by Imogene Nix
“Shit!” She rose even as the strapping fought to hold onto her. The ship pitched wildly, until she dropped back down into the seat.
The comm buzzed over the noise, and she reached for the button. “Levia? What’s going on? The readings for Baby Bird just went haywire.”
“Sandon, I have a bit of a problem. It was a rogue lightning strike. I need to patch into the neural network to see if I can pinpoint exactly what’s damaged, but…” She let her words trail away, aware that the damage could likely be irreparable.
“Damn it, Levia, get yourself back here in one piece.” His face carried the pinched white look she’d come to associate with concern.
“Just wait for me, okay, Sandon? I’ll be home soon.” She gave a laugh heavy with false bravado, and darkness filled the screen. “God knows, I want to come home.”
Digging around in her pouch, she found the neural interface and inserted it, glad that she’d taken the time to include the neural upgrade in this ship. The whole time her gaze watched the wildly fluctuating readouts, and she used one hand to keep the bird on its upward trajectory.
The moment she patched into the shuttle, she could see the problem. “Oh God!”
The hydraulic systems were working at a minimal fifteen percent and degrading quickly. Once they failed, there’d be no flying. To compound that, the fuel lines had also ruptured. The lightning strike had found the most vulnerable part of the craft.
A wail erupted from her throat. “Nooooo!”
Levia allowed for a moment of pity before she retracted the neural interface. There was no use now. The ship was doomed unless something somehow occurred to her.
She rubbed between her brows as pressure welled. Her mind careened, searching for ways to get through the layers of atmosphere, to salvage something from the situation. She was already too far to turn the craft, and the quick calculations in her mind had the systems dropping to thirteen percent.
The futility of her position was clear, and it froze her all the way to the marrow of her bones. Levia opened the comms. “Sandon? I’ve worked out what’s wrong. It’s the hydraulics. They’re… They’re compromised.”
He leaned forward in the viewscreen, and how she wanted to reach out, to touch him one last time. “You can fix it though? Hook in and—”
Levia shook her head. “No, Sandon. I already plugged in. The system is leaking fluid. I’m too high to turn back, and I don’t think…” The first tear dripped down her face. “I won’t make it through the final layer to escape gravity.”
She didn’t have the heart to share the knowledge of the fuel rupture. It was enough that he realized she was flying a dying bird so far from any possible assistance.
The ship wavered and she fought it, grunting out the words she needed to share. “I wish… If only it didn’t come to this. But you have the information. Go back to Kefla and…” Once more the ship lurched.
“Levia, just hang on.” His voice dropped an octave.
She wanted to, but the reality was, the end was closing in. A droplet of sweat rolled down her face and into her eye, mixing with the tears, making it almost impossible to see. She released one hand from the death grip she had on the controls long enough to dash the moisture away.
“I can’t. I’m going to turn off the screen in a minute, but I needed…” The sob locked in her throat, stopping air getting to her lungs. “I needed to say goodbye. To tell you… I love you, Sandon. I always will.”
His face had paled, but the fire in his eyes shone bright. “Don’t give up, Levia. Don’t give up on us. We’ll find a way…”
Voices echoed and Levia looked beyond him. Vestang watched over Sandon’s shoulder as did Jorgenstein.
She tried moving the controls, but the system barely moved now. Levia knew it was time to let him go. “Say goodbye, Sandon.”
“No—”
“Please.” Thick tears clogged her throat, and she willed him to understand.
“Don’t ask that of me. I’d do anything for you, Levia, but don’t ask that. Don’t ask me to give up and say goodbye.” He stretched his hand to her and how she wished they could touch, just one last time. She gazed into his face, twisted in the pain of their final parting.
She understood, feeling the tearing inside herself. The engine sputtered.
“I love you, Sandon. You’ll be in my heart until the end of time.” Then she reached out and disengaged the communicator with a sob.
The engines were now silent, as the fuel in the tanks was exhausted, and she accepted that this was it.
She tugged the straps closer, well aware of the futility of the act. “If I’m going out this way, then I’ll damn well look like a pilot.”
Levia braced for impact.
* * * *
“Do something!” Sandon snarled as the screen went black.
“But… What can we do?” Vestang’s shrill question ripped through him as memory after memory of their short time together swam through his beleaguered mind.
His glance around the helm settled on a small modification. There was a way to save her! The transmitter! The one she’d used to get him out of the security sector. What was that called? He frowned hard and the title instantaneous matter transmission came to him.
“Get the matter transmitter online now!”
Jorgenstein’s mouth dropped open. “But, sir, Pilot Endrado hasn’t trained us fully.”
He brushed aside the man’s words. “Don’t care. Get it online now. There has to be…”
Sandon paced as Jorgenstein took up location at the engineer’s station. “I have to input her data first.”
He hung back, heart in his throat as he watched the failing trajectory of the shuttle on the forward screens. “Come on.” The chant didn’t help. Not really.
“Captain? Will this work?” Vestang hovered over his shoulder, his eyes huge. “We can’t… She’s a good pilot. Surely…”
He jerked his head in a tiny shake. “No. The ship is dead.”
It was clear now that Levia meant more to him that just a pilot. He hadn’t told his crew in so many words, but they knew, and they would work miracles for him. If anyone could save her, it was his crew. He hoped like hell his crew was half as capable as he’d always thought they were.
Sandon swiveled back and watched as Jorgenstein swore and swiped a hand over his face.
“Arhhh!” The sound of success echoed, and Jorgenstein turned, hand outstretched. Sandon looked in the direction he indicated, and he saw her outline appearing before him, still strapped into her command seat, her face wet with tears and her grip white-knuckled.
“Levia!” He pounced, freeing her from the constraints of the seat then enfolding her in his grip.
“Sa… Sandon? How the hell?”
His heart pounded in his chest, and he fastened his lips over hers. To hell with the no fraternization rule. He needed her as badly as she likely needed him.
Her hands reached up, clasping him back, while he tasted her again. Thankful for the opportunity to hold her close once more.
When he pulled back, she sighed.
“Don’t ever do something crazy like that again!” The words slipped out, and she frowned.
“Like what?”
“Give up. I’m never letting you go now.”
A smile crept over her features, warming his frozen extremities. The ones he hadn’t even known were chilled.
* * * *
Levia hated this phase of planning a mission. On the screen ahead of her was the dossier she’d put together. Everything they’d gleaned since Mayerber joined the Dendarans.
It was sparse, unlike his file with the Jurans.
“Damn it, where’s the trigger?” She’d been closeted away for the last three hours reviewing the files without success. Frustration had become her new best friend, she thought, consciously unclenching her hand.
Not for the first time, she wondered what he remembered, if anything of his life before he’d become a Cybe. They didn’t li
ke them to go back and investigate what had happened to their families.
“His evals showed an incomplete memory retention.” They’d known that since early on. But they couldn’t be sure what the Dendarans had accomplished with him. “I wonder…” She tapped her finger against her lips as she slumped into the seat.
Once more, she brought up his medical records, searching for details of his psych paperwork.
“Nothing.” Levia pushed out of her seat again and resumed the loping pace she’d adopted while thinking over a problem.
She’d already investigated the manner in which he carried out his assignments. He’d been cold and ruthless. A single shot or broken necks were among his favored method. Close and personal or distant and clinical. It seemed to depend on the prey.
What had changed? She remembered the meeting with him on Omega V. Back when she hadn’t realized that he was Ordan Mayerber. When he was hiding under the assumed name of Michelin Andres.
The attack felt personal. He hadn’t wanted to kill her. Clearly, there was more anger to it at that point, almost as if he’d wanted to punish her.
“It wasn’t a hit. It was a need to hurt.” She whirled and headed back to the computer. Levia called up every shred of information she’d amassed. “I’m missing something. But what?”
Document after document scrolled past as she scanned, looking for something, some marker that would explain what had happened.
The seventh evaluation focused on the changes to his persona after the initial rounds of enhancements. She frowned. The oblique reference was too vague. “There has to be more.”
She whipped back to his recruitment documents, her eyes picking out one single term. Rehabilitation commensurate with incarceration.
“Rehabilitation…”
No one had ever spoken about his background. Hell, her mother barely even mentioned her biological father. Was there more? Something she hadn’t known?
With shaking fingers, she accessed the government database and tapped in his real name, the one that had been stripped from his memories and replaced with his new identity. Orton Endrado.
Classified.
She growled with frustration and entered her override password.
Unbreachable.
The door opened, and she looked up to see Sandon enter. “How are you…”
“Don’t ask. There’re more layers of encryption and passwords than I’ve ever seen before. And to make things worse, the file is marked unbreachable.” When Sandon smiled she frowned deeper. “What?”
“I have this friend—”
She leaned toward him. “What exactly do you mean, you have this friend?”
“Well, see, he can hack anything. I could contact him.” The grin on Sandon’s face grew.
“And?”
“He can probably get what you need.”
One heartbeat passed, then another. Could she ask him to call in this favor? For a moment she nearly said no, not wanting to draw him deeper into the dangerous web, then she reconsidered. He’d told her more than once that he was involved. That she needed to accept whatever help he could give. That he needed to do something for her.
The sting of pain as she bit her lip jolted her. “How safe would it be?”
Sandon’s smile fled. “I don’t know. But I’m guessing none of us are safe until Ordan is caught. You would agree with that assessment?”
She nodded, absently considering his words. “Yes. Do it.”
* * * *
The connection was scratchy, and for a moment, Sandon wondered exactly where Brandon was hiding out.
Levia hunched on the other side of the desk. “I can go if you want?”
“No, Levia, stay.” He linked hands with her and she smiled, the soft womanly smile that she’d only just discovered. It should probably be classified as a dangerous weapon. When she smiled at him, all soft and… He shifted in his seat, thankful she only shared that look with him. He released her hand then and drew away, and she slouched in the chair, ready to listen for any hints.
When Brandon’s face filled the screen, he looked haunted, or more accurately, hunted. “Geez… Do you realize the risk you’re taking, contacting me like this. We could both get—”
“Yeah. But I… We need your help. We need access to the files for Orton Endrado, which we believe was Ordan Mayerber’s real name.”
Brandon’s eyes took on a wide and wild look. “What? Are you trying to get us killed?”
Sandon realized for the first time that not only was Brandon terrified, he knew far more than he’d let on. “You know—”
“I read parts of his file before I sent it on to you.” His friend’s quick rebuttal concerned him.
“Why?”
“Well, if I’m dipping into files, it’s always wise to know what you’re hunting. You do realize the Jurans get a little funny when people go through their intel. I had to make sure… Besides, I saw his last training mission guide. The one he failed. He said he’d get them. Mayerber’s big on retribution.” Brandon stopped with a sour smile. Then he shook his head. “He’s not all there.”
“I need you to hack that other file.”
“No, I can’t. If he finds me…”
When Brandon swiped a hand over his face, burying his fingers into his hair and tugging, the anger inside Sandon’s gut roared into life. Brandon had known and hidden information from him.
“Brandon?”
“What did you expect? I’m in the middle of a mess I really wanted to avoid. You can fly off on your ship. I’m surface-bound. Tied to my mainframe. He could find me.”
“It’s not just your life in the balance, friend. It’s everyone. Me. Levia. Her family. The whole bloody Juran Commonwealth.”
Sandon’s hands flicked over the keyboard, and he sent Levia a private, hidden message. Can you trace him?
The cursor shone, blinking before the answer flashed up. Yes.
He’d have to trust that she knew exactly what he needed while he concentrated on the conversation.
“You don’t have a clue, Sandon. This is bigger than… Trust me. I can’t send you—”
The truth smashed into him. Somehow Brandon had met Mayerber. Sandon couldn’t understand why or how. “How? How did you meet him?”
The little color on Brandon’s face ebbed away. “Sandon… Don’t ask me that! You’ve no idea—”
Fury roared through him, hot and biting. “Damn it, Brandon, how could you?”
A defiant smile now appeared on the other man’s face. “Once he knew where the woman was, he found out about you and followed the dots to me. He threatened me, Sandon. I was protecting myself. And you.”
The greasy sensation in the pit of his belly doubled, and he was sure he’d be sick. “Brandon, we could have you—”
“No one can help me now. She’s a damned machine! A fucking Cybe! You and I both know they don’t feel anything. They don’t have emotions.”
His glance over the computer linked with Levia’s and she’d paled.
“You’re wrong, Brandon. Not all of them are like that.”
“She’s there? Listening? How could you?”
The screen blanked and he crashed both hands down on the tabletop, the urge to break something clawing at him.
“So…” Levia sighed.
“I just can’t believe he’d do that.” He lurched away from the table as Levia stood.
She slid her hands around his waist. “We’ll have to get to him before Mayerber does. He likes to deal with his loose ends once their usefulness has passed.”
He nodded at her words. “You got his location?”
“Oh yeah. But we’re going to have to move to beat Mayerber.”
Before he could ask where, she laid her fingers against his lips.
“My best guess is four days will get us there. But, not knowing Mayerber’s location?” She shrugged. “It’s likely he could beat us to it.”
Chapter 12
Levia tugged on her combat body su
it, grimacing as it tugged tight over her belly and thighs. “I forgot how tight it is.”
Sandon’s eyes glowed as his gaze roamed over her figure. “It’s perfect.” The wolfish words made her smile. Until she remembered why she was donning it.
“Maybe you should get your own on, rather than leering, mister sex maniac.” She smiled a little to soften her words.
As he started stripping his clothes, his eyes shone and she turned away, aware there was no more time for now. Maybe not ever again. Levia curled her hand into a tight fist at that thought.
For four days, Levia had split her time between preparations for the showdown she was sure lay just over the horizon, and setting contingency plans in place. Preparing for the worst. Doing things she didn’t talk to Sandon about.
If she died, well, she wanted to be sure he was protected, at all costs. Her will was sparse. Everything she had would go to Sandon. So long as she could protect him and get him out of there alive. The thought, as always, soured her stomach.
They’d entered orbit above Antares, named for some long distant star. Her steel-trap mind seized upon the knowledge and she sighed, steering her thoughts back to what lay before her.
This was the planet they’d tracked Sandon’s friend, Brandon, to. As they neared the small planet, she calmed her frenetic pace, letting herself examine the plan she’d cobbled together. As the Echo entered orbit, Sandon called the crew together to prepare them.
“As many of you know, in the last few months, we were joined by Levia Endrado. Also, as you’ve probably guessed—yes, we are together as a couple. What you don’t know is that Levia used to be…” He seemed lost for words, and she took pity on him. For all his planning, it was still hard to share exactly what she was.
“I’m a BioCybe. Sandon and some of the crew have been aware of that for some time. However, it’s also been the impetus for our detour here.”
Murmurs rippled through the crew. Not everyone was happy that they’d been kept in the dark, and she could understand that. Hell, she’d be annoyed and feeling betrayed as well. Raising her hand, she looked out over the assembled crewmembers.
