“Okay. I’ll do what I can.”

  Ana gave me a trusting look. It made me feel a bit bad about all the savage thoughts that had been going on in my head lately.

  “I’ll start working on the distillate,” she said, “as soon as we’re done here. Just keep an eye out and make sure no one sees what we’re doing.”

  “Right, right,” I agreed. “Just make sure to keep this between us. I don’t want anyone else getting their hopes up if it doesn’t work.”

  Ana reached out and squeezed my arm reassuringly. “I promise, Devin. We’ll figure this out together.”

  As Ana returned to her work, I couldn’t help but feel a glimmer of hope. If this distillate could help control my mutations, maybe I could regain some semblance of normalcy. But first, I needed to make sure they could create it without anyone finding out.

  As Ana continued working alongside Dr. Sharaf, I couldn’t help but find myself increasingly attracted to Ana. The way she moved, her hot scent, her fierce intelligence, and her unwavering determination were all qualities I admired. My heart pounded in my ears, and I couldn’t stop staring at her while she stooped over the dead cyborgs. Her legs were youthful and strong…

  “Hey,” Ledbetter said, appearing at my side.

  I startled, and he laughed. “If I was a cyborg, I would have just taken you out, Corporal.”

  “I… I was distracted.”

  “No shit. Hey, is it true? What she said?”

  Blinking, I turned to him. “You were listening in?”

  “Dude, I can hear your heart race every time you look at her ass.”

  Clenching my teeth, I thought of a dozen retorts, but I contained them all. “What do you want, Ledbetter?”

  “Is it true? Do these cyborgs carry the key to our mutations?”

  I grabbed up a wad of his suit and pulled him close with my big arm. He was surprised by my speed and strength.

  “Just pretend you forgot about all of that. Let that old fart and Ana work in peace. We need some magic—and some luck.”

  “I’ve got it, Corporal,” he said, shaking me off. “I’ve got it—and don’t worry. I’ve got ears like a cat now, and I don’t like it any more than you like that lobster claw of yours.”

  I let go of him, and he went back to his post. I shook my head, trying to banish a list of strange thoughts from my mind. I told myself I was with Freya, and I reminded myself that Ana was technically a prisoner, while I had a life outside Borag to think about.

  I tried to turn my attention back to the work at hand, but my gaze kept drifting to Ana. When she caught my eye, she gave me a small smile, and I felt a surge in my blood. I quickly looked away, trying to hide the bestial thoughts that were running through my mind.

  Ana noticed, anyway. She didn’t seem to mind—not the way a woman from Mars would. Instead of being intimidated by my interest, she reveled in it and posed to catch my eye.

  For the time being, I decided to keep my attraction to Ana a secret—at least from Freya. I couldn’t make any insane decisions while I was under the influence of alien mutations. It wouldn’t be fair to me, Freya or Ana if I came to my senses after I was cured of my affliction.

  But deep down, I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something special about Ana, something that drew me to her like a moth to a flame. And as much as I tried to deny it, I knew that my feelings for her would only continue to grow stronger.

  Chapter 30: Bitter Brew and Bloodshed

  The days crawled by, and the repair efforts made steady progress. The spacers labored around the clock on Borag. They patched up the damaged hull and got the big ship back into fighting shape.

  My own state of mind steadied, as well. I no longer felt like I was on the verge of losing control all the time. Both these improvements left me with a sense of relief. Maybe we would find our way out of this slice of shit we were stuck in after all.

  It was on the fourth day—or maybe the fifth—when I was on patrol with Red Company that things went sideways.

  We were keeping a watchful eye on our surroundings as the workers continued their repairs. Suddenly, Ledbetter’s voice crackled over the comms.

  “Contact! Freaks incoming!”

  The calm was shattered as we scrambled to prepare for the oncoming attack. Enemy mutants came out of nowhere. One moment, the passages had been clear, and then there was a squad rushing us out of the dark passages.

  I recognized this shambling, loping horde. They were troops from Redgrave’s crew, marines from Shadow’s Whisper. I’d bet my left nut on it.

  How the hell had they gotten so close? Had they been using some kind of stealth field to sneak up on us? Why hadn’t Ledbetter heard them, with his freaky ears?

  I didn’t know the answer to any of the questions that popped into my mind—and right now, none of that mattered. We were all up to our balls in pirates, and everyone had their weapons out, blazing away. Our laser carbines cut down several of the enemy troops as they advanced, but they were tearing us up as well.

  “Keep pushing them back!” Lt. Quinn shouted. “Don’t let them get to the workers!”

  One of our big, slow repair bots blew up. The pirates had planted a charge on the thick chassis and set it off. The bot was totaled—Captain Hansen wasn’t going to be happy about that.

  The fight became less deadly as both sides took cover. We were hunkering behind doorways and equipment. We traded fire and fought with everything we had. Our laser fire and grenades at first kept the enemy at bay—then began to push them back. They were pirates, after all, not gladiators. They wanted to hit and run by surprise, not slug it out with professional troops.

  Private Welks belly-crawled under the ruined repair bot. The enemy was sheltering on the far side of it—and he unleashed a torrent of thermite gel from his flamethrower. He incinerated several of the enemy troops and forced the rest to retreat.

  Then, just as suddenly as they had come, the pirates vanished. They must have reengaged their stealth equipment—however it worked. They melted away and the battle petered out.

  Breathing hard, we looked around and patched up our wounded. Once again, Red Company had prevailed. We were left standing amongst the carnage, our faces sweating and our armor scorched.

  “We did it,” I panted, surveying the battlefield. “We frigging ran them off.”

  Sergeant Cox nodded, his face split wide with a big grin. He walked up to Welks, who was still under the burning repair bot. He dragged him out and, for a second, I thought he was going to give him a shakedown—but he didn’t.

  “Private frigging Welks,” he said, marveling. “Damn, boy, you’re living proof that shit can be stacked as high as you like—but today, you’re no longer in my book of cowards. In fact, you’re my favorite firebug of all time!”

  The sergeant let go of him, and Welks stood there, stunned. He grinned, and we slammed his shoulders with hard fists. He took this and nodded, knowing the pummeling was a sign of acceptance. He’d finally lived down that day he’d chickened-out back at Naiad.

  We regrouped after that and prepared to face whatever might come next. Lt. Quinn contacted the captain to report the recent battle. I couldn’t help but eavesdrop, curious about what our next move would be.

  “Lt. Quinn to Captain Hansen, we’ve just repelled an attack by Shadow Whisper’s troops. We suffered a few injuries, but the marines held their ground. Requesting permission to withdraw, Captain. It’s getting too dangerous in here.”

  There was a brief moment of silence before Captain Hansen’s voice came through the comms. She sounded remarkably calm. “Request denied, Lieutenant. I can’t afford to pull your men back now. You need to stand firm and protect the repair efforts. Borag isn’t ready to leave this station just yet.”

  “Captain,” Lt. Quinn protested, “we’ve already taken losses, and we’re now facing two enemy forces. I don’t even know how the pirates got here. How did they make it past the cyborgs?”

  “Obviously, they must have parked Shadow’s Whisper on the far side of the station. They have stealth technology, and they used it to reach us. You won the initial battle, Lieutenant. Don’t lose your nerve now.”

  “We won’t be able to hold out indefinitely,” Lt. Quinn said.

  “I know that,” Captain Hansen said patiently. “And I understand your concerns—but we have no choice. Our priority is to get Borag into fighting shape as soon as possible. I trust that you and Red Company will do whatever it takes to ensure that. Hansen out.”

  Lt. Quinn grunted unhappily. He turned to face us, as if we were the source of his frustration. “You heard the captain. We’re to hold our ground and protect the repair crews. I know it’s dangerous, but we’ve got a job to do.”

  Sergeant Cox pumped a fist in the air, but the sentiment didn’t catch on with the rest of us. “We’ll hold them off, sir. Red Company won’t let you down.”

  We dragged away the dead and wounded and took up defensive positions again, but I couldn’t help but feel uneasy. Captain Hansen was asking a lot of us, and I worried about what might happen if we couldn’t hold out against another attack.

  Long hours passed. My eyelids grew heavy as fatigue settled over me. I was leaning against the cold metal wall, struggling to stay alert at my post. The battles and constant stress had taken their toll on all of us. In my case, things were even worse. My mutation was making it hard for me to stay in tune with the situation.

  The faint sound of footsteps caught my attention, however. I snapped back my head, banging my skull into a steel wall. Had I been nodding off? Shit…

  I squinted into the darkness, trying to identify who was approaching. As the figure came closer, I recognized her. It was Ana. She was like a shapely ghost in the dark.

  “Devin?” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I’ve brought you something.”

  She held out a small vial filled with a dark liquid. I eyed it suspiciously. “What is it?”

  “It’s the distillate I promised you,” she said, her eyes filled with concern. “It’s made from the processed blood of the cyborgs. It should help control your mutations—and your emotions.”

  “What do I do with it? I don’t have a needle or anything…”

  She shook her pretty head. “No. It’s for drinking. Isn’t that better?”

  I stared at the vial of oily stuff. It was literally alien bug-juice. It had to be disgusting. Unbidden to my mind came a memory of a time when Dr. Sharaf had talked about needing me as a guinea pig someday. Had she been thinking of this very moment, even back then?

  Ana just watched me, holding up the vial like a foul offering. She didn’t speak. She was letting me decide.

  I’d agreed to participate in science experiments in order to save Ana. I remembered that now. Dr. Sharaf had made a point of it—a condition upon the basis of which she was willing to take Ana under her wing.

  “All right,” I said. “I’ll drink it for you—and for me.”

  She smiled, and I reached out to pluck the vial from her fingers.

  I hesitated for a moment, but then my force of will won out. All in a gulp, I swallowed the contents. Almost immediately, I felt a cold foulness in my belly. I fought not to empty my stomach.

  “Don’t vomit,” she said. “Only the weak can’t digest it.”

  A burn followed the cold. How could something so oily and cold—not to mention disgusting—make my guts turn to fire? After I choked and gasped for air for a while, the feeling subsided. I could breathe again without sweating or coughing.

  “Thank you, Ana,” I whispered. “For mixing up that shit. I hope it works.”

  Before I knew what I was doing, I reached out my big left arm and looped it around her waist. She gave a little gasp as I pulled her into a tight embrace—but she didn’t resist.

  I pressed my lips against hers. She seemed surprised at first but soon melted against me, her arms wrapping around my neck.

  As we broke apart, both breathless, I could see the surprise and desire in her eyes. “Devin—I didn’t expect that. You’ve been so cold to me, so distant—I didn’t think you had any desire in you.”

  I couldn’t help but smile. “I’ve been holding myself back.”

  Ana hesitated, her eyes darting around nervously. “We should be careful. No one can know about this. Dr. Sharaf—she will say awful things. The only reason I’m not in your darkest prison is because she thinks I can help her.”

  I nodded in agreement, understanding the risks. “Yeah… okay. This will be our secret.”

  As Ana slipped away, leaving me to resume my post, I felt a newfound sense of energy. With the medication working to control my mutations and the unexpected connection with Ana, things were looking up.

  Countless long, dull hours passed. When something new finally happened, I was dozing with my back against a wall. I was startled awake by the sudden sound of alarms blaring throughout the space station.

  The red emergency lights bathed the corridor in a sinister glow, casting looping shadows on the walls. Lurching up, I struggled to lift my rifle and aim it at something… anything. But didn’t see any rushing horde of bugs or pirates. Not here.

  “Starn!” Ledbetter shouted from down the hallway, “we’re under attack! The cyborgs and the pirates have joined forces! Get your ass down here, man!”

  I left my post and sprinted toward the rest of Red Company. Could Ledbetter be right? Were the cyborgs and pirates working together? That was not a good development.

  As I reached the front lines of the battle, I saw him—the half-machine pirate captain, Redgrave. He was a terrifying sight, his right side a mass of cold, gleaming metal where skin and bone should have been. He was tall, too—freakishly so. He towered over the battlefield on stilt-like steel struts, walking in a bizarre, mechanical fashion.

  The pirate rasped out orders that rolled from speakers in his chest. He commanded his stealthy minions and a pack of cyborgs. They were all fighting together in unison.

  “Red Company, form up!” Lt. Quinn commanded. “We need to hold this position at all costs! Don’t let them push us back!”

  We took cover behind whatever debris we could find. We exchanged fire with the advancing cyborgs and pirates.

  “Starn, cover the left flank!” Sgt. Cox shouted over the din of the battle.

  “On it, Sergeant!” I replied, moving to cover the vulnerable position. I fired my carbine, taking down a few cyborgs and pirates as they attempted to breach our defenses.

  “We’ve got to hold them, men,” Quinn told us. “We’ve got to hold them as long as possible!”

  As the battle raged on, it seemed at first that it was a brutal, bloody stalemate. Everyone was hiding behind a barricade, taking pot shots at each other.

  But then an explosion went off. It was a well-placed grenade, and it had killed a half-dozen huddled repairmen and their bots. We had to shift our defensive lines to cover them, and the enemy forces were able to advance.

  That was the key. Red Company fought valiantly, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were now fighting a losing battle.

  “Listen up, men!” Quinn said after another minute of fierce fire in both directions. “We’re going to fall back to the docking-tubes. Almost all the workers are back aboard Borag now—we’re pulling out.”

  I dared to glance over my shoulder, and I realized in an instant the situation had changed. We’d been fighting a holding action to protect the civilians, giving them a chance to retreat to Borag. Most of them were now gone—or dead. It was our turn to withdraw.

  Falling back in pairs, we covered one another from one vantage point to the next until we reached the docking tubes. When I got there, I saw a modified drill-bot with a riveter attached to its snout. It was standing in the way.

  The damned machine was blocking the tube, but even worse, it was trying to back up. I could only think that it had malfunctioned.

  Setting my legs, I put my big arm against its metal posterior and heaved. The robot was heavy, it would have weighed a ton or more on Earth, but here it was only a fraction as heavy. My great roaring shove tipped it forward on its nose. I didn’t care. If I had to roll it, end over end, up that ramp to Borag, I was going to do it.

  Then, to my shock, I saw the bot fall away into nothingness. It was tumbling, flailing its riveter.

  There was no docking tube. That’s why the machine had been trying to back up. There was nothing beyond its big metal ass other than open space.

  Chapter 31: Chasing Phantoms

  “Borag has cast off!” I shouted over tactical. “There’s no docking tube!”

  “Then jump out into space,” Quinn roared back.

  We did as we were told, springing out into the void like paratroopers jumping out of a plane. A few clung to the hatch, setting charges before they took the final leap.

  The pirates, seeing we were escaping, rushed forward and tried to pepper us in the ass as we floated helplessly. Welks was on the ball again, setting off charges and spraying the exit with a mess of jellied thermite. A moment later, a half dozen pirates and a single cyborg were transformed into torches.

  One man even drifted out into space with us, flailing and burning even as he froze and asphyxiated at the same time. It didn’t look like a fun way to go out, but at least it was pretty fast.

  Fortunately, Borag hadn’t cranked up her jets and left us behind—not yet. We vented precious oxygen out of our tanks to generate thrust. A few minutes later, we climbed into Borag’s airlocks and dared to look back at the station we’d escaped.

  About a hundred yards away, the alien space station loomed. It was so big it entirely filled my field of vision. Our mining rig had just begun to drift away from the larger station, providing me with a panoramic view.

  The station was constructed with a shimmering, iridescent material, which caught the light of the distant stars. The structure was a complex network of interconnected domes, spires, and tunnels. It was kind of hard to tell where one section ended and another began. It was as if the entire station had been grown organically rather than built.