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When Sparks Fly Page 17


  Gem sighed and slid it over. “So…are we talking a matter of weeks, or what?”

  “Maybe. Got cabin fever already?”

  “Yeah. I’m twitchy,” she confided. “I don’t know what to do with all this downtime.”

  He considered the immaculate kitchen. “Cooking and cleaning aren’t enough?”

  Her smile was wry. “Honestly, it’s like a vacation. I was never good at vacation—not that I ever got much experience. I hardly know what to do with myself.”

  Blue gave her a sly look.

  “No, Blue,” she retorted.

  He shrugged, gave an amused smile. “Can you blame me? I’ve got plenty of free time, too. And I desire you.”

  “Well, maybe you should learn something new to do in your free time. Why don’t you help me cook today?” she suggested with a smile. But it was obvious she didn’t expect him to say yes.

  “Sounds good!” he replied. “Just don’t get upset when I set myself on fire.”

  To Gem’s surprise, she found Blue a good hand in the kitchen. His arm was stiff, but there were plenty of things he could still do, and he worked without complaint. She found herself actually enjoying his company.

  When she stepped outside later to call the guys in for dinner, she was surprised to see Xera covered in grime and sweat, her short, dyed-green curls plastered to her head. She looked more like a field hand than a pampered seductress. It was obvious she’d been working beside the men. If they had visitors now, her condition might be hard to explain.

  Xera just grunted when Gem pointed it out. “I’ll go soft in that kitchen. I need to stay in shape for the academy.”

  Gem made a noncommittal hum as she gazed out over the farm. In the distance she could see the transport-sized rock-splitter robot they’d rented. It slowly rolled over the dirt closest to the iceberg, pausing to emit sonic waves that shivered the solid rock into smaller dirt particles. At a rate of 2,000 square feet an hour, the machine had its work cut out. This particular asteroid was roughly twenty-seven miles wide and forty-four miles long.

  Not all of the rock would be turned to farm soil, of course. Buildings were already being “printed” with a giant construction arm. Also rented, the construction machine was very simple to use. Once a site was leveled and prepped, the machine and its crew of two got set up. All you had to do was select a design and keep the “printer cartridge” full of cement. Once started, the machine could print one three-dimensional house per day. On day two the hollow walls were fitted with prefab, wireless energy transmitters, snap-in light fixtures and plumbing. The third day would see the filling of the hollow walls with a type of spray insulation. After that the roof would go up, for the walls would have had time to cure. Superefficient solar panels would be mounted on top.

  Gem had to admit the process was amazing. She could see herself investing in a venture like this. But suddenly she wondered who was funding it. This kind of setup wasn’t cheap. For that matter, who would knowingly allow a bunch of Narc officers to use this equipment?

  Blue shrugged when she asked him. “Maybe Zsak knows.”

  “It’s a private investor,” his friend remarked. “He’d rather not have his affiliation with our office mouthed around, you know? I can tell you he has a few bucks, though. Constructing this type of digs isn’t cheap.”

  Freshly showered, Xera set her supper plate down at their table of four. “I’ll say. Have you seen the blueprints for this place, Gem? It’s going to look like a private estate! Not sure what they’re going to grow that will make enough profit to pay this place off before doomsday, though.” She shook her head.

  “Medicinal herbs,” Blue supplied. He set his computer on the table and changed it to projection mode. A holographic map spread out before them.

  “I’ve had time to read,” he explained, answering their curious looks. “Once dried, some of these plants go for as much as illegal drugs would, but they are completely lawful.” A series of plants, complete with captions, scrolled past. “They hope this will serve as a model for other farmers who want to pay off their land, too. A portion of this island will be set up for tenant farmers to grow their own food, both for themselves and their livestock. It should be a nice place once it’s done.”

  Gem looked at Xera, both pleased and amazed. “We couldn’t afford a whole rock, but this is genius. What about investing in something like this? Someone with some business sense could make a real go of it.”

  Xera shrugged. “It sounds rosy, but what are the risks? Crop failures, bad tenants…How many ventures have we seen go bankrupt? I say we keep all our money invested in The Spark. You have plans to expand, remember? It’s not as exciting to stick with what you know, but it is practical.”

  Gem mulled that over, still tempted to diversify. “It would be nice to have a trustworthy financial advisor, someone who’s already found the path, you know?” She relented at Xera’s frown of concern. “Don’t worry, I see your point, sis. I really don’t want to risk our futures.”

  Zsak poked a vegetable with his fork, hesitated, then passed it up in favor of meat. “You seem to be doing well enough with what you’ve got,” he remarked.

  Blue shook his head slightly, but if he had any doubts, he didn’t elaborate. “As soon as the rock bot gets done breaking up the soil, we’re going to seed it with good microbes, bugs and fungi. When that’s done we’ll start the first green manure. In a couple of months it will be plowed under to enrich the soil. We’ll do that a couple of times before the cash crops are started.”

  “Not that we’ll be here. Seriously, why bother? Whatever our deal is with the owner, why not just throw some fertilizer down and get farming?” Xera asked.

  “A person could do that, and wear out the soil,” Blue explained. “This is the most economical way to build the soil up. An owner would want really good dirt to produce the best plants. The best plants get top dollar. To do otherwise just isn’t good business sense.”

  “Huh,” Xera said, and promptly lost interest.

  Gem considered Blue with interest. She’d never seen this side of him, never known he cared anything for business. Now that he was being his true self, what else might they have in common? She asked more questions, and before she knew it they’d whiled away most of an hour just talking investments and commerce.

  Xera had long ago wandered off in boredom when Blue finally excused himself to go take his meds. Gem nodded absently and watched him leave, then rose to go take a walk. He’d given her a lot to think about.

  It was dusk outside, with the last rays of the sun sinking over the rim of the asteroid island. She imagined the belt of breathable air outside, and imagined farther still, to the unseen islands beyond, dotting the edges of sight. The area must be a beautiful view from a ship.

  Her aimless roaming took her down into a crater where the sunshine quickly retreated, leaving only long shadows. There was a three-story ridge to her left, but the low walls on her right allowed her to glance over and see their craft and the entrance to their home caves.

  It was cooling off as night fell. She’d go back in a little bit, but she wanted to think about Blue a little more.

  A sudden faint noise to her left made Gem turn her head. She glanced up, but there was nothing to see but a rock wall. Then a following shout made her look back and to the right. A crushing weight immediately dropped onto her left shoulder. Something cracked, and then the weight rolled off her arm, hit the ground and settled hard against her ankle.

  Gem howled in pain and dropped helplessly, barely registering that it was a huge rock that had felled her. She gritted her teeth against the waves of pain, each beat of her heart bringing a new agony.

  Footsteps sounded as someone ran up. Blue snatched her hand, lifted her up and ran with her, never giving her a chance to protest, not saying a word even if he could have been heard over her shrieks. He was hurting her, and she raged against the pain, not understanding why. She was so agonized by the time he set her down in their home ca
ve that she couldn’t make out what he was saying.

  He left her and someone else took his place. It was Xera, and her sister was trying to soothe her, but her body hurt. She couldn’t breathe.

  There was a tiny sting against her good arm, so insignificant it barely registered. In moments the pain receded, became manageable. Gem began to curse Blue.

  “He saved your life,” Xera told her fiercely, breaking in against her rant. She helped the group medic cut off Gem’s shirt. “Someone dropped a rock on you. He’s gone out hunting the man who did it.”

  “What?” Even with the meds, Gem whimpered as the medic probed her shoulder.

  Someone new skidded in with a medical kit and handed the medic a scanner. He stopped probing to wave the device over Gem’s injury. At the view of her bones on the display, he grimaced. “Nasty break there.”

  “Do we need to get her to a doctor?” Xera asked anxiously.

  The medic frowned. “I am a doctor.”

  “Okay, but can you fix this without a hospital, I mean. Does she need surgery?”

  He shook his head. “I can fix her up on the ship—it’s got everything I need. We’ll have to move her, though, and we’ll need a stretcher. Looks like her ankle is banged up, too, though that’s only a bad bruise. See?” He held the scanner over the ankle in question.

  Xera winced. “I’ll go see what’s keeping the stretcher.”

  “Just don’t go anywhere alone,” the medic warned.

  He covered Gem with a blanket. Grateful, she closed her eyes and tried not to think too hard.

  They hadn’t found the attacker.

  Blue studied the ground as the rest of his team fanned out. There were a few tracks in the dust, then nothing. It was as if the man had suddenly vanished.

  Zsak was up on the canyon wall, too, trying to find out who’d breached their security. He held up a scanning device and remarked, “I’m getting traces of Kiuyian DNA.”

  Blue looked sharply up. If a shape-shifter were involved, it would answer a lot of questions. “Do we have any match on record?” he asked.

  “It’ll take a bit to check against all we have, but this explains the sudden lack of tracks.”

  “He flew out,” Blue agreed. “He probably got on this island the same way. Who ever notices a bird? Our surveillance equipment wouldn’t register it as a threat, either. We’ll have to reprogram. Meanwhile, we’ll regroup around the women. Half our men watching them isn’t enough now. We’ll update them, and I want to talk to Azor. He’ll need to know what we’re dealing with.”

  Blue felt a stab of guilt. There’d always been a risk in bringing the women to such a desolate place, but he’d felt it was worth it—for many reasons. Military ships were patrolling the general area, and his men here were experienced. If there’d been any lingering threat, they should have nullified it.

  Of course, none of his plans had factored in a Kiuyian. That oversight could bring major complications. He’d never had to deal with an adversary who could change form at will. Not in his work as a policeman, at any rate.

  And, nobody knew all the capabilities of the shifters. There was speculation, of course, but they were a tight-lipped race who guarded their own secrets. He knew not all of them could shift. Fewer could take the guise of another humanoid, though nobody understood why. Perhaps it was too difficult for their bodies to overcome their instinctual, natural form. Maybe it was taboo.

  Regardless, he had to warn his men to be wary of the possibility. They didn’t know what this enemy could do. Even if they found a file on him, it was doubtful it would list all his abilities.

  Blue gazed speculatively at the sky. At the very least, their enemy could fly. That advantage was dangerous enough, although a good homing rocket could overcome it. Not that he had one of those at hand.

  His hand brushed the grip of his gun and he thanked his lucky stars that he could make his enemy bleed.

  “Let’s get moving,” he ordered his men. They didn’t have time to linger here; his women were in danger.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Nobody goes anywhere alone.” Blue stared Xera down, and for once she had nothing to say.

  They were on the ship they’d flown here, in the cabin she shared with her sister. Gem was too medicated and tired to care much what rules Blue was laying down. For that matter, she agreed with him; she wasn’t in a hurry to collect more injuries.

  “We think we’re dealing with a shape-shifter. We’re not sure yet, but we think he flew in at the same time as one of the delivery ships, either in a small craft or as some type of avian. Since we can’t find any trace of a ship, my money’s on the bird form. We know it’s possible for such creatures to fly between the islands—imported flocks do it all the time.”

  “But why do you think it’s a Kiuyian?” Xera asked.

  “DNA traces found at the scene,” he said. “We haven’t found any matches in our crime database yet, so we don’t know who he is, but based on his actions, we suspect he’s got a record. You don’t just jump up one day and decide to become a killer for hire.”

  “We know a little more than that,” Zsak said as he walked through the open door. “Intel has finally found a match. Our friend’s name is Kiyl. You were right about the record, though—he’s a wanted felon with an addiction to drugs. Our sources are saying he’s the bastard son of the drug lord who was targeting Gem.”

  Xera was listening closely. “Was targeting her?”

  The men exchanged glances. “We just found out this morning that he was arrested. And he was killed in the process. We were waiting to see how the complications played out before telling you.”

  “I see,” Xera said coldly. It was plain she was unhappy with the delay. Not that she could have done anything. “Go on.”

  Zsak tilted his head to crack his neck. “Unfortunately, our would-be assassin seems to blame Gem for his father’s death. Why he arrived at that conclusion, we can’t be sure. He was apparently on the fringes of his father’s operation, never very well connected. Someone must have leaked it that she was responsible for pinpointing him. There are a lot of rumors going around about Gem and Blue, and the wrong people now know he’s a cop. A lot of them would like getting revenge on a snitch and ‘her boyfriend, the Narc.’”

  Xera’s murderous glare tore into Blue. It was obvious she felt like killing him herself, for putting her sister in more danger.

  Gem finally spoke up. “How are we going to stop him?” she asked. She made an effort to sit up but quit immediately. Her face was creased with lines of pain.

  “We aren’t,” Blue told her firmly. He sat down on her bunk, facing her. “You are going to heal up and let me and Zsak take care of this. This guy is motivated by family, so he’s not going to quit when the money dries up, like other hunters would.”

  “Then why are we staying here? Shouldn’t we be headed somewhere else?” Xera demanded.

  Zsak shook his head. “You’re not listening. He’s patient, and good at hiding. There’s little point in running unless you want to do it for the rest of your life. If we can nail him here, the threat is over. We’ve got backup on the way, and holing up in the ship seems the best strategy. You really don’t want to be looking over your shoulder for the rest of your life, do you?”

  “What’s to stop him from just flying away? If he sees a bunch of ships arriving…” She trailed off as the answer came to her. Even if he could fly, he couldn’t outrun a starship. And of course there was always his desire for revenge. “Oh.”

  “Right. He’s not going to run.”

  “It’s late. We should get some sleep.” Blue chose the bunk opposite Gem’s. Even if he’d have liked to curl up with her, the bunks were too narrow, and he didn’t want to jar her shoulder.

  Xera frowned at him. “What do you think you’re doing?” she grunted.

  Blue regarded her calmly. “I told you that someone would be with you and your sister at all times.”

  “Are you planning to join u
s in the bathroom, too?” Xera asked acidly.

  He ignored her. “You can stay here or leave with Zsak. This ship should be secure, but always stay within hearing range of a friend.”

  Xera looked at him sternly, then glanced at her sister, who was in no shape to feel amorous. She exhaled heavily and finally left them to their rest.

  Gem waited until the door was closed. “Thank you, Blue,” she said softly.

  There was a long pause, in which he could have said many things. In the end, he said quietly, “You’re welcome, darlin’. Sweet dreams.”

  Xera couldn’t sleep. She prowled the bridge until Zsak started giving her annoyed glances. He was working on the computers and talking into the communicator perched on his ear. Apparently, her restless energy was distracting.

  It had never been a problem back home. In the inn, an extra body prowling the night had been an asset. Sometimes she’d helped out in the bar, occasionally ousting an angry drunk. Bar fights did damage and cost money, so she’d taken martial arts training early on to help keep damage to a minimum. She’d become an expert on disabling the unruly with a minimum of fuss, and she didn’t take chances. A drunk might be apologetic later, but that wouldn’t stop him from lashing out when he was first getting going.

  She wished the changeling would throw a fist at her: he wouldn’t be the first Kiuyian she’d taken down. Unfortunately, rocks in the dark seemed more his thing. Growling to herself, she took pity on Zsak and headed to the galley for some water.

  The deck echoed dully under her feet, the sound of metal decking barely muted by the rubberized coating underfoot. The ship felt empty, cold. She was used to voices, even in the dead of the night.

  She never knew what triggered the impulse. Maybe it was a smell, a sound. All she knew was that she rounded the corner into the galley and adrenaline surged through her blood. A shadow moved, and instinctively she struck out, her fist connecting with a hard stomach that whooshed with deflating air. She saw green hair as the man bent, and she didn’t pause to study the face—just punched him hard in the temple. Stunned, he wavered a second, which was all she needed to knock him down and get him in an armlock. She didn’t depend on the arm, though; a doped-up fighter could get out of that. The knife she drew and pressed to his throat was another matter.