BioCybe (9 page)

Brandon’s surprise shone clearly. “You want me to access her
files?”

It sounded furtive when described like that, but Sandon knew
what he needed was contained within them. “Yeah.”

“Geez. Couldn’t you make it something easier?”

Sandon’s hackles rose, but Brandon was doing him a favor, so
he kept quiet.

“I’ll take a look, but these files are encrypted to the max.
I can’t promise, but I’ll do my best. How do you want them sent?”

He gave the details, and Brandon nodded. “I’ll get back to
you.” Without another word, the connection between them died.

* * * *

The flight via Alpha Aurigae took nine long days. Of course,
it was long to her, but the crew was ecstatic. Under normal circumstances, it
took ten and a half. She’d managed to increase the engine output and the speed
of the shuttle with her tweaks and recalculations.

If she were honest with herself, it was a case of doing whatever
in order to keep busy and keep the memories from rising up. The ones that
warmed her to the core and left her hungry—for him.

Standing in the line for breakfast in the galley right now
was the perfect example. Her gaze roamed over his form. He was lean, but not
thin, and the uniform he wore covered him like a glove. She particularly liked
the way it covered his butt.

Dragging her eyes away, she caught sight of Gorthos,
grinning at her. The scales covering his arms trembled a little, and she knew
what that meant.

“Hi, Gorthos. I’ll just have a Yanian egg, thanks.”

“Now, you know that’s not enough to get you through the day.
How about I cook you a nice little Yuvu sausage to go with it?”

The blue sausage was the same color as his scales, something
she knew to be part of the mating ritual of his people. Feed them something
you’ve cooked, representing the color of your scales. If they accept, they are
willing to undergo the Aparvee.

“That’s kind of you, Gorthos, but I’m not really into Yuvu
sausages. Honestly, the egg is sufficient.”

He blinked rapidly and she felt bad for turning him down,
but encouraging his feelings would only make things worse.

She grabbed one of the white china mugs, heading for the
coffee dispenser. When she arrived, the cup was taken from her hands by Sandon.
He’d watched the exchange and frowned, though she hoped he understood what
she’d just done.

“Did you accept the offer?” he asked.

“What offer?”

“The sausage. You are aware…”

“Yes, I know about the food rituals, and no, I didn’t. I
promised I wouldn’t tie myself to anyone onboard, and I mean to keep that
promise.”

He thrust the cup into her hand and she hissed as the heat
radiated to nerves not covered by the syntha-derm.

“Did I hurt you?”

“What? Oh… No. Sometimes the bio… Uhh, I feel things a
little more than others.” Flustered, she’d nearly said the bio-sensors
increased the feedback. Then she’d be giving the whole game away if anyone
heard. It was bad enough that Sandon knew.

“Oh. I should have known,” he muttered, and she felt the
kick of concern.

“Look, it’s okay. You weren’t aware.” She cast around
thinking for something to say, but drew a blank.

He gazed at her and she returned it. The air grew thick
until a communicator squawk registered.

“Captain Daria here.”

“Sandon, we have an encoded message coming through. You need
to report to the bridge.”

He grimaced and she gulped. “You go along, and I’ll grab
your order and bring it up.”

“Yeah, okay. I’ll take your coffee then.”

Handing over her cup seemed a whole lot more intimate than
she’d ever experienced, and watching him leave the galley, she was left with
the impression others had drawn the same conclusions.

Gorthos moved in her direction, both hands laden with
plates. “The captain…”

“Something came up on the bridge. I’ll take both of these
and make sure he gets it.”

“But… Levia?”

She hated what she had to say next. “Gorthos, I know of the Aparvee.
I’m not the one you want though. I’m not emotionally committed to you like that,
and I know that once I entered into it with you, it would be a life-long
connection, and I can’t sustain that. It’s not about you, Gorthos.”
If only
I had the right words to explain it.
Leaning a little closer, she caught
his gaze. “You deserve someone who will give everything for you, and I can’t.”
She shrugged, feeling lame as she tried to explain without hurting his
feelings.

The shimmering of his scales stilled, and she knew her words
distressed him, no matter how soft she tried to make the rejection.

“You’re a great guy, Gorthos. Just not the one for me, and
I’m not the girl for you.”

Before he could tell her she could be, she hurried out the
door and into the corridor.

Keeping her thoughts intentionally blank, she headed for the
bridge, balancing the plates. The conference table behind her sling was free of
items so she carefully slid them onto the glossy surface and took a seat.

Sandon stalked over to the table and threw himself into the
seat opposite her. His whole body radiated anger, and she leaned forward just a
fraction. “Something wrong?”

“You could say that. The officials from Omega V placed a
complaint.”

An icy cold trickle dribbled down her back. “About what?”

“You.”

“Ahhh.” She could well see what they were saying. That the
crew of the
Golden Echo
had knowingly brought a BioCybe to a class four
weapon-free planet in violation of their entry agreements.

If they were found guilty, the ship could be impounded,
she’d be locked away—and that was always her greatest fear—and Sandon could
lose everything. The possibilities certainly made her feel ill.

“So?” She waited and knew he understood her question when
his head bowed over his plate.

With a fork, he dug around in the mass of food, not eating,
just playing. “When we reach Juranaa, we are to present ourselves to the
headquarters of the Private Militia Association.”

The cold trickle turned to a frozen lump lodged deep in her
chest. “Who laid the complaint?”

“I don’t know.”

She guessed it was one of those inside the brig. Maybe the
big guy with the scar on his face, the one who’d first applied a fist to her
face, the one who’d reminded her of someone, but she couldn’t place who.
“Damn.”

“Yeah.”

* * * *

The last few days had been manic as Sandon prepared the
defense. The one question that worried him the most was if they asked if he’d
known she was a BioCybe. There’d be no other answer he could give; knowing he
probably faced the possibility of a mind probe, should they be inclined. He’d
have to tell the truth, and that would damn Levia.

“Closing on Juranaa, Captain. We will be reaching orbital
position in the next three hours.”

If he hadn’t known better, he’d say she was confident and
comfortable.
If I didn’t know better…
That summed it up for him. Now
that he understood her, he could see the cracks beneath the surface. She hid
her fears, brutally subduing them behind the icy façade, and kept herself
aloof.

“Fine.” By the time they took position in orbit, he would be
on the bridge, supporting her. Sandon told himself it was no more than he’d do
for anyone else. Wasn’t it? But even as he gazed out over the dark star field,
he knew he was running from the truth.

* * * *

Planting her feet on the surface of Juranaa brought a moment
of fear. Levia had already made arrangements for the unloading of the cargo,
the remains of the many soldiers from Omega V. She wasn’t even sure right now
if she counted her blessings whether or not she was among the load.

The sun beat down, the masking of her theatrical makeup
clogging the pores of her skin, and the suit she wore, hiding the implants and
enhancements, tightened painfully.

“Let’s get this over with, shall we?” Sandon said, startling
her.

Turning in his direction, she wondered why he’d stuck close
beside her. Their placement in orbit then the flight of their shuttle, he’d
been almost
off-putting
—the way he’d stayed on the bridge and followed
her about.

For a brief moment, she allowed herself to pretend he was
worried about her, wanting to be with her, and then she laughed it away
silently. No one wanted a BioCybe. No matter that he’d kissed her; it was a
momentary lapse of reason.

The stamping of several pairs of feet claimed her attention.
Three men, wearing the official uniform of the Private Militia Association,
towered over her. Their faces bore the hard and darkly forbidding visage of a
warrior. She swallowed the instinctive fear that rose. They were there because
of her.

“Captain Daria? You are to come with me and bring…” The
man’s words died away, as if he were unsure how to refer to her.

The feel of Sandon’s hand curling around hers was shocking,
but welcome. She held on, needing the reassurance, as they followed the men
along the walkway. Several tall buildings lay ahead, the middle one, white and
unmistakably ugly, was their destination. She knew it well. It was the building
where she’d been registered after the completion of her training and enhancements.
The place where she’d been tested psychologically and found sound after the
trials she’d overcome.

“Has anyone given you any details—” Sandon addressed the
men, but only one turned back, the broadest shouldered and largest of the
three.

“We are not at liberty to divulge any information.”

The bottom dropped out of Levia’s stomach.
Not at
liberty… Code word for ‘we know and aren’t telling’.
It was a term she
herself had used in the past.

The closer they came to the edifice, the more her heart raced
and panic rose. She thrust it aside. Less than three years after her final
mission and she was beset by nerves. How could this be? How could she have lost
her ability to cope so quickly? Ascending the steps reminded her of attending
an execution. Shame it just happened to be her own.

“Captain? If this goes wrong… In my shuttle, you’ll find—”

He stopped, the tug of his hand in hers dragging her back so
that she almost overbalanced. “It’ll be fine.” She detected the slight tremor
in his words though and knew he was uncertain.

“No. If I am…” Hunting for the right word soured her stomach
further. “If I’m deactivated, I want you to find the papers. The lock sequence
is the same as password into the
Echo’s
systems.” She straightened and
looked him in the eye.

The paleness of his visage, and the fine lines at his mouth
told her he labored under the strain. At least as a human, the worst that could
happen was the loss of the
Golden Echo
. Bad enough, but didn’t mean
execution. He’d survive. That was the main thing.

“Damn it, Levia—”

She dug deep and the stark terror that had lashed her melted
away as she activated the emotion controls within her brain. This was one of
the few times she was thankful for all the chips they’d integrated in her
brain.

Of course Sandon didn’t understand the ramifications of the
hearing ahead, but she did. Once they entered the building, things would
change. She’d be taken to a different room where they’d access the neural
monitoring system, looking for information. She had to prepare now. Disentangling
her hand, she drew away.

He reached out, and that single act nearly broke through the
wall of icy control she dragged around herself. “Once we’re inside, they’ll
take you to a different room.”

“What?”

“I will undergo the Neural Penetration test while they
interview you.” There was a surprising kick from the revulsion that crossed his
face, and she tried harder to put it behind her. But it hurt. She breathed
through the pain of his reaction, before casting a look under her eyelashes at
him. “Just be honest in your answers. Tell them everything you know.”

As the doors swung open, he reached for her, but she pulled
back, not sure that she could survive if he touched her.

“Good luck, Sandon.”

Entering the building, an armed contingent waited, and she
stopped, aware that her every move was being watched.

“Levia Endrado, reporting as requested.”

“Levia…” His voice tugged at her, dragging her emotions to
the surface. Burning pinpricks scalded her eyes, but she refused to let the
tears form.

Knowing the next words she spoke could very well be her last
to him, she was determined to give him a memory of the strong woman she’d
become. The one he’d integrated into his crew on the
Golden Echo
.
“Sandon, go with them. Tell them the truth.” She gifted him with a smile before
she turned away. If this was her end, she’d face it like a fighter—with her
eyes wide open.

The phalanx of soldiers surrounded her and she gave a nod to
the forbidding man who’d met them at the shuttle. “I’m ready.”

He didn’t speak, just ascended another set of stairs with a
squeak of his shoes and marched, while a smaller contingent fell in behind him.
Together, they entered a room with two doors. Hers led to a smaller cubicle
with a reclining consultation chair, the head obscured by a bulbous hood,
masses of diagnostic wires hanging down.

“Take a seat, Cadet Seven-One-Four.”

Automatically, she slid into the chair, realizing she’d
instantly responded to her designation.

A door opened and several techs entered the room. Levia
ignored them, letting her mind wander. She’d always hated this routine. The
feel of hands hunting through her hair so they could find the inputs hidden in
her scalp was something she’d become somewhat accustomed to. The sliding of the
wires into the ports she ignored.

“Right then. We shall begin. Cadet Seven-One-Four, I am
going to ask you about the repatriation mission you were sent on to Omega V.”