Syn-En: Registration Read online

  Hatred flickered in Pet’s brown eyes when he glanced at Elvis. “Yes, there is the Amarook.”

  “Ill-mannered lout.” Elvis hunkered low, curled his tail around his backside and folded his ears. He faced Pet and flexed his claws. “Earth canines didn’t do a very good job raising Humans.”

  “For the last time, I am from Earth.” If Pet didn’t start cooperating soon, she’d let the Amarook rip out his throat. She’d seen enough movies to know letting the bad guys live another day meant they returned and caused trouble later. Given the trust the others placed in him, she’d give him one more chance. “Where’s my stuff?”

  Pet sighed. His body sagged in defeat. “The corner cabinet.”

  Elvis darted toward the target. He sniffed the cabinet before pushing on a rosette. The panel slid open. Orderly stacks of supplies filled the space between her helmet and Elvis’s.

  “If you don’t need me for anything else, I’m leaving.” Rising, Pet crossed his arms.

  Ck’dow scuttled backward. “We’ll be up in a minute. Do you need me to carry a barrel or a case of wine?”

  “Wine?” Pet blinked. “Um, yeah, I’ll pull out a few barrels and set them by the door.”

  Ck’dow stroked his shoulder when he passed.

  He’d forgotten? Obviously, the man had been so busy destroying the mainframe he’d forgotten his cover story.

  Pet tucked his hands in his pockets and shuffled forward.

  Too bad she couldn’t denounce the creep and take charge of the group.

  “Wait!” Elvis growled.

  Pet froze, but didn’t turn—shoulders board straight, back rigid.

  The Amarook sniffed the air before stalking Pet. Elvis circled the man then stuck his nose on the other’s bulky front pocket. “The portable diagnostic unit is in your pants.”

  Elvis drummed the claws on his hands together as if anticipating shredding the trousers and exposing the device.

  Pet slowly withdrew his hand, pulling out the smartphone-sized device. “I thought this was a game. Zahar’s little brother is bedridden. Since he can’t attend the party, I thought he’d enjoy playing while we ate lavishly.”

  Oooh, insulting and manipulative, and still trying to get into that defenseless girl’s pants. Nell admired Pet’s mastery even as she longed to kick him in the shins and other soft, dangly bits. “I’m sure he’ll enjoy being treated and possibly cured even more.”

  Elvis plucked the diagnostic unit from Pet’s hands then sniffed the man’s other pocket and sneezed. Snot droplets stained the wool trousers. “You may leave.”

  “Thank you, Master.” Hands fisted at his side, Pet stormed from the room.

  Ck’dow’s arms dangled in front of her slim body like a tattered green apron. “He means well. I believe he’s so accustomed to being the one everyone turns to, that he finds this a little difficult.”

  “I’m sure that’s it.” Nell stuffed the medical supplies into the first-aid kit then turned to the personal items. Nothing seemed missing. She fingered the ragged edges of her ration bag. Had she eaten it? She checked the contents. Anger roiled under her skin. No chocolate shake. She double-checked the contents. Chicken stew. Peppermints. Gnarly bread. No drink.

  “Don’t bother wasting your time. I smelled chocolate on his breath.” Elvis shrugged before stuffing his helmet inside hers.

  “The man is evil. Pure evil.” She packed the remaining belongings into Elvis’s saddle bags then strapped them on the Amarook.

  Ck’dow backed out of the room. “Will you need all of your supplies to treat the boy?”

  “We’ll need to go topside to communicate with the rest of our group.” And Mom would be able to tell Nell how to use the pieces to fix the Icarus’s communications system.

  “But the party…” Ck’dow stroked a barrel of Skaperian wine.

  “We’ll still have the party.” Nell shrugged into her pack, but carried the first aid kit over her arm. No way would she let it out of her sight again. Some of these aliens didn’t seem very gung-ho about freedom. “But first I will see the boy.”

  Elvis stroked the diagnostic unit in his hand. It powered on with a soft hum. “We should be able to make him comfortable, even if we cannot heal him.”

  “Let’s go.” Curing him would help to gain the other’s trust and marginalize Pet’s influence. Tingles raced across the back of her skull. She shut the mainframe’s door and followed Elvis and Ck’dow through the wine cellar.

  Mom stirred inside Nell’s head. Hello, dear. I was worried. Where did you disappear to?

  Elvis waggled the diagnostic device at her.

  The outline of a face stared out of it, looked up then down.

  Of course, she’d connect to it. The Syn-En had manufactured the device and designed her cerebral interface to connect to their technology. We fell down the rabbit hole, Mom, and lost our connection to the ship. We have new allies and a sick kid.

  New allies? Oh! The Skaperians are dead. On screen, Mom’s mouth thinned.

  A pins and needles sensations crawled over Nell’s skull and tightened her scalp. She hated when Mom rooted around in her brain.

  I can’t believe Pet did that, Mom huffed. I don’t like that man at all.

  Of course not, Mom. You’re an extension of me and my thoughts. At least, that was the theory.

  “She has good taste.” Elvis tucked the diagnostic unit into his saddlebags and patted the side pouch where it rested.

  Ck’dow bowed before sliding two casks of wine onto her long back. Iridescent wings folded over the barrels, securing them in place. “Thank you, but I did not select the vintage. Pet did.”

  “I’ll bet.”

  Elvis sniggered then sneezed.

  “Do not judge Pet too harshly.” Ck’dow’s steps fell heavier with her burden. “Skaperian wine is highly prized and very scarce since the Surlat strain outbreak. Pet trades it to merchants in the embassies to purchase the items that keep us alive.”

  Mom huffed inside Nell’s head. I would very much like to examine these merchant records, but I am locked inside this box.

  Pet destroyed the mainframe, otherwise you’d have cyberspace to roam. Nell rushed ahead and opened the outer door for Ck’dow.

  Mom shifted. If he destroyed the mainframe why are the lights and everything still on? I believe you have been conned.

  Nell hung her head. Leave it to her mother to point out the obvious.

  Elvis squeezed through the door after the Ck’son. “She has a point.”

  The mantis glanced over her shoulder. “Sorry. I don’t always know where my arms are.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” Nell stroked the Amarook’s fur. Yet, she couldn’t go searching for the mainframe with so many aliens keeping an eye on her and so many of them willing to tell the odious Pet. Can you find the other mainframe, Mom?

  Not from here. The Icarus has a map of the embassy.

  That’s what she thought.

  Elvis sent a bundle of frustration.

  It twitched under Nell’s skin and twirled through her insides.

  Elvis sent her an image of him standing over Pet’s mutilated carcass. “Do you think you could find someone to guide us to the surface?”

  “Of course.” Ck’dow eyed the banister before gingerly mounting the stairs. Her long legs skipped every two steps as she climbed. “Will you bring back the rest of your team? We will gladly share what we have.”

  “I don’t know.” Nell’s thighs burned as she trudged onward and upward. A month in low gravity sure took its toll on her body. Panting for breath, she rested on the landing.

  Gravity is one-point-three times what you have become accustomed to, Dear. And remember you slept for over a hundred years.

  How could she forget? Gripping the banister, Nell pulled herself up. The steps wouldn’t climb themselves.

  Ck’dow waited at the top. “You don’t know if your team will return with you, or if you’ll find them?”

  Doubt edged the mantis
’s words.

  Damn, she’d underestimated Pet. His malicious innuendo already caused trouble. She increased her pace. Her heart battered her ribcage. “My team is probably spread out across the planet by now.”

  “Each has a specialized job to do.” Elvis padded up the last few feet. The feather-face wasn’t even winded. “With the mainframe broken, they may have to find another embassy to complete their mission.”

  Nice cover. Nell shunted a measure of gratitude and a picture of a dozen severed caprinae heads at the Amarook.

  A gossamer line of drool leaked from Elvis’s mouth. Slurping it back up, he trotted to the basement door and opened it.

  Ck’dow ducked as she slipped into the hallway. “And what is your job?”

  Elvis lobbed an image of a steaming pile of steer dung at Nell.

  She raised her chin. Little did the Amarook know, she could bullshit with the best of them. “I’m here to document the moment. And I think filming you, the Padgows, the Shish and the rest of the Humans will be perfect footage. I know my people will love to meet our new companions and learn your stories.”

  Except the camera blew up during the EMP surge.

  They don’t know that, do they? Nell cleared her throat. Sometimes she didn’t miss Mom’s annoying voice of reason. At all.

  “I would be honored.” Ck’dow opened the door leading to the room off the terrace. Music filtered inside and echoed around the frescoed walls. “Do you think they will like us?”

  “What’s not to like?” Giant praying mantises with razor-sharp arms, stinging mopheads, and multi-limbed aqua-aliens to drag a person down to Davy Jones’s locker. It was the stuff of the best movies. Throw in an evil ruler and a loyal companion, and Nell had a blockbuster on her hands.

  You’re gonna need a large PR budget to spin this so the Syn-En don’t object to the extra responsibilities.

  Thanks for the reminder, Mom. Nell walked out the open French doors and into a fog scented with roasted meat. Maybe she should turn off the diagnostic unit.

  I heard that.

  Zahar rushed across the stone terrace and dropped to her knees in front of Nell and Elvis. “Please. Come quick. My brother fell and isn’t moving!”

  Chapter 16

  Groat leaned back in his chair and propped his boots on his scratched metal desk. His armor creaked almost as much as the Crobahyde upholstered chair. “Naturally, I’ll keep to our previous deal.”

  His informants always appreciated the little extras he threw their way. Especially as they had so little. Better still, he obtained his contraband from the other Founding Five’s embassies.

  His bottom line was always shiny black, and his influence just as good as the Munican’s stink. Opening his top drawer, he withdrew his armor lubricant and squirted a line on his top right forearm. Inhaling deeply, he filled his lungs with the musky scent of Tiopin’s oil. The finest in the known galaxy.

  And the first species to fall under Scraptor protection nearly a million years ago.

  Groat massaged the oil across his armor, increasing pressure so he could feel it.

  The human face on the video screen glanced over his shoulder. “There’s just one thing.”

  “Which is?” Wasn’t there always? That was the problem with informants—sometimes they forgot their place. Groat snapped his claw in front of the video screen. Still, this one proved particularly useful.

  Left to their own, Humans cultivated dangerous potential.

  And Earth had remained unharvested for nearly one hundred-twenty solar cycles.

  The inferior race had flown within two light years of Erwar before being detected. His skin itched under his armor. He scrubbed harder but couldn’t soothe the irritation. His ships had been patrolling for days and found nothing. All signs indicated an isolated ship. But he didn’t trust the treacherous non-sentients.

  The Human male licked his lips. “The woman has been telling everyone she is from Earth.”

  “What!” Groat’s feet slammed to the shabby Amarook hide stretched across his marble floor.

  “Apparently, she didn’t come from the tunnels. She literally fell from the sky.”

  From Earth. Mopus had picked up on four signatures, yet they’d only pulled three inferiors off the ship and had found no one else. Could Groat’s scanners have missed a female? Perhaps, but she would have blown-up with her ship. The breed needed further study. He never should have allowed Mopus to reprogram them and place them in Scraptor mines.

  But how could she have reached Erwar?

  His informant might be lying. He smelled of desperation and he did like his power.

  Groat zoomed in on the Human’s face. Sweat beaded his upper lip. Groat could practically smell the male’s fear. But why fear? All non-sentients dreamed of being equal.

  But the humans he’d netted weren’t like the one in front of him. The new breed had been changed to be stronger. Faster. Better. An improvement, yes. Yet it had been achieved through technology.

  Technology couldn’t be trusted.

  It was too easily hacked and turned against its owners. Billions of Scraptors had paid that price.

  Entire sentient species had been exterminated since the Scraptors had registered. And who knew how many before that. Even the mythological Erwars had vanished because of it.

  Groat blinked. The Human’s mouth was moving.

  “—she even has an Amarook. I—”

  “Repeat that.”

  The male’s eyes widened and he stepped back. “She has an Amarook. It can’t be real because it speaks, but it definitely looks like one. I don’t know where she found it. Maybe the Decrepi are experimenting with—”

  “Not an Amarook.” Groat punched the table. This dent went deeper than the others. The Decrepi wouldn’t dare. He’d snap their stick-like necks and bust their bony wings into splinters. The Skaperian had done too much damage to the Scraptor ranks with those infernal beasts.

  It was why the featherheads had been stopped.

  The Human shrunk on the screen. “It definitely looked like an Amarook.”

  “Bring them to me. The usual spot and time.” Groat killed the connection and shoved out of his chair. The seat glided over the marble floor and slammed into the wall. If the female is from Earth… If there really is an Amarook…

  If. If. If. He needed information, not questions. “Daget!”

  The massive metal door to Groat’s office creaked open and his second-in-command stopped on the threshold. “Yes, Superior?”

  “I need to see that explosion of the Human ship.” He would look for a life pod or anything else that would indicate something survived.

  “Yes, Superior.” Daget respectfully clasped his claws behind his back. He tugged an electronic tablet out of his pocket and tapped on the flat screen. “I shall make it available after you read the patrol reports.”

  After? Groat stiffened and his claws clacked together. His second should know better than to ignore a direct order. His second did know better. Groat yanked the tablet from his underling’s hand. “What did they find?”

  “Two Earth-based crafts headed for Erwar.”

  Groat skimmed the contacts. Zeta quadrant six hours ago. Turay quadrant four hours. Leven quadrant only two hours ago. Sour sweat fogged his helmet. He scrolled down, faster and faster, looking for images. “Where are the visuals?”

  “There are none. All we’ve been able to find is a hot Helium trail.” Daget stopped the screen and opened a file.

  Scrum! The trail was huge! Nearly as big as a Scraptor battle cruiser. And without a visual, he wouldn’t know the armament’s capabilities. “The engines are rudimentary.”

  “They could be inefficient, wasting so much energy they appeared larger.”

  “Negative. They’re advance Helium-3 fusion reactors. Maybe four generations behind ours.”

  “And we don’t even know if they’re the advanced ships or the sacrificial ones.” Groat would send the expendable ones first to test the waters. B
ut he’d blown up his chance to see if Humans had done the same thing. “Order two kerlium-class ships to the debris field. Scoop it up and analyze the parts, then get Mopus on the com.”

  “Yes, Superior.” Daget’s mandibles ground together and he remained in the room.

  Obviously, the story remained incomplete. “Say your piece.”

  “What are your orders regarding the new diggers?”

  Groat cracked his knuckles. “Give them an incentive to escape, then bring me their corpses.”

  Chapter 17

  Nell slowed upon reaching the walkway. The pack of supplies shifted on her back, and her fingers dug into the first aid kit tucked under her arm.

  Daylight streamed through the exposed dome several blocks behind her but the three-story row homes nearby cast long shadows over the rest of the neighborhood. Dim street lamps illuminated the yellow grass and drying bushes. Decaying leaves edged immaculate marble facades glowing in the spray of spotlights.

  Zahar rushed down the clean walk, jumping over a fuzzy Padgow cleaning crimson dots off the white stone. Her brother sprawled on the stoop, holding a pale child in his muscular arms.

  Blood filled the seams of the young boy’s lips, but his leg caught Nell’s attention.

  “It’s broken.” She didn’t know if she could deal with broken. She’d expected sniffles, runny nose and a fever when she’d volunteered to help the boy.

  “Obviously.” Elvis trotted beside her.

  The jagged edges of white bone stuck out of the boy’s pale shin and his foot flopped nearly backward on the step.

  “What if he’s severed an artery?” Or worse? How was she supposed to fix this? She wasn’t a doctor. She never even played one on TV.

  That’s why you have me, Dear. Mom’s voice soothed inside Nell’s head. And he would have bled much, much more if he’d severed an artery. In fact, given that it has taken us two minutes to arrive, he would probably already have died.

  Well, that’s something to be thankful for. Nell’s fingers relaxed on the first aid kit.

  Elvis fumbled in his saddle bags for the diagnostic unit. “This has complete first aid and emergency protocols for Humans and Amarooks. It will tell you everything you need to know.”