The Nine Realms of the Uti I: Warrior Prince Read online

  Lauren didn’t want to get out of her life pod in the worse way—even after they’d broken the door off that had sealed her into her safe cocoon.

  Of course she’d been deep down terrified since the plot was conceived and announced in a call for volunteers.

  She supposed she had been more frightened about what they were dealing with, though—the fact that they were looking at a very real possibility of total annihilation—than what they might encounter outside their colony or she wouldn’t have volunteered at all. Or maybe it was the thought that a quick death might await and be more desirable than the slow, painful one everyone was looking at if they couldn’t find a way to stop the invader?

  Or maybe it was only her perspective that had changed?

  When she’d been ‘safe’ behind the walls of Atlantis, the barbarians had seemed less of a threat. But the moment she was faced with reality, the unknown became far scarier than the known enemy she’d been fighting?

  She was certainly not alone, nor any more fearful than anyone else. No one had actually panicked, though, until it was too late to do anything about their situation insofar as handling it themselves or requesting help from home. When the body count had begun to rise, though, and they’d filled the cryo-pods to capacity with the sick and dying they’d hoped they could still save, there had been a very quickly aborted panic. Aborted because the moment they contacted the main command center on Earth, they’d been informed that the disease must be contained. It could not, under any circumstances, be carried to Earth—and everyone on Atlantis was a potential carrier.

  When the only possibility of escape was slammed in their faces, they’d had to get a grip and start trying to figure out what to do to save themselves.

  Central command had unbent sufficiently to send more cryo-pods, but that was no fix. It did cut down on the death rate—or at least postpone it—but they couldn’t be de-podded until a cure was found and it had begun to look like that was beyond them.

  Until a fresh faced lab tech had pointed out that the Uti had survived it and must have immunity to it.

  The problem with that was that they had made every effort to isolate themselves from the natives due mostly to the fact that they were aggressive, violent, barbarian giants—and partly because they had feared exactly what had happened in spite of the lengths they’d gone to to prevent such an eventuality.

  Before the colony ship had ever left Earth, they’d sent probes to collect pathogens for study and also to develop immunizations for the colonists. They’d used them to ‘acclimate’ the colonists during the outward bound journey so that when they arrived they would be healthy and protected from the worst the new world could throw at them.

  At least they’d thought so.

  Regardless, none of them were ready to test the effectiveness of their immunizations and they’d decided, all things considered, that they would simply limit contact with the natives. They certainly needed to trade with them for food and resources. Because as wealthy as the continent was that they’d claimed, it still lacked in some vital resources. But they used the robots that had been sent to build the colony and protect it to handle the trade. Disease would not affect the robots—they could be sterilized and contained—and if one fell afoul of alien temper, it could be repaired.

  That had worked for a handful of years.

  And then, somehow, a deadly alien pathogen had invaded, slipped past all of the safeguards they’d devised. And despite their certainty that they were 97% to 99% acclimated to the planet the natives called Kali, the disease had begun to strike down the colonists one by one, and then by threes, and then more, moving so fast they had a disaster on their hands almost before they were aware of the danger.

  It would have been nice if they could have simply asked for help from the natives, but they’d left themselves in the position of outsiders and eliminated that possibility.

  Not that they really believed anything they might have done would have changed that.

  For all they knew the pathogen had been deliberately introduced because the natives had discovered very quickly that they could not penetrate or bypass the colony security and attack the outsiders.

  They were certainly intelligent enough to figure that out if the disease was one they were familiar with. And, although they had not set out to make enemies, it was clear that the continent they’d chosen as theirs had been occupied by at least a smattering of natives before their arrival. The robots had not been programmed to harm living things—in fact just the opposite—but they had been programmed to guard the colony property and apparently they’d seemed threatening enough that the inhabitants had fled.

  In which case, the former inhabitants might consider them enemies.

  There was no way to know since they’d been gone before their arrival and they had not had time to even attempt to figure out how it had been introduced into their population.

  If they survived, they might eventually learn how the infection had begun, but the focus, now, needed to be on survival.

  With that thought to bolster her courage, Lauren sat up very slowly and looked around.

  There were a fair number of occupants in the cavernous chamber they’d taken her to, but Lauren’s gaze moved to King Rama and stayed there.

  She’d read all of the information that had been gathered about him when she’d learned that she would be sent to him.

  He was staring back at her, hard eyed with suspicion and distrust.

  There was nothing about him that suggested softness in any form lingered within him—or, in fact, had ever existed.

  He’d been only ten when his mother had died from some illness—they suspected the same one they were dealing with. It was said that, despite the fact that women were not allowed to coddle their male children, his had, and he had been crushed by her death. He’d hardly recovered from that loss when an assassin had taken his father’s life, but he’d been strong enough and furious enough to retaliate instantly when his neighbors had decided it was a good time to annex pieces of his realm with their own.

  Maybe that had crushed the last of the ‘softness’ from him?

  She shook the thought.

  It didn’t matter.

  She wasn’t here to try to breach the rock wall of his heart. She’d been sent to find what they needed to fight the monster that was trying to wipe them out.

  Bracing herself, she lifted her hands to remove her helmet, firmly dismissing the fact that it would expose her to any pathogens present. That was like closing the barn door after the cows had gotten out—useless at this point.

  Rama was so stunned when she’d removed the helmet that it unnerved her. She couldn’t decide what to make of it until she’d had time for calm reflection some time later.

  At that point it was just one more thing to frighten her and make her task more difficult.

  Deciding to simply ignore the look on his face, she slowly and carefully disengaged the openings on the suit and peeled away the gauntlets, boot covers, and the suit itself until she was next door to naked—clothed only in her panties and the knit undershirt she’d worn under it—so that they could all see she had no concealed weapons.

  As she watched Rama for any sign of welcome or threat, she saw his Adam’s apple bob up and then down as he swallowed. Then he moved toward her, slowly. Stopping, to her relief, while he was still an arm’s length away, he allowed his gaze to move over her with a thoroughness that unnerved her.

  “You are the Di-ore?”

  His voice sounded rough and his face darkened faintly.

  She nodded a little jerkily. “Yes ….” She hesitated, abruptly finding her mind blank when she needed her wits about her and was infinitely relieved when the word she was searching for popped into her mind. “Sire.”

  He walked around her to study her from every angle.

  She tried to banish the image of someone examining an object they were considering buying. Perhaps that was why, despite her training, she met his gaze evenly
when he faced her again.

  Something flickered in his eyes, but if it was anger at her audacity it didn’t show on his face.

  “By what name are you called?”

  Lauren blinked at him in surprise. It cost her, pierced her caution. “Doc …. Lauren McCall.”

  He tilted his head questioningly, but, to her relief, he didn’t demand to know what she’d almost said or an explanation for it.

  Stupid!

  After a long moment that left her in absolutely no doubt that he’d made a note of her slip, he lifted his head and gestured to someone. Lauren turned to look. Unfortunately, she could see nothing above the heads of the Proushtans that surrounded her. In a few moments, though, a path was cleared and a female who looked to be quite elderly made her way toward them, dropping very low to the floor in a curtsey. “Yes, Sire?”

  “Gather the Di-ore’s possessions and then take Lauren McCall to ….” His hesitation seemed more purposeful than a product of doubt. “My chamber.”

  Lauren’s heart nearly failed her at that. It felt as if it simply stopped in her chest and then commenced again in overtime, hammering against her chest wall and her eardrums so that she felt faint. Shaking it with an effort, she hurried to the pod to collect the gear she’d brought with her.

  The woman, she discovered, had followed her. She grasped the pack Lauren took out. They engaged in a brief tug-of-war and then Lauren let go and reached in for a second pack.

  Rama was studying her with amusement when she’d collected her suit and helmet from the floor. “You plan to stay a while?”

  Lauren blinked at him. She knew it was a reference to the amount of gear she’d brought, but she could scarcely tell him that!

  Unfortunately, although she identified the comment as an opening for flirtation, she couldn’t think of a damned flirtatious response. “Just the … uh … the [septum norting] seven night.”

  Thankfully, he didn’t seem to take that badly.

  He did seem surprised that he’d given her an opportunity to try to fix his interest and she’d ignored it.

  Or at least seemed oblivious.

  She was still kicking herself when she reached the King’s chamber.

  It was huge.

  Like Rama—like all of the Flaxen—well, all of the Uti as far as they’d seen.

  Even the old woman who’d escorted her who was slightly bent with age was larger, taller—not overweight, just big.

  But she thought the king’s chamber was rather larger than the norm anyway.

  There was a fireplace on an inner wall that looked big enough to roast the Kalian equivalent of a horse—which actually looked as different as similar to the horse of Earth but which was their main transportation after their feet.

  When she moved closer to warm herself, she discovered that the fireplace served three rooms though she could see very little of the other two because of the logs burning on the hearth.

  Making it a point not to study the massive bed across from the hearth, she looked around for the—serving woman, she supposed—who’d escorted her to the room and discovered the woman had piled her belongings into a little alcove on the far side of the room and was busy spreading out furs on the floor.

  Making a pallet, Lauren realized with a combination of relief and revulsion.

  As glad as she was to know she wasn’t expected to share Rama’s bed—sharing the room was scary enough!—she damned well wasn’t going to try to sleep on some vermin infested pallet made up of animal skins!

  When the woman had left, she carefully moved her belongings a short distance from the pallet. Opening her bag, she dug around until she’d unearthed a can of disinfectant and moved around the room spraying down all surfaces. Feeling less like she had something crawling on her when she’d finished, she returned the can to the bag and took out her collection kit and a pair of gloves.

  Straightening, she looked around the room thoughtfully.

  That was when she discovered, to her absolute horror, that Rama had followed her up to the room, although how long he’d been standing in the doorway observing, she had no idea.

  She didn’t think he could possibly have been there while she was walking around fumigating the place, but she couldn’t be sure since she hadn’t heard him come in.

  Dismay filled her. It flashed through her mind, belatedly, that she should have tried to bar the door. She jumped guiltily and damned near dropped her collection kit.

  * * * *

  Rama’s mind was frozen in hunt mode until the female of the sky people disappeared from his view. Brain function shifted from his erection to his head the instant he lost sight of her, though, and he blinked, like one awakening from a dream.

  And discovered that his elite warriors were still frozen, mouths agape, staring at the spot where she’d been.

  He’d been mildly disconcerted to discover the catatonic state brought on by lust, but he was highly annoyed to find his men in the same condition. He unleashed his anger on the men. “You! Go and see if the flying thing is still poised to attack. The rest of you—put your dicks back in your trousers and gather up the pieces of this thing. I want it repaired and I want it stowed in the armory.”

  His captain of the guard approached him and bowed. “Sire—if this thing is a weapon of some sort and it explodes ….”

  “We took it apart, Captain. Surely it would have blown then if it was going to?”

  The Captain flushed, bowed, and left.

  The man Rama had sent to check on the flying thing returned looking considerably relieved. “There is no sign of it, Sire.”

  Leaving the men to their task, Rama made his way up the stairs to his suite and entered quietly to see what the female might be up to.

  He had not believed the sky people for a moment when they had made the offer of friendship. They had been here many years—much of his life, arriving not long after he had taken the throne of Proushta—and had not attempted more than a grudging trade from time to time for essentials.

  Not that he held it against them that they seemed to prefer to keep to themselves. That was far better than any other possibility that came to mind—an interest in expanding the territory they had claimed for themselves, for example.

  But the 360 degree change after so much time had passed had instantly aroused his suspicions and he had decided that a wise man would use the story they had cooked up to his advantage and see what he could learn of this potential enemy. He knew that it would very likely be tricky, that he would have to walk a tightrope to learn all that he could and give away as little information as possible and not go out of his way to antagonize them until he had a better understanding of their capabilities.

  The Di-ore woman, Lauren McCall, was merely a serving girl, however ….

  Whom, he discovered, was very busily …. Well, he was not certain what the hell she was doing. She had a container that was producing mist of some kind and she was coating everything in his chamber with the mysterious stuff.

  He could not decide whether to be alarmed or merely offended when he caught a whiff of some very faint, unidentifiable, flowery scent.

  Before he could decide whether he wanted to make an issue of her behavior, though, she returned the vial to her pack and dug out something else.

  Any doubt that she was so completely engrossed in what she was doing that she had not even noticed his arrival vanished when she abruptly made eye contact with him. She stopped as if she had slammed into an invisible wall and jolted so violently all over that she nearly dropped whatever it was she’d taken from her pack.

  His suspicions instantly peaked, and since he had clearly lost any opportunity to observe her to determine what she was up to, he approached her. “What is that? And what is the purpose of it?”

  Lauren gaped at him, struggling to formulate an explanation that he might believe without taking exception, licking dust dry lips while she struggled with it. Fortunately, that action not only diverted him, it produced a possibility. “Toi
letries,” she responded a little hoarsely once she’d managed to dredge up the word in his language.

  Of course, she doubted that it looked anything like anything he was familiar with, but then again he couldn’t possibly know what their containers looked like and that it couldn’t possibly be what she claimed.

  She didn’t think.

  To her dismay, he reached for a vial and lifted it, tilting the completely empty test tube first one way and then another.

  His expression was sardonic when he returned it and so eloquent of disbelief she had to struggle to keep from panicking.

  He stepped away after a moment and shrugged out of his jacket. His padded vest came next. He turned to her as he began to loosen the lacing on his tunic. “I thought I might make use of your services since you will only be here a short time. I need a rub down. I believe I may have pulled a muscle in my groin while hunting yesterday.”

  Chapter Three

  Lauren’s gaze traveled automatically to the groin he’d pointed out, lingered there far longer than it should have—too long to have any hope that it might have gone unnoticed—and then leapt back to his face as she felt her own face heat up with a furious blush.

  He turned away and headed toward the bed before she could meet his gaze.

  She didn’t know whether to be relieved or not.

  Not, she decided when he propped his butt on the edge of his bed and pulled his boots off and then stood away from the mattress and shucked his trousers and undergarment.

  Blinded by the sheer mass of naked flesh, Lauren stood where she was, frozen to the floor, trying to jog her mind into functioning.

  Massage was certainly part of her duties as a Di-ore and she was familiar enough with the task that she should have felt at least relatively comfortable with the idea of performing one for him.

  She could do this, she told herself. There was no reason at all to be so unnerved when he’d neither behaved threateningly nor flirtatiously.

  He had pain.

  It was her job to dispense comfort.

  At least that was her cover story and she damned well needed to maintain that façade to the best of her ability.