The Iriduan’s Mate by Susan Trombley

Thirteen

Once Shulgi returned to the dreg, his first thought was to get to his room and clean off any trace of Molly’s scent. It wasn’t likely that the small bit that still clung to him would be enough to attract other males or cause an unintended imprinting, but if anyone did detect female pheromones on him, things could get ugly.

It was a pity, since he loved how Molly smelled and regretted having to wipe clean his entire body and the inside of his armor after cleaning any trace she’d left behind from running her fingers through his hair.

It was only once he’d completed cleaning himself that he dared to head to Namerian’s office and give him the news about signing the contract.

He had to wait for his kin, as Namerian was in the lab. He paced around the office’s confines, feeling exhausted but knowing he couldn’t allow his condition to show and cause questions he had no intention of answering. The stimulant’s full effects were finally wearing off, and his exhaustion had caused some of his combat stimulants to kick in, giving him a temporary boost to his flagging energy that would end up being costly later.

He’d have to sleep for a long time after this meeting, and he had little patience for extended questions. Thus, when Namerian finally entered the office looking distracted, Shulgi didn’t greet him with his usual friendliness. This got Namerian’s attention, and his violet-eyed gaze sharpened as he studied Shulgi.

“I take it things didn’t go well with Zaska?” he asked cautiously.

Shulgi shook his head. “The terms were agreeable and favor both parties equally, so I signed the contract.”

Namerian’s eyes widened. “You signed without discussing the terms with the team first?”

Shulgi paced to the office window, activating the shade so it shut out the bleak sight of the factory district below and the silhouette of the ziggurat in the distance. “I did. There was no need to involve research scientists in the business negotiations.” He shifted his attention back to Namerian. “You have more important matters to concern you.”

Namerian studied his face in silence for a long, tense moment, before finally shrugging, his wings flicking with the only sign that his demeanor wasn’t as nonchalant as he tried to project. “Very well. I suppose there’s no harm in it. You are well aware of Ma’Nah’s requirements, and the special requirements of our mission. If you feel that Zaska can be helpful, then I trust your judgement.”

He wouldn’t be so trusting if he knew about Molly’s effect on Shulgi, and Shulgi was grateful Namerian and his fellow scientists were too distracted to insist on meeting Zaska’s mouthpiece. “Have you come any closer to solving the issue of re-affliction?”

Namerian shook his head slowly, lifting a hand to run it through his hair. “Not yet, though we’ve only encountered that one case so far. We’re hoping it will be a rare occurrence. Otherwise….”

Otherwise, they’d sent males out into the galaxy with the mistaken belief that they could remove their masks safely around females.

“We can attempt the exposure protocol we’ve been discussing.”

Namerian’s upper lip curled at that suggestion. It wasn’t one Shulgi liked either, but it had been used for the professors themselves, allowing them to be afflicted, then cured of the imprinting to better understand the cure itself.

“That means dealing with scent-peddlers again,” Namerian said in a disgusted tone.

“We still have a collection of scent drench. That will last long enough to run trials on current volunteers.”

Namerian moved to the window as if he could still stare out of it, and Shulgi knew it was a favorite position for him as he turned his back to the room to stare at the blind. “There is the other option,” he said, without much hope in his tone.

“It won’t come to that, Namerian.” Shulgi was determined never to allow nanites to rewrite Iriduan genetic code at will.

Namerian couldn’t understand how dangerous that was. He’d never met Ninhursag, or Enki. He’d never seen how much power they had wielded. Power that would be unstoppable if their memories were resurrected again.

Namerian sighed, turning to face him, his eyes dark purple now with his frustration. “Then might I suggest a more radical solution that can speed up the cure?”

Shulgi raised his eyebrows in question, crossing his arms over his chest. “You can make whatever suggestion you want. I’ll listen to any of your ideas, Namerian. I brought you on for this mission because I trust you and know you have a better grasp of this aspect of the mission than I do.”

“There is a… weapon currently in the hands of our enemies. One that is said to be capable of activating the imprinting response in any Iriduan male.”

Shulgi slowly lowered his arms, his mouth falling open in shock as horror filled him. “Can such a thing possibly exist? How would it even work?”

Namerian shook his head. “I don’t have the particulars of how it functions. I am concerned, however, that it might be a variant of the cure.”

“You mean this weapon could be composed of nanites?”

Namerian nodded, his expression neutral. “This is possible, though rather than rewriting our genes, they simply activate the relevant ones.” He stroked his chin thoughtfully. “It would be a far less complex process and program. If they attached to our receptors and replicated various chemical combinations until the victim is afflicted, it would be a simple enough program to create, without requiring the extensive artificial intelligence present in our cure.”

“Who would be capable of creating such an abomination?”

Namerian’s expression was grim. “The Akrellians are currently in possession of it, though I suspect they didn’t create it. In fact, I fear it was our own people who did so.”

“Why would the Iriduans do such a thing?”

Namerian’s short laugh was grim and humorless. “For the same reason we can’t afford to hand the cure over to the empire and let them disseminate it. The elites want to hold onto their power, and the affliction is a useful tool to control the masses. A weapon like this could put an end to any rebellion quickly.”

Shulgi growled with anger and a feeling of impotence against the corruption of the empire and its leadership. If they were responsible for creating this abomination, then their arrogance and lust for power could be the downfall of their own species. “If the Akrellians have gained control of such a weapon, why haven’t they used it yet?”

Namerian strode to his desk, running his fingertips along the smooth surface of it, bringing up multiple screens. “I suspect they have plans to but are holding off to see if the empire self-destructs on its own. The use of such a weapon would make them vulnerable to severe censure from the Syndicate, and perhaps even expulsion. Or dissection.”

“Unless the Iriduans created it.”

Namerian tapped a few symbols on one of the screens before looking up to meet Shulgi’s eyes. “Even then, it would be the ones who unleashed it that would face the consequences. For now, I think the Akrellians are engaging only in small scale testing. We’ve picked up chatter that multiple imperial patrols have gone missing on the boundary.”

Shulgi huffed, shaking his head. “Don’t you mean over it?”

Namerian smirked. “I’m sure they crossed it at some point. Do not underestimate the ruthlessness of our enemies, however. Not to mention their desire to see us destroyed.”

“I assume you have a reason for bringing up this weapon.” Shulgi began pacing again, no longer feeling as tired as he had been.

Namerian swiped over a few more screens, then brought one up, flicking his fingers so it hovered above the desktop, visible now to Shulgi. He saw that it was a star map.

“I found a sample. If we can get ahold of it, I believe we can reverse-engineer it, and using the current tech of our cure, we can make it even more effective, giving us results rapid enough to potentially activate multiple gene clusters before the cure deactivates.”

“So, you think using both this weapon and the cure in tandem will make phase two possible?” Shulgi didn’t like the idea of unleashing such a thing upon unsuspecting Iriduans, but at the same time, if it solved the problem of imprinting, wouldn’t it be worth it?

He studied the star map, noting a familiar cluster as the image zoomed in. “I can put together a team to infiltrate—”

Namerian swiped his hand across the image, dismissing it. “That won’t be necessary. I have some pawns in play in the facility where the weapon is being held. The issue will be getting it safely back to us. We’ve been fortunate that none of our smuggling of scent drench into the dreg was detected, but if security discovers this sample, our mission will be doomed, along with every last one of us.”

Shulgi felt a rush of disappointment at missing the opportunity to head to an Akrellian research facility and execute a strike to retrieve the weapon, even as he wondered who Namerian had in place, and how the professor had made the contacts.

Namerian had never been a part of the rebellion officially, but his sympathies had always laid in that direction. Some members of the rebellion worked directly with the enemies of the empire, especially the Akrellians, who had made overtures to the rebels claiming they would support a coup if the rebels created a replacement Iriduan government that adhered to Akrellian values.

“Zaska’s docks might be the best thing for us,” Namerian said in a thoughtful tone. “We can have the sample sent there, and it’s less likely to draw attention from city boss regulators than on our own tier docks.”

Thinking of Zaska brought memories of Molly to the fore and Shulgi had to quickly turn his back to Namerian as his shaft stiffened, forming a noticeable bulge beneath the fabric of his robe. He regretted not wearing armor, but it would have been strange for him to do so within the factory.

To chase away his untimely arousal, he tried to focus on the monster that owned Molly. The one he fully intended to kill. Namerian’s plan meant he might have to delay his own to obliterate Zaska, since the death of the boss would create chaos in the under-tier. They couldn’t afford that with such an important shipment enroute.

“How long do you think it will take to acquire this sample?”

“A few Kluthian weeks.” Namerian’s tone sounded curious. No doubt he wondered why Shulgi had suddenly turned away.

Shulgi clenched his fists as he pondered leaving Molly in the clutches of that sick monster for even that much longer. “We can’t get it into the docks any sooner?”

“I am pleased you want to begin phase two as soon as possible,” Namerian said wryly, his voice growing louder as he approached Shulgi from behind, “but these things take time. If you really want to begin sooner, there is always the other option.”

“That’s not an option, Namerian.” Shulgi sighed heavily, his wings flicking to wave Namerian away from him. He heard his kin step backwards to avoid their sweep. “I will deal with Zaska and his… minions personally. You let me know when the sample is expected to arrive, and I’ll be certain none of Zaska’s ilk grow too curious about it.”

“Of course,” Namerian said, his tone sounding neutral now, “though there are others on the team who could take over that duty. I know you have more important work to do as well.”

Shulgi waved a dismissive hand, grateful his erection had subsided with the shift in the discussion so he could turn around to face Namerian again. “Minor business matters hardly keep me occupied. Ma’Nah runs smoothly now, and the dreg-masters are respectful enough of my abilities at this point to leave us alone.”

“And what of your other activities?” Namerian’s gaze sharpened on Shulgi’s face, and Shulgi had a sudden fear that the other male had somehow figured out what he’d done with Molly.

“My other activities?” If the professor knew about Molly, he might decide Shulgi was too compromised to see her again and insist on someone else dealing with the under-tier dock situation.

The team would definitely agree with Namerian, even though Shulgi was ostensibly in charge. He couldn’t complete this mission without the rest of them, and they all knew it. They also knew he wouldn’t normally allow personal feelings to compromise their plans. They would expect him to concede and allow another to take his place in dealing with Zaska’s “flower.”

“The black-market smugglers,” Namerian said in a low voice. “I have heard of the phantom killer who stalks the streets of the dreg, taking out the worst of its denizens. One who manages to stay unseen, even while assassinating some of the most dangerous criminals in the galaxy. There are few with that kind of skill set here in the dreg. Few trained for such work.”

“You think it’s me?” Shulgi regarded Namerian steadily, relieved that it was this suspicion in Namerian’s mind, rather than the one about Molly.

“Personal vendettas are risky for our mission.”

Shulgi snarled, his wings expanding behind him. Namerian responded by tucking his own close against his body, lowering his head, though his eyes never left Shulgi’s.

“If such a phantom exists in the dreg, then perhaps he is only there to protect the weakest of the dreg’s citizens from foul predators that would sell them into slavery or sell their body parts on the black market.”

“I don’t doubt the intent of this… phantom’s actions.” Namerian lifted a hand to rub the ports on the back of his neck. “But what we do here is more important, and it would be unwise to bring attention to us, for any reason.” His expression shifted to an imploring one. “If we cure the affliction, then our people will finally be free, and life in the empire will change enough that innocent males won’t have to flee to places like this.”

Shulgi shook his head, folding his wings again as he turned towards the blind shrouded window. “That’s a naïve and idealistic idea. I expected more pragmatism from you.”

“I’m the idealist?” Namerian chuckled as he joined Shulgi in front of the obscured window. “There will always be predators, Shulgi. No matter what actions we take. My goal is to take the prey out of their hunting grounds, because I know I can’t eliminate every hunter.”

Shulgi remained silent, pondering Namerian’s words. The combat stimulants that filled his blood whenever he went into battle or went on the hunt made him hunger for more of the same. Sometimes, the arena didn’t completely sate his need for them. Hunting the evil that attacked their desperate clients did. But he knew Namerian was right. He could make a mistake at any time that ended up being critical. He was unnecessarily risking the mission. The most criminal elements of the dreg might someday track the killer’s steps back to him, and Ma’Nah.

“I can disable your combat glands.” Namerian placed a hand on Shulgi’s arm to draw his attention. “That is the only way you will be free of your addiction.”

Shulgi shook off Namerian’s hand. “I’m not addicted. Besides, I need the edge, at least until we complete our mission.”

“And how many bodies will you leave in your wake before this mission is through, Shulgi?”

Shulgi shot a glare at his kin. “As many as I have to.”