Selena

by V Guy

  “They’ll all be banned. You, on the other hand, will have those new materials and resources. They require uber-elite skills to process, which only your people legitimately possess, meaning you’ll be the only nation to use them.”

  Kilam raised an eyebrow. “I was under the impression I tested the limits.”

  Jones smirked. “You explored game content that no one bothered to investigate; your play is the highest compliment possible to a game designer. Programmers hide goodies just to have them found.”

  “Thank you, I guess.” Kilam looked uncertainly around him. “You didn’t come to threaten me, nor did you arrive to encourage me under the face of adversity. Why are you here?”

  The director’s expression sobered. “That’s a powerful woman.”

  Kilam quirked his lips. “And dangerous.”

  “What has she got on you?”

  “I couldn’t say. You?”

  Jones shrugged. “Figures. She asked for a favor. Her efforts at decreasing corruption across the Confederation have met resistance.”

  “I can imagine,” said Kilam, thinking of his new agreements. “How will your relationship affect me?”

  “You’re not human.”

  “Why should that matter?”

  Jones paced the railing. “I’d rather it was a human who dominated this game. Not only are you not human, you’re also a life-certificate, full GMI. If Kroes raises the issue, I’ll be obligated to seize your account.”

  Kilam furrowed his brows. “If she doesn’t?”

  “Cheonia makes you a lot of money. It also makes Xist a lot of money. Your war has significantly increased interest in Xist Nations, and your nation attracts a vast amount of corporate activity. If your ownership of the empire were publicized, those users you’re beating would raise a legitimate ruckus, and the rentals and fees we currently collect could evaporate. A complex property exception would need to be codified in advance.”

  “Then?”

  Jones pondered the bazaar. “Kroes has political aspirations. She’ll want support for her campaign. I could use that influence if she wins a seat, and my staff would mutiny if I blocked your access—they love seeing cheaters lose. As long as you obey the rules, you’ll keep the account.”

  Kilam paused. “You still haven’t explained your presence.”

  “Kroes was adamant about finding you. Your physical source was difficult to substantiate; you effectively masked account links and caused the assigned staff numerous headaches.” Jones eased closer to examine the control console. “When the account was linked to your known real-world information, my curiosity was piqued. I wanted to meet you. Why does she have such an interest in you?”

  “Again, I can’t tell you that.”

  Jones tilted his head and chuckled. “Playing it safe, I suppose. Smart move. I should probably do the same.”

  Kilam watched as he left then turned toward the panel. Kroes had behaved during this visit much as she had done during the previous ones, absently entering numbers into the console. This time, two sets had been entered. The first set indicated the duration of her “pleasure” watching, which well matched the planted triggers. The second reflected a corresponding set of triggers, which positively correlated with another set of subliminal messages. The success of the second was evidenced by their conversation.

  Captain Kroes was a busy woman, and her access to Xist prior to Kilam’s influence had been for the sole purpose of capturing a spy’s reports. Through several sets of observing Helen’s falsified surveillance, she became progressively more interested in Xist Nations and, more specifically, Cheonia. This power hungry, type-A, military and secret-service authority was suddenly interested in a game—his game—and the alteration of her mindset meant Kroes and Kilam would likely speak frequently. The numbers she entered confirmed that Helen’s false reports were good for multiple avenues of conditioning. A hard-headed, no-nonsense woman of authority would get her mind changed.

  22: Burdens

  Day 716: Evaline, Pathfinder

  The aroma of freshly cooked food brought helpers as Malik approached Pathfinder’s forward hatch. Jenna’s offhand desire had been overheard; Chuck and Joseph eagerly complied with Malik’s request. When they were unable to provide, another set of cooks intervened. To avoid the appearance of transferring favors, Malik paid them one centime below cost, and arrangements were made for carbon and water balances. The new food’s arrival, added to the markedly reduced infirmary time, meant happier passengers and crew.

  Helen and Arturo transitioned the new dishes to maintenance, allowing him the opportunity to scan and evaluate the food before it was ravaged by the ship’s occupants. Overhead indicator lights turned green, indicating the all-clear for movement.

  Violet and three initiates stepped forward immediately, drawn by the enticing aromas. Jenna quickly slid down the ladder and eagerly bounded forward. “What’d we get?”

  The four women were a study of differences, yet all of them shared this interest.

  “Doesn’t smell very spicy,” said one, making a disappointed huff. “Who made the curry, the dark one or the light one?”

  Malik set the first dish for analysis. “A detective’s wife. Chuck spoke highly of her cooking.”

  “Pasta,” said another, advancing to sneak a little finger into the second dish. “Good sauce.”

  Malik shoved her away and made a warning rumble. “Be a little considerate.”

  She made a small, defiant grin. “I’m a little hungry.”

  He scowled. “Then you can wait a little.”

  They gathered to watch him set the second dish in place. A third initiate was deep in thought as she scrutinized the process. “These look good, but I do miss fresh vegetables.”

  “We could grow a garden,” he said, appreciating the idea of unprocessed nourishment. “Maybe get some hotter peppers for people with tougher systems.”

  The woman smiled. “I’d like that.”

  “You aren’t one of those people.”

  “I could be, if you fixed me. I prefer interesting food.”

  He examined the analysis, saved the data, and stood away. “You’ll need to acclimate to interesting post-meal times for the moment. Take these to the galley. The dishes will be available through the request system tomorrow evening.”

  She kissed him lightly on the side of his maw and smirked. “Thanks.”

  Violet remained after the other women exited, posing a question about the fabricator base equations. Her departure led to the arrival of Ileana, requesting a change to the session schedule. Ileana’s exit was followed by Evelyn’s arrival.

  “She’s smooth as silk; she could be a dancer,” said Evelyn, stopping to watch Ileana climb the ladder. “The other women look clumsy around her, and I look clumsy around them. I think I received the short end of the stick.”

  “Institute routines are quite rigorous, and the women were chosen for the potential of physical beauty and excellence.” Malik stretched and popped the joints in his neck. “I could give you some balance and flexibility exercises?”

  She shook her head. “I have enough to do, thank you. Will I get any free time this weekend?”

  “They’ll be busy, I’ll be busy, and you’ll be busy—it’s only fair.”

  She glanced at Helen and Arturo. “‘They’ll’ be busy?”

  Helen synced her device with the analysis table to reveal a display. “I, with the help of at least one other, will be visiting every high-end manufacturing and repair facility in the Confederation to download images of their servers and copy their records. I’ll take a commando on most trips, but you would be preferable for some of them.”

  Evelyn raised her eyebrows.

  “The guys sort of stand out; they’re huge. You have the necessary skills, and you’ll better blend in.”

  Evelyn turned her attention to Malik and frowned. “Selena will know.”

  “I no longer intend to kill her master. It shouldn’t matter.”

&
nbsp; “That’s a major attitude shift.”

  “Saving her trumps killing him.”

  “Then I’m helping Helen?”

  “No, your job is to give our Fates their new organs.” Malik moved to the ladder and turned to smirk. “You can assist the others when you’re on breaks.”

  “Breaks are precious, and these operations will cover multiple weekends.”

  Malik nodded, examining an inventory. “As will downloading the data I want from every designated target. Manufacturers, equipment suppliers, fuel providers, and provisioners will be evaluated.”

  “The ships disappeared from the records. How will these tasks help?”

  Arturo turned to her. “They will reveal which institutions have blank spots in their records, and which services were disguised. From there, a profile of the censored customer can be formed. The possible guilty parties can then be narrowed further. Finally, we use direct surveillance to firmly establish the culprit.”

  Evelyn looked at Arturo as she pondered his words then turned her gaze to Malik. “Like with the ships at Evaline.”

  “Like with the ships at Evaline.”

  “Probability?”

  “Unknown, but greater than zero.”

  Her mind spun. “These operations are complex. I’ll need some help.”

  He paused. “Recruit a commando or two. Six conditioning reversal sessions await me tonight, eleven tomorrow, and twelve for Sunday. The strengthening sessions with five initiates are complete, but they have requested additional time. One initiate’s conditioning removal is near completion. I once thought it was challenging to make time for one woman…now I must make time for over two dozen.”

  Malik stilled, his skin color dulled, and his harmonic voice turned to a single, distraught tone. “I’ve never known a woman, much less pursued one. How easy it is to forget.”

  He straightened as he regained his composure. “The jumpers have been pressuring me to try again at Salient. I’ll need two people to watch the bridge and decoy once James goes asleep tomorrow.”

  His earlier recall continued to shadow his countenance. He gazed at the ladder, pondering the importance of his interactions with the patients and his relative personal insignificance. “The ship has departed Evaline. Be prepared for the first excursion after midnight.”

  Evelyn eased into his quarters after his evening’s final session. “We’ll miss Liola.”

  “She needed something to do.”

  “We had enough to do. I’ve had enough to do.”

  Malik made a weak smile. “I see you’ve had a successful day of surgeries.”

  She sat on the available seat and rubbed her eyes. “Plus a few trips to copy files. All of the Fates have new bladders and kidneys. Livers and lungs get done tomorrow.”

  “Kroes has given us two more jobs.”

  Evelyn groaned. “Payment?”

  “Arturo and Bomani.”

  “What happens when you run out of commandos?”

  Malik smiled thoughtfully. “She’ll get creative. Kroes has a great deal on her mind and shoulders. My commando spies tell me where she sleeps, travels, makes contacts, and conducts business. She’s a busy woman. That, plus the confidence I’m encouraging her to feel, is a good thing.”

  “She might get suspicious.”

  “Or she may become dependent. That makes me valuable.”

  “Valuable,” repeated Evelyn. “What are the jobs?”

  Malik paused, pondering the impact the tasks would have. “Question a higher-level CSA operative and find something valuable on Catricel.”

  “Helen’s mission.”

  He nodded.

  The jumpers appeared at the bulkhead. He sensed their desire and frowned. “Patience, you two. Evelyn, let’s eat. We’re still an hour out.”

  The initiates were frequent and persistent reminders of the crew’s mission, occupying every part of the ship during the days and nights. They usually moved and acted in groups of four or more, energetically and enthusiastically exercising or playing, and were constants in their individual tendencies.

  Two initiates were engaged in a completely unscripted game of Empire when he and Evelyn approached the galley. One of the women teased her friend about a previous move. They immediately stood and acknowledged his approach, then greeted Evelyn.

  “What do you think?” asked the first.

  Their game was a cacophony of ineptitude and spontaneity, a sign they were playing for fun. A smile formed on his maw. “Have you tried time travel?”

  They eagerly restarted the game, listening to his instructions before his dinner could begin. His meal was prolonged by additional initiates approaching to converse, and two more interruptions occurred as he walked to his quarters. Evelyn followed him into Mint and Pepper’s waiting presence.

  She looked at the jumpers in irritation. “No rest for the weary?”

  He nodded and lay on the mat. “You might find something else to do. This could be prolonged.”

  Evelyn glanced at the status panel, noting that they were in the center of space once occupied by the Salient system. “I’ll wait.”

  Malik gazed at the jumpers and made numerous odd grunts and high-pitched noises that ascended beyond her hearing. After a few minutes of this, he reclined and closed his eyes. His breathing became regular, his coloring descended to a steel-gray, and his ears lay flat against his skull. His left foreclaw curled upward, as if holding something. The other three feet were planted in a death grip as he anchored them to the deck.

  A translucent, bluish-silver sphere formed in the upturned claw, directly preceding the appearance of a tiny, contained, crimson sphere of fire. Malik had opened a breach.

  Evelyn stiffened. The tension within the quarters grew, increasing until the odd pressure seemed to press against her skin. She fought the desire to flee, staying until the feeling faded. Two hours passed.

  The fire was extinguished, Malik’s shield faded, and his eyes opened. He briefly glanced her direction, shook his entire form to loosen tight muscles and joints, and assumed the previous stance to reopen the breach. Evelyn took this opportunity to leave.

  He emerged from his quarters after numerous hours.

  She had set an alert for his appearance and met him at the galley during the early morning hours. He briefly turned while heating a meal. “You again set an alarm. You do have surgery today.”

  Evelyn sat at the table, her drawn expression matching his appearance. “I have surgery every day. What’s the word?”

  “You won’t like it.”

  Her lips formed a lopsided grin. “Do I ever?”

  Malik brought the meal to the table, appreciating the aroma of curry. After luxuriating in the fragrance, he took a bite. “The jumpers drilled me extensively on how to perform their routine. I have practiced, run scenarios, and pushed myself beyond their training. I know I can do it. I know I can find them.”

  He paused after several more bites. “But I’ve hit my limit, and Mint and Pepper are unable to help.”

  “But you know the problem?”

  Malik grimaced. “I set my position, opened a breach for both power and a customized substrate access, and sent my mind forth. I established an anchor I controlled. Using a calculated deviation from the Salient sun’s original position, I pressed my search toward the probable location of the largest gravitational source and detected something deep in the substrate. My first immersion missed the object entirely, and the second and third immersions established its new position. The last three efforts to touch what I presumed to be the star were hindered by a restriction keeping it beyond reach.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Restriction?”

  “My focus broke,” he replied, scowling. “Containment shields, breaches, anchors, and exploration all take concentration and energy, and the farther I pressed, the stronger the anchor needed to be, the greater the energy demanded for the reach, and the tighter the required control. The breach collapsed during each attempted contact.”
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  Evelyn rubbed her neck. “You’re right. I don’t like it.”

  “I believe the task is possible, but there’s an interference within me. I think it’s the nanobots.”

  She stared blankly, initially misunderstanding, then the solution to his problem became clear. Her countenance fell, and her frown deepened. “You’ve got to be kidding. You’re insatiable.”

  He tilted his head in apology. “The little machines must be cleansed from my body, and the organs that produce them must be eradicated. I’m your next patient.”

  23: Mantis

  Day 718: Hardress Alpha, Stellar Clipper

  Baron Hess’s eagerness made the voyage to the station Arcades especially torturous. Business meetings, facility evaluations, employee assessments, and assembly-line issues filled his days. His saving grace was the oracle. Considerable time had passed since she had saved his life, but she had since been particularly faithful about her exercise routines, and the habit encouraged him to follow suit. The benefits became quickly apparent. Stress that could have been giving him headaches was burned on treadmills and rowing machines, departing his body through sweat and fatigue.

  She was an incredible encouragement, voluntarily exercising alongside him and providing encouragement. Initially, her presence had been disconcerting, but soon he looked forward to the exercise. Feeling exhausted and refreshed was an extraordinary dichotomy, spending time in close proximity with this beautiful woman was intoxicating and addicting, and he wished to be worthy of her, never mind that nothing he did actually mattered.

  That seemingly minor yet important distinction perplexed him. Hess wished to be closer, knew that she felt an unimaginable intimacy, and was determined to be undefined by the attraction. It meant the oracle simultaneously attracted and repulsed him. It was a bewildering combination that made him a slave to her as much as she was in return. He desired her with every fiber of his being but knew with every erg of his will that responding was unacceptable.

  He welcomed the distraction that the completion of a three-year project offered. He waited impatiently, returned to examine business reports and proposals to kill time, and fruitlessly tried to read to relax. After being pulled in multiple directions, finally reaching one goal left him giddy, much like the sensation of having consumed one too many stimulants.