Saxon's Conquest (Hell Yeah!)

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by Sable Hunter


  “Government business, but I’m not here for your help. I just need a quiet place to work and figured you could use the company.”

  Saxon swiveled around in his chair like a Bond villain. “Great, you’re always welcome, you know that. I don’t know how you can focus living downtown in that loft. The noise alone is enough to drive me crazy when I’m there.”

  Destry fished in the small fridge beside the couch and pulled out a pair of Shiner beers. “I like the hustle and bustle of the city.” He tossed one of the cans to his friend and popped the top on the other.

  “Coaster!” Saxon barked when Destry made a move to put his beer down on the coffee table.

  “Shit. Sorry.” He slid a metal coaster over and placed his beer on it. “I live just a few blocks from the capitol, I’m near the governor’s mansion and the university, not to mention Sixth Street.”

  “Always got to be in the middle of things, don’t you? You and your high society friends.”

  “I have friends, period. I don’t rank them according to their bank balances.” Destry smirked at the comment. “Sorry, Sax. I can’t be happy in a quiet room with nothing but the hum of technology like you. I need excitement.”

  “Well then, why are you here, mister popular?”

  “It’s the damn renovations at my place. The contractor ordered the wrong tile for the bathroom, and my water is cut off. I’m not interrupting, am I?” He lifted a pillow beside him and looked under it. “Not like I busted in on you and Lara Croft getting it on or anything, did I?”

  Saxon finished the beer in his hand and tossed the empty can at his friend.

  “Hey! Coaster!” Destry teased.

  A loud bing came from one of the blank monitors, and the screen sprang to life.

  REMINDER: Austin Comic-Con, Ryker’s Strike panel tomorrow @ Palmer Events Center, Barton Springs Rd, Ballroom B.

  The loud sound drew Destry’s attention from the file he’d been perusing, and he looked up to read the message. “Big nerd meeting tomorrow?”

  Saxon grinned. He’d gotten used to the ribbing a long time ago, and despite the fact he’d turned his interests into a lucrative and meaningful way of life, his buddies never missed a chance to take a shot at him. “You know, counselor, nerds are the new cool.”

  Destry popped open another beer. “Well tell Joss Whedon I said hello.”

  “You know, it’s about more than that nowadays.” Saxon led his avatar into a cave and froze, feeling a sneeze coming. He covered his face, but the sound was still loud enough to reverberate throughout the entire upstairs.

  “Good lord! Bless you!” Destry exclaimed. “What are you allergic to now?”

  “You, probably.” He grabbed a tissue and wiped his nose. “Cedar fever is upon us; you probably brought a spore in on your clothes. No biggie, I’m used to it.”

  “Be sure and keep your allergy medicine around, remember what happened to you a few months ago.” Destry shook his head. “I have to admit you scared me, man. If you hadn’t had that EpiPen on you, I think we would’ve lost you.”

  Saxon nodded. “Yea, we all have our cross to bear.”

  “You seem to have so many, though,” Destry teased, gesturing to the screen with the event reminder. “If I thought I had to attend that geek fest, I’d have a nervous breakdown.”

  “You might be surprised. It’s not just a bunch of middle-aged dudes dressed-up as Klingons anymore. This is a multi-billion-dollar industry and some of the girls who go to these things...” He bit his knuckle. “They’re pretty fuckin’ hot.”

  “And yet here you are, at home alone on a Friday night.”

  “I’m not alone. You’re here.”

  “Yeah, but I’m working, and you’re over there fiddling with your joystick.”

  With a snort, Saxon threw his hands up and turned back to his computers. He knew Destry was teasing. They all ribbed him about this stuff; Saxon was used to it. They’d never understand him. Destry was wrong about the conventions, but one thing he hadn’t been wrong about – Saxon was getting sick of fiddling with his own joystick.

  * * *

  A drop of sweat fell from Alivia’s brow and landed on the screen of her fancy new stationary bike.

  “Ewwww,” Violet said from inside the screen. “Alivia. Seriously? Stop sweating all over me.”

  Alivia dabbed at her brow with the towel around her neck. “Oh, relax Violet. It’s not like I’m actually perspiring on you.”

  She watched the other riders from around the world on her split screen. Her new Peloton bike had arrived just last week, and she’d already removed the monitor and replaced it with a bigger twenty-eight-inch screen, so she could do multiple things while she exercised. “I’ll call you back, Violet. We’re about to go into the mountains, and I’m in fourth place.”

  Alivia thumbed the facetime screen closed and sat up in her seat. The gears in the bike clicked over as the going grew tougher. Alivia bared down and pushed herself, straining with every altitude pushing pump of her legs. She rode like a mad woman, forcing her way past the pack, and coming home in first place twenty minutes later.

  Leaning back in the seat, she enjoyed the accolades from the instructor in California while she peddled slowly to get her heart rate down.

  Reaching into a small Yeti cooler sitting on the table beside her, Alivia snatched a Magnum Gold ice cream bar out of the cooler. “I think I deserve a reward,” she told herself, not stopping her pedaling. Unwrapping the delectable treat, she savored a quick bite. “Mmmmmmmmm. God.” She held the frozen confection out to admire. “This is better than sex.”

  The moment hit her hard.

  Better than sex?

  Not like she’d remember, Alivia hadn’t gotten laid in forever. Work kept her busy. The only satisfaction she’d enjoyed lately was the time she spent strolling around in the virtual world of Saxon’s Conquest. Yes, she’d been a video game junkie from the first time she’d played Mario Kart, despite the fact that her love of gaming seemed to have kept the male population at bay all her adult life.

  A mechanical whirr alerted Alivia to the fact she was no longer alone.

  “You burned one-hundred-fifty calories on the Peloton and consumed three-hundred-forty calories with the double-chocolate ice cream, that’s a surplus of one-hundred-ninety calories.”

  “Shut-up, Savvy.”

  “One of my functions is to see to your well-being, Alivia. You programmed me to care.”

  “I can program you to self-destruct, girl.” Wiping perspiration from her chest with a hand towel, Alivia called up her life plan on the screen in front of her. She looked it over while she pumped. She did some of her best work while exercising, the extra blood flow to the brain seemed to drive her. Slowly, she slid through the five-page document where her life was fully mapped out. All her dreams and goals for the future were chronicled on these five pages. The fifth page had but one thing written on it in all caps.

  WORLD DOMINATION.

  She gazed at her own cocky words with a smile and scrolled back to the first page to update the document. GET LAID she typed on the first page in bold letters.

  World domination could wait. After all, a girl needed satisfaction every so often.

  “You love me, and you need me, I’m safe. What does get laid mean? Is that another human euphemism for sleep, like hit the hay?”

  Grinning, Alivia mentally acknowledged Savvy was right. She was very attached to her machine-child. “Not exactly, no.” She debated on how to explain the sexual euphemism. The robot was her creation, a virtual AI miracle, capable of learning an infinite amount of information. Savvy was one of her greatest accomplishments, an on-going experiment. She was constantly amazed at the capacity of the gynoid to connect information and interpret data. “Getting laid doesn’t mean sleep, it refers to sex.”

  “Our sex is female; we are girls.” Savvy came around in front of Alivia, moving smoothly on the rollers attached to her legs. When she designed the automation, Alivia chose
to make Savvy look like an endearing cross between Pebbles Flintstone and Judy Jetson. As far as companions go, she was top-notch.

  “Not sex in relation to gender, I was speaking of intercourse.”

  “Oh-h-h-h,” Savvy replied, then giggled. “You want a boyfriend.”

  “No, I don’t want a boyfriend.” She read through her plan twice more, making small changes to three parts, then closed the document to pull up a program she’d been working on to enhance Savvy’s abilities. With a smirk, she wondered if they were enhanced enough. “You’re getting too big for your britches, girl. Watch it.”

  “I wish I had some britches, its embarrassing to wear the same clothes all the time. Could you buy me a new dress?” Savvy looked down at the serviceable navy suit she wore.

  Alivia considered the robot’s request, not so much what she requested, but the fact that the droid was displaying desire. “You really are a marvel, if I do say so myself.” The smooth advanced computing processing power system she’d installed enabled speech recognition and vocal syntheses, at the same time processing lip synchronization and visual identification by ninety-degree micro CCD cameras with face recognition technology. An independent microchip inside Savvy’s artificial brain controlled gesture and emotion expression, in addition to movement coordination. The body itself was constructed from a highly advanced synthetic jelly silicon and was capable of displaying realistic facial expressions thanks to sixty artificial joints in her face and body.

  “So, do I get the new threads, or not?”

  “We’ll see,” she muttered, filtering through the information in front of her that detailed Savvy’s vast abilities. “All depends on how well you behave over the next few days.”

  “I’ll be good. Please. Please. I’ll keep the house clean, I’ll run a full health scan on you, and I’ll keep watch to see who keeps turning over our garbage can.”

  Alivia closed out the program and held up her hands. “All right. All right. You aren’t a maid, Savvy, you don’t have to do chores.”

  “I don’t mind performing tasks. I need to feel useful.”

  Again, Alivia was struck by the human emotions the android was capable of displaying. Later today, she needed to sit down and evaluate what this meant. Right now, she needed to unwind. One thing she’d learned the hard way, her brain needed time to relax if she expected it to perform at optimum capacity. “Give me a little space to play a bit, and then we’ll shop online to see what you might like in a new wardrobe.”

  “Yay!”

  “If you need something to do, why don’t you put the rhumba out, the floors are in need of a vacuum.”

  “Okay! I will, Alivia. Don’t forget the Ryker’s Strike Panel tomorrow at the Palmer Center.”

  “Oh, thanks for keeping track. I’m looking forward to going.” Alivia made a mental note to polish the boots she wanted to wear.

  As Savvy moved away to do her chores, Alivia opened her favorite game, Saxon’s Conquest. She pedaled for half an hour longer, burning off those ice cream calories, while she roamed around the virtual world, slashing enemies with her broadsword, and seducing male avatars with the wiggle she’d added to her avatar’s walk. Triumphing over these characters gave her a sense of satisfaction. Alivia liked to imagine that the tall, thickly-muscled knights and warriors she came across in the game were really the pot-bellied, balding jerks she met at meetings who routinely talked about her as if she weren’t in the room. She always smiled when she cast a spell that turned them into a toad or tested the sharpness of her blade on their skin.

  You are one sick puppy, Violet had teased when she’d wandered into Alivia’s office at lunch one day and seen her sneering at her monitor, shouting, and pumping her fist when she cut down another enemy.

  In her field, Alivia was a force to be reckoned with, yet the boys club of technology still tried to pretend she didn’t exist. Since most of her work was accomplished online, her most significant achievements were logged under the name of A. G. Hart. It galled Alivia that she was more respected as an asexual being than by her own identity, but…whatever. One of these days, she’d make her mark in this industry and when she did…those a-holes better watch out.

  Suddenly, a beep announced an incoming call. Violet. “I’m sorry. I forgot to call,” Alivia said after pressing the button to connect them.

  Violet gazed back at her with speculative eyes. “Oh, we both know you didn’t forget, you just got busy doing other stuff.”

  Alivia shrugged in silent self-defense.

  “I swear, Alivia. You are always on the go. Have been since we were six. Don’t you ever just want to slow down for a bit?”

  “I have my way of doing things, and you have yours,” she told her assistant and long-time friend.

  Out of nowhere, Violet squealed, “Max!”

  Violet fell over onto her side as a male form came into the frame. Alivia watched as the man pounced on her friend and began tickling her on the bed. Violet and Max had been dating for five months, and as if it wasn’t bad enough that Alivia had to listen to Violet gush about the incredible sex they were having, now she had to watch as Max held his woman down and tickled her while Violet giggled with joy.

  “Oh, brother.” Alivia rolled her eyes.

  Violet finally managed to fight off her attacker and get back to the screen. “I heard that, Alivia. Don’t be mad just because I’m getting it on the reg. A bit of sweet love might do you some good too, you know.” A hand crept into the picture and squeezed Violet’s right breast. “Max, stop!” Violet swatted at his hand, playing coy.

  Alivia turned the resistance up on her bike. For some reason, she felt like pedaling another 5K. “Was there something you needed to tell me, Violet? I’m kind of busy here.”

  Violet was looking off-screen, unable to take her eyes of the man who’d swept her off her feet. Alivia had zero doubt in her mind that they would steam up the room once Violet ended the call.

  “I just wanted to remind you about the Ryker’s Strike panel tomorrow at the Palmer Events Center.”

  “Savvy already reminded me.”

  Violet frowned. “It’s official, I’ve been replaced. You once told me you’d eventually build a new best friend out of metal, and I guess you have.”

  “Do you remember that?” Alivia laughed. “Anyway, you misunderstood me then, I said I’d find a new friend with mettle, which means courage.”

  “Doesn’t matter, I can’t seem to compete with that walking computer.”

  Oh, don’t be mad. A person can have two best friends. You’d like Savvy if you gave her a chance.” Alivia knew Violet was a little skittish of the robot.

  “Maybe, she’s so much smarter than me, that hunk of nuts and bolts intimidates me,” Violet admitted with a sigh. “Anyway, I left your sexy boots on the bench in your bedroom. Don’t forget them. I know how you dream of being Darlena from Falcon’s Lair. The panel is in Ballroom B.”

  “You’re the best, Violet. Thank you.”

  “You just go and have some fun, boss lady. Enjoy the day off. Who knows, there might be some cute guys there dressed like Spiderman or whatever.” Violet blew a kiss to the camera. “Have fun. Bye.”

  “Cute guys? Ha! Not likely,” Alivia grumbled once her friend was gone. Violet had echoed her own sentiments from earlier – Alivia did need to get laid. Unfortunately, she’d been to these events in the past, and good-looking guys were as mythical as the heroes in the games she played.

  Cranking up the resistance on the bike, she began to pedal. If she had to, she’d burn up her sexual frustration with exercise. Lord knows, her prospects of finding male companionship tomorrow were slim to none.

  * * *

  The convention center was a hive of activity when Saxon arrived. Everywhere he looked he saw booths representing the biggest companies in the video game and comic business. Cosplayers from all genres imaginable strolled the big rooms with confidence that Saxon reasoned they probably didn’t have in their everyday lives. Hiding be
hind the outfits and masks gave them a sense of power. The men puffed their chests out a little farther than usual, and the women dressed more provocatively than they normally would. Princess Leia in her gold metal bikini, usually with a very necessary cover-up, seemed to be everywhere at the event, no doubt in homage to the recently deceased Carrie Fisher.

  He’d asked Micah to come along to the event, making the same promise of beautiful women he’d declared to Destry the night before. Even as he’d voiced the invitation, Saxon knew he was wasting his breath. Micah wasn’t interested. “No thanks, partner,” he’d responded via text this very morning. “The only hottie this big bad wolf is interested in is making me breakfast as we speak.” Micah had sent a picture of Madison standing at the stove in her housecoat, pouring pancake batter onto a griddle.

  Saxon would be sure to tell Madison what her husband had done, hopefully getting the wolf into trouble the way he loved to do to everyone else, even though Saxon already knew his ploy wouldn’t work. Madison was wrapped securely around Micah’s little finger. With a smile, he admitted to himself that the feeling was mutual between the couple, Madison held Micah’s heart in the palm of her hand.

  As expected, Jet had declined the invitation as well. Sami was nearing her due date, and the big fella was as nervous as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs. Even Tyson had begged off, sighting some obligation with Marisol. “That’s one relationship I do not understand,” he muttered to himself as he milled around, taking in the upcoming game and movie releases. To hear Ty tell it, there was nothing going on between him and the sexy journalist. Yet, every time anyone looked, they were always together. “And here am I, all alone,” he mumbled, admitting to himself how much he hated going to these things by himself. “Again.”

  The feeling of abandonment was pushed from his mind when he arrived at the queue to get into the Ryker’s Strike 4: Final Encounter panel. He was about to complain about the long line when he noticed a gorgeous woman just ahead of him with the most exquisite ass he’d ever seen. Saxon felt the tightening of his jeans as his cock began to react to this vision, his mind bombarded with fantasies about what he’d love to do to her. Letting out a long, frustrated breath, he moved his gaze to the standing sign detailing the specifics of the event. He hoped reading the agenda would banish the erotic thoughts so that he could enjoy the presentation.

 

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