by Pippa Jay
With somewhat more humility than her haughty entrance the previous day, she walked around the table to face Zander. He rose to greet her, an easy smile on that full mouth of his that curiously made her feel more embarrassed.
“Good morning, Zander.”
“Good morning, Mirsee.”
She started slightly then mentally slapped herself. Today must be the first proper day of subterfuge. They sat, and Pevanne brought them capprey, cereal, an array of fruits that Tyree didn’t recognize, and spiced wafers.
“How are you this morning?”
The genuine concern filtering through his voice snatched her from her bemused survey of the table’s contents to meet his gaze. “I’m fine, thank you.”
“Good.” He smiled approval. “Are you fit to go through today’s schedule?”
“Yes. Zander, about yesterday...”
“Yes?”
She put on her best formal voice, the one she only used when sheer bloody rudeness wouldn’t work. “Rest assured that the events of yesterday will not be repeated. If I’d survived such sloppiness out in the field I’d have been—”
“Disciplined?” Zander ventured, his expression amused.
“Dissipated.”
He frowned. “And that is?”
“You know about the Inc-Su ability to Mist—to alter our molecular density to pass through solid objects?”
“Of course. Mirsee couldn’t, but I know of it.”
“Dissipation is the ultimate punishment for an Inc-Su. It forces the Misting to a level we can’t control, so we lose molecular cohesion and simply evaporate.”
Any humor in his expression died. “That seems somewhat harsh.”
“But effective.” Her breath caught but the words spilled out regardless. “I’ve seen it done.” She shuddered. Misting out the first time had felt like every fiber of her being had come apart. That she was losing herself. She couldn’t imagine the terror of it being forced upon her, being torn asunder, knowing that it was forever this time. “Anyway, that’s not important. Why don’t you tell me what you’ve learned of the would-be assassin and take me through a schematic of the Seclusion and its security measures. Then we can move onto the details of our mission.”
Zander smiled. “Perhaps a cup of capprey first...?”
Her mouth watered. Definitely.
***
Tyree sighed and raked her hands through her hair.
“Need a break?” Zander murmured.
“No, I’m fine.” She stared at him through the flicker of holographic data hanging between them. His long fingers danced across the controls within the table’s surface as he scanned the data, and she watched, fascinated. They moved so gracefully, as if conducting music. He hesitated and glanced at her, the dark eyebrows quirking upward, and she gave him an embarrassed smile. “Sorry.”
“Not what you’re used to?”
“I’m not used to being around humans so much.” Tyree let out the words then flushed as she realized how that might be construed.
Zander flicked any offense away with an elegant twitch of his fingers. “But you must spend some time studying your target beforehand, and then seeking them out.”
“Enough to complete my mission, yes. But that doesn’t take long.”
“This will be different for you. I understand that. If you would prefer to return to your rooms to study—”
“No, it’s fine,” she blurted. “I’d rather keep you company.”
The smile he gifted her with felt almost like the touch of auric energy brushing over her skin, and she couldn’t help but return it. “I do have some questions though.”
“Ask.” He steepled his fingers and leaned back in his chair. The data sheet between them vanished. Sitting diagonally from him, she could barely see the scars on his face where strands of brown hair covered the worst of it. Had he always worn it that long, or grown it since to shield his face?
“Why did it take the Terran Assembly six months to come up with this solution? You and Mirsee missed a pivotal pre-treaty meeting, supposedly because you were both still recovering.”
“Yes, you and I were judged medically unfit for space travel,” Zander said pointedly, and Tyree conceded his reminder with a wave of her hand. “The Tier-vane gave us leeway on the meeting provided we make the re-arranged date, which is in ten days.”
She shivered.
“Nervous?”
“Yes.” She touched her collar bone, rubbing the raised knot. “Why did it take so long though? In the past six months I’ve been out on two missions, neither of which took more than a few standard days.”
“Initially, the Terran Assembly had no idea what to do. They waited to see if I would recover, and then approached the Inc-Su for help, but they refused. It took considerable time to bargain with them, at which point they reluctantly revealed your existence. It...came as a shock.”
“You didn’t know Mirsee had any kin?”
“I’m not even certain she did. After all, wasn’t it a shock for you too?”
“Yes.”
In more ways than you could imagine.
Kin groups could be up to a dozen strong but were usually housed and trained together. Learning she not only had a sibling outside Refuge but was also the child of an Inc-Su bonding had blown all her preconceived perceptions out into space.
“Would you answer something for me now?” Zander said.
“Yes?”
“The way you kill.” He seemed uneasy. “Why?”
“Does it disturb you?” Tyree knew many humans had campaigned to have Inc-Su expelled from the Territories. But too many people in power used their services to permit it, even while they vocally condemned the assassinations in public. “Disgust you?”
“No.” If that was a lie, Zander hid it well. “But there are other ways to kill. Why not use a weapon?”
“Weapons, poisons—they can’t be made to Mist out, and it’s easier to get into places if you don’t have to worry about concealing one.” She grinned.
“But you must be trained to kill without...”
“Without sex?” Tyree liked the faint blush of color her blunt use of the word brought to his face. She was beginning to enjoy disturbing that calm composure of his. It might be fun to see how many ripples she could create in that placid surface he presented to the world. “Oh, yes. But it can mean a struggle. Someone having sex doesn’t resist much.” She ran a finger along the edge of her mouth. One of her victims had told her how sexy he’d found that, just moments before screaming in his death throes. “Well, not unless that’s the kind of thing they like.”
A deepening shade of red edged across his face. “You sound as if you enjoy it.”
“You think I shouldn’t? Are you judging me, Zander D’joren?” She leaned toward him, all traces of humor rapidly dissipating. “I am what I am, bred and trained. I don’t take pleasure from death but the euphoria from sex and drawing in auric energy are the perks of my profession. I follow my orders, and I do what’s necessary. I make it quick and I make it pleasurable. They die in ecstasy.”
“Have you ever wanted to refuse?”
“I...” Memories came of a young man, drugged and helpless. “Not since my first.”
“The first was hard for you.”
“It always is. But it’s that or die.”
A deep frown creased his forehead. “They’d kill you?”
“Yes. This is why Mirsee puzzles me. I guess they must have known she was flawed from the start and taken her out of our kin group. But why not just terminate her? How many more damaged Inc-Su are working outside Refuge?”
“I could find out if you like.”
“You can do that?”
“Of course. All Inc-Su outside of Refuge work directly for the Terran Assembly. That’s how I met Mirsee.”
“Then it’s a common thing?” Uncertainty shivered through her. “It could have been me.”
“Would that be so terrible?”
Tyree couldn�
�t speak for a moment. “Terrible? You’ve no idea. I couldn’t live without Refuge.”
“The flawed Inc-Su manage. You aren’t reliant on the place. You’d adapt.”
“I don’t want to!” She reined in her anger. Was he deliberately pushing her? Testing her? “Pure Inc-Su live in Refuge. I don’t belong anywhere else. Humans wouldn’t tolerate me.”
“I’m human.”
“You’re different. You’re a diplomat and you had—” She took a deep breath. “Most humans who see me coming jump a transport to the farthest outposts in the galaxy. Although if they do see me, they aren’t the target.”
“Inc-Su have a reputation.”
“And one well-deserved.” She sighed. Why couldn’t he understand? “We’re just not like you, Zander. And I wouldn’t want to be.”
“Not even if there was a chance you could be happy?”
“As what? Permanently pretending to be your co-delegate?” Irritation spiked into her chest. “I want to go back to Refuge. I want my life back. I don’t want anything a human has to offer.” She leaped from her seat and stormed away, trying not to remember G’vorek’s last words to her.
Once upon a time we were human too. You might do well to remember that...
***
She avoided Zander for the rest of the day, pleading tiredness when Pevanne arrived at her door with a dinner invitation. The following morning she refused to leave her bed despite Visaya’s best efforts. Eventually, even the petite attendant gave up on Tyree, who then spent the morning buried in her blankets until hunger finally drove her out. The Monitor system provided lunch and some essential files on Centralis that Zander had sent to her, with a written note that he hoped she felt well enough to read them. She did so, lingering over his message. She was being childish shutting herself away, but she needed the space. And he’d said himself that she was free to study in private if she preferred. Well, today she did prefer it.
By mid-afternoon she felt restless. The thought of declining another dinner invitation nagged at her. She needed a diversion, and not one that involved D’joren. The media suite on the Seclusion not only held a fully comprehensive entertainment system but a gym and combat-training area. That last addition had startled her on first inspection, since the security squad were housed in the outer sections and only permitted into the inner quarters in case of an emergency. Otherwise the personal quarters for herself, D’joren, Callista, Visaya, and Pevanne were completely sealed off and inaccessible from the rest of the base, and supposedly any would-be assassin in the galaxy. She couldn’t imagine any of her cohabitants using such a facility, but it seemed exceptionally thoughtful for it to have been provided solely for her use.
After storming out of her last conference with Zander, she felt the need to burn off some of her frustration—and it was mostly frustration—at being confined, at the task ahead, at Zander’s vaguely condescending attitude toward her. Although, perhaps she was imagining that last. Perhaps he was simply trying to guide her into her role by questioning everything she perceived as reality. After all, they were from different worlds and cultures, even if he had been married to a flawed and rejected version of her. Added to that, his memories of Mirsee undoubtedly colored and challenged his expectations of what Tyree would—or should—be like.
She stalked into the media suite and shrugged off the long, velvety robe snagged from her...from Mirsee’s...wardrobe, and let it fall. Pevanne’s shocked countenance when she’d stepped out into his path in nothing but her Su-shift earlier had been amusing, but she was supposed to be acting like Mirsee and not herself. At a guess she wouldn’t be able to waltz around Centralis like that.
She smoothed the figure-hugging mesh over her body. Woven from mixed hair taken from generations of Su, it clung to her shape without constricting her, the only fabric that could Mist in and out as she did. Her stealth shoes were made from the same material, but molded into something more solid. The shift left her arms bare from the shoulder, and her legs from mid-thigh unlike the horrendous things Visaya made her wear. She wore nothing underneath.
The long, narrow room had pale gray walls and a diffuse lighting system that made the whole ceiling glow. She slipped off her shoes and dug her toes into the matting on the floor. It was body temperature by the feel of it, firm but with a little give. She bounced lightly on her feet, testing the results. Hmmm, cushioning should she take a hard tumble, without being too soft to get some traction from it. Good.
“Combat training, single opponent,” she demanded.
A hole opened in the ceiling, and an elasticated cradle lowered a gray Manikin to the ground, the humanoid shape coiled into a fetal position. It had no facial features, the synthetic flesh of its body molded into a rough duplicate of human musculature.
“Manikin activated,” the neutral tones of the Monitor system announced, and the mechanoid unfolded itself and rose to its feet in a single fluid movement. It stood, arms relaxed at its sides with its fingers open. Tyree braced herself with fists raised, and the Manikin mirrored her.
“Begin.”
The faceless automaton came at her. She countered with a fist to its head and a knee to the stomach, the false flesh covering its metal frame absorbing the impacts. It rocked back under the blows but came again, aiming a flurry of punches to her face that she alternately dodged and blocked in turn. She whirled and planted her right foot in its chest, shoving it backward. A human might have fallen but the Manikin didn’t, correcting its balance in a wholly unnatural way as it charged back. Tyree dropped into a crouch and increased her molecular density. The Manikin fell across her back and she shoved upward, flipping it over. It rolled across the training floor before righting itself.
Movement flickered at the corner of her eye, but she kept her gaze fixed on the Manikin as it came again. It tried to grasp her arms and she ducked, grabbing its arm as she twisted. Jerking back with her full weight augmented by her increased density, she spun the Manikin off and away into the wall. It rebounded and shook itself, as if stunned.
“Hold,” Tyree barked, and turned to confront Zander. He leaned casually against the frame of the open doorway, his arms folded and an easy smile on his face. The confines of the doorway made him seem even taller and broader than he already was. Some people might have found that intimidating. For Tyree it merely sparked her irritation further.
“Entertaining enough for you?” she demanded. The exercise had barely gotten her pulse rate up but the sight of him watching set her heart hammering, and that just made her angrier.
Again, he quirked those dark eyebrows at her, as if amused by a child’s tantrum. “I’ve never seen a Su fight. I admit I was curious.”
“Didn’t you think I could?”
Don’t expect much of me at all, do you, Zander?
“From what you said earlier, I didn’t think you would need to.”
“It isn’t all just sex and psi-talent.” She stalked up to him. Inc-Su tended to be tall, and she was average for her kind at just shy of two meters. Even so, Zander still stood a hand’s breadth taller, and she hated having to stare up to look him in the eye.
“I never assumed it was.” He frowned. “We seem to be at odds with each other, which wasn’t my intention. What precisely have I done to upset you so much?”
For an instant she couldn’t speak. She knew she wasn’t the most even-tempered of people, even for a Su, and yet he seemed to have provoked the very worst in her.
“It’s not all you,” she acknowledged eventually, letting the last threads of her temper wind out with that admission. “All this—” she gestured to the world in general “—is—”
“Unsettling?”
“That’s one word for it.”
Zander stared at her in silence for so long she began to wonder what he was seeing. She started when he spoke again. “I think, despite the difficulties, despite your doubts, that you are more than capable of this mission. I have faith in you and your abilities, not just as a Su, but as my co-de
legate. You are the only person in the galaxy that has the right DNA for the task, and you more than have the talents for it.” The last he said with a humorous twist to his mouth that drew a grudging smile to hers. The quiet assurance in his voice lifted the weight on her shoulders.
“Damn DNA,” she muttered. “But thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“My pleasure.” He smiled. “Does that mean I’m forgiven?”
“Oh, I’m not sure about that. While you’re here, I think we should do some training together. You’re not very safety conscious.”
“Am I not?”
“You sit in the conference hall with your back to an open door. Are you asking to get stabbed?”
“I like the view from where I sit. Especially now.”
Heat scoured her face, and she drew a sharp breath. “Are you trying to flirt with me?”
“I’m trying to distract you.”
“It’s not working.” She tried to keep a grin from spreading across her face, but it was hard. “Afraid I’ll beat you?”
“I have no doubt of that.”
“So you’re not going to even try?”
Zander regarded her for a long, long moment. “I would be interested to see how Su training compares to a Warden’s,” he murmured at last, as if considering the idea for the sake of mere curiosity. He pushed himself away from the doorframe and walked slowly toward her, sudden intent purpose in his movements. A thrill of excitement shivered down her spine as she backed away a few steps with Zander following. He shrugged off his formal outer robes, and for the first time she could appreciate the broad expanse of his chest, the close-fitting fabric stretched over well-defined muscles. It appeared he hadn’t allowed his physique to slacken, despite leaving the Galactic Commission.
“Are you ready?” she asked.
Zander spread his hands in an open gesture to say that he was.
So why is he just standing there like a defunct Manikin instead of poised to fight?
Tyree took her combat position and Zander matched her, just as the Manikin had done. She’d never fought a human in practice before. This should be interesting.