by JA Huss
I watch his deep blue eyes as he talks, find the power there and make myself behave. "You're right. It's a pleasure to meet you, Commander Lucan. Should I salute? Shake? You'll have to forgive me, I am almost one hundred percent ignorant of your culture."
Another indulgent smile as he extends his hand. "We can do it your way, if you like."
I take his hand and shake it politely. "I would not like, actually. I would prefer to know how I am expected to act."
He retracts his hand. "We'll get to that in time. But for now I'd like to know how you came to be on my habitat when I gave a direct order to kill you two months ago."
I smile. "Oh, that's easy," I say, still grinning up at him, "I was invited, of course."
"Ah, yes, your invitation. Would you like to know where Tier is?"
"Not especially, no."
His brow furrows at my answer and I tuck down a smile. I can play too, buddy. Let's dance.
"Well, Junco, that surprises me. I think he would very much like to know where you are."
My stomach churns, but I shake my head. "No, I don't think so, Commander Lucan."
"And why's that, Junco?"
I shrug and turn my back to him and walk a few paces, testing out my wings and feeling my new talons move and be restrained inside my boot. God, no wonder Moju was barefoot. It's kind of annoying.
"I'm nothing to him. He's nothing to me. Why would we care what the other is doing?" I turn back and wait. Patience is not inertia, Junco. "He brought me back because I can be used and I came because, well – I'm sure you probably realize why staying on Earth wasn't a real option for me."
He smiles again. I don't. My face will crack if I have to keep up this fake shit much longer. He turns sideways towards the door and waves his arm, signaling for me to pass through ahead of him.
I do and I am met by six avian guards with their plasma rifles pointed at my head. I listen to their footsteps and decide they are the same guys who just saw me naked and covered in goo not too long ago and shoot them a smile.
They keep their aim true and ignore me.
Lucan and I walk side by side down a long hallway wide enough to drive a few tanks through back on Earth. My gaze stays straight ahead and I do not gawk up or around, but instead listen to our footfalls echo as we travel. The guards match our pace and they surround me in a semi-circle, walking sideways to target me.
I look at Lucan's face and he feels my gaze and directs his eyes down in expectation. "I think it's possible you've misjudged me, Commander. I'm just one small girl. Do you really think you need six heavily armed men plus yourself to control the situation? If so, you will seriously inflate my ego."
He sighs and I know the charade is over. "Junco, we know exactly who you are, what you do, and what you're capable of – so you will excuse my enthusiasm for protection until we can all come together on the same page. I ordered you to keep that weapon of yours," he hesitates as he points to my stomach and I squint up at him, "sheathed. Yet you insisted on removing it."
"Commander Lucan, that weapon is biologically attached to me. Taking it out and giving it a quick check was like wiggling my new toes. A simple reflex to make sure everything is working." I reach for it and the rifles emit an electric field so strong it pushes me backwards. "Cool it, guys. I'd be happy to hand it over if it makes you feel better."
"Hands off, Junco. You will not use that weapon here, do you understand?" I don't meet his gaze and I don't agree to his terms, so he continues, "I would take it, but it cannot stay away from you for long, we tried while you were under. It was – not ideal."
I shrug. "I lived without it for weeks on Earth."
"This isn't Earth."
Yeah, I think I'm getting that, thanks. "Well, you know, I can't help that the thing is attached to me. It wasn't like anyone asked if I wanted a biological weapon grafted onto my body, ya know."
He stops in the hallway and waves the men off a bit. Without the echo of boots the only sounds are the environmental units pumping out conditioned air. The guards step back but the rifles are still on alert. "Junco, I'm not playing games. This sweet-talking you gave Tier will not work on me. So save your breath."
I laugh out loud this time, I can't help it. He gives it a good shot, but he's unsure what to make of me and it shows. "Commander, I don't know who you've been talking to, but it certainly wasn't Tier if you think the reason I am alive and fucking up your habitat is because of my wily ways with men. Tier and I had no conversations about what he was and was not doing beyond a handful of words the very last time we talked."
Lucan's composure is back and his lip curls up slightly as he speaks. "Is that so? Well, Tier must be mistaken then, because he said something quite different."
I don't even miss a beat. "You're a liar. He never said anything other than what I just stated because that was the truth. And if you know so much about me, then you know that death carries very little meaning at the moment. You can try and kill me if you want – I don't give a shit. I have nothing to lose. You're no different than the assholes I left back on Earth and if you really want to know what I'm doing on your habitat, you better ask yourself. We both know I'm here because you want me for something."
I watch the guard behind Lucan raise his eyebrows at me and smile, then redirect my eyes back to Lucan's face and wait for his reply.
He turns and continues to walk and I catch up and walk by his side. We travel in the echo of our footsteps once again and then he stops at a door, palms his hand over the biometrics and it slides open. He waves me in and I step through, but he stays where he is.
"Goodbye for now, Miss Coot." And then the door closes.
Chapter Two
I turn and find Layla gaping at me from the far side of the room. I look up and around and she smiles and waves the thought away. "No cameras allowed here, Junco. I'm so glad to see you!" She walks over to me and hugs me to her chest.
I return her hug and push her back. "What did they do to Tier?"
She winces at his name and shakes her head. Her mouth drops downward as she speaks. "He's fucked, Junco. On trial for treason."
I stare out at the room for a moment, stunned. Treason. That is the worst. I shake it off and study the room. It's a cross between a lab, a clinic, and a hotel. It screams Junco's new vivarium. I pull a chair from the table and sit across from Layla as she waits patiently for me to settle. The chairs are strange, with only a thin backrest, but as soon as I lean back I understand why. It supports my spine without crimping or impinging on my new wings. I slouch a bit, even though the straight back makes it difficult, and feel very tired and sad. Since Tier's warning instructed me to trust no one, I have to presume that Layla will deliver reports on my moods and behavior and force a neutral expression as I wait for her to give me some sort of explanation.
She smiles and then lets out a long breath. "When we discussed everything that could happen when we brought you back, Junco, treason never even entered the realm of possibilities. But" – she hesitates – "here we are."
"What were the possibilities?" I ask as I avert my eyes and study the furniture. In the living area there is a bed, a desk, a large screen on the wall, and a bedside table. I see a door that might lead to a bathroom. That takes up about a quarter of the space.
About half is devoted to medical and lab equipment – centrifuges of various shapes and sizes, some molecular cloning machines, glassware of course, a bench lined with bottles of chemicals, buffers, pipettes, books, a plate reader, cell sorter, a few medium sized coolers, a hood for tissue culture, four microscopes, a gleaming stainless steel minus-80 freezer for samples, and lots of other stuff that looks like it belongs in a research facility. Let's just call it a well-stocked, scratch that, a well-funded lab.
The other corner has a counter that holds canisters filled with paper goods, 2x2 gauze, cotton-tipped applicators, shit like that. There is also a built-in sink and glass front cupboards that hold enough drug canisters to treat a small town back in the RR.<
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"Demotion, mostly. We thought maybe if we were really fucked they'd kick us out of the Aves. We spent quite a few hours talking about what we'd do if they did."
My brow furrows and I try and put it together. "Are you and Tier – together?"
Her smile is crooked. "No, Junco. I'm on his team, his scientist. We've been together, hell, since he came out of Fledge really. Not counting that stint I did on Lacerion for post-training in moleculars."
"Sorry, I feel a little lost here, ya know. I have no idea who he is, only that I agreed to let him bring me here. We never discussed anything that might happen afterward, so–"
"We figured you'd be like a bonus – one of the Seven that we thought was lost but wasn't. We were pretty sure it was gonna work fine, Junco. It's not like we were just yanking ya on that end. And it did, right? Look at ya! So pretty."
Her sudden pickup of Tier's speech patterns makes me swallow the sadness once again. "I don't like the color, to be honest."
"Really?"
She looks a little hurt and I wonder if she made me this way on purpose, but it's too late now and I just shrug. "I like the black wings. These," I say, peeking back at their almost yellow paleness, "feel like a target."
"Oh, well. Sorry. I think they're beautiful. And I bet everyone else does too. You'll see. Anyway, the whole purpose of being on Earth was to get the Seven and bring them back. We knew you were the Seventh," her fingers do little air quotes, "and the Seventh Sibling is not well-liked around here in theory. But we discussed this for days before we came to the decision, Junco. I'm pure because someone made me that way. Ditto for everyone else. So, if someone altered you as you grew up, and they did – we know this – then how can you not be pure? Just because your alterations took place after birth, why should that make any difference?"
I look away at her question because I don't want to think about anything right now, least of all my avian biological status. "So, what went wrong?"
"After we put you under we let the others come in, but you were undergoing the morph, so you had special protected status. It's a vulnerable position. Being unconscious for weeks on end, helpless and under the control of your medical staff. They couldn't do anything to you then. They just had to wait it out."
I don't want to ask the question, in case someone is listening or Layla is taking notes on my questions, but I do anyway. "And Tier?"
She shrugs. "He's ranking officer, so they couldn't do anything to him either, unless they wanted to mutiny, which they didn't. But, well, everyone has a boss. And Lucan was beyond pissed when we arrived in the Band. They arrested Tier immediately."
"The charges," I ask, still avoiding her eyes, "are treason?"
She nods and gives me a half-hearted crooked smile when I finally look over at her.
"Because he didn't kill me."
This time she doesn't acknowledge me, just releases a deep breath.
"Anything else? Charges, I mean?"
"Something to do with breaking a treaty. And the old stuff, the unauthorized murder charges. He was on – like a probation – and they revoked it for this last charge."
I nod and get up and walk across the room to the bed. "This for me?"
She nods but doesn't rise.
"And all this?" I say, pointing to the medical equipment.
"Tests. Not today though, it's late and I'm sure you're still tired. And," she hesitates, "maybe it will help to know that these feelings you're having right now, the sadness and lethargy? It's normal, Junco. We all get this way after morph. It's an endocrine reaction, the changes really fuck you up. So whatever you're feeling right now, just give it a few days, OK?"
I sit on the bed and start unlacing my boots.
"We'll have to have guards in here with you at all times, just for a little while, though."
I shake my head without looking up and write her off for good now.
"Ashur is taking the night shifts and Braun is taking days."
I remove the boots and the socks and finger the blister that has formed on my right foot after the short walk from the showers and I wonder for the first time how I will hold up in this new environment.
Layla stands up and walks towards the door, then turns back. "It'll be better tomorrow. We'll do the tests and then you can leave here. You'll see."
I lie down on the bed and turn my back to her.
"See you tomorrow. Ashur's outside, you remember him? From the battle at your house?"
I ignore her.
"OK, well, I'll send him in on my way out."
"Layla?" I ask without turning to look at her.
"Yes, Junco?"
"Why aren't you on trial for treason?"
"I'm his subordinate, Junco. He's my captain. I could no more deny his order to save you than anyone else on the ship."
I close my eyes and never even hear the other avian enter because I simply shut down and go looking for the dock.
But it's gone.
So I settle for nightmares. They come easy. History repeating.
I toss and turn in the bed as my nose wrinkles with a familiar but out-of-place smell. It fades and my dream takes me to my bedroom where I lie on the bed in my shorts and puff on a cigar, happy with who I am.
Wait.
That wasn't a dream, that was real.
Where am I?
"Junco?"
The strange voice triggers my reflexes. The SEAR comes out from under my shirt and I'm standing on the bed in attack mode before I can even process all my actions.
The large avian is bent down in a defensive stance, his plasma weapon pointing up at my head. "Junco! Put it down, now!"
"Fuck!" I let out a long sigh and retract the SEAR and slip it back into the dock. "What the fuck?"
He watches me step off the bed and stand on the other side of the room, but he does not lower his weapon.
"Ashur?"
He nods.
"Put your fucking weapon away or we're gonna tangle."
"You cannot take that knife out, Junco. Ever. If you do, you're going to get hurt."
I shake my head at him. "It's docked. What more do you want? Put your weapon down, Ashur – or we will fight."
He stands upright and slides his weapon in the holster that hangs at his hip. My eyes trace the familiar smell that woke me and I lean to look past the formidable avian. A smoldering cigar is sitting in an ashtray on the table. "You did that on purpose."
He gives me a crooked smile. "I know you like them. And I was bored. Can you think of a better way to be woken up?"
I just stand there, kinda pissed. "Well, yeah, actually. There are about a thousand better ways of being woken up than having some strange guy in my room smoking a cigar that reminds me of home. Thanks."
Ashur walks over to me and takes my arm and leads me over to the table where he was sitting before I went commando on him. He points to the chair and slides a cigar over. "Here, have one. Relax a little, shit. You're so jumpy."
I don't have it in me to protest and the little gray box that holds the cigar is calling my name. I slide it out, press it to the striker, and puff. "Thanks."
He takes his seat and I do the same, then we both puff in silence as we watch the screen on the far wall. The sound is off, but it's the news so the captions at the bottom of the feed tell all you need to know. I guess some things never change, no matter what world you're on.
"What time is it?"
"2 AM Standard, why? Got plans?" His lips attempt to smile around his stogie.
"What time did I fall asleep?" I say as my attention goes back to the screen.
"Eight or so."
I nod. "Oh."
"Done sleeping then?"
I look back at him. He could be Tier's brother, that's how similar they are. "Probably."
"Want some breakfast?"
"No." Just the thought of food makes me want to heave.
He takes his cigar out of his mouth. "What do you mean, no? You haven't eaten in almost two months."
He's still holding his cigar in his hand, not puffing. "I've already been warned about your eating habits, Junco. I'm in charge of making you eat breakfast, so we're having some."
I screw up my face at him. "I can't think of a single person who would even know what my eating habits are, Ashur. So spare me."
"Both Layla and Tier mentioned your lack of enthusiasm for food."
I snort out a laugh. "And how they hell would they know?"
"They said you were severely undernourished when we took you, that's how."
"Which means nothing. You guys got to see the tail end of what a very bad week does to my appetite, so what? I wouldn't base anything off what I did that week, let alone assume I have an eating disorder."
"Good, then we'll have eggs for breakfast."
"Knock yourself out, Ashur." Just stop fucking talking to me, I don't add.
He gives me a look of superiority, like he won the argument or something, then pushes back his chair and exits the room through the door I thought was the bathroom last night.
I stub out the cigar and go back to bed watching the newscreen. It's all in English but it shows a lot of stuff that makes no sense. Winged people fighting each other. Killing each other actually, in what looks to be an advertisement for an upcoming arena fight of some kind. Some more winged people having a party. Some people with no wings in what looks to be a government session. Some personal interviews. I just sit there in disbelief. I didn't watch the screens much at home, only when on the road, but it's all a little too familiar. I traveled hundreds of millions of miles, I'm on a totally different planet, habitat, whatever, and still the news is filled with the same shit. Violence, parties, and politics. The irony isn't lost.
Ashur returns a few minutes later with eggs and toast and beckons me to the table. At least it's real food and not that shit Tier tried to feed me in the cave. It doesn't look horrible, but my head shakes out a no as he slides the plate in front of me. I keep the disgusted look as I meet his eyes. "If you make me eat that I'll throw up."