Syn-En: Registration

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Syn-En: Registration Page 5

by Linda Andrews


  Twitching his stomach muscles, Groat moved his claws behind his back. He hated the damn things, wished they’d been removed with the new models.

  Yet, the Municians demanded claws be standard issue for every suit.

  Stupid nuisance. Both of them. Groat stopped on the Amarook rug, rested his foot on the raised head. “I’m talking about keeping the new Humans, mixing them with the diggers.”

  Mopus waved away his concerns like dust in the air. “The improvements in labor will raise our profits. And higher profits mean bigger bonuses. Besides, you’d just destroy them. It’s what you’re good at.”

  Groat stiffened. Insulting him in his own office. “I just want it noted, that I object to their integration. They are more machine than man. And machines can’t be trusted.”

  “You worry too much. These are not sophisticated technology, but crude Earth-based machines. I’m surprised they can even walk.” Mopus pursed his lips. “Now, if there isn’t anything else, I wish to observe how our little profit makers adapt to their new programming.”

  The Munician didn’t wait for a response but glided over the floor and out the door.

  Pausing by his desk, Groat tapped on his holographic keyboard and stopped the recording. If the machines malfunctioned and harmed the diggers, Mopus would pay for it out of his bonus and Groat would get to test his new armor.

  Chapter 6

  “Alright, diggers, get your worthless carcasses out of here.”

  Bei jolted awake at the gravelly voice. His ears popped from the change in pressure. Around him, people staggered to their feet. The whirl of ship’s nacelles filled the cramped room. The air reeked of dirt, blood and sweat.

  And desperation.

  Something wasn’t right. He scanned the cluster of people packed into the space, looking for…someone.

  Scraped hands pushed oily hair out of smudged faces. Young children clung to the ragged hems of older people. Dirt settled in wrinkled flesh, aging men and women, amplifying the terror on the boys’ and girls’ faces.

  “Up, I say.”

  A whip snapped in the air over Bei. A pop of electricity exploded over his head, raised the hair on his arm.

  The dozen or so people around him cringed.

  Charged whips. Inhuman overseers. Bei followed the black lash to its wielder. Red, segmented armor cut the man’s six limbs into joints. Spherical eyes protruded from under its helmet, and mandibles opened and closed like folding doors over sharp teeth.

  The overseer wasn’t Human, but a Scraptor.

  The word surfaced from deep in Bei’s subconscious. He knew the thing, knew he should fear it, and yet… Yet, he refused to cower before it. Was he tired of bowing before the ugly bug-like ET, or was it something else?

  “You deaf?” The Scraptor lashed out again. This time, he hit Bei.

  Bei jumped as the electrified strap connected, slashed his shirt sleeve. His body shook, but the pain… There was no pain. In fact, he felt better than before, not as run down. How could this be? He covered his flesh with his hand to stem the blood.

  “Get!” Bug-ugly raised the whip again.

  The other human prisoners pushed forward, crowding the exit.

  The hair on Bei’s neck stood up. Someone was watching. Rising off the metal deck, he glanced around him. Bars surrounded the cramped space, but cameras could hide on the dark spaces beyond. His gut told him to act like the others.

  He trusted his gut.

  Bug-ugly flashed his pointy teeth. The whip crackled around his feet.

  Averting his gaze, Bei shuffled forward, following the group. In his peripheral vision, he spied two children huddled around a slumped figure.

  Small hands caressed bloody, tapered fingers. Tears streaked the dirt on their bruised faces.

  Bug-ugly turned to face them. “I’ll give you something to cry about.”

  Dashing forward, Bei moved into the whip’s range. The lash curled around his raised forearm and discharged. His body jerked and his knees buckled. He landed with a thud and sat motionless for a moment. Energy surged through his limb, crackled across his teeth. Was he immune to pain?

  Eyes wide, the two children scuttled backward.

  Bug-ugly jerked his lash free.

  Bei shook his head. What was going on here? And why couldn’t he remember? He reached for the slumped figure. As soon as his fingers brushed her skin, he sensed her slow heart-rate and… and another heartbeat.

  She was pregnant.

  The two children huddled near the stark metal walls, clinging to each other.

  Bei slid his arms under the expectant mother’s legs and back and rose to his feet. He knew she suffered from multiple contusions, a sprained wrist and dehydration. But how he knew, he couldn’t say. He eyed the backs of the other humans. The cell was nearly empty. Pinning the children with a look, he cleared his throat. “Stay in front of me.”

  He could protect their backs, while the group ahead provided cover from the front.

  Mouths open, the children glanced from Bei to Bug-ugly. A charge built up in the air. The two youngsters scampered forward and slipped out the door. The whip hit the ground where they’d been standing.

  Bei’s long strides closed the distance between them.

  “Did you see that?” A soft voice asked.

  He checked over his shoulder. Bug-ugly hadn’t said the words, yet he could have sworn it came from nearby.

  “He is protective of the diggers. Many of his kind are.” A deeper voice this time, like rocks rubbing together. “It is useful when we are not making quotas.”

  Heat flashed through Bei. He knew those voices. Knew them and hated them.

  “Yes, but it wasn’t in his programming.”

  Programming? The word burned like acid on his skin. Bei tightened his grip.

  The woman in his arms moaned.

  Walking down the ramp, the two children turned to watch him, concern deepened their brown eyes.

  “It’s alright.” Bei forced himself to relax. She didn’t need him injuring her further. His long strides quickly closed the distance between him and the main group of people. They left the ship and stepped onto packed ground. Instead of blue sky and open space, a rock dome arched overhead.

  They were underground.

  Water dripped nearby. A mine, he knew. Yet, the space remained close, too close for a tunnel, and had corrugated walls. A cattle chute. Humans were being herded. His ears strained. The voices had disappeared. His elbows brushed the sides of the metal walls, but he didn’t drop his hold.

  As soon as he got to where they were herding them, he’d take time to think, figure out what the hell was going on.

  Then he’d plan his next course of action.

  And maybe a little payback.

  Wonder if ol’ bug-ugly would like getting beat with his electrified whip? Bei marched out of the chute and into a four-by-four meter tunnel. Water dripped from the cut rock walls, gathered in channels along the side, and rushed down the sloping floor. Strings of lights illuminated the passage.

  The group thinned as some rushed ahead.

  The children slowed until he caught up. The older one eyed him from under blond dreadlocks. “This is our home.”

  A girl, Bei guessed, from the pitch of her voice. Probably six or seven. “Will there be someone to take care of you two and…” He didn’t want to say mother. He had a feeling some women didn’t like being asked their age. Although the woman seemed to be in her early twenties, she could be their mother. “And her.”

  The little girl pointed to red hash marks on the tunnel. “Yes. This is where our clan lives.”

  Clan? Humans often lived in communities. He lived in a community. He tried to grasp the name of it, see it in the colored symbols on the wall. A mist filled his head and prevented him from seeing his clan’s markings. The tunnel branched into three directions.

  “Which is your clan?” The little girl grasped the younger child’s hand and dragged him down the one with the red has
htag.

  “I don’t know.” Just one more unanswered question Bei needed to add to the growing list.

  The girl’s eyebrows met over her nose. “You must know. It is very important to know.”

  He couldn’t agree more. Yet, he felt a block wedged between him and the memory. “Why?”

  The tunnel curved and a man stepped free from an alcove. He grinned when he saw the little girl, but stopped cold when his attention landed on Bei.

  “Daddy!” The little boy tugged free of the girl’s hold and raced toward the man.

  The Dad caught up his son, held him close then buried his face in his neck. A moment later, the two raced ahead of Bei down the tunnels.

  “Because…” She bit her lower lip. “Because it is. It is food and clothing and everything.”

  Bei blinked. Very important indeed, and yet he still couldn’t remember. He followed the girl around another bend. “I think I’ve lost my clan.”

  “That is not good.”

  “No. No, it isn’t.”

  Rocks skittered behind Bei. He guessed two men followed him. Something told Bei he wasn’t going to like the welcoming committee. His skin tightened.

  “Once I hand her over, I’ll see if I can find my clan.” He raised his voice, hoping the guys behind him heard. He didn’t want any trouble.

  He wanted answers.

  The tunnel opened up on a wide cavern. Mud and rock shanties filled the space. Black smoke from the cooking fires smudged the jagged ceiling. Women and children gathered around bubbling pots in the center of the space. Men armed with picks and shovels stood on the roofs of the buildings.

  Guess trouble had found Bei.

  He stopped three meters into the village. “If you tell me where she belongs, I’ll set her there then leave.”

  A man rounded the corner of a building, holding a sledge hammer in a white-knuckled grip. Dark eyes pitted his oval face and moisture clung to his scraggly beard. “Ruth. Here. Now.”

  The little girl sprinted to the man’s side. “He doesn’t have a clan, Father.”

  The man pushed Ruth behind him. “And so you thought to join ours by impregnating my daughter?”

  “I just met your daughter on the transport. The child she carries is not mine.” At least, Bei didn’t think so. An image flickered inside his head. A blond-haired, blue-eyed woman with a warm smile. He breathed through the pain. That was his woman. His.

  Shadows danced along the ground.

  More men had joined the three behind him.

  Fabric ripped. Ridges appeared along Bei’s arm. He nearly dropped the woman. What the hell? In the blink of an eye, the ridges disappeared. What was wrong with him? “If you just take her, I think I should leave.”

  He could hurt these people, would hurt them if they tried anything. And they were going to try. He could taste the anticipation in the air. Practically see them drawing off the pool of courage the presence of each gave the other.

  “And have it said the Deutche clan doesn’t take care of its own?” The leader thumped the handle of the sledge hammer in his hand.

  Instead of hiding in the ramshackle buildings, the women and children behind him collected rocks and broken handle pieces.

  “Ruth can tell you that she’s never seen me before today.” At least Bei hoped it was true. Craters hollowed out his memory. His gut said only the blond woman would bear his child. But why couldn’t he remember her name?

  The leader snorted. “Ruth?”

  Ruth sidled out from a building. She stretched her lids until they slanted. “I haven’t seen one like him, since the Mings.”

  Did the motion mean something?

  “Are you a Ming?”

  Bei rolled the name around his head, came up blank. “I do not think so.”

  Two more men joined the crowd behind him.

  He had to end this and soon. Crouching, Bei set the pregnant woman on the ground. He smoothed the rocks away before lowering her head. “I will leave now.”

  He had to find the woman with blond hair and blue eyes. She could help him find his clan. She could help him find himself.

  Raising his hands a little, Bei rose.

  The men charged.

  Chapter 7

  A metallic taste flooded Nell’s mouth. Swallowing the blood, she squeezed her eyes closed. Her head pounded from being upside down. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening. The ground just didn’t open up and devour people. She peeked through her lashes. Dirt and sand pressed against her visor helmet.

  Pressure squeezed her chest; her lungs labored for air. Lights danced in her peripheral vision. Oh, God. She was going to pass out. She was going to die!

  Worms of electric blue squirmed across her helmet. Her hair crackled and her neck stung as if bitten by hundreds of Army ants. Dammit, she knew something lived in the sand.

  And now it was eating her.

  A bitter lump lodged in her throat. The sand parted and her head popped into an opening. A spotlight of sunshine shone through a hole in the sand dome. In its glow, she spied the white skeleton of a tree, the cracked mud of a dry river bed, and a brown carpet.

  The sand spit her out with a pop.

  Then she was falling down toward the ground, picking up speed. The ground jumped up to meet her. She raised her arms and gritted her teeth. She hoped she remembered how to somersault. Her fingers touched cold dirt, brittle bits of dried grass swirled like confetti. Bending her arms, she tucked her chin.

  The dead vegetation scraped her helmet as she rolled. Grass crunched under her spine. Ha! This gymnastics stuff was a piece of cake. Her legs slammed against the ground, splayed out in front of her, and she stopped moving. Pins and needles raced across her body.

  She’d always hated gymnastics.

  A shadow moved across her visor.

  Nell batted it away, hit nothing and let her arm drop to her side.

  “That was an interesting landing.” Elvis patted her arms and legs, checking for broken limbs. “I would have bet humans were not so deformed that they couldn’t land on all fours.”

  “Not deformed. Evolved. Humans are evolved.” Levering up onto her elbows, she glared at the Amarook. “And that’s a fine lot of thanks I get for saving your life.”

  Elvis cocked his head. His wolf lips twitched. “I appreciate the effort, but I do not believe either of our lives are safe just yet.”

  “Good point.” Leave it to a wolf to split hairs. Aches and pains drummed Nell’s body as she staggered to her feet.

  “Do you know where we are?” The Amarook shook his hide, creating an aura of dust and sand.

  “Definitely not in Kansas.” A memory niggled at the back of her mind. Although this place looked familiar… She kicked off the sand shoes and buckled them to her pack.

  “What does Mom say?”

  Heat flooded Nell’s face. Sheesh, she should have thought of that. Especially since the arrow pointing the way had disappeared from her visor. “Mom?”

  A second passed. Then two. Five.

  Nothing.

  “She’s not talking.” Which was weird. Mom had promised not to leave Nell alone. Could the blue worms have done something? Was that why her neck stung? “What’s Pi to twenty decimal places?”

  Silence echoed inside her skull.

  “I’ve lost my connection to the ship.” And to Mom. Nell set her finger against her throat, counted heartbeats.

  Elvis’s whiskers twitched and he stroked her hand. “Are you well?”

  “I felt a small shock before I emerged from that sandy birth canal.” Not something she wanted to experience again. Ever. “And since my brain box controls all my vital organs, I wanted to check to make sure I wasn’t, you know, dying.”

  Dying wouldn’t help Bei, Rome or Keyes.

  “And are you?”

  She shook out her hands. “I think I’m feeling a little panicked. But I’ll be fine. Really.”

  She didn’t have a choice.

  Rubbing her hands t
ogether, she glanced around. Across the dead grass, lights glowed through the bone white branches. A stone path edged the field. “You know this looks like the park where we were supposed to land.”

  Except everything was dead.

  She hoped that wasn’t a sign.

  Elvis craned his neck and stared at the ceiling. “I believe you can breathe easy. The energy barrier is holding back the sand.”

  Nell looked up. Sand and dirt snaked across the domed ceiling. She dropped to her knees and raised her hands. Right, like she could hold back the deluge if it came. “Holy cow!” Bursts of light pushed back the darkness. “Are those stars?”

  “Static electricity.” He chuckled, then pointed through the trees. “Those are street lights.”

  Street lights were good. They meant people. Well, they meant Skaperians. This was their embassy, after all. Rising, she brushed the dust off her uniform. “Guess we should set off to see the Ambassador.”

  “Wait.” Elvis freed the straps of his helmet. His black nostrils twitched as he turned his head this way, then that. “The air is breathable.”

  Nell glanced at the force field holding up the world. “I think I’ll keep my helmet on for a while yet.”

  At least until she could see blue sky over her head.

  Nodding, he tucked his into his saddle bags. “I’ll lead.”

  “Not a problem.” Amarooks were amazing hunters, better even than wolves on Earth. She waited until he drew abreast of her then started walking.

  Aside from the crunch of grass, the world was silent. No birds sung. No insects chirped. No breeze ruffled the dead leaves.

  The quiet seeped into her bones and her skin crawled. “Do you think there are any Skaperians still alive?”

  She just needed one to stand up with her and declare humans sentient.

  Then she could report Bei’s kidnapping. Thanks to her brain box, the aliens’ images were recorded in the Icarus’s mainframe.

  “Someone has kept this place running.”

  When they reached the path, her boot heels rasped stone. “They’re going to hear us coming from miles away. Should I walk on the grass?”

  Elvis smoothed his black feathers off his head. “These are our allies. We want them to know we’re coming.”

 

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