The Gender Game 5 by Bella Forrest (uplifting novels .txt) 📕

I was ready to go back in, when the contemplative look on his face made me pause.

“What?” I asked, looking down at my arms and legs as though they were somehow accountable for the warmth in his expression.

“Nothing,” he said nonchalantly. “It’s just… you seem really good with kids.”

Slightly dazed by his words, I immediately deflected. “Yeah, well, at the rate we’re going, this will be a kid-free zone until you put a ring on my finger.”

“Hmmm…” Viggo said, his green eyes growing even more thoughtful. “Noted.”

I chuckled and slipped my arm through his as we got up and made our way down the gently sloping hill. As we walked, I couldn’t help imagining holding a small boy with Viggo’s eyes in my arms, nestling him close to my chest. Blinking at the unaccustomed thoughts of a future I wasn’t sure would ever happen, I decided I didn’t quite hate the idea. In fact, it filled me with a thrill of excitement.

Smiling, I rested my head against Viggo’s arm and allowed him to lead me.

19

Viggo

Violet and I were halfway to the house when the sound of my name being shouted loudly from the other side of the yard made me pause. I turned slightly, craning my neck toward the sound, and saw Thomas rushing over, his cheeks flushed and his eyes bright with excitement.

“Viggo!” he repeated, closing the distance rapidly.

“Hey, Thomas,” I greeted. “What’s up?”

He came to a stop before us, his breathing coming in short pants. I exchanged looks with Violet, who shrugged, and turned back to him, curious. He gave a few racking coughs, a definite sign he was not comfortable with running, and then seemed to catch his breath.

“Do you remember those cases we hauled from Ashabee’s? The ones we didn’t recognize?”

I racked my mind for the memory of a previous conversation about it, but came up short. If we had, it had slipped my notice, either due to exhaustion, my preoccupation with Violet, or just too much going on to retain everything. “Not really. But I take it you figured it out.”

Thomas nodded, his breathing still labored. “I did! They’re drones,” he proclaimed with a broad smile. I frowned at the unfamiliar word and looked over at Violet, who was wearing a similar confused expression. Thomas looked back and forth between us, his smile slowly slipping away, to be replaced by an incredulous quirk of his head. “Drones,” he repeated.

I shook my head. “I’m sorry—last I heard that term, it was for mindless worker bees in a hive. So unless you’re saying the boxes contain beehives, I have no idea.”

“Don’t be obtuse,” Thomas grumbled, and then flinched when I gave him a stern look. “Sorry,” he amended. “Was there a better way to say that? Social protocols sometimes elude me. Maybe… don’t be stupid?”

I didn’t reply, torn between rolling my eyes and laughing, but Violet grinned at Thomas. “Don’t worry about it,” she said. “However, the word you’re using is actually unfamiliar to us, so can you please explain what a drone is?”

Thomas nodded in excitement. “A drone is a machine capable of flight that can be piloted remotely. It has cameras on it with night vision and thermal scan settings! Do you understand what that means?!”

I considered what he was saying, and then smiled. “It means you have a way of checking out the camp before Owen and I even enter.”

“Exactly!” he exclaimed. “It is the perfect spy tool! And there are three of them!”

Opening my mouth to respond, I paused when I heard the loud sound of Violet’s stomach growling obnoxiously. She had the good grace to blush. “Hold that thought, Thomas,” I said. “We should get Violet fed.”

She grinned up at me, leaning on my arm as we made our way into the house, Thomas hot on our heels. I got her settled in a chair at the dining room table, and then moved to the kitchen, where the ever-present pot of soup—this one containing rice—was sitting just short of the hearth, hung from a hook that could be pushed closer to the fire to cook. I ladled her a bowl, noticing Thomas was waiting impatiently, shifting his weight from one side to the other. Once I had set Violet up to my satisfaction (and her dutiful amusement), I sat down, motioning for Thomas to join us.

Violet sipped at her soup while I turned to Thomas. “So, this drone thing—you’re saying we can use it tonight?”

“Of course! In fact, it’ll be perfect for helping you sneak around. Using it, I can monitor guard movement and guide you remotely on the subvocalizers.”

“Will it work from that distance, or will you have to be close?”

“I checked the radio transmitter that controls it—it will work at that range. Its configuration is quite interesting. It seems Ashabee based the transmitter design off the ones used for the subvocalizers, but it’s far more sophisticated. I looked at the code, and it is amazing. I’ve never seen anything quite like it. You see, it operates at a—”

“Thomas,” Violet interrupted gently, her spoon halfway between the bowl and her mouth. “Can anyone fly the drone, or do they need piloting experience?”

That was a good question. I turned to the small man and waited for him to respond.

“Oh, no, the controls are quite simple. Anyone could pilot it.”

“I see. And does it require two hands, or one?”

Understanding struck me, and I turned to Violet, watching as she delicately sipped her soup, the corners of her lips turning upward in a hopeful smile. Bemused by her cleverness, I sat back, watching the scene play out.

“Oh, just the one, really. It’s very user-friendly.”

Violet set her spoon down with a clink. “Excellent,” she replied, leaning forward and catching my eye. “So I can pilot it.”

Her words confirmed my supposition, and I hid my smile, waiting to see how Thomas would react.

“What?! But I wanted to… I mean… I realized what it was, so I should be able to