by Cathryn Cade
As she flew, her mind raced. Blood ... there'd been blood. Was it Ilya's, VX's, or someone else? Was Ilya not his first victim of the day?
“Bek!” she shrieked into a new link. “Mondas' quarters—now! Bring weapons.”
She blasted through the hatch to the owner's private quarters, and shot across the palatial sitting room to the open doorway of the bedchamber. Here she halted so swiftly the chair tipped up under her to balance the sudden stop, then settled level with the couple against the wall.
In another situation, she would have blushed and found somewhere else to look. Ilya Mondas was stark naked. VX was clothed, but he held her arms above her head, one huge hand gripping both her wrists. And from the position of his hips in the cradle of her bare thighs, it appeared they were engaged in coitus.
But it was his other hand which must concern Playa now. It was wrapped around the small blonde's throat, so tightly her face was congested with blood, her bloodshot eyes bulging. The blood dripping from VX himself was his own. He hadn't cut Ilya—he was strangling her to death.
And below his cerametal mask his face was drawn in a grimace, a low rumble of killing rage rumbling from his mighty chest.
Playa couldn't wait for Bek, or anyone else to save Ilya—she had to do it herself.
“Merde,” she whispered. “Here goes everything.”
She was gonna lose her job and all the cred she'd worked so hard to build here. This thought lanced through her mind with painful clarity. Then it was gone as she did what she had been born to do, what she'd hidden since she arrived at the Pleasure Palace and begun a new life, a safe one.
Control others with the power of her mind.
She was inside the cyborg's head in a few secs. But then she was faced with a strange wall. Another Indigon's power already held the 'borgs consciousness—Annar Blu, it had to be.
She focused harder. Could she even do this? As Ilya's wheezes for breath changed to a horrible rattle in her chest, panic built in Playa's own chest. Had she held her psychic abilities in check too long, until they were slack as her unexercised lower body?
Yes, she could do this—she had to. But it was like delving into a package that was wrapped tightly in layer upon layer of protective coating. Blu had used his powers to create the wrapping, and it was the strongest she'd ever encountered.
Ilya Mondas made that terrible sound again, fainter this time.
Playa focused with all her psychic strength. It didn't matter how strong the wrappings Blu had created—she must do this, or Ilya Mondas would die, here and now. From the feebleness of her struggles, she was close to death.
And the 'borg could snap her neck like a twig if he decided to accelerate.
Closing her eyes to shut out the sight of the couple, Playa raced around the perimeter of the package in VX's mind. And then she found it—Blu had left an opening in the guard, so he could get into the 'borg's mind whenever he chose. And Blu had been there only seconds ago—was still close.
This couldn't matter to her now. Playa dove into the narrow passageway like a bird arrowing into a cave. Inside, to her astonishment, she found VX's mind. For an instant, she forgot her task, gaping around her in sheer, dumb-founded awe. She'd assumed that the cyborgs’ minds must be so badly compromised by their adaptations that they were forever inhuman. But this wasn't true.
VX's mind was whole, it was simply trapped by a small, cybernetic device Blu had implanted near the cerebellum. And then used his power to activate.
And she could deactivate it.
'No!' The negation hissed through her mind like an arrow of ice. Playa froze—Blu hadn't gone, he was still here. To save Ilya and VX, she'd have to overcome his wards and him, at the same time.
Then she gave a half-laugh, half-sob. Because wasn't this precisely why she was here, hiding out on the Pleasure Palace? She could still hear their chilly, precise words of the council, 'Improper use of powers, resulting in the deaths of two Indigons. Whether premeditated or accidental, it cannot go unpunished. For this terrible act, you, Playa Grey, are hereby forbidden from using your powers again on this planet, and in Alliance Territory. You will present yourself to the University Clinic immediately for a governing device.'
Only she'd escaped from the hospital before they could implant the device, which would have rendered her essentially lobotomized. Oh, yes, she was plenty strong enough to do this ... the only question was, could she do it and not kill VX and Blu in the process?
'Get out!' Blu commanded, stabbing at her again with his cold. 'This 'borg is in my charge. You do not belong here. Don't make me destroy your powers.'
Okay, time to play the 'helpless female' holocard.
Playa faced him psychically. 'Dr. Blu! Oh, thank God you're here. VX is in terrible trouble. We must save him before he commits murder. Help me.'
As she spoke, she gathered more power.
“Get out,” Blu repeated. “You've no business here, this cyborg is mine.” He sent psychic ice sheeting between her and VX's consciousness.
Playa fell back and the doctor's triumph flared.
“Oh, I'm sure you don't mean that,” she said, trying her best to sound bewildered. “Mondas is troublesome, but we must save her. And VX—they'll execute him—so horrible. Let me help you save him.”
“Save him? From what—this stupid, interfering woman, Ilya Mondas? Let him kill her.”
He wasn't going to cooperate. Fine, if he wasn't hiding his intent, neither would she.
Dropping all pretense, Playa focused all her power at the icy shield, shuddering at the terrible intimacy. Gah, she'd forgotten how much she hated this part of using her powers. It was as if she was reaching out and sliding her mind over Blu's, something she did not want to do. But her heat continued to build, and triumph began to unfurl like wings inside her.
“No,” Blu's power stabbed at her, then VX as he strove to control them both. “What are you doing, you little fool? Get out of here—you blundering idiot! You'll undo all my work.”
So much for subtlety. “I certainly hope so,” she replied.
She could do this—she was doing this. She pictured her power like wings beating in a current of mighty and just deliverance, a hot wind gusting away the cold strangle-hold of Blu's chilly grasp on VX's will, fanning ever faster until warmth flowed from her into VX.
This time Blu tumbled backward, his psychic essence blown out of VX's mind like snowflakes before a desert sirocco. Playa focused more heat, and the bands of Blu's shield on VX's cybernetics snapped with a suddenness that sent her reeling, tumbling backward in psychic space, propelled by the bellow exploding from the depths of VX's psyche.
And from his throat, she realized. Her eyes snapped open just as VX arched backward, his hands splaying wide, huge body shuddering in reaction.
His victim sucked in a faltering gasp, and then collapsed onto his chest, as limp as a corpse.
Playa watched through a wash of tears as the huge borg dropped to his knees, holding his erstwhile victim in one arm, the other hand braced on the wall to hold himself upright. He was sucking in huge breaths, groaning between each one like a wounded beast—which in essence he was.
The door slid open, and Bek was there in battle-ready stance, crouched with a laser sweeping the room. He aimed it at VX's head. “Release the female, borg, or I'll shoot to kill!”
'What have you done?' Annar Blu hissed in Playa's mind. 'You fool. You've ruined us both!'
“Oh, shut it.” Playa swatted him away in one final burst of her powers, and he was gone.
“No,” she called aloud to Bek. “Wait. Don't shoot—he didn't mean to harm her. Blu was making him do it.”
“Is she alive?” Bek demanded, eyeing Ilya Mondas.
Having already revealed herself, Playa instinctively reached to divine the other woman's consciousness. “Yes,” she said. “But she's badly injured. She needs regen at once.”
VX clambered to his feet, Ilya Mondas' limp body in his arms like a sacrifice. He turned to
ward Playa, and his gaze found hers like a homing device. His broad, angular face curled into a snarl of pure rage.
He started toward her.
“Oh, no,” she whispered, realization slamming into her like a punch from one of the 'borg's huge fist. The barriers hadn’t been to keep others out--they’d been to keep VX in.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
In VX and the other cyborgs, Blu had created giant weapons that only he could aim.
Now this weapon was loosed, ready to kill the nearest target. And his huge strides were bringing him across the room toward her in a few secs.
“Halt!” Bek roared, moving between VX and Playa, laser weapon aimed directly at the cyborg's head. “Move one more step and I'll shoot.”
Playa focused her power on the cyborg again. 'VX,' she said silently, gliding into his mind on her warm wings. 'You are free now. You do not need to destroy me, or anyone else just now. You are safe, you are calm.'
He stood there, a huge, naked man exuding sex and violence, gleaming with sweat, his harsh breathing like a bellows, and bearing Ilya Mondas like a prize of battle. Ignoring Bek and the deadly weapon aimed at him.
“Feel the calm,” Playa murmured to him, her voice trembling only a little as she faced him with every bit of courage she possessed. “Feel your freedom. You are in control of yourself now. You decide what will happen.”
He opened his mouth, and scowled down at her. Using as much power as she dared on him, Playa held her breath.
“I ... control?” he rumbled. “Not Blu?”
“This weapon says different,” Bek retorted.
“Yes,” Playa breathed, ignoring the guard captain to focus on VX. “You control yourself now. And you can help her.” She nodded toward Ilya, who lay with her head on his chest, arm dangling limply. “She needs your help, VX. She needs a medtech. She's badly injured.”
VX looked down at his burden, voicing a rumble that was more like a keen of regret.
“It's all right,” Playa said quickly. “She'll be all right.” God, she hoped so. He might very well have crushed the woman's throat, or she might have brain damage from lack of oxygen.
“We need to get a medtech up here,” she went on. “She must be seen to.”
“Bring them,” he commanded. “Now.”
“Stitch is waiting outside,” Bek answered. “So how about you put her on the bed, and stand back, so he can see to her.”
“I ... watch her.” Turning away, he carried Ilya to the huge bed.
The only medtech on the station that Playa trusted, a short, stocky Occulan with mottled sandy skin and eight eyestalks waving over his head, glided into the room on one of the hoverplats used to get quickly to injured patients, with a medkit floating at his side. “How many patients do I have here?” he asked in his gravelly voice. “Looks like there's been a battle.”
“There has,” Playa said, suddenly exhausted and sick. She let her head fall back against the head rest of her chair.
“Are you okay?” Bek demanded, looking at Playa over his shoulder. “You don't look good. What just happened here?”
“I'm fine,” Playa said, avoiding his gaze. “Just see about them.”
Only she wasn't fine. She'd just acted out a sequence from her nightmares. She'd exposed her powers ... soon everyone herewould know what she was. And it wouldn't be long until they discovered who she was.
But she'd saved a life, she reminded herself. Two lives. That was important now, not her.
“VX,” Stitch was saying from by the bed. “You have to let me see to her.”
Playa glided nearer. VX had laid Ilya Mondas out carefully and covered her to her shoulders with a flap of the duvet. Now he leaned like a stricken monolith over the bed, supporting himself with one hand braced on the bed, the other on her chest, while the medtech hovered behind him.
“Her heart still beats,” he muttered, “But hurts her ... to breathe—I can feel this.”
He groaned, deep in his chest. “I did this. I hurt her. I would have—”
“But you didn't,” Playa told him, forgetting her own troubles. She glided closer, until her chair nudged the bed and his bare thigh. “She will recover ... and so will you—if you let Stitch help her.”
He cut his gaze to her. “He won't hurt her? You swear this?”
Playa quailed before that fierce, warrior's gaze. “Yes. I trust Stitch—so does Bek.”
“No!” he roared, shoving her chair back, and moving between her and Ilya, fists clenched. “None of them will touch her.”
Playa grasped the controls of her chair, righting it just before she tipped out onto the carpet. “I trust this one,” she repeated, holding out a hand to stay him. “He'll help you both.”
“No. They are all his. Dr. Blu's. He pays them not to see, not to tell.”
Oh, God. Just as she and Bek had suspected. The 'borgs were being injured horribly, if this powerful, enhanced man complained of it. And Blu had been lying to Bek and to her all along, telling them the blood was mostly theatrics. They'd chosen to believe him, because it was easier.
But that didn't matter now—they had to save Ilya Mondas. “Not this one,” Playa repeated. Oh, God, she hadn't the strength left right now to calm him again. “Stitch is different, I swear it. He wants to help, not hurt.”
VX made a rumbling sound in his chest, his mighty fists clenching and unclenching.
“Whoa, big fella,” said Stitch in his gravelly voice. “Not here to touch you. Just want to see to the lady there.”
“I don't know you. You don't touch her,” VX rumbled. “Try and I'll tear you apart.”
“Okay, okay,” Stitch soothed. “I know you don't know me, 'cause Blu never let me near you guys. But I'm a healer, I swear it.”
“Playa, get back,” Bek ordered.
Playa glided backward until she was between the two men. She shook her head when she saw the weapon in Bek's hand.
“Don't shoot him,” she pleaded. “He didn't mean to hurt her.”
“I won't,” Bek muttered. “Gonna let Stitch do that.”
Playa turned her head just in time to see the medtech aim a tranqgun at VX. Stitch pressed a trigger, and a surge of plasma light struck the cyborg on one side of his broad, bare chest.
“No,” VX croaked, swaying. “Must protect ...”
Then he listed to one side. Stitch gave him a push so he landed on face down on the bed, not the floor. The airbed swayed and shook under him, then stilled, the cyborg facedown at Ilya's feet, one foot dangling to the floor.
“He was just trying to protect her,” Playa murmured, shocked to find her throat thick with tears.
“Really? After he nearly murdered her?” Bek snapped, passing her on his way to the bed. “Stitch, you need assistance with her?”
Stitch was already leaning over Ilya Mondas. “No, thanks. Got it. Oxygen and then I'll assess.” He placed a small oxycone carefully over the small blonde's face. Playa watched, hardly breathing. “All right,” the tech said after several very long secs. “She's alive. She'll make it.
“Oh, thank God.” Playa sagged against the high back of her chair, her relief so intense she couldn't hold her head up.
“No thanks to this big bastard,” Bek said, looking down at VX, sprawled across the foot of the huge bed, one arm dangling toward the carpet.
Playa sighed. “It was Blu. He was controlling VX, making him do it. All of it.”
“Right, like you can see into his mind.” Bek stood over the cyborg, reaching for the soft restraints on his belt.
Nausea rolled through her, followed by thick, painful grief. Playa swallowed, hard, and zipped around the corner of the big bed to face him, her jaw set.
“As a matter of fact, I can,” she told him. “And if you try to restrain him, I'll demonstrate. He needs medical assistance, not restraints.”
Bek stared at her as if she'd morphed into some other life form. “You? You can hold him.”
“You two wanna stop wrangling and keep quiet?
” Stitch turned four of his eyestalks their way. “I need to concentrate. Bek, the 'borg isn't gonna be moving any time soon. I've seen the other techs tranq these guys before. Sometimes first blood makes 'em go berserker in the ring, start trying to kill everyone in sight. These tranqs are strong enough to take down five normal males. Also, I'll point out this poor guy's half-rezzed with pain. Someone's torn open his back with a heavy lash—that's where all the blood's coming from. They didn't treat it, and they didn't give him any gesics.”
“Someone whipped him?” Bek scanned VX's back with new intensity. “Hells, you're right, he's torn up—didn't see it because of his black shirt. Sweet mother of all, who'd be able to hold him to do this?”
“His fellow 'borgs, at a guess,” Stitch muttered.
“Maybe he went rezzed and they were trying to stop him,” Bek muttered, but the look on his face said he didn't believe his own theory. That would have meant blows to his face, his chest, not lacerations to his back.
“This was a punishment,” Playa said quietly, watching as Stitch moved his instruments wand over Ilya Mondas' head and throat. “The situation is worse than we suspected. Dr. Blu views the cyborgs as his property—he's been doing whatever he likes with them. He was forcing VX to harm Ilya Mondas.”
“You seriously don't think VX wanted to hurt her?” Bek looked dubious. “Playa, I've seen these guys in the ring—they're ferocious killers.”
“Because they're forced to be,” Playa insisted, tears welling again. “He—he feels a connection with her—I've seen it. So have you, Bek.”
“Well ... kinda thought so. Until this. You say Blu was using his, ah, Indigon powers on VX?”
Playa nodded, then forced herself to hold Bek's gaze, knowing what was coming next. Dread hung on her like a shroud.
“You're Indigon too.” His gaze tracked her face, hair and eyes. “Guess I knew that, just never ... So, can you—?”
“Do what Blu can do?” she finished, her voice as flat as her spirits. “Yes. And I learned just now that I'm stronger than he is. I made him stop forcing VX, and I routed him from VX's mind.”
