Omega Games (16 page)

No.
His grip on the chains tightened as the ship spun faster.
If the signal is intercepted by others, they will relay it to Shropana in hopes of collecting the reward for you. He will use it as an excuse to invalidate our contract.
My
family will get nothing.

I was so cold I couldn’t feel my hands or feet, and the darkness crowded in around me, swallowing Oforon and the spinning ship. Something else lay waiting in the shadows, something predatory, watching me with eyes afire.

Wait. I’m sorry. Don’t leave me, Oforon. I don’t want to die alone.

You’re not alone.
The thing in the shadows inched closer.
I’m here. I’m like you. Left for dead. Alone.

“Jarn.” Reever’s voice pulled me out of the dream so suddenly that I sat up with a jerk and a cry. “I am here.” He pulled me into his arms. “You were calling out in your sleep.” I rubbed my eyes and nestled against him. “I was having a nightmare.” As the distressing images from the

dream faded away, my heartbeat returned to its normal rhythm. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

To hear the name said aloud made fear and sweat crawl all over on my skin. I forced myself to think calmly. “It is the name of the male in my dream. We were on a ship together. I think I was his prisoner.” I grimaced to hear myself speaking as if it had been real. “It was only a bad dream.”

“Perhaps.” Reever watched me closely. “Tell me what you remember about the male from the dream, and where you were.”

“He was not Terran. Hair covered his face.” I gestured over my own. “I was in chains and very cold. The ship we were on was spinning, out of control.” I grimaced as pain lanced through my thoughts. “You should have warned me how much your memories of Cherijo would hurt my head.”

“I did not give you that memory,” Reever said quietly. “I have never heard this until now.” He hesitated before adding, “It must have happened when they were transporting you to Akkabarr. The ship you were on crashed on the surface.”

“That can’t be,” I said. “You were not with her then. How could I recall something you did not . . . ?” A flood of realization and anguish silenced me.

The dream, not a dream but a memory. One of Cherijo’s.

Reever cupped my face between his hands. “Don’t be afraid, beloved. Whatever comes back to you, it will not change who you are. Cherijo died on Akkabarr.”

“As you say, Husband.” I thrust myself away from him and grabbed my garments. “I will make a meal for us. I wish we were at Mercy House. She has idleberry tea.”

I dressed and went out to the food prep unit, where I dialed up tea. I knew Reever wanted to talk about what had happened, but I had had enough of Cherijo and the past for one morning.

The door panel chimed, and Reever rose and went to answer it. Drefan’s Chakacat came in with a tray of bread that had been twisted into fancy shapes.

“Drefan sends these with his compliments.” It set the bread down on the table. “After you have had your meal, the games master requests that Reever join him in the drone bay.”

I exchanged a look with my husband. “For what purpose?”

“Yesterday your husband observed that Tya’s drednoc opponent lacked proper arena programming, ” the Chakacat said. “Drefan wishes to review the current battle algorithms with your husband and learn how they can be improved.”

Reever nodded. “I will look at them.”

I felt impatient. “Maybe we should charge him a consultation fee.”

Keel remained behind after Reever left. At first I thought it meant to clear up the remnants of our meal, as it had the night before, until it spoke. “Doctor, Drefan wishes me to ask if you will look at some remains that were found outside the dome last night.”

“You recovered a body?”

“Not exactly.” Keel coughed, and for a moment looked as if it might regurgitate something. “The drone found only some skin.”

Keel’s whiskers twitched. “From the scales, it appearsto be Tingalean. From the amount we recovered, I think it must be all of its skin.”

My appetite faded. “Someone skinned it? That would be fatal. Where is the rest of the body?”

“I cannot say.” Keel avoided my gaze. “I think that is what Drefan wishes to learn. If you can tell that from the condition of what remains, that is.”

I retrieved my medical case. “Take me to it.”

Keel led me through the labyrinth of corridors to an area guarded by several drones like those that had pursued Reever yesterday. Both the Chakacat and I were scanned before we were permitted access to the room where the skin had been taken.

“Does Drefan believe someone will steal the remains? ” I asked as we walked into a large, well-equipped laboratory.

“No.” Keel did not expand on that reply, but brought me to a low-temperature storage unit. Inside sat a large sealed disposal container with a clear plas lid.

I peered in and studied the mound of derma, which was blackened and partially liquefied. I thought it might have been burned, until I scanned the container. “This can’t belong to the Tingalean that attacked me yesterday. The decomposition is too far advanced. Unless . . .” I glanced over my shoulder. “Can you quarantine this room?”

“Drefan had a containment generator installed last night.” Keel pointed to one of the consoles. “The center work table can be isolated within an energy shroud.”

I lifted the container, which weighed more than I expected. “After I move this over there, initialize the field.”

The Chakacat did as I asked. Once the bioelectric curtain buzzed into place around me, preventing any microorganisms from entering or leaving the space, I pulled on a mask and gloves and opened the container. Sickening odor instantly filled the contained area.

“Next time, genius,” I muttered to myself, blinking away reflex tears, “wear a breather.”

I slowly tipped the container over to place the contents on the table. Despite my care, the derma slid out and landed with a plop, spattering the front of my garments with greenish black fluid. I first scanned for cellular defects, but found no evidence of disease or contagion. I took a probe from my case and began lifting and smoothing out the crumpled skin.

“The derma looks to be intact.” I walked around the table to work on the other side.

“Does that have some significance?” Keel asked.

“It means that it was not removed from the victim in sections, but all at once.” I measured the hide’s thickness and carefully rolled it over and flattened it to inspect the underside. “I cannot find any blade, pulse, sonic, or other weapon marks to indicate precisely what was used for the removal.”

“Doubtful. The skin would be burned, and it would slough off the victim in flakes and peels.” I pulled down an emitter arm and peered closely at the holes. “I cannot see any puckers or stretch marks. It is not inside out. It was not fieldstripped.”

Keel came to stand by the curtain. “How am I to define ‘fieldstripped’ to Drefan?”

“Watch.” I turned and held up one of my hands. “Imagine my glove is derma, my hand the body it covers, and the opening at my wrist a mouth or eye.” I took hold of the edge of my glove and peeled it backward, removing it from my hand until it hung, inside out, from my other fingers. “Large carcasses with thicker skin require more effort, of course.”

Keel gave me a strange look. “That is all it takes to skin a body?”

“If the game’s skin is thin and flexible enough, it can be done immediately after a kill,” I said, putting on a fresh pair of gloves. “Otherwise, the carcass is parboiled first, to loosen the hide, and then stripped.” I saw the Chakacat’s throat move, and belatedly realized that I had been too candid. “I should not have described it so graphically. I beg your pardon, Keel.”

It looked from me to the remains and back again. “How do you know of such things?”

“We had to hunt our food on my homeworld. I know most ensleg societies do not,” I added quickly. “Akkabarr is an ice world, upon which nothing grows. The Iisleg were left to die there, and had to become hunters or starve.”

It nodded at the table. “Do you think something ate the insides of that?”

I saw no tooth or claw marks, or other signs that the skin had been ripped away from the flesh by something feeding. Rather than offering such details, which would upset the feline again, I merely said, “It does not seem likely.”

I performed several other scans before completing my examination. “The only other thing I can tell you at this point is that this is not the Tingalean who attacked me. This individual died four to seven days ago.”

“Could it have molted?”

“This is not simply a shed layer of hide. This is all of this person’s skin.” I made a circling gesture over the remains. “All three layers are here. I know of no species that molts to such an extreme degree.”

After I replaced the remains in the container and sealed it, Keel shut down the field and allowed me to cleanse. I took advantage of the Chakacat’s distressed state to help myself to some of the medical supplies, which I quickly concealed under my garments.

“I would like to begin the medical exams as soon as possible,” I told Keel as we left the lab.

“I will speak to Drefan about it,” the Chakacat said.

I followed the feline back to the rooms the games master had given us, and found them empty. It promised that Reever would join me shortly and left me there.

I used the next hour on the room terminal, pulling up all the dermatological information the colonial database had available on the Tingaleans and skimming through it, looking for a medical condition to explain the state of the remains. I found no accidental injury, illness, or disease that correlated with my “Something had to remove the hide perfectly, in one piece.” I searched in one of the console bins and found a datapad, which I used to create a chart and an autopsy report. I had just finished transferring the data from my scanner to the pad when Reever walked in. The filthy condition of his clothes, face, and hands made me drop what I was doing and hurry over to him.

“You did not fight that Hsktskt, did you?” I demanded as I searched for blood and other signs of injury.

“Not yet,” he said, catching my hands to stop me. “I’m fine. I took apart one of the drednocs that were disabled by the Tingalean, to see if I could retrieve its sensor recordings. Unfortunately, the laser melted the command core where they are stored.”

I needed to pass some things to him without Drefan seeing it on his monitors. There was only one place in the room where I could do that.

“You and your garments need a wash,” I said, giving his arm a playful tug. “Come and I’ll do both.”

When I tried to pull him into the cleanser full-clothed, Reever resisted, until I looked past him at one of the monitors and then into the cleanser. He understood and followed me inside the small chamber.

“Drefan could not put a recording drone in here,” I said as I produced one of the slim utility knives I had taken from the lab. “The sonics would disrupt the feed. So we can do as we please, with no one watching.”

Reever nodded. “What did you have in mind?”

“Many things.” I inserted the tip of the blade under the edge of his tunic. “You are wearing too many clothes.” With one smooth incision, I sliced open the front of his tunic.

My husband’s eyes darkened as he braced his hands against the unit’s walls. “And after you remove my garments? What will you do?”

“Something will come to mind, I’m sure.” I slit both sleeves from wrist to shoulder to show him how sharp the blade was. “Perhaps you have some specific thoughts on the matter.”

“I may.” He bent his head and put his mouth on mine, initiating a link at the same time.
Why are you playacting like this?

Drefan’s monitors can’t watch us in here, but the unit is not soundproof. They can still pick up our voices.

He nodded.
How many blades did you take?

Five, including this one.
As I cut through the waist fastener of his trousers with one hand, I used the other to strip off my tunic.
Two in the right pocket, one in the left. One in my right boot.

Out loud I said, “I love how you touch me. Your hands are like water, all over me, everywhere.”