0036393001337282886 wind demon 01

by blood wind

  “Just the women at Be-Mod Nine,” she answered. “They are the only friends I have.” He stared at her for a long, long time and then narrowed his eyes. “I see no reason why you can not have access beyond these quarters now that I am here to protect you.”

  It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him from what he thought she needed protection, but she had a pretty good idea it wasn't a ‘what', but a ‘whom'.

  “Dr. Dean has asked me to have supper with her this coming Fourth Night.” She pushed her bowl away, her nerves making her hands tremble. She hid them in her lap. “Would you have any objections if she and I spent those nights together?” She smiled shyly. “Fourth Nights, I mean. Sort of a girl's night out?”

  He thought about it for a moment and could think of no logical reason why she should not. Besides, he had plans to make sure Konnor Rhye was reassigned before Cree was transported to Hell-12 for the remainder of his punishment. “How long would you be gone on these nights?”

  Bridget clenched her hands together. “One or two hours, I would think.” He mulled that over for a moment then took up his spoon. “I don't suppose that would be a problem.” He ladled the stew into his mouth, chewed thoughtfully then nodded. “I will allow it.”

  Bridget smiled uneasily. Another trap had been set for Kamerone Cree and he had walked blindly inside.

  Chapter 11

  “DID YOU send her the recording, Beryla?” asked Dr. Amala Dayle.

  “Yes,” the Director acknowledged. “She told me she enjoyed the music tremendously.”

  “Chalean music is not all that different from Celtic music,” Hael Sejm conceded. “I knew she would like it.” Dr. Dayle, a bioengineer with the Ministry of Public Education, arched a thick white brow at the Chalean chemist. “We could have used Ionarian chants and the results would have been the same. The subliminals encoded within the music was the important thing.”

  Hael Sejm snorted. “You may enjoy your heathenish Ionarian chants, Dayle, but they are certainly not conducive to a person's listening enjoyment as Chalean harp and pipe music is!”

  “That is a matter of opinion,” the Ionarian scientist sniffed.

  Dr. Dean went to her bar and poured herself another Viragonian cocktail. Over the years, she had developed a fondness for the sweet liqueur. Perhaps too much of a fondness for the lime-flavored brew. “You know,” she said, coming back to her chair and sitting down, “I really think we should push for Bridget to sleep with him before he leaves for Helios Twelve.” Hael frowned. “And why would that be?”

  “Consider this,” the Director suggested. “We know his sublims are working. He could not get her out of his mind so he bought her, moved her into his quarters, and has shown he has become extremely possessive of her when he locked her in while he was gone. He has also shown he is becoming increasingly fond of her by bringing home the statue of the Blessed Mother to please her.

  Now, he is allowing her to visit me and…” She looked at her watch. “She should be along shortly, by the way. So that proves the subliminals of trust are in place and working on him.”

  “So you need to give him a little reward for being such a good little test subject by allowing him to screw her.” Hael snorted.

  “No.” Dr. Dean sighed. “Our problem at the moment isn't with him. It's with Bridget.”

  “In what way?” Hael demanded.

  The Director set her glass down on the end table. “Bridget is the only weak link in our chain and we all know it. If she cannot put aside her fear and loathing of Kamerone, we will never be able to win him over to our side. The subliminals are working, yes, but he is a very intelligent man. He knows she's afraid of him. She has told him she will not be his whore so he knows she doesn't want to willingly give herself to him.”

  “What woman would?”

  The Director ignored the hateful remark. “He also knows she is at his mercy yet he would never force her because, well for one, the subliminals would not allow it, and two, he has far too much pride to take a woman who does not want him.”

  “Since when?” Hael injected. “There isn't a Rysalian warrior alive who would hesitate to rape anything on two legs if the mood struck him! They think womankind was placed here for their personal enjoyment!”

  “Don't you think your experiences might have clouded the issue for you, Hael?”

  “No, I do not!” Hael answered. “I understand perfectly Bridget's abhorrence of meekly spreading her legs for Kamerone Cree.

  I think it was vulgar of you to suggest it in the first place!”

  “She has to fall in love with him,” Amala stated. “He has to feel her love. He has to be taken so deeply by that love that he will do anything, even go up against the Empire, to keep her at his side.”

  “Love has nothing to do with sex!” Hael snapped. “I fail to see what her being debased by that jackal has to do with anything.”

  “You do not want to see,” said Amala. “If you can't inject it, swallow it, or rub it on, it doesn't have meaning for you.” Hael stood, her lower lip thrust forward in challenge. “Why, you scrawny Ionarian cow, if you can't…”

  “Ladies, please!” Dr. Dean cut in. “We don't need to engage in personalities here!”

  “I do not agree that you need to have Bridget Dunne prostitute herself to Kamerone Cree in order for our plan to work.” Hael exclaimed. “Madame Director?” Dr. Dean's Vid-Com interrupted.

  “Yes?”

  “Dr. Dunne is here, Madame.”

  Beryla Dean looked hard at Hael Sejm. “I was chosen as the leader of our little group, Sejm. When you joined, you agreed to abide by my decisions in all matters.” She stood, as well, and placed her hands on her hips. “My decision is that Bridget has to be just as obsessed with Cree as he is becoming with her in order for our plan to work. If you are not happy about it, that's too damned bad. That is the way it is going to be.”

  “You are either with us or against us,” Amala added. She looked up. “Which is it to be?” Hael glared at the two women then pointedly looked away. She lifted her snifter of Chalean brandy and drained it. “By all means do as the two of you see fit.”

  Bridget could sense the hostility in the room as soon as she entered and seated herself on the sofa across from Doctors Dean and Dayle. She accepted the glass of sherry the Director poured for her and sat twirling it between her palms, waiting to be told why she was there.

  “I don't suppose he's let down his guard with you yet,” commented Dr. Dean.

  “Not that I have noticed,” replied Bridget.

  “We knew it was going to take time to win him over to a way of life he has never known existed,” Dr. Dayle reminded them.

  “What has been his mood since his return?” asked Beryla.

  “He's been very jittery for the last two days.” She looked up from the swirls of sherry in her glass. “He's still furious about the sabotage of his ‘bot and the problems he had on re-entry.”

  “For which no definitive cause was found.” Amala Dayle grinned.

  Bridget shrugged. “Yes, but he knows the Resistance is behind it.”

  “He can't prove it.” Dr. Dean chuckled. “And the official review states: ‘No suggestion of outside interference.'”

  “There was no danger was there?”

  Hael Sejm spoke up for the first time since Bridget had arrived. “Concerned for the Iceman's safety, Bridie?” Bridget glanced at the Chalean chemist. “With the targets, Dr. Sejm.”

  “Ah, yes, the good Sisters!” Amala Dayle exclaimed. “How are they, Bridie?”

  “Sister Mary Joseph is fascinated by everything she sees here,” answered Bridget. “I think she considers it all high adventure.

  The others, with the exception of Sister Mary Francis, are meek and have accepted their situation.”

  “What of this Mary Francis person?” Hael queried. “Will she prove to be a problem?” She sincerely hoped so.

  Bridget shook her head. “She's just one of those women who complains about eve
rything. Frankly, I can't imagine why they allowed her in the Order.”

  “Is he beginning to show any sexual interest in you?” the Director asked, drawing everyone's immediate attention to her by the abrupt change in the subject.

  Bridget blushed. “Yes and no,” she said. She took in a long breath, exhaled, then set her glass down on the table in front of her.

  “There are times when I find him staring at me with this odd expression on his face.”

  “I know it well,” the Director commented. “It's the old ‘I have no idea what the hell to do with her’ look.” She rested her arm along the back of her chair. “What I've come to expect about that expression when I see it on Drae's face is a prelude to him finding out what just exactly the hell to do with me.”

  “I didn't think there was a man alive who didn't know what to do with a woman under his control, ” Hael suggested. She cast Bridget a soft look. “At least he hasn't thrown you to the floor and ravaged you yet.” A bright red flame of embarrassment spread over Bridget's face. “Not yet,” she breathed.

  “We were discussing the situation before you arrived,” Amala piped up. “Beryla thinks you should press the matter with him.” Bridget's head turned toward the Director. “I thought you said I should just let matters take their natural course. ” She had turned pale. “Has something changed?”

  Beryla smiled gently. “We know that whatever Kamerone Cree does, so will the other Reapers do. What the Reapers do, so, too, will the Keepers and Shepherds and all the little fish swimming around under them. ” She repositioned herself in the her chair and sat forward, her body language saying what she was about to impart was of vital importance.

  “Kamerone is the Alpha Male among the Reaper caste. That alone would be cause for the others to pay close attention to his desires. You couple that with the fact that he is of the Royal House of Brell and there is no way the other six Ry-Chalean warriors will not side with him when the time comes.”

  “He is the last of the Brells,” Amala put in, glancing at Sejm before continuing. “His mother was the seventh daughter of a seventh daughter of the House of Brell. There will be no more if something happens to Kamerone.”

  “I don't see-”

  Hael Sejm cut Bridget off. “Neither do I.”

  “Kamerone will not go up against the Empire unless he has a damned good reason for doing it. The plan we have set into motion will give him the impetus he needs to start the revolution. As soon as he makes the first strike against his masters, the Reapers will join him, then seventy -five to eighty percent of the warriors will fall behind them like dominoes. ” The Director shrugged. “The other twenty to twenty-five percent will be easily vanquished. The Reapers will take charge of the space stations and it will only be a matter of hours before Rysalia Prime falls into the hands of the Resistance.”

  “So tell the girl why she has to whore for Kamerone Cree in order to have all that take place!” snarled Hael.

  Beryla Dean turned a frosty look to her old friend. “Hael, I really wish you would push that chip off your shoulder. You, better than any woman alive, should know that the best way to capture a man's interest is straight through that damned piece of flesh dangling between his legs! Get hold of that and I can guarantee you will get his attention and keep it!”

  “I am not saying I will not sleep with him, ” Bridget said and the other three women turned to her with elevated brows and parted lips. “I am just asking why it has to be before he goes to Helios Twelve. He is due to Transition soon and he's already informed me he will be gone the entire day while that happens.” She shuddered, looked down at the hands clutched in her lap. “I am told excessive levels of testosterone can bring on Transition. I have no desire to be beneath him when that happens.”

  “You are absolutely correct!” Hael flung Beryla a triumphant look. “Right there is reason enough not to press the issue until a better time can be found!” If Hael Sejm had her way, that evil time would never come.

  “All right,” the Director agreed. “I can see where his Transition cycle might present a problem.” She exchanged a look with Amala Dayle. “We'll hold off until he returns from the penal colony.” Bridget flinched, unaware that she had, but the other three women were quick to note it. The subliminals in the Chalean pipe music had made powerful suggestions to the young woman that she should care what happened to Cree. Other suggestionaries had been encoded within the music to make her less afraid of the Reaper and more receptive to any advances he might make. Still others had been designed to influence her perception of him as a male: his darkly handsome face, his intriguing brogue, his powerful body and stature among the warrior caste.

  “What you are doing is very important, Bridget,” the Director stated, drawing the young woman's gaze to her. “He is a strong man and fully capable of taking care of himself on Helios Twelve. There is no need for you to worry.”

  “She's not so much concerned about his safety as she is about what is going to happen next week, ” Amala said softly. “Am I right, dear?”

  Bridget nodded. “I am terrified of what he might do.”

  “Don't be,” Hael snapped. “The subliminals will not allow him to do any more harm than what we will allow.”

  “He won't ever hurt you,” the Director assured her.

  “I know,” Bridget agreed, the subliminals used on her surfacing. “I wasn't worried about me.” Hael frowned heavily. Had they accidentally included something in the sublims that should have been left out? She thought back to the encoded messages and mentally shook her head. No, the correct wording had been there. She looked at Bridget and pursed her lips. Bridget had not been her choice for this assignment; Dorrie had. Dorrie did not have the tender heart Dunne had and, to Sejm's way of thinking, Dorrie would have been the better choice.

  “It's close to twenty-one hundred hours, Bridie,” the Director advised. “You'd better get back to him.

  A long sigh escaped Bridget Dunne and she nodded her agreement. “I hate going back.”

  “We know,” Amala commiserated. “When things get tattered around the edges, just remember what our goal is. That should help.”

  ****

  HER FOOTSTEPS slowed the closer she got to the elevator that would take her to Level Ten, the deck on which the highest-ranking Reaper lived.

  Three weeks. He had allowed her to go unescorted to Dr. Dean's quarters for three weeks now. The first week, he'd walked her there himself, depositing her at the Director's door and waiting until she was safely inside before leaving. He was there precisely at 2100 hours, waiting to escort her home. The second week, he had gone down with her in the elevator to Level Eight, but had not walked her to Dr. Dean's door, only stood between the opened elevator doors and watched her. But at 2100 hours, he had been there to take her back.

  “I do not need a crossing guard!” she had told him somewhat angrily tonight when it had been time to leave. “I think I can remember to look both ways before I cross the corridor! I've no desire to get run over by a speeding cybot!” Cree had stared at her for a long time, his eyebrows drawn together over his nose, then a slight quirk of his lips had told her he was amused by her show of pique. The amusement had fled his eyes replaced with a stern, fatherly look. “I will see you to Level Eight,” was his answer.

  When Bridget had exited Dr. Dean's quarters tonight, she had been surprised to find both the corridor and the elevator empty.

  It was this new measure of trust that worried Bridget the most.

  What, she thought with a cold shiver, would he do next week when he finds that trust had been betrayed?

  Chapter 12

  BECAUSE OF what he was, the moment Kamerone Cree was thrust rudely into the world from between his mother's bloody thighs he became a scientific experiment. He was taken, placed in an incubator, carried to a specially designed bioengineering lab and kept away from all human contact, as well as the companionship of the six others of his kind who were born after him.

  Faceless,
sexless, impersonal cybots took care of him as an infant; trained him as a toddler; instructed him never to cry, to smile, to do any of the normal things little boys do. He stayed with the AIUs until he was five, at which time he was handed over to the Ministry of Science where every test known at that time was run on the child. At age six, he was handed over to the Ministry of Behavioral Modification. It was here that the micro-receivers had been surgically implanted into his brain. At the age of ten, he was sent to the Fleet Academy where, for the first time, he met the other boys like himself: Kullen, Tohre, Kiel, Coure, Gehdrin, and Belial. His informative years were spent with the other Reapers: warriors with the same deadly characteristics as his own. He was taught never to rely on anyone but his own kind. To distrust all outsiders. To consider lesser men -men without his unique abilities-beneath him.

  And to think of females-and Terran females in particular-as worthless.

  At the time Kamerone Cree purchased Bridget Dunne, there were forty-eight women to every man of the Rysalian Empire.

  Overpopulated with women, the warriors considered females expendable and no female under the age of eighteen could be found anywhere on the fifteen space stations or Rysalia Prime. Each and every female fetus conceived was terminated while the males were allowed to live. The incubators were filled to overflowing with male infants culled from Reaper sperm; Kamerone Cree, alone, had more than forty male children-all destined to be Reapers-being trained on Khamsin Proper by cybot nannies. Another five were ensconced at the Ministry of Science.

  The women of the Resistance had long endured the dictatorial demands of the Rysalians. The time had come to put an end to the abortions and the slavery; the abductions from Earth. Nurturers by nature, the women wanted to pair off and mate with men of their own choosing. They wanted to have children they could raise to maturity. They wanted to live with the man they loved and see their children's children born. They wanted to live in a peaceful world free of male domination.