Girl Gone Nova

by Pauline Baird Jones

  “You shouldn’t be alone.”

  “I’m always alone.”

  Some emotion, and not a good one, flickered in her eyes before she masked it.

  “If it can be done, I’ll do it. If I can’t do it, it can’t be done.”

  It was arrogant, the words were arrogant, but her tone was resigned.

  “How long…” He trailed off, not knowing how to ask her when he should give up on her.

  “The impossible takes a little longer, but if the Gadi start shooting real missiles…” She finished with a shrug, too fatalistic for someone so young.

  “What if Vidor Shan tracks you?”

  “The phase cloak should block his tracking capability.”

  He made one last try. If he could get Shan off their back, he’d retreat without hesitation. “Donovan was able to affect Gadi systems using her nanites. If you got on board Shan’s ship, couldn’t you do that, too?”

  “The nanites were designed to aid in first contact, but Vidor Shan is from a different galaxy, with different tech. It will take time for my nanites to learn to talk to their tech. And if the Gadi attack before I take him down…” She gave him a sympathetic look. “I did consider all possible variables. This is the one with highest probability of success. And it’s not that high.”

  If having her board the Gadi flagship alone and trying to convince Giddioni she’d met him in another reality was their best hope for survival, they were screwed.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Doc didn’t let it go to her head when she was able to board Hel’s flagship with no discernible problems. Fate could pull the rug out later. And the law of unintended consequences was sure to have a go at her, too. She spiked into their systems with no muss and no fuss. Her peeps were as curious as she was. All that time in a test tube.

  They were sentient. She’d always known it, but had to ask when she was about to put her life on the line again. Lucky for her there were only three defined personalities, one per test tube. If all of them had been individually sentient, the vote might have taken too long. They’d worried they were bothering her until she pointed out she’d always had multiple personality disorder.

  I’m always alone, she’d told the General, but this time the peeps had her back in a way no human could or would. They’d taken to the phase cloak like ducks to water and adapted something similar for her personal use. It wasn’t a total phase, because she didn’t want to accidentally shoot out of the ship into hard space from say, firing a weapon. Actions always had reactions.

  Each light year closer to the Gadi flagship had eased the itching around her marriage tattoo. That had stopped when she’d come aboard. Hel was on this ship and he was close. He had enough surviving nanites to achieve a minimal connection with hers and together they made her a map. That he still had nanites gave her some hope he might remember her, though she’d been unable to communicate with him. Doc was eager to see him and terrified like she’d never been terrified before and that included her thirty year battle with them.

  Would she be stuck in limbo, forever bonded to a man who didn’t want her, who maybe had never wanted her?

  She finished gearing up, and the peeps made her a hole in the phase cloak. She stepped out into a little-used storage bay. No surprise it was pretty. Their garbage compactor was probably pretty. Also no surprise it was empty. That had been the plan.

  Doc carried a stun hand weapon, had a stun rifle strapped across her back. Was packing some doubles for Hel. Also had some projectile weapons, but it didn’t seem like a good idea to go in shooting-to-kill when her mission was semi-diplomatic. It was a pity that the future weapons had disappeared when the creeps messed with them.

  It was easy to avoid contact with the crew on the first few decks, but as she got closer to Hel’s location, crew contact increased exponentially, though the people she saw looked more like goons and mercenaries. And they weren’t that pretty.

  There was no guard outside Hel’s room, which felt wrong. The door was secured, not a problem for her peeps. Three life signs inside. Doc pulled an extra ray gun and prepared to drop cloak. Her peeps popped the lock. She stepped over the threshold. Saw two guards, weapons pinging on the open doorway and puzzled looks on their seriously goon-like faces. These two were not Gadi. They made the mistake of looking at each other when the door slid closed again. Doc dropped cloak. Then she shot them.

  Hel lay unmoving on the bed. Her wrist tingled as she moved closer, the mark turning intensely silver, a mini ma’rasile dance of joy? He had a setup attached to his arm that looked much like the one he’d used on her when she was sick on his ship in the other timeline. If they were sedating him, she hoped it didn’t take long to get him alert again. She reached out to shut it off.

  Arms closed around her.

  Her feet left the decking.

  Her back slammed against the bed.

  A long, strong body pinned her down.

  She could have put up more of a fight, but her body liked being flattened into the soft mattress by Hel, it liked the feel of him, the smell of him and wanted to taste him right now. His hands shackled her wrists, holding her arms above her head, igniting a now familiar system meltdown.

  “You are a female.”

  No sign of recognition in his face or eyes. It was kind of embarrassing she was still turned on. Though he wasn’t completely indifferent either. It took all she had to keep her face blank and calm. There were several smart ass retorts she could have made, but she didn’t. “Yes.”

  “You are an assassin.”

  “No.”

  “I do not believe you.”

  Doc looked for changes in his face. Other than the dislike and suspicion, which was new, he seemed the same. She felt an odd desolation quiver in the center of her chest. He didn’t recognize her. He didn’t like her. Hello, law of unintended consequences. Maybe she could hook up with a new law. This one wasn’t working that well for her.

  A frown pulled his brows together.

  “Why are you here?”

  Did he sound a bit less hostile? Or was she hoping he was less hostile?

  “The General sent me.”

  “You jest.”

  “I never jest about the General. He doesn’t like it.” She wanted to close her eyes and inhale him back into her soul. His face loomed over her, his mouth was so close his breath puffed against her skin. The edges quivered, as if her comment amused him. She tried to calculate the distance, tried to use math and science to get some emotional distance but proximity to him had put key processes offline.

  His leg hooked over hers, though she’d made no attempt to free herself. She shifted against him, though not in flight or fight. In the back of his eyes, tiny flames flickered and steadied. She didn’t read anything into it. He was a guy, and she was technically a girl. Her heart pounded against his, but he didn’t seem worried. Maybe he thought she was scared. This Hel didn’t know how dangerous she was. Or that fear wasn’t her primary emotion around him.

  He didn’t know her.

  But their bodies did, hers knew him right down to her DNA, and not just because she was his ma’rasile. If she didn’t get black ops girl back online, bride might derail the mission. No matter how lovely it felt to be with him in this bed, it wasn’t a good idea to consummate her marriage to a man who freaking didn’t remember her.

  The tough talk, the mental shout, helped. Fortunately her DNA had a little pride left.

  “Why would the General send you here, except to kill me?”

  “That would be a waste of resources.”

  He frowned. “I do not understand.”

  “Well, isn’t that your cousin’s plan? Take your ship, your position, your life?” She gave a small shrug. “I would be redundant.”

  His body jerked, his gaze narrowed to sharp points. “What do you mean?”

  “Your cousin, Glarmere, is running things, isn’t he?”

  “How could you know this?”

  Doc couldn’t help it. She
’d learned it from him. Her mouth curved into a smile meant to be provocative. “I know a lot of things I shouldn’t.”

  He almost smiled, but caught himself in time. Did that mean her Hel was in there somewhere? He could be pissy over being imprisoned. That would make her pissy.

  “Why are you here?”

  “To ask you a question.”

  “You sneak onto my ship, shoot my guards, risk your life to ask me a question?”

  It did sound a little crazy when he put it like that. His body shifted, removing all doubt he was unaffected by her proximity. Doc tried not to let it go to her head.

  “I might have two questions.” His brows pulled together in what could be the start of a frown, so she added, “What? It’s not like you have something else to do right now.”

  That stopped the frown in its tracks. His body shook with the chuckle he refused to allow past his lips.

  “What is it that you wish to ask me?”

  Doc stared at him for a fifteen count, because he was being a bit of a jerk. “Just wondered if you’d like help taking back your ship?”

  He tensed. “You have an assault force waiting on your ship?”

  “No.”

  He was off her in a move so sudden and graceful, she was impressed. And he took her two ray guns in the process. That was the second time he’d taken weapons from her. But since it was in two different time lines, it wasn’t a habit yet. And she’d let him take them, so technically he hadn’t taken them. Doc straightened slowly into a sitting position. Now was not the time to get shot with one of her own guns. She curled her feet under her.

  It looked relaxed. It wasn’t.

  His expression was assessing, a bit amused. It reminded her of her Hel in the infirmary when he had tried to figure her out.

  “Your General sent one woman to assist me.”

  She shrugged.

  He looked amused, but not convinced. “So General Halliwell returned with the Doolittle. I wondered if he would. And the Key?”

  She shook her head.

  “This I expected.”

  Doc felt a stab of jealousy. He’d wanted the Key for more than her unlocking capabilities. Had he ever wanted her?

  “Miri’s Key will never return to this galaxy.” Her voice had a bit of an edge to it. Not a surprise, since this was her first time in the jealous zone, well, in this timeline. She might have been jealous of Hel’s first wife. That part of her brain that was always curious, moved in to study this with scientific detachment. The rest of her was glad to hand it off to the study department. It wasn’t pertinent to the situation. And it was a bit embarrassing.

  His gaze hooded. “Then we have no reason not to take back what is ours.”

  Doc slid her legs free, letting them hang off the edge of the bed, the shift in her center of gravity, not visible to the human eye. “That’s not exactly true. I can think of two reasons for you to rethink your strategy.”

  One of the guards moaned. Hel didn’t take his gaze off her as he fired on one, then the other. Their bodies jerked as the blast hit them. Something about them bothered her, her frown deepening as she connected the dots.

  “You waste your sympathy on them.” His tone was politely scornful. “Their function was to persuade me to surrender my command codes when I awoke.”

  “Are they Dusan?” If one needed someone tortured, the Dusan were the go-to guys for that.

  “A few of them survived the battle.”

  If they were wired like the others had been, they could expect company soon.

  “Does the Council know who your cousin’s friends are?”

  He checked the ray gun settings and shot her a look. “You should have killed them.”

  “I wasn’t sure it was an operational necessity. And my presence is sort of diplomatic.”

  “Diplomatic?” His open skepticism didn’t bother her. His inability to truly see her did.

  She had to stop reacting to him, she realized. This mission, this moment needed the Chameleon; it needed the Major’s creature. Somehow she had to find her way back to the person she’d been before she met him. It was just another role, another persona to put on. She could do this.

  “The General wishes to form a new alliance for our mutual benefit and survival.”

  Hel stared at her for several long moments, and then he threw his head back and laughed.

  It was a first for Doc. He done many things in her presence, but laughing wasn’t one of them. She almost forgot to be Chameleon as warmth and charm softened the arrogant lines of his face. No surprise he had a lovely laugh, a beautiful sounding laugh. He did everything well—except getting a clue.

  But the Chameleon could get past that.

  When he sobered, he wasn’t Hel. He was his people’s Leader, a man of power bringing it to bear on her. He leaned in, his voice soft but lethal. “We do not need anything from your expedition but your departure from our galaxy.”

  Doc shrugged on black ops and bumped it up with Chameleon on top of her game, let it settle in place while she had a short stare down with this Leader.

  “I can see why you’d think that.”

  A flare of pupils was his response to her changed mien, but she knew he was on full alert. He had her ray guns, so he thought he had the upper hand.

  “Since your systems are unable to detect the sixteen alien vessels that have invaded this galaxy of course you’d think you’re still the dominant force in the galaxy. Only you aren’t. The alien vessels can kick you and your fleet’s collective asses with half their weapons tied behind their backs.”

  Several thoughts flashed through his eyes. Doc didn’t need to see them to know what they were. He feared they’d unlocked the tech on Kikk. He suspected a trick, a trap, a ruse to stave off their attack on the expedition ships. And he was worried she might be telling the truth.

  Doc offered him an olive branch, though a small one. “We managed to upgrade the scanning capability of the available technology.”

  Relief was fleeting, distrust not so much.

  “The alien ships are from a dwarf galaxy about 300 million light years away, specifically from a planet called Keltinar. Based on their current deployment, we believe they plan to wait until we’ve had our battle, hoping your numbers will be depleted—which they would be—making their ultimate victory that more certain.”

  “Your ships could withdraw.”

  No indication whether he believed her in the flat calm of his voice.

  “That was the plan. General Halliwell isn’t in love with the idea of saving your ass again.” It was provocative, but he deserved it. “But the leader of these ships infiltrated the Doolittle, disguised as a simple galactic trader, and tagged some of our people. General Halliwell’s concerned that if we try to leave, these ships will breach our shields and take our people. As you know, we don’t leave our people behind.” Did he know this? Or was that a last timeline thing?

  “People?”

  “Women. He managed to tag six women before we were able to limit his access.”

  His stare was long, his thought process unclear.

  “He tagged you.”

  “Yes.” He’d given her the perfect lead-in for his next surprise.

  “This is why your General sent you here? Did he hope I could be manipulated by a woman?”

  It was Doc’s turn to laugh. “You think I came here to ask you to rescue me? Not bloody likely.”

  Okay, it was good he didn’t know he’d rescued her once already.

  “And excuse me, but aren’t you the one currently locked in a room on your own flagship? And wasn’t I the one who breached your security, opened your locked door and took out your guards?”

  Not her brightest diplomatic moment, but still satisfying. He looked disconcerted, and then he surprised her by grinning.

  “But thanks to you, that is a temporary situation.” His face shifted to something that hovered between Leader and Kalian. “Why did General Halliwell send you?”

 
Doc tensed. She couldn’t help it. Moment of truth time did that to her. She’d never jumped into anything slow—in this timeline—so she yanked her sleeve back and held up her arm.

  “Look familiar?”

  He took the hit with a slight widening of his eyes and a little loss of color.

  “You’ve been unconscious for five of what we call space days.”

  He didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Impressive. He was like the male version of her. No wonder the General didn’t like her.

  “So have I. Our return to consciousness was triggered by our coming back into closer proximity to each other.”

  “How is this possible?” His voice was hoarse and not in a happy way.

  Had she expected him to grab her and plant one on her? Maybe. Hoped anyway. She was pathetic.

  “It’s a long story. And while we’re sitting here chatting, your cousin is preparing to attack the expedition. If he fires on the Doolittle, there will be no alliance. The General will assume I’ve failed in my mission. Which will start another war for your people, though this one will be shorter, since you’re seriously outgunned by Conan.”

  “Why should I trust you, trust this information?”

  Doc waved her arm at him. “Hello. If you die, so do I.”

  “You are a woman. That is worse than no help.”

  She might have to kick his ass. But would that kick hers? Just how close was their connection? Maybe a little demo was in order. On her internal HUD, her peeps flagged three bogeys closing on their position. She mentally initiated Plan A—she’d never needed Plan B but always had one—and worked out her timing.

  When the bogeys were five seconds from the door, she shifted her gaze over his shoulder.

  He half-turned, realized it was trick and stopped the move, his hand tightening on the trigger.

  One second of displaced focus, but that’s all she needed.

  Bright light tracked toward where she’d been.

  She hit him midsection.

  They went down and Doc made sure he was on the bottom this time. And that she got her weapons back.