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DEEDECK DESIGN
Chapter 15
Moira knew she’d be seeing Jax’s seductive smile in her most restless dreams. She was having trouble getting it out of her mind as it was, the image of those sexy, dark eyes and inviting mouth superimposing over the zone data she needed to analyze. She supposed she shouldn’t have teased him. He’d just been replying in kind, though in a different form.
She shifted in her seat with a sigh, rubbing fingertips hard over her eyeballs. Then she blinked the resulting stars and bleariness away, trying to focus on her work. She couldn’t afford to be distracted by the man’s unsettling behavior. He seemed to take a malicious delight in flustering her however he could, and she shouldn’t start thinking he meant any of it. He seemed more the type to enjoy fun-loving, voluptuous blondes, not serious, way too driven, drab and skinny doctors.
And if her libido danced and did tricks every time he was near, that was just too damned bad. Even if he was interested, she had no business getting involved with him. Both the pandemic and the murder attempts were enough to keep her occupied, but even if she’d met him elsewhere under calmer circumstances, she had a strong feeling that he’d be trouble. She wasn’t the type to do a quickie affair—aside from her physical attraction, she was unnerved by her increasing attraction to his competence, strength, and quicksilver humor. Illusions of safe harbor. Illusions of finding a man who could compliment her, complete her.
Her previous failed experiences with lust and love had taught her that trust, safety, and commitment were illusions. Especially so with men like Coltier—she knew his type. Her work was the only constant she could count on.
With that in mind, she fixed her attention on the data and focused only on Coltier’s interest in the zone. After he’d knocked her off balance with that devastating smile, he’d led her through a series of questions that had sparked some of her own. Like who exactly was in charge at the site? Why hadn’t normal isolation procedures been followed in the beginning? Bante had the usual diagnostic equipment, so why hadn’t they figured out the etiology of the disease right away? Why couldn’t they pinpoint how it was spreading? And why couldn’t they get her any more than sketchy data on the virus? The combination of questions added up to incompetence and negligence at the very least.
She was also concerned that she couldn’t reach anyone, either at the DDEC or the hotzone. It wasn’t the ship’s communications system, because they were still able to reach the transfer station and Coltier remained connected to his people in both galaxies. Ever since they left the station, she’d been unable to get through to either Bante or the DDEC, as if both locations were ignoring her calls. All incoming data had also ceased, making her increasingly nervous.
“Connie,” she murmured without looking up from her display. “Has Coltier had any luck contacting anyone at the DDEC?” He’d put someone called Nat on the assignment, assuring her that if anyone could get DeeDeck talking, it was his assistant.
“No, ma’am,” her constant companion responded in a regretful tone.
She was about to ask why not when the com beeped an incoming transmission. She allowed it through with a surge of anticipation, only to frown in confusion when she saw the person on her display. “Jaime?”
“Dr. Bannen, hello. Am I interrupting?” the self-effacing transfer tech asked with his usual anxiety.
“It’s all right. What is it?”
“I was just wondering…um, since you usually ask for a replacement clone ahead of time, but your other clone is deceased…”
“Oh, thank you! I’ve been so preoccupied, I didn’t think of it. Yes, please start the cloning process again. I’d like to have a replacement body standing by, just in case something happens to me at the site.”
His face warmed with hesitant smile. “Yes, ma’am. It would be our pleasure. Beta 1 would like to thank you for your continued business.”
“Well, I can’t blame Beta 1 for one person’s aberrant actions. Thanks for contacting me, Jaime. And for saving my life, in case I forgot to say it earlier.” She gave him her best smile, only to regret it when he flushed a deep, alarming red and stuttered incoherently. “Could you let me know when it’s ready?” she asked gently. When he nodded, she said her goodbye and ended the transmission with a wry grimace.
“Who was that?” Coltier asked behind her, and she jumped with a strangled curse.
“Damn it, stop sneaking up on me,” she muttered, shooting him a resentful glare over her shoulder. “That was the transfer tech that saved my neural pattern by dumping me into you. His name’s Jaime…” She hesitated, and then continued with a wince, “I’m embarrassed to say that I don’t know his last name. I really should—he saved my life.”
“Easy to find out. Time for you to get some rest, Doc.”
“Thank you, Nanny, but I’m fine. Just need to stretch my legs.” She fulfilled this statement by getting to her feet, and then stared at him with raised eyebrows. “Which I can’t do unless you get out of my way.”
With a faint, suggestive curl of his lips, he turned to the side, giving her scant space to squeeze by. She considered arguing about personal space again, but he’d already had enough fun at her expense. Pressing her lips together, she gathered enough courage to brush by him, consoling herself with the lascivious thought that at least she could get a quick thrill, maybe even cop a feel on her way by. Before she could proceed with that rather unhealthy plan, the ship rocked under her feet.
Coltier grabbed her upper arm to steady her and barked, “Control, what the hell was that?”
Silence. Moira stared up at Coltier’s hard face in alarm, shifting closer to him without thinking about it. Connie turned and tapped at the com with his thick fingers. Then his big body stiffened.
“Ah, boss? We’ve got a problem.” He turned toward them, meeting Coltier’s gaze, before he moved so that they could see the display. The control chamber was empty. The door to the control chamber was open, and warning lights were flashing all across the control panels.
“Wh-where are the pilots?” Moira asked in a weak voice, feeling her muscles cramp with panic.
Connie tapped the com again without looking away from his boss. This time, the display showed the outer chamber. And the wide open hatch. Beyond it, the deadly vacuum of space gaped in endless threat.
Moira clapped a hand over her mouth, containing her cry of shock and denial. Coltier swore in a flat, emotionless voice, but his hand tightened like a vice on her arm.
“EVA?” Connie asked with amazing calm.
“Suits are all out there,” Coltier responded, gesturing to the airless outer chamber.
“EVA for what?” Moira asked, wondering if they meant to retrieve the bodies. She couldn’t believe those poor people had died without her even knowing it. There’d been no help for them, no witnesses to their demise, just a swift and brutal end.
In a preoccupied, almost casual voice, Coltier answered, “We need to get the hatch closed and reestablish air. That means either manual closure or getting to the control chamber, but they’re both in vacuum.”
“Without the control chamber, we’re gonna run out of air.” Connie added, sounding nearly as offhand as his boss. “The interiors were made to seal off.”
Moira swallowed hard and whispered, “Creator have mercy.” If they couldn’t get control of the pod or if rescue didn’t reach them in time, they were going to slowly suffocate and die.
Maybe the pilots had been the lucky ones.
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