CHAPTER 20

Artemis

T he metallic scent of blood was a typical partner to the smell of disinfectant and body odour. It filled my nostrils sharply, reaching inside my head to start pounding on my sinuses like it was trapped and trying to escape through my eyeballs. I was used to the sensation. My time in the lab was up, but they had left me to rest before moving me today, in case doing so caused an adverse reaction.

I didn’t know what they had done to me. It always happened the same way. I would find out later when the results of their experiments showed themselves, but for now I was simply waiting for my body to knit itself back together.

That process was even more difficult on days like these, because it wasn’t the usual healing process. They had to reprogram the nanites they had injected me with as a small child not to attack the foreign body in case they destroyed the scientist’s work, and then my body had to learn how to heal around the new implant they had grafted into my very bones.

I tried to stop thinking about the pain. The stinging of the blade when it first cut through my skin, and then the burning as it carved through muscle and tendons. I wasn’t unfamiliar with the sensation having experienced it countless times over my short life, but this time was different. This time they had buried something so deep inside of me that there was no possibility of escape. They had changed the very structure of my biology to accommodate for their ideas, and it hurt.

The nurses clustered into a corner of the room, gossiping about something I was too depleted to hear. The scientists had already left, leaving the nurses to wait out my healing period, and then they would tranquilise me for the guards to carry me back to my room.

It was more like a cell than a room, this place a prison of torture and misery, but I was looking forward to seeing the guard on Artemis duty today. He called me A, and though the bottom half of his face was covered by the gas mask all the guards wore, his eyes always shone with a gentle kindness. I especially enjoyed when they crinkled in the corners with little wrinkles, the only part of his smile I was able to see.

I didn’t know his name. He told me to call him T, and it had since become my favourite letter in all the alphabets. I assumed it stood for Tornu because that’s what he was. Tall and broad, his muscles felt incredible against my body when he would lift me to carry me back, the way they tensed and undulated under his skin, hard and then soft, and then hard again.

It was the closest I had ever felt to a male; to what it would feel like to be intimate with one. Sometimes I would even take the risk to stroke down the spikes that ran along his forearms or, if I was feeling particularly courageous, the ones on his head. And he let me. One of my favourite memories was the time I had accidentally pricked my finger on the sharp, pointed tip of one on the back of his neck. A small drop of blood beaded on my skin, and he had leant forward to lick it off, sucking the digit gently into his mouth before releasing me with a deep, vibrating groan.

It was the single most erotic moment of my life, one that I held close and cherished.

But when he came in to pick me up this time, his kind face was twisted into a sneer, his eyes cold and hard and lifeless. He glared down at me as if I were a nuisance and he wanted to be anywhere but here. Anywhere but near me. I didn’t understand…

‘You’re on your own,’ his low, velvety voice spoke, but there was a maliciousness to it I had never witnessed before. ‘I won’t be helping you anymore. It’s time for you to go.’

And then he flipped the table I was lying on, still strapped to it, swung me around and hurled me as hard as he could. I soared through the air towards the door, but instead of crashing into it I slipped right though and kept going. And going… And going…

?? ?

My internal alarm blared inside my mind. It wasn’t exactly a noise, more like a sense that fully awoke my mind and my body at the same time. One moment I was fitfully sleeping, the remnants of my dream echoing throughout my mind in a last-ditch effort to be heard before they disappeared, and the next I was wide awake.

And trapped.

I panicked, my memories converging into the present to enforce the idea that I was strapped to that fucking metal slab. Except, I wasn’t lying on a cool, hard surface, and it wasn’t my wrists, ankles and throat bound. Instead, there was something long and warm covering both my torso and my legs, attached to something larger and even warmer at my back. And something was persistently stabbing into my rear.

And then it moved. I stayed completely still. Lower and lower it stroked against my skin, and it was remarkably pleasant. Too pleasant.

Bromm.

I’d fallen asleep holding his hand last night, and woke up this morning with him practically soldered to my back and his fingers creeping just under the waistband of my underwear…

His hips ground into mine from behind, his hardness thick and present and searching. And oh, my stars, did it feel good .

Goosebumps erupted over my skin as his fingertips dragged gentle circles just above my groin, inching further and further under the fabric covering my lower half. His hot breaths puffed over the back of my head, ruffling my hair, which was how I noticed when they hitched. He gripped my hip, pulling me closer to rub himself against me, a low groan emanating from deep in his chest.

‘Arty…’ he breathed my name, low and sensual and full of need.

I meant to tell him to stop. I really did, but all that came out was a whimper that mirrored that need, and it was as if whatever had been stopping him from pushing further crumbled to ash.

One minute I was lying on my side, embraced by him from behind. The next, I was on my back, gazing up at face full of tentacles that I could no longer bring myself to find disturbing. They grew from beneath low-lidded eyes burning with desire, and they gently stroked and suckled at a sweet spot I never knew existed on my neck. Sweet, gentle, and surprisingly sensual.

For the first time in my life, I moaned in pleasure.

And then his lips were on mine. Pressing, tempting, tasting; obliterating my every thought and overwhelming my senses.

His hips lowered to mine and he began to grind our bodies together, and for a moment I let him. Until my brain suddenly rebooted and reminded me that he was expecting to find something that wasn’t there.

In a flash, I had him flipped and pinned beneath me, but my brain short-circuited when he let out a long, deep, resounding groan. The sound did things to my body I hadn’t known it was capable of doing. He reached for me, his hands seeking my skin under the shirt and trying to pull me back down on top of him.

But I couldn’t.

I glared down at him, his own stare beckoning, his plump purple lips begging for another taste, the feel of his body writhing below mine creating a friction everywhere except where I wanted it.

Where I couldn’t have it.

I took a deep, steadying breath and pushed him further into the mattress, my forearm on his throat suddenly blocking the passage of his heaving breaths.

It had the opposite reaction to what I had expected, however, making this even more difficult. Instead of the fear he should have felt from the danger I posed – because make no mistake, I was deadly – he let out a sound that was positively primal , sinking into the mattress like the good boy that he was.

Woah. Where did that thought come from?

I couldn’t give him what he wanted, though, so I spoke in my deadliest voice. ‘Don’t ever do that again.’

His eyes searched mine, then shuttered when he saw how serious I was. Where a moment ago they were brimming with lust, now they were just as hard and cold as mine, though I swore I saw a glimpse of hurt before he shut it down.

I released him after he nodded his acceptance – as much as he could move his head with my arm blocking his chin. Then I backed up and walked away.

I wanted to look back. I wanted to turn around and go right back to what we were doing, but nothing had changed. It was still too dangerous for the both of us, and I wasn’t willing to put him or my mission at risk just to get laid. I also didn’t want to face his disappointment in me when he realised what I was hiding under my uniform. Nor did I wish to face my own trauma about sex. Letting someone in like that… it would never be in the cards for me. Not after…

That didn’t stop the pang of longing and the stab of regret from bowling me over when the bathroom door shut behind me, though.

My breaths came in harsh, shallow pants. I clawed at my chest the pain almost unbearable. My core still throbbed with want, protesting the lack of something to clench around. And I let myself have a moment to break down.

The shower washed away any evidence of my emotions, taking with it the tracks down my cheeks from my tears and the sensation of Bromm’s touch. I missed it already, missed him , because I knew I had irreparably destroyed any friendship we could have had, let alone anything more.

It’s for the best , I reminded myself, turning it into a mantra.

It’s for the best. It’s for the best. It’s for the best.

How I wished I believed it .

When I stepped out and realised I had no clothes, I resigned to putting back on my rumpled and sex-scented sleepwear and hopefully sneak back into the bathroom to change before anyone else roused. I wasn’t so lucky.

There were sounds from the other bedroom that proved I wasn’t the only one up, but it was the sight of Bromm standing, waiting, on the other side of the door that pulled me up short.

He handed a pile of clothes – my clothes – and sent me a tentative smile.

Why was he being nice to me?

Regardless, I accepted the clothes and ducked back inside the bathroom. When I exited, he was still outside, and though he didn’t touch me I could tell he wanted to by the way his hand twitched towards me. I dodged it, though, and he didn’t lift it any further. Instead, I gave me another small, sad smile that still flashed with an underlying heat before the door closed behind him and the sound of the shower filtered through.

A moment later, the telltale grunts of him pleasuring himself drifted through the door, sounds that had tormented me every morning since we’d arrived on this ship, and I almost tripped over my own two feet in my rush to get away.

I plopped down on the couch in the communal living space and waited, back straight, hands neatly folded on my lap, and gaze unseeing as I stared at a random spot on the wall.

The others startled trickling through, taking turns in the bathroom before getting dressed for the day and joining me in the living room to wait for the breakfast delivery. It didn’t take long. Cadmus was in the bathroom when it arrived with none other than Addy and the captain, though the man from before that given me a bad vibe was backing away with a wave towards them. I wanted to sate my curiosity about the relationship between the two of them, and now with that man, but after recent events decided against it.

It would be better for me if I stopped caring about these people on a personal level. I couldn’t have them, and they didn’t understand what it would mean to have me.

I cursed the stars for how unfair this whole thing was. I escaped the worst place in the entirety of the combined galaxies, only to find I still wasn’t free. I wondered if I would ever know true freedom. What was I fighting for if I could never achieve it?

Was it even something worth achieving?

I didn’t have those answers because I’d never experienced it for myself. Though I’d been ‘free’ before my time being stuck with needles and cut open at the behest of sick-minded scientists, I had no memories of it. And I wasn’t sure I wanted them. All I’d ever been able to uncover about my past was that I’d been a terminally ill orphan that my guardians sold to The Program for a whopping sum of ten thousand credits.

I still hadn’t figured out how to feel about that price tag defining my worth as a person. To them, I had been nothing more than a test subject. The one person who had seen me as something more I had lost. I wouldn’t, no, couldn’t put anyone else through that level of suffering.

Reaffirming my stance, I maintained my aloof demeanour even as Addy attempted to sit on my lap again while we ate. I merely shifted my legs out of the way so she was forced to sit beside me rather than on top of me. I hoped that keeping an emotional distance from the person who knew one of my secrets wouldn’t end up badly for me, but it was yet another reason to do what I came here to do and leave as soon as I could.

???

We switched things up in combat training this morning. Instead of weight training, we were with the Griknot instructor running lap after lap. It felt nice to revert into myself as I ran. It was a simple exercise that afforded me the luxury of blocking everyone else out and focusing only on my next breath, my next step. Pushing forward and going further was all that mattered, and my mind was blissfully empty for the duration of the class.

Lunch was a little more tricky. The worry and concern I felt from the others was becoming stifling. After the fifth time Reece asked if I was okay, and how many times Addy checked in with me throughout the meal, I was beginning to realise how annoying having people care about you could be.

I wasn’t used to it, and I didn’t know what to do with it.

I also didn’t deserve it.

I kept trying to force down the irritation that arose every time they showed me they cared, and that was giving me something else to focus on. I adjusted that irritation to aim it at myself for even letting things get as far as they had. No one was supposed to noticed me enough to care, but I had failed myself and my mission by lowering my shield, even if only a tiny bit, it was still too much.

My emotions were becoming dangerously overwhelming, my self-depravation digging its claws into me deeply enough that it started to feel like the truth. And perhaps it was. I was a failure. I was going to get caught. I wasn’t ever going to be good enough, or skilled enough to save Libby.

I was worthless, useless, pathetic…

No . I couldn’t let those thoughts win. I doubled down on my efforts to push them aside and focus on what needed to be done. I would turn those negative concepts into self-fulfilling prophecies if I continued to listen to them. Instead, I brought up the coping techniques Libby and I had learned together to ground us in the present. Deep breaths, find three things I could see, three things I could hear, and three things I could touch. More deep breaths. Some positive affirmations. A couple more deep breaths…

When I came out of the fog of despair I realised I had been moving on autopilot and we had just entered a classroom.

The second class of the day was Strategy. Unlike the other classes or assignments, and despite how we were still grouped together in our teams, there was a separation in this class that I was pleased about. We sat at individual desks, large enough to contain multiple maps both in physical and holographic forms, and we were spread out enough that there would be no overlap or confusion.

We were also required to perform the tasks assigned to us as individuals rather than teams. The instructor informed us that there would be two assessments, one as an individual to determine our personal knowledge of the subject, and the second would be completed as a team. The latter would take the longest to complete, for we were going to have to take turns in each role.

Unfortunately for me, I had already downloaded all kinds of strategy information prior to my enrolment at Nova, so I wasn’t learning anything new today. I had already implemented and tested my covert strategies in real scenarios, my current mission included. So in all honesty, I had nothing to do except tune out the instructor and sit there, drowning in boredom and wishing to utilise that knowledge in my active operation.

Actually, I could do just that.

I had about three more turns until we were dismissed for the evening meal, and the instructor was spending the lesson lecturing. My participation was not a requirement for today. So, I decided to do something I usually only dared to do in the quiet of the night where no one could see.

I raised my hand, and the instructor called upon me. ‘Do you have a question?’

‘No, sir. I just need to use the restroom,’ I told him.

He pursed his lips in irritation but agreed to let me go. I rushed from the room, ignoring the curious looks from the other cadets as I left. It didn’t take long to reach the restrooms, and I was pleased that all the stalls appeared to be empty. I picked the one furthest away, ensured the door was locked behind me, and settled myself on the toilet. It wasn’t comfortable, but it would do in a pinch.

Then I touched a single finger to the holo-tab attached to my belt and gave a mental push.

Though I could still see and interact with my surroundings, information began to flood my brain. Files of information branched into different pathways along a glowing web of interconnected data. I closed my eyes to ensure the telltale blue under-glow wouldn’t be so noticeable if anyone happened to enter the restrooms and glance between the cracks, then began skimming the different files, quickly dismissing anything that didn’t pertain to what I was searching for and skipping the branches through which I had already thoroughly searched.

When I had been doing that for quite some time and still getting nowhere, I decided to switch things up. I had avoided this for the sole reason that it used up a lot more energy than simply skimming and reading, and it would affect me until I could get some rest. I might even have to skip the evening meal in favour of going to bed early, but there wouldn’t be a better time to do this that now.

I had to take the opportunities as they presented themselves.

Three of the lines lit up brighter than the others, and I knew those were the branches to follow to get the information for which I was searching. How relevant that data was would have to be determined once I had access to it I picked one at random and drifted down the line. While some contained only one destination, others continued on with multiple. Those were the files within files within files, and typically meant I would need a password or something of the sort to access them. I could bypass the lock given enough time, but when I hit the first block I chose to move onto the next. I could go back tonight to break through any barriers.

The next line was the same, so I tried the third.

That one let me through without any resistance, and I gripped onto it eagerly, impatient to finally get somewhere in my investigation.

What I uncovered, however, was not what I had been expecting.

It was an audio recording that had been deleted but hadn’t been completely erased from the server. Audio files were more difficult to investigate in a public setting because I would have to focus more on the internal happenings than the external. If anyone tried to get my attention, short of physically shaking me they wouldn’t succeed.

But I decided to take that risk and let it play.

It was a conversation between a man and a woman recorded on board The Carina and date-stamped two days ago. Unfortunately, because there was no video footage, I was unable to determine their identities.

‘ Any contenders? ’ the woman asked the man.

‘ There are a few cadets who fit the profile.’

‘ What about the Christianson kid? He’s been actively searching for a way to keep his sister safe after the assault. Hasn’t left her side in the infirmary since.’

‘He’s top of the list. I had wondered about the Hastings kid, too.’

‘ The one everyone’s accusing of the assault? Do you think that’s a good idea if we’re recruiting Christianson?’ the woman asked, and a chill went down my spine at somehow catching the attention of the very people for whom I was looking for. That wasn’t part of the plan… but after listening to what was said next, I considered if perhaps it should be.

‘He’s a wild card but put him on the list for now. If he’s still being targeting he could be open to a way out. We all know it wasn’t him, and we can show the Christianson boy the footage if they clash.’

‘Right. Keep an eye out. Anyone else?’

‘What about that Mercer kid? The one from Hastings’ team.’

‘The scrawny one?’

‘Small doesn’t mean weak.’

‘If you think he’d worth putting on the list then I won’t stop you, but he’s not my first choice.’

‘I will. We don’t have much time left. Just until we land, and then it’s go-time. We need a complete list before then.’

The audio cut off then, and I mulled over what I had learned. They were after Reece, and they were apparently after me, too. I couldn’t allow them to get their hands on him, but what about me? It wasn’t in my plans to get caught, but perhaps going into The Program undercover was exactly what I needed to be finding a way to do. It would make things a lot simpler getting in and out if they gave me access.

I didn’t like it, but if I played my cards right I could potentially have the opportunity to be led directly to the very place and the people I was searching for. Or at least get close enough to figure it out from there.

A plan solidified in my mind, and I knew exactly what to do.

This was good. This was exactly what I needed.