Mystic

by Cheryl Brooks

  “And the most disappointed,” Val added.

  “Too bad my sister isn’t here,” Aidan said. “She could tell you who was lying and who was really weirded out by seeing you, no matter what they say.”

  “Aidan, sweetheart,” she began. “All we need is for you to shake hands with anyone we suspect. You’ll get some sort of vibe from them, wouldn’t you?”

  “I hadn’t thought of that.”

  The dumb blond is back.

  No. Not dumb, just drugged.

  Yeah, by the birth control implant from the one woman in the universe I want to make love with. The only woman I’ve ever made love with.

  Such a dilemma.

  He sighed. “You’re right. Since they won’t be able to track us, we can get close enough to do it without anyone knowing we’re coming.”

  “Shall I remove it now?” Val asked. “I must advise you that removal probably hurts more than insertion.”

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  Aidan gazed into the dark-brown depths of her eyes with every ounce of pleading he could pack into his expression. “Please don’t even think about the other option.”

  “Abstinence, you mean? I probably should.” A feather-like caress of his cheek conveyed her regret. “You’re kinda hard to resist, though.”

  He certainly couldn’t resist her. In fact, if Val and Giklor would get lost, he would be kissing her right that very moment.

  “There are other ways to show affection without risking conception.” A sidelong glance proved that pearl of wisdom had come from Giklor. “Shall I enumerate them?”

  “Thanks, but that won’t be necessary,” Aidan drawled. “I’m pretty sure I know them all.”

  Giklor wheezed with laughter. “Oh, I doubt that. You’ve only been intimate the one time. I cannot imagine that you demonstrated any significant creativity.”

  “Don’t worry, Giklor,” Sula said. “Anything he doesn’t know, I probably do.” She glanced at Aidan, her eyes brimming with mischief. “I’ve been studying the Kama Sutra since I was in junior high.”

  * * *

  Sula wouldn’t have thought a winged computer hacker would’ve possessed any surgical skills, but after only a few minutes in sick bay, Val was able to remove the implant with minimal blood loss and very little pain.

  “You missed your calling,” she said as he repaired the wound with the Seal ’n’ Heal that Curly had advised them to use. At a glance, the ship’s medical supplies appeared to be fairly comprehensive. Considering the box of cast kits on the shelf beside the Seal ’n’ Heal, most broken bones wouldn’t pose too much of a problem.

  “It is a minor procedure.” Val held up the implant with a pair of tweezers, his gaze roving over its length. “Learning more about these nanobots will require expertise of a different sort.”

  “Are you sure they’re all in there?”

  “I will scan you again to be certain, but I believe them to have imbedded themselves in the outer surface of the implant. Any remaining bots loose in your body should be eliminated via the natural excretory process.”

  The sooner that happened, the better. “Have you ever heard of nanobots acting the way these do?”

  “Only those that are used in medicine to seek out abnormal tissues and repair or destroy them. Trackers of this type sometimes attach to bone, but even then, they are not permanent. I have no idea why attaching themselves to a birth control device would have extended their lifespan, unless these are an entirely new breed.”

  She pulled her sleeve down over the nearly healed wound. “You’re forgetting who sent me to Ecos. Dalb University is home to scads of scientific research projects. It’s frightening to think how the data they’ve amassed there could be subverted.”

  “I am well aware of such subversion,” he said quietly. “I was created from it.”

  Not born, not cloned, but created. She didn’t know how to respond. Should she praise his creator’s inventiveness or condemn the illegal use of the cloning process? “It’s nice to know something good can come from a misuse of technology.”

  “Good?” His crystalline eyes met hers with a glare that would’ve made her take a step back if she’d been standing. “I have yet to decide whether my existence constitutes good or evil.”

  She studied his handsome face, his powerful form, and most of all, his astonishing wings. Granted, he wasn’t entirely human, but as a humanoid male capable of flight, he was perfection itself.

  He resumed his visual inspection of the implant, giving her a much-needed respite from his unnerving gaze. “Perhaps malevolence is imbedded in me, much as these bots have imbedded themselves in this device, and is only awaiting the right trigger to manifest itself.”

  “I doubt that. From my perspective, I see only good in you.” Sadness might’ve clung to him like a damp cloak, but no veil of evil shrouded him from the light. “Has Aidan seen your future?”

  His lips twitched in what was almost a smile. “All he would say was that it’s better than most.” With another smile that never completely materialized, he added, “He only told me that last night.”

  “He seems to be fairly reliable in that respect,” she said. “You might want to let that sink in for a while.”

  He shook his head. “My past still haunts me. I have difficulty seeing beyond it.”

  “You aren’t alone in that.” Sula had come dangerously close to allowing her past tragedies to eliminate the possibility of a brighter future. She knew better now. “We all need to remember to focus on the present and not let our ghosts and fears rule us.”

  “So much wisdom in one so young.”

  “I’m not that young,” she protested. Val, on the other hand, seemed almost ageless. “How old are you?” The words were out before she could catch them.

  “I’ve never been quite sure,” he replied. “I had not reached full adulthood when I was freed from my”—his hesitation suggested he was about to say creator but thought better of it—“captor.”

  “And you’ve been free for how long?”

  A blink momentarily shielded her from his disturbing stare. “Twenty-one standard years.”

  That much, he seemed to know without doubt. “Okay. Let’s say you were fifteen then. That would make you about thirty-six.” When he received this estimate without any reaction, she went on, “Do you even have a birthday to celebrate?”

  Something in his manner made her wonder if anyone had ever asked him these simple questions about himself. However, he didn’t appear to resent the intrusion. “I was assigned a birthdate when I arrived on Rhylos. It was determined by a similar calculation.”

  Heat flooded her face. “You should’ve stopped me sooner.”

  “If you had been incorrect, I would have.”

  A tiny laugh escaped her. “I was always good at math.”

  “You are good at other things as well. Despite his peculiar reaction to the medication in your birth control device, I’ve never known Aidan to be happier than he is now. I believe he would have continued to suffer the symptoms quite cheerfully knowing that the only way to recover completely was to give you up.”

  Val obviously hadn’t missed Aidan’s aversion to the very idea of abstinence.

  “He won’t have to give me up,” she said. “Conceiving his children is a risk I’m willing to take. You might even say I’m looking forward to it.”

  “As long as our mission is successful,” he cautioned. “If you were to abandon this quest simply to become a mother, you would not be the woman I suspect you of being.”

  “You’re right. I’ve come too far to stop now. Although I don’t believe our mission and my relationship with Aidan are mutually exclusive.”

  “One will follow the other, which is just as it should be,” Giklor said as he entered the room. “Our friend Aidan is already improving.” The little Zerka
n shook his head as he heaved a sigh. “These Zetithians…they seem capable of recovering from almost anything.”

  Sula smiled. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were unhappy about that.”

  Giklor waved his hands in protest. “Oh no. Although they do require treatment on occasion, the severity of injury or illness when they arrive at that point is too dreadful to contemplate. I would not wish such grievous bodily harm upon any of them.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.” She looked up at Val, who was still peering at the implant as though it contained the secrets of the universe. “Are you going to scan me again now?”

  “Yes. This will only take a moment.” He dropped the implant into an open specimen jar and then screwed on the lid. After several slow passes of the scanner over her body, he switched it off. “I see no evidence of any residual bots.”

  “That’s a relief,” she said. “I’m glad you brought that thing with you. Although considering the amount of medical supplies on board, Curly probably has one stashed around here somewhere.”

  “If he does, I doubt he’s ever used it. Most of these items don’t appear to have been touched for quite some time.” To illustrate, he held up a dusty finger after sweeping it over the top of the specimen jar. “These jars were sealed, or using them would not be advisable.”

  “Any idea whether the bots will continue to function without a host?”

  “No,” he replied. “In fact, it would be best if they don’t. Their potential use as a decoy is outweighed by our ability to land on Ursa Prime without our enemy’s knowledge.”

  She hopped up from her chair feeling a peculiar sense of freedom knowing that she could no longer be tracked. “Considering all the trouble they’ve caused, I’d still like to space them.”

  “I can’t blame you for that.” Val wiped the tweezers and scalpel with a disinfectant swab before returning them to a nearby drawer. “No doubt our captain will have some suggestions for their disposal. For now, however, I believe the stasis unit would be the best place for them.”

  Giklor was still lurking near the doorway. “Speaking of the stasis unit…”

  “Yes?” Sula replied. “Did you need something?”

  “Ah, yes,” he replied. “You see, I find myself in a dilemma of sorts.”

  Somewhat taken aback, Sula eyed him curiously. “Which is?”

  Giklor bowed his head and clasped his hands in front of him. “I don’t know how to find the stasis unit. I would greatly appreciate it if you would be so kind as to help me locate it. I would have asked Captain Curly, but I haven’t been able to find him, either.”

  “Why didn’t you ask Jetoc?” Sula asked. “They can’t both be off duty.”

  Giklor shuffled his feet, still looking toward the floor. “If you must know, I am afraid of Drells.” A grimace gave Giklor’s mouth a peculiar triangular shape. “They look like a Zerkan with hair.” He shuddered. “We Zerkans find such copious amounts of hair very disturbing on any creature.”

  “I understand.” Given how hard it was to keep herself from laughing, Sula thought if she were to look at Val, she might actually catch him smiling. “I can help you find the stasis unit—or perhaps Val could show you. But right now, I need to talk to Curly myself.” She started toward the door, then stopped as another alternative occurred to her. “Wait a second. Why didn’t you just ask the computer where the stasis unit was?”

  “I forgot I could do that,” Giklor said meekly.

  This seemed unlikely, unless—“Do you mean to say you’ve never been on a starship before?”

  “To be perfectly honest, I haven’t,” Giklor said. “I was born on Rhylos, and thus far, I have found space travel to be almost as unnerving as the Drell’s hair. However, I shall now ask—what is the computer’s name?”

  “I am called Laurel, and I will be happy to direct you to the stasis unit,” a feminine voice replied from above, her aggrieved tone suggesting she should’ve been Giklor’s first choice rather than his last resort.

  “Thank you, Laurel,” Sula said. “While you’re at it, can you also give me Curly’s current location?”

  “Certainly,” Laurel replied. “He is in the ready room with Qinta.”

  “With Qinta?” That sounded odd. “Can you tell me what they’re doing?”

  “As a rule, Captain Curly doesn’t wish to have his actions questioned, nor does he wish to be disturbed at this time.” Laurel sounded rather prim. “However, Qinta has given me no such instruction.”

  “Okay, then. What’s Qinta doing?”

  “She is engaged in a form of entertainment with the captain.”

  “Entertainment?” Sula’s heart skipped several beats as she imagined the various activities a computer might classify in that manner. Anything from watching old movies to—Oh, surely not. “Can you direct me to the ready room?”

  “Certainly,” the computer replied. “Follow the flashing green lights on the passageway floor.”

  “Got it.” Sula took off running, and within a short time, the lights had brought her to a door, which, of course, was closed. “Laurel, are you sure Curly doesn’t want to be disturbed?”

  “Quite sure.”

  It worked before; therefore, it was worth a try now. “Would you ask Qinta if I could speak with her?”

  “I believe that would be possible.”

  “Do it.”

  The light above the door illuminated. “What’s up?” Qinta asked over the intercom.

  “Can I come in?”

  “Sure, why not?” Qinta’s tone was innocent enough to have dispelled any concerns, but Sula still felt it was her responsibility to be sure.

  As the door slid open, Curly spun around in his chair, game controller in hand and fangs bared. “If you make me lose this match, as the gods are my witness, I’m gonna charge you double.”

  Chapter 23

  “Didn’t realize you were charging us anything,” Sula said. “I figured this was an avenging-the-innocent-victims-free-of-charge sort of mission.”

  “Hey, even the good guys have to get paid now and then,” Curly said with a shrug. “Was there something you needed me for?”

  “Yes,” Sula replied. “But that can wait. Right now, I need to be sure you really are one of the good guys.”

  “No worries there. I’m getting my ass kicked.” With a nod toward Qinta, he added, “She’s a pretty tough opponent.” He arched a brow. “Why the inquisition?”

  Sula did her best to keep her voice level. “You close the door and tell the computer not to let anyone disturb you while you play video games with a teenage girl, and you wonder why I’m asking questions?”

  For a long moment, the only thing he did was gape at her. “I just didn’t want any distractions.”

  “We’re cool,” Qinta said. “I’m the one who challenged him.” Her sly glance slid toward Curly. “So far, it hasn’t been much of a contest.”

  “That’s part of my strategy,” Curly insisted. “Lulling you into a false sense of security.”

  Qinta rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right. Admit it. I’m better at Super Starburst Football Adventure than you ever dreamed of being.”

  Curly tossed his controller onto the coffee table and threw up his hands. “Have it your way. It’s a kid’s game anyhow.”

  “Look, Curly, I’m sorry for doubting you,” Sula said. “But you must admit it seemed a little…suspicious.”

  “Maybe,” he admitted. “For anyone but a Zetithian. If you know anything at all about us, you should know that taking advantage of women—young or old—is completely against our nature.”

  Sula exhaled sharply. “Sorry. I should’ve realized that.”

  “Apology accepted.” Curly jumped up from his chair and started toward the door. “Guess I’ll head on back to the bridge. Feel free to play as long as you like.”

&
nbsp; “Will do,” Qinta said, sounding a touch more smug than was polite.

  Without another word, he shouldered his way past Sula and strode off down the corridor.

  “Mind telling me what that was all about?” Sula asked.

  “It wasn’t about anything,” the Treslanti girl replied. “I just thought he’d be a fun opponent.” She frowned. “He got really competitive and defensive, though. I figured a Zetithian would be a better sport.” After switching off the game console, she fell back in her chair with a heavy sigh. “Aidan and Onca aren’t like that. Why does Curly have to be an asshole just like every other man I’ve ever known?”

  “Asshole?” Sula echoed. “That’s a little strong, don’t you think?”

  “Maybe.”

  Qinta sounded like a typical sulky teen, a behavior Sula hadn’t noticed in her before. Was she developing a crush on the dashing pilot? Or was there more to her mood than teenage angst?

  “I keep telling myself that all men aren’t like my father, but—” She broke off with a shrug. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll get over it. Someday.”

  Sula sat down in the seat Curly had vacated. “You want to talk about it?”

  “Not really. Talking never helps anyway. I figured that out a long time ago.”

  “What exactly do you want from Curly?”

  Qinta picked at the hem of her shirt. “I dunno. Just wanted to see if we could be friends, I guess.”

  Even though Sula didn’t know her well, Qinta had always seemed tough and streetwise, but deep down, she was still an insecure teenager. And if Sula read the clues correctly, she’d suffered some form of abuse—mental, physical, or both—her father being the most likely culprit.

  “I don’t think being friends is too much to expect,” Sula said. “Even if he is a little on the cocky side. According to Aidan, he’s more like his Terran mother than his Zetithian father. I’m guessing she isn’t one to lose gracefully, either.”

  “I’ve heard about his mother. She must really be something.”

  Never having met Jack, Sula couldn’t say for certain. “Speaking of mothers, would you rather I stopped acting like one?”