Carnevale and Subterfuge (21 page)

Anger overcame her. A hot rush of emotion welled up inside of her and became physical. She hit the machine, letting out a shriek of rage.

Hands wrapped around her wrists and drew her back. She fought and kicked, screamed like a banshee at not being able to feed her tired body properly. Pain pierced her neck. Her limbs became heavy, movement sluggish. Her eyelids fluttered. She tried to struggle against her captors but nothing happened. Her hands and feet didn’t respond. Her legs and arms felt like lead.

As the darkness of sleep took hold, she tried one last time, ordering her nanotechnology to respond. Nothing. She felt the shackles close around her wrists and the coldness of a slab through her bio suit.

“When she wakes up, I want to talk to her.”

Morrigan knew that voice but couldn’t identify it. Her thoughts moved as if mired in molasses. She tried once more to move, but nothing happened. As the last of her thoughts floated away, she prayed that she’d get another shot at the ambassador.

Chapter Fifteen

Time floated by on slow wings. When Morrigan next awoke she was no longer on a cold metal slab. She sat in a hard chair. Dark walls met her blurry gaze. She tried to lift her hands to rub her eyes and clear her vision but found her limbs wouldn’t move. Her body felt too heavy. An attempt to move her head only showed her more dark walls. Dim light bathed the space from overhead. Nothing else took up room with her. Unease crept up her spine. Fear tightened her throat. Her heart beat out a staccato rhythm against her rib cage.

Not since training camp had she been captured. Morrigan had vowed on that day never again to be so helpless. Not until years later, when she returned from her mission to find her base dismantled and her fellow soldiers gone, had that feeling returned.

The whoosh of air drew her attention. She turned her toward the sound. What greeted her pushed away the fear. The emotion was replaced with rage. She tried to lunge toward the man, lash out, strike him. Much to her fury, her body still refused to move.

“I’m sure you know who I am,” said the ambassador, “as I know who you are, so no need for the formalities. I’ve taken the liberty to study your files. We’ve also downloaded your memories from your core processor. Lots of interesting reading. What struck me the most was that your memories have been altered.”

A small panel opened in the floor and a chair rose into view. The ambassador sat across from Morrigan, taking a relaxed pose with his ankle resting on his knee. He gazed at her, no emotion on his face.

The anger took a backseat to curiosity. Morrigan took a moment to digest what he’d just said. She did an internal scan to corroborate his statements. Her data port had been accessed while she’d slept and data had been downloaded, but his claim that her memories had been altered didn’t ring true. Although, something didn’t feel right—s
he
didn’t feel right.

“You wouldn’t know. The scientists who created your braincase and interfaced your mind with that of the core computer in your body have remote access through a backdoor program they installed in all the Chameleon Cyborgs. You wouldn’t know you were hacked until it was too late.”

The ambassador tilted his head to the side. His dark blue gaze bore into her making her uncomfortable. She’d heard whispers of secret things that the scientists had done, things like that, but she had dismissed them as myth. There hadn’t been enough evidence.

“You’re lying to save yourself.” Her voice came out husky, as if unused for some time. Morrigan swallowed a few times. She couldn’t help but wince at the pain that caused.

“Don’t take my word for it.” With a wave of his hand, the ambassador made a hologram appear in front of them. The schematics to Morrigan’s body rotated before her. Lines and small letters detailed the modifications that had been made along with the programs that were installed in various parts of her.

Morrigan read through it all, absorbing each and every scrap of information. This design was much more detailed than what she’d been shown when she’d first joined the program.

“I’m sure you’ll think we altered this information to suit our purposes. Look at the time stamp. As you know, that can’t be altered. Their programming is far too complex for the likes of anyone but the creator to modify.”

Morrigan’s eyes scrolled to the bottom of the page. A small shriek left her mouth as she read the small seal at the bottom. The signature of the document’s creator stood out in bright red pixels. The name was clear enough to read. Her heart sank. The world around her crashed down as crimson bathed her vision. She’d been lied to and used.

“I was never a part of this project,” the ambassador went on. “I never signed off on it. I’d argued against it in the highest courts due to this type of manipulation by the secret sectors of government who felt they were above the law. They used this program you’d been recruited to for their own purposes. They used you and your fellow soldiers to carry out assassinations in the name of patriotism and government.

“I am on my way to Veritas 10 to request permission to investigate how far this actually goes. I feel you could be useful. I’ll give you all the information I have if you agree to form a team to investigate this matter for me. I have permission from a panel on this matter. You will answer only to us and no else.

“Once we have all our findings, we will go public. If I don’t do as I say, you have my permission to kill me. Do we have a deal? Better yet. I’ll let you think on it.”

“I will think about it,” Morrigan said. The ambassador’s gaze hadn’t wavered as he spoke. He was serious, that much was obvious, but Morrigan needed time to digest the new information she’d been given.

The ambassador rose. “These are your quarters. You will be under 24-hour guard. Your ability to move about the ship will be limited. The captain will want a full list of all your victims. At the moment, we’re recharging your fuel cell. Before we reach Veritas 10 I’m going to request that you go through an operation, whether you agree or not, to have a tracking beacon put inside of you. Also, many of your parts are outdated. I’ll be requesting that you be outfitted with new equipment and programming. Whether you choose to take part in my project is up to you, but as a soldier of the military it’s a piss-poor shame that they used cheap parts to turn you into a weapon. I’ll return in the morning. Good night Morrigan.”

With that, the ambassador left her to her thoughts. She wasn’t sure what to think. When the room began to move around her and a bed and a sink slid out of the wall, she jumped. The shock of being able to move around surprised her even more. A food processor, chair, and table lifted up from the floor. The room became basic quarters for a serving officer, not a prisoner. This courtesy being extended to her made her both suspicious and tired.

Morrigan just wanted to know what to believe. She knew one thing: if the ambassador was right, she wanted blood and justice.

* * *

“Thank you for coming to see me so early,” Drogan said. His voice was full of fatigue. “I know it’s four in the morning, but I felt I should speak to you before we reach Veritas 10. We’re only a few days out, and I wanted to deal with this before we got there. I’ve been briefed on your past and your abilities.

“A man of your unique skill set, I feel, would be an asset to my crew, and I’d like you to join us. Not as an officer, of course, but as a consultant. Your abilities and connections would be very useful to us, and allowing you to retire would—in my opinion—be a waste. I’ve spoken to the ambassador, who agrees with me. Your exemplary performance, your loyalty to him and concern for the crew, as well as your quick thinking, has allowed us to possibly gain an advantage on the shadow government that is trying to get more than a foothold in our way of life.

“We thank you for your service and, as your reward, a full pardon will be yours. Your record has been completely expunged, and your payment has been deposited in your account.” Drogan stared, his black gaze pensive.

Diego knew this was the time to negotiate. He’d been thinking of requesting a position on the crew in any capacity they would be willing to give him, just to be with Anarrae. This was the opening that he had only dreamed about.

“You’ll, of course, be receiving a commission as a consultant, not an actual crew member. Due to your past and all, we can’t extend that to you.”

Diego nodded. “Understood. First, I’d like to keep the suite I currently have.”

“Done.”

“I’d like secure off-network access for my AI. We will in no way endanger the crew, but some of our sources wouldn’t take too kindly to receiving a com with a starship call sig in it. They like their anonymity.”

“Understood and done.”

Diego raised an eyebrow. Before he could ask, Drogan filled him in. “My Chief of Security knows that I’m asking you and understands that if you should accept there will a few things she has to accept. She doesn’t like it, but will live with it if it means a new way to keep the ship and her crew safe.”

“All right. My AI has been pestering me for ages about becoming autonomous. She wants a top of the line body, all the bells and whistles.”

“We can arrange that. We’ll be staying over at Veritas 10 for quite some time before our next mission. We can start the process there. Anything else?”

“I’ll need a small spacecraft of my own. On occasion, if we’re in a certain galaxy or vector, I’ll need to pay my respect to certain people. This doesn’t just ensure my safety, but yours as well.”

“Done. We have something you can use. I’ll let you take a look at it to see if it needs modifications. Anything else?”

Diego could see that Drogan was reaching his limit with the requests. “Should I think of anything else, I’ll let you know. Once we get to Veritas, though, I have to return home to see my mother. She’s been ill. Roberto and I must pay our respects, or the old bat will haunt me into the afterlife.”

Drogan nodded. “Understood, but know this: my patience is limited. You have two requests left.”

“Thank you, Captain. It will be a pleasure working with you.” Diego rose. “Good morning. I’m going to go to sleep now.”

“We’ll speak later.”

Diego left Drogan’s office with a grin on his face. Stepping onto the lift, he hit the button for his floor. The doors were sliding shut when a hand stopped their progress. Tigress slipped in next to him.

“Don’t be so smug, con artist. If you slip up and get one of my crew injured, I’ll throw you in the brig and dismember you myself. Clear?”

“Crystal. Although, do you normally threaten members of the crew who helped save your ass?”

The elevator came to stop. Before Tigress could respond, Diego was out the doors. He rushed down the hall. As soon as he punched in the security code and slipped into his suite, he began to laugh.

“Careful moron, you keep pulling her tail, she’s liable to slice your arm off,” his AI said.

“Then I’ll just have to get it fixed. Time to take you off and let you rest. I have my appearance to change before Ana wakes up.”

“Whatever,” the AI said.

The dull buzz in the back of Diego’s head faded to nothing. He removed his wrist com. After he walked into the bedroom area, he put the computer on a dresser and headed toward the bed. For a moment he gazed at Ana, taking her all in. In sleep, her features were relaxed.

“Beautiful,” he said. Leaning over, he placed a kiss on her cheek before heading into the bathroom.

The sense of conflict, the uneasiness, and the pressure of living two lives had slipped away. Diego felt calm. It was more than just his part in the charade being over. New possibilities were now open to him. A new life now lay before him. Excitement burned through his body. He wanted to start anew, to begin his life with Ana honestly, with no more masks.

“Lights.” He stepped into the vanity area flooded with a pale golden glow. It wasn’t bright enough to blind, just enough to see. “A bit brighter.”

He moved deeper into the bathroom and stopped before the vanity. Staring at his reflection, he studied the planes of his current face. He could look at his reflection a thousand times and still not feel comfortable with another person’s face.

He considered changing his appearance back to the way he was. Now that he was pardoned, his record scrubbed clean, he could be himself again. No more masks. He reached up and stroked his stubble-coated jaw. If he walked out of there looking like himself Ana might become frightened and think someone had broken in. Besides, she deserved to see the mask fade away.

Stepping away from the mirror, Diego stripped off his shirt, undid the belt of his pants, and pulled off his boots before padding back to the bed. He climbed onto the mattress and gazed at her sleeping form. His heart contracted. For a moment he didn’t want to wake her. He wanted to curl up beside her and hold her. But he was impatient. He straddled her body. Starting from her hand, he kissed his way up her arm until he got to her bare shoulder. There, he took a nip at the crook before moving up her neck, pausing to flick her pulse point.

Ana’s breathing increased. She arched her back and moaned. “Diego.”

He traced the delicate shell of her ear with just the tip of his tongue, reveling in her soft groan. The rustle of the sheets filled the air, mingling with the gentle drone of the air-recycling unit above. The brush of her silky skin caressed his shoulder and the side of his throat as she hooked her arms around his neck.

Her fingers dug into his hair, taking a handful and pulling hard. He stopped what he was doing. The seconds ticked by as the silence between them stretched out. Diego’s heart thudded a constant rhythm against his rib cage. Tendrils of need wound their way along his spine to start pinpricks of heat at the base of his back and between his legs. His balls drew closer to his body, tightening. His cock pressed against his pants, demanding release. The need to bury himself deep inside his woman increased with each moment.

Slowing his breathing, Diego held himself above her, arms shaking with effort. His fingers dug into the comforter. He ached to ask her permission to continue. This felt just like the time he gave her control on Il Doge when they first met. Only this time he wasn’t tied to anything. His cock twitched in his pants. Arousal flared hot in the pit of his stomach as he remembered that sweet torture of being hers to do with as she wanted.