Ghost in the Machine (Corwint Central Agent Files)

by C. E. Kilgore

  “I think red is your color.”

  Ethan raised an eyebrow as both Hank and Tara started snorting in childish laughter. He didn’t have time to dwell on it as he felt Orynn’s head fall heavily against his shoulder. Her mind had finished burning the Drasa through and was now running on empty. He wasn’t sure if she would be able to keep her guise up and he eyed the exit.

  “We should get back to the ship.”

  “Did that kiss break your logic processor?” Torque leaned over. “You can’t take the Black Bitch out to the Row like that. She’s got a hefty rep to keep up. She only needs an hour or so and she’ll be back to normal.” He turned and motioned for them to follow him through the door behind the bar. “C’mon, she can rest in the store room for a while.”

  Torque led the group through a short corridor that went straight for a few paces before turning sharply to the left. Larx made to follow, but the look Ethan gave to him made him think better of the idea. He sighed again and took over Torque’s duties at the bar as the back door closed.

  The storeroom was a dimly lit hole filled with boxes of liquor labeled in in various languages. A steady drip of water echoed from a tiny sink in the corner and a pallet bed was against one wall, supported by dusty boxes of more alcohol. “It’s not much, but I don’t exactly sleep and company is a rarity.”

  Ethan nodded and set Orynn down on the mattress. The room may have been less than pleasant, but the sheets were clean. His eyes looked her over as she stirred against his touch. As he pulled his arms out from underneath her, she frowned in her sleep and mumbled something incoherently.

  When he turned back around, Torque was watching him. Hank and Tara were standing behind Torque, making small gestures towards Orynn and then to their hair and eyes. They sucked at charades, but the meaning was clear. They were no longer seeing the guise of Orynn’s black hair.

  As Ethan stared at him with an odd expression, Torque started feeling a bit uncomfortable in the small space. “So I’ll leave you to it then. Just come get me when she wakes. She’ll want more tea.”

  Torque held his hands up as Ethan’s expression grew distrustful. “No worries, I’ll make it myself this time. I don’t like seeing her like this anymore than you do. Larx didn’t mean any harm either, really. He’s a damn kid sometimes, but he would never do anything to hurt her.”

  Ethan gave a curt nod and watched Torque leave the room. Once the door closed, he looked to Hank and Tara who both had worried expressions. “I don’t think he could see the change.”

  Hank raised an eyebrow. “How?”

  Ethan turned back and looked at Orynn. “She must of uploaded a permanent visual file to his system during their first encounter.”

  “Wow.” Tara felt a hint of suspicion enter her mind. She was really starting to like Orynn, but this new information worried her for Ethan’s safety. “She can do that? Could she do that to you?”

  Ethan shook his head, but part of him was still unsure. “No. At least, I don’t think so.”

  Hank tugged on Tara’s elbow and started moving toward the door. He was happy that his friend was actually showing some real interest in a female, besides the ‘studies’ he knew the Mecha had been up to. He didn’t want Tara’s suspicion to ruin it. “Tara and I will head over to the drakka and silk vendors while we wait. I’m sure we can handle those negotiations now that you got us the ale for free. Then we’ll pick up Brom and come back for the ale.”

  “Alright.” Ethan tore his gaze away from Orynn and looked back at Hank, who still had a goofy smirk on his face. “What?”

  “You uh... you have some lipstick here... and here... and there...” Hank snorted in a poorly contained laugh as he pointed to various places on Ethan’s face. Now it was Tara pulling on his elbow and dragging him out of the room.

  When the door closed behind them, Ethan was thankful for the silence that followed. The heavy door and thick walls effectively blocked out the sounds of the club beyond. The only audible rhythms now were the sounds of the dripping faucet and Orynn’s breathing. Walking over to the sink, he bent over and looked at his face in the small corroded mirror. Hank had not been exaggerating. Her dark red lipstick was smudged across both his lips and a few places that surprised him.

  Well that had been... intense.

  He glanced over his shoulder at the sleeping Vesparian. Intense and wrong.

  He frowned and angrily yanked at a tattered rag that hung from a bolt on the wall. She had been obviously intoxicated. The hot water knob squeaked as he turned it. He soaked the rag, turned the faucet off and wrung the rag tightly. As he removed the markings left by her lips, his eyes kept looking to her reflection in the mirror. Sure, most of the girls he had taken to his bed had been just as liquored up, but he didn’t want that with her.

  Then why did you kiss her?

  “Because I wanted to.” Ethan tossed the rag into the sink and stared at his reflection. For the first time, he had actually wanted to.

  He leaned into the mirror, looking deeply into his own eyes. The nagging doubt kept reminding him that these ideas, these feelings, could all just be part of some file she had implanted into his system. She had obviously done it to Torque and who knows how many other Mecha. Why should it be any different with him? The lingering sensations running through his systems from the effect of her kiss left him wanting more, but how could he trust it?

  A soft moan from Orynn brought his attention back to her. Could he trust her?

  He washed out the rag, wrung it again and carried it over to her. Sitting down gently on the edge of the bed, his hips couldn’t help but touch her. The motion stirred her body, and her eyes fluttered open for a moment then closed.

  “Rusa, Brel. Rusa.”

  Ethan tilted his head at her whispered words as he raised the warm cloth to her face and wiped off the smudged lipstick. Once her face was clean, he set the rag aside and looked down at her in silence. Every so often, her lips would move as if she was speaking to someone, and her eyes were moving rapidly under their black eye-shadow covered lids. A smile formed on his face as he wondered if she always talked in her sleep.

  The memories of seeing her sleeping that night, and what had followed, stirred within him and ignited his arousal. He cursed at himself for acting like a damn Breather and rose off the bed. He stepped away from her and tossed the rag back in the sink. His eyes stared back from his reflection in the mirror. “Get ahold of yourself, Ethan.”

  “Vorsithkae, Ethan.”

  At first, he thought the soft whisper had been in his head, an echo of what she had been saying to him on the dance floor. Looking at her through the mirror, he saw her mercury eyes half open and focused intently on his reflection. There was a primal desire in that look from her, and it took every ounce of resolve he had not to turn around and take her against the mattress in this room full of impaired judgments and lost inhibitions. The moment of semi-coherent awareness vanished and she fell back into her dreams with a long sigh.

  He spent the next half hour seated as far away from her as possible amidst the crates and dust. His thoughts cycled themselves between fighting against the doubts that this was all part of some hidden plot to control him, and fighting against the growing urges he was feeling to join her writhing body on the mattress. He considered going to check on things beyond the room, perhaps to see how Hank and Tara had made out with their trades or what was taking Brom so long to come get the ale. The thought of leaving her alone like this left a bad taste in his mouth, so he sat on the crates and brooded in silence.

  That was until Orynn’s movements against the mattress intensified suddenly. Her hands balled into fists, then flexed open. They formed stiff claws and dug into the fabric beneath her. Ethan rushed over to her, fearing she was having some sort of seizure. Her mouth opened and her lungs gasped for breath. She wasn’t having a seizure, but she was drowning in some memory that was more real to her than the air in the room.

  “Orynn, wake up.” Ethan grasped her shoulders
and lifted her away from the mattress. “Come back to me.”

  Her eyes shot open towards the ceiling and she finally took in the breath she had been after. Crumpling into his arms, her head fell against his shoulder. In her eyes were the hot sting of tears and on her lips was the same word whispered over and over again. “Rusa.”

  “It’s alright, Orynn.” Ethan held her against his chest for several minutes as her body calmed and the whispering stopped. When her body went rigid in his grasp, he knew she was fully awake. He lifted her away from him and gave her a smile.

  “Welcome back. You had us all pretty worried.”

  “Ethan?” Orynn blinked and looked at him in confusion. Her eyes darted around the room and an understanding at the familiar surroundings came across her face. She looked back at Ethan. “Larx?”

  Ethan nodded. “Apparently this isn’t the first time you’ve woken up here.”

  Her face darkened into a scowl. “I am going to skin that Ruisk once and for all.” She started to get up, but the world spun around her as soon as she stood. Ethan was quickly at her side to steady her. She let out a long breath to quell the rising nausea.

  “In a few minutes, perhaps.” Concern clouded over her anger. “Did I hurt anyone?”

  “No. You don’t remember anything?” He didn’t know if he should be disappointed or relieved.

  She took a shaky step away from him and rubbed her hands up and down her arms as she tried to remember.

  “I remember the tea.” She took another step.

  “Then there was this pulsing rhythm.” Another step.

  “It was so loud.” Another step.

  “And then...” She stopped. Her hand raised to her mouth and she brushed her fingers across her lips.

  “Vorsithkae.” He mimicked her Vesparian accent flawlessly and stepped up behind her, hoping she wasn’t regretting or revolted by what happened. “What does it mean?”

  She kept her back to him, unable to look at his face after what she had allowed to happen. She tried to push the emotions forming within her heart away by focusing on his question. “My people’s language is complex in its simplicity. We have far fewer words than the other known lingual races, because we are empathic. We use the same word to define many different things. The meaning of the word is altered by the tone of our voice, the context in which it is used, who we are speaking to and, most importantly, the emotions we convey with it.”

  She was avoiding his question and he wanted to know why. If she was disgusted by what happened, then fine. It’s not like it would be any different than all of his previous experiences. He wanted to see it in her eyes and finally be done with these strange stirrings she was causing in him.

  He grasped her shoulder and turned her around to face him. His hand slid under her chin and raised it slowly so that he could see her face. The look of disgust that he had been expecting was nowhere to be found. She was afraid.

  “Then when you said it to me, out there, what did it mean?”

  “It meant...” Run. Run now. Stop looking at him like that and run from this! Her mind yelled at her heart, but she couldn’t hear it.

  “Vorsithkae, Ethan.” Her heart sighed in happiness as her mind screamed. “It means I want to kiss you.”

  “You wanted...” He timidly corrected her. It couldn’t be real. The odds were against him. One hundred and twenty-three to one. “The Drasa...”

  Orynn knew she should step away and let him believe it was the Drasa. It was in his best interest for her to stop this now. Have you really learned so little? Do you not remember?

  Her heart pounded loudly against her breast to drown out the cynical warnings of her mind. She could never forget, but she could never deny her heart, either. Her hand caressed his cheek and she slowly shook her head at his questioning eyes.

  “Vorsithkae.”

  The restraints inside of him broke apart as she spoke the word and the connection between them ignited again. It hadn’t been the Drasa. She wanted... she wants...

  His arm looped around the small of her back and pulled her up against his chest as his head leaned down to greet her waiting lips. It started with the soft brushing of his lips against hers. The connection popped and arced between them and the softness turned to hunger. He took her mouth in his and tasted the sweetness of her lips with his tongue.

  She let out a soft moan and the hunger within him became a driving need. One of his hands tangled in her hair as it pressed against her back, his fingers intertwining themselves in its silken tresses. His other hand migrated down the small of her back and into the slit of her crimson skirt. As his hand moved against the skin of her thigh, she responded by wrapping her arms around his neck and deepening the kiss. His fingers dug into her skin and slid past the hem of her short black miniskirt. Grabbing the back of her thigh, he lifted her leg up and pulled her roughly against him.

  When the hard bulge of his groin hit between her parted thighs, her eyes opened wide as her senses came back to her. She pulled out of the kiss and leaned her head back, breathing heavily and looking at the ceiling.

  You cannot do this to him.

  Her heart wanted to be with him, but it could not deny the logic of her mind. She felt him nuzzling into her neck and pulling her leg more tightly against him. The ache sparking between her legs shot a tingling pain of desire up her spine and threatened to break her resolve.

  I cannot do this to him.

  She sighed and tried the hide the tears in her eyes by burying her face into his hair. “Rusa, Ethan.”

  The sadness in her voice cut into the desire that had taken over him. He opened his eyes and slowly lowered her leg back down. What have you done? She isn’t some drunk whore you can just take to bed. What were you thinking?

  As he breathed in the scent of her hair, he knew that he hadn’t been thinking at all. He lowered her back to the ground and stepped away from her. Her head was lowered and she wouldn’t look up at him, but he saw the tear as it dripped from her chin. I’m such an asshole.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have...”

  “Shhh” She couldn’t take the hurt in his voice. “It is not something you did. I am just...”

  Dangerous. Unstable. Dishonest. Foolish.

  She didn’t want him to see her eyes, so she leaned her forehead on his chest gripped onto the fabric of his shirt. “Rusa, Ethan. I am so very sorry.”

  Rusa. Now he understood the meaning of the word. She wasn’t angry or upset about something he had done. She was sorry for stopping him, and for so much more that he couldn’t begin to understand.

  “It’s alright, Orynn.” All he could do was hold her against him with the hope that she could truly understand that it was alright and that there was nothing to be sorry for. When the noise of the door handle broke into their world, she stepped quickly away from him and wiped her eyes. The warmth of her body dissipated from his chest and left him empty.

  “Oh good, you’re awake!” Torque walked into the room and smiled. He was followed by Brom, Hank and Tara.

  Orynn placed the well-practiced dark smirk back on her now barren lips as her guise reformed around her. “And angry. Where is that damn Ruisk?”

  “You kidding?” Torque laughed with a shake of the head. “That coward booked it out of here as soon as he could.”

  Orynn sighed. “Remind me to repay his favor in kind next time I am passing through.”

  “Oh, don’t worry, you’ve already hit him where it hurts most.” Torque pointed over to a stack of crates with writing in Kilari on them. “His pride and his pocketbook. Ale’s on the house, hon.”

  Hank looked over the shoulders of Torque and Brom and gave a small wave to Orynn. “Tara and I already purchased the other supplies and loaded them on the ship. We just need the ale loaded up and we are good to go.”

  “Tell you what,” Torque rubbed his chin for a moment. “I’ll get Emry to load these up for you and take them over to the Black Bitch.” He pointed at Orynn. “You should get some
food in you, and I hear that ishka-soup vendor you like has set shop back up on the second promenade.”

  Orynn gave Torque a genuine smile and stepped up to him. She gently touched his arm. “Thank you for always looking after me.”

  Torque waved a hand dismissively. “It’s what friends do, right?”

  It’s what friends do. A voice from her past echoed the sentiment and brought forth an unwanted memory, but she kept the smile on her face. “Right.”

  The soup had indeed been a needed warmth in her stomach, and judging by the six bowls Hank and Brom put away between them, she had not been the only one in need of food. As they ate, Hank and Tara told her how they had bartered for the meat and silks with animated gestures and excited voices. They were rightfully proud of the price they had gotten and had been invigorated by the experience.

  Tara turned out to be quite the skilled negotiator, and she had managed to get the silks at two-thirds the price that Orynn was hoping for. If Jehdra was going to listen to her recommendations at the end of this, Orynn was strongly considering telling her to put the Zera in the Rim missions list. They were naturals.

  “And then Hank spit the meat onto the floor, growled and walked away!” Tara laughed and Hank shrugged sheepishly. “It did the trick though. When the vendor realized other potential customers were turning away from his booth, he went after Hank and told him he had better product in the back.”

  “Impressive.” Orynn raised an eyebrow. “And brave. Drakka meat vendors tend to be very arrogant about their product, and their reaction to insult only goes two ways. If he had not offered to show you the meat in the back, then he would have shot you in the back.”

  Hank swallowed and set down his spoon. “Really?”

  Orynn didn’t answer and smiled down into her soup.

  Brom chuckled. “I can never tell when she’s joking.”