Fusion (Crimson Romance) (22 page)

• • •

The last thing Lyra saw before leaving was the way the two men longingly gazed at each other. She was both amazed and horrified by how easily Soldar had orchestrated the entire scenario. Had she not know the man, she’d swear he was a damned traitor.

She was well on her way back to their quarters, safe for the moment and so long as Sol adequately serviced D’uhr. Still, if she needed backup, her Craetorian partner was stuck in his current situation, and there was no way she or Aigean could extract him. Something told her he’d be furious if anyone tried.

Her one consolation to being left alone among the enemy was in having obtained the medicine.

She concentrated on getting the medicine to the ship’s med-tech and silently prayed for a man who was either the bravest warrior she’d ever met or the craziest.

Soldar was probably sleeping with that filthy bastard even now, but he’d intended to do that all along. That had been his primary mission. His actions tonight, however objectionable they might seem, could save allied lives. As he’d said, this
was
his choice.

“Christ, it’d better be worth it!” she muttered to herself.

Her fingers closed around the vial, and she forced herself to not think about what D’uhr might do to Soldar. She had to get the bottle to the wounded, and she picked up her pace to make short work of this important task.

Lyra couldn’t dispel the feeling that some greater power was watching over her every action. Even now a friendly figure stood in the passageway ahead of her. Gentis was working around a hover cart bearing clean linens, and there were no Condorians in sight.

She kept her voice low and made short work of stating her purpose.

“Gentis, can you direct me to the med-tech? I have some stuff she might need.” Lyra lifted the vial for the other woman to see.

“I believe she’s sleeping, mistress. But if you’ve obtained what I think you have, the last thing she’d care to do is rest.” She leaned closer. “Go down the second passageway to the right, turn left at your first opportunity. You’ll eventually come to a dead end. The med-tech will be in the space at the very end, right in front of you. Knock twice, pause, and then knock twice again. The more severely injured are in that room.”

Lyra quickly made her way to that space. Her knocks on the hatch were answered by one of Aigean’s blue-robed minions. He quickly let her inside and she pulled the vial from where she’d tucked it into her belt. “I conned this stuff from Kardis D’uhr. He says it’s an antibiotic. It needs to go straight to the med-tech, but I’d consider testing it first. The bastard hates my guts so it might just as easily be poison.”

The blue-robed man nodded energetically and quickly retreated to a darker interior of the large space.

Lyra assumed he was fetching the med-tech and that she was to wait. There seemed no harm in doing so since the admiral had clearly told her he didn’t care where she went or what she did. Still, she didn’t want to linger longer than necessary.

Gazing around, she noted that the space décor was much less ornate than her quarters, but much cleaner than D’uhr’s. The curtained areas where large pillow beds were located seemed to be illuminated by the same, dull red lighting. She could barely make out bodies lying within the bedclothes. The lack of luxury here would leave this part of the ship virtually abandoned by passengers. That meant this had to be servants’ quarters.

A rustling of fabric alerted her to someone’s presence. She stiffened and hadn’t realized she’d taken up a fighting stance when another blue-robed figure appeared. But when this person dropped the hood of their garment, Lyra gazed into the face of a beautiful woman who was humanoid and near her own age. This stranger’s short blonde curls were almost the same chin-length as her own.

When the female held out her hand in greeting and approached, the words she spoke almost brought Lyra to her knees.

“I’m Myranda Chase … Earth Corps Medical Unit, Division 1602B. Aigean told me there were allied undercover operatives aboard. But I didn’t think one would end up in this part of the ship,” she gushed.

“My God … you’re with Allied Forces …
Earth
?”

“I’ve been the med-tech for months.”

“But how the hell — ”

“My hospital transport was attacked. Our engines were damaged and we crash landed on a minor moon near Alpha Regina. The others on my ship didn’t make it, but I wasn’t banged up too badly,” Myranda explained. “I survived by hiding in the hillsides until the enemy headed into deep space. Shortly after that, Aigean moved her vessel into that system to look for survivors. That’s when her people found me. She had no Condorians aboard back then.”

“And you’ve been here ever since,” Lyra stated as she nodded in understanding.

“It was my luck to be rescued and Aigean’s to find me. She needed a med-tech so I took over until I could hook back up with an allied ship. Unfortunately, Kardis D’uhr raided first and I got stuck here. I’m
supposed
to be from Atnar System Ten.” She shrugged. “Olde Los Angeles is my real home.”

“Olde Chicago,” Lyra muttered by way of introduction, and then laughed when she realized she hadn’t actually introduced herself. “I’m Lyra Markham … Master Sergeant, Tenth Earth Regiment. And I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you!”

Ignoring the differences in their ranks, the two women exchanged a heartfelt hug before Lyra brought the subject back to their current dilemma.

“The antibiotic … will it help the survivors?”

“I was just testing that vial. The label is gone, but it looks like the stock that was in the ship’s dispensary before D’uhr took it,” Myranda stated. “The men need it badly, Lyra. They were hit hard with shrapnel.”

“I’ve been down that road a couple of times,” Lyra commiserated. “I know the pain.”

“Dirt and metal fragments did their job. We have a lot who’re suffering. The important thing is the most injured here have a chance … thanks to you. The contents of that vial were concentrated so I think there’ll be enough to go around. How did you get your hands on it, anyway?” Myranda asked. “I assumed someone stole it from D’uhr. But that’s not likely, is it?”

“No.” Lyra quickly explained her and Soldar’s sex duo charade. “D’uhr was so impressed by our act that he invited us to his quarters. He’s absolutely besotted with my partner and didn’t even take much notice of me.”

“I know he didn’t give that vial out of the kindness of his heart,” Myranda quipped.

Lyra winced and made a face. “I …
implied
… I had a nasty case of VD that was causing me discomfort. I hoped he’d tell his men and they’d stay clear of me.” She lifted one hand in resignation. “It’s not as though a Condorian would care, but it was the only thing I could think of at the time.”

“Talk about luck,” Myranda muttered as her eyes grew wide in shock.

“Not really. D’uhr did it as a favor to my partner. Like I said, the admiral took one look at the guy and drooled all over himself. That vial was a sort of a bribe to leave the two of them alone.”

Myranda stood there with a stupefied look on her face, then blinked and finally closed her gaping mouth. “You need to warn your friend, Lyra. Haven’t either of you seen the unusual markings on the Condorians? I understand you haven’t been here long, but surely you’ve seen what I’m talking about.”

“Markings?”

“There’s some kind of disease spreading through the Condorian ranks. So far, it hasn’t affected the prostitutes but that doesn’t mean it won’t, sooner or later.”

“And the good news just keeps coming,” Lyra uttered as she put her hands on her hips in disgust.

“Some weeks ago, several of D’uhr’s officers came to me, begging me to help them. And then D’uhr got a case of this strange disease, or so I’ve been told by Aigean’s staff.” Myranda snorted in derision.

“I couldn’t wish whatever it on a more deserving race,” Lyra shot back.

“Yeah, I know what you mean. The stuff seems to have been brought aboard by new officers who’re sleeping with one another. Aigean provides protection but the damned Condorians won’t use it.”

Lyra snapped her fingers. “Wait a minute. I did see something. The light in D’uhr’s quarters was frickin’ low, but there was this kind of red spot on the back of his hand. It had dark rings around it. Is that what you’re talking about?”

Myranda nodded. “What you’ve described are the same symptoms all the Condorians are displaying. I hear D’uhr won’t be seen outside the ship or his quarters because it’s spreading.”

“I hate to bring this up but … the Condorians haven’t tried anything with you, have they?” Lyra carefully asked.

“Not yet. I’m the only med-tech they’ve got since D’uhr’s was killed in battle. And though I’ve made it clear that they won’t get help if I’m molested, that small threat won’t last if they really want to kick in the hatch and do what they please. I think Aigean keeps feeding the Condorians booze and pills so they’ll be inclined to just lie around a lot and leave at least
some
of her people alone. So far, it’s working.” Myranda paused. “I won’t ever admit it to D’uhr, but I know very little about Condorian physiology. It may be that this crud is making him and his men intolerant to light. Other symptoms include fever and loss of mental acuity. But then that’s hard to quantify since they’re drinking, taking hallucinogens, and were never that sharp to begin with.”

“But it’s still not circulating among Aigean’s people … right?” Lyra asked.

“No,” Myranda reiterated. “But D’uhr can confiscate all the antibiotics he can get his thieving hands on. Though he’s convinced himself otherwise, it’s not going to do him any good.”

Lyra couldn’t help the sinister smile that spread across her face. “It’s that bad? Could the bastard die?”

Myranda snickered. “Don’t get your hopes up. It’s possible for it to disappear as quickly as it appeared. I only mentioned it in case you guys wanted to be careful. Assuming being careful is even possible when talking about Condorians.”

Lyra was torn between going back to warn Sol, or let the situation stand. If she showed up in D’uhr’s quarters again, the admiral would have her head cut off.

It didn’t make her final decision easier knowing she’d be required to have sex with a man who was sleeping with an infected Condorian. But she had to acknowledge that her concerns over any such issue really
were
moot. She figured their survival came down to a matter of hours or even minutes. D’uhr would soon discover what they’d done, if he hadn’t already.

After sending that message and having the surviving allied fighters smuggled aboard, everyone would be butchered. D’uhr would be so enraged that the Venus would be expendable. Aigean’s manipulating wouldn’t change anything.

For that reason, and because Soldar had made up his mind long before she’d run into that canyon, Lyra decided she couldn’t help him. But she might be able to comfort the injured before they were discovered and slaughtered. For the time they had left, the hidden wounded could at least have fresh water and food.

“Would it be possible to see the survivors?” she asked. “Maybe I could help. I’m sure you’ve been run off your feet.”

“And your partner? Won’t he worry about you?”

“He was prepared to die to get information.” She shook her head. “My partner made his bed, no pun intended. All we can do is act in the moment.”

Myranda lifted one hand and gestured for Lyra to follow. “Come with me. If you ever want to slip in and check on the wounded, I’ll find some excuse for you to be in this part of the ship. Just in case D’uhr’s men see you wandering. But pick times very late at night. When they’ve been partying and are in beds with their sex toys.”

“I’ll be careful,” Lyra promised. “The man I came in here with can do his thing. I’ll do mine.”

She followed Myranda into the recesses of the large space. Several men lay on pillow beds. Though they were a breath away from being discovered, it still felt good to know those soft mattresses were occupied by soldiers who deserved them.

As she walked behind Myranda and listened to her recite lists of their injuries, she noted that all of the fighters looked like they were from Earth. They’d probably been in her same division, now whittled down to almost nothing.

The injured here seemed very well cared for. Their bedclothes and bandages were clean even if they were remnants of sheets or old clothing. At least their bodies were free of the incessant red dust from outside.

When they got to the very back of the room, Myranda’s posture stiffened. She passed her hand over the illuminating wall unit and the lights came up if only just a little. She turned and concern was etched into her features. “I hid this man as far as I could from the hatch. Come closer and look at his face,” Myranda instructed.

When the med-tech moved aside, Lyra scooted closer to the bed. That’s when she saw what concerned her new friend so much.

As she looked down at this large, unconscious fighter, she saw the elongated, black lightning-like mark of a Craetorian warrior. It trailed down this man’s left cheek, just as Soldar’s did. His long, golden mane spread out over the bedding like a fan.

“The mark can be removed with a laser scalpel,” Myranda whispered, “but not until he’s better and I have time to do the job. It’s a precision-intensive process because it goes deep into his tissue.” Myranda bent to arrange the sheets around her patient’s shoulders.

“What about makeup?”

“Gentis tried it but it just didn’t look right. He’d have to walk around with it on all day, and have someone help him put it on. And then there’s his size, his bronze-colored skin, and musculature to consider. So you see … the mark is only part of the problem. I don’t know what race we could call him and still hide where he’s really from.”

Lyra stood there staring down at the injured man. Suspicion cemented her to the spot.

Something was wrong. She could feel it down to the soles of her feet. She recalled Soldar saying something about not having had the time to have his cheek mark removed. He’d said he’d been picked for the mission on very short notice, insisting the Condorians would accept him as is. But why would anyone at HQ choose an undercover operative whose facial markings, size, and coloring would put the mission at risk? As low as the allies were on fighters and if the mission could be deemed worthy at all, then Allied Command should have made time to bring in a covert agent who could pass himself off as a neutral citizen — exactly as she and Myranda were pretending to be.