by Tamsin Ley
His entire crew was waiting at the open cargo bay doors when the rickshaw skidded to a halt on the blistering-hot tarmac. Qaiyaan lifted Lisa from the seat and strode toward the ship. Behind him, the driver clambered after him, cursing loudly for his promised fare. Shouting at his first mate to pay the angry yanipa-nimayu, Qaiyaan headed for the med bay. Mek ran alongside waving a portable scanner over Lisa’s limp form.
Normally in an emergency situation, Qaiyaan would've sent a surge of ionic energy to his feet, allowing him to leap onto the second-level catwalk toward the med bay. But his terror of using any of his powers around the fragile woman in his arms sent him climbing the stairs three at a time.
In the med bay, he lay her gently on the exam table, pulling her gaping dress closed against his crewmen's gazes. When he felt Mek's hand on his arm, urging him away, he stiffened, instinct demanding he defend his woman. Then Mek's voice brought him back to reality. "I'm not sure what's causing her blackouts, but you're the common denominator. You need to leave."
Nausea rolled through him. He was the common denominator. Great Ellam Cua, what if he’d killed his only chance for a mate? He stepped backward, his attention glued to the woman on the table. To his mate on the table. Consummated or not, there was no denying that now. “She was trying to reprogram her own nanites. Trying to make us compatible.”
Mek narrowed his eyes. “Was she successful?”
“Obviously not.” Qaiyaan croaked out, his chest full of regret. Why had he ever allowed her to talk him into this?
Tovik moved between Qaiyaan and the exam table, his green eyes full of compassion. “Come on, Captain. I know where you hide the akluilak wine. Let the doctor do his thing.”
Reluctantly, he followed his engineer to the galley.
Three shots of wine later, Qaiyaan felt no calmer. His soul felt like it’d been ripped in two. Tovik had been called away to talk to Nupnup’s repairman, and Noatak now sat in the galley in silence, both feet propped on the neighboring chair, arms crossed over his chest. They both watched the door, waiting for Mek to make a report.
When the doctor arrived, he paused, face downturned as he read his handheld. Qaiyaan wanted to strangle him for taking so long yet was hesitant to interrupt the doctor’s analysis. Noatak broke the silence. “Stop being an ass, Mek. If you’re not ready to talk, go back to the med bay. The captain here’s about to go into a rasvrid leviathan rage on our galley furniture.”
Mek continued staring at his handheld. "Her brain waves are way off kilter, but it's different than last time. The nanites are reproducing and reprogramming at a rate I can't track. Her synapses can't keep up and I don't know how to stop it. She's so sensitive to energy frequencies, I can't get decent readings with my low-level sensors and I'm afraid anything more intense might make things worse. I've given her a test dose of a synaptic equalizer, but I'm not sure how human physiology will react." He lowered the device. "Can you tell me exactly what happened? Start at the very beginning, from the moment you left the spaceport."
Qaiyaan rose, scrubbing both hands over his face and up through his hair. He relayed every move they’d made, sanitizing their intimacy yet making it clear they’d taken that step. “But I didn’t nudge her, I swear. I went no farther with her than any of us have with women during shore leave.”
“I warned you that any intimacy could be too much for her.” Mek’s recriminating gaze barely touched Qaiyaan through his own quagmire of guilt.
“I know.” Qaiyaan grabbed the wine and took a long swig directly from the bottle.
Tovik arrived, gaze sweeping from Mek to Qaiyaan. “The hull guy’s almost done scanning the damaged panels. What’d I miss?”
Noatak kicked his feet off his makeshift footstool and reached for the bottle. “Mek just made the captain kiss and tell.”
“Aw, man!”
“Shut up, you two,” Mek warned.
Qaiyaan paced the small galley. The helplessness and rage he felt now were nearly as strong as what he'd felt upon hearing about the destruction of his planet and everyone he loved. "This is all my fault."
Mek once again consulted his handheld. “I wish I understood her nanite programming. It’s made her more sensitive to a nudge than even perhaps a Denaidan female would be.”
Tovik sat next to Noatak. “Or she just doesn’t know how to shut the sensitivity off. Isn’t that why our women couldn’t leave the planet? They couldn’t shut out the other races’ input?”
Qaiyaan planted both hands on the table. “If she can’t shut them off, can we remove them? Purify her blood or whatever?”
Mek’s brows drew together. “I’m afraid it’s not that simple. They’ve become so enmeshed with her synapses, removing them may do more harm than good.”
An image of Lisa’s mind overrun with tiny fucking robots filled Qaiyaan’s mind. Robots she could never shut down. “She’s still sensing me, isn’t she? That’s the problem.”
“Perhaps. But she should avoid using her nanites until we figure this out.”
“She’s sensing him? Or those Syndicorp nanites are?” Noatak asked. “What if she’s transmitting all this straight back to Syndicorp spies? I say we stick her back in cryo.”
Mek nodded thoughtfully.
Qaiyaan put his hands on his hips and faced his crew. “We’re not sticking her in cryo.”
“Don’t be so hasty. The idea may have merit.” Mek was scrolling his handheld, gaze darting over the information as if he couldn’t read it all fast enough.
“She’s not a threat to us, not like that.” Qaiyaan insisted. “And she nearly died in cryo last time.”
“It’s not that we don’t trust her—” Mek started.
“I don’t trust her,” Noatak said.
Mek frowned at the first mate. “You’re not helping.” He turned back to Qaiyaan. “Slowing her nanites might break the programming cascade and allow her mind time to regain control. Plus we still haven’t addressed the issue of her withstanding burn frequencies once we leave Bolisare. Cryo would stabilize her until we figure something out.”
Qaiyaan took a deep breath, trying to remain rational. Much as he hated to admit it, Mek might be right. "So where do we get a cryo-pod?"
Tovik drummed his fingers on the table. “I made repairs to her old one. It should work even better now.”
Noatak raised an eyebrow. “No offense, Tovik, but I’m not sure we should put her in one of your new and improved inventions.”
Qaiyaan nodded. Tovik’s most recent improvement to the Hardship’s lavatory shower had used up half their water supply before they realized what was happening.
“Hey!” Tovik glowered at all three of his crewmen. “My upgrades have saved our asses more times than you can count.”
“And I appreciate it when things work, Tovik. I really do. But this isn’t the three of us going balls out to escape some heist. This is…” Qaiyaan wasn’t sure how to explain. “This is Lisa. I’ll go back to Nupnup and ask for a pod.”
An unfamiliar voice spoke from behind him. “Too late for that.”
Qaiyaan spun, hands balled into fists. A human male wearing a repairman’s jumpsuit blocked the doorway, aiming a fully-charged pulse pistol straight between Qaiyaan’s eyes.
Chapter Eleven
Lisa felt Qaiyaan’s turmoil, a tug that reached deep into her soul and pleaded with her to pull free. The maelstrom surrounding her refused to let her go or even give her a chance to find solid ground within her own mind. Around the edges, she was also aware of the crew scrambling for options. Sweet Tovik’s adoring concern. Mek’s analytical worry. Even Noatak’s grudging and conflicted wish to help her, in spite of his reluctance to hope. None of these connections could pull her free.
Then her cyber-sensitive nanites picked up an encoded message. They snatched bits out of the turmoil, piecing the packets of information together. There was a stranger on the ship. A cartel intruder.
And there were more on the way.
Adrenaline flooded her sy
stem, honing her focus. She had to warn the crew. The men who’d risked so much to save her were going to suffer and die. The cartel would punish them for helping her. Torture them as much for fun as retribution. The memory of a rakwiji bounty hunter using its claw to trace a bloody cartel tattoo over Seloh’s chest slammed into her. She had to wake up. Now.
The nanites she’d reprogrammed continued to battle against those locked into Syndicorp protocols. Synapses in her brain fired at random, creating an ever-changing maze she couldn’t escape. You hacked the systems once. You can do it again. She grabbed hold of one nanite. Just one. It took all the strength she had. But she gave it a single directive.
Wake me up.
The tiny computer burrowed its way through the electronic storm of her mind, dragging her behind like a kite. She bobbed to the surface of consciousness, sucking in a breath as if she'd been underwater. Her eyes flew open, blinded by the soft fluorescent lighting of the medical bay. She was alone in the room. After a couple of breaths to gather her strength, she attempted to sit, but her body refused to obey. Come on, move!
One finger at a time, one hand, one arm. She pushed herself upright. Using the nanite that’d brought her awake, she began reprogramming the others. But Syndicorp’s programming was fighting back. Her forces were eroding. Instinct told her to shut everything down, initiate a reboot. But that would probably knock her out again, and she wasn’t sure she’d ever wake up if that happened. All she could do was create a wall between her consciousness and her cyber-sensitivity to keep the Syndicorp faction at bay.
She swung her legs to the floor, her knees threatening to buckle. Her dress was held together across her chest with strips of medical tape, and an IV line trailed to her arm. She yanked the needle out and planted unsteady palms on the bed for support while she surveyed the med bay for a weapon. Anything to fend off the cartel infiltrator. She had no idea how he was here, or if the crew even knew about him yet. All she knew was he was waiting for reinforcements. Her hand fell on a pair of scissors, the only remotely aggressive thing in the bay unless she intended to bash him with a scanner. Threading her fingers through the loops, she crept out of the medical bay.
Down the hall, she heard Qaiyaan’s outraged voice. “Who the fuck are you?”
A stranger dressed in workman’s coveralls had his back to her, bracing himself with one foot in and one foot outside the galley door.
"That's the hull repairman," Tovik said from inside the room.
The man gestured to someone inside. “Pick up the rope and tie your friend, there. You guys made a serious mistake trying to put one over on the cartel.”
Lisa ducked across the corridor into Qaiyaan’s quarters and peeked around the doorframe. The galley was two doors down, only about fifteen steps away, but her legs felt weak as jelly. She caught her breath and fought to keep her nanites under control.
“There must be some sort of mistake,” Qaiyaan said. “I want to talk to Nupnup.”
“Oh, you’ll be talking to Nupnup, all right. You can explain to him how you’re charging services to one of the cells Syndicorp took out of commission six months ago.”
Lisa’s stomach dropped. Of course cell three had been destroyed. That cell had been the point of entry she and Doug had provided when they’d signed on with Syndicorp. How stupid could she be? The code words hadn’t been changed because they were obsolete. Now Qaiyaan was in danger because of her mistake.
“Taken out? How the fuck did that happen?” Qaiyaan asked. “We’ve been in deep cover.”
Good explanation, Lisa thought to herself and slid out of the room, creeping toward the stranger. Keep him talking.
Lisa?
Qaiyaan's voice in her head sent her to her knees. The scissors went clattering across the metal deck. Stars swam in her vision and she struggled to stay conscious, ordering the few nanites she controlled to subdue her misfiring synapses. She was barely aware of the sound of a struggle, of the zipping noise of a pulse gun, shouting and cursing. She had to help them, but her control of her body was sluggish as if the nanites were trying to take over her motor skills now, too.
Feet pounded the decking nearby, and hands cradled both sides of her face. She blinked up into Qaiyaan’s blue eyes.
“Lisa! Thank Ellam Cua you’re alive!” he breathed.
Her nanites swarmed toward his touch as if yearning for the contact of his copper skin. But that meant the few she controlled weren't keeping her synapses in line, either. She jerked away, breath coming in painful gasps. "We have to lift off planet. Now."
“I’m all for getting off this hell-hole.” Noatak had a knee planted firmly on the cartel member’s back, keeping the guy pinned against the deck. Waves of anger emanated from both men, smashing against her nanite-battered synapses and making her want to curl into a ball.
The stranger struggled, his gaze settling on Lisa. “Lisa Moss?” His eyes narrowed. “The Syndicorp spy. Gedan Jaru will pay big bucks for proof you’re alive.”
One of his brown eyes went opaque white then dark again. Shit. He had a cybernetic camera. Did he have a transmission unit, too? She couldn't tell without using her nanites, but wasn't sure she could keep her synapses under control if she did. The little computers were going crazy as if picking up every nearby emotion. The tumult in her head was making it hard to think. "He has a camera in his left eye."
Qaiyaan grabbed the stranger by the hair. “Someone get me a knife.”
“What are you doing?” Mek asked.
“Removing his camera.”
“He’s probably already sent his intel.” Mek held out a warning hand. “Cutting it out won’t do any good.”
“It’ll make me feel better,” Qaiyaan growled. The protective urges rolling off the big captain might’ve seemed sexy if Lisa hadn’t been so overwhelmed with the emotions pressing in from all around her.
Noatak wrenched the stranger’s arm backward at an awkward angle. “He mentioned Syndicorp spies. He could have useful info.”
“Anaq!” Qaiyaan swore and released his hold.
The stranger bared his teeth, but kept his gaze on Lisa. “I have lots of intel. What’s it worth to you?”
Lisa held her body stiff as stone, fighting off the oily waves of greed coming from the stranger. But she also sensed a wobble in his emotions. A hesitation that could only mean one thing.
The stranger was stalling, waiting for an opportunity to send the photo to Gedan.
She stared at him, her eyes burning as she realized what that meant. He doesn’t have a transmission unit. She could delete the picture.
Rising, she wobbled over to the man, dropping to her knees beside him. “I’m going to hack into his camera and erase the picture.”
Noatak grabbed both her wrists stopping her before she made contact. “So you can wipe what he knows about you? I don’t think so.”
She glowered and jerked away. “I can’t reprogram his brain, only his camera.”
“How do we know that?”
Lisa balled her hands into fists until her nails cut into her palms, using the pain as a focus. “You don’t. But if word gets out I’m alive, every cartel contact in the galaxy will be after our blood.”
Freed from Noatak’s arm-wrenching, the stranger propped himself on his elbows, craning his neck to look behind him. “I have a proposition. How about we split the money? She’s pretty. We can have some fun with her, then turn her in.”
In an instant, Qaiyaan yanked the stranger out from under Noatak and slammed a fist against his cheekbone. With a satisfying crunch, the stranger rocked backward, colliding with the wall before sliding down it in a daze. Qaiyaan loomed over him like a pillar of rage. “How about you shut the fuck up.”
Grimacing, Noatak pointed at Lisa. “If the cartel wants her this bad, maybe we should give her to them. Making a little cash sounds a hell of a lot better than adding to our list of enemies.”
“You want some of this, too, Noatak?” Muscles coiled and hands balled into fists, Qai
yaan stepped toward his first mate.
But Lisa knew Noatak was partially right. The cartel would never stop coming after her. Anyone associated with her was doomed. Qaiyaan deserved better. The crew of the Hardship deserved better. Taking a deep breath, she said, “If the cartel finds out you helped me, you’ll never be safe again. I won’t let that happen. Leave me behind.”
Qaiyaan scowled and clenched his hands at his sides. “We don’t abandon crew members.”
Tovik gestured down the hall with his pulse pistol. “We can’t leave you. They’ll find you for sure.”
“I spent most of my life on Whylon Station hiding from one cartel goon or another.” She nodded toward the stranger. “Destroy the camera. And when you’re done questioning him, it’s probably best if he dies.” She hated to think like the cartel, but she saw no other way.
Pushing to her feet, she ran through potential contacts here on Bolisare. She’d have to start at ground zero, picking pockets and living on the street like she had on Whylon. Only on Whylon, she hadn’t had a bounty on her head. Plus she’d had Doug at her side. How was she going to find him without help? Her vision swam in and out of focus, and she directed all the energy she had into fortifying the walls her nanites had built. She had to stay upright long enough to get off the ship and find a place to hide. Then she’d think about finding Doug.
As if he could read her thoughts, Qaiyaan said, “I promised to find your brother.”
She swallowed and took a step toward the cargo bay. “You already rescued me once. For that I thank you. But I don’t need your help.”
Qaiyaan crossed his arms, widening his stance to block the narrow corridor. “I’m not leaving you.”
All this arguing made it feel like she was standing on a two-g planet. Fierce protectiveness swelled off Qaiyaan in waves, burying Tovik and Mek’s concern, and even consuming the stranger’s oily greed. Only Noatak’s distrust, filling the air around her like a windstorm, pounded against her with an equal force.
Lisa scowled at the first mate. “I’m leaving, Noatak, so stop bombarding me with your doubts. I can barely keep my brain from exploding from Qaiyaan’s feelings as it is.”