Syn-En: Registration (20 page)

Keyes/Kay nodded. “My whole clan was
wiped
out.”

“Mine as well.” Was it his imagination, or had she emphasized wiped? Bei speared a slab and dragged it onto his plate. He wanted to ping her cerebral interface, but was afraid she’d react out upon discovering another person in her head.

Job’s wife set her hand on Bei’s shoulder. “Why don’t you two go somewhere private and talk about your mutual loss?”

Keyes slid her full plate on the table. “I think that would be nice.”

Bei gripped the plate, felt the metal bend under his fingers. What the hell? He’d programmed her not to accept men into her bed.

She held out her free hand to Bei. “Shall we?”

The Scraptor clomped over. His claws knocked Keyes’s hand aside. “The digger is prohibited from female company during the first visit to the pleasure rooms.”

Job’s wife pressed a hand to her chest and stumbled back. “Oh, my!”

Bei steadied her with a free hand. Her pulse beat wildly under his fingers; fear soured on her skin. “Are you well?”

She swallowed hard and nodded. “They haven’t enforced that rule in years.”

Word must have spread. But did rumors paint him as a troublemaker or something more?

“The digger is prohibited from female company during the first visit to the pleasure rooms.” The Scraptor jabbed Bei in the ribs with the barrel of his weapon.

Bei dropped his plate and raised his hands. Damn. So much for plan A. Thankfully, he had a back-up. “I know the rules.”

Keyes’s expression tightened before smoothing out. “Perhaps we can sit over there and talk?”

Bei felt a tug on his nape. He opened his cerebral interface and caught the softly spoken question in the guard’s mic.
Intercept the order and give him permission for us to sit together.

Aye, Admiral. Unable to comply. I’m being blocked from entering the mainframe.

By whom?

Unknown. Admiral, I’ve been targeted by the antiviral software.

Bei spied the salivating Dobermans closing in on his access point.
Fall back, cerebral interface communications only.

The Scraptor’s bug eyes twitched. “You sit over there.” The guard’s raised claw pointed to an empty bench under the camera. Turning to Keyes, he indicated another seat across the room. “You over there. If you come closer than five lengths, I will shoot the digger.”

Guess tossing that boulder had made an impression. Or… Bei checked the inhabitants. Or the spy, Abraham, had said something that had the guards on high alert. Bei checked his internal clock. Thirty-five minutes. He’d have to reactivate his communications officer through her interface.

“Move,” the Scraptor rumbled.

Bei raised his hands. “I’m moving.”

Keyes sauntered over to her appointed bench. She studied the ground as she walked.

Bei collapsed onto the bench and opened a channel.
Keyes
.

His communications officer raised her head and opened her mouth.

A scream swirled around the cavern.

Chapter 21

Nell swallowed the lump in her throat. Her and her big mouth. No doubt every word traveled for miles in the network of tunnels and led them straight to her. She looked around for Elvis.

Standing near her leg, the Amarook was camouflaged but hadn’t left her.

Dressed in bulky red armor, a hulk of a humanoid blocked her exit. “So this is a Human from Earth?”

Six more Scraptors surrounded him. All of them had rifles pointed at her.

Elvis’s worry flooded her head. He flashed images of himself fighting, but they both knew it was hopeless. Scraptor armor had been designed with Amarooks in mind. Besides, there were just too many for him to fight.

And God knew where her stun-gun was, or if it would even work on the Scorpion-like aliens. She sent him an image of the shuttle. With him safe, he could at least reach the ship and send the warning message.

Pet stood beside her. “She’s not from Earth. She’s an escapee from the Munican embassy.”

“And I’m sure you have the forged papers to prove it, eh, Pet?” Scorpio opened his mandibles, flashing sharp teeth. “We know all about you, thanks to this one.” Striding forward, he flicked a claw toward Anwar.

Fists at the ready, Pet stepped toward the traitor. “You bastard!”

Anwar raised his chin and stood his ground. “I had to help my brother. I had to get him medicine.”

“That’s right. Your medicine.” Scorpio raised his hands. Instead of handing over something, the Scraptor grasped Anwar’s head and twisted it.

The traitor’s spine popped. He collapsed, his head facing the opposite direction from his feet.

Now might be a good time to run. Nell willed her body to move, but her feet seemed to have melted into the rock. Paper crinkled in her grasp. The map lead to the embassy, the Ck’son, the Shish, the Padgows and Humans. The Scraptors mustn’t find it. She shuffled it across her fingers, held it out behind her.
Eat it, Elvis. Don’t let them find it.

Scorpio stared at her. His bubble eyes glistened in the light. “As for you…”

Elvis tugged on her shirt.

Too late. She was going to die. She ordered the Amarook to run, finish what she couldn’t.

“Show them your brand.” Pet’s voice spiked two octaves. He grasped her wrist and shoved up her sleeve. “Show them whose property you are.”

“She isn’t anyone’s property and there won’t be enough left of her to be useful when I’m done with her.” Scorpio laughed, a raspy sound reeking of evil thoughts and ill will.

The devil probably sounded just like that when bad people arrived in Hell. Nell swayed. Her dinner threatened to revisit her mouth. How many people threw up on Satan when they heard that laugh?

“You mean…” Pet shook his head. “No. No. It can’t be.”

“Yes. She’s from Earth.” Scorpio stroked her cheek.

His skin was hard and cold. Like his heart. Like his species. Warmth flowed through Nell’s veins. She sensed Elvis moving away, sprinting down the tunnels. He ran for help, ran to warn the Syn-En about the threat and Bei’s captivity. The Scraptor might kill her, but she would win in the end.

And Scorpio here wouldn’t have the satisfaction of seeing her crumble and beg.

She jerked away from the Scraptor. “Don’t touch me.”

Scorpio’s mandibles clacked together. “Such a waste of spirit.”

Pet’s legs buckled. He buried his face in his hands. “No. No.”

“She’s also your death sentence.” Scorpio walked behind Nell. “We were going to claim you when we took over the Skaperian embassy in fifteen axis spins. Household staff is very hard to find. But… You know about Earth, and if word got around that one of the Founding Five interfered with registration, well… we could be tied up for years in court debating legalities. In this economic downturn, we must protect the bottom line. Bonuses must be paid.”

Profit. This all came down to profit. Nell tugged on her connection with Elvis.
Warn the others! Then hide.
She faced the scumbag Scraptor. “Humans will die before they let you take them again.”

Scorpio shrugged. “Then we will claim your planet. There is much profit to be had from Earth.”

She swung for his bug eye.

“Fire!”

Pain rocketed through her body, shaking her entire frame and changing her bones to kindling. Oh, God! She was going to die. Clamping her lips together, she felt her body fold. She may die, but she wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of screaming or begging. Blackness crowded her vision.

“Kepow, finish up here. The rest of you come with me.” All but one Scraptor headed down the tunnels, back the way they’d come.

The ground rose up to meet her just as the remaining one tossed gasoline on the fire raging inside her. She tasted Elvis’s anger and fear, sent him images of her petting him, feeding him animal heads. Her parting gift to an amazing friend plus a last request.
Tell Bei I lo——

Pain severed her connection.

“It’s time to hunt an Amarook and skin it alive!” Scorpio’s shout bounced off the walls.

Be safe, Elvis. Please be safe.

Her thoughts faded as the fire consumed her.

Chapter 22

Bei stiffened on the bench in the center of the pleasure rooms. Around him, the Deutche clan fell silent. All attention focused on Ruth as her scream died.

Everyone but the Scraptor. The guard raised his energy rifle and aimed at Bei’s heart.

Bei’s fingers bit into the cold rock bench. Just what had caused the guards to be on edge? He’d love to know, but that damn anti-virus prowled cyberspace, looking for his signature. While he could only bounce his signal off the mainframe, his communications officer could do so much more.

He needed Keyes online. Unfortunately, he’d have to wait until the guard relaxed. He wouldn’t want to get accidentally shot. At least, not yet. Bei paused his breathing subroutines.

“Zowie!” Standing by the dessert table, Ruth flashed the whites of her eyes before she squeezed them shut. “This is so good!”

Men and women chuckled. Conversation burbled around him. Two boys dropped their buckets of rocks and zoomed to the table. Ruth dropped a candy in their outstretched hands. They popped it into their mouths and chewed vigorously, cheeks bulging.

In a swirl of steam, Job stepped out of the showers. His gray tunic and trousers molded to his wet skin. The leader surveyed the crowd before his attention fell on the guard and Bei. “Ruth! Why are you carrying on?”

The little girl spun at her father’s words. Raising her palm, she flashed a mound of brown candy. “It’s a new kind of chocolate!”

Laughter hummed inside Bei’s head. Familiar laughter.
Keyes?

Across the room, his communications officer batted her curls behind her shoulder.
Here I thought Nell Stafford’s addiction to chocolate was unique.

Keyes remembered. Bei leaned forward on the bench.
When did your memories return?

About an hour after I woke up.
She accepted a plate of food from a thin man.
I’ve been covering your ham-handed fumbling in ET’s programming ever since. How could they have promoted you to Admiral when your cyber-stealth skills are cadet level?

Bei grinned. He could always count on Keyes to razz him, especially when they communicated through the Wireless Array.
It’s good to have you back.

His plan could begin without delay.

I can’t believe ET thought a little code would undo a lifetime of memories. They’re stupider than they look.
Tilting her head, she shifted her attention to the guard.
And that’s saying something. External body armor, even grafted onto their skin, is last century upgrades on Earth.

They have a phobia of technology. But they’re not that stupid.

The Scraptor’s nictitating membrane slid over half his bug eyes, turning them milky white. Lowering his barrel, the guard scuttled backward until he stood next to the elevator.

Bei pushed off the bench.
I should probably eat while we talk.

The Scraptor’s eyes cleared, but he didn’t raise his weapon.

I would look at other people, but all the men seem to think that is an invitation into my bed.
Keyes gathered her long locks and draped the curls over her shoulder.

Smoothing his tunic over his flat stomach, Alfred sidled closer. 

Reaching the buffet table, Bei studied the fresh fruit and vegetables. He caressed the rough skin of an orange, measured the oil levels with his fingers. Returning to eating processed food couldn’t happen soon enough.
You should stop playing with your hair.

I’m not playing with my hair. It’s knotted from that delousing soap.
She shook a few strands from her fingers.

I may know that and you may know that, but to humans it is flirting.
Bei flipped back the tip of his index finger and slid the small blade under the orange’s rind, peeling it away from the fruit. Oils misted the orange. He activated his synthetic skin and pulled them out of the air.

Maybe playing with real human hair is flirting, but—

Alfred dropped onto the bench next to Keyes.

Bei’s officer straightened before shifting to the right to make room.

Job bumped Bei’s elbow. “My wife told me you’re forbidden to speak privately with the new dame.”

“Yes.” Picking up a plate, he dropped the peeled orange onto it and handed both to the leader. Bei ducked his head and stuffed a piece of the rind into his mouth.

Furrows marred Job’s forehead and his nose wrinkled, but he accepted the plate and began loading up slabs of meat and cut fruit.

Bei swallowed his mouthful. “I need the oils to help flush the grit out of my systems.”

The fiber would help counter the effects of the food that he’d eaten.

“Ah, I see.” Job bit the orange, juices ran down his chin and dripped off. “It’s much better peeled, not as bitter.”

Bei blinked. They normally ate the rind? He tucked another bite into his cheek, not bothering to hide it this time.

No civilian paid him any attention. Bug-ugly wouldn’t take his bubble eyes off Bei.

“Are the guards normally so vigilant in the pleasure rooms?”  He would have expected the opposite. On Earth, humans tended to be well behaved so the privileges wouldn’t be revoked.

“Either that shill Abraham ratted on you, or word got around about your little potshot with the boulder yesterday.” Job polished off the orange and wiped his damp fingers on his shirt. “Then again, other clans are reporting that the Scraptors aren’t up to their normal bread and circuses.”

Bei checked his communication subroutine. Still didn’t translate. “Bread and circuses?”

“For show.” Job bit off the stem of a banana and spit it on the floor. “We can always tell when the high-hats have come to gander at the lowly humans that keep ‘em in the scratch. The guards always polish up and return to enforcing the rules and regulations.”