Chapter 11

“Oh no, she’s gotten free,” Dumol said from outside the storage locker. The feed from the interior showed the Novian moving around, not staying still.

Probably plotting.

She could plot all she wanted. As long as she behaved when the door opened, then Cadell wasn’t worried about her.

Dumol, however, was not as casual about it. She put her hand on the door, but Luke stopped her.

“Don’t.”

“What? She could get out.”

Luke shook his head. “She won’t.”

“How do you know?”

“She would have done it by now.”

Dumol raised her eyebrow. “You released her,” she said, irritation churning in her voice.

“Taste of freedom,” Luke said.

“How kind. Loosen the leash before you choke her to death.” She paused like she was getting an incoming call.

Luke grimaced and turned to walk toward the farms. He had no logical reason for his actions. Prisoners of war shouldn’t be treated kindly. That’s what all the books said. That’s what his captors had said, wasn’t it?

But was he still at war?

He didn’t know anymore. Some days he was. Others, not so much.

Seeing that girl—Novian or not, didn’t matter at that moment—tied to that chair, it brought up memories that he didn’t want to remember.

Pain he didn’t want to feel anymore.

The kind that knew exactly what it felt like to be tied to that chair.

Dumol had never understood it. One look in her cold eyes and he knew she had never left the Nova Wars battlefields. She would fight until her dying breath.

Would Luke?

He’d thought he would. He’d decimated his enemies, intentionally, or through programs. The result was the same. Dead battlefields. He’d always believed he fought a good fight, but now? He wondered why it was so important.

He’d come here to get off the human world, Raxu, to get away from the poverty and the echoes of war that remained everywhere. Buildings ravaged, landscaped demolished, everything upside down and topsy-turvy.

The fact that Human First had gotten him here a few days early? Easy enough to live with. He had made all his arrangements before he left, anyway.

He would never step outside The Colony again. He knew that. Human First knew that. When the Novians in The Colony knew he was here, they’d make sure he never tasted free air again.

And he was okay with that. He didn’t deserve more.

He glanced back at the storage shed. Dumol was talking to someone through her communicator, but he couldn’t see who. She was agitated.

Pissed even.

He didn’t give a fuck. He tossed a lid on a crate of vegetables for the forest dome commerce center.

If Dumol was upset that he’d released that Novian’s bonds in the storage shed she couldn’t possibly escape from, he was okay with it.

She’d already pissed him off plenty. This whole situation pissed him off plenty.

He hefted the crate onto a modified transport to be taken up for sale to the different food places.

“Hey, boss,” one of the other workers rolled up. He couldn’t remember the Novian’s name. Bregger. Berk. Something. That late fuck. Him. Though he had been on time more since that first day.

Cadell gestured to the transport. “Take these up to the commerce area. Then check the irrigation over in quadrant seven.”

The Novian nodded and headed off.

Luke crossed to a display pad and started accessing the needs of the four farming areas. Regardless if Dumol had plans, he still had work to do.

The farms were mostly automated, as far as the major things, like irrigation and harvesting. However, with all machines, maintenance needed to be kept up on. That’s what Luke did along with his crew of Novians and humans.

The Novians followed orders, and generally didn’t question him very much. He didn’t care if they knew who he was, only that they knew he was in charge of the crew.

So far, they did what he asked without any questions.

They moved from area to area, working on whatever needed done. Each zone, since it was a particular type of farming, required a certain amount of specific work. The aqua zones had to be regularly monitored for buildups of gunk in the water filters, for example, and the arid farms? The opposite—rust and minerals would dry out the equipment.

His teams stayed busy. He had a group now over at the arid farms working on equipment, not to mention another team was out checking things on the alpine farms.

Dumol stomped over to him. “If there’s trouble, it’s on you.”

“Uh huh,” Cadell replied.

“I’ve been authorized to do whatever’s necessary to make sure the mission goes by the numbers.” She glared at him.

“That’s nice,” he said, putting his hands on his hips.

She reached into her pocket.

His arm shot out to his side, no longer under his control. The cybernetic systems kicked alive, shocking him with energy, as his hand snapped up, and saluted her, even his posture going rigid.

Fucking implants...

Through clenched teeth, Cadell growled at her. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

“Whatever. Means. Necessary.” The hold she had over his implant ceased, and he dropped his hand.

“I should—”

She pulled out the controller and held it up. “Do your job, Cadell.” She turned and walked away.

And every part of him wanted to pummel her, for a multitude of reasons—this one just being reason number 4,234,356,156.

Fuck.

He hated her.

Damn.

He glanced back at the storage shed. He should let that Novian go, just to spite her. He crossed back to the displays for the interior of the shed. He unlocked the view and checked the woman out.

She moved around, systematically looking for an escape.

He nodded. Good. She was okay then.

He glanced at the time on the display, and a notification came up, reminding him it was time to check the aqua farm filters.

Well, hell. He’d better go over there.

* * *

He was sore, his back hurt from bending over the filters, but he got the aqua farms check in. He might never get that fish smell off him, but hey.

The food production was in good order. Regardless of the thoughts spinning in his head about the Novian and Dumol, Human First, and all of it, he was able to do the work he needed on the aqua farm as well as others he oversaw.

It seemed the mechanicals of the farms seemed to all be in decent repair. What was happening around him?

That was another story.

He reached the Temperate farming zone and opened the storage shed.

Brought his hand up in time to block the metal shards hurled at him by the Novian.

Probably should have removed the chair before he left.

She’d made good use of her time.

The chair sat in pieces in the center of the room, the legs still bolted to the floor, but the rest in shambles. She was on the far side, mixed in the shadows. The only hint to where she was came from the glint of the shard in her hand that she’d armed herself with.

She’d even dimmed the bright light to a more tolerable level and stuck in the corner to illuminate the room, all except her corner.

She hurled another one at him, like a blade.

He caught it in his hand.

She had a hella good throwing arm and was determined since the chair had been bolted to the floor of the shed.

He’d been that way at first. When he’d been a POW.

Now she was a POW. And he was the one on the other side of the door.

He wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

He raised his eyebrow. This phase would pass soon enough. She’d go to negotiation soon.

“You’re strong,” he said. Like most Novians, he was sure, but he hadn’t expected it. She barely came to his shoulder.

“Release me.” She stood tall like she thought tossing her head back like that would give her some edge over him.

Huh. Interesting idea.

She reminded him of a horse tossing her mane. If she started snorting, well...

She huffed.

Close enough.

Luke sat the pieces on the floor. “No. Behave.”

“No. I will not.” Her gaze darted to the door.

He sighed. He wasn’t in the mood. He still smelled like friggin’ fish.

She ran.

He held out his cybernetic arm and caught her.

She punched his arm, letting out a wild cry.

“Stop it,” he said as he yanked her into him. He guided her away from the door. The door zipped shut behind him, and she started wailing on him.

He shoved her away, but she continued her attack.

Punches and kicks, all well placed.

He, however, knew those forms well and blocked her moves with his own. He stopped her from hurting him, but he didn’t engage. His cyborg arm would rip her apart.

He’d tested it before.

She’d throw a punch, and dart away; then she’d do it again. He’d block, but he’d let her have the hit.

It’s not like it bothered him.

She lunged in, intent on slamming him in the face with her elbow. He caught her before she could, and in the process yanked her against him.

“Are you done?” he asked.

“No. I am not. Why won’t you fight me?”

“You’re wasting your energy.”

“I am not—” She stared into his eyes, her hand pressing against his chest.

He felt it. A hard hit of, well, of something.

He wasn’t exactly sure what it was. But he couldn’t ignore it—it slammed into him like a boulder being dropped on his head. His grip wavered, which was kind sad for a soldier like him. But, in his defense, her attack had paused too.

“You,” she whispered.

“What?” he asked.

“I know you.” She jerked away.

“No, you don’t,” he said, though he felt the same slam of recognition she must have been feeling.

“I do, I know you.” She reached up and touched him. Gingerly, kindly. On his left side, where he was still mostly human.

The recognition sparked again.

For a moment, her eyes glazed over, and she looked like she might fall. He touched her waist, just in time to keep her from stumbling.

Then her senses came back, her face turned ashen, and she pulled away.

“What have I done?” she whispered.

“What?”

“You are my mistake.” She covered her stomach like she was—

Yep. She threw up all over the place.

Fuck.