by Master Nage
Luna Waning
By
Master Nage
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Luna Waning
Copyright ã 2004 Master Nage
Cover art and design by Martine Jardin
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Published by eXtasy Books, a division of Zumaya Publications, 2004
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Dedication:
For slaves past.
Earth, June 2147
Time Police Headquarters
New Warsaw, Europa
“You’re a bit of a rebel, aren’t you, Luna?”
I didn’t know what to say. I stood before him, as his was the only chair in the room. The others had been dismissed, absorbed into the flux beneath the shimmering floor. He could command a seat to form at will, but I didn’t think he would... not from the expression on his cold, yet handsome face.
As men went, Jondhru was just about the best-looking. Long almost-black hair, eyes nearly that dark, olive skin, and a body to die for—that was Jondhru. Jondhru, it was the only name anyone knew him by, was the top ranking official in the Time Police, an organization established in the early part of the twenty-second century. Jondhru was ruthless, cold, efficient and totally pro-agency. Thus I was terrified by the summons to his office, for Jondhru would as soon kill me as brief me.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Sir.”
I tried to guess how he might see me—flame-red hair that almost reached the middle of my back, milk-white skin, long sensuous legs and the best breasts money could buy. I was topless but wore a pair of shorts made to look more like a heavy mist than any type of fabric. Outside, I’d have probably worn a matching mist-camisole, though it wasn’t necessary on base. Most men, I knew, found me attractive. Jondhru, on the other hand, never reacted at all. I might as well be negotiating with a computer. I’d have had a better chance.
His eyes narrowed. “Don’t be coy, Luna. You know as well as I that you’re a danger to the agency. You have no discipline. You do as you please. You wouldn’t know a regulation if it bit you on the ankle…”
“Sir, I…”
“Silence! I’m not done with you, Agent Luna.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“What were you thinking? Have you ever read the procedure manual?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“And where in that manual does it tell you to kill a man you were sent to bring back?”
“It was either him or me, Sir.”
“I know. I saw the recording, but I needed Thurgood alive. You were sent to bring him back alive. Do you know what alive means?”
“Yes, of course, Sir.”
“How then did he end up dead?”
“I was defending myself, Sir.”
“Well next time, don’t. Thurgood was a key witness in an investigation that took five years to build. Without him I’m starting from scratch. The next time, if you’re in a life and death situation with instructions to bring your target in alive, you follow procedure!”
“And what would that be, Sir?”
I knew it was coming before he said it. “You die. That’s your fucking job. You, Luna, are expendable. Thurgood wasn’t. Under ordinary circumstances I’d make an example of you, but I have another idea instead.”
“Sir?”
“You, my dear, are going on an assignment.”
This did not bode well but I surely couldn’t refuse him. I wouldn’t be the first agent who went to see the boss, never to return.
“Yes, Sir.”
“You’re to track a dermagen.”
The flux-walls, pulsing with energy, closed in around me. My eyes widened.
“How is that possible, Sir?”
“Frankly, I don’t care. But you find him, and you strand him. Understood? Or it will be early retirement for you.”
“Yes, Sir.”
He might as well have sentenced me to death.
* * * *
The operations room was as it always was—almost empty except for the operator on duty. His name was Jax, and he was like every android I’d ever met. Human-looking, but without feeling. He might have looked like a blond, blue-eyed love machine, but there was no sparkle in his eye, no inflection in his words. I didn’t know how other women used such beings for sexual gratification. I would never lower myself so. Then again, I had my pick of flesh-men.
I looked in the holding cell and she was there, sleeping—Mary Weller nee O’Donnell. From her dossier I knew she was a nineteenth-century housewife living in the Weller Mansion on the outskirts of northern London. The Weller family had made their wealth in shipping. Mary had married into it, showing there wasn’t anything a good Irish girl couldn’t do if she was slutty enough. Unfortunately, her husband wasn’t the brains behind the family fortune, and so they slept in separate bedrooms, while Mary sought out the favor of Benjamin, her husband’s more successful brother.
“She’s quite attractive,” said Jax at my shoulder.
I was forced to agree. Shoulder length brown hair, brown eyes (closed at the moment, but I knew the color from her dossier), and just a bit top-heavy for my taste. It would be no fun lacing myself into the dresses in her closet. Fortunately, a serving girl would be doing the actual lacing, for I wasn’t sure I could manage it.
I turned my attention from her, always a hard thing to do when seeing a donor for the first time—I would soon become her.
“How long do we have?” I asked.
“No one will enter her room for another 6.24 hours. We have plenty of time.”
I nodded. “Are you ready for transfer?”
”Of course.”
I only asked out of courtesy. Jax had about as much chance of falling behind schedule as I had of following the rules. Something I’d picked up from my mother, who must have liked rebellious genes, for all my siblings had them. I was the only one working for the agency though.
I entered the empty cell next to her, lay down on the bed. The lights went off. I slept, knowing when I awoke I would not only look like Mary Weller, but would have her memories overlaid on my own.
* * * *
Jax stood over me, as he always did after synchronization, and helped me into a sitting position.
“How do you feel, Luna?”
“Terrific. Time?”
“You have 6.11 hours remaining.”
“Jeeeeze that was fast.”
“Her mind isn’t exactly filled to brimming. You know what she knows.”
I examined my new cache of knowledge. “Not much, luv, but it’s all there.”
“Good.”
“Jax, tell me about the dermagen.”
“He is called Rexlor on his planet. I don’t have to tell you he is dangerous.” Without facial expressions, the android might have been talking about a vid. “Like all dermagen, he can take any shape. He does pretty much what we do, but without the equipment. He absorbs his host, taki
ng not only form, but memories. He will be like you, completely indistinguishable from the people of that year.”
“That’s just lovely. How am I supposed to find him?”
“With this.”
He handed me a small wooden box. There was no longer any such thing as real wood but having made more than one foray into the past, I was familiar with it. I suspected this was teak but didn’t know for sure. I took the box and opened it.
“What are these?”
”Tarot cards. They belong to the subject, but they are, how shall we say, modified.”
I looked into my mind for information about them. Fortune telling cards. I almost laughed, but knew I was traveling to a primitive society. What did I expect?
“How do I use them?”
“Just do a reading as normal. When the resultant card is the Ace of Wands, you will know he is near.”
“How did you arrange that?”
”A tedious amount of quantum theory and some really ingenious microtechnics. As much time as we have left, it’s not enough to explain it.”
“Good enough. Why the Ace of Wands?”
“The beginning of working on something, a project of sorts. Once you find him, that’s when your job begins.”
“So I have to wait around for the cards to indicate this guy is around. That’s just terrific. Give me some good news. Once he’s nearby, is there a way to tell who he is without the cards? It’s hardly practical to stop and do a tarot reading with the target in range.”
“You have to have sex with him.”
“You’re kidding.”
“I never kid. At the moment of orgasm the dermagen revert to their true form. If you can make him cum for you, you will expose him.”
“That I can do.”
“I have no doubt, Luna.”
I stood and walked around, testing my new body. A full six inches shorter than I was used to, and probably thinner as well. Not much strength, I’m afraid, so I’d have to use guile. It was never one of my strong points, but then, I’d made it this far. Many other agents who had attended the academy with me had already been neutralized. A rather pleasant way of saying MIA.
“What did this dermagen do, anyway?”
“The information is classified, Luna, but there is a priority 1.1 rating. He is a threat to all humanity.”
“This just gets better and better. Anything else I need to know?”
“Just one thing,” said Jax.
“Yes?”
“Whatever you do, don’t let him make you cum.”
I rolled my eyes. “And why is that?”
“Because they have ways of capturing humans. No one understands the method, but it is known that once you cum for them, you will lose your objectivity where they are concerned.”
“That’s just great. Just what I needed to hear. Any idea who he might be?”
“Dermagen are erratic in behavior, but analysis suggests he would be the most powerful male in the house. Having control is very important to them. Remember that.”
“Benjamin Weller.”
“Yes, most likely.”
“Well, Mary has been interested in Mr. Weller for some time, so it shouldn’t be a problem to pull this off.” I looked down at her lush body and grinned. “Shouldn’t be a problem at all.”
I lay back down on the bed. “Begin transmission.”
I closed my eyes and waited, knowing when I next became conscious, I would be close to three hundred years in the past, looking for a dangerous alien for the first time in my rather unusual career.
Earth, May1858
London, England
The Weller Mansion
I opened my eyes. The bed was soft beneath me—softer than I was used to. The feather quilt made me feel hot though shedding it didn’t help. I rose, not at all surprised I was sleeping in the nude. I had, after all, seen the real Mary Weller.
The wooden box containing my only modern convenience was in my right hand. Anything more complex might give me away, which I could ill afford. As it was, I had enough working against me.
I ignored the dressing-gown on the chair by the bed and sat at the desk instead. The room was richly appointed, if smaller than the room I’d shared with my husband. I thought of him, shook my head and returned to the matter at hand. I opened the box, removed the cards and shuffled them. I thought it would be uncomfortable but it wasn’t. Within a minute I had a tarot reading laid out on the desk before me.
To my surprise, the resultant card was the Ace of Wands. My target was nearby, most likely in this very house. All I had to do was find him and rock his world. Piece of cake.
I winced at the inappropriate idiom. Having been on many previous missions, sometimes odd phraseology crept into my vocabulary. I’d have to watch what I said lest I be suspected. I drew on my dressing-gown, tied it at the waist, and cracked open the door. The house should have been asleep at that hour or so I assumed. If I wanted to dress I would have to wake a servant, but had no reason to.
My memory of the house was perfect and I knew exactly where to find my husband’s bedroom. I almost stopped in to surprise him, but decided against it. Jax had suggested his brother Benjamin was likely my target, so that is where I would go.
It wouldn’t take long to find out one way or another. I just hoped the man was alone.
As I made my way down the wood-paneled corridor, I thought of what I knew about Benjamin Weller. Not a bad looking man by any means. Tall, dark and handsome would best describe him, but of course, there was more to it than that. He was about six feet tall—almost a giant by the standards of the time—well-muscled but not muscle-bound. His short dark hair was almost black, his eyes a vivid green and his moustache neatly trimmed.
Benjamin had never married and had a new ‘maid’ every week. We all knew these maids were common whores, well maybe not common, but whores anyway, not that anyone dared point out the fact. With his money and power, he had no reason to take a wife. Not with the parade of beauty he had to pick from.
Still, I knew he also had lovers from society. I wondered if he’d feel guilty about bedding his brother’s wife. Probably not, I decided. It was common knowledge he’d always seen Arthur, his younger brother, my worthless husband, as more of a leech than family. Benjamin probably kept him around just to keep an eye on him. It was well known they didn’t much like each other. I would play on that, of course. I’d cling to any advantage I could find.
I looked around guiltily before knocking. In the mid twenty-second century, we didn’t have the same sexual taboos that had lingered for so long, but after a mind transfer, it’s sometimes hard to separate your own thoughts from those of the donor.
I knocked, then opened the door a crack. I assumed he was sleeping. I had never been in his bedchamber before and so was surprised this was not his actual sleeping quarters but a private sitting room. There was a palette on the floor where the maid was supposed to sleep. It was empty. Why would he sleep alone when he could have his prize in bed with him? I crept silently through the room and placed my ear to the door.
No sound. Whatever acts of sex had been going on had long since ceased. I thought I heard a gentle snore, but could have been mistaken. Without knocking this time, I pushed the door ajar. It was almost dark in the room. By the light of the dying fire, I could vaguely make out two shapes in the bed. I crept to his side of the bed, well aware the man was lusty enough to take me in front of a servant. It would probably turn him on.
The maid became aware first and sat up, startled. She saw me and cried out. I didn’t worry about being discovered. I was certain many cries had been heard from Benjamin’s bedchamber.
“What is this?” asked the master of the house, sitting up.
“I apologize, Sir.”
He recognized my voice immediately. The maid/whore made no attempt to cover her nakedness. I thought I could see a tentative smile, but it could have been my imagination.
“Explain yourself, Madam.”
“
I couldn’t help myself, Sir. My husband…” I trailed off, knowing he’d ask.
“Yes?”
“He has a problem. A male problem.”
Benjamin’s laughter was loud and abrasive. I immediately couldn’t stand him. I knew beyond any doubt I had already found the object of my quest.
“So even in that area my brother is a disgrace. It doesn’t surprise me. How long has it been, woman?”
“I can’t remember, Sir. Two years, maybe more. I awoke from a dream of a lascivious nature and could wait no longer to beg your attentions.”
Again he laughed and turned to the girl beside him. “Light a lamp. This is going to be a night worth remembering.”
He patted the bed beside him and I sat, smiling at him, hopefully shyly. I suspected this was a man who wanted to be in charge. And I’d let him too, until I pulled the cum from him and made him reveal himself for what he was.
When the room grew bright I had a chance to look about me. The bed was a four-poster, which came as no surprise, however it was larger than I thought it would be. Benjamin’s room was far nicer than mine, effectively showcasing his wealth. I had no time to analyze what was around me, for already the master of the house was untying the knot that held my modesty in place, ready to reveal my nakedness in front of a whore. Had I truly been Mary Weller I’d have been mortified. Realizing this, I allowed myself to get into character and blush. Let him have his fun now, soon it would all be over.
I couldn’t help but notice the size of his hands or the confidence with which he unknotted my robe. It fell open, revealing my pale breasts. He cupped one experimentally, hefted then released it, before moving his hand to my waist.
He turned me toward him and I didn’t resist. I lowered my gaze so I didn’t meet his eyes. For some reason I feared them. I had never before experienced that sensation and it unnerved me. I had to remind myself I was here on business, and failure would likely be punishable by death.