Enemy Overnight by Robin L. Rotham Read Free Book Online

gentle snuffle of Portia’s snoring. The biologic pad felt gross against the soles of her feet as she strode down the corridor, but it was either go barefoot or wear the Garathani-issue knee-high boots, which were too hot even without her wool socks.
    Stepping into the tranlift, she turned to face the door as it closed behind her. “Command Deck, please.”
    She didn’t feel any movement but assumed the car was going down. When the door slid open, her path was blocked by an all-too-familiar mountain of flesh.
    Wonderful. Maybe she should just space herself now and get it over with.
    “You again,” she said in a bored tone, noting the insignia on his collar. “Shouldn’t you be out grinding up someone’s bones for bread or something, Sub-lieutenant?”
    “ Lieutenant is the proper form of address.”
    She gave him a brittle smile. “I know.”
    Zannen’s flat black eyes raked over her and it was all she could do not to cover her girl parts with her hands. She absolutely hated being without her bra. “What are you doing down here? Copulative candidates aren’t allowed on this level.”
    “I’m not a candidate and you know it,” she said. “Tell Commander Kellen that Jasmine King needs to speak with him at once.”
    “The commander isn’t available. Perhaps you should report to Infirmary Three next week with the rest of the candidates. I understand mate assignments are to resume—”
    “I am not one of the candidates,” she enunciated clearly, “and I do not need to report to Infirmary Three. What I need is to speak to Commander Kellen. Today. Not next week, not tomorrow—today.”
    “As I said, he’s not available.”
    Jasmine ground her teeth in frustration. Maybe she should space him . She’d scoped out a couple of airlocks and knew how they worked. “This is a matter of life and death, Lieutenant.”
    The oaf continued to stare and she fought the urge to fidget. No doubt she looked awful, and not just because the evacuee packages hadn’t included cosmetics. Sleep was even harder to come by on the ship than at the compound, and when she finally did nod off, her wild dreams left her feeling even more exhausted and frantic. She’d dozed for a few minutes yesterday afternoon and dreamed she was running on the Frisco bike trail, basking in her freedom and trembling with the anticipation of hugging her mother again—waking aboard the Heptoral had been such a cruel shock, she’d very nearly burst into tears.
    Just remembering that moment made her eyes and nose prickle, and Jasmine immediately turned away. Screw him. He obviously wasn’t going to lift a finger to help her, and she wasn’t going to stand there and entertain him by bawling like a baby.
    His voice stopped her. “You may proceed to the atrium on Baya Deck. Someone there should be able to help you.”
    She pivoted and stared at him. “Why the change of heart?”
    “You did say it was a matter of life and death.”
    The gleam in his eye and the smug curve of his lips belied his neutral tone, but at this point she had little choice but to go where the brute sent her.
    “Baya Deck—isn’t access to that level restricted?”
    “I’ll authorize you.”
    “How do I get to the atrium?”
    “Step back.”
    When she did, a three-dimensional schematic of the Heptoral appeared in the air between them. He pointed to the jagged red line marking her route. “Go left from the command center to tranlift three and take it up two levels to Baya Deck. From there, go right to the second intersection and make another right. The atrium is at the end of the corridor.”
    She opened her mouth to issue grudging thanks, but another red line appeared on the schematic, branching away from the first.
    “Mine is the third door on the left in the opposite corridor, if you don’t find what you need in the atrium,” he said, his tone dripping with suggestion.
    “Not if you were the last male in the galaxy,” she replied with a mocking look. Probably not