“Momma?”

“Shhhh. It’s okay. I’m here.” Raine ran a hand over her son’s forehead. His cold, clammy skin made her insides curl inward, then shiver.

She and Beck had been left in what appeared to be a waiting room. The furniture was angular, and devoid of comfort, and a strong antiseptic smell attacked her nose. She placed her hand on Beck’s chest and felt his uneven breaths. “You need to keep quiet. I’m trying to find help. Promise me you’ll try to hold on.”

“I’m tired,” he whispered, unable to add any volume through his raspy breath.

“I know, baby. Just hold on a little while longer.”

“Will you take care of Mr. Weebles?”

“Who?” A mouse emerged from her son’s pocket to search for food, his white whiskers and nose twitching. She extended her hand and let Joseph’s pet crawl across her fingers. “Of course, baby. I’ll keep him safe for when you are well again.”

She spread open her shirt pocket and let Mr. Weebles crawl inside to feed on the grains in the bottom seams. Now I need to find one of those rejuvenation pods.

The glass door behind her slid open, and she stood and put herself between her son and the threat coming through the door.

The head scientist, still carrying her clipboard, walked in with a couple of staff members who set trays of food on the metal table.

“I haven’t properly introduced myself. I’m Gabrielle Fathoms. My apologies for the confusion upon your arrival. Welcome aboard. It’s not often I get the pleasure of talking to a human.”

Not often. Hmmm. Raine doubled her shields.

The tall scientist wore a white coat, but she was still elegant, her long, lean fingers almost fluid as they moved. Her straight spine and tight chignon gave her a sophisticated air. She waited for her assistants to exit before continuing.

Raine took the opportunity to lean a few degrees to the left to study the lab beyond. Three tubes filled with liquid filled the center of the room. She gasped, seeing a human body suspended in one of the tall containers. She forced back the bile welling into her throat. Along the edges were panels of computers and instruments. “You’ve been studying our race, and I assume our differences.”

Gabrielle didn’t pretend to deny what Raine said, only smiled, one of those sneaky smiles, the kind that didn’t reach her eyes, but gave the impression the person was friendly. This woman, whatever else she might be, is not friendly.

“It seems our races are much more closely related than certain scientists realized,” Gabrielle continued. “I would like to conduct tests on your son to see if we can help him, but first I wanted to extend my hospitality. Please accept food and refreshments. You’ve had a long journey, and there is not much in the way of food on space transports.” The doctor picked up a glass nearest her and motioned for Raine to select the other.

“It’s the juice from the mullion fruit. It’s rather refreshing.” Gabrielle tipped the glass and took a long drink, then licked her lips with apparent pleasure.

Raine lifted the glass and sniffed the contents. Her empty stomach reminded her she hadn’t eaten since leaving Earth. Her senses registered the tang of the drink, something akin to strawberries and peaches on Earth, yet there was a bitter, lemony smell.

“I’ll pass.” She set the glass back on the tray.

“I had a feeling you were smart.” The woman’s smile widened. “It’s refreshing.”

Only a second passed before Raine’s hand went numb. She grabbed the edge of the table. “Why is the room spinning?”

“Ooops. I guess I forgot to mention I coated your glass with the oils from the Deneb nettle. It’s a mild sedative. The effects will wear off eventually. Don’t worry. We’ll take good care of you and your son.”

Raine narrowed in on the organic thread winding its way to her system, and fought to reverse the effects, but couldn’t.

Her arms tingled, then her fingers, then toes. “Please don’t hurt my son,” she pleaded, not knowing if the words came out right.

After a few seconds, she lost control of her muscles. She could feel her legs collapsing only moments before the darkness closed in.

Raine dreamed she was walking through a thick fog, trying to find Beck. He’d run off to play and was late for dinner again. She pushed through the rows of corn, but kept getting stuck. She couldn’t move her arms, and her legs felt heavy, like her boots had gotten wedged in the mud.

She twisted and turned each way, trying to orient herself.

A woman’s voice calling to her made her stop and listen. It wasn’t Lacey. No, it was a much younger voice.

The woman told her, “Your son is safe.”

How would she know?

He couldn’t be safe. He wasn’t home.

She fought to clear the fog in her mind and drifted toward consciousness.

Her eyes fluttered open, then she lowered her lids until she peered through her eyelashes. Several scientists hovered nearby. She opened her eyes a bit further and saw her son on the table next to her.

His small frame looked odd strapped to the large table. Little mechanical orbs floated above his body, beeping a low-frequency sound.

“Do you think he can be regenerated?” asked the exceptionally thin, half-human half-crustacean being. Large, bulging, round black eyes and long, thin antennae jutted out from her forehead. Raine didn’t quite know why she assumed the being was a woman, and the person who had spoken to her. Maybe it was because the creature had a kind face, and a gentle, nurturing way about her.

The tall male standing next to her in a similar lab coat scoffed with superiority. “He’s contaminated. He won’t regenerate. There are not enough good cells to attempt the process. He should be terminated.”

Noooo. You can’t mean that. Raine tugged again at the wrist clamps but held back her concern for fear of being detected.

“The female,” the male pointed over his shoulder toward her, “she might be an experimental candidate. Even though exposed, she has a good percentage of uncontaminated cells remaining.”

Exposed? Of course. Why wouldn’t I have been contaminated along with Beck?

Still, the news sent a shockwave of distress. She lay unmoving, sinking into a deep meditation to visualize the infected areas.

Cold tentacles touched her arm, and she jerked her eyes open. The young female held a finger-like appendage to her lips.

“My name is Tila. I’m Myka’s friend.”

She must be his friend if she could pronounce his name correctly. His name was beautiful, like a waterfall of sounds. She tried to lift her arms, but the medical straps held her in place.

“Please,” Raine poured every ounce of her energy into the single word. “Please help my son. Don’t give up on him.”

Tila’s tentacles waved in the air. “Myka sends you a message.” She made sure there wasn’t anyone listening, then leaned in closer. “He will not abandon you.”

Yet he already had. She closed her eyes to hold in the anger. He’d tricked her about being his mate. The commander even said no Protector could take a mate. It wasn’t allowed.

What was with her falling for guys who were full of themselves, making promises, then not delivering? Beck’s father had sworn till death do us part. Then again, he did deliver beatings. When he found out about her gifts, he’d beaten her to within an inch of death. When she recovered enough to walk, she woke up Beck, packed a few things, and caught the first bus out of town.

Then again, Myka wasn’t at fault. He hadn’t been allowed to help. But she didn’t want to rely on any man. She’d learned to live on her own. She would save Beck or die trying.

She stretched with her fingers to reach the woman’s coat. Grasping the fabric, she tugged. “Can you tell me why Beck can’t go into the regenerator?”

Tila leaned forward. “We can’t isolate enough healthy cells. The regeneration process resets the cells back to an adolescent stage or a stage when the cells are the healthiest. When our young reach a certain age, we extract cells from behind the ear and store them for replication. Water people use these cells during the rejuvenation process.”

“If this is the case, your species can be immortal.”

Tila shook her head. “The rejuvenation process diminishes the effectiveness over time. On average, our females do not last past their fortieth regeneration.”

“Is that why your females are rare?”

“Yes. And because only one female is born to every seventh male.”

Raine’s mind raced to catch up. If this was true, the shortage of females would explain why Myka never expected to mate, and why the commander might have suggested he couldn’t.

Myka hadn’t lied. Raine compiled and sorted the information. The resentment and anger from moments earlier dissipated. “May I ask why you look different from the others?”

Tila’s shy smile disappeared. “You met my mother, Gabrielle. When I was born, my body was sick. She tried to heal me in the only way she knew. The stabilization process produced unexpected results.”

Raine knew all about being labeled a freak. She’d had rocks thrown at her. Her car spray-painted. She’d been rejected almost all her life until she found Magic. Never would she allow another person to make her feel unwanted or ugly.

“Unexpected results…and some beautiful ones.” Raine genuinely praised the young woman, certain she was good, and deserved more than the dismissiveness her colleague had given her.

Tila said nothing, only stared.

Raine lifted her fingers, and squeezed Tila’s hand gently. “You are unique. Special. One of a kind.” She squeezed the woman’s hand harder. “Because of your differences, you are meant for great things.”

Tila tried to pull away, but Raine held on.

“Believe, Tila. Like me, you will listen and watch and hear, when others will fail to take the time. You will make a difference one day. You’ll see.”

A spark of hope flashed through the young woman’s eyes. “I believe I know how to save your son.”

The flare of hope illuminated Raine’s heart. “Tell me—”

The sliding glass door opened and Tila’s male counterpart sauntered in. “Is the human awake?”

Tila’s expression intensified, and Raine closed her eyes. “No, not yet. But she is stable. I’ll begin running her tests shortly.”

“I’ve explained to your mother the boy’s body is too damaged. She said to tell you she doesn’t need the carcass, that the other specimens in the freezers are better test subjects. She’s authorized the disposal of the boy.”

Raine wanted to jump off the table and strangle the bastard, but she couldn’t move.

Tila squeezed Raine’s arm in warning. “I will see to the disposal. Isn’t there a bola match today you wanted to watch?”

“Yes,” the male grunted, not looking up from his computer board. “And I will miss the game because of these two.”

“The tests I want to run will take several hours. If you want, you can watch the match. I still have all these tissue samples to process, and the boy’s body to prepare for disposal. I could toss him into the incinerator, but I want to ensure the incineration process doesn’t send particles into the air and contaminate the ship.”

“As you should.” The male glanced up from the display, his scowl deepening. “Why are you being nice?”

“I’m always nice.”

Raine could feel Tila clutching the edge of the bed. She was hedging.

Come on, Tila! Think. Raine held her breath.

“Besides, next month is Luna.”

“Yeah, so. The stars align. What’s the big deal?”

“I want to watch.” Her tone was carefree enough, but her colleague wasn’t buying the act.

“Don’t tell me you’ve fallen for the idiota over in stellar research. He’s got his head jammed up a telescope half the time, and has no idea what’s going on around him the other half.”

“What I do with my time is none of your business.” Tila reached behind her and squeezed Raine’s hand. Raine relaxed into a trance so she could remain still and silent even though a boiling rage howled through her.

“So? How about it?”

“And if your mother shows up?”

“She won’t. Her maribalis plant has blossomed and needs to be pollinated.”

“Right. That damn plant is more important to her than anything else on this station.”

Tila shifted and moved to pick up her computer logs. “My point. And even if my mother comes in, I will say you're inventorying the medical supplies that came in on the last supply ship.”

“Fine. But make sure you label and store the samples you’ve gathered properly.”

She didn’t look up. “I will,” she sounded distracted, but Raine knew better.

When the door slid shut, the endorphins racing around Raine’s system settled in the pit of her stomach. Raine rotated her head toward Tila. “Would you mind unstrapping me? I’d like to be nearer my son.”

Tila shook her head. “Not yet. If you’re found unsecured, alarms will be raised, and I need time to prepare my experiment.”

Experiment. Raine hated the word, and under the circumstances, mistrusted it deeply.

She experimented with zucchini once and ended up with ninety-three bushels of the stuff. Nope. No one would be experimenting with her son. There had to be a better solution, one supported by science.

“How many regenerating pods are here?”

“Eight. Two next door, three in the medical wing, and three in the meditative gardens.” She picked up a vial and shook the contents. “Although the ones in the meditative gardens are just restorative, and not for regeneration.”

Not that Raine knew the difference, but she eliminated those three based on Tila’s dismissiveness.

“I think I found a match for your son’s blood. I will be back in a moment.”

Raine nodded before lying back and forcing her mind to relax. As soon as the door slid shut she lifted her head to look around. “Mr. Weebles?” she called, then closed her eyes to relay a focused message. Mr. Weebles, are you there?

The white mouse scurried out from her pocket and she relayed a different mental message. He raced across her chest and down her arm, then climbed up the metal braces holding her arms pinned to her side. The mouse sniffed around, then lifted up onto his hind legs. The added weight allowed the cuffs to open.

“Well done, Mr. Weebles.”

She rolled off the bed and extended her palm to the mouse before approaching her son’s bed. She reached out a tentative finger, and was relieved to feel the warmth of his skin.

“Beck, please hold on, baby. Just keep holding on.” She released Beck’s restraints and scooped up her son.

At the lab's door she paused, listening for any sounds, then walked into the sensor.

Every natural instinct wanted to turn left toward the rejuvenation room to save her son, but the rejuvenation suite would be the first place Tila would look. Even if she could figure out how to use the equipment, she most likely wouldn’t have the time to wait for the cycle to complete.

She didn’t have much time, but she needed to give Beck as much of a chance as she could, and that meant not getting caught.

She navigated right, and then slipped into the first open, out-of-the-way chamber she could find. Metal carts with bottles and bins lined each shelf, and at the back was a cart of extra linens and lab coats. She pulled the carts away from the wall with her foot and wedged her body and Beck’s between the racks. If someone turned on the light, she would be exposed, but she hoped capture wouldn’t happen, at least for a little while.

Now she needed to wait.