Malfunction, page 6
“It’s programmed to lock into the Trakis Three’s signal,” Pryce said. “It’s all on autopilot, so you don’t need to do anything.”
Just as well. They hadn’t included shuttle flying in his training, but then he wasn’t supposed to have been awakened until they reached their new home, either.
“Report in when you arrive.”
“Yes, sir.”
Katia just nodded. She clearly didn’t like Major Creepy Misogynist, as she’d referred to him. Obviously, a good judge of character.
Pryce strode across the docking bay, disappearing behind a pile of stuff. Layla had stayed where she was.
“Could I talk to you for a moment?” she said.
“Of course.”
“Alone?”
He cast a glance at Katia, giving her a silent plea for help, but she only raised a brow. “I’ll be waiting in the shuttle. Just don’t take too long.”
She headed up the ramp. At the top, the doors slid open, and she went inside. Logan turned his attention to Layla, trying to hide his impatience. “What is it?”
“I don’t think you should go.”
He didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but it wasn’t that. Had Katia been right and Layla “liked” him? He hadn’t been getting those sorts of vibes from her at all. “I was woken up to do a job. I don’t think the captain would be too impressed if I decided I’d rather stay here.”
“I can put in a good word for you with the captain. See to it that she doesn’t put you back in cryo.” She reached out, resting a hand on his arm. “Let Detective Mendoza visit the Trakis Three. She’s perfectly competent and will share her findings. Everyone knows there’s nothing to find anyway. We’re merely going through the motions. It’s a better use of your time to study the system’s logs. Identify the source of the malfunctions. I can help you with that.” She smiled, her eyes warm and inviting.
Someone cleared their throat from the top of the ramp. He glanced up to find Katia watching him. He caught her gaze, and she rolled her eyes. “If you’re coming, then get your ass on board. If you’re not, you might want to get a safe distance. Wheels rolling in one minute.”
He glanced from her to Layla, gave a shrug. “Sorry, but I have to do my duty.”
Behind him, Katia made a choking sound, probably some sort of expression of her disbelief, but he ignored her. “I’ll see you when we get back,” he said to Layla then turned and headed up the ramp, brushing past Katia, stepping inside, and coming to a halt.
A grin tugged at his lips. Inside, the shuttle was a single room, circular, about ten feet in diameter. A clear screen at the front—looked like he was going to get a great view of space—with a console beneath and lots of buttons and interesting stuff. Four seats, two sets of two.
Katia entered behind him, and the doors slid shut with a whoosh. A red light flashed on the console at the front, and beneath his feet, he felt a faint vibration as the engines fired.
And then they were slowly rising… A thrill shot through him. He just hoped his first ride in a shuttle wouldn’t also be his last.
Chapter Eight
“Sit down and strap yourself in. We’re going for a ride.”
Logan headed for what was clearly the pilot’s chair. Katia opened her mouth to tell him that seat was taken and then shut it again. She could be magnanimous and let him have the best seat…this time. From the goofy grin on his face, he was pretty excited about the whole thing.
She’d overheard most of the conversation between him and Layla—her hearing was more sensitive than humans. Poor Layla hadn’t stood a chance.
For a moment back there, she’d thought she was going to get lucky and Logan would choose to stay behind. Katia had nothing against him, but she worked better alone. Always had. She’d periodically worked with partners as a homicide detective, but only when her captain had insisted and she couldn’t get out of it.
She had a feeling Logan was just going through the motions. Whether that was because he really did believe the deaths were due to some sort of systems malfunction or whether he didn’t care and was happy to give the people in charge what they so clearly wanted, she wasn’t sure.
Perhaps from Rico’s point of view that would be the best result all around. Just close the case quickly, and everyone would be happy.
Except the dead Chosen Ones, of course.
And if this was some sort of serial killer, then there would be more victims. But did that matter if they were all going to die anyway? It was enough to do her head in.
She took the chair next to Logan and fastened the harness then set the alarm on her comm unit to thirty-two minutes, the length of the flight.
Something beeped and the screen came to life, showing the docking bay. They hovered above the floor, then the engines revved, sending a vibration though the shuttle.
Her heart rate sped up. She cast a sideways glance at Logan—he still had the grin plastered on his face. As if sensing her regard, he turned. “Fucking amazeballs.”
Then they were gliding forward. Ahead of them was what appeared to be a solid wall. Her hands tightened on the arms of her chair, but the wall lifted as they approached, and they flew slowly through the opening. She couldn’t see, but she presumed the doors closed behind them because they were in darkness. Then another set of doors opened, and the vastness of space lay before them. For a second, they hovered, then the shuttle shot forward, pressing her back into her seat, forcing the air from her lungs, and they were free of the ship and flying through space.
Beside her, Logan punched the air, and she found herself smiling at his enthusiasm.
As they settled to a steady speed, the pressure decreased, and she leaned forward and pressed a button on the console—the one button Rico had grudgingly said she could press. It changed the screen view, showed the rear of the shuttle and the huge bulk of the Trakis One behind them. She switched back to forward view. Better to see where you were going than where you’d been.
She unfastened the harness, stood up and stretched, turned to find Logan’s gaze on her, lazily perusing her body, lingering on her breasts.
The worrying thing was they were responding, her nipples tightening. Who would have thought it? Probably another side effect of coming out of cryo. No way would her nipples have the bad taste to respond to Logan, who, while quite pretty—okay, stunningly gorgeous—was a bit of a dick.
“Get that grin off your face, soldier.” But she couldn’t get upset about it. She felt good. Her belly was full of food, she was flying on a space shuttle, her cat was snoozing, and she had an interesting case to solve. Life didn’t get much better.
He unfastened his harness and pushed himself up, wandered around, hands shoved in his pockets as though, if he didn’t, he might give in to temptation and press a few buttons. “Do you know how any of this works? What it does?”
“No. Though Rico promised to teach me if I solve the case.”
“Rico?”
“The captain of the Trakis Two.”
“You sound like you know him…personally.”
Did he sound suspicious? Perhaps the less she talked about Rico the better. “I met him a few times before we left. I was one of the…civilian liaisons on the Trakis Two. Working with the Chosen Ones, preparing them. I had some training for that, and I met all the captains.” Gosh, she was a good liar.
“You’re lucky. I can’t see Captain Stevens or the major offering to teach me to fly. But then, I’m not a pretty girl.”
“Neither am I.”
He grinned. “All right, a beautiful woman.”
She shook her head and returned to her chair then reached into her bag and found the flask. She unscrewed the top and took a gulp, choked, then felt the warmth right down to her belly.
She handed the flask to Logan, and he lifted it to his mouth then took a swallow. “Balls,” he croaked, sinking to his seat. “What is that stuff?”
“Whiskey. Rico makes it on the Trakis Two.”
He took another gulp. “Do you think I could get a transfer?”
“Not a chance. You don’t have what it takes.” She studied him for a moment. “You know, I got the impression you’d already decided to go along with the whole”—she waved it off, such an implausible theory—“this is a systems malfunction scenario.”
“Maybe. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to know the truth. I’m a nosy bastard, and something isn’t quite right about this.”
“Is that why you joined the military police?” she asked. “Because you’re a nosy bastard?”
“A little. I was in bomb disposal before that. They tend to rotate you after a while.”
Before the ships had left Earth, there had been a time of upheaval. The last ten years, from when the government had announced the program and set up the lottery process, there had been a slow—at first, then speeding up—descent into chaos. As a homicide detective, she had been kept super busy. The army even more so. Various terrorist organizations had flourished, some wanting to take over the program, others just wanting to derail it; if they were going to die, then so was everyone else sort of attitude.
Maybe one of those terrorist groups could have infiltrated the Trakis program. The deaths might have been an act of terrorism. But why so few? She would have expected mass murder. Also, as far as she was aware, no one else had been woken up, and the crews had been vetted. But she supposed it wasn’t an impossible idea. For Christ’s sake, look at the Trakis Two. If they could do it, so could others. She made a mental note to add it to the investigation.
“I could have gone back to my unit,” Logan continued, “but I’ve learned the hard way that I…don’t fit in.”
“You don’t?” She studied him some more. It was no hardship. “You certainly look the part.”
“That bit’s easy. It’s playing the part that gets to be hard work in the end. And I lost the urge to bother. So I asked for a transfer to the military police—they’re always looked on as outsiders anyway. I got assigned to the investigator’s office and found I was good at it. That’s the nosy bastard bit. And I have a…sense about people.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this. I don’t talk about myself. Not ever.” He regarded her suspiciously.
Probably the whiskey loosening his tongue.
He looked away then took a deep breath. “So this case. We get to the Trakis Three and then what?”
Looked like she wasn’t going to get any more information about him. Back to work. “Crime scene first. Go take a look at the cryo tubes. Then see if we can get some names and information on the victims from the backup files. That might give us some idea of the motive. Then we can get some witness statements—talk to the crew, find out if anything unusual happened around that time. Any visitors from other ships. It’s a long time ago, but I’m betting nothing much usually happens and people will remember anything out of the ordinary. And hopefully, we can examine the bodies, if they kept them.”
“Sounds like fun. So how did you become a homicide detective?” he asked.
“What? You don’t think it’s a suitable job for a ‘pretty girl’?”
He held up his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, I never said that.”
She shrugged. “Just lucky, I guess. I always wanted to join the police. My dad was a cop. He was killed…murdered, actually. Along with my mom.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It was a long time ago.” Nearly a hundred years before they’d left Earth. They’d been murdered in the attack that had changed her. A rogue shifter. “They never caught the murderer. I wanted to do a better job. I wanted to give the dead a voice. It took me a while; I did a few other things first. I wasn’t very settled when I was younger.” That was putting it mildly. The first years after the change had been a nightmare. Not knowing what was happening to her, almost totally lacking any form of control. It was a wonder she had survived. Unlike werewolves, her kind were loners. She’d eventually found others like herself—thanks to Rico. She’d learned how to exist among humans, how to hide what she was, how to control her…appetites. “Then I joined up fifteen years ago. I did my time on the beat, and when I got the opportunity, I moved to homicide.”
He shook his head. “You really don’t look old enough.”
No way was she telling him her actual age. That would take a lot of explanation.
“Healthy living,” she said, taking a swig of whiskey, and he laughed.
She handed him the flask. He leaned across and took it, but his brow puckered, then he caught her hand, turned it over.
“What?” she asked.
“You said you had a skin condition when we first met. You wouldn’t shake hands.” He rubbed his thumb over the palm, and a shiver ran through her. “It seems to have cleared up.”
Busted.
She gave what she hoped was a casual shrug. “Maybe I just didn’t want to get touchy-feely with you.”
His lips curled up into a slow smile. “And now?” He looked at her, as if trying to decide something. “You know, I’ve never kissed a homicide detective.”
“Well, this is not the time to start.” She tugged her hand free.
“When will there be a better time? This is as good as it gets. We’re on a goddamn shuttle shooting across space. Seems like the perfect time to me. Come on. Haven’t you been curious? I know I am.”
Was she? Maybe a little. It had been so long for her. She didn’t do relationships. They never worked, and she found it hard to be with someone and have to lie about the fundamental things in her life. And telling the truth had never seemed like an option, either. For a while, she’d gone through a one-night stand stage, but then she’d lost the taste for it. Which meant nothing but her vibrator for longer than she could remember.
And really, what harm could it do? Chances were they would only be together for a short time. They’d either solve the case or hit a brick wall. Either way, they would go their separate ways. Her to the Trakis Two, Logan to the Trakis One, with an impassable expanse of space between them.
When she didn’t speak, he pushed himself to his feet and crossed to stand over her chair, turning it slightly to give him more room.
Resting his hands on the arms, he lowered his head. She thought about swiping his legs out from under him, knocking him on his ass, but she had to admit—she was curious. Curious about what he would taste like, feel like.
She held herself very still as his lips touched hers. There was nothing tentative about the kiss. Logan had clearly had a lot of practice. Heat washed through her as his lips parted hers and his tongue pushed inside. He didn’t touch her anywhere else. And she gave herself up to the sensations moving through her, warmth in her belly, a tingling along her nerves.
Holy freaking moly, he could kiss.
Finally, he raised his head. His eyes were amazing, unusual, filled with heat. “That was…interesting,” he murmured.
She reached up and slid a hand around the back of his neck, tugged him down, parted her lips—
Her comm unit buzzed, and she went still. They must be coming up on the Trakis Three. “Time’s up,” she said. Pity.
Logan straightened and turned to look at the screen. “Shouldn’t we be able to see the ship by now?” he asked.
She peered around him, turning her chair so she faced the front once more. A frown pulled her brows together. He was right, the screen showed nothing but space. She reached across and pressed the button to change the screen view. Behind them was more space. No sign of either the Trakis One or the Trakis Three.
“I think we might be in trouble.”
Chapter Nine
“What sort of trouble?” But Logan had an inkling. “Don’t tell me—a system malfunction. There seem to be a lot of those going around.”
“We appear to be heading into empty space,” Katia said. “There’s no sign of the fleet.”
“Can you stop us? Turn us around.”
She was staring at the console, a scowl on her face. “I have absolutely no clue how any of this works.”
He wished he could go back to kissing her. That was much more fun than contemplating the immensity of space. And being lost in it. He stared at the screen but could make out absolutely nothing of any help. Certainly not a spaceship.
“What would Han Solo do?” she muttered.
He’d fly the fucking ship. Except between the two of them, they had not a single clue how to do that.
Katia smashed her fist down on the console, and he jumped. “I don’t think that’s going to help,” he said.
A low growl trickled from her throat. “I am not going to freaking die in this freaking tin can.” She pressed her fingers to her forehead, took a couple of deep breaths. “See if you can contact the Trakis One,” she said.
He pressed the button on his comm unit. Nothing happened. “Anyone there?” He tapped it again. Still nothing. “Fucking stupid piece of crap.”
“Why am I not surprised?” She stared at her own comm unit for a moment then stabbed her finger on the button. “Rico, are you there?” Then louder. “Rico, if you’re there, answer the goddamn comm.”
Nothing.
“Rico, we’re in big trouble here. Answer the comm unit, pretty please.” She ground her teeth, glared at the comm unit on her wrist. “He wakes me up, sends me off, and the lazy bastard can’t even be freaking bothered to answer his freaking comm unit.”
The comm unit buzzed, and a voice came over. “Hey, I heard that, kitten.”
“Don’t call me freaking kitten,” she snarled.
He laughed. “What’s the problem? Solved the case yet?”
