Orphans In the Black: A Space Opera Anthology

by Amy J. Murphy

  “Not at this time.”

  “Ah.” He looked away, but not before Masika saw the disappointment in his eyes.

  She sighed, not sure how to handle his interest.

  They turned down a deserted street into a tunnel that branched off from the big cave. Elegant brass plaques on the wall advertised Moon Rock Distillery and its tasting hours. More recent additions in paper and marker emphasized the price of the alcohol and the tastings. One read: No free tequila. Ever. Under any circumstances.

  The tunnel ended at a wall and a double gate made from wrought-iron bars, blocking the entrance to a cave much wider than the passage they’d been in. A small parking area held a couple of thrust bikes, a hovercraft, and a two-seat vehicle with giant wheels.

  “Is this supposed to be open?” Masika asked.

  The gate was closed, and bars rose all the way to the ceiling. Beyond them, rows of spiky succulents stretched to a stone structure built into the back wall of the cave. Different entrances had labels such as Bottling and Tasting Room. She didn’t see anyone working in the field or the barn to one side of it.

  Erick shrugged. “You know as much as I do.”

  “That’s not what Number Five on your shirt says.”

  “I’m quite delighted that you’ve memorized all the reasons you should be dating me.”

  “You wear that shirt often. The captain’s dog has it memorized too.”

  “I’m not interested in furry females. I have standards. Very minimal standards, I’ll admit, but Alfie isn’t sleeping in my bed. At least not under the covers.”

  Masika wondered, if she ever did decide she wanted a relationship with someone again, if men would object to her mutated genes and abnormal physical strength and speed. Erick didn’t seem to mind those things, but as a Starseer, he was kind of weird and mutated too.

  Erick cleared his throat and steered his bike to the parking area. “We don’t try to read minds, but sometimes when you’re alone with someone, it’s hard not to catch some surface thoughts. Especially if that person doesn’t do anything to block her thoughts and they spread from her skull like radiation from a sun.”

  “Are you saying you heard me thinking about you being… unusual?”

  Was heard the right word? Masika had never met Starseers until joining the Snapper crew, and she had no idea how telepathy and their various mental powers worked.

  “That’s not the word you used, and yes.”

  “Is there a way I could learn to block myself? From radiating?” she asked curiously. “And from receiving telepathic intrusions from Starseers?”

  She’d had to do battles with a couple of Starseers and knew it would come in handy to keep enemies from reading her thoughts. During their supposed archaeological mission the month before, that damned Mark Brody had been putting lewd suggestions into her head the whole time he’d been on board. Blocking him would have been wonderful.

  “There are some techniques I could show you, sure.” Eric slid off his parked bike. “But Dr. Ogiwara may be even more help. She meditates and does all these Zen mind exercise things, and she’s really hard to read. Even if you try because you don’t quite believe her when she proclaims that the suspicious bug bite on your wrist is totally harmless and isn’t a sign that you’ve been infected by a Zoatorkia mycusa virus that will wilt your balls and ensure you never produce offspring.”

  Masika squinted at him as she dismounted from her bike.

  “That’s just a hypothetical situation,” Erick said.

  “Clearly.”

  She smiled faintly as he headed to the gate.

  “Hm, locked.” After checking the gate, he stuck his hand into a box on the wall with the front panel missing. He pulled out two burnt wires with the ends shredded. “The doorbell seems to be out of order.”

  “Maybe someone was disgruntled by the lack of free tastings.”

  He grinned at her. “Good one.”

  Masika hadn’t intended to make a joke, but she found herself somewhat pleased by the compliment.

  “Hello?” Erick called, pressing his face between two bars.

  Masika heard a few faint noises coming from the barn and nodded toward it. “I think someone’s in there.”

  “Donkeys,” Erick said, though neither of them could see inside the open barn door from there. He tapped the earstar draped over his right helix. “Jelena? Are you sure the distillery people know we’re coming?”

  “You have an appointment, yes,” Jelena said. “Actually, you’re three minutes late.”

  “I had to tell Masika about the bump on my wrist.”

  “I bet she would have been terribly disappointed to be the only person on the ship you hadn’t told.”

  Erick looked at Masika. She quirked an eyebrow at him.

  “She agrees with you, Jelena,” he said. “Comm the owner or whoever, will you? If we don’t hear from him eventually, we’ll be forced to invite ourselves in for the tour.”

  Masika stepped up to the gate to examine the locking mechanism. It looked like something she could snap with her enhanced strength, but breaking the client’s hardware was probably frowned upon in the freight industry.

  “I’ll do it,” Erick said after closing the comm. “Without violence.”

  “I wasn’t going to use violence. Just force.”

  He rested his hand on the front of the lock and closed his eyes. Scant seconds later, a soft thunk sounded, and one gate swung open.

  “That was a fast eventually,” Masika said.

  “I had to rescue the lock from your forcefulness.” Erick glanced at his thrust bike, but apparently decided it was better to head inside on foot.

  Masika followed him down the road bisecting the succulent field. Warm steam whispered out of pipes running along the ground between the plants.

  When they drew even with the barn, Masika peered through open double doors. The donkeys Erick had promised dozed in their stalls. Between the stalls was an extremely old-fashioned press with a big stone wheel for crushing the cores of the agave plants. Judging by the donkey droppings in a circle around it, the animals powered the press. Masika decided she was glad she had given up alcohol.

  “That looks like something out of the Old West on Old Earth,” Erick said. “The border worlds certainly have cutting edge—”

  He halted and spun around so abruptly Masika almost crashed into him.

  Beyond the open gate, a shuttle roared through the wide tunnel. Masika didn’t think much of it at first, assuming it belonged to the distillery owners, but it landed, and hatches on either side flew open. Four big men in gleaming silver combat armor leaped out and ran toward the gate.

  “Are they raiding the tequila factory?” Masika asked, bringing her rifle up.

  She didn’t point it at anyone, not yet, but her heart thundered as adrenaline flooded her veins. Her senses sprang to life, and she could suddenly smell the earthiness of the plantation, feel the warm humid air against her skin, and, even from across the field, see the eyes of the men behind the faceplates of their helmets. Those eyes burned with determination.

  “No.” Erick gripped her shoulder. “They’re after us. Run.”

  Running wasn’t in Masika’s nature, not these days, but it would be foolish to stand out on the open road when their opponents were armored and they weren’t. Had the troops been closer, she might have leaped into the middle of them, attacking and forcing them to fire toward each other if they wanted to hit her. But they were sill fifty meters away.

  Erick pulled her toward one of the doors of the distillery. Masika ran backward, keeping the men in her sights.

  Two more of them hopped out of the shuttle, which hovered in front of the gate. It looked like a ship capable of space travel, so these attackers could have come from anywhere. Their appearance could have something to do with the Snapper, or with Starseers, or with Prince Thorian. But it could also have something to do with her. With Jelena’s help, she had faked her own death before fleeing the core worl
ds and Stellacor, but it was possible the corporation had found out she was still alive. And they wanted her back.

  She saw one of the men’s mouths move behind his faceplate. Was he giving an order?

  “Down,” Masika barked and flung herself between two rows of blue agave, not that it would do much good. The succulents had sturdy, serrated leaves, but they wouldn’t stop blazer fire. Still, the plants would obscure the men’s view. “Erick?”

  He hadn’t jumped after her. They were still twenty meters from the door, but he stood still, facing the men.

  “Are you doing Starseer—”

  A barrage of blazer fire squealed through the cave. Crimson and orange bolts struck an invisible barrier in front of Erick.

  “—things?” Masika finished.

  “Whenever I can.” He waved at her. “Come closer. It’s easier for me to protect us when we’re together.”

  More blazer bolts flew from the men’s rifles and also from built-in weapons that had sprung from their arm pieces. For some reason, they focused on Erick.

  Though common sense suggested running for cover, Masika had seen Erick in battle and trusted the invisible barriers that Starseers could make. She jumped to her feet and ran toward him, wincing as bolts continued to streak across the field. One zipped straight toward her, only to bounce off an invisible barrier.

  One man knocked aside the rifle of the one who’d shot at her. They glanced at each other, seemingly sharing a quick argument as the others kept shooting at Erick. One of the bolts ricocheted off his shield and struck the ground. Several agave blew up, moist pieces of their leaves spattering the invisible barrier and clinging there. A three-foot-wide crater remained in the sandy earth, giving Masika fresh appreciation for Erick’s defenses.

  “I can’t fire through it, right?” she asked, hefting her rifle as she joined him on the road again.

  The armored men were advancing and continuing to fire, as if they believed they would find a way through the barrier. They kept aiming for Erick. Did they not see her as a threat? She was the one with an obvious weapon. Or…

  Her stomach plummeted into her boots.

  Did they want to make sure they captured her alive?

  “Right.” Erick’s nose and lips were wrinkled in concentration, and he didn’t say more, merely gripping her arm and jerking his head toward the distillery.

  He turned his back as they ran toward the closest door, apparently trusting in his barrier to keep them safe. Not feeling so trustworthy, Masika ran backward, determined to face her assailants. If Erick’s barrier faltered, she would react instantly and fire. Unfortunately, her blazer bolts would only bounce off their combat armor unless she had the opportunity to hold down the trigger for a sustained blast.

  She kept up with Erick, not slowed overly much by running backward, and they reached a pair of metal doors textured and painted to look like wood. Erick pushed at the latch, but they were locked.

  “I can’t pick locks and concentrate on keeping my barrier up at the same time,” he said, his voice strained.

  “No problem.”

  Masika turned sideways, drew up her leg, and slammed her heel into the door. She wasn’t a cyborg with synthetic bones, so the blow sent a stinging jolt through her, but she had the satisfaction of hearing a snap and seeing the door open.

  Normally, she would have taken a good look around before rushing inside, but their enemy continued to advance from behind as they fired. She jumped into a dim, cavernous room, scanning it with her rifle at the ready.

  Overhead lights flickered on as Erick shut the door behind them. They gleamed off huge steel vats that rose from the floor, almost to the ceiling. Stills.

  A wide aisle ran down the center of the huge room, with smaller aisles between the stills, and a catwalk near the ceiling allowing access to the tops of them. A squat floor-cleaning robot on treads meandered from one side aisle across the center and down another, but it was the only thing inside moving.

  “Where is the staff?” Masika grumbled.

  “It’s early. Maybe they haven’t come in yet.” Erick grimaced at the door.

  It was still standing, but the sounds of blazers firing came from right outside.

  “Or maybe they were told not to come in,” Masika said. “And maybe whoever told the captain about a shipment wasn’t even from the distillery.”

  “A mystery we can solve later.” His grimace deepened. “They’re right outside, shooting at my barrier. I’m protecting the door right now, just because it’s inside my circle of influence, but as soon as we step away from it, they’ll be able to blow their way in. Or they’ll come in through another door.”

  “How long can you maintain your barrier?” With her senses still heightened for battle, she had no trouble noticing the sweat gleaming on his forehead. They hadn’t run that far, so it wasn’t from exertion. Not physical exertion.

  “A while but not indefinitely, and I can’t attack and defend at the same time.”

  “I’ll attack as soon as I get a chance.”

  Erick glanced at her lone rifle. “Against six men in combat armor?”

  Masika pointed at the catwalk. “We can use the stills for cover and shoot from up there.”

  He looked dubiously at the metal walkways, or maybe he was skeptical at the thirty-foot jump to reach them. “Is there a ladder?”

  She jogged off to look, but stopped at the first still. Two rows of old-fashioned rivets ran up a seam from bottom to top.

  “Here,” she called back.

  With grip strength she’d never had in her former life, she grabbed the rivets and pulled herself up, using her feet to push off as she advanced.

  “That’s not a ladder,” Erick said from the door. “I’m not Thorian. I don’t know how to just float myself up there.” A rare hint of irritation crept into his tone, as if he hated making that admission.

  “You can lead those thugs off in the other direction then, and I’ll fire down from above.” Masika kept climbing—she was already two-thirds of the way up.

  “I can’t protect you if we split up.” The irritation switched to anguish.

  “I don’t need protecting.” Not anymore. Not from a man, not from anybody. Besides, they didn’t want to kill her. They probably wanted her for the experimental genetic material Stellacor had left in her blood.

  “Everyone needs protecting from men in combat armor. I’ll let you protect me back if you need to feel strong and independent.”

  Masika pulled herself onto the catwalk and found a position where she could see the door but had the top of a still for cover. Erick was still down there, his invisible barrier keeping the armored men from getting in.

  A crack-clank came from the room next door.

  “They’re coming in that way,” Erick groaned. “I won’t be able to—”

  “Let them come in,” Masika said, using what she hoped was a convincing command tone. She slapped the barrel of her rifle to her palm. “Go hide and make some Starseer trouble. I’ll deal with them while they’re distracted.”

  Erick shot her an aggrieved look, but he ran down the wide aisle and ducked into a passage between the stills in the back. He’d chosen the opposite side of the room from her. Good. If he made some noise back there, they would run by her and—

  The door opened with a slam that they must have heard all the way back on the Snapper.

  Masika braced herself and whispered, “This is it.”

  On the catwalk thirty feet above the ground, Masika waited for three armored men to run inside before firing at the fourth. The other two must have remained outside, or maybe they were trying to get in from the room next door. She shot at the silver helmet, holding down her trigger and hoping to have time to drill through his armor.

  But he whirled immediately, raising one of his arms—and the blazer built into it. Masika ducked behind the still as he fired up at the catwalk.

  Orange blazer bolts streaked past and slammed into the high stone ceiling. The at
tack missed Masika by three feet, but rocks rained down from above, bouncing off the catwalk all around her. One slammed off her shoulder.

  She leaped atop the still, staying low so nobody below would see her. The man fired again, aiming for the catwalk. Metal warped and exploded, shards flying everywhere.

  Masika crawled to the other side of the still, poked her head over, and took stock of where the others were. Two had continued on, no doubt looking for Erick. Two remained below, including the one determined to turn the catwalk into melted ore. She fired at him, aiming for the seam between arm and chest pieces.

  The second man spotted her and jerked his rifle up. She rolled away from the edge, cursing. With time, she might wear down the men’s armor, but it would take forever like this. And what were the odds that she wouldn’t be hurt in the meantime?

  A blazer bolt slammed into the still near the top. It rang like a gong, the entire structure trembling. A whoosh echoed from below, and Masika heard water—no, tequila—pouring out.

  Both men stopped firing, and one yelled, “Look out!”

  Masika rolled back to the edge, hoping to take advantage. The men were scurrying back from a waterfall of clear liquid pouring from a two-foot hole in the still.

  She fired down at them, again looking for a seam. They lifted their rifles in concert, but something huge and silver slammed into both of them, and they went down in a tangle of limbs. It was one of the other armored men. The fourth followed a second later, arms flailing as he flew through the air. He landed atop the others.

  If Masika hadn’t seen Erick hurl people around with his mind before, she would have been shocked, but she reacted immediately. She picked a target and fired as tequila continued to pour down on the men.

  Unfortunately, they pulled away from each other and sprang to their feet right away. She had the slight satisfaction of seeing smoke rising from the seam she’d targeted, and flames licking at their tequila-drenched armor, but knew their equipment could take a lot more damage.