Tuffs put her nose to mine again. I saw through the watching cats’ eyes as the injured ones were lifted and carried inside, one cat in each of Jagger’s arms. As the door was closing, both of the watcher cats leaped in, tails pulled in tight to keep from getting caught in the closing seal. My vision went with them, flying in the air. One leaped across Jagger, paws pushing off from his back. Jagger cursed. I breathed out a huff of amusement.
In a swirling, shifting, visual transfer, I was staring at the invading team, four of them gone down into the crack, the remaining two leaning against a skid of chrome bumpers, vaping something noxious. The view shifted again, and I was smelling and tasting the raw meat a half dozen cats were feasting on at the front airlock. Bearded Guy and the woman who died first were both a hit with the felines. No need to waste protein, I thought. Though they were not eating their own compatriots who were growing stiff with rigor, so some protein was more respected than other protein.
Tuffs thought a concept at me that translated vaguely aswe do not eat our people.
Which meant cats were “people” to her, but humans were not.Okay.
Another concept translated asambush invaders in crack. And then I tasted my blood and realized Tuffs was lapping up the blood that had pooled across my legs and I was tasting it in her mouth.
Guess that means I’m notherpeople. Tuffs didn’t disagree. The blood, filled with fresh bio-mech-nanos meant that Tuffs and I were more firmly bonded and merged than when she had lived with me after I healed her in the med-bay. Back then she had slept in my bed. We had touched. Too much. Back before I knew much about what I had become and that I could infect anything with a blood supply.
“Stop drinking my blood,” I told her, trying to push her away with my free hand. She dodged my hand, ignoring me. “You’re going to be more bonded to me.” She ignored me some more.Damn cat.
Tuffs lifted her head and looked at the next screen, making the “Meep,” sound again. Odd with my blood on her lips.
“Jolene,” I said. “Human invaders are attempting to access the portions of your ship that are down in the crack. Did CO Mateo leave protocols intact to protect weapons arrays and AI backup?”
“Affirmative,” she snapped sounding less AI and more severely irritated human. “If you want to rescind your order to only answer with minimal info, we can chat about that.”
More human.
I thought about all the parts of theSunStarI had touched when I came inside that very first time. My sweat on the controls. My breath circulating through the ship systems. When I survived the Mama-Bot, my bio-nanos had converted mech-nanos to their own purposes inside me. And those mixed-nanos were . . . everywhere. Inside theSunStar.
Bloo-dy hell. What had I done? No wonder Jolene sounded so different.And now? My blood in the sleeve would make it much worse.
“Consider the order rescinded and my apologies offered,” I said, hearing the sadness in my tone through Tuff’s ears. “Is there something like auto defenses that will take care of the invaders?”
“Affirmative. Would you like me to twist their tails for info first or just shoot ’em dead?”
They were MS Angels. My enemies. And they had killed Harlan.
“I’d like to keep one on the surface alive, if we can make that work, but the ones in the crack I’d like to be dead.”
They knew too much. They had seen too much. Everything else was a diversion. Even Harlan was a diversion. They might want me dead, but . . . what they really wanted was the ship. Which they had found out about by currently unknown means.
“Fire at will.”
Jolene said, “That’ll make the toxic crack rats happy. Dinner coming up ratties! Port weapons array, targetin’. Firin’.”
I heard the sound of the shots through the watching cats’ ears. Felt them hunch down in fear, ears pressing close to their skulls, eyes staring at the remaining humans. Who were shouting, leaning over the edge of the crack, slapping their comms equipment.
Back to the vision of Tuffs as seen from behind me. She was sitting on my knees, nose pressed to mine, her front feet in my blood, her nose covered in it. She licked the skin below my nose, and it was a tasting moment, not a bonding moment. That view swung from cat to cat until I knew where each of the other three cats in theSunStarwas sitting. All behind me. Most of the visuals coming from Notch.
My visuals swung around from cat to cat as Tuffs touched base with each member of her current clowder and with the other pride leaders outside theSunStar. It was disorienting, more intense than motion sickness, a bilious, queasy, upside-down and backward sensation that made using Mateo’s screens seem like child’s play. She made a soft, “Heh,” breath of amusement.
“You know the cats are eating the man at the front door,” Jagger drawled.
“He’s dead, right?”
“Yeah, so?”
“He’s good protein and moisture for desert predators and scavengers.”
“Long as you don’t expectmeto eat him.”
“You won’t be here long enough to get that hungry,” I said, pulling away from Tuffs’ nose. I thought my way back through the screens, to the edge of the crack where the two remaining humans had backed away and were trying to confer with the invaders up front—unsuccessfully, suddenly.
I directed the ARVAC to the front of the property and divided my attention to see a new vehicle out in the road, a massive war machine like a huge Tactical Vehicle—a truck that was brought up on steroids and Devil Milk and growth hormones and then had a growth spurt. That sucker wasbig. It had to be a late model, heavily modified, Mammoth Tactical Vehicle, with weapons and armor and a crap-ton of shielding. It was pulling the damaged, lighter-weight vehicles free of the tread spikes. If it wasn’t stolen, the MTV was evidence that my attackers had military and Gov. contacts.
