Enemy Overnight

by Robin L. Rotham

  Shauss nearly whimpered when her body bowed and splotches of deep red rose in her chest and neck. Peserin, let it be so…

  “Oh shit!” she said tightly. Then she burst into a low wail that escalated to a hoarse scream as she wrenched in his hold over and over again.

  The contractions around his cock were impossible to resist.

  “That’s it, aramai,” he grunted as fire exploded in his loins. “Let it come.”

  His own release had never been so good.

  Chapter Twelve

  His father’s genitals were missing.

  They’d been on display in the stasis field not ten minutes before—he’d looked when he walked through the foyer on his way to the kitchens. He always looked. The neatly severed flesh, though perfectly preserved, was a sight that he couldn’t help but stare at with both awe and bowel-twisting fear. What his father had done to earn such a punishment, no one would say, but it must have been something deadly evil.

  Shauss looked around cautiously before stepping closer. The energy that usually hummed from the crystal pedestal was absent, which meant the security perimeter surrounding it was probably down.

  Probably.

  He put a long, narrow boot on the first step and paused. Nothing. Usually he didn’t make it this far before Boydon was grabbing him by the arm and forcibly escorting him to the yard. Maybe it was a trap, a test of his ability to adhere to the dictates of the BayaDesri. The stasis zone was forbidden to all except she who created it, and she had an army of servants to ensure that her commands were obeyed.

  Shauss hesitated, looking around again. Something told him this wasn’t a test at all, but a sign of larger forces at work. The air didn’t feel right and it wasn’t wholly because of the electrical storm crackling outside the house’s thick-hewn walls. Nor could it be attributed to Crunus’ unusual proximity, the excitement and anticipation of which had consumed the entire valley for weeks.

  No, the atmosphere was replete with malice. Dripping with it. Shauss’ palms were damp with the weight of it on his skin.

  Two more steps and he was standing on the dais, his toes a respectful distance from the tectonite ring marking the leading edge of the security perimeter. Wiping his hands on his pants, he reached up with one finger, going slower the closer he got. Hopefully if there were any energy left in the perimeter, he’d feel the whispers in time to draw back before a major jolt shouted down his arm.

  Booming thunder made him jerk backward with a gasp. His heel went over the edge of the dais and only wheeling his arms and bowing his back kept him from tumbling backward down the steps. Righting himself with a shaky laugh, he shrugged off the sudden tension in his shoulders before approaching the perimeter once more.

  A faint sound made him pause and look down the corridor. Was that a scream?

  Sparing the pedestal a regretful glance, he leaped from the dais to the flagstone floor and let his long legs eat up the corridor as quietly as they could. Instinct took him to his mother’s chamber door.

  He pressed his palm to the reader and was surprised when there was no response.

  “Arbitran?” he asked quietly.

  Silence rang in the corridor.

  The server had never failed to respond to his voice command. Never. It had refused him entry or exit on occasions too numerous to count, but it had never just…ignored him. This was becoming too unnerving.

  A grunt and the sound of scuffling seeped from behind the door and his sense of urgency mounted. Raising his knuckles, he rapped on the door. There was no response.

  Something was going on in there, and instinct screamed that he needed to be inside. Knowing it was forbidden to enter without permission, he shook as he depressed the manual entry tab and pushed open the chamber door.

  It was hard to make sense of the sight that met his eyes. His father knelt over his mother’s waist. She was kicking and bucking and scratching at his leather-clad legs, eyes wild as he shoved something into her mouth with…

  A scabbard?

  Yes—his grandfather’s battle sword gleamed on the floor beside them. But what was in her mouth?

  “What’s the matter, Elona?” his father snarled into her face as he twisted the scabbard with both hands, forcing the object farther down her throat. “Is the taste of my phallus as offensive as you always imagined?”

  Horror prickled over Shauss’s skin. His genitals were missing. He knocked his father off her and tried to pull the chilled flesh from her mouth.

  The horror turned to outright shock when he realized it wasn’t his father’s genitals, but his own—and it wasn’t his mother beneath him, but Jasmine. He was thrusting into her throat and she was sucking his throbbing length even as her eyes bulged with panic. He tried to stop, but it was so good and he was so close, he simply couldn’t pull out. He prayed he would finish before he killed her…

  Shauss jerked awake only to find his cock really was in someone’s mouth. Reacting instinctively, he slapped her off him and rolled to his feet, breathing hard.

  “Empran, full lighting,” he ordered.

  The instant illumination revealed Jasmine holding her cheek, her eyes filled with tears.

  “I’m sorry,” she croaked.

  Horrified, he sat on the side of the bed and grabbed her into his arms. “No, aramai—I’m the one who’s sorry.”

  “You told me not to do that, but I just…”

  “That’s no excuse for striking you in the face. There’s never any excuse for such behavior. Ever.” He held her tight, rubbing her back, sick at the memory of his palm hitting her delicate face. “But I was dreaming about an incident from my childhood and my mind somehow…incorporated you into it.”

  When he said no more, she reached up to stroke his hair back behind his ear. “Can you tell me about it?”

  He sighed and turned into her hand, planting a kiss in the middle of her palm. “It’s an ugly story, but perhaps it’s better for me to share it so you understand my aversion to receiving oral sex.” Or at least part of it.

  When she nodded encouragingly, he settled his back against the headboard and pulled her against his side.

  “My mother was the BayaDesri of our region, a regional governor second in authority only to the Baya of Garathan,” he started, rubbing his chin in her hair. “She was first mated to Boydon and they had Zannen, but after her second pregnancy resulted in a stillborn son, testing revealed that Boydon was unable to sire daughters. She consigned him, and Zannen along with him, to the farm barracks and took my father as mate.”

  “How cold!”

  “Yes, but my study of Terran history shows a similar desire for male progeny.”

  “True.”

  “At any rate, the BayaDesri was none too happy when I arrived, but then she had my two sisters and thus her need for female heirs was satisfied. As was the norm for Garathani mothers, she showed little interest in me. I was my father’s responsibility and I saw very little of her during my formative years.”

  “That sucks,” she said. “I can’t imagine my mother abandoning me to my father’s care.”

  “That was just the way of things then.” He rubbed his chin against her temple. “As a child, I was aware of the undercurrents that pervaded our house, but I didn’t understand them. Boydon told me long after the fact that once my mother had the daughters she desired, she wanted no more children and refused to allow my father to spill his seed inside her. She would drive him to the breaking point, take her own pleasure, and then send him away. Being the proud female she was, she refused to allow him surcease with another and back then we didn’t know about prostate stimulation. He was an angry, frustrated man and she delighted in goading him because she had nothing to fear from him. Like Empran, the house server could have him in neural restraints before he could take a step in her direction, and she slept with her quarters under security.”

  “What a power trip that must have been for her.”

  “No doubt. But one night, when she was in the throes
of her pleasure, he managed to insert himself and ejaculate inside her.” He paused before saying softly, “She had him castrated.”

  * * * * *

  “You’re disgustingly fit this morning,” Tiber accused as Hastion jogged on the cardio platform.

  “Usually that’s something doctors would be happy about,” Hastion said, not the least winded by the brisk pace.

  “Not when I’m trying to figure out what’s wrong with you.”

  “That does always seem to be the way of it.”

  “I should have come with you last night and run more scans.”

  “Dr. Tiber,” Empran said, “report to Infirmary Three for a level-four medical emergency.”

  “Flare me there immediately,” Tiber replied.

  When he appeared in Infirmary Three, it was hard to make sense of the scene that met his eyes. Monica and Ketrok appeared to be having a tug-of-war with a blanket while one of the Terran doctors pulled on Ketrok’s waist.

  Monica saw him. “Tiber, help me get this thing off him!”

  “Peserin, get it off!” Ketrok grated. “It’s killing me!”

  The pregnant blonde nurse, dressed only in a patient gown, leaned against one of the beds, screaming hysterically.

  Cold sweat broke out on Tiber’s neck. “What is it?”

  “The fucking pod thing!” Monica yanked the blanket off to reveal Ketrok’s hands lodged in a steripod.

  Hastion appeared right beside Tiber. “What in Peserin’s hell…?”

  “Lean over!” Tiber yelled at Ketrok. “Get it on the floor.”

  When Ketrok obeyed, grunting with pain, Tiber put his boot on the pod and grasped Ketrok’s shoulders. “Pull!”

  Dr. Snow, his arms still around Ketrok’s waist, leaned back hard trying to pull him free. When their effort failed, Hastion and Monica each put a foot on the pod and grabbed one of Ketrok’s arms.

  They all staggered back as Ketrok’s hands ripped free of the block and Tiber gasped. Holy Powers, the flesh was all but gone!

  Ketrok’s eyes rolled back and he sagged to his knees.

  “Empran, contain this steripod and energize stasis chamber,” Tiber barked.

  When a containment field materialized around the pod, the four of them carried Ketrok’s limp body into the stasis chamber and laid him on the nearest bed. As soon as they were all clear of the chamber and the door closed behind them, Tiber activated the stasis field. Ketrok was instantly encapsulated in blue light.

  “What the fuck happened?” Monica breathed, staring at him through the observation port.

  “I have no idea. Empran, full pathology scan,” Tiber ordered, checking the chamber’s readouts to make sure it was functioning properly.

  “Monica!” came a pitiful cry.

  “Oh shit, Shelley!”

  Tiber turned. The nurse was in Hastion’s arms, her eyes closed and her face bloodless.

  “I think she fainted,” he said.

  “I didn’t faint!” Shelley’s eyes opened, dilated and glassy. “I just got dizzy. Jesus, that block tried to eat Dr. Ketrok!” She let her forehead rest on Hastion’s bare shoulder again.

  “Put her on the bed,” Monica ordered.

  “I’m fine,” she insisted. “He’s the one who needs help.”

  Commander Kellen appeared.

  “Monica, are you all right?” He pulled her into his arms. “What’s happening to Ketrok? Where is he?”

  “That steripod.” Tiber nodded toward the cube on the floor. It must have come from Ketrok’s lab because the infirmary pod still occupied its customary place on the work table. “It did try to eat him. His hands are…” He shook his head, feeling slightly dizzy himself. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “Where is he?” Kellen repeated.

  “In stasis,” Hastion said. “Go look at his hands. They’re…destroyed.”

  Being in the commander’s arms seemed to be the trigger Monica needed to let go of her control and she began to shake visibly.

  “I was just standing here talking to Shelley when I heard this awful scream. I turned around and Ketrok was stumbling toward me with his hands stuck in that block.” She sucked in a shaky breath, tears spilling down her cheeks.

  “Hush, Monica.” Kellen pressed his lips against her temple.

  “Hamburger.” She gulped. “They look like fucking hamburger.” Closing her eyes, she rested her forehead on his chest.

  “What is his condition?”

  “The damage is catastrophic,” Tiber said grimly. “It will take several weeks to regenerate the tissue.”

  “Do you have any idea what caused it?”

  “I’m waiting for initial scans, but the pod is obviously contaminated with a virulent pathogen of some sort.”

  “Notify Shauss and get microscience in here. We need to figure out what it is before it hurts anyone else.”

  “Oh God,” Shelley groaned. “I think I’m in labor.”

  * * * * *

  Jasmine’s eyes widened in horror. “How awful!”

  Shauss nodded pensively. Remembering that first glimpse of his father’s severed flesh still curled his stomach. “His preserved genitals occupied pride of place in the main foyer of the house, locked in a stasis field that only she was allowed to approach. It was definitely a message, not just to my father, but to all the males of the House—indeed, of the region.”

  “I can’t believe that was legal!”

  “Technically, it wasn’t, but there wasn’t much to be done about it. One had to go through channels to lodge complaints with the Baya, and the BayaDesri was one of those channels.”

  “So complaints just got tied up in red tape.”

  “Exactly. My father became an exceedingly bitter, silent man after that. Boydon told me that nine months later, my mother delivered a baby boy who was officially declared stillborn, but she took great satisfaction in reporting to him that the doctor had let the child bleed out at the umbilicus. Thereafter, my father was like a man possessed. He seemed never to sleep, rarely ate, was always muttering to himself.

  “Finally, during the Crunus Uprising, when main power systems were out and the server was down, he took his severed genitals from the display and shoved them down her throat. I happened upon the scene and tried to save her, but the flesh was wedged too deeply.” He looked down at her. “That’s what I was dreaming about, and somehow your face became superimposed on hers.”

  “I’m so sorry,” she said. “What happened to your father?”

  “He locked me out of the room and ended his own life with his father’s sword so that I wouldn’t have to witness his execution.”

  “Oh Shauss…”

  “Perhaps it was all for the best. Boydon raised me, and though Zannen and I fought like tigers most of the time, I was well taken care of.”

  “Why do you hate each other so much?”

  Shauss reflected for a moment. “Hate might be too strong a word. Full-blood brothers fight even under the best of circumstances, and ours were hardly that. He resented what he perceived as my privileged life in the house, and that resentment only increased after he lost his hair and was designated a slave. He’s always been jealous of what I had.”

  “And what did you resent?” she asked softly.

  He gave her a startled look. “I didn’t resent anything.” But even as the words left his mouth, he wondered about their veracity.

  “Lieutenant Shauss, report to Infirmary Three at once.”

  “My apologies, but I’ve been summoned.” He rose and dressed quickly. “I’ll return as soon as I can.”

  * * * * *

  When he walked through the door, Tiber said curtly, “I’ll report after we avert the most immediate crisis. Nurse Bonham is in premature labor.”

  Shauss nodded and got out of his way, frowning at the implication there was more than one crisis.

  Kellen and Hastion stood by the stasis chamber window. Although Kellen was in uniform, Hastion wore only shorts and a surgical t
op. Shauss raised his brow at Hastion’s attire but said nothing.

  Opening the medical supply cabinet, Tiber withdrew two bottles.

  “Trilimin is highly effective at halting labor and algicort will stimulate surfactant production in the fetuses. Both can be easily administered transdermally.” He held up the small transdermal dosing button. “I would advise implanting a biomet unit so that we may monitor the patient’s vital functions without confining her to the infirmary.”

  Monica stroked Shelley’s hair back. “Are you good with him helping us?”

  Shelley, white-faced and obviously in pain, merely nodded. “Where’s Mark?”

  “He’s on his way,” Monica said.

  When Kellen beckoned, Shauss stepped over to the stasis chamber. What he saw through the port made him shudder. Ketrok’s hands looked like they’d been skinned. Even from here, he could see bare bones and shredded tendons.

  “What in Peserin’s hell did this?” he murmured.

  “That steripod.” Kellen nodded toward a pod on the floor.

  When Shauss approached it, Monica cried, “No, Shauss, don’t touch it!”

  “Easy, sweet one.” He crouched to stare at the steripod. “Even if I were inclined to touch it, the containment field wouldn’t let me.”

  “Empran’s preliminary analysis indicates it might have been contaminated with a genetically engineered virus similar to the one infecting the pad on Voya Deck,” Tiber said.

  “Similar, but with a deadly difference,” Shauss pointed out. “The pod looks completely normal.”

  “All steripods are in containment until they’re cleared by microscience,” Kellen said. “Access to the infirmaries is restricted until we pinpoint the cause of this incident. We must assume sabotage until it’s proven otherwise.”

  Once he’d shown Monica and Dr. Snow how to prepare the medications and applied an infused button to the nurse’s upper chest, Tiber moved to the sink to wash his hands.

  “What is Ketrok’s prognosis?” Shauss asked, rising.

  “Stasis appears to have halted the progress of the infection.” Tiber dried his hands on a surgical towel. “After microscience determines the pathology and an effective course of treatment, I’ll remove him from stasis and apply regeneration gloves. He’ll probably have to wear them for several weeks while the nerves and tendons regenerate.”