On my mark. Opening the command door, Bei stepped inside a closet sized room. Bright, multicolored crystals stuck out of the black walls. He set his hand on the one flashing green in the sensor panel. Ready?
Aye. Chief Rome sent another burst of lightning bolts.
Mark. Bei quickly replaced the green crystal with the red one in his hand. The Trojan program lit up, indicating it went live.
Shang’hai’s laughter thrilled in Bei’s physical ears. “It’s working.”
Bei’s avatar joined the Chief’s in the foyer.
Of course, it’s working. Animated strutting roosters floated around the Chief. We’re Syn-En.
After his avatar locked both doors with the command key, the digital man carried Bei’s consciousness to his body before melting into cyberspace. He opened his eyes and glanced around the cargo bay.
Chief Rome grinned back at him.
Bei shook his head once. The roosters might be gone but the chief’s cockiness hadn’t diminished.
“What is working?” The citizen tugged on his sleeve, her confusion written in the wrinkles of her forehead.
Shang’hai answered the human. “The admiral disabled the Starflight’s targeting systems.”
Bei’s attention drifted to the image of a ringed planet on the metal band across her stasis chamber. Although not quite the same as the emblem on the Starflight’s backdoor, it was too close to be dismissed. He used his ocular implants to snap a picture of the symbol and sent the package to his avatar to run a query through Jane’s Space Recognition Guide.
“So Burkina won’t be able to kill anyone? That’s great!” The human practically vibrated and her smile broadened, revealing a slightly crooked front tooth.
Its appearance shocked Bei. Citizens didn’t suffer imperfections in their appearance, especially when a dental fix involved no technology penalties. What manner of human was she? Before he could ask the doctor to report his findings, Bei’s query returned two results. His gut clenched. Both entries regarded the Terra Dos probes.
“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to chatter so much but I just woke up, then died, then was revived and that crazy woman started blowing people up and… Well, I guess…”
Chief Rome pinged him. What’s with the search in Jane’s?
Ignoring his security chief and the woman’s prattling, Bei opened the first data clip. It contained information about the discovery of the wormhole and the first probe sent to explore the event horizon. While the planet emblem matched, the dimensions of the logo were too large to fit on the initial small probe. That band of metal could not have been towed in their wake from the event horizon. Bei closed the entry.
Rome rolled his eyes as the citizen waved her arms to punctuate her point. Whatever you do, Admiral, don’t let her know about the WA. No one will ever get any sleep.
“Well, I just mean, I know soldiers stick together. No man left behind and all that.” Frowning, she waved her hand, hitting a piece of starship shrapnel that had drifted too close. She grimaced and her brown eyebrows met in a vee above the bridge of her upturned nose. “Or is that the Marine’s saying? I guess it doesn’t matter, does it?”
The unguarded play of emotions fascinated Bei. He felt a stab of envy at another freedom denied him and his kind. When she filled her lungs for another long winded speech, Bei spoke, “No. It does not matter.”
She blinked. Red tinged her pale skin as she looked up at him. “Thank you. For not killing me for forever. I never thought I’d say those words. Then again, I’d never thought I’d be here. I’m in space. I always wanted to go to space, but really who wouldn’t when…”
The Chief’s annoyance flickered through the WA. Does she have an off-switch, Doc?
Bei silenced his security officer with a look. She may tell us why she’s here. A reason other than to save them.
She’s telling us everything but. Rome glanced at her hand still on Bei’s sleeve. His concern flared hot inside Bei’s skull. Think I’ll go someplace quiet, like the receiving area for whining, complaining and recently rescued civies.
Doc shook his head. She’s nervous. I’d give her something to calm her down but I’m afraid of how she’d react.
Bei watched his security chief stride from the cargo bay before switching his attention back to the citizen. She’d changed topics from space and floating and something called Christmas ornaments, but it was the fear, joy and chagrin flitting across her oval face that fascinated him against his better judgment. What have you discovered about her, Doc?
I’m detecting intermittent cerebral spikes which could be due to the meds being incompatible with pure organic tissue. Her tox panel confirms a liquid diet, such as was proposed for long term space flight twenty years ago. Which is odd in and of itself without her titer report.
Bei glanced at her hand. If her titer panel was odd, did that make her a carrier of some disease? While viruses and germs wouldn’t harm their synthetic limbs and organs, it would interfere with powering and maintaining their few remaining organs. On the bright side it would give him a reason to quarantine her. What’s in the titer?
I have seven unknown antibodies and six antibodies of diseases that were eradicated a century ago. Doc straightened the curly hair at his temple. Hell, Admiral, if it wasn’t for her ME571 immunity, I’d say the citizen was placed in stasis prior to the 2010 pandemic.
Shang’hai shook her head dismissively. Impossible. Not even Syn-Ens live to be a hundred and fifty years old.
I said ‘if it wasn’t’, Doc replied defensively.
Before either of them could launch a ridiculous debate over whether or not fully organic humans could live beyond a hundred years, Bei changed the subject. When will you know anything from the flight recorder, Shang’hai?
Shang’hai scratched her fingers through her short, pink hair before holding out the box in her hand to Bei. So far all I can say is this flight recorder is too advanced for the citizen to be from the past. It has wireless capabilities, but none of my frequencies can open more than basic information and that’s in code, similar to the text on her life pod.
Can you unscramble it? Bei asked, unzipping the second emblem entry in Jane’s.
I’ve yet to meet a code I can’t solve, Shang’hai bragged with reason and tapped the square flight recorder against her palm. I’m going to take this with me to engineering. I can run the decoder program while checking the fusion engines.
The citizen folded her arms across her chest and watched his engineer leave the cargo bay. “Are you guys even listening to me?”
“No,” Bei answered.
“Fine.” The force of her sigh blew her blonde bangs out of her eyes. “I’ll just suffer in silence.”
“You have yet to be silent.” Bei prodded her, half expecting a lecture on citizen communication rights.
Instead, she clicked her teeth together and glared at him.
Doc scanned her with his MedPak. I don’t think she can stop talking. Her anxiety levels are extremely high.
The woman held her silence for all of five seconds. “How did you get Burkina to stop firing? You never said another word or left the room or… Oh. You used the wireless array.”
Ignoring the picture of a probe uploading inside his head, Bei focused on the citizen. So much for her being from the past. The WA had been created only sixty years ago. “What do you know about the WA?”
“I know it is a means to communicate between two computers like wireless network, WIFI or Bluetooth, except you all can do it with your cerebral interface kinda like telepathy.” The citizen smirked, obviously proud of herself.
“Then you know the Syn-En are prohibited by law from using the WA except in emergency situations.” Bei returned to the Jane’s article. According to the entry, this probe had been sent through the wormhole to Terra Dos. While orbiting the planet, it had sent back pictures of the lush, Earth-like planet.
Then it had self-destructed and its pieces had rained down into Terra Dos’s oceans.
The hair at the base of Bei’s skull stood on end. How could the debris have gotten from a planet’s ocean back to the wormhole and in the cargo bay of his ship? Could another probe have been sent? Although he’d only heard of two being launched, he repeated the search but received the same results.
Fury slammed into Bei. Earth had lied. The second probe had never reached an alien world. It had collided with the closed end of the wormhole. The United Earth Nation’s Council must have known about the collapse.
The Syn-En had been sent to die.
Bei clenched his hands. There had been rumblings about the growing power of the Syn-En. The purity movement had demanded reforms and this citizen was completely organic.
“Leave,” Bei spoke to Doc.
The citizen frowned at Bei. “Where am I to go?”
“Aye, Admiral.” Doc quickly strode to the door. She’s fragile, Admiral. It won’t take much to get to the truth.
The citizen strummed her lower lip between her teeth and watched his men leave. “Oh, you meant them.”
Bei could almost taste her fear. Despite the ease with which he could read her expression, he trusted only his tech when dealing with citizens. He placed his hand on her chest, his fingers splayed over the swell of her breasts.
Her heart raced almost as fast a hummingbird’s wings beat the air. She glanced down at his hand on her then frowned. “Guess I should have introduced myself before. I’m Nell. Nell Stafford. Ring any bells? The Save Our World Foundation should have told you I was coming.”
Nell. Not citizen Nell. Just her name. Contacting CIC through the WA, Bei initiated a search for the foundation and her government file. “Just answer my questions.”
“And no one gets hurt, right?” Perspiration beaded her upper lip and a nervous laugh escaped in a series of gasps. “I’ll try.”
Bei grimaced. Nell was close to hyperventilating. If her breathing didn’t stabilize soon, she’d pass out. He resisted the urge to release a low dose of serotonin to calm her. Any drug could potentially help her lies come out as truth yet he didn’t want to hurt her. Hell, at the moment, he believed his cerebral implant would fry his brain if he tried to. Yet if Earth had sent the Syn-En to die, why would they send a citizen to save them? For all he knew, she might be a victim too. “State your mission.”
“To help.” Nell raised her chin and looked him in the eyes. Her heart slowed and her breathing became more regular.
She believed what she said. CIC returned no results on the Save Our World Foundation, nor was there any record of a Nell Stafford being born, growing up or working anywhere in the last one hundred years. The Doc’s words replayed in Bei’s mind. Could she be from an earlier time? Impossible, even current stasis technology wouldn’t stop her from aging. “Who have you come to help?”
“You. Humanity.” Nell shrugged. “One person can make a difference.”
Humanity? The men and women on his ship were Syn-En and Civilians, they had few rights in the eyes of the citizens. And absolutely no sympathy among the purists. Something else was going on. He couldn’t fathom that an organization large enough to send someone into space could elude the government. But the government might conceal the truth from him, much as it had the real purpose of his mission.
“Who sent you?” The Syn-En had been told to hurry to Terra Dos with undue haste. If the ships hadn’t encountered so many problems, not even the Oppenheims detonations would have been enough to stop them from splattering against the wormhole’s dead end.
“I volunteered,” Nell whispered. “I want to help.”
Again, he detected only honestly from her. What did her presence mean? And what remained for the thousand Syn-Ens Bei had left behind on Earth? Should he lead the fleet on a rescue mission? Or should he encourage the Syn-En to desert?
If Earth truly had sent them into the wormhole to die, he owed Earth’s citizens no loyalty. The Syn-En had paid for their freedom in blood.
But first, he needed answers.
And Citizen Nell Stafford would provide them one way or another.
We have given you the best body technology can provide.
Use it to protect us from disasters and strife, but remember
underneath it all, you are still subject to human failings.
Syn-En Vade Mecum
Chapter Six
“Are you going to hurt me?” It was a dumb question, Nell knew, but she couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out or echoing around the cargo bay. The admiral had already ordered her killed, why would torture bother him? Fear lodged in her throat, stopping the verbal torrent of moments ago.
“Will I need to?” He turned the question back on her. While his open hand rested below her neck, his thumb stroked her collar bone. Souvenirs of death and destruction swirled around the cargo bay, cocooning them. His gray almondine eyes pinned her, just as his body trapped her between himself and the sarcophagus cutting across her spine.
His touch was not punishing or bruising. Somehow it made the knowledge that he could hurt her all the worse. Would hurt her.
“I’ve been honest with you.” Her heart beat so fast Nell knew he could feel it. The cold sarcophagus pressed against her lower body, leached the warmth from her and made the heat radiating off him seem like an open flame. Her breasts tightened in awareness of his strong thighs against hers. Good God, what was wrong with her? Thinking of sex at a time like this, what had that contraption done to her? Turned her into a man?
The admiral leaned closer, his rugged face a mask of planes and angles in the eerie white light oozing through the cluttered space. Her emergency blanket sarong crinkled under his weight. When her erect nipples rubbed his broad chest through her thin covering and his uniform, his light eyes darkened to the color of storm clouds. “But not completely honest.”
Nell’s tongue stuck to the roof of her dry mouth. She could taste her fear and arousal. Tension coiled low in her belly, but she couldn’t figure out which emotion had caused it. Wrapping her hands around the lip of the coffin behind her, she raised her chin. “Is anyone completely honest?”
Nell bit her tongue. If only she could recall the words as easily. Her mother always said her mouth would get her into trouble. Nell seriously doubted her mother could ever have imagined this in her wildest dreams. Good Lord. How had she gotten here? And what was she supposed to do now?
“No,” the Admiral conceded. His thumb settled in the hollow of her throat. “But I will have my answers.”
“I’ll tell you what I know.” And she would, but she doubted he’d believe her. The fact added to her terror. Telling the truth wouldn’t save her from whatever he had in mind. “Every word will be the truth. Even if you want to know my real weight and age.”
His lips quirked before settling once more into a firm line. His expression blanked, flesh smoothed over his high forehead and wide cheekbones. No laugh lines or crow’s feet marred his tan complexion. “Have you been sent to bring us home?”
A fissure of unease egged on her fear. Nell had seen carved marble with more compassion. “I—”
“You should be warned that I can detect when you’re lying. The slightest rise in temperature, the hitch in your breath and the change in rhythm of your heart.” The hand splayed across her chest shifted slightly allowing his thumb to settle against the groove of her sternum, teasing her cleavage.
The sexuality behind the movement sowed tingles across her skin. A burning sensation began at the base of her skull and engulfed her head, shrinking her skin as it spread. Great, the battle between fear and desire had given her a migraine. “I don’t know.”
Relax. Her mother’s voice whispered from deep inside her head. He won’t hurt you.
Obviously, her mother/conscience had vastly different definitions of hurt. The man had already killed her once. Add to the fact her own outlandish explanation of events and…
Nell swallowed the lump festering in her throat. Her heart galloped like a Kentucky Derby winner fresh out of the
gate. And yet… One look into his shark gray eyes calmed her. He was a soldier. He had rules… Sure they allowed for killing, but not torture. That was if he followed the Geneva Convention.
“You speak the truth.” His finger followed the curve of her collar bone. Gray eyes flashed silver as they focused on her lips. “Are there Citizen vessels waiting outside the event horizon of the wormhole?”
“Wormhole? What wormhole?” Something stirred deep in her subconscious. She tried to grasp the thought, but it eluded her attempts. A jagged panel of metal twirled by on an air current. It spun lower as if to scalp her. Nell flinched and leaned to the right.
The admiral raised his free arm and the scrap spun away into the debris floating around them.
See. Nell’s conscious gasped, with a Eureka kind of satisfaction. He’s protecting you.
“Ahh, you know something about the wormhole.” Setting his free hand near hers on the sarcophagus, he crowded ever closer into her space. His nose brushed hers and his warm breath cascaded down her uncovered skin.
Nell inhaled as he exhaled, tasted the peppermint of his breath. She shivered. His body heat warmed her and his exotic scent of citrus and new car infused her senses. Attraction burrowed under her skin. What was happening to her? Wracking her brain, she tried to make sense of her arousal. Was the stasis to blame for it? Or maybe some space parasite had wormed its way into her brain and seized control of her body, overriding her sense of survival with an imperative to mate and produce children. She’d seen it in dozens of Sci-Fi movies.
Space parasite? Her mother/conscience sneered. Reproduction is not alien to humanity.
Maybe so, but Nell had never felt the urge this strongly. Sure, his exotic good looks appealed to her because she had a pulse, but she’d never been the kind to fall for a handsome face or a man in uniform. Then she felt it, a hard ridge pressing against her belly. If it was a space parasite, he had been infected, too.
The admiral lifted his free hand to her throat, caressing the vulnerable tissue. “What do you know?”
The Syn-En Solution Page 9