“Affirmative.” She pulled out one of the two alloy chairs and folded her hands on the table. Her gaze focused on his face and cunning flashed for a moment before she looked away. Lyrik recoiled. Make sure she’s not playing you. She’s got the training of a soldier and the wiles of a woman. That’s one dangerous combination.
He tapped an area on the control band strapped to his forearm, and ankle restraints snapped into place. She didn’t so much as flinch.
“Where is my handler?” There was a hint of animosity in her tone.
“There’s been an accident.” He really didn’t want the responsibility but he saw no alternative. “I’m your handler now, D-159, acknowledge my authority.”
“I heard her voice,” she challenged. “I know she’s here. Where is—”
“Acknowledge my authority now.”
She raised her chin and gazed beyond him, her face expressionless again. “You are my handler. How shall I address you?”
“Sir.”
“I await your command, sir.”
Now that sounded downright sarcastic. What was she up to?
“My command is simple. Eat, drink and cause no more harm.”
“Yes sir.”
Lyrik paused in the corridor and rolled his shoulders, releasing the tension gathering at the base of his neck. The first time he’d seen Saebin had been on a vidfile. She’d been battling Vee, the most powerful Mystic on Ontariese, and she’d kicked his ass. After rendering Vee unconscious, she’d gone into a prolonged seizure. Lyrik had been sure no one could have survived it, but here she was ready to battle again.
Taking the corridor to his left, he entered the control booth and activated the vidscreen. Good, it was still functioning. He forwarded the information to security and glanced back at Saebin. She sat in exactly the same position she’d been in when he left. Was there a woman locked inside the implants or had Saebin been lost long ago?
Heaving a ragged sigh, he tapped in the code for his father’s private office. Overlord Cyrus came on screen. Gray-streaked brown hair framed his weathered face. His features were rugged and commanding. A close-cropped beard framed his thin-lipped mouth.
“Is she still alive?” Cyrus asked without preamble.
“So far.”
“I heard she shot out surveillance to the room.”
“She appears to have a thing about being watched. Security is monitoring my audiocom but that’s the best we can do for now. She’s calm and relatively cooperative. I was about to send for a meal tray.”
“Is it safe to send in a staffer?” Cyrus sounded wary. It took a lot to intimidate his father. Why hadn’t he seen this coming? “I can’t believe what that slip of a girl did to my men.”
“Are you alone, sir?”
One of Cyrus’ eyebrows arched dramatically. “Are you going to reprimand me?”
They balanced a fine line. As father and son they enjoyed an easy rapport, but Overlord Cyrus demanded respect, whether or not he’d earned it.
“Your entire staff watched the vidfile of what she did back on Earth.” Lyrik kept his tone even, his expression composed. “She was put into stasis during a battle. You should have expected aggression when she was released.”
“We did anticipate her aggression. We just underestimated her abilities.”
That was as close to agreement as they were likely to come. Still something about the situation bothered Lyrik. He couldn’t remember the last time his father had been caught unprepared. “I’ll take the tray in to her, but I don’t want to leave her unattended for long.”
“I’ll send someone to you.”
“Thanks.” His father’s image blinked out and Lyrik sighed. He was scheduled to take the Tempest to Bilarri at week’s end. The Joint Council had been negotiating with the Bilarrians for the better part of a cycle. Any delay or complication could negate the fragile alliance, and Ontariese couldn’t afford to lose the cooperation of the Bilarrians. How was he supposed to weigh the wellbeing of one broken woman against the survival of his people?
He really didn’t need this aggravation.
Turning his attention back to the control console, he entered the code for Trey’s office. Director dar Aune wasn’t going to like what he was about to request. The screen displayed the emergency interrupt option. Trey was in a meeting. If Lyrik contacted Krysta directly, there would be hell to pay. He supposed that constituted an emergency.
“Interrupt.”
Trey responded to Lyrik’s page via audiocom. He’d probably stepped out of the conference room. Lyrik smiled. They’d made Trey Director of Covert Operations for a reason. The man was infallibly secretive.
“What’s going on?” Trey’s deep voice reached the console’s receiver.
“I need to borrow your life mate.”
“I beg your pardon!”
Lyrik laughed. “Not like that, you pervert, unless you’re willing of course.”
“Is there a reason you’re annoying me?”
When Trey lost his sense of humor, it usually meant one thing, the NRS. The sect’s fanaticism had escalated steadily since the refugees arrived from Earth. The leaders of the New Reformation Sect had repeatedly demanded that the Joint Council sterilize the “unnatural abominations” created by Operation Hydra. If the NRS learned Saebin had been released from stasis, there was no telling what they’d do.
“Saebin was released from stasis this morning and she’s called the ghost of the night moon out to play.” The screen flickered and Trey’s dumbfounded image materialized in front of Lyrik.
“When was this decided? What precautions were taken?”
“I heard about it when the overlord summoned me to DC3. Gauging from the number of guards currently in the infirmary, I’d say their precautions were practically nonexistent.”
Trey raked his hand through his multicolored hair then stepped away from the vidscreen. Lyrik heard the whoosh of the privacy panel then Trey returned. “This is unbelievable. Saebin took out Vee. Vee, for gods’ sake. Did they expect a cycle in stasis to make her docile?” He leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowed with menace. “What does this have to do with Krysta? Her control has increased considerably, but she’s no match for Saebin.”
“I need her knowledge of terminology and Dr. Hydran’s strategies. I’ll have her advise me, nothing more. She won’t go anywhere near Saebin.”
“As if either of us could keep her away.” Trey paused, his expression tense and thoughtful. “Don’t underestimate Krysta’s stubbornness. It’s gotten me into trouble more times than I care to remember.”
Lyrik accepted the suggestion with a nod and Trey ended the transmission. His consent was inferred if not spoken.
While Lyrik waited for Krysta, he took the meal tray in to Saebin. “You will eat and quietly wait for my return.” With her legs secured to the sturdy legs of the chair, there wasn’t much else she could do.
“Yes sir.”
Lyrik returned to the control booth and watched Saebin on the vidscreen. She stared at the tray, eating with speed and efficiency, never glancing to the left or right. How long had it taken her handlers to achieve this level of control? He shook his head, sickened by the suffering inferred by her surrender. The door slid open and Krysta joined him in the booth.
Krysta stared at the vidscreen in silent horror. Her wide, thick-lashed eyes blended purple and turquoise, a unique combination even on Ontariese. He looked at the pain in her gaze and the knot in his gut tightened. This must be heartrending for Krysta. She had known Saebin before the experiments, before the implants, before D-159.
“Tell me you have a plan.” She looked into his eyes, her gaze tear bright yet demanding.
“I have a plan.”
About the Author
Anything-but-Ordinary is Cyndi’s creed and her writing reflects her dedication to the concept. She writes in a variety of genres, but seems happiest in outer space. Her books have been nominated for numerous awards, and Taken by Storm was named Best Fanta
sy/Science Fiction Romance of the year by Romance Reviews Today.
She lives in Colorado with her high school sweetheart turned husband of many years. With a pampered cat curled on the corner of her desk, she dreams of fascinating words and larger than life adventures—and wouldn't have it any other way!
Website / Blog: http://www.cyndifriberg.com
Operation Hydra (Beyond Ontariese 2) Page 27
