Aurora Rising (The Aurora Cycle #1)(87)

“The other GIA agent was like this, too?” Tyler asks.

I nod affirmative. Remembering the way their bodies felt as I hit them. The sounds they made as they fell. Their flesh was … wrong under my hands. Fibrous. Wet. Bones bending like green saplings rather than breaking like dry wood.

“I have come to blows with many Terrans in my time at Aurora Academy,” I say. “These operatives were not human.”

“But they’re GIA,” Cat objects. “The highest arm of the Terran Defense Force’s Intelligence Division.”

“Then your Terran Defense Force may have problems,” I reply.

I can feel Aurora sitting nearby. Her presence is like the light of the sun on my skin. I feel bathed in it, though I try to ignore it, focus on my Alpha’s face and our predicament. But the pull of her is like gravity. A bottomless pool in which I would happily throw myself to drown.

“How does a two-hundred-and-sixty-year-old Octavia settler get into the GIA?” Aurora asks. I can hear the distress in her voice. She knew this woman. Perhaps even cared for her.

“Um, slightly more pressing question,” Fin says, nodding at Auri. “As far as I know, Stowaway here is the only person to have survived a cryo period of more than a few decades. How is a two-hundred-and-sixty-year-old human even alive?”

“I do not believe they were.”

We turn to Zila, who is looking at her uniglass.

“I did not have long to conduct tests,” she continues. “But both these GIA agents showed signs of epidermal degradation consistent with early necrosis.”

“You’re saying they were dead before Kal got to them?” Tyler asks.

“I am saying they showed signs of it, yes.”

“But they were walking and talking?”

“I cannot explain it. Perhaps these growths”—she waves at the silvery leaves sprouting from the agent’s eye—“have something to do with it. Like Betraskan saski polyps or Terran nematomorphs.”

Zila looks around an ocean of blank stares.

“Nematomorphs are parasites native to Earth,” she explains. “They mature inside other organisms, then exert a chemical control over their host’s brain. Urging the creature to drown itself in bodies of water where other nematomorphs breed.”

“And you put on those uniforms anyway?” Cat asks, dumbfounded.

“I thoroughly irradiated the GIA garments first,” Zila replies, unruffled.

“She really likes that disruptor,” Finian mutters.

“I wish we could have brought one of the bodies aboard to study,” Zila sighs.

“No thanks,” Tyler replies, looking at the image on the display in horror. “The further away from those things we are, the better. Maybe it was some virus they picked up aboard the World Ship or something?”

“Doubtful,” Zila says.

“Even if they did, how’d they live long enough to catch it there?” Fin asks.

Aurora is staring, too, her eyes distant, perhaps lost in memories of this woman, this partner of her father, now become her enemy.

“Auri, do you recognize this man?” Scar pulls up the image of the second GIA operative I killed. He is like the first—those strange fronds sprouting from his eye, a cluster of bright flowers growing from his ear and through his hair, the right side of his face glazed with mossy growth. I can see a tracery of fine veins within the leaves, scrawled across the man’s cheeks. Dark as blood.

Aurora bites her lip. “Maybe? He might’ve been an engineer.”

“Another Octavia colonist,” I say.

“Who should’ve died two hundred years ago.” Scar nods.

“He looks good for his age,” Fin says. “All things considered.”

The joke perishes in silence, but a part of me admires Finian for at least trying to lighten the mood. The bridge is quiet, save for the thrum of the engines, the hum of the consoles around us. Aurora is looking at the main display screen, the lifeless skin of these people she knew, the growths sprouting from their heads. I can feel the tremors in her body, feel the fear in her soul. I wish to reach out toward her, to take some of it away. But I resist the Pull with all I have, try to keep the want from my voice as I speak to her.

“The Trigger.” I nod to the statue in her hands. “Does it tell you anything?”

She simply shakes her head.

“We all just risked our tail-sections for that little thingamajig,” Cat growls. “You’re telling me it was for nothing?”

“I don’t know. It feels … right. It’s supposed to be here with me. But I don’t know how to use it.” Aurora shakes her head, looks up at Tyler. “Look, why don’t we just go to Octavia III and check the planet out? If these colonists—”

“We can’t,” Cat interrupts. “Interdiction, remember?”

“Correct,” comes a digital voice from inside Aurora’s dress. “The planet has been off-limits by order of the Terran government for several hundred years.”

“Well, does anyone know why?” Aurora demands.

The device beeps. “According to records, exploratory probes discovered an aggressive pathogen in the atmosphere of Octavia III. Galactic Interdiction was invoked to stop the virus getting off-world.”