His Earth Maiden AE Page 6

  “Jackson, the guys could use your— Oh, sacre—sorry, sorry, I didn’t see anything!” a woman exclaimed in obvious shock. A slap sounded, followed by another. “What’s wrong with the door, it won’t let me out.” The slapping became more frantic. “Why won’t it let me out?”

  Raisa braced herself, too shocked to move.

  “Computer, open door,” the woman ordered. The computer didn’t answer.

  Jackson released Raisa and firmly urged her into the decontaminator before standing in front of the door to block her nudity.

  “Violette, the door is not going to work until the power cycles back around,” Jackson said.

  “So,” Violette drawled. “How’s it going? Anything new with you, Jackson?”

  Jackson didn’t answer.

  Raisa stared at Jackson’s back. She inhaled deeply and held her breath in an attempt to slow her breathing. If this Violette woman hadn’t interrupted them, she would not have stopped what was happening. Even now, she could feel the sting of his kisses and the pleasure of his hands. Her body ached to continue, so much so that she didn’t even feel the pain in her ribs.

  “Who’s your friend?” Violette asked, as if Jackson’s silence didn’t bother her.

  “Raisa,” she answered loudly. Raisa moved her hand around Jackson and blindly waved. “Nice to meet you.”

  Violette laughed, but Raisa felt the woman touch her finger. “And you as well.”

  “Thank you for letting me borrow clothes,” Raisa said, remembering what Jackson had said earlier.

  “How about I turn around so you have a chance to wear them?” Violette offered.

  Jackson stepped aside and crossed to the bed. Raisa slowly followed him. She glanced at Violette. The taller woman stood with her back to them. Her brown hair curled to her shoulders. She wore tight brown pants with a red top that had a triangle pattern cut out over her back. It left her skin around her waist bare. Green markings encircled her waist, as if tattooed into her flesh.

  Jackson handed her a stack of clothes, and she realized she was staring at the woman while standing naked. The black pants fit all right but were a little long at the ankles. The black shirt was adjustable by white cross-laces along the arms and sides.

  As she pulled the strings near her waist to tighten them, she said, “Done.”

  Violette turned. Mischievous green eyes met hers. “Looks good on you. Go ahead and keep them.”

  “Thank you.” Raisa glanced down at herself and then at Jackson, who still didn’t speak.

  “Doesn’t she look good, Jackson?” Violette prompted.

  “Yes.” The answer was short and matter-of-fact.

  “Isn’t he just a charmer?” Violette laughed, only to sarcastically add, “A man of many words.”

  Jackson made a soft, unamused sound.

  “Take it easy,” Violette told Jackson. “I’m only teasing.” Then to Raisa, she said, “Must be a security officer thing. My husband can be a man of few words as well.”

  “What did you need help with?” Jackson asked.

  “What? Oh, yeah.” Violette nodded. “The guys need you to help move a metal grate, so they can get behind the wall. Have you seen the back corridor yet? It’s beginning to look like a warzone. I’m beginning to question if they actually know what they’re doing, or if Viktor and Alexis just guess and hope for the best.”

  Jackson went to the door and tried the hand scanner. It didn’t work.

  “They will send someone when I don’t return. I told them I’d be right back.” Violette moved toward the cage in the middle of the room and wrapped her hand around a metal bar. “This ship is just…” She didn’t finish the thought but shook her head in what looked to be disapproval.

  Raisa watched her walk around to the other side of the cage. She found herself following her. A small living area was set up around the corner. She hadn’t looked at it before. Two black couches with red throw pillows stretched nearly all the way across the alcove. A viewing screen had been mounted in front. Violette sat on one of the low couch backs, before letting herself fall onto the cushions. Her feet hung over the back, kicking lazily.

  “You never think about how much we rely on electricity until you don’t have it,” Raisa said by way of conversation.

  “Especially out here in the deep black,” Violette agreed. “No transmission waves to watch. No VR. One can only listen to Jackson and Dev running around the corridors exercising for so long.”

  “We will have to watch each other for signs of isolation sickness.” Jackson crossed his arms over his chest. It was becoming a familiar stance. “With no distractions, this could be a long ride.”

  “I have a natural knack for fixing mechanical things,” Raisa offered.

  Violette leaned up, letting her feet drop to the couch so she could study Raisa.

  “What do you mean?” Jackson asked.

  “It’s always come easy to me. I just understand mechanical things—engines, personal droids, cleaning droids, generators, appliances, and even electrical systems.” Raisa moved to sit on the couch but didn’t fall onto the cushions like Violette, instead choosing to walk around before taking a seat.

  “Are you…” Violette tilted her head as she studied her. “Angelion?”

  “Half,” Raisa answered. “How did you know that? No one ever guesses.”

  “Gil, the mechanic on a ship I used to captain, was Angelion,” Violette said. “He could tighten bolts without touching them, sense when something wasn’t right behind a wall, and was one of the grumpiest men I’d ever worked with—not that you’re grumpy. He was one of the best mechanics I’ve ever seen.”

  Raisa gave a small nod.

  “My husband is half Bevlon. That’s not going to be a problem for you, is it?” Violette asked. Bevlons and Angelions were ancient enemies.

  “Not at all. I barely knew my father,” Raisa said. “I have no interest in ancient battles.”

  “Glad to hear it.” Violette nodded. “Jackson, you should let her take a look at the ship. Trust me. Alexis and Viktor need all the help they can get.”

  Raisa glanced up at Jackson. “I would like to help. It’s the least I can do.”

  He gave her a small smile and nodded once. “As soon as you feel up to it.”

  “Can you fix the door?” Violette asked.

  “Not if it doesn’t have a power supply.” Raisa couldn’t create electricity, only direct where it flowed.

  “Hey, did you space cadets lock yourselves in?” Rick called from the other room.

  “Rick!” Violette hopped up from the couch. “Don’t let the door shut. It’s broken.”

  “I have to do everything around here,” Rick teased. “Don’t worry, ladies, Rick is here to rescue you.”

  Jackson waited for Raisa to follow Violette before walking behind her. Rick stood in the doorway, his hand pressed to the top of the frame as if he alone kept the door from sliding shut.

  “Oh, I guess I’ll save you too, big guy,” Rick joked.

  Raisa found the man both charming and cocky. He had an easy nature that was welcoming, if not slightly inappropriate, which was great in a social situation. But as a spaceship pilot? She wasn’t sure this guy was serious enough to handle a big piece of equipment.

  He winked at her. “What do you know, there was a pretty lady underneath all that grime.”

  Jackson stood a little bit closer to her. The heat radiating off him only reminded her of what they’d been interrupted doing. “Raisa is going to assist us in repairs.”

  “Good deal.” Rick stepped out into the corridor and pet the metal wall. The door remained open. “My sweet lady needs all the help she can get.”

  9

  Raisa ignored the pain in her side as she pressed between the metal wall and the jumbled mess of wires that seemed to lead nowhere. None of it made logical sense. Some of them looped around, only to head back in the direction from which they came. Others were spliced together in ways she wouldn’t consider safe
. Honestly, it was a wonder the ship had flown as long as it had.

  “Well?” Viktor’s voice called from the opening in the wall. She shone her handheld light toward him but couldn’t make out his face. The hand strap was broken, so she had to grip the rectangular device with her fingers. “See anything?”

  Raisa placed her hands on the wires, trying to feel where the currents flowed. Some were completely dead. She found one that felt hot to the touch and appeared to be pulling more current than it should. “Maybe. I’m going to follow—”

  “No, that’s far enough. Come out,” Jackson called. “It’s not safe. We’re having a hard time seeing you.”

  She gave a small laugh at his order, even as she followed the wire away from the wall opening. “Come in here and make me.”

  “What is it with the female crew we take on always crawling into tight spaces?” Viktor asked, his voice softer than before. “Mei in the ceiling. Alexis in the air vents. Raisa in the walls. Violette, you have any urges to crawl under the floor grates?”

  “Whose Mei?” Raisa called, feeling comforted by the sound of voices. The light she carried didn’t reveal much but dust and wires.

  “The wife of Jackson and Lochlann’s original captain,” Viktor answered. “They live on Qurilixen.”

  “Never heard of it,” Raisa said.

  “They’re a bunch of shifter—hey, watch it,” Viktor made a small sound of irritation.

  “As the ship security officer, I command—” Jackson tried to order.

  She laughed louder, cutting him off. “Take it easy. I know what I’m doing.”

  Raisa hoped she was right. She didn’t feel any immediate danger, but the system was unstable. She inched along the inside of the wall, trying not to scrape her back on the rows of bolts holding the wall panels in place. As she moved, she tapped her fingers to the hot wire to follow where it led.

  “Raisa?” she heard Jackson yell.

  “I’m fine,” she reassured him. His concern was both annoying and sweet—maybe more annoying than sweet. She was a grown woman who had made her way around the high skies and numerous planets just fine. Sure, Torgan wasn’t a prime example of that, but hey, here she was—alive.

  Her light shone over a bracket that had a screw loose. She automatically lifted her hand, willing the screw to tighten. It moved without her having to touch it.

  The wires continued to thread in various directions, some up to the ceiling or into the floor. What in the galaxies was going on in this ship? She followed the hot wire, ducking under cold pipes as she was led deeper into the ship, away from the wall. Bundles of tubes were strung together, possibly for the in-room medics. She came to an area that had a little more space to maneuver in, probably to allow for repairs. She followed the wire until it disappeared into a wall.

  Raisa felt along a bolted seam. Most of them had been welded shut, but for a small access panel near the floor. She flattened her hand and hovered it over the bolts, causing them to slowly unscrew, one by one. Without this gift, she wouldn’t have been able to open the panel. The bolts clanked on the other side of the barrier. When she’d finished, she tried to push the panel. It wouldn’t move. She searched for something to wedge into the sides to pry it out, and in the end had to use her short nails. With considerable effort, she managed to loosen it enough that she could will it out of the wall. She hovered her hands over it and pulled at the metal. It fell in her lap.

  Raisa shone her light into the dark hole, expecting to see more access corridors and wires. Nothing else should be this deep in the ship’s belly.

  As her light hit a smooth white floor, she wasn’t so sure. She glanced at the panel she’d pulled. It was sprayed with a thick white lacquer and had a foreign word painted on it. She assumed to mark it as an access panel.

  She knelt close to the floor and flashed her light, trying to see inside. Metal posts held a platform, so she couldn’t look up. Clutching her light, she cautiously crawled forward. Whatever this dark room was it hummed with power.

  She thought she heard an echo of her name but ignored the shout. Fear crept over her, knotting her stomach with anticipation and dread. Whatever this room was, it didn’t feel like it belonged in this ship.

  The floor was cool to the touch as she made her way inside. She bumped her knee on the access hatch and the light dropped to the floor. At the sound of the crash, lights illuminated the room.

  Raisa pressed her lips tightly together to keep from gasping and held very still. When nothing moved, she slowly made her way from under a table and stood.

  The small room had been painted white with the same plastic lacquer of the panel door. The concave molding between the floor and walls erased any sense of an edge. Aside from the gray metal table, the floor space was empty. Two walls were filled with small, transparent drawers. They looked to be full of vials. A holographic screen descended from the ceiling, but the menu was unreadable. She felt more than heard an air vent pulling air from the room and guessed that was why it lacked the dust that filled the corridors.

  As she walked, the floor vibrated and opened. A padded medical chair rose into the center of the room. The gears made no sound except for a light thunk-thunk when it fitted and latched into place. Clearly made for humanoids, the table had leg and arm extensions and straps.

  Raisa held very still, unsure what to make of the room, only to feel a strong sense that she should not have found it. Seeing a seam that had to be the way out, she reached into the crawlspace and pulled the panel back into place, using small grooves on the white side to hold it. It suctioned and sealed the moment it touched it against the wall. The air vent stopped and silence filled the room.

  Raisa walked cautiously around the chair. She lifted her hand to touch a glass drawer holding the vials. At the contact, a small screen lit up like an inventory of that container.

  “Rinabac, Grarf, Tolofat, Lithemadix.” She read the alien words. Were these medications? Some of the markings on the vials looked vaguely familiar, but she wasn’t a doctor.

  “Computer?” she asked.

  A low tone sounded, as if to signify the mainframe did not recognize her.

  Where in all the Bravon fire balls was she? Who were these people? Why did they have a secret operating room in the middle of their ship?

  The wall opened, and a small orb appeared. It drifted forward. Raisa held up her hand defensively to block lights as the unit scanned her. A hard zap hit the tip of her finger, causing it to bleed as if she’d pricked it on a needle. She stuck the finger in her mouth as the orb retracted the way it came.

  “Message received,” she mumbled, “the grumpy computer doesn’t want to talk.”

  When nothing else happened, she turned back to the inventory screen.

  Raisa lightly pressed her finger to the word Grarf to see if the drawer would open. It was stupid. She realized that the moment she touched it. She glanced back to the wall to make sure the orb didn’t return.

  The vials within the drawer moved and she saw a needle come down and pull liquid out of the vial. She couldn’t see where it went, but she closed her eyes to sense if there were any changes in the electrics or mechanics of the unit. Following a tingling sensation with her Angelion senses, she heard a small hissing noise, and then a series of clicks.

  “What have you done now, Raisa?” she whispered to herself. She looked up to make sure nothing was going to come from the ceiling and inject her like in the captain’s quarters. She had no idea what these vials were—medicines, biological weapons, poisons—or what species they were intended for.

  When the Grarf didn’t appear to do anything, she inched her way toward the door. It was smooth with no handle or hand scanner. As she touched the surface, the door opened to let her pass into a dark hall.

  Realizing she still clutched the light, she shone it into the short passageway before stepping in. The door closed behind her, leaving her in the dark a few seconds before another flat holographic image appeared about an inch away fr
om the far wall. This time it was a floating, floor-length viewing screen of one of the ship’s main corridors. A small button flashed in the corner, only to freeze when Lucien ran past. Once he was gone, the button flashed again.

  As Raisa walked toward the hologram, she detected movement on her left. She jolted in alarm, turning to find a humanoid behind a transparent panel.

  She pulled back in fright and the light slipped from her fingers. She scrambled to pick it up.

  Her hands shaking, Raisa shone her light upward to find a stasis chamber. The soft glow of the holographic image gave little illumination. In the chamber, the humanoid’s blue-tinted skin almost seemed to reflect the blue bedding, until Raisa realized it wasn’t bedding but a shimmering gown covering the woman from neck to calves.

  “Hey, Blue,” Raisa whispered, giving her the only name she could think of in her nervous state. “What are you doing in here?”

  She waited in apprehension as she shone the light on Blue’s face to watch for signs of life. Blue didn’t move. Her dark hair was brushed back behind her. Someone had taken great care in laying her out for hypersleep. Raisa drew the light down over the woman’s shoulder and arm. Peeks of Blue’s dark hair could be seen along her waist. Her hands rested at her sides, the nails long. Her feet were bare, with five elongated toes on each.

  The movement Raisa had seen was an injector retracting from the woman’s arm.

  Oops. Did I do that?

  Raisa shone the light on the woman’s face, watching to see if anything changed after the shot. There were no signs of life. Blue looked frozen in time. The Grarf, if that was what was injected, didn’t appear to have an effect.

  Raisa turned to look at the opposite wall. Instead of a stasis chamber, there was a tank filled with a dark substance. She crept closer, pressing the light to the transparent barrier to try to see what was inside. As she slid it along the tank, she found a skeletal frame floating in the dark liquid.