Lana's Comet (Outer Settlement Agency) Read online

  Lana’s Comet

  Outer Settlement Agency

  Lyn Brittan

  Published by Gryy Brown Press, 2014.

  LANA’S COMET

  Outer Settlement Agency Book IV

  Copyright 2014 © Lyn Brittan

  Gryy Brown Press

  www.lynbrittan.com

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this eBook or bound book may be reproduced in any form or by electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review. This eBook/Book may not be sold or given to other people. If you would like to share this story, please purchase additional copies.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  LANA’S COMET

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Fin

  Further Reading: The Genie’s Witch

  Also By Lyn Brittan

  About the Author

  About the Publisher

  Chapter One

  Cyprus Dhoma pulled down the black tunic, wincing at the civilian apparel in the mirror. Ridiculous, but necessary. No amount of talk and sound reasoning had been able to convince his former commander, Jasper Yoshisumi, not to hold his retirement party in the center of town. At least they’d rented out the place for privacy’s sake. He had no desire to be seen at a bar with ale in his hand by the Outer Settlement Agency’s latest batch of recruits.

  Decorum.

  Respectability.

  He flicked a speck of lint off his shoulder and gazed through the haze of Titan below. Despite the late hour, reds and yellows glittered off the silver buildings, reflecting lights of ground based rovers and hovering cruisers. Greenery hung off trellises like hanging gardens from ziggurats in the ancient days of Earth – back before man devolved with modernization.

  Ugh, Earth.

  He snorted at that hellhole and rolled his eyes.

  The whole 22nd Quadrant would be filled with Earth born scum. Life had proven often enough that only Venus, Titan, Mars and later settlements produced decent human beings. That backward, polluted, once blue rock only had those too poor, too stupid or too unlucky to settle elsewhere.

  His omnitablet blinked, reminding him of something equally annoying - his latest injection.

  “Damned Kin juice.”

  He didn’t bother to look, just reached for a jar of disposable sharps and shoved its contents into his neck. Years ago, his kind were called clones. Today, that word would get you punched in the throat. That didn’t make it any less the truth. Kin-Humanoids were bred years ago to do the grunt work of building life beyond Earth’s boundaries. That first batch didn’t go so well – no emotions, no soul. But as humans increased their clawed grasps on technology, the Kin developed as well.

  Now society recognized them as equals – at least on paper – but every once in awhile, a Kin was born with screwed up genes. Not that he needed the calcium processing shots, or Kin juice, as a reminder. His cloneness was all over his face. Oh, sure, a couple generations of human/clone breeding softened some lines, but his too wide mouth and too blue eyes, had him the recipient of many a second look.

  “Cyprus? Let’s go!”

  “You can’t knock?”

  His fraternal twin shrugged and grinned. “You’d never let me in. We’re going to be late, which for you means your head exploding. I’d rather avoid the mess.”

  Vin was everything he was not. Healthy, happy and very human looking.

  “Please?”

  And whiny.

  “I’m almost done, Vin. We won’t be late.”

  “Let me guess, you’re going to play with your hair again. Shave it off like mine. Real women think bald is sexy.”

  No, women thought Vin was sexy. Vin could get away with that cut. The lucky bastard didn’t have ears that needed hiding or any other feature that needed disguising.

  “So this will be the first you’ve left Titan in how long,” his brother asked.

  “I’ve been busy.”

  “Being a good little soldier.”

  “As are you, Vin.”

  “No. I have a life. Tonight will be good for you. Go out. Meet a girl. Get her omni specs. When was the last time you got laid?”

  His brother didn’t stop long enough to let him answer. Vin talked all the way downstairs to the cruiser launch area. Despite his station and the good sense that ought to have come with the rank, the fool winked at every woman they passed. Annoying. No amount of smacks to the back of the head could curb his ridiculous behavior.

  Or his mouth.

  It flapped on the whole ride downtown…and at the docking station…and up the fifteen flights to the top of the club they’d rented out.

  “Are you even listening to me?”

  He’d stopped ages ago. “Not on purpose.”

  “Slap a smile on your face before these lift doors open.”

  “I am smiling.” But it slipped the second he saw his commanding officer, shirtless on the bar and throwing a woman above his head. “Where the hell’s his wife?”

  Vin took a half step up and cocked his head to the side. “That is his wife.”

  “Everywhere I turn, standards are slipping.”

  “And here we go. It’s his retirement, oh never mind. Have fun or not. Whatever,” Vin said and slipped away into the crowd of revelers. He waved to Yoshisumi, but knew the man wouldn’t remember in the morning. Someone shoved a drink in his hand, but Cyprus did not intend to down it without doing a quick lap around the room. If there were any subordinates around, he wouldn’t touch the stuff. Unlike those fools at the bar, he would represent the Outer Settlement Agency well, in uniform or out, day or night.

  Chapter Two

  “I’m too old to start over.”

  “You’re twenty-nine.”

  “Which is like a hundred out here.”

  “Isn’t your older, hotter sister an agent?”

  “Yes, but she went in right at eighteen like a normal person.” Lana hung up her trainee uniform and fell back on the too small bed in the circular room. It was a hive, like most training facilities. Stacks of apartments built one on the other, the same outward facing wall, one gigantic window. Little privacy. All meant to strip you of individuality. Everything was the same. Two white beds facing a white wall, below a white ceiling on white heated floors. “This is like one of my labs. I shouldn’t have to be here. My living quarters from Meash Two were bigger than three of these cages.”

  “You’re the one who wanted to transfer from private to public. Meash does good work. Without them, Titan would still be some wasted Saturn moon raining sulfuric acid. Don’t be mad. This is your fault. Now you have to start all over again. More training, more being yelled at. No offense, but it’s kinda stupid.”

  Lana turned to her roommate. That she even had one was a peculiarity she had to work through. That said roommate was nineteen with boobs to heaven and a waist too slender for her own good, didn’t help in the ego department. “I need a drink.”

  “Now you’re starting to make
some sense, Lana. Get up and get dressed. My uncle’s retirement party is tonight. You’re coming with me. It’s in the 22nd.”

  “Are you even old enough to do anything in the 22nd?”

  “Stop it. You know you want to go. They’ll be plenty of old men—”

  She threw her pillow across the room at the laughing Michi, who caught it one handed. “You can’t beat these youthful reflexes.”

  “I’m not that old.”

  “Exactly.” Michi slid up behind her and forced her toward the mirror. “Great skin and a body built for action. Now you listen to me. You’re going to slip on something sexy, get in a cruiser and we’re going to enjoy our last night of freedom before training starts. Don’t look at me like that. I’m very wise for my age.”

  An hour later and Lana had to agree. They’d walked into a dim room with walls programmed to a faint purple. The 22nd was the place on Titan for partying, and all the latest songs poured down from the undulating ceiling. The walls moved too, at least, that was the effect the lights gave. It turned her brown dress a dark black and it glinted off the florescent sparkles she’d poured on her legs before stepping into the cruiser.

  “This isn’t exactly my crowd but…oh, there’s my uncle. Catch up with you later.”

  “Wait!” But Lana didn’t bother calling for her a second time. One, she wouldn’t be heard above the music. Two, the ‘not my crowd,’ totally made sense. Michi was a kid looking for boys. These were grown men, no recruits or wannabes here.

  Every face bore an easy smile or split in infectious laughter. Good. She needed this. Maybe she wasn’t always the life of the party, but she loved to see people grinning and happy. Tiny pangs of homesickness set in and she imagined how much her sister would have loved to dive in this pool of hotness. Every step closer to the bar filled her with want of equal parts home, family and fun.

  Oh, why couldn’t this party have been yesterday? She had to be up in a few hours and that meant not drinking nearly as much as she’d have liked. Still, the night was young.

  Youngish.

  And she could have something. “A Martian Summer please. Heavy on the vodka. Sir? How many credits? Hello?” She gestured to the barkeep, but he’d already turned away.

  “None,” answered the guy next to her. “All drinks are covered by Mrs. Yoshisumi.”

  “Oh? And who’s that?”

  The blond head finally lifted and nodded to his right. “She’d be the one dry humping the chair in the corner.”

  “Ah, I see.” Her drink arrived, a swirling, bubbling glass of red liquid. She lifted it in salute to the oblivious mess of a woman. “She’s really getting into it.”

  The man snorted and turned, looking down at her with a face that could only be described as striking. Hard, but not beautiful. Tough, demanding and looking every bit the stereotype she had of OSA Agents.

  She checked his hips for handcuffs and let out a little sigh of disappointment at their absence.

  “What was that for? Too good to talk to clones?”

  “Actually, I was thinking you were kinda cute until you opened your mouth. And don’t ever use that slur around me.”

  One bushy eyebrow shot up. He took another swig of his drink, eyes locked on her over the rim of his glass. After pounding the counter, he waved his hand and signaled for another. “Are you appropriating my outrage? I’ve had too many of these to have this conversation.”

  “It’s called decency. Let me guess.” Her hand shot to her face, she squared her shoulders and locked her heels in place. “Super Serious Soldier reporting for duty, sir!” She’d be damned if the smirk on his face didn’t grow into an actual grin. So much cuter. “I’m Lana, by the way.”

  “Cyprus.”

  “Cyprus? There’s a place on Earth…”

  “Fuck, you’re not from there, are you? No, you can’t be, talking to a clone and all. So what do you do?”

  She was not in the business of clearing up people’s prejudices. Least of all to someone who’d probably endured more than anyone’s share. Perhaps not the best time to divulge that she was both an Earthling and a Meash employee. Or used to be. A rogue Meash wing had been at the head of clone creation and it’d gone madly out of control. If not for the works of Giancarlo and Solia Sable, genetic enslavement may have gone on for years. But that didn’t have anything to do with her. Or him.

  “You’ve said ‘clone,’ twice since I met you. You’ve got issues, soldier.”

  “No, I haven’t.”

  “You do.” She threw back her glass and let the spirit warm her. “Big issues. I should know. I’m a doctor.”

  “So uppity, then?”

  “Class A physician, medical, mental and surgical. So very uppity and hopefully soon, very tipsy. But not too tipsy,” she said and took another swallow.

  “Is that what ‘not too tipsy’ looks like?”

  “You’re being Super Serious Soldier again. Knock it off.”

  “You’re very…casual…with strangers.”

  “I talk when I’m nervous. Would you like to dance? See? Casual. Let’s dance.”

  But the blond only shook his head.

  She slid over her drink, refusing to give up with a solid try. “You’re not loose enough. Here. Finish this.” To his credit, he did as well as another two. By the fourth, he was stringing together full three sentence statements and laughing like it didn’t cost him a kidney to do it. The hunk was well and truly drunk.

  Without any warning and in the middle of a terrible joke, he wiped his chin with the back of his hand and pushed away from the counter. “I should go before I make an ass of myself.”

  “It’s okay to do that.” He started to stand but she stopped him with a hand to the shoulder. “Let me clarify. It’s okay to make an ass of yourself. It is not okay to go. I didn’t give you permission to do that.”

  Plush, full lips parted in open laughter and something hinted that he didn’t do that very often. “Ask permission?”

  “You’ll be denied. You don’t get told what to do, do you?”

  “It’s been some time.”

  “I see. You like telling people what to do.”

  “Don’t over analyze, Doc. It’s my job.”

  “Here’s the thing, soldier. I’m about to begin a new phase in my life, one where people will be telling me what to do for a very long time.”

  “Unfortunate.”

  “Quite. So before that happens, allow me to tell you what to do for just a little longer.” She leaned over close enough for her lips to brush his ear. “Order me a Sladq Surprise.”

  When he didn’t turn at her command, heat warmed her face. Ordering a Sladq here was like getting dark rum on Earth. If he didn’t agree to the liquor based aphrodisiac, well, she’d roll out of there, embarrassed as hell and slink on back to the dorms, bottle in hand.

  He took his own sweet time to work out what he wanted. She wasn’t looking for anything serious, though she did want to get to know him better. Maybe. Still, Titan was one of those wild moons, the kind suited to her – where women took what they wanted without reservation.

  “I’m not built for relationships,” he said after an eternity.

  “I didn’t ask for one. Wait whatever. It was good to meet you, Cyprus. I’m going to head back. I hope you have an awesome night and do me one big, huge favor.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Learn to relax or at least promise you’ll try. Doctor’s orders.”

  Cyprus brought her hand to his lips before turning away without a backwards glance.

  Humiliation wasn’t the right word. This was something a degree or eight beyond that. Such a word had to exist – she just didn’t know what it was.

  Or maybe it hadn’t been invented yet. Possible. Because on the scale of things, this ranked pretty frigging high. Mortification came close…ish.

  “Everything okay?” Michi’s flushed faced popped up as she neared the door.

  “Fine, but I’m going to head back.
I need to get my rest.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “I do.”

  “I don’t and neither does he,” she said, pointing to the massive man stalking towards them. By the time she turned back, Michi was gone.

  “Would you like me to walk you back?”

  “Change of heart?”

  Cyprus shoved his hands in his pockets and rolled his tongue across his lips. “I like a challenge.”

  “Oh, you do?”

  “This is me loosening up.”

  “Oh, it is?”

  “I’m not very good with women?”

  “Shocking. Really, I am gobsmacked.”

  Cyprus’s chuckle was deep, rich and warming. He threw his arm around her shoulder and she instantly melted against his heat. “Yep and I was thinking – get down!”

  She didn’t have much of a choice. He shoved her to the floor. She flipped over in time to dodge a chair sailing overhead while Mr. Serious Soldier popped up swinging. He lunged for the man, wrapped both hands behind his knees and threw him to the floor. Things may have stopped there.

  Should have stopped there.

  Would have stopped there, if not for the fact that Chair Thrower had minions. Soon, brawlers from all factions filled the floor. Chair throwers, bottle swingers, people launchers and all various groups in between. What happened next was anyone’s guess. Curses were thrown, punches were caught by unsuspecting jaws and omnitablets flashed at the carnage.

  Omnitablets? The last thing she needed was to have her picture taken. She ran her hands through her hair, shielding her face on both sides. Half drunk, tail up in the middle of a bar fight isn’t an image she wanted on the screens of every omnitablet in the Quadrant. She tried to scramble to her feet, but Serious Soldier held her down with one hand, while disconnecting a jaw with the other.

  “Let me up. I can’t get caught up in this.”

  “Me neither.”

  They shared a look.

  They shared a grin.

  They locked hands and took off, ducking as drunken shouts ordered calm to little effect. One thing she could count on, no lunar or planetary sheriffs would be called out. With so many OSA guys involved, no one would want this to go any higher than it already was.