Zandro

by E. D. Walker

  Making her decision, Aliette tossed an old blanket over him then scooped up the kittens and carried them to her room with the formula.

  Zandro never let himself take breaks when he had new babies to tend to. She was still wired from banging around in the engine room. This was the least she could do.

  The kittens ate then snuggled in for another snooze. Although the blue made a small attempt to walk across the bed first, its little legs lifting up and down with exaggerated care as it tried to drag its full body along. Aliette chuckled and scooped little blue close, dropping a kiss on its head. Zandro had always jokingly insisted that kisses were as necessary for kitten survival as the formula droppers.

  The kitten fell asleep on her chest, a small vibration starting that told her it was beginning to practice its purr too. The other kitten she scooped out and placed against her thigh on top of its warming pad. Zandro would never forgive her if she didn’t keep the kittens warm.

  As the two spots of warmth and pleased vibration settled against her, Aliette shook her head and laughed at herself. “Oh no. You’ve done it now.”

  Kittens. The most irresistible force in the universe. Now she really was doomed.

  ***

  Zandro woke up with a jerk and scrubbed hard at his face. He actually felt well rested for once, which meant he’d undoubtedly slept too long. Guilt and worry fired through his veins with stomach churning speed. He glanced around for the kitten box and couldn’t find it anywhere. That rolled his panic over to a high pitch of intensity, and he hurried through the small ship corridor toward the bunk rooms. Had Aliette been bothered by their chirping? Had she put them in one of the bunks? Or the engine room? The bathroom? Were they warm enough? Were they starving—

  His frenzied thoughts ground to a stop as he glanced into her room and saw both kittens awake and happily romping on her oversized mattress. They were taking their first wobbling steps while Aliette watched them, laughing in delight and murmuring encouragement.

  “Big boy blue, look at you walking already. Zandro will be so impressed.” She stroked one finger over the kitten’s head, grinning big.

  Zandro’s heart squeezed watching her, and an ache seized him. This is the way it should have been. This is what he wanted. Too bad he’d screwed everything up five years ago.

  She saw him standing in the doorway, and her grin widened, her eyes brightening with pleasure. “Hey, Zandro.”

  Or maybe not. Maybe there was a way to have this? To have Aliette and the kittens in his life? If he played it careful. If he didn’t mess everything up.

  “Thank you for letting me sleep.” He leaned against the door frame and grinned at her. “The girls look like they’re doing great.”

  “Girls?” She blinked and glanced down at the kittens. “But that one’s blue. I thought blue bajo cats are always male.”

  “Most of the time, but I checked their sexes last night. Two healthy baby girls. Well, mostly healthy. But definitely girls.”

  Aliette shook her head and leaned close, kissing each kitten on the head then whispering, “Hello, ladies. Sorry for the mix up.”

  The moment felt like a held breath for Zandro. Like if he moved, if he spoke, then Aliette would realize what she was doing, would realize how she was leaving a door open for him. So he didn't move. He just watched, his heart warm and content.

  Aliette took a long, slow breath and finally looked at him. “Zandro. I…I think we should talk.”

  Everything in him tensed at once, his nerves leaping with excitement even as his stomach clenched with dread. But, when he opened his mouth to say something, the ship shuddered suddenly around them. “What was that?”

  Aliette leapt to her feet, a kitten in each hand. She hurried up then shoved past him, placing each kitten carefully in his arms. “We're being boarded. Hide the kittens.”

  ***

  Aliette broke into a jog toward the cockpit. She should've listened to her instincts, should've been paying more attention. Ships didn't just shut down with no sign of what was wrong. Especially not with bajo cats on board. That creepy female deputy from the moon flashed through her mind.

  A law enforcement lock on her engines could've stopped them all, could've made the engines go cold without harming the ship or triggering any of the diagnostics. Sometimes law enforcement wanted to stop a ship but didn't want anyone to know they were the ones who'd done it.

  The question now wasn't why the deputy had done it. That was obvious: she wanted the kittens.

  The question now was who was coming for them. If it was that strung out, skinny old hag then Aliette liked their chances. If it was a pack of drug dealers bent on claiming some valuable bajo kittens…she felt less confident.

  She dropped into her seat in the cockpit and pulled up her scanners. A large pleasure yacht had pulled alongside them and locked tractor beams on, freezing them in place. The tractor beams were her first red alert. Pleasure yachts shouldn't have something like that. They might have enough to tow a star-sled or something else person-sized. They shouldn't have been able to lock onto her ship. If she had to lay money down she'd bet that yacht was anything but a pleasure vessel. That was just a fancy shell for the mass of high-powered toys the drug dealers had to hide.

  She checked the ship's call sign then keyed up her coms, “White Lotus, this is Captain Aliette DuBois, owner and operator of The Dulcinea. Can you tell me why you've locked tractor beams onto my ship? I don't remember asking for a tow.”

  Silence. Another bad sign.

  Aliette could waste more time trying to provoke them into lying to her or she could get herself ready. Her throat thickened as she stared around at her ship. She'd sweated for this, scrimped and saved, left Zandro behind so she could have this. Now she might lose the whole thing. She pressed her palm flat against the bulkhead. “We've had a good run, Dulcie love.”

  She shook herself and pushed to her feet. Enough sentimentality. She had some kittens to save.

  ***

  Zandro scurried around Aliette's ship for a frantic few minutes trying to remember where her smuggling compartments were. At last he remembered the doorframe of the spare bunk. She had a false side there. That might be big enough for one kitten. But would they be able to breathe?

  “Crap.” He slid the panel back. One kitten was awake and mewing for its next meal.

  There was no point putting the kittens somewhere he wasn't sure they'd be able to breathe. He couldn't risk everything, including Aliette’s ship, just to end up with dead kittens.

  He gritted his teeth and tried to think of something, anything to do.

  Aliette buzzed past him, but he bit his tongue on a question when he saw the look in her eyes. He bit his lip on an apology too. He'd brought this to her, risked her ship and probably her life.

  He gritted his teeth and refocused. Regret got him nothing now. There was no going back, no fixing the trouble they found themselves in. Right now he had to think. And he had to be smart.

  ***

  Aliette didn’t have time to do much but sprint into the hold to greet their unwelcome guests. All she could hope to do was obfuscate and stall. Give Zandro enough time to hide.

  With the roar of grinding metal, their unwelcome visitors breached her ship's hull. They must have had a flex tube attached because the hole in her ship didn't cause a pressure breach. Good. Maybe there would be something left of her and her ship after this was all through.

  Foolish to hope for that, but Aliette was an optimist.

  A strike team of three toughs hurried through the breach. They wore body armor and blasters. A well-funded outfit then.

  Although they didn't look particularly competent to Aliette. For one thing they didn't leave anyone behind on their own ship to keep the exit clear. And they held their blasters sloppily. Loose grips. No trigger discipline.

  She stopped herself before she could let her distaste show. Amateurs could kill her just as easily as seasoned pros if they got lucky. Hell, with three to one odds th
ey didn't even need much luck.

  Aliette assumed an air of righteous fury. “Who the hell are you and what are you doing on my ship?”

  “You've got something that doesn't belong to you,” the leader said. She was an older woman, heavyset with a weathered face and dark hair slicked back close to her skull. She moved like a thug not a soldier. This one was used to handing out beatings, not running black ops.

  Aliette tossed her arms out wide. “What? My hold is empty. I'm on my way back from doing a passenger run to Anteros XII.”

  The leader scoffed and crossed the deck in three long strides. She pulled her beefy arm back and cuffed Aliette hard across the cheek. “Where are they?”

  The crack against Aliette’s face left her dazed, and she tasted blood. “I don't know what you mean.”

  The woman snorted and hit her again.

  OK. Enough. Aliette blocked her attacker’s arm and fired back with a punch of her own to the woman's neck.

  Her adversary staggered, blaster clattering to the deck, and held her hands to her throat as she rasped.

  Yeah. That one wasn't used to folks who could hit back.

  “Grab her,” the woman rasped out.

  Aliette moved to run, but the two henchmen caught her by the arms and hauled her back. “You have no right to be on my ship. What are you even doing here?” She tried to sound truly baffled, tried to keep any hint of fear out of her voice. If only she could play the part of bemused captain well enough maybe they'd leave after a cursory search. “I don't have any cargo right now. Illicit or otherwise.”

  The lead tough had caught her breath and shaken herself back together. She approached Aliette with narrowed eyes and shoved her to her knees. “We'll find them, bitch, and then you'll be sorry you lied to me. Hold her.”

  Aliette tensed as one of the men pinned her arms behind her back and kept her kneeling on the grated floor of the hold. Her knees were going to be black and blue gridlines by morning.

  If I live to see morning. She grimaced, her skin crawling with fear and impatience. Just stay hidden, Zandro. Just stay hidden.

  Even as she had the thought, Zandro popped up out of the smuggling drop in the floor, a kitten in each hand.

  “What the—” The henchman barely got the words out before Zandro shoved the kittens in his face. They lashed out as all scared cats are wont to do, scratching and biting. One got a good hold on the bad guy's nose, and the man fell away, yowling and bleeding. He hit the floor hard next moment, though, his eyes rolling back as his body convulsed.

  Overdose. Aliette watched that drama for only a moment, though. Then she jerked her head back and connected hard with the crotch of the man restraining her. He folded up, holding his junk and keening. She scrambled to her feet and kicked him in the face. He rolled away, dazed and groaning as she found her feet.

  The leader was the only one left. She raised her blaster, aiming for Zandro's head, but Aliette slammed into her, knocking her to the ground. She punched the other woman about the face hard as she could. Aliette lurched forward to shove the blaster away from the woman's pawing hands.

  They fumbled and hit at each other, tangled in a heap of lashing limbs. The woman's elbow connected, and Aliette's breath puffed out of her, leaving her stomach aching. A well-placed punch to the nose left Aliette seeing black at the edges of her vision. Aliette was better trained, but the other woman was heavier than her and brutal.

  She rolled before Aliette could get her bearings and pinned her to the deck, one meaty arm across Aliette's throat. Aliette clawed at her hands and thrashed, but with panic rising, she realized she couldn't budge the other woman.

  “Hey!” Zandro’s voice.

  Aliette’s attacker glanced up.

  Zandro stood over them with the blaster tight to his shoulder and aimed at the woman’s head. “Get your ass off this ship. Now.”

  The woman narrowed her eyes. “You're the kitten guy, right?” she scoffed. “I don't believe you'll use that.”

  Zandro smiled thinly. “I got top marks at the Star Guard Academy for sharp shooting, lady. Kitten care is only one of my skills. Let her up.”

  The woman glared, but she sat back on her heels.

  Aliette sucked in a deep breath and coughed. She was still pinned, but at least she could breathe.

  “Maybe we can reach some kind of—aurgh.” Unbeknownst to the woman, the two kittens had been wobbling toward her this whole time and, when she wasn't paying attention, they had launched themselves at her unprotected arms, latching on hard with teeth and claws.

  She flailed and slapped, trying to get them off. Aliette braved her wildly waving arms and yanked first one kitten free then the other. The woman was already swaying, the pheromones hitting her like a hammer.

  Aliette cradled the kittens close to her own chest, kissing their heads as she scooted away.

  “No, this isn't…” The woman never got to finish her thought as her eyes rolled back. She fell forward against the deck with a bang. Neither Zandro nor Aliette moved to catch her.

  Aliette eased gently to her feet, hugging the kittens. They were still wound up, trembling against her, but they snuggled closer against her clothes, trying to burrow under. “Sssh, sssh. You're ok. You're my little heroes.”

  Zandro stood over the only one of the henchmen who'd managed not to get scratched. He pointed the blaster at the man's chest, and the man held his hands up. “Do you surrender, or should we sic the kittens on you too?”

  The man snorted, his eyes sliding worriedly toward Aliette and the kittens then to his two colleagues as they groaned and thrashed on the floor. “I give up. Keep those furbags away from me.”

  “Damn right.” Zandro nodded.

  ***

  They secured the henchmen with ropes and heavy duty zip ties from her toolbox, and Zandro stood watch over them with the blaster while Aliette called for reinforcements. The sheriff station on Anteros XII was closer, but she called a friend at another nearby colony world instead. They were about halfway between one and the other anyway. And she didn't trust the Anteros XII sheriff department as far as she could throw them in heavy grav.

  While Zandro saw to the kittens, Aliette scuttled across to the drug dealer's transport and disengaged the flex tube from her ship. She'd already sealed Zandro and the kittens off in the galley and the drug dealers off in the spare bunkroom, so she puttered around outside her ship welding on a patch over the hole they'd blown through her cargo hold. It kept her hands and mind busy so she didn't have to think about how close she'd come to losing her ship, losing everything today.

  As she floated past the galley porthole, Zandro waved at her, and she bit her lip and looked away. Everything. She truly could've lost everything.

  She finished her repairs just as her friend the cop arrived in a colony cruiser ship with a whole cadre of reinforcements. They took charge of the three drug dealers—two of which were still having bad trips—and their ship. And, a little while after that, a star-tug came along to get The Dulcinea towed to the nearest planet and off the star lanes. Aliette was finally forced to strip out of her spacesuit and go back inside. She could've hidden in the cockpit and made chitchat with the tow pilot over the com, but that didn't seem fair to Zandro.

  Anyway, she'd faced down murderous drug dealers today and a pair of worked up bajo kittens. She'd finally found enough bravery within herself to handle The Talk with Zandro.

  “Hi.” He smiled as she approached. It was feeding time, of course, and she automatically plucked the second kitten out of the box and started the process of rigging up the tiny nipple on the syringe and measuring out formula. The kittens were already visibly growing, their coats glossy. The girls ate heartily that night, and Aliette smiled at her little champions.

  “So, are you going to do a vid on using bajo cats as backup in a fight?” Aliette stroked her hand over the silky fur of Baby Blue.

  Zandro laughed and shook his head. “Ah. No. This whole misadventure has actually been horrible for
my vid channel. Hardly any useable footage at all.”

  “Are they ok, by the way?” She craned to get a glance at Violet in his lap, and the little purple looked all right, happily slurping her formula, dwarfed by Zandro’s giant hand.

  Zandro nodded. “Seem to be. Hungry. A little rattled right after, but I just gave them lots of snuggles and formula, and they settled down soon enough. My hands started to tingle, though, so they must have really been pumping out their pheromones.”

  Aliette frowned. “I thought you were immune.”

  “I am essentially, which means the dose must have been really high.”

  “Oh.” She stared down at the little kitten under her hand. “How did you build your tolerance up, by the way? So you don't have to use the dampening patches?”

  He sighed. “Slowly. Carefully. Spending more and more time handling the kittens bare-handed until it didn't affect me anymore.”

  “Could you…could you help me do that?”

  He recoiled like she'd slapped him, and then he leaned toward her, an eager light in his eyes. “Aliette?”

  She took a deep breath and looked back to the kitten, stroking her hand over its fur, focusing on the softness under her fingers. “I know you don't let your foster kittens go until they're at least eight weeks old, but when these two are ready to be adopted I want my name at the top of the list.”

  “You'll have to fight me for them.” His words were light, but his voice was rough, full of emotion.

  “Or…we could keep them together.” She forced herself to look at him and, when their eyes caught, it felt like every nerve in her body was vibrating—with elation, with anticipation, with fear.

  “Yes.” He put his dropper down and reached across to catch her fingers, cupping her hand and the kitten she held both. “Aliette, I don't have to keep doing rescue work. I can teach. I've had lots of offers to teach seminars, to give workshops on fostering. I'm tired of living my life crisis to crisis. I want to build something now. With you.”