by Cara Bristol
“About that…” She had to tell him how she’d changed the entry protocol. He wouldn’t like that she’d gone behind his back. “I need to tell you…”
He held up his hand. “Let me finish. Third, you are not going anywhere. You’re staying right here where I can protect you.”
The autocratic edict set her teeth on edge. “You can’t keep me here!” She hadn’t fought so hard for her freedom and safety only to be dictated to by another man, however well intentioned. She was nobody’s captive!
“Yes, I can.”
Let him try! “As you’ve realized,” she said, “I’m a master sensate. A computer system doesn’t exist that I can’t infiltrate. I can hijack one of your spaceships and be gone before you realize there was a breach. Your entry and exit protocols, for instance—”
He leaned in until his breath caressed her ear, and he whispered, “Did your orientation tour happen to include a visit to the brig?”
He was threatening to lock her up? She jerked away and rounded on him. “What are you saying?”
“Moonbeam’s isolation can cause people to go a little crazy. We haven’t had anyone snap yet, but the possibility exists. You could be the first ward of the Deceptio jail.”
“I can access computer-controlled doors, too!” She crossed her arms.
He laughed. “You and half the employees on Deceptio—which is why they’re not computer controlled.” From his pocket he pulled out a metal ring and dangled some odd-shaped jagged objects. “Good old-fashioned locks and keys. The best antiques money can buy.”
She leaped off the bench. “You’d imprison me?”
He rose to his feet. “In a heartbeat, if it would save your life.”
He would. She could see it in the determined set of his jaw. Not a man to cross. He was a mountain. Bigger, taller, and, if his taut muscles were anything to judge by, stronger than any man she’d encountered. Only March, her supervisor, approximated his brawn, but Dale still came out ahead.
Alonio was slight but wiry and fast. He struck like lightning, inflicting thundering pain. Her wings had been gone before she’d realized his saber had been unsheathed.
Could Dale protect her from Alonio?
“My ex vowed to slay anyone who assisted me. He executed the guard outside my hospital room,” she said. “Then he planted a report in the official record that a crazed patient had done it.” She was insane for considering this. But oh, how tempting. She’d fought solo against an indomitable force for so long. “He won’t stop until he destroys me.”
“He’ll stop.” Dale flexed his fists. Had he gotten bigger? Muscles in his shoulders, his chest, his biceps bulged. His face adopted a hardness she hadn’t seen before. “Because I’m going to take him out.”
“Take him—”
“Kill him.”
“He’s an ambassador.”
“He’s a threat.”
“There will be repercussions. Intergalactic ones.”
His eyes narrowed. “Perhaps you still care for your ex-husband.”
“No!” Tender emotion had been decimated long before the final attack. “Why would you say that?”
“You seem to be protesting his demise rather vehemently.”
“I don’t want you to put yourself at risk to save me. No one can prove what he’s done. If you kill him, you’ll be charged with murder. You’ll be arrested.”
“You don’t need to worry about that.”
“I do need to worry about that.” This conversation was surreal. They argued about killing her ex-husband, weighing the pros and cons as if it were a debate. Alonio’s viciousness had driven her to moral ambiguity.
“There’s no point to arguing or worrying because this is nonnegotiable. I don’t need your permission or agreement.” He stalked toward her. His musculature had swelled and tautened. He was primed for battle.
Certainty that Alonio could prevail, would prevail, wavered.
“I won’t allow you to leave until he is no longer a threat,” Dale said. “What’s it going to be? Do I put you in the brig or will you agree not to run?”
His implacable gaze reinforced his words. He would lock her up if that’s what it took. That he offered a choice spoke volumes. Despite her lies and his knowledge of her abilities, he would believe her if she gave her word.
He cared enough to risk his life for her. He trusted her.
And because he did—he could. She would honor her agreement. The risks were enormous, but she would rely on her faith in him that they would win and Alonio would lose. “I promise I won’t run,” she said.
Dale pulled her against his chest, his arms like wings as he folded them around her. Tension dissipated, evaporating in little puffs, leaving her feeling as light as air. Safe. Illumina closed her eyes.
Chapter Nine
How could someone so little eat so much? Dale straddled a chair and watched Ilumina shovel through a mountain of food. He’d seen cyborgs coming off a seventy-two-hour burn not tuck away as many calories.
Perhaps as a result of the nutrition, she’d lost the gauntness that had hollowed her cheeks, but changes extended beyond that. Within a week’s time, she acquired new vigor, her walk steadier, yet lighter. Her eyes weren’t gray as he’d first thought, but silver, and they glittered brighter than ever. Her hair crackled with life. But the biggest difference was in her skin.
“You’re glowing,” he said. A compliment, yes, but also a statement of fact. It was as if every skin cell was a microscopic lantern, the combined effect of which radiated an aura of light.
“I stopped taking a luminosity suppressant.” She lifted a shoulder. “Most everyone knows I’m a Faria now, so there didn’t seem to be any point in hiding it.”
She’d surrendered the military fatigues for silky trousers and flowing tunics that caught the air as she walked. He loved the changes in her. He was falling in love.
Since their détente, they’d spent many non-working hours together, stargazing in the observatory, watching entertainment vids in the lounge, walking and talking. She’d requested a tour of the infamous brig.
He’d shown it to her.
“You really would have put me here?” She had eyed the barred cells constructed for discomfort and attitude adjustment. There were four of them, each with only enough room for a hard slab bed and a commode.
“Yes.” Imprisoning her, even for her own safety, would have killed him. He would have done it—and then pummeled the gym punching bag bare knuckled until his hands were broken and bleeding.
“Hmm.” Was all the comment she’d made.
“How’s the training of your replacement assistant working out?” she asked now.
He sighed.
She giggled. “That bad?”
“Not terrible, exactly. She hasn’t done anything major, just a lot of small stuff. Charlie is still here to catch and fix her mistakes, but I worry what’ll happen when he leaves tomorrow.” He rubbed the nape of his neck. “We’ll work it out, I’m sure.”
“You’re such a good guy.” She pushed her nearly empty plate away and patted her mouth with the napkin.
“What can I do? His grandmother could go like that.” He snapped his fingers. “Anyway, on the positive side, I deliver Baby to Xenia in three days.”
“You’re taking her? Not Giorgio?”
“Giorgio will be on leave.” Along with half the staff, it seemed. “I’d always planned to fly Baby. The emperor is buying her for himself. Since he’s the highest ranking official on Xenia, political protocol kind of demands that the highest ranking official of Moonbeam—me—present the craft to him.”
“I didn’t think you cared about political etiquette.”
“Usually, I don’t.” He grimaced. “However, delivering her gives me a chance to convince him to order an entire fleet of ZX7Ms, which is my ultimate goal. Moonbeam would be set for years.”
He cocked his head. “How’d you like to go for a pre-delivery spin? I want to familiarize myself with Baby’s
systems before I meet with the emperor.” He didn’t extend the invitation lightly. If not for her, they might still be searching for the programming glitch.
Her eyes sparkled. “You mean fly? When?”
“Today. I’ve already cleared your absence with March.”
“Yes! Yes!” She clapped her hands. “Now?” She leaped to her feet.
He chuckled. “Sure, we can go now. Let me get her prepped.” Via wireless, he contacted Flight Control and ordered Baby moved to the transporter.
* * * *
Illumina at his side, Dale strolled by Charlie’s desk on the way to the flight deck. His assistant and the fill-in bumped heads over the terminal. “Tap here and then toggle over to this screen and you’ll be able to access the detail report,” Charlie said. “Click here, key in the code I gave you, and that will transmit it to the queue in his microprocessor.”
“How do I send it to his computer?”
“You are sending it to his computer. The microprocessor is in his brain. He’s a cyborg. We’ve been over this.” Charlie did well to not sound exasperated.
“In his brain?” Serena scrunched her forehead. If ever a person had been misnamed, she had. No serenity could be had with her around. The woman would wreak havoc the whole time Charlie was gone.
Call it callous and self-centered, but he hoped that whatever happened with the grandmother occurred fast so he could get his assistant back. “Somebody save me,” he muttered.
Illumina hugged his arm. “It’s not that bad,” she murmured.
“Oh, yes it is.”
He strode to the console, and the two looked up, Charlie squinting as if suffering a massive headache. “How’s it going?” Dale asked.
“Good, I think.” Serena bit her lip.
“Great!” Charlie said in the overly cheerful voice of a bald-faced liar.
“Signal for a shuttle when you’re ready to come back, and I’ll approve that special charter.” Please. Thank goodness the most important project was about complete. He couldn’t risk Serena dealing with anything regarding Baby.
“Will do, thanks.”
“I’m taking Baby for a run. If something comes up, ping me.”
“Check,” Charlie said.
“You have a child?” Serena asked.
Shoot me.
“The ZX7M,” the three of them said together.
“Oh, yeah. You mentioned that.”
“Several times,” Charlie muttered.
“How many grandmothers do you have?” Dale hoped he didn’t have to suffer through this again.
Charlie frowned. “Just the one…”
“Shouldn’t we go?” Illumina nudged his arm.
“Yeah,” he agreed through gritted teeth. Because otherwise he might strangle Serena or Charlie or both of them. How could there be such a disconnect between Serena’s supervisor’s assessment and her abilities? Her boss who’d volunteered her services had raved about her capabilities. Unfortunately, there wasn’t time to train anyone else.
“Give her a chance; she’s probably nervous,” Illumina whispered as they walked away.
“I’m trying.” What was being tried was his patience. He thought he gave employees a fair shake, but could he be the problem? Cyborgs intimidated some people, and he hadn’t bothered to hide his impatience and irritation with her mistakes.
Frustration melted away when they climbed into the cockpit of the ZX7M, and Illumina’s face lit up with a radiant smile. He folded himself into the pilot’s chair and motioned her into the co-pilot’s. They strapped in.
Dale switched the controls to voice so Illumina could follow along. “Flight Control, this is Homme, authorization Yankee Papa nine eight nine. Activate descender.”
“Roger, Homme.”
A minor jolt, and then the craft lifted off the shop floor as the vertical transporter pushed it upward. Baby rose into the shaft that led to Deceptio’s surface. The granite of the moon’s upper crust replaced the view of the manufacturing plant. As they rose, the cockpit pressurized.
Atop Deceptio’s day-lit surface, moonscape barren of all but sand and rock spread over a desolate, dull-gray plain. The runway stretched long and clear, the crawling maintenance bots having removed debris blown in by the eddies. “Computer! Ignite engines and prepare for liftoff.”
“Acknowledged.”
The floor vibrated as the engines fired.
“Activating thrusters. Prepare for lift-off in ten, nine…”
At the count of one, the thrusters roared and engines spun with a high frequency, near-inaudible whine, shooting Baby down the runway like a bat out of hell. Moonscape blurred, and then she climbed into the sky. The steepness of the angle put them at a recline. He glanced at Illumina to ensure she was okay and not in any pain. “All right?”
“I’m fine,” she replied, but there was a slight tightness around her mouth.
They reached the moon’s outer atmosphere, and Baby leveled out. Below, through the view screen, the runway and descender pad shimmered and then winked out of view. “It’s gone!” Illumina gasped.
“That’s the cloaking device at work,” he explained. “Not only is the landing strip invisible to the eye, but the computer can’t see it either. To land on Deceptio, you need the exact coordinates or the device needs to be turned off.”
If someone happened to be orbiting Deceptio when someone entered or left, they’d see the runway. Still, he’d have to be in the right place at the right time. If an intruder landed, he couldn’t operate the descender without the password and a link to the central computer. The vehicle transporter could lower only one ship at a time, eliminating the possibly of a massive invasion. If an enemy managed to get into the plant, he’d be a sitting duck on the dock, outmanned and outgunned. Dale’s cache of arms was second only to Cy-Ops’s arsenal. With the security redundancies, no place in the galaxy was more protected than Deceptio.
“How many people have the coordinates?” she asked.
“Only a handful with a need-to-know.” He reached over and squeezed her hand in reassurance.
They cleared Deceptio’s thin atmosphere, and Dale grabbed the stick. “Computer, switch auto control to manual.”
“Acknowledged. Switching in five, four, three…”
He zoomed Baby closer to the vividly orange and purple Naran but remained clear of its gravitational pull.
“It’s more beautiful here than through the observatory,” she said. “Not inhabitable, you said?”
“No, and that’s good for us. That means that there’s no reason for someone to come to this section of the galaxy.” It made Deceptio the perfect place to hide a spacecraft chop shop—or a Faria on the run.
“You thought of everything.”
“I tried to. Do you want to see more of Naran or see how fast Baby can go?”
“Fast, please!”
He veered away from the planet and opened up the throttle. Baby responded immediately, hurtling through space. Through the side viewing windows, stars streaked by. He glanced at Illumina. She radiated a silver aura, her smile glowing all the way up to her sparkling eyes.
He tipped Baby’s wings, rocking the craft from side to side. Illumina giggled, her laughter tinkling like bells. Dale grinned and guided Baby through another minor acrobatic maneuver, banking her left then right.
Probably the Xenians would disapprove that he’d taken their craft for a joy flight, but fuck ’em. The computer would record the flight hours and maneuvers, but the use could be chalked up to a final test. His shop had built the craft, he was the boss, and what the Xenians didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. Breaking his own rules mattered little if it meant seeing Illumina happy.
“You want to try a loop?” he asked her.
“Yes!”
He lifted the nose in a positive pitch urging Baby into a climb. At the top of the loop, she flew upside down. Illumina squealed. Only their harnesses kept them in their seats. Illumina’s hair cascaded downward like an electrified waterfa
ll.
Baby followed the circle 360 degrees around.
One more maneuver and he’d call it quits. Dale guided the craft into a vertical figure eight. Musical peals of enjoyment had him chuckling like a mischievous kid. But his body reacted like a man’s. Desire surged in a wave of heat.
He eased back and trimmed the speed to a cruise.
“That’s going to have to be it,” he said. The craft did belong to the Xenians, and he didn’t want to press his advantage too far. Besides, he wasn’t some horny sixteen-year-old trying to impress a girl in hopes of getting laid.
I’m a horny thirty-eight-year-old….
“Can I fly it?” Illumina looked at him, her expression pleading.
“You know how?”
“You grip the stick, right?”
Grip the stick. He had a stick—shit. Keep it in your pants, Homme.
He put his raging hormones on hold to focus on the request. There was no reason why she couldn’t take the controls for a bit. They weren’t navigating through an asteroid belt or launching or landing. The ZX7M was gliding through open space. She couldn’t hit anything. Even under manual control, Baby practically flew herself. If Illumina stalled the craft, it would just float—and he’d be right here. Hell, if not for her, Baby would have been grounded.
“All right. Keep it level. No rolls or loops, okay?”
“No rolls or loops, I promise.”
She grasped the controls on the copilot’s side, and he let go of the captain’s. She sat straight in her chair, her gaze shifting from the instruments to the viewing window. The seriousness of her expression made him want to laugh. “You can open up the throttle a little,” he said.
Baby shot through the sky like she’d been catapulted.
“A little!” He started to grab the stick but caught himself and gripped his seat edge instead.
“Sorry.” She grinned but eased up on the speed.
They cruised through the blackness bejeweled by dazzling stars. Other than Baby’s throaty hum, there was a companionable silence, seductive in its intimacy. It teased more than his body. It kindled a yearning for a partner to walk the walk. This is what it could be like if you had someone.
