Close Encounters Page 3

  Nearby, heat waves shimmied above the group of flexiplast Quonset huts the Dynatec crew had erected. Several people paused to watch me disembark, their faces curious and expectant. Only one looked happy to see me, and she was a tiny thing with café au lait skin.

  “Max,” I subvocalized. “Who’s the woman to my far right, the one who’s smiling?”

  He took a second to compare her image with the crew’s ID list he had on file. “That’s Second Lieutenant Claudia Karle. She’s in charge of mapping.”

  I made a mental note to try and talk to her later. Since she was emitting feelings of friendliness, she might be a good source of information.

  “Well, well. Senior Agent Smith.”

  My gaze swung to the man who had spoken as I descended the remaining steps. I’d crossed paths with Frisk before. He was the kind of Natural who thought GEPs were second-class citizens, there only for his entertainment. Especially the females, and the scuttlebutt was that he liked his sex rough and kinky.

  He was also part of the crew that had appropriated the assets of the Sematians, a primitive race in the Sema Galaxy, leaving the planet denuded of resources.

  I was the agent who’d gone in and cleaned up the mess, and while I hadn’t been able to prove Dynatec had broken the law, everyone knew they had. I’d been gunning for them ever since. No people should have to go through what the Sematians had.

  The surprise here was that Frisk was in charge of this particular mission. He usually got the smash-and-grab assignments. If a job required finesse and a capacity for thinking, then Frisk needed an extra brain to do the work. I took another look around but didn’t see anyone who appeared capable of controlling the man. The day was young, however, and I’d keep an open mind.

  “Captain Frisk. Nice place you’ve got here.”

  “We think so.” He extended a hand, which I ignored. The first self-defense lesson a GEP learns is not to offer a hand unless you want to draw back a bloody stump. It’s something the prehistoric men of Old Earth had once known, but present-day Naturals seem to have forgotten. It’s also one of the easiest ways to tell a Natural from a GEP, since no GEP will shake hands. Even the GEPs who are trying to pass as Naturals can’t bring themselves to participate in this ritual. Not when it’s embedded in us from birth that injury to the hands leads to helplessness and death.

  Frisk let his hand drop. “I’m honored Alien Affairs would send someone of your caliber for such a small job.”

  Sure he was. And I’m High Empress Tutti-Frutti, queen of the galaxy.

  “We don’t consider the potential extinction of an entire race a ‘small job,’ Captain. As a matter of fact, my first order of business is to discover why the Buri are dying out and see if it can be reversed.”

  While I was talking, I lowered my shields. Waves of arrogance, certainty, and smugness bombarded me, and I forced myself not to wince. Whatever was going on, Frisk was pretty sure it was under control. He waved one of the watching crew forward. The guy was young, tall and blond, with brilliant green eyes. If I’d had a brother, this is what he would have looked like. But GEPs don’t have families. The closest we came was shared genetic material, and the same combination was never used twice.

  “Maybe Dr. Redfield can be of some assistance in your research. He’s our chief science officer. Doc, this is Kiera Smith, Alien Affairs’ best agent.”

  He nodded at the introduction, his gaze wary, but didn’t offer to shake hands. Another GEP. Interesting. Especially when you considered he was probably the only person on the planet who, theoretically, should have come close to matching me in physical strength.

  He didn’t, of course. If humans can be compared to horses, then Naturals where draft animals while regular GEPs were quarter horses. They were faster, smarter, sleeker and had better reflexes than their creators. They were also created sterile. No way were Natural humans going to take a chance on being bred out of existence.

  I, on the other hand, am a supersonic thoroughbred. Because instead of using DNA from Naturals to make me, Gertz illegally used DNA from the best GEPs he could find and then manipulated it even more. Not only am I an empath, my reflexes are so fast that I can pick an insect out of the air like it was sitting still. I am so fast that I can run rings around a normal GEP going at top speed. And my body heals what would normally be fatal wounds in seconds. I am also fully functional, another fact only the boss and I knew. After all, what good did it do Gertz to play God if his creation couldn’t reproduce?

  So, while Redfield was smart enough to be Frisk’s puppet master, he was no match for me. However, with Frisk’s attitude toward GEPs, I couldn’t see him taking orders from the doctor.

  “Senior Agent Smith.” When Redfield spoke, his gaze was shuttered. “I’ll be happy to help in any way I can, and you’re more than welcome to avail yourself of our labs and archives.”

  “Thank you, but that won’t be necessary.” I gestured at Max. “I have state-of-the-art equipment on my ship.”

  Frisk’s gaze ran over Max, and he frowned. “An artificial intelligence Surge Zephyr? That must have set Alien Affairs back a pretty chit. Seems a little like overkill.”

  I bared my teeth in a fake smile. “Not at all. If anything happens to an agent, a ship like Max is perfectly capable of completing the mission on his own. That alone makes him indispensable.”

  Okay, warning given. I turned back to Redfield. “Have you taken DNA samples from the Buri?”

  He glanced at Frisk and I detected a short burst of uneasiness before he answered. Even more interesting than his GEP status. Note to self: at some point, cut the doctor away from the herd and see if he’s willing to talk.

  “No, I’m afraid not.” Guilt surged to the forefront of his emotions. “The Buri are too aggressive. They won’t let us near them. The only way to obtain samples would be to stun them first, and since there are so few of them I didn’t want to risk it.”

  I caught a movement in my peripheral vision and saw Redfield’s eyes widen. “Agent Smith, there’s a rock cat coming out of your ship.”

  I gave him points for his lack of panic. Frisk, on the other hand, had gone rather pale, so I addressed my answer to the doctor. “That’s Crigo. If you don’t bother him, he won’t bother you.”

  As though to prove my point, Crigo trotted by, nose to the ground as he examined every bush and blade of grass, paying no attention to the Dynatec camp. Behind me, the ship hatch closed, and Max lifted silently from the ground.

  “Where’s he going?” Frisk was having a hard time watching Max and keeping an eye on Crigo at the same time.

  “The ship? He’s going to the other side of the lake to set up my work area.”

  Frisk stiffened. “I thought you’d work out of our camp.”

  “Sorry, Captain. I need to be close to the Buri, and they obviously don’t care much for your crew.” I’d already spotted the youngster from the holo, lounging against a tree at the edge of the jungle. “Do they always watch your camp so closely?”

  “Always,” Redfield answered before Frisk could respond.

  “And several of them usually follow the mapping team when they go out.”

  I nodded. “He doesn’t seem too excited about a new ship landing.”

  “We have supply drones come in once a month. They’re used to seeing ships land and take off.” The doctor made an odd little hand gesture at the end of his comment, kind of a “come here, stay away” movement in abbreviated form. If I weren’t so good at reading body language I’d have missed it.

  I was contemplating his meaning when Frisk interrupted us. “How long do you expect this to take, Smith?”

  “I have two months before I’m required by law to render a decision, Captain, and I expect my research to take every second of that time limit.” I smiled. “But even if the Buri really are dying out, you’ve got a long wait. The ones I saw on the vids looked pretty healthy. Who knows what their natural life span is? You could be looking at another hundred cycles or so b
efore you’re allowed to open up the planet for trade and colonization.”

  “I expect you to keep me updated on any discoveries you make.” Waves of dislike oozed from Frisk, and I arched a brow.

  “Expect all you want, Frisk. I make my reports to Alien Affairs. What you’ll get is my final decision. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get started.”

  With a nod to Redfield, I strolled toward the jungle. Crigo fell in beside me, his walk graceful, ears constantly twitching. “Like this place, do you?” I murmured.

  He gave a low chuff of agreement, his head swinging curiously in the Buri’s direction. The youngster wasn’t lounging anymore. He was standing at attention, nervously fingering a spear as we drew nearer, his gaze shifting from me to Crigo.

  “I don’t think he knows what to make of you,” I told Crigo. “Why don’t you act like you’re heading for Max?”

  The rock cat cast a longing glance toward the jungle, then turned left. He wouldn’t go far. In spite of his surly attitude, he viewed me as an unruly kitten. One he felt free to discipline when required, but was also obligated to protect.

  The youngster watched him go, then turned back to face me. A hundred feet separated us, and I took two slow steps in his direction. On the off chance they were telepathic, I broadcast waves of friendliness, warmth and curiosity. Nothing. He didn’t so much as twitch, just stared at me with his big auburn eyes.

  “Max,” I subvocalized. “Are you recording this?”

  “Recording.” His voice came from the tiny chip embedded behind my ear. It was both a communication and tracking device, and it allowed Max and I to talk without anyone else being the wiser.

  Still emoting, I took another two steps, hands lifted to show I was holding no weapon. This time I got a reaction. The youngster’s lips curled back to uncover strong, white teeth, and a low warning sound emerged from between his lips. Taking a tighter two-handed grip on his spear, he shifted it across the front of his body in a defensive stance.

  Pausing, I studied the spearhead. There was something familiar about it, as if I’d seen it or another like it before. It was a flat black metal with odd markings etched into its surface.

  My musing triggered the memory of a picture I’d once run across of a spear belonging to a giant species called the Ashwani, which had been extinct long before their planet was discovered. “Max, can you get a clear image of his spear?” I subvocalized.

  “Yes. I’ve taken a holo of it.”

  “Good. See if you’ve got anything on a race called the Ashwani and compare the spear’s markings to any written language we have for them.”

  Junior was still grimacing at me, so I took a deep breath and walked closer, hoping I wouldn’t have to hurt him. His body tensed, and a growling sound rumbled from his throat.

  Staying loose and keeping my weight balanced on the balls of my feet, I took another step. I was only fifty feet from him now, and apparently I crossed some imperceptible barrier. Without further warning, he charged.

  On the trip from ZT Twelve to Orpheus, Max and I had run the vids almost constantly, searching for consistencies in the grunts and growls that made up the Buri’s language. The first time I’d mimicked the sounds, Crigo had fallen out of the antigrav chair and hissed at me. When I laughed, he stuck his nose in the air and vanished into another part of the ship.

  There was only one sound I was reasonably sure about, and only because I’d seen the results when the big guy used it. When Junior charged, I stopped and let out a roar that had the fauna chittering in the trees.

  The effect on the youngster was electric. He reacted as though he’d slammed into an invisible wall, staring at me with eyes the size of Max’s portholes. I could feel waves of surprise and uncertainty pouring from him.

  The bushes at the edge of the jungle rustled, and Junior looked over his shoulder as two more males stepped into sight. One was the big guy from the vids, the obvious leader of the tribe. The other was one I hadn’t seen before. He was somewhere between the youngster and the big guy in size, and his hair and eyes were a deep brown. He didn’t look happy. A scowl marred his features as he barked at Junior.

  When the youngster answered, his tone was low and apologetic. The two new arrivals listened, and then refocused their attention on me. A deep anger and defiance emanated from Brownie, but all I got from the big guy was a vague sense of curiosity and interest as his black eyes moved over me. He stood with his long legs braced apart, arms crossed over his broad chest, while Brownie gestured toward me and grunted ferocious-sounding epithets.

  With a distinct air of resignation, the big guy growled a response. Brownie, radiating satisfaction, handed his spear to Junior and started toward me.

  Damn. I was hoping to avoid this. But since I couldn’t, I was glad it was Brownie. His attitude got on my nerves.

  I held my ground until he lunged, then moved to one side. With my faster reflexes, I could have circled him three times, filed my nails, and had lunch before he touched me, but I didn’t want to show off. Yet, from his perspective, it must have seemed like I’d vanished. He staggered to a halt and gazed around.

  I tapped him on the back. “Looking for me?”

  With a roar of fury, he spun and grabbed. This time I didn’t dodge. Instead, I bent at the waist and twisted my lower torso into the air. My feet hit his jaw in rapid succession as I spun into the air. His head rocked back, but he didn’t go down. His eyes narrowed, studying me as he touched his bleeding lip with one hand.

  Flexing my knees, I dropped into a defensive stance and waited. He came at me slower, a calculating gleam in his eyes. Warily, we circled each other, him edging ever closer. It didn’t take an empath to understand his plan. He figured if he could only get his hands on me, I wouldn’t stand a chance. And if I were a Natural, he’d have been right.

  But I wasn’t even a normal GEP.

  I stopped circling and let him come. With a grunt of triumph, his massive arms fisted around me and lifted me from the ground. Using the edge of my boot, I made contact with his shin, and then jammed my elbow into his throat.

  Choking and gasping, he released me to clutch at his neck, and I used the movement to grab his arm and toss him over my hip. He landed on his back with a bone-jarring thud that would have knocked the air out of a lesser creature, and then rolled to his feet.

  Before he could take another step toward me, I dropped to the ground and kicked his feet out from under him. Even as he hit the dirt again, I returned to an upright position, but the maneuver had knocked my cap off and my braid spilled down my back.

  Instantly, the big guy roared a command that froze Brownie in his tracks. He glowered in his leader’s direction while they exchanged a series of grunts and growls, then three sets of eyes lowered to my chest.

  “I think they just realized you’re female,” Max commented in my ear.

  With a smile, I propped my hands on my hips and thrust my boobs out so there would be no doubt in their minds. Hey, they might not be my best feature, but I was proud of what I had.

  Brownie groaned and shut his eyes, humiliation in every line of his body. Not only had he got his butt whipped, it had been a female who’d done the job.

  The big guy snapped another order, and Brownie shot me a hate-filled glare as he retrieved his spear from Junior and slunk off into the jungle. I’d have to do something about that, and soon, I realized. I couldn’t afford to have enemies in the Buri tribe.

  I glanced back at the two remaining Buri to find them watching me, the big guy’s dark gaze intent, as though he couldn’t quite figure me out. Still smiling, I walked slowly forward until I was right in front of him. Junior took a few steps back, but the big guy held his ground.

  Normally I wouldn’t have to worry about names as our scientific team would have supplied the important ones during introductions on my arrival. This time I was on my own. I’d named Junior because of his age and Brownie based on his color. But it didn’t feel right to name the big guy that way
for some reason.

  “Key-rah,” I said, touching my chest. “Key-rah.” I moved my fingers to his chest. “What’s your name?”

  He glanced at my fingers and then lifted his gaze back to mine, his expression inscrutable. I wasn’t picking up a single emotion from him, even when I touched him. All I felt was the solid warmth of his skin under my hand.

  “Key-rah.” I tried again. “My name is Key-rah. Your name?” He captured my wrist in his big hand, holding it gently but firmly so I couldn’t pull away. His free hand went around me and lifted my braid.

  He studied it for a moment, rubbing it between his fingers, then leaned down and sniffed. Now I was getting something from him. A feeling of…expectation? That was the only way I could describe it. Whatever it was, he was pleased.

  His lips curved in a smile and he grunted something to Junior as he straightened. Without any warning, he released me and turned back to the jungle, vanishing into the thick brush.

  “Same to ya, buddy,” I grumbled. “And if you just told him I was a harmless female, you’ve got a big surprise coming.”

  Junior watched me warily throughout my remarks, so I gave him my most reassuring smile, then turned toward Max. To my surprise, the young Buri followed me. I brightened. Apparently the big guy’s comment hadn’t been derogatory after all. He must have ordered Junior to keep an eye on me. I looked back at the clearing just in time to see another male, this one with dark gray hair, take up the position Junior had vacated.

  So I rated my own guard, did I? Well, if Junior thought he was going to spend the rest of the day holding up a tree, he had another thought coming.

  It had been my experience that societies with low technology tend to be uncomfortable approaching Max, so when I was on a job, I always set up Quonset huts to live and work in. Since the huts came preprogrammed to erect themselves, the hardest part of this task involved wrestling the boxes onto the antigrav sled for transportation.