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KAY2581, or Kay as they called the planet they were about to mine, had posed a unique challenge. The ore they’d discovered was only to be found beneath the planet’s oceans. That in itself was not the only problem, or even the main one. The planet was so far out it would’ve been economically unfeasible to mine due to the cost and time involved in getting workers and equipment to the planet.

Someone in the company had hatched the brilliant plan of developing the deep sea crew in vitro, en route. They’d accelerated the growth beyond anything ever attempted before, and arranged to ‘install’ education and behavioral modification via computer through minute chips implanted in the embryos’ brain stems.

Victoria was appalled. They might be genetically enhanced, but they were still human beings. It was just plain wrong to grow them completely in a tube, without any human contact whatsoever, without even the opportunity to ‘grow up’—no childhood, no family, no friends—no life experiences. They might have been nothing more than androids for all the consideration that was paid to their innate humanity and the rights they should have been able to expect.

Six months into the trip, they were to be turned out to begin learning to interact—but only with each other. Her and her crew would still be in stasis.

How could they be expected to be able to interact with humans that had not been genetically altered as they had, or even relate to them, under such circumstances?

Their psychological profiles were to be carefully monitored, but that had given her little comfort. She’d insisted her chamber be set to wake her periodically so that she could observe their progress herself, but she was a long way from being convinced that the company’s decision had been a wise one.

Her first few attempts to communicate with them had been stonewalled. They were supposed to be able to communicate with each other and the ground crew via telepathy, but she’d come to the conclusion that that little part of the experiment had been a complete bust ... until she’d noticed Raphael.

It was hard not to notice Raphael. That wasn’t his ‘real’ name. The company, obviously deficit in the imagination department, had merely numbered the workers. But the moment she’d seen him she’d been captivated by the sheer beauty and symmetry he represented ... on a purely artistic level naturally. The master, Raphael, one of the greatest creators of beauty of all time, had come instantly to mind and from that moment on she had thought of him only as Raphael.

His perfection made it difficult to actually look directly at him, however, without going into a trance-like state of admiration.

He’d noticed she had trouble looking directly at him. Unfortunately, he seemed to have completely misinterpreted the reason for her discomfort. Somehow, she suspected that was one of the reasons he made no effort to hide his interest in her. He enjoyed making her squirm and, eventually, his preoccupation with her had led her to realize that the deep water crew was perfectly capable of communicating via telepathy. They simply had no interest in communicating with the two-legged, air breathing humans.

As she reached the lower deck, Victoria’s gaze went automatically to the tank that took up the majority of the space. Glass surrounded most of the holding tank where more than half her crew had been packed in like sardines in a can.

She stopped abruptly at the thought, realizing it was a poor choice of metaphor under the circumstances.

It’s the right metaphor, said an amused voice in her head.

Her heart seemed to trip over itself. Raphael.

He glided to the glass, his lips curled faintly.

It took an effort to block his telepathic probing, but she had found that she could, so long as she was warned ahead of time that he would intrude. And, if he was looking at her, he was almost certainly probing her thoughts.

Victoria allowed herself a brief glimpse of him before she focused her gaze on a spot below his chin. She couldn’t help but wonder where they’d gotten his root stock. She had never in her life seen a man so perfectly, flawlessly the persona of male beauty. His facial features were lean, sharply detailed, almost angular, from the classic lines of his nose, to his high, prominent cheek bones, to the clean line of his jaw. The one, tiny imperfection was a noticeable cleft in his chin, but even that seemed to enhance his disturbing good looks.

His arms and torso were magnificent. He’d been designed for strength and stamina underwater and there was little doubt in her mind that he was muscular enough to handle pretty much any situation he was likely to encounter.

His male member was just as masterful and just as disturbing, if not more so, but Victoria didn’t delude herself that it was in any artistic sense. She couldn’t help but wonder if it was by accident, or design, that the coloration that covered his lower body, almost like an elaborate, intricately detailed tattoo, dipped under his phallus, almost seeming to frame it. Certainly, the effect made it impossible to ignore his endowment.

It might be a fluke, but she had a sneaking suspicion that somebody in the genetics lab had a warped sense of humor.... Someone gay, or someone female.

The females hadn’t been designed in such a way—their breasts and their sex were ‘tattooed’, only the males were, apparently, designed for their shock value.

Somehow, however, she’d never really found the other males quite so ... disturbing, perhaps because they weren’t quite so well endowed?

The strangest thing about her discomfort, however, was that she didn’t recall ever finding herself in a situation where nudity disturbed her. Privacy was only for high pay officers in the company. The grunts who started at the entry level positions more often than not shared group quarters, which did not allow for excessive modesty. By year two, pretty much everyone had grown accustomed to bathing and showering with, or within view of, everyone else.

Nor was she without sexual experience. She had never really found a partner that inspired a lot of interest in sex for her, but the company required employees to share sexual favors, not necessarily as recreation, but to cut down on emotional stress and mating competitiveness. She had made it a point to participate at least often enough to keep her name off of the antisocial list—a determination to go up in the pay ranks in the company required a willingness to sacrifice individuality for conformity.

Unable to come up with a comfortable conclusion, she dismissed it, prodding her memory for the reason she’d decided to confront Raphael. Her irritation returned with the memory.

“You were probing my thoughts,” she said accusingly.

He gave her a look of innocence, but his eyes gleamed with amusement. Not I. One of the others, perhaps?

“I know it was you. I ... uh....”

The amused gleam was replaced by another emotion, one Victoria was at pains to ignore. Recognize my touch?

To her surprise and discomfort, a blush mounted her cheeks. “It’s hardly a touch,” she said sharply.

True. It’s far more intimate than a touch, he countered.

The comment made her careless. How would you know?

A slow smile curled his lips. You could always prove me wrong....

Chapter Two

“In your wildest dreams,” Victoria responded tartly.

They’re pretty wild. Would you like me to show you?

The blush that had barely begun to fade, turned fiery. Self-consciously, Victoria glanced quickly around to see who might have observed the interchange between the two of them. To her relief, most of the crew members were occupied. Roach, however, was dividing a speculative look between her and Raphael.

She was on the point of striding over to him and demanding to know if he was under the mistaken impression that he held a special position on the crew that allowed him to sit on his ass while everyone else worked, but Raphael caught her attention once more.

Why do you call me Raphael? It’s not the ... name I was given.

Victoria’s head snapped around. For a moment, their gazes locked. With an effort she broke the contact, gazing over his shoulder at the other crew members, who’d congregated at the opposite end of the tank. She wasn’t about to tell him how she’d arrived at the name, however. “Names are easier to remember than numbers,” she said flatly.

But that’s not the reason, is it?

Victoria looked at him a moment before her gaze wandered to the others once more as it occurred to her to wonder if they could ‘hear’ the conversation between her and Raphael.

They’re not listening. It wouldn’t be polite.

Irritation surfaced again. “You don’t seem to have a problem listening to my private thoughts.”

His brows rose. I thought we were conversing.

Victoria gave him a look. They both knew he’d been under no such misapprehension, but it seemed childish to bicker about it. “I gave everyone names because ... it’s part of who a person is and how they identify themselves.”

He studied her consideringly. This is why you don’t like it when Roach over there calls you Tory. It’s too ... intimate. Victoria is less approachable, isn’t it?

Caught off guard, Victoria allowed him to capture her gaze once more. To her relief, however, Huggins announced on the inner com at that moment that they were about to dock. “We’re docking. You’ll have to excuse me.”

* * * *

It looked far worse up close than it had from the viewing screen, and she’d thought it looked like hell from several miles out. Victoria stood on the gangplank, surveying the landing platform and the area immediately around it.

Most of the damage appeared to be the ravages of severe weather, but there were at least two scorched areas Victoria was almost certain were from laser fire. She held up one hand as crew members began to crowd onto the gang plank behind her.

“Hold! Roach, get the weapons out.”

Nobody moved and after a moment Victoria turned around and looked at them. “Today, people!”

They scattered, moving to the cases that held the lasers. Victoria stepped back up the gangplank until she reached the inner com. “Huggins?”

“What is it, Anderson?”

“Looks like we might have had some laser fire here. You might as well settle in for a game of cards.”

“Laser fire?”

“Could be lightening strike, but I’m going to take the crew in to check it out before we begin off loading.”

“Keep in touch.”

“Will do.” She looked up. “Roach, issue everybody a com unit too. We’re going to take this by twos. Roach, you and Kichens. Brown, you can go with Tuttle. Clancy, you’re with me.”

Trouble?

Victoria frowned. Could be. I’m not certain yet, but you’d think someone would’ve come up to greet us, wouldn’t you?--I’d just rather be safe than sorry.

We should check the mine area.

Right. Hang on a minute.

She followed her surface crew members down the gang plank. “Spread out and check the immediate area. I don’t want anyone going down, yet, though.” She moved to the edge of the platform and looked down, calculating the distance to the surface of the water. Looks like about 20 to 30 feet, Raphael. Hold for now. We’ll check the main structure. When we get done, I’ll have the tank lowered and your crew can go in and check out the mines.

We could make the dive.

No. It’s too risky.

It could be more risky to leave three quarters of your team caged and unable to come to your aid.

That’s an asinine thing to say, Raphael.

But true.

It’s completely unjust and you damn well know it! The containment’s for the water, not the crew ... Have it your way! She stalked up the gangplank to the inner com. “Huggins. I need you to lower the tank. The deep sea crew is going in to check out the mines.” She released the button. “Clancy, give me a hand lowering a case of munitions for the crew. If they do run into trouble, I want them armed.”

When they’d removed the munitions case, the gangplank was raised and Huggins moved the ship just off side the habitat. Hovering a few meters above the water, he lowered the containment and released it as Clancy and Victoria watched from the flight deck.

As soon as she saw they’d safely off-loaded, she and Clancy secured the munitions case, wrenched it up over the top of the railing and began lowering it over the side.

The railing wobbled as Clancy climbed up on it to steady the guide wire. Victoria looked at it in alarm. “Get down, Clancy.”

He glanced at her. “We need to hold the case free of the structure and make sure it doesn’t get tangled on the way down. It’s got a little wobble to it, but it’s safe enough.”

Victoria was checking the railing as the first pair of crew members returned to report in. “Tuttle, find something we can use to steady the munitions case while we lower it. Clancy, get off the damned rail. It’s unstable.”

Tuttle returned with a bar, Roach and Brown trailing behind her. The bar had a right angle on one end she used to catch the guide wire. Roach set his laser down and went to the railing, leaning over it to peer down.

“Get off....” Victoria broke off as the railing leaned outward with the grinding shriek of metal. “Grab him. Somebody grab him!” she yelled as Clancy, who’d already begun to climb down, teetered when the railing shifted.

Time seemed to hold its breath, slowing almost to a standstill. She released her hold on the guide wire, leaping forward with one hand outstretched. She managed to grasp a handful of Clancy’s clothing, but it was snatched from her grip as he went over with the railing.

“Head’s up!” she yelled to the crew below as she watched one whole section of railing break loose and begin to fall, watched Clancy twist, grabbing frantically for a handhold. He caught the edge of the platform. She hit the deck, almost skidding off the edge of the platform herself, trying to stop her slide and grab Clancy’s hand at the same time.

One of the crew members grabbed her legs, anchoring her to the deck. Brown grabbed a handful of Clancy’s sleeve. He slipped from both their grasps, following the broken railing over the side.