Merker's Outpost

by I. Christie

  The two guards had also noted the places that Commander Montran checked that they had not thought of. They would not make the same omission again and would pass it on to the others as well.

  Finally, Major Zohra and Lady Alexandra were alone with the baskets of food and water containers setting on the table.

  "Why do they concern themselves with your eating habits?" Lady Alexandra asked to break the heavy silence.

  Zohra took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "I have always found it difficult to eat much when I am involved in…projects," she admitted.

  "Oh." Alexandra smiled into the dark eyes feeling the desire to drag her off somewhere alone.

  "Is that so?" Zohra returned in a low seductive voice.

  The voice sent a shiver down Alexandra. She wondered what they could do in less than an hour. Uncomfortably she got up and went into the kitchenette for some water.

  Major Zohra's was quickly at her side, hands tightly wrapped around her wrists firmly pulling her away from the dispenser.

  "You must not…" she stopped as she caught Alexandra's eyes. She got the point. However, their bodies were touching and Alexandra's hand that had reflexively pulled free slid around Zohra and pulled her closer to her. Alexandra buried her face in her neck and kissed her. Zohra touched Alexandra's face softly and pulled her mouth to her own. Alexandra groaned as she pushed against Zohra and felt her mouth ravaged with a strong thrusting tongue. Her knees threatened to give out as she leaned back against the sink for support. Zohra's hand traveled down Alexandra's side and then between her legs searching for her hot spot.

  "Geri," she whispered.

  Zohra did not realize it was she who groaned as she cupped the patch between Alexandra's legs and imagined it wet and swollen. She put her thigh between Alexandra's legs and rubbed her leg against her feeling the heat that was coming from her.

  Suddenly Alexandra groaned and pushed her away. She turned her back to her and tried to pull herself together.

  Company!

  The chime sounded and Major Zohra realized she had been holding her breath.

  "Goddess!"

  "Enter," Alexandra said in a normal voice.

  Major Zohra looked up at her and noticed that her cheeks were red. She laughed to herself thinking General Aglauros would not miss that. Alexandra must have thought the same because by the time the door had opened they were back to a normal flush.

  "Good evening Lady Alexandra, Major Zohra." It was LaDea Gedehelia's voice that greeted them. General Aglauros was close behind, followed by two senior members of her staff and a grinning Carol-Maa.

  General Aglauros did not waste time with idle chitchat.

  "Lady Alexandra," she began, indicating that they all seat themselves in the front room.

  "You are in a very difficult spot. And I want you to know that I, we, are all aware of it," she went on as she and the others took their seats. There seemed to be an urgency to get the meeting over. "Not just because of your social standing and military standing but also because you are part of a very dangerous and obsessive psychopath's plans, and therefore the 'bait' in our attempts to capture him. If we do not…the harm he can cause is tremendous."

  This time the use of 'bait' in referring to her did not cause her to cringe; perhaps Gedehelia's presence gave her more presence of mind.

  "We know that it is the Lair that he will be focused on. It has both you and the portal. Normally we would have separated you and the portal so that he had to work harder and spread his troops around, but the Seers have seen that that is what should not be done. He would increase his terrorist acts and many innocents would suffer."

  "You are the key to this siege he is planning," one of the others added.

  "I think the key to the siege is somewhere in the computer's system," Alexandra interrupted impatiently.

  "You may well be right, Lady Alexandra. We have dumped the core three times and each time we have put everything back together, the virus is still there," another senior staff member admitted.

  "What is the first thing or the second thing the computer links to when it comes back up?"

  "The cities."

  "And then, the subroutines within the cities with their utility bots. I feel certain it's one of the bots either in the city or here," Alexandra explained.

  "That will take a long time to determine which one it is…unless…we add our own program in the main one that will somehow tease it out."

  "I would check the bot in Megan Vanster's quarters first and the rest of the other Black Rose members."

  "Perhaps, Lady Alexandra, that would be a good place to start. Lt. Catlina, pass that on."

  While the voices continued to discuss which city the main computer first contacted, Alexandra remembered the global diagram of the various cities on Merker's Outpost that the computer had presented her. There was an odd color in one of them. Blank when it should have been green or gray. "Helgas Moon." She slapped her forehead. "Not to change the subject so quickly but, I just remembered something."

  "And that is?" the general encouraged.

  "His back door."

  "What do you mean? We have searched the cities for any break-ins, including Iota." Major Zohra objected.

  "We would have known," Carol-Maa also objected.

  "When I first came here, I asked the computer for a schematic of where I was in relation to the Spinner's crew. The sections were represented as green, gray, and one blank. The outline was there, indicating…"

  "It was erased."

  "Yes. It makes sense. If Alan's agent gained access into the computer's memory he would be able to rewrite some of the lines. Did the back up, when it went on line show any differences."

  The others shook their head.

  "So, maybe the back up has been tampered with then. Guardian said that he was still building up the cities when the original was written. The only reason why the original was set aside was that it wasn't as powerful as the backup and primary." Major Zohra explained.

  "That sounds plausible. If a virus is introduced…the backup is the first line of defense until the virus is eradicated."

  "So, after we find the city he may have tampered with, we will know where Alan is planning a surprise visit, and we can have some of our troops waiting to greet him."

  Alexandra and Major Zohra shook their heads.

  "By now, they have moved from their point of entry. They are probably just waiting for a preset time or a command."

  "We would have felt them," Carol-Maa objected again.

  "Alan's presence is known when he's in his psychotic state. When he's on his meds, like a good little boy, he would be hard to locate." One of the attachés mentioned.

  LaDea Gedaliaha shook her head in disagreement. "That ill cloud about him makes his presence easy to detect whether he is on his meds or not."

  "I don't think the planet's spirit would be bothered with, say a troop in stasis, or a stash of poisons unless there was a present danger to the planet's well being," Alexandra guessed.

  "So Alan, being clever, knows that we will eventually figure out the virus, or some of it, and expects us to focus on that area. He'll probably have some troops entering there, a small sacrifice for a bigger plan," Major Zohra nodded thoughtfully.

  "So, we are back to, what is he up to with all this plotting? What is the purpose of knocking out portals? It's easy enough to say he is obsessed with Lady Montran, but what is it about the portals?"

  Zohra shifted uncomfortly and then suggested, "We all have studied what to us appears to be madness, in an obsessive person. My belief is that Alan is causing all this havoc as misdirection so he can grab Lady Montran and leave this system. I agree with Lady Montran that he already has his raiders here, waiting for some kind of signal to awaken."

  Montran nodded giving Major Zohra the barest of smiles. "It's just a thought, but I'm sure Alan knows that his presence can be felt by a shaman."

  "So, you think he would send someone to kidnap you rather
than come himself?" one of the aids asked.

  Montran hesitating, remembered her brief touch with Alan in his space craft. She shook her head. "No. One thing I am certain on…he will come for me himself."

  The general nodded studying the commander for any sign of weakness in her composure. "You eluded him too many times. I agree also. You, Lady Alexandra are his only goal and everything else is merely to keep us busy, because this time…he means to accomplish what he and others have not been able to and he does not plan to be around where anyone cares about rescuing her. Most probably he has plans already made to settle on a planet we have no authority on."

  A length of silence passed.

  "But, we owe protection to the portal, to this planet, and to the Galaxy citizens who Alan may terrorize to seize Lady Montran and where he plans on settling. So we must stop him, dismantle his private army, and if need be, die in the process. On that day our cry will be 'It is a good day for a battle.'"

  "So," General Aglauros went on, looking around her, "we'll also search for any transmitters and for a place to hide a spaceship. Chances are if they are in stasis, it will be aboard a ship. What better way of escaping, then on your own ship that is already on the planet? One more thing, Lady Alexandra," General Aglauros nodded toward Alexandra, "I understand you have some talents that could use a bit of smoothing out. We need to teach you to shield yourself so you can protect yourself against any further subconscious or conscious mental attacks. And also to tone down the energy you are putting out."

  Montran's pulse quickened.

  "Please, put yourself in a restful state," LaDea Gedaliaha voice compelled.

  Montran went into an immediate trance both willingly and from the command. From a far away voice, she heard the directions and she was asked many times after each step was explained for her to repeat them. In her minds eye she practiced it and each time she was instructed to adjust her energy and to try again. She did not know how many times she went through the practice but she was growing weary. Moreover, it was getting more difficult to concentrate.

  She woke to feel Geri nuzzling her neck. She was leaning over the back of the couch.

  "If you don't wake up and get to bed, I'm going to..." she growled in a low voice.

  Laughing, Montran gave a tug to pull her into her lap. However, Geri pulled away from her and tugged her to her feet. "This will be the last time we will have the luxury of feeling our skin touching," Geri told her in a husky voice.

  Chapter 26

  "Damn her! Damn that freak!"

  Alan flung the data disk across the room shattering an art piece he had paid a large sum of credits for a mere two standard weeks ago. The impressive art sculpture occupied a corner where it was hard to miss and for Alan, it was a tantalizing object to destroy. It was an impulse buy that had caught his attention while he was waiting for a ride to the office and after studying it for weeks he felt he knew just where the weak spot of the piece was. The pleasing sounds it made as its main column collapsed, with smaller pieces flying in different directions, did not disappoint him. The intent and action to destroy was against the implanted chip's programming. Pain laced across his forehead and scalp, burning deeper paths across familiar territory in his cranium, and sending shivers down his spine. It was an intense feeling that he interrupted as pleasure.

  "How dare she defy me!" he continued after a slight pause.

  One of the few people that Alan tolerated insolence from closed the door to his office to prevent the shrill screeching from being heard by other renters that may be passing the outer office's business door. Hemmitt was Alan's private secretary of four stan years, which was an anomaly in a society that had a low social tolerance for outward displays of physical violence. If Hemmitt was not dependant on Alan's high wages, he would have done as most and found a safer job.

  Hemmitt picked up a large sliver of the shattered mirror that had imbedded in a chair. He had the mirror installed after he witnessed Alan's first episode, telling him he should watch the sideshow. Consequently, Alan was able to judge when he needed to start up his drugs again. He was never crazed enough to not know when his reflection showed the wildness in his dress that was one of the symptoms of his manic phase.

  "This is how you look to your fellow business associates, like a rabid animal. If any of your father's business associates see you like this, you will be looking at a one way ticket to HinterWield," Hemmitt reminded him in a soft and respectful tone.

  Alan caught the mirror's sharp edge, gripping tightly while his eyes bore into Hemmitt's. Blood pooled on the flat surface of the mirror then dripped down the mirror's shard. The plopping sound of each drop hitting the carpet was not lost on either of them, but Hemmitt wisely choose to ignore it.

  "And you think you can do better?" Alan asked in a dangerously low voice. Spittle hung from Alan's beard that refused to be neatly trimmed into place. His eyes glinted like tiny beads of blackness through slit eyelids.

  Hemmitt's emotions ran hot and cold, between amusement and fear. "No. I'm a secretary, not a businessman."

  "Fence sitter!" Alan spat out, his body increasingly becoming tense, as if waiting for some sign from Hemmitt that would give him another outlet for his rage.

  "As long as it's a flat surface, I can manage."

  A vicious picture appeared in Alan's mind of a pointed shaft being run through Hemmitt's rear and out through his mouth, with visceral hanging on the end of the shaft. The pain that shot through Alan's brain from the taboo images he conjured up, made his eyes flutter. Unconsciously, Alan wiped the spittle with the back of his hand scattering blood drops on him and the carpet, as he looked around for the daily planner.

  Hemmitt held it out to him. Alan grabbed it from his hand, though not in anger but from habit, leaving drops of blood on the secretary's hand.

  "Well, what is the plan for the day?" he asked himself in a singsong voice. "Hmm." He looked back up at Hemmitt, "Get me Slinger."

  Hemmitt nodded and left the room, not daring to wipe the blood off his hand until he was finished with his assignment. Getting out of Alan's presence was more important and the sooner Alan got involved with his own projects, the more he left Hemmitt to managing the office.

  If the salary were not as high as it was, Hemmitt would never have taken the job working for le fol Fermin. Hemmitt was his family's way out of a dead-end life of poor jobs in an overcrowded city of people. Though there was a population limit, and restrictions on new residence buildings it was difficult to keep out the migrants who were willing to live in over crowded rooms.

  Hemmitt located the card with Slinger's number on it. When he reentered the office, he found Alan drawing circles on a piece of paper. He had been doing that a lot lately. Handing the card to Alan, he quickly left to let Alan handle his private business. Hemmitt dutifully noted that Alan had allowed the medibot to attend to his bloodied hand.

  A stan hour later Slinger called back with a fake voice and fake location.

  "I have a job for you." Alan's voice was hard and demanding.

  "Isn't that why you called? Get to the point!" the voice retorted.

  "Find me a channeler."

  "You can do that yourself. They're on every corner in your city."

  "Get me a channeler that has no scruples." Alan had to control himself with this person, or there would be no business, and he was very good at what he did.

  "Hmm. Now that will be a problem. I'll see what I can do." The communication was broken.

  Alan looked at his timer. "Erggggggg!" He slammed the timepiece onto the table, ignoring it as it bounced onto the floor. Slinger again evaded the trace. It was just a game he alone played. Alan conveniently forgot the last time he had tracked Slinger. It was to his bathing room. The souvenir that was left scared Alan enough that he no longer took baths. To further reinforce Slinger's disapproval, he did not answer Alan's calls for three years. It was about a year now, since they renewed their business, and Alan found he was gradually starting to see if
he could find him again. This obsession to find him was causing Alan to put aside his caution.

  Alan rubbed his temples, more from habit than from the after effects of the chips retribution. A giggle that had nothing to do with laughter escaped through his tightly drawn lips. Alan felt contempt for the science establishment that put the chip in his brain.