Chapter Text
***Chicago***
Caine had tracked the tersie female for a week on her planet. He did not like his orders this time. His contract said that the female had to be awake and that he must tell her he was hired to kill her. So, when he tracked her to her final destination, a shabby clinic in a shabby part of the city, he had to start by rescuing her from a team of assassins. “So, Titus must not be the only one who wants her dead.” He thinks. “It always gets messy when there is more then one contract for an assassination.” Since she is past out from the drugs the assassins gave her, he has to make a new plan. He can not wait at the clinic, more assassins might be on the way, so he dresses her up and gets her out of there and to his hideout, an industrial space in the tallest building in the city. Most assassins can’t fly, and it’s a long way up the tower, so he feels safe there to wait for the female to wake up.
Listening to her breathing and smelling the drugs on her he evaluates she will be out for 10 to 12 hours. Since the contract said he has to talk to her, but chances are she won’t understand what he says, he injects her with a translation implant. That leaves him time to check out who she is. Jupiter Jones. No Commonwealth ID, only an Earth ID. “Why would Titus want a tersie dead? It’s not like she can leave her planet.” He mutters aloud. “A civilian, a tersie civilian.” To be sure he has the right female, he gets the simulated gene-print card out and compares it to her scent. It is a match, but there is something nagging at him about the smell. He shrugs “A contract is a contract.” He tries to convince himself. He never had to kill a tersie civilian before.
He has been up for the last 48 hours, and since the girl is out, he decides to take a short nap himself. “Might as well recharge myself while she is out. ‘cuz this will be hard to do.” So, Caine settles by the door and shuts his eyes. He falls asleep easily and when he wakes up, he feels strange. He has never felt this good. His neural implant indicates that he slept for 8 hours… 8 hours! He never slept more then 2 hours straight. “What is going on?” he thinks. Then he realizes he did not have a single nightmare while he slept. Usually when he sleeps, he only dreams of blood, his old kills and war, it is never entirely restful, at least not for his brain, but this time he dreamt of soft rain, hot beverages and sunsets on the beach. What strange dreams.
A shrug later he checks on the female, she is still asleep, but now it is true sleep, not induced by the drugs. And somehow her scent is different too, it’s like she has two different scents.
“That is so confusing” he says out loud.
The female stirs a little, she will wake up soon, and Caine is confused about what to do. A contract is a contract, but she does not smell entirely like the target anymore. And he does not like the thought of killing a small civilian female. What he needs is information because he does not want to kill the wrong target. That would be bad. He decides to place his mauler near her head and wait for her to wake up. He does not wait long. 15 ticks and she opens her eyes, stretches and an acrid sent of confusion ebbs from her. She clings her eyes and grabs his gun.
– I thought it would make you feel better when you woke up. He says.
– What?
– The gun. It works better if you flip the switch by your thumb.
She flips the switch, and he raises his hands and faces her.
– Careful, you have been asleep for almost 12 hours. He says.
– Where am I? She asks.
– Still in Chicago. He answers.
– Good. She looks around. My clothes?
– You were still in the paper clinic gown…
– Erg, can’t really think about that right now. She cuts him off and shakes her head.
– Look, Jupiter, is that your name? he asks, while handing her, her wallet.
– Yes.
– I need to know what they did to you in that clinic. His voice is serious.
– Well they made me take a sterilizing shower with some stuff that smelled like old fish and garbage. And then put on the gown. Next thing I remember is you shooting them while I tried not to suffocate.
Realization dawns on him. Did they drench her in the gene-print smell so he would kill her? If so, this is bad, very bad. Killing a falsified target is grant for a court-martial and failing to follow orders too. He is so screwed.
– Did it smell like this? He pulls out the gene-print card and hands it to her.
– Eww… yes. Same sewer smell. She says after sniffing it.
– Dang, that is not good. He says.
He turns around to check his FTL comm on the desk and hears her gasping.
– Are you Michael or Gabriel? She asks.
He looks at her, his turn to be confused.
– What?
– What is your name?
– Oh, Caine Wise.
– What kind of an angel name is that?
Caine looks at her startled. He does not know what an angel is.
– What is an angel? He asks.
She fumbles with her electronic device and hands it to him. He scans the data in his sheave and reads it. “Winged benevolent celestial beings who act as intermediaries between God or Heaven and Humanity”. That is so not him.
– Not an angel.
– What then?
– Ok, there is a protocol the Legion gives us for this… It can be hard for people from underdeveloped world to hear that they are not the only inhabited planet in the ‘verse.
– I must be dreaming, must be the anaesthesia…
– Legion protocol actually says that people will say that it is a dream.
– Because a dream is the only thing that explains it.
– Compare to what, the idea that your planet is the only inhabited planet in a ‘verse so full of planet that you don’t even have a number for it?
– You’re an alien?
– A genomgineered human. In my case, my DNA was spliced with something like a wolf, I am a Lycantant. Bred for the military.
– Lycan what? Wolves don’t have wings.
– Lycantant. The wings are military implants, I’m a Skyjacker.
All this time Jupiter still has his gun pointed at him.
– And what do you want with me? She asks.
Here it is, the question he does not want to answer, not with his gun pointed at him anyway.
– If I swear not to hurt you, can I have my gun back before I answer?
She nods, flips the switch back, and hands him his gun. He places it back in his thigh holster and sits on a crate.
– Ok, where to start… my orders… no… So, I’m a soldier. I receive my orders from the Legion. I have never failed a contract before, but I have decided to disregard my orders, because something does not make any sense. You can read my orders here. He hands her a sheave. Turn the middle button to switch language.
CONTRACT # 452187965321
ISSUED BY: TITUS ABRASAX
TO: LEGION
SOLDIER: CAINE WISE
TYPE: TRACK AND ELIMINATE
TARGET: GENE-PRINT CARD
PLANET: EARTH
CITY: CHICAGO
STIPULATIONS: 1) TARGET MUST BE AWAKE WHEN KILLED 2) TARGET MUST BE TOLD BY SOLDIER THAT DEATH WAS SANCTIONNED BY ENTITLED
After reading the contract, Jupiter’s blood has drained from her face. He was hired to kill her, but he said he won’t. And she feels like she can believe him, there is something honest in his eyes.
– Why am I still alive? She asks him finally.
– Because the order stinks. Usually when I get that kind of order, it’s bad people, criminals, escaped convicts, etc. Not small women from a tersie planet, who poses no threat to anyone. Also, the fake smell is gone, so you are not the valid target and if I’d killed a faked target, I’d end up in a court-martial.
Caine observes Jupiter closely. He can smell her calming herself. He hears her deep breath and sees emotions flickering on her face. He is rather impressed by this small tersie female, so far, no panic attack. And she smells really good. Once she is calm, she speaks again.
– What now? Do you have a plan? I’m guessing I can’t go home.
– The only option I can think of right now is to go see Kiza.
– Who’s Kiza?
– She is my CO’s daughter. She is a Marshal for the Aegis. She lives about an hour outside Chicago.
– Aegis?
– They are like cops.
– Space cops… sure why not. How do we get there?
– Well I have a small ship on top of the building, but that would make our position known. I would suggest using a motor vehicle.
– Your mean a car?
– Yes.
While he gathers his equipment, Jupiter observes him. Pointed ears, wolf fangs, blond hair, goatee and huge wings. A least a foot taller then her, well muscled, large shoulders. Not bad she thinks. She can feel herself blushing and as she does, Caine looks at her with question marks in his eyes. She shakes her head to re-center her thoughts. Now is not the time.
When he his ready Caine shows his boots to Jupiter. She seems impressed. She is even smiling. How can she do that, smile at him after she learned that he was sent to kill her? But there is no time to waste now, so he pushes the idea away and asks:
– Ready?
– Ready to fly off a 100th story window with you, your flying boots and your wings?
– This might make it easier, he says, and he grabs her in his arms and passes through a window.
She yelps and hangs on to him hard and when she realises they are not falling, she squirms a little, gasps and looks in awe at the view. Then he turns around to remove the iriser from the window, before slowly flying down to street level. The wind catches in her hair and they whip in his face a little. Some stands end up in his mouth and he can not prevent it. The taste reminds him of his strange dreams: soft rain, hot beverages and sunsets on the beach. Did he sleep 8 hours because she was there? Could her scent be affecting him? He can’t think about that right now! But he likes her smell and her taste.
When on the ground, he put her on her feet and immediately he feels like there is a hole in his chest, but when he looks down there is nothing to see. This tersie is bringing all sorts of weird feelings and sensations in him, and he does not know what they mean. He shrugs, mantles his wings and puts his jacket on, as to not attract too much attention.
– So, I’m guessing we need an untraceable car, she says.
– That would be best, yes.
– Okay so we have to look for an older car, new ones all have GPS.
– What is GPS? He asks.
– Global Positioning System, they track stuff with satellites. She explains.
– Yeah that would be almost as bad as using my ship.
They end up in a nondescript blue car and when they are out of the city on their way to God knows where she gets her electronic device out, he hears her leaving a message to someone named Vladie, about a problem at the clinic and that she would be away for a few days. Then she opens the case and pulls out the battery. At his inquiring glance she simply says.
– This has GPS too.
He nods and she looks out the window.
A few ticks later he can hear her mumbling something, he catches a few words, some curses, but he gets that the words are not all in the same language. Glancing at her again, he takes an exploratory sniff and he acknowledges that she is having a delayed panic attack. Well if this is how she panics, it’s a lot easier than high pitch screaming. And she waited to be somewhat secure before having it.
“Impressive” he thinks.
Her panic attack does not last long, after a few more ticks he hears her taking deep breaths.
– Sorry about that. She says. Bottling everything up always has a way of exploding at the worse time possible for me, so I let it out when I can.
– I understand, he says, because he really does.
Then he gets a whiff of curiosity from her scent, but also awkwardness?
– So, erm, what are they going to do to you for not killing me? She asks. And the question explains her scent.
– Court-martial, he replies sternly.
– So, wait, let me get this straight, you get court-martial if you kill me because I’m the wrong target, but you get court-martial for not killing me, because you disobeyed orders? That is messed up.
– Yes.
– Sounds like someone wants me dead and you out of the way…
He nods.
– Well at least I can thank you for not killing me and being honest. And also, for saving me at the clinic. So, thank you.
Caine is taken aback by her gratitude, and it must show on his face, because next she says:
– What? People don’t say thank you in space?
– Well, they do, but it’s the first time my target has ever thanked me. He replies awkwardly.
She turns her head and mutters something his implant does not translate.
Silence is stretching, not a comfortable one.
From the corner of her eye Jupiter notices that Caine seems uncomfortable in the driver seat.
– What is wrong? she asks.
He looks at her, is she really concern for him?
– Not enough room for the wings.
– Oh… I can help with that. Take your right hand off the wheel a moment.
He does not know what she wants to do, but he wants to obey her. That is a new thing too. He puts his right hand down and she leans over him, reach out on the side of his seat and the backrest recedes.
– Here you go. Is that better? She asks when she sits back.
– Yes, thank you.
The silence returns, but it is not stretched. She simply seems to be thinking and she blushes from time to time. Is she thinking about him? Is she blushing because of him? Maybe, she keeps looking at him out of the corner of her eye.
***Kiza’s place***
When they get to Kiza’s house, it is difficult to miss it. A shabby white house, missing siding and covered in beehives.
– We have arrived. He tells her.
– Good, the sooner we figure this out the better.
They get out of the car and a blond woman exclaims:
– Caine! What are you doing here?
– I need your help Kiza, he says.
– I gathered this was not a social visit. Who is that? And what did you do now?
– Jupiter Jones, Kiza Apini. He says, gesturing from one to the other. And I did nothing.
– So why are you here then?
– False scent. He replies.
At these words, Kiza turns white and exclaims:
– Beeswax!
Caine simply nods.
While they were talking, the bees had come out around Jupiter and started forming a big cloud. Jupiter had never been afraid of bees, there were always a few turning around her, but this was impressive. Of course, she never went out of the city before, and in the city, there are fewer bees. She puts her arms up and starts twirling. The bees have always danced with her in the city, here there are simply a few thousand more.
- Hi guys, nice of you to say hello, she says.
Caine and Kiza are amazed by what they see and Kiza, being in tune with her bees, hears them say “Queen! Queen!” and she feels it too in the part of her that is bee.
Kiza kneels on her front yard.
– Your Majesty!
Caine’s mouth hangs open. He has never met a royal that did not smell like something rotten. But this one still smells of soft rain, hot beverages and sunset on the beach. Still he opens his wings at the proper angle and clench his fist on his chest, in the proper Skyjacker salute, because bees never lie.
– What? Jupiter says. And after a few seconds she adds, Stand up Kiza.
Kiza stands and Caine says:
– That would explain the contract and the false scent.
– Could someone explain what is going on? Jupiter asks.
– Yes, Your Majesty, but we better get inside for that, says Kiza.
– Ok, she tells Kiza. And then talking to the bees she adds, “You have to stay outside.”
Kiza opens the door then stands aside to let Jupiter in. The bees do not follow. Kiza and Caine do and they settle at the kitchen table.
– I am feeling very thirsty; do you have something I could drink maybe? Jupiter asks.
– Of course, Your Majesty. Kiza answers. She gets up to go to the kitchen.
While Kiza is gone, Jupiter raises one finger in the air, folds her other arm on the table and then proceeds to place her head on her elbow and repeats a sequence of words Caine’s implant refuses to translate. He does not need the translation anyway when the smells that emanates from her is a mix of confusion and anger. It lasts only the time that it takes Kiza to come back with a glass of honey flavoured iced tea. And when she raises her head she seems calmer.
– Sorry about that, again. She says to Caine.
Caine simply nods. A royal apologizing to a splice is so backwards…but of course she does not know that yet.
– Thank you Kiza, she says picking up the glass.
– Your Majesty. Kiza says.
After a first taste, she proceeds to emptying the glass like her life depends on it. Wow, she was really thirsty, well it’s not surprising considering everything she has been through.
Kiza had gone out again, and she comes back with some sort of gun shape tool.
– Your Majesty, could I sample your gene-print for verification? The Aegis will not take bees testimony for identification.
– Only if you promise to explain what is going on after that. She replies.
Kiza nods and place the tool on her neck. The probing tool turns green. A green so pure it almost hurt the eyes.
– Wow, I have never seen a gene-print so pure before. Kiza says.
– No wonder they drenched her in that awful smell, mutters Caine.
Then a small display on the tool returns details on the gene-print. Seraphi Abrasax! That is almost impossible to believe.
– I will ping dad with the emergency and Aegis code Caine, if that is okay with you.
Caine nods. Stinger and the Aegis would know what to do.
Kiza goes to her communication device and sends a coded message to her dad: “Hi dad, your baby-bee here. There is too much honey right now, I could use your help with collecting it, please bring your dark and gorgeous friend to help too.”
– Explanation, please, says Jupiter.
– All right. I just asked my dad, who is Caine’s commanding officer, to get here as fast as possible and to bring the Aegis with him. Caine could not contact him himself or the people after you would have picked up the message and know where you are. That is why you came here in the first place, right Caine?
Caine nods.
– Can you explain the bees first please? I have never known why I can talk to them, and why they like to follow me and dance with me.
– I suppose you know nothing about the ways of the ‘verse?
Jupiter nods.
– I can’t start with the bees, it would be too confusing, you need understanding of the ‘verse. First there are 4 castes of living sentient being in the ‘verse.
– Castes?
– Yes castes, there is no equality in the ‘verse, Your Majesty. The Entitled are the highest ones. They rule the ‘verse. Royals are the highest of the Entitled. Then there are the pure humans, who are simply citizen of the ‘verse, then the Tersies, which are humans from this planet and others like it, who don’t know about the ‘verse, and finally the splices, like Caine, my dad and me. There are also the androids, but those are not living exactly.
– Wait, what? You mean splices are lower then Tersies? Jupiter interjects.
– Splices are tools, Your Majesty, we belong to our splicer and then to whomever buys us. Some owners are better then others... Being bought by the Aegis or the Legion grants us more rights then with any other owner. But we are still considered like intelligent animals, not people.
– That is slavery! Let me tell you, slavery is wrong. You are people. “Life is life, whether it’s wrapped in skin, scales or feathers.” Never thought I would have to quote Dr. Franklin.
– Oh, we know we are people, but that is not what the laws say. Dr. Franklin?
– Yeah, from the sci-fi show Babylon 5. Please continue with what you were saying.
– The caste we belong too, depends on our genes. Genes are almost like a religion in the ‘verse. Sometimes a gene-print reappears in the same pattern as before, Earth people would call that reincarnation, in the ‘verse it is known as a recurrence. The gene-print test I did on you tells us that you, Jupiter Jones, are the recurrence of Seraphi Abrasax, the most powerful queen that ever lived, and as her recurrence, you are Entitled to all that was hers. And it would appear that someone has found out about you and wants to prevent you from claiming your title and inheritance. As for the bees, they are not from Earth, they have been created by Seraphi Abrasax herself as a mean to recognise royalty, and that is why they escort you and understand you.
Jupiter then proceeds to placing her head in her elbow again and muttering some more. From Kiza’s reaction, she seems to have the proper translation package in her implant. Kiza looks at Caine and says:
– No Russian translation in your mission package, I see.
Caine nods.
– We’ll fix that later, she tells him. She turns back to Jupiter, when she raises her head up, and asks:
– Your Majesty, are you okay?
– Not by a long shot… but I can’t spare the time for a panic attack right now.
Caine smirks. She is one strong tersie... Queen!
Jupiter turns to him:
– Abrasax, wasn’t that the name on your contract, Caine?
Caine nods.
– Titus Abrasax. He says.
– And who is he?
– Third child of Seraphi Abrasax, and your gene-son, Your Majesty. Says Kiza.
– And the assassins I, erm, eliminated, back at the clinic, wore Balem Abrasax’s colours.
Jupiter blushes at the memory and that is an incredible smell on her. She shakes her head, probably to focus on the present, and asks:
– And who is he?
– Her first child. Says Caine.
– Ok, let me see if I got all this, I am the reincarnation of a dead space-queen, bees are aliens, slavery is still happening in the ‘verse and two of my gene-kids want me dead.
Caine nods.
– Anymore of these gene-kids I should know about?
– Lady Kalique Abrasax, the second child, she would never plot something openly against you. She will most likely want to manipulate you, but not kill you. Kiza says.
Suddenly Caine raises his head.
– A ship is coming! Your Majesty, please come with me, he says. We have to be sure they are the Aegis.
He guides her to a safe-room, places her thumb on the panel, then his.
– Only you or I will be able to open the door now, he tells her.
Jupiter nods, enters the room, and closes the door.
It was not the Aegis… at first.
After what seems like an eternity, there is a knock on the door.
– Your Majesty, this is Captain Stinger Apini. Please open the door, it is safe now.
– Where are Kiza and Caine? She asks.
“This one is not stupid” thinks Stinger.
– Commander Wise and Marshal Apini have been injured while defending you. They are in the hands of the medical team at the moment. Please open the door, we do not have much time. More bounty hunters are on the way.
– How can I know you really are who you say you are?
– What would satisfy Your Majesty? Stinger asks.
– Is there a camera on this thing?
– Yes, let me turn it on.
A display appears in the safe-room and she can see a man with striped hair and huge wings. Well he looks like a bee-splice Skyjacker at least.
– Ok, I see you. Also tell me how did Kiza asked for your help?
– My baby-bee asked for my help collecting her honey and told me to bring my dark and gorgeous friend.
– That sounds about right. She says.
The door opens and Stingers bee-instincts tells him that it is really true, she is a Queen. The Queen!
– Majesty, he says, kneeling like Kiza, but with his fist on his chest and wings flared above his head like Caine.
– Stand up, no time for that, get me out of here before more people come for me.
When they get to the entrance, she gasps at the destruction and sheer number of dead people.
– Caine did all that?
– Majesty, Singer points to the door.
– Right!
Once outside, he guides her to the grav-beam that gets them both inside the Aegis cruiser.