Free Mind Guest by Sharon Green Page B

reading ‘Exit’ I’ll get out of your way and take care of my course computer myself.”
    “Without specific coordinate and quadrant data?” he asked very mildly, the dark eyes looking down at me faintly amused. “I’ll bet you can handle a sword at least as well as one of my team girls.”
    “The couple of times I tried, I nearly cut my own foot off,” I said, feeling absolutely no guilt over the lie as I met his gaze. “And as far as coordinates and quadrant data go, I’ll take my chances without them. The same luck that got me here just might get me home again.”
    “That would be more miracle than luck,” he snorted, still looking at me with those piercing eyes. “And don’t you think you owe us more than a brisk ‘thanks!’ and a farewell wave? If not for us you’d be a stiff, blue corpse, riding an airless hulk into eternity.”
    “Very poetic,” I applauded with a nod. “Not to mention graphic. Now, out of pure, soul-deep gratitude, I’m supposed to put my neck on the chopping block with an eager smile? What’s the difference between dying in space and dying on a planet I have no business going near?”
    “The more I talk to you and think about you, the more convinced I become that if anyone can survive, you’re the one,” he said. “It may have taken me awhile to put the whole picture together, but now that I have, you can’t deny it.”
    “How about if I deny your sanity?” I came back, putting my fingers on my hips. “I don’t know what you’re thinking about, and I doubt very much if you do.”
    “I know exactly what I’m talking about,” he chuckled, suddenly moving past me to his blocky chair. He sat, tapped a few keys on his terminal, got half a dozen symbols in answer, then turned all the way back to me. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of the question sooner, but it finally came to me to ask why you were put in a crippled ship and headed into the deep black.”
    He beamed at me with a possessiveness I’d noticed earlier, looking as though he’d made his point and was just waiting for me to acknowledge it. I have often found myself with my head in a noose, but I can honestly say I never helped put it there.
    “You see a big secret in that?” I came back immediately, throwing in a shrug for good measure. “All I see is the caution of a man who knows what’s good for him. My people knew what I was doing and who I was involved with; if they decided to bring Radman in and put him to the Question, he’d have to be able to say that the last time he saw me I was alive and healthy, and was still in that condition as far as he knew. That’s why he made sure I had everything I needed to be comfortable.”
    “Very logical and neat,” Dameron conceded, but his nod and smile showed nothing of concession. The man did it to protect himself. But you did say he was a slaver, didn’t you? Couldn’t he just have added you to his inventory and been able to say the same thing? I can’t imagine his having any trouble selling a woman with your – ah – obvious attributes, and I’m sure your Federation has too many planets for him to be afraid that your people might stumble across you. If he didn’t arrange a set of chains and a private auction for you, there must have been a reason.
    He paused again, still wearing that “gotcha” expression, clearly waiting for me to comment; being compassionate, I saw no reason to disappoint him.
    “Yes?” I prompted, looking faintly interested. “And the reason was?”
    “That he thought you had too good a chance to get yourself out of any arrangement like that,” he growled, suddenly annoyed that I was ignoring the way he was pinning me to the wail. “If an enemy who knew you went to such lengths to be safely rid of you, then you have to be more than just average at what you do. Now go ahead and make your denials.”
    “I have no denials to make,” I shrugged, turning away from his dark-eyed stare to go and reclaim my old