by Cara Bristol
Illumina? Are you there? She’d been inside his head and then she wasn’t. “Illumina!” Dale shouted, anxiety flooding him in a wash. Don’t panic. Anything could have severed the transmission.
Focus. Focus. He concentrated, trying to bring her back. Nothing. Shit.
March stared at him like he’d lost his mind. “Are you all right?” he asked.
“Illumina was in my head,” he said. “We were talking.”
“She’s a cyborg?”
“No. A gifted computer sensate.” After he rescued her, they would investigate her abilities. Apparently acts of physical intimacy weren’t the only circumstances under which she could integrate into his microprocessor.
Dale opened a circuit to Brock Mann of Cy-Ops. Alonio is taking her to Katnia. Send a ship to intercept.
On it. I’ll also dispatch teams to trace known routes and will continue working a grid search in case he changes plans.
Good idea.
We’ll get her, don’t worry.
Brock attempted to reassure him, as he’d tried to soothe Illumina. The awful truth was failure was a possibility. Not for an instant did he doubt justice would prevail. That part they could control. The manhunt would continue until Alonio had met his end. But would Illumina meet hers before they could rescue her?
The idea was too horrible to contemplate. He blocked consideration of possible explanations for why the transmission had cut out.
Focus on the operation. Keep a clear head. For Illumina’s sake, her abduction needed to be treated like any other Cy-Ops mission. If emotions interfered, he wouldn’t make the best decisions.
Bored with Moonbeam, he had longed for more action, more excitement, to be involved with Cy-Ops again. You got what you wished for. How’s it working for you?
It sucked.
Dale looked at March. “How long will it take to install a cloaking device on Baby?”
March rubbed his chin. “A couple of hours.”
“That’s a hundred and nineteen minutes too long.” he replied, and signaled a flight line worker.
“Move Baby off the launch pad and prep the Lamis-Odg craft,” he told the man.
“Right away, boss.” He sprinted off.
“Walk with me,” Dale said. “I need to suit up.”
“You’re going to try the anti-piercing body armor?”
“This is as good a time as any to test the prototype.”
“I didn’t know it worked against bioelectromagnetic weapons,” March said.
“I don’t know that it does, but it’s the best thing we’ve got.” It was the only body shield they had—not that he intended to get close enough to test its effectiveness. Knives and sabers were short-range weapons. If he remained out of reach, he would be okay.
Blaster trumped saber. He’d take several of the former and some microexplosive devices. The MED-21 targeted soft tissue and wouldn’t compromise the ship’s hull and result in them all being blown to bits or sucked into space. In his plan, only one of them ended up dead.
“There’s a lot of area between here and Katnia,” March said. He’d been in on the comm link with the other cyborgs.
“I know.” He raked a hand over his head in frustration. “Intercepting the arrival of the shuttle once it reaches Katnia is no problem. Depending on his current location, that could take a day or two. Who knows what he’ll do to Illumina on the way? He cut off her hair! I have to get her away from him as soon as possible.”
“She didn’t give you a clue where they were?”
“No. She didn’t get the chance.” Dale expelled a breath, forcing back the worry that edged in. “But I’ll find them.”
They approached the office stairs. “I’ll get the weapons. Do me a favor and grab the body armor from the testing lab.”
“On my way.” March turned to leave.
“Mr. Homme!” Jesse the Arcanian hurried across the shop floor.
Not now. He bit off an expletive. He’d given the Arcanians a fair shake by hiring them, but dealing with them required an extraordinary amount of patience on the best of days. And today was not that day.
“I’ll handle it,” March said under his breath.
“Thanks.”
Bug-eyed bastard is lucky he’s still alive, March communicated via wireless. He got up on the dock and bumped into Alonio as he was leaving.
“I need to speak to you. Mr. Homme!” Jesse skidded to a stop. Dale didn’t stand on ceremony. Employees either called him by his first name or “boss,” which was more a term of affection than authority, although no one doubted he was in charge. “It’s a matter of vital importance.” Jesse enunciated clearly instead of mumbling the way he usually did.
Had Jesse’s Terran improved?
Didn’t matter. Didn’t care. “Later, Jesse.” He turned toward the stairs. There was no time to spare.
“We’ll talk tomorrow, Jesse,” March said.
“No. I must speak to Mr. Homme immediately, and my name isn’t Jesse—I am agent Wivo of AOP Internal Affairs,” he said, and produced a badge. Son of a bitch if he wasn’t legit. “We have had Alonio under investigation for crimes against the galaxy.”
Dale blinked and glanced at March. Until the abduction, he’d gotten the idea the AOP had all but awarded the Faria a free pass. The AOP meant well, but they focused too much on political correctness to be effective when affairs got nasty. In a galaxy where terrorists like Lamis-Odg attacked innocent bystanders in worship to their mythological Great One, predators like the Ka-Tȇ hunted sentients for sexual pleasure, and dangerous sociopaths like Alonio were allowed to ascend to power, nasty didn’t begin to cover it.
While a dialogue with Wivo might be informative, more exigent matters demanded attention. Talk would not rescue Illumina. “I’ll be happy to meet with you at a future time. As you’re probably aware, we have a crisis. I’m leaving to bring Illumina back.”
Would Alonio go straight to Katnia or detour with the assumption he’d had a tail? The longer the delay in departure, the farther away he would get, lessening the chance of interception. Every second counted. Not finding Illumina was unacceptable.
“That is the matter I wish to discuss.” All six of the Arcanian’s eyes focused on Dale’s face. “It would help, would it not, if you could pinpoint his location?” From his vest pocket, Wivo extracted a small device. “I planted a micro-transmitter device on his person. You can track him with this.”
Dale hoisted Wivo up by the shoulders and planted a kiss on his mouth before setting him on his feet.
Wivo wiped his face. “Mr. Homme, that was so inappropriate.”
* * * *
The calling of her name brought her to consciousness. The cold, hard metal floor pressed against her throbbing cheek. Sticky. Her face felt sticky. Blood? One arm curled awkwardly beneath her body. Hurting. Why? A whisper of caution had her stifling a groan of pain, and then she remembered.
Alonio’s rage. The beating. He’d shut off the cage, yanked her out, and kicked and shoved her to the bridge. Slammed his fist into her face. “Fix it!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” she’d lied. His punch had smashed into her temple, knocked her to the ground.
By the remaining sprouts of hair, he’d shaken her like a child’s toy. An undercut to the abdomen had punched the wind from her lungs. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak. He rammed her face against the nav dash. Blood spurted from her nose, adding to the red streaks across the computer screen from before.
She had to delay arrival on Katnia. If they got there, she would be gutted before Dale could rescue her. Although, given Alonio’s escalating madness, he might kill her himself long before then.
If you kill me, you die, too. Dale’s brotherhood of cyborgs would see to it. Telling Alonio that would do no good. His insanity had progressed too far for him to respond to reason or even self-interest. Nothing existed of the man she’d known since childhood, whom she’d married with expectations of a promising future
.
“Fix the ship!”
The next blow had hurtled her into blackness, and she knew no more until regaining consciousness on the floor of the bridge.
She lay in silence and pain, her eyes squeezed closed, but her ears and tactile sensations open. She could hear Alonio breathing, but no engine hum or vibration. The ship was still inoperative. He’d failed to get it started. Despite her peril, smug satisfaction flowed through her veins. He wasn’t the computer sensate he thought he was. But that had fueled his rage. He’d been unable to undo something she’d done. In that one thing, she’d bested him.
And paid the price for it.
Illumina! For goodness sake, answer me!
Her eyes flew open as Dale’s thoughts flowed into her brain.
“You’re awake, good!” White boots appeared in front of her face. Alonio hauled her to her feet. Bile belched into her throat on a booster of agony, and malevolent features faded to gray.
She staggered and fought not to retch. I’m here.
So am I. I’m in a cloaked spaceship right behind you.
Her eyes widened. It was fortunate her face was averted. She schooled her features to blankness.
Are you all right?
I’m okay. Not as good as before, she answered truthfully. But okay. Still alive. That’s what counted.
Is there a chance you could open the emergency launch bay? In the event the ship became inoperable, spacecraft were equipped with escape pods programmed to land on the nearest inhabitable planet.
I think so, but there’s probably a pod in the bay.
You’ll have to eject it.
Light flashed, and a blade stroked her throat. “If you do not repair the ship, I’ll kill you now.” Her skin stung as he nicked her. A rivulet of warmth trickled down her neck and between her breasts.
Illumina nodded. “I’ll try,” she lied.
“You’ll do more than try.”
He flexed his wings then folded them into place. His shove sent her sprawling into the pilot’s chair. She slid a hand onto the bloodied screen.
I have to focus on the computer, she signaled. She couldn’t communicate with his microprocessor and the ship at the same time. I love you. She choked.
Don’t say that like it’s good-bye. Pause. I love you, too.
If Dale succeeded in sneaking aboard—and it was a huge if—he would still have to contend with Alonio, and he had no idea the monster her ex had become. If he missed the narrow window of opportunity to board, and she restarted the ship, his little pod would not be able to keep up.
“What are you waiting for?” Alonio snapped.
“I’m trying to find the error.”
“Hurry up.”
Computer, open emergency bay shuttle launch door.
“Switch to voice command so I know what you’re doing.” Forearm shifted into dagger.
“Computer, activate voice mode,” she said aloud, while thinking, “Computer, countermand previous order and launch escape pod.
A faint rumble shuddered through the craft. Fear doubled her heart rate.
Alonio cocked his head. “What’s that noise? That’s not the engines. And why isn’t the computer speaking?” He shoved her hand off the screen and palmed it. “Computer! Voice mode! Report!”
“Escape pod launched,” the computer said.
He backhanded her. Her head slammed into the padded seat. “What did you do?”
“I’m sorry! I made a mistake! I couldn’t concentrate with you standing over me.”
“Computer, close the emergency bay,” he barked.
The bay couldn’t have been open more than twenty seconds, scarcely enough time to eject the pod. Dale couldn’t have gotten onboard.
Alonio pressed his blade to the underside of her jaw and drew blood. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but if you don’t have this ship started in ten seconds, I’ll slit your throat.”
She could have pointed out that without her, he would drift in space until he died of starvation because he no longer had an escape pod, but attempts to reason with him would lead to an abrupt end to her life. Out of options, she palmed the screen. Streams of code flashed through her mind. She inserted herself into the line of marching numbers and changed the single digit that hung everything up.
“Prepare for re-propulsion,” the computer said. “Re-igniting engines.” With a jerk, the craft surged forward.
Sheathing the dagger, Alonio dragged her out of the chair then hauled her down the corridor to the cargo hold. He sandwiched her between the door and his body and planted his palm against the entry module. She choked, fighting to remain positive.
Maybe Dale would get his pod back on his ship and would catch up with them again. Perhaps there would be another chance for a rescue. Hope wobbled under despair wrought by the facts. She would not get another opportunity to open the bay to let him in. He could follow the ship, but he wouldn’t be able to board. If only she’d had a few more seconds on the bridge…they’d come so close. Oh, Dale. Dale!
I’m right behind you, sweetheart.
Illumina gasped.
Alonio whipped around.
Her cyborg stood in the corridor.
Chapter Sixteen
Alonio dragged Illumina in front of him as a starburst of light shot out of his wrist. A dagger unsheathed, and he pressed the blade to her throat.
Way to go, Homme. He’d fucked up already by calling out to Illumina, allowing Alonio to react. Focus on the objective. Don’t let emotion get in the way. Personal feelings impede outcome.
“One step closer, and she dies,” Alonio said.
Marshaling his willpower, Dale suppressed his rage and forced himself to ignore her bloody and battered face, her chin-length, jagged hair, and focused on his target. “If she dies, you die,” he said with deadly calm.
In pieces. In Cy-Ops, he had taken out many an enemy, but he’d never tortured anyone to death. The Faria would be the first.
Dale held his blaster level, his microprocessor calculating the odds that he could pull the trigger faster than the Faria could sever an artery. He had an edge of .4 seconds, but if Alonio’s body fell, the knife could cut her anyway. Too risky.
Until something changed, they were in a standoff.
“Drop your weapon,” the Faria ordered. “Or I’ll kill her now.” No idle threat. His gaze radiated crazed determination; he was willing to commit suicide to murder Illumina.
Dale didn’t fear for his own life, but he would do anything to keep Illumina alive and well. Besides, he had other weapons. He slid his finger off the trigger and across the barrel. Maintaining eye contact, he bent and placed the weapon on the floor.
“Kick it away.”
He gave it a gentle shove with his foot.
Illumina’s gaze shifted downward. If he moves, I can try—
No, Illumina.
He blocked her thoughts to avoid distraction. He didn’t dare make the same mistake by allowing emotion to cloud his reason. Keep the focus. The mission would be victorious, his might would overpower the enemy, and she would survive.
“Release her, and I’ll allow you to live,” Dale said.
A couple of seconds of opportunity or a couple of centimeters of space between the knife and her throat was all he needed.
“Do you think I’m a fool?”
“It isn’t just me you have to worry about,” he said. “You’re a wanted man. Half the galaxy is searching for you. The AOP won’t let this pass this time.”
“Bureaucrats don’t worry me. You don’t worry me. Remove your utility belt.”
That could be a problem.
Alonio twisted her hair around his fist. “I don’t have to kill her all at once.” With his knife arm, he sawed through the hair next to the scalp. She screamed.
Dale unclipped the weapons belt to which he’d holstered two other blasters and three MED-21 charges.
“Toss it over it here.” Alonio motioned with the knife.
His
two-second, two-centimeter break.
Dale grabbed a blaster before the belt hit the floor. He went for the head shot, but the Faria’s knife arm transformed into a shield, scattering the photon stream in a spray of sparks. With a cry, Illumina wrenched away. Her ex latched onto her dress. She struck at his face with her fist, landing a blow near his eye.
A raucous Farian cry of rage rocked the craft.
Dale shot off another blast. The shield came up in time to block it. Sparks sizzled.
He fired again.
Alonio released her, and she dove for the blaster, but her ex kicked it out of her reach. Hiding behind the shield, he scooted backward then disappeared down a side passage.
Dale scooped up Illumina. “Are you all right?”
She nodded.
He picked up the blaster and pressed it into her hand. “Go to the bridge. Lock yourself in. You can do that, right?” With her computer ability, she could change the codes, block entry.
“Y-yes.”
He snapped on his belt and grabbed another weapon. “I’m going after him. Contact March. Tell him where we are. He’ll contact Cyber Operations.” He brushed a gentle kiss to her swollen mouth. “Don’t open the bridge until I come back—or Cy-Ops gets here. Understand?” He didn’t think Alonio could best him, but the transformation from dagger to shield had been an unpleasant, unexpected development. Dale didn’t like surprises. His weapons outpowered any knife or saber, but if the Faria created a blaster-type weapon...
“Be careful,” she said.
No promise on that one. He would do whatever it required to solve the problem. The Faria would be brought to justice—cyborg justice. Swift and permanent. “Go now,” he said.
Illumina hesitated as if to argue, but then she nodded and headed down the passage. Dale sprinted after his quarry.
What would the Faria do now? Would he hole up? Mount an attack? Or attempt to flee the ship? Alonio could be lying in wait, plotting an ambush. Make no assumptions. Check and verify.
A passage that may have been a maintenance channel because it was almost too narrow for Dale to squeeze his bulky cyborg body through broke off from the wider aisle. He flattened himself against the wall and peeked into the passage. A fireball zoomed by his ear. He jerked to avoid having his scalp singed. The wall lit up red-hot upon impact.