clinic that will do more than gene clean for diseases, but maybe somewhere out on the rim, you could find someone to make a nice little army of super soldiers, assuming you have enough money.”
“If their leaders had so much money, why didn’t they give their soldiers better clothes?”
Tamryn squeezed Powell’s good shoulder, relieved he was keeping his spirits up. “I—”
A soft beep came from the table full of weapons and gears. And tablets.
Tamryn winced, afraid that was her tablet. And that Captain Porter was trying to contact her again. She couldn’t think of anyone else who wasn’t in this room who might try to contact her.
Any hope she might have had of the guards not hearing the sound was quashed when Zar walked to the table and picked up her tablet. Maybe he wouldn’t know for sure whose it was. That was a short-lived hope, because he walked straight to her with the compact device in hand.
“Care to answer it?” His tone was dry, but his eyes were sharp. Yeah, he also realized that the call could only be coming from someone on the station who wasn’t in this room. They were too far out for real-time calls from any other planets or stations.
“Nah,” Tamryn said. “I’m sure it’s just my manicurist letting me know I’m late for my appointment. Thanks to your inconsiderate raid, I’ll have to pay a cancellation fee.”
Zar frowned and opened the tablet. It had stopped beeping, but he would want to know who had commed and from where.
“How can you joke with them?” a gray-haired woman asked from her spot slumping against the wall. A bruise had nearly swallowed her right eye.
Tamryn didn’t know her name or the names of most of the civilians yet, but her hackles rose at the idea of being condemned by anyone who was supposed to be on her side. “Trust me—I’m not joking, and there’s no amusement in my heart. Responding with sarcasm is just my natural instinct. And yes, sometimes that gets me in trouble.” She glanced warily at Zar.
He was fumbling with the tablet, probably figuring out that it would take her thumb on the controls to bring up any messages.
The scientist shook her head and looked away.
“That why you got stuck out here?” Powell said, far more sympathy in his eyes. Soldiers understood sarcasm perfectly well.
Tamryn shrugged and gave him a vague smile. When the other soldiers learned about her family connections, they always thought she was here as a punishment or because someone wanted to teach her a lesson. She had stopped admitting she had requested the station, because everyone had thought her nuts. Maybe they were right.
“Open it.” Zar held the tablet down to her.
“No, thank you.”
His eyes narrowed.
“You want the information, you figure out how to get it.” From the way he had been fumbling with the tablet, she already suspected he wasn’t that familiar with the device, which was strange, since two out of three people in the system had something very similar.
A hand grabbed the back of Tamryn’s collar, and she was yanked to her feet before she could think to resist or duck or anything. The medical injector lay on the floor between the two soldiers. She cursed to herself. Why hadn’t she thought to palm it? With these men’s reflexes, she couldn’t have counted on stabbing them with the sedatives, but she might never have gotten a better chance to try. The third guard was still by the door, but if she could have taken out two, maybe—
The hand grabbing her collar shifted to her neck. “Zar, you want information from a prisoner, you take it. We aren’t here to make friends.” The hand tightened. It was the guard with the roaming eyes. He leaned close, his chest pressing against her back. “Open the computer, girl,” he growled into her ear, “and tell us who’s trying to contact you.”
Zar shifted uneasily. “Rebek, the hunt leader said not to hurt her, that we still need her to use the comm system.”
“She can do that