Chen Page 2

  Gunfire erupted as Chen vaulted over the barricade with May hot on her heels. She screamed, firing her weapon, as from the other side of the field she saw the rest of the unit—Inouye and Grenville and their two wolves—storming the same position she’d charged. She spotted movement to her right as a second enemy squad broke cover to fire on them. Chen turned and squeezed off a spray of shots, dropping one and then another, before her vest buzzed and a light on her shoulder flashed to indicate she’d been hit.

  Chen swore and went down on one knee to wait out the exercise just as the blurry shape of Nujalik pounced into the second squad. She could feel the wolf’s pride as she scored a kill of her own, and the soldiers, uncertain how many wolves were attacking, panicked. May changed direction, firing into the broken ranks and finishing the squad, while Inouye and Grenville cleaned up the original target. After that, it was only a matter of moments before the horn sounded to indicate the end of the exercise.

  The planetary troops training with them groused and moved to the hydration station on the edge of the field, while the rangers had the good grace to let them drink first. May walked over and extended their arm to help Chen to her feet. “What happened?”

  Chen ignored the question, focusing on her wolf as Nujalik raced over to greet her. She dug her hands into the lensing camouflage of the wolf’s coat and nuzzled between her tufted ears. “I saw, yes I did. Good girl.”

  More blurs joined the tussle as the rest of the fireteam arrived. Excited barking and yipping commenced as the umbra wolves reaffirmed their connection to each other as well as their human bondmates. Chen dug into her thigh pocket and fished out a hunk of dehydrated liver, printed off from the fabricator that morning. Immediately, Nujalik’s focus was laser sharp, and the wolf’s anticipation made Chen’s nerves hum like a taut string. She tossed the treat away from the group, and Nujalik dashed after to catch it before it hit the ground.

  “I can’t believe you feed her those things.” Grenville, the team’s resident pretty boy, made an appalled face.

  “The Systems are full of unbelievable things. For example, I can’t believe someone’s willing to marry you, so...” Chen gave a shrug. She hadn’t put much malice behind the ribbing, and indeed, it failed to land with any sort of impact. Grenville just gave that stupid grin he’d been wearing lately and fiddled with the silicon band around his finger. That had become the ranger’s standard response when teased about his impending nuptials.

  It gave Chen hives.

  “You didn’t answer me, Specialist.” May’s voice was sharp, despite being quiet, and it sliced through the team’s good mood like a razor. May only used rank when they were being official about things, which meant they were angry.

  “It worked out, Corporal. We won.”

  “We won because your wolf was able to keep attacking. You went down. If it were a real combat, there’s no guarantee she’d press the fight. Or even fight on our side.” May took a deep breath. “I cut you a lot of slack, all of you, but Triptych won’t.”

  The mention of the crime cartel that served as the rangers’ primary adversary put a pall on the discussion, and even the wolves settled their play slightly.

  Chen glanced over at where Nujalik wrestled with the other wolves in their pack and closed her eyes. “I couldn’t tell if she was in position. So I guessed.”

  “You staked an attack, the lives of your colleagues, on a guess.” May’s short, clipped tones highlighted her squad leader’s incendiary anger.

  Chen was mortified. “I wouldn’t do it in combat. I—”

  “You did do it in combat. How long has this been going on?” They slung their weapon over one shoulder and pulled off their helmet. “How long?”

  “Since the surgery. She’s...” Chen searched for a word that the other rangers might understand, but only one made sense. “Distant sometimes. Like on the other side of a fog bank. It’s—” An alarmed yelp cut her off and stabbed through her brain like a flash migraine. Chen winced and sought out Nujalik among the rest of the pack. Even without the wolfbond, she’d have known Nujalik’s blur from the others, but the sudden odd, limping gait only made the wolf more obvious. Panic crushed Chen’s chest like a fist, and she forced herself to send waves of calm reassurance to the wolf. Nujalik limped toward her, hind leg raised to avoid putting weight on it.

  Chen lifted all twenty-one kilos of her wolf into her arms as though Nujalik weighed nothing. “What happened, girl?” Everything felt off-kilter, like Chen had done a pirouette in low gravity. The connection to her wolf may have stretched thin, but the wolf’s surprise and discomfort echoed back along the wolfbond with astonishing clarity. The wolf hooked her chin over Chen’s shoulder, and Chen stroked her fingers down the wolf’s back until they both relaxed. “That’s right. I’ve got you. You’re okay.”

  Grenville tapped her shoulder. “Everything all right?” Behind him stood Inouye and May, their expressions tight with concern.

  “I don’t know,” she admitted. What else could she say?

  May nodded. “I want you back with the doctor as soon as we’re on board the Cry. Both of you.” They fixed her with a pointed glare that spoke volumes. May had been her confidant through Nujalik’s PT and knew she had issues with Dr. Priddy.

  Not with his care, which had been top-notch, but with the fact that she couldn’t deny being attracted to him. She might prefer women for her long-term relationships, but she certainly wasn’t above finding men fun for the occasional one-off. She’d pushed Nujalik hard during the PT process, not only to help her heal, but so the sessions could end. Any excuse to stay out of the doctor’s distracting presence. If Elena had taught her anything, it was to avoid repeatedly exposing herself to trauma.

  “You want me to come with?” May reached out a hand and stroked their fingers along Nujalik’s cheek. “For moral support?”

  “You mean to make sure I go?” Chen teased, and the fireteam was back to normal. Or as close to normal as they ever got.

  JAVAD’S OMNIDEVICE chimed; the sound made unease twist in his stomach like too many worms. He’d set custom tones for all the people he knew, which meant the default chime was them. Again.

  He pulled his omni out of the pocket of his lab coat and glanced at the screen. It was a photo this time, a change of pace from the strangely specific questions he’d received previously. As before, it was from an unrecognized and unlisted source. That was what really set him on edge—the system data wasn’t supposed to be hackable like that. The message should have listed an originating MAC address at the very least. He started to swipe-delete when he recognized the unsolicited photo as his parents’ restaurant.

  He dashed off a quick response, wondering if he’d let his suspicions get the best of him. You get a new omni? Who’s this?

  The response came almost fifteen minutes later; not an unusual delay given that the Hunting Cry was in orbit. You know who it is.

  Time for another favor. Javad rolled his eyes before typing his answer. What now? Need another supply count? He had no idea what the questions were supposed to prove, but they felt suspiciously like some kind of test. Still, they had been harmless enough so far—the last message had asked him how many suture packs were in the med bay—and he had swallowed his reservations and gone along with it.

  You need to isolate an umbra wolf for pickup.

  Javad gasped, and his omni slipped out of his fingers to clatter on the desk. His laugh was too loud in the tiny room. There’s no way I can do that.

  The pause before the next message was so long Javad though they’d blown him off. Then his omni chimed again. Too much money has been invested in you at this point. If you won’t comply, I can recoup my investment through other means.

  Two more photographs followed. The first was another shot of the restaurant, from inside this time, showing his mom talking to a customer from her perch behind the counter. From what he could see of the crowd, he expected his mother and dad would be in the kitchen, handling meal prep.
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br />   The second was a picture of his sister getting out of a hovercar with the university in the background. The shot was clearly taken from inside the car, and everything about it felt off. Too candid. Too personal. Too close to her.

  His suspicion transformed into worry, and he archived all three messages, then blocked the number. With a lump knotting his throat, he dialed the restaurant.

  His mom picked up a moment later, her scripted announcement of the restaurant name and hours stopping as soon as she recognized him on the screen. “Javad! He said you’d call!”

  Panic squeezed his throat, and he had to force words out. “Mom! Who said I’d call? Are Dad and Mother alright?”

  The delay created by the orbital relay ate into his nerves, and he clenched and unclenched his hand around the fabric of his slacks. His mom’s response, when it came, was full of her usual amused deflection. “Of course they’re all right. Why wouldn’t they be? Stop being silly.”

  “I’m not being silly. Just...go check.”

  His mom laughed, her equivalent of whatever you say, and walked back to the kitchen. She turned the omni’s camera so Javad could see his other two parents happily at work. His dad waved from the sous-station, where he was slicing an eggplant.

  His mom carried the phone back behind the counter. “What’s this about?”

  He cut off her line of questioning. “Who said I’d call?”

  “Liam Ratliff. You remember him? Said he wanted to give me a message, that you’d call this afternoon. He said you got a message too. What did yours say?” In the background, Javad could hear the front door chime as someone entered the restaurant.

  Javad’s blood went cold at the name, but he pushed the fear down so his mom wouldn’t see. “It just said I should call you. That’s all. I’m glad I did.”

  “Me too. But you know it’s the start of dinner rush. Or do you? I suppose I don’t know what time it is up there in space.”

  He rolled his eyes. “It’s Farhope standard, Mom.” Which meant he was still well off from her local time on Khonsu. He minimized the call and checked his parents’ local time. As she’d said, he’d called right at the start of the rush. “You know you all do well enough you could hire help.”

  She tsked and waved her hand. “I like giving our customers the personal touch. Zofie and Konrad feel the same way.”

  He hated that he’d become a person with whom his parents used their familiar names, and preferred thinking of them as Mother, Mom, and Dad, but that wasn’t a battle he was prepared to fight at the moment. “Okay, I won’t argue. I just want you three to be able to enjoy life a little.”

  The door dinged again, and his mom glanced toward the entrance. “We’re filling up, Javad. You’ll call later, when we can all talk?”

  “Of course, Mom. I promise. Love you.”

  She smiled, putting her focus into the words despite the bustle around her. “Love you too.” Then she killed the connection and the screen went dark.

  Nothing about the conversation made him feel better. He tapped in the connection for Andile’s omni, but his sister didn’t pick up. Not that he’d expected her to; he’d be more surprised if she had.

  It’s time to deliver.

  The sentence brought back too many memories. As did Liam Ratliff’s name. The man was well connected in New Abydos’ government. A trustee for the university there. When he offered to help get Javad into the veterinary academy on Farhope, it had seemed like a dream come true. It couldn’t be a coincidence that he’d showed up at the restaurant, while Javad was getting the messages.

  His parents were too trusting, too eager to strike up a conversation with anyone who came into the restaurant. It made them great at their job, but the danger of it seemed suddenly outlined in neon. And his sister... He shook his head. Andile was on the mend. She’d been burned badly enough that she knew how to stay safe.

  He hoped.

  Javad typed up a short message to Andile and rushed it off to one of her private addresses. Hey, sis. Things are crazy with school right now, I know. Text me when you have a moment to talk? I’ll even call you.

  There was a knock at the door to his office, and Cignetti leaned into the open space. “Dr. Priddy? Your next appointment’s here.”

  Shit. Right. Chen and her wolf. In the stress of the anonymous messages, he’d forgotten that the ranger was coming back in for a follow-up. “Put them in two, would you?”

  The nurse nodded and ducked back out to take vitals and room the pair, leaving Javad wondering what the hell he’d do about his family. Unfortunately, he didn’t have much he could act on. His parents would never see the threat in a handful of candid photos. Even if they did, he couldn’t convince them to leave the restaurant. They had too much wrapped up in it.

  With any luck, Andile would message him soon. At least he could count on her to play it safe.

  Nujalik’s vitals downloaded to his omni as he made the short walk from his office to two, and he paused outside the door to the exam room to give them a quick review before going in. Weight looked steady. Pulse and respiration were normal. And no complaint on file beyond “requested appointment.” That didn’t give him much to go on.

  He badged the door and stepped through before it had finished sliding open, reflexively turning on the polarized light in the room. As soon as he did, the blurred silhouette at Chen’s feet resolved into the familiar black-furred shape of an umbra wolf. Smaller than Terran wolves, they were still large for a canid, and Nujalik was big even for the species. She easily stood sixty-five centimeters at the shoulder, and he’d bet she was closer to seventy.

  Four months later and the fur was still noticeably shorter where he’d had to shave it back for surgery. It gave her coat a split-level look that would have been sad or amusing on another animal. Somehow, the umbra wolf made it look dignified.

  Gods help him, he was becoming as enamored with the beasts as the rangers who bonded with them. He got down on one knee and beckoned the wolf closer, careful to keep his focus on the animal and not the woman who stood nearby. “You going to let me take a look?”

  Chen leaned against the opposite door, as if she didn’t trust him and was ready to bolt from the room at a moment’s notice. Which would have horrified him if she wasn’t also perfectly capable of tearing him in half with her bare hands.

  He’d probably enjoy it, if he was being honest. The ranger had a dangerous appeal that tripped his chemistry in all the right ways, and an intensity that made him wonder what it would be like to be the subject of her complete focus.

  Not that he’d find out. Getting mixed up with a ranger was a bad idea. Everyone knew they were only invested in their wolves. Speaking of, Nujalik had finally crossed the floor to him.

  He stroked his hands along the wolf’s sides, feeling the slight bump of the scar beneath his fingertips. That the wound healed as smoothly as it had surprised him; perhaps there was something to the stories of how the wolfbond benefited both members. He spoke to the wolf with a quiet, calm voice. “Let’s see how we’re looking, okay?” After tapping a command onto his omni, the polarized light in the room clicked off.

  Immediately, the black fur of the wolf went translucent, lensing the light around the animal’s body to create a blurry image of what was behind it.

  “Looks like her coat’s growing back really well. Sometimes that doesn’t happen with umbra wolves. They lose their invisibility at the site of the injury.” He pulled a chewable treat out of his pocket and let Nujalik take it from his hand. “The scars seem to have knitted up nicely.”

  “I wasn’t worried. She’s a tough one.” Chen kept her voice guarded, watching him as though she planned to snatch back her wolf at the first sign of trouble.

  “You remember I’m on your side, right? I’m the one who’s trying to help?”

  “I suppose.”

  “I could get another doctor, if you’d rather. Dr. Bajusz, maybe? She’s good with wolves.” She certainly had more experience at dealing w
ith the macho bullshit games the rangers tended to play, even if he had the better education. That made him think of the text again; Nujalik’s ears perked as a chill squeezed the back of Priddy’s neck.

  “No,” Chen said. “Nujalik prefers you.”

  “Okay then. Let’s talk about what’s going on.” He ducked his head low, in imitation of a play bow, and the wolf responded with a string of noises somewhere between a howl and a bark. He held out another treat, and the wolf circled close again. On a guess, he ran his palm down Nujalik’s flank. The skin trembled beneath his hand, subcutaneous muscles twitching. The wolf was trying hard to hide her pain, whatever it was.

  He nodded. “How’s her gait looking? Top speed?”

  “Fine.”

  He hated this part. The rangers were even more stubborn than their wolves, insistent that they couldn’t be hurt. That any injury could be shaken off given enough time and booze. No subtle line of inquiry they couldn’t outlast. He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a few breaths to calm himself. If she wanted to defend, then he’d go on the attack. “You know they don’t like to show weakness, even to bondmates. It’s a defensive gesture to protect their social status within the pack.”

  Chen’s eyes widened briefly before she regained control. Had he not been watching her, he’d have missed it.

  “You might have noticed something through the bond,” he continued. “Something out of the ordinary.”

  Her lips tightened and thinned as Chen clenched her jaw. Javad waited. After several silent seconds, she realized he wouldn’t say anything further until she continued. “She let out a yelp while playing. She wouldn’t put any weight on her back leg for almost an hour after.”

  That was more like it. Data points he could work with, get a picture of the extent of the wolf’s injuries and how best to treat them. “When was this?”

  “Yesterday, but that hardly makes sense. We’ve been drilling with the dirtsiders—sorry, planetary infantry. She’d been just fine the previous two days.” Chen closed her eyes, lips thin and tight. “I thought she was getting better.”