Andromeda's Rebel

by Debra Jess

  "There's no blood, but there is a knot the size of the spaceport where her head hit the deck." Yohzad lowered her head. "Keep her warm. You'll have to carry her back to her apartment. The rest of the medical teams are busy doing the same for all the other ‘pets not already in their bunks."

  With her head lowered, Tamarja couldn't see Daeven anymore, but she was glad she couldn't feel anything. Above her, Yohzad caught something small that had shot through the air. A moment later, he raised her head again, her hair flopping into her face as he shoved his hands around the back of her skull. "This is going to feel wet," he said.

  She couldn't feel the wetness through her paralysis, but she knew how the bandages worked. The healing agent would seep through her curls, the cool liquid penetrating the knot to begin the healing process.

  "Hand me more bandages." Yohzad reached out again and caught another flying object. He ripped this one open using his teeth, then doubled the bandages and rubbed them together. He closed her eyes before pressing the bandages over them.

  Her heartbeat increased. Don't take away my eyesight!

  “What are you doing?“ Daeven asked.

  “Keeping her eyes wet until she can blink on her own.“ Yohzad's voice sounded distant. He must have stood up to leave. “Get her back to her room. Get her to bed. She'll be fine by morning."

  "Does the director know about her status?"

  Daeven's voice was closer now.

  "No, she doesn't." Yohzad paused, and Tamarja held her breath for a moment. "I can't activate the agent that would reverse the paralysis, but I can negotiate with the ship's captain. I'll try to convince him that it would look better for him to arrive at Facility Prime under his own power and not have the director meet him at the spaceport. That'll make it less likely that the director will call on Chase to fly her over there. That should buy Chase some time to recover."

  Another long pause.

  "Thanks, Yohzad." The fact Daeven was thanking him gave Tamarja a sliver of hope that he didn’t think she was a monster for being a prisoner.

  Yohzad gave no reply, but she heard him walk away.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Tamarja blinked against the low light.

  I can blink! I can see!

  While her eyes adjusted, her body tried to snuggle deeper under her covers as Rory faded from her dream.

  "Oh no, you don't. Time to wake up."

  She tried to curse the hand that pulled her blankets back, but even now her words drooped, dropping from her lips in formless syllables. It had been a rough night.

  "Why is it every time I get you into bed, you're too senseless for me to take advantage of it?"

  Why was Daeven still here? He knew she was a prisoner, and after the hassle of having him bring her back to safety again, she figured he'd leave. Maybe he'd call Jita to watch over her, but at least he'd be away from her―a worthless criminal.

  She sat up, her night clothes bunching around her. Trying to get out of bed was no easier than trying to fight Daeven for the blanket to keep herself covered. "W-W-What? W-Why?" Her throat rasped and tightened. She couldn't get out an entire question. Her legs jerked under the blanket, almost unseating Daeven. "S-S-Sorry."

  "That'll stop soon. Your body's reacting to overloaded senses. Manitac only activated the agent to reverse the paralysis four hours ago."

  Four hours ago, she'd felt the slight tingling of her limbs, which slowly built to the harsh bite of needles ceaselessly jabbing her flesh and her bones and her muscles. Even now, her body jerked around with the need to move, but she was unable to control the movements.

  She decided to try speaking again. "W-Why are you s-s-still here? S-S-Security neeedsss you."

  Daeven nodded. "I reported you as a medical emergency at Facility Prime. You fell down the stairs when Manitac activated the transmitter that controls all ‘pet collars. With so many ‘pets having difficulties, I was able to keep your name out of it. I've been ordered to remain here for the rest of my shift. Keep an eye on things."

  That's when she noticed his jacket. He'd been wearing black anyway, so it only took the addition of his field jacket to make it look as if he was back in uniform. She tried to shift her position, but her lack of coordination wouldn't allow it. She settled for curling the fingers of her right hand. It spasmed for a second and then locked closed as a fist. Using the heel of her other hand, she tried to stretch her fingers open. "W-Why do you s-s-stay?"

  Daeven wrapped his larger hands over hers, gently massaging her fingers. "You needed help. How could I not give it to you?"

  "You s-s-stay b'c-c-cuz you're a s-security officer?“ She looked up at him as her fingers started to loosen.

  He shook his head. “I stay because I care about you.“

  “Even t-though I wear a collar?"

  "I already knew about the collar."

  Her fingers opened, and she spread them wide, stretching them. Daeven moved his hand to her wrist, the second hand joining the first, kneading the muscles of her forearm. She felt the pins and needles disappearing under his gentle touch.

  "H-How do you know? When did you figure it out?" Her voice grew stronger, louder. Her question sounded more like a demand.

  Daeven didn't look her in the eyes. Instead, he lowered her right hand and picked up the left, repeating his massage. "I can't tell you that. It's illegal for me to say and dangerous for you to know. It could get us both into trouble and possibly kill you in the process."

  "We're not in trouble already?"

  This time he did look at her. "Not yet, or at least not so much trouble that I can't get us out of it."

  At least he'd confirmed her suspicions that he knew her from before her mind-wipe. One less question she had to wonder about, but it didn't make the knowledge any easier to swallow. And the fact that he knew about the secret experiment of partial mind-wiping made her even more curious about him. But then, maybe he had just figured it out once he put two and two together—realizing she didn’t remember him and feeling her collar. "Is-sn't there anything you can tell me?"

  "It's complicated." He huffed, his focus returning to her hands.

  "F-For you. F-For me, I have to live wondering why you hated me that first day we met and then suddenly you changed your mind."

  "I didn't hate you." He dropped her hand back into her lap. "I couldn't hate you. I just don't understand how you think sometimes."

  "Did you understand me before Manitac mind-wiped me?"

  "No. That's what I liked about you. You kept me guessing. Please don't ask me anymore."

  "You know who I really am, and you won't tell me."

  "You're Tamarja Chase. That hasn't changed. I can't tell you any more for many reasons."

  So it was her real name. That came as both a relief and a shock. "S-Such as?"

  "Answer me this," he said, leaning forward, his arms pinned on either side of her, caging her in place. "What happens when you try to remember your past?"

  "My head gets all f-foggy and then starts t-to pound." A ghost of the pain actually started as she said it, the instinct to rub her temples stalled only because her hands felt too heavy to lift.

  "And if you keep trying to remember?"

  "The headache gets worse. I gave myself a migraine the other day, trying to remember."

  "That's why I can't tell you anything. To have the information, but to not be able to remember it. You'd be locked in a loop of constantly trying to remember. You could drive yourself insane between the pain and physical pressure of the memory blocks. If the blocks start to leak, or if the pressure becomes too much, it could cause a cerebral hemorrhage. If Manitac gets to you before medical does, they might try to stop medical from helping you."

  "They'd let me die." That didn't surprise her in the least.

  "If you remember, you become a liability. Some Manitac officers might view the situation from the bottom line―it's cheaper to let you die than to have to rewipe you."

  "But I answer to AuRaKaz now."

&
nbsp; Daeven snorted, pulling away from her to stand next to the bed. "Don't mistake the director's superficial generosity for kindness. AuRaKaz is still a part of Manitac."

  He paced back and forth while Tamarja watched. She felt the stretch of skin around the nubs as she moved her head from side to side.

  “You kn-n-n-now about the partial wiping project?“

  “Yes, but I can’t tell you why.“

  More than anything, she wanted to press him on that point, but it was too hard to argue right now. She tried to give him a look to express her irritation, but he wouldn’t stop pacing. Finally, he stopped and faced her, hands on his hips.

  "Have you been able to remember anything?"

  He looked less like the man she'd seen last night and more like a security officer. The question made Tamarja pause, but she decided to press forward with her plan. Security officer or not, she needed Daeven's help. She could only hope he'd forgive her in the end for using him like this.

  "I need to know what I did wrong. I w-w-want to know why I'm coll…collared." Her stammering lessened the more she talked, and Tamarja decided to try getting out of bed. Swinging her legs around, she touched her toes to the cool floor.

  Without even having to ask, Daeven wrapped his arms around her and slowly supported her until she could stand on her own.

  "It's not just you, Tamarja. All the ‘pets had their collars activated. Thank the Stars, most were in their bunks. Very few work night shifts. Security was dispatched to help them with recovery."

  Tamarja thought of Rory, hidden away in the mountain. She remembered the woman who had given him water. That simple act of kindness comforted her somewhat. Whoever controlled the mountain project must have some sympathy for the ‘pets who worked there.

  "Do you know what it's like to be a p-p-puppet? To not remember?" As she spoke, she took a couple of wobbly steps away from the bed, away from Daeven, toward her desk and chair. "To w-walk with people, talk with them, but not completely share their world? You always have to w-watch what you say, not q-question what you don't understand. Someone might find out you're not normal. Someone might realize you're not worthy of their company. Isolation is worse than not remembering."

  Daeven didn't respond. For a second, he tried to reach out for her, but she pushed away from him, opting to reach for the edge of the desk instead. "I'm tired of pretending. I want to remember and I will remember, but I need your help to do it."

  "I can't."

  "P-Please, Daeven. I need this. You're the only one who c-can help me."

  "What can I do?" His eyes softened with his concern. She loved his eyes. Though they didn't hold the merriment of Yohzad's, or the joyousness of Jita's, they held a depth of understanding that neither Jita nor Yohzad could offer her.

  "Br…Bring me more Black Wave."

  The air in the room tightened around her as Daeven's whole body stiffened. His eyes shifted and hardened before he exploded.

  "You want me to bring you more Black Wave? Don't you remember what that stuff did to you when you only drank a little of the powder? You think I'm going to expose you to that stuff again? Who knows how it'll affect you?"

  "It w-will unblock my memory." Tamarja's legs had started to wobble again, so she sat down on the desk chair. "It's already unblocked some of my memory. I dream of people I used to know before." No need to tell him about dream sex with Rory. She didn't know what Rory meant to her, and she didn't need any more confusion clouding her judgment now. "Not full memories, just pieces. I'm sure if I could ingest some more, just a little, it would unblock all my memories."

  Daeven looked away from her, his gaze seeking any other point in the room. He seemed to actually consider her request, but then he shook his head as he turned back to her.

  "You don't know what you're asking. That stuff will kill you." His agitation now propelled him across the room away from her. He ran his fingers through his hair. "You've never seen anyone die of Black Wave poisoning. I have. Twice. It's not something I care to witness again. Certainly not with someone I care about."

  Tamarja sat quietly for a moment. "If you care about me, then you will help me remember. You wouldn't leave me trapped like this, living half a life."

  Daeven started to shake his head, but she interrupted him. "I'm already a walking experiment. Yohzad told me that I'm the next evolution of puppet. I can act normal and talk normal and perform more functions than a typical ‘pet. Do you know what that feels like?"

  "You can't believe everything Yohzad tells you." Daeven stopped, his frown deepening as if he regretted his warning. "Like the director, he works for Manitac. His loyalty begins and ends with them, no matter how much he pretends to rebel."

  Tamarja remained still. Resignation weighed heavy in his voice as his resistance started to break down.

  "Do you know what Manitac will do to you if you do remember?" he asked. "It only took a moment for them to paralyze you. It'll take them even less time to kill you."

  He was right, but it didn’t matter. Now that she suspected a way existed to get back her memories, she couldn’t let it go. It wasn’t just that they had violated her and taken something without her consent—though that was certainly enough. Something important lay beneath the memory blocks. She was sure of it. "Don't leave me like this," she whispered.

  Spinning, Daeven headed for the door. "I need to think."

  Tamarja could only watch as the door dissolved and reformed behind him. Her lack of control infuriated her and only made her more determined. With or without his help, she was getting her memories back.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  "I told you that girl was toxic."

  Daeven slumped in his chair across from Joran. He had left Facility Prime as soon as his shift ended. The tension in the facility percolated, spoiling for a fight. Each security checkpoint now had Manitac on-site, the gray-clad officers supervising their AuRaKaz counterparts, a situation relished by Manitac as much AuRaKaz resented it. Daeven had left the building with as little fuss as he could manage, borrowing a civilian floater before seeking out Joran at the broadcast tower.

  As much as he disagreed with Tamarja’s reckless decision, he had to defend her to Joran. "You can't blame her. She claims she's part of a larger experiment, a sort of autonomous ‘pet."

  "No, I can't blame her." Joran calmly sipped his claffien, appearing casual, though Daeven knew that was only a cover for the volcanic temper the man could unleash. "She's only doing what anyone in her situation would do. Being held prisoner but never knowing why must be maddening. I can, however, blame you for exacerbating the situation. Asking her out on a date? What were you thinking? And comming Cyrek of all people to help? By the Stars, Daeven, where has your sense gone? You should have commed me."

  "You don't have the override codes to reverse the ‘pet collars," Daeven reminded him. "Yohzad does. I thought he could help."

  "But he didn't."

  "He couldn't."

  "So he says."

  Daeven shrugged that off, something he'd been doing a lot with Joran's advice lately. This surprise inspection had created speculation that Manitac might know the Shadows were operating on Dawn's Landing. If Manitac did know, then both Daeven and Joran would have to evacuate, abandoning the Shadow plans for the colony. Daeven could be forced to leave Tamarja behind, a possibility he'd been ignoring ever since the carrier arrived.

  "Have you figured out why Manitac had her transferred to Dawn's Landing?"

  "No, I haven't." Joran's frown deepened, giving him a more maddened look in the low lighting of his apartment. Daeven knew Joran had contacts deep within the Manitac and Unity power structures, so it was very strange that the man had run into an info block. "I can't even find her arrest record anymore. Someone buried it."

  If Joran had no answers, then there were no answers to be had. "Do you think Cyrek did it?"

  "I can't afford to think anything. It could also have been the director. She'd have a more vested interest than Cyrek in creating a
high-functioning ‘pet such as your girl."

  "She has a name, Joran."

  "Such as Tamarja Chase. My apologies."

  But Joran wasn't sorry, not really. He continued to sit there, drinking claffien, his gaze never looking away from Daeven. "If the director could create a ‘pet such as Tamarja and present it to Manitac, that would ease some of the growing tension between Manitac and AuRaKaz."

  Daeven bristled at Joran referring to Tamarja as “it,“ but he hid it with a question. Joran wasn’t the kind of man you wanted knowing he’d gotten under your skin. "What sort of tension? I thought AuRaKaz had the complete blessing of Manitac to operate with impunity."

  Daeven could tell in which direction Joran's thoughts flowed. If Tamarja were really the director's experiment, then eliminating her would keep the relationship between AuRaKaz and Manitac off-balance. Joran, of course, would expect Daeven to take care of the situation. Perhaps he had been naïve, but this was not why he'd signed on with the Shadows. Killing Tamarja, after all she had survived, was not an option.

  The cold look on Joran’s face made Daeven’s fingers want to curl into fists. It confirmed his suspicions.

  "We're dealing with different priorities on the part of different Manitac divisions. The director's success has spawned intense interest by Terrestrial Projects in expanding colonization in this area. Personnel is screaming for more ‘pets to help build these colonies, but Unity has drained most of its prison population. Manitac is now looking at the independent colonies, the same ones the director is trying to entice into signing her contracts for supplemental ‘pets."

  "They're raiding the independent colonies now?" Daeven started to stand, but Joran waved him back down.