I didn’t say banana? No, wait. That’s not it.
I’m talking cheese, not bananas.
Cheddar cheese in fact. I wanted to know why it is orange. I didn’t think cows gave orange milk. Except apparently it turned out that grass-fed cows do give orangish milk in the spring and summer. Because these bovines make beta-carotene (the carrot color) into the milk.
And that orange cheese was tastier than it’s pale counter part.
Then folks got sneaky. The cheesemakers found Annatto seeds that would die the cheese and make it a consistent color year round, thus fooling the folks into believing it was the spring/summer cheese.
A modern travesty you say? Well, it’s been going on since the 17th century, so how do you define modern?
Cheeses without the Annatto seeds are called white cheese or Vermont cheddar. Why Vermont cheddar? I have no idea. But that’s a blog for another day.
Now, orangen’t you glad you didn’t ask?
Chapter 4
Bei’s curses blistered the WA shocking cyberspace into silence. His outburst had shocked his men. The hieroglyphic writing on the tomb’s walls blazed with light. Under his feet, the mining base hummed with power. His wife had activated ancient alien technology. With each panel on the tomb that lit, Bei sensed the bounty on Nell Stafford increasing by a hundred fold, a thousand, nearly a million fold.
The base was supposed to be secure.
This expedition should have been safe.
Yet, now Nell would be in more danger than ever, if the Founding Five discovered her new ability. Not if, when.
A spy skulked in their midst. The new development would be relayed within hours. Bei glanced at the other occupants. Who was the traitor?
The two feather-headed Skaperian scientists gathered around the console rising out of the center of the square room. While an orange-feathered one poked the flat surface, the blue-feathered one recorded results. The Skaperians had fought the Founders before and won. There was certainly no love lost between the two species. But the Skaperian Empire was divided. Those seeking power might make a deal with the enemy.
Against the far wall, Omest, the Picaroon, traced the writing with long, bony fingers. The months of healthy eating hadn’t undone millennia of ill-treatment at the hands of the Founding Five. Still, the Picaroons were smugglers and knew routes through, around, and inside enemy space that no other species had considered. Would they form an alliance to gain a home that wasn’t rotting and poisoning those inhabiting it?
Two Plenipotens stood in the corner. Hunched over their bound ledgers, they scratched the paper with quills. Heads close together, their jug ears muffled their conversation as they debated what to record.
Any one of them could be undermining the Neo-Sentient Alliance. Allowing Nell off his ship was his error in judgment. The oscillation in the ancient power source caused his circuits to beep with static. He clenched his fists, adding yellow compression alerts to the scrambled code.
Admiral, you need to evacuate Nell Stafford before the others notice her presence activated the technology. Using the fiberoptic cable at the base of her skull, Shang’hai jacked into the tablet in her hand. She switched from scanning to sending, scattering any evidence of who flipped the switch.
Nell’s eyes widened, and she sucked air through her teeth. She focused on Bei. Fear bled healthy pink color from her pale skin. “I— I—”
“I think you should rest.” Bei activated the diagnostic beam in his wrist. Instead of washing over his wife and checking their twins, he used it to sweep the energy away from her. “You are two weeks from delivery.”
She swallowed hard and nodded. “Perhaps that would be best.”
Security Chief Frankfort Rome barged into the WA. His avatar tugged on his blond, stubby hair. What the hell, Bei. The whole planet is glowing like a star. Are you daring the bug-ugly Scraptors to come fight us? I’m not complaining. I just want to lay out some party favors.
Bei shook his head as weapons systems activated in the spaceship orbiting the mining base. Nell stumbled over some alien trip wire. Can you keep the power on for five minutes until I get her off world?
Maybe if I knew what the hell was powering it. The eyes of Rome’s avatar leapt out of his pixelated head then jumped back in. I’ve never seen anything like it.
Fermites are responsible. At least, they share the same energy signal. Shang’hai stooped near the control platform in the center of the room. She glanced around ensuring no one watched her before crushing the tablet in her hands and easing the bits onto the floor. Have your wife send her fermites to fix the tablet. Their presence should keep the energy humming for a minute. Maybe two.
Wrapping his arm around his wife’s shoulders, Bei reeled her against his body. He kissed her temple. “Send as many of your fermites to repair Shang’hai’s tablet as you can.”
She closed her eyes and rested her head against his shoulder.
Bei enhanced his optical sensors. The build-up of static electricity crackled across his skin. The atomic-sized machines streamed in threads of silver to the center of the room. The writing on the floor glowed brighter as the fermites passed. No one but Shang’hai noticed. Good. He turned Nell toward the exit.
She sighed. “Sorry about that. I was so happy not to be the center of attention that I didn’t realize what was happening until it was too late.”
“It’s not too late.” If he could get her far enough away in a minute, the others might not make the connection between her and the power.
A muffled shout echoed around the room.
Nell froze. Her nails dug into his chest. “Oh, no.”
“What is the meaning of this?”
Voiceprint recognition identified the speaker for Bei. Miss Mary Marple. One of their two liaisons with the Meek.
Nell pivoted about. Her body trembled from head to foot. Fermites created a golden aura around her body.
Turning back to the interior of the tomb, Bei stood a little in front of his wife. If the Meek tried anything… “Mary Marple.”
Just as Nell had conjured her from her love of British TV, the woman was an amalgam of two famous fictional characters: Mary Poppins and Jane Marple.
The emissary solidified. Her chip straw hat with its droopy blue silk flower perched on her upswept hair. The tailored navy suit with its snowy white blouse defined her stooped shoulders. In one hand, she held a carpet bag with red knitting needles poking through the open top. Sensible shoes encased her tiny feet. “Admiral Beijing York. Nell Stafford.”
Mary Marple’s attention stuck to Nell’s swollen belly—home of one of the energy-based Meek being reborn as a Human. Marple’s sigh stirred the steel gray curls at her temples.
The orange-feathered Skaperian scientist scuttled closer to the emissary. “You honor us with your presence, Mary Marple.”
The Meek pursed her lips and inclined her head regally.
Bei ground his teeth. Another species who viewed Humans as servants. His memory files were full of them.
Nell stiffened. Hands on her hips, she thrust her stomach at the other woman. “Why are you here?”
Mary Marple cocked her head to the left. The rose in her hat didn’t budge. “You summoned me when you activated the room.”
Five pair of alien eyes fastened on Nell, who shrunk against him. Leave it to the Meek to tattle everyone else’s secrets but reveal nothing of their own. Bei set his hand on his wife’s hip. His armor hardened.
Job stood on Nell’s opposite side.
Guenoc, the Plenipoten leader, transcribed the conversation.
Shang’hai eased into position at Bei’s two o’clock. Although her arms hung loosely at her sides, she rolled scenarios inside her head, shunting them to him as she completed each one. I’ve been working on a memory wiping device like the one used in an old Earth movie clip. It doesn’t work quite the same.
Not all of the memories are erased? Bei would leverage his implants this little turn of events would be common knowledge before they returned to the ship.
The subjects die, but the threat is eliminated. Her pink-haired avatar winked at him.
Bei grunted, prioritized her proposed scenarios according to his preferences, and lobbed them back to her. Time for some damage control. “What is this place?”
Setting the valise by her shoes, Mary Marple ran her hands down her lapels. “This is an observation post.”
The orange-feathered Skaperian eased closer. Tangerine lips curved downward as she glanced at the tablet in her palm. “What does it observe? There are no inhabited planets nearby.”
“There were two planets here once, a long time ago.” Mary Marple smiled benignly at the scientists.
Nell rubbed the base of her skull.
A ghostly shape drifted through the WA. Nell had switched off her isolation subroutine. What could be so important that she would give up her freedom to tell him?
Bei, she’s lying. I know it. Nell squeezed his hand. I don’t know how I know it, but she is lying.
He didn’t doubt her conclusion. Despite the interference from the fermites, he’d detected slight anomalies in the cohesion of the atomic machines around Mary Marple. This isn’t an observation post?
I don’t know. With her free hand, she stroked her belly. I just have a bad feeling about this place. And her.
Yeah, his processors wanted to throw up firewalls, too. He scanned the room, isolating the build-up of dust and debris shaken loose from the mining operations and estimated the time lapse. He’d use her answer as a truth baseline. After all, why would she lie about how long the observation post had been empty? “How long ago did you abandon this place?”
“Thirty millennia.”
The lead Skaperian scientist smoothed her orange feathers. Her attention darted from Nell to Mary Marple. “This room is powered by fermites, isn’t it? Nell Stafford’s fermites.”
Bei switched to hyperaware, amplifying his sensors. His weapon charged at his hip. He would have a talk with Ugu, the de facto leader of the Skaperians, about how freely her scientists yakked in front of others. He identified the gabbing scientist as Icapm. The ambitious female had experimented on the Amarooks when the Skaperian pretender to the throne had challenged Nell to a battle to the death. He whistled for Ash.
Omest pinched his blood red bottom lip. “I’m certain it was just a coincidence. After all, Mary Marple is comprised of fermites. All Humans carry them. Perhaps the presence of so many diggers—”
“No.” Mary Marple arched a gray eyebrow.
The Picaroon was trying to cover for Nell. Why? Bei kept the Plenipotens in his peripheral vision. They ceased recording information in their ledgers.
Nell brushed Bei’s mind. Don’t read too much into it. I bet the vampire Omest just wants to suck my fermite-infested blood. As for the pencil pushers… If they’re anything like the elephants they resemble, then they don’t have to write things down to remember them.
“Nell Stafford is the physical embodiment of the Meek. She can activate all of our former observation posts simply by walking into them.” Mary Marple waved her hand over the console. Her fingers fuzzed around the tips and the top of the console glowed red, blue, and yellow.
Bei growled. Can you request a private audience with Mary Marple. I don’t want her telling everyone of your abilities.
You and me both. Nell cleared her throat.
Ash loped inside. Shaking off his cloaking ability, the pup plopped down on Nell’s boots. He yawned, flashing his fangs, then stretched out on his belly and rested his muzzle on his paws.
Bei knocked against their telepathic connection. Nothing. So much for sticking the Amarook on the scientists. Time for plan B.
Icapm kept the console between the Amarook and her body. She pressed the blue button and a star map overlaid the ceiling. “What weapons do you control from here?”
“No weapons.” Mary Marple shrugged. “This post was simply for observation of primitive cultures.”
And Bei was just a deluxe toaster. He scanned the projection of the heavens and compared it to known star charts in the CIC. Two whole solar systems had gone missing. And over fifty planets in the “M-Class” range.
Reaching up, Nell plucked a system from the map. The fifth planet glowed, revealing a molten surface. “Dalem.”
“What did you say?” Mary Marple snapped.
Nell jerked backward. The system sprang back into the chart. “Damn that, uh, looks like it should be a hot planet.”
Bei sent a pulse of static electricity over his wife’s skin to cover the deception. Not that he could do anything about that blush. She was a terrible liar. He sent the word Dalem to the CIC, limiting the search to Nell’s favorite source of references—old Earth movies. “She’s trying not to swear in front of the babies.”
Icapm flushed an ugly shade of orange. “I thought Human males could be warriors, too. Then why would you protect them from words?”
With a thought, Bei switched off the internal fan of the Skaperian’s reader. The device should be too hot to hold within minutes.
Shang’hai’s lips twitched. She started an internal stopwatch, timing when Icapm dropped the tech. Bets were placed in the WA. “So there are no weapons, here?”
“No.” Mary Marple straightened the flower in her straw hat. “Just maps, which are very outdated.”
Guenoc stabbed one red dwarf star with his feather quill. “Even the Syn-En do not have technology this sophisticated. We should study it, duplicate it.”
“You don’t use our unsophisticated technology. Why would you want this?” Bei would give his right arm to know what the other two buttons did. He could always choose another arm, but those two buttons…
Icapm dropped the tablet on the console and blew on her fingers. The tablet tapped the yellow button. “We may be able to incorporate the technology any number of ways.”
Rome cheered as he won the bet by a tenth of a second.
Bei detected movement in an asteroid field. He lobbed the memory clip to his security officer. Check for anomalies.
Mary Marple waved her hand. The console fell dark. The star chart shrunk to a pin prick of light then blinked out. “The notes will do you no good. The races we recorded were an evolutionary dead end. Let their ghosts rest in peace. Leave this place.”
Nell’s skin sparkled. She elbowed him in the gut. Mary Marple is going to destroy this place with the fermites.
“We can’t leave.” Icapm grabbed the tablet from her subordinate’s hand. “There is much to learn. I doubt even the mighty Syn-En can do what the Meek could thirty thousand years ago.”
Wow, someone’s jealous. Nell added her fermites to the mix. The engraving on the right panel crumbled to dust. Did you record everything?
Yes. Bei scanned the room one more time then sent the data packet to his communications officer for translation. Whatever the Meek were hiding, he needed to know before it returned to hijack his hardware.
Sticking his hands in his pockets, Job sauntered from the room. “I’ll get my diggers. We won’t waste any of those rare minerals.”
Omest stepped back as the engraving on the wall before him slowly dissolved. “You heard the emissary of the Meek. This is a simple observation post, and she doesn’t want us here. We need to respect her wishes.”
“What? No. Stop!” Icapm flushed, her skin turning a sickly shade of puce. “This is a historical find of great significance. With the Meek to translate, we can learn new paths to the Founding Five’s home space, technologies that can be used as weapons, and—.”
“No.” Mary Marple flicked her wrist and the console crumbled to pieces no bigger than the balls of yarn in her carpet bag. “We cannot allow you to have any more of an advantage than we’ve already given you.”
“Once you’re gone, you won’t be able to stop us.” Icapm hissed.
“Once we’re gone, you will all be at the same technological level.” Mary Marple’s feet disappeared to the ankles. “I suggest you use the point as a reason to cooperate, not to start a competition.”
“Humans are already ahead of us.” Icapm crossed her arms over her chest. “The Syn-En have technology none of us wield, and Nell Stafford….”
“Hey, now!” Nell sputtered. “I didn’t ask for these superpowers, and I’m sharing. I’ve healed more wounded Skaperians than Humans, and I’ve helped you to adapt the prostheses for use in your people.”
“We are not people.” The Skaperian bared her teeth.
Bei moved in front of his wife. If the female made one more threatening move, he’d pluck her bald and feed her feathers to her through her broken teeth. “It is better for all if this place is destroyed. We don’t want the Founding Five to learn of its existence. They could return and deprive us of the minerals. Minerals we need for armor. Armor that saves Skaperian lives.”
Shang’hai shifted near the other console. Her hand hovered near the grip of her TorpSK7.
Icapm notched her chin on her bloated pride and stormed toward the exit. “I shall make an official protest against this desecration.”
Blocking the exit, Bei didn’t budge.
Easy, cowboy. Nell patted his arm. “We understand. We will file our report along with the recording that the Meek instituted the destruction of their own temple, following their society’s principles.”
So there. I may not know history but I do know administration, you tangerine muppet. Nell waited until the scientists passed then rolled her eyes.
Ash shifted, disappearing, and followed the Skaperians from the room.
Guenoc hustled forward. Gray dust coated his white robes and ivory topped the knuckles as he gripped his quill. “You don’t believe the Founding Five will return here, do you?”
“They will if they think there’s a weapon.” Bei would. Any leader worth his synthetic parts would. “That’s why it will be destroyed. All of it.”
Mary Marple faded away as the last of the etchings were erased from the walls.
The mining base’s core strummed with power. Artificial gravity for a whole moon. Damn, he wanted it. The technology would solve many of their resettlement problems, as refugees continued to pour into NSA-controlled space.
“Bei?” Nell swayed on her feet. Do you want me to save the technology? I can stop the fermites.
Tempting. So very tempting. But what could be used for good, could also be weaponized. And he wouldn’t risk the minerals for something that they might not be able to make work. Order the fermites to finish what Mary Marple started, then rest.
Chewing on the nub of his quill, Guenoc hugged his ledger to his chest and hustled out of the cavern. His subordinate followed.
Omest ran his fingers through the pile of dust before wiping his hands on his black trousers. “Not many are like the Syn-En. I could count on my fingers the number that would destroy technology far more advanced than their own. Every species that struggled to register as sentient remembers those that enslaved them. Most would like to avenge the suffering and injustice. With victory so close at hand, I do not doubt some would use a new piece of technology to attack fellow Alliance members.”
Bei weighed the alien’s words. His own men still cried out for justice against the United Earth Council for killing so many Syn-En. How could he expect less from individuals without logic processors?
Great, the crazy is all around us. Nell eased out from behind Bei. “And your people?”
“My people need Humans in all their forms. Our world is lost. You’ve tried to help, to undo the damage, but when this is over, we will abandon Picaroo. Our hope is that Humans will allow us to live and work among their colonies.” Omest smoothed back his widow’s peak. Pointy fangs bulged against his red lips.
“There will always be a place for your kind beside Humanity, should you need it.” Bei sent search criteria for a world suitable for both Picaroons and Humans. No species should be without a place to call their own. He knew the hole it tunneled through the soul. He held Nell a little tighter.
Omest flattened his palm over his chest and dipped his head in respect before he sauntered out of the cavern.
Nell strummed her bottom lip through her teeth. “Do you trust him?”
Job steered an electric vehicle into the room. Healthy men and women miners chatted and laughed in the empty ore cars trailing behind him.
“As much as any of our allies.” Bei ushered her out of the walkway. Not that he trusted many of the newly arrived groups of Humans either. As Omest said, many joined the Alliance for payback. He’d heard rumors of the forces under his control murdering unarmed Scraptors and torturing their offspring. If he discovered proof of such atrocities, he would personally rip the offender limb from limb. “But the Picaroons have more to lose than anyone. Same with a dozen other allies. All have made similar requests, along with providing a cost-to-benefit analysis.”
Bei’s programming blipped at the logic. What kind of beings weighed doing the right thing against the bottom line?
Job parked the vehicle and turned off the motor. Laughing, he strode to the first ore car and removed a shovel. “Alright you slag heads, let’s load up this mineral ore and get it off world before our admiral leaves.”
Jostling each other, the men and women lined up. Shovels scraped rock. Dust billowed in clouds around them. Rebreathers hummed with each breath the miners took.
Manual labor. Bei shook his head. Even Humans didn’t trust the tech. “Job.”
Resting his shovel on his shoulder, Job swaggered closer. “The Deutsche clan will have your ships loaded before you return to the shuttle bay.”
“What happened to the earth movers I sent?” Bei double-checked his logs. The equipment would have arrived with the miners.
“We’re using it topside. Having machines do the heavy lifting is making us fat.” Job patted his flat stomach. “Besides, we don’t want to waste it on this itty-bitty amount of work. We’re chasing a vein of rare Earth minerals, and I have a feeling we’ll strike pay dirt sooner rather than later.”
Bei nodded. At least that information was correct. What else hadn’t been updated in the database? “When did you report the Enif as missing?”
Job scratched furrows in his scraggly beard. “The day the freighter didn’t show. The captain was always punctual. He’d send a message before he left his last stop and let us know when to expect him. When he didn’t show, I radioed the Esean outpost and checked if the captain had been delayed. The commander said he’d left on time, so I radioed the Quartermaster and let him know I suspected the rat bastards had attacked the ship.”
Bei verified the call to the outpost He played back the recording of the conversation. Everything was as it should be, except the notes in the outpost’s log. The captain had been reported tardy, not reported as missing. Did the fools not realize this was war? That every missing ship was suspect?
Hashmarks appeared between Job’s bushy eyebrows. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No. No, you followed procedure.” The administrators at the Becrux outpost had scrambled the circuits. And what could he do? All of the aliens had to help with this fight. Bei just wished they would help instead of hinder.
Nell pinged him. The Syn-En can’t do everything and fight, too. “There have been delays in transmitting data. Solar storms. Ion radiation. That kind of thing.”
Bei blanked his expression. Solar storms and ion radiation didn’t interfere with his technology, hadn’t for generations. What was she up to?
Job nodded his head.
Bei swallowed a snort. Was the miner humoring Nell, or did he really believe such fairy tales?
“That’s what the Plenipotens said.” Job rested his shovel on the stone floor and leaned against the handle. “That’s why they wanted back-up paper copies sent via the shuttle captains as couriers.”
Bei’s processors nearly leapt for joy. “Do you have copies of them?”
Job nodded then shrugged. “I handed them to Guenoc when he landed.”
Guenoc. The man stood at the center of the bottleneck of information. Bei clenched and unclenched his hands. That would end now. He might even be able to narrow down the list of possible traitors.
Easy, hubbinator. Nell patted his arm. I was an administrative assistant in my former life. Let me handle this.
Nell…
Don’t Nell me. She kissed his cheek. I won’t get stressed, and I’ll keep my mind busy and still be able to help with the war effort. It’ll be a piece of cake. You’ll see.
Bei shuddered. Nell had baked him a cake for their one year anniversary. He was certain he’d need his stomach replaced after the experience and was glad when she hadn’t repeated the experiment. Although he would have eaten the whole thing. Again.
He’d wager every carbon fiber in his body that Nell’s assumption of the administrative duties would be worse than consuming an entire bakery full of her cakes.
kobo–
Just to kill some time before the weekend.
Winged Suiter Meets His Maker:
http://safeshare.tv/w/kLlmcNCGBk
Bubble Show:
https://www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/KMrvR836TFI?rel=0
Enjoy!
Chapter 3
Aricose Groat stood beside the stub of his captain’s chair. Wires bristled from the control hubs tipped on their sides on the dreadnaught’s bridge. His tail hooked through the twisted deck, pinschers clasped behind his back. Clouds of vapor leaked from the missing panels on his command deck and fogged his eyestalks. Under his boots, the old ship wheezed her death throes.
She just had to complete one last mission.
Then Groat would overload her fusion engine and drive her into the nearest Human base. Humans, the vermin of the universe. If they’d stayed in their place, his Command of the Scraptor army and head of the Founding Five Fleet wouldn’t feel like such a hollow victory.
If Humans had stayed as laboratory animals and free labor, the universe wouldn’t have risen up against the Founding Five’s rule.
And the Founding Five wouldn’t be on the verge of surrender.
He wouldn’t be on the edge of extermination. His mandibles clacked in annoyance. Four months of defeat after defeat. Territories lost. Now, they threatened the Scraptor world of Ngery Prime.
After all the Founders had done for them.
The ingrates would pay. The hatch to the bridge plummeted to the deck and crashed against the metal grates.
A Scraptor in white armor stomped across it. His left pinscher was missing, as was his right eyestalk. Dents marred his breastplate and soot stained his helmet from a particle weapon burst.
Groat couldn’t remember his name. There had been so many since his best friend Tridit had fallen four months ago. Bile soured Groat’s mouth. Four months had shown him the flaws in the Founding Five’s Commerce Board. The corruption in the system.
The enemy never had problems with failing technology. Their armor looked as clean as the day it rolled off the factory floor. Groat would bet his eye stalks the Syn-En never ran into budget shortfalls, or pay for performance evaluations before acquiring new technology.
Just another thing he hated about Humans.
“Report,” he snapped around his mandibles.
“Dricur has fallen, Fleet Commander.” The Scraptor held out a sleek electronic pad. Words scrolled down the scratch-resistant screen. The latest technology.
Groat knew because he’d stolen it from a conniving Munician. The stinky politico never wanted for the latest technology and comforts. He had the stolen ships to go with the pads. But they weren’t for this mission. They weren’t for any of the Founding Five to know about, until Groat decided to demand their unconditional surrender.
Not that he completely trusted the technology, but he wanted it. He’d seen the miracles the Humans had performed with it.
Even the Municians thought the Humans had stolen their warships.
To keep the secret, Groat killed most Humans quickly.
But if he ever caught a Syn-En, he would offer him death by combat.
Then dissect him while he still lived. Groat clasped his humanoid hands in front of his chest. He had yet to take a single Syn-En prisoner. Even the location of their corpses had stopped appearing in the dispatches from his spies among the Alliance. Still, one never knew. “Survivors?”
The Scraptor aimed his good eyestalk at the pad. “None.”
Groat nodded. He had expected such a result. He added the ten thousand new names to his tally. “Did we capture any prisoners before the Alliance took the planet?”
The worthless rock had been mined dry before Groat’s birth. Only a few Human diggers remained. The fools had refused to die like they should have, and his men had hunted them for sport until the Syn-En had shown up.
The pad buzzed in the Scraptor’s hand.
Mopus Argent, the stinkiest of the Founding Five’s stinky politicians, stared back from the screen. “Ah, there you are.” The lanky Munician adjusted his gold-embroidered cuff around a puny wrist. “The Fleet is falling apart under your leadership, Groat. I don’t know how long even my illustrious patronage can keep you in power.”
Groat wanted nothing more than to drive his fist through the lime-green politician’s face. “You’ll keep me in power, if you wish to remain in power.”
Snatching the pad from his subordinate’s hand, Groat waved him away. Not that the officer would go far. There always had to be witnesses to orders from the Munician. Mopus had tried more than once to sabotage Groat’s authority.
“Such threats are becoming tiresome.” Mopus flashed pointy teeth when he yawned.
“But they’re not empty.”
Mopus flushed a shade of emerald. “Keep losing to our inferiors, and the only thing the Commerce Board will demand from you is one final scream as your head is severed from your body.”
A chill snaked down Groat’s spine. That threat wasn’t empty either. The Board had muttered about results even as they slashed his budget. Without enemy worlds to plunder and hold ransom, he had a serious shortfall. “Should that happen, video clips will appear in each of their data boxes. Videos showing the Municians building warships and constructing weapons.”
He peeled aside his mandibles so the politico could see his two sets of teeth.
“Given your handling of this little uprising, I think the Board would applaud my foresight.”
The bastard was probably right, Groat acknowledged with a nod. “But will they also approve of you diverting funds from the tax revenue service for Munician coffers?”
Stealing money was never forgivable. Especially to the greedy, corrupt Board.
The color drained from Mopus’s face until he was nearly white. “The data breach. I thought the Humans had…”
“Proving once again how wrong you are.” Groat relaxed his eyestalks. Yes, the Humans had stolen the data from the secret weapons base, Sentinel. Groat’s spies had passed along the ledgers, the locations of other Munician research bases, and numbers of their fancy ships and weapons.
Mopus’s eyes widened in shock, then dark green flooded his face. “You stole my property?”
“Shall I go on? This channel is open. This bridge is being monitored by the Commerce Board. Who knows who is watching?”
No one. The cameras had been damaged. Sure new ones had arrived on time, but weapons hadn’t and Groat could be forgiven for losing such an unnecessary piece of equipment. Especially when records clearly showed all logs had been delivered to the Municians as required.
The stinky politico wasn’t the only one to gain his position with cunning.
Mopus’s eyes narrowed to slits. A soft beep sounded. “Give me a report on Dricur.”
“The planet has fallen to the Alliance.” Groat kept his comments neutral. His audio-implants had picked up the beep as the recorder was engaged. “We cleansed it of Human vermin before the enemy arrived.”
“And the new weapons?”
“No new weapons arrived.” Groat forced out between his clenched teeth. “My men had five rounds for each of their guns. It takes four rounds to dent the Syn-En armor, and that’s if the shooter hits the same spot each time. I—”
“Yes, yes.” Mopus waved a hand in dismissal. “I’m talking about the explosives.”
“The ones packed into the new breastplates you ordered my men to strap on and detonate when they ran out of ammunition?” The plan was madness. He could have saved five thousand soldiers and used the armor as a back-up.
No Scraptor would be taken alive.
They could expect the same mercy they showed the enemy—none.
“Yes.” Mopus leaned forward, filling the screen with his ugly face. Excitement danced in his turquoise eyes. “Did they take out the enemy?”
The bastard didn’t care about the Scraptors. Groat’s pinschers clacked. Calm, he had to remain calm. He couldn’t let the politico see any weakness. “Two of our men feigned surrender and worked their way into a Syn-En unit.” The inferior Humans had actually called for a medic to treat the Scraptors’ wounds. “They detonated within a pace of the Syn-En. None were damaged, let alone injured.”
Their technology was damn near indestructible.
If he hadn’t seen a dead Syn-En with his own eyestalks, he would think the Human soldiers couldn’t be killed at all.
“Your men must have done something wrong.” Mopus growled, sagging in a plush chair.
“I’ve sent you the video of the battle. You can see for yourself.” Groat lied, betting the Munician’s ego wouldn’t allow him to admit that he’d never received the file. A file Groat had no intention of sending. Ever. The explosives had taken out some of the lesser Alliance species. No one cared about them, and he refused to acknowledge any success to the purposeful killing of Scraptors.
He needed every soldier.
“Yes, yes. I’ll review the file later.” Mopus waved a green hand. “Now, I propose you fall back to Dysamium Prime. I’ll divert supply ships to—”
“No.” Dysamium Prime was far from the home space of the Scraptors. Groat and his men refused to protect worlds gutted of resources when Scraptor habitats lay unprotected. Especially when he’d begun to receive reports of predations on Scraptor women and offspring by the Alliance. “Your advice has exchanged men for bankrupt assets. Send me a list of supplies en route to our positions, and the transports’ locations. Once I have that information, I’ll contact you with our next move.”
“Now, Groat—”
“Do it. I am Fleet Commander, you are support. Do your job, so I can do mine. I’ve already sent a formal request to every member of the Commerce Board asking for copies of all shipments this last month, along with the manifests of the actual deliveries.” Groat terminated the connection. His heart pounded in his chest. The gambit had to pay off.
Mopus had many friends on the Board.
Friends who had lost property and assets when the Alliance advanced. An advance that Groat couldn’t stop, unless he received the promised weapons, weapons he believed Mopus was diverting for his own uses.
Groat’s men were dying for nothing, dammit! He wanted to smash the electronic pad, to root out and exterminate the whole greedy batch of politicos. The pad shook in his grip. The screen cracked.
“Fleet Commander.”
He tossed the pad at the Scraptor before he broke it. “Report.”
“We are nearing Ngery Prime.” The Scraptor smoothed the edges of the crack.
The damage didn’t self-heal as Groat had seen the Syn-En’s technology do. Even the Founding Five’s best advances seemed far, far behind the Humans. But he would still lead the Scraptors to victory. They were superior to Humans, they couldn’t lose. He focused on the officer. “What do our long range sensors indicate?”
He had checked the ship’s sensors before heading out on this mission. He knew most of them worked.
“We’re picking up energy signatures similar to Alliance ships. We are too far away to count the numbers and types of craft.”
“Put our forces on alert. Prime weapons. If the Humans dare to attack Ngery Prime, we will slay them all.”
“Yes, Fleet Commander.”
Groat followed the Scraptor out of the useless bridge. His tail bounced with each step of his armored boots. He cracked his knuckles as he dropped down the ladder onto the lower deck. Two down. Three down. He arrived in the cargo bay and hurried to the boxy shuttle in the center of the empty bay. Scorch marks striped the sides. Scraptors cannibalized an engine from the shell of a shuttle to patch the damaged one. A jack substituted for the portside landing gear.
Groat crossed to the makeshift command center glommed onto the side of the bay. “Report.”
His pinscher clacked in anticipation. He hoped he arrived in time to fight the enemy. He had a few new weapons in his arsenal he wanted to try.
A new Scraptor in shiny pink armor looked up from the boxy communication station. “Seven Alliance vessels are currently strafing the population centers. We’re intercepting emergency transmissions.”
The Scraptor’s eyestalks drooped.
New recruits. In a month, carnage would no longer shock him. Groat and his men had killed plenty of defenseless Human females and offspring. Had any of them expected the enemy not to repay them in kind? Two Scraptor outposts had fallen. His men had killed the civilians to prevent them from being tortured by the enemy. “And?”
He wanted it to be bad. To show his men how much like mindless vermin Humans and their insipid Alliance were.
Another Scraptor in blue stepped forward. “The Syn-En attacked schools and gathering areas first.”
“Yes.” Groat nodded. “To maximize casualties, confusion, and fear. Every Scraptor knows this basic tactic.”
It was so rudimentary that even Humans could have developed it. Or learned it from their Skaperian allies. Although the Skaperians said it violated their code of warfare. The venomous feather-heads often lied.
“The enemy waited until the medical corps and the home guard responded before initiating a raid against the same targets.” The blue Scraptor returned to his console. Weapons systems flashed hot across the board. “In addition, they have razed all medical centers, fire brigade stations, and home guard bases.”
“Bring us in. All units prepare for action. Helm, destroy all enemy craft.” Groat crossed to the armory and selected the particle rifle. Two magazines fit under his breastplate. “Take no prisoners. Unless, they’re Syn-En. Then cut them to pieces but keep them alive.”
kobo–
Dogs are magical. Not because of the special connections they have with humans or the fact that evolved from that mythical, magical trickster, the wolf – dogs are magical because they can sleep anywhere. If I could sleep like dogs sleep, I’d never be tired. And if I could sleep like dogs sleep, there would probably also be a lot of pictures on the Internet of me sleeping, because sleeping dogs are ridiculous. Just look at these photos. My favorite is the dog in the guitar case!
1.
1.
This dog’s asleep. Wait, I mean “This dog’s a-sheep.”
2.
After your hound is planted, expect puppies to sprout in six to eight weeks.
3.
I’m actually not sure if this dog is asleep or just having a vulnerable bonding moment with the table leg.
4.
Because really, isn’t every water dish just a very small pool? OH does that mean that every pool is just a large water bowl?!
5.
Hey, I’m just gonna see if my Kong went under the cou…zzzzz.
6.
All 2016 Hondas will have puppy sleep handles as a standard feature.
7.
Sorry, your patio furniture is now a dog bed.
8.
No, seriously. Your patio furniture is a dog bed.
9.
“I didn’t fall asleep in the food bowl!”
10.
Somebody doesn’t understand the concept of a pillow.
11.
And that was the day he discovered his dog had a shoe fetish.
12.
Although he loved music, it was Spot’s greatest secret that he was actually tone deaf.
13.
Bitsy built her own version of Temple Grandin’s hug machine.
14.
He didn’t even rinse himself off in the sink before getting in the dishwasher.
15.
Shifting into sleep mode.
I love to bake, especially during the winter. This year, I decided to make extra batches of cookies and freeze them, so I could pull cold cookies out of the freezer when it’s a 100 or so outside. I had to make extra trips for chocolate, peanut butter, and toffee chips, but for the most part the standard ingredients were used and readily available.
But then it came to the almond cookies.
Next to sugar cookies, almond cookies are my favorite. Yum. I have two recipes. One that uses ground almonds and one that uses almond paste. I have a food processor so I coarsest grind my own almonds for the cookies. Easy-peasy.
Finding almond paste was another matter.
I went to Walmart and Sprouts. Nada. Sprouts had more raw ingredients (duh), but at Walmart I was shocked at the end caps and seasonal displays. Lots of mixes for cookies of all sorts, stuffing and various food kits.
Did I miss the part where folks stopped cooking from scratch. We spent 10 minutes cruising the aisles looking for molasses then picked from the one variety offered. I couldn’t even find colored jimmies without a can of frosting attached. What? I guess I missed the memo about no more cooking from scratch.
And while I was willing to chalk it up to being Walmart, hubby has banned me from making cookies and breads for his coworkers. They prefer the store bought kind. Sure enough, during the potluck they had he brought in store cookies and someone made from scratch chocolate chip cookies. The store bought were gone but there were only 1/4 of the home baked. He proudly patted his stomach to say he’d eaten most of them.
For years I’ve watched common sense become a rarity, now I see our tastebuds are leaving, too.
Bleah, I’ll keep making cookies from scratch until they pry that spatula from my cold, dead hands.
Anyone else have a favorite food that can only be satisfied by homemade?
Chapter 2
Nell Stafford’s sandals whispered across the cut rock. She glanced down. A toga. She was wearing a toga. Her chest tightened. Oh, no, not this dream again. Her fingernails dug into her palms. Unease prickled her skin.
But this wasn’t her body.
She was seeing this world through someone else’s eyes.
Energy pulsed around her and flowed through the veins of the mountain entombing her.
The hair on her nape stood on end. She raised her hand to smooth it and encountered short curly hair. Memories flooded in, memories that evaporated as soon as she left this place: Aywed. Memories that she’d wanted to share with Bei but never remembered when she woke. The artificial gravity tugged on her heels, making her movements sticky like walking in fresh tar.
But she wasn’t really here.
She raised her hand and noted the fine dark hairs on her arms and across her knuckles. Muscle roped her forearms. She’d turned into a man. A Human man. Freud would have something to say about it. Freud could go soak his head. It was Bei’s advice she needed, his presence she craved.
Soft white light washed over the engraved wall. This one featured the octopus-like Unadul mutilated next to the ruins of their underwater homes. On the opposite wall, the elven Municians loped off each others limbs in a pitched battle.
Alien names flitted through her consciousness. Different names but she identified two to be the Founding Five species. A quick turn at the corner and the pictograms depicted new species, for whom she had no frame of reference.
Extinct. The man’s whisper chased itself around her skull. We did that. We had no choice.
She blinked back the tears and her steps slowed as she waded through the sadness. Can you hear me?
Billions. The numbers of dead tally in the billions on these walls alone. With no end in sight. He glanced over his shoulder. The corridor faded into darkness behind him. He peered closer, ever closer. The Grand Architects are always watching.
Frustration shredded Nell’s insides. Why did he bring her here, time and again, if he wasn’t going to interact with her? She wanted to smack herself. She wanted to punch him.
Fabric whispered ahead.
He paused. His heart thundered in his ears and his mouth dried. Have we been discovered?
Her panic mirrored his. She wanted to cover her belly. But her pregnancy didn’t exist. Bei! She called out for her husband and felt the abyss swallow her cry.
“Aeacus?” A Human woman called softly. Light glowed on the walls, brightening as she appeared. Her sea foam toga draped over her Rubenesque frame. Black curly hair tumbled from the knot on top of her head. A smile softened her round face and curved her full lips.
“Eanna.” Aeacus rushed forward, carrying Nell with him. Desire overrode the fear of moments ago. Warmth flooded his limbs and banished his doubts. Everything would be well with Eanna at his side.
Nell mentally rolled her eyes. Nice of you to have the love of your life at your side, buddy. I would have liked Bei with me.
Their hands touched first. Palms flat against the others. Then they pressed themselves together, chest-to-chest and thigh-to-thigh. Stooping, he rested his forehead against hers. Their breaths mingled, swirled, and became one.
Fidgeting, Nell closed her eyes to the intimacy. At least they weren’t kissing or…doing other things. She was so not into watching. Kiss her, and I’m blowing this joint, Aeacus, even if I have to take some of your gray cells with me.
Eanna’s fingertips grazed his cheek. “Devak is already here.”
Aeacus leaned into her caress before straightening. “Then we need to start. I’ve convinced the builders to relay my signal from my workstation. I do not know how long they can deceive the Grand Architects.”
“As did I.” Eanna dug her nails into his forearm. “The builders’ loyalties are divided between the two of us.”
Nell glanced down. She felt the grip but not the pain. How was this? A golden haze fuzzed the darkness. Fermites. The little atomic machines that she directed to heal, repair, and create were the builders. She snorted. What kind of name was builders? Really, they needed a better PR firm. They’re fermites. That’s what all the cool folks call them.
“Many of our own remain loyal to the Grand Architects.” Aeacus patted Eanna’s hand.
She eased her grip. “And if we try to convince our kind to join us, we run the risk of drawing the attention of the Grand Architects.”
Fear traced an icy finger down Aeacus’s spine. “We know the price for that.”
We do? Nell found a comfy place in Aeacus’s memories. She was going farther than she had before and yet she was still clueless. She hated being clueless, where was the foreshadowing, the creepy music? This obviously wasn’t a love story, or a film noir. More like a thriller or a horror movie. If there were zombies….
Soft light splashed the walls and floor. Clouds of fermites ground away the stone, cutting images of more species engaged in warfare or burying their dead.
Nell shuddered. What was this place? A tomb to some long dead Grand Architect. And just what was a Grand Architect anyway? She slouched in the memories. I wish this thing had Cliff-notes. I’d jump to the end and get back to Bei and our babies.
Bei.
She just wanted to touch him. Make sure this Ghost of Confusion Past didn’t interfere with her happily ever after.
Aeacus set his hand on Eanna’s back as they ducked under a low post and lentil. Golden light bathed the huge space and left not an inch in darkness. Add seating, and it could double as the University of Phoenix Stadium. Galaxies swirled across the rock ceiling, a projection of fermites. Stone pillars rose from the floor and branched like trees into the heavens. Crisp engravings decorated the floor, walls, and pillars. Humanoid, insectoid, and aquatic life forms lived and died over the surfaces.
A lone figure stood in the center of the room. Hands clasped behind his back, he stared up at the field of stars. “Two more species have been eradicated.”
The projection tightened on a binary star system in the center of the galaxy.
Nell bit her lip. She recognized those swirling arms. That was the Milky Way. Where was Earth? Stars burst to life on the edge but none looked right. Too bad she was trapped here, she could tap into the CIC and find out. Her brain box had to be good for something.
Eanna leaned against Aeacus’s and swallowed a sob. “But the Dalem’s songs of sorrow had pleased the Grand Architects. And their art…”
“Wasn’t enough in the end.” The figure in the center shrugged.
“How, Devak? How did they do it?” Aeacus wrapped his arm around the woman’s shoulders.
“The usual.” Devak reached into the projection and plucked the solar system out of the air. Sixteen planets swirled around the twin red dwarf suns. He stuck a finger in the belt of asteroids between the seventh and eighth planet, sending a large rock hurtling toward the green marble, fifth from the suns. “I picked the biggest I could. I didn’t want them to suffer anymore.”
“Oh, Devak.” Eanna patted Aeacus’s chest before rushing to the other man and throwing her arms around his shoulders. “You’ll be punished. The planet will be uninhabitable for millions of years. If we lose you…”
A number appeared on the star field. The death toll. Trillions of trillions. Nell hugged her flat stomach. Surely not from one planet? No, from hundreds of worlds. That was just wrong. So wrong. Why don’t you do something?
“We must act. Quickly.” Devak’s blue eyes brightened. He gently tucked the solar system into the projection. “This…act by the Grand Architects has created rumblings amongst the Meek. Some are not being as quiet as they should be.”
Nell caught her breath. This was the Meek? This was who she was sending out into the universe by sharing her fermites with thousands upon thousands of willing females?
What had she done?
Eanna caught her breath. “They can’t get rid of us. We’ve served the Grand Architects for many millennia.”
“A blink in time for them. We’re disposable, like our predecessors. That’s why they made us physical beings instead of energy life forms like them.” Aeacus crossed to the corner and pulled another solar system from one spiral arm. A small blue planet with a single moon spun on his fingertip. “How is Earth?”
“I’ve arranged for our compatriots to meet us there, but…” Devak joined Aeacus, removed the Earth from his hold and returned it to the projection. “The Grand Architects have taken an interest. And they’re building something there.”
“And on other worlds, as well.” Eanna turned her face to the ceiling. Seven star systems glowed green, including Earth’s.
Nell knew those places. Recognized them from the war room on her husband’s starship. Those are pillar worlds. Their allies, the Skaperians, had said the Erwarians had created the pillars. Could the Grand Architects be the Erwarians? She mentally slapped herself. Why hadn’t she paid more attention during the alien’s historical ramblings. Okay, she hated history, tuning out anything that started with dates before she was even born. But really, who knew it would come back to bite her on the bottom?
“What are they building?” Aeacus folded his arms over his chest but leaned toward the planets as if to discover their secrets. “Something to create more species to enact their beloved death scenes?”
The Erwarians were mass murderers? Nell would have remembered that, wouldn’t she? What did that make the Meek? Reluctant collaborators, or enforcers? And just why was Aeacus interested? He should be repulsed by the thought. Nell wanted to slap some sense into him.
“They’re building it themselves.” Devak pinched his lower lip. “Well, their personal converts.”
“Traitors,” Eanna hissed. Red suffused her round face. “They exposed Icaer and Lenif.”
Shoulders slumped, Devak studied his shoes.
“We are sorry for her loss, Devak. You loved her well.” Aeacus brushed the back of his hand across Eanna’s.
She inhaled a shaky breath before hooking her pinky around his.
Nell paced inside the memories, piecing together the movie she joined halfway through. Devak had been married to either Icaer or Lenif, and she or he had been killed by the traitors who were loyal to the Erwarians. Yet all of the Meek served the Erwarians. But some wanted to change that.
For better or worse?
Devak swiped at the moisture on his cheek and raised his head. His blue eyes pinned Aeacus. “So we’re agreed, then?”
“Yes.” Eanna raised her chin. “There is only one way to deal with the Grand Architects.” Her attention cut to Aeacus.
Aeacus straightened. “Genocide.”
#
Nell slammed into her body. Gasping for breath, she sat up in bed. She slapped a hand to her chest then dropped it to her rounded belly. “What! What just happened?”
At the foot of the bed, Ash yipped then leapt to all four paws. Razor-sharp claws slashed the air at the end of the two thin arms attached to his chest. The pup’s gray ruff stood on end. “Where is the threat? I’ll rip them apart.”
The Amarook’s verbal and telepathic pledge resonated inside her skull.
“I—I—” Nell’s skin tingled. Fermites swarmed her in a cloud of golden dust looking for an injury to fix. She chased after a memory. She had to remember. She had to tell Bei. She—
Her husband and one of his medic’s Brooklyn burst through the door of her cabin. The deadly eye of the barrel shaped TorpSK7 swept the room, floor to ceiling and left to right.
The energy weapon wobbled in Bei’s grip.
Nell’s stomach clenched. Her husband didn’t wobble. His synthetically-enhanced parts didn’t know the meaning of the word. Oh, God, what had she missed while she napped? “Bei?”
Transferring her weight to her knuckles, she scooted across the bed.
Two green beams fanned over her.
“Nell?” Holstering his weapon, Bei knelt in front of her and set his hands on her knees. His palms traced the curve of her thighs before he cupped her hips. “Are you well?”
Something tugged at the base of her skull. The big doofus was monkeying with her brain box. She loved him for it. Tears sprang to her eyes. Stupid pregnancy hormones. “I’m fine. We’re fine.” The twins knee-bumped her palms. “I— I—”
She drew a blank. Nothing. Nada. Zip. Dang, she was becoming forgetful.
The green medical diagnostic beam in Brooklyn’s wrist blinked off. “She is perfectly healthy.”
Her mouth opened. They were going a little nuts over a nap. Weren’t they? “What’s going on?”
Bei’s lips thinned. “Do you have a headache? Stiffness in the joints? Anything?”
“Bei?” She slipped off the bed, until her belly bumped his chest. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“Answer my questions.” In one swift motion, he scooped her into his arms and sat on the mattress with her on his lap.
This was better. She snuggled against his chest, pressed her cold nose against his warm neck. Served him right for worrying her. “I feel fine. No headache or stiffness. Just tired of not being able to see my shoes to tie them.”
“Fermites tie your shoes.” He stroked her hair, then her shoulder and arm.
Heat flickered to life inside her gut. He may have been reassuring himself, but her body was seeking another kind of affirmation. One best experienced without witnesses. “You’re missing the point.”
She wiggled on his lap.
He pinned her hips in place.
Brooklyn cleared his throat. “Chocolate shake?”
He waved a silver pouch at her.
Now they were bribing her with chocolate? She wasn’t proud, she’d take it, but she wasn’t going to forget. Her hand closed around the cool drink. A beige bubble burst out of the straw. She lapped up the chocolate. Bei was holding her, her babies weren’t bouncing on her bladder, and she had chocolate. Life didn’t get much better than this. She drained half the drink in two long draws then smacked her lips. “Alright, guys. What’s up?”
Brooklyn smoothed his curly black hair and backed out of the cabin. “I, uh, have to give check-ups to the miners.”
Miners? The shuttle was silent around her. They had landed on the mining base. Holy cow, she had slept nearly three hours.
“Coward.” Bei growled at his subordinate then kissed Nell’s hair, then her forehead. He nibbled at her ear.
Tilting her head to give him better access, she tossed the chocolate shake onto the tiny table near the head of the bed. She liked these kinds of distractions. Bei was so good at them. And she could undress him with a thought. Her palms slid over bare skin.
Nails clicked on the metal deck. “Nell Stafford, what is the purpose of this frequency of mating when you are already carrying offspring?”
Nell squeezed her eyes closed. This could not be happening. It just wasn’t fair.
Chuckling, Bei blew warm air down her chest.
Her bare chest. Geez Louise. There was a child, er, pup present. The fermites quickly redressed her. She pinched her husband’s pec. She was pretty sure this situation would be listed in the dictionary under not funny.
Ash smoothed the black feathers on his pointy head then sat back on his haunches. “Nell Stafford?”
“Why don’t you ask your parents?”
“I have.” Ash’s tail thumped the deck in pride. “They said that Humans must practice often so they don’t forget how it is done.”
Bei choked on a chuckle. Releasing her, he flopped back on the bed and grinned at the ceiling.
Nell smacked his hip. If she had to explain to the Amarook about the birds and the bees, then he was going to have the ‘talk’ with their sons when they were old enough. “Coward.”
Her husband cocked a black eyebrow. “Retreat is a valid military tactic. I can provide references.”
She just bet he could. She stuck out her tongue at him.
He winked at her.
“Nell?” Ash tugged on her leg. “The mating?”
She blew her bangs out of her eyes. The Amarook was like a dog with a bone. She smiled at the thought.
Ash filled her head with images of him eating Earth dogs for breakfast, in a bowl like cereal. He loved commercials almost as much as his sire.
“Go on, Nell Stafford.” Bei ran his hand down her backside. “Tell the feather head why you can’t keep your hands off me?”
“Keep it up, and I just might forget.” She crossed her arms over her chest. Let him stew on that for a bit.
He pinched her bottom. Hard.
Fermites soothed the sting. She slapped her husband’s hand away and set her feet on the ground.
He grabbed her around the waist and hauled her against his chest, tucking her head under his chin. “Humans touch to communicate love and caring. It creates a bond between those who touch. I touch Nell because she is mine.” His fingers danced over her stomach. “I touch our children because they are mine and I want them to know I’ll look over them, keep them safe.”
Her nose stung and her vision swam. Just when she thought he was a king-sized jerk, he went and said something like that, and she fell in love with him all over again. “Human mating isn’t about producing offspring, but becoming part of something bigger. Something unique to just the two of us. It is reassurance, and joy, and love.”
Ash’s black nose twitched. “Is that why he lies next to you when your brain goes dead?”
Bei growled. “Ash.”
Nell blinked. “My brain went dead?”
Instead of looking at her, Bei glared at the Amarook.
“Beijing York.” She fisted her husband’s shirt. “You better tell me, or I will find the biggest magnet in the universe and feed your circuits to it.”
Maybe the feather-face’s translator was off. Maybe he meant something else.
“You’re fine.” His hold tightened. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Holy crap. She’d been brain dead? She rubbed her forehead. But she felt fine.
Ash scratched his ear. “Nothing has happened to her any of the other times. Why would something happen now?”
“What other times?” Bei’s question mirrored her own.
“Every night for the last four months.” A downy black feather drifted on an air current. The pup snapped it up then spit it out. “Mother said it must be normal for Humans as Nell Stafford has come to no harm, and the babes remain healthy.”
Months? Nell had been brain dead off and on for months? Had she turned into a zombie? Or a vampire? Or…. Black twinkled in her peripheral vision. “Bei.”
“Breathe. Just breathe.” He cupped her nape. “Your cerebral interface captures all your experiences. We’ll access it and find out what’s going on.”
Right. He had a plan. A good plan. If she wasn’t freaked out, she might have thought of it. Then again, maybe stupidity was a side effect of being brain dead. It certainly fit the Hollywood paradigm. Except, vampires weren’t stupid. They tended to be cunning and smart. She could be a vampire.
But they couldn’t stomach chocolate.
Vampires sucked.
She squeezed his hand. He would take care of her, take care of them. “I love you.” Twisting on his lap, she combed her hair out of the way. “Do it.”
“Nell, I—”
“Admiral.” Chief Engineer Sydney Shang’hai’s voice rumbled through the shuttle’s public address system. “The miners found something we might be able to use.”
Nell glanced at the speaker. Shang’hai almost sounded excited. That couldn’t be. Even after nearly three years of freedom, the Syn-En still revealed their emotions only in the Wireless Array or in the privacy of their own cabins.
Bei’s eyes darkened as he merged with the CIC that linked him and his men.
Her neck tingled. She could join the cyber party, but no longer felt like broadcasting her every thought to her husband’s family and friends.
Ash rose up on his hind legs. “I would love to see that, too.”
Puppy dog eyes fixed on her, pleading.
She tried to turn away, but they appeared in her head. The Amarook didn’t play fair. She sighed and pushed to her feet. “Bei?”
He double-checked his weapon in the holster, then the knives in his boots. “The mining base is secure.”
“And you’ll be there.” She wasn’t afraid of the enemy. She was afraid of falling asleep and dying. Great ,she was living her own Nightmare on Elm Street. “What have they found?”
“An ancient temple of some sort.” Bei wrapped his arm around her waist and guided her down the corridor. “I don’t know how that will help us, but it doesn’t hurt to look.”
Ash leapt ahead and disappeared onto the lower deck.
Her insides tightened. She’d rather he inspect her brain box, find her fatal glitch.
He kissed her temple. “Everyone knows you are here, and they are anxious to see you.”
Right. Time to put on her tiara and smile for the people. As long as she didn’t start craving their brains, everything would be okay. God, her thoughts formed their own Hollywood mash-up. Maybe an outing was just what she needed. Something to distract her. Too bad it was history. “The Deutsche clan are mining here, aren’t they?”
She’d met the diggers on Erwar. They’d taken her husband in after his memory had been wiped by the Founding Five. She really hated the Founding Five. This war couldn’t end fast enough.
“Yes, Job and his family are here.” Bei kept her tight against him as they descended the ladder to the empty crew compartment.
Down the ramp, miners in black uniforms divvied up the rations. An older man with a salt and pepper beard rushed over to greet them. The NSA emblem winked in the bare bulbs lighting the mouth of the mine.
Cool, dry air blew over her face. Her stomach clenched. Panic welled up inside her. The ozone taste of recycled air hit her throat. Her boots rasped over the cut stone floor. Nell plastered on a smile. “Job.”
“Mizz York.” He grinned at her, displaying healthy teeth in an almost chubby face. The thick New York accent sounded odd from a man whose family hadn’t lived on Earth in generations.
“You are looking well.” She offered her hand.
He by-passed it to touch her belly. “I didn’t realize your time was so near. Soon the Deutsche clan will grow by one more.”
“Two.” Bei stood straight at her side. “We’re having twin boys.”
Nell smiled. Her children, like her husband and herself, were apparently community property. Usually she didn’t mind. Usually, she didn’t know she died in her sleep.
Job whistled through his teeth. “You don’t say? Fine sons, like you or…” His brown eyes cut to her.
“Syn-En are made, not born. Our children will be Human.” Or maybe a little bit more. Nell was more than biology. In addition to her brain box, she had her Syn-En skin, the Skaperians had tampered with her egg basket, and fermites infested her DNA.
Then there was the Meek soul inhabiting the twin of their conceived child.
If her life were a movie, Hollywood would have rejected it for being too outlandish.
“Too bad. We coulda used more of ’em. Give us all something to be.” Stepping back, Job led the way through the stacks of supplies, the lines to see the medics, and the recruits practicing military drills between two beetle-shaped Starflights.
“Tell us about the find.” Bei laced his fingers through hers as they walked down the mine shaft.
A string of bare bulbs ran down the corridor and disappeared around the corner. White dust coated everything. Powder swirled around her feet and clung to her pant legs.
I’m here, Nell. Bei’s thoughts brushed her mind.
Ash popped up between them, squeezing between their legs. I can protect her.
Job scratched his bald head. “We’ve found similar structures. All the Founding Five worlds have them. Most, they allow to be destroyed for the rare minerals. Others, they preserve and study, then destroy.”
They turned down a short corridor. Instead of serrations on the wall, this stone was worn smooth. Glyphs etched into the rock. An unintelligible narrative.
She averted her eyes. The darkness pressed against the bulbs, shrinking the balls of light. She stumbled.
Bei caught her against him. Do you need to rest?
She fisted his shirt. “No. No.”
Job slanted her a questioning glance.
Her recently dead brain was playing tricks on her. There was nothing in the darkness that wasn’t in the light. But what was in the light? She shivered. Fermites wove a coat around her, wrapping her in warmth infused with Bei’s scent. She would face her fears with Bei at her side. And if they didn’t go away once she laid eyes on the tomb, then she’d have Bei deal with them. He was good at that.
Voices drifted down the hall. The Skaperian scientists lectured in their slightly snooty nasally twang. “Definitely, an Erwarian temple. Although much older than the ones on Erwar.”
Omest, the Picaroon, droned on in monotone. “The minerals in the walls are just what is required to fabricate more armor for our forces.”
“I need to know quantities. Quantities are important to keep the war machine running.” Guenoc, the Plenipotens, pontificated above the scratching of his ever present pen on his ledger.
Job led her and Bei around the corner. Statues of strange creatures formed pillars near the post and lintel opening.
Hands on her hips, Shang’hai stared at the tomb’s ceiling. “If I could just find the power source, I could determine the purpose of this temple.”
Nell’s knees buckled. She shouldn’t go in there. She needed to leave, now while she had the chance.
Bei swept her into his arms. “I have you. I’ll keep you safe.”
Her hand rose of its own accord and brushed the last pillar as they passed. The stone warmed under her touch. Energy pulsed through the rock as the moon’s core woke up from its long slumber.
The feather-headed Skaperian scientists glanced at Shang’hai. “How did you?”
Shang’hai covered her mouth. Her almond-shaped eyes widened in her tan face. Her attention skittered off Nell to stick to Bei. “No. No.”
The elephant-eared Plenipoten recorded the events for posterity.
Fermites. Fermites are the key to powering the ancient technology. And if the aliens figured that out, then the enemy would know soon enough. And the bounty on her head would become obscene. Nell’s tongue was thick in her mouth. She dropped her hand and the power ebbed. Cold crept into the tomb. And Nell controlled the fermites.
She was so screwed.
kobo–
Wishing everyone the best in the New Year!
Now for the humor:
With the holidays close upon us, I would like to share a personal experience with my friends and family about drinking and driving. As you know, some of us have been known to have brushes with the authorities from time to time, often on the way home from a ‘social session” with family and friends. We’ll two days ago this happened to me. I was out for an evening with friends and had more than several whiskies, followed by a couple of bottles of rather nice red wine and vodka shots. Although relaxed, I still had the common sense to know I was slightly over the limit. That’s when I did something I’ve never done before. I took a taxi home. Sure enough on the way there was a police roadblock, but since it was a taxi they waved it past and I arrived home safely without incident. This was a real surprise to me, because i had never driven a taxi before. I don’t know where I got it, and now that it’s in my garage I don’t know what to do with it. So anyway, if you want to borrow it give me a call.
It’s nearly the end of the year and time to reflect on what the heck just happened:D Lots of things happened in 2015, thankfully most to the really bad stuff didn’t happen to me or my loved ones. Not that we didn’t have our share of sh*t but we managed to shower it off.
That said, there’s always room for improvement. So it’s time to adapt to the new 2016 paradigm.
I will attempt to write every day and not stuff 64K words into 17 days and 2-12 packs of Dr. Pepper. This can’t be good for a long term writing career or my health. And since books are my carrot of choice, I will reward my writing endeavors with books. You can never have enough books.
Or time to read them, but that is another post.
I will be kinder to those that deserve it and for those who wish to spoil my day by being a jerkwad, I will not acknowledge them beyond the occasional flightless bird or pithy comment.
The sarcasm stays. Everyone needs to vent so they don’t blow, besides sometimes I’m so good at it the idiot doesn’t recognize the sarcasm.
Lastly, every week, I will make a note of something good that happened and store it up for the end of the year, or when I need a kick in the gratitude pants.
So that’s it. My reflections may be short, but then again, I’m not a mirror:P
Until next time.
Linda Andrews 