by PJ Schnyder
Boggle must have had an epiphany because he perked up in his moto-chair and sat forward, fingers skimming so fast over his console the hologram couldn’t display more than a blur. “Original surveys show several structures. Hard to tell how old, but definitely more advanced than the primitive biologics theorized to live on the surface could make. I’ll shoot you the images taken from orbit by Rygard’s team. They won’t be much help on the ground in terms of distance or game-trails but they should give you an idea of what direction to begin scouting.”
“Any idea what type of biologics those were? Were they native?” They hadn’t sounded like any animal she’d ever encountered. Some of those sounds, they had speech-like quality. If she played the sound tracks back slow, she might learn more.
“Original scans showed primates, but much smaller than these and didn’t exhibit anywhere near the level of intelligence the attack suggests. Initial survey team called them simians. The native biologics look like something between a Terran baboon and chimpanzee.” Two images flashed up side by side for her to study. Boggle’s attention was fixed on one of his side monitors, probably reading the original reports. Reports he shouldn’t have had access to. She’d learned it was better for them all if she didn’t ask how he got to the information he dug up.
“We didn’t get a clear picture of them before he covered the image capture or I’d be able to tell you more. Still, something didn’t sound right in there, too much of a call and response pattern to be random aggression. Those things were communicating, maybe coordinating their attack. I’ve got the sound tracks all isolated and sending them encrypted now.”
“Any chance our friends are watching for transmissions?” Joint mission or no, Petrico-Calin had been doing a good job of drawing the line between his teams and Dev’s crew. Not uncommon with certain military commanding officers, but it made it very hard to work as a team. Those sorts of missions usually resulted in a very detailed division of duties. Dev rolled with those missions, keeping his own team dynamic and ready to handle whatever duties came their way with efficiency. He also had taught her a few things about covering their collective asses to be sure any snafu on the part of their partners didn’t reflect back on them.
Boggle grinned. “They’re trying to monitor. No worries. All of our communications are encrypted and tagged to appear as video game sessions. The data I’m sending now is going to look like a patch to one of the bigger MMORPGs. I’m including the install to the actual game for your terminal in case they decide to check.”
Kaitlyn rolled her eyes. “Refresh my memory. MMORPG?”
He’d mentioned those games to her, she was sure of it. Boggle had tried to get her to play, there just hadn’t been time before. She had to give him credit though, finding an excuse to have it readily installed on her machine.
“Massively multiplayer online role-playing game.” Boggle popped a few brief info screens up on the holo. “Tough to play aboard ship unless you’ve got strong send and receive, but Dev’s ship can handle it unless you all travel too far from the outermost space stations or beacons. Where you’re going, as long as you and I can communicate, you could be theoretically gaming. Works for your transmissions with Rygard too. I set up a different kind of game for him though, to help keep the files straight.”
Kaitlyn chewed on the concept. “I appreciate the consideration.”
Boggle leaned forward, wetting his lips and giving her an unsure-but-game smile, his expression suddenly earnest. “You’ll find him. He’s tough enough to hold out until you get there.”
Despite the situation, she couldn’t help the warmth spreading through her chest. One of the best things Dev and Skuld could have ever done had to be dropping her on Dysnomia Station. She’d never admit it—not to them and not to nerd boy.
“Thank you.” Boggle looked up and she gave him a small nod. “I’ll check out the info and install the game. Maybe you can do a walk through with me after this mission.”
Boggle scratched at his scalp. “Your game with Rygard is a first person shooter game, since you’re supposed to be learning to use side arms. It’s pretty popular among the troops so Rygard might have played it already anyway.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Have the two of you been talking behind my back?”
“Maybe.” Boggle admitted. Oh and he was truly breaking into a sweat. The fine sheen on his skin reflected light from his monitor displays. “I might be helping him arrange a few new gifts for you.” He tapped a finger against his arm rest. “That’s all I’ll tell you, ’cause you’re not here to pressure me anyway. Besides, it’s supposed to be a surprise.”
She shook her head. “We’ll have to make sure you are never interrogated. Ever.”
“No worries.” Boggle waved. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Kaitlyn took a sharp look at his hologram. Too flippant, and the undercurrent of wistful resignation wasn’t just her imagination.
“Find Rygard, Kat. Hit me up if you have any new data for me to analyze and I’ll keep an eye on the transmissions. Signing off.”
He terminated the holo projection, leaving her staring at empty space. If she came out of the next mission alive, she’d have to figure out how to chase the unhappiness out of his voice.
* * *
A whine sounded outside her door, followed by a soft woof and light scratching.
Speaking of unhappy.
Kaitlyn waited, but she didn’t hear the telltale footsteps of the dog’s handler. Why would the mutt be out there alone?
Another minute passed and the light scratching came again. Not obnoxious, almost discreet.
Uncurling from her seat, she walked across the room and palmed the door open.
The dog, Max, stood there with his head up, ears forward. He waved his tail in a gentle tock-tock. Still, there was something different about his stance. His balance wasn’t distributed evenly over all four paws.
“Where’s your human?” A little silly to be talking to a dog, maybe, but the rest of the crew had gotten over any weirdness they experienced when they spoke to her in cat form. It wasn’t the same, but this animal was supposed to be smarter than normal canines.
Big ears dipped. He dropped his nose to the threshold and then looked back at her and whined again.
At least he was a polite canine.
“You can come in if you have a real reason to be here. If you’re just bored, you can go away.”
She watched as he walked into her territory, shoving down her growing aggression. She didn’t like letting another large predator into her space, and while this dog couldn’t take her, he was still more dangerous than most humans. But as he walked past her, her attention settled on his near hind leg. The coppery scent of blood tinged the air. Looking at the floor, she realized he was leaving bloody paw prints behind him.
“Stop where you are.” The dog cocked his head sideways. “Either get up on one of the stretchers or lay on your side on the floor where you stand. You can choose, but get your weight off that paw.”
She kept one eye on the dog as he stared at her, seeming to consider his choices. She stepped into the doorway to look both ways down the hall. No bloody paw prints. He must have licked up the blood along the way to keep from leaving a trail. Not a bad solution for hiding the blood.
“You’re lucky I had a solid dinner.” The scent of blood excited her and the prospect of a wounded animal in her territory perked her interest, but she had no need to wrestle with her hunger. She always had extra protein bars in her ship suit pockets to keep herself on a full belly if she ever had to work on crew mates.
While she’d been checking his trail, her new patient had hopped up on one of the stretchers, putting him at waist level.
She closed the door and approached him, slow and wary. He might have come to her, but wounded was still dangerous regardless of man or beast
. “You want to show me what happened?”
He laid back his ears.
She raised an eyebrow. “Hey, you came to me. Obviously it means you can’t take care of it yourself.”
A pause and the ears drooped. He shifted his weight partially to one side so he could extend the injured hind leg without completely exposing his belly. She couldn’t blame him. She had problems presenting herself in a vulnerable position too. As it was, the predator in her couldn’t resist eyeing the soft flesh of his underbelly, consider the ease of disembowelment. Long practice allowed her the self-control to keep her claws in. He’d come to her for healing, and the healer had been a part of her long before the cat aspect had made things complicated. A long, steady breath helped her find the conviction she called on to work on every patient to enter her medical bay. It was stronger than her cat urges, kept the predatory instinct locked away. It was enough for her to take a look at this patient’s injury.
Instead of raising the ambient room lights to full, she snagged a standing lamp with her foot to bring it closer and toed the slider to bring up a small area of light for her to get a good look at the paw. Normally, she used the smaller flash light she carried in one of her ship suit pockets to avoid disturbing other patients in the room but in this case, she thought the dog would feel calmer with fewer things in her hands. She would in his place.
“It’s not a constant bleed.” She studied his extended leg without touching it first. No blood dripped from his paw and he hadn’t left a bloody trail between each spot he’d put his paw down. He’d only bled when he’d put pressure on it.
None of the claws were broken, which had been her first thought. A broken claw, especially when the break was right above the quick, hurt like hell. She’d done it in cat form once or twice.
“What have you got stuck in there?”
He answered with a soft woof.
She took his paw in a gentle hold. Using her fingers to separate his pads, she immediately saw the issue.
“Now where did you pick that up, the holding bay?”
A nasty piece of metal was lodged in the side of one pad, between two toes. It must have gotten wedged in there as he stepped and turned. If he’d placed his paw directly on it, it would have pierced the underside of the pad and he’d have been able to pull it out with his teeth. There was evidence he’d tried anyway. The pad and the skin between his toes appeared irritated.
Straightening, she reached into one of the drawers next to the stretcher. “This is just a surface disinfectant.” The astringent scent of the stuff also killed any appetite the scent of blood might have awoken in her. A quick swab to the area and she continued on with her next step. “I’m going to pull this out now. It won’t tickle. Promise you won’t bite me.”
The dog’s only answer was a grunt.
She pulled the offending piece of metal out slowly in case it had a jagged edge that might snag the inner flesh. The less damage to the pad and underlying tissue, the better, especially if he had to be ready to run as soon as they hit planet side. As it was, she’d recommend the dog and his handler scout away from her, so she wouldn’t be tempted to chase him down in his injured state.
“It’s out, but stay still. I want to flush it out and get a sealant on it.”
He held steady for her, more obedient than even the best of her human patients. Well, he was used to following commands of sorts so it shouldn’t be surprising. Still, he understood human speech fine though she noticed he watched a lot of body language in addition to listening to words. It’d be interesting to hear what a telepath had to say about the dog’s thought processes because in his case, she’d be hard pressed to make the definitive assessment of whether he counted as sentient or not.
“The sealant will dissolve on its own in about a week.” She cleaned up her work space. “No chewing on it, even if your paw itches, or I will put a cone of shame on you.”
The dog growled as he hopped down off the stretcher. After a moment, he gave her a final whine and a quick lick to her hand and then headed for the door.
She let him out. “You seem to have more sense than most of my patients, so you’re welcome. Come back if it starts to swell or feel hot.”
A very quiet bark and he trotted on down the corridor.
For a canine, he wasn’t half bad. She liked him better than most humans.
Chapter Eight
“I was wondering when you’d be back.” Bharguest stirred in the recesses of his cell, the only light from the energy field keeping him confined. The rest of the room’s lights had been turned down to night setting. Dark as it was, a human might only have seen the whites of his eyes and his teeth as he spoke. “You were entertaining earlier this evening. I wanted to thank you.”
“I never fight to entertain others.” Kaitlyn hopped onto a counter on the wall opposite his cell, making herself comfortable but still ready to move if need be.
“Oh, never has a finality to it most of us can’t afford to honor.” He slid closer to the energy field, the light touching his forehead and cheekbones. In the harsh contrast of light and shadows, his face became an inhuman mask.
She was betting the mask was closer to his inner beast than his human facade.
“I came to ask more questions.” She didn’t bother to try to sound innocent or enticing. They both liked it better when she spoke frankly and besides, she was feeling neither of those things in the moment.
Bharguest turned his head to the right, his head almost resting on his shoulder. “But you’re still not getting to the real questions, Kaitlyn Darah. Ask me. I might answer.”
Come closer, my dear, so I can see you better.
Wasn’t that from an ancient children’s tale?
“Questions limit the answers.” Kaitlyn kicked her feet a little, giving in just a bit to the invitation to play. She let her cat out enough to show in her eyes. “In my opinion, any knowledge is worth something eventually. So why don’t you share what you feel like sharing?”
He chuckled again. “Very good.”
She shrugged.
“The virus, the one they infected you with to change you, how did they introduce it to your system?” His tongue darted out, tasted the air as he waited.
Ah, at least she hadn’t had to wait long for him to make his first move in this session of chess. “A tattoo gun inked it into my skin.”
The machine had been small and sleek, hand held. A thousand tiny needles had plunged into her flesh in unison, injecting the virus into her system as ink had been buried indelibly into her skin. She’d been left with an instant tattoo of a panther on her left thigh and the virus burning through her cells.
“They branded you.”
“Yes.” Neutral. She’d shared the same information in her briefings enough times for the retelling to become easy.
He righted his head, his gaze never leaving her. “Tch. No imagination. It doesn’t have to be spread across so much surface area to infect a small humanoid of your size. You know that right? A single air gun or hypodermic syringe would work just as well.”
“Yes.” One injection site would have sufficed. Less of the actual solution carrying the virus would have as well. Her research had provided conclusive results in terms of how much of the virus it would take to infect a fully grown human. They’d given her and her fellow captured classmates more than necessary and most likely the overdose was why the others had died. Maybe. She still wasn’t sure.
“Me, they branded too, but they were disappointed with the results. The brand doesn’t show up easily on dark skin.” He was dark as the shadows around him, a perfect ebony. “The animal vector they introduced has a strong healing factor, stronger than mammals.”
Narrowed down her list of things he could be in addition to human genetic stock. It also added to the ick factor. She wasn’t a fan of cold-blo
oded species in general.
“And the shape shift, it varies from person to person. Doesn’t it?”
He grinned, all white teeth. “Yes.” He drew it out long. Maybe he wanted her to believe he was part snake, but he wasn’t. She’d smelled snakes of various species and they all had a certain musk to them. No, he was something else—similar, but different.
“Have you changed for your military friends yet? Did they ask what you could be?” She was betting he hadn’t. They’d be more frightened of him.
“Oh they asked.” He turned away from her, rolling his shoulders. Cords of muscle rippled in his neck. She heard his jaw pop. “But I wasn’t in the mood. They took blood samples too. I imagine they’ll figure it out eventually.”
She wouldn’t mind a few samples herself. ’’Course, she was betting the samples the Terran military acquired had an associated body count. Now wasn’t the time to take such a risk to satisfy her curiosity. Besides, it’d give Dev heartburn.
“Even with cold-blooded animals, the possibilities are numerous.” She was running through a list of choices herself. “They’d do better analyzing your saliva.”
“Smart, smart girl.” He turned back to her, grinning more now, with his jaw hanging low and open. “You’re getting warmer.”
“Doesn’t take much to run warmer than you though, does it?” The scientist in her wanted to take some readings on him, get baseline biometrics and run them against his responses to their conversations.
He didn’t close his jaw. Instead, he continued to grin with it hanging open and flicked the tip of his tongue against the edges of his upper teeth. “For you? No. For some of the neckless wonders in uniform? We’ve got a little more in common than I’d prefer.”
“I can think of one or two who might’ve come from under a rock somewhere. Not the type to spark any kind of warm thoughts.” She’d commiserate with him on that point.
“None of the people on board this ship do, not really.” His tongue flicked across his teeth again. “Oh you’re loyal to your captain and fond of him too, but he doesn’t generate a real ‘spark.’ Your little engineer doesn’t do it for you either. They’re friends, maybe family in the ways that really count. But they don’t get you hot and bothered.”