“I’ll get one.” Loki turned to go.
“Do that,” Boone said. “And tell Mom to sim her something hot to drink. Some coffee or hot tea or something. She looks like she needs it.”
“She needs more than that.” Loki threw the girl an unfriendly glance as the silver door whooshed shut behind him.
It was obvious the Erian already hated her and Boone couldn’t say that he blamed the man. Loki’s touch partner, Chall, had been one of the first to die when the Paladins had come in with guns blazing. Loki and Chall hadn’t been life bonded and had fought like cats and dogs most of the time but there had been genuine affection between them. And without the other man Loki was crippled. I’ll have to keep an eye on him. Wouldn’t put it past Loki to try and get some kind of revenge. Nothing fatal—he knew what Boone needed the Paladin for. But still, Erians could be tricky.
The girl stirred weakly against Boone’s chest and he looked down at her. “You okay, darlin’?”
“My squad…where are they? Are you holding them in other rooms?”
“Your crew is dead.” Boone said, more harshly than he’d intended. “Don’t worry though, they took a few of us with them. That should make you feel better.”
Her strange eyes flashed. “No, what would make me feel better is to purge the whole lot of you.”
“That’s what you were coming to do, wasn’t it?” He shook his head. “You know, when we bought this Erian ship at the scrappers to use for bait, I didn’t think it would work. I didn’t really believe you’d attack us just because we were different.”
“Erians are depraved.” Her voice was cold and impersonal, as though she was reciting dogma she’d been taught from an early age. “They deserve to be purged. Other races can be subjugated but the Erian ways—”
“What do you know about our ways, Purist?” Loki had returned. In one hand he held a white thermal blanket and in the other, a mug full of steaming liquid.
The girl glanced at him dispassionately. “I know that you touch each other all the time—your whole planet is contaminated. And you…” She swallowed hard as though fighting down revulsion. “You reproduce sexually. Disgusting.”
Boone stared down at her in disbelief. “You think they should be wiped out because they have sex? How the hell do your people reproduce? The whole damn planet can’t be abstinent or you’d have died out cycles ago.”
Loki answered for her. “Purists are genetically engineered and grown in artificial wombs. These huge fucking grow-tanks that hold something like a hundred and fifty babies at once.”
“The upper limit of fetus distribution is fifty-five and that is only for workers,” the girl said, frowning at him. “There are never more than thirty for my own kind—Paladins. How do you know so much about my world anyway?”
“Because I escaped from one of your genetics labs after being captured in the Pan wars. So I know exactly what you’re capable of.” Loki threw down the thermal blanket and slapped the mug on the table with a thunk. Steaming brown liquid sloshed over the side and onto the floor. “There.” He glared first at the girl, then at Boone. “Get Mom to help you with her. I’ve had enough. Murdering Purist bitch.”
Boone blamed himself for what happened next. The Paladin had been quiet and limp against his chest for so long that Boone had loosened his grip. She seemed so fragile without the suit—like a bird that might break its own wings trying to get free of him if he wasn’t careful. But now she demonstrated that all the rumors he’d heard about the Paladins’ training were true.
Suddenly she launched herself from his arms and lunged for Loki. In one smooth move she plucked the ceremonial gogi dagger from the sheath he kept at the back of his belt and aimed it for her own heart. She thumbed it on and a faint popping and crackling broke the sudden silence of the room as a blue energy field enveloped the dagger’s copper blade. The blade was razor sharp, Boone knew, but it didn’t really have to be. The energy field would melt through flesh as though it was snow. The Paladin was going to kill herself and if she died, his last hope would die with her.
“No!” he shouted and dived for her. He was certain she was going to do it—the blade’s deadly blue field was poised right above her heart.
But for just an instant, she hesitated.
It was enough. Boone slammed into her and wrapped one arm around her waist, securing her free hand to her side. At the same time he grabbed the hand holding the knife and squeezed.
“Drop it,” he said quietly in her ear. “Just drop it now. Why the hell are you trying to kill yourself anyway?”
Loki answered for her again. “Because you touched her.”
“What? But you told me to touch her. And it helped.”
“Physically maybe. Mentally and emotionally you’ve just given her a hell of a shock. You may as well have raped her.” Loki gave the girl a nasty smile. “She’s contaminated now—she’s been touched by one of the Impure. Of course she wants to die.”
“Damn it, Loki!” Boone growled, really pissed now. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me any of this before?”
The Erian shrugged, a liquid, graceful gesture. “What difference would it have made? You had to touch her to save her and now you’re going to have to keep touching her if you want to keep her alive. It’s going to be a living hell for you, isn’t it, sweetheart?” He leered at the girl and plucked the gogi dagger from her numb fingers. “I’ll see you two later. Have fun getting to know each other.”
Chapter Three
“What’s your name, anyway?” Boone asked her.
They were sitting in the mess hall side by side on a bench drawn up to the large communal table. The thermal blanket was draped around the girl’s shoulders and her hands were bound in front of her with soft but completely unbreakable plasti-seal restraints. Boone had seen to that himself—he wasn’t about to have a repeat performance of what had almost happened in the medlab.
Mom, the ship’s navigator and all-around mother figure to everyone on board, was humming to herself as she bustled around the far side of the room. Her dark brown hair with a wide streak of silver running down one side and her huge silver-brown eyes denoted her as a resident of Pan. The fourth planet from the Promethean sun had been occupied and its population either purged or subjugated during the Pan Wars by Purists twenty cycles ago. Boone knew, though she didn’t talk about it much, that Mom had lost most of her family in the wars when she was younger. Yet she was at peace, even with a Paladin sitting in the same room with her. She had given the girl one long appraising glance when he first brought her in and then went back to her kitchen duties.
“Your name?” Boone prompted the shivering Paladin again. He wondered if Loki was right and he was going to have to touch her on a regular basis in order to keep her healthy. He really hoped not—she might be a murdering bitch but he wasn’t a sadist. He didn’t want to do anything to her that she didn’t want done. But how screwed up must her people be if they equated a simple touch to rape? Pretty damn screwed up, he thought, watching her. She shrank away from him as though he had the damn Frellian plague if he moved so much as an inch in her direction.
“Why do you want to know my name?” She stared straight ahead, clearly reviewing her options. Probably plotting to get away from him and go for another weapon. Boone made a mental note—he wasn’t going to let down his guard around her again.
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “We’re going to be together awhile. We might as well get to know each other.”
She gave him a look that was colder than space. “I don’t want to know you and I’m certain you don’t want to know me. What I would like to know is why you lured me and my squad here in the first place.”
“If you weren’t so damn bloodthirsty it wouldn’t have worked,” Boone countered. “Loki was right—you damn Purists can’t resist the urge to kill anyone who isn’t your own kind. Why is that?” He frowned at her, genuinely curious. The odd religious sect which had grown to encompass the entire planet of
Athena was still something of a mystery to him, their genocidal tendencies darkly fascinating.
She spoke in a monotone. “You are one of the Impure. You must be purged or subjugated so that we can spread the light of Purity to the solar system and the universe beyond.”
“So this is some kind of a holy war? You believe that no one but you is fit to live?”
“I believe in Purity.” She raised her chin. “You’re impure and now you’ve contaminated me. Why are you even keeping me alive? Why not kill me too?”
Boone felt his jaw clench in frustration. “Because I need you, damn it.”
She arched one eyebrow and gave him an infuriatingly cool look. “You need me?”
“Not you specifically—just a Purist. Someone…very dear to me was captured by pirates and taken to your damn pshalite mines. Nobody but a Purist can get in and get her out again. I know—I’ve tried.”
The Paladin stared at him blankly. “You killed my squad and invalidated my entire existence. What makes you think I’d help you?”
Boone leaned closer and gave her a hard stare. To her credit she didn’t flinch away this time despite his proximity. “Because you want your suit. Want it badly. You might not mind dying if you can’t get it back but you sure as hell don’t want to live without it and the drugs it pumps into you, now do you?”
She was clearly surprised though she tried not to show it. “My skinsuit supplies me with nutrients and hydration. That’s all.”
“No, that’s not all. I’ve been studying it. It’s one of the most ingenious biomechanical hybrids I’ve ever seen. A living organism you can wear. It manufactures all kinds of chemicals to inject you with—you’ve got your own personal pharmacy everywhere you go.”
“That isn’t true—it can’t be.” But a look of uncertainty had crept across her blank features. Boone pressed his advantage.
“It is. That damn suit’s been pumping you full of drugs and emo-dampers for however long you’ve been wearing it. Loki says you Purists never take them off—when did you first put the damn thing on, anyway?”
“When I was nine cycles old but that’s irrelevant. My suit nourishes and shields me—it has nothing to do with anything else.” The uncertainty on her delicate features was replaced by stubbornness. “You’re just trying to demoralize me. Well, it won’t work.”
Boone grinned at her. “Face the truth, darlin’. You’re an addict and that damn suit is your pusher.”
The Paladin stiffened. “Don’t call me your insulting nicknames.”
Ah-ha, a chink in the armor. “Tell me your real name then,” he challenged.
“Fine. It’s K, Commander K to you.”
Boone frowned. “That’s it? Just Kay? Is it short for Katherine or Katrina? Maybe Katie?”
“No, K as in the eleventh letter of the old alphabet. There were twenty-six in my birthgroup and I was the eleventh to be taken from the artificial womb.”
Boone raised his eyebrows. “You mean there are twenty-five more like you?”
“Not like me, no.” She lifted her chin proudly. “Of my birthgroup, I have progressed the farthest. I am a fourth level Paladin and command my own purge squad—or I did before you killed them.”
“But I mean, they look like you? You’re all identical?” It was hard to fathom but she was already shaking her head and frowning slightly, as though maybe Boone had hit on something that bothered her.
“Well…no. The others in my birthgroup are shorter than me and their features are different as well. But it happens sometimes that one stands out from the group. It’s not that unusual.”
Boone barked a laugh. “I gotta tell you, K, from where I’m sitting just about every damn thing about you is unusual. If by unusual you mean completely fucked up.”
She looked away from him. “I refuse to have this discussion with you.”
“Here, Boone, do something else with your mouth besides flapping you jaws.” Mom pushed a steaming mug in front of him. “And you too—can you manage with your hands tied?” she asked, putting a similar mug in front of K.
“I’ll help her,” Boone growled. “Not that she deserves it.”
“Hush. Leave the poor little girl alone.” Mom slapped him lightly on the shoulder. She was a tiny woman—barely a meter and a half—so Boone completely dwarfed her, but unlike many other littles, she had never given any indication that his size bothered her. It was one of the many reasons he liked her so much. That and the fact that she was always so calm, unlike Loki who was a damn drama queen.
“This ‘poor little girl’ is a cold blooded killer, Mom,” he protested. “She’d shoot you as soon as look at you if she could get her hands on a pulse pistol.”
“Oh I know that.” Mom gave K another of her long, appraising looks. “But she was raised to it. And didn’t you just say she was on drugs all this time? People do terrible, crazy things when they’re taking drugs.”
“She wasn’t so much taking them as being constantly injected with them,” Boone said grudgingly.
“Well, there you go then.” She nodded at him. “Now drink up.”
Boone sighed and nodded at the mug in front of K. “You want me to help you?”
She frowned at the contents of her cup. “What is this? Some kind of nutrient drink?”
Mom burst out into surprised sounding laughter. “Why honey, that’s hot chocolate with marshmallows. Don’t tell me you’ve never had hot chocolate before—it’s a recipe from Earth-that-was. Any food simulator worth its salt can make it.”
“We have nothing like it on Athena.”
“Well then you’re in for a treat. I’ve never met anyone yet who didn’t like it. Go on, Boone, help her take a sip.”
“All right.” Scowling, he lifted the mug to her lips. “Careful, it’s hot and I might not feel too bad if you got burned.”
“Boone!” Mom sounded shocked. “You took an oath to heal people.”
“I did heal her. I stitched her up and carried her around like a Goddamn baby until she was able to walk without falling over. For which she repaid me by grabbing Loki’s gogi dagger and trying to off herself.”
“She was upset—you would be too in the same situation.” Mom nodded at the apparently impassive K, as though to illustrate her point. “Anyway, it’s over now.”
Boone scowled even more. “No, it’s not. According to Loki we’re just getting started though I hope to God he’s wrong. But in light of the trouble she’s already given me, I think K here will live if she burns her tongue.”
“You’re incorrigible.” She slapped him on the shoulder again and smiled. Then she nodded at the girl. “Go on, K honey, try it.”
K sniffed the dark brown liquid suspiciously. “It smells nothing like a nutrient drink.”
“Go ahead,” Mom urged again. “It’s not poison, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Boone barked another laugh. “She’d probably drink it down and ask for seconds if it was since she’s so hell-bent on killing herself. Or maybe she doesn’t want to die as badly as she claims.” He raised an eyebrow at K. “That right, darlin’?”
His mocking tone seemed to grate on her because she lost her impassive look for a moment and glared at him. “I fear nothing. I feel nothing.”
He frowned. “What is that—some kind of a motto?”
“It is the Paladin’s code. We live and die by it.” Lowering her head, she took a big sip from the steaming mug. Then she raised her head, frowning. “It’s so sweet.”
Boone couldn’t help grinning at her startled expression. “Of course it is. Why do you think we drink it?”
“Not for nutrition, I’d guess. This can’t be good for you.”
Mom laughed. “Not for your body, maybe. More for your soul. Hot chocolate is comfort food—or comfort drink, in this case I guess.”
“How is having a mouthful of too much sweetness comforting?” she asked, sounding honestly curious.
“It’s soothing,” Boone put down her mug and
took a sip from his own, much larger one. Seeing her confused expression, he tried to explain. “The creamy liquid running down your throat and warming your stomach. The heat of the mug in your hands. Knowing that someone who cares for you made it.” He smiled at Mom and she smiled back and patted his arm. “Unless you don’t have anyone who cares for you, which is just sad,” he added, looking at K.
Mom shook her head. “Now, Boone, just hush up and let the poor girl drink her hot chocolate.”
K stared at them, her head cocked to one side as though she was trying to understand a foreign language. “Excuse my inquisitiveness but I cannot help noticing that the chain of command on your ship appears to be completely off-kilter.”
“Oh?” Boone put down his mug. “How so?”
“You are clearly of higher rank while Mom is relegated to nutrition duty—yet you don’t reprimand her for giving you orders. If one of my subordinates spoke to me as she speaks to you I would punish him or her severely. Why do you tolerate such behavior?”
“Well for one thing, we’re all equal on this ship. And Mom isn’t just the cook—we take turns with that by the way—she’s also our navigator.”
“And a priestess of Gaia, if you feel in need of spiritual counseling,” Mom put in.
“My people don’t recognize foreign deities. Only Purity can cleanse the universe and make it whole.” K bowed her head briefly as though in silent prayer, then looked up again. “I still don’t understand why you talk to each other the way you do.”
“We’re teasing each other.” Mom ran her fingers playfully through Boone’s hair and he grinned at the ticklish sensation and gave her a one-armed hug.
“We’re making jokes—you know.” He raised his eyebrows at K. “Don’t your people have any sense of humor?”
“Humor is the first emotion to go when a Paladin begins his or her training,” she said stiffly. “I do not find that I miss it.”
“Oh honey, I think that’s just the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.” Mom looked close to crying. “You really don’t have any feelings?”
“Almost none, which is as it should be.”
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