by Rachel Bach
It was a good plan, clean and simple, but I’d miscalculated. I’d thought surprise and low gravity would give me the edge I needed to beat Rupert’s speed, but I wasn’t even close. I’d barely touched Sasha to his skin before he grabbed my wrist, pressing hard on the pressure point until my hand opened.
The sound of my gun clattering to the glass floor was painfully loud in the silence, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Rupert. He was right above me now, his hand still crushing my wrist, though I barely felt the pain. All I felt was a mix of fear and love so strong I didn’t know what to do with it. So I kissed him, rising up on my toes like I had before, only this time I was the savage one, grabbing Rupert and yanking him against me as hard as I could.
“You are such a jerk,” I said when I pulled away at last. “Why won’t you let me save you?”
“Because you wouldn’t be,” he said, dropping my wrist to cup my face with both hands. “Leaving you behind would be no salvation at all.” He leaned into me, smiling softly. “Haven’t you listened to anything I’ve told you?”
I stared up at him for a long moment, and then I lurched forward, burying my face against his chest while my arms wrapped around him so tight I’d have broken something if he’d been human. He held me more gently, but not much, his head pressed against my braided hair as he whispered that he loved me, that I was his brave girl, and didn’t I know he would never leave me?
I wanted to tell him I did know and that was why I’d pulled the gun, but I couldn’t get any words past the lump in my throat. So I just stood there, clinging to him like I was trying to make up for a lost lifetime until I heard the sound of boots landing at the foot of the vertical tunnel. But it wasn’t until a man cleared his throat that I finally found the courage to let go of Rupert and turn to face my fate.
CHAPTER 8
After the force they’d sent against us on Kessel, I was expecting ten symbionts at least, but the Eyes must have been on short notice, because the squad waiting for us when I looked up consisted of only four people who could possibly be symbionts. The rest were soldiers, ten Terrans in classic light-assault gear, the kind Paradoxian armor chewed up like chaff. That almost made me regret not taking a stand, because Rupert and I could have smoked these idiots. But then I noticed that the symbionts had their disrupters out, and, more importantly, all the soldiers were carrying heavy anti-armor shotguns, the big, expensive, multifractal spread kind that could rip my Lady to shreds in seconds, and I knew my decision not to fight had been the right one.
I glanced at Rupert out of the corner of my eye, but he was looking at the person standing at the front of the group. Though his straight posture and physical prowess clearly marked him as a symbiont, the man at the head of the force looked more like a gentle old grandpa than a killer. He wore the same type of plain black suit Rupert used to, but unlike Rupert, he managed to make it look old-fashioned and frumpy rather than dashing. His hair and full beard were snowy white and neatly trimmed, and the soft smile on his lips looked like a permanent fixture on his face. He reminded me of the kindly old mentors you saw in dramas, the ones who always gave the hero that key bit of life advice before dying, so you can imagine my shock when Rupert inclined his head and said, “Commander Martin.”
The grandfatherly man nodded back. “Charkov.”
My heart began to sink. The old man might look benign, but when he spoke, his voice was dry and crisp without a hint of smugness, despite having cornered us at last. I knew that tone well; it was the voice of an officer who saw you not as a soldier but as a tool. A piece to be moved efficiently to secure advantage, and no amount of heroics would ever make him see you differently. I’d had a few commanders like him in my time, and it had always been a degrading experience, which was why I wasn’t surprised at all that the next words out of Commander Martin’s mouth were, “Cuff them.”
The Eyes started toward us while the normal soldiers hung back to provide cover fire. I squeezed the handle of the Lady Gray’s case as they approached, shifting the fingerprint lock to its highest setting. I couldn’t stop them from taking my suit, but at least this way anyone who tried to break in would get cooked. It was cold comfort, especially since, at its highest setting, the security shock would slag my suit’s electronics as well, but I’d rather destroy my Lady than let these bastards have her.
The symbiont who stepped up to cuff me was a nondescript man who didn’t look nearly as impressive as the blond, sweet-talking Eye I’d faced off with on Kessel, especially since he seemed reluctant to touch me. Naturally, then, I couldn’t resist leaning into him as he took my case and locked my wrists behind my back with a pair of sticky cuffs from as far away as possible. He was shaking when our skin made contact, so I made sure to bump into him whenever possible. Couldn’t let them forget who the plague bearer was around here.
My sticky cuffs were pretty standard stuff, a tough band of semi-liquid plastic that only got tighter when you pulled. The sticky underside adhered to flesh on contact, meaning you’d have to rip off your own skin to get free without the chemical key. Nasty business, but nothing I hadn’t encountered, and used, before. The rig they’d brought for Rupert, on the other hand, was like nothing I’d ever seen.
The two Eyes who’d stepped up to restrain him were even more skittish than my guy, visibly shaking as they pulled Rupert’s arms behind him and locked them together in an enormous metal cuff that ran from his fists to his elbows. They cuffed his ankles as well, two metal enclosures connected by what looked like a titanium snake just long enough to allow short steps, but he’d take out his own feet if he even tried to kick. Finally, they fixed a shock collar to his neck, which I was pretty sure was actually illegal in Terran space. But the Eyes had never cared much for the law, and they seemed bent on making sure Rupert couldn’t so much as twitch without their say-so. Of course, considering his reputation and my own knowledge of what he was capable of, I’d have done no less.
Dr. Starchild had come out of his office while they were securing us, probably to make sure we didn’t hurt his station by making a scene. Nic was standing beside his father, looking like he wanted to help, but he didn’t make a move. Good thing, too, because Martin didn’t seem like a man who took interference well. He watched with cold detachment as the pair of Eyes led Rupert away, pulling him out a side door I hadn’t noticed before toward the embarkation shuttle they’d hooked to the abbot’s emergency exit. When they got there, Rupert shot me one last look before they shoved a black bag over his head and forced him onto the tiny shuttle for the trip back to the battleship waiting outside.
Even though I couldn’t see him anymore, I watched the shuttle until it flew out of view before turning my glare on Martin. “Was that really necessary? He wasn’t going to resist.”
“It was absolutely necessary,” Martin said in that dry voice. “Rupert Charkov has proven himself to be a violent and unpredictable element. I am only taking the necessary precautions to ensure the safety of those under my command.”
“If you think Rupert’s the violent and unpredictable element here, then you haven’t been paying attention,” I said proudly, striking a pose like my hands were behind my back because it was comfortable and not because they were bound. “So, it’s Martin, right? Are you here for our civil discussion?”
“I do not believe you are capable of such a thing, Miss Morris,” he said, holding out his hand.
Of all the symbionts, Martin had been the only one not brandishing a disrupter pistol. Now, one of the normal soldiers handed him a gun I hadn’t seen before. It was small and lightly constructed, like a civilian-grade concealable pistol. But before I could ask if he meant to tickle me to death with that peashooter, he raised the gun and fired.
A spike of pain exploded in my left arm, and I looked down to see a dart the size of my pinky sticking out of my bicep just before my vision started going fuzzy. “What?” I slurred, forcing my now heavy head up to glare at the commander. “Right to the stick? Not even going to try
the carrot?”
“You were the one who forced me to get personally involved, Miss Morris,” Commander Martin said, his voice far away. “Now you will learn that when I get involved, we do things one way: mine. And my way does not involve taking chances.”
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, letting my body slump, but it was all for show. My anger was flaring nice and sharp now, scraping the drug haze away. It was the impotent anger of a trapped animal, but after getting cornered, learning I was going to die for certain, and losing Rupert, I was feeling the need to act out.
“If that was your intent, then you haven’t done your research,” I slurred, pulling myself straight again in slow, exaggerated motions. “Otherwise you’d know shooting me only makes me mad.”
A flicker of confusion ghosted over Martin’s face at my words. I answered with a crocodile smile before pushing back with all my strength to slam my bound fists into my guard’s crotch.
I never could have caught someone like Rupert or Caldswell with a move like that, but this idiot must have been another back-line symbiont, because he doubled over with a yelp, letting me go. His pained cry was music to my ears. Not so armored there, asshole. I was about to rush Martin when I felt three more pricks hit my back.
This time, the dizziness hit me like a tidal wave. I was on the ground in seconds, knocked forward by my own fumbled charge. I was staring down at the stars through the clear floor, trying to decide whether it was worth the effort to raise my finger for a final rude gesture before I passed out when I heard a gruff voice I’d never expected to hear again.
“Never did know when to quit, did you?”
My breath caught, and I looked up, letting shock do what strength couldn’t as I raised my head to see Brian Caldswell staring down at me with Commander Martin’s tranq gun in his hands. He’d traded out his spacer captain’s flight vest and collared shirt for Terran military surplus fatigues, but otherwise, the captain looked exactly as he had the day he’d hired me. This time, though, his glare was far more personal.
“Sorry about this, Morris,” he said, not sounding sorry at all. “But it’s time to stop being stubborn and go to sleep.”
I wanted to tell him I hadn’t even gotten to stubborn yet, but my mouth didn’t work anymore. I couldn’t even feel the pain from the darts now, or Caldswell’s hands when he slid them under my shoulders to hoist me up. As he carried me unceremoniously toward the emergency exit, the last thing I saw through my darkening vision were the phantoms. There were a dozen of them now, floating along behind me like little glowing ducklings chasing their mother. My mind was drifting so badly that I actually took a breath to apologize to them since I was probably being dragged off to a lab to become the instrument of their extinction. Before I could form the words, though, I fell into unconsciousness, slumping over Caldswell’s shoulder as he hauled me onto the waiting shuttle.
I woke up strapped down to a medical bed with a woman cutting off my clothes.
She squeaked when I jerked, jumping back like she thought I was going to bite something off. Which, to be fair, I would have if I could. “Where am I?” I demanded, wincing when the words came out a slurred mess. My body felt like wet sand and my head was killing me. I lay back with a string of garbled curses. The next time I saw Caldswell, he was a dead man.
The woman, a timid-looking lady of indeterminate middle age, looked at something behind me like she was appealing for help, and then I heard a clicking sound, like a little dog running over a polished floor before a handset appeared above my head.
Don’t worry, it read. A decade of drug abuse has rendered Morris incapable of responding normally to sedatives, hence the restraints.
I pushed against the straps, rolling over just enough to see the xith’cal standing at my bedside. Considering Caldswell had been the one to put me down, waking up to Hyrek didn’t even surprise me, though I couldn’t say I was happy about it. “Hey,” I said, turning back to the nurse. “There’s a crazy lizard in here. Cut me loose and I’ll take him out before he can eat you.”
Hilarious as ever, I see, Hyrek wrote on his screen. He flashed me a wall of sharp teeth before turning his handset back to the woman. Please continue.
The woman looked more frightened of me than of the xith’cal, but she obeyed, reaching out to lift my shirt from my body to resume her cutting. Tied up, I couldn’t do a thing to stop her, so I turned back to Hyrek, keeping my words steady in the hopes he wouldn’t realize how groggy I still was. “What’s going on? Where’s Caldswell?”
You are being prepped for surgery, and the captain is with Charkov, Hyrek typed before putting down his handset to shine a light into my eyes.
The word “surgery” went through me like an icy splash, but it was hearing that Rupert was with Caldswell that really worried me. That was not going to be a happy reunion. “What kind of surgery?” I asked, working hard to keep the whimper out of my voice.
We haven’t decided yet, Hyrek typed once he was done shining his light into every part of my face. But Commander Martin ordered you be ready for anything the moment we left hyperspace, and I wanted to get that out of the way while you were still being a good patient, meaning asleep. Alas, it seems even four darts’ worth of military-grade tranquilizers can’t take down the raging Deviana Morris for more than two hours, so here we are.
I frowned, struggling to take all that in. The room we were in was a tiny closet with barely enough room for Hyrek and the nurse around my bed. Sleek medical equipment covered every inch of the walls except for the door, arranged with the sort of precise economy of space you’d expect from a Terran battleship. There was no window, so I couldn’t see if we were in hyperspace, but I had no reason to think Hyrek was lying. If I’d been in Martin’s position, I would have gotten me into hyperspace as quickly as possible, too.
I sighed, sinking into my restraints as the nurse finished cutting off my shirt and started working on my bra. I would have felt more self-conscious about being naked in front of strangers, but Hyrek was an asexual alien and the nurse was a nurse. Mostly I felt exposed and vulnerable. I don’t do being tied down in front of people who are trying to help me, but being tied down and naked in front of my enemies, even familiar ones like Hyrek, was putting me on edge something fierce. I tried to remind myself that I’d chosen this, chosen to surrender because it was my last chance at making sure my death meant something, but that knowledge didn’t stop the trapped animal anger from sending my whole body rigid, especially when Hyrek started prepping my arm to draw blood.
“So,” I said, trying to distract myself from the needle Hyrek was shoving into me. “I guess since you’re here, you know everything now?”
Hyrek filled three vials before he removed the needle and typed out an answer. I’ve known everything since before you were born, his handset read. I’ve worked with Brian Caldswell for over thirty years. If I was still ignorant of the captain’s true nature after so long, I would have had to be either dangerously in denial or dangerously stupid.
He stopped to label the vials and ready an IV before picking up his handset again. I am also the Eyes’ leading expert on symbionts. I accompany the captain to Dark Star station every year to assist in the implantation process.
The moment he said it, it made perfect sense. Who could have a better understanding of a xith’cal modification in a human body than a xith’cal doctor who specialized in humans? I also wasn’t surprised to hear that Hyrek had been in Caldswell’s pocket way before I started poking my nose in. He and Basil had always been the most loyal of the captain’s crew.
“What about the rest of the Fool?” I asked. “Where’s Nova and Basil?” I would have thought for sure the captain would have brought Nova to help with her father. That fact that he hadn’t struck me as ominous, a feeling that was only confirmed when Hyrek took his time answering.
We exited hyperspace at Dark Star station seven hours ago, his handset read when he turned it to me at last. The others are still there. Considering the
circumstances, the captain thought it would be safer if they remained under supervision.
“Under supervision,” I said, glaring. “You mean in prison, right?”
Hyrek shrugged, and I lay back with a sigh. Poor Nova. Still, compared to how the Eyes usually dealt with people who’d seen things they shouldn’t, prison wasn’t half bad. “Are they okay?”
The crew of the Glorious Fool is quite adroit at bearing up under difficulties, Hyrek replied, which actually made me feel better. Prison wasn’t the same as safe by any stretch, but I was very happy to hear they were alive. At the moment, I was ready to welcome any good news at all.
“Hyrek,” I said quietly as he slid the IV into my hand. The nurse had me down to my underwear at this point, leaving me shivering under the restraints. “Am I going to get a chance to talk to Caldswell before they do … whatever it is they’re going to do?”
Hyrek blew out a breath as he taped the tube to my skin. I don’t know, he typed at last. If you’re wondering about the deal you made with the captain, I don’t know anything. Things have changed a great deal while we were in hyperspace. But I will let him know you want to speak with him.
“Thanks,” I said. Now that the IV was in my hand, I could feel the pressure of the high-grade drugs on my mind. Since I hadn’t even fully shaken off the last round, these grabbed me quick. I lay still as the room began to spin, wondering if I’d ever be clearheaded again. Considering my future, some would consider that a blessing, but I’d always been the sort who preferred to see death coming, and I fought the drugs as long as I could, staring up at the phantoms hanging below the tiny room’s ceiling.