by Lyz Kelley
Her arms tightened around her son as the stubbornness lifted her chin. The determined fire in her eyes gave him a boost of energy.
He picked up the sealed vacuum case and released the back hatch. He waited while the hydraulics lowered the ramp, then stepped forward into the large cargo bay, his eyes adjusting to the bright light.
He only got to the end of the ramp before Commander Stuttgart barked at him to remain where he was.
The short man—with a shorter fuse—maneuvered his way across the ample space with a set of armed security guards following close on his heels. “Protector Myka, what the hell is this?”
The little man’s legs hastened in his direction. His hair, cropped short in the typical military style, didn’t move. There was no need for the short hair, other than for appearances. This figurehead assigned by the Elite to safeguard the ship had never seen battle. An engineer by trade, he was better at fixing rather than protecting things. And his wrinkled face was starting to show his antiquity.
“Your pod, sir.”
“Don’t try to placate me, son.” He stuck the cigar he never lit in his mouth and pointed at Raine and Beck. “Humans. You just signed your death warrant, Protector.”
Myka’s muscles tightened. “Not necessarily.” He set the case down on the floor to free his hands and feet. His senses were on full blast.
The commander tugged his cigar from between his lips. “What did you say, you pile of Dronag dung?”
He fought the urge to squash the ship’s hypocrite like the piece of trash he was, but he’d play nice for now. “According to the Interstellar accord, biohazard waste is prohibited.”
“And the reason you were sent to retrieve the pod. Try telling me something I don’t know.”
“Yet these two humans were impacted by the biohazard spill. According to section ninety-three, paragraph seven, it is our responsibility to offer them medical assistance.”
“Don’t be spouting sections and paragraphs to me, you cocky recruit,” Stuttgart sputtered, knowing full well Myka wasn’t anything close to a recruit. The commander had seen his file.
Myka’s forefathers had established the Protectorate, and were held in high esteem. Another reminder to Stuttgart that Myka’s family association could still lend limited protection.
“You can kiss your transfer goodbye, Myka. And you,” he pointed to the nearest scientist checking equipment. “Incinerate these two. We don’t need the headache.”
You bastard. Myka reached for his weapon when a voice shouted. “Belay that order!”
Chief Scientist Gabrielle Fathoms entered the cargo hold carrying a clipboard under her arm. “Commander, do I need to remind you this is still my ship? Your only job is to offer protection, not that it’s needed.”
Stuttgart’s face turned red. If he wasn’t careful, he would pop a few more blood vessels.
“Gabrielle,” the commander acknowledged with a bit of starch in his tone.
The scientist raised a brow in warning at the informal greeting. “Protector, report,” she brushed past the station commander to address Myka directly.
“The energy pod was broken and leaking when I found it. These two have been directly exposed and need our assistance.”
“There will be no disposal of these two. Take them to the test lab.”
“The testing lab?” Myka turned, “but that—”
“Arrest this man,” the scientist demanded.
Myka yanked his arm out of the nearest guard’s grasp. “On what grounds?”
“Treason. If these humans are infected, you could have compromised this whole ship.”
He glared a warning that if he was touched again, body parts would be broken. He took a step closer to the scientist. “If an infection is your concern, why did my bio-unit not detect any outward contamination?”
Fathoms’s brow hiked up a notch. “Is every person aboard this ship incompetent? I said arrest this man.”
“Myka!” A shrill scream, the kind only a terrified mother could make, echoed through the cargo bay.
He pivoted to see Beck stripped from Raine’s arms by two scientists.
“Unhand my mate,” he bellowed, only to feel pain shoot up his back and through his arms. Every muscle in his torso spasmed, and he went down to his knees. His mind went blank from the pain. His vision blurred. Cold metal clamped around his wrists.
His commander yanked his head up by his hair. “Your mate? I don’t think so.” Myka nearly gagged from the stench of stale tobacco. His head rocked to side as the commander shoved him away in disgust. “No Protector can take a mate. Take him.”
His mind and body, still trying to process the pain, couldn’t fight being hauled to his feet. He blinked to clear his vision. A second later he got a glimpse of Raine. The fear in her eyes sent rage pumping through his veins.
When she had disappeared through the massive metal doorway, he turned to the commander. “You have no right to touch her. She is under my protection.”
The little man laughed.
“You’re a long way from home, son. Besides, I say what happens on this ship, stays on this ship.” He signaled to the two numbnuts standing beside him. “Get him out of my sight.”
Myka yanked on the security cuffs, knowing he’d never get them to budge, but the attempt made him feel better. The past five minutes reminded him of his arrest eighteen months ago for punching another commander for inappropriate behavior toward a female Protectorate novice. What was it with assholes who believe they’re entitled and untouchable?
Myka was marched past the storage bays and into the lift section to take him to the holding cell level.
“You could just lock me in my quarters,” he suggested, hoping the security team would be dumb enough to fall for the suggestion.
“Be quiet and keep moving,” the lead guard barked.
A few minutes later one of the holding cells opened, and he was shoved into the cramped room. Being locked inside the stark room with only a bed, sink, and toilet made him twitchy. The door slid shut. He walked the eight steps in one direction, then back again, letting the silence settle in.
Is this what his life had come to?
He squeezed the back of his neck to get rid of the knots.
The memory of his mother telling him to make her proud came to mind.
He didn’t think this moment was what she had in mind. She had wanted him to focus on his studies and training, yet he never had much patience for either, and always managed to escape his tutors, which had come in handy a time or two.
He needed to find a way out. He had a mate and a child to protect.
And nothing, not even a jail cell, would keep him from getting to them.
Chapter Ten
“Momma?”
“Shhhh. It’s okay. I’m here.” Raine ran a hand over her son’s forehead. His cold, clammy skin made her insides curl inward, then shiver.
She and Beck had been left in what appeared to be a waiting room. The furniture was angular, and devoid of comfort, and a strong antiseptic smell attacked her nose. She placed her hand on Beck’s chest and felt his uneven breaths. “You need to keep quiet. I’m trying to find help. Promise me you’ll try to hold on.”
“I’m tired,” he whispered, unable to add any volume through his raspy breath.
“I know, baby. Just hold on a little while longer.”
“Will you take care of Mr. Weebles?”
“Who?” A mouse emerged from her son’s pocket to search for food, his white whiskers and nose twitching. She extended her hand and let Joseph’s pet crawl across her fingers. “Of course, baby. I’ll keep him safe for when you are well again.”
She spread open her shirt pocket and let Mr. Weebles crawl inside to feed on the grains in the bottom seams. Now I need to find one of those rejuvenation pods.
The glass door behind her slid open, and she stood and put herself between her son and the threat coming through the door.
The head scientist, still carryin
g her clipboard, walked in with a couple of staff members who set trays of food on the metal table.
“I haven’t properly introduced myself. I’m Gabrielle Fathoms. My apologies for the confusion upon your arrival. Welcome aboard. It’s not often I get the pleasure of talking to a human.”
Not often. Hmmm. Raine doubled her shields.
The tall scientist wore a white coat, but she was still elegant, her long, lean fingers almost fluid as they moved. Her straight spine and tight chignon gave her a sophisticated air. She waited for her assistants to exit before continuing.
Raine took the opportunity to lean a few degrees to the left to study the lab beyond. Three tubes filled with liquid filled the center of the room. She gasped, seeing a human body suspended in one of the tall containers. She forced back the bile welling into her throat. Along the edges were panels of computers and instruments. “You’ve been studying our race, and I assume our differences.”
Gabrielle didn’t pretend to deny what Raine said, only smiled, one of those sneaky smiles, the kind that didn’t reach her eyes, but gave the impression the person was friendly. This woman, whatever else she might be, is not friendly.
“It seems our races are much more closely related than certain scientists realized,” Gabrielle continued. “I would like to conduct tests on your son to see if we can help him, but first I wanted to extend my hospitality. Please accept food and refreshments. You’ve had a long journey, and there is not much in the way of food on space transports.” The doctor picked up a glass nearest her and motioned for Raine to select the other.
“It’s the juice from the mullion fruit. It’s rather refreshing.” Gabrielle tipped the glass and took a long drink, then licked her lips with apparent pleasure.
Raine lifted the glass and sniffed the contents. Her empty stomach reminded her she hadn’t eaten since leaving Earth. Her senses registered the tang of the drink, something akin to strawberries and peaches on Earth, yet there was a bitter, lemony smell.
“I’ll pass.” She set the glass back on the tray.
“I had a feeling you were smart.” The woman’s smile widened. “It’s refreshing.”
Only a second passed before Raine’s hand went numb. She grabbed the edge of the table. “Why is the room spinning?”
“Ooops. I guess I forgot to mention I coated your glass with the oils from the Deneb nettle. It’s a mild sedative. The effects will wear off eventually. Don’t worry. We’ll take good care of you and your son.”
Raine narrowed in on the organic thread winding its way to her system, and fought to reverse the effects, but couldn’t.
Her arms tingled, then her fingers, then toes. “Please don’t hurt my son,” she pleaded, not knowing if the words came out right.
After a few seconds, she lost control of her muscles. She could feel her legs collapsing only moments before the darkness closed in.
Raine dreamed she was walking through a thick fog, trying to find Beck. He’d run off to play and was late for dinner again. She pushed through the rows of corn, but kept getting stuck. She couldn’t move her arms, and her legs felt heavy, like her boots had gotten wedged in the mud.
She twisted and turned each way, trying to orient herself.
A woman’s voice calling to her made her stop and listen. It wasn’t Lacey. No, it was a much younger voice.
The woman told her, “Your son is safe.”
How would she know?
He couldn’t be safe. He wasn’t home.
She fought to clear the fog in her mind and drifted toward consciousness.
Her eyes fluttered open, then she lowered her lids until she peered through her eyelashes. Several scientists hovered nearby. She opened her eyes a bit further and saw her son on the table next to her.
His small frame looked odd strapped to the large table. Little mechanical orbs floated above his body, beeping a low-frequency sound.
“Do you think he can be regenerated?” asked the exceptionally thin, half-human half-crustacean being. Large, bulging, round black eyes and long, thin antennae jutted out from her forehead. Raine didn’t quite know why she assumed the being was a woman, and the person who had spoken to her. Maybe it was because the creature had a kind face, and a gentle, nurturing way about her.
The tall male standing next to her in a similar lab coat scoffed with superiority. “He’s contaminated. He won’t regenerate. There are not enough good cells to attempt the process. He should be terminated.”
Noooo. You can’t mean that. Raine tugged again at the wrist clamps but held back her concern for fear of being detected.
“The female,” the male pointed over his shoulder toward her, “she might be an experimental candidate. Even though exposed, she has a good percentage of uncontaminated cells remaining.”
Exposed? Of course. Why wouldn’t I have been contaminated along with Beck?
Still, the news sent a shockwave of distress. She lay unmoving, sinking into a deep meditation to visualize the infected areas.
Cold tentacles touched her arm, and she jerked her eyes open. The young female held a finger-like appendage to her lips.
“My name is Tila. I’m Myka’s friend.”
She must be his friend if she could pronounce his name correctly. His name was beautiful, like a waterfall of sounds. She tried to lift her arms, but the medical straps held her in place.
“Please,” Raine poured every ounce of her energy into the single word. “Please help my son. Don’t give up on him.”
Tila’s tentacles waved in the air. “Myka sends you a message.” She made sure there wasn’t anyone listening, then leaned in closer. “He will not abandon you.”
Yet he already had. She closed her eyes to hold in the anger. He’d tricked her about being his mate. The commander even said no Protector could take a mate. It wasn’t allowed.
What was with her falling for guys who were full of themselves, making promises, then not delivering? Beck’s father had sworn till death do us part. Then again, he did deliver beatings. When he found out about her gifts, he’d beaten her to within an inch of death. When she recovered enough to walk, she woke up Beck, packed a few things, and caught the first bus out of town.
Then again, Myka wasn’t at fault. He hadn’t been allowed to help. But she didn’t want to rely on any man. She’d learned to live on her own. She would save Beck or die trying.
She stretched with her fingers to reach the woman’s coat. Grasping the fabric, she tugged. “Can you tell me why Beck can’t go into the regenerator?”
Tila leaned forward. “We can’t isolate enough healthy cells. The regeneration process resets the cells back to an adolescent stage or a stage when the cells are the healthiest. When our young reach a certain age, we extract cells from behind the ear and store them for replication. Water people use these cells during the rejuvenation process.”
“If this is the case, your species can be immortal.”
Tila shook her head. “The rejuvenation process diminishes the effectiveness over time. On average, our females do not last past their fortieth regeneration.”
“Is that why your females are rare?”
“Yes. And because only one female is born to every seventh male.”
Raine’s mind raced to catch up. If this was true, the shortage of females would explain why Myka never expected to mate, and why the commander might have suggested he couldn’t.
Myka hadn’t lied. Raine compiled and sorted the information. The resentment and anger from moments earlier dissipated. “May I ask why you look different from the others?”
Tila’s shy smile disappeared. “You met my mother, Gabrielle. When I was born, my body was sick. She tried to heal me in the only way she knew. The stabilization process produced unexpected results.”
Raine knew all about being labeled a freak. She’d had rocks thrown at her. Her car spray-painted. She’d been rejected almost all her life until she found Magic. Never would she allow another person to make her feel unwanted or ugly.
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“Unexpected results…and some beautiful ones.” Raine genuinely praised the young woman, certain she was good, and deserved more than the dismissiveness her colleague had given her.
Tila said nothing, only stared.
Raine lifted her fingers, and squeezed Tila’s hand gently. “You are unique. Special. One of a kind.” She squeezed the woman’s hand harder. “Because of your differences, you are meant for great things.”
Tila tried to pull away, but Raine held on.
“Believe, Tila. Like me, you will listen and watch and hear, when others will fail to take the time. You will make a difference one day. You’ll see.”
A spark of hope flashed through the young woman’s eyes. “I believe I know how to save your son.”
The flare of hope illuminated Raine’s heart. “Tell me—”
The sliding glass door opened and Tila’s male counterpart sauntered in. “Is the human awake?”
Tila’s expression intensified, and Raine closed her eyes. “No, not yet. But she is stable. I’ll begin running her tests shortly.”
“I’ve explained to your mother the boy’s body is too damaged. She said to tell you she doesn’t need the carcass, that the other specimens in the freezers are better test subjects. She’s authorized the disposal of the boy.”
Raine wanted to jump off the table and strangle the bastard, but she couldn’t move.
Tila squeezed Raine’s arm in warning. “I will see to the disposal. Isn’t there a bola match today you wanted to watch?”
“Yes,” the male grunted, not looking up from his computer board. “And I will miss the game because of these two.”
“The tests I want to run will take several hours. If you want, you can watch the match. I still have all these tissue samples to process, and the boy’s body to prepare for disposal. I could toss him into the incinerator, but I want to ensure the incineration process doesn’t send particles into the air and contaminate the ship.”
“As you should.” The male glanced up from the display, his scowl deepening. “Why are you being nice?”