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    Chapter Twenty


    Administration Corridor


    Dr. Wessinger’s Office


    Teresa rushes toward the door. Not really expecting it to be unlocked, but trying her luck anyway, Dr. Boyd jiggles the handle. She glances over her shoulder at N-Vorl, who is approaching at a slower gait.


    “Oh well,” Teresa says sarcastically. “Can’t blame a girl for trying.”


    Releasing a deep sigh, Teresa moves in front of the keypad beside the door. She places both hands on her hips and stares down at the numbers on the pad.


    “Damn,” Teresa sighs. “I really wish I hadn’t destroyed Theo’s scalping device. It would have come in handy right about now. Come on, Teresa think.”


    N-Vorl calmly steps forward and pulls Teresa aside. She peers up into his face with surprise.


    “N-Vorl?! What?!” Teresa gasps.


    Taking a page from Teresa’s old book, N-Vorl levels his plasmacaster at the keypad. Teresa reaches forward and grips his left arm.


    “N-Vorl, no!” Teresa exclaims. “Shooting the keypad may trip some kind of security feature. Try using your wrist knives on the locking mechanism. That may work better. If that fails? Then…You have my permission to shoot the keypad.”


    N-Vorl nods and offers Teresa a wide grin. Ejecting his wrist blades, N-Vorl jams the longer of his two blades into the space midway between both doors. He wriggles the blade until there is a satisfying clink. Teresa applies pressure, and both doors slide open and into the wall.


    “I guess they never planned on aliens with superior strength and intelligence jimmying their doors…Now did they?” Teresa exclaims.


    For the first time since their surprise reunion, Teresa seems almost her old self. N-Vorl is certain that if the lights in the hallway were brighter, he would see deep color flooding into the doctor’s cheeks. They are one step closer to finding their son. One step closer to leaving this ooman facility. Then, they will have all the time in the universe to catch up.


    N-Vorl takes a step into the office. He glances back at Teresa and beckons her forward. When she hesitates, he extends his hand. She takes it with a thin smile. He wants so desperately to caress her body and feel her warm hands on him. To hear the sounds of her pleasure. How he wants to gaze upon the face of his only descendant. To hold his son in his strong hands and teach him the ways of his hunter ancestors. But all of this must wait. For now, they must search.


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    Mau-Nis has given up hunting trophies and has switched to kill mode. Every so often, he meets up with a guard or other wandering ooman. The males, he takes down without much thought. The females, he leaves to their own devices. They can perish in their hiding places, when the station blows, for all he cares.


    Finding two oomans mating, Mau-Nis neutralizes the female while taking the life from her lover. Jamming his aerosol spray back into his leg compartment, Mau-Nis considers destroying the entire facility with excessive plasma fire. He imagines the conflagration which would follow.


    However, getting control of his boiling rage, Mau-Nis settles for simply going with the original plan. Every ooman on this station will be utterly incinerated when the final blast rips through the shoddily constructed facility. The few killed before that moment will serve to bring honor to his clan—by adorning the suits of he and his warrior brothers.


    Turning to go back the other direction, Mau-Nis walks a lot straighter. It won’t be long before the others have completed their sweeps of the ooman ship. A memory floats to the front of Mau-Nis’ mind, warming his heart and calming his very soul. Smiling inwardly, Mau-Nis marches with purpose to meet his brethren.


    -


    -Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.


    2 hours later


    “Okay. I think…I’m in,” Teresa exclaims. “That was…A lot more difficult than I thought it would be. But…I’m in. N-Vorl, will you do me a favor? I need you to stand by that far wall. There’s a bioscanner screen over there. The big wigs use them for sussing out possible weapons on their visitors. Big time paranoia. Everyone’s afraid of everyone else in this horrid business.”


    N-Vorl stands where Teresa pointed. He peers at her from across the room, mandibles clicking with agitation.


    “Don’t worry,” Teresa chuckles. “I’m not going to shoot you with anything. I’m feeding your thermal signature into the computer. Like I said, it’s a long shot. But, maybe we can use your signature to hone in on Vor’taalnis. Considering, he doesn’t have a PDT. At least, I don’t think he does. Try not to move, okay?”


    Teresa goes about her task with unmatched dedication. She mutters to herself as she works, guiding herself through the process.


    “Okay. Done,” Teresa says. “You can relax now.”


    N-Vorl leaves his spot by the far wall and approaches the large wooden desk where Teresa sits. He watches as her fingers fly over the keyboard and tap images on the computer’s touchscreen. Suddenly, the screen image changes to a blueprint of the entire facility. Tiny red dots appear throughout, marking every place where an ooman hides or lays dying.


    “Now, PDT’s…They run on the electrical energy of the subject they are implanted in,” Teresa explains. “Or so, I’ve heard. So, every single one of these red dots…Is a living person. I count…One-hundred and thirty-seven. Make that one-hundred and thirty-six. One just blipped out. I’m…Not seeing Wessinger’s biometric ID tag.”


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    Teresa turns to peer at N-Vorl. He blinks slowly and meets her gaze.


    “Do you think she was killed?” Teresa inquires. “When your hunter’s first attacked the station?”


    “Not unless she was in the aft portion of the facility,” N-Vorl says. “In that case, it would be possible. The oomans put up a fight with their inferior warships, but they were no match for even our most meager plasma weapons. If the doctor was there…She is undoubtedly dead.”


    Teresa turns back toward the computer. She bites down on her bottom lip and studies the images on the desktop very closely. Her mind sifts through information--both relevant and immaterial. Where is Vor''taalnis?


    “Somehow, I don’t think so! I think the snake has gone into deep hiding. Not being able to view her biotag may be a security feature. I probably don’t have the right clearance level or something. She is head of research for this entire facility. Not to mention, she’s got her hands in a lot of questionable research. Weyland Industries tends to play things pretty safe. My guess is…She’s holed up somewhere isolated. She’s not going to want to draw extra attention. Probably no more than three or four people in a small group. Her…Plus two to three guards. And Vor’taalnis. These three dots in the observation wing. Those are patients. We don’t need to worry about them. Just the others.”


    When Teresa chances to glance up, N-Vorl is staring almost directly into her face. Teresa’s brow knits and she smirks questioningly.


    “Ever heard of personal space, N-Vorl?” Teresa teases.


    “Not lately,” N-Vorl quips.


    The large hunter''s green orbs shift to Teresa''s lips, and he flexes the clawed fingers of one hand. He itches to run his finger down the length of her spine, to caress the flesh of her throat, to smell the scent of her love--her n''fiis.


    “This…Coming from a guy…Who likes to watch women shower,” Teresa responds, rolling her eyes.


    N-Vorl’s eyes widen and he draws partially back. His mandibles click open and shut as words fail him.


    “I did not…I do not…I…” N-Vorl stammers.


    Teresa chuckles and places a hand on N-Vorl’s forearm. She lowers her voice to a sultry whisper.


    “We have a childling together, N-Vorl,” Teresa says. “We’re a little past the ‘show me yours; if I show you mine stage.’ Don’t you think it’s time to come clean?”


    “I was only performing my duties. I did not intentionally watch as you cleaned yourself,” N-Vorl insists.


    Teresa’s hardened gaze causes N-Vorl to reconsider his stance on the truth. She bites her inner jaw in the way he has come to know means she has either stumbled upon something interesting, or is scheming up another plan.


    “Not at first. Well, maybe the first time…As well as other times,” N-Vorl confesses.


    Teresa grins devilishly and turns up her nose. She forms her mouth into a sarcastic pout and winks energetically.


    “I knew it,” Teresa says. “I was just waiting for you to admit it.”


    N-Vorl’s eyes nearly cross as he looks up at the ceiling. Teresa goes back to her work with the same devilish smile frozen to her lips. N-Vorl leans down and rests his face in the space between Teresa’s neck and shoulder. The smell of her skin is tantalizing, and her hair tickles the flesh of his cheek. Teresa tenses and reaches up a hand to cradle N-Vorl’s face.


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    “You always knew?” N-Vorl questions.


    “Always,” Teresa says. “Now, stop pestering me. I need to work.”


    N-Vorl brushes Teresa’s cheek with his own, eliciting a deep sigh from her throat. He rests his chin on the top of Teresa’s head, among her mess of long black hair, and wraps his arms around her waist. He watches closely as she works her technical magic.


    “I’ve narrowed down the likely places where Dr. Wessinger will be,” Teresa says. “We should tell Mau-Nis and P’taal we have a few leads.”


    “I will tell them,” N-Vorl says placing his mask on his face. “You continue searching for Vor’taalnis.”


    Teresa bristles and turns to face N-Vorl. Her voice rises in pitch and she reaches out a hand to prevent him from walking away.


    “Where are you going?” Teresa gasps.


    “Nowhere,” N-Vorl replies. “You forget. We have mask to mask communication.”


    Teresa chuckles and shakes her head.


    “Oh yeah,” Teresa exclaims. “How could I forget?”