“That,” she choked out.
Shock was setting in, and the way she clutched her arm made him think it might be dislocated. He wanted to stop and tend to her, but now wasn’t the time. He kept his eyes on the road, the rearview mirror, and the truck’s control panel as it ran through the system diagnostics. Several warnings popped up about disconnected comms, but nothing unexpected or alarming. Not yet.
“Those were your Sarrian overlords,” he said.
“A woman?”
“Yes, you could call her that.”
“What happened with the muzzle heads?”
“The EMP pulse you activated popped their head chips, and they went into a blood frenzy. You did good, Kitten. You saved us.”
“I don’t understand.” She tipped her head back and closed her eyes.
Bastian activated the temperature control. It wasn’t something he usually needed, but Kitten looked utterly chilled and drained.
“I have not explained?”
“You are not good at explaining anything. You ask a hundred questions but dole out information like it’s as rare as chocolate. My best friend died today. Eaten. By one of those fucking muzzle heads. And I almost died the same way. Could you explain it all again?” Her eyes blinked open again so that she could treat him to a haughty glare.
“She was not your best friend. Not as I understand the term. She was a shit show,” Bastian corrected her.
“When I went to Springfield, she let me sit at her table. Other than a couple of sleazy old men, she was the only one who talked to me. I was there for years. You got that? Years. I just hated being alone so fucking much. Fred and Don were better conversation than talking to myself. Then Brenda came along. She had so much to say—all the time—knew everything about everyone.”
“She talked to you because she’d run through everyone else,” Bastian pointed out. It was a guess.
Kitten’s head swung to the side to stare at him. “Was I really so stupid?”
“I believe you were vulnerable. You said you were alone. She is not as good as I am at hunting vulnerable things like kittens, but she saw your need and exploited it.” She winced like he’d hit her.
Maybe he should have answered something else. She looked away from him, out the window. The loss of her attention struck like a cold breeze. “You humans are emotional. Your need made you trusting.”
She groaned unhappily.
That was better, wasn’t it?
“Doesn’t matter now. She’s dead. I saw them grab her. At least the baby is safe. Because there is no baby.” She wiped her hand over her eyes.
“No. No extra heartbeat. No elevated hormones. There was no baby.”
“The muzzle heads went crazy because of the EMP pulse?”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn’t you go crazy?” She asked it like she had been hoping for an escape from him. And herself.
“Because I don’t have a control chip, like they do. I control myself. But I had a data implant for information input and old trackers connecting me to my name day blade and my people. I did. You disconnected those.” Pride in her ability to accomplish the feat swelled in his chest. Unsure of what to do, how to do it, surrounded by red hats, her friend calling for help, she’d managed to save them.
“You still have people in space, don’t you? In orbit? They could find us. Dad said you aliens have amazing radar, amazing capabilities.”
“Yes. The Sarrian are amazing, especially your Sarrian prime battler mate. But one must consider the stupidity of House politics and power plays. If an engineer looks for us, we will be found. However, I do think house politics will save our day.”
“Why is that?” Kitten didn’t open her eyes.
“That woman you saw is the Arch Prima of the Anciadrimda because of wealth and family, not intelligence. If she survives, she will cover up her incompetence rather than bring attention to it. If she dies, her younger sister will take her place and clean up today’s event to hide any shame to the house.”
“Are you sure?” She covered her mouth, trying to hide a yawn.