Vin's Rules (Outer Settlement Agency) (2 page)

“You’re smiling.”

“It’s the knowing and sardonic smile when you see someone about to fall on their face. My report on your behavior will be long and thorough.”

“Wow. Okay, you know what? I’ll take it,” he said rising and drawing her up with him. He dropped her hands too, but it didn’t stop the heat from his body from flowing into her own.

She ignored it.

Had to.

What she couldn’t ignore were his reddening eyes and swollen nostrils.

Allergies?

She’d only heard of them in training. Almost no one had them, least of all an OSA security chief. Unless...

He wiped his nose on his sleeve and knuckled his eyes.

Unless Vin was a Kin-humanoid. Products of too much gene manipulation and cloning, they had well known sensitivities.

But surely, he couldn’t be. Kin-humanoids had a tendency to look alike. But his face was angular, rather than soft. He was tall, and his ears weren’t too much different than...

“Are you clone-checking me?”

“No!”

He stepped to her toe to toe, his finger jabbing into her chest. “Because you don’t look like an Ert’zod, lady. You’re a little too dark, and your hair’s kinda kinky for that. Unless your Mama stepped out for a little—”

Her hand cracked his cheek. “I’m adopted. That matters crap all when it comes to family. Genetics has nothing to do with it.”

Vin smirked and eased back. “I know that. Do you have a problem with me being a clone?”

“No, but I’d appreciate if you didn’t use the c-word. Do you have a problem with it?”

He rocked on his heels and crossed his arms. The man’s smirk morphed into an outright grin. “Nope. How long have you been wondering?”

“About as long as you’ve been wondering about my skin color. Can we get back to the actual problem we have? The fuel core—we can’t fix it here. We should fly back and—”

But Vin waved that away. “Nah. That’ll take too long. Plus, it’s an unnecessary expense— and doesn’t OSA love to save money? I’m sure that’s in your files somewhere. Look, we’ll share the other rover. Unless you’re not professional enough to ride a vibrating machine with... I’ll stop.”

“That’s wise.”

“Because you have that look on your face.”

She popped one fist on her elbow and cocked her head to the side. A finger swirled around her face. “And what does this look say?”

“I don’t know
exactly
, but as I’d like to keep my testicles attached, I’ll keep my mouth shut.”

“You’re learning, Dhoma.”

“It’s possible. So then, shall we investigate?”

Minutes later, she was on the back of the vehicle with her arms firmly locked around his waist. There had been a minor scrambling over who got to drive, but as he’d been annoyingly pleased to point out, Vin was the one with the most senior objective.

And the one best able to handle any oncoming threat. He punched in the coordinates to the center of town, and off they went.

Even that small task he managed to do with flair—including a waved hand and a wink tossed over his shoulder.

The guy never let up. Whatever. She turned to focus on the world before them and not the man in her arms.

The cyclerover’s enviroshield provided a barrier between them and the rushing landscape outside it. This place was lovely—some of the best terraforming she’d seen. Trees reached up to the sky, and the grass bobbled to and fro.

Every so often, something marred their beauty. A patch of white. A fungus, perhaps? Those were few and far between, though, and instead she focused on the vibrant people-sized flowers that waved as they passed.

The cyclerover weaved and dodged massive tree trunks for an eternity before the forest gave way to open fields.

Vin’s words came back clear and crisp in the enviroshield. “That’s not good.”

“I think it’s beautiful. Do you see something strange?”

“Same thing you see, Ert’zod. Fields. Only they ought to be full, according to the data specs.”

“Maybe there was a contamination or something.”

The cyclerover slowed at Vin’s command, and he turned left for a better look. He pointed to the brown, nearly black soil. “That dirt’s rich with nutrients. You don’t need to do a soil sample to see it. What you don’t see are machine tracks. Over there, everything’s overgrown. Check that. It’s grew and rotted on the vine. It’s going to waste. Something’s wrong here.”

His body tensed beneath her hands, and a small sliver of unease zagged through her body.

“You’re quiet back there, Ert’zod. Maybe it’ll be better if I take you back to the shuttle. I’ll go on ahead, and you can call in backup. Not saying we’ll need it but, I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

“That sounds oddly mature for you.”

He turned with twisted lips and his eyes narrowed. On someone less handsome, it may have been threatening. “Don’t forget my job, Ert’zod. I keep people safe for a living. You equate attitude with ability. Thinking like that’ll get you killed one day.”

“I judge what I see.”

“Then look at my record.”

“Infraction after infraction after—”

“Let me help you out. I repeat, my job is to keep people safe. Find one time when I haven’t and I’ll fucking resign right now.”

She knew he was right. Everything about him agreed on three traits: irreverent, flirtatious, and, well, reliable. He avoided all rules save one, his prime directive of keeping the men and women under his watch safe. Apparently, that now included her.

“I’m taking you back to the shuttle.”

“You don’t think I’m scared, do you? Whatever you’ve read about the Ert’zod family, about what percentage of it involves running from danger?”

“Zilch, but if you ever feel uneasy...”

“Drive.”

“Yes, ma’am and thanks.”

“For what?”

“For making me officially reconsider my earlier assessment. You may have some Ert’zod in you yet.”

“Just go.”

Soon abandoned homes replaced the fields and even later, a town completely devoid of any signs of life. She expected, heck, wanted, Vin to say something casual and amusing, but a heavy sense of dread cloaked the air.

Her skin prickled, and she licked her lips, now dry and parched. The emptiness here was oppressive. She’d been born on a small space station but spent her youth traveling from place to place with her father. Then she’d gone off to school in a huge city in a mega quadrant, before being sent off to make her life in similar environs.

This place?

Silent.

Empty.

A heavy type of quiet.

She craved the thudding noises and howls of urban life. Everything was suddenly too small. She needed air. Fresh air. Not the filtered and recycled stuff they’d been breathing on the cyclerover. “I don’t like this place.”

“No kidding. So think. Think fast. What do we know? What can we put together from everything we’ve seen so far?

“No food source. No town. No people.”

“We don’t know that.”

She licked her lips for the dozenth time. “Whatever, just open the enviroshield. I need out.”

“Umm, no.”

“Shield. Down. Now. What happened to living on the edge, Dhoma?”

He shrugged at her rolled eyes. “I don’t know? Overwhelming evidence of mass extinction? That’s enough for most people. What happened to your freaking regulations?”

Tossed to rot at the throat-closing sensation of the last few minutes. She’d rather die than tell him that though. “It’s like you said. We need to think. Investigate. You’re armed. I’m armed. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“You seriously did not just ask that.” Vin pointed to an empty terrarover. Then an empty house. Next, the empty street and the entire row of empty stores. “That. Whatever that is. That can happen. Has happened. Might happen again.”

And yet, her hair was caught in a whoosh of air as the shield around them went down. Before she could thank him for trusting her, he swore and got off the vehicle. “Fine, but only because I care about my people. I’m not calling my team into a fire pit without giving them a heads up first. We’ll do some quick recon and then get out of here. Maybe we can find out what the hell that scent is.”

She didn’t bother with the non-intentioned... and not totally existent slight. “What scent?”

“The same one from the forest. Still not smelling it?” He shrugged at her shaking head and stomped over to the nearest building. Broken glass crunched beneath his boots, and he waved her over. “I need some light over here. Hold up your omnitablet.”

Despite the bright day and the blinding reflections from the empty glass buildings, inside this smaller one, darkness won out. She leaned into the building, but a hairy, muscled arm jerked her back. “Don’t cut yourself.”

The advice was so unnecessary. Blood wasn’t her thing. Her stomach rolled at the thought of it. Rather than bracing herself against the windowpane, she used him for balance.

For all her nervousness, he didn’t shrug her off or laugh. In fact, Vin gave no outward appearance that he’d noticed her body on his at all. “Sweep the light around... yeah, like that.”

Nothing unusual. Most things were in place. Some tables were turned over, but the chairs were still stacked on the side. Although that in and of itself was more concerning. “Dhoma—”

“I’m begging you for first names now. Shit storms kinda require it. Or do you not agree with my coarse assessment?”

“We stand in a whirlwind of fecal matter, yes.”

His chest rumbled with low laughter, and he cracked his neck. “Weird, ain’t it? No one left in a hurry. There aren’t any scattered remains or half-eaten food bits.”

“Chairs are stacked on the side,” she added. “If we get to the next building over and find the same thing, that all but guarantees that these people left on their own accord.”

He
tsk-tsked
her. “Remember, we only know things we see with our own eyes. We know they abandoned this place. We know the leaving was planned. There’s nothing here to assure us that it was willing. Hey, look up there in the corner. What’s that?”

A pearly sheet twinkled against the artificial light of her omnitablet. It draped from the ceiling, creeping toward the metallic floor like an upturned and clawed hand. She took a picture, not at all sure what she’d captured. Their heads knocked together as they viewed the image. “What do you make of it, Vin?”

While he studied the picture, she stepped back and crossed her arms, running hands down her prickling arms. Odd wasn’t the word. Yet, she tried to stay logical and ignore the feeling of dread that ran like ice down her back. “We’re getting ahead of ourselves. Like you said, we don’t know anything until we see it. Maybe we’ll walk across the street and find we’re completely wrong.”

They were completely right.

At least, right in that some generally screwed-up crap had gone down. Every building was the same. Perfect. Neat. Orderly. Chairs to the side with most tables upright.

That didn’t mesh well with the broken windows...

...or the gleaming samite sheets that adorned some of the ceilings.

They’d reached the end of the block and she stepped into the road to cross the street. Vin caught her by the collar and gently pulled back. “I don’t think we need to get any farther away from the cyclerover. I’m not saying I’m scared, but...”

His voice had the joking lilt to it again, but this place seemed to suck a little of the honesty right out of it.  Something had shaken him. Her father called it an agent’s sixth sense—feeling danger before it reared its head.

Vin backtracked to their machine, but she kept catching him looking over his shoulder. He helped her onto the cyclerover then nudged her forward to the driver’s seat.

“What’s this?”

“Are you as good as driving these as fixing them, Allie?”

“The best.”

He took out his weapon and checked the charge. “If something goes down, I need my hands free.”

“That sounds like we’re not going back yet.”

He raised his arm, pointing over her shoulder. The road bent ahead, hooking to the left. “We’ve gotta know what’s around that corner. Back us in. Keep facing outward. If anything goes sideways, gun us out of here.”

Allie eased the cyclerover into reverse, her eyes scanning ahead of her the whole time. She checked the rearview mirrors too.

Vin had two weapons now, one in each hand. His jaw was so clenched it could cut wire.

Then he swore a little.

Then a lot.

A whole lot.

A second later, she’d backed up enough to see the reasoning of his flowery language and was compelled to agree. “Fuck.”

“My sentiments exactly, Allie.”

Down the end of another long street was a stockade of sorts. Steel plates separated the rest of the town from... well... whatever that big edifice was. “What kind of—”

“Judging from the very angry men on the roof with their weapons pointed at us, I’m gonna say it’s a fort.”

“Time to go.” She fussed with the controls and plotted a course back the way they came.

Vin’s hand pulsed on her shoulder. “No point. We’re in range, and good money says they knew about us before we knew about them. Remember the coordinates, then delete them. Now, Allie. Do it now,” he whispered.

“But—”

“Don’t worry. I’ll keep you safe.”

“You’d better. Pretty sure my death is against regulation.”

And triple damn her, but his laughter almost made it better.

U
nless Vin was crazy, their captors looked as surprised to see them as he and Allie were to “find” them.

The men carried guns. No big deal, really. But they also carried sticks. Batons, he thought they were called. No one had used those since the old days—back when Earth wasn’t the wasteland of the Milky Way.

Life in the modern universe didn’t require such tools of force. Even the most basic gun had a stun setting. And for riot control, the larger ones fanned out an electrical charge for several lengths.

Simply put, you don’t carry around batons for control.

You carry them to instill fear.

They all dressed the same, brown flowing linens and reflective sunglasses. No markings of rank. Yet one of them, faced marked and pitted with scars, stepped forward. “Weapons on the ground, nice and easy. Good. Good. Now then, who are you? How did you make it here?”