Syn-En: Registration

by Linda Andrews

  By whom?

  Unknown. Admiral, I’ve been targeted by the antiviral software.

  Bei spied the salivating Dobermans closing in on his access point. Fall back, cerebral interface communications only.

  The Scraptor’s bug eyes twitched. “You sit over there.” The guard’s raised claw pointed to an empty bench under the camera. Turning to Keyes, he indicated another seat across the room. “You over there. If you come closer than five lengths, I will shoot the digger.”

  Guess tossing that boulder had made an impression. Or… Bei checked the inhabitants. Or the spy, Abraham, had said something that had the guards on high alert. Bei checked his internal clock. Thirty-five minutes. He’d have to reactivate his communications officer through her interface.

  “Move,” the Scraptor rumbled.

  Bei raised his hands. “I’m moving.”

  Keyes sauntered over to her appointed bench. She studied the ground as she walked.

  Bei collapsed onto the bench and opened a channel. Keyes.

  His communications officer raised her head and opened her mouth.

  A scream swirled around the cavern.

  Chapter 21

  Nell swallowed the lump in her throat. Her and her big mouth. No doubt every word traveled for miles in the network of tunnels and led them straight to her. She looked around for Elvis.

  Standing near her leg, the Amarook was camouflaged but hadn’t left her.

  Dressed in bulky red armor, a hulk of a humanoid blocked her exit. “So this is a Human from Earth?”

  Six more Scraptors surrounded him. All of them had rifles pointed at her.

  Elvis’s worry flooded her head. He flashed images of himself fighting, but they both knew it was hopeless. Scraptor armor had been designed with Amarooks in mind. Besides, there were just too many for him to fight.

  And God knew where her stun-gun was, or if it would even work on the Scorpion-like aliens. She sent him an image of the shuttle. With him safe, he could at least reach the ship and send the warning message.

  Pet stood beside her. “She’s not from Earth. She’s an escapee from the Munican embassy.”

  “And I’m sure you have the forged papers to prove it, eh, Pet?” Scorpio opened his mandibles, flashing sharp teeth. “We know all about you, thanks to this one.” Striding forward, he flicked a claw toward Anwar.

  Fists at the ready, Pet stepped toward the traitor. “You bastard!”

  Anwar raised his chin and stood his ground. “I had to help my brother. I had to get him medicine.”

  “That’s right. Your medicine.” Scorpio raised his hands. Instead of handing over something, the Scraptor grasped Anwar’s head and twisted it.

  The traitor’s spine popped. He collapsed, his head facing the opposite direction from his feet.

  Now might be a good time to run. Nell willed her body to move, but her feet seemed to have melted into the rock. Paper crinkled in her grasp. The map lead to the embassy, the Ck’son, the Shish, the Padgows and Humans. The Scraptors mustn’t find it. She shuffled it across her fingers, held it out behind her. Eat it, Elvis. Don’t let them find it.

  Scorpio stared at her. His bubble eyes glistened in the light. “As for you…”

  Elvis tugged on her shirt.

  Too late. She was going to die. She ordered the Amarook to run, finish what she couldn’t.

  “Show them your brand.” Pet’s voice spiked two octaves. He grasped her wrist and shoved up her sleeve. “Show them whose property you are.”

  “She isn’t anyone’s property and there won’t be enough left of her to be useful when I’m done with her.” Scorpio laughed, a raspy sound reeking of evil thoughts and ill will.

  The devil probably sounded just like that when bad people arrived in Hell. Nell swayed. Her dinner threatened to revisit her mouth. How many people threw up on Satan when they heard that laugh?

  “You mean…” Pet shook his head. “No. No. It can’t be.”

  “Yes. She’s from Earth.” Scorpio stroked her cheek.

  His skin was hard and cold. Like his heart. Like his species. Warmth flowed through Nell’s veins. She sensed Elvis moving away, sprinting down the tunnels. He ran for help, ran to warn the Syn-En about the threat and Bei’s captivity. The Scraptor might kill her, but she would win in the end.

  And Scorpio here wouldn’t have the satisfaction of seeing her crumble and beg.

  She jerked away from the Scraptor. “Don’t touch me.”

  Scorpio’s mandibles clacked together. “Such a waste of spirit.”

  Pet’s legs buckled. He buried his face in his hands. “No. No.”

  “She’s also your death sentence.” Scorpio walked behind Nell. “We were going to claim you when we took over the Skaperian embassy in fifteen axis spins. Household staff is very hard to find. But… You know about Earth, and if word got around that one of the Founding Five interfered with registration, well… we could be tied up for years in court debating legalities. In this economic downturn, we must protect the bottom line. Bonuses must be paid.”

  Profit. This all came down to profit. Nell tugged on her connection with Elvis. Warn the others! Then hide. She faced the scumbag Scraptor. “Humans will die before they let you take them again.”

  Scorpio shrugged. “Then we will claim your planet. There is much profit to be had from Earth.”

  She swung for his bug eye.

  “Fire!”

  Pain rocketed through her body, shaking her entire frame and changing her bones to kindling. Oh, God! She was going to die. Clamping her lips together, she felt her body fold. She may die, but she wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of screaming or begging. Blackness crowded her vision.

  “Kepow, finish up here. The rest of you come with me.” All but one Scraptor headed down the tunnels, back the way they’d come.

  The ground rose up to meet her just as the remaining one tossed gasoline on the fire raging inside her. She tasted Elvis’s anger and fear, sent him images of her petting him, feeding him animal heads. Her parting gift to an amazing friend plus a last request. Tell Bei I lo——

  Pain severed her connection.

  “It’s time to hunt an Amarook and skin it alive!” Scorpio’s shout bounced off the walls.

  Be safe, Elvis. Please be safe.

  Her thoughts faded as the fire consumed her.

  Chapter 22

  Bei stiffened on the bench in the center of the pleasure rooms. Around him, the Deutche clan fell silent. All attention focused on Ruth as her scream died.

  Everyone but the Scraptor. The guard raised his energy rifle and aimed at Bei’s heart.

  Bei’s fingers bit into the cold rock bench. Just what had caused the guards to be on edge? He’d love to know, but that damn antivirus prowled cyberspace, looking for his signature. While he could only bounce his signal off the mainframe, his communications officer could do so much more.

  He needed Keyes online. Unfortunately, he’d have to wait until the guard relaxed. He wouldn’t want to get accidentally shot. At least, not yet. Bei paused his breathing subroutines.

  “Zowie!” Standing by the dessert table, Ruth flashed the whites of her eyes before she squeezed them shut. “This is so good!”

  Men and women chuckled. Conversation burbled around him. Two boys dropped their buckets of rocks and zoomed to the table. Ruth dropped a candy in their outstretched hands. They popped it into their mouths and chewed vigorously, cheeks bulging.

  In a swirl of steam, Job stepped out of the showers. His gray tunic and trousers molded to his wet skin. The leader surveyed the crowd before his attention fell on the guard and Bei. “Ruth! Why are you carrying on?”

  The little girl spun at her father’s words. Raising her palm, she flashed a mound of brown candy. “It’s a new kind of chocolate!”

  Laughter hummed inside Bei’s head. Familiar laughter. Keyes?

  Across the room, his communications officer batted her curls behind her shoulder. Here I thought Nell Stafford’s addi
ction to chocolate was unique.

  Keyes remembered. Bei leaned forward on the bench. When did your memories return?

  About an hour after I woke up. She accepted a plate of food from a thin man. I’ve been covering your ham-handed fumbling in ET’s programming ever since. How could they have promoted you to Admiral when your cyber-stealth skills are cadet level?

  Bei grinned. He could always count on Keyes to razz him, especially when they communicated through the Wireless Array. It’s good to have you back.

  His plan could begin without delay.

  I can’t believe ET thought a little code would undo a lifetime of memories. They’re stupider than they look. Tilting her head, she shifted her attention to the guard. And that’s saying something. External body armor, even grafted onto their skin, is last century upgrades on Earth.

  They have a phobia of technology. But they’re not that stupid.

  The Scraptor’s nictitating membrane slid over half his bug eyes, turning them milky white. Lowering his barrel, the guard scuttled backward until he stood next to the elevator.

  Bei pushed off the bench. I should probably eat while we talk.

  The Scraptor’s eyes cleared, but he didn’t raise his weapon.

  I would look at other people, but all the men seem to think that is an invitation into my bed. Keyes gathered her long locks and draped the curls over her shoulder.

  Smoothing his tunic over his flat stomach, Alfred sidled closer.

  Reaching the buffet table, Bei studied the fresh fruit and vegetables. He caressed the rough skin of an orange, measured the oil levels with his fingers. Returning to eating processed food couldn’t happen soon enough. You should stop playing with your hair.

  I’m not playing with my hair. It’s knotted from that delousing soap. She shook a few strands from her fingers.

  I may know that and you may know that, but to humans it is flirting. Bei flipped back the tip of his index finger and slid the small blade under the orange’s rind, peeling it away from the fruit. Oils misted the orange. He activated his synthetic skin and pulled them out of the air.

  Maybe playing with real human hair is flirting, but—

  Alfred dropped onto the bench next to Keyes.

  Bei’s officer straightened before shifting to the right to make room.

  Job bumped Bei’s elbow. “My wife told me you’re forbidden to speak privately with the new dame.”

  “Yes.” Picking up a plate, he dropped the peeled orange onto it and handed both to the leader. Bei ducked his head and stuffed a piece of the rind into his mouth.

  Furrows marred Job’s forehead and his nose wrinkled, but he accepted the plate and began loading up slabs of meat and cut fruit.

  Bei swallowed his mouthful. “I need the oils to help flush the grit out of my systems.”

  The fiber would help counter the effects of the food that he’d eaten.

  “Ah, I see.” Job bit the orange, juices ran down his chin and dripped off. “It’s much better peeled, not as bitter.”

  Bei blinked. They normally ate the rind? He tucked another bite into his cheek, not bothering to hide it this time.

  No civilian paid him any attention. Bug-ugly wouldn’t take his bubble eyes off Bei.

  “Are the guards normally so vigilant in the pleasure rooms?” He would have expected the opposite. On Earth, humans tended to be well behaved so the privileges wouldn’t be revoked.

  “Either that shill Abraham ratted on you, or word got around about your little potshot with the boulder yesterday.” Job polished off the orange and wiped his damp fingers on his shirt. “Then again, other clans are reporting that the Scraptors aren’t up to their normal bread and circuses.”

  Bei checked his communication subroutine. Still didn’t translate. “Bread and circuses?”

  “For show.” Job bit off the stem of a banana and spit it on the floor. “We can always tell when the high-hats have come to gander at the lowly humans that keep ‘em in the scratch. The guards always polish up and return to enforcing the rules and regulations.”

  “Good to know.” Picking up another orange, Bei tossed it from hand to hand. An important person could be on site. If so, perhaps they wanted to see the Syn-En in action. His blood heated. Which meant, the Scraptors and their allies planned to harvest Earth.

  And it was his fault.

  Admiral?

  Compression sensors flared inside Bei’s head. He stared at the orange pulp in his hand before licking the streams of juice running down his arm. I need you to review my escape plans, Keyes.

  Aye, Sir. She tossed back her head and laughed at something Alfred said. Have you heard of the civilian’s plans?

  Hell no! Bei turned toward the leader. “You have a plan?”

  Gaze locked on the mashed orange, Job swallowed hard and nodded. “My people will carry your message to her. The men first, then the women. Each will take a turn, so the guards won’t suspect.”

  Of course bug-ugly would suspect. Bei chewed half the pulp. Christ, the civilians were placing themselves in danger for him. No. Not him, for freedom.

  Job stiffened. “We’ve done it before. After the Surlat strain hit, embassies emptied. A few folks at a time would head for them. They just wanted to live free.”

  “What happened?”

  “The first ones caught were returned. But some never were heard from again. Rumor has it, they made it. Soon folks abandoned ship like rats. It became an epidemic and effected quotas. After a while, those caught were killed. Their bodies dumped in front of the clans.”

  “As a deterrent.” Earth had done similar things, but the Syn-En hadn’t been a party to the slaughter. Many of his superiors had argued that murder violated Syn-En programming and hinted at darker repercussions if the failsafe were overridden.

  The Earth council had heeded the warning a little too well. Soon the Syn-En themselves had found themselves in the crosshairs.

  Job nodded. “The deterrent worked for most, but…”

  “But freedom is worth the risk and the price.” Nell’s words came out of Bei’s mouth. Perhaps, he could give the civilians a job without endangering them.

  Admiral, what should I tell him? He’s becoming most insistent that I give him a message for you. Keyes’s sandal heel tapped the stone floor.

  Tell him something innocuous.

  Like he’ll believe that my words to you are the sky is blue.

  He will if he thinks it’s code. These humans are used to carrying on plots in front of the bug-uglies. And they had done something similar to him in the mines when Job planned to evict him from the clan.

  Understood.

  Bei dropped the remains of his orange on the table. “You want the first message?”

  “Not me.” Job added a few grapes to his mounded plate. “Married folk aren’t supposed to talk to the breeders. As is our custom, the single folks are on the left and the spoken for on the right.”

  Bei scanned the room. The groups had divided themselves according to marital status. Of course, the children under twelve didn’t abide the rules and the buffet tables were the exception.

  “And speaking of custom, I’d better see to my wife.” Carrying his plate, Job turned away. “Since the bread, she’s wanted to jazz, morning and night.”

  Bei doubted the man referred to the music.

  “Ruth!” Job crossed the room. “That’s enough candy. Go play while there’s still time.”

  The little girl’s shoulders slumped and she shuffled toward the corner where a broken ore cart and buckets waited. “Yes, sir.”

  The leader’s wife met him halfway across the room, wrapped her arm around his waist, and whispered into his ear.

  He flushed before hustling toward an open room.

  Bei isolated the spurt of envy. He’d be with his own wife soon enough. Have you checked the plan?

  Aye. But I don’t like using ET’s relays to send a message to the fleet. ET’s security protocols could easily track the signal to our peo
ple. Keyes lifted Alfred’s hand off her knee and carefully placed it on the bench.

  We can send the message from the surface. Bei’s skin absorbed the orange residue. Should he have one more piece or join the others?

  The Scraptors have ears on the Skaperian embassy. Any message we send could be intercepted. Keyes patted Alfred’s hand before he rose.

  The clansman nodded. Instead of heading straight for Bei, Alfred walked toward the cluster of his comrades.

  The civilians definitely had done this before. Bei scratched his upper lip to hide his smile.

  Ruth stopped short of the play area in the corner. After checking over her shoulder, she skipped back to the dessert table and scraped off several handfuls of candy into her shirt.

  Bei shifted his weight. I don’t plan to use the Skaperian embassy to send a signal. We’ll use the Icarus. Given what the bug-uglies think of humans, I doubt they’ll look for our signal.

  Keyes locked her gaze on him. I am sorry about Nell, Admiral. She was…

  Is. Nell isn’t dead. He sent his communications officer the file of the deleted photos from Icarus’s supposed explosion.

  Even with my implants, I don’t think I’ll ever be as creative as your wife.

  I’m sure Rome appreciates it. God knew, some of the things Bei’s beloved wife did could strip the color off his synthetic hair.

  Juggling her shirt full of candy, Ruth stopped in front of him. “I brought you some candy.”

  She’s fond of you.

  Ruth thinks my eyes are fascinating.

  The little girl juggled her shirt’s contents. Chocolate smeared her lips. “You have to eat these. All of them, we can’t take any back to our house.” She popped one in her mouth and chewed. “They’re sooooo tasty.”

  “Thank you.” Nell would love these. Bei picked up a lumpy candy. His sensors detected cocoa, vanilla, sugar and insects. Maybe not. “But aren’t you supposed to be playing?”

  Her nose wrinkled. “It’s boring.”

  “I’d like to see.” Crouching down, Bei held out his shirt for the candy. And he could use sweets dispersal to retrieve his secret message without arousing suspicion.

  Frowning, Ruth transferred the candy. “I’m not sick like last time.”