“You’re the best judge of our success,” Fibarre said. “Will this body pass for Bartonese?” The clone’s voice sounded odd, almost synthesized, but his physical appearance was uncanny. And damn creepy.
“I didn’t realize passing for Bartonese was one of your objectives.” He tried to sound calm and nonconfrontational, but he wanted to lunge across the desk and beat Fibarre to an unrecognizable pulp. Thanks to his unique physiology, Malik was now the face of the Gathosian high command!
“Without the limitations of our humanoid hosts we intend to become more proactive. Far too many of our recent challenges should have been preempted, or at least dealt with before they escalated beyond our control.”
“I understand, sir. How can I assist you?”
“Scan my mind. What do you sense?”
Malik hesitated. Was this some sort of trap? Seeing no option but compliance, he lightly scanned the clone’s mind. Energy saturated his receptors, the rhythm hauntingly familiar. “You scan Bartonese. In fact, your energy pattern is identical to mine.” That was an exaggeration. Even with only the lightest of touches he could sense Gathosian energy as well. But Fibarre still seemed subdued. Apparently his showdown with Inwatta had resulted in a lasting weakness. Still, there was no telling how long it would take for him to recover. The next time Malik saw Ra’jen he would reemphasize the need for haste.
“That’s wonderful.” Fibarre grinned and Malik’s stomach knotted. “With just the two of us it will be possible for others to keep track of our whereabouts. But once there are hundreds of us moving freely throughout the sectors, no one will be sure if they are being observed by one of us, or you.”
Once there were hundreds of copies of him running around there would be no reason to keep him alive. Well, they might put him in stasis or cryogenic suspension in case they needed to refresh the template, but he wasn’t a fool. The prototype appeared to be operating flawlessly, which meant Malik’s days were numbered.
“Congratulations on your progress.” He even managed to produce a stiff smile. “May I ask a question?”
“Regarding?”
“Your host body.”
Fibarre’s gaze narrowed and Malik thought he’d refuse. Then the Gathosian said, “Considering your contribution to the project, I suppose curiosity is understandable.”
“How functional are the clones when they are not occupied?”
Fibarre paused to stroke his chin, a gesture Malik frequently employed when he was contemplative. “When not occupied the clones are only able to obey rudimentary commands. They are not sentient beings. They are biological containers, nothing more.”
“I see.” Diffusing his signal, Malik immersed himself in Bartonese energy and flowed deeper into the clone’s mind. “The likeness is disconcerting. I was just curious.” He sensed no flicker of awareness, no emotions, no individual thought. As Fibarre claimed, this was a husk, a biological puppet, useless on its own.
“Have you made any progress with the ambassadors?”
Unwilling to press his luck, Malik smoothly withdrew. “I’ve been unable to substantiate any of my theories. I’ll submit a detailed report as soon as I have facts rather than suspicions.”
“That is acceptable. You should need access to the Hub less often now that I am more readily available.”
Malik carefully schooled his expression, refusing to let his alarm show. If Fibarre cut off his access to the Hub they were fucked. “I have several open investigations that were generated by other members of the high command. Should I bring those reports to you instead?”
“No.” His features scrunched up with obvious affront. “I have enough to do, trying to clean up the mess Inwatta left behind. Carry on.”
“Of course, sir. Is there anything else?”
One of the clone’s dark brows arched and Malik had to look away. Sensing Fibarre’s malevolent personality emanating from a perfect replica of his own body was extremely disturbing.
“You seem anxious to return to the embassy. Are you enjoying this assignment?”
Malik didn’t suppress his guilty smile. “It has been a very long time since I allowed myself to enjoy the amenities of an embassy. However, I have not lost sight of my purpose. I am there to gather information, not indulge my baser needs.”
“It sounds as if you have the situation under control. I will expect your report within the next few days.”
Malik returned to the embassy, anxious and restless. He told Saroji that he needed to speak with Ra’jen but the general had already left for the day. Approaching Ra’jen at Protectorate headquarters would be highly suspicious, so Malik had no choice but to wait.
He shared a leisurely lunch with Saroji in one of the embassy’s private dining rooms. The meal was delicious and the company charming but he was undeniably distracted. Saroji told him about her work at the clinic and how fortunate she felt to have been spared the abuse so many females had endured, and were still enduring.
“Even before Ra’jen was promoted he kept me isolated from the harsher realities of life on a Gathosian-inhabited world. I’ve always felt a little guilty.” They strolled through the walled garden behind the embassy. The afternoon was mild and sunny and the garden seemed untouched by the Gathosian scourge. A bittersweet reminder of another life.
“You saw your world decimated and you’ve been dragged from planet to planet as the cycle repeats. None of us are untouched by this travesty.”
“I know that. And I don’t disagree. We have all been undeniably changed by what the Gathosians have done to our dimension. But if it weren’t for Ra’jen, Summer could have become more than my cover persona.”
His steps faltered and he caught her hands, turning her to face him. “Just the thought of you as a true pleasure ambassador makes me want to tear things apart. Starting with every man who ever touched you, of course. I am so glad Summer was only your cover. I never would have forgiven myself if you’d been subjected to that.”
She stroked her thumbs over his for a moment then slowly pulled away. “I know you mean that and I know you care about me. But why did you stay away so long?”
With a heavy sigh he resumed their trek, emotion thickening his voice. “Do you honestly think I had a choice? The ‘training’ anchors go through takes years, and once the Gathosian is on board…” He shook away the past, refusing to let it taint the present, or the future they were attempting to build. “None of that matters now. Very soon life will change so drastically, all this will seem like a nightmare.”
“You’re very confident all of a sudden.” She slipped her hand back into his and entwined their fingers. “Have you figured out solutions to our challenges?”
Pleased by her emotional return, he lightly squeezed her hand. “I have ideas. Hopefully with some help from Ra’jen they will develop into workable strategies.”
Ra’jen didn’t return to the embassy until late that night. Understanding how important Malik’s information was, Autumn gathered Malik and Saroji into her office before her mate could object.
“Fibarre arrived this morning,” Malik said once everyone was seated. “As I feared, he’s inhabiting the prototype.”
“Who is Fibarre?” Autumn asked.
“He’s the most powerful member of the high command. Most consider him the Gathosian leader,” Ra’jen told her. Then turned back to Malik and said, “Tell us about the clone. Did it look like you, or was your DNA simply the component that made everything gel?”
“The damn thing is my doppelganger. The voice is still off but the outward appearance is downright scary.”
“He can’t be too scary if he looks like you,” Saroji commented with a smile.
“You know what I mean.” He enjoyed her playfulness but they had serious plans to make. He’d encourage her playfulness after they returned to their suite.
“Is this good news or bad?” Autumn rested her hand on Ra’jen’s leg, the gesture unconscious yet possessive.
“There are a few more things you need to know.” Malik looked at Saroji and smiled. He was way past the point of no return. If the Resistance couldn’t pull off this coup he was likely dead anyway. “The last Gathosian I hosted didn’t just die. I took control of him and intentionally dispersed his energy.”
“You’re still alive so I gather the Gathosians don’t realize what you did?” Ra’jen’s gaze narrowed on his face, the silvery gleam sharp and assessing.
“I can do a lot of things they don’t realize.”
“How does your ability help us now? Fibarre is in the clone, not you.” Saroji looked decidedly uncomfortable with the topic. She crossed her legs then uncrossed them, fidgeting and fiddling with anxious energy.
“But the clone’s mind is a copy of mine. I should be able to slip in and take control so fast Fibarre won’t know what hit him.”
“What will that accomplish? They’ll just dispatch someone else.”
Ra’jen wasn’t being argumentative. It was his job to consider every possibility. “Not if I also use the clone to blow up the Hub network.”
That brought interest back into the general’s expression. He scooted to the edge of his seat, gaze focused entirely on Malik. “The clone has your DNA as well as Gathosian energy. Will he still have Gathosian energy if you ‘disperse’ Fibarre?”
“Yes. If Fibarre is dispersed from inside the clone, residual energy will infuse every cell in the clone’s body. If it’s possible I’d like to destroy the other clones while we’re at it.”
Ra’jen laughed. “Now you’re being greedy. If you set your goals too high you’ll doom us all to failure.”
“Without a Gathosian operating it, the clone is basically a biological robot. It will question nothing it is ordered to do. I’ll tell it to set one bomb down in the Master Hub and then take the other and return to its home. We’ll have both rigged with timers or we can detonate them remotely. As long as you have an explosive scanners won’t detect, this should work.”
“You make it sound so simple,” Saroji muttered. “Life never works that way.”
Apparently energized by the possibilities, Ra’jen stood and began to pace the breadth of the small office. “We’ll have two thousand doses of the antidote ready by Friday. All of my officers are on standby.”
“Will the general population be willing to wait once they hear that there is a stable antidote?” Autumn remained seated but her gaze followed her mate.
“What choice do they have? Do you honestly think one person on Earth will lift a finger to help the Gathosians?”
“The initial surge won’t be the problem,” Malik agreed. “The real challenge will be maintaining order once the Gathosians are driven out. We cannot allow the Protectorate to become our new masters.”
“I’ll make sure my men understand their new role.”
“Has your reluctant ship’s captain been given the formula? He must pass it to the other dimension before I blow up the Hub.”
“Not yet but I’ll see to it personally.”
Malik accepted Ra’jen’s assurance with a stiff nod. “If you distribute the antidote on Friday I suggest we make our move the following day. I’ll return to Fibarre, pretending to make my final report on the embassy spies. I’ll take control of the clone and send him back through the Hub. The subsequent explosion will be your cue to attack.”
Chapter Five
Saroji and Malik spent the next three days enjoying each other’s company and exploring the passion that erupted each time they touched. They used the playroom to help them discover new pleasures and delve deeper into familiar territory.
Though Saroji understood Malik’s need for control and reveled in the freedom it provided her, she also longed for the softer, slower encounters when they lingered over each caress and lost themselves in each other’s eyes.
He was on top of her now, peppering kisses across her features while he steadily pumped between her thighs. Her hands were unbound for a change and she took full advantage of the novelty, stroking his back and squeezing the tight curves of his flexing ass.
She felt complete, at peace for the first time in her life. The battle had yet to be fought yet already she’d found contentment.
His thoughts and emotions flowed through her mind, as familiar as her own. He wanted to be gentle, to fulfill her need for tenderness. But he was holding back. He was restless and hungry for wilder, darker pleasures.
She framed his face with her hands and gazed deep into his eyes as she smiled. “Let me turn over. I want you to finish in my ass.”
Lust blasted into her mind as he closed his eyes and groaned. His cock jerked inside her and his entire body tensed. “Damn it, woman. I just about lost it.”
She pushed to her elbows and watched as he pulled out. His long, thick cock gleamed with her cream and his balls were tight and snug against his groin. “Then we’d just have to start over.”
He flipped her onto her stomach and drew her hips up so she could fold her legs beneath her. “Don’t move.”
The bed dipped a bit as he crawled off the side but she obediently remained as he’d positioned her. He was probably retrieving a bottle of lube from the playroom. Anal pleasures had become a regular part of their sexual repertoire but he was always careful not to hurt her.
Another shift in the mattress announced his return. Then his fingers traced a teasing path from the base of her spine, along the crack separating her ass cheeks and into the soft folds between her thighs. She held perfectly still and experienced each tingle to its fullest. He frequently used silence to build the tension and heighten anticipation. It was a technique she was quickly learning to appreciate.
She closed her eyes and concentrated on the sensations he was creating and the steady flow of emotions pouring into her mind. He found her body pleasing but his desire went deeper. His need for her was more widespread. He wanted her, all of her, forever. And her desire for him was just as profound.
His cock pressed against her pussy and something smooth and slick positioned itself at her other opening. She raised her head, trying to see what he was using. It felt different than his fingers. He flashed a wicked smile and drove inward with slow, steady pressure.
“That feels…” She gasped. “What is that?”
“A new toy.” His voice sounded gravelly, almost harsh. But she could sense his struggle for control. “If you don’t like it I won’t use it again.”
She wasn’t sure how it was connected but it moved in tandem with his cock. His hands steadied her hips and each firm thrust of his pelvis drove both shafts deep into her body. Saroji knew men sometimes shared a woman and created this incredible fullness. Malik liked to finger her ass while he fucked her pussy, but this felt much more like two cocks.
“Now who’s distracted?” Reaching down with both hands, he palmed her breasts and pressed against her back as the dual shafts stretched her. “Do I need to bring you back into the moment?” He rolled her nipples, the firm pressure just short of a pinch.
“No Sir.” She braced her knees and lowered her head. “I’m with you now.”
He pulled back slowly and the distinct slide in both passages tore another gasp from her lungs. She showed him how well she enjoyed each sensation, how arousing she found the new toy.
One of his hands moved between her thighs, lightly massaging her mound as he fucked her from behind. She let go, surrendering to the new sensations as the building intensity swept her along.
“So good,” he muttered, his hips pumping faster. He moved his hand to the back of her neck, his fingers firm yet careful.
She braced her legs and took him as deep as possible, wanting everything he had to give. Pleasure rushed up to meet her, shooting through her body like a sensory geyser. Her inner muscles contracted around his cock and the toy while she trembled beneath him.
Malik cried out, surrendering to his own release. He shuddered and moaned as his seed burst out of his cock in rhythmic spurts. He rubbed her back and sides, everywhere their bodies weren’t pressed together, obviously in no hurry to separate.
“I want to go with you tomorrow.”
Saroji’s casual statement jarred Malik out of his tranquil haze. His body still tingled with aftershocks from their powerful orgasm and already she was thinking about tomorrow. “Not a chance. There’s no reason for anyone else to be at risk.”
Her determination blazed through his mind for a moment before she pinched off their link and withdrew. “You’ve been here four days. If you return with nothing to show for it, won’t Fibarre become suspicious?”
He pulled out with a muttered curse, unable to think with her warm body surrounding him. “I won’t put you in danger.” She rolled to her side and met his gaze. Her expressive eyes were nearly as distracting as her naked body, so he looked down and unfastened the toy. “I’ll submit a detailed report. That’s all he’s expecting.”
“I’m a trained operative, as well as being half Bartonese. I can help you, if you’re not too stubborn to admit you need help.”
Leaving the toy on the mattress, he crawled off the bed. “I don’t know that I’ll need help. If Fibarre is as weak as he seems this might be no big deal.”
“And if he’s not, you’ll wish you had backup!” She sat, dragging the sheet up to cover her nudity. “I’m coming with you.”
Malik planted his fists on his hips and glared at her, scrambling for a logical argument. Every fiber of his protective nature balked at putting her in danger, but she was right. Fibarre would expect results. Four days was more than enough time for Agent Wanatee to unravel any mystery.
“Fibarre enjoys interrogating prisoners.” His stomach knotted a bit tighter with each word he spoke. “I can ask for his assistance but we need to be somewhere private. Every corner of the detention center is under continual surveillance.”
“Tell him our web extends much further than you ever imagined, that you’re not sure who you can trust.”
He nodded, allowing his mind to temporarily silence his heart. His personal feelings for Saroji could not skew their strategy. This was bigger than either of them. “I’ll ask him to meet me in a lesser-used interrogation room—one that just happens to be a lot closer to the Hub than the detention center.”
“Are you sure he won’t see through that?”
“The Hub’s location was chosen because of its seclusion.” He shrugged with a nonchalance he didn’t feel. “If he objects I’ll improvise.”
“No, we’ll improvise.”
Accepting the distinction with a smile, he surrendered to the inevitable. “We’ll improvise.”
The following morning dawned clear and bright. They’d both been too anxious to sleep so they’d spent much of the night talking and making love.
Ra’jen assured Malik that the rebels within the Protectorate were ready to attack as soon as he gave the signal. Saroji suggested they omit the fact that she was participating in the mission. Having borne the brunt of one of Ra’jen’s overprotective outbursts, Malik was quick to agree.
“Well, here goes.” With Saroji standing out of camera range, Malik entered Fibarre’s personal code into the companel.
A young blonde woman appeared on the display, neatly dressed in a Protectorate uniform. “Master Fibarre’s office, how may I direct your call?”
Master?
All the other sector leaders were referred to as supervisors. “Master Fibarre is expecting my call.”
She manipulated the display for a moment then said, “Enjoy the rest of your day.”
Her image faded as Fibarre’s appeared. “I was expecting this report in person. I will not extend the duration of your mission.”
“That’s not the purpose for my com.” He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Is this link secure?”
Fibarre’s brow knitted and he turned his attention to his desktop for a moment before he said, “You may speak freely now.”
“I’ve arrested one of the ambassadors. I believe she’s a central player, if not the mastermind behind the entire network.”
“And yet you have not delivered her to the detention center. Is there a reason for your breach in protocol?”
“She is Saroji, General Noirte’s sister.”
“Are you implying General Noirte is involved with these spies? That’s ridiculous.”
“I would have believed so too, sir, if his sister had not presented herself to me in a provocative costume, claiming to be an ambassador. I’d rather not get into the details over a comlink, but I have reason to believe that highly placed members of the Protectorate are involved in this mess.”
“Then you can’t take her to the detention center.”
“I agree. There are several rooms on sublevel two that were used for interrogation before the detention center was completed. It’s my intention to continue my investigation there. I would appreciate your assistance. She has some very unique mental shields. If I didn’t know better I’d suspect she has Bartonese blood.”
“Fascinating.” He tapped his finger against his lips then said, “I’ll meet you on sublevel two.”
Malik inclined his head and the display went blank. He deactivated the companel just to be sure then turned to Saroji. “He took the bait.”
“And all you had to do was reveal several of the Resistance’s most closely guarded secrets.” She took a deep breath, her gaze unreadable.
“After today there will be no more need for secrets, and there will be nothing left to resist.”
“We’ve been planning this for so long. It doesn’t seem real that it’s finally happening.”
He pulled her into his arms and kissed her, pushing reassurance and tenderness into her mind. “He’ll sense a mind link, so I won’t pull you into the fight unless there is no other choice.”
“You’re the only one who has been able to best them. I’ll gladly follow your lead.”
* * * * *
Saroji walked beside Malik down a long, narrow corridor in the basement of the Pentagon. They had no way to be certain they weren’t being observed, so she tugged against his hold on her arm and did her best to look petulant. Her wrists were cuffed in front of her but a simple release lever would allow her to shed the restraints in a matter of seconds.
A door on the right opened and a man stepped out into the hall. Her steps faltered and she gasped in feigned surprise. “What the… Why does he look exactly like you?”
“Don’t let my appearance fool you,” the newcomer said. “I’m Agent Wanatee’s superior in every way.”
“You must have taught him humility. He’s an arrogant prick too.”
Fibarre chuckled and looked at Malik. “This should be amusing.” He turned and retraced his steps, leaving the door open.
Malik dragged her into the room, kicked the door shut and casually set his backpack down against the wall. “She’s stubborn, hotheaded and she enjoys provoking her captors.”
“That’s because my captors are spineless monsters who enjoy torturing women and children!” She glared at Malik and then Fibarre. Thank God their clothes were different. It would be way too easy to confuse the two.
Malik released her arm and stepped back as Fibarre advanced toward her. “Is your brother part of the Resistance?”
She scoffed. “As if I’d tell you.” Pain stabbed into her brain, driving her to her knees. She screamed and raised her bound hands, pouring energy into her shields. The pain ceased as quickly as it had erupted and she fought back the nausea rolling through her belly.
“You’re right. Her energy pattern is unusual.” Fibarre circled her as he rudely probed her mind. Suddenly his head snapped toward Malik and he demanded, “What the fuck are you doing?”
Malik didn’t answer. His eyes were narrowed, his lips compressed as he focused on his task. Fibarre flew at him, arms flailing with wild punches and ineffective slaps. Malik deflected the blows and maneuvered the Gathosian into the nearest corner.
Emboldened by Malik’s progress, Saroji rid herself of the cuffs as she struggled to her feet. The clone was not their enemy. They had to siphon Fibarre’s energy until nothing remained. She moved closer to the men and tried to slip into Fibarre’s mind. The Gathosian flung her backward with a vicious growl.
Feed me. Energy.
Malik grasped Fibarre’s throat as the Gathosian began to struggle.
Saroji linked with Malik, gasping at the tempest raging inside his mind. He was silent and still but Fibarre was bombarding him with excruciating sensations. She remained distanced from the pain and poured energy into Malik’s being.
Fibarre’s screams echoed through her mind and in her ears. He twisted and clawed at Malik’s hands but Malik’s attention never wavered.