Cypher (The Dragon's Bidding Book 2) (29 page)

“Right now I’d take
some of Jumper’s cat food, as long as I could follow it up with some chocolate
cake. Then a long, hot shower and a soft bed for about ten hours.” Wolf kissed
her on the temple. “And you there when I wake up.”

“I like the sound of
that,” Cypher said.

“No ménage à trois.”
Fitz reached up and pulled Wolf’s spike.

“Wait—” was all Cypher
had time for before he was gone.

“You are all I need,”
Fitz told Wolf.

__________

The music and laughter
of the postponed Founder’s Day party drifted from the villa as Wolf slipped out
onto the balcony, Jumper a shadow at his heels. The evening was calm and cold
and, as the door closed behind him, blissfully silent. The setting sun painted
the sky in shades of rose and gold, with that intensity of light found only at
the beginning and ending of a day.

He placed a plate of
meat scraps, left over from their meal, on the table and took a deep breath of
the crisp air. He remained a true son of Willcommin, famous only for its
banking and its glaciers, and even the years he’d spent on sub-tropical Rainbow
hadn’t instilled a love of sunny climes in him. Perhaps heat and humidity reminded
him too much of Tzraka hiveships, and the close darkness of that bloody damn
warehouse.

He fumbled with the
closure on his high collar. He should have remembered from the last time he’d
been Triumvir how the stiff braid chaffed the edge of his jaw. With its armor,
medals, and braid, the scarlet uniform jacket hung heavy on his shoulders, but
with the Emperor in attendance at his party, a certain amount of formality was
called for. But not out here. He unsealed it, feeling the cold air against the
silk shirt beneath.

Inside his head he was
alone, none of Cypher’s carping or incessant whining or lusting after Fitz.
Likewise, his inhead display showed no prompts, no omnipresent toolbar along
the side, and no status updates. The computer under his breastbone had been
wiped of all data, taking with it access to all his augmentations, even the old
ones, leaving him utterly and frustratingly Normal. The first time he had been
without some kind of modifications since before he’d been Ari’s aide-de-camp,
personal assassin, and bed warmer. He didn’t like the itchy, vulnerable feeling
it spawned inside him, but until he could locate a cyber-tech he trusted, he’d
have to do without.

“You’re not going to
give all this good steak to those stinky flying lizards, are you?”
Jumper sat with his nose millimeters from the plate, his plexisteel claws
tapping an impatient rhythm.
“Even I know you’re not supposed to feed wild
animals.”

“It’s winter, Jumper.
At this latitude there’s not a lot of hunting; most of their prey will be
hibernating for the next few months. They need a little help to get through the
worst of the season, that’s all.”

The cat made a rude
noise.
“They should move south, or die.”

That was a little
harsh, even for Jumper. “What are you so angry about?”

“That big male
garnshrike tried to carry me off.”

Wolf rubbed at one
eyebrow. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t think a garnshrike could even lift you off
the ground.”

“Are you calling me
fat? I’m not fat; I just have a lot of heavy fur.”

“Heavy being the
operative word in that sentence.”

A handful of dark
shapes lifted from the gnarled trees atop the furthest rock spire and flapped
in their direction.

“Such a waste. Faydra
and I could have a romantic dinner on this steak.”
Jumper’s mate remained inside asleep, still recuperating from the injuries
she’d received. The cat licked his shoulder, then his paw, and swiped it across
his ears several times before he spoke again. The feel of his words in Wolf’s
mind felt different, unusually subdued for the feisty feline.
“When I saw
that bug clock Faydra it scared the crap out of me, and that kinda got me to
thinking. Me and Sweet Paws have decided to settle down and start our own
clowder. And with your baby coming, it might be nice for little Rhiawyn to have
a kitten or two to grow up with.”

“We decided against
Rhiawyn. I thought maybe Elraina.” Wolf and Fitz had changed their minds about
a name for their daughter so many times it had become a running joke. Yesterday
the big contender had been Violetta. “Where were you thinking about setting up
housekeeping?” Wolf asked, picturing a litter of mewling telepathic kittens
rampaging through his bedroom at zero-dark-thirty.

“I thought about that
meadow by the waterfall, the one with the blue flowers. Sweet Paws likes it
there.”

“That’s nice,” said
Wolf. And it was at least ten klicks from here.

“You’ll have to build
us a house, with carpet and several soft sofas. An entertainment center and, oh
yes, a processor, of course. Don’t forget to have it programmed with all my
favorite foods.”

“Anything else?” Wolf
asked. “Perhaps a landing pad for your limousine?”

“That would be cool.
And our own private pilot, of course.”
Jumper waved a paw.
“Can’t fly it myself; no opposable thumbs.”

Wolf only snorted.

Without his
augmentations, he would have to wait until the garnshrikes flew closer before
he tossed them their tidbits. They spiraled in, the last of the sun glinting
from their rainbow scales. Like quollas, their larger cousins, garnshrikes
resembled feathered dragons, but with red, gold, and blue plumage to match
their scaly bodies. The largest broke from the formation and swooped low over
the cat, its voice a rusty screech. Jumper hissed and squalled, lunged for his
tormentor, but missed.

“What did I tell you?
He’s out to get me, but I’m going to rip those gaudy tail feathers off his
sorry ass one day and feed ’um to him.”
The cat held up a
front paw, the fading sunlight gleaming from a single extended claw.
“See
this, you overdressed lizard. It’s got your name written on it.”

With much screeching
and squabbling, each of the duller-colored females snatched their offerings out
of the air, and returned to their aerie. Only the big male remained. He
clutched his donation in his talons and hovered, expecting more.

“Greedy bastard.”
Jumper grabbed the last piece of steak and dived under the table.

Fitz stepped out onto
the balcony, and the cat took the opportunity to sprint through the open door
back into the safety of the house.

“So this is where
you’re hiding. Our guests were beginning to wonder if you’d abandoned them.”

“Just getting a bit of
fresh air.” He watched her come toward him, his heart accelerating from the
pure joy of knowing she would be in his bed tonight.

“And feeding the
wildlife. Didn’t anyone ever tell you that you weren’t supposed to do that?”
She slid her arms inside his jacket, embracing him as she snuggled her face
against his shirt.

“Sucking up to your commanding
officer, General?”

She leaned back and
studied his face, her smile crooked and suggestive. “Soldier, you ain’t seen sucking
up. Wait until our guests have left tonight and I have you all to myself.”

“Can’t wait.” He
nuzzled the hollow beneath her ear.

She giggled in a most
un-senior-officer way. Her mood sobered as her fingers brushed the golden
dragon pins on the collar of her black uniform. “I barely had time to get used
to being called Colonel. This has to be the shortest time in grade for a
promotion.”

“Emperors can do that.”
He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Ari just wanted to show her
appreciation for—.”

“Chopping her arm off?”
Fitz snickered. “I’d hate to see what I’d be expected to do to get promoted to
Triumvir.”

“Oh, so you’re after my
job now?”

“I’ll be satisfied with
general for now, but generals don’t get to go out on field operations much.”

“Neither do parents.
And we’re both going to be one of those soon. We’ll need to stay closer to home
until Elraina is older.”

“Elraina? I thought we
decided on Kerstia.”

“No. We hadn’t really
decided on anything. What about Zoelle?”

Fitz rolled her eyes.
“I never liked that one. Maybe Leoma? Britta? Storm? We only have until late
spring, when she comes out of the artificial womb. We have to have a name by
then, or she’ll legally become
Baby FitzWarren Youngblood
.”

“Youngblood FitzWarren.
If she follows her parents into fleet, carrying the same last name as the
Supreme Military Commander would be a liability. FitzWarren, on the other hand,
is fairly common.”

He brushed a hand
across his stubbly hair, once again its normal pale color. All the scars from
his dash through the flames had faded; all but the ones left on his soul. “What
have you found out about the fire at the warehouse?”

Fitz stepped from the
comfort of his arms and slumped against the wide stone balustrade, crossing her
arms. “Still preliminary, but the body count is two Normals, two augies and an
undetermined number of Tzrakas. Nothing definite on identifications yet.
Beneath the floor we found a labyrinth of tunnels with exits popping up all
over the Warren. I don’t want to think about it, but we could have bugs loose
down there. I have my people chasing down every lead and reported sighting.
Seems the residents of the Warren are a bit jittery and seeing bugs
everywhere.”

She rested her cheek
against his shoulder. “Pike traced down Cypher for me, or rather who he used to
be. Jack Selkirk, a low-level DIS data-pusher with no family or friends. His
co-workers described him as a loser with delusions of grandeur. Always bragged
about hitting it big one day. Seems he embezzled fifty grand from a field
operations account. DIS caught up with him trying to board a shuttle off-world.
After that, he seemed to disappear.”

“Tritico probably had
him mind-ripped and his body thrown in an industrial recycler. Even he deserved
better than that.” Wolf braced his hands against the cold stone and stared out
across the ocean. “As soon as you’ve identified Jan’s remains, I’d like to send
them back to his homeworld. He might still have family there.” His voice broke.
“I keep thinking there should have been another way.”

“You didn’t have a
choice. He would have destroyed the Empire; killed us all…”

“Not now, but earlier,
when it might have worked out differently if I had spoken up. After the academy
we didn’t see each other often, but whenever we’d get together for dinner or
drinks he was more and more of a stranger to me.”

“A friend’s bad
decisions are not your fault.”

“Aren’t they? Aren’t we
responsible to those we care about? To speak up when others don’t?”

She wrapped her arms
around him and whispered, “What did I do to deserve such a wonderful, complex
man?”

The door opened, light
spilling across the balcony. “There you are, Pops. I figured I’d find you
love-birds out here,” Garion Ransahov said, joining them. “Mother sent me to
look for you. She’s getting a bit antsy from all that itching of her arm
growing back. Said only dessert would help, so we want to cut the cake before
that crazy cat of yours starts eating it.”

Wolf cocked an eyebrow
at this son. “Pops?”

“You’d prefer something
else, like Daddy? Or ‘Hey, Old Man’?” He’d definitely inherited Wolf’s
mischievous smile.

“Wolf will do nicely.”
He draped an arm around Fitz’s shoulders and they started inside, but he stopped.
“You two go on ahead. There’s something I have to do in my office. I’ll be just
a minute. Don’t let Jumper get near the cake.”

Once in the wood-paneled
quiet of his sanctuary, Wolf extracted a data crystal from his pocket, inserted
it into the computer, and copied it. He named it an obscure title, passworded
it, then erased and ejected the crystal before he dumped it in the recycler.
After pouring a glass of vilaprim, he sat back, opened the file and steepled
his fingers against his lips.

A stranger stared back
at him, bald headed and bushy bearded.

“What’s this?” Wolf
asked.

“I’m just trying out
some new faces,” Cypher replied. “Do you like it?”

“It doesn’t suit you.”

“What about this?” The
image morphed into the countenance of a well-known and distinguished Tri-D
newsman.

“Definitely not you.”

“I guess I’ll stick
with this.”

Wolf found himself
staring at his own face, but with a mop of dark curly hair.

“I’m surprised you
didn’t hit the delete button on me,” Cypher said.

“I told you I
wouldn’t.”

“I haven’t given you
much reason to like me.”

“You got us both out of
that warehouse alive. I owe you for that.”

“Yeah, I did save our
butt there. So what are you going to do with me?”

“Haven’t decided.
Putting you in a body would mean taking it from someone else…”