by E L Strife
She’d looked over Tanner’s code again early that morning and determined Kyras were essentially the top end of Agutra ships, no fields, armed to the teeth and would probably arrive with plasma pulses hot and ready. And early.
Three were coming, and they’d barely managed to survive one.
The auditorium was packed with bustling shepherds when Atana finally got in line with the others. The Coordinator stood atop the mezzanine, instructing the crowds on the process.
“There will be multiple classification training sessions available. You must attend with your co-shepherd for each quarter designation on your card.”
Bennett shuffled up in the string of shepherds beside hers. “Where’s Azure?”
“Working with the doku,” she grumbled.
He leaned his head back in understanding. So, are we partners? Do I get to go to the conferences with you? He winked.
She produced a timid smile in return as the sergeant ahead of her received their papers. Atana stepped up to the front. A clerical shepherd handed her an envelope.
“Sergeant Atana,” a male voice called from the mezzanine. It belonged to a blue-eyed Command member Atana hadn’t been introduced to yet. “We expect to see you and your entire company, Sergeant Bennett.” The man’s gaze drifted to Bennett’s approaching form on her right. “Azure as well, in Private Conference room 6-PC1 at 0130hrs, post their respective conferences.”
“Yes, sir,” they replied.
Scuttling off to a quiet corner in the main auditorium, Bennett glanced at her card. “What does yours say? Not that you don’t already know.”
“Paper is so different.” Squinting at the lettering, she fingered the delicate, time-wrinkled edges. “Instructor was Sensei Edolin, Rio upon death. My mother was Amora of Earth and Lizra. My father was Tivar of Vioras. Blood type: O+ Human, X Mirramor, and XA negative Xahu’ré. Security clearances: UR: Unrestricted. I am half Xahu’ré, a quarter Mirramor, and a quarter Human. Notes include: Rescue Survivor. Special technical and fighting skills noted. No Serum necessary. You?” She peeked over at his.
Bennett opened his and frowned.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. My instructor was Master Yashina. It lists my father: Jameson Earl Bennett, my mother: Lily Josephine Bennett, and my brother: Jack Roger Bennett, all from Earth. My blood type is A+. Security clearances: URPSA: Unrestricted (Pending Situational Approval). Notes—” He trailed off to press a fist to his mouth, which appeared to soften his groan. “Emotive. Serum incompatibility: requires special formula. Strong, follows in his father’s footsteps. My classification is listed UNK/NCAM.” He shook his head. “How can I be unknown if my family is human? This doesn’t make sense.”
“Maybe when they say ‘you follow in your father’s footsteps,’ they are giving you everything you need to know right there,” she offered.
Golden light broke through the surface of his eyes. He pursed his lips and looked away to scan through the glass to the darkening ocean at her back.
“Jameson,” she whispered. “Command may not know everything. This might be something only your father can answer questions on.”
He slapped the paper mindlessly in a hand. “Yeah. Just wish I could know when I’ll see him again.”
A man walked up to them, his eyes as black as the tactical gear strapped to his streamlined body. “Conference room 6-PC1 at 0130hrs. Off the books. Don’t forget.”
If it weren’t for the fact that he sat beyond the headstrong Dequan at Command’s table, she might not have guessed he was a member. “Yes, Command.”
Chapter 29
SEATS CREAKED as they unfolded in the large Training Auditorium, on Level Seven. Panton and Josie watched the rows fill up with the few people who would get to keep their normal lives as ‘human.’
Panton slumped sideways in his chair, exhausted from running twenty-seven collector drops back-to-back. Beside him, Josie didn’t look like she felt much better. He had something on his mind and dreaded mentioning it. But her safety came first, and they told each other everything.
“I, uh—”
She cocked her head, a sharp, green eye locking on him.
His nervousness made him blurt it out, “Rusty said I smelled too much like you today.” Panton cringed.
“That’s a weird thing to say.” Her brows slammed together. “All guards and their snipers probably smell like each other. We’re in constant contact.”
Icy panic stiffened his body, but he’d dug his hole, and she looked expectant. “He claims I’ve been running my mouth and not working hard enough, that I’m gaining too much weight.” Panton flipped his hands over in helpless exasperation. It was too late to back out now. “My stuff is supposedly always on his side of the bunk row now. Keeps saying I’m too easily angered—”
“When did this start?”
“Since we’ve all been back on Home Station. He bragged his team would be picked for the Agutra mission before we left O.B. Thirty-four. After we were selected, he spread a rumor you and I did something—” Just the idea left his chest warm with a mix of anger and lust. “Forbidden together.”
“What specifically?”
“The worst possible way to break Rule One,” Panton mumbled, mostly out of embarrassment, partially out of disappointment. He’d hoped to see at least a twitch of what he felt reflect in her eyes.
They were as cold and heartless as emerald blades. Josie didn’t look bothered a bit. He had expected her to question him on whether or not he was doing those things. He’d prayed she’d be calm. Now she was, and he didn’t like it.
“CENA logs can prove we haven’t.”
Panton rubbed a hand over the throbbing stitches in his chest sending shots of pain coursing around his shoulder to help block out his anxiety. “Yeah, still. I don’t want people spreading lies about you. Your protection is my job.”
When we came back this morning after I dropped you off at your room, I went back to the guard’s quarters, and my things were scattered across the floor. I didn’t leave them that way. I caught Rusty staring at your picture, tracing it with his fingers.” He took a deep breath. “He’s always lingered over my assignment display, the one attached to my bunk. I’ve noticed him watching us train and sometimes work. I never considered it more than a childish rivalry, one I’m not interested in because it isn’t to Code. Now, I’m thinking he wants to get rid of me so he can be paired with you.”
Josie chewed a lip. “I do not want to work with him. Does Hugo know about this—obsession?”
“Yes. I’ve been talking to him for years because of Rusty’s lack of focus on the job. He goes through sniper assignments like socks. Thinking back, it creeps me out to think of how close he’s gotten to you, and I didn’t knock his block off.” Panton’s nose scrunched in disgust. “Hugo had Rusty dragged out by security. Guess he was off his serum. He’s being seen by a counselor, and they’re discussing the appropriate action since he’s acting like a manic.”
“I’d love to be the one to retire him,” she said acidly. “I do not trust him after Paiken requested a transfer. She refuses to talk about Rusty. Completely shuts off the way Atana does.”
He tapped a finger on her thigh. “I’m glad I haven’t been able to get into S.S.O. I’m picking up on things I didn’t before, like Rusty’s behavior.”
Josie draped her arms over her stomach and slouched lower in her seat. “I’m not sure I’m accustomed to the new system. I mean, they’re sayin’ it’s okay for our team to be off?”
Panton’s heart skipped. “Says who?”
“Rio, when I went to pick up my next batch this morning. He said Command wasn’t lettin’ us go back on, that we’ve become the advocates for human and non-human relations. Everyone else has to stay on serum like usual.”
Panton laughed once to himself. “Awesome.”
She bobbed her head. “When I’m working now, I feel so much more of where I’m at, what I’m capable of.”
His tone sof
tened as he fingered the plastic grip of the armrest, reaching the real question he wanted to ask her. “Yalina, do you think I have any of those problems Rusty claimed?”
“No. If either of us has the anger management issue, it’s me.” Her pursed lips curled in the corners.
“Fiesty and mean are very different,” he countered, straining to hold back his laughter.
She scoffed and gently backhanded his arm.
“Seriously though—” He looked down at her with a quirk of a brow. “Please let me know if my performance in any way becomes inadequate for you.”
Confidence slipped from her face, leaving it pink and her mouth hanging open. “That sounded dirty, Josh.”
A quiver ran through his body. It hadn’t been his intent. But he couldn’t deny the way the words came out. It was. Tell her it was! He couldn’t muster the response in time.
“Hey, guys.” Tanner took a seat beside him.
“Hey,” Josie replied.
Panton casually covered his flashing wristband.
Tanner cocked his head, eyes crinkled as if he were laughing at a private joke. “You’re both embarrassed as cherries. What’d I miss?”
“Nothing much.” Panton leaned toward him. “So, you’re good ‘ol plain-vanilla human too?”
“Vanilla with sprinkles. I’ve got remnant DNA of something Command couldn’t trace, I guess.” Tanner shrugged. “Human is my recognized classification.”
“Glad I’m not alone.” Panton sighed. “I heard a rumor you also found yourself an alien interest. A Primvera no less.”
“I don’t know about— What?” Tanner snapped forward in his seat, looking over at Josie.
She lifted her faded envelope with casual disregard. “Kojaqx.” She shrugged, a sadistic grin splitting her face. “I’m one hundred percent a merciless assassin.”
Tanner threw his head back with a laugh. “That explains a lot. Merciless for sure.”
Stretching across Panton, she smacked Tanner in the gut, causing him to snicker harder.
“Where’s Cutter?” Panton asked, noting the seat beside Tanner was empty.
Tanner pointed up toward the stage, licking his lips. “Working.”
“Thank you all for showing up on time. Here is your briefing: you’re human, the end,” Cutter stated dryly into the mic on his headset. He got a couple of faint chuckles from the two hundred person group for their session, a serum hindered response. “No, really though, we’re going to talk some serious stuff. You are here because you are human, yes. There’s nothing to go over as far as body changes or dealing with adapting to those changes. However, you are outnumbered. There are more non-humans and mixed breeds combined than there are pure humans left on Earth.”
Panton shifted in his seat like most of the others. A fist slid in his direction.
“We’re ‘special edition’ now.” Tanner winked.
Bumping his fist, Panton couldn’t help but cave to the tickle in his throat. “But I want sprinkles. They’re the best part.”
Josie slapped a hand over her face. “Always food with you.”
When her eyes peeked over her shield, Panton saw her hiding a pleasant smile and leaned down to her ear. “Please do that around me in private sometime. I want to know what your happiness looks like.”
Her hand rested in her lap, face blank once again. “Maybe.”
As the shepherd’s whispering quieted, Cutter continued. “Most of them will act like you and want to be like you. Many may choose to stay in their human form because it’s comfortable and familiar. Your job is what it has always been: to protect innocent lives, to stand by your comrades, to be calm and controlled, and honest and fair. Your job is to be there, for them.”
Panton put his arm up and over Josie’s shoulders, pulling her sideways into him. “Whatever you need, you tell me, okay?”
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t go gettin’ all soft on me now. I like my guard firm and relentless, like me.”
A hot breath escaped Panton’s lips, desire swirling around his stomach. “That was dirty.”
Josie visibly swallowed, staring up at him like she’d been hit with a stun gun.
Cutter adjusted his microphone, sending crackles through the speakers. “Sergeants Tanner, Panton, and Josandizer, would you come up and help me give them insight into our experiences working with the life forms on Agutra?”
Panton sighed and hung his head close to Josie’s shoulder. “Back to work.”
Chapter 30
HIS KNUCKLES THROBBED. Bennett released an exhausted puff of air as he slumped into a folding seat in the auditorium on Level Four to await his single session. Resting his elbows on the armrests to take the weight off his shoulders, he opened and closed his hands, trying to relax their swollen tissues.
The punching bag had burst on him, not five minutes in. He’d had to steal another from the supply room to burn off enough steam that he could calmly walk out of the gym. He couldn’t tell anyone how much it bothered him that others doubted Atana’s alliances after what she’d chosen to do, to risk. The image of her coughing up blood in the collector on their way up for the mutiny made him screw his eyes shut.
Bennett had no tangible explanation for his need to protect her, defend her. It wasn’t primal, like with Azure. Command’s charge didn’t sway him. The desire thrummed in his bones, tingled the surface of his skin, and filled his lungs with so much oxygen he felt high around her.
Opening his eyes from the last row, he scanned each individual, their automated greetings and blank faces. He and his team were back in the general populace, the eyes of Command less targeted on them, leaving him with a mix of relief and dread. The upcoming days would determine their fate to every last Earthling and Agutra survivor.
Bennett made sure his team acted far more callous in public than they were. He let his team be honest, and he never reported it. Bennett’s Sanction—the “BS” rule he’d created because the façades were killing him—built a true form of trust amongst them. Their bonds were stronger because their honesty wasn’t evoked by fear or forced by code. It was genuine.
All of this could be destroyed in two weeks if we don’t figure this out. Yet, here we sit, another secret Command’s kept from us, delaying our progress.
He and Atana had gone to her briefings earlier: Xahu’ré and Mirramor. They’d skipped Human with Hyras’s approval and she’d left to work with the Technical Integration crew. Bennett had stood outside, listening, alone. His ancestors were human. Why had Command designated him UNK/NCAM?
Bennett had saved Atana a seat at this session but wasn’t sure she would stop working to join him. To his surprise, and relief, her mahogany hair swung in the doorway, like her leathers: a splotch of color against the black uniforms.
“Not hard to find your aura, even in a crowded room,” she said, sliding into the cushioned seat he pulled down for her.
“I didn’t know if you would make it.”
“You’re my co-shepherd.” She slouched back and sighed. “Agutra needed help navigating the debris field. The Suanoa dumped so much, it’s like we have Saturn’s rings now. We were creating a grid for navigating through the—” She stopped and looked away. “Metal, dirt, and many frozen bodies.”
“Hey,” Bennett whispered, twisting in his seat.
Her jaw visibly flexed when her gaze fell to her lap. “Some things are surviving reentry. We have targeted our primary zone scanners on the skies to send out alerts. The pieces of the abaddon deck, the globules of metal and glass from the explosion, they may make contact. There are so many chunks that we don’t know when or where. The Suanoan metals are different from anything we have on this planet. They won’t burn up on descent.”
“You stopped Earth from being turned into toast,” he reminded her.
Her blue eyes darted up to his. “The purges wouldn’t have happened if I’d never set foot up there.”
Bennett lifted his hands, mimicking a scale. “Billions of lives, or our hundred thousa
nd.”
An eyelid twitched in a restrained urge to blink. Atana’s corneas pinked.
Bennett lowered his voice, resting a palm to her knee. “Stop.”
The speakers let out a rumble as Cutter and one of Command’s staff donned the headsets, catching everyone’s attention.
Sliding back in his seat, Bennett tilted toward her. “It isn’t reasonable to think any one person can save everyone.”
“My name is Dia,” the female on stage lifted a hand. “My designation is Command Support Staff. I’m here to assist Sergeant Cutter with this briefing. If anyone has questions, you are welcome to contact me afterward.”
“Looks like we’re about full-up.” Cutter scoured the computer screen on the table before him. “Missing three codes.” He pointed to the numbers.
Dia leaned over. “I’ll check in on them later, Tanner too. He’s back to work, per Command.”
“I have to try,” Atana whispered in his ear. “And you, of all the beings in this universe, understand why.”
Cutter addressed the crowd. “You are all here because you have UNK or NCAM listed on your classification card. A rare few of you have both. I’m—” He trailed off, clearing his throat. “I’m sorry. NCAM means No Compatible Ancestors or Mates.” He waved his card in the air. “You are the last known descendant of your species on this planet.”
Papers rustled. Seats squeaked and shifted.
Cutter set his card on the podium. “For Unknowns, you do not have a designation because your DNA hasn’t been encountered before. For those of you NCAM, you had a DNA match in the system. However, you are the sole known survivor.”
Bennett listened to the unusual silence of the room. The humans chatted in a manner of discontent. The Xahu’ré tended to grunt and grumble. Mirramor closed their eyes, lacing their fingers together in their laps. He’d stopped by an open door on his way to the gym and seen the Primvera squirming in their seats as if their backs were all in pain, and every one of them had a headache.