Syn-En: Registration (19 page)

“Sure you are.” Pet rolled his eyes. “I’ll admit you were somewhat convincing, but that armor.” He flicked her helmet. “It can’t protect anything. You’re an escapee from the mines and this is a hoax.”

“I am from Earth. Born and bred, you troglodyte.” She shoved her helmet into his gut. “Where do you think I got the medicine and everything else?”

“All the masters here have advanced medicine. They just don’t share. Not without payment.” Pet folded his arm across his chest. His biceps twitched in irritation. “What did you steal from the embassy?”

“I didn’t steal anything. Everything I have is standard Fleet issue.”

“Sure it is.” Pet’s eyes narrowed. “So where are the rest of your crew? Why are you the only one here?”

Elvis flashed pictures of himself dismembering Pet inside her head.

She patted the Amarook. If Pet so much as touched her, she’d unleash the fur and feather frenzy. “How do you explain Elvis?”

Pet’s brow furrowed. “I can’t. I couldn’t even use the mainframe to figure out where you received your stolen equipment.”

“Ha! You admit to sabotaging the mainframe.” Standing on tiptoe, Nell stuck her face into Pet’s.

Elvis pressed against her leg, muscles coiled tight.

“I wasn’t about to let you call in the Scraptors and enslave us all. We were born free, and we’ll die that way.”

The cork shot out of her bottled rage. “Some freedom. You demand sexual favors in exchange for the basics of life.”

Pet reared back. “What are you talking about?”

Like he didn’t know. He was just like all the groping assholes that peered down her blouse while talking down to her. “I’m talking about how you withhold medicine from Zahar’s brother because she won’t sleep with you.”

“I’ve always given her everything I could steal or buy. Everything. I protect her.” Pet thumped his chest. “Especially from people like you who spread rumors of registration. The last time one went around, hundreds of people killed themselves when it didn’t happen. I won’t lose Zahar.”

He sounded so sincere. So righteous. Nell’s shoulders slumped. Maybe Pet’s order to kill her had clouded her perception. Maybe he was afraid to hope and dream. And hated her because of his own fear. “I’m not the enemy. I really am here from Earth.”

Pet shook his head. His dark hair slapped his cheeks. “No. Earth was destroyed. This is it for Humans. We’re the last free people in the universe, and it’s my duty to protect them.”

Elvis whipped his head toward Anwar. “Where are you going?”

Raising his hands, Anwar backed up a step. “You don’t need me to take you to the surface anymore.”

“Have you lost your mind?” Pet zeroed in on Anwar. A tick beat in his left eyelid. “There’s a storm overhead. You know it won’t blow itself out until morning.”

Whether fear ruled Pet or not, she had a job to do. Her husband needed her to see it through, and she wasn’t about to let these two get into a pissing contest. Nell placed herself between the two men. “We were going to use the storm as cover from the patrols. Our helmets and suits will protect us from the dust.”

Pet’s eyes narrowed. “And what will stop the winds from picking you both up and dumping you half a world away?”

Nell glanced at Elvis then Anwar. Someone was exaggerating. But who? “How fast are the winds?”

“They’ve brought down shuttles and some of the less advanced ships.”

“Oh.” She pinned Anwar with a glare. Why hadn’t he mentioned that little tidbit of information? 

Pet raked his hand through his hair until it stood on end. “And why were you going down these tunnels, anyway? They lead to the mines and embassies, not an exit to the surface.”

“He was delivering you to me.” A deep voice rumbled past her.

Nell’s stomach cramped.
Please, don’t be a Scraptor. Please, don’t be a Scraptor.
Turning, she faced the speaker.

Good God, it was a Scraptor.

Chapter 20

Bei leaned against the side of the elevator cage as it rose toward the pleasure rooms. The air stunk of sweat, dirt and Scraptor.

Standing in the front corner near the controls, the bug-ugly alien rested the muzzle of his energy rifle on his segmented arm. He hadn’t taken his bubble eyes off Bei since the Deutche clan’s shift ended twelve minutes ago.

Obviously, the enemy planned to watch him closely during this Rest and Relaxation hour. Bei rolled his shoulders like a handful of the dozen men around him had done earlier.

Ruth, the only female in the elevator, flattened her hands against the chain link. Metal rattled as she pulled away then leaned into the gate. “I promise I won’t get sick to my stomach this time.”

“I know you won’t.” Job, the leader of the clan, smoothed his daughter’s dusty braids.

She ducked under his touch and stared up at Bei who stood next to her. “I ate too much candy last time. It was so good.” She drawled out the words and rubbed her flat stomach with one hand. “You have to try the chocolate ones. They’re crunchy.”

“I will.” Bei winked at her. She was a good kid. The Deutche clan didn’t raise any other kind.

She grinned. “I’ll show you all my favorites. I know you’ll like them.”

Job shook his head. “After your shower, little one. Your mother wants you clean before you change clothes.”

Ruth wrinkled her nose. “Yes, Father.”

Someone nudged Bei. He turned and saw the sandy-haired man behind him. Job had called him Dietrich. Unlike his brother Abraham, Dietrich didn’t inform on his fellow clan members.

“Best find a woman first, then explore the sweets table. Ruth will have you there all hour tasting the varieties.” Dietrich tugged on the girl’s braid. “Right, squirt?”

Brow furrowed, Ruth pushed his hand away. “You could visit my sister, Velma. She gets to live in the pleasure rooms all the time now.”

Eyes narrowed, Dietrich stiffened. His nostrils flared and he pinned Job with a glare.

Bei nodded once, acknowledging the unspoken claim. If Velma was his mate, why was she in the pleasure rooms? Were the women taken and forced?

Ruth kept talking, unaware of her words’ effect. “You could get Velma pregnant. Then she’d return to the clan, and you’d be part of us by blood.”

The elevator rumbled to a stop.

Throwing open the gate, Job stepped in front of Bei, blocking his exit. “Shower first, Ruth, then chocolate.”

“Yes, Father.” She skipped out and headed right for the cluster of children in the corner near the desserts. Her mother intercepted and steered her toward a door with a female figure on it. A mist seeped over the threshold.

Dietrich slipped around Job and hustled across the cavern, where four women and two men lounged on benches carved from solid rock. The elevator quickly emptied. Most of the men headed for the male showers. One veered right and grabbed a woman from their clan and tugged her toward a small room on the left.

Bei stared at the leader’s back. “Aren’t we going to join them?”

“I’ll explain the rules since you’re from…” Job eyed the Scraptor who still hadn’t taken his attention from Bei. “From another clan.”

“Velma belongs to Dietrich. I’ll keep my hands off her.” Bei pushed off the side, crowding the leader toward the exit.

Job strolled into the large cavern. He pointed to the two dark-haired women near a buffet table. “Velma and Marium are spoken for. The others are from another clan. If they’re willing, you can jazz with them. If not, enjoy the room’s abundance with the others.”

The Scraptor left the elevator and stood at attention with his back to the open lift, caressing his weapon.

Dietrich and another clan member pointed back at Bei.

He acknowledged them, then scanned the room. Benches and tables hewn from the rock filled the space. Paint peeled from the green doors embedded in the walls. Where was Keyes? Had they hidden her from him? He needed his communications officer reactivated.

A woman took two children by the hand and led them away from the dessert table, to an area with tiny shovels, picks, and a wheel-less ore cart.

Bei opened a link with ET’s mainframe and checked her location. Keyes hadn’t been reassigned. She was supposed to be here. Somewhere. He severed the connection, before the antivirals picked up his scent. “If the women already have mates, then why are they here?”

Job sighed. “Food.” He gestured to the groaning buffet tables. “And to grow our numbers. Since Earth was destroyed, the Scraptors allow us more visits in the hopes that we’ll produce more diggers. All the women must produce two offspring before being freed to work the mines. The first goes to the male’s line; the second to the female’s.”

A breeding establishment, pure and simple, with an insidious benefit—the clan never knew where all their relatives were. Bei jerked his chin toward the two men among the women. They were not of the Deutche clan. “And the men?”

“In some clans, men outnumber women. They must send males to fulfill the breeding quota. If our women lay with them, we keep the child.” Job headed toward the showers. “If you need release, pick someone from outside. We don’t allow our clans people to jazz our own members while they’re working up here, only others.”

Bei nodded. The clan’s attitude toward sex closely resembled the Syn-Ens. Ironically, each had arisen from a system beyond their control.

“Why not impregnate your women? It would grow your numbers faster?” Given them more diggers to earn food. But then they’d face the risks of inbreeding. It was trade-off.

“It causes nothing but strife once the clan is reunited.” Pausing near the door, Job caught a roll his wife tossed him. “And no one can marry until their time in the pleasure rooms has been served. Of course, husbands and wives can enjoy the soft beds of the rooms, but for most it is a chance to relax in comfort and eat well. We can also catch up on news of other clans, although all our actions are monitored.”

The leader pointed to the half-spheres hanging from the arched ceiling.

Bei enhanced his optics. Cameras. Did the side rooms have surveillance as well? He’d find out. Once he found his communications officer. A camera could have a glitch. Not that he planned to speak out loud. “Good to know. Any other
rules
I should know about?”

“The Scraptors don’t usually stay up here with us.” Job pushed open the door to the men’s showers. Steam boiled out, creating a moist fog around them. “And the women like it if you’re clean before you go to them.” He frowned at Bei. “Although you don’t seem to be that dirty.”

“Potable water isn’t readily available in all the places I’ve been.” Bei flicked his wrist. Dust flew in all directions, leaving his synthetic skin clean. “So we learned to adapt.”

Or rather adjusted their programming accordingly.

“Lucky you.” Job waded into the fog. “There are times I think the grit is so ground in, I’ll never wash it out.”

Just as Bei crossed the threshold, a door opened.

Keyes stepped out. Her homespun blouse and trousers clung to her curves. Plucking a strand of dark, curly hair from her sleeve, she dropped it onto the ground.

A man exited the room behind her. Rubbing his shoulder, he smiled. “I can’t tell you how great that was. I don’t think I’ve ever experienced anything like it.”

Bei closed his eyes. Dammit, he thought he’d programmed her to stay celibate. He didn’t need her killing one of the civilians because she’d inadvertently broke the terms of her union with Rome. There weren’t that many people to begin with. He moved toward her. Fabric cut across his throat. His skin hardened from the assault.

“Don’t go directly to her.” Job reeled him into the steam room. Shower heads sputtered hot water onto the lichen-encrusted rock. A mound of dirty clothes was piled atop a blanket spread out by the door. On a sweaty bench sat sets of neatly folded clean clothes.

“I wasn’t planning to.” Bei eased the door closed behind him then quickly stripped off his garments. A quick scan showed the room devoid of surveillance equipment. “I’ve done this before.”

“You’ve escaped from alien guards on an alien planet?” After hurling his pants onto the pile, Job stepped under the spray and scrubbed his skin.

“Yes.” Nell had been by Bei’s side on Terra Dos, freeing him from the prison of his mind. And soon she’d be at his side on Erwar.

Job held his hand under a dispenser. A dollop of foam soap filled his palm. “Which aliens?”

“The Skaperians.” Bei stood under the water, let it slide over his skin. 

White suds frothed across Job’s scalp. “Humans are really going to do it, aren’t they?”

“Yes, they are.” Bei stepped out of the spray and ignored the towel. His skin had absorbed the moisture before he picked up his shirt. Now, he needed to take steps to ensure their registration happened according to his plan.

“One more thing.” Job squinted at him. “My wife will need to introduce you to her. Men don’t just go up to women they don’t know.”

“Will do.” Just what century had the Deutche clan left Earth? Nell certainly didn’t abide by these odd customs. Bei tied his laces then stuffed them into the sides of his boots. Without a backward glance, he left the showers.

Keyes leaned against the wall near the buffet tables, a plate of food in her hand.

Skinning the cooked meat off a rib bone, Job’s wife nodded. “Yes, I understand. We were stationed there about six years ago. There was a cave-in then, too. I’m sorry your clan lost so many people.”

Bei crossed the room. His skin crawled. The Scraptor was watching. Let him. Bei didn’t acknowledge the guard but headed for the food, just like the others had done before him.

“Ahh, Beijing.” Job’s wife handed him an empty plate. Water dripped from her braided coronet and darkened her blue blouse. “Kay just returned from Albion-Five, too. Did you meet her on the shuttle?”

The Scraptor shifted closer. His armored finger settled on the trigger.

“No.” Bei accepted the plate and focused on the meat. Golden brown skin curled across haunches of meat surrounded by a halo of blood. Fresh fruits in a rainbow of colors overflowed the bowls. Ribbons of pasta, scoops of rice and pyramids of bread mounded trays. Ugh, why didn’t they have any nutritious processed food? “Did I hear something about a collapse?”