by Mara Jaye
I look at everything around us with fresh eyes. We’re in a mine of metamorphic rock and digging for proth. Ha! Everything has a name. We’re surrounded by Blendarians, Gleets, MoNse, and Mwrarns, and I can’t help but laugh again. I know Turkh is a Gharian from Ghar, where the nanos were made. I have nanos! How very futuristic! I’ll have to see if they’re permanent or sadly temporary because I want these babies for forever.
And Earth? I search the database for home. Turns out, I’m a sixth worlder, two rungs up from the bottom of the heap. Yikes! I’m forbidden. While Turkh is picking up his ax, I tease him. “Hey, you’re not supposed to be messing around with me. I’m a mangy sixth worlder, you know.”
He sighs before answering. “I know. It’s a problem I need to solve.”
“Wait. You want to mess around with me? Nice!” The more I learn about him, his world, the Intergalactic Alliance, the more I realize his status in the galaxy. No wonder he seemed cranky when we first met. He liked me even then. “You know where I’m from, right?”
“Yes. Our bond is a serious problem I’m not sure how to fix at the moment.”
The punishments I can pull up confirm his words. The word “bond” triggers a see also in my mind. I can push it off until later, create a task list, start a countdown timer. It’s like having a smartphone times a thousand in my brain. No wonder he seems distracted sometimes. He’s doing some amazing thinking. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that. I had no idea of what being friends with you could do…” I let my words trail off because he’s not here for fun. My bet is a covert job of sorts, and I don’t want to jeopardize anything else for him. Beyond the current messing around with an eight worlder problem he currently has. “We should probably not speak to each other anymore. Stop being friends.”
“Sure. We can start now because being without you would be so easy.” He gives me a grin. “I’ll even let you walk away first.”
He is so full of it. While he was teasing me, I looked up relationship topics on his homeworld. There’s a biological matching based on DNA compatibility. How our two races match up is a whole ‘nother rabbit hole of information I’m dying to go down, but later. Because, it seems there’s a match, acceptance, then union and the Gharians don’t play around. Their unions are for life. I’m sure mistakes can be made, but from what I’m learning, the pairings are deeply biological.
“You’re too quiet.”
And he’s too observant. I can’t help but smile. “I’m…thinking.” Super thinking, which is super fun. I need to thank him for this gift. “You know, what you did back there? It’s amazing. There’s a whole universe of information, and all I have to do is want to learn.”
“I gave you too much.”
I can’t deny what I’ve learned about the Intergalactic Alliance so far. “Yeah, you did. We’re gonna fry for this.” Maybe not fry so much as to be banished to something less than Turkh’s second world. Hell, even a fifth world would be pretty damn impressive to me. A place where people missing limbs could regrow new ones? I could do so much more for my people with such technology.
Which is probably why I’m forbidden to go home. When he’d said I would never return, I figured he meant I’d die here. I look over at him to see him staring at me. I can read his micro expressions. Ah, it’s how he knew I never bothered to lie to him. He’s a human, er, humanoid lie detector. Still, he’s off the charts concerned. I want to comfort him and send a feeling type of thought to him. It’s okay, Turkh. I can hide this from the others. The words have an odd echo as I push them to him.
He falters, letting the ax head fall to the conveyor belt. Pless it all to hell.
I hear his words in his voice. Before I can think anything else to him, he turns back and begins working again. Just wait until we run into G’nar. He’ll pull off my arms, and I’ll deserve it.
I’m a little bit horrified but am not getting the same feeling from him. He must be exaggerating. Pull off your arms? That seems a bit brutal. Have him just kick your ass instead.
Just a kick?
I hope it’s the same concept of only beating you up. Otherwise... I glance at his biceps as he works. Losing those babies would be a damn shame. You’re fine.
He laughs and gives me a grin. While I should have had better control of the nanos, I’m rather liking this.
Me too. This whole intracranial communications, innercoms for short, are terrific. Kind of like earbuds only better because there’s nothing to lose in your car or purse. Hearing his voice in my head is a comfortably intimate feeling. Instead of his words caressing my ears, they’re hugging my heart.
We need to communicate aloud from now on. No more using the intracranial comm.
Are you sure? This is the ultimate in secret languages.
“I am, because we’ll slip up and use it around G’har. He’ll know what I’ve done and honestly? The fewer people who know, the better.”
As I open my mouth to ask what’s the worst that could happen, my new functionality answers me. Exile to a prison planet. “You bet. No one will ever find out from me.” I say this, then thinking about how cool all this new information is, add, “Except, I like learning a ton more, and the no pain thing is great, too.”
“Good. If we don’t alert anyone to your additions, we should be fine.”
No sooner do the words leave his mouth than the whistlish sirens begin. I try to grin at his piercing glare. “Sounds like an early shift change. It’s nothing I’ve done.”
“Uh huh. I hope you’re right.” He follows the others example by dropping the pickax and facing me.
People around us are chattering. I can understand the different languages as they speculate on what’s happening. It’s interesting now that additional facts about each species pop up in my mind. Now I really want to explore the entire galaxy and see what happens. I smile at Turkh. Or, I could hang out with him and study his body. His shirt is dirty. I let my eyes trail a little further south. Pants, too, could use a good scrubbing.
Before I can get lost in fantasies about bubble baths, there’s some shuffling deeper into the mine. People to our far left have started making the trip down before being turning around at the end and coming back to the surface. It’ll take a while before those in the exiting side actually leave the work area. I sort of want to tell Turkh via the link but don’t want to irritate him. Especially when I can feel the concern almost radiate off him like body heat. “I know our reshuffle between surface and underground is about a month or so early.” The number flashes in my mind, and I smile. “Or, an eleventh of a sas.”
He gives me a slight grin because I haven’t drug out the final ess. “Good. I’ll feel better when we’re back to mining, and nothing else is going on.”
So will I. Now that he’s planted the idea in my mind, I wonder if the nanos are the reason behind the early shuffle. Or, if the shuffle is even happening. Turkh nods and I turn around to see the guy to my left walking. I follow him, and Turkh follows me.
I can’t help but fret. What if it’s a full-scale removal of everyone here? It’s been a full day since anyone found a piece of proth. My heart leaps into my throat. What will they do with us? Not transport us home. Leave us here? Execute us? Turkh and G’nar have an escape plan, but I don’t. I can feel my pulse in my fingertips and almost jump out of my skin when Turkh puts his hands on my shoulders and leans forward to say in my ear, “Stop. Whatever happens, I’ll be there for you.”
“Can you be? You have a mission, and I’m not a part of it.”
I feel his lips against my hair as he quietly says, “As long as I’m alive, beloved. I’m here.”
Love and warmth flood me. Not all of the feelings are from me, and I realize they can communicate with more than just words. Sending emotions, huh? This could be fun. When my mind turns to the sexy and I imagine stripping Turkh in slo-mo, I hear his laughing aloud before I turn to him. “Merely a couple of ideas for later.”
“Good. Looking forward to them.”
We turn and
head uphill to the entrance. It’s stop and go with each step making me a little more nervous than the one before. Turkh’s anxiety is climbing like a physical force behind me. I’d like to reassure him about changing so soon, but I can’t. The men here either ignored or tried to hustle me.
As I near the opening, the mineshaft has grown wider and cooler. Every so often, a gust of air flows down the mine, and I shiver from the cold. I always need a few minutes to warm up from the heated lower levels. I want to talk with Turkh using my voice but am afraid of ruining his cover. Turkh? If this is like last time, they’ve brought in new people, and we might be able to link up with your friend.
“He’s more my partner.”
“Oh, shit.”
After a chuckle, he says, “No not like that sort of partner. And, no using the nanos from now until I say we can. If our innercom tripped up security, we need to stop before we started.”
“Are you two the only ones here? And how did they not notice you’re slumming it with us?”
He focuses on something distant and gives a nod. “We are, and the systems around here are automated enough to let us pass. We also have the upgrade in nanotechnology, biological nanites, since current tech scans for inorganic versions.”
Two kinds? Now I need to know how powerful the new type is. “Are you sure I can’t access the information about them right now?”
“Yes. Do it later when we’re safe in the mine or in the fields.” Turkh takes my hand. “Let’s go.”
He’s warm in the cold air. His muscles are tense from the situation and the environment. Nice, and I want to press against him for more than the obvious reason. The talking from everyone here echoes off of the smooth walls. The large gathering area is the most crowded I’ve ever seen. Now that I know more, and think to the nanos that no, I don’t want help from the databases, it’s as if the entire galaxy has opened up for a convention.
Like Kim and her four-leaf clover ability, I spot someone ahead of us who looks a lot like Turkh in size and coloring. Only, his hair is lighter, and his skin is darker. He’s otherwise as metallic, muscular, and menacingly tall. I try not to smile at the idea of being the filling in a man sandwich. Good idea, me being the white cheese between two whole wheat hunks.
“Stop that.”
“Sorry, but you’re both fine as hell.” A rare type of person for here Khscc formerly known as Mr. Lizard blocks my view. I follow Turkh out from around him and to the other Gharian in the building. I didn’t think it was possible, but the man is taller than my guy.
He looks from Turkh to me and back. “Plessing Tunsa. You gave bionans to an Earther?”
Tunsa? Ah, he means hell or something similar. When these two stop broadcasting fury at each other, I’ll need to look up their idea of heaven. Plus, these bionans are somewhat uncontrollable. As soon as they think I need something, they’re on it. I have no idea how to shut them down as much as Turkh wants me to.
Turkh leans toward the other Gharian to hiss, “Just the base ones.”
“Doesn’t matter. You’re dead meat.”
Chapter Eleven
Lin
I really don’t care for this guy acting like he’s Turkh’s boss because as far I know, partner is equal. Not superior. “Excuse me? He did what he had to in order to keep me safe.”
The Gharian holds up a hand. “Hush, Earther. The grownups are talking.”
Rage fills me, and I don’t need any advanced tech to broadcast it. “Fine. I’m out.” I turn on my heel and leave. No, I don’t know where to, exactly, but away from the both of them.
I glance back. They’re talking, and Turkh’s back is ramrod straight. He’s not happy. Good. I like it when we match up in emotions. Other workers jostle me. One young man comes up and asks what’s going on. He’s somewhat clean, so I know he’s new. Plus, he’s a lovely shade of lilac with light hair to match. I’d bet he has purple blood. “You’re in a mining colony.” He shakes his head, and I twist him to see he hasn’t been given a translator, yet. I shrug like I don’t know anything because telling him anything wouldn’t do any good. Plus, my bet is he came up through the avian branch with thin bones. Strong, yes, as in able to break endurance records in cardio stuff strong but not mining for fuel strong.
A fight breaks out to my far right, near the entrance to the translator tube. While I seem to be far enough away for safety, I don’t want to take a chance. I hurry back to Turkh and... The bionans supply me with G’nar. Great. Anyway, just because one of them is a jerk doesn’t mean I need to deprive myself of the other.
Sure enough, the lasers begin, followed by screams, and finally cries for help. The three of us don’t say anything at first until G’nar shuffles his feet and says to me, “You might not be aware of how much trouble you both are in with the Alliance. Turkh’s given up his career, and I don’t know what they’ll do with you.”
“G’nar,” Turkh breaks in. “Enough.”
“I'm just honest.”
He is. After scanning his micro expressions, I sense more angry frustration than malice, arrogance, or even irritation. He and my guy are good friends, and I respect his concern. I also need to pronounce his name like an Earther and not like an Earther with the galaxy’s database in her head. “Thank you, Gunnar.”
He raises an eyebrow and looks at Turkh who shrugs. “She’s not accessing the bionans until we find out why they called us up here.”
Shit. I can’t tell him none of us have a choice because the bionans are accessing me.
“Good.” G’nar faced me again. “How much have they changed in you so far?”
“Ahh,” I try to begin. G’nar will know I’m lying if I even think about fibbing. “Probably too much. I can use an innercom with Turkh, can translate anything, and have access to so much information.” A look passes between the men. “What?”
“How much programming did you give her bionans exactly,” he asks Turkh. “Did you intend to give her so much functionality and access?”
“All I wanted was for the translator they installed to stop hurting her. Nothing more. It was supposed to be a closed subroutine to mute the nerves around the device while keeping the tracker inside.”
He nodded and scratched his forehead for a couple of seconds. “That should have been all it took.”
“But the bionans.”
“Yep. I haven’t had a chance to go through their programming, either, and if you gave it to her quick and dirty?”
I can’t help but snicker. G’nar’s frosty gray eyes narrow while Turkh’s warm black ones shine. “Sorry. It’s an Earth saying and never mind.”
“Like I’d mentioned, if you didn’t go over every line of code, there’s no telling what the bionans are doing to her.”
Before Turkh can rebut, the signal to line up sounds and we’re being herded to the translator tube and divider between mines and fields. I take his hand. “They had every other person go to the mine both times. Maybe we should put Gunnar in between us.”
Turkh shakes his head. “It’s Guh-nar, and from what I’m seeing, they’re doing something different this time.”
He’s right. I’m too short to see the breakdown, though. “All right, we can divide up however they’re sorting us. I don’t want to be alone again.”
“You won’t be.” He leans against me. “We’ll work it out.” I want to take his hand, but G’nar is looking at us as if memorizing every detail. Instead, I just nod and let them herd us closer to the division area. The tube doesn’t come down for those with translators. I try to see ahead. Turkh stands on tiptoes and says back to G’nar, “Looks like they’re going in threes this time.
“Count back to us?”
Turkh squeezes my hand and says, “Yeah. You up or down?”
“Doesn’t matter. Wherever you two are.”
“Which would you want, G’nar?” he asks.
G’nar shrugs, not looking away from the two doorways. “Planetside is colder than in here, but the ground is warm. We’re plantin
g, weeding, or harvesting all the time and the heat rises from the soil.” He shrugged. “I don’t mind working the fields.”
Turkh counts ahead. “All right. Let one ahead of us to make it happen.”
G’nar steps back to allow someone to go ahead of us and I feel like I’ve been watching a tennis tournament or ping pong match. “I wouldn’t mind losing the chance of accidentally hitting proth ore.”
“That’s another thing.” Turkh turned to G’nar. “The proth is running out in our area already. It’s been hours since anyone found something while digging. I don’t see anything in the rock, either.”
G’nar nodded. “When they figure it out, I don’t know if they’re going to start another mine or pick up from here to go somewhere else.”
I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear the answer but had to ask. “What happens if they discover you two are here and, you know, don’t belong?” Turkh frowned at me, letting me know he’d caught my meaning without my having to say Alliance and investigation.
He put a hand on my shoulder and pulled me closer as G’nar answered, “Generally, the lead Vahdmoshi executes everyone and let the guards go to the next assignment.”
An execution? Not good because here and now would be a great place to zap us all with their roving security bots. I look up, and there are several of the little bastards zipping around. We’re easy prey. I swallow the rising bile. “Everyone? They can’t just recycle us for some other shady business?”
A look passed between the men before Turkh said, “Usually, the workers are too weak to survive the trip to another planet. Killing them also leaves no witnesses behind for the recently finished crime.”
“I refuse to believe you all don’t have better gathering techniques. What about fingerprints, fibers, metal alloys? Paint chips? Come on. Stuff a goo packet in your pocket and let’s go find evidence for a conviction.”
“Goo packet?” G’nar looks ahead of us. I hadn’t noticed how close we were to the separation point. “Never mind. We’re in a weak spot in the signal blocking mechanism. Before anything else happens, we need to let the Alliance know what we’ve found.”