Deviation (5 page)

"You forget that the debate is not how God or nature intended women to look or be, but the basic need for survival. If we allow nature to take its course, the human race will be extinct in a hundred years."

Matthew Borden strode into the command deck of the Balor VII, too agitated to be pleased that his men had tracked down the Lothogy. Several terminal stations lined the circumference of the oblong deck, all of their sleek interfaces lit up in gold and blue. At each terminal controllers stood, maintaining the Borden Company flag ship's internal functions. None of them looked at him as he made his way to the center of the room.

Stopping beside Charles Baine, his executive vice president, Matt scowled at the holograms flitting through the center control pad. Six of the holographic ships zipping around were Fomorri fighter class; the Borden Company's pride. Slim, triangular shaped single-seaters, heavily armed and easily maneuverable, Fomorri vessels were the preferred ship for combat both in and out of atmosphere. The company owed most of its fortune to the revolutionary design.

Matt focused on the larger of the holograms as it made a quick flip to the left. The Lothogy's angular, birdlike shape drifted so close to the ocean's surface that the hologram echoed little lapping waves just beneath it. The Fomorri closed in, making a V-pattern trailing the Lothogy.

"They can't hope to outrun us," Charles said, crossing his arms. "The Lothogy is too heavy in atmosphere."

"They can hope, they just can't succeed." Matt frowned at the images before him. He knew what he had to do, he just didn't want to do it.

When he got his hands on his brother, Matt was going to strangle the Loyalist bastard until his eyes bulged and his face turned purple. Human experimentation was bad enough, but dredging up a decades old virus - a virus that nearly obliterated humanity, no less - was nothing short of insanity. And to make matters worse, David had somehow allowed his illegal research to leak into the most disastrous of places.

Mesa Prosser was as cunning as her husband.

According to the computer records, Mesa had managed to upload his brother's Mavirus data for exactly twenty-seven point two seconds before the fail-safes had kicked in. Twenty-seven point two seconds was long enough to upload forty-three percent of the data on Outboard Jupiter's mainframe, and Matthew was not willing to risk that the information she had managed to copy consisted of the more innocuous points of his brother's work.

Matthew didn't doubt for a moment that the woman had managed to pass the information on before her death. He didn't know how, given that his Fomorri had shot her down somewhere in Jupiter, but he wasn't going to feel safe until every remnant of the woman was gone.

And that meant he had to destroy her husband and that damn ship before they stumbled onto the real reason he'd had Mesa killed.

"Orders, sir?" Charles asked.

Pressing his fist to his mouth, Matt glared at the Lothogy. God forgive him, what a waste.

"Fom One, walkabout. Fom Six, grab his tail," Matt said. He hesitated, knowing that his Fomorri could hear every word he said and would react immediately. By God, David was going to pay for this moment. "Fire at will, gentlemen."

All six ships responded, recognizing the flight tactic. Fom Six pushed in close to the tail end of the Lothogy, so close that the holograms looked mere inches apart. Foms Three and Four spun high to turn and fire at its right side, while Foms Two and Five flipped to fire at the left. Fom One, flying low and fast, zoomed past the Lothogy in order to turn and double back, coming at it head on.

Matt narrowed his eyes at the trap, trying to anticipate Hedric's next move.

The Lothogy made an abrupt maneuver, spewing something out the back that caught Fom Six before the ship could react. A small blue explosion flashed and the hologram of Fom Six disappeared. Tightening his fists, Matt fought to push the loss out of his mind and concentrated harder on the hologram of the Lothogy.

Holding back a stream of curse words, he watched as the Lothogy made a near vertical climb away from the trap, barely missing a collision with Fom Two. The five ships left zipped past each other, collecting again to continue the pursuit. And then the Lothogy dove, shooting at the surface of the ocean before submerging. The hologram was swallowed in the mass of churning waves, leaving a firm knot of defeat lodged somewhere in Matthew's chest.

"They ... they submerged, sir." Charles said, though his voice was baffled and held more than a little respect for the lost enemy.

Matthew scowled at the holograms as they fired into the sea, knowing that the Lothogy was already out of range. Underwater systems, by God, they'd managed to install underwater systems.

"Collect the debris from Fom Six," Matthew said. He looked to Charles. "Send a unit to shut down David's lab at Outboard Jupiter. I want everything erased. I want it so clean, it's like new."

Charles nodded, his broad forehead creased with mounting concern. His dark eyes glanced at the controllers surrounding them before he asked; "And the subjects?"

With a deep breath, Matt tried to battle through the real dilemma facing him. His business instincts told him he had to get rid of all evidence of David's illegal actions, to include the thirty-seven women now suffering from a disease that was supposed to be dead. His father wouldn't have hesitated.
Necessary sacrifices for the safety of the company and the family
, Jason Borden's voice nagged him from the recesses of his memory.

Matthew, however, would be damned if he became like his father. He'd do the family proud, he'd keep the business running, but not at the cost of his soul. There was a line, damnit. Mesa Prosser's name knifed across his conscious, but he tried to justify her death as a matter of private war.

His temples began to throb.

"Set a security detail for them. Four medics. Transfer them onto Balor II and have them set a course for Pluto." Matt felt his eye twitch as he gave the order. It wasn't much, but at least they could be hidden for a little while. And with the experiments his brother had been conducting, it was just possible that they would all die before anything could really come of it. "And Charles, make sure the subjects have everything they might need."

***

"It's not your fault, you know."

Reesa grunted in acknowledgement, lounging on the deck of the
Ho'ola Jane
and opening her bottle of Dr. Pepper. She knew she should drink water like Kate, but there was something satisfying in the bubbly-burn of soda that appealed to her. That and she'd spent the first half of her life restrained from the normal indulgences of a child per force of her mother. Reesa believed she deserved some amount of leeway after nineteen years of modeling competitions and photo shoots.

It was a sunny, warm day and there wasn't a sign of land on the horizon. Tufts of white clouds scattered across an azurite sky so deep it made Reesa's heart swell from the sight of it. Blue was her color, all shades of it. It was an all-encompassing color, a base, not flashy or obnoxious, but classy. It could be moody, tinting storm clouds or mysterious like the depths of a glacier, vibrant through the white of ice. It could even be dangerous, as on the silvery blue of a dorsal fin. Reesa smiled, content to remind herself of the basic reason she loved sailing.

Blue was everywhere, hugging her little boat in the watery landscape.

And then Kate spoke again, reminding her that she was not alone in her sanctuary.

"Some people just don't see the bridge between fiction and reality," Kate stretched out on the deck beside her, short legs crossing at the ankles. "I know I said I wouldn't talk about it, but I had to say at least that much."

"I know."

"You know it wasn't your fault, or you know I had to say something?"

Reesa smiled and said, "Both."

Kate laughed and rolled onto her stomach, letting the sun burnish the back of her legs. Reesa did the same, propping her head onto her arms so she could survey her friend. Kate really was a pretty little thing, though she didn't seem to know. If she'd been an inch or so taller the modeling companies would have scrambled over themselves to exploit her. Spry was a good word for her. She had a competence to her form - the result of several years as an instructor in Kenpo Karate - and a soft, open face.

The girl was a walking contradiction. Someone who wasn't paying attention would say she had dishwater hair, but Reesa had always described it as a maple color, not the leaves but the bark. There were pool cues that had the exact same tint to them. On the surface Kate looked every inch the happy home-wifey mother. When she smiled it was wide and happy, infectious even. Her eyes were sparkly hazel, leaning on the olive green side. But underneath all of that, Kate was a puzzle. Reesa could not understand why such a soft, charismatic, and joyful person had ever chosen the military life. And she hadn't been Air force or Navy either. For four years, Kate had been a supply sergeant in the Army.

Reesa had pictures of the woman in uniform and she still didn't believe it.

In fact, Kate was such an oddity that Reesa had based the character of Mesa off her. Physical appearance and all, though Kate hadn't noticed while reading the series. Reesa wasn't certain how she might react if she ever figured it out either. She really should have asked permission from Kate before it was published, but since Kate was her "alpha reader" and saw every rough draft as it passed her desk, Reesa had figured she was safe.

"Well, if you're not blaming yourself, why are we out here?" Kate asked, her voice muffled because her face was against the crook of her arm.

"You're out here because you're a stubborn brat with nothing better to do than worry over my mental health," Reesa grinned at the snort of laughter from her friend. "And I'm here because I feel safer away from land."

They fell into a restful silence. Reesa sighed and closed her eyes, allowing the familiar wet slap of water against the boat assuage her. But try as she might she could not get Tattoo's face out of her mind. There were such striking features and such a hard, clear command in her voice, and damnit all if Reesa didn't feel a sense of familiarity with the woman. It was maddening and weird and she couldn't shake it.

A name teased at the back of her mind. It took a moment of concentration for Reesa to catch it and when she did she wished she hadn't.

Rebecca.

Tattoo had looked like Rebecca from the books. A minor character at best, but because she crossed paths with Celeocia so often, Reesa had taken the time to write a full description. Elegant, smooth features, flawless skin; Reesa frowned, squeezing her eyes shut to capture the picture more firmly. Had there been a freckle just beside the left corner of her mouth? She couldn't remember if that had been part of the description or not. She would have to look it up when they made their way home.

Opening her eyes again, Reesa sat up. That was the path to insanity. There was no possible way Tattoo was Rebecca. Just like there was no way that Tattoo had a metal leg. It had been a figment of her imagination, a desperate attempt of her mind to make sense of the situation as it had happened.

Brushing hair away from her face, Reesa took a deep breath and glanced at where Kate had dozed off beside her.

Some people just don't see the bridge between fiction and reality.

Grimacing, she reached for her Dr. Pepper again. Some days, she thought with another frown, she was one of those people.

***

Alarms screamed to life faster than Hedric could silence them, several screens around his chair flashing red and yellow. The pilot's chair leaned from side to side on its gyrating point, following Myron's commands the instant the man gave them. Hedric stole a glance at Myron, whose face was twisted in concentration, his scarred upper lip curling into a scowl as he avoided an alarmingly large bit of marine life. Whatever the creature was - something whalish by the size - seemed just as startled to see them because it veered away. As much as a creature that size could "veer", but it did make the effort.

"Did we just submerge?" Keats yelled through the comms.

"Just sit tight," Hedric responded and glanced at Myron again. "They'll be waiting for us to come up."

"Then it's a good thing we're full up on oxygen," Myron directed the Lothogy further down, hurrying through a series of commands that finished the transformation from airborne ship to mariner.

At the last moment before contact with water Hedric had shut down the ion drives, encapsulating them in their onboard docks at the rear of the ship. He heard the smooth grind of motors as propellers took the place of the ion drives. There was a jolt and a sudden push as the propulsion went to work, and Hedric let go of the breath he'd been holding. The under water systems were still in the initial phases of testing. Myron had only used them once before, in a highly controlled area where if anything had gone wrong he could have bailed without getting hurt. Hedric was somewhat disconcerted that the pilot had made such a drastic move, but in light of the trap Borden had laid, it seemed the best option.

Another large sea creature flashed into life via the hologram system, this one with a distinct dorsal fin, and Myron turned the ship. The hologram disappeared a moment later but Hedric knew there would be more to come. The ocean was more dangerous than space these days, crowded with sea life - most of it large enough to take the ship down.

"I think it's safe to say that Mesa found something, Captain," Myron spoke but his attention stayed on the console. "Something that wasn't just MRD's or whatever."

"Agreed."

"Any idea what it might have been?"

"None at all."

"Brilliant. Let's get killed for knowledge we don't have, shall we?"

Hedric ignored the comment and began to check the systems. The inbound communications screen twitched to life, filling the cockpit with static just before his mother's face appeared. She looked horrible, and not just because of the disarray of hair and haphazard gown hanging from her shoulders. Her usually serene face was lit with anger and worry.