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He’s watching me so closely I can feel his gaze sinking through my consciousness. This is a man more intelligent than any I have ever known. My life depends on that intelligence now. If he gives into paranoia or rage, or anything other than cold logic, I am dead.
By all rights, he should have killed me the moment the shooting began, or as soon as he returned to the ship.
I wonder if he wants to fuck me one more time before he kills me. Then I remember if Shah wanted to fuck me and kill me, he’d just do that. I’m getting mercy for some other reason. I’m not so naïve as to think it is about emotion. He’s never been married. He’s never had a kid. He’s not a man who makes emotional attachments. He’s a man who dominates and prevails. Someone in his inner circle has betrayed him, and everybody on this vessel, all ninety-nine miscreants, outlaws, employees, servants, and unfortunates, know that this is going to come back on them.
“I didn’t betray you, Shah,” I tell him. “But I know that there are others who say it must be me. Whoever did this is using me as a scapegoat. I am the perfect shield for their nefarious actions.”
“Nefarious actions,” he laughs.
I don’t.
I look at him solemnly, knowing what people like him do to people they suspect. This does not likely end well for me.
His big hands rub the outside of mine. “I have to say, Dreamy. You’re not as scared as I thought you would be.”
“I’m terrified, but either you’re going to kill me, or the authorities are going to kill me. There’s no way out of this. At least, not one I see yet.”
I keep feeling a mixture of fear and arousal. He’s a killer. He’ll make no exceptions for me if he thinks for even a second I am guilty. That’s how I know he still doesn’t truly think it was me. I’m breathing, and that means he’s not sure.
“I’m going to have one of the doctors examine you,” he says. “We have to make sure that there’s nothing implanted in you that can act as a transmission device. Drones are often augmented, aren’t they?”
“Yes, but I have never held a role that was rated for augmentation.”
“Are you going to be a good girl for me?”
“Always.”
My answer sounds so submissive and subservient. I suppose it is. It also comes from the simple fact that I have no choice. Shah has me under his control and there is no escaping it. My life is in his hands.
* * *
The doctor is handsome and rakish, though he looks at me with narrowed, suspicious eyes. It is safe to say any of the outlaws who were thinking of giving me the benefit of the doubt have changed their mind. The rumor that I am a spy has spread with a force that makes it so close to the truth it may as well be true. I was an outsider to begin with. Now I am something worse.
“Full scan. We need to ensure she doesn’t have any tracking hardware installed, and if she does have anything installed, I need you to remove it,” Shah tells the doctor.
I sit silently and obediently. I do not know if there is some kind of tracker or transmitter in me. I know if there is, I’m dead. A lot of my thoughts have ended with those two words lately.
“Lie back, please,” the doctor says, pressing me back against the bed. It reclines and I find myself reclined with it, vulnerable to whatever the doctor might decide to do to me. He could take a scalpel and cut me. I don’t think he is going to do that, but he could, and that’s what scares me. I have no allies here. Or anywhere. I have those who are suspicious of me and want me gone, and those who are suspicious of me and want to fuck me.
The doctor runs a tool of some kind over my body, back and forth. It is not a swift process. It is very thorough. He’s not actually touching me, but I feel invaded somehow.
“Roll over, please,” he says.
I do as I am told, finding myself face down on the bed. The scanner is waved over me again. I don’t know if it is telling him something or not. Maybe he’s collecting data from a thousand different implants.
“She’s clean. I’ve never seen anybody with less intervention,” he says.
“She doesn’t even have a birth control implant.”
“She doesn’t have a birth control implant?” Shah sounds shocked.
“No. No protection at all.”
“Fuck.”
“Sit up,” the doctor orders, tapping my rear lightly. “You’re done. Passed with flying colors.”
Shah is looking uncharacteristically pale. He nails me with his dark stare.
