Samhain Publishing

Submission isn’t an option—it’s a full-time job.

A Men in Space story.

Humiliated by the betrayal of his former Master, Lieutenant Benjamin Kraft will do anything to bring the drug czar Tazu to justice—anything but kneel again. Forget passion too. He’d rather risk daily grow-op raids. Then, just when Tazu is finally within reach, an ambush wipes out Ben’s entire squad and threatens the life of his partner—a partner he never realized he cared about, much less loved.

As a member of a former slave race known as starlings, Adam’s speed and strength make him a valuable asset to the police force even as his blue skin inspires prejudice and derision from the other officers. Ben’s always been able to look past that, so what’s changed? Suddenly his partner is rude at every turn. Ben may try to get rid of him, but too bad; Adam won’t be scared off. He has his own reasons for wanting to bring Tazu in, and he’ll do it even if it means putting Ben in his place.

Even if it means acting as Ben’s Master on their next mission: an investigation on a planet where sex is everywhere, and where whips and chains are the norm…

Copyright © 2010 Ethan X. Thomas 
All rights reserved — a Samhain Publishing, Ltd. publication

Ben Kraft swore, every word he muttered a plume of white in the icy downpour, and keyed the ship’s wavelength into his wrist pad one more time. Fried circuits crackled in response. If he was lucky, the high-voltage taser mounted into his other gauntlet would still fire, but the scattered debris of their zip bikes said luck had already run out. Twisted metal littered the forest floor, splattered with carnage even the rain couldn’t wash away. When he could finally radio the ship for reinforcements, he would retrieve the bodies of his men. Until then, all Ben could do was curse himself and keep slogging through the mud.

Adam waited ten paces ahead. He pushed up his goggles, and pure black eyes peered at Ben through sheets of falling water. After three years with Adam as his second-in-command, Ben hardly noticed the starling’s lack of whites anymore.

Adam raised a feathered eyebrow. “You all right?”

Ben growled assent. I should have suspected an ambush, he thought, and drew his mental shields tighter about him. The symbiot implanted at the base of his skull flexed with the effort, shifting against his spine. Ben rubbed at his nape until the tiny, star-shaped creature settled again. As a police officer, he needed its short-range telepathy and other gifts, even enjoyed them from time to time, but the last thing he wanted now was Adam’s own starfish picking up on his guilt.

“Too late,” Adam quipped silently, and flashed a grin. “You’ve always been a loud thinker.”

Despite himself, Ben smiled faintly in return. They fell into step. “Any idea how much farther?”

“We should reach Tazu’s grow-op by morning.”

Ben’s smile grew rigid at the name. He doubled the barriers in his mind and thrust old memories behind them, concentrating on the squelch of steel boots in the muck. If he listened hard enough, the past would disappear. If he imagined what confronting Tazu Masato would bring—

Ben stopped. Invisible fingers, their touch nearly too light to be felt, probed at the walls surrounding his thoughts.

“You all right?” Adam asked again, quieter this time. Armor-clad fingers brushed Ben’s elbow.

Ben jerked away. “I’m fine. Now stay out.”

“Sure,” Adam snapped back. “Our squad’s wiped out, so you might as well stomp loud enough to wake the dead. Kill us both too, right?”

Ben stared. Adam regarded him with head cocked, a single dark feather curled up from his soaked crest in a question mark. The starling’s skin gleamed like wet steel, nearly the same shade of blue as his body armor. Stubborn lines framed Adam’s full mouth, but they did little to age his youthful face.

“I’m faster than you,” Adam continued. “Stronger.”

Ben eyed his second-in-command. Adam still possessed a boy’s round cheeks, but his armor accentuated the broad shoulders and narrow hips of a man’s frame. He towered over Ben, every inch of his body comprised lean muscle. If starlings hadn’t been made for flight, they had certainly been made for sex.

Ben’s lips twitched. He crushed the thought. “And better looking than me, right?”

“Lay off. You need me, Ben. And I have as much reason to hate Tazu as you do.”

Ben laughed, though he tried not to do so. He wasn’t about to compare miseries. The sodden lining of his armor hung heavy on his bones. He wondered briefly if Adam felt as cold and wrung out as he did. He doubted it, given that Adam was twenty-eight to Ben’s bruised and aching forty-four. Spiritually bruised and aching, anyway. His symbiot cured everything else.

Adam’s face darkened, frustration bringing navy to his cheeks. He opened his mouth as if to say more, then froze, his posture that of a bird about to take wing. “Do you sense it?”

Ben blinked. “Sense what?”

“Someplace dry.”

This time Ben’s laugh held more warmth. “Are you suggesting we stop to rest?”

Adam waggled his eyebrows. “No better time than the present to choke down our rations, am I right?”

Ben sighed. If he closed his eyes and reached out with his symbiot, he could see it too: a cave just beyond the next ring of trees.

If they were lucky, there wouldn’t be a bear in it.



“I would have preferred a damn bear!” Ben screamed. He leapt, swinging his gauntlets in a wide arc, and the bronze heads of a half dozen bots rolled across the citadel floor. The weight of his boots crushed two more into the stones as he landed, but the citadel’s robotic defense squad kept coming. With each unit destroyed, another battalion teemed into the grow-op’s narrow corridor, pushing he and Adam farther back and farther apart.

Ben grunted, dragged to his knees. Another robotic wave surged forward, tearing at his armor. Metal fingers scrabbled at his chest plate, stabbed at his ribs. In another moment they’d have his heart, and even his symbiot would be unable to repair the damage then.

“Brace yourself!” Adam bellowed, lost somewhere in the melee.

Ben never saw the bots fall. A sudden blast from Adam’s gauntlet filled the corridor with light, and shrapnel rained down a heartbeat later, pinging off Ben’s own weapons and goggles. When Ben’s vision cleared, a single bot twitched beside him on the floor. The last of Adam’s taser-bolt’s charge played over its skeletal limbs. Ben struggled to his feet and kicked the thing, hard.

“Ben,” Adam warned, “we need their program…”

“We won’t get anything if we’re dead. Can’t you hear more coming?”

Adam tensed, listening. He nodded sharply once, plumage bobbing and sweat dripping down his face, and then took off for the stairs at the end of the corridor. Footfall clanked behind them even as they climbed to the grow-op’s next level. Red and white somata mushrooms clung to the citadel’s damp walls, ready for harvest.

Ben pushed ahead of Adam. Beneath his battered armor, every hair on his body rose. Sheer instinct or another of his symbiot’s gifts, he no longer cared. Something—everything—about this mission had gone terribly wrong. Foreboding crawled over his skin. He had lost his men and he had lost Tazu, if Tazu had ever been here at all. What would slip through his grasp next?

Panting, Ben reached the top. Where intel said the citadel should have another floor stood a balcony, the forest spread beneath its crumbling balustrade in a wild, emerald swath. If not for the metallic footfall echoing behind them, Ben would have marveled at its beauty, but not now. No symbiot could save them if they fell.

Without hesitation, Ben began to unbuckle his chest-plate.

Adam’s eyes grew large. “What the hell are you doing?”

“You’re smaller than me. Thinner, anyway. Slide this over yours and it might shield you from the blast.”

“Shield me from the—what blast?”

The last catch on Ben’s armor gave way. He tossed the pockmarked plate to Adam, and Adam caught it, ebony eyes wide.

“Tell the chief it’s my fault,” Ben ordered. “Forget what the intel said, I should have foreseen this. Of course the grow-op would be full of bots. Tazu has never dirtied his hands before.”

“Ben—”

One by one, bots poured onto the balcony. No conscience shone in their eyes. Whatever programming they had focused on farming somata and killing whoever invaded those farms at any cost. Like Adam.

Ben put his head down, punching the destruct code into his gauntlet as quick as he could. “Put the armor on.”

“You can’t do this,” Adam pleaded.

“Now!”

Ben flung the gauntlet. It wouldn’t fire, he knew that. He’d tried it twice. Instead it exploded with a roar of lightning and flame, its shell and the bots that had surrounded it flung in every direction, neither whole any longer.

Metal streaked past Ben, pierced his chest. He groped at his bare skin, felt sticky wetness, but there was no time to examine the wound. Ben felt the gushing beneath his hand in the same instant he staggered back. He stumbled onto the balustrade behind him and it gave way in a shower of ancient stone.

Above him, Viridian’s two suns rode high in the sky. Until that breath, Ben hadn’t realized the rain had stopped. The wind tore at him, as undeniable as the pain, and just as unimportant. This was what it was like to fly. He felt no fear. He felt only—

“Adam.” The name slipped free before Ben could forbid it, before he knew it was there to forbid at all. Terror surged through him, and he scrambled wildly at the air. He gasped. Blood bubbled up past his lips.

“Ben!”

“Adam…”

Too far away to save him, Ben’s partner stared down in horror, arm outstretched.

Another blow, wrenching, and then darkness.

Locked hands compressed Ben’s chest again and again, so heavy he was certain his ribs would crack. Then, when there should have been peace, fingers lifted his chin and a mouth claimed his own. Breath forced its way down his throat. A tongue touched his.

A tongue? The man above him explored everything. He traced the ridges of Ben’s teeth, drew patterns on the soft insides of his cheeks. Ben moaned, and his lover plunged deeper still, demanding more.

Ben let his head fall back, responding to the kiss. How long had it been since he’d had a man atop him? Years, surely, since one had spread his legs, had rocked against him like this. Hardness nudged Ben’s hip. Sparks shot through him with the contact, and he struggled to grasp the naked body pressed to his, his touch skimming over strong, tight muscles. At long last, Ben seized one of the hands that caressed him and led it to his groin. “Adam. Adam, please.”

“Please, what?” Ben’s lover pulled back. A mane of chestnut hair framed his face, graying at the temples. A smile unfurled in the darkness of his goatee, as bright as a freshly polished sickle and just as sharp.

Tazu bent to kiss Ben again, the twist on his lips going rancid. “My beautiful pet. Did you think I’d ever let you go?”

Ben screamed, but only a gurgle emerged. He clawed at the face above him. Almost at once the flesh beneath his nails lost solidity, taking the dream with it, abandoning him in eye-searing brightness.

“Wuh—” Ben tried again to speak and couldn’t. His stomach jerked against the tube thrust down his throat. He tore at the medical tape that held it in place, and then dragged it out, pain burning through his esophagus, through his shoulder. The tubes in his hands were easier, but just. He fell back against the mattress beneath him, chest heaving. Alarms shrilled around him.

The distorted face of a nurse swam by. A hospital, then. He was in a hospital.

Ben lunged for her and nearly fell out of bed altogether. His fingers trembled around her wrist. “My partner—did my partner make it?”

“An officer is already waiting for you. Should I—?”

“No.” Ben coughed and flecks of blood dotted the white sheet spread over his lap. He looked away from them quickly, meeting the nurse’s eyes again, but could not hold her gaze. He released her, face aflame. No matter how wounded, officers did not behave like this. He did not behave like this.

Her own color high, the nurse shut down the protesting equipment piece by piece. “You have your symbiot to thank,” she said crisply, “not us. All we did was patch up what it couldn’t.”

“That’s saying something.” Without thinking, Ben reached for the back of his neck, and pain flared in his shoulder again. He winced.

Her expression softened slightly, and she took up his arm to hold two fingers against his inner wrist. “Don’t worry. Your symbiot pulled through too.”

Ben nodded dumbly. He let the nurse help him into the ill-fitting gray and white shift, and then lay back again. The bed was softer than it should have been, far too soft for a police medical bay. Only civilian hospitals provided care like this. Being in one meant his injuries had been very massive. And Adam’s?

“I’ll go get the other officer,” the nurse whispered.

“No need.”

Ben frowned before he could help it, recognizing the voice at once. Nashiim stood in the doorway with his arms crossed, one armored shoulder set against the jamb. Goggles stood out against his dark pate like a second set of eyes, just as accusatory as his first.

Ben dipped his head. “Chief.”

Nashiim raised a gloved hand and the nurse drifted into the hall without a word. He didn’t look back at her. “Pleased you pulled through, Lieutenant Kraft. Do you know where you are?”

Ben’s frown deepened. “In the hospital, obviously. Did I hit my head?”

“You might think so, with how poorly the mission on Viridian was executed. You lost many good men.”

“Adam,” Ben said quietly. “Is he all right?”

“He brought you back, Kraft. Forget what that nurse said about your symbiot. Starling is the reason you’re alive at all.”

Ben drew a shaky breath, the meaning behind his dream becoming clear. “He resuscitated me?”

“Only fair after what you pulled to save him.” Nashiim settled into the chair beside the bed. “I’m not sure if I should commend you for bravery or suspend you for stupidity.”

“How about you just reassign me?”

Nashiim’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t tell me you’re about to mouth the same nonsense about Sergeant Starling as everyone else.”

“What?” Ben quickly shook his head. “Of course not. Adam’s been on the force for over three years. He’s not the one making mistakes. I am.”

“Cut the dramatics. You two both screwed up. Now you can save face together.”

Ben frowned. “What does that mean?”

Nashiim stood. He unclipped a data-reader from his belt and threw it on the bed. “Congratulations on your recovery, Lieutenant. Start reading.”

Ben stared at the ceiling, silent. Perhaps he slept. What he’d read made more sense as a nightmare than reality.

Footfall echoed in the corridor, as familiar as the contours of Ben’s gauntlets. He smiled before he could stop it. He sat up quickly, smothering the expression behind his hand, and pushed memory away. It had been CPR between them and nothing else. It wouldn’t be anything else. Nashiim could insist they work together, but he couldn’t make them friends.

Adam peered in the doorway, his black tousled plumage haloed by the light. He grinned. “You’re awake.”

“For several hours now. I expected you earlier.” Ben straightened his shift, fighting to keep his cool. It didn’t matter if Adam caught sight of his thighs. They were officers. They’d showered together before. Everyone did. Besides, Adam wasn’t in armor either. A white, synthetic cotton T-shirt stretched tight across his chest, tucked into even tighter jeans.

Damn it. Ben pulled the hospital blankets defensively into his lap.

“I had to fill out about a thousand reports,” Adam explained. “The chief isn’t pleased.”

“I know.”

“Huh. That was quick. I swear he gets off on—” Adam’s smile wavered. “What are you staring at?”

Ben forced himself to examine the shadow that lined Adam’s jaw as a scientist would a specimen on a microscope slide. He’d never noticed the dimples that framed Adam’s mouth before, or the fullness of his bottom lip. “You’ve got feathers on your chin.”

“You’ve been out three days. It’s how starlings grow beards,” Adam explained as he fluffed them down.

“Oh? I didn’t know your kind could.”

“My…kind,” Adam repeated slowly, teeth clenching. The skin between his brows puckered with anger and confusion.

Ben’s stomach rolled at the sight. Doing this, pretending to be a bigot—Ben shook his head. Some things were just too far out of line. He swallowed. “Forgive me. Blame it on the head injury.”

“Not to mention the broken arm and the gaping hole in your chest?” Adam laughed, but the sound came out as natural as plastic, and as brittle. He crossed to the bed. Blue fingers closed over Ben’s hand, squeezing in time with his heartbeat, and lifted away.

Ben bowed his head. “You should leave it,” he murmured.

Adam laughed again, louder now. “Suddenly we hold hands?”

“Your beard. You’re going to need it.”

“What for?”

Ben picked up the device Nashiim had left behind. With a tap he brought up the latest dossier, and showed the screen to Adam. “Our next stop is Granatas. Four senators lifted bans on somata immediately after visiting the planet. It may be a coincidence, but the chief wants us to check it out.”

“We should be after Tazu himself.”

Ben shrugged and immediately wished he hadn’t. The painkillers were already fading. His symbiot would have him completely healed soon, but not soon enough. “Illegal goods and Tazu go hand in hand. You know that. Besides, Nashiim wouldn’t send us if they didn’t think it was necessary.”

Adam sighed. “There’s another reason, isn’t there?”

“You’ve not heard of Granatas, then.”

“Haven’t had much chance to travel,” Adam said thinly.

Ben rubbed at his chin. His own beard had begun to sprout there, its stubble rasping against his fingertips. In the past he would have asked if Adam wanted to talk. The news reports had been only too happy to show the enormous ships that had once been the starlings’ prisons, right down to the bodies of their former captors piled waist-deep in dark corridors. Laid low by a virus, the giants looked vicious even in death. Ben could only imagine the damage their maws and talons could inflict, but the stiff set of Adam’s shoulders said his guess wasn’t far off.

A friend would offer to listen, Ben chided himself. He couldn’t be that friend.

“Granatas,” Ben continued, “is one large resort.”

“What’s that got to do with anything? Grow-ops are everywhere.”

Ben sighed. “You wrote the reports, Adam. How many mistakes did we make on Viridian? Nashiim’s not going to give us a bust any time soon.”

“But we’re vice.” Adam’s cheeks flushed navy.

“You don’t need to come. You could complain. You could… You could be reassigned, stay here on Polis.”

Adam turned to the hospital window. The city night spread out before him, its skyline like a thousand tiny gems stitched into velvet. Ships passed back and forth, soundless in the darkness. Eventually he shook his head. “No. Not with Tazu still free.”

Ben let out a long, shaky breath through his nose. He did not realize until that moment that he’d been holding it. “All right.”

Adam looked back at him. The black mirrors of his eyes reflected the city’s glitter. “Now what does this have to do with my beard?”

“We can’t stroll up to the Granati and ask them if they are manipulating senators, can we?”

“Of course not.” He scratched at his chin. “Disguises then.”

Ben nodded, trying to smile. “So shape that scraggle into something presentable, hmmm?”