Trapped with the Cyborg Page 12

  It would do no good to suggest if a god had watched over them, they wouldn’t be in this predicament. Facts couldn’t eradicate superstition. At least these people had evolved enough not to view off-worlders as the enemy.

  “One more thing,” Cornar said. “Watch for iwani. They are vicious and attack without warning.”

  “What do we look for?” Sonny asked.

  “There may be a ripple in the sand, but often the first hint is the attack itself.”

  Sighted by drones, captured by enemy soldiers, getting killed before they could transmit the intel, never seeing Sonny again—those things were worth worrying about. But a sand demon as fictitious as the mythological being that created it? Bring it on. She’d love to see one.

  “Do you have any other questions before you leave?” Cornar asked.

  No questions. Uncertainties. She checked with Sonny, and they shook their heads. “Thank you for your help,” Amanda said.

  “If the Great One wills it, we shall meet again,” he said. He addressed Tannah: “Guide them to the edge of the compound and return.”

  * * * *

  “How long has the tunnel been under construction?” Sonny asked. The narrowness forced them to march single file. Tannah led, Amanda followed, and he guarded the rear.

  “There is an older part that was already in existence when the Resistance formed,” Tannah answered. “The date of origin is a mystery. The Resistance expanded it so we could exit the city in an emergency.”

  Emergency, as in a raid, Sonny guessed.

  “After communications shifted to Mt. Torva, we began digging in that direction. The Resistance has worked on the tunnel on and off for some fifty solar revolutions.”

  “Fifty years?” Sonny said. When Cornar had said they’d been waiting for off-worlders to arrive, he’d assumed it meant a few years or so, since the first acts of terrorism had occurred.

  “We have desired to be free far longer,” Tannah scowled. “Lamani’s father ruled like his son, and his father before him, and his before him. Expanding the tunnel is a painstaking process—not the boring, but the sand removal. We dispose of it in the desert, but it must be done bucket by bucket, when women are able to sneak away.”

  “Women dispose of the sand?” Amanda growled.

  “Yes. That is one of the chief ways we support the Resistance. The men cannot leave as easily to dump the sand.”

  “What if you’re caught in the desert?”

  Tannah peered over her shoulder. “The tunnel would be discovered, the Resistance would fall, and we would all—”

  “Be put to death.” Sonny finished the sentence with her.

  “I would do everything in my power to not betray my comrades, to keep the tunnel’s location and the Resistance secret. I would kill myself first if I could.

  They’re certainly committed, Amanda said.

  They’re willing to die for their cause. As they were. Every single cyberoperative would fight to the death. Many had died. The stakes were high. There wasn’t a single mission not life-threatening. Like this one. How would he get Amanda off this forsaken planet? Sonny would trade his life to ensure she survived to enjoy a long and happy life, meet a nice guy, have a couple of kids.

  His stomach knotted. He hated her fictitious future man. He didn’t wish for her to live the rest of her life alone, but he disliked the alternative. Moot point. He’d be dead and wouldn’t know she’d found somebody else. The only way he would know would be if they achieved the impossible and got off this planet and then went their separate ways. Then she could meet her Mr. Wonderful.

  So his options were death or having his insides twisted with jealousy.

  You’re quiet all of a sudden, she said.

  Daydreaming.

  Pleasant dreams?

  Wondering what happens after we get off this planet.

  Is that possible?

  I calculate our odds at 1.5 percent.

  That good, huh?

  Piece of cake.

  “Tannah, how did you get involved with the opposition?” she asked. “How were you recruited?”

  She glanced at them with a sad smile. “I would be the last one you would guess would rebel. I never shook the sand basket. I lived to serve The Great One and Lamani, who I believed to be his Prophet and Incarnate. An obedient daughter, I did not question my parents’ teachings, and I rejoiced for my sister’s good fortune when she was mated to a powerful general.” She stopped marching and turned to face them. “Then, without cause or reason, her mate accused her of treason and heresy and airlocked her.”

  An excruciating way to die. Shoved into outer space, a person flash froze to death—but remained conscious for long seconds to experience the agony of inflating like a balloon.

  “I’m sorry,” Amanda said.

  Tannah’s fingers went white around the glow stick she held. “My sister was a good person. The accusations were false. If that is what Lamani stands for, then I want no part of it. I vowed General Obido and others like him must pay for their perfidy.”

  Sonny jerked. “General Obido?”

  Do you think? Amanda asked.

  “You know him?” Tannah asked.

  The general, a key henchman, commanded a space station outpost. He also had kidnapped a pregnant Terran woman, who’d birthed a daughter. The woman had been put to death and her daughter raised to believe she was Lamis-Odg. Her true lineage had come to light when cyberoperative Kai Andros went undercover on the general’s space station. Posing as an android, he’d rescued Mariska, the daughter—and Janai, the general’s mate.

  “We know of him.” Sonny narrowed his eyes. “What is your sister’s name?”

  “She was called Janai.”

  Sisters! “I thought you looked familiar when we first met,” Amanda said.

  “I don’t understand.” Tannah wrinkled her brow.

  Amanda touched the woman’s sleeve. “I have something to tell you.” She glanced at Sonny before focusing again on Tannah. “Your sister is alive.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “She wasn’t airlocked. She did rebel, but she was rescued by a, um, undercover agent. Janai defected to Terra.”

  “She’s alive? Are you sure?” Hope wavered in her eyes, and her lower lip trembled.

  “Yes. I’ve met her.”

  Tannah burst into tears. “Why did she let us believe she had died?”

  “She had no way to communicate,” Sonny said. They were sneaking through an underground passage so they could hike through the desert to get to the one place where they might get a message out. No way could Janai have contacted her sister.

  Janai used us to contact Tannah, Amanda said. The details she gave Cy-Ops resulted in us being here. She could have focused on General Obido’s space station, but she didn’t. All her intel pointed to Kilead’s vulnerabilities. Obviously, she knew her sister was Garvit’s mate, and he worked as an escort.

  Smart and sly.

  Tannah smiled through her tears. “I thank The Great One she is alive.”

  “Does this development change your mind?” Amanda asked Tannah.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You joined the opposition for revenge, believing your sister was killed. Now you know that’s not the case.”

  “My resolve is strengthened. General Obido lied to my parents.”

  He lied to save face, Sonny said.

  Or his ass. He probably didn’t want to admit the extent to which security had been compromised.

  “They still grieve for her, and I cannot reveal the truth, because how would I explain? I must move forward.” Tannah dried her tears. “Come. It grows late.” She marched down the tunnel but then stopped dead. “Did she even commit treason?”

  Sonny exhaled a silent sigh. “By the laws of your people, yes. She helped the agent escape, and, in return, he took her with him. If he had not done so, she probably would have been airlocked.”

  “For her to go against her mate, I surmise
she, too, learned the truth. I am doing the right thing by helping you. The Great One will separate truth from lies. He will reward the righteous and punish the wicked.” She hurried down the passage.

  They marched single file in silence.

  Do you have any idea what direction we’re headed? Amanda asked.

  Not a clue. Sonny’s microprocessor bestowed him with an excellent sense of direction, but he was on an alien planet navigating a secret passage with so many twists, even he had become disoriented. Twice he would have sworn they had doubled back toward the residence.

  They really did design it to confuse, she said.

  Sorviq’s men would have to be very familiar with the tunnel not to get lost. Only wide enough for a single individual to walk, the underground passage prevented a regiment from storming through. An entire unit could enter—but would be bottlenecked and limited to the speed of the lead man.

  That’s about our sole break on this mission.

  Other than encountering the Resistance, he pointed out.

  So you’re convinced they’re legit? You don’t think Tannah is leading us to a dungeon? I’m only half joking. This is beginning to make me nervous.

  Me, too. I don’t like how I’ve lost my sense of direction.

  A man who will admit he doesn’t know where he’s going!

  Har har. If this was a trap, they wouldn’t have gone to such elaborate lengths to take us into custody. They have nothing to gain.

  Except get us to trust them in hopes we’ll tell them what we know.

  They could torture us for the information.

  Oh, that’s reassuring.

  He couldn’t walk abreast of her, so he grabbed her hand and threaded his fingers between hers.

  She looked back with a question in her eyes.

  I don’t think I said thank you, he said.

  For what?

  Sticking with me when I broke my leg.

  You’re my…partner. I have your back.

  And I have yours. I would die before I’d let anything happen to you, he said. She was a capable, dedicated Cy-Ops agent who’d carried the load when he’d been injured. But still.

  For once she didn’t scowl or bristle. I know you would. I’m hoping it won’t come to that. Her eyes and her smile were soft.

  That increased his desire to protect her.

  * * * *

  “I can go no farther.” Tannah raised her glow stick to reveal markings chiseled into the sandstone. “We have reached the border of the city. From here, the passage extends into the open desert for a ways.” She pointed with the light. “The rest of the tunnel is not maze-like. You won’t get lost. You will encounter one fork; go to the right. It will take you about a day and a half’s journey in the tunnel. Once you exit, head toward the setting sun. Mt. Torva is the tallest mountain. When you see it, you’ll know which way to go. It will take you another day and a half on foot to get there.”

  And if we miss it, I have a map of Lamis-Odg from Kilead’s PerComm in my head, she said. While we were walking, I had time to read through a lot of the files I downloaded.

  “If you are successful, go to the safe house. You have the coordinates. May the Great One watch over you and guide your journey.”

  “Thank you for everything you’ve done. Please extend our gratitude to the others,” Sonny said.

  “The gratitude is mine. That my sister lives is a blessing and renews my purpose. Glory to the Great One.”

  Amanda hesitated then hugged her. “Have a safe trip back.”

  They separated, and Tannah said, “You do not follow the teachings of the Great One, do you?”

  “I do not believe in a deity of any kind,” Amanda said.

  “One must have courage to live by one’s wits and not one’s fears.” The woman bowed her head. “I am not brave. I must play it safe to not incur His wrath and spend eternity as an iwani.”

  Religion enforced conformity with a carrot and a stick. For Lamis-Odg, the carrot led to a Blessed Beyond of eternal life. But the stick was a bitch. As punishment for disbelief, they would be turned into demons and exiled beneath the sand. Given the options, the choice seemed simple: believe.

  Unless they could accept that none of it was true—not the Blessed Beyond, not the punishment, not even the Great One. It was all a hoax perpetuated over the millennia. But, before the relief of unbelief could occur, skepticism had to germinate. One began the journey to freedom with questions. And courage. The recognition of how fear influenced religious faith represented a huge step.

  “You have displayed great bravery already,” Sonny said. “Without your help, we wouldn’t have a chance.”

  “I must do what I can, but it may not be sufficient.”

  There were never guarantees. Sometimes they won. Sometimes they failed. “You’d better go now,” he said. “Be safe.”

  “You, too,” she said, and marched back toward the compound, her glow stick becoming fainter and fainter. When she rounded a corner, her light disappeared.

  “You think she’ll make it okay?” Amanda said.

  Sonny sighed. “Her chances are better than ours.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  The tunnel did prove to be pretty much a straight shot. Upon reaching the fork, they veered right as instructed. Amanda checked the maps she’d downloaded from the PerComm. It boded well the underground passage wasn’t on them. But it would be open season once they left the tunnels.

  Without Tannah, they made much better time and found the exit to the surface in half a day, a few hours from nightfall according to Amanda’s internal clock.

  Like a typical male, Sonny insisted on peering outside first to check things out. Surprisingly, it didn’t bug her. She did not approve of macho crap, but with Sonny, there was something endearing about it. Besides, you had to pick your battles. No point in sweating the small stuff. It didn’t matter she was supposed to be the team leader and calling the shots. They were in this together. They depended on one another. If he insisted on playing the hero, she’d let him—provided he wasn’t in any real danger. She folded her arms and grinned. Besides, this way she could watch his ass as he trudged up the rough-hewn stairs.

  He eased aside a slab of sandstone. Light spilled into the narrow cavern. He cocked his head.

  What do you hear? She communicated via wireless in case someone was topside.

  Nothing, he replied then added, aloud, “It’s clear.”

  “What do you see?”

  “Sand. Sand. And more sand. And a mountain peak in the distance. By my estimation, we’ll reach it by tomorrow this time.” He ducked back into the tunnel and flattened himself against the wall so she could squeeze by for a peek.

  Sand dunes tinted red by the sinking crimson sun undulated out to the horizon like a sea of blood. Rising in the distance—Mt. Torva, confirmed by her stolen map. A rush of wind swirled into a powerful eddy, pelting her face with sand. She’d wondered what the long scarves in their packs were for. Now she knew: protective wraps. Her eyes watered; in the moment it took to blink and clear them, the landscape had shifted. Dunes that had been there a minute ago had vanished, and flat areas had swelled to hills. Only Mr. Torva remained unchanged.

  She glanced at Sonny. “It seems deserted, but a PeeVee or a drone could zip from behind a dune before we saw it.”

  He nodded. “We’d better stick with our plan to travel at night. It won’t shield us from a scan, but it will minimize the visuals.”

  She replaced the slab over the opening and dropped back into the tunnel. “It will be dark in an hour.”

  He nodded. “I didn’t see any shelter out there.”

  “Other than burrowing under the sand, there isn’t.” She let her pack drop then slid to the ground and wrapped her arms around her knees. Though wider near the exit, the passage was still narrow. Not the place to be if you were claustrophobic.

  Sonny squeezed himself to a sitting position facing her.

  “We should eat. Keep hydrated,” she
advised. “Remove the ID chips.”

  “We’ll do that,” he agreed.

  Did he have to stare at her? “Do I have something on my face?” She rubbed her cheek.

  “Your face is fine. More than fine. Beautiful.” His husky tone and intense gaze implied a depth of emotion not contained in his words.

  “Uh, um, thank you.” Her face warmed, an uncommon shyness stealing over her. “It’s the glow sticks. Not much light.” She downplayed the compliment.

  Sonny shook his head. “No, it’s you.”

  “You look dashing yourself,” she said. Shadows outlined the hard, rough angles of his jaw, the jagged scar. His clothing was torn and dirty, and a smudge streaked across his nose, yet he’d never been more attractive. Unlike “Manny,” he’d never boasted of his conquests, but she’d bet a full month of credits he drew women like flies. He certainly had her.

  He watched her now, his eyes heated, determined, caring. Had a man ever looked at her like she mattered? Had she ever allowed herself to get close enough to one so he could?

  Not until now. Fearful of rejection, of criticism, of not measuring up, she’d kept them at bay. Used them to scratch an itch, as Manny had once said. With Sonny, it had been different from the start.

  Despite the danger—maybe because of the peril—they had become a team, partners. And more. She’d fallen for the big cyborg galoot. Fallen with a capital L. She’d been as obtuse as a Lamis-Odg, refusing to admit the truth staring her in the face, trekking along beside her. In a short time, they would push aside the rock, crawl out of the tunnel, and march across the desert to a probable demise. They had a fair chance to get the intel to Carter, but getting off the planet? Cornar was right. Nil.

  If she didn’t admit the truth now, when would she?

  “I would die before I’d let anything happen to you,” he had said. She felt the same way. If she survived, and he didn’t, a black hole would open up and suck her inside. He had to live, and she would fight for his safety first—not because they were fellow cyberoperatives and she had his back—that went without saying—but because she had to.

  “I lo—don’t die,” she said.

  His mouth twitched. “I’ll try not to.”