by Naomi Lucas
Seed that should be in her.
“Fuck!” Dommik lifted his hand from the circuitry and watched his skin heal. He listened as the ventilation cleared the smell of his wound from the bridge.
He yanked out a tool kit from his back port and got to work fixing the machine, wishing he knew what to do about his fairy.
***
A chime on her door woke her up.
“Go away,” Kat yelled out, curling up tight into a fetal position, succumbing to the nausea that was trying to drown her. She smacked her lips and swallowed the sour taste of her breath.
The door whipped open. She balled up further under her thin blanket.
“Please go away,” she mumbled this time.
Her only covering tore off her as familiar hands, four of them, lifted her off the bed and into a cradle of arms. She knew Dommik had four arms but the initial shock of feeling all of them at once made her shriek.
“You can’t stay in here all day, every day. Face the fucking light, Kat.” Dommik set her on her bare feet.
She slapped at his chest. “What light!? What light? The only light on this ship is in the one place I don’t want to go! Unless you mean the alcove but that’s off limits to me,” she yelled again. “I hate you.”
Dommik hauled her like a petulant child to the lavatory. She dragged her feet. If you want obnoxious, I’ll give you obnoxious!
But her nausea swallowed her up causing her struggles to falter as she dry heaved. She felt the tug of her hair, held away from her face, and his arms rubbing her back as she coughed and gagged. When her fit eased and nothing but spittle was left on her bottom lip, Dommik walked her to the shower. Kat hunkered onto the metal floor away from the spray of water as it warmed up.
He stripped and got into the stall with her. “I hate you,” she said again.
“I know.” He sat down with her, naked. “I wish I could say I was sorry but I’m not. Talk to me.”
The water sprayed off him and landed on her, drenching her nightshirt. “How could you even have that horrible thing on your ship? Why make me hold it?”
“Because It’s harmless. The parasite was eradicated years ago, it can’t hurt you, it can do nothing to you unless you let it.” One of his hands brushed up against her lips, wiping her clean. Kat jerked forward and bit his finger. “Did that make you feel better?” He didn’t move his hand.
She let him go. “I wish it did.”
“Would keeping the plant a secret from you have made you happier?”
Kat held back her tears. “No.”
“Do you wish you had stayed in Ghost, far away from me, away from the secrets we shared?” Dommik’s voice grew harder with each question.
“No.”
“Do you regret opening up to me?”
Tears formed on her eyelids. “I don’t know.” She bent her knees up to her chest and watched as he grabbed something from outside the stall. He handed her a disk of medication.
“What’s this?”
“Something that will relieve your nausea and help with your cramps. Synthesized Ano Algae from Elyria. Take two a day. You’re suffering from a vitamin d deficiency as well, common for first-time space travelers. It will help.”
“Thank you,” she whispered and took it from him, gripping it close.
“Do you want to know a secret?”
Kat rubbed her eyes and was about to say ‘no’ again but stopped her robotic response. “Yes,” she whispered into the water.
“You’re an angel.” Warm, wet hands cupped her cheeks as he forced her to look at him. “An angel. You have to move on. You have a–”
Incoming sirens blared.
Dommik looked up and away from her, his sentence unfinished at the tip of his tongue. One of the Bin’s walked into the lavatory as he stood up, tense and straight. Kat felt cold under the hot water.
“What’s wrong? What’s happening?” His muscles bulged and his jaw broke off his face before reattaching. “Dommik?”
The siren rang once again. “It’s a hail. We have company.” He turned toward her, long hair against his white skin appearing like trails of oil on water. “Go to your room and get dressed.”
Kat climbed up to her knees. “What were you going to say before?”
His eyes flew over her body, prickled and glistening. Her body priming itself for his dominion. He could have taken her from behind, forced her to call him master, and she would have let him.
The moment passed.
“Stay quiet. They can’t take you away from me.”
Chapter Sixteen:
---
He didn’t need to answer the call to know they had company. Dommik just needed to look outside the bridge’s window to see the giant white ship. It looked like a droplet of rain, a thin yet curved bullet that peaked at the end into a series of needles where the thrusters and warp drives were stored. It had a smoky quality to it, a very alien look. The sides jutted out like a serrated knife, a puffer fish’s spikes just waiting to spear an unassuming vessel in its wake.
He knew those spikes. He knew they were made with Pyzian metal and what that metal could do. He had it inside him. It could puncture the soul from a being, or the lifeblood of nearby flyer. The spikes ejected outward like a spring and stabbed everything it came in contact with. Only to retreat and do it again.
Only one type of Trentian captained a Piercer Battleship. A Space Lord hailed him.
Dommik sighed and sat down, answering the chime.
“This is the Spider, answering, Captained by Dommik, myself, a Cyborg in service to the Earthian Planetary Exploration Division. We have business to take care of within the Trentian sectors.”
“Dommik,” an alien hissed low through the channel. “Dommik. Why do you have hundreds of lifeforms on our radar, inside your ship, if you only have business here? Dommik.” It slithered strong and hateful through his speaker system. A hidden curse to his name.
Names were important to the aliens, just like women were, and flesh. He knew what he was dealing with but Kat would be nothing but gold to a dragon.
“I apologize, who am I speaking to?”
Laughter, merciless laughter answered. Dommik counted the guns he had within reach arm’s reach in his head.
“A Space Lord, Cyborg, A Lord to your created existence, bright within Xanteaus’s eyes. But if you must, must know a name to continue this intrigue, it is thus: Markoss, Lord of Light’s Reach. Answer me NOW,” his voice went from a hissing whisper to a bomb readying to ignite.
“I have cargo, recovered for the EPED, creatures from other worlds to study and plants to examine. All in the name of expansion and safety for both our peoples and the hybrids we create,” Dommik leaned back, hoping he had a fiber of charm in his body.
Charm, hah.
“Cyborgs don’t create life, Dommik, they take it. Where has your council sent you and what for?”
“The mission is classified,” he rolled his eyes to the ceiling.
“Can you classify death?”
“Of course.”
“Shall I speak the ritual of the unhonored before we immobilize you and take you in?”
“Do you really, really want to fire on a Cyborg, Space Lord? Because that wouldn’t go well for you. Even if you take down my ship, it won’t hurt me. I’ll survive out in space and cling to you like a shadow, weigh you down with overrides and webs until you go crazy with trying to get rid of a bug that Just Won’t Die.”
“Ah there are the threats I am used too from your kind, so much bark, so much bite!” he chuckled with glee. “I am not trying to start a war. I am offering death. Unless you would take another route with me? How about an inspection and allowance to move on through my jurisdiction? What brings you to our space anyway wired-being?”
Dommik answered this time. “I’ve been sent by the EPED to procure an O'lia flower to catalog its...mythical capabilities. Xan’Mara is my destination.”
“Is that so? I can tell you all about the flower rig
ht now, Cyborg,” the alien said with a taunt.
“I’m afraid that’s not good enough, Alien, our scientists want one on hand.”
“That flower. That flower will not live within captivity, It will not follow your orders, it will never survive a trip to…” the alien spat it out, “Earth.”
Dommik sat back and leaned his heavy frame into the back of his chair. What if I procure the flower and it’s dead on delivery? I’ll bring the seeds.
“That’s not a problem for me.”
The Space Lord silenced the line with a static fizzle.
“You can take one.”
“One flower?”
“No seeds.”
“And what If I don’t agree? What if I go to Xan’Mara and ask the pilgrims for an orchard? Take a handful of seeds? Will you engage in a space battle with a Cyborg?”
A huffing breath filled his ears. “One flower. One, Dommik, and an inspection of your ship. We can’t allow unknown life into our system.”
“No.”
“No? That’s not good enough, Dommik. You have limited options, Dommik. Dommik. You can allow my eyes through your passageways or you can blow up into dust, you Cyborgs are said to possess reason. Life or death?”
“You mean life or a Cyborg parasite?”
Dommik could feel the shrug the Space Lord twitched through the intercom. He blew on his healing hand, letting his uncertain breath out of his system. What does it matter? Kat is mine. Mine. Mine. He repeated the words in his head.
“Fine, you can inspect my ship, but only you. We will put our faces in each other’s eyes and measure, and you will find truth in mine. Let’s waste some time, as you seem to be dead-set on the idea.” He allowed his ship to connect with the aliens. Every bump and grind of the tunnel that shot out and connected their ships scrapped at the back of his eyes.
Several lifeforms waited for him on the other side and Dommik went to meet them at the docking bay, well away from the hull and Kat. He stripped himself of all his weapons, several knives, a gun, and darts slick with his own poison.
It didn’t make him any less scary, any less threatening but if he knew one thing about the aliens he was designed to kill, he knew ritual was important to them and one didn’t bring weapons to a peaceful meeting. He waited while the docking completed, staring at the metal wall that separated him from his old enemy.
Dommik made a fist then quickly shook out his violence. He locked it down, tight, and the door swished open to three beings even paler than he was but with pearlescent veins of different colors.
The Space Lord stood in front, a bipedal, humanoid that had his white hair cut close to his head, a plain helmet of forest green hung at his hip. A scythe made of diamond was strapped to his back, even in the low light of the tunnel, it was too brilliant to look at. A trickster weapon. Only the Lord Markoss carried; his lackeys with long, braided hair were unarmed.
They carried, breaking the ritual. Dommik was a weapon in his own right.
Each Trentian wore gloves. Dommik made sure of it, eyeing their hands, uncaring that they knew he looked. Lord Markoss lifted his wrists to show him the buckles that secured his gauntlets in place.
He nodded, “Let’s get this over with.” The aliens followed him into his ship.
“If only we could trust each other, Cyborg, we would create the greatest army.” Rainbows shot out and danced with each footstep, created by the diamond blade.
“If only we could trust each other.”
Markoss laughed softly.
Dommik led them to the central interior where the EPED had stamped their name and symbol into the walls and floors. A lonely place that he never visited. “Now you have your proof and it’s even written on the walls for you. No battle. One flower. And we can leave here honoring our people’s peace agreement.”
The alien lord walking around the exterior circuit of the room, watching his steps and reading his ship’s history. It twinkled in his green eyes. Like Kat’s but silent and eerie. They wanted to kill each other. The tension was obvious and deadly.
“Dommik. Dommik. Dommik, where are the beings on board this ship? You must have a crew you are hiding away…”
He clenched his hand again. “Come,” he canted his head. “I’ll show you, for two flowers and safe passage.” When the alien chuckled again and trailed behind him, the terms were agreed.
They rode down the elevator in silence, facing each other, muscles ticking, sizing the other up. “Why do you want the O'lia’s?”
“I don’t. The people I work for do. Why do you wear your hair short?”
“Ah, so you noticed,” Markoss mocked. “Not every Trentian plays by the rules. Which could only mean one thing…”
“You broke the law.”
“I hate wearing my hair long, it’s bothersome. I cut it off.” The doors opened.
Dommik could smell Kat, her scent lingering in the air, the ventilation systems had not yet filtered her out. The aliens showed no sign that they knew she was there. Dommik kept his mind on his enemies as he led them to the facility, they stopped short when his glass enclosures came into view.
The android's continued their work as if nothing unusual was happening. They swept her presence away, benignly working on the tech. Immobilized under his control. Bin-Three stood sentinel down the hallway, around the darkened corner. One of his Bins started up the ventilation.
“The androids are my crew, they do my bidding, you won’t find another being except for the creatures, count them if you must.” He walked to the roach room and opened the door. “It might take you awhile.”
Markoss peered in and out, several seconds at most. “Three hundred and eighty-three. There are two creatures in that glass tower and four more in that one.” The alien indicated the Drogluks. A bird-like creature that can fly in multiple atmospheres with ease, wanted for study in durability. “There is a handful of walled off plants over there, I see no bugs outside the enclosures. It doesn’t quite add up.” Markoss turned to look at him. “Are you a liar, Cyborg?”
“No.” Dommik lied without a beat. “There are no other lifeforms on this ship.” He imagined Kat, sitting quietly in her quarters.
“I want to believe you but I just can’t. We will accompany you to Xan’Mara and inspect your ship upon retrieval of the flowers. Unless you show me what you are hiding.”
Dommik breathed, letting his body fill with sterilized air. He kept his mind on Kat while he let the code deep inside him that told him to kill all Trentians fall back into its shallow grave.
“Let me see you off,” he gritted his teeth. “One O’lia it is.” The metal plates in his jaw tightening, each step a test of his willpower to not tear the aliens apart. The four of them didn’t make a sound, gliding as trained predators would out of the menagerie; so when the barely audible coughing, a strangled moan, followed by a sharp intake of breath for a lost silence came through the multi-layered steel barriers, it was as loud as thunder. And just as damning.
Markoss pulled his scythe out, slow and lazy, a sway of power and hooked it around his neck. Dommik relaxed as it pressed into his skin as the smell of copper filled the air.
“I don’t like liars, Dommik.”
Dommik shifted. His extra limbs pulled away from his metal frame, his fingers and toes locking into eight sharp claws all while only losing a single drop of blood. He speared the aliens lord’s lackey’s into the ground. “Make a wrong move, Markoss, and your friends are dead.”
“Not before you lose your head. Is it a girl?” They stood their ground, each a cut away from death.
“She’s mine.”
“She sounds sick. Show her to me and I will be the judge of that.”
“I could kill you a thousand different ways, Alien, diamond can’t cut through my skeleton. Not before your death.”
“Dommik. Dommik. Dommik, try me. My blade has met your kind in battle.”
“So have mine,” he sneered, his bladed claws pressed deeper into the pinned down gua
rds. They wouldn’t move, wouldn’t fight without their lord’s command. “You’re on my ship. You won’t die honorably here. I’ll make sure your bodies are never found.”
“And you will not make it out of this sector without every Space Lord and Knight after you. Does this girl know you are a monstrosity? A disgusting eight-legged creature? Sometimes I wonder if there are redeeming qualities within the Earthians but then something like you lands in my path.”
Dommik didn’t need to be told what he was, he already knew. He didn’t even look like a ‘spider’ when he shifted, but more of a deformed thing with an arched back, stretched flesh, and exposed wiring. Many went into shock upon seeing his other form. He thought of Kat.
His limbs drew back into his body while his bio-suit reformed around his frame, his fingers breaking off from his claws, until he was a man again, a normal figure, with a pile of shredded clothes at his feet. The guards drew up and the scythe slipped from his neck, releasing him from its noose.
The cut had healed by the time Markoss settled his weapon back in place.
Dommik cracked his neck and calmed his heart. He didn’t turn around to face his visitors.
She should have stayed in Ghost.
***
Kat tried to stifle her cough but it slipped through her fingers and onto the waste basket she was bent over. Her stomach roiled and clawed at her insides. She broke the foil on her pill case and swallowed one. She gagged as it left a bitter taste in her mouth. Kat looked around. I wish I had water.
Her eyes landed on the door and stilled. She waited silently, trying in vain to discern any noises beyond but heard nothing, nothing but the sound of air flow. The pain in her gut ebbed. Her heartbeat rang like a bell to her ears, it echoed like a roar throughout the small space as the familiar feeling of paranoia came back. Gingerly, Kat unzipped her pants and peered down into her panties.
No blood. She was either having the worst period of her life or something else was causing her pain.