Enigma - Michael Jan Friedman [41]
He had no way to confirm it, no way to put his mind completely at ease. But if he had to decipher what was happening in his brain, this was the answer he felt most comfortable with.
And Ulelo needed an answer of some sort, needed it even more than food and water. Because without it, he was afraid he would go insane.
Nikolas was stretched out on his bed in the quarters he shared with his friend Locklear, going over everything he had to do the next day, when he heard the harsh buzz that told him someone was waiting outside his door.
If he were still on the Stargazer, he could have admitted whoever it was with a simple voice command. But as he was reminded a hundred times a day, he wasn’t on the Stargazer any longer.
Swinging his legs out of bed, Nikolas got up and went to the door, then pressed a black pad set into the bulkhead. A moment later, the duranium panel hissed open, revealing his caller.
It was Redonna, the ship’s primary pilot—a black and white striped Dedderac with large, dark eyes and a spare if well-muscled frame. Nikolas hadn’t had occasion to speak with her previously, other than to ask her to pass a condiment in the mess hall. He wondered what she had come to tell him.
“Well?” said Redonna.
Nikolas looked at her. “What?”
“Aren’t you going to invite me in?”
“Sure,” he said.
Obviously, what she had to tell him was going to take longer than she cared to stand in the corridor. Moving aside, Nikolas let her into the room.
There weren’t any chairs because there wasn’t enough space for them. As a result, Redonna took a seat on the corner of the human’s bed, propping her leg up and lying back against the bulkhead.
“What can I do for you?” he asked.
The pilot regarded him. Then she said, in a voice huskier than those of most Dedderac, “You don’t seem very concerned about the danger we’re in.”
He had to smile at the unexpected nature of the remark. “Is that how it looks?”
“Most everyone in the crew is walking around with a weight on his neck. But not you. Why is that?”
Nikolas shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I don’t see the point of worrying about it.”
Redonna nodded. “That’s pretty much the way I look at it. But I grew up smuggling disruptor rifles, so I’m used to sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong.”
Her nostrils flared, a sign of amusement in a Dedderac. Obviously, she hadn’t entirely hated the smuggling life.
“But you weren’t a smuggler,” she noted. “I’d know if you were. So why doesn’t it bother you that we’re taking a chance?”
It was because Nikolas had served in Starfleet, where exposure to danger was practically an everyday occurrence. But he didn’t tell Redonna that.
Captain Rejjerin knew where he came from, and so did Locklear. But no one else, and he wanted to keep it that way. Otherwise, he would have to get into an explanation as to why he had left the fleet, and that was the last thing he wanted.
Redonna tilted her head. “Hiding something, are we? I wonder what it could be.” She looked him up and down. Suddenly, something seemed to come to her. “Rings of Tultarri…why didn’t I see it from the beginning? You were a uniform, weren’t you?”
He frowned. “I don’t—”
“You worked for Starfleet,” said the pilot, making it sound like something dirty. “Admit it.”
Nikolas didn’t answer. He just kept frowning, stalling until he could think of something.
“Don’t worry,” said Redonna, “I won’t give away your little secret.” Her nostrils flared again, even wider this time. “I’ve got a secret too, you know.”
“Oh?” said Nikolas, his curiosity aroused.
“Yes. You see, I’ve been monitoring your schedule and Locklear’s for some time now, waiting for a moment when I could catch you alone in here.”
Nikolas’s heart started to beat a little harder. Was Redonna doing what he thought she was doing?
She put her hand to the front of her throat and caressed it with her fingertips. Then she dropped them a little lower and unfastened the topmost snap of her tunic, exposing a prominence analogous to a human collarbone and a little more of her perfect,