by Melissa Good
Partners: Book One
Copyright © 2013 by Melissa Good
Author's Notes
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
About the Author
Other Melissa Good Books
Other Silver Dragon Books
Visit Us On Line
ALSO BY MELISSA GOOD
Dar and Kerry Series
Tropical Storm
Hurricane Watch
Eye of the Storm
Red Sky At Morning
Thicker Than Water
Terrors of the High Seas
Tropical Convergence
Stormy Waters
Storm Surge: Book One
Storm Surge: Book Two
Partners: Book One
by
Melissa Good
Silver Dragon Books
by Regal Crest
Texas
Copyright © 2013 by Melissa Good
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. The characters, incidents and dialogue herein are fictional and any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
ISBN 978-1-61929-119-5 (eBook)
eBook Conversion September 2013
First Printing 2013
9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Cover design by Donna Pawlowski
Published by:
Regal Crest Enterprises, LLC
229 Sheridan Loop
Belton, TX 76513
Find us on the World Wide Web at http://www.regalcrest.biz
Published in the United States of America
Author's Notes
A lot of people asked me—why sci-fi? And the truth is I have been a fan and reader of science fiction and fantasy since I was old enough to go to the library and bookstore on my own. Science fiction opens the mind to unlimited possibilities. All of that reading led me to science fiction conventions, which was where I was first exposed to the power of community. So gratifying to learn that if you were a nerdy person, who loved science and the stars, and reading, that there were so many others who were just like you.
They say our young girls in this country are sadly lacking in “STEM”—Science, Technology, Engineering and Math. (I think) I got my introduction to three of the four from those books with the little rocket ships on the spine and I took that introduction and it shaped how I thought and what I did to this very day.
~Melissa Good
Dedication
This book is dedicated to the North Miami Beach public library, which had to deal with my checking out and occasionally returning most of their collection of science fiction books.
Chapter One
HANDS GRABBED HER and she twisted, pulling against straps that kept her flat on her back. She wrenched her arms to pull them free to fight, her jaw clamping down hard. She shook her head violently, pulling it free from fingers digging for her eye sockets.
It was dark. It was loud. She heard screams and explosions. Nearby there was laughter, and then the hot agony as a knife plunged into her back and she arched away from it.
An ankle came free and she twisted more violently, lifting her knee up and kicking out against the hands holding her down.
“Jess!”
She heard her name. She tried to open her mouth to answer but there was a gag in it. She growled in anger and frustration.
“Jess!”
The voice was suddenly louder and she felt a sting on her arm. A breath after that the darkness mottled and faded and the screams muted. She was out of the dream.
It was light, and quiet, and the air was full of the shockingly familiar scent of home.
“Jess.”
Hands on her shoulders, shaking her. Her body free. Her back laying on a soft, conforming surface.
She opened her eyes to see a familiar face over her, a medic just behind him, pulling an injector back away from her.
Coiled muscles relaxed and she felt a wash of heat, then chill, across the back of her neck as the tranq kicked in.
The echoes of laughter faded away and the sounds of the citadel surrounded her. She blinked, finding the familiarity of the base on all sides, and no enemies anywhere to be seen. “Sorry, Stephan,” she whispered, feeling pain in her throat from what she figured were screams. “Damn it.”
“It’s okay.” Stephan Bock rested his forearms on his knee. “You all right?”
She lifted a hand and rubbed her temples. “Fantastic.” She hiked herself up on the bed and peered around, seeing the muted activity of late watch past the open door of her quarters. Slowly the tension left her and she exhaled, willing herself calm.
“You might want to let Dustin here give you a knockout,” Stephan said. “Got a while before first watch.”
Jess shook her head. “I’m all right. Just another damn stupid ass dream.”
“Okay.” Stephan stood up. He waved the medic out, then waited for the door to close before he turned back to Jess. “Listen, I know it’s tough.”
“Yeah. Too bad they don’t have a wipe for this that’s worth a damn. I’d take it.” She sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, resting her elbows on her bare knees.
Stephan sat back down on the padded stool near the bed. “Thought you were against re-patterning,” He said. “Weren’t you the one who told me only cowards try to deal with their problems that way?”
Jess cleared her throat and looked away from him. “I was. Then I was knifed in the back by my partner and watched my whole team be butchered in front of me. Changes your perspective.” Her gaze flicked up to his face, fastened on it. “I know what you’re going to tell me, Stephan. Get over it.”
He grunted. “You do need to. Not that I don’t.” He paused. “Jess, I’m not going to sit here and tell you I know how you feel, ‘cause I don’t. Nothing like that ever happened to me.” He shifted. “Hasn’t happened to anyone before, that I know of.”
“Great. Another first for the Drake family.” Jess’s face twitched. “Eleven generations in service, always trying to be at the forefront of something.” She straightened up and ran her fingers through the dark, straight hair that fell to her shoulders.
“Well, that’s the point.” Stephan cleared his throat. “As much as we’re bred for anything these days, you were bred for this. Just like I was. Just like Mike, Elaine, and Sandy were. You’ve got a tough mind. You can get past it.”
“Sure,” Jess said. “Just take a little time.”
Stephan nodded. “Good to hear.” He stood and patted her on the shoulder. “Get some rest. We’ll talk in the morning. I’ve got some ideas on getting you re-partnered. Maybe it’ll help.”
Jess merely nodded.
“Okay.” Stephan turned and made his way to the door, unlocking it with a palm press and letting it shut behind him.
JESS WAITED UNTIL she was sure the door was going to stay shut. Then she pushed herself t
o her feet and walked across the soft gray carpet into the sanitary unit, ignoring her too pale reflection in the mirror as she let icy cold water run in the sink and splashed some on her face.
She was tired, but not sleepy, not having any desire to return to the dream world they’d pulled her out of, nor wanting to trigger another visit from the medic. She leaned her hands on the sink and stared at the gray surface, resisting the urge to throw up.
Primitive. She pushed away and went back into the space she’d called home for all the years of her adulthood, a free-form two level room that had her bed and storage space on one side and a curved workspace on the other with a comfortable chair behind it.
On the second level, in the loft, was a small space for relaxing and meditation with cabinets that held her personal gear.
All in shades of gray, blue and sea green, with indirect lighting that lent the space a sense of calm and peace and an almost luxurious feel she was due as the ops agent she was. Jess went to her desk chair and sat down, the surface feeling cool against the back of her thighs and her tank top clad shoulders.
She stared at the door to the left of the exit. It opened into a mirror image of the room she was in, where until her last mission Joshua had lived.
Joshua.
Her outsider partner, with his curly red hair and bright, friendly smile. They’d clicked right off, had the same interests, even liked the same music. Jess often wondered if they’d selected for that when they paired them, but she really hadn’t cared. She’d just been glad they’d bonded. And because he’d been carefully selected and undergone the training, she’d trusted him.
Trusted the competence of the board and the professionals whose job it was to carefully pick the teams and vet the outsider applicants. Trusted that when you were on an emplacement, you knew the people at your back were your family and without doubt.
Joshua had fooled everyone. In his tenth emplacement with Jess, he’d turned and literally knifed her, after sounding the alarm and bringing the guards from the detention center they’d penetrated down on top of them.
She’d watched as they cut the rest of the team to pieces. She would have gone the same way, except they misjudged her strength just a fraction. Just a little. Just enough for her to get loose and free a hand, triggering the embedded recall chip just under her breastbone—just enough to get her hands on a gun and let her bone deep training take over.
Then the screams had been theirs. The last being Joshua’s as he came into her sights and she blew his brains right out of his head with the heavy projectiles, scattering bone chips and blood all over the room.
She spent a moment reliving it now in her conscious mind. They’d given her a commendation for it, but that hadn’t erased the shame and horror, and the sense of deep betrayal she wasn’t sure there was any getting over.
There would be no re-partnering for her. No one would live on the other side of that door, standing at her back, ready to put a blade into it.
No way.
“DOCTOR?”
RANDALL DOSS looked up and saw the proctor standing in the doorway. “Yes?”
The tall, brown haired proctor entered. “Here’s the report you asked for.” He handed over a chip. “And one of the directors of Interforce is here and wishes to speak to you.”
“Interforce? What does he want? Is there some problem with the last set we sent them?”
“I don’t know, sir,” the proctor said. “It’s Commander Bricker. He’s waiting in your office.”
Doss frowned. “Very well.” He got up from the tall chair he’d been huddled in, reviewing the digital scoping system. “I’ll go talk to him now. I certainly hope there wasn’t any mistake.” He tugged his work tunic straight and hurried out of the lab, turning right and moving along one of the curving, well lit corridors of the crèche.
He passed through a steady stream of similarly clad men and women, most with digital pads strapped to their arms and comm buds blinking in their ears. They moved in abstract distraction, only honed peripheral vision letting them proceed without collision.
He reached the grav tube and triggered it, waiting for it to open then stepped into the column of gravity, giving the little hop that started him downward along the curve. He turned and looked out as he dropped, admiring for the nth time the curve of the earth below him, and the deliciously crisp blackness of space beyond.
At the bottom level he triggered the exit and pushed himself into the hallway, regaining normal gravity in the faint bunny hop typical to the crèche and the other stations in orbit. Another few minutes walking and he was at his office, giving his attendant a wave as he passed. “Hear I have a visitor, Gigi.”
“Sir you do,” The pretty young woman behind the console said. She had wavy brown hair and almond colored eyes, along with a delicately circuit traced collar around her neck. “May I bring you tea?”
“Please, and for my guest as well.” Doss tugged his tunic straight again and then palmed his door open, revealing his half circle office with it’s twin bubble windows giving a gorgeous view of the stars.
A tall man in a formal uniform was standing near the first bubble, looking out.
“Commander...ah...Bricker? They said you wish to see me?” Doss waved the door closed behind him. “What can we do for you?”
Commander Bricker turned to face him. He had iron gray hair, closely cropped to his head, and a neatly trimmed beard and mustache that didn’t quite hide a plasma scar across one side of his face. “Doctor.” He had a low, burring voice. “I have a problem I need you to solve for me.”
“Oh?” Doss felt a little anxiety subside. He went to his desk and sat down behind it. “Anything we can do for Interforce,” he said. “Please do sit down. My assistant is bringing us some tea.”
Commander Bricker sat down. “You provide us with resources.”
Doctor Doss nodded after a pause. “We provide you with biological alternative units. For many purposes. I believe you have our service units and recently we provided you with some higher end samples, for low space jet plane piloting.”
“Yes.”
There was a small silence. “They have been satisfactory?” Doss finally asked. “There’s no trouble with them is there? Our programming schemas are very stringent.”
“They’re fine.” Bricker paused, as the door opened and Gigi entered with a tray. He watched the young woman as she expertly poured the tea and served them. She was wearing a sedate sea green station uniform and space boots, and her well formed body was both graceful and assured as she bowed to him. “Thank you.”
“Sir.” Gigi straightened and picked up the tray, then left, closing the door behind her.
“New model.” Doss indicated the now closed door. “That’s a G-G 3200. We’re enhancing our basic service module with some entry level tech programming.”
Bricker nodded. “So you’re experimenting with mixing some of the genotypes. That’s good. It bears on the problem we want you to solve for us.” He sipped his tea. “To state it plainly, doctor, we need you to develop an advanced design for us, but we don’t have time for you to do it from scratch.”
“I see.”
“I need a bio alt I can put in the field as an operative agent. Military.”
Doss straightened up, his eyes wide with surprise.
“I know,” Bricker said. “We’ve told you a dozen times you can’t make a model that will have the independent decision making that’s required. I still believe that.”
“But—”
Bricker lifted his hand to cut him off. “But my problem is this. We had a failure of process. I can’t go into the details. But the result is, we don’t have confidence in a certain process right now and we have an urgent need for an operative.”
Doss stared at him. “Director,” he said. “We can do a lot. But this is...these are still biological organisms we’re dealing with. They’re not machines. They’re human beings.”
“Legally, no they aren’t.”
Doss lifted a hand, much as Bricker had done a moment ago. “Legally, no. But from a scientific viewpoint, they are. Regardless of what our society considers them.”
“Regardless of how we pretend to ourselves you’re not creating slaves, yes,” Bricker assented, in a dry tone. “Let’s not split hairs.”
Doss’s shoulders twitched at the blunt rudeness. “In any case, we don’t snap our fingers and create a program set just like that,” he said. “There are physical, as well as mental structures to consider.”
“I know that.”
“The models we have in production right now are geared to be assistants, to serve, to provide a helpmate. They’re not soldiers. They’re certainly not capable of putting on a uniform and going into battle.”
“Anyone can be taught to kill,” Bricker replied. “You may not believe that, but I’ve been in this business a very very long time, doctor, and you’ll just have to take that on faith from me.” He sipped his tea again.
“But as it happens—the operative I need is not required to do that. They need to be a tech, and above all, they need to be absolutely trusted.”
“A tech,” Doss mused. “Hm.”
“Think of it as a possible new line of business,” Bricker said with an expressionless face. “If this works out, we could perhaps offer you a deal to supply us with this resource ongoing. It would relieve us of a certain responsibility.
Doss licked his lips. “Well,” he murmured. “Certainly we would love to be able to continue our business relationship, enhance it, as it were.”
“I have to tell you this is not a popular decision of mine,” Bricker said. “Many people think it can’t be done.”
Doss folded his hands on his desk. “Director, given time, money and talent nothing is impossible.” He watched the man smile grimly. “But as it happens, there might be a resource I—well, perhaps we could do some modifications. “