“Come.” The command was sharp, the voice deep.
The guard in front of her opened the door. Although windowless, the room was bathed in light from a skylight piercing the rock ceiling in the center.
Beneath it, with the sun’s rays illuminating him like a saint in a medieval portrait, sat a pudgy little man with a swarthy complexion and a beaked nose. Dressed in a deep crimson robe that stood out sharply against the blue walls, he sat at a wooden table covered with books and ledgers. The fringe of black hair around his balding head made him look even more like a holy scribe.
The man stood up and walked toward her. His eyes were so dark they were nearly black, staring intently at her from under bushy brows. AJ stared back, sending out a telepathic wave of control. The man gave her a cold smile, and she felt the wave crash and break as it touched his mind. Somehow, General Tok had created an instinctive defense against the tactics she’d been trained in for years. For the first time, AJ felt a tiny shiver of fear.
He moved closer, motioning the two soldiers to stand back so he could walk all the way around her. She stood a head taller, but that didn’t seem to intimidate the general. She must look odd to him. Her eyes were a soft bronze color, nearly golden, set in a slim face with high cheekbones. Her body was slender, without the lush curves she’d heard the men of Neodyma preferred. Although he would scarcely be able to tell what her body looked like underneath the loose-fitting men’s robe she wore.
“You have come here uninvited. We deal harshly with intruders in our home.”
She kept her voice deliberately soft and low. “I have heard this is a place where women are welcomed, even revered as goddesses. I come seeking a better life.”
The general stopped in front of her, locking his eyes onto hers. She shivered as she experienced the full force of his gaze. It was almost hypnotic. Had she not been schooled in the art of mental combat, she would have succumbed to his power. AJ realized why reports described Tok as charismatic. It wasn’t his physical presence, but rather the aura of complete authority he radiated.
“We do not accept willful, rogue females who deceive us to sneak in. Only women who have gone through a rigorous process of testing and interviews in the cities where they dwell are welcome. If they pass, they are escorted here as converts and trained in our ways. The most worthy are anointed as goddesses in Petra.”
He looked her over coolly. “You are not from our world.”
Being accepted as a convert into the community offered her the best chance of finding the information the Federation sought. The idea of claiming she was a reporter seeking a story about the wonderful opportunities for women in Petra would never work. This man was not eager for publicity, unlike many other self-appointed rulers throughout history.
She lowered her gaze as she’d seen the women do in the marketplace and patterned her speech after his formal tone. “That is correct. My parents came here with me from Earth when I was a child. My father and mother were assigned to Alexandria to work in the Interstellar Consulate there. They succumbed to one of your planet’s illnesses, one we no longer have immunity to on Earth. I also fell ill, but I survived and was taken in by a local family. They raised me as their own. Sadly, they too are now dead.”
Acting purely on instinct, she dropped to one knee, holding out her bound hands in front of her. Anything she could do to project an air of humility, of powerlessness, would go a long way toward erasing the mistake she’d made by mentally challenging his authority in those first few moments. She didn’t know if he was capable of probing her thoughts, so she did her best to create an aura of fear and anxiety in her mind.
“I have nothing, no one to care about me, neither here on Neodyma or back on Earth. I knew that being foreign-born I would never pass the screening process back in Alexandria, so I took the risk of coming here in the hope that you would make an exception once I had the opportunity to present myself before you. I ask that you forgive my feeble attempt at deception and humbly request you take me in. I am willing to learn your ways, to undergo any tests to prove my worthiness.”
He reached out a hand, surprisingly gentle, and touched the wound on her forehead. “By what name are you called?”
“At birth, I was given the name of Amanda Jane Norris. I am known as AJ.”
Tok nodded once, as though making up his mind. “The moment you set foot inside the city, your fate was sealed. I will allow you to be tested. If you pass and are accepted as a convert, you will be given a new name, one befitting the position assigned to you in our society. If not, you will remain nameless and be assigned to other duties here. Either way, you will never leave Petra. Alive.
“Take her to the examination room,” he ordered. “See to her injury and then prepare her for the high priest. I will join you there shortly.”
The two soldiers hauled her to her feet and led her down a series of long corridors deep into the heart of the mountain. They ushered her into another windowless chamber carved out of the blue crystal.
An involuntary shiver rocked her. With no source of natural light, the sensation of being inside an ice cavern was overwhelming. The extremes of heat and cold on Neodyma were still foreign to her. On Earth, she’d spent her time in climate-controlled environments where the temperature never varied more than ten degrees.
The space was bare, except for a square wooden table sitting in the middle of the room. They dragged her over to it and forced her onto her back, one of them holding her shoulders down, and the other pressing her lower body against the rough surface. With the table barely long enough to support her from head to hips, her legs dangled over the edge.
The soldiers made no attempt to draw up the torn edges of the djellaba, and her left breast was almost completely exposed. AJ shivered again when she caught one of the soldiers staring at her nipple, tightened into a peak from the unaccustomed chill in the air.
She took stock of her surroundings. Torches lit the room, mounted far too high on the walls for her to reach. She saw nothing she could use as a weapon, no means of escape except for a door at each end of the room. AJ used her power to project an order to release her into the minds of the two soldiers.
It was as though she’d hit a blank wall. They seemed to have no advanced telepathic skills, no ability to receive or respond to the commands she projected. AJ was stunned. Was it possible these descendants of a more primitive culture had never developed the ability to access their psychic powers? If so, all her years of training in the art of mental combat would be worthless in this world.
One of the men disappeared through the other door. He came back carrying a clay bowl and pitcher. Pouring some water into the bowl, he dipped a soft sponge into it and dabbed away the dried blood on her forehead. Then he ran the damp sponge over her face and neck.
The warm water felt heavenly. It was scented with mint and lavender and some other herb she couldn’t identify that soothed the pain in her head. Despite her precarious situation, AJ sighed in relief.
Relief was replaced with revulsion when the man dipped the sponge back in the water and then held it over her exposed breast. Water dripped onto her erect nipple. The man bent his head toward it. But before he could do anything else, General Tok entered the room. He walked toward her, calling out to someone behind him.
A huge man stepped through the doorway. An involuntary shiver of fear shot through her. The newcomer stood roughly seven-feet tall, towering over Tok and the soldiers. He wore laced-up sandals and a white tunic like her guards. But his was only half a garment, covering him from waist to just above the knees. His upper body was bare, displaying a massive chest rippling with muscle and thick forearms ringed with wide gold bands. His obsidian skin gleamed as though it had been massaged with oil, as did his shaven head.
The soldiers bowed, addressing him as Holy One. He strode to the table and uttered a single command in a language AJ had never heard before. The soldier at her feet nodded briskly and moved to the head of the table, where he took hold of one of her arms, leaving his partner to grasp the other. Her wrists were unbound then tied up again, this time to hooks on the sides of the wide table, stretching her arms apart. The men took their places on either side of her head, each with a heavy hand on one of her shoulders.
The man they called Holy One stepped to the foot of the table. He stuck his huge hands under her djellaba. AJ cringed as she felt his palms sliding up her legs. He pushed the garment higher, uncovering her thighs then her hips, until she was completely exposed from the waist down. Her pulse raced, but she forced herself to breathe slowly and deeply, keeping her mind blank.