Embrace the Passion: Pets in Space 3

by Smith, S. E.

  The com cut, and Aliette shut hers down with a small headshake. That had not sounded promising. She pressed the ship intercom. “Zandro, we’re about to land in five. Are you secure?”

  He buzzed back on the line quick. “I’m in the jump seat in the galley. Ready to land anytime.”

  Aliette smiled that he was still so up on landing protocols. He hadn’t been on her ship in…well, years. She shook her head and toggled the joystick to ready for descent.

  It was a smooth landing on the bare concrete pad, barely a jostle as their landing gear touched the ground. Aliette brushed some sweat off her forehead and grinned.

  “You were showing off.”

  She startled at Zandro’s voice just behind her, but turned and crinkled her nose at him. “Maybe a little.”

  “Ship handles well.”

  “I handle the ship well, you mean.” She unbuckled and stood, turning to face him. She was tall but he had a few inches on her. But he was a tall man. He used to love that about her. That she was almost as tall as him. “Perfect kissing height,” he used to say and then bend down hardly at all to demonstrate.

  She cleared her throat and eased back from him.

  Zandro’s eyes were hooded and dark for a moment, and she wondered if he’d been remembering the same events she’d been. But then he blinked and looked at her, his gaze clear and untroubled, so she was probably imagining things. “I don’t know how long I’ll be tied up before they’ll release the kittens to me—”

  “I’ll come with you to the station.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Really?”

  “Yeah. They might need me to sign papers to depart or something.” That was a flimsy excuse, but she found that now she had Zandro in her sights again she was curiously reluctant to let him leave. Sentimental fool. She secured the ship and followed Zandro as he led her through the corridors and down the gangplank. As the ramp folded into the ship, Aliette keyed in her security code on the pad under her ship.

  Zandro led them toward what looked like the station: a squat olive gray-green building with an ugly yellow sign.

  Even as they approached, a deputy appeared, wearing a boxy gray uniform. “Zandro Casillas?”

  “Yeah.”

  The deputy sagged with relief and made whirling, hurry-up motions with his arm. “Please hurry.”

  Zandro broke into a jog. “Are the kittens all right?”

  The deputy gave an angry guffaw. “The kittens are fine. It’s everyone else.”

  “Hell.” Aliette tossed a glare at Zandro then broke into a run herself.

  Inside the station was chaos. One deputy leaned against the wall, waving a hand slowly back and forth in front of her face, smiling dreamily. Another officer lay prone on the floor, probably unconscious, a pool of vomit by his head. Someone who looked to be the sheriff sat sobbing, tied to a chair and gagged.

  The first deputy who’d fetched them and nodded at the one tied up. “She kept trying to scratch herself. All up her arms.”

  Aliette shivered and rubbed at her own arms with their tracks of pale silvery scars. “That’ll happen sometimes.”

  Zandro’s hand twitched like he wanted to touch her, but he let his hand fall away instead.

  The deputy was actually wringing his hands as he looked around at all of his colleagues. “I couldn’t think what to do.”

  Aliette could only stare around in horror. “I’d ask how many of you are affected, but it seems like a better question would be how many aren’t?”

  The deputy gave a broken laugh. “Me and one other.”

  Aliette glanced over at Zandro. A muscle ticked in his jaw, and he gave a tight, tired sigh. “Are you the person I spoke to on the com earlier?”

  “No, that was her.” He nodded toward the individual tied to a chair. “We called for medical, but we’re a small outpost so there’s only one doctor and her nurse, and they’re in the middle of a difficult birth. They said they didn’t have anybody to send.”

  Aliette swallowed a curse and shoved Zandro’s shoulder. “Go get the kittens. I’ve got this.”

  Zandro nodded, his shoulders sagging as the deputy led him toward the back of the station.

  Aliette surveyed the afflicted officers then rolled her sleeves up. This might be the worst set of bad trips she’d ever seen, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t handle it. She scanned the walls and found a first aid kit near the entrance. Yanking the kit down, Aliette went to triage her “patients.”

  First order of business, she dragged the passed out guy away from his vomit and dumped him on an office couch. His skin was a little clammy, but his pulse seemed fine. The medkit had a few doses of synerge which might help clear the bajo pheromones out of the system faster. She glanced at the other two, trying to decide who might need the dose the most. The lady with the fascinating hands seemed happily lost to herself. She’d probably come out of this feeling a little hungover but no worse for wear. If the unconscious man were showing more signs of distress Aliette might have given it to him, but his pulse was strong and his breathing even.

  Which left the poor sheriff tied to the chair. Her breathing seemed labored, and sweat beaded her temples. Aliette gritted her back teeth, fighting a rush of unpleasant memories that surged to her mind’s eye. It felt like she was teetering over a dark pool, and if she so much as glanced down she’d drown in it.

  She shook her head and seized the dose of synerge. The medical professionals weren’t coming, so it was up to her amateur experience to decide what was best. The poor sheriff tied to the chair was getting the dose of synerge.

  As Aliette stepped closer, she noticed the chair was actually vibrating with the force of the sheriff’s struggles to free herself. Just in time then. Aliette laid a hand gently on the sheriff’s head to hold her still then pressed the auto-inject against the skin of her neck. The med made a small whirring noise as the needle deployed, and the sheriff flinched as it pricked her neck.

  The sheriff’s breath evened out first, and then she sagged against the chair. After another minute, her eyes blinked open.

  Breathing relief, Aliette loosened the gag. “There. You’re feeling better?”

  The sheriff frowned in confusion, but gave a slow, labored nod. “The fire ants on my arms are gone now anyway.”

  “That’s great.” Aliette forced mock cheerfulness into her voice. “You’ll be all right. Let’s just get you untied.”

  The door to the station swung open, and an older woman scurried through the bullpen. Aliette paused, watching her. The woman wore a deputy’s uniform and service weapon, but she didn’t so much as pause next to either of her afflicted coworkers. The woman deputy looked skinny, malnourished, but wiry with it, as if all the spare parts of her had been stripped away to leave only a ragged, whipcord strength behind.

  Aliette hesitated a moment then stepped up to the office doorway. “Were you out trying to get help?”

  The woman froze, and actually half-drew her blaster from its holster as she whipped toward Aliette.

  Aliette ducked behind the doorway and raised her hands. All the time, her fingers itched for her own blaster, tucked uselessly in its safe on her ship. “I’m with Zandro Casillas. We just came to pick the kittens up. He, uh, fosters kittens.”

  The deputy eased back, but her jaw tightened. “You’re here for the cats?” The deputy didn’t sound happy about it. “That your ship on the landing pad?”

  “Yup. And, as soon as Zandro can see the kittens are warm and fed, we’ll be out of your hair.”

  The deputy holstered her weapon, but Aliette still hovered in the doorway, keeping herself half hidden behind the wall. This woman had an angry, nervous energy that raised Aliette’s hackles.

  “Well, if you’re leaving as soon as all that, I’ll just get your take off clearance sorted out.” The woman narrowed her eyes in a social smile that wasn’t much smile at all and ducked out the door.

  Aliette bounced on her toes, pulled in three directions at once: After t
he deputy to make sure she didn’t touch Aliette’s ship? After Zandro to make sure he was all right? Or stay right where she was and help the poor folks affected by the kittens’ overpowered pheromones?

  The choice was taken from her as the poor deputy who’d been peacefully watching her hands waft through the air let out a blood curdling scream. Aliette lowered the sheriff gently to the floor and ran to give the other deputy the last dose of synerge.

  This is what I get for following Zandro on another one of his kitten rescues.

  * * *

  The deputy led Zandro down a bare beige hallway and into an evidence locker in back. “When was the last time the kittens ate?”

  “Um.”

  Zandro gritted his teeth, even as his stomach lurched with unhappiness. The kittens had been with the deputies for hours, and they hadn’t even tried to give them anything. “Have you been keeping them warm?”

  The deputy clearly didn’t like his tone, because he drew himself up and glared at Zandro. “At first. That’s why so many of our deputies are affected. They took turns passing them around, holding them, petting them.”

  Giving them germs. Scaring them. Picking up more and more of the pheromones. Zandro swallowed an exasperated sigh and followed the deputy to where they’d left the kittens. Alone. On the floor. In a packing container. In the frosty evidence room.

  Zandro snatched the tiny furballs out of the box and pulled them both tight to his own body. They were older kittens thank goodness. A newborn might’ve been dead by now after going so long without food and warmth. These kittens seemed sluggish, but one of them raised a fuzzy little head to hiss at him. A good sign. If they were strong enough to hiss they would probably be ok.

  “You don’t have gloves on.” The deputy frowned.

  “I don’t need them. I built my tolerance up for the pheromones. Bring me my bag, please.”

  Watching him with suspicion, the deputy dropped Zandro’s go bag beside him. Keeping the kittens tucked against his side, Zandro fished out a warming pad to heat them up.

  Both kittens were fine-boned balls of fluff with long tufted ears and short tail nubs. The hissy one was the little blue. It was three weeks old maybe. Its eyes were open and its ears weren’t folded down. “I’ll get you food soon, small fry. First we have to get you a little warmer.” The other kitten was sleeping peacefully on his knee. Both kittens had thick coats that would be achingly soft once the dirt had been washed away. Zandro just needed to keep them alive that long.

  The deputy coughed and knelt beside his bag. “Is there, um, anything else I can do?”

  Zandro smiled a little and nodded toward the bag. “I’ve got a bottle of formula premixed in there. Can you put a little into the small syringe for me? I need to get some calories into them.”

  The deputy knelt to complete his task. “I’m Miguel, by the way. Sorry I was so curt earlier, but we’ve never had to deal with this kind of thing before. I mean, they’re kittens. How can they be so dangerous?” He shook his head.

  “This is a new locale for me too. Most of my rescues haven’t been this far. I guess the drug trade is branching out.” Zandro took the syringe of formula the deputy had made and began feeding the blue kitten. “Where did you find these ones?”

  Deputy Miguel folded his arms and leaned against the wall. “A small personal transport was passing through for resupply. Pack of rich socialites. One of the girls went to the local bar with that purple kitten tucked under her arm. I was off duty, but I recognized it was a bajo cat. I, um, I watch your vid channel so I know what they look like. When I asked to see her permit she just blinked at me. She was so wasted. We did a search of the ship and found the blue one hidden under a bunk.”

  “Right.” The little blue had revived as the tip of the syringe touched its mouth, and it greedily chugged down formula until its tiny belly swelled under Zandro’s hand. “Healthy eater. That’s good. So you watch my vids. Do you do rescue work?”

  Miguel scrubbed at the back of his neck and actually blushed. “Well, I want to, but my boyfriend doesn’t love the idea.”

  “It doesn’t have to be bajo cats. Regular kittens need help too. Does this moon have any kind of humane society or animal shelters?”

  The deputy laughed. “If we did, then half the deputies here wouldn’t have overdosed on bajo cat pheromones. No, we’re it for law enforcement, government services. Basically everything. We do have stray cats around the port, though, and the restaurants.”

  Zandro laughed. “Yup. That’ll happen pretty much anywhere there’s humans.”

  “Do you keep all the cats you take?” Deputy Miguel asked.

  “I’m not that crazy.” He laughed. “Most adult bajo cats are actually safe to have as house pets if they’re properly socialized and their owners are careful. As adults, bajo cats can control how much pheromone they release so they won’t dope up their primary caregivers. There’s a registry folks can join if they want to adopt a bajo cat.”

  Deputy Miguel started to ask another question when the back door opened behind them, startling them both.

  A skinny woman with gray hair pulled back in a low pony tail slid through the door. She jumped when she saw them, and her eyes flicked unhappily over Zandro and the kittens in his lap. She wore a deputy uniform, and clapped her hand to her service blaster as if she meant to draw it.

  Zandro’s stomach knotted with unease and an ugly suspicion.

  The woman jerked her chin at Zandro. “Miguel, why is he holding that cat? That cat is evidence.”

  Deputy Miguel wrung his hands, gaze flicking back and forth between Zandro and the woman. “We didn’t know how to take care of the poor things so we…we called in an expert.”

  The woman’s face pinched with anger, her thin mouth twisting.

  Zandro scuffed his finger back and forth over the blue kitten’s head then carefully put first Blue then Violet into his travel bag with the heating pad. Violet still needed a feeding, but he had a bad feeling if he didn’t leave with them now he wouldn’t be leaving at all.

  He zipped his cat carrier closed and put it over his shoulder, deliberately drawing himself up to his full height as he shouldered the bag. He didn’t like to use his height to intimidate anyone, especially women, but for this lady’s case he’d make an exception. He felt unease all along his spine, like little needles pricking. Something was going on with her. Something bad. And the sooner he removed himself and the kittens the better.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Her jaw tightened, and she actually stepped up to Zandro, squaring off with him even though he dwarfed her by more than a head. He smelled cheap dockside booze on her breath, and her eyes were bloodshot.

  “I’m taking my new foster kittens.” He kept his voice steady and watched her shaking hands out of the corner of his eye. She still had one resting on her service weapon. “Your sheriff already signed the release and authorization.”

  “That’s bull.”

  Deputy Miguel cleared his throat. “It’s true. She signed it before the pheromones kicked in and she started hallucinating all those ants.”

  The woman ground her teeth, and Zandro tensed his muscles, ready to grab her if she tried to draw her weapon.

  Aliette chose that moment to pop her head into the backroom. She gusted a breath out, blowing a wisp of hair off her face. “Medics finally showed up with enough doses of synerge. Do you have the kittens?”

  Zandro nodded, still keeping his eyes on the woman deputy. “Warmed up. Fed. They need a flea bath, but that can wait for the ship.”

  “Ready to head out then?”

  “Yup.”

  The woman deputy raised her eyebrows. “Is that right?” But then she gave a high, cackling laugh and wheeled away from him to glare at poor Miguel. “Boy, you always were a fool.” She tossed one more scowl over her shoulder at Zandro and Aliette. “Take the cats then, and get out of my station.”

  Zandro gave her a nod, tensing his jaw as his nerves vibrated with tensio
n. “Much obliged.”

  * * *

  As they left the station and started toward the ship, Zandro clutched the cat carrier like he was worried someone was going to come kitten snatch his prize. Aliette didn't blame him. Ever since she'd seen that sleazy looking female deputy she'd had a knot between her shoulders. She wished she'd thought to bring her blaster along with her, but this had seemed like a sleepy small-town sort of moon. She hadn't thought she'd need it.

  She kept her head on swivel as they paced toward the ship. She should be cycling the ramp open, but she was so keyed up she didn't trigger the command to open it until they were nearly there.

  She waited for Zandro to go first with the kittens then she followed and slapped the controls to shut the ramp. As the ship buttoned itself closed, she felt a little silly and tried to shake off her nervy reaction. OK so that deputy was creepy. No need to be paranoid though, right?

  Zandro had unceremoniously stopped almost in the entryway of the ship, sitting cross-legged on the floor, and she nearly tripped on him as he unzipped the cat carrier and plucked the two kittens out. He had what she recognized as a warming pad on his lap, and he placed both kittens on it.

  “I need to get us off the ground.” She bounced on her toes, hesitating, wanting to help him and wanting desperately to get as far away from this moon as she could manage.

  Zandro waved her on. “Go. Take off. I'm fine. Anyway, I'd rather we get out of here as fast as we possibly can.”

  She didn't know whether to be reassured that he was as edgy as she was or worried. If they'd both read that lady deputy as off somehow maybe there really was something to worry about?

  Worry later, she scolded herself and broke into a jog for the cockpit. She did a cursory check of the ship. A full diagnostic could wait until they were airborne. Anyway, she'd had the security field up. If anyone had tried to mess with her Dulcie she would've known about it.

  The ship lifted off just fine, and Aliette blew a relieved sigh out through her teeth. She gave the sheriff's station a curt salute as they sailed away. “So long, Anteros XII. Hope I don't see you soon.”