Martin winced as he felt exploring fingers on the back of his head, then she stood on tip-toe to put her lips against his ear.
“The translator pickup isn’t all that sensitive,” she said in a barely audible whisper, “and according to the Keidi physiological data, neither is their hearing. You have a whopping bump growing back there, and you’ve lost some skin. Do you really have a concussion?”
“No,” Martin breathed into her ear, “but act as if I need the doctor, badly.”
“You’re bleeding” she said loudly. “The skin is broken and the way is open for infection by other-species bacteria, and there may be underlying damage to the bone structure. You…” She broke off, turned her head toward the door and yelled, “My life-mate needs medical attention! Please ask the doctor to come at once.”
“Nice,” Martin whispered approvingly. “You’re scaring even me.”
From the other side of the door they could hear soft hissing sounds-the Keidi seemed incapable of breathing quietly-but no other reaction. Martin guessed that the First had left a couple of guards and a translator outside with orders to listen and not speak. No doubt their words would be reported later, but in the meantime the apparent distress of one of the hated Galactics was of complete indifference to them.
Or was it?
“We’ve been left naked, cold, and hi darkness, without external contact or means of measuring elapsed time,” he whispered excitedly. ‘This is classic brainwashing technique designed to reduce our resistance to later…”
“Knowing what is being done to us,” Beth said angrily, “isn’t any great consolation right now. Dammit, my goose bumps have goose bumps.”
“Not so loud,” Martin said warningly. He gave another loud, theatrical groan and went on, “It means that the First wants something from us badly enough to go to all this trouble. He has already hinted as much, so we’re in no immediate danger. There’s a bed just behind you, sit on it so that your feet will be off the cold floor. There was a cabinet against the right wall which might hold blankets.”
He gave her a reassuring squeeze and moved in the remembered direction of the cabinet. His eyes were becoming accustomed to the darkness, but the light from the door grill was still too dim for him to see anything clearly. An outstretched hand touched the cold, rough brickwork of the wall, and then the smooth, metal side of the cabinet.
It had a simple lever handle, and the door opened with a metallic screech of long unused hinges. He felt a thin, vertical cylinder which moved toward him as he touched it. He identified it as a brush handle when the stiff bristles scraped across his face. There was a sudden, metallic clatter and immediately the light came on and a Keidi eye appeared at the grill.
Beth slid off the bed and strode angrily toward the door, where she raised her forearm and placed it across the grill opening. There was the sound of a heavy bolt being drawn and she jumped back quickly as the door slammed open and two Keidi burst in.
One remained in the doorway on guard while the other ran to the cabinet, knocked Martin aside, and began examining the interior. The lower two-thirds contained the bucket, brushes, and cleaning materials Martin had disturbed, and the upper section two blankets and pillows. Then the Keidi moved to a low, boxlike cabinet on the other side of the room, lifted its lid and looked inside before crouching to check under both beds before returning to the door.
One of the translators was suspended from his neck by a thick, woven cord threaded through the unbreakable bracelet. There was no way of retrieving it short of tearing the Keidi’s head off. His speaking horn turned to point at Beth.
Harshly, he said, “You will not obscure the viewing grill again.”
Beth placed clenched fists on her hips and glared at him. She said coldly, “Then you will not look through the viewing grill at me. In common with many other civilized races; my species has a nudity taboo. It is offensive degrading, and intensely embarrassing to have another person, regardless of sex or species, who is not my life-mate looking at my unclothed body. Do you hear and understand that?”
The Keidi continued to regard her for a moment, then he turned to follow the other guard into the corridor. The door was barred again but the lights remained on, and they heard one of them saying, “Females!”
The pillows and blankets raised a cloud of dust when he tossed them onto the bed, making both of them sneeze loudly. A Keidi eye appeared briefly at the grill, no doubt drawn by the strange, new, untranslatable noises, then went away again.
Martin gripped the center of a blanket in both hands and began rubbing the coarse material against the sharp, lower corner of the cabinet’s metal door, covering the occasional squeak of hinges with a loud groan. Within a few minutes he had abraded a hole large enough to take his fingers. The material tore easily, and when the tear was large enough he lifted the blanket and pushed his head through the slit.
The humble poncho of Earth had returned to fashion, Martin thought dryly and began making one for Beth, adding slits for their arms. When the lights went out again they were sitting side by side on the edge of a bed with pillows between their feet and the cold floor.
“I never realized that you felt so strongly about nudity,” he whispered. “Do you feel more comfortable now?”
“I don’t, and I do,” she replied. “But when I saw those blankets I thought that if I made a fuss about needing body coverings, and made them believe that it was a sociocultural imperative rather than a need to stay warm, we might stand a better chance of being allowed to keep them when the First comes back.”
“I wouldn’t have thought of that,” Martin said approvingly. “But you’re still trembling. One bed is big enough for both of us. We can pool our body heat. I’m worried about Keidi bugs.”
“So am I,” she whispered. “The mattress is filthy.”
“I meant bugging devices,” Martin went on. “But the dust in this place was undisturbed and there probably wasn’t enough time to install them, so I’m pretty sure a whispered conversation will not be overheard.
“We need to do a lot of talking,” he went on, “and we might as well be comfortable doing it. And to be on the safe side we can sandwich our heads between the two pillows and further deaden the sound. The Keidi will think that we always sleep that way. For extra warmth I was thinking that we could share one of our ponchos and…”
“I know what you’re thinking,” Beth whispered. “But for that I really do insist on privacy and freedom from other-species Peeping Toms. No. Besides, you have a headache.”
You aren’t joking, Martin thought as they lay on their sides with his body pressed tightly against her back, his free arm around her and their legs drawn up inside the blankets. Gradually they began to feel warm, although Beth still broke into sudden fits of shivering which she said were caused by cold feet.
Martin was not feeling particularly brave himself right then.
Half a mile away, their lander stood, impervious to all external force and unapproachable by anyone but themselves. It represented the simplest means of escape or of summoning assistance, but plainly the First was not going to allow them anywhere near it. And high above Keida, the hypership, which was capable of unleashing forces that their captors could not even dream of in their worst nightmares, orbited in complete ignorance.
“You said that there is a coded message that will bring down big brother,” Martin whispered, “and the guards have one of our watches. They will be suspicious if any attempt is made to shout a message through the grill. But I’ve had a knock on the head, and if I acted delirious and screamed a lot of nonsense words at them, they might not notice when I moved to the grill to shout the real message.”