Connection: Malfunction Trilogy, #3

By J.H. Moore

The only choice left is to make is war.

 

They ran. They fought. They stood between the jaws of death and the City that had persecuted them. 

But with hope of a real future for humanity and themselves, they want more than survival.

Bas's mind and body has deteriorated under the heartless control of the City, but even as he finds new allies, he is faced with a battle for what's left of himself.

Cowl is struggling to adjust to his new handicap. He has no love left to give to Menrva.

Menrva feels more alone now than ever. Her pregnancy has put her already precarious leadership on fragile ground, behind enemy lines. 

When the City discovers Menrva's pregnancy, she, Bas, and the others are forced to abandon their people to save this unborn child.

Exposed to an alien planet which is already infested with Wreckers driven by the revenge-hungry biobot Eris, and surrounded by dangers old and new, Bas, Cowl, and Menrva know only one thing for certain: They will not accept defeat this time. 

Is there hope left for mankind, or have they gone too far to turn the tides?

 

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: J.H. Moore
• Release date: May 23, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393593508

Book preview

Chapter One: Finding Solid Ground

Bas focused on the downward turn of Launay’s lips as he spoke, and the way his forehead wrinkled. He was angry. Even now, with Launay’s role in the Compound keeping him well away from Bas most of the time, it was making his chest ache. He drew in a deep breath, filling the ache until the edges of the emptiness were pressed against his skin, and let it out in a slow, steady stream. The hot air leaked between his lips, and he shook the tingles out of his fingers.

He had to keep it together. They had finally let him out of isolation. It had only been… he quickly gave up the attempt to find a number. It could have been a day, it could have been a year. It didn’t matter, not with how quickly things slipped out of his head now.

Focus.

What was Launay talking about?

Dennis waved a hand toward the ceiling, his voice following.

…sixteen… brains aren’t developed… another way. The entire weight room was hushed as Dennis’ voice pitched and rolled through his arguments.

There were other Guards there as well, but they were more irritated by Dennis than whatever Launay had just asked of them.

Sixteen. Bas scanned the room. That would be Gen 6 Borgs, if his brain was working through the information properly. There were more than a couple in the room.

He tried to run back over the years, flipping through the memories he could find. He had been going Topside in his late teens, but he and the few others of his generation had been lumped in with Gen 3 on a lot of things.

But these Borgs weren’t going Topside. This wasn’t Earth.

Dennis turned his back on Launay and headed toward Bas. His face was a storm, full of emotions Bas couldn’t even begin to find words for.

As he neared, Launay pulled away from the dispersing group of Guards and strode after him.

I need confirmation that you will do as I ask, Launay said, his voice sharp. He stole a glance at Bas, and Bas’ skin crawled as his former handler appraised him before quickly turning so Bas could only see his back.

Do I have a choice? Dennis’ jaw was set in a way that said he didn’t need to ask the question.

Not if you want to retain your position.

Well, then you have my answer. But don’t expect me to sit by quietly. Gen 6 is not ready for this, and any expert out there will agree with me. I will be speaking to Menrva about this.

Bas’ ears rang and any cognitive thought filtered out of his head. Flashes of sensation slipped through the cracks. The first time he’d felt the Connection, burning and forcing its way through his veins with its alien fingers. Fighting for breath Topside, under the massive hands of a rampaging Wrecker. The gate opening, with armor clad Borgs all around him and nothing but black sky above.

And more. More memories that were not his own, at least not that he could place. It was a flood, and it roared through his mind with a sudden release that forced him to his feet.

There was no room for thoughts as he stepped behind Launay. He could have been watching himself on a screen for all the power he had over the words rising to his lips.

Don’t speak to a Guard unless you are answering a direct question. It was a rule that had been drilled into him since he was young. Not even to say yes, sir. No, ma’am. Not even to ask instructions. You do what you are told and if you argue, you suffer the consequences.

Gen 6 are too young to Connect. Let me do it.

Launay turned slowly on his heels, eyes wide, lips parted as he looked up at Bas. His brows pushed down over his eyes and he shook his head slightly, then wheeled back to Dennis.

Bas squeezed his eyes shut, wishing he could force the last few moments back and keep his voice tucked away.

No. No. It wasn’t okay.

If they were talking about using Generation 6 biobots, they probably had the satellite up, and that meant the real work would begin. Defenses could be raised. Hunting, and colonization could go beyond the short distance the current signal was reaching. And whoever walked out the door into the unknown would be facing Eris and her ‘children’. The Wreckers were terrifying enough when they were only a few months old. They had been hatched in the belly of the Hub, reared on human flesh, and now set loose in a vast new hunting ground.

Gen 6 were just kids. They had maybe been under a Connection for a few hours of training here and there, and their training was not even finished. Numbers were down, but they had enough Gen 3 and Gen 5. They didn’t have to throw children into the Wrecker’s food dishes.

Maybe it wouldn’t make a difference to speak up, but he couldn’t just wait.

Dennis’ expression was nearly as shocked as Launay’s.

459. What do you think you are doing? Launay’s voice was low and tight as he gave up on intimidating Dennis and turned on Bas.

They aren’t ready. You’re going to kill them all. Let me go instead.

Launay’s lips twisted in a tight, disgusted grimace and he caught Dennis in his gaze. You are his handler. Why haven’t you addressed this?

Dennis blinked rapidly and looked over Launay’s head. He’s not hurting anything. He just--

He’s breaking protocol. If I have to explain it to you, you should step aside for someone who doesn’t have to be coached. Get him under control.

Listen to me - Bas didn’t get to say more before the gauntlet hit him, rushing through his body in violent, coursing waves. For a brief second every muscle in his body went taut, and his heart roared like a wounded Wrecker. Then the pain trickled from his body, and he struggled to catch his breath as Launay stood over him.

A shape in Bas’ periphery moved and he turned automatically to catch a better look. Another Borg had stepped away from the mat, one of her hands still half unwrapped and a towel draped over her shoulder.

A Gen 5 most of the Borgs knew as Ella.

I’ll go in place of a Gen 6. Any and every time. Her voice was steady, and not a hint of fear touched her eyes.

Her handler jumped to his feet, but before he could do anything a beast of a Borg dropped his weights on the floor, making half the gym jump. He surged toward the Guard, but his handler dropped him within seconds.

Stop! Bas raised his hands, panic climbing in his throat. They were going to start killing. If the Borgs hit anyone, there wouldn’t be a moment’s hesitation. Tensions were already high.

Several Guards had their hands on their guns or their gauntlets, and there wasn’t a Borg in the room that was relaxed.

We don’t want a fight. Please. We are willing, and we will do whatever needs to be done. We don’t want a fight. Bas nearly whispered the words. They must sound so wrong coming from his lips. His voice was raw and grainy from disuse, and his reputation contradicted every fumbling word. He had fought. The blood on his hands could paint the Compound red. Why would anyone listen to him? He was the wild animal here.

Dennis had skirted around Launay and stood between Bas and the door, his hand resting on his gun and his jaw tightened. He was scanning the room, but his stance suggested he had Bas and Launay in the edges of his vision. Not a soldier, perhaps, but a wary man.

Bas could have easily slipped behind him and broken his neck before anyone could get to him. Dennis was too close.

He had already shot him, back on the bridge when he’d lost his mind for a moment too long. When the Wrecker in him came out.

Still, Dennis hadn’t hit the gauntlet on him yet.

He hadn’t hit the gauntlet once, actually. Not since he’d been Bas’ handler.

I wish you wouldn’t have done that. He kept his voice low, but tension crawled across Bas’ shoulders at the familiar tone.

Movement flashed by Bas’ shoulder and he turned to see a Borg rush at a Guard who wasn’t looking. Bas threw out his arm, catching the smaller man’s hurdling body before he could work up enough speed to be a threat.

The moment he did, pain arced through his body again. The Borg’s hands scrambled on his shoulders in an attempt to hold him up as Bas’ legs gave out. A scream echoed in his head, the voice clear and entirely separate from him.

Eris.

It wasn’t the pain that brought out the animal in him, it was her, and it snapped loose like a trigger pull. He shoved the Borg away, scrambling back to his feet as the hunger and heat flooded into his chest and replaced anything resembling a clear thought.

The Guard got a few feet too close, and Bas grabbed his shoulder, throwing him to the ground. The man yelled, grabbing for him, but Bas brought his foot down hard on the upper arm, snapping the bone away from his skeleton easily.

Bas reached for his gun, but his hand hit nothing but cloth and flesh.

Another burst of pain throbbed through his head and he struggled to yank back his mind as it spiraled away. He slammed into the wall and pain radiated through him, giving him a moment of clarity.

What the hell? Where had he been shot? He couldn’t pinpoint the center of pain. It raced up and down his arms and legs, burned at the back of his neck, bunched the muscles around his torso.

He plowed his shoulder into the corner and crouched, trying to push aside the ache. This was what he was built for. He existed to cut through and keep fighting.

Fighting what?

The pain eased, and Bas blinked, trying to get the battle into focus. But it wasn’t there. Hard lines and blazing lights made his eyes sting, and a row of shocked faces surrounded him.

He was dissociating. This was just one of his episodes and Cowl would shake him out of it any moment. He had to get his bearings and…

What if he was?

Where was he?

Calm down, brother. It’s just a bad dream. Get in control of yourself. Cowl… No, Launay.

Eris.

All of them and none of them. The pain had started again and Bas tried to scramble for something that made sense.

Topside. He’d gone up for some reason, and he’d been attacked. That’s why he must have been in so much pain. Maybe he’d passed out. But they were waiting for him down below. Cowl and-- and--

Bas counted down. Counted his breaths. Counted his heartbeats. Counted…

The pain faded again and he forced himself to focus. He looked down, trying to get a bearing on what he could see. No armor. No blood. So not Topside.

But if he squinted he could see the sheen of a shield in front of his face, and the slight reflection of a map and words flashing warnings.

The pain hit again, and it brought with it the soft murmur of voices.

Bas threw his hands up and his knuckles hit a wall. Something solid. He twisted his body around and slammed into the cold surface. Reality rushed back in, pushing out the pain ripping apart his bones, pulling his mind back on its tether. But it wasn’t enough.

He turned, looking for another source of relief. The force with which he connected with the next wall was almost enough to shake the confusion from his bones, but it rushed right back in. Count. Count. Count.

It wasn’t working. He couldn’t find any solid answers in the haze around him. Haze wasn’t even the right word. Everything should make sense. The wide room with the harsh corners and the intrusive light, blinking so fast he couldn’t focus. Like the Compound.

But he wasn’t there. That was just the ghosts of old nightmares. Any moment Cowl would put a hand on his shoulder and pull him out of it.

If you can’t handle him, you need to keep him locked up.

Launay’s voice sent pins and needles down Bas’ arms. He shook his head, trying to block out the hallucination and slamming his forehead into the wall in the process.

This had to stop. There had to be an end somewhere.

That’s enough.

Bas’ arms turned to stone. The petrification worked its way across his shoulders and chest, settling into his core. With it came the realization of what was happening. If he were free, he could have moved. No, everything else was the dream, and the Compound was reality. The only reality.

He pushed aside the flashes of a past life, bringing the room back into focus.

Dennis had stepped aside to allow Launay through, though his jaw was still set, and his eyes on fire.

I can handle him. Dennis’ voice was low and his fingers clenched into fists.

What had Bas done? You don’t speak out against the Guards; that was the first lesson of many.

Launay ignored Dennis, focusing his attention on Bas. He was too tall, and Bas couldn’t turn his head to see the look on his face, but he could imagine it.

"You will stay under control." His fingers barely twitched, and the tension filtered from Bas’ body.

Launay didn’t trust Bas, he trusted his own complete authority.

You will take him back to the isolation unit. And if that is too difficult for you, I will replace you without any further thought to the matter.

Dennis didn’t reply, he just motioned to Bas, careful to keep his face averted. The weight room was tense and still as death as Bas climbed to his feet. He didn’t dare shake the last of the Freeze Protocol from his arms as he carefully maneuvered around the watching Guards. They were on a hair trigger, and they weren’t the only ones. The least excuse could set off the Borgs, then it would be a bloodbath.

And even as capable as the Borgs were, they would be the ones bleeding.

Bas and Dennis hadn’t gone far before the hall grew long and empty, and the weight of what had happened fell on Bas. Isolation. Launay had told Dennis to put Bas back into isolation. The impact of what that actually meant began to seep into his skin.

Eris brushed against his mind, looking for a way into the private terror, but Bas shut the walls around his mind. Her anger and hunger retreated like the Freeze Protocol had moments before.

I wish you hadn’t done that. Dennis’ voice made Bas jump. He had turned down a dead end corridor and now stood, checking the ceilings for cameras with stern eyes.

Bas ignored the echoes of insanity and focused on the older man. Cowl thought he was okay, but Dennis wasn’t supposed to talk to Bas. He wasn’t supposed to…

He’d probably done a lot of things he wasn’t supposed to.

I understand why, or at least I want to. I think what you did was brave. He turned and looked Bas full in the eyes. It’s not that you did something wrong, but there is a lot going on that you might not be able to see. And what you did could have made trouble for a lot of people. For Menrva.

Bas choked on a lungful of air. Right. Not Pope, Menrva. Menrva was the one making the decisions for everyone. And if she had chosen to give Dennis his position, and to let Bas out of isolation despite everything, he could be undermining her position with his stupidity. Maybe it was a good thing he was heading back to isolation.

This was all so much bigger than him. Trying to get a grip on it all made his head pound.

I didn’t… He bit down on the words, wincing in pure reaction. Don’t speak. He’d broken that rule once already today.

Dennis’ face smoothed and he let his shoulders slump. You focus on doing what you can for yourself. Hold it together. You have people fighting on your side, and we will get there eventually.

Bas pressed his lips together to keep his thoughts locked away. Instead, he took a deep breath through his nose, letting it slip back out of his lips, and counting the thud of his pulse in his ears.

I’m really sorry. Dennis’ voice barely pierced the sound of his deep breaths.

Chapter Two: Discovery

Menrva pulled her lab coat again, trying to smooth it out so it didn’t wrinkle around her stomach. It was all she could do not to cross her arms over it, or even just rest a hand on her growing bump. Just a few more feet.

She kept her head low, hoping to blend in. Titan hovered over her shoulder, so close his heat brushed against her elbow. They had made it this far uncontested, but every step she took out of the apartment was a risk. Especially where she was going.

People had already started asking questions. Rumors were spinning.

Normally she would have ignored the talk. It wasn’t the first time she was the focus of gossip. But she didn’t have the luxury of ignorance this time.

The conversations ranged all over the place. Some people just said she was gaining weight on the food they weren’t getting. A fair suspicion. Everyone was hungry and she was locked up in Pope’s apartment getting fatter by the day.

A few people had figured out she was pregnant. Thankfully, her reputation as a loose woman served her well here. Some said it was Cowl’s baby. Some took the approach Leslie would have if she wasn’t dead and claimed it was Pope’s. Others were sure it was Nolan’s. That was probably the claim that made her skin crawl the most.

Not because she hated the idea of a child fathered by her husband, more because it was just twisted. When she was pregnant with Angel, who was Nolan’s child, they all thought she had been sleeping with someone else. Now she was pregnant with Bas’ and they were willing to consider the idea that she and Nolan might have children together.

If people were more open to the truth, her life would have been a lot easier. But it was better this way. Her son was safe.

Menrva.

Dennis stepped up, an eyebrow raised over his dark eye. He studied her, gaze dwelling on her midsection.

Menrva froze with her hand on the door to the med unit. Beside her, Titan was perfectly at ease.

He couldn’t know. But maybe it was more obvious than she thought it was. Can I talk to you?

Menrva pushed her hair from her eyes, wishing she could turn and run. But where? She was trapped with friends, enemies, strangers, all balanced on the edge of oblivion and ready to fall with the right push. Sometimes it felt like she was the only one holding them up.

Dennis had been upset when Menrva didn’t stay loyal to what he had thought was the most important issue: freeing the Borgs. It was a fair complaint. He had a right to get angry. If more people were as angry as he was about what was happening in the Compound, maybe there could have been change.

She wasn’t that lucky, though.

Any questions you have can be given to Launay. He’s the director of the Compound; he can help you. The words were bitter, rolling off her tongue. She couldn’t pause to think about it. Dennis had several charges now, not just Titan. She needed someone she could trust.

Someone she could trust with Bas.

What had happened? Was he getting worse? Was he pacing again? Forgetting things? Dissociating? No, it didn’t matter.

That was a lie. It did matter. Out of everything on her mind right now, it was the only thing that truly mattered. But it didn’t change anything.

I’ll admit, I came about him, and a few other things. Dennis leaned in until his face was only inches away. But now that I’m here I’m more interested in that. He motioned at her stomach.

Shit. Menrva barely managed to keep her hand at her side.

He did know. How did he know?

Swallowing hard, she nodded and pushed open the door. They needed privacy for this. Should she make Titan leave? He probably wouldn’t fully understand. He had no context for pregnancy or children, and no one to talk to about it. Unless…

What do you know? Menrva pressed the lock in place as soon as Dennis had stepped into the exam room. The pale light illuminated the table, medical tools, and the obvious ultrasound machine. Menrva had to make do with everything on her own, but her sparse medical education stretched for now.

You don’t look pregnant. You can’t be far along.

Titan shifted awkwardly by the door. He wasn’t wearing his implants. His choice. After years of not being allowed to wear them, outside of when he was Connected, they weren’t always helpful.

And Dennis wasn’t using signs.

Titan averted his eyes. He really shouldn’t be in here at all. She was going to send him back to the apartment but he was so dogged about protecting her.

It can’t be Bas’ then, right?

Menrva folded her hands over her stomach. How did you know I was pregnant?

Dennis sighed and rubbed a hand over his eyes. Look, if you are, this could be really serious. I want to help.

If you want to help, stay out of it.

Whose is it, Menrva? Dennis reached for her arm.

Menrva jerked back and Titan stepped forward, one arm cradling her as she stumbled over the stool at the base of the exam bed, the other held out to Dennis in warning.

Dennis’ eyes widened a bit and he dropped his hands.

Titan was Dennis’ son.

Slowly, Titan stepped away, his careful gaze embracing each in turn. It’s my fault, he said. I’m sorry. I didn’t understand.

Menrva rubbed her forehead, trying to push away the blooming migraine. She should have seen that coming. She had been hoping Titan was oblivious to what was going on, but he was with her most days for long hours. He had asked to continue being her bodyguard. He wanted to protect her. Of course he would notice the way her body was changing, and why wouldn’t he ask Dennis about it? He wouldn’t know he was supposed to be hiding things.

No. I should have explained things to you. She struggled to find the right signs to help along her words.

Dennis still stared at Titan, horrified. Titan’s shame was clear. He backed away, until his spine nearly hit the wall, eyes lowered.

Why do you have to know whose baby it is? Menrva tried to pull Dennis’ attention from his adopted son.

Dennis cleared his throat. Cowl said you couldn’t get pregnant.

What’s Cowl have to do with it? Menrva didn’t bother hiding the scorn in her voice.

I thought I was just reading into things, until I saw you, Dennis sighed deeply and pursed his lips. Have you told Bas?

Why would I tell Bas?

It’s not his? Dennis met her eyes. It wasn’t a challenge, more of a plea.

A good part of Menrva wished it wasn’t. If they knew Bas had fathered this child, they would tear her infant to pieces to find every hidden secret. So let them believe what they wanted. That she was a slut, like the scars on her neck claimed. That she had slept with Pope to get her position. That she had slept with Nolan or Cowl or all of them. Anything but the truth.

And that’s what Dennis could believe, too.

No. No, it’s not. She gripped the edge of the table, waiting to see how the lie landed.

Dennis turned to the wall, stroking his beard with one hand. His shoulders moved up and down steadily with his breath. His feet shifted.

How far along are you?

How far did she look? She had taken great pains to exercise as slowly and carefully as she could, in an effort to strengthen her core muscles. She wrapped her stomach in tight clothing under her medical jacket, and taped it so that it looked smaller. She had stayed out of public view as much as possible. It wasn’t perfect, and her position as the ‘new Pope’ had saved her more than she cared to say, but eventually she would have a child, and she couldn’t lie about that for long.

Dennis seemed to pick up on her hesitation. Menrva. Is it Bas’?

I’m seven months pregnant. Menrva slid herself onto the table. Dennis had better be as trustworthy as he seemed. If she chose wrong here… Doctors told me I wouldn’t be able to get pregnant after I lost my first.

I didn’t know that… Dennis’ tone had abruptly changed. He knelt on the floor in front of her, hands clasped over his knee.

Cowl and Bas don’t know. No one knows. At least, I haven’t told anyone.

Dennis frowned. I know it’s a very sensitive issue, but don’t you think Bas and Cowl should know? At least Bas.

Menrva straightened. I know what I’m doing. I have a child to protect, after all. A child, and the entire human race. So if you can quit judging me, and keep this to yourself, I would be very appreciative.

Okay. I understand. I just… I don’t think it’s wise.

What’s not wise is choosing to place my child’s safety in the hands of a man with crippling mental injury, and his bull-headed man-child best friend.

I see your point. Dennis grimaced. But you should consider putting a bit more trust in them. Or someone. He stood and straightened his uniform. They are capable of more than you think, and you shouldn’t have to do this alone.

Before Menrva could answer, he walked out the door, only pausing long enough to pat Titan’s shoulder.

It was hard to convince herself she wasn’t as shaky as she felt. She had been so sure no one knew. Now Titan and Dennis, at least, were in on her secret. Dennis seemed trustworthy enough, but it was one thing letting a man watch your back in a battle and a whole different thing giving him the power over your unborn child’s life.

Menrva went through the routines, checking her blood pressure, the baby’s position, and any other relevant data. Not that she would fully know what to do if something was wrong, but thus far she had been lucky. There were a few scares, but nothing too concerning.

Titan had followed Dennis from the room but entered again not long after. He kept his eyes glued on the floor.

In the short time Menrva had known Titan, she had learned one thing: trying to comfort him was a battle. He lived life in his head - with good reason - and he wasn’t easily swayed. He needed time to work through everything on his own before he would try conveying it in words. Menrva had done her best to relieve the guilt. He would work it out in his own time, and come to her with whatever questions he had.

She pulled her coat into place, careful to hide any signs of her swollen belly. With a brief smile at Titan to let him know she was on her way, she pushed open the door.

Immediately she regretted the choice. Just outside, Launay stood with his unique, statuesque stance. Legs spread slightly, arms trapped behind him in the typical ‘at ease’ position that spoke military through and through. Even his face seemed to be at attention.

Launay? Menrva said as Titan fell into his place by her side, his eyes knowingly canvassing her with the worried and confused look that he often wore. What can I help you with?

Launay respectfully inclined his head toward her. Ma’am.

Menrva couldn’t say she was comfortable around Launay. It wasn’t clear just what the man thought of her. He was always courteous, but curt and opaque. It could have been professional submission to authority, or a veneer. Still, she hadn’t been comfortable removing him from his position as overseer of the Compound. Dennis would have been a better fit with her agenda, but sometimes keeping the peace was more important.

It was an exhausting line she had been walking for far too long. There were so many things that had to be changed, so many unjust actions that had happened under Pope and now, under her. The Guards were already distrustful though, and if she kept pushing she would lose them.

Is everything alright? Menrva asked.

As much as can be expected. I saw you enter and wanted to speak with you at some point. I hope you are well. Launay led the way down the hall.

Fine, thank you. Do you have a report?

There has been relative quiet in the lower levels today. Illness, it seems, has silenced the rabble for a while. Launay’s lip trembled in barely veiled disgust. As hard of a man as he was to understand, there was one thing about Launay that was plain: he couldn’t abide disrespect. Unfortunately, we had yet another disturbance with the biobots this morning. It seems there was some dispute between the Guards and some of the more assertive subjects about the use of Generation Six outside the Hub.

Are there not enough of the older Generations left? Menrva glanced sidelong at Launay’s stony face. She should have tried to get more involved with the situation with the Borgs, but it was difficult enough getting out in her condition, even without the possibility of running into Bas. Moving him back into the general population had been a risky move, and a hotly contested one. Maybe it hadn’t been the right decision. For his sanity, yes. No question. But having him among the other Borgs was creating problems.

Not enough if we don’t want to overextend them. The list of things we have to accomplish is long.

Menrva sighed and glanced at Titan, who looked at Launay and the gauntlet on his wrist with more than a little bit of fear.

As frustrating as all this is, it’s nothing new. Menrva stepped into the office she still couldn’t stop thinking of as Pope’s. What is it you needed to talk to me about, then?

I’ve been informed by one of the men that we’ve located a second crash site, this one a bit closer than the first. We haven’t identified which mission it’s from yet. They won’t be able to get more information unless we can get some Biobots out to the site.

Another one of Pope’s exploratory rockets. The trajectories had been surprisingly accurate. Out of the ten that were supposed to have been launched, data showed at least half of them had landed somewhere in the area. Of course, when they said ‘in the area’ they could have been referring to this half of the planet. So far they had only found one other. Like this one, the other was, of course, out of range for the Borgs before. Now that the satellites were up, the signal should reach around the planet.

We have bigger concerns. Menrva tried not to give away her exhaustion. She couldn’t show a weak spot to Launay.

Locating the first probes was always a high priority. Launay was referring to Pope’s plan, not hers.

Menrva glared at him. Maybe we should worry about getting everyone fed and healthy before we scratch that explorative itch, don’t you think?

Launay’s face fell blank, all but for the faint reddish tint emanating from under his starched gray collar. Hmmm.

Typical of Launay, to think about his checklist before the Hub’s more immediate needs. At least she had been able to replace him as Bas’ handler with relatively little argument.

Menrva reached for the desktop to punch in her code when a shout reverberated through the small room. A gray-clad figure leaped from the corner of her eye, sprinting from behind a curve in the hall.

Eat this, skin-loving shit! The Guard shot across the room towards them. Titan jumped forward. His broad shoulders blocked her view as he shoved her backward and into Launay’s chest.

The room lit with gold and red light, ballooning around the inhuman scream of the dying Guard and a deafening boom.

Titan slammed into her, his arms wrapping around both of them and driving them to the floor. Menrva curled up the best she could, her breath snapping in her throat as the weight of the explosion pressed in around them.

A moment later everything fell silent, and Menrva reluctantly inhaled. Titan’s shoulder pressed against her face, head bent over hers.

She had instinctively wrapped her arms over her stomach to save her son, but now skin and the stiff fabric met her searching hands. Launay had gripped her from behind. Under her own hands Launay cradled her pregnant stomach where her son had started violently kicking the wall of her womb.

Pushing herself from the tangle of flesh and fabric, Menrva wrenched around, staring into Launay’s equally shocked visage. His eyes met hers, his face growing pale, but he didn’t remove his hands from her stomach.

If there was one person she didn’t want to know about her pregnancy, it was him. It was too late to worry about that now. What was done was done.

With that thought, Menrva’s mind was yanked violently back to the present. Dust settled around her, reflected against the light shooting through the walls in sharpened shafts.

Shoving Launay aside, Menrva turned her attention to Titan. He lay prone beside her, his arm still thrown wide as if searching for something to shelter. Blood trickled down his forehead. The shirt was torn and burnt on his back, revealing a few quickly swelling burns and a clear glimpse of his bionic spine.

Please tell me you are okay. Menrva shoved his shoulder with one hand. She grasped his arm, pressing her thumb to his wrist. It took a moment before she could calm her own breathing enough to focus on the thumping pulse throbbing beneath the skin.

Thank God.

Launay stood behind her, leaning over awkwardly as she worked to revive Titan. It was hard to ignore him. He was more like a wraith waiting for Titan’s soul than an ally.

I’ll go for help, Launay mumbled. Was he shocked by the terrorism or the pregnancy?

He stumbled out the shredded door, leaving Menrva alone with Titan. Almost as soon as he left, as if he had taken the death with him, Titan stirred and opened his eyes.

Menrva heavily sighed and leaned back on her heels. You’re okay.

Titan blinked at her and raised a hand to rub his ears. Of course, he probably was too jarred to read her lips. I’m glad you are alive, she signed, thankful for the hours of practice she had tucked away.

Titan’s lips pressed into a tight grimace as he pushed himself up on one elbow and turned to look behind him. Menrva followed his gaze, getting a full view of the damage for the first time.

The bomb must not have been professional, because it hadn’t even fully destroyed the man who had carried it. His charred remains lay haphazardly across the desk, oozing blackened blood onto the cracked