Arrival

by Michelle Robbins

  “What?”

  “It’s been on my mind since I woke up,” Liam confessed. “I didn’t think it was a problem until just now. I mean, if I’m supposed to be able to mind-speak with the Urilqii here, what’s with a closed window? Because I’m not trained yet?”

  Doctor David stood in front of him, his mouth working like a landed fish. “Can you explain what you feel when you say ‘closed window’?”

  Liam could’ve sworn “closed window” said it all, but he tried again. “Like, as if someone had pulled down the shades. Where once I could see, now all I get is a blank wall.”

  “Of silence?”

  He hadn’t checked that part of it, so he did. He pushed against the stillness, for want of a better term, and received…nothing.

  “Yep. Stone cold. Like one of those white noise machines.” He couldn’t describe it any other way. “It’s weird, like having a blind spot in my vision.”

  “I see.”

  And judging by this expression, the doctor wasn’t happy with the news. He closed his mouth, his nostrils flared, and he pressed his lips together into a thin white line. A muscle jumped in his jaw, once, twice.

  The man looked pissed.

  Uh-oh.

  “Look, I’ll get over it.” Liam rushed the promise. “It’s no biggie. Adaptation and all that. Sometimes, maybe, it takes a few days.”

  Hell, if he didn’t adapt, would he be stuck with the cost of the procedure? He had volunteered. What had he signed? What had he committed to do? And if he didn’t, had he signed himself into expensive legal obligation?

  Doctor David busily tapped information into his space-dude iPad. Liam could have sworn he shrank in size as every second passed in silence.

  “Look, I really am sorry.” His voice sounded as timid as he felt, puny and pathetic.

  The doctor closed his data unit and glanced up, one side of his mouth edged into a tiny curve. “You have nothing to apologize for, Mr. Sinclair. We’ll handle this.”

  He’d spoken the truth, but not all of it. The doctor was holding something back, something he didn’t want Liam to know.

  It was probably better he was kept in the dark. ( A lab rat, for fuck’s sake. ) Besides, he had something else on his mind. Mike was proving stubborn. He knew there was something between him and their first sergeant. The kiss they’d shared had been so erotic it burned. The tenderness Mike had shown when Liam had fallen…

  That had meant something, dammit!

  And if they weren’t delusional fantasies, he was sure Mike had visited him over the past couple of days he’d been stuck in the bed, puking and groaning. One particular visit—fantasy?—was quite clear in his memory. Mike had looked well and truly trashed, like he’d been on a three-day bender, and had spent long moments begging for forgiveness.

  Weird.

  “Will this keep me from flying again?” Not that stalking a guy’s job was Liam’s preferred method of courtship, but sometimes a guy had to go what a guy had to do. At the very least, press for some honest communication between them.

  The doctor hesitated, which was Liam’s only warning he wasn’t going to like the answer.

  “You’ve been reassigned to the Armored Fighting Vehicle division. Specifically, an exploratory team of modified tanks.”

  Pain filled his soul like the explosion of a grenade, fast, hot, and devastating. His breath froze in his chest. His mouth dried, alerting him to the fact his lips had parted on a gasp.

  “No…”

  The protest sounded like the wounded whine of a puppy.

  Doctor David made an aborted reach for his arm. Compassion lined his face.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “The orders have already been signed.”

  “No…” That wounded sound slipped from him again.

  Rejected! Again! The story of his life. “I can do this.”

  “Please calm yourself.”

  “Mike. Where’s Mike? Let me talk to him. He’ll help. I can do this,” he repeated. He could, dammit. “It was just the newness of—”

  Something caught his attention. Regret radiated from the doctor, quickly stifled. An image of a closed window flickered through his mind, and he knew. Liam sent up a plea to God, who never listened to him anyway, but he’d never stopped asking.

  Please, no…

  David flinched, a movement so tiny Liam barely saw it. In fact, he really only felt it.

  The doctor knew what Liam guessed, but he needed to hear it.

  “Tell me,” he croaked. When Doctor David hesitated, he pushed, an act of instinct, pain, and need. “God, please say it.”

  If it could be said that a man visibly struggled with himself, the doctor was an example of that very thing. Fine tremors shook his body. Grief filled his expression. A gleam of tears shone in his eyes. Finally, he said it.

  “Mike initiated the transfer.”

  He’d been right. All the messages were there. The window, Mike’s tortured visitation while he’d been in the hospital bed. All of it meant exactly what he’d feared. Mike didn’t want what Liam had to give.

  The shock of the rejection slashed through him like a knife’s blade and cut into his heart. The emotional bloodletting filled his soul. A steam-like pressure built between his ears. His heart… Oh, God, this can’t be happening.

  Self-control shattered.

  “Where is he?” Liam roared.

  CHAPTER 11

  “Mr. Sinclair? Please control yourself.”

  Doctor David looked surprised. Liam didn’t give a shit.

  “The fuck I will,” he bellowed.

  “You must,” said the doctor. One edge of his mouth twitched with either a stifled grin or the jump of his jaw muscle.

  “The hell I must.” Liam made sure he matched his previous volume. “The only thing I need to do is breathe.”

  He seized the edge of the blanket and yanked it aside. He twisted in place and dropped his feet over the edge. Cool, canned atmosphere wafted across his things and crotch. Fuck, he was naked!

  “But you will.” No mistake. The doctor was smiling. “That is, unless it is your intent to deliver your problem into the minds of everyone on this base.”

  The comment froze him in place. Whatever shock he’d felt about discovering his nakedness evaporated like a chunk of ice on a summer sidewalk.

  “Huh?” Wait. What did he just say?

  “You have much strength, Mr. Sinclair.” The doctor leaned close and drew the blanket back over Liam’s legs and hips.

  “Command level strength, if I don’t miss my guess, but I’m thinking you don’t want the entire cabal to know how you feel.”

  Liam managed to unfreeze his fingers and tugged the blanket tighter against his body. Not that he was ashamed of his body, but because of the sudden wave of vulnerability that tossed him like a stick in a hurricane.

  “You can…” His voice was a squeak. He swallowed hard and tried again. “You can feel what I feel?”

  Christ, did everyone on base know Mike kicked me to the curb before we’d even got off first base?

  Doctor David straightened and returned his hands to his pockets. “We all can, when you let us.”

  Silence fell as Liam gaped. He couldn’t…he didn’t… Holy shit! The doctor winked. Mortified, Liam cringed. Maybe—just maybe—the doctor was wrong.

  “Uh…” He coughed on a croak. “How do you, uh, know? What if you’re wrong?” Please, please, please be wrong.

  David’s expression folded into lines of compassion. “Our cabal’s commander told me to tell you to put a sock in it.”

  “Oh, God.” He blushed so hard it felt like every inch of his body was on fire.

  “And if you take a moment and listen”—a strange emphasis was applied to the word— “I’m sure you’ll hear…nothing.”

  “Nothing?”

  “All the chatter? All the cross-talk? The bees and the birds you thought you heard? You silenced it all with your roar.”

  “Oh, God,” Liam repe
ated.

  Doctor David continued after a moment.

  “I can feel the amusement and—I’ll admit it—the voyeuristic anticipation of more entertainment to come. So will you, if you listen.” Again, the odd emphasis placed upon the word. Liam dropped his face into his hands. “I’m in hell.”

  “No, you’re in cabal E’ssennet.”

  The doctor’s statement wasn’t the least bit reassuring. In fact, the doctor’s comment was right on. He couldn’t hear any buzzing or squawking, but he could “hear” anticipation and amusement.

  “Ah, hell.” He groaned.

  “You’re quite a surprise, Mr. Sinclair. No wonder you bonded so easily to our Mike.”

  Mike! Temper flared through him, burning away his embarrassment and leaving nothing behind but scorched earth. He wasn’t sure how he knew, or why he knew, but suddenly the location of that bastard came to him from multiple directions.

  Was that a Urilqii message?

  “Indeed,” said Doctor David. Amusement filled his tone.

  “Welcome to our mind-speak.”

  “They’re reading my mind?” Wasn’t anything sacred?

  “You’re broadcasting,” said David. “So, of course we would respond to your request.”

  “That’s impossible.” In fact, it was unbelievable.

  The doctor shook his head.

  “No, Mr. Sinclair,” he said, a gentle correction in his tone.

  ::It’s who we are. It’s what we were born to be.::

  Liam flinched away from the voice in his head. He couldn’t accept this. Hell, he flat-out refused to accept this.

  “But regardless, we are here.” David nodded, as if agreeing with some conversational point Liam wasn’t privy to.

  “Furthermore, your strength is amazing, especially if we consider your newness to the link. Then again, you’ve been attached to Mike for months. The link has had time to mature and grow in strength.”

  “Mike?” That fucktard! “What does he have to do with this?”

  “Ah.” Another gentle smile. “Speculation is that your and Mike’s interaction that summer evening switched on the gene and connected the two of you—”

  “What?”

  The doctor flinched. Liam grabbed hold of himself, or at least he tried to. The threads of his frayed control flickered and danced in his vision. Or was that something to do with the mind-speak?

  “I’ll handle this, Doctor.”

  Liam jerked his head up from his hands. Mike stood in the doorway, his voice like campfire smoke on a spring night. “It’s Jace, Doctor. :: Will you see to him? The pain in his head has returned, as has the vomiting.::

  Liam’s heart leapt with delight—until he realized it wasn’t Mike but Steve, his twin. Disappointment squashed the momentary pleasure as effectively as a boot onto an ant. Wait…how did he know it was Steve and not Mike? But he did. He just knew.

  Ah, jeez, the aforementioned “full immersion.”

  Steve had forecast correctly. It wasn’t hard to individually recognize those two now that he’d, apparently, been assimilated.

  Yeah, resistance was futile. Had he even had a chance to resist?

  The doctor quit the room, and Steve’s attention switched to him.

  ::Just a kiss?::

  The question sounded like a box of tumbling rocks. And the answer was no. Liam’d been in all the way. Hell, he’d even chased the guy onto and all over this military base. Oh, shit! The entire cabal knows what I’ve done!

  ::It’s a beautiful blend, :: said someone with warm, plummy tones.

  Liam flapped a hand madly beside his head, in a frightened attempt to dislodge the bee inside his brain. Steve huffed a chuckle, and Liam delivered a frown, just in case the guy didn’t realize how unsettled he was.

  Dimples tweaked the sides of Steve’s face.

  Okay, yeah, he probably did know how Liam felt. “Ah, jeez…”

  A wave of amusement washed across Liam. His skin tingled when he realized it didn’t originate with him. He stared at Steve.

  The light twinge of pain in his eyes alerted Liam to his bug-eyed expression.

  Steve crossed the floor over to the bed. He reached out his hand, took a fistful of blanket across Liam’s feet, and pulled. The cloth slid away, once again revealing his nakedness, before Liam realized his intent.

  “The fuck?” His voice was an ignominious squeak. It was no wonder Steve didn’t seem impressed by the protest.

  Instead of an apology, Steve said, “Up.”

  “What?”

  “Get up. Let’s go.”

  “Uhhhh…where?”

  Steve cocked his head and leveled a narrow-eyed gaze at Liam.

  “I thought you wanted to get into Mike’s face,” he said. “Did you change your mind?”

  ::Hell no!:: Liam bounced his ass across the bed and got to his feet. That goddamned Mike is about to get an earful, he swore to himself. Momma Sinclair had raised no coward. But wait… He swept the bed, the room, his memory. Nothing.

  “Where’re my clothes?”

  Steve stifled a laugh. His gaze flicked to the blanket and Liam’s body a couple of times. He crossed his brawny arms over his chest and planted his feet more firmly on the floor A suspicion crossed Liam’s mind. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Or did you want to wait for Doctor David to sign off on your release? I’m fairly certain that won’t be happening anytime soon.”

  Steve didn’t pause for a reply. “I can wait.”

  What the hell. He wasn’t a child of Clan Sinclair for nothing.

  Liam yanked up the blanket, folded it into a long length, and went to work.

  “You know,” he said, as he wrapped his body, kilt-style, “I’m not sure I can control that mind-speak thing. Maybe I’ll be shouting all the time? Controlling my thoughts isn’t something I’m used to.”

  “You’ll manage it,” said Steve. “You learned how to control your farts, didn’t you?”

  Liam barked a laugh. “Yeah, I guess I did.”

  The pillowcase made for a tight but usable belt. Good thing I’m not a large guy. Finally, he was ready.

  “Okay, let’s go, but I don’t think I need an escort. I’m sure I can manage.”

  Steve moved to the threshold. He gave an absent answer as he peeked into the corridor. “You’ll need a Urilqii to open the infirmary’s outside door.”

  “Oh.” Uncertainty swept him, and this time is was his.

  Steve made eye contact over his shoulder, waved with his hand, and slipped out of the room. Liam followed into the corridor, trying hard to look more confident than he felt. They hadn’t taken more than five steps when a blast of temper filled his awareness.

  ::Get him back here, Sergeant!::

  ::I said I’d handle this.::

  The box-of-rocks voice seemed to be Steve’s. The angry one was probably the doctor’s. Liam imagined himself a small, tiny mouse and tucked himself into the shadow Steve cast on the floor.

  They passed doors and desks. The outside lights warmed and brightened as they traveled toward it.

  Anger sizzled. ::He’s not cleared to leave the infirmary.::

  ::He’ll be with Top, at least for a time. After that, the cabal will watch him.::

  At a corridor junction, Steve looked both ways, then turned right. His stride lengthened. Liam trotted to keep up, bare feet slapping on the floor tiles. He was forced to yank the pillowcase belt closed a time or two when it gave way from the strain.

  ::And if he goes into medical crisis,:: Steve’s comment continued, ::he’s right next door. He’ll be cared for until medics arrive.::

  A low hooting sound filled the area. An alarm? The sound of running footsteps advanced. He and Steve encountered a clear door that had an undeniable look of security about it. The lock appeared equal parts menacing and foreboding. The guy at the desk on the other side of the door got to his feet.

  Steve waved him away.

  Confusion roiled through the area.

/>   ::If you open that door, Sergeant, I’ll have your ass for breakfast.::

  Yeah, Doctor David. It had to be.

  ::Enjoy the meal:: was Steve’s reply. He pressed his hand against the lock. Lights blipped and battled. The guy on the other side bit his bottom lip and worked the control on his side. Steve hissed.

  “We can’t get through?” Liam asked.

  Well, it had been a brave effort. He’d have to wait to tear Mike a new asshole once the doctor cleared him for duty. That is, unless the doctor didn’t kick his ass off the base for this stunt.

  “Stand by,” said Steve. He went to work on his data pad. “I’m overriding his override of my override.”

  The comical statement brought a wholly ill-timed and inappropriate chuckle.

  “Listen.” Steve paused in his work to give Liam an intense glance. “I know my pod-kin…er, my brother. He’s competitive, yes, but no man, Urilqii or human, can fight well when he’s off balance. You know?”

  Well, Liam did know, but wasn’t sure how—

  “Mike’s been off balance since you took his mouth and coaxed his scent. You claimed him, according to our people.”

  Whoa. “I didn’t mean to…it was just a kiss.”

  Steve plowed on with his point. “He’s off balance and unsure of his footing. Use that.”

  He laid his data unit onto the door lock. A storm of lights danced across both units. Personnel wearing medical orange bodysuits and draped in white lab coats appeared around a corner to their rear and advanced on the run.

  The lock clicked. Steve pushed open the door.

  The guy on the other side looked confused, anxious.

  Steve waved him away and took hold of Liam’s arm, which he used to haul him with him through the entranceway. A snarl followed them. ::He’s not medically cleared!::

  “Do me a favor?” Steve asked. He shoved Liam through the main doors. “Don’t die.”

  “I’ll do my best.” Liam blinked in the sudden darkness of night.

  Steve pointed at the building beside the infirmary complex, then he disappeared back inside. Was it his imagination or did Steve’s bulk provide a deliberate obstacle for any pursuit?

  ::Go. ::