Carbon Copy

by Ashley Ladd

  Caid pushed the controls and jogged to the pad. An instant later, they shimmered off the ship and reassembled on the planet.

  Hazy, Siobhan swayed, grasping at the corsair to steady herself. She had never felt faint before when transcarting. She wished she could access some of her family’s fortune to have the blasted thing fixed before trusting it again. But of course she couldn’t give away her identity, even on this so-called refuge.

  “Well, well, if it ain’t Captain Jeremiah Kincaid, scourge of the Delta Quadrant, ladies’ man extraordinaire.” A bare-chested damsel sidled up to him and smacked him resoundingly on the cheek, then glared at Siobhan. “And who is she? Your new traveling companion?”

  Unnamed emotions slammed into Siobhan’s chest and she wanted to rip the woman’s body off Caid’s. How dare she rub her naked breasts against him in her presence, as if she was invisible! She tried not to glare at the woman but an alien emotion assaulted her—pique? Or heaven forbid—jealousy?

  Caid had the grace to cast his eyes downward, chagrined. He cleared his throat and stepped back from the brazen woman. “Rebecca, my sweet. You were the first person I was going to look up. Really and truly. Cross my heart…”

  “And hope to die. Hah! I wish you would die. A horrible, painful death would be too good for the likes of you.” Rebecca lifted her nose in the air and huffed off, her skirt bouncing against her bare buttocks. Then she spun on her tri-heeled shoe and narrowed her gaze on Siobhan. “Don’t believe a word that spills from the cad’s deceitful lips.”

  So tell me something I don’t already know. Siobhan pursed her lips and nodded her head. Then she shot a glare at Caid. “What’d you do to that poor woman? Your fan club grows.”

  Scowling, Caid grasped her elbow in his hand and guided her away from the busy street and curious eyes. “Nothing. I swear on my dear departed mother’s grave.”

  “Uh-huh.” She wouldn’t doubt that his dear mother was very much alive. She’d keep her own counsel. So this one was a heartbreaker. Like she was surprised? He obviously enjoyed the ladies, or else why would he have struck their particular bargain? But she revised her opinion about him being desperate for feminine companionship.

  “Now to find the alterationist before anyone else recognizes us.” Caid hurried her along a back alleyway, past drunks and elderly bag ladies who held out their hands for coins. Much to her surprise, Caid filled every outstretched palm with a shiny gold doubloon.

  “Bless you, torkusan.” An old beggar woman said, kissing his hand with soot-blackened lips.

  Caid nodded with a quick smile, then put his arm around Siobhan’s waist securely and pulled her close to his side. When she began to struggle, he whispered in her ear, his warm breath tickling her deliciously, “Play along, sweetheart. Don’t make any scenes to draw attention to us.”

  She leaned against him and fluttered her lashes up at him. “Is this better?” Impressed by his charity, she would play along with him. She wondered why he didn’t use some of his money to lead a more respectable life. The more she observed of him, the larger the mystery, the more fascinating, he became.

  Shadows loomed grotesquely around them, the buildings so tall, only a sliver of sunlight filtered to the cracked pavement although the two suns climbed high in the sky. A fat rat scampered across their path chased by a straggly kitlup-like creature with bared fangs. Sterile was the last thing she’d call this primitive world. “Surely the surgeon’s office isn’t here?”

  “Alterationist. You expect a renowned plastic surgeon to set up shop here?” Annoyance filtered through Caid’s voice.

  She stopped dead and froze to the spot, putting her hands on her hips. “You expect me to go under a dirty knife?”

  “Who said anything about dirty?” His eyes glittered mischievously.

  “It’s dirty, ancient, and disgusting, an infection waiting to happen.” Neither the Confederation or her family would subject even a kitlup to such conditions.

  “They aren’t going to do the alterations in the middle of the alley.” Caid rolled his eyes and captured her hand. “Come along. My patience wanes.”

  His patience waned? What about hers? “If it’s not sterile, count me out.”

  “It’s your funeral, comprendez?”

  “That’s what I’m trying to prevent.”

  “You think different hair coloring and style will fool anyone? The same eyescan? And what about that ticking phaton of a chip in your hand?” He snorted. “Think again. They’ll be looking for two humans, not two Ottkonians or Balderians.”

  They rounded a corner and she spied the pitted tinatium sign hanging by a twisted chain in front of a worn shop front. Dr. Vignolo was carved in Edwardian script. Grime covered the windows and someone had rubbed a small peephole clear by the doorway. Siobhan tilted her head at the office. “You expect me to have confidence in that?”

  “For a starship captain, you’re rather reticent.”

  “I prefer to call it caution.” Something that wouldn’t hurt him to practice.

  Caid held the door wide for her and motioned her to precede him. “Darlin’.”

  She stepped over the threshold hesitantly, dragonfly wings batting against her heart in rapid succession. It took several moments for her eyes to adjust to the dim flickering light, but she could make out several dusty jars filled with eyes, pincers, and wings. She was already gone. This place was positively medieval. Pivoting on her heel, she collided into Caid’s hard chest.

  “There’s no better alterationist on the planet or in the universe.”

  She’d hate to see the worst. Her nostrils flared and she squared her shoulders. Pointing at the rows of haphazard shelves behind the littered counter, she asked pointedly, “Does he practice witchcraft?”

  “When the occasion calls for it.” A dark-skinned man with stark white hair and ivory eyes ambled into the room and slapped Caid heartily on the back as if they were old buddies.

  Caid stuck his hand out to shake the other man’s. “Good to see you, doctor. I’ve brought you a couple clients.”

  “I should start paying you a commission.” The man chuckled at his own joke, revealing pointy teeth. What alien race he came from, Siobhan had no clue. He could be a hybrid or a mutant, or native of another hidden world.

  Caid’s lips curved in a mischievous grin, revealing his dimple. He wrapped a friendly arm about the doctor’s thin shoulders and spoke conspiratorially so that Siobhan had to strain to catch the gist of his words. “You know, I’ve never asked for anything in return for sending business your way, but I have a favor to ask of you now.”

  “Which is?” Suspicion laced the doctor’s svelte tones.

  “The lady and I both require alterations. A few forehead ridges, a little nose work, maybe an ear tuck.”

  The medic escorted them to a room in the back of his offices. A myriad of mannequin holograms glowed on shelves that lined the walls. “Do you have a particular race in mind?”

  Caid walked down the aisles, peering at the pirouetting holograms. “It needs to be humanoid but sufficiently different to make our identities indiscernible. We’ll need our eye scans and DNA changed as well. And the lady will need her chip disabled.”

  “Ah, you need a deluxe alteration. Let me disable the chip immediately before we have our Confederation friends knocking down our door.”

  He held his palm out to Siobhan. “May I do it now? It’s a simple procedure.”

  Anxious to be rid of the deadly chip, Siobhan put her right hand in his. “You can do it here?”

  The doctor pulled a tricorder-like gadget out of his pocket and waved it over her hand. “It’s already done. Let’s pray they’ve not already tracked you here.”

  “I didn’t detect any Confederation ships in this sector.” Caid shook the doctor’s hand. “As always, I owe you, friend.”

  The doctor folded his arms across his thin chest. “So what else can I do for you? You’ll need new identification documents, as well?”

  Si
obhan stopped before an accordion-necked creature with wrinkled skin and stuck out her tongue at it. It wasn’t far superior to the Glitopuss. Then she ran her fingers lightly over the forehead ridges of the neighboring Glemtok, and gasped when it jabbed her. She drew back swiftly, sucking the drop of blood that was beaded there.

  “Careful, some of them are poisonous,” the doctor warned, taking her hand and examining it. “Fortunately for you, this one is harmless.”

  “It didn’t feel harmless.” She glared at the offending hologram, wondering why the safety controls weren’t on. “Scratch Glemtoks off our list. We don’t want to slice our hands open every time we brush our hair.”

  “Glemtoks don’t brush their hair.” The doctor pointed at the unruly matted mane.

  “Big shock,” Siobhan mumbled. She wasn’t in love with her locks like Caid, but she kept them clean and within military regulations.

  She perused the shelves, her stomach roiling when she came upon a Pretadorn. “Does anyone ever choose this species?”

  “One or two,” the doctor said noncommittally. “Those who want to go deep undercover.”

  Siobhan wondered if the Pretadorn back on Balderia had been a true Pretadorn? She’d never know.

  Caid guided her away from the beast and faced the doctor. “Do you have any suggestions? Something aesthetically pleasing and yet completely different from humans?” The way he said “aesthetically pleasing” made her pussy tingle. Sex was still uppermost in his mind. And it was that far from hers?

  Vignolo tapped his chin thoughtfully, and then a light illuminated his eyes. He made his way jauntily to the far corner of the room where he picked up a hologram and held it up for their scrutiny. “I save this one for extra special clients, like yourself.”

  “What is it?” Siobhan asked, scanning her memory and coming up blank. She would recall a violet-skinned race if she had run across them in her journeys.

  “Violetians,” Caid said, stroking his beard. “I wouldn’t have to cut off all my hair, just my beard and mustache.”

  “In case you didn’t notice, they’re purple.” Siobhan reached out to finger the pronounced ridge, then drew back at the last second, remembering her last episode.

  “It’s safe,” the doctor assured her. “Changing flesh tone and eye color is a simple matter and reversible should you decide to revert to your original appearance.”

  “Definitely. I don’t want to be purple forever.” She wanted to resume her life as soon as she got to the bottom of this universal misunderstanding. Somehow, she didn’t think a Confederation crew would take such a creature seriously.

  “The authorities won’t be looking for Violetians,” Caid murmured in her ear, his warm breath tickling her neck.

  Siobhan tried to erase the frown between her brows and think positively. Disguising themselves had been her idea after all. “Can you assure me that our original appearances can be restored?”

  The doctor smiled at her with a winning bedside manner. “I’ve had one hundred percent success in restorations.” He turned her injured cheek to his inspection. “While we’re at it, I’ll fix this laceration for you. Who sewed this up for you?”

  Caid averted his eyes sheepishly. “It’s my handiwork. I’m not a physician, but desperate measures necessitate unlikely medics.”

  “You did a fine job. I’ll just clean it up a bit to minimize the scarring and guard against infection.”

  “Thank you,” Siobhan said with a grateful heart. “How long will the alterations take?” Worry about her fiancé nibbled at her. She was anxious to confront her nemesis, resume her destiny, and let her loved ones know she was safe.

  “The alterations themselves will only take a daysep. But you’ll need several dayseps recovery before I can discharge you.”

  “Several dayseps!” Why not a lifetime? Her imposter could blow up another planet in a week’s time. She could destroy entire star systems!

  “No physician can rush the process. That will give you time to study your new species, accustom yourself with the Violetian culture and ways.”

  * * * * *

  A few dayseps later, once they had recovered enough from their surgery to leave their bedchambers, Dr. Vignolo held out a mini-disc and motioned to a computer in the adjoining room. “Feel free to study in our office.”

  Caid shook his head and held his palm out flat. “I’m quite familiar already. I’ve had quite a bit of contact with the race.”

  The way Caid pronounced “contact” made her peer at him closely. Just what kind of contact had he had? The kind to get him slapped yet again?

  “Then you can help the captain familiarize herself with them.” The doctor disappeared discreetly, his shadow slipping silently away.

  “I’m a quick study,” Siobhan said as she popped the disc into the reader and scanned the information. She grunted when her annoying hair cascaded in front of her eyes, and she tucked it behind her ears and knotted the long tresses behind her.

  “Never do that,” Caid said, shaking out her hair, and smoothing it over her shoulders. “It’d be a dead giveaway. The Violetians value their hair and would never tie it back or cut it.”

  “Wonderful.” The accordion necks looked better and better, although she admitted grudgingly that she was secretly glad that Caid hadn’t been required to shave his glorious locks, that she would still be able to wrap them about her in the throes of making love.

  “What other dead giveaways should I be aware of?” She glanced up at Caid then wished she hadn’t when her lips were only kissing distance from his.

  Caid’s breath feathered across her chest, sending shivers down her spine. “The women never cover their feet, but they glove their hands. Always.”

  How was she supposed to fight effectively without her boots? How was she to run without stabbing her soles on rocks and debris? Did the Violetian women remain indoors like domestics? Or did they have tough-soled feet? Pointedly, she looked at his feet. “I suppose you get to wear shoes?”

  Grimacing, he held up his foot. “If you have the nerve to call these pamby slippers shoes. Going barefoot would be an improvement.”

  Next time she chose a disguise, she would ask about their customs and dress before she made her selection. This development was quite distressing.

  Absorbing what she could, her mind overflowed with facts and figures about a particularly unremarkable civilization. At least the Confederation wouldn’t expect to find her in a flower-child persona, sniffing daiskaks and spewing love and peace epithets. Hopefully, they’d find her imposter quickly and not cross the Confederation.

  She pushed the controls away from her and rose to her full height which could be a giveaway in itself. Violetian women rarely topped five feet and six feet would be unheard of. She could only hope no one was so observant. If she remained subservient, hunched her shoulders and bowed her head, her height might not be noticeable. But it galled her to remain subservient to any man, especially to a depraved pirate. “I’m ready. Did you procure a new ship?”

  The doctor returned to examine his work, turning her face to the light. “No one should be able to discern your true identities.”

  Caid cleared his throat, and his shadow fell across her as he moved into the doctor’s line of vision. “Were you able to locate a speedy ship for us?”

  “I’m not in the business of peddling spaceships,” Vignolo said dryly.

  “It would all be for naught if we have to use the same vessel.” Caid dug in his pockets and pulled out a purse full of gold pieces. “I will trade you for my ship plus the contents of my pockets.”

  The doctor eyed the money without emotion. “Esmelita can procure a ship, but it will cost more than that. Especially a speedy one.”

  “That’s all I have here. I can acquire more for you given a bit of time.” Caid rubbed the air beneath his chin, then scowled. “Esmelita, you say? I’m sure she’ll be accommodating.”

  Esmelita? Siobhan groaned inwardly and rubbed her ridged forehead
. She had thought the arrangements were long ago taken care of. The glint of her diamond ring, a family heirloom, caught her attention. She wrenched it off and held it out to the alterationist. “Will you accept this for payment?” Heirloom though it was, it wouldn’t do her any good in the grave. And it could be used to identify her.

  “May I examine it?” Vignolo picked it up when she nodded. He held it up to the light where its many facets glistened. “It’s a fine piece. We have a bargain. Let me contact Esmelita to procure your vessel, and I’ll be back momentarily.”

  She couldn’t get Esmelita off her mind though she wondered why mention of another woman should matter. Caid was a free agent. As soon as the door closed behind the doctor and they were alone, she asked, “Who is Esmelita?”

  Caid schooled his features into a blank expression. “An old friend.”

  An old friend like Rebecca?

  A mischievous glint flickered across Caid’s darkening eyes. “Are we jealous?”

  Not in this lifetime! The man was daft to think for a hensep she’d feel jealousy over him. “It helps me to play my part if I know who the other players in this set-up are.”

  The grin playing about the corners of Caid’s lips grew into a full-blown smile. “Esmelita is an old and powerful friend who has many invaluable contacts in low places. If anyone can procure a new craft for us, it’s her.”

  Very well. This Esmelita sounded like a godsend.

  Caid fingered his earring. “You there Vizzy?” When he received a response, he continued. “Contact Esmelita for landing coordinates and we’ll meet you there shortly.”

  The doctor returned with a smile on his face. “Your new ship is awaiting you. Do you need directions to Esmelita’s compound?”

  “I know how to get there,” Caid reminded him, “Don’t forget that we need our new identification papers, as well.”

  Vignolo unlocked a desk drawer and extracted a sheaf of documents. “It’s been a pleasure doing business with you Mr. and Mrs. Roveta.” To Caid he said, “You’re Simon.” To Siobhan, he said, “You’re Uma.”