Merker's Outpost

by I. Christie

  Harriet Montran continued to struggle as her helmet was deactivated again. Facing Sheila, Harriet saw the short sword in Sheila's hand. She brought her knee up into Sheila's back hard and both rolled around on the ground as each one tried to gain control. Sheila struck Harriet in the head with the hilt of the sword. Stunned, Harriet could feel her grip on Sheila's wrist loosen. She could feel a panic moving over her limbs as a knife point flashed at her. Then the second skin kicked in flooding her system with adrenalin. Her eyes cleared giving her a larger than life view of Sheila raising a short pointy object, the ceremonial sword of the late Lord Chaney, above her forehead. Then abruptly Sheila was no longer on her.

  Rolling to her feet quickly, she swayed for a moment as she located Maud and Sheila locked in a rolling combat. Harriet pulled the deactivator out and held the button down. All motion from Sheila stopped.

  Maud pushed Sheila to the side gently. "Please, Lt. Montran, Harriet, shut that off," Maud implored covering her ears.

  "Oh!" Harriet's fingertips were white from her tight pinch on the card. She sank to her knees taking the opportunity to catch her breath. "The cavalry came just in time," she muttered.

  "You can now reset her permanently," Maud suggested.

  "How sure are we this is going to do anything?"

  "We won't if you waste time asking questions, Lieutenant."

  Reluctantly, Harriet moved over to the prostrate form of the metradame and held the device near her forehead. A shiver ran up her arms as Sheila's darkened eyes locked on hers. With shaking hands, Harriet pressed the reset. A flash of pain crossed Sheila's face before her eyes closed. Guiltily Harriet looked toward Maud.

  "Do you have the unicorn ring?" Maud asked.

  "What ring?"

  "The horse with the horn in its head?"

  "Oh, yeah." Harriet fished it out of her utility belt pocket.

  "This is your homing device to her."

  "Wait a moment here. Are you telling me that she was and is able to find me because of this ring?"

  "Yes."

  "She's been locating me because of this?"

  "Yes." Maud took the ring from her palm and turning Harriet's hand over slid it on her finger. "You must wear it so she remains near you. It is for her safety, until she knows how to manage on her own."

  Harriet flexed her fingers at the unaccustomed feel of wearing a ring.

  "Why didn't you tell me?"

  "It was an observation Guardian made during her pursuit of you. She was finding you too easy. He narrowed it down to the ring. When she awakens…she is yours to program, rename, and command."

  "I don't want a robot! I..." images from the sexual haze that Sheila had left her in flooded all her senses as if she were back in the moment. She felt off balance.

  Uh, oh. How do I ignore these reactions?

  Maud grabbed Harriet's arms and shook her for attention. "You both need to get out of this part of the city," she repeated. "Guardian wants to flood the area with sleeping gas and to clean up some of the debris the intruders have left, and I have guests of Guardians to tend to. These feelings will wear off," she reassured her.

  Harriet nodded; clearing her throat, she tested her voice, "How long is she going to be like this?"

  "For most of the ride back. Call your car and I will help you put her in it."

  "Car?" Harriet called hesitantly. This was just as ridiculous as her reaction to Sheila. Oh, no it isn't. Calling a car may be ridiculous but Sheila is NOT. She is lust at its highest level!

  The car rolled to a stop by their waiting figures. Stepping in first Harriet turned to Maud who passed her the unconscious form of Sheila. The metradame's limp body was settled in and secured when the harness dropped. Tiredly Harriet Montran sat across from her, her own harness securing her.

  "'Till we meet again, Lt. Montran," Maud whispered in her communicator.

  "'Till we meet again, Maud. But, seeing as we have so much in common, I think we should be on first name basis, don't you think? And, thank you."

  "You are welcome, Harriet. Perhaps over tea, if there is time in the near future, we can discuss these pranks of yours."

  "Right. In exchange for you letting me know how you managed for two years to keep these people at bay."

  "It's a deal," she grinned and waved.

  The car moved out of the area quickly and the built up speed pushed her into her seat. Hopefully there was going to be food, drink and rest at the other end. Suddenly a small screen appeared in the left corner of her visor.

  "I hope you don't mind, but your visor has the ability to read others' bios and I would like to monitor hers," Guardian explained.

  "No. Not at all. So, the command is 'bio readings for target on?' or something like that?"

  "Yes. Or you can just touch your control. It's the small swatch just above the inside of your wrist. I'm still testing its placement for convenience and practicality. What was convienient for lab workers is not for other occupations. Something Maud has been discovering, and not always in the best of circumstances." Guardian sighed.

  Does that mean Maud is a willing test subject? Well, she is still alive. Two years to bring this suit to its present condition. I can't complain, since it's saved me from more bruises than I would care to count.

  "Guardian, can the 'blend' feature work off this planet?"

  "No. The ability lies in the suits composition to mimic mater that can be found on this planet. I could make it so that the wearer is completely unseen to many species visual sight or to monitoring mechanisms by altering the vibration of the object I wish to hide. What gives me hesitation are the possibilities of those like Lord Chaney in high places to use it over those who will not have the technology to counter it. It is something I wish to confer with others on."

  "Hmm. Sharon once told me, that even if we think we are the sole creators of or maybe the first to come up with an idea, in reality, it has already been done or thought of by others somewhere. Therefore, what you are speaking of…has already been developed by another group, and whether they are reputable as you are…hmmm. Your idea could well be already hitting the galactic patent office, wrapped up in another company's logo."

  "No. It is already registered...or, the beginnings of what is now completed. As a scientist, I had also believed that. Now, with the search ability a computer can offer, I can follow the serendipity of an idea that is recorded by people, not all scientists, on a similar or the same idea. And there are about forty-four companies in just Committee space alone, that are working on such a suit; however, none of them have a finished product."

  Lt. Montran leaned back in the restraints and thought about it. "Well, you're right about the corrupt getting a good grab on it. Any of the political powers hear of it and your patent will be classified and you won't be able to sell it on the market. They'll take it away from you."

  Through slitted lids, Harriet watched the form of Sheila in the darkened cab, reading her energy level though the visor. During the hour ride back, Harriet Montran dozed off. Her dreams were a mixture of guilt over Lord Chaney's death, and sexual images of Sheila and Sharon. The mixture was enough to give her a slight headache that the second skin was not getting rid of. Maybe it was over taxed.

  The abrupt change in the speed and a sharp intake of breath from Sheila brought her out of her disturbing nap. As her conscious thoughts struggled to put up an indignant argument on what her dreams revealed, the images had her blushing.

  Let's not go there, Harriet.

  "Lt. Montran, welcome home and welcome to your companion." Guardian's voice came over the speakers in the car. "Lieutenant, I have a friend of yours in the infirmary that needs to be taken to her quarters. Would you mind escorting her and see that she is settled? Charles is busy with something else and I think when she awakens she would feel more comfortable in her quarters than alone in an infirmary. Don't you think?"

  "A friend of mine? What's wrong with her?"

  "Yes, Jina Gari, but, you remember her as
Cadet Zohra."

  The car came to a sudden halt, much like her thoughts.

  "Though the car has some protection for those not wearing a second skin, it does leave the occupant a little shaken. I think your companion may take a while to recover," Guardian commented quietly in Harriet Montran's ear.

  Harriet shook her head, taking a deep breath to bring her attention to the present. Guardian was monitoring Sheila through her helmet, she reminded herself, and she needed to attend to her too. The lights in the tube station were on when the car door opened. When the restraints came up, Harriet took time to deactivate her helmet and remove her gloves. Sheila stirred, but slowly. Harriet was trying to remember how she felt on her first shuttle drop. Her legs were wobbly and her head had been spinning to say nothing of her stomach that could not hold any solid food for a few days. It took a lot of practice drops to get her body acclimated to the harsh change of gravity.

  Harriet exited the car and concerned, turned to watch Sheila.

  Give her a hand, lieutenant!

  Harriet leaned in and held out her hand to Sheila. Sheila took it without hesitation and slowly climbed out of the car. A slight tremor in both their hands as they made contact had Harriet gripping firmer onto the unsteady woman's hand. The image of her drawing Sheila against her and nibbling her neck had her grimacing inward.

  What did Maud say, 'once bitten?' That made her nervous. Harriet watched as a different metradame climbed out of the car, but it did nothing to calm her bios that were escalating in a completely inappropriate mood.

  Sheila put her other hand onto Harriet's arm for balance. The added contact had Harriet wondering if she was going to be able to survive nearness with someone she wanted to drag off into her quarters for a long and arduous time of love making.

  Love making? NOT! Rutting is a better term. Your body may be reacting but you can control your thoughts. Right. Easy for you to say, she grumbled to herself. Come on. Surely remembering your first ride on a horse can take your mind off this.

  She closed her eyes for a moment, recalling that great event. It had been a disaster. She was tossed into a water trough unceremoniously. Her brother, Hadrie, had knowingly given her Trickster, a retired circus pony to ride. It was to get back at her for a prank she had pulled on him earlier. What was that prank? Oh, yeah. She locked him in the outhouse at Soureige.

  Sheila released Harriet's arm and stood away from the car, standing up straighter.

  "Map to infirmary." A map appeared on the car's surface.

  Harriet studied it and then turned, heading towards the door marked exit, acutely aware that Sheila was following.

  Who was Sheila before Lord Chaney abducted her and turned her into his possession? Guardian must know for he had hinted that she was a highly regarded choice by Lord Chaney.

  "Infirmary," Harriet softly spoke to the elevator. Standing in the close confines of the elevator, Harriet's skin crawled as if Sheila's finger were moving over her arm again.

  This is not going to be one of those easy endings to a long day.

  The elevator opened onto a well-lit corridor that lacked any art or signs indicating where they were. The walls were transparent but without the room interior lights on, it was impossible to see beyond their own reflections. In the unfamiliar environment, Harriet's focus shifted quickly to a soldier's mode of alertness. Searching for what her senses told her was something to be alert for...but what?

  No alarms in my head...but then, again, I didn't get any when Sheila was chasing me. I guess we were evenly matched or... That is not good if my sense of danger is not working. So, what is it about this place? Is this the laboratory area?

  One particular room had an unusual type of energy emanating from it. It was so subtle that Harriet did not notice it until they were almost past it. Curious, she stepped back and put her palms against the wall. There was a warm subtle pulse. Reluctantly, she pulled her hands away. She would investigate this room later. Now, she had someone to meet. Her stomach turned flip-flops as she struggled with not knowing whether to avoid thinking about what Sheila's presence was doing to her, or what the information Guardian just gave her was doing to her mind. If she survived this day with her sanity in tact, she was going to be laying flowers on someone's altar.

  The infirmary turned out to be the last room at the end of the corridor. The double doors hissed open. It took a few moments for Harriet's eyes to adjust to the subdued lighting. She easily located a gurney that held a draped figure. She held her breath as she moved to the side of the still figure. Harriet found the Sgt. Major's face more grim than Guardian's images. There was a bruise on her face that was turning yellow and green. A scar ran across her forehead and disappeared into her scalp. It reminded Harriet of someone that had survived a line trap and that occurred usually because someone in front of you took the brunt. Under the low light, the face was pale as if she was recovering from something.

  Looks like she had a case of bad air by the coloring on her eyelids and lips. She's going to have a headache when she wakes up…unless she's already had her meds. Though, a dip in the tub with Ald's remedies is a nice way to get rid of a headache.

  That made her think about Sheila and how a nice dip in the tub with her would do her a wonderful amount of good.

  Oh, no Harriet...let's just not go there, hmm? She advised herself. Gawds, just let me get through this day without going boink!

  She focused on the figure again, determined to keep to the task Guardian had given her. The unconscious woman wore a military issued AEG and by the identification on it, she was a member of the Black Rose.

  Jina Gari. She is Cadet Zohra? She doesn't look like how I remember her.

  Suddenly she remembered the vial she had found and fished it out of one of the utility belt pockets.

  "Guardian, can you analyze this?"

  A robot, immobile in a dim corner, came active, moved out and extended a hand. It looked like a harnivan, a multilimbed carnivore from the mining colony near Alteria IV. Interesting choice to have working in a medical capacity. Perhaps the intention was to scare others to get better faster. Harriet placed the small vial in its outstretched palm.

  Looking back at the unconscious figure Harriet frowned. "A cadet on the Black Rose squad and as a Sgt. Major?" she wondered aloud.

  "She's an operative for Naboths Vine. She has been undercover for about nine years," Guardian informed her through the communicator.

  "That's a long time. When she returns to consciousness will she remember whose side she's on?" Cadet Zohra. Nine years? That's since graduation. Will she remember me?

  "She's been debriefed; however, she will remain unconscious for another eight stan hours to let her process her debriefing subliminals."

  "And you're putting her next door to me?" Harriet joked but her heart was beating faster.

  "She can be just as easily detained in her room as in a prison cell, as her cohorts, but we must get her back to her real self," Guardian explained. "We will need her expertise until the admiral's troops arrive. Major General Aglauros would not forgive me if something should happen to her."

  "General Aglauros...I heard she is the chief of Hekate's' Inner Circle…and Cadet Zohra knows her? And you know General Aglauros?"

  "Well, I have had recent communications with her," Guardian returned amused.

  "Well, I would like to meet this General Aglauros. I have heard much about her. However, about Zohra's membership in the Black Rose…the Black Rose is a closed squad. Few survive to live long and those that do, limp though the rest of their life, and I don't mean just physically." She took a deep breath and explained her concern plainly. "They lead a very brutal life, both private and in the service. That is their trade mark."

  "It was not intended for her to be undercover for so long. She had elected to stay to see her assignment out to the end."

  Assignment? And what was that? So, a spy for Naboths Vine. From what I remember of her, she is the type that would take such an assignment. But,
I wonder if Lord Chaney's death ended her assignment. Seems my actions caused a lot of people to change jobs.

  Giving a small shake to her head, she began to look along the sides of the gurney for a control device to operate it.

  "Mistress, may I help?"

  Harriet jumped from the unfamiliar voice at her shoulder. Turning to face the origin of the voice, Harriet's face was so close to Sheila's that she could feel her warm breath. Blood pounded in her ears and she could feel her hands shaking from the desire to ravish the woman on the spot.

  By Helgas Moon, I will never make idle wishes after this.

  Slowly rising to her feet, she nervously moved to the other side of the gurney, all the while cursing herself for the fire that was raging in her veins. With the gurney separating them, the intensity seemed to lessen. Harriet cleared her throat. "What happened to your voice?"