Alexia sat on the deck, pretending to watch the sparkling tails of the Phoenix comet, but actually studying Rick. He had promised her a story, but instead was gazing into the star-studded darkness, and she wondered what was going through his mind. Memories of the past? Concerns about the future? A desire to run away screaming?
She wouldn’t blame him for that.
Then without turning to face her, he began. “I’ve mentioned how I came here to explore. Not to work for Sea-Mont. But I wanted access to discounted fuel, so I decided to take down some thugs. Not extensively, though. Just enough to get by. Then I heard about the infodroids.” He exhaled slowly. “At that time, only two had ever been wrangled. Both by accident, or at least, that’s what I was told. They were usually so slippery, and had so little bio-metal in their gangly bodies, they weren’t worth the risk. Because for every infodroid, there were always two or three thugs lurking nearby, protecting it.”
“But TJ pays more for them because of the data in their heads?”
He looked surprised but also pleased. “I forgot we told you about that. So yeah. He pays fifty-thousand per infodroid, compared to around twenty-thousand for a medium-sized thug. And he pays for scrap metal too, so a lot of the guys don’t wrangle at all. The point is, no one was going after nymphs—that’s what me and Sensie call them. And I didn’t need the extra money. But I decided to try it once, just for the experience.”
She listened, entranced, as he told the story of their first nymph hunt. It had taken a while to locate one, and when he’d first seen it, he had been so busy battling two huge thugs, he hadn’t paid it a lot of attention, other than to have Sensie track it. Finally, he had hauled both thugs aboard, then headed after the silvery-blue octopus in the distance.
He didn’t fire on her as he’d done on her protectors, since he didn’t want to damage her precious memory chip. So he had used only the electronic lariat. She had proven as slippery as described, slithering away more than once before he finally lassoed her, affixed a tow beam, and pulled her into the hull, careful not to damage her.
He had rushed to examine her, curious about the luminous eye-like patches on her arms. He would detach the head and carry it to the control room so he could download a copy of the data for his own use before stowing the head in the hull with the other bounty and returning to Destry for payment.
“But I wasn’t prepared for what I saw,” he said, turning for the first time to look Alexia in the eyes. “You should have seen her. Not just an astonishing piece of technology, but eerily alive. Graceful, vulnerable. Almost perfect really. The thought of dismantling her seemed fundamentally wrong.”
“May I tell the rest, Captain?” Sensie asked.
“Sure, go ahead.”
The computer spoke in hushed tones. “From the time the captain first built me, I had great respect for his intellect and straightforwardness. And great awareness of how dependent I was on him. And so I always cooperated fully, and obeyed his orders without question. But it wasn’t until that moment—when he returned to the control room and instructed me to release the nymph back into space—that I finally understood how fortunate I was to have fallen into his hands. I saw his respect for that cyber creature. For a form of life completely alien to his culture. And I swore allegiance to the goodness in his heart and in his human soul, knowing it was a miracle that he was the one to reclaim me.”
Alexia’s eyes swam with tears of delight. “You let it go? It’s so wonderful.” She stood and walked over to him, then kissed him gently. “She’s right, you know. She’s lucky. So am I.”
“You would have reacted the same way,” he said, his face flushed at the praise. “That nymph was alive. Sentient, actually. Not in a well-rounded way like Sensie, but still, she was self-aware. And aware of her surroundings. I just couldn’t hurt her.” He flashed a sheepish smile. “It’s hypocritical, right? I have no problem blasting holes in thugs.”
“Thugs attack you,” Sensie reminded him. “And they are single-purpose. The equivalent of single-celled organisms in the hierarchy of life. But you saw something more in that nymph, and you respected it.”
Alexia brushed her tears away. “So you released her. And you’ve never wrangled one again? But TJ thinks you have?”
“I wrangle them all the time,” he assured her. “Partly because I want the data. And I want Earth scientists to have it too. And partly to protect them, strange as it sounds.”
Sensie interrupted him. “It is not strange. Not at all. You need to understand, Alexia. The captain worried for days about that first nymph. She no longer had her thugs to protect her. It was just a matter of time before some other wrangler would spot her and find her easy prey. So he crafted a small skull from the bio-metal we keep on board for repairs. You should show her, Captain.”
“Yeah. Come on.” He led Alexia to his quarters and activated a small compartment in the wall, revealing a shelf. And on that shelf were five shimmering skulls.
“Oh! Can I touch one?”
“Be my guest.”
She held one reverently. “Is this the real thing? Or one you made?”
“I made these. To replace the real ones.” He gave her an encouraging smile as if to say he knew it was confusing. “We wrangle the nymphs and download their data. Then I replace the nymph’s head with this and we program a new chip to carry her far beyond the outer sectors, where she won’t be in any more danger. So I get the data for my own use. Sea-Mont and science get the data for whatever purpose, complete with original skull. And the nymph is out of danger. At least, danger from humans.”
“Earth humans.”
“Right.” He grinned. “As a bonus, the original nymphs contain tiny red signaling devices so they can summon nearby thugs when threatened. Since there aren’t any thugs where I’m sending them, I keep the beacons. I don’t know where Angelus gets his, though.”
“Maybe he wrangles nymphs too.”
“Him?” Rick snorted. “He’s never done an honest day’s work, trust me.”
“He saved me.”
“For a price,” he muttered. “I’m grateful, obviously. But he’s no saint.”
She glared in warning. “He hero-worships you. So be nice when you see him. I mean it.” She arched an eyebrow, but couldn’t keep it up. So she admitted, “You saved those nymphs. The same way you’re trying to save everyone else.”
“Stop that,” he insisted. “It’s not true.”
“Speaking of not true, how did you explain all this to TJ?”
He drew back, then chuckled. “Yeah, I see what you mean. He questioned me about bringing the heads without the bodies, and I told him the bodies weren’t worth it so I just threw them back. Because they had too little bio-metal compared to the room they took up in my hold. I guess he didn’t buy it.”
“I think he did. Because he trusted you. Right up until the time he found out we betrayed him by sleeping together.”
Rick shook his head. “You give him too much credit. He’s as evil as his father. I should have seen it sooner.”
Her heart ached for TJ but she knew better than to argue. Rick’s moral code was so strict, and he held himself to it so rigidly he couldn’t cut TJ any slack. Or Zeke for that matter. He judged those guys by his own standards, forgetting he had had certain advantages they must have lacked.
But she didn’t dare say that to him, mostly because it was ludicrous. What advantages had Rick had? Seeing his mother butchered before his eyes? Losing his father to violence? Watching his beloved comrades immolated and being helpless to save them?
“Hey, cowboy?”
“Yeah?”
“On behalf of females everywhere—cyber or otherwise—I’d like to give you an award. In bed. Just in case I didn’t make that part clear.”
She half-expected him to object. To say he didn’t deserve it. But he was a guy, and so he just grinned ear to ear, scooped her up in his muscular arms, and carried her to his bunk.
Zeke Angelus had a burning need to escape the basement prison of the Sea-Mont building. To help his beautiful blonde girlfriend. To help his crew. Even to help Alexia Montoya, although he suspected that particular cargo—precious as it was—was safe in the arms of her lover.
Zeke could use that guy’s assistance right about now. And he knew Rick Gage would help if he could. But like any guy, Gage had to put his girl first. So he’d take Alexia out to Sector Fourteen and frolic with her, leaving Zeke to save the day for the rest of them.
Fine by Zeke. He actually preferred saving Gabby single-handedly, thus fast-tracking himself from casual date to solid boyfriend.
Not to mention the need to re-establish his own invincibility to his crew. He had worked hard to cultivate that illusion. He could run any rip, procure any item, calculate any percentage, battle any foe. That was the leader they wanted. The leader they had chosen him to be.
Who was he to argue?
Only two things held him back. The lock on his cell door and his massive injuries, including broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder, a cracked jaw and a concussion, along with head-to-toe bruising and contusions.
Fucking Seatons and their fucking bootlickers.
He had been punched, stomped and otherwise assaulted by five cowardly but effective enforcers led by the supreme asshole Belker. That freak was a sadist, pure and simple, but Zeke had stayed alive, stayed strong, remembering his promise to Alexia that he would kill the fucker for her.
He still intended to do that, despite this godforsaken cell. Supposedly he was awaiting legal proceedings, but so far, no charges, no trial, no sentence.
Which meant the sentence was death. Probably by even more vicious and varied beatings. Unless he managed to free himself first.
He intended to do just that. He couldn’t count on Rick Gage, and he couldn’t count on his crew. For one thing, he had ordered them to stay away from the platform and Destry until they heard from him. He knew the Seatons would suspect the smugglers of grabbing Alexia, and because Sea-Mont had closed the sinkhole before the smugglers could possibly get her there, the Seatons would believe she was aboard one of Zeke’s ships, loitering just far enough from the sinkhole to evade detection, waiting things out.
Maintaining that illusion was pivotal to Alexia’s safety and the safety of his crew.
And it was probably keeping Zeke alive too, at least for the moment, since the whereabouts of the other smugglers was a wild card against which the Seatons wouldn’t want to bet. He chuckled, proud of the way he had made his crew sound impressively large, when it really consisted of seven core guys, four of whom were currently operating E-side and were thus of no use. Each crewmember, including Zeke, had numerous contacts in the military and Sea-Mont—people susceptible to bribery and who occupied positions that would help with fake transit papers, difficult procurements, and the spread of exotic bio-metal samples to collectors on Earth.
But in terms of actual henchmen? It was really just Zeke and two D-side operatives. Not much of a gang after all.
As he paced, reviewing his lack of options, the huge double doors to the prison slid open and a familiar figure appeared with a tray of food. “Good afternoon, Captain Angelus. How are we today?”
“Well, I’m fine and you’re a bitch. So no change since last time.”
The gray-haired woman laughed. “I see you’ve been wearing the brace I gave you, so let’s assume your ribs are healing nicely. The swelling in your face has gone down too. And now you have some delicious pasta for your dining pleasure.”
Zeke eyed Meg Bodin in disgust. She called herself a physician, but was really just another lackey. Sure, she had finally supplied him with a brace for his aching ribs, a sling for his arm, and some pain pills. But before that, she had let him suffer for three days, during which time Belker had been the one to deliver his food, but only after informing him that every guard on duty had pissed in the meal first. Just to show Zeke they cared.
That at least had stopped, although he didn’t give this so-called doctor any credit for it. He would eat her food and wear her slings and braces. Anything to keep his strength up. But he wouldn’t thank her. Nor would he take the pills, which were almost certainly designed to weaken, not strengthen him.
Taking the tray now, he muttered, “You’re a disgrace to your profession. And to the Montoyas who made this place—and your fucking success—possible.”
She seemed hurt by the observation. “You see yourself as some kind of hero, but you’ve endangered this miraculous place, and the Montoya memory, more than anyone. If you had just let the romance between TJ and Alexia take its course, she’d be safe and happy now. Instead of dead in the sinkhole, thanks to your reckless intervention.”
He wasn’t sure the doctor really believed Alexia was dead. Belker and his cronies certainly did, and had had the hypocrisy to kick him a few extra times in the face and gut “for Alexia Montoya”, and as Belker always added, for depriving him of the chance to “get a piece of her before she died”.
It was one thing for those creeps to act like savages, but this doctor? An educated, sophisticated, well-spoken woman, and yet without a shred of conscience, honor or compassion.
The good news was, Dr. Bodin hadn’t mentioned Gabby, so hopefully the Seatons still didn’t know about the communications director’s affair with a lowly smuggler. And probably didn’t suspect her of helping Alexia either. He and Gabby kept their relationship quiet for the sake of her job, but he knew at least three of the residents suspected something. Pretty little Lana for sure. Carlos the nurse. And Barbara, who didn’t miss anything. Zeke would thank them someday for their silence. Meanwhile, he prayed they wouldn’t crack under the pressure of questioning or a desire to curry favor in this un-brave new world.
Turning his back on the doctor, he waited to hear the doors slide shut behind her.
Then he announced to his absent girlfriend, “I’m coming, beautiful, so hang in there. Kiss up to that fucking TJ like you always do. Pretend you still love him. Once I’m out, we’ll roast his balls and feed ’em to the bogs. Then it’ll just be you and me, and you’ll never regret it. I promise you that.”
After six hours in the ACTs, Alexia and Rick were back in the control room, eating a light dinner and drinking copious liquids in preparation for their next stint in the capsules. They had agreed to this schedule—six hours in, three hours out, again and again until the platform was close enough for Sensie to scan it.
It would take two full days, and Alexia couldn’t wait.
She knew Rick felt differently. He was hoping a miracle would occur, and Zeke’s crew—or better still, Zeke himself—would contact them, saying the sinkhole had reopened and they were ready to whisk Alexia back to Earth.
That was Rick’s dream, but she hungered for something different. They would dock at the platform, storm the place, and free Zeke and Gabby. Then they’d all head for Sector Fourteen to rendezvous with Zeke’s crew.
She only hoped there were hundreds of them!
“Captain?” Sensie asked brightly. “Shall I show you my schematics while you eat?”
“Yeah, and pull up an example of a brain map too.”
“Yes, sir.”
Alexia watched in annoyance as four oversized soft screens appeared in midair before Rick’s intent gaze.
“You’re doing this now? Shouldn’t we make a rescue plan?”
Rick shrugged. “With any luck, the sinkhole will open and you’ll go through. Then Sensie and me will do what we do best. What I’m trained to do.”
“Unless David decides to execute his prisoners when he hears I’m back on Earth.”
Rick shrugged again. “TJ won’t let him hurt Gabby. And David’s too smart to kill Zeke. Those smugglers are ex-military. Brawlers. No moral code, but loyal as hell. As long as Zeke’s alive, they’ll hang back. But if their leader is executed, they’ll swarm the place. So don’t worry about Angelus.”
“You’re so full of it,” she muttered.
He laughed. “You’re hot for a battle, but I predict the sinkhole opens in the next twenty-four hours. Sea-Mont needs supplies from Earth. Earth needs bio-metal. The pressure’s on, and David will cave. Trust me.”
She could see his attention was divided between her and the schematics. And the schematics were winning.
As if to confirm it, Rick said, “You need to conserve your strength. Eat up. Then take a nice, long nap.”
“Or watch a video,” Sensie suggested.
Alexia rolled her eyes. “I’m not a child. I can keep up with this brain mapping stuff, thank you very much.”
“Of course you can,” Sensie replied, still condescending. “I just thought you’d enjoy watching the captain’s heroic struggle against the eighteen-foot thug.”
She vaguely remembered him describing that to her, characterizing it as his excuse for returning to Destry ahead of schedule, but sounding so proud, calling it Goliath. She had been too woozy at the time to be impressed, but now admitted it sounded exciting.
“Okay, set me up in Rick’s quarters.”
“Take your food,” he reminded her.
His tone said it all. He couldn’t wait to get rid of her so he and his sentient could talk science. She didn’t really mind, as long as that was all they discussed.
“Don’t make any decisions without me,” she warned.
“Fair enough.”
She smiled, kissed his jaw, then took her meal to his bunk to watch the show.
Even through his flight suit, her lover’s muscles visibly rippled and bulged as he struggled against the superior size and bulk of the behemoth. The beast. A freaking mountain of a robot.
Alexia couldn’t get enough of it. Not just because her hero flexed and maneuvered and basically staged an amazing show, but because he looked so happy doing it.
She had seen that expression before. On the trip to the Titans, when he had faced a “twelve-footer” and an “eight-footer” at the same time.
Exuberant. Joyful. As though a great weight had lifted for a few minutes. Or in the case of the behemoth, a full hour.
After the video, Sensie provided a bonus feature: Rick lassoing bio-metal fragments in the asteroid ring. He chased them, roped them, then hauled them in, all the while dodging other hunks of metal and debris and, in some cases, sizeable planetoids. Once again, he was in his glory, whooping with glee, free of the pain his first thirty-two years of life had inflicted on him.
It all made so much sense. He had come here instinctively. To a world without humans. A world filled with lifeless chunks of metal, uncharted stars, and endless adventure. His only companion? A sentient who could never, ever die. His occasional bedmates? Bio-girls. Anonymous by design, unfettered by choice. He preferred them, not because the sex was better—or at least, not necessarily—but because it was simpler.
Alone but not lonely.
Boom.
And because Sensie was Alexia’s double in so many ways, she had known instinctively she needed this reminder, so she would never crowd this guy. Never ask more than he could give. If they could find a way to meet up occasionally, that would be perfect. But she could willingly fade away if that was what he needed. It seemed trite to say she loved him enough to let him go, but it was true.
And wasn’t it mutual? Even if he wanted to hang out together, he knew she had to find Trent. And Trent wasn’t in Sector Fourteen.
“Hey,” Rick asked from the doorway. “You doing okay?”
She nodded. “It reminds me of my childhood, actually.”
He walked to the bunk and sat close to her. “How so?”
“Dad and Trent were always talking science. Just like you and Sensie are doing. With giant screens floating everywhere, filled with equations and diagrams. And I’d be in the next room reading a romantic adventure novel or watching a dance video.” She stroked his handsome face. “The difference is, Dad never checked on me. It was like he forgot I existed. And Trent tried to remember, but the data was too mesmerizing. But you…” She looped her arms around his neck. “You actually want to be here. With me. And Sensie’s always here, even when she’s in the other room. It’s so amazing, Rick. I’ll never forget it.”
“There’s no place I’d rather be,” he assured her.
“Did you figure out the brain mapping?”
“It’s gonna take some time. But your brother’s a miracle worker for sure. I can’t wait to meet him.”
“You’re so sure he’s alive?” she murmured.
“I thought we settled that.” He pretended to scowl. “Are we gonna fool around or not? Because otherwise, I’m back to the brain maps.”
She pulled him down alongside her, then shivered with anticipation. “You’re the captain.”
“Damned right,” he said, a mischievous grin shining through the bluster. “So just lie back and let me be in charge for once.”
“Gabrielle? Are you feeling up to a visitor?”
Gabby roused herself from a woozy, sedative-induced fog and replied cautiously to Dr. Meg Bodin, “A visitor? Who is it?”
“Mr. Seaton.”
“Oh, thank God.” She struggled to sit up despite the restraints on her wrists and ankles. “I need to brush my hair first. Can’t you unhook these?”
“They’re for your own protection. You’ve been incoherent on and off since the procedure. And your hair looks fine.” Arching an eyebrow, the doctor said, “He’s a very busy man. You don’t want to keep him waiting.”
“Right, right.” She exhaled sharply, knowing she would now get some real answers. She hadn’t spoken with anyone but Meg in days. Ever since they pumped her stomach. She vaguely remembered being roused in her apartment by that animal Belker, but she’d been too drugged to react, thanks to the extra pill she had slipped into her mouth when Alexia wasn’t looking, bringing the total dose to a comfortable two-and-one-half times the prescribed amount.
She still worried about her appearance, but was confident TJ would free one or both of her hands as soon as Meg left the room. Then she could make some repairs while they planned what to do next.
The doctor walked to the door and said, “Mr. Seaton? Ms. Rousseau will see you now.”
Gabby’s heart pounded the way it always did when TJ came near. So much had changed, and she knew she should be smarter, tougher, but she loved him so much, she just couldn’t resist.
Then a tall, balding man with narrow, unforgiving eyes appeared in the doorway and she gasped out loud. “Oh! I thought…”
“You thought my son had come to call?” David’s grin was as caustic as his tone. “You just can’t help yourself, can you?”
Gabby sighed, remembering the drill with this particular monster. The best response was no response. She had given him plenty of openings in the past and each time he had mocked and skewered her.
Not this time.
So she said nothing. Nor did she shy away from his piercing gaze.
“How are you feeling?” he asked finally.
“I’m fully recovered, sir, and ready to get back to my post.”
He moved closer to the bed, his attitude softening, but only slightly. “My son promised me you were loyal, and he was right. I am sincerely sorry that Montoya bitch almost killed you. Luckily, my enforcers got there in time.”
Gabby knew she’d regret it, but just had to say, “I don’t think she wanted to kill me, sir. Just knock me out for a few minutes. She had cold feet. Lots of brides—”
“Save it for someone who believes in fairy tales,” he growled. “She tried to kill you. Then she took off with the smugglers, ready to make a fool out of my son—and me—by describing how she jilted him. Luckily, the sinkhole swallowed her up. She’s out of my hair for good, and the smugglers who helped her are either dead or in prison, awaiting execution.”
That was the official story, but Gabby clung to the belief that the Seatons were lying. Zeke couldn’t be dead. He was simply too accomplished a criminal for that. If he had actually managed to get Alexia to the sinkhole, getting away would have been child’s play.
But if the Ace of Hearts had been intercepted before it could reach the sinkhole…
That was the fear. If David’s forces had fired on Zeke’s ship, then all was lost.
“The news bulletin said Alexia actually went through with the marriage, then ran off after that. But it’s not true, is it?”
David hesitated, then admitted, “There are only five people in the universe who know the real truth. That they were never married. We’re trusting you to take it to your grave.”
“I’d do anything for TJ,” she murmured. “How’s he doing?”
“The grieving widower?” David chuckled. “He feels bad for a while. Then he bangs a couple of bio-girls and everything’s fine.”
“I’d like to see him. Is that possible?”
“It wouldn’t look right. His bride just died a horrible death, and you’re his ex. An ex who’s ten times more gorgeous than the dead wife. But eventually, you can see him. In fact…” David exhaled loudly, then shocked her by saying, “I will encourage him to marry you.”
“What?”
“You’ve been loyal. And we need to keep tabs on you. So all in all, it’s practical.” His smile became a sneer. “You’ll be a rich woman, since my son just inherited the Montoya half of the company. Play your cards right, give me a halfway intelligent grandson, and it’ll all be his someday. On the other hand…” He leaned closer, his breath hot on her cheek. “If you cross me, I’ll let Belker and his buddies rip you to shreds.”
A tear slid down her cheek, and because of her restraints, she couldn’t wipe it away. All she could do was whisper, “TJ would never let that happen.”
“You sound like the Montoya bitch.”
“Pardon?”
He winced, apparently remembering Gabby’s limited role in all this from the Seatons’ point of view. TJ would have explained to David that Alexia pretended to go along with the wedding plans and enlisted Gabby as a maid of honor, then drugged her when her back was turned. To them, Gabby was as much a victim of Alexia’s deceit as they themselves.
They had no idea that Alexia had confided the real truth—the threats and coercion—to Gabby, or that Gabby had been a willing conspirator in the escape plan to the point of enlisting the aid of her clandestine lover. It was funny, actually. Everyone thought they knew the truth, but each only saw it through an incomplete lens.
Including Gabby, who actually didn’t know the fate of Alexia or Zeke.
Any other man would have tried to explain his misstatement about Belker and Alexia, but David didn’t bother. And she knew why. He thought her so weak, such a pushover for TJ, he didn’t care if she learned the whole truth. He could control her by using her love for his son, and if that didn’t work, he could murder her and get away with it. Did he have a preference? Probably not.
“You don’t seem very excited,” he goaded her. “I’m offering you my son’s hand in marriage. Isn’t that your heart’s desire?”
It had always been exactly that, right from the first moment she’d met the brash, well-built, golden-haired businessman. He had witnessed a bully harassing her in a bar and had swooped in, charming and rescuing her in one powerful, romantic gesture. She had worshipped at his feet, so madly in love it frightened her. Then she had followed him through the sinkhole, made love with him in blissful submission, and even when he broke it off, had stayed around, praying he’d finally see how perfect they were for each other.
Even now, to her shame, she wanted to marry the guy. Start fresh. Forgive and forget. None of this was TJ’s fault. Not in the ways that counted. It was David, the monster who had tortured him from the day he was born, who had set all this in motion. At heart, TJ was noble and kind and capable of infinite love. The monster had twisted him, and true love could twist him back.
And now the monster was awaiting her answer, so she said with a sniff, “Marrying TJ is my heart’s desire, but like you said, he needs to grieve. So we’ll let him bang a few more bio-girls, then when he’s ready, I’ll marry him.”
The monster burst out laughing. “Well said! You might make a decent daughter-in-law after all.” Striding to the doorway, he seemed ready to leave without another word. Then he turned, his tone philosophical. “I made one mistake in all this. You might be the only person in the world who can appreciate the irony of it.”
“What do you mean?”
“I should have taken Roberto’s daughter for myself. Gotten her pregnant with a new and better son of my own, instead of settling for a grandson.” He paused to enjoy Gabby’s horrified gasp, then continued. “She was right there. Ripe for the taking. In my bed.” He chuckled malevolently. “My fucking bed, no pun intended. That was an omen, don’t you think? How did I miss it?”
Gabby stared, chilled to the bone. She had called him a monster, but until this very moment, hadn’t seen it firsthand in all its fiendish glory.
And despite her many regrets, she now knew it was a good thing if Alexia Montoya was dead in the sinkhole and thus beyond the reach of this abomination forever.