BioCybe

by Imogene Nix

  “No. Not now. Please. I just need…”

  Sandon narrowed his gaze, assessing her reactions. How the hell could he give her what she wanted if she didn’t even seem to understand the emotions that drove their encounter?

  She spun on her heel, tossing an “I’ll see you in the morning,” at him as she marched through the door.

  No matter that he wanted to grab her, he held himself rigid. Following her and demanding an explanation, or anything else, would undo all the good he’d done. And compound the mistakes he’d made.

  Chapter 4

  The shuttle flew smoothly under Levia’s careful instruction. Each move considered and weighed in the split second before she acted. Her whole focus was to get down to the benighted planet in one piece. Sandon had requested she stay for the negotiations and she’d agreed, though in all honesty, it had taken every ounce of willpower to do that.

  “So, what will you do while I’m in the meetings?”

  She didn’t look at him, her face a hard mask as she tried to ignore the reality that she was heading down to Omega V sort-of voluntarily.

  “I have some handbooks to study, then I’ll run some training exercises.” If she kept the answers cool and remote, maybe he’d stop talking so she could just invest every ounce of her attention on the shuttle.

  “Really? You won’t go sightseeing?” He sounded incredulous, but his words were like cold daggers, slicing at her.

  Go sightseeing? If only he knew. “No. I plan to stay on the shuttle.” Her words didn’t wobble and she allowed a second to congratulate herself.

  “Look, Levia, I don’t know why—”

  Before he could say any more, she whipped around in her seat, pinning him with her signature cold assassin stare. “With all due respect, Captain. I’ve no inclination for idle chitchat right now.” Turning back to the console, she released the grip she had on the arm of the chair. If he continued down this path, then she wasn’t sure just how the hell she could control herself.

  “I’m… I didn’t mean to offend you.”

  Sighing seemed rather pointless, so she started checking their trajectory, realizing just how close it was to the one she’d used last time. Her lips thinned, and in an instant, her mouth dried.

  In her mind, she ran through the entry sequence, letting its familiarity soothe her tightly coiled nerves. Braking vanes, rear thrusters, wash off speed—

  “You know, whatever is bothering you will always be better if you…”

  Closing her eyes didn’t help, neither did the death-like grasp she had on the nav-stick. “Look, I don’t want to talk about it. Nothing shared about it can make my issues go away.”

  She sucked in an unsteady breath, hoping the increased flow of oxygen would shake her rattled nerves into some semblance of normality. It didn’t work. Her insides churned and roiled like an angry ocean, lapping wildly at her stomach until she was sure that she’d lose any food she’d managed to keep down.

  “I’m sorry.” He sounded contrite, and when he reached out, the warmth of his skin burned her chilled extremities.

  “Please. Let’s just… Silence is best right now.”

  A beep sounded, and she wanted to thank any deity that was listening for the gift of interference.

  “Make sure you’re well secured. Once I answer this hail, we’ll begin our approach.”

  “Unidentified craft, present your credentials.”

  “Omega V ground control, this is GE-Five-Zero-Nine BB requesting entry. We are en-route to co-ordinates Beta-Zeta-Nine-Five-Five.” She transmitted the required documentation via wireless link, her fingers tense on the button.

  “One moment GE-Five-Zero-Nine BB. Checking your credentials now.”

  The silence in the cabin thickened, and for a second, she wondered if they’d work out who she was and deny them entrance. Either that or shoot them from the sky.

  She waited in silence, her eyes scanning the radar for any sign, however infinitesimal, that they’d be denied. One minute passed, then another.

  Suddenly, a blare of the comm unit cut through the air. “GE-Five-Zero-Nine BB, you are cleared for entry. Please be aware, we are experiencing greater than usual turbulence, and make the necessary amendments. On landing, you will submit to a full scan before you are escorted to the official units. Your entry pattern is being transmitted now. Do not deviate, otherwise we will take all necessary action. Ground control out.”

  “Friendly lot, aren’t they?” Sandon’s hoarse voice was the only sound as she scanned the comm unit for the information that would make their entry legal.

  “They never were before, and I doubt they ever will be.”

  Sandon reached out and touched her hand as she spoke. “You’ve been here before?”

  She realized she’d given away more of her secrets and damned herself. “A long time—a lifetime ago.”

  Then she shrugged away from his touch and carefully entered the information into the ship’s databanks.

  Satisfied that she’d completed her task, she set about guiding the ship through the layers of atmosphere, her gaze rarely leaving the readings for the shielding of the tiny shuttle. It skittered wildly, pulsing to the red zone once, and she held focused on it, her hands moving quickly to compensate for the extreme temperatures.

  Finally through, Levia’s hands skimmed over the controls, letting the shuttle dance its ballet against the buffering forces of nature. It dipped and wove, and she heard what sounded like a groan.

  “Hang in there.” She spoke through gritted teeth as the ship bucked.

  He grunted in response, and for just one moment, the pain and horror of her past slid away while she allowed the real Levia, the woman who gloried in overcoming difficulties, to shine through. Once they’d exited the turbulent atmosphere, she buried that persona as beeps trilled in the cockpit.

  Her hands flew over her keyboard and more than once she wished she’d been able to employ the neural net to more effectively interact with the shuttle. Sadly, this tiny craft didn’t have the necessary inputs.

  The ground rose up before her, vast tracts of fields, and here and there she spied outposts before the shuttle leveled out and she began the final approach. The airfield was just as she remembered. She gulped, but her hands remained steady.

  Levia rechecked the landing position, spying it, and hovered the craft just above, while the thrusters gave a burst, then another. The ship floated to the ground and settled with a kiss.

  “Are we…”

  Unable to control her mirth at his discomfort, she swung around to look at him. Any laughter that rose melted away at the green tinge to his skin. “Ahh… If only you’d told me you got motion sick in bad conditions. I could have given you something.”

  He coughed. “Yeah, well, don’t worry about it. It’ll be better heading back to the Echo.”

  His words reminded her of where they were, and instantly her shoulders tensed. “Yes. The sooner we head back, the better.”

  * * * *

  Levia walked slowly, as if some great big band was pulling her back to the shuttle, yet why would that be? Sandon had already ascertained she’d been there before, but his knowledge of a lot of these planetary systems was sketchy at best. He made a mental note to follow that up.

  Up the hall of the spaceport, a bunch of delegates made their way toward them, and Sandon noted more than one flinch at the sight of Levia. As soon as she spied them, her persona turned cold and formal; clearly any planned interaction with them had to be suffered. She hadn’t seemed surprised though.

  “Captain, how did you come into contact with your pilot?” He heard the menace in the security officer’s tone and his hackles rose.

  “Why?”

  “Well, it’s clear you’re neither Dendaran, nor Juran. So how does someone from another sector come to be associated with…” The man’s words died away on an unspoken insult.

  “I can’t see how that would matter as long as she is capable of her work. Do you?” Of course
, he knew what they meant. He was from the Ormoran Sector, far enough away from the fighting to remain neutral, but that didn’t mean he was unaware of the frictions between these two factions.

  The man speared him with a sharp glare. “We usually don’t allow…” The official looked away, as if discomforted by the thought of what he was about to say.

  The burn that had spread through Sandon since they’d waved the identity wand over Levia’s arm flared just a little hotter. “Who don’t you allow?”

  The man, General Vodsevors, hardened his gaze as they entered a large white building after exiting the long tunnel they’d followed from the entry point. “We’ve arrived at our destination. Your pilot...well, she’ll have to present herself to the munitions and military wing for the duration of your stay. I’ll arrange a suitable escort for her.”

  Levia turned, her eyes narrowed and lips pulled tight. He noted the flare of her nostrils, and for a moment a spurt of concern filled him. “Levia…”

  “It’s okay, Captain. I fully understand what they are saying.”

  When he reached for her, she flinched, and the others who were gathered around them stepped back, as if she were some primed and dangerous weapon. On one level, he supposed she was exactly that. After all, in her previous life, she’d been an assassin.

  “Levia, go with them.”

  Her gaze was frigid, but she gave a small nod. “Yes, Captain.”

  His escort caught his eye. “You should leave her here with my men. I’ll take you to the meeting chamber.”

  He couldn’t spare a backward glance as he was marched through a doorway, but an urgency rose in his chest. The sooner he completed this particular transaction and got out of there, the better. Perhaps then she’d tell him, share with him, whatever nightmares she carried with her.

  “Ah, Captain, welcome to Omega V.” The man rose, his arms flung open in an attitude of welcome.

  Somehow, Sandon doubted Levia was receiving the same greeting. His gut burned at that thought, but he pasted a smile on his face. He was there to do a job.

  “Captain Daria is accompanied by his pilot.” The general inflected the word pilot and the admiral opposite peered around him.

  “And where is this pilot?” The general frowned deeply as Sandon gritted his teeth. Sandon knew what was coming, but until the necessary greetings were concluded, he’d have to wait.

  “She’s a Cybe.” The words dripped with hatred, and Sandon had to control the instinctive flexing of his muscles.

  “No.” The admiral launched himself from his chair and it slid back. The wheels squeaked in distress as the man clutched the wooden table in front of him. “You know the rule, Vodsevors. No Cybes on Omega V.”

  “She’s my pilot and here as my guard.” Sandon snarled the words, and the admiral turned back in his direction.

  “We don’t allow Cybes. They caused far too much destruction last time.”

  “With all due respect, Admiral, there was no information concerning that in the briefing notes pertaining to this mission. Now, since I am here as an emissary of the Juran Commonwealth, and duly endorsed by them, imagine if I must return to the Golden Echo and advise them of this situation? That my pilot has been forbidden from landing on and acting as my guard while here.”

  The admiral blinked. Once.

  Sandon held his breath. This could be a make-it or break-it moment, but on a purely visceral level, he refused to let Levia face this kind of discrimination alone. He wondered how many other times she’d been in this position. For the first time, it occurred to him that maybe this was why she was always so skittish and distrustful and his heart ached.

  “Be that as it may, we do not allow Cybes—”

  Sandon turned on his heel, fully aware that this kind of brinkmanship could go horribly wrong. “Fine, summon my pilot and we’ll leave Omega V immediately.”

  The general was sweating, a fine line of beading appearing on his lip and hairline. “Admiral, what about…” The general was earnest, his face pale. “We have to repatriate the bodies.”

  “Wait!”

  Sandon stilled at the admiral’s bellow, but he didn’t turn around. Hold the line, Sandon.

  The general cast a meaningful glance at the admiral who sighed. “Fine. But she will be contained during the time here.”

  He didn’t like the sound of that. “Contained?”

  “We can’t have bloody Cybes on the streets. She will remain in the military wing until you leave. Does that satisfy you?”

  “Not really. I want to know she will be safe while here. Then she will be returned unharmed.” A thought sprang up. “I want to be sure she will not be used as a guinea pig or examined during her time here either.” He remained facing the general, feeling that this was the weakest link. The silence stretched out, but he waited.

  “Fine! She will be unharmed, not examined or otherwise.”

  Finally, he turned and faced the admiral. “Good. Then we can get down to business.” With a studied arrogance, he stepped up to the seat and lowered himself into it. Bloody Omegans thought they had the wood on me? I’ll show them!

  * * * *

  Behind the bars in the military brig, Levia watched the coming and going of the personnel. It wasn’t her first time locked up, and she seriously doubted it would be the last time. After all, during her time on the Dendaran vessel… She shied away from the memories. They wouldn’t help. So instead, she reclined on the narrow bunk, watching the others on the far side of the bars watch her. Of course, they all knew what she was. They’d jeered her in the first hour or so, but she’d ignored them and they’d eventually become silent.

  One in particular, his badge showed him to be Michelin Andres, was a vicious looking guy. He kept shooting angry looks in her direction. There’s something familiar about him. She didn’t know what, but the knowledge gnawed at the back of her mind like a nagging ache. He was tall, with a long scar bisecting his forehead and cold, blue eyes that she was sure would freeze her guts if she let them. She thought he would love to get her alone and maybe exact some retribution.

  Levia snickered to herself as she gazed at Andres. She seriously doubted he could take her down. She was a trained killer. No matter how hard or bad he thought he might be, he wasn’t in her league.

  The brig was chilly, but she refused to give in and ask for a blanket. Show no weakness, yet another tenet from her training that she held onto. She picked at her fingernail as the anger bubbling inside her rose again. She’d love to have the opportunity to go one-on-one with these bastards.

  “You! Cybe. Meal time. Get into the corner, face to the wall, and raise your hands.”

  She rose with a sigh and made her way to the corner. Of course their demands were totally unnecessary, but she either adhered to them or missed out on another meal. She’d already done that once since she’d been there.

  Complying was an indignity, but she slid her hands onto the ceramic surface, shuddering as the chill invaded her bones. The clatter of the dish on the metal table had her raising her head away from the surface of the walls.

  “Stand down, Cybe!” The words, bellowed so close to her ears, left her flinching and her muscles tightened in the classic fight-or-flight reaction.

  A shove, hard between the shoulder blades, mashed her nose to the wall and she moved instinctively away from the threat. Being compliant wasn’t part of her nature anymore and her fists balled.

  “Bloody Cybe! Want a piece of me?”

  Her gaze settled on the angry man, and she snarled. “You couldn’t beat me even if I were in a mobility chair, you slimy bastard.”

  He backhanded her and she grinned.

  “Is that the best you’ve got?”

  He roared and she lifted her hands, ready to work some of her current frustrations out on the man in front of her. Before either of them could do more, three or four others crowded into the tiny cell, tugging them apart.

  The man shouted obscenities as he was dragged out, then she was b
rutally pushed against the wall. “Stay there, Cybe, otherwise we’ll have to subdue you.”

  The mass of people retreated and the force field rose again. “Maybe you better control your people better then. I was doing nothing wrong!”

  Her words came too late as they disappeared from view. Kicking the wall did nothing more than break a couple of the tiles, and she muttered angrily about bloody Dendarans and their grudges.

  The rumble of her stomach reminded her that the reason this had all arisen was the mealtime. Looking in the direction of the tiny metal table, she noted the contents of the plate. Lying on the floor was the mush they’d served up.

  “Frickin’ fantastic.”

  She curled her lip and went back to the bed, lowering herself to it. Since there wasn’t anything to eat, she might as well sleep. She dragged the thin and scratchy sheet over her body and closed her eyes.

  * * * *

  Three days had passed, and finally they would be returning to the Golden Echo today. Sandon had his misgivings about the situation with Levia. His mind played over the comments and insinuations he’d heard about Cybes, and each time his sense of disquiet had risen. He jammed his hands into his pockets as he waited in the antechamber for her to be escorted in. They’d assured him she’d been adequately housed and cared for, but he was forbidden access to the detention center where she was being held.

  The creak of an opening door had him turning. The sight before him stunned and horrified him. Levia entered the room, her hair a bird’s nest and her clothes stained with the bronzed sheen of dried blood. On her face bloomed a large bruise, and her wrists were manacled.

  “What the fuck have you done?” His bellow had those dragging her into the room shrinking back. Each step he took toward her was angry, heavy with suppressed violence, and he eyed her guards as rage boiled. Sandon lifted a shaking hand to her face, but she pulled away, her eyes shining pools of misery. “Get these off her now!”

  One of the men hurried to comply. As soon as the restraints were removed, her lips twisted into a pained smile. “How soon can we get out of here?” Her words were almost silent, and the large lump of fury that lodged in his chest got bigger.