaled. “We link minds during the ceremony and our emotions are shared throughout our lives. There is a reason we mate for life. If we don’t, we go mad.”
“Why haven’t you explained this to me before?” He stroked her hair away from her face.
“Would it have mattered?”
“Of course. I would have gotten the details about your tolerance, and I would have contacted the enclave.” He frowned. “Your well-being is a prime concern.”
“What if I can’t breed with more than one male?” She held her breath.
“Are you telling me that you can’t have more than one breeding partner?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know any Protheans that have. If your mate is alive, you can only have children with them.”
He sat back in his chair, taking her with him. His hand was still absently stroking her hair. “I am
unaware of the customs of your people. Are you willing to let the medical officer examine you?”
She blinked. “Will you be there?”
“I will be there.”
Saloa followed her instinct and kissed him, her hands still pinned.
He backed away, stared at her for a moment and then he returned her kiss until his teeth grazed her lip. She gasped, and he pulled back.
They stared at each other, and she could feel her heart pounding in her chest. No man she had ever met made her feel this way, and for it to be a stranger from another world seemed to be just her luck.
She blushed and slumped her shoulders. “Medical then?”
He sighed and held the back of her head in his hand. “Why do I think my life just took a sudden shift?”
Saloa shrugged. “I don’t know, but it is nice not to be the only one in the out-of-control category.”
He chuckled and kissed her again; their connection heated and she trembled. It was her stomach growling that broke his intense exploration of her mouth.
He laughed and stroked her cheek with his thumb, releasing her wrists. “Lunch before medical then.”
She sighed. “I suppose so, though this was just getting interesting.”
He shuddered. “You have no idea.”
“Do you have another name aside from Hinlior?” She boosted herself to her feet and ran her hands down the folds of her dress.
“Althur. My mother named me Althur.” He got to his feet and adjusted his trousers.
“Althur. That was the best moment I have had in months.”
He grinned. “It would be best if you called me Hinlior when we are in front of the men.”
“Of course. Is there a chance that we will be alone again?” Her body was very interested in the answer.
He sighed. “It would be wiser not to.”
Her inner female snarled. She wanted him, and her body was telling her that he was the one. His attitude toward her future in reproduction had driven her irritation. She actually didn’t mind the idea of settling down, but an endless round of strange men was not something any Prothean woman saw in her future.
He extended his hand, and she placed her fingers in his, taking up their standard means of running around the ship.