“Focus, Rhayne. Get back to work. Check this style off the list and get back to work.”
She sighed again. This is getting to be a bad habit. She started to exhale and cut it short—a conscious effort not to demonstrate her growing frustration and anxiety in such an audible manner. She counted the next row of containers and caught herself daydreaming about cobalt blue eyes and a sexy smile. She started counting again, then shrieked as a hand descended on her arm.
“I’m terribly sorry, Dr. Drake. I didn’t mean to startle you,” the tech droid said, affecting the flat broad tones of an Australian accent.
“Oh, 58. I was distracted and didn’t hear you come in.” Rhayne shifted sideways in the small space to make room for the droid to pass by her.
But it stayed in place. “May I help you find something Dr. Drake? You’ve been in here a very long time.”
“I, uh—I’m taking advantage of so many people being out of the lab today to restock some of my essentials. Do you know where we keep the, um, the centrifuge pumps? I want… I was thinking I’d try a different strategy for extracting the…um…the meristem DNA.” Rhayne silently cursed herself for stumbling over her words. Could she act any guiltier? “I think…I… um—”
“Excuse me, Dr. Drake.” 58 cut her off and pointed behind her. “They’d be across the aisle in the pumps section.”
“Oh, I guess… Well, that makes perfect sense, doesn’t it?”
“I can’t take credit for the organization in here, Dr. Drake.”
“Oh. Of—of course not. I’ll just grab the uh…the pump and get back to work.” Rhayne grabbed a box from the shelf and made for the door.
“Dr. Drake?” As Rhayne paused, 58 took one of the stoppered glass antiques from the shelf and handed it to her. “I think you’ll want this, too.”
“I don’t…” Rhayne looked at the container in the droid’s hand before reaching a hesitant hand toward it.
“It’s Director Truser’s preferred storage vessel,” 58 explained with an exaggerated wink.
Rhayne’s world reeled for an instant. 58 had winked again. It had handed her the very thing she’d been seeking when she walked into the storeroom, all but telling her it was what Truser was using to store his serum. As she took the flask from the droid’s hand, she stared hard at its placid expression. Other than the closing of one optix scanner in what passed for a wink, it hadn’t shown any form of emotion.
Holding the glass container close to her chest, Rhayne remembered the last time 58 winked at her. It had done it yesterday when it delivered tea and a plate of biscuits to her work terminus. Then suddenly, important files appeared in her mail program. Now today, it had pointed her to the very thing she needed to help save dozens of people on Kronos. People Truser intended to use as test subjects for his horrible plot. Could it be…?
“58? May I ask you a question?”
“Certainly, Dr. Drake.”
“Yesterday, I reviewed files on my comm-sys here in the lab.” Rhayne glanced toward the portal, ensuring no one lingered nearby. She was about to admit she’d gained access to lab records in violation of Truser’s directive not to take work out of the area. It wouldn’t matter that she was only the recipient, not the taker. “Last night, copies of those files were delivered to my virtual mail account from an unknown source. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”
“Dr. Drake, what you are speaking of would require very sophisticated equipment. As a simple tech droid, I would not have access to records from your computer, nor would I have a reason to deliver them to you.”
“Oh, 58! I believe you are much more than a tech droid.”
“You are correct. The programmers didn’t erase my memory chip of nutrition knowledge so I can still access that information. But I certainly don’t have any type of espionage programming.”
The lack of facial expression made the droid capable of delivering the most outrageous untruths in a completely believable fashion. 58 could tell her that Santa Claus lived on the surface of Saturn, and because of its deadpan, stoic features, she’d believe the lie.
Rhayne’s shoulders slumped. She’d thought 58 might be an ally. “Oh. Sorry to bother you.”
“You did not bother me, Dr. Drake.” 58 turned to leave the small room but stopped and looked back before exiting. “Dr. Drake? The serum should be red. It will blend better when poured into the Solstice punch.”
Chapter 11
“I’m telling you, Althea. 58 is the spy.”
Rhayne kept her voice lowered as she and Althea stepped off the people lift and proceeded down the festively decorated corridor. They had only an hour to finish distilling the serum, test it, and prepare to break in to Truser’s private quarters.
The plan was to make Truser believe he still had the serum that hastened death for those carrying the p53 marker in their DNA. Without the information that the finished product should be red, their switch would have been evident. Thanks to 58’s help, they wouldn’t need to resort to Plan B and taint the Solstice punch so it wasn’t drinkable. Griffin had the ability to do that since he was designated brew master for tomorrow’s events.
Althea put her arm on Rhayne’s and stopped walking. “I’m willing to go on faith 58 is trying to help. What I’m suggesting—to be safe—is to manufacture two batches. One clear and one red.”
“It has to be on our side. For Titan’s sake, Althea, it even let you smuggle out the portable cellular reader. We need that to make sure our serum works.”
“And that’s another thing—I don’t think you should use yourself as a test subject.”
“We’ve been over this. I carry the marker. Without access to the station’s biology section and their cute little rodents, I’m the logical choice. We can’t just pour the serum in the punch and hope it works. We’re scientists. Our cardinal rule is to test on appropriate control subjects.”
They resumed walking again and reached Griffin’s portal. When the man answered the door, he greeted his mother with a hug before releasing her to grab Rhayne. His arms wrapped around her and brought her near for a kiss.
Slater’s rasping voice interrupted them. “Hey, enough with the romance. We have work to do.”
Rhayne smiled at the promise in Griffin’s eyes as they pulled apart. There would be some serious kissing once Solstice was over.
“How’s our serum looking?” she asked as she walked to the counter where they’d set up the distiller this morning. She hadn’t taken time to change from her uniform and she lowered the zip-pull to make herself more comfortable. She examined the apparatus, tapping on an acrylic tube to clear some condensation before adjusting the ion flow.
During the course of the day, they’d distilled nearly two hundred CCs of liquid. They would concentrate and reduce it to less than half that amount the old-fashioned way—with a little heat.
Althea pinned Rhayne with a look as she began preparing the red buds Rhayne had collected from the farm this morning to make a dye for the serum. “Rhayne is convinced 58 is responsible for sending her the files. Because the damn droid winked at her.”
Rhayne defended herself. “Hey, it also told me which beaker to grab and that the serum should be red.”
“Deke, have you ever heard of an eSpy-bot going undercover?” Althea asked.
Slater mulled the question over. “I haven’t, but a gifted programmer can make a droid do whatever they want it to. I wouldn’t put it past someone, somewhere, to plant an observer. The Business Coalition is crooked all the way up the chain. No one trusts anyone else, so I could see them planting spies. In our case, it may work to our advantage.”
“Only if the intel is good,” Griffin said.
Rhayne straightened away from the makeshift still and glanced at her new friends. “I’m willing to go on instinct here. 58 is on our side.”
Deke nodded. “Trusting my gut kept my squadron alive during the colonial wars on Mars. If Rhayne says 58 is our friend, I’ll go with that.”
&n
bsp; Griffin agreed, “Works for me.”
Althea threw her hands in the air. “I give up. But Rhayne, I still want you to prepare two beakers. One colored and one clear. Just to be safe.”
“I will.” Rhayne responded. Before she’d left the storeroom this afternoon, she’d grabbed an extra container then re-ordered the remaining inventory to hide the fact two bottles were missing. “I’m ready to test this now. Althea, are you ready to take a baseline on the cell reader?”
“Yes, but I still think this is bad idea.”
Rhayne pulled the zipper all the way to her waist, revealing a gray undershirt. She slipped her arms out of the uniform then tied the sleeves around her hips. “If we had another choice, I’d agree. But we don’t have many options here. Unless you carry the marker?”
“You know I don’t. And if I don’t, Griffin doesn’t either. Should we test Deke?”
“He’s vital in getting us into where we need to be tonight to replace the serum. He isn’t a good choice.” Retrieving a small UV pen, she flashed the light over the crook of her elbow, sanitizing her skin.
Griffin held up a hand, halting their argument. “Wait. What are you two talking about? What are you doing, Rhayne?”
“Rhayne is going to use herself as a control subject. She plans to inject the serum to see if it works.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Griffin shouted. The incredulous look on his face stopped Rhayne from reaching into her other pocket for the injector she’d smuggled out of the lab. “That’s crazy, Rhayne. We don’t know if this will work. It could kill you.”
“We need the baseline, Griffin. I have to test it on a live subject to be sure it works before we dump the serum into the punch and potentially kill everyone. The idea is to save lives,” Rhayne explained in a patient voice.
“Yeah, but you don’t have to be the guinea pig.”
Deke interrupted, “She’s the only one of us who can.”
“Shut up, Slater,” Griffin said rudely. “Your nose does not belong in this.”
“Sure it does. I’ve stuck my neck out for this little adventure and my ass is on the line as much as anybody’s.”
“Your ass—not your life,” Griffin responded, fists clenched at his sides.
“Griffin, stop.” Rhayne walked over to his side and laid a calming hand on his chest. “I’m the only logical choice as test subject. I don’t believe the serum will kill me. I built the formula, and at worst, any reaction might just seem like a bad case of food poisoning. We run that risk daily with the Djinns.”
“I don’t like it—” Griffin started to argue.
Rhayne cut him off. “Griffin, I have to do this. This disease killed my dad. It could kill me. I’m not asking you to let me do this. I’m telling you I am doing it. I’m convinced it’s the right thing.” She stood on her toes and kissed him, rubbing her hand affectionately across his bald head. “I’ll be okay.”
Rhayne joined Althea by the table and thrust out her arm. Althea waved the reader slowly over her exposed skin and tapped in several notes as data spewed out on the display.
“There it is—the p53 marker. I’ve got the bio-sys readings noted,” Althea said, looking at Rhayne.
“Good. We’ll know where to go for new readings once I inject the serum.” Rhayne sat down in a chair and grabbing the inoculator as Griffin stepped closer. “I know we plan to have the revelers drink this, but I need to get it into my bloodstream faster. I’m going to inject it, which means the change should occur in minutes.”
She filled the medicinal cylinder with a miniscule amount of serum and positioned it on her arm. Griffin reached out and stilled her hand before she could push the digital plunger. He took the seat next to her. Rhayne looked up into his eyes, waiting for him to speak.
“Rhayne, I… You’re sure this formula will do it, right? No doubts at all?”
“No, Griffin. I’m not one hundred percent sure. But my best guess, my gut, is telling me I’m right. My guesses are usually good. This will work.”
“Okay, then,” he said, putting his own thumb over hers on the plunger. “You better be right. You owe me a kiss under the mistletoe. Oh Hades, why wait.” He crushed his mouth to hers and pressed their thumbs down. Rhayne gripped his elbow but didn’t break the kiss. The serum stung as it entered her body. He traced her lips with his tongue until she opened them, like the bud of the mistletoe flower opening to welcome the sun. Heat flashed through her as he gained entry to her mouth and teased her tongue with his. He pulled the inoculator from her hand and set it aside. He prolonged the kiss as his hand returned to tangle in her hair.
Rhayne’s body was incredibly light, as if floating on a cloud of warmth…tethered only by Griffin’s soft, delicious lips. Heat suffused her, enhancing the buoyant feeling, making her forget there were others in the room. She trembled in delight as Griffin deepened the kiss, putting his hands on her cheeks. His hand moved to her forehead. He broke away from her, uttering a curse. “Rhayne, you’re burning up.”
She tried to force her eyes open. As abruptly as he ended the kiss, she still glided on a cloud of feeling. Her brain reeled as if tumbling freely in her head. She felt…
“Dizzy. Griffin, I’m so dizzy.” Rhayne put her hand to her head and drew away as the scorching heat assailed her. “So hot. Must be a reaction to the serum.”
“Mom, do something!”
Rhayne registered the panic in Griffin’s voice. She felt Althea’s hand grab her wrist and identified the hum of the reader as the older woman waved it over the bare skin of her arm.
“I might have under-estimated reaction time with injection. I need to lie down.” Rhayne tried to stand, but her body, feeling boneless, refused to cooperate. She sensed hands supporting her to the ground and knew someone had placed a pillow under her head, but she didn’t feel anything. She was numb from head to toe.
Soaring through air, her body stretched out on the floor below. And she really liked the feeling.
“Her temperature is high, but not life threatening.” She heard Althea’s voice, muffled by the clouds surrounding her. “Rhayne’s other life signs are strong. She’ll be fine.”
“Now is not the time to start lying to me, Mom.” Rhayne smiled at Griffin’s voice, then frowned as the meaning of his words sunk in. She’d hoped she meant enough to him that he would be concerned, but hearing the distress in his voice made her feel bad. She tried to shake her head, to let him know he didn’t need to worry. She couldn’t seem to control her motor functions, her mind completely disconnected from her body. This is why she refused the induced sleep on transports. No control.
Doctors had long ago discovered that patients in comatose conditions heard everything said around them. They felt touches and sensed motion, but their physical state left them unable to manifest movement or verbalize thoughts.
This must be what it felt like to be in a coma.
Except her eyes were open. Now, instead of looking down at her body, she was staring up into Griffin’s concerned face. She wasn’t floating anymore.
“Her temperature’s coming down.” Rhayne heard the hum of the reader and a chirping noise as Althea completed the scan. “Oh, my Titan! Griffin, Deke, it’s working. The p53 marker is mutating. It’s repairing itself.”
Rhayne felt her spirit lock back into place in her body and smiled. She had to clear her throat before she could force words into her mouth. “That was a helluva kiss, Griffin. I guess mistletoe really works.”
Griffin, Deke, and Althea looked at her in stunned silence for a moment then burst out in excited laughter. Griffin pulled her into his embrace. When she tried to return the embrace, her arms tingled as newly repaired genes sent electrical pulses to her nerve endings. She grimaced. It prickled pins and needles, the way a numb limb did as it awoke.
“Your theory was right, Rhayne. It worked,” Althea babbled wildly. “The serum you created will alter the DNA genotype to cure people of neoplastic disease. You’re completely free of the marker now.”
“The serum we created, you mean. I couldn’t have done it without all of you.” Rhayne grinned at her companions as Griffin helped her up. Her legs trembled and she stamped her feet to hasten feeling back to them. “Although, I have to say, I wouldn’t recommend injection as a delivery method for the serum. I’m sure ingestion will lead to less symptoms. I thought I was flying.”
“You had me scared for a moment,” Deke said.
Rhayne chuckled as she brushed hair off her forehead, pleased to feel no sign of the fever that had consumed her only moments ago. “Let’s bottle this up and make the switch. It’s time to destroy Truser’s version of the formula.”
* * * *
Griffin pinned his attention to the door when Truser slithered through. Tapping his earpiece, he linked to Slater. “He’s here. Claymont is with him.”
While waiting for a response, he wiped liquid spots on the bar’s surface. Truser and his companion skirted around occupied tables and headed into the dimly lit back half of Ma’Jut.
“Copy that. Meet you in ten.” Slater’s reply was brusque. Who would have guessed he and the jarhead his mother had coupled and uncoupled with would ever have been on the same side? Griffin reached up as if to scratch his ear and surreptitiously tapped twice on the small bit of plastene secreted inside. Message received.
Slater had recruited six members of his security squad to assist them. The team had claimed a spot about twenty feet from Truser’s table. Their instructions were to observe the suspects. If it appeared they were preparing to leave before Griffin returned, they were to create a diversion to detain Truser and Claymont. Slater had been very clear when he and Griffin had met with the Marines; render the director unconscious if they had to but do not let him leave.
One of the Marines bent to check the clasp on his boot. Griffin could see his lips move as if talking to someone. Slater must have updated the team.
Mission: Mistletoe Page 10