Morgan's Choice (43 page)

“
Let go, Morgan. We’ll be wonderful
together, you and I.”

“
No we fucking won’t.
You
let go. Get out of my head.” The words were
defiance, nothing more. She didn’t know how much longer she would
be able to resist. Fog clogged her senses, drifted around her
synapses.

Another savage lunge, but off-target this
time. “
They
will not destroy me. It is impossible
.”

Morgan heard the entity’s fury, as though
she spoke through gritted teeth. Ah. A sliver of hope. They must be
attacking.
Please, please defeat her, destroy her
. She held out.

One last desperate plea.
“
They are
primitives. They will destroy you, too.
”

The fog lifted so suddenly Morgan blinked.
Artemis was gone. She relaxed and let the tension drain from her
body. Sleep. She needed to sleep.

****

Ravindra’s
sanvad
chirped. He glanced down at it. The doctor. He swallowed
and answered. “Ravindra.”

“
Admiral, you said to call if
Suri
Selwood’s situation
changed.”

Hurry up, man. “Yes. And?”

“
She is sleeping peacefully,
Srimana
. We
don’t know what changed.”

But I do
. Still, how could he be sure that the
intelligence in her body was Morgan or Artemis? He grinned. There
was a way; but he wanted to be there to be sure.

“She must not be allowed to wake up unless I
am there.”

He looked again at the battered hulk of
the mother ship. Three thousand years. Whatever that meant. He’d
have to ask Morgan when she had recovered. So many astounding
things to consider. This machine intelligence, the temple below the
mountain. And Morgan herself. So many questions.

“Set course for Krystor, Captain,” Ravindra
said. “We have a mess to clean up.”

Chapter
Forty-Nine

Ravindra leaned over the bed. She’d been
installed in a single room, reserved for the critically ill. One
way or the other, she’d be out of here in an hour at most. She
looked so peaceful lying there. The monitors standing behind her
registered normal and the medics had given her an antidote for the
sedative. Soon he would know if the woman behind those silver eyes
was his own Morgan. Or an alien
machine intelligence. He swallowed, nerves on edge. He had
his pistol with him. If this was Artemis, he would kill it. Because
it could only be Artemis if what was Morgan was dead.
Please, please let
it be Morgan
.

Her eyelashes flickered on her cheeks.

“Morgan?”

Silver lines appeared under half-open lids.
“Ashkar?”

His heart gave a little fillip. “How do you
feel?”

She opened her eyes a little more. “I need
the toilet. And a drink.” She pulled her weight up on her elbows.
“Still tired, but I don’t feel bad.”

She swung her legs, one at a time, over the
edge of the bed and sat up, hands on each side.

He longed to help her, but he didn’t. She
stood, a little unsteady. “This is the washroom, I expect,” she
said, walking toward the closed door.

“Leave the door open.”

She glanced over her shoulder at him but did
as he asked.

She used the toilet, washed her hands and
brushed her teeth. Staring at herself in the mirror she rubbed a
hand through her hair. “Yuck. It needs a wash.”

She came back and stood beside the bed to
pour water from a flask and drink.

He smiled, weak with relief. She’d done all
those bodily things without a thought, perfectly naturally. He
pulled her down onto his lap.

“Morgan. Morgan, my love, welcome back.” His
arms around her, he kissed her, tasting the astringent tooth gel.
Not passionately. Not now. Although he wanted to. He nibbled her
lips, flicked his tongue between them. The shapeless hospital gown
was open at the back and his hands slipped over her skin. He could
tear it off her in a moment. He longed to do just that.

She put her arms around his neck, pressed
against him, warm and alive. “Yes, it’s me. But how can you be
certain?”

“Artemis wouldn’t be very good at handling a
body, would she?”

“Not on her own, no.” She brushed his lips
with hers. “Pretty smart, Admiral. So we’re still friends?” She
snuggled herself against his chest.

“Friends? I hoped we were lovers.”

He felt her smile. “I guess so.” She sighed.
“Life’s too short to worry about what might happen next. It’s
better to have loved and lost and all that.”

He pushed her away so he could see her face.
“What are you talking about, woman? Has this to do with whatever
happened at Riverport when you raised shields at maximum
power?”

“Like you said. You can have any woman you
want and I was a challenge. Until the next challenge.”

His arms tightened around her. “Oh yes? And
what will the next challenge be? Someone to compete with a legend?
A beautiful, bio-engineered enigma who can take my breath away with
her brilliance and screw like a tart? Who loves me in spite of
despising what I am? Who is the only woman I have ever loved? Or
will you find a man who suits you better? Someone like Unwyn, who
found your unusual appearance every bit as repulsive as I do?”

She lifted her head to look into his eyes.
“You were jealous.”

“Of course. I saw the way he looked at you.
Was he more than a friend?” He braced himself for the answer.

She chuckled. “No. I messed about a bit
because Lakshmi fancied him. Maybe I might have been interested,
but this tall, amber-eyed admiral kept getting in the way.”

He sucked in a huge breath. The silver eyes
were not as bright as they could be and darkness rimmed them. “You
still look tired. Sleep, my love. I have to go and do my job on
Krystor. I’ll be back as soon as I can for that too-often postponed
conversation.”

One last kiss and he released her. The sooner
Krystor was under control, the sooner he could come back and make
love to her.

****

Morgan kept her eyes closed. Let’s see
now. Not that funny med center smell. Not a jungle, or a pilot’s
seat. The sheets felt nice. They smelled nice, too. She opened her
eyes and looked around. Well, well. The state room on
Vidhvansaka
. She
had been re-installed.

Not without company, though. Calculating
green eyes looked down at her from a chair placed next to a
monitoring unit. A medic. “So am I all better?”

The woman smiled. “It would seem so,
according to the monitor. How do you feel?”

Morgan raised herself on her elbows. “Good.
Hungry.” She swung the sheet off her body and sat on the edge of
the bed. Her head felt normal. No headache, no dizziness. And no
oppressive darkness lurking in the corners.

“Do you need help?”

“No, I’m fine. I expect I’ll be tired for a
little while. Speaking of which, how long have I slept?”

“Almost a day.”

Good grief. “Uh-huh. Can you order me some
food? I’ll take myself off to the washroom.”

She reveled in the hot water, lathering her
hair and her body. So good to be really clean again. Ah, the joys
of having a body. In a way she felt sorry for Artemis. She’d been
built to do a job. Thousands of years of… nothing. Now all those
threads were coming together into a tapestry. Artemis, the Cyber
Wars, the Krystor Temple. And her. She rinsed her hair.

The medic had ordered food, a light meal of
cereal and fruit. Clean, dry, in her own pants and shirt, Morgan
flicked through the channels to find a news broadcast to watch
while she ate and ended up with what little the ship’s media
officers had released. Boring. Pictures of heavy assault carriers
launching, some of fighters, smiling pilots, determined troopers.
Fleet propaganda. Some things never changed. A few shots of
Ravindra, too, in fleet camouflage armor, saying reassuring things
to the locals and his own troops, handing out medals. He looked
very much the admiral, very much in charge. She couldn’t wait to
see him again. For more than kisses.

The medic hovered, waiting to carry out
some final tests. A last check through the monitor’s data and she
bowed. “There is nothing more I can do for you,
Suri
. All you need is food and rest. With your
permission, I will return to my unit.”

“Of course. Are there many casualties?”

The medic’s eyes were troubled. “The
ship’s hospital is also caring for the most severely injured
civilians.” She cleared her throat and waved a hand at a
sanvad
lying on the table. “You are to
call Admiral Ravindra.” A bow and she was gone.

Yes, Sir, three bags full,
Sir
. Morgan connected to
the communicator without picking it up and sent the id.

He answered immediately. “How are you?”

“Fine. How are things on the ground? Are you
winning?”

His voice was impersonal, distant. “We
are. But the
Yogina
continue
to fight.”

“They’re programmed to fight. They won’t stop
until they’re dead. I expect they’re not getting any strategic
direction anymore.”

“Can you broadcast a ‘stop’ order? Something
my troops can carry?”

She hadn’t thought of that. “Yes, I can.”

“Do that. Now. Report to SenComm
Hanestran.”

Well, wasn’t this romantic?
“
Srimana
.”

He ended the call.

She pulled on her boots, feeling vaguely
disappointed. Idiot. What had she expected?
The man’s an admiral and he’s
fighting a battle.
And I’m a Supertech
. Even so, she’d hoped for a little more.
Oh, for goodness
fucking sake. Stop being a girl and go and do your job.

She grabbed the communicator, stuck it on her
belt and went off to find Hanestran. He stood as soon as she
entered his office and bowed from the waist. Well, well. He
wouldn’t have done that a few months ago.

“
Suri
Selwood. Admiral Ravindra told me to expect you.”
His eyes flicked over her clothes. He frowned, licking his lips.
“Perhaps you should wear a jacket. I can have one—”

She almost rolled her eyes. The shirt fitted
properly, it was comfortable and it was hers. If he thought she
looked like a tart, too bad. “I’m not cold, SenComm. Admiral
Ravindra has a job for us. Let’s do it.”

Ignoring the stares and incredulous looks she
walked through the workshop to the banks of computers. Programming
the function only took a few minutes. She had it seared on her
implants, after all. “I’d suggest a general broadcast from space,
constantly repeated. If you set the signal going from the three
ships and at the same time deploy a network of small satellites,
you’ll get maximum coverage with the least amount of effort.”

She waited while they installed the function
on a test transmitter and ensured the correct signal was being
sent.

“How will we be sure it works?” Hanestran
said.

She shrugged. “When the
Yogina
stop. Let me know if they
don’t.” She swiveled on her heel and walked out. It would work. No
doubt about it.

****

Back in her state room, Morgan retrieved the
data Artemis had sent her, the log of her travels. Thousands and
thousands of entries. Star names, planet names that would mean
nothing even if she could read the script. But if these were
numbers and this last entry was Krystor’s sun Hathi… She knew
Artemis had visited Andreena and Dilmar. She knew the distances
between them. She lay down on the couch and started work.

A diffident knock pulled her back into the
physical world. Ravindra? No. He never knocked. Besides, he wasn’t
on the ship. “Come.”

Tullamarran stepped inside, bowing.
“
Suri
Selwood, Admiral Ravindra
wishes you to dine with him in his quarters.”

A sensual shiver ran through her. Dine with
him, huh? A bit more than that, she’d bet. “Fine. When?”

“
Two hours,
Suri
.”

“Thank you, Tullamarran. I’ll be there.”

He bowed. “Thank you for bringing him back
to us,
Suri
.” He spoke
softly. One swift glance at her and he turned away.

Morgan gazed after him. A despotic autocrat,
yes. But a little bit different.

****

One more check in the mirror. Hair brushed
and shiny. She tweaked the dress again, her own flexi-dress set to
her favorite mid blue. And if he didn’t like it, too bad. And if he
did, terrific. She crossed the corridor, chin held high.
Tullamarran opened the door for her.

Ravindra, wearing his normal black uniform,
rose when she came in. The scar on his face had almost healed, not
much more than a line. His glance traveled over her slowly,
lingering. His eyes positively smoldered and she could feel the
heat spreading through her body, her nipples tightening.

“Are you recovered?” he said.

“Yes.” Her heart thundered as he leaned
toward her and brushed her lips with his. “This will have to do
until after we’ve eaten,” he whispered. “I do not wish to be weak
with hunger.”

She grinned. “That would never do. Better eat
quickly, though.” She cleared her throat. “Did the broadcast
work?”