Cypher (The Dragon's Bidding Book 2)

by Christina Westcott

  “Only once,” Fitz said. “Or twice.”

  “The lament of every pregnant teenager since humanity started walking upright. It only takes once, particularly if this thing wants to reproduce.”

  “What do you mean?” Von Drager asked.

  Ski ticked off two items on her fingers. “Survival and reproduction. They’re the two primary needs of every living organism. We provide its survival. We give it a place to live, we feed it, and by the very act of fighting to stay alive, we’re protecting it. In exchange, we get enhanced healing and a greatly extended lifespan. I’d say that’s a pretty nice bargain, for us anyway. And that leaves the symbiont with a single biological imperative—to reproduce itself. And it does that through us. From Garion, we know that our offspring will be born carrying the organism.”

  Ski was warming to her subject now. “It can control every function in our bodies. Think about that night Garion was conceived. Wolf and Ari’s affair was over. From what he told me, there had been no attraction between them for years. Yet, as soon as they met, the old hormones started flowing, and the next thing you know, they’re going at it like a couple of gerbats. On Ari’s part, all her symbiont had to do was stimulate the ovaries to produce an egg and, bang! You’ve got a fetus. I suspect the same thing happened with you.”

  “That would explain why the symbiont isn’t reacting normally,” Von Drager said. “It has to go partially into remission, otherwise it would assume the fetus was foreign biological tissue and try to expel it.”

  A sudden giddiness surged through Fitz. “Then it’s not the TKS returning?”

  “Probably not, but we need to check you out to be sure. No arguing this time.” Ski hooked her arm and dragged her along the corridor.

  “But I can’t be pregnant. An augie can’t… With all the equipment inside me… There’s no room for a baby.”

  “I know, and that’s why we need to get that little tyke out of there and somewhere safer than in a momma who’s always getting shot at and insists on defusing bombs.”

  This time Fitz didn’t argue. In the exam room, Fitz stripped to her underwear and stepped into the scanner, the bed reclining so the imager could sweep over her, building its three-dimensional picture of her body.

  “Well, Hansue be praised.” Ski’s sudden exclamation jarred Fitz’s already frazzled nerves. “Will you look at that? It’s beautiful. I haven’t seen anything like this in far too long. A fetus in utero. It’s just not done that way in many places anymore. As a mercenary physician, I see a lot more of life’s end than its beginning.” She swung the scanner’s display around so Fitz could see it.

  Stark and pale, her armored skeletal system stood out, supporting a jumble of computer modules, pumps, reservoirs and actuators, but floating serenely at the center of all the hardware was a tiny curl of life. Tears welled up in Fitz’s eyes and rolled down her cheeks. She touched the image on the screen. Wolf’s child. Their child. She had to force herself to breathe.

  He should be here, beside her, to share this, but she didn’t know if she’d ever see him again. He’d been there yesterday on the ship, in control of his body, and she’d hoped—no, she’d prayed—that he’d be waiting for her at her office or their home. But he hadn’t been. He hadn’t contacted her either. She had to assume Cypher had regained control.

  How would Wolf react to the news that he was to be a father again? His relationship with Garion was somewhat strained and distant.

  “Will he be angry with this new development?” Fitz hadn’t realized she’d spoken aloud until Ski answered.

  “Angry? Hell, no. He’ll love it. It’s a new life, a unique being that you and he have made together with your love. He’s in love with you, so he’ll be crazy about the baby.”

  “But he’s not getting along with Garion so well.”

  “That’s different. Discovering you have an adult son forty-some years after the fact has to be tough. And he no longer has anything but a professional relationship with the mother. Give him time, he’ll come around. He loves that mangy overweight cat of his, doesn’t he?” She squeezed Fitz’s hand. “Despite all his family’s money, Wolf had a horrible childhood. I know he’ll do everything within his power to see that his child has all the love and protection he never received.”

  “But with our jobs, our crazy schedules—how can we raise a child?”

  “I’m not going to kid you; it won’t be easy, but you’re two of the savviest people I know. You’ll figure it out, you’ll see. Now, get dressed. I’m going make arrangements with Fleet’s Birthing Center to have an operating room and artificial womb ready to transfer her out of there tomorrow.”

  “Her?” Fitz asked. “It’s a girl?”

  “Pretty sure. We’ll know for certain tomorrow.” She wiped the tears from Fitz face. “Your hormone levels will rebalance quickly after the procedure, so you won’t feel quite so weepy.”

  “Good. I couldn’t understand what was wrong with me. All I wanted to do was cry. What about the nausea? Will that go away?”

  “The morning sickness? Yep, that too. You’ll be back to your old kick-ass self by this time tomorrow.”

  Ski walked away, signaling Von Drager to join her, leaving Fitz alone with her thoughts, and the image of their child. She stroked the screen as if she could caress her daughter.

  I promise you, Little One, that you’ll have all those things I longed for as a child. You’ll never know hunger, or have to steal to stay alive, like I did. And you will know the love of both a mother and a father. Have no doubt about that. If I have to tear apart the Empire with my bare hands, I’ll see to it that Wolf is there to see you grow up.

  Fitz rose and slipped back into the emotional armor of her black uniform.

  Ski returned with a data chip. “Here’s the address. Be there at 0800 hours tomorrow. Now go pick up that scroungy cat and tell him he’s about to be an uncle.”

  Minutes later Fitz stepped off the lift, thoughts adrift, attempting to locate solid footing in the shifting future her life had taken on. Her comm activated: a series of howls, hisses, and growls rip-sawed through her head. She launched into HK before the mental screaming identified the sender.

  “Gerbats. They’re all over me. Get ’um off. Get ’um off of me!”

  She charged into the office and the veterinarian, Dr. Krizova, glanced up, along with the SpecOps cyber-tech.

  “Someone’s attacking Jumper,” she yelled.

  “Nothing to worry about, Colonel,” the vet said. “He’s having a bit of trouble coming out of the anesthetic. That often happens with Kaphier cats—something to do with their telepathic abilities. That’s why I always wear this thing when I operate on one.” He pointed to a headset that held a tele-suppressing module against his temple.

  “Wish you’d told me about that,” the cyber-tech said, her teeth bared in a pained rictus. “I hope you’re not planning to set a precedent on augmenting animals, Colonel. Otherwise I’d suggest you dragoon my ex-bond-partner next time,” she said, and hurried for the door.

  From the adjacent recovery room, Fitz heard the cat’s howls overlaying the broadcast in her head as his mental voice launched into a particularly raunchy Fleet drinking song. She shut down her comm.

  “With the exception of that little problem, the surgery went remarkably well,” the vet said. “He may be a little wobbly for a while, but he’ll be back to normal by tonight. You do realize that all he can broadcast are cat sounds—meows and such.”

  “I’m aware of that, but since he can’t receive telepathically, I needed a way to contact him quietly.”

  Dr. Krizova packed his equipment back into his case. “Yes. He does have some rather interesting limitations on his abilities. That, along with the missing tail, must be a throwback to a pre-genetically-engineered ancestor.”

  A tech brought out a cat carrier. Jumper lay on his back giggling, waving paws wrapped in bright pink bandages.

  “What’s with his feet?” Fitz asked.

&nb
sp; “The bandages are there just to keep him from scratching himself, until he wakes up fully and gets accustomed to the claw caps.”

  “Claw caps?” Fitz didn’t like the sound of that.

  “The plexisteel claw caps I installed.”

  “I didn’t authorize that.”

  “I’m sorry, Colonel, but he requested it. A Kaphier Cat is a Class-2 sapient, and therefore able to make all legal decisions concerning himself. As long as he can pay for it—or in this case, convince Special Operations to foot the bill.”

  “But he’ll cut his ears off with those things.”

  “I did point that out to him, but he insisted. Relax, they’re not permanent. In four to six weeks, when the nails grow out, they’ll drop off. If he wants to keep them, they’ll have to be reapplied at that time—if he hasn’t slit his own throat.”

  “Doctor, did he mention anything about hands?”

  “Yes, but that procedure is a bit more complicated and will require extensive preparation.”

  “He’s not getting hands.”

  “I’m afraid that’s his decision. Second level sapient, remember. Good luck, Colonel.”

  Fitz ignored the puzzled looks that followed her as she carried the yodeling cat through the med-center to the landing pad on the roof. As she deposited him on the passenger seat of her aircar, a shout caught her attention.

  “Chima!” The mercenary sergeant raced across the pad and embraced Fitz in a bear hug. “I talked to Ski. I’m so excited for the both of you. A little Wolfalina. I can hardly wait to spoil her. Ski said you’re headed home. Swing by Bray’s place and I’ll pick up my stuff and join you.”

  “If you don’t mind, Sergeant, I think I’d like to be alone tonight. I have a lot to think about.” And if there was even the remotest chance that Wolf was there waiting for her…

  “Okay, Chima.” Bartonelli released her. “You sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m fine, but I suspect Lieutenant Pike might benefit more from your attention tonight.” The young officer had eventually managed to catch up with them. There were dark circles under his eyes, and a decidedly greenish cast to his face.

  “Yeah, that tranq he took was formulated to put Wolf down and keep him there for a while, so it kinda knocked Bray for a loop.”

  “Damn, Lieutenant, you’re lucky we didn’t kill you.” Fitz should have thought about that earlier, but so much had distracted her. Chalk it up to fluctuating hormones.

  “I’m fine, just won’t feel like running any PT qualifications anytime soon. I broke the encryption on Doctor DeWitt’s files, and should have a report to you by tomorrow.”

  “No rush. Look, I need to get this drugged-out cat home.”

  At the SpecOps hangar they transferred over to her shuttle. She placed the carrier on the co-pilot’s seat and dropped into hers. “Take us home, Lizzy.”

  “About time.” The ship climbed out, turning north-east for the flight to Sea Spires.

  Jumper’s discordant singing finally began to wind down.

  “Ooh, my head hurts. Don’t ever let me do that much catnip again.”

  “It’s just the comm unit. It makes your head feel stuffed up for a day or two. You’ll get used to it.”

  The carrier rocked as the cat thrashed around inside it. “What’s this?”

  More banging inside the case ensued, and an unwrapped paw poked out through the wire door. Jumper flexed his toes.

  “Wow. Will you look at these babies?”

  Light gleamed on the needle-sharp tips of the plexisteel claws.

  “Put your bandages back on,” Fitz said.

  “I’m fine. I’ll be careful.” He plunked the claws against the wire door until Fitz was ready to scream. “Boy, wait until those gerbats get a load of these beauties. They’ll be running for the tall grass.”

  His screech a few minutes later sent Fitz lunging to open the carrier door. Jumper stared back at her, blood running down his nose.

  “Sorry. Cut myself.”

  She grabbed the brightly-colored bandages and wrapped his paw back up. “Now leave those on.”

  “But do they have to be pink? Everyone will think I’m a calico.”

  “You wanted those claws, Jumper. You’re just going to have to deal with it.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  “Now let me get this straight. You’re going to have a kitten?” The cat’s green eyes were wide and unfocused.

  “A baby, Jumper. Humans call them babies,” Fitz said.

  “Oh, yeah. But they take years to grow up, not weeks like proper Kaphier kittens; they crawl around on the floor, puking, peeing, and pooping everywhere. And I’ve heard they often pull cats’ tails.”

  “That wouldn’t be a problem for you.”

  “I should hope not.” Jumper twitched the puff of fur on his behind and staggered. He hadn’t quite shaken off the effects of the anesthetic.

  Fitz crossed her arms and glanced sideways at him. “After the baby comes, there’ll be no more plexisteel claws.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I give up. You were right. It was a dumb idea.” He inspected a paw swathed in bandages, now white. Two additional red welts crisscrossed his nose, and a patch of neu-skin held a long slice together on one ear. “How do you plan on telling him?”

  “I’ll tell Wolf, but I don’t want to let Cypher know.”

  “Considering that they’re stuck together in the same body, that might be a little tricky.”

  “No, it won’t. I just have to get rid of Cypher.”

  “Isn’t that what you’ve been trying to do?”

  Anxiety made her words harsher than she intended. “Wolf was there yesterday, Jumper. In that hangar bay. I know it.”

  “Then why hasn’t the Big Guy come home? He only has to yank out that lousy spike and he’d be free.”

  “You don’t think I haven’t asked myself that a thousand times? I can understand him not coming out then. Showing up on the Mad Dog after he’d boarded as an assassin would have raised embarrassing questions, but all the way back down from Coronia Station, I expected him to contact me. Or that he’d be waiting in my office. Or here…” Her voice broke, and she shook her head before she could continue. “I expected him to be here. Every time I hear a noise in the house, I think it’s him.

  They stood on the balcony of Sea Spires, the ocean beyond the railing gray and restless as her mood. Carved by the waves, the rocky towers that gave the estate its name stood offshore, a bank of clouds shrouding their tops. The weather front that had brought cold rain to Striefbourne City carried the promise of snow here, hundreds of klicks to the north. Flurries danced in the wind and salted Jumper’s black-furred back.

  Her inhead signaled an incoming call on the residence’s comm. She snatched up the cat and hurried inside to take it. The caller wasn’t who she’d hoped.

  Braylin Pike slouched behind his desk, jacket off and sleeves rolled up. A half-eaten sandwich lay on a plate at his elbow.

  “Lieutenant, I thought I ordered you to relax,” Fitz said.

  “I am relaxing. I find data mining very soothing.”

  Bartonelli leaned into view on the monitor, sliding a cup of coffee in front of Pike. “Yeah, but she expects you to do your relaxing in bed.”

  The fact that Pike believed this was vital enough to get it to her immediately made Fitz nervous, and that it had to be in person even more so. “Couldn’t this have waited until tomorrow?”

  “You won’t be in until late in the day because of your procedure, and I thought we needed to go over this information.” He waved his hand in a spinning motion. “When we spoke yesterday, I’d only examined the official records on the experiments, and they indicated they were terminated because of disappointing results.”

  “Personality disruptions could certainly be disappointing,” Fitz said.

  “I finally got into DeWitt’s private notes on the outcome, and the word he used was a bit stronger than that. He called them devastating.”

  Fitz pushed
upright in her chair. “How so?”

  “They started the experiments with five test subjects, referred to as the Resident Personalities. The actual owners, if you will, of the bodies. Each of them received a Secondary Personality who would be the cover for the sleeper agent. Before a month elapsed, three of the test subjects had committed suicide. In two of the cases, the Secondary killed himself. One even left a message in his computer stating that he couldn’t exist any longer with this monster living inside him.”

  “Then he became aware of the other person’s presence?” Fitz asked, remembering that second when she’d seen Wolf slip in and wrest control from Cypher.

  “It would seem so, but in the third case, the Resident Personality smuggled a weapon into the medical facility and gunned down a doctor and four med-techs before he took his own life.”

  Prickles flashed across Fitz’s cheeks. “If he could fight free of the Secondary’s control, why didn’t he just shut down his computer and terminate the experiment?”

  “These were Normals, not augies. It wasn’t as simple as pulling a spike to block the computer’s access to his mind. The Secondary Personality ran on a small dedicated computer implanted subcutaneously.” Pike tapped his shoulder, just below the collarbone.

  “It appeared that the shooter had taken a knife and dug his out. DeWitt hypothesized that this awareness of one another had prompted the psychic breakdowns and eventual suicides. He warned about a phenomenon he called ‘flickering’, where the personalities could switch dominance of the body, first one then the other, as if fighting for supremacy. The length of time one could hang on to control grew shorter and shorter until they were flickering so rapidly that it almost seemed as if they were both present at the same time. From that point on, personality disintegration set in quickly. Tell me, Colonel, you haven’t seen anything like that, have you? Say, Wolf would be there, then gone and suddenly back again?”