Designate number 006252. Costa Gilliard, tech-empath. Born in the British Collective, EU District. One of five on the planet. Possesses the psionic ability to read and write code to any machines with a digital brain. Allows for control of all technology that uses data for implementation. It is believed that few data sources can be permanently blocked from his influence.
His powers are identical to his twin. Insufficient testing has been available to determine which one’s skills are stronger. This ability marks him as highly dangerous to global security. Abuse of his abilities could be devastating. Must be sponsored to an appropriate service. If not, he is marked for retirement.
Subject is highly intelligent, having solicited appropriate sponsorship for his and his twin brother, Poll, 006251, to prevent being sequestered in Quarantine for security purposes. Powerful, but remarkably fragile. Projectile or other low-tech weapons are a proper defense against his abilities. Physical force recommended.
Deceased. Exterminated and incinerated via Quarantine order A1-sw7762.
006252’s name was Costa? The image accompanying his file was a younger version for Costa McQuillen, except the tattoos across his cheek were iridescent numbers instead of abstract designs.
Arbor gathered the details and assembled the best theory he could, incomplete as they were.
Did Poll, a para-human, upon finding out that Swaden, the architect of para-human enslavement, murdered his brother, kill him in protest and then release all the other para-humans in defiance? The release was handled poorly and without direction. An act of passionate revenge? So many were killed because of it. The implications of the act were mind staggering.
If Costa was a rare survivor, being a para-human would leave him a target. It would make sense to change his name and traffic himself to the cluster. But all records confirmed the brothers were dead. Costa Gilliard was dead. Arbor had watched Swaden pull the trigger and read the incineration order. The DNA ID confirmed it.
He didn’t understand. What the fuck was going on?
Even if he somehow survived, Arbor wasn’t convinced Costa was harmless. In spite of all the hardships he must have endured, there could still be a real danger to everyone on board. There were still the strange instances on the ship he hadn’t defined. And what did Costa want with Priest? Beyond the obvious?
It was frustrating only being able to confirm so much. The answers he had were pieced together without a solid reference, and he was damned if he was going to walk up to an unlisted para-human and ask.
Until he knew more, Arbor resolved himself to keeping quiet. There was no need to cause a panic if there wasn’t a reason for it.
He would, however, plan to be better prepared in case a crisis surfaced.
Chapter Seven
YESTERDAY, MR. WIGGLES was sighted in sick bay. Naturally, he was nowhere to be found when Arbor chased after him. How much longer could this go on before they became bored?
Arbor was doing what he could to insinuate himself into the crew in general, but conversations coming to a halt as he entered a room would grate on a saint’s nerves. The men were being polite, but they weren’t exactly welcoming him either.
Trying to find some truth in Captain Danverse’s wisdom the other day, Arbor spent his time attempting to not find achondroplasiaphobia in every crew member. He repeated to himself being a dwarf did not make him a freak, hoping it would sink in. He said hello to people as they walked by, which often made them look twice before returning the sentiment. Even the chef, Gamin, was kind when Arbor accidentally walked in on him and his green-haired cook, Erron, engaged in a fierce sixty-nine session on the kitchen floor.
Arbor apologized for the interruption and said he’d come back later. Gamin just waved. His mouth was full.
It wasn’t the first time Arbor had walked in on crew members in various sex acts. Did they not understand the idea of using their quarters? Or were they blasé about the whole activity? He couldn’t be sure.
Maybe Danverse was right about setting aside his uptightness and aligning himself with the crew’s idea of fun. Well, now wasn’t the time to decide, he had work to do.
Following a path of corrupted data, Arbor found himself in the hallways near the cargo bays. Scanning along the wall, he tracked the source of this disruption behind one of the bulkhead’s maintenance access panels.
As many times as he tried, his equipment couldn’t get an accurate connection with the tech behind the wall. The panel was shielding the memory caches enough to make this harder than it needed to be. He needed to reinitialize the minor system to purge the foreign data out of the operating software, but it he couldn’t access it remotely, he’d have to do it direct.
Stowing his pad in his bag, he examined the panel. With his short arm span, the handles were spaced too far apart to make this simple.
“Mrs. Claus, unlock maintenance panel AJ-62, please.”
The magnetic locks disengaged with a pair of soft thunks behind the wall.
“Panel AJ-62 is now unlocked, Mr. Kittering.”
He scratched his head as he planned his next move. He couldn’t grip both handles at once, so he’d need to do them one at a time. The first handle shifted with a twist easily enough. The panel moved slightly but didn’t open.
“Okay, I can do this.”
Placing one hand on the panel to steady it, he turned the second handle. It released easily, causing the door to come out of the wall. It was heavier than Arbor anticipated, and without the leverage of using two handles, he couldn’t control it. The dense metal section fell against his chest and face and teetered backward as its weight began to topple him.
His feet buckled as a pair of large hands snatched the panel from his hands.
“Whoa, careful there!”
Arbor fell back on his butt as the newcomer pushed the panel to one side, setting it on the floor with a weighted thud. He should have been complaining about his sore ass, but he couldn't stop ogling his savior. Up, up, up, his gaze went over the handsome stranger. Swollen with muscle under his mocha skin, the seams of his tight black shirt were in danger of bursting at any moment. Sculpted quads stretched his breeches in indecent ways as he knelt down next to Arbor. A mix of embarrassment and interest flushed Arbor’s cheeks.
“You okay there?” The pistol strapped to the man's hip marked him as security.
“Yeah, thanks. The panel was heavier than I expected.”
“You should have asked for help.”
“I didn’t know anyone else was around. Sorry about that.”
“It’s all good. You’re Arbor, right? I’m Angus. Nice to meet you.”
Angus reached out, offering his hand. Arbor was so caught up in Angus’s chocolate eyes, he almost forgot to take it. His stubby hand all but disappeared in Angus’s grip.
“Nice to meet you too.”
With a minimal effort, Angus pulled Arbor to a standing position. “What are you doing here?”
“Cleaning up some data corruption. Needed to patch a hard line in here behind the panel. Felt like popping it open and seeing if I could squish myself.”
Angus’s chuckle was deep and rich. “Sounds good. Anything else you need help with here?”
“Well…” Arbor had a sudden inspiration. Other crew members took advantage of a situation. Why couldn’t he? He ran his hand up the security officer’s leg, feeling the dense power coiling through it. “I have an idea of something I could help you with.”
Angus raised an eyebrow. “Really? You think so?” Angus didn’t stop his hand or say no as Arbor tracked his way across his fly. The mound inside was thick and solid like the rest of him. Arbor pressed his palm against the mass, and when Angus stood perfectly still and made no refusal, he took it as permission.
The zipper gave way easily, and Arbor needed both hands to heft Angus’s ample genitals into the air. The weighty orbs didn’t fit in one hand and he couldn’t get the other around the spongy shaft. Angus was so tall, Arbor barely had to lean forward to str
etch his mouth over the head. He dug his tongue into the open slit as he sucked and stroked the shaft, coaxing it to harden. Angus’s cock filled his mouth now. What did he plan to do with the complete beast?
Angus placed a gentle hand on Arbor’s head and wrist and extracted himself. His voice was deep and sympathetic.
“I…I’m sorry. I’m just not really into this.”
The scorching heat in Arbor’s face had nothing to do with arousal. “Oh. Sure.”
Angus stammered as he made himself decent once again. “I-I should go. It’s not you, really. Leave the panel there. I’ll get it once I come back around.”
“Yeah. No problem.” Arbor couldn’t even watch as Angus turned and resumed his rounds, vanishing around the corner.
Well, that was a great way to bolster one’s ego. Most men he knew wouldn’t turn down a blow job from a toothless whore, so Arbor's self-esteem was floating somewhere near the bottom of the recycler filter, placing him underneath the residual scum the machine always managed to miss.
With a shaky inhale, he swallowed down the humiliation.
Plugging into the exposed circuit access, Arbor performed his job. He purged the system and reset its parameters for proper functionality, making a log of relevant variations to look at later. At least he thought that’s what he’d done. The shame in his head was deafening. Was it possible to feel so unappealing and sexually frustrated in the same stroke?
Angus was nice enough about the whole thing, but he probably wasn’t interested in the first place. Arbor knew he must have come on too strong—the big guy's reaction was probably automatic at first but didn’t know how to stop the whole fiasco before it got so far. Then again, maybe Arbor’s skills were so deficient Angus gave up before he could make more of an ass of himself.
It had been a while since Arbor remembered what pure rejection felt like. He hadn’t made an attempt to seduce a man in so long, he’d forgotten. The last time anyone made him feel so downright unappealing was somewhere around the sex vid incident he wound up in prison over. Somehow he didn’t have many hopes for the rest of the crew’s interest in him.
Only one person on board made him feel attractive and wanted.
The trip to Beta Deck was a vague memory as he extended himself to reach the door chime. The door slid open to Priest in a pair of red briefs dragging a towel over his still-damp hair. It was hard not to notice him in this state. The clean scent of shower soap was fresh on his skin.
“Hey, Arbor. What’s going on?” Priest’s natural smile chased away some of the doubts in Arbor’s mind. He looked pleased to see him.
“Are you free? Can I come in?”
“Sure.” Priest stepped aside to give Arbor a path. As he passed, Arbor resisted the urge to run his hand over the barely covered bulge before him. He didn't know if he could recover from being turned away twice in one day.
Climbing up on the bed, Arbor took in the near-naked man before him. The red briefs hugged Priest in all the right ways, and his lightly furred chest and legs held starring roles in Arbor’s dreams for the last several nights. As attractive as he found Angus earlier, Priest was kilometers ahead on the scale. But even as perfect as Priest was to Arbor’s eyes, he still didn’t feel worthy somehow—especially not today.
“What’s up?”
“Priest. I have to ask you a question and I want you to be honest.” Arbor took a deep breath and marshaled his nerve. “If I hadn’t won the poker game, would you have still slept with me?”
“That’s stupid. Why would you even ask that? What happened?”
It took three tries to get the words out of his mouth, and they were barely audible once he succeeded. “I threw myself at Angus earlier and he turned me down. He couldn’t run away fast enough.”
“Arbor, Angus doesn’t sleep with anyone.” Priest’s face twisted in a mocking shade of ridicule. “He’s celibate. Waiting for his one true love. Yeah, I’m sure there’s a long fucking story of virtue and dumbass promises to go with it, but what a waste with a dick like that.”
“So, he didn’t—”
Priest knelt down in front of Arbor. “He would have done that to anyone. Not just you.”
“Oh.”
“You’re a good guy, Arbor, when you’re not getting pissed and kicking my ass with that step stool of yours. You’re not bad looking either. I’d like to think that I’d have worked my way over to you. The poker game just sped up the flight plan. Especially after the guys caught sight of you in the shower and saw what you were packing. I’d need to see for myself.”
Arbor scrunched his face in disbelief. “You think I’m good looking?”
“You’ve got an expressive face and have a hot bod on you, dude. I hope I get another round soon.”
Scooting to the edge of the bed, Arbor placed his hands on either side of Priest’s face. “Is now too soon?”
With a wicked grin, Priest stood, peeled down those red briefs, and kicked them into the corner of the room. Shoving Arbor deeper onto the mattress on his back, Priest crawled over him. Dismantling Arbor’s clothing with a practiced hand, his breath ghosted over the newly exposed skin.
“I’d say now is perfect.”
SO SATED HE refused to rise, Priest barely lifted his head, observing the mass of pearlescent white streaks drying over his torso, all the way up to his neck. If this was a study in red, he could lie perfectly still and everyone would think he’d been a murder victim.
Rolling his head to one side, he found Arbor lying on his back. Chest still heaving, his thick, lazy tube of shiny flesh rested across his thigh. Damn, the things Arbor’s cock made him crave. He’d never let anyone fuck him with so much force before, but it was so damn good.
It was an awful thing to disturb this languid moment, but the drying fluids pulling at the hairs from his chest to his groin were starting to hurt. Minor quakes still rushing through his body, Priest pushed himself upward to a seated position.
“I’m going to need a new shower.” Priest slapped Arbor’s leg to rouse him. He checked the time stamp glowing on his monitor. “C’mon, we can finally show you off to a bunch of the guys.”
Arbor snapped forward. “What do you mean a bunch of the guys?”
“This is when a bunch of the maintenance guys finish working out and shower together. Grab your pants, you can borrow a towel.”
“I can wait.” Shoulders dropping, Arbor turned slightly away from Priest, his arms crossing in his lap.
Priest searched his hamper for a pair of shorts. “You’re the one who wanted to hook up with Angus. This is the best way to drum up some business.”
“Go without me.”
“You’re almost as nasty as I am. Come on.” The blue pair of shorts he found was dirty, but so was he. It couldn’t make anything worse.
“I said I don’t want to go.”
Priest stopped short of stepping into the garment. “Why are you being so pissy about this?”
“I don’t want to be in a shower with a bunch of horny guys.”
Now Priest was a little annoyed and confused. “It’s not like anyone’s gonna rape y—”
“I said no!” Arbor's rage and fear were all too palpable.
Staring at the wall, Arbor clutched his arms tight. Tiny, panicked gasps of air matched up with an uncontrollable shake affecting his whole body. Priest knew what this looked like. It was the same reaction as he witnessed on surviving soldiers in the Civil War. It was the fringes of terror.
Being a pilot, Priest was removed from face-to-face skirmishes that left their invisible scars on the men and women left behind. But he had seen enough of them to know what they were.
“Arbor?” Priest stepped around the bed, forcing Arbor to look at him. “When did it happen?”
Arbor’s eyes were moist and vacant. “When did what happen?”
Priest stooped down in front of him, keeping his voice soft. “When were you raped?”
“I wasn’t.” Arbor’s hands gripped tighter and his gaze
dropped into his lap.
“No offense, but I’m having a hard time believing that. Was it prison?” Arbor’s eyes flashed wide as he sucked in a mouthful of air. “You can tell me if you want. I won’t say anything.”
Arbor rocked back and forth. His mouth shifted like he wanted to speak, then clamped shut more than once. Priest was patient, waiting for him to decide what to do.
A tear brimmed along the edge of Arbor’s eye. “I wasn’t…but I was…sort of… I don’t know…”
Priest brushed a knuckle down Arbor’s arm, wanting to show comfort, but worried about startling him. “You’re not making sense. Tell me what happened.”
Without looking up, Arbor gave a shuddering exhale. “Prison was so scary. I was in for hacking government data files, but they put me in maximum security with all the murderers and rapists. I saw inmates get stabbed in the common area on two separate occasions. I was just trying to keep my head down and get through my sentence.
“I got caught in the shower by five or six guys. They surrounded me when I was rinsing the soap out of my eyes. One guy picked me up off the ground and when I fought back, they beat the shit out of me.” A tear rolled down to his chin as his voice broke. “They were all laughing as they held me face down on the floor. I couldn’t stop them. The first guy used his finger on me and said he liked how tight I was. He got on top of me and was just about to shove it in when the guards burst in.”
Priest wiped away the stray tear. “Oh shit, Arbor.”
Fists clenched, Arbor snarled as more tears threatened to fall. “They went after me because I was little, because I was different. They saw me as an easy target. They held me down because I wasn’t strong enough to take care of myself.”
“Arbor, most of us would have gotten our ass kicked against six guys. That’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
Arbor sniffed. “The sad part was that I wasn’t supposed to be in maximum security with all the violent offenders in the first place. My ex’s family pulled some strings as payback for having him arrested at his nephew’s birthday party. Even the warden said he didn’t understand why I was there. They didn’t look into it until I got attacked. The court was so afraid there'd be an investigation, they released me only five months in without any major parole conditions.”
Priest and Pariahs Page 11