by Rena Marks
“Hurry! They have arrived. Get in. Hide.”
Without hesitation, she climbed into the shuttle. The glass midsection came down, locking her inside with a click that sounded too loud…too fatal. She pushed on it.
It wouldn’t budge.
“Serepto? It’s locked me in.”
“I know. It is for your own safety.”
She was panting, her breath fogging the glass plate.
* * * * *
Abort the project. I need you back on the ship. Something is wrong.
Like his, Jax’s eyes whirred blue at the sound of Orion’s voice cutting through their consciousness. He avoided the use of the ear coms, which meant an AI somehow managed to tap him in.
What’s happening? Serepto growled.
Shala contacted me about a wristwatch you left her. She was supposed to bring it to me so I can deactivate the soundwaves. She didn’t show up, and I can’t scan her body anywhere on the ship. She can only be in one location. The loading dock floor.
I didn’t leave her a wristwatch.
That’s what I figured. During the loss of shields when the three of you exited, someone must have beamed it aboard.
Serepto cursed. I told her I left her a surprise in our room. But that wasn’t it.
Dropping everything, he ran for the ship. His feet pounded on the ramp, echoing the beats of his heart. Up ahead, he could see the door to the ship was closed.
I will retrieve Arian. Jax’s voice shot through his head. Head underneath the ship.
Serepto dropped to the smaller ramps that linked beneath a docked vessel.
Don’t release the shields, Serepto said to Orion. It may be a trap to get us to do so. I will break through the loading dock at the thinnest entry. Keep the rest of the ship locked tight and sealed from our own loading dock floor. Jax, Arian and I will repair the hole during takeoff.
If they do have her there, they will not be able to beam her unless she gets off the ship. Make sure you grab the wristwatch and toss it into space.
Will do.
Breaking through the loading dock wasn’t easy. It destabilized the pressure they’d equalized for the trading post dock, and his heavy metal skeletal frame had to compensate, moving slowly through the lack of gravity.
Slowly, sound penetrated. Motors…and a scraping sound, like metal on metal.
One eerie shriek caught his ear.
“Serepto!” Shala screamed at the top of her lungs.
* * * * *
The whirring noise grew louder and she watched a heavy metal object rolling toward her, blades whirring. It was the automated emergency tool, meant to cut out the metallic side of the ship. But they didn’t need the side of the ship cut. In fact, the wall where the object was aimed was blocked by her tiny shuttle, an escape pod. She was directly in its path.
“Serepto!” she screamed again, terror striking higher as the cutting tool rolled closer. She beat her fists against the glass, but it was futile. Suddenly the air filled with smoke as the gravity sucked from the loading dock. Simultaneously, the pod filled with fresh, clean air inside, and all sound was blocked, including the screams she still emitted. From across the room, she could watch the tool moved even more quickly toward her. She continued to scream his name, over and over.
Suddenly a light blasted near the door and he was there, running toward her, blue eyes assessing the situation. That was why gravity changed. He’d broken through the ship. But it was too late. There was no way he could reach her in time. In horror, she watched as the scene changed to something of a slow-motion movie. At the last possible moment, he jumped, inserting himself between the machine and the escape pod, right when it reached her. His hands splayed on the glass viewing screen, right where hers were—palms lined up as if they touched.
And then a spray of blood whipped across the glass and she screamed and screamed, watching his face as instant pain whipped through, giving him the last emotion he hadn’t yet experienced in this physical body.
Acceptance.
Death.
Chapter Five
“Shala?”
Surely that pathetic croak couldn’t be him. It hurt to speak, and he wasn’t even quite aware of what he was asking. All his computer-chipped, but organic brain could understand was pain.
But someone knew what his voice couldn’t convey.
“She’s been abducted,” Jax said softly.
“How?” he creaked, looking around. The faces of his AI brothers were grim. Standing back a step, the newest members of Cyborgs were eerily expressionless.
“She was tricked into a shuttle set to beam into space, waiting for our shields to be released. From there she was beamed onto a vessel. A new invention, the beaming of live creatures. Remember our mission? Orion was going to mimic it for our safeguards.”
“Zetan?”
“Yes. They are the ones who have her. We are in pursuit. But first we need to…” his voice broke, unable to control his new emotions that came along with their new bodies.
Arian took over, her voice hard. “Serepto, we need to replace your legs with those of a Cyborg manufacture. It needs to be done now, while you still have the neural connections to your natural legs. Otherwise, you’ll need to learn to reuse them, and we don’t have time for that. Shala needs us.”
“My legs?” A vague memory of pushing the capsule with Shala locked inside, while his legs crushed in the spinning metal rotors of the mechanism that threatened to slice through the pod that had her trapped. The instant pain and shock, wiping everything from his consciousness. His eyes, locked on Shala’s, watching the horror unfold through her beautiful blue gaze that reflected the blood spray. He fought to sit up, looking down at the crushed shapes underneath the sheet that was stained red.
His metal skeletal frame should have held. But the flesh, the muscle, the skin…pulverized beyond hope.
Arian continued to bark. “Lay down! There’s no time to wallow in explanations. Shala needs to come first. We have Rush and Blade here to do the surgery. They’ve agreed to share their expertise. Tess, administer anesthesia.”
“No,” he muttered, trying to push against the arms of his brothers who suddenly forced him down. “I’ll stay awa—“
* * * * *
Bright overhead lights burned Serepto’s eyes when he tried to open them. He blinked, feeling the organic material tear up. Wetness overflowed, spilling down his cheeks, and someone wiped it away.
Time had passed. Arian and the two Cyborgs were gone. Jax and the rest of the council were present instead, standing around his bed staring like they would the viewing of a casket.
“It is done,” Jax said.
Serepto flung the sheet back to find himself nude from the waist down. His new legs were a more tanned color, and attached to his body with healed stitches.
“How long have I been out?” His voice was thick, gritty with disuse. But he continued to stare, afraid to wiggle the legs, afraid they wouldn’t respond.
“Easy,” Jax said, his hand on his chest, pushing him back down.
Echo recovered the sheet, pulling it back over his body. “I know you are impatient. But this is a surgery that has never been done before. The Cyborg limbs were replicated before being adapted to your body. A lot of improvisation was done. It was an experiment of mass proportions. The Cyborgs allowed the amputation of their limbs for replication, and then a reattachment. We owe a lot to them. Orion and Tian worked through Tess, adapting the limbs for your use.”
Sifahn stepped in. “We had unending issues. Cyborg blood is modified for their robotic parts. You still had your metal skeleton, whereas their limbs contain a separate frame. We’ve worked the issues through our collective and puzzled with the Cyborgs over the adaptations. The end results should be that your new limbs work exactly like your natural limbs, without a learning period of adjustment. Your brain, even with the shock, has not had a chance to realize your own legs were destroyed. That’s not to say there may not be emotional ramificati
ons later, once Shala is rescued and life goes back to normal. You may experience ghost pain, or the inability to control the new strength in the limbs. Or, they may not take. They may wither and die.”
Serepto couldn’t think about that. “Where is she?”
“On the planet Zeta. The damage to our ship was substantial. Naturally, they will not be expecting us, so we have the element of surprise.”
“I’ll beam down myself. Suicide mission. I don’t want anyone else hurt.”
Rune snorted. “We are the council. Do you really think we’re going to vote to allow you go down by yourself? No. Jax must stay behind to protect Arian, of course. The rest of us depart with you.”
“You’ll need us along for the ride also,” said a voice from the door. All heads turned as Blade and Rush walked in. “The Zetans will not expect our strength, especially when it’s turned against them.”
Though the amputated limbs were only recently reattached, they didn’t seem to be moving too slowly.
Rush grinned. “We heal fast. A special enzyme called cyberbiotics. It flows through our bloodstream.”
“Do I have it also?”
“No. The enzyme is created in our metal mainframe, where our bone marrow should be. But you have enough of ours in your new legs from our donation that it healed them. In a day you won’t even have the stitches.”
“The stitches don’t matter. I wish to retrieve Shala. Now.”
“Then let’s get a plan formulated. We’ve already lost Ghost. We refuse to lose Shala to them, too.”
Orion stepped in. “I constructed a rough draft to save time. We’ll have the council and Cyborgs take an escape pod down. I’ll work on picking up any stray beams they’ve used recently, hoping to find the one we’re looking for. It’ll be much slower if I do find it, because the waves won’t be fresh and I’ll have to piece together calculations. I may not get it right. Arian and Jax will be on hand to navigate our people through the planet. It’s to our benefit that the AI communicate telepathically. We won’t be traced with coms. We’ll lose the escape pods, because we’re planning on beaming you back up once you find her. After you leave, permanent repairs will be done to the secondary wall of the ship so we can escape faster, instead of the slow drift it took us to reach here.”
“The damage to the loading dock wasn’t repaired?” Serepto asked. “How did we get here?”
“Orion planned ahead,” Arian said softly. “Half the walls in the loading dock have a thin, temporary wall that sits recessed inside the hollowed frame. We were able to expand two out to cover the holes created by you and by Shala’s shuttle. During the slow drift to Zeta, some of the AI repaired the first hole by patching over the temp. We left the second one so that our pods could release once we arrived. The floating vessels won’t be detected by Zetan technology. Instead, the gravitational pull of the planet will pull them in. But if there are no waves for Orion to mimic, or if he gets the formula wrong and our beam doesn’t work, it’s a suicide mission.”
“Any pod we fly down there, we’re going to lose,” Vann said. “Let’s see if we can double up. It won’t be a comfortable ride, but it saves Arian’s resources. I will squeeze into one with Serepto. Let’s also take the oldest of the vessels.”
“Since the Cyborgs are naturally heavier, maybe you two should split up?” Sifahn said. “I’ll ride with Rush. Blade can go with Dieroc.”
“We need to consider this a suicide mission,” Serepto said. “I’d really prefer if we had just us six, in case of loss. Rune and Echo—I know you’re both willing to stand by us. But please, I’d like for a couple of us to survive.”
Rune and Echo looked at each other. Finally, Echo spoke. “One of us needs to be with Blade and Rush for communication purposes, since we’ll have no coms. The other can connect with Orion to notify the others of what’s happening. You’ll retrieve Shala, and the other four are muscle. We’re going.”
Serepto nodded. “So be it.”
“I’ve set the coordinates for you to land in a valley about one mile from the slave-selling stage. The hills help mask your arrival. Collect the magnetic pulls from our escape pods. You’ll head northeast. On Zeta, that is away from the sun as it sets. When you reach the stage, it should be deserted since the slaves will be en route to their new homes. If the transports are still there, two of you can stow on board underneath the trucks for a dirty, dusty ride to the farms. Strap the magnetic pulls around you, and let them attach to the transport. Do not disengage them when the trucks stop until it becomes dark. The trucks are manned by four guards, and they travel in lots of three. Because of that, it doesn’t matter which truck you hide on. It may take all day to deliver slaves, but you’ll know which slave is being released at that point. The four guards who drove that vehicle will prepare the slave for her new home, and usually the other eight guards from the other two trucks will come to watch, like it’s some kind of game. If it’s Shala’s turn to be discharged, that will be a perfect time to release yourselves from the trucks to hide on the property. Again, don’t expose yourself until the sun comes down. Alarms will sound and lasers work with the sun’s energy, and you can be shot at any time.
“Once it gets dark, you can attack. Dieroc will send me a one-shot signal and I’ll trigger the timer for our beam, which gives you about thirty seconds. I have active samples of everyone’s DNA. Serepto, make sure you’re touching Shala for her to layer onto your beam. If it works, the next thing you’ll know is you’ll be here on the ship. If it doesn’t…try to take down as many Zetan bastards as you can in the time you have left.”
“What if the vehicles have already left to deliver slaves?” Rune asked.
Orion shrugged. “You can wait until dark and break into the small building where records of that day’s sales are being uploaded. It will give you the address of where she was delivered. But if it is a distance away, I don’t know how else you can get there. It’s possible you can steal a vehicle and hope not to get caught. But chances are much more slim in that scenario.”
* * * * *
Catcalls followed her as she was led to the center of a stage-like area, walking as carefully as she could while being prodded along with electric sticks. Off in the far distance, she could hear sobbing. Feminine sobbing.
The bag was whipped off Shala’s head, leaving her blinking at the…familiar sunlight. She gasped, feeling instantly overwhelmed.
Not here. There was only one place she knew of where the sun was a glorious shade of green.
Surely it couldn’t be…she looked around. It was a familiar spot where she stood. The slave-selling stage. She’d been here many times before. She was a hot commodity, with her naturally black hair and blue eyes.
She wore a simple see-through sheath with a shock collar. The sheath left nothing to the imagination, showing the color of her nipples and every mole on her body.
Other women stood around in cages, some huddled, dressed simply in loincloths with a bandeau tied around their breasts.
Icy dread whipped through her midsection. This was her biggest nightmare, her life back on Zeta. Then the dread faded as a bigger, gut wrenching emotion hit.
Serepto’s death.
He’d sacrificed himself, knowing the whirring rotary blades were coming at the shuttle she was trapped in. And for what? So she could return to the horrors she’d once escaped?
His death was in vain.
A hushed silence fell over the crowd as they recognized her.
She thought she’d go crazy from the silence. Finally the auctioneer spoke.
“This one is Shala, stolen from us three years ago. She is already broken in.”
There was a roll of murmurings, but she couldn’t catch the words. She simply knew her worth just jumped.
“The hair is a natural black,” the auctioneer said.
“Ten thousand credits,” someone called out.
“Twenty-five.”
The auctioneer shook his head quizzically, tilting it to one side. �
��She is young and can double as slave labor.”
“Seventy-five.”
“Eighty.”
“For those of you exploring the range of emotions and feelings we bring back into our race, she is free from sexual disease.”
Her worth tripled.
“Three hundred thousand.”
It was a mixed breed that called out. She shivered. Slaves were usually killed in the keep of a mixed breed, never resold.
“Any other questions or offers?” The auctioneer’s voice rang.
“How many successful breedings?” The one who was in the top bidding asked.
She whimpered when her white sheath-dress was ripped from her body, leaving her standing naked. The shameful, tattooed dots across her abdomen were on display for all to see.
Serepto once thought they were a whimsical tattoo of a planetary galaxy. But here, they were a heavy reminder of her worth.
Her new owner’s eyes gleamed and he nodded, agreeing to the final sale.
The guard picked up the staff and poked her on the shoulder, forcing her back to the cage. The door was held open by another guard, who tossed brown rags in after her. Huddled in her cage, she made a simple loincloth and bandeau top, like the others. The other slaves, huddled in similar cages, avoided her eyes. One continually sobbed. No one would talk. She’d forgotten what it was like to be a Zetan slave. How had Arian ever rounded them up for escape?
She’d rather die than the face the fate waiting for her. She’d join Serepto. Of course there was nothing sharp in the cage, and the rags they’d given her to wear were purposely designed so thin they’d rip, preventing a hanging.
Time dragged on, and her cage sat in the hot sun. She was thirsty, incredibly tired, and still shell-shocked. How could life be so different now? A week ago she had everything, a new planet, new friends, the love of her life. In an instant, it was wiped away and she was returned to the way things had been. Hell.
All she could do was huddle on the straw strewn across the bottom of her cage and weep like the other slaves while she was forced to listen to the other sales.
