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Bk 2 Ch 32 - Threat of a Honeymoon

Bk 2 Ch 32 - Threat of a Honeymoon

November 11, 2361 AIA

The Golondrina

Reyer was sitting in the captain’s chair, staring out at the stars. The first she knew Vas was there was when he put a warm mug into her cold hands.

“That’s the last cup of tea,” he said. “You should savor it.”

Alix closed her fingers around the mug to enjoy the luxurious heat. “And I packed extras too.”

“We never expected to be out this long.” Vas settled on the deck between the empty copilot chair and the pilot’s seat.

“Home Base must be frantic by now.” Reyer ran a finger around the rim of her mug. “We should check in.”

Vas didn’t answer.

She lifted her eyes to watch him. “You’re not going to, are you?”

“No,” he said.

“Thank you.”

“I never thought there’d be a day when you’d thank me for breaking rules.”

“We both know what would happen if they heard from us.”

The captain hummed his agreement as he took a sip of coffee. “Yeah, I don’t think the Rising would be excited about what we’re doing.

“Trying to rescue someone who’s probably already dead?”

Vas hesitated, but then nodded.

“Then it’s a good thing they don’t know,” Reyer said.

“You know, I’m going to get blamed for this, and no one will believe me if I try to tell them it was the infallible Miss Reyer who insisted on it.”

Joseph called out from the main cabin: “I would’ve believed you, Captain.”

“Thank you, Tate.” Vas winked at Reyer. “He likes me better.”

“I know. Maybe I’m the one who should be jealous.”

Vas was too tired to smile, but he felt the attempt of one pull on his cheek. When he looked up at Reyer, she was staring out the viewport again.

“Ciro thinks he’s found a way to get to Kumar,” he said.

“He is Wonder Boy.”

“But it’ll be risky.”

“So you’re looking forward to it?”

“I didn’t say that. What kind of an idiot do you take me for?”

“A cheerful one,” Reyer said. Vas was about to say something, but she quickly added, “But not such an idiot that you’d try to talk me into staying back on the ship again.”

The captain shut his mouth and shook his head. “Yeah. That would be idiotic, wouldn’t it?” He lifted her hand from the arm of the chair and kissed her fingertips. “Am I allowed to nag you?”

“Is there a way to stop you?”

“Please be careful.”

“I promise, Adan.”

A discreet cough drew their attention. Joseph was standing at the bottom of the short flight of stairs. He was carrying a pile of papers.

Vas let go of Reyer’s hand. “Tate.”

Joseph jerked his head toward the copilot’s seat. “If you’re not using it…”

The captain moved his legs so it’d be easier for Tate to get past him.

Once Tate was sitting down, Vas said, “You’ve finished going through the papers?”

“All of them are scanned into a digital file, but I haven’t been able to read them all yet.” Joseph held up a pile of papers. “But I think I found everything that talked about numbers, and I went through all the human-xeno profiles.”

“Did you learn anything?”

Tate took a deep breath before he answered. “There was a lot more going on than Gardner thought.”

“Was Sipos lying?” Vas asked.

“About how many human-xenos he created? No, I don’t think so. Fable copied down all the useful information from Sipos’s journals before they were destroyed. Sipos only mentioned the twelve he’d turned into humans.”

“And the rest?”

“Fable created them. When he went through Sipos’s home, he found the rest of the untransformed xenos Sipos had taken before he set fire to the lab. The general took custody of them and appointed a team of scientists and other specialists to weaponize them.” Tate shook his head. “Dr. Jane didn’t know the half of it. They tortured and killed human-xenos to find out what they could withstand. Some were assaulted as they were transforming to see if they could be killed before they took form. When they thought they could control them, they started processing them though four bodies, bringing them close to sentience, and then waiting until they found an ideal candidate—someone with a special skill set, or a Rising prisoner. That would be their final incarnation before they were sent to Gardner.” He fell silent.

“How many people were killed?” Reyer asked.

“Over two-hundred.”

The captain felt numb. “Do you think Gardner knew?”

Alix pulled the nan-card from her pocket. It seemed strange to her that she didn’t know whose blood was on it. “We know what Gardner knew. I don’t think he wanted to know more.”

“How many human-xenos survived, Tate?” Vas asked. “How many do we have to worry about?”

“I don’t know. Fable and Gardner were both careful to keep track of all the ones that were created, but we know of at least four that aren’t in their files: Bray, Jonathan Peak, Sarah Meir, and the blond woman that attacked Dr. Jane. If there are four that don’t even show up in the records, there could be more.”

Vas grit his teeth and put a hand to his forehead.

“It’s all right, Adan,” Alix assured him.

“How could this possibly be all right?” he demanded.

“The original exploration team only brought back so many untransformed xenos,” Tate said. “Sipos counted sixty-eight of them. It’ll take a lot of time and reading, but we should be able to get an idea of how many might be out there—”

“Someone, somewhere screwed up! Who was it? Where did they come from? If those records are wrong, we have to assume that there might be sixty-eight human-xenos.”

“Assume the worst?” The captain looked up when he heard the lilt of Alix’s teasing voice. She was smiling at him—a tiny arc of her lips . “That’s not like you, Adan. Where’s my incorrigible optimist?”

The edge of his own lips twitched. “Sorry, troublemaker. It’s been a hard day.”

“I think that we can trust the record of the experiments,” Tate said. “The xenos were killed under controlled circumstances and carefully observed. If any disappeared, they were probably from among the human-xenos that were allowed to live.”

“How many did they make?” Reyer asked.

“According to these records, thirty.”

“Only thirty?”

“That’s thirty that they considered complete.”

“What does that mean?” Vas asked.

“I think that means they were fully sentient and capable of obeying orders,” Alix said.

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Tate went on, “The incomplete ones were slaughtered and counted when Fable found out Harlan had betrayed them. They even destroyed the last of the untransformed matter.”

“Gardner said he only sent twenty-eight out on missions.”

Tate flipped through several pages before he found the paper he was looking for. He pulled it out and turned it around so Vas and Reyer could see it. In the top right corner, there was a picture of an older man with graying hair.

“Sipos gave four of his first generation xenos second bodies as part of his experiments. One showed much more advanced cognitive ability than the others, so Sipos focused his studies on that one. By the time Gardner found him out, that xeno had already been through several human transformations. When Fable took her into custody, she was lucid enough they thought they could use an interrogator.”

The captain felt as if a ghost blew on the back of his neck. He passed the paper on to Alix.

“They brought in a Supremacy specialist,” Tate said. “Colonel Jack Kervik Harlan.”

Reyer remembered that night on the ship—Jane, clutching her tablet with both her hands.

“That’s not the first video of xenos that I’ve seen. I uncovered a video that has someone interviewing a xeno—a human-xeno, obviously—and you see it transform in the video. It looked exactly like that.”

“What did the human-xeno transform into?”

“The person interviewing it.”

Tate was still talking: “The xeno-Harlan agreed to help them if they’d stop killing his kind. They never sent him out on missions. He was too precious. He was the only one the xenos would obey.”

“He was their leader,” Vas muttered. He looked up at Reyer. “Peak said he came to us under Harlan’s orders.”

“But Fable and Gardner didn’t know about Jonathan Peak,” Alix said. “Harlan had control of xenos they seemed to know nothing about. And we know he was using his authority over Project 32 to try and find their home planet. They didn’t know about that either.”

“You think Harlan created those xenos so he could use them?” Tate asked.

“I don’t know if I’m right—”

“But that’s what you think,” Vas said.

Reyer nodded and handed the sheet back to Tate. “Who was the other human-xeno that Gardner didn’t send out?”

“You already know him.” Tate pulled out a creased paper and passed it to her. Vas only needed a glimpse of the photo to recognized the shooter from Geonon One. “He’s their ultimate weapon. He was trained by the Supremacy military but left the service to become the most elusive contract killer in the galaxy. When they finally caught him, they sentenced him to a lifetime in prison.”

“I bet I know which prison.” Alix sighed.

“They already had a promising xeno waiting for a final transformation.”

“And they gave him to Devi Kumar. Not Gardner.” Reyer looked up. “Why?”

Before either Vas or Tate could venture a guess, they were interrupted.

“Master Ciro,” Lynx said, “it has been twelve hours since the last time your bandage was changed.”

The bot was sitting on the middle bench with wires bridging the short distance between him and the computer system Ciro was using. Despite the fact the robot had spoken loud enough to catch the attention of everyone in the cockpit, the younger Vas hadn’t seemed to hear him.

“Master Ciro—”

“Not now, Lynx.” Ciro didn’t even glance up from his screens.

“Lynx,” Vas called, “remove the tablets and restrain him.” The captain got to his feet.

“Wait! Wha—Hey!” Ciro grunted as Lynx grabbed his shoulders.

“You haven’t already forgotten the agreement, have you, Ciro?” Vas went down the stairs.

“Dammit!”

When Alix started to stand, Tate rose and put his hand on her shoulder. “We’ll get it this time.”

“Thank you.” She sank back into the pilot’s chair.

Tate joined the captain down on the main deck. Vas pulled out the first-aid kit. Lynx was pinning Ciro’s shoulders against the bulkhead.

“This is stupid,” Ciro grumbled. “That bot is mine!”

“But you programmed him to obey my orders, and he also happens to be on my side.”

“The captain is right, Master Ciro,” Lynx said. “I am programmed to look after your well-being, as well as your brother’s, and you did give your word that you would take care of your injury.”

Vas pulled out one of many med-wraps they’d stockpiled, and handed it to Tate. “Do everything Dr. Mullen says. No skipping. No half-assed measures—”

Ciro joined in for the last line, “And no delays.” He could only lean his head forward since his shoulders weren’t going anywhere. “It would’ve only been one minute.”

“Master Ciro,” Lynx said, “I thought you knew what the word ‘delay’ meant. Do you need me to define it for you?”

Vas moved the blanket off his brother’s legs. “I think you can let him up now, Lynx. We got the point across.”

Tate stood by to hold the tube of chemical seal and take away the old wrap when Vas was done removing it.

“I was right there,” Ciro said to his brother.

“You’ll be ‘right there’ again in a minute.”

“I’ve found her home—her personal home, Adan!”

Reyer called from the cockpit, “You’re not a puppy, you’re a bloodhound.”

Vas leaned over to roll the bandage under Ciro’s leg. “The galaxy’s most technologically advanced dog. It makes me proud to be your brother.”

A short beep distracted Ciro from whatever answer he might have come up with.

A voice came from the on-board com: “Golondrina, this is Base Center. This is a call out for the Golondrina.”

Vas paused, the chemical seal only half applied.

Ciro mouthed, “They found us.”

“Golondrina,” it repeated, “this is Base Center. This is a call out for the Golondrina.”

Reyer reached forward and snatched up the remote speaker microphone so Base Center couldn’t hear their conversation.

“How—” Tate started.

“It’s Liu,” Ciro muttered. “Damn, he’s getting good.”

“Stop teaching people how to find me!” Vas hissed.

“What do we do, Captain?” Alix asked.

Before Adan could decide, the voice came again.

“Golondrina, this is—”

There was a scuffle sound, a moment of silence, white noise, and then a much different, much louder voice came on.

“Captain Adan Vas, you pick up your com this instant or I swear I will hunt you down if I have to walk to your ship!”

Tate’s heart stalled. “Is that—”

“General Falk,” Vas said.

“Captain!” Falk yelled over the speaker.

Reyer pressed down the side button and said into the mic, “Hello, Grandpa.”

They couldn’t quite make out the next string of words, but by the tone, they guessed it wouldn’t be used in polite society.

“Hello, baby-girl.” The words came out resigned and weary.

“It’s good to hear from you,” Reyer said.

“It’s good to hear from you too. Are you all right?”

“It’s been rough, but I’m alive and no more injured than normal.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Could you put Captain Vas on the line please? I need to kill him.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but the captain is busy at the moment.”

“Doing what?”

“Tending to Ciro’s leg wound. We have to rewrap it and check the seal every twelve hours as the flesh is growing back.”

“Why does Mr. Vas have a wound that requires flesh to regrow?”

“I did say it had been rough.”

“What the hell’s been going on?!”

“Oh, you want a report?”

“Yes, I want a report! Why do you think I wasted three days trying to find you?!”

Now Vas understood why Falk didn’t usually bother yelling at Reyer. The general might as well have spared his voice for all the good it was doing; she was completely unfazed.

“General Emery Gardner is in a coma.”

There was no response.

She went on, “He was shot by an assassin while in our custody. Right now he’s at a hospital on P73, and he’s completely dependent on life-support machines to sustain him. The doctors give him less than a two-percent chance of ever waking up. I’m sorry, General. The mission failed.”

“What were you doing near P73? You were sent to P41.”

“It’s a long story, Grandpa.”

“It should be! It has to cover the weeks that have passed without you sending us so much as a ping! You either altered your mission plans without consulting us, or you decided it would be faster to crawl rather than use velox! If the mission is over, get that pathetic ship back to Home Base—now! I’ll take the full report outside the brig where Captain Vas will be staying until he dies of old age!”

“I’m requesting leave on behalf of Captain Adan Vas.”

“What!”

“I’m requesting—”

“I heard you the first time! What do you think you’re doing?”

“Well, if he’s going to spend the rest of his life in the brig, I think a little vacation—”

“Don’t you dare get smart with me, young lady! What’s going on?”

“Grandpa, Dr. Jane’s been taken. We think we know who has her—”

“Dr. Jane has regularly refused any help or association with the Rising—”

Reyer had to raise her voice to be heard over Falk’s shouting. “It’s about the xenos! Something’s going on.”

“Then get your ass back here faster so you can request a mission and get it approved!”

“I’m sorry, Grandpa, that’ll take too long. We’d lose a minimum of six days of travel.”

“I’m not going to authorize a mission by myself! I happen to like my rank!”

“I didn’t ask for a mission. I requested leave.”

“Denied! Get back here!”

“Is there an emergency where you need all hands?”

“There doesn’t have to be! I gave you an order!”

“I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t take orders from you anymore.”

This time they could clearly hear the swearing. “This is why I wanted to talk to Vas!”

“Why would you refuse to give him leave? I know he’s earned over a month’s worth of down time. And it only takes one general to approve—”

“I don’t care how much he’s earned! I can deny leave for any reason!”

“Not if it’s special circumstances.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Captain Vas and I are married.” There was a noise behind her. Reyer ignored it. “I’m requesting the standard honeymoon leave of two weeks.”

“The hell you are!”

“You’re supposed to say congratulations and wish us the best.”

“If that goddamn captain of yours married you without so much as inviting me, he won’t live two weeks! It’ll only take me three days to find him and gut him!”

“That’s fine. In the meantime, you can only refuse a leave of special circumstances if there’s a state of emergency, eminent emergency, or an important mission that requires their specialized skills. You have lots of pilots.”

“Only his neck fits so well in my hands!”

“You can vent your anger on other soldiers, Grandpa. Don’t pretend it’s reserved solely for my husband.”

“Alix Avril Reyer, you will answer me, and you will tell me the truth! Did you really marry Captain Vas?!”

She didn’t respond immediately. The silent audience behind Reyer thought they could almost hear the general’s blood pressure rising.

“Not yet,” she said, “but we aren’t far from several free-planes.”

There was a silence that was roughly long enough for someone to take several deep breaths.

“Alix—” Falk said.

“You think I won’t do it, Grandpa? You can choose to grant Captain Vas’s general leave request, or we’ll sign a few papers and start the lousiest honeymoon in the history of the galaxy.”

“The captain’s request for general leave is granted. You have two weeks. Inform us if you need more time. Don’t you dare get married! And when you get home, we are going to have a long talk about your persuasion techniques, baby-girl.”

There was a blip when the connection was cut. Reyer put the mic in its cradle and sat back in her chair.

A moment later:

“Sarge, you know how as your second I’m supposed to check you?”

“What did I do this time, Tate?” Reyer said.

“It’s not nice to toy with a man’s heart like that.”

“It serves him right for denying a simple leave request.”

There was a slapping sound when Tate’s palm hit his forehead.

Ciro called out, “He wasn’t talking about Falk, Alix.”

Reyer turned. Adan was standing behind her chair. His fingers were pressing into the elevated deck of the cockpit. She couldn’t make out his expression.

“Oh,” she said. “Right. I probably should’ve talked to you first.”

“That would have been the polite thing to do,” Adan said.

“Don’t worry. I knew Falk would never force me to marry you.”

“That’s not making me feel better, Alix.”

“But I got you leave!”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

Lynx said, “I thought your strategy was very efficient, Miss Reyer.”

Vas turned and pointed to the bot. “You, shut up.”

“Would this be an appropriate circumstance in which to use the phrase ‘mazel tov?’”

“Lynx!”