Mated to the Cyborgs(38)

She paced from the door to the tiny table in the makeshift eating area. The place was set up like an efficiency apartment back on Earth, a barely-there kitchen—because most times the warriors ate together in the community dining halls—two couches and the S-Gen unit in the corner. There was a chair I could imagine curling up in to read, and a very large bed that I couldn’t bear to look at just now. Remembering what my mates had done to me in it would distract me from my plan.

“I know you’re right, but these aren’t drug dealers or pimps, Kristin. And this isn’t Earth. They’re Hive.”

I shook my head. I knew enough. “I’ve been reading about them. Reading the reports. I’ve pored through hundreds, maybe thousands of documents in the database over the last few days. I know what I’m getting into. They’re trying to re-assimilate everyone on this planet, to take it over, and I’m not going to let them have my mates, or anyone else.”

“What?” Rachel’s dark brows winged up and she stopped cold. “What did you just say?”

I crossed my arms over my chest, my dark blue tunic and pants annoying to me now when I wanted to be wearing armor like my mates.

I sighed. “Come on, Rachel. Are you trying to tell me that’s not exactly what you think is going on here?”

She shook her head and took a couple steps closer to me, her voice slow, each word drawn out as if she was thinking about them even as they left her mouth. “No…but how could you possibly know that? We haven’t told the rest of the citizens on the Colony for fear it would start a panic. How did you find out?”

Tilting my head to the side, I raised one brow and knew the skepticism showed on my face. “Really? It’s all there, in the reports. You just have to read between the lines.”

“Shit.” Rachel laughed. “You are good.”

I grinned and it felt fabulous that my assumptions had been validated. “It’s what I do.”

“Yes, you’re right. Fine.” She sighed. “I’m going to get in trouble for this, but all right. I’m in. If we’re going to be BFFs, we might as well start raising hell and breaking them in. I’d been doing it all by myself up until now. It’ll be better with a partner-in-crime. What do you want to do?”

I hugged her. Hard. I couldn’t help it. “BFFs,” I agreed.

She grinned, hugging me back, her face full of mischief. “Okay, Miss FBI. What kind of trouble are we going to get into today?”

I let her go and paced in front of her, gathering my thoughts. “I read your medical reports. I read about the death of Captain Brooks and about the man you think was responsible, the Prillon medical officer who disappeared. Krael?”

Rachel’s expression said more than words. Hate was strange to see on her normally kind face. “Yes. That’s his name. He murdered Brooks and nearly killed Maxim and then disappeared, crawled back into a hole like the rat he is. Others would have died if we hadn’t figured out what he’d been up to.”

“I don’t think the fact that Krael was never caught, and that now, three months later, warriors are disappearing is just a coincidence. Did he have friends? Family? Who did he train with? Eat with? Sleep with? Work with?”

“He worked in medical with Doctor Surnen. I can vouch for the doc. He’s arrogant, but he’s no traitor. He nearly worked himself to death trying to figure out what was going on with Maxim. At first he was a misogynistic jerk, but he’s grown on me and I think I may have changed his perspective on some things. As for the rest of your questions, I don’t know, but we can find out.”

“Yes, we can.” Our gazes locked and I knew she was all-in. “But first I need armor, and a gun.”

Rachel told me to strip and led me to the S-Gen pad where she ordered armor and then helped me get into it. I looked good, and the armor was surprisingly lightweight and flexible. Formfitting and maneuverable. Rachel gave me a critical once-over and nodded. “Good. The armor will deflect basic ion blasts, but that’s all I know about it.”

I pulled the small, silver ion blaster from its holster on my thigh and felt my face practically crack in half, my smile was so big. It felt good to hold a weapon again, to know it was to help track down a bad guy and end him. “Do you know how to fire this thing?”

She shook her head. “I’m a lab nerd. Sorry.”

With a shrug, I turned, pointed at the reading chair and fired. An explosion of sound accompanied the chair bursting into flames, the fluffy guts that I’d once sat upon floating through the air like glowing cinders from a wood fire riding a breeze.