“Ah,” Jaelle says. The mental effort she is making not to project any conscious thought at me is quite heroic in scale. She keeps repeating the expression about an impossibly colored animal to herself over and over to block any accidental transmission to me.
Dusko’s evil merriment is less restrained, but he too, at least out of a sense of self-preservation, is trying to keep his thoughts to himself. I look down at my chest. I seem very well proportioned to myself. These were the dimensions of the original game simulation that I modeled myself on, though I had not assessed it in the sense of mature sexual attractiveness at the time. I shelve these thoughts as the Guildmaster speaks again.
“The lieutenant is at the Star and Comet Lodge on level 27, radial 45b tonight. This might be a good time to meet him. I will supply you with video of him and any intelligence we have gained so far. The rest I will leave to you. Your compensation will be based on the value of whatever information you extract.”
“Plus expenses and an accommodation at the same lodge,” Jaelle returns.
“Excellent. Keep me posted on your progress,” Hartain finishes
Jaelle fades out of my mind and I mentally tune to Wrik, warn him not to react and mentally relay what has transpired, minus the commentary on my secondary sexual characteristics.
His usually solemn expression threatens to break into a grin, which would be hard to explain to the sewage engineers showing their diagrams to us. “So, Jaelle is assigned to seduce me? Should I play hard to get?”
I consider. “It is improbable that a human male of your age would turn down—”
“I was kidding, Maauro.”
“You will have to put up a pretense of not knowing her.”
“Hmnnn, usually role-playing comes along much later in a relationship.” The fact that he maintains his silly grin persuades me that this comment is not serious and can be safely ignored.
“May we return to what we were working on?” I ask.
He sighs. “If we must.” His gaze returns to the large screen where one of the city engineers is describing the wonders of the sewage system.
Chapter Eighteen
After a day spent in the underbelly of the city, I sat in the window booth overlooking the main corridor of Tir-a-Mar, gazing down the broad plazas, the various levels of slidewalks rolling past shops and restaurants. Behind me, a two story waterfall tumbled down to the first level of the bar restaurant.
Outside, the simulated daylight and sky above were nearly impossible to tell from the real thing. Since there were representatives of almost every species of the Confederacy here, the sky and light levels were adjusted for the populations. Some days were the stormy gray preferred by the damp-loving Moroks, or the sullen reddish orange light of worlds preferred by the Dua-Denlenn. Fortunately most of the oxygen-breathers had evolved under yellow stars and today was a bright spring day.
One could choose to look out at the poison sky of Cimer with its ripping blasts of lightning from the city’s edges, but most didn’t, preferring to ignore the murky methane sky.
I was aware of a number of parties surreptitiously watching me, but I had no idea what side or sides they represented. Word was getting around the floating city regarding the Confed officer and all of the disruption his visits were causing; clearly I was persona non grata, to be treated properly but not more.
Maauro returned with drinks. A tall cool beer for me and some frothy, fruit drink of the sort she preferred.
“Anything interesting from your check-in with the bad guys?” I asked as she slid the beer in front of me.
“Nothing beyond an expression of sympathy for my being saddled with the task of keeping an eye on you.”
I sipped the beer; it was excellent, full of the tangy flavor of a spring. “I noticed the lack of interest in me. And here I thought I was a charming rascal.”
“You are,” Maauro assured me in all apparent seriousness. “The good news is that it means people are disinclined to talk with me as well, lest the contagion of my assignment embrace them.”
“That’s a pretty typical reaction across all species we’ve met so far.”
Maauro turned her head. “We are being watched, but I do not detect any sound amplifying devices and the waterfall should prevent us from being picked up with common equipment. We can speak freely. If this changes I will address you by your code name.”
“Got it.”
“Do not react, but Jaelle is approaching us.”
I leaned back and let my eyes roll over the restaurant. There, coming up the escalator, was Jaelle, dressed to kill. She wore a one-piece, bronze-colored outfit with one shoulder uncovered. Her long legs gleamed a tawny gold. Cutouts in the top revealed her firm stomach and barely covered the underside of her breasts. Jewels gleamed in her hair and hung from her golden cat-like ears. The effect was of an athletic bronze statue of a goddess of the hunt, come to life.
“I said, “don’t react,” Maauro repeated with asperity.
“It would have been more suspicious if I didn’t,” I replied. “A Morok or an Okaran might not be interested in a Nekoan female, but they appeal to most others.”
This seemed to be true. Admiring glances came from many of the other tables and from both genders. One group of Nekoan males in the corner seemed particularly intrigued, much to my irritation. The males of her species looked more like large hunting cats than did the females, whose small features seemed more human. I started wondering what they would look like as rugs.
“She says it is good to see you,” Maauro said, “and she is looking forward to her mission of seducing you by doing unspeakably naughty things that I should not know about. She is wearing a listening device to persuade Hartain of her usefulness, so you will have to pretend not to know each other.”
“Kinky fun,” I said. “Tell her to look this way in fifteen seconds so I can wave her over.”
“She says fine. Then she will ignore you and you can get off your ass and come over and pick her up.”
I tried to keep a straight face. “Now she plays hard to get.”
“Her reply is an obscenity I will not bother to relay.”
Jaelle turned her beautiful golden eyes in my direction. I raised my glass and gestured at the open chair next to us. She gave me an encouraging smile but indicated the seat next to her. I gave Maauro an apologetic look. She ignored me in favor of her fruity drink. I stood and walked over, noting with amusement some flashed teeth among the Nekoans in the corner.
“Hello,” I said to Jaelle.
She looked me up and down. “Are you this Confed officer I hear so many bad things about?”
“I am that very same lonely officer, merely doing his duty to God and Galaxy. I seem to have annoyed the locals however and they are keeping clear of me.”
Jaelle looked at Maauro. “Well not all of them. She’s kind of cute in an underdeveloped way. She might have quite a figure…when she grows up. Or do you like them young?”
I coughed. “Ah, my minder there is assigned. She’s really quite sweet, making the best of a bad situation.”
“Sweet you say,” Jaelle added, an evil sparkle in her eyes, “is fine for children. I lean to the spicy side myself. “
“Fascinating,” I said. “I’m Jedaya Fels, commanding officer of the CSS Pisces.
“Fyvia Minogue, Master of the SS Longshot.”
“A fellow Captain, lucky me. Where are you from?”
“Oh, many places. I’m in Trade.”
Jaelle and I chatted for a while, actually enjoying the play we were doing for Hartain.
“Do you have a room in this pretty place that we could visit?” Jaelle added.
“Yes,” I looked back at Maauro. “However I think my minder will insist on seeing us to it. Maybe even staying for a while.”
“Well if she overstays her welcome maybe I’ll spank
her little behind and send her home to mother. It must be getting past her bedtime.”
“Er, she is a bit older than she looks.”
“Good. I didn’t fancy sharing a bed with a kit-molester.”
“Why don’t I go over and tell her what’s going on. Oh, one thing, since I am here on assignment, I’ll have to run a scanner over you for bugs and such. I think minder-girl might insist on it too.”
“Oh, a strip search. This gets kinkier by the minute. I like it. Go tell your friend. See if you can’t shake her off. I’ll use the ladies room and meet you by the elevator. ”
Jaelle sashayed off, leaving me with the bill. I waved Maauro over.
“Jaelle’s ducked into the bathroom. She’ll remove any listening device Hartain gave her since I warned her you’d do a security scan.”
“Excellent thinking.”
I billed everything to my room and tipped extravagantly. Maauro and I waited for Jaelle by the elevators, ignoring the other guests who walked by us, some staring at my uniform.
Jaelle walked over. She looked about to see if anyone was near. “Are we discreet?”
“Yes,” Maauro said. “You left the bug in the bathroom?”
“I flushed it and sent a message to Hartain that I thought it was too dangerous to keep it on my person or leave it in the bathroom.”
“Plausible,” Maauro judged.
“Let’s get upstairs,” I said, trying to keep my mind on business and off how incredibly good Jaelle looked in that outfit. She gave me a smug smile that said I wasn’t being entirely successful.
Fortunately the elevator came quickly. As the doors closed, Jaelle wrapped herself around me for a long kiss.
“Ms. Minogue,” Maauro said archly, “This is a public elevator with surveillance cameras.”
“Don’t worry, Little One, I wasn’t planning on going any further, yet.”
The doors slid open and we made quick speed to my room where Maauro had left the robospider on guard.
We retreat to the room and slip into it unobserved.
“The Guild,” I say to Jaelle, “is either going to be very impressed by your powers of seduction or they will call Wrik easy.”
“Shouldn’t you be getting on with the seduction?” Wrik asks.
“Yes,” Jaelle purrs.
“That is not necessary for the deception,” I say. “There are no surveillance devices operating.”
“Oh it’s very necessary,” Wrik says, gazing at Jaelle.
“Have a heart, Maauro,” Jaelle said. “We haven’t seen each other for weeks.”
“Will this take long?” I ask in exasperation.
“Nope,” Jaelle said. “Like I said, it’s been weeks.”
“Well it’s going to take some time,” Wrik protests, “and we could use some privacy.”
“Hah,” Jaelle says. “She might as well climb into bed with us, or did you forget that we are all linked head-to-head?”
I give her a look. “I can temporarily block your channels, though it is ill advised under mission parameters for us to be isolated while in enemy territory.”
Jaelle grabs Wrik’s hand. “Isolated hell, we’ll be in the bedroom and unless your cover story includes a threesome, you might want to slip back down to the bar for an hour or preferably two.”
I feel the arousal that stirs her body through our link. Perhaps it is because I am “female” after a fashion I find this more accessible than the sensations I am feeling from Wrik. She is eager to be with her lover. The feelings are disconcerting at this close range. I am having some difficulty distinguishing the sensations emanating from her body from my own. The link is overloading.
I sigh. “Perhaps you will be back in control of yourselves if you get it out of your systems. Very well, I am off to the bar. I am charging the drinks to your room.” I sever my link to them, then shoot a quick message to Dusko that Jaelle will be off-line with him. Either he understands the situation or his usual lack of curiosity is asserting itself. I get the equivalent of a mental grunt. I am surprised by how alone I now feel in my own head as I exit the lodge room.
Briefly I toy with the idea of reopening my link to Jaelle. The constant flow of information on how she uses her sensual and youthful body has been fascinating to me. While some of the sensations have analogues in my own body and existence, many do not. The one that they are involved in now does not. I have experienced affection from my network, mostly from Wrik, but never overt sexuality. As my gender aspects are purely adoptive, mostly to allow me to interact more easily with biologicals, I have not seen any point to this. But that was before I was so closely linked to Jaelle.
Of course, they would not know if I did connect. My control of the connection is such that I have no doubt of this. Yet, something holds me back. It is Wrik. It would be an offense against the love he has for me. He would be upset, embarrassed in his somewhat conservative nature if he knew. This is illogical, as he will not know. Still it would be a falsehood lying between us. I cannot become a being who has such secrets. I will have to live and learn another way.
I reach the bar, signal the waitress and retire to a quiet corner. I am not in a mood for company. I feel alone and somewhat frustrated – I know it is because of what is happening upstairs, but I am not clear on why. This bears further thought. I think many times faster than any biological, yet in the time I could have plotted several star jumps, I find my understanding has not expanded.
I have always preferred my artificial body to any biological one. Objectively, there is little to choose between Jaelle’s body and mine in ease and flexibility – yet hers moves with an inner music that makes me feel graceless by comparison. I realize that it is not something I can learn, but is in the nature of the life forms that we are. I am artificial life, in that the true spontaneous life gave rise to me and was necessary to my creation. Without biological life, there would be no opportunity and I realize with some shock, no need for AI’s. We are the stepchildren of the biologicals, called into creation by them.
I have considered that self-aware AIs, and there must be more than just I, were the logical successor to natural life, exceeding them in strength, durability and applied intelligence. Have I made improper assessment of the value of spontaneous creativity and sheer imagination? Is a life of 10,000 years, one hundred times better than a life of 100 years?
I can lift vastly more than Jaelle can, but past a certain weight I must get help or admit defeat when my load parameters are exceeded. So is it truly a case of my kind being superior and inheriting the universe? Or do I measure the matter with the wrong instruments? On an infinite slope, does it matter that I am slightly further from the bottom than Jaelle and Wrik?
I look out the window and up. I am deprived even of the stars for company. Yes, a sprinkle of shining lights glimmer above me, but it is a simulation and my telescopic vision is not fooled. We are too far down in the horrid murk that is Cimer’s atmosphere for any star to be seen. The stars have always been precious to me. From my initial moments of self-awareness I have loved their beauty. I know they are merely gas fusion reactors, yet somehow I have always seen them as more. I feel a kinship, possibly because I have fusion reactors within me. I am of the stars and they are of me. This has always comforted me.
I decide to do something I have learned from biologicals, not to look too hard at something. If I dial back on my visual acuity, the simulations are indistinguishable to stars seen through atmosphere.
I sip my drink, enjoying the complex flavors.
The waitress comes by. “Want another? Skinny little thing like you can afford it.”
“Yes, thank you.”
She follows my gaze. “It’s a pretty night.”
I smile at her. “Yes, I think it is.”
Chapter Nineteen
After Maauro left, Jaelle and I tumbled into bed —laughing and
simply giddy with relief at being alone and safe, even if only for two hours. We made love the first time with an almost frantic haste.
Jaelle laughed. “You should have seen your face, Wrik.”
“I had no idea my future consort would misbehave so in public.”
“Shhhh,” she said, “Maauro will hear.”
“She disabled the link. Besides you know she can only hear you if you push a thought at her.”
Jaelle sighed. “And you, of course, always believe her.”
I smiled. “Let’s not fight about Maauro.”
After a second, she smiled back. “Right. Let’s not think about anybody but us for the next two hours.”
As I took Jaelle in my arms, I had to quell a momentary disquiet about her feelings about Maauro.
Released from the most urgent need we took our time, with soft touches, intimate caresses until we were ready to come together again.
Afterwards Jaelle stretched out on the bed in pantherish splendor. I raided the mini-bar and hit the com screen to order room service by automatic delivery. Champagne and a plate of desserts arrived shortly through the tube system.
“You must have a very forgiving expense account,” Jaelle said, as I carefully opened the champagne bottle. I poured the golden bubbly into the two flutes that had ridden up with it.
“I think it comforts the city officials to think that there is a possibility of compromising me with such lavish treatment. And after all there are no regular Confed military quarters on Tir-a-Mar. I could hardly be expected to bunk in with the Ribisan Military.”
“No, methane is bad for the lungs.” Her golden eyes clouded for a moment and it didn’t require a telempathic link to know she was thinking of my near death in the airlock, rescuing Maauro. It had actually been closer than that, but Maauro had shown some discretion in how much she’d told her and I agreed.
“True,” I replied, striving for lightness. “I could do without the stink and the cold.”
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