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“Yes. You are.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Space Opera Charlie

Alex opened his eyes. He didn’t recognize where he was at first. He felt something crawl across the side of his face.

Whatever it was that touched him had an elbow attached to it. Alex ran his tongue across his lips. A thin layer of film had formed over the skin.

“Where am I? What happened?” he whispered.

“You passed out,” Nutrene’s reassuring tone drifted into his right ear.

He looked up the length of the arm to find the woman smiling at him. Her scary monocle tore his gaze away from her lips.

Alex felt the urge to grab his gun and defend himself, “Jesus, he tried to kill me.”

“No. He didn’t. Oxade was just making sure you were on-point.”

On-point? He accused me of espionage,” Alex blurted, still reeling from the effects of escaping execution, “He sure has a funny way of making sure his crew are okay.”

Her face crept over his. An undeniable heat rolled across her pupils as she stared into his eyes, “It’s okay, now. We’re about to board Opera Beta.”

“Is it safe?”

“Perfectly.”

Without warning she planted her lips on his and kissed him. He didn’t fight at first due to the shock. The deeper the kiss, the more he felt the need to push her away.

Alex clamped his hands on her shoulders and extricated himself from the unwanted attention. Nutrene wouldn’t stop and hoped Alex would sink into the event and enjoy it. Her palm slapped against his forehead and pinned the back of his head against his pillow.

“Nggg,” he struggled and flung his head to the side. His lips yanked several ropes of saliva across his cheek.

“Hey,” Nutrene’s monocle twisted around and focused on his face. She grabbed his hand and thrust it against her bare midriff, “Don’t you want this?”

“No,” he shoved back and threw his legs over the side of the bed, “Get off me.”

Nutrene jumped off the bed and rotated her monocle, “I guess we don’t see eye to eye, then.”

“Very funny,” Alex stood to his feet and brushed himself down, “Anyway, I have a girlfriend.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s her name?”

“If you must know, it’s Grace.”

“Ha,” Nutrene folded her arms in defiance. She threw her body weight onto her left leg, making damn sure her thigh was visible, “You know what they say about women who are named after adjectives, don’t you?”

Alex turned away, “It’s not an adjective. It’s a noun. Graceful would be an adject—”

“—Is she better than me?” she interrupted, taking offense at his dismissal and little interest in his ad-hoc English class.

“What is it with you, Nutrene?” Alex stood up and ran his hands through his hair, “Ever since we met you’ve been making eyes at me—”

“—That was a cheap jab.”

She turned away in a huff.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it. Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you’ve been looking at me. You’re meant to be focusing on the mission.”

“We spend all our time killing on behalf of the government,” she tried to win him around with a sly wink from her monocle, “Make love, not war. Right?”

“A bit of professionalism might help, here. Nutrene.”

“Oxade was right,” she snapped. “There’s something not quite right about you.”

“Really? How so?”

“Just the way you’re behaving. You’re not like any USARIC merc I’ve ever met. In touch with your feminine side? Acting like a little fairy, more like.”

“You’re screwed in the head. And that’s the only part of you that’s getting screwed if I have anything to do with it.”

“Funny man, aren’t you? Alex Hughes,” Nutrene bit her lip and decided she couldn’t look at him any longer, “You can’t blame a red-blooded woman pining for some human contact.”

“That’s the price you pay for dealing USARIC’s dirty work,” Alex made for the door with a steely determination to get the job done, “Don’t lecture me about right and wrong, Nutrene. You don’t know what you’re up against.”

“What’s that meant to mean?” she screamed. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Assault them, Nutrene. Don’t assault me,” Alex finished and left the room.

Primary Airlock
Space Opera Charlie

“No messing around. Just get on board and transmit your findings,” Oxade’s voice emanated through Poz’s head as he rolled toward the airlock on his cylinder.

“I don’t intend to mess around, Oxade.”

Poz turned down the walkway and saw Neg rolling towards him, “Would you hurry up, please?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Not good enough.”

The front of Poz’s crescent body opened up and produced a cylindrical magnet.

SPIZZZZ…

It rumbled violently and shook the air in front of it, “Come on, we’re wasting time, here.”

WHIZZ-SCHUNT!

The magnetic force lassoed Neg across the walkway. The side of her body slammed against his magnetic plate. He released her and spun around to the first airlock door.

“Oxade, we’re here. Can you open door A?”

“Opening, now,” Oxade advised.

The door slid open and allowed the pair into the chamber.

“Standby for decompression.”

The Control Deck
Space Opera Charlie

Oxade and Manny watched the giant three-dimensional holographic live feed of the airlock. Poz and Neg rolled into the decompression chamber.

The first door slammed shut behind them.

“Manny will attempt communication with Beta’s autopilot. The bridge will connect in sixty seconds.”

“Understood,” Poz said.

“Can you switch to 3-D representation, please.”

A black rod crept out from Poz’s scalp and fanned out into three prongs. Three transparent beams blasted around the decompression chamber.

Oxade took a few steps back as the live feed developed depth, slinking out into a three-dimensional box.

“Very good, thank you,” Oxade hit a button on the console. “Commencing decompression. Standby.”

SWWIIISSHHHH.

A blast of white gas flew out of the chamber’s walls and engulfed Poz and Neg. The glass-covered pressure inlet dial on the wall spun around.

“Reminds me of the last time you farted,” Neg chuckled to herself through the blast.

“I don’t fart.”

“Guys, knock it off,” Oxade said. “Taking you down to zero point five, ay-tee-em,” he turned to Manny, “How’s the link-up with Beta?”

“The bridging process is nearly complete,” Manny shuffled around in the air. A loading bar hung in front of her cover.

Opera Beta and Opera Charlie hung side by side. Beta’s white bridge rails extended toward its sister ship’s airlock.

CLAMP.

Opera Charlie’s bridge end latched on Opera Beta’s. The two vessels connected successfully.

“Connection secure,” Manny turned to Oxade, “Decompression set.”

Oxade stepped into the three-dimensional image, effectively appearing alongside Poz and Neg, “Okay. Listen up. I want an atmosphere reading as soon as you’re on board. Second, we need to know who’s alive and, more particularly, where Anderson is.”