Enigma - Michael Jan Friedman [42]
“You see,” Redonna said, her voice a little more languid now, a little more sinuous, “I’ve had my eye on you since the minute you beamed aboard.”
She leaned forward and grabbed a fistful of his shirt. Then, stronger than she looked, she drew him down to her.
“It gets lonely on a cargo hauler,” Redonna whispered. “But there are ways to relieve the loneliness.”
Suddenly Nikolas felt her mouth on his, her lips soft and warm, her breath redolent of something sharp and fragrant. And part of him was tempted to give in, because he was lonely too.
Then, in his mind’s eye, he saw Gerda Idun—sleeping like a child as the hours approached morning, her golden hair spread like a fan across his pillow. And the idea of being with anyone else became inconceivable to him.
In that moment, he pulled away from Redonna—and saw the surprise in her eyes. But it didn’t stay there long. It was quickly replaced with cold, sharp-edged anger.
“You don’t like me?” she spat.
“It’s not that,” said Nikolas. “It’s—” He felt he had to give her some taste of the truth. “There’s someone else.”
Redonna glared at him for a second. Then her mouth twisted into a sneer. “I hope she’s worth it, Starfleet. You don’t have any idea what you’re missing.”
Then she thrust him away, got up from his bed, and headed for the door. Pounding the pad set into the bulkhead, she waited until the panel slid open. Then, without a look backward, she stalked off into the corridor.
Nikolas sighed. He had left the Stargazer to forget Gerda Idun, to put her behind him with the rest of his past. But even here she continued to dog his steps, to haunt him with the memory of her beauty.
Falling back on his bed, he closed his eyes and wondered if he would ever be free.
Ben Zoma was in the process of dozing off when he heard Horombo call his name. Blinking away sleep, he joined the security officer at the navigation controls.
By then, McAteer was up and about as well. He peered over Horombo’s shoulder as he had peered over so many others.
Ignoring him, the first officer asked, “Got something?”
“I believe I do, sir,” said Horombo.
“Slow to impulse,” said Ben Zoma.
“Impulse,” Paris confirmed.
Suddenly, the stars froze around them. No longer vivid streaks of light, they were simply tiny points now, insistent but static.
However, they hadn’t traveled all this way just to gaze at the neighborhood. Ben Zoma watched Horombo check his monitors for additional data on the supply ship.
“Is it what we came for?” asked the first officer.
“It sure seems like it,” said Horombo.
Ben Zoma smiled. “Distance?”
“Fifty thousand kilometers.”
The first officer was about to ask Horombo to put their objective on a screen. But at that distance, they would be within visual range in a matter of seconds.
“There she is,” said Paris, pointing forward.
Ben Zoma took a peek through the observation port. So did McAteer, getting between Paris and Horombo in the process.
What they saw was daunting, to say the least.
The vessel was colossal, several times the size of the Stargazer and dark gray in color. Its long, angular hull boasted eight small nacelles, their mouths all glowing with a fierce vermilion light.
None of the warships it served were visible. However, the sensors were registering their presence, the nearest one being almost two hundred kilometers up ahead.
“Life signs?” asked McAteer.
“None that I can detect,” said Horombo.
“I think I see a cargo bay,” said Chen. He pointed to a rectangular outline on the drone’s port side.
“I don’t know what else it could be,” said Horombo.
“We can try to get in that way,” said Ben Zoma. “But I’d prefer to find a docking port. Then we’ve got a shot at manual access.”
“I think I found one,” Ramirez announced from an aft station. “And here’s another, on the other side.”
The first officer went back to see what Ramirez was looking at. Sure enough, there was a much smaller outline that suggested a docking facility.
He turned to his pilot. “Mister Paris, you’ll stay with the admiral. The rest of you will—”
“The hell he will,” said