Mission: Mistletoe Read online

  She gently separated two of the stems from the central core and reached to their base with the scissors. Making a quick snip, she neatly pulled the roots apart and dropped them, leaves and berries still attached, into the water she’d collected. While Rhayne stripped off her gloves, Althea sealed the container, stowed it in the backpack, and handed it to Griffin. Rhayne shoved the gloves deep into her pockets, determined not to leave evidence of their presence. She fluffed the chimera mistletoe back into the ball-like shape they’d first discovered and motioned for mother and son to head back toward the entrance.

  Just as she was about to leave, she noticed several small flowers growing from the central stem. Very unusual. Was it part of the chimera’s normal genetics or had someone modified the code sequence to incorporate some other plant DNA? Certain species had vibrant red leaves, but not flowers. She picked a small handful, pulled one of the gloves back out of her pocket and put the tight red buds inside. Knotting the latex closed, she raced after Griffin.

  Slater had the door open and aggressively motioned for Rhayne to hurry. Griffin and Althea were already standing in the corridor outside the farm when she swept through the portal, followed closely by the Marine.

  The foursome started to walk toward the people lift when they heard the unmistakable sound of ag-bots humming down the passageway.

  “Go! I’ll meet you in Griffin’s quarters,” Slater ordered as he pushed Althea toward the end of the hall. He watched for a moment to make sure they made it safely to the lift before turning and starting what appeared to be a routine security sweep of the area, trying doors and checking security codes against the mini-tab he’d pulled out.

  Just as the hydraulic lift door slid shut, Slater looked at the droids and walked in the opposite direction as the workers passed him and marched into the farm. Althea and Griffin expelled noisy sighs of relief. She continued to hold her own breath. This wasn’t a game. They’d made it this far. Now the focus of their operation was to create the anti-serum. And it was her job to make sure it was done as quickly as possible.

  * * * *

  Slater showed up at Griffin’s quarters thirty minutes after the trio had made it back. He brushed off the encounter with the ag-bots as a non-event after Griffin let him in. “Worker droids aren’t programmed to question or report anything that seems out of the ordinary unless it has to do with growth rates and flow systems.” He lifted his shoulders nonchalantly. “I stopped in the security office to see if there were reports of unusual activity on Kronos. I’ve been known to do that when I can’t sleep. And with the extra revelers and the festival, I think my troops almost expect it of me.”

  “Is sleeplessness a frequent problem for you?” Althea had a curious expression on her face.

  “Only on the days when…” Slater trailed off, shifting from one foot to the other.

  Althea put her hand on his arm at his hesitation. “When, Deke?”

  “Dammit! It only happens on days when I see you.” He turned to grip her shoulder and look into her eyes. “Even if we haven’t spoken—if I’ve just seen you in a corridor or across the room in the galley—I think about you all night long. It’s easier to go to work than it is to lay there like a stupid schoolboy, pining for his lost love.”

  “Oh, Deke. That’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me since we uncoupled.”

  “Cooper, do you and Dr. Drake need Althea’s help anymore tonight?” Slater asked, not taking his eyes of Althea’s face.

  Griffin looked as if he was ready to say yes when Rhayne said, “I think we can manage without her. We’ve got most everything we need except a means to distill the mistletoe. I have an idea on how, but we won’t need her help. You two should get some rest.”

  “Exactly what I was thinking, Rhayne.” Althea smiled as she pulled Deke toward the portal. Slater stopped at the entrance and sent a look toward Griffin. “I’ll take care of her, promise.”

  Griffin snorted. “I’ve seen how you’ve done it in the past.”

  Deke nodded. “I’ve learned from my mistakes.” He allowed Althea to pull him along, leaving Rhayne and Griffin staring as the portal swooshed shut.

  Rhayne laughed at the string of colorful expletives Griffin unleashed. “Maybe he has mellowed since they split up. She seems very comfortable around him. I think she really likes him.”

  “I think she loves him.”

  Griffin’s tone held so much despair Rhayne couldn’t resist going over to twine her arms around him. She could tell from the change in his posture as he wrapped her in his embrace that he’d let go of his concern for his mother. Rhayne lost herself in the feel of his strong arms holding her against his hard chest. She turned her cheek and laid her head under his chin. His steady heartbeat tapped against her ear.

  “Is it such a bad thing for them to love each other?” she asked softly, curiously.

  Griffin released her and ran a hand over his head. “She was so unhappy at the end of their partnership. Titan, I was afraid she’d never smile again.”

  “That explains the animosity between you and Deke.”

  “You think?” Griffin laughed harshly as he leaned a hip against the table. “By the time the union was finally dissolved, if guns had still been legal, I’d have found one and gone after him.”

  “And if she does still love him? If they get back together?”

  “I don’t know. I want her to be happy.”

  Rhayne laid a hand over his heart and looked into his eyes. “You just need to look into her eyes when they’re in the same room to know she’s happy. Whatever their issues were when they split, I believe they’ve resolved them.” She stretched up on her toes and pressed her lips against his cheek. “I think it’s nice how you worry about your mom.”

  “Yeah, I’m a good son. So good, in fact, that I’m willing to let my mom risk her life to stop a mad scientist.” Griffin’s tone was an odd mixture of sadness and resignation, with maybe a touch of pride.

  “I haven’t known Althea very long, but I think there isn’t much letting to be done. She sees a way to make a difference and nothing will stop her.”

  “Or you,” Griffin said.

  “Or me. Look, I realize this entire situation is crazy. I’ve dreamt of finding a cure for neoplastic disease since my dad got his diagnosis. I’ll do anything, including putting my own life on the line, to make sure the universe gets a cure.” Rhayne gave in to her agitation. She paced from one side of Griffin’s quarters to the other then repeated the pattern.

  “Something as simple as mistletoe, a common parasite, could fix people. It could fix me, Griffin. I’m still shocked that greed and avarice could turn a potential cure into a death sentence. But I…we…can stop it from happening.”

  “I know. I’m still worried, Rhayne,” Griffin responded.

  Tension radiated from Griffin in spite of his relaxed posture. The expression distorted his handsome face into a grim mask. It distressed her, because she knew she and Althea had to stop the madness from occurring. Too many lives were at stake—including her own. If she had drunk the punch as Truser meant to serve it, her life span might have been limited to days, or even hours. She would have failed in her quest to cure a disease that aged people prematurely to the point of death. She wouldn’t let that happen.

  She smiled, with what she hoped passed for confidence, at the large man standing next to her. “With you and Deke protecting us, I’m certain we’ll be okay.”

  Griffin scrubbed his hands together as if attempting to wash away his concern. “What do we do now?”

  Rhayne leaned over the table, grabbed her backpack, and pulled the storage flacon out. Setting it on the table, she pulled the lid off and stared at the contents. “To get what we need from the plant, I have to distill the leaves.”

  “How do you do that? Do you boil it?”

  “That’s one way, but it’s not the best. I need to ionize it.” Rhayne moved to the storage units built into one wall and began opening doors. “Do you mind?” she as
ked, glancing over her shoulder.

  Griffin waved a hand, indicating for her to proceed. “If you tell me what you need…”

  “Won’t know until I see it,” she said as she pulled items out, looked them over, and then discarded them. “Ah, this will do.”

  She placed a large ceramic bowl with a cover on the table and went back to her search. Griffin followed behind her, replacing the disturbed housewares and shutting doors. Rhayne muttered to herself as she put a few more items next to the bowl. Finally, she stood still and put her hands on her hips, looking at the haphazard collection she’d gathered.

  “This is a start, but I need a way to cook and decant the serum. This is hopeless.” She stood with her hands fisted on her hips. “Boiling it would require at least sixteen hours and nearly constant attention. If we want to replace the formula Truser already has before the Solstice celebration, I need it faster than I can make here. I don’t have the proper equipment to get it done in time.”

  “You said ionizing would speed it up.”

  “It would, but you don’t have the right—” Rhayne turned toward Griffin. Giddy excitement raced through her. “Wait! You tweak the air in Ma’Jut.”

  “Yeah, but I don’t see how that can help us.”

  “Griffin, can you get an ionization canister from the bar?”

  He grinned, as if seeing where her thoughts were going. “That’s genius, Rhayne! What else will you need?’

  Rhayne grabbed his tablet and started tapping a shopping list on it. “I’ll need flexible plastene tubing—you probably use it in dispensing beverages. A couple of bottles of Cassini Ale, the kind with the ceramic toppers and some of those synthetic pour spouts. Oh, and I need the highest proof, colorless alcohol you have in the bar.”

  “You know, there’s an old Earth expression for being able to build something spectacular from common household goods. I think this makes you a MacGyver.”

  Rhayne looked at him quizzically, her head canted to one side. The smile on Griffin’s face was infectious. “Huh?”

  “Never mind. I just demonstrated what a geek I really am.”

  “But I like that about you.” Rhayne grinned back at him as she pulled a knife from the block on his kitchen cabinet and waved it in the air. “I think I’m supposed to be the geek in this relationship. At least the mad scientist.” She pointed to the portal with the tip of her knife as she dropped a cutting pad on the table next to the mistletoe. “Go get what’s on my list and hurry back. I want to get this started before I have to go to the lab.”

  Chapter 10

  Once Griffin had returned with the supplies, Rhayne had quickly fashioned the apparatus necessary to distill the chimera plants. She’d spent the night in Griffin’s quarters, frequently checking on the progress of the project. She’d managed a nap curled up in his arms on the sleep cot.

  It was a quiet day in the lab. Several of Rhayne’s co-workers had taken time off to prepare for the Solstice celebration. Tomorrow was the shortest day of the year, not that it really mattered in deep space. It was always dark this far away from the sun.

  Deep space travel was the reason the BC had invested so much money to develop solar lamps capable of mimicking the power and brightness of the sun. Many travelers to Kronos, at the ass-end of the system, suffered from seasonal affective disorder, leaving them depressed and suicidal by the end of their journey. Induced sleep helped eliminate the worst symptoms for most people by tricking them into thinking they’d spent less time in darkness than was actually the case.

  Ancient Earth cinema companies had accurately depicted space travelers going crazy in their science-fiction films. Rhayne had seen it happen more than once in her travels.

  The near-constant darkness was one of the reasons stations like Kronos tweaked the air with extra ionization, occasionally resorting to aromatherapy tactics. Some days, even herbal infusions sprayed over air distribution coils weren’t enough to mask the scent of dust, stale socks, and bodies sanitized in dryshowers but not properly washed. Limited access to water made waterless showers a necessity.

  Solstice celebrations, and the scents, sounds, and flavors that came with it, were vital to the occupants of Kronos. Psychologically, people looked forward to the merry-making with great anticipation. It was a celebration of rebirth and renewal. On Earth, days lengthened by mere minutes of sunlight in the months leading to the Vernal Equinox. It was a very gradual process. On the remote station, solar lamps were programmed to add thirty minutes of daylight every day for two weeks. It was an excellent way to alleviate seasonal symptoms without upsetting the circadian rhythms of the station’s inhabitants. The knowledge couldn’t help Rhayne shake off the cloying sense of trepidation and doom she’d woken up to this morning. Even though Griffin’s inspired method of kissing her awake had temporarily alleviated it, unease had plowed back once she’d left his cabin.

  By the time Althea ventured into the lab, Rhayne was at the mini-Djinn getting a second cup of Athene tea, adding extra caffeine, ionization, and a hint of cinnamon. Where Rhayne felt heavy and exhausted from working through the night, Althea had a spring in her step that had been missing yesterday.

  “Someone is very happy this morning,” Rhayne commented when her lab partner joined her at the Djinn station.

  “And someone else looks like she hasn’t been to bed yet.”

  Rhayne lowered her voice as she stirred extra cyclamates into her mug to sweeten the tea. “I managed a little sleep. Once Griffin got back with the items we needed and we set up the distillery, it was opening time here. Griffin walked me as far as the life lock and waited until I was in the lab before he headed back to monitor our little science project.”

  Althea leaned her hip against the countertop, a dismayed frown replacing her radiant smile. “You’re distilling it already? I’m sorry. I should have stayed to help.”

  “It’s okay.” Rhayne smiled. “Griffin went shopping for me in Ma’Jut’s storeroom while I dissected the chimera mistletoe. When he got back with what we needed, the plant was prepared. It took us about an hour to assemble the brewing apparatus.”

  “Wait. How are you cooking it?”

  “We’re ionizing it to break it down and using a small hydraulic pump to create the positive pressure that will generate the low level of heat we need.”

  “I would never have thought of that. I’m proud of you.”

  Rhayne laughed as she deposited her spoon back in the Djinn’s recycling receptacle. “If you think that was a good idea, wait until you see what we’re using to strain the finished serum. Griffin donated a sock and pulverized basalt from one of his plants. We have to hope it will remove enough impurities so it won’t be detectable in the punch.”

  Althea chuckled. “Titan, I wish I had been there. You have a creative mind, my young friend.”

  Rhayne glanced toward the dark corner office as she sipped her tea. “Griffin plans to sneak into Truser’s quarters tonight to replace the deadly serum with our potion. Now I have to figure out which type of flask they used so he can make the switch quickly and get out.”

  Althea blew gently on her own cup of coffee while she thought. “My guess would be something clear. Truser considers himself a purist.” She smiled as she stepped away from the counter. “At least we don’t have to worry about his overly observant eyes today. He streamed me this morning to let me know he was taking the day off.”

  He never allowed them to be in the lab when he wasn’t. Rhayne’s shoulders knotted painfully. They were running out of time. “Oh, my Titan! Truser must be confident of his plan then. He wouldn’t leave us alone in the lab unless he was.”

  58 glided through the lab’s main portal and settled itself behind a workstation before waving energetically at them. Rhayne raised her mug in a return salute. That droid had a personality.

  “Deke suggested all of us meet for dinner tonight. He’s setting up a way to track Truser’s movements. You’ll let me know what else I can do?”

  Rhayne n
odded and walked back toward her station.

  * * * *

  Downloading a supply inventory log to her personal stat reader, Rhayne engineered a trip to the lab’s storage locker by declaring she needed to resupply her work terminus. The idea had come to her while she’d worked through lunch. Truser had to have removed a storage container from the lab to store his serum. It would have to be a small container—the formula Rhayne had used to re-create the altered version wouldn’t manufacture a very large amount. She’d followed exactly the proportions she’d found in Chase’s lab reports.

  Rhayne nodded at 58 as she made her way into the storage area. The droid hadn’t approached her during the day except to say hello as it delivered a midmorning cup of Athene tea. It had deposited the dainty porcelain cup on her work surface and mimicked an old-Earth Indian accent, like a chai mullah. But several times when she’d looked up from her electron reader, she’d caught his green optix scanners studying her.

  Each time it happened, her anxiety level had ratcheted higher. Fear of imminent discovery tasted coppery and bitter as it coated the back of her throat. Choking down her anxiety, she chided herself for a fool. 58 was a tech droid. Its programming didn’t extend to monitoring anything beyond her basic needs in the lab. Though it did have a distinctly human manner… She found it disconcerting.

  Rhayne shook off her sense of dread and immersed herself in the mundane task of taking inventory, filling the thin lo-olefin plastic transport capsule with items she needed to do her job. She made her way toward the sealable, clear aluminum storage containers Althea suggested would be the kind Truser favored.

  Once she stood in front of the shelves, her heart sank. “There must be seven different styles and sizes. Titan, there is a flask made of glass. Where did an antique like that come from?” she whispered.

  Rhayne glanced over her shoulder to make sure no one approached the small pod where she worked. She released a shaky breath and shook her head. Consulting the inventory list, she confirmed the number of small flasks that were supposed to be on the shelf according to her reader. She drew a deep breath and began to count. “All present and accounted for,” she muttered. She wished Griffin were with her to assist. Or distract.