Switched: Brides of the Kindred 17 (30 page)

Kerov gave a short, bitter laugh.
“If we did that, there would be no plants
or animals left on Tarsia. In very short order the surface of our
planet would look like that of The Swarm’s—it would be completely
overrun by the parasite.”

“
So the whole planet is just, well,
swarming
with it?” Frankie asked. “And there’s no way to kill
it at the source?”

“
Not that we’ve found. Any weapon big enough to kill the entire
Swarm would also affect our own planet—our orbits are too closely
entwined,”
Kerov
said grimly.
“The
best we can do is to keep it from colonizing and engulfing
Tarsia.”

“
How do you do that?”

“
We use Incinerator units, mostly. We have to fly up into it on
blade-wings and burn it from the sky before it reaches the
ground.”
He showed
her a mental picture of a warrior riding on one of the flying war
machines, wielding a flaming incinerator with one hand as he
steered with the other.

“
That looks really dangerous!”

Mentally, Kerov shrugged.
“It must be done. Tarsia must be protected. Not just
our cities and populated areas but the wildlands as well. That is
how I found Ursa—after an un-forecasted Swarm had attacked one of
our forests. Unfortunately, we got the call too late to save
everything.”

His chest felt tight
at the memory of the smoking trees and lifeless creatures littering
the forest floor.

“
I
remember, I was on the ground by then, using a hand incinerator to
kill any nests of swarm threads that had managed to survive. They
will live for hours, looking for a host. When they find one, they
eat until they literally burst and are no more. But it’s better to
kill them before they reach a living thing and
multiply.”

“
Madre de Dios,
they sound awful!” Frankie exclaimed. “What a terrible way to
die! So how did Ursa escape?”

“
She was sheltered by her mother.”
Kerov couldn’t help remembering the pitiful
sight—the huge beast lying dead on the pitted ground—her carcass
riddled with swarm-bores, most of them still smoking. At first he
had thought there was nothing to do but torch the body in order to
kill any remaining Swarm-threads. But then…

“
You heard a sound,” Frankie whispered and he knew she’d been
seeing the scene with him—reliving the memory which was burned into
his brain forever.

“
I
did,”
he
acknowledged. It had been a soft, plaintive cry, as though from an
animal in pain. Carefully he had lifted the mother’s massive body,
being certain not to touch any live Swarm-threads. It had taken all
his strength to lever the huge, smoking carcass up and out of the
way. But the minute he had, a tiny, lavender cub had scrambled out
from beneath the bulk.

Kerov had waited but
there didn’t seem to be any more—just the one. The little creature
went at once to its mother’s head and began poking her with its
nose. When she didn’t move or return the gesture, its crying
intensified until it was almost howling with terror and loss.

“
So you decided to take it home?” Frankie asked. “The
equivalent of a grizzly bear and you just decided to keep it for a
pet?”

“
Not at first,”
Kerov said.
“I
had
intended to take it to
the shelter for orphaned creatures. We have them all over Tarsia as
Swarm-deaths are not uncommon. I knew the local shelter well
because it was the place I had wished to work since I was a young
child.”

He
remembered how it was, picking up the tiny pale purple cub.
Whispering,
“It’s
all right, little one. I know…I know but it’s going to be all
right.”

Kerov had been
intending to take the cub directly to the shelter. But it had
cuddled against his chest, shivering and keening its loss.

“
You’re cold, aren’t you?”
he had murmured to the cub. Bereft of her mother’s
warmth, Ursa was seeking shelter and safety. Blindly, she pushed
her little pointed snout against his chest, still crying that soft,
keening wail.

Kerov had looked
around to see no one was watching. Then, feeling a little foolish,
he had opened the magnotabs that held his shirt together and thrust
the shivering little bundle of fur inside.

Once she felt the
warmth of his skin, Ursa had finally quieted. Cuddling against his
chest with her little sharp claws poking him and her nose cold
against his chest, she slept.

Kerov sighed.
“And there she stayed. For when it came time to take her to
the shelter, I found I couldn’t do it. She had already bonded with
me and I with her. I kept her and raised her until she got too big
for life in my domicile. Then I moved her to the stables and she’s
been there ever since.”

Frankie sniffed
deeply. “That’s such a sweet, sad story,” she murmured and Kerov
felt the sting of tears in his eyes.

“
Are you crying?”
he asked, uncertain how he felt about it.

“
Not nearly as much as I want to. I feel like if you would have
told me that story while I was in my own body I would be bawling
right now,” Frankie admitted. “Those kinds of stories always get to
me—I can’t even
watch
the
commercials for the ASPCA back home. That’s our animal shelter back
on Earth,” she added, explaining. “But somehow when I’m in your
body, it’s not quite as easy to cry for some reason.”

“
I
found the opposite to be true while I was in your body,”
Kerov said
thoughtfully.
“Tears came even when I did not want or expect them. It’s
almost as if your emotions are closer to the surface than
mine.”

“
Do you think it’s a male and female thing? Or an Earthling
and Kindred thing?” Frankie asked.

“
I
don’t know. Maybe a bit of both?”

“
Maybe. Anyway, what made
you
cry?” she asked. “Did you turn on the TV and see one of those
sad commercials? I tell you, they just
rip
my heart out!” She hummed for a moment and then sang
softly,
“In the
arms of the angels—
Oh! No, I can’t even sing the
song
without tearing up!” She sniffed deeply.

Kerov felt suddenly
uncomfortable, remembering what had brought tears to his eyes while
he was in Frankie’s body. It was the information her friend, Lacy,
had unwittingly shared—the fact that Frankie didn’t like the
Kindred and wanted nothing to do with them—especially being mated
to one.

“
Kerov?” Frankie asked and he knew she was waiting for an
answer. But he couldn’t tell her the truth—couldn’t tell her that
no matter how he was beginning to feel for her, he knew she could
never return those emotions.

“
It was nothing,”
he said gruffly.
“A commercial—as you said.”

“
Oh, okay. Sorry.” She sounded slightly offended at his abrupt
tone but Kerov couldn’t help it—he wanted to keep his knowledge of
her true feelings towards his kind to himself.

Anyway, it wasn’t
like they could ever be together. Even if they hadn’t lived
galaxies apart, the State would never sanction such a union. Being
life-bonded to a female he truly cared about would certainly have
interfered with his career performance as a Battalion
Commander.

Those in authority
would point out that such a relationship would make him care too
much about his own life and be unwilling to risk himself in battle.
And they would almost certainly be right. Kerov couldn’t imagine
having the kind of reckless disregard for his own safety it took to
fight The Swarm if he knew he had a soft, curvy, beautiful female
like Frankie to come home to after the battle.

No, far better to
keep his feelings to himself since nothing could ever come of
them.

“
Anyway,” Frankie said, cutting into his dark thoughts. “What
are we going to do? I thought you said you had some people you
could talk to about the whole Switching thing. Do you think maybe
it’s time to ask them for help?”

“
I
don’t—”
Kerov
began but just then the door to the Commanders’ barracks burst open
and Jorn rushed in.

“
There you are!” he exclaimed breathlessly. “I’ve been looking
for you everywhere, Kerov! Don’t you know the banquet is about to
begin? We’re expected at Brigadier Tlox’s table in less than ten
meems and look at you! You look like you just woke up!”

Kerov felt Frankie
gathering herself, getting ready to “be” him as much as
possible.

“
I, uh…must have taken a nap after the review,” she said,
straightening up and making his voice sound deep and authoritative.
“But I didn’t mean to sleep so long—I just woke up.”

“
Oh? Then who were you talking to?” Jorn frowned. “I could
have sworn I heard a conversation going on in here. And why are
your eyes red?”

Kerov bit back a
curse. Had Jorn heard Frankie talking about their Switch? If so,
they could be in deep trouble. He liked his friend and trusted
him—to a point. But there was something about Jorn—something that
Kerov sensed he was holding back. He didn’t feel he could put
complete confidence in his friend when he wasn’t sure what that
was. Switching was equivalent to treason against The State and Jorn
might not be willing to hide treasonous activity from those in
authority—not even to shelter his friend.

“
Oh, I…must have been talking in my sleep,” Frankie said
gruffly. “I had the damndest dreams…” She rubbed her eyes.
“Nightmares, really.”

“
Well, whatever you were dreaming, the reality is going to be
much,
much
worse if we don’t get to
the banquet in time. Now hurry—get up and get changed into your
dress uniform!”

Thankfully, Frankie
had brought the uniform from home. With a little help from Kerov,
she was able to change into it fairly quickly. But there appeared
to be something missing.

“
My chunnel—where is it?”
Kerov said just as Jorn demanded,

“
Where is your
chunnel?”

“
What?” Frankie asked. Then, clearly remembering that they
could communicate via thoughts she added mentally,
“What in the hell is a
chunnel?”

“
A
head covering used only for special occasions. No dress uniform is
complete without one.”
Kerov sent her a mental picture.

“
Oh—you mean the weird, tall metal hat I saw the top Brass
wearing at the review? I didn’t know you even had one of
those.”

“
Well I do but apparently it’s back home at my
domicile.”
Kerov
felt his heart sink. There was no way he could appear at the
General’s banquet without his
chunnel.
It would be almost as bad as appearing without his trousers—a
grave breech of etiquette and a shame he would never live
down.

“
Wow—that’s a lot to pin on a shiny metal hat,”
Frankie muttered to him
mentally.

“
What’s going on? Why are you just standing there? Are
you
talking
to yourself?” Jorn
demanded, breaking in. “
Where
is your
chunnel?”

“
I
was just…trying to think where I left it.” Frankie sounded
desperate. “And anyway, where is yours at?”

“
Out in my vehicle of course!” Jorn looked impatient. “Kerov,
if you make us late…”

“
I
left it at home, okay?” Frankie exclaimed. “So…do you have a spare
one I can borrow?”

“
A
spare
one?”
Jorn looked at her as if she was crazy.

“
You can’t ask him that!”
Kerov growled.

“
What? Why not?”

“
Because each warrior is assigned only one chunnel and it’s a
very private and personal part of the uniform. Asking to wear
another male’s chunnel is akin to asking to wear his
undergarments.”

“
Seriously? I can’t believe this!”
Frankie was looking around, wildly. “I
don’t have mine,” she said to Jorn. “What can I do? I don’t suppose
I can skip the banquet, can I?”

“
After being personally invited by Brigadier Tlox himself?
Hardly! Look—” Jorn ran across the room and seized something from a
high shelf. “Use Slubgum’s. He left it here after being demoted for
losing the battle over the Verda Quadrant.”

“
Ugh!”
Kerov
exclaimed involuntarily. The former Commander Slubgum had been a
slovenly, inefficient male who had deserved to lose his post. The
thought of wearing any male’s
chunnel—
especially Slubgum’s—was revolting.

“
I
know…I know it’s disgusting,” Jorn said, bringing the long, tall,
shiny
chunnel
and
pressing it into Frankie’s hands. “But you have no choice. We don’t
have time to go back to your quarters for yours and you can’t
attend the banquet without one. Just put it on and you can set your
cleansing nozzle for disinfect when you shower tonight.”