Surrender to the Cyborgs(40)
“Excellent idea,” Prime Deston agreed. “Never underestimate a woman, Doctor. She is human. Allow her to honor her fallen friend.”
The doctor glanced from me to my mate and his shoulders slumped. “Of course. Lady Rone, you are welcome in my lab.”
“Thank you.” Rachel’s soft voice carried and it seemed like a spell had been broken. Everyone who had been frozen with shock suddenly seemed to reanimate at double speed. Dishes clattered as the tables were cleared. Voices rose in volume as speculation ran rampant through the room and those who had witnessed the captain’s collapse spread the word. Soon, the entire planet would know what had happened here. And we needed to be able to give them answers.
“Doctor, gather your team and determine the exact cause of death. If Captain Brooks has a hair out of place, anything suspicious or out of the ordinary, I want to know about it.”
The doctor inclined his chin, turned on his heel and walked away. When I stood with Rachel tucked into my side, Ryston beside her and the Prime, Ander and Queen Deston in a small circle, the Prime’s frown made my skin crawl.
“You know what this means, Governor. I’m sorry.”
Fuck. I was afraid this would happen. “Let’s not make the announcement right away. I don’t want the men to lose hope, not when the taste is so fresh on their tongues.”
Rachel’s hand slid down my arm and her small fingers wrapped around my wrist. “What is he talking about? What announcement?”
Prime Deston looked down at my mate, his eyes clouded with regret. “No more brides.”
“What? Why?” Rachel’s hand tightened like a vice.
“It’s too dangerous,” I answered.
She shook her head as I continued.
“We can’t bring brides here, Rachel, not until we know exactly what’s happening to us.”
“It’s one man. Just one.”
“No, love. I’m afraid it’s not.” I looked at Ryston, who nodded his head and I shook my arm free of Rachel’s hold and rolled the sleeve of my dress tunic up far enough to expose the Hive implants. The Queen’s soft cry assured me I’d made my point even before Rachel’s fingertips traced the silver lines of the implants, and the black maze that spread like a web from shoulder to wrist just below the surface of my skin.
“What? When did this happen?” She lifted her gaze to mine, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. “You didn’t have this last night when you were…”
Naked and buried balls deep? Making her whimper and shiver and beg for release? No. A few hours ago, I’d had nothing to worry about. And now, I had the precursor of death spreading in my flesh.
***
Rachel
My mates escorted me down the color-coordinated hallways to our suite. They remained silent. I could sense their anger and hostility, but I was deep in thought. Sadness. Captain Brooks had not died from an overdose. While he had been upset at what the Hive had done to his body, he was a fighter. I refused to believe he would submit to the brides program’s testing, and then drown himself in drugs. And right before a formal dinner?
No way. I knew pain. I’d witnessed countless people fighting for every last ounce of breath as cancer ate them away from the inside. I knew what defeat looked like. And Captain Brooks had not looked defeated. He’d looked mad as hell, bitter but proud, ready to give this life a chance.
Submitting to the brides program testing was the first step, and he’d taken it. All of the warriors on the Colony had the same anguish at being changed by the enemy, but they were not alone. Everyone had the same horrible things happen to them. But they survived and were building new lives, a new planet.
Perhaps the captain had taken Quell. Perhaps he was using it to ease his mind. No doubt he had PTSD along with everyone else. That didn’t mean he died because of it. The black streaks, the duration it took for them to develop, it didn’t lead me to think it was an overdose. There was something else at play here. I wasn’t a clueless, eyes-on-the-microscope scientist any longer.
Been there, done that. The naïve fool who’d trusted the company CEO to do what was right instead of what was profitable was long gone. I’d spent lengthy hours in my prison cell growing very familiar with how the bad guys worked, how they deceived.
The door slid silently closed behind us. Ryston grabbed a weird-looking black thing, something like a TV remote from a table by the door and hurled it across the room.
I jumped when it smashed into pieces, scattering on the floor in a shower of jagged shards. His rage was not quiet or controlled. It crushed him like he was a grape beneath a giant’s boot. His fear and anger were leaking from him as if he’d been torn in two.