Bearly Christmas

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Bearly Christmas Page 61

by Becca Fanning


  “I was raised in one of the Mason buildings,” she said. “What did you say this was again?”

  “Seaweed, tofu, and soy paste. So your parents worked for them?” Zosha scrunched her nose.

  Delphine frowned, trying to calculate the nutritional gain from the soup. “If by parents, you mean the people who donated their genetic material to my existence, then yes.”

  Annie snorted. “Not close, I take it.”

  “I never met our ‘father,’ and our ‘mother’ was removed when it was decided she had an inappropriate emotional connection to us.” Delphine took a bite of the soup. It was salty, but decent for space food.

  “Wait, I’m sorry,” Hyde said, leaning in. “‘Emotional connection?’ Also, if you weren’t raised by your parents, how did you grow up at a Mason center and not, like, an orphanage?”

  “Mason sank too much time and money into my cluster’s creation, even after some executives raised concerns about how our ‘mother’ raised us. She got upset when we felt pain,” Delphine explained. “And the prospect of us dying alarmed her. Our training suffered, and when our results were significantly lower than other clusters an investigation was launched and we were reassigned to a trainer who was capable of completing the required curriculum.” Delphine forced her mind to shut out the memory of trainer Ramirez’s warm brown eyes, the ghostly pressure of arms around her and a voice telling her someone loved her, the way she’d screamed when the guards dragged her out of the dormitory. She’d called them her children. How foolish.

  “Okay, so when you say ‘creation…’” Zosha trailed off. Everyone at the table was staring at Delphine, food forgotten.

  “Mason decided it wanted to branch out from making prosthetics to making entire beings. You must have noticed my irregular biology,” Delphine said. “Do you have the nutritional information for this by any chance?”

  “What you’re saying sounds a lot like creating artificial life,” Annie said slowly, “which is very, very illegal.”

  Delphine shrugged. “You came to blows with them over U4 trade. They obviously aren’t very concerned with legality. They needed loyal, skilled, combat-trained guards to protect their interests. The most efficient way to get them was to make them. I don’t consider my life to be artificial, if that makes a difference to you.”

  “What are you, exactly?” Dominic asked, eyes narrow.

  “Human, mostly. My cluster was from the round of experimentation with wolf splices. I’m told there were high hopes for us. We were promising until trainer Ramirez failed to follow protocol.”

  “So they made you, and they trained you to kill people, and they just send you out whenever they want?” Zosha asked, eyes wide. “That’s horrible!”

  “Not particularly,” Delphine said. “It just…is.”

  “What happened to the rest of you cluster?” Zosha demanded, her eyes shining.

  “I am the last one,” Delphine told her, a familiar cold sweeping through her. “The others were flawed.”

  “And you aren’t flawed,” Hyde said softly.

  “Of course not,” Delphine bit out. “I overcame my upbringing. My record is impeccable.”

  There was a moment of horrified silence. Delphine sat perfectly still, every nerve on edge. Custer’s smile was still on his face, but barely, and his eyes were distant.

  “Leo,” Annie said in a low, controlled voice, “I think this needs to become a discussion.”

  “What do you mean, a discussion?” Zosha burst out. “We can’t let them get her back!”

  “Agreed,” Hyde said, “but we also can’t take any chances. She’s flawless, you heard her, and she’s still on the job.”

  “She just gave us evidence that could shut down Mason permanently,” Rick pointed out quietly.

  “Because she doesn’t think we’ll live long enough to do anything about it,” Dominic shot back.

  “I currently think trying to kill you would be a waste of time and energy,” Delphine volunteered. “Currently, I’m just waiting until Mason finds us and sends a squadron to kill us all.”

  “Yeah, thanks,” Hyde muttered. “Wait, all of us?”

  “Like you said, I’m evidence. Once the squadron kills you, the assignment will be completed and I will have failed it. This will mean I have a no longer flawless record and will have spent a significant amount of time with the enemy, none of whom I have managed to harm in any significant way. Combined with my history, a case will be made that I do not have the emotional capability to complete my job, and I can’t be allowed to live.”

  “And you’re just waiting for this to happen?” Annie asked.

  “What else can I do? I can’t run, and if I could, what would I do? I have a specific set of skills and that’s all.”

  “If you could get away from Mason, would you run?” Custer asked, never looking away from the patch of wall he was staring at.

  What a silly question. If she could get away from Mason, she would fly.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Delphine said. “I can’t get away. Neither can you.”

  “Historically speaking, we’re very good at doing what people say we can’t,” the captain said, entering the conversation. His fingers were steepled, his eyes serious. Suddenly, he was someone that commanded respect. “I see no reason this should be an exception.”

  “Oh, good,” Hyde sighed. “Congratulations. You just became one of Leo’s hopeless cases. I’ll go ahead and put her on the crew roster, shall I?”

  “Not just yet,” Ingram said. “We have to see if we survive first. I’ll assume that we universally agree that we should try and find a way to stop Mason from killing us. Any of us.”

  A murmur of assent rippled around the table.

  “Can we threaten them with Delphine?” Annie asked. “I mean, like she said, she’s evidence that they’re doing way more than smuggling. Creating artificial life, especially for combat, gets the death sentence.”

  “They’d still come after us. It’s basically the exact situation we’re in now, except now we have more information. It’s in their best interest to kill us either way,” Rick pointed out.

  “What about the other smugglers? Delphine, do you know what happened to the smugglers Mason used to get U4 to Lytos before we took over?”

  “Some,” Delphine said, wracking her memory. “The ship employed was the ITC Rabblerouser. After losing the U4 deal with Lytos, Mason tried to employ them to run a more dangerous quadrant. They refused and ended up cutting ties with the company. I’m not sure how they’re currently employed.”

  “What if we can get them to say they smuggled the U4 into quadrants that ban us? Would they back off if we came at them from two fronts?” Annie asked.

  “Rabblerouser’s based out of Saltos,” Hyde said. “Or they were. I worked with them for a few months. It’s two days from here, easy.”

  Delphine shook her head. “They’ll just deny the claims and keep coming after us.”

  “They won’t be able to,” Zosha said. “Sylas will back it up, and people listen when he talks. And Da—and my friend will help us.”

  Delphine had a pretty good idea who Zosha’s friend was. She very carefully avoided thinking about it.

  “Saltos, you said. We’ll plot a course now,” the captain said, rising to his feet. “Zosha, talk to your friend. I’m going to call Sylas. Rick, you and Annie are in the cockpit. Everyone else, do whatever makes you feel useful.”

  The group split apart, everyone going to their designated place. Only Delphine and Custer remained still. She looked around, dazed, and realized that these people really thought this would work.

  “Do you remember what you said to me the first time we met?” Custer asked quietly. “You were drugged to the gills and also tied to a chair, so I won’t hold it against you if you don’t.”

  “I suppose you mean the rant about you not doing anything, followed by you doing something?”

  “That’s the one. Just remember, I excel at changing destinies
. I’ll get you through this,” he said, finally looking at her. She could have drowned in the look in his eyes.

  “As long as I don’t have to change my name,” she said in an attempt to force the conversation back onto more comfortable ground. “Tell me, were you a Civil War enthusiast or were you just a fan of Strathmore?”

  Custer groaned, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “Neither, I promise. It was a very, very old song my mom used to sing to me as a kid. I don’t know why, it was incredibly depressing. It’s about a man who doesn’t want to die. After she died, I was tired of being Anthony and it was the first name I could think of when I was getting fake papers. I didn’t even know who he was until people started making jokes.”

  Delphine laughed softly. “So, what now?”

  “Now,” Custer said, pushing back from the table, “we go back to my room and you get some serious rest. You both need and deserve it. Also, we get the collar off.”

  Delphine’s hand flew to her neck in surprise. She’d forgotten about it. Custer lead her out of the kitchen and to the hallway containing the rooms, punching in the code for his and walking inside.

  The inside was a standard bedroom for smaller ships. There was clothing and the like pushed into piles on the floor. It was an almost controlled mess, which Delphine supposed was a pretty good metaphor for Custer himself.

  “Come here,” Custer told her, pulling a small device out of his pocket. Delphine obeyed and Custer leaned forward and cupped her neck with his free hand. Her heart stuttered as he leaned in, his warmth seeping into her. There was a click and the collar dropped away. Custer kicked and it skidded under his bed.

  “Better?” he asked, not leaning away or removing his hand.

  “Much,” she said more quietly than she meant to.

  The seconds ticked past as they stood there, staring into each other’s eyes. The only point of contact was his hand on her neck, but it felt…intimate. Delphine was so tempted to just lean forward and press their lips together. It would be so easy. It was also, she knew, a tremendously bad idea. After a moment of perfect stillness, Custer pulled back.

  “Alright, so, do you need something to sleep in?” he asked, walking to his desk and shoving few papers aside.

  “No, I’m good,” Delphine said, hovering. She wasn’t sure what she should be doing, exactly.

  Custer turned to look at her. “Sheets are clean. I’ll try to be quiet.”

  “Thank you,” she said, and walked stiffly to the bed. She sat on it, trying to convince herself that getting under the blankets wouldn’t be horrifically awkward. It was anyways, but at least Custer wasn’t looking.

  “Lights to fifteen percent,” he said, and the lights immediately lowered. “Is this okay?”

  “Yes, thank you,” Delphine said.

  She meant to stay awake and think what had happened over, but her body had other plans. Her carefully monitored sleep cycle had been thrown completely out of whack and her tiredness was catching up to her. Being on an actual mattress didn’t help. She decided that she’d sleep now and wake up early to process then. Instead, she slept for what appeared to be twelve hours and spent the day so groggy and tired she was a bit suspicious she’d been drugged again. She ate and talked with Custer and did nothing productive, like nothing had changed from two days ago. The next day was no better. The others seemed to be trying their hardest to keep her away from their planning, which was fair but meant there was nothing for her to do. She ended up, once again, trailing after Custer like a puppy. The experience was neither as boring or as frustrating as it should have been.

  Finally, they reached Saltos. All members of the crew met in the cargo bay.

  “Alright,” the captain said, all other chatter fading away. “Here’s what we’re going to do: Hyde, you need to go meet the man whose info I sent you. Make sure he knows exactly what happens if he tells tales out of school. Rick, Zosha, we need to stock up on supplies as long as we’re planet-side. Having an extra person means food disappears faster. Shocking, I know. A list has been forwarded to you. Custer, Delphine, you’re trawling for information. It should be easy, they were apparently pretty infamous around here. Me, Annie, and Dom are going to stay with the ship. We all have work we can do while we’re waiting. Everyone got it?”

  “I’m sorry,” Hyde said, “did you just say we’re sending Delphine out of the ship? Without the collar?”

  “She knows what to look out for, Custer isn’t one of her main targets, she’s pretty sure we’re all going to get killed by her coworkers anyways, and she deserves it after the week she’s had,” Ingram said in the tone of a man who’d been on the receiving end of those very arguments. “That okay with you?”

  Hyde snorted. “Whatever. Just don’t come crying to me when Custer gets his ass killed.”

  “Noted,” Ingram said. “Any other complaints?”

  “Here’s hoping I don’t regret this horribly,” Ingram said, rubbing a hand over his face. “Just know, if we end up swarmed by security, mercenaries, or angry small business owners, I will shoot both of you.”

  “Duly noted,” Custer, giving a half-hearted salute. He turned to Delphine. “You ready to go?”

  “Of course,” she answered.

  “Great. Remember: everyone needs to be back to the ship in two hours. If, for whatever reason, you can’t make it in time comm one of us. Now, get out.” The captain turned and started talking to Annie in a low voice. She flipped her hair back and smirked at him. Delphine doubted they’d get much research done.

  “So I was thinking,” Custer said, drawing her attention back to him, “that we could hit the square. There’s usually an outdoor market on weekdays, and the stalls have some interesting stuff. After that, there’s a pretty decent bar around here. I doubt you’ve ever gone bar crawling during a mission, which is practically a crime. Plus, information.”

  “That sounds…” Delphine paused searching for a word to capture the warm, fluttery feeling in her stomach. She couldn’t find one that could properly convey it. “…fun.”

  Custer smiled, the same manic grin as always but with a soft light in his eyes. “Off we go, then.”

  And off they went. The crowd at the market stalls appeared to be thinning out and a few stalls had started to pack. Delphine wandered around the stalls, eyes roving over carvings, hand-made jewelry, and other pretty baubles that held no use. Custer, content to let her take the lead, trailed behind her.

  There was a stall that sold knives. Delphine found herself disappointed in the wares; the few that weren’t purely ornamental were poorly made and dull. She passed over the stall, nodding at the owner, and found herself looking at a stall that sold metal jewelry. The pieces were beautiful, the few that were left. Delphine was ready to move on to the next booth when one of the bracelets caught her eye.

  She couldn’t say why, exactly. It was a fairly simple gold number, broad, with a geometric pattern carved into it. The glittering bracelet was really more charming than beautiful, and certainly not useful at all. There was no reason to want it, and yet she couldn’t take her eyes off of it.

  “Would you like to buy it, miss?” the vendor asked in heavily accented Standard.

  Delphine forced herself to smile. “No thank you.”

  “Are you sure?” The woman cocked her head, purple eyes unblinking. “I can give you a good bargain on it.”

  Delphine was about to refuse her again when Custer cut her off.

  “What kind of deal are we talking about here?” he asked with a smirk.

  The wrinkled old woman put a hand over her heart and fluttered her eyelashes at him. “For you, handsome, eight chits.”

 

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