Page 73 of The Commander

Cara dropped the folded blanket. Keeping her word, she went to his drawers to get the clothing she thought she could wear. She was glad they were going to go to Dalewood together. Brenda must be starving. “Why are we going to Old Kentucky?”

“Because you will be safe there,” he answered crisply.

“Is Brenda going with us?”

“No.”

“It’s not safe for her here. For her baby. I can’t just leave them.” She pulled on the pants she’d found. They weren’t his, but they were still the wrong size.

“You are not them. I am taking you and leaving them.” He stepped around her and went over to the bed. Reaching beneath it, he pulled out a small, briefcase sized box.

Strapping it over his shoulder, he returned to the travel case with the pulse gun, without giving her another glance. Just flipped it closed, picked it up, and lifted it like it weighed as much as a paper box. His forearm hardly flexed.

She worked at the top of the pants, rolling them down, determined to talk to him. He really planned to leave?

“Hey. You aren’t listening to me. I can’t just walk away?”

“You will not walk away. You will be in a transport.” He took the things he held and headed for the front door, leaving her behind.

Damn male. She’d had a foreman like that in Springfield who thought questions were a disease he didn’t want to get near. She rushed to pack, grabbing everything she could. The luxury oftravelingwith everything she needed didn’t escape her notice. After going without, she couldn’t have too much.

Her soft case got too big to close and carry fast, so she made a pile next to it while the alien was still outside. Once that was done, she dressed in the clothes she had set aside and tied up her boots.

When Bastian returned, he had another soft case with him, as if he knew she planned to take everything. He packed the second case for her, transferring some from the first into it. “Outside, Kitten.”

She grabbed the last jar of apple juice sitting on the counter where she’d left it and trailed after him.

A humming truck sat with the engine running, muzzle heads unloading stamped tax crates into the back from a hovering mobile platform. The creatures didn’t look up from their task, but from the way their noses twitched, they knew she was there.

The deep grooved tires were as tall as Cara. Some people called the alien designed cars “rovers.” Other people called them tanks because they could drive over and through anything. It had four wheels, a hood, and doors, so Cara just called it a truck.

Bastian tapped her chin. “Don’t be a codfish.”

She blinked. What was a codfish? She’d heard of catfish. What was he talking about?

“Who is that?” Cara pointed at the shadow outline of a human man in the rear passenger seat.

“He will be my knight,” the alien said as he carried the soft cases past her to load into the back of the truck.

“Your what?”

“Haven’t you ever played chess?” His lips kicked up on one side.

Cara felt her eyebrows climb to her forehead. “When and where would I learn to do that? That’s a game, right? I think I’ve seen it somewhere, and it doesn’t have anything to do with fishing. Can you just give me a straight answer without mixing it all up with old Earth culture? You are as bad as that talking thing in your fancy office.”

His expression flattened as if she’d poked a needle in him and drained all his good humor. “Take that back, Kitten.”

“Take what back, the truth?” She fluttered her hands as if batting back the obvious truth of his speaking habits in his direction. Did he not know he did it, too?

The soft cases in his hands landed with a thump. “Oh Kitten, are you sure you can handle the truth?”

“Are you doing it again? That odd gleam in your nightmare eyes makes me think you are doing it again.” Her fluttering turned to pointing.

“The P.I. is a barnacle of aggravation on my left ass cheek that should be blown up, melted, and de-atomized, erased from this life and the next.”

She would have laughed at the description, but he came around the truck, picked her up, and took her around the other side.

“You are not making any sense.” She kicked her legs, exasperated with him.

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