Syn-En: Plague World: The Founders War Begins by Linda Andrews Page B

in finishing. They both weren’t happy.
    “I don’t trust these biologics. They are too eager to help with everything.”
    The elevator doors opened at their approach. It always did when she wasn’t in a hurry. Apparently, the universe wanted them on the ground as soon as possible.
    She retreated to the far corner. “You think something more than gratitude is motivating them.”
    A statement not a question. She’d felt the burp in his subroutines during the meeting, but hadn’t identified the cause until now.
    “My subroutines do not burp.” He smoothed the hair back from her face and kissed her forehead. His lips lingered for a moment.
    She clutched his shirt front and buried her face in his neck. “I thought you’d shut down the WA again.”
    “I left it open for us.”
    Something of them would remain if they didn’t return from the planet. The knowledge helped to close the lid on her boxful of fears. “I hope nothing comes back to bite us on the butt when we return.”
    The elevator slowed to a stop.
    Retreating a step, he held his arms stiffly at his side. “I can always use my authority to delete the records.”
    “Sometimes it’s good to be the king, or in your case, the admiral.”
    “And sometimes it sucks.”
    She couldn’t argue with that. The base of her neck tingled, then something tugged on her brain box. The WA had been disconnected. She was alone at her husband’s side. Raising her chin, she followed him along the short walk to the cargo bay.
    The engines hummed, echoing throughout the ship. She glanced up and down the hall. Her stomach cramped. Shouldn’t she have seen someone?
    The double doors on the right snicked open. Boots stomped as the Syn-en snapped to attention. The black-clad soldiers stood in neat regiments along the sides of the cavernous space. Humans straightened and faced her. Cheeks glistened. Some wiped their eyes. When the Syn-En saluted, the people copied their movements.
    Nell bit the inside of her cheek to keep from speaking. They were saying goodbye. She plodded beside Bei. The soldiers created a corridor ten feet across leading directly from the beetle-shaped shuttles to the opening in the hull.
    Everyone stared straight ahead. Many swallowed hard.
    In his dress uniform, Captain Pennig stood at attention near the ramp leading into Starflight 1’s bulbous belly. Chief Engineer Shang’hai stood beside him. With his tail curled around his body, Elvis sat between her and her boyfriend, Montgomery Smith. The dark-skinned mechanic clutched a wooden box in his hands.
    Bei halted in front of the captain and returned the salute. “You have your orders.”
    “Aye, Sir. As soon as you punch through the atmosphere, we continue to Terra Dos and drop off our passengers. The America will contact you when she reaches high Surlatian orbit in thirty-seven standard hours.” When Captain Pennig lowered his arm, the other assembled Syn-En did the same. “The America is creating space for three thousand refugees as well as readying quarantine decks.”
    Bei nodded. “Has news of our mission been sent ahead?”
    Nell twitched. If they failed, steps must be taken to eliminate the threat to the rest of the intelligent world.
    “The Skaperians are drafting a proposal to present to the Erwar Consortium.” Captain Pennig presented an epad, representing the official transfer of power to him. “Our allies don’t think they will have any trouble getting it to pass.”
    Bei set his finger on the pad, authorizing the power transfer, then entered his command code.
    “I would hope not.” Nell sunk her fingers into Elvis’s feathery head.
    The Amarook rose on his hind legs, until he stood eye level with her. His black tongue licked her cheek, then he held out a vial of his saliva. His furry hands shook as they placed it in her hands. “It’s fresh and potent. It will keep you healthy.”
    Wrapping her arms around his neck, she kissed his cheek. “Thank you. I’m sure it’s just what