Page 83 of Star-Crossed Captive
Her eyes blurred. A third of her colleagues? Almost a thousand people would have died or been taken. Did Ezra make it?
“I’m Major General Forna,” he continued, “also the administrator of this vessel.”
Swallowing the tears choking her, Nia gave him a nod of respect, acknowledging his position. She recognized the last name. The Forna family were benefactors of the Lunar Medical Academy.
He glanced at his PALM, and Nia blinked. A strange disconnect filled her at seeing one.
“I’m here with Slattery,” he said tilting his head to the side. “He’s a specialist. Do you know what that is?”
Nia’s heart raced, her mouth going dry as she stared at the other man. She’d never met a specialist but had heard whispers of them when stationed on a medical aid vessel years ago—those who specialized in interrogation.
“I haven’t done anything wrong,” she said, her voice croaky. The skin of her wrists burned as she pulled against the restraints.
“Of course not, no,” Forna said, his voice an affectation of sympathy. It exacerbated her panic. “We’re here to ask you a few questions.” He gave her a thin smile, and Nia stilled her movements.
“Please contact my family.”
His eyes crinkled in some semblance of a smile. “Perhaps, if you do well with these questions. Until then, I’ll only need your cooperation, and this will be all over.” The fake smile dissolved. “I’ve been in contact withElara Five.” Her heart tripped over itself. “And happen to know Calvin Autry well. He’d like you returned to him, but understands procedures, of course.”
What the hell was he talking about? She yanked at her wrists. “Tell my father I’m alive.” That was the only procedure he needed to follow.
“In due time.” Forna glanced at his PALM again, eyes narrowing on her. “Do you know the name of the Tell you arrived with?”
Her heart lurched in her chest. What were they doing to Mace? She shook her head.
“I don’t believe you,” he said in a flat voice.
Nia licked her dry lips. “They only called him Commander or Sir,” she croaked, her throat aching with the need to scream. “I never knew his name.”
Forna’s face hardened, and Nia glanced at the specialist. He hadn’t moved, his gaze frozen on her like some sort of disturbing, life-like statue.
“I don’t think you understand the gravity of your situation,” Forna said, reclaiming her attention. “You’re presumed dead. I could throw you out an airlock, and no one would know the difference. What is the name of the man who had you hostage?”
Nia clenched her jaw and closed her eyes. “I don’t know.”
There was silence around her for a moment, making her heart beat faster. Something touched her forehead, and her eyes flew open. The specialist stood on the other side of her, securing a device to her temple with aclick.
She gasped. When he leaned to do the same to other side, she saw what he held—an odd-shaped cortical node. Nia shrank back, trying to get away, but Forna wrapped a hand around her throat, and pressed her against the table. The second one clicked in place with a pinch. Warmth spread through her forehead and face, then settled into the space where her spine met her brain.
“There.” Forna said the word like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He let go of her throat to sit on a stool. “These nano nodes are the specialist’s pride and joy. They’ve been programmed with one purpose, to infiltrate the brain and impede a person’s ability to lie. As long as the nodes are attached, the nanos can do their work. Mind moles, we like to call them.”
“That’s illegal,” Nia gritted out. The other doctor stood behind him, looking like she wanted to run away.
One corner of his mouth quirking, Forna nodded at the specialist.
For a second, Nia felt weightless, like she floated in a regeneration bath. Pain didn’t exist, and stress didn’t have a definition. She sighed, happy to relax. Her mind drifted to a safe place in her brain, when her parents were still together, laughing as each held a hand and swung her between them. Nia smiled.
“How do you feel?” someone asked, and her eyes snapped open to find Forna leaning over her. She couldn’t remember why she’d felt threatened by him.
“Perfect,” she murmured, wanting to sleep the day away on this beautiful cloud. Then she screamed when the sensation was ripped away from her. She plunged into a vat of ice water, every part of her prickling in pain. Nia gasped for breaths.
“He can add pain to the process or take it away,” she heard someone say from a great distance. The sensation of needles in her skin turned into knives stabbing her everywhere, not a piece of her body untouched. The blades turned molten hot, ripping her apart with every jab.
A lifetime passed before the stabbing stopped. The bulkheads of the lab echoed with residual screams. Sweat beaded her skin, her clothing sticking tight to her body. Rawness coated her throat like someone had taken a laser scalpel to it. She searched for an escape.
Then it struck her that no time had passed at all. She felt ancient, like years of her life had been sucked from her limbs. Her lungs wouldn’t work, couldn’t take a proper breath. But the pain had stopped, and she would do almost anything for it to never happen again.
“What’s your name?” Forna asked, his gaze focused on his PALM.
