Liberation's Desire
Page 1
Liberation’s Desire
A Science Fiction Romance
Robotics Faction Book 2
by Wendy Lynn Clark
Copyright © 2015 Wendy Lynn Clark
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 0989692086
ISBN-13: 978-0-9896920-8-3
DEDICATION
To my mom.
For all the long summer hikes sharing plans and dreams, for all the quiet hours reading together, for all the books you bought off my Christmas and birthday lists. For really listening and for sometimes following me on my crazy trips. For always being there, even when “there” was an abandoned airport in Thailand or an empty middle school parking lot.
And, of course, for introducing me to the inimical science fiction secret agent, Keith Laumer’s Retief.
SUMMARY
A red-hot, ice-cold analyst. A delicious chef who’s all heart. He’ll risk everything for one more taste…
Mercury dreamed of cooking exotic feasts to charm and delight her family. All that changed when the Robotics Faction targeted her sister. With her family shattered, Mercury has no choice but to go into hiding. She’s vulnerable. She’s alone. And they know exactly where she is!
Yves is an android for the “benevolent” faction. His assignment is to watch Mercury from afar, even though he’s absolutely entranced by her. When a rogue agent severs his connection to the faction, he starts a new mission: keep Mercury safe at all costs.
As the two run from the all-powerful faction, fear turns into passion. Yves must use every byte of his skill to protect Mercury from his former masters, the rogue agent, and most of all… himself.
Table of Contents
TITLE
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
NEXT
PROLOGUE
“We are under attack.” Ruling CEO of the Antiata conglomerate leaned across his onyx desk. A holographic tattoo of the family crest, a fist erupting a sun, glimmered across his knuckles. “Who is our attacker?”
Chen and Oleron, representatives of two important subfamilies, shifted uncomfortably in their floating seats. Chalices of hot coffee sat untouched on their gem-encrusted coasters. When private meetings like this one were called, someone died.
Or worse, they lost their position on the Board.
The CEO narrowed his gaze on Chen. “Deterrence?”
Blade-sharp Chen rested an ankle across her taut knee. “None of our military campaigns affect the main families.”
“I am not asking about military campaigns. Our own family members are disappearing and dying without any explanation.”
She swallowed. “We have no vulnerabilities—”
“Bring up the data on the Sarit Antiata family.”
Chen did so. The profiles of three children—two younger girls, one older half-brother—displayed on the onyx desk.
The Sarit Antiatas weren’t a terribly important family. The mother had once been in line to govern a solar system, but had married a man who lost his seat on the Board ten generations ago. Now they were simply a “named” member of the corporate aristocracy. Important, wealthy, and you might meet one at a cocktail party, but they would never hold a position of actual power.
Oleron fidgeted with his gold shades.
The ruler tapped the picture of the older girl. “Cressida’s resurrection data was destroyed fourteen years ago in an ‘unidentified accident.’”
A child with smooth brown hair and a serious mien faced the camera, hands folded over a crisp elementary school uniform. The perfect daughter of a diplomatic couple.
“Tell me, Chen. Why would Cressida’s loving parents choose the incredible risk of not replacing the backup for their daughter?”
A muscle in Chen’s jaw twitched. “Because they feared for her life.”
“Yes, they feared a second attempt would destroy her—and her data—once and for all. Why was this not investigated fourteen years ago?”
“Because…” She glanced at Oleron and back to the ruler. Her eyes were hard, clear, and sharp. “Because they accused the Robotics Faction.”
Oleron snorted.
The ruler flicked to the Entertainment division head. “Amusing?”
All the blood drained from Oleron’s face. “Not at all.”
“Let’s hear it.”
“I thought—uh—well, I wondered if they accused their light switches or the bathroom thermostat? Or maybe...” He looked down at his robotically-controlled floating chair and up at the robotic security systems, then lifted his coffee, swirling the robotically-heated chalice. “Maybe their most sinister coffee mugs?”
Silence stretched thin.
“I mean, come on,” he said, blood pumping to his head. Maybe Chen was not the only one about to get axed. “Why the hell would the Robotics Faction seriously target one little girl?”
“Yes, exactly.”
He blinked.
“I also want to know this, Oleron. Why would the benevolent Robotics Faction ‘seriously’ target any member of our family?” The ruler leaned on his knuckles. “I have not reached this position by ignoring threats. When I see a target locked on my footman, I do not wait to see if it will proceed up my employees to me.”
“No, I wasn’t trying to imply—”
“Anyway, the Sarit Antiatas chose instead to flee. Two weeks ago, their hidden location was discovered by Robotics Faction allies, and Cressida disappeared.”
“She died?” Oleron asked. A chill passed beneath his tan. “Permanently?”
“We have no idea. Do we, Chen?”
Chen stilled.
“This morning,” the ruler continued, “resurrection data of the younger sister, Mercury, was destroyed in a second ‘unidentified accident.’”
The younger girl’s picture moved forward on the desk. Unlike perfect Cressida, the child Mercury’s eyes were slightly crossed and her mouth formed a goofy grin while chubby hands tugged at her wrinkled uniform. A dark smudge stained her sleeve like chocolate.
She was clearly a wild child, the reason most parents waited several centuries to have children, and she made Oleron glad he’d outsourced parenting his own kids to professional institutions so they would be raised right.
Oleron laughed. “Oh, come on. Losing one kid is an accident. The second one is irresponsibility. Why didn’t they ask Chen here for special privileges to store Mercury’s data in the secure vault?”
“They did.”
Chen turned even more statuesque.
“Mercury’s name was changed to Chen to hide her connection to Cressida.”
Oleron frowned. “Then how—”
The ruler slammed his palms on the desk. “Someone is hunting these girls, while we are doing nothing!”
Oleron jumped, spilling scalding coffee across his lap.
“Extricating ourselves from Faction technology would be inconvenient. However, I also don’t intend to wake up and find my light switch trying to kill me.” The ruler pointed to Oleron. “If you solve this mystery, I will appoint one of your relatives to Chen’s seat.”
So, his subfamily would control two positions on the all-powerful Board of the Antiata
conglomerate. Oleron flapped his suit.
Chen sat still as glass.
“Check it.” Oleron leaned forward, one hand leaving a damp print on the desk. “The parents sold off their kids’ spots for a few credits and lied to get new ones.”
“Sales leave a record. And someone else’s data would be in the resurrection facilities. Instead…” The ruler scooped up and dropped Chen’s full coffee into his desktop reprocessor slot. The chalice disassembled to its molecules in a silent puff. “Both are simply gone. As if they never existed. And we do not know who is next.”
Oleron swallowed.
“You will submit a list of every possible explanation for these two assassinations. Your deadline is tomorrow.”
He straightened, already transmitting the orders to his most creative staff. A second seat was almost within his grasp.
“Chen. Will the Faction target the rest of us, picking off our subfamilies one-by-one? Is there truly something special about the Sarit Antiata family? Consider this your capstone assignment and don’t disappoint me.”
She nodded tightly.
“Also report back to me on where we compete with the Faction.”
“That I can answer now.” She pushed her short, black hair back from her temple. “We fight their soldiers or drones in military campaigns. As often, we lease them for our own use. The Faction is infamous for not taking a side in any conflict. They sell their technology cheaply to anyone who can pay the price.”
“We don’t fight over any resources? None at all?”
“Robots do not require food, water, or even a constant supply of oxygen. There is no conflict.”
“Cressida and Mercury would disagree. We need to find out why.” He sipped his coffee. “I assume you have warned Mercury about her data loss and imminent danger.”
“A notice will arrive at her secret location within the hour.”
“Good. The courier will escort her to safety and we can hear her explanation.”
Chen’s lips tightened.
The ruler lowered his coffee to the desk with a click. “No?”
She stared right back. Not fidgeting, not folding. Not breathing. “We sent a notice only.”
“Of course you did.”
“I will assemble a team immediat—”
“Don’t bother.” The ruler flexed his knuckles, shimmering the family crest. “Mercury will be all alone when the assassin, whoever he is, follows your notice to her hidden location. Congratulations, Chen. I can’t think of a more effective method to permanently kill her.”
CHAPTER ONE
The doorbell echoed through Mercury’s empty apartment.
Strange.
She closed her cookbook, tightened her threadbare house robe, and hurried down the narrow hall.
The dim view screen showed an attractive man with a courier logo on his right breast. Fit and muscular, his uniform stretched tight against his powerful thighs, and large biceps flexed to lift a box. He bounced lightly on his toes. A friendly smile touched his chiseled lips.
She hit the intercom. “Can I help you?”
His smile deepened, sending a little thrill of heat through her. “I sure hope you can. I’m looking for Mercury Chen Laredo?”
“That’s me.”
“Do you own this asteroid?” He tilted his head. “Mercury of Mares Mercury?”
She laughed, but inside, she winced. Her ten-year-old self had read the shared name with starry-eyes, never realizing how one accident would seal her destiny. “No, not exactly.”
He touched the darkened screen, which was broken on his side. “Shy about strangers?”
“Oh, no. I love them.”
He laughed, as if he knew from delivering millions of packages to out-of-the-way places that the residents were usually lonely, desperate, and all ready to fall upon a delicious new distraction like him. “I’ve got a big one for you, and I’d love it if you would let me in.”
Ah, a hot, flirtatious man at her door, and here she was wearing an old robe. Maybe he would confuse it with tumbled-out-of-bed sexiness?
Mercury dragged one hand through her out-of-control brown hair, sucked in her belly, put on her best for-attractive-strangers welcome face, and opened the door. “Come on in.”
As he looked her over, his sexy smile faltered. He remained on her doorstep and his tone steeled to professional. “Oh, you know, here is just fine. Mercury Chen Laredo, verify for delivery.” He held the package up to her forehead, where her identification chip was buried a fraction of an inch behind her skull.
The package read the name broadcast by her chip as “Mercuri,” then printed “Alsa Sigfrin,” then “Calypso Figgore” and flashed red. An incorrect delivery.
He frowned at the nameplate beside her door. “Huh. You got a sister?”
“Ah.” She forced herself to keep smiling. “Can you verify my identity by an eye-scan? My chip doesn’t read right.”
“Probably. Let me see.” He swiped the package verification options. “You better get your chip fixed.”
“It’s expensive.”
“I’d sue.”
Identification chips were installed before birth to guarantee a baby’s health, wealth, and citizenship rights. If anything went wrong, the procedure to reinstall the chip was ridiculously expensive and sometimes deadly, so most people in her position would scream for blood money. They would get it too.
Unless they had already undergone a secret illegal surgery to alter their identification, and the damage to her original chip was an unfortunate side effect of a botched job.
Like Mercury.
“You can never travel,” the courier said, “never work off-planet, never go anywhere. It’s only backwater places like this asteroid that let you get away with non-standards, like eye scans.”
“It’s okay.” She shrugged. “Who’d want to go away from all this?”
The man glanced down the slanted floor to the groaning elevator. Gray air cut with the stench of rotten laundry seeped through the cracks. Even Mercury’s military-captain uncle, who had spent most of his life “in shitty foxholes on alien shit holes,” had to get out at least once a year.
The courier shook his head and held the package up to her face, in front of her right eye this time. “You’re going to die here, you know.”
She blinked in the sudden flash—eye scan accepted—and closed boneless fingers around the box. “Not today, I hope.”
“The sooner the better, right? They’ll make you a new body with a fixed chip.” He tapped her forehead, gave her a lingering flirty grin, and took off, leaving her hungry, confused, and alone in her apartment.
Her front door closed.
Mercury unpacked a tragic red-and-gold box informing her about someone else’s death (and probably their resurrection). She didn’t bother to open it and find out who had died this time. Sad Notices of Death and Dismemberments had come pretty often this year. Her uncle’s old unit must be reaching the accident-prone age.
Although…something about the last interaction tugged at her. Something amiss…
Or, she was on edge because her uncle was due tomorrow and she hadn’t yet planned his annual welcome-back-from-fishing party. Last year’s feast of delicacies smothered with savory, spicy sauces had spread delight amongst all who attended. This year, she vowed to tantalize palates with lusher, more exotic flavors.
She dropped the package on the overflowing mail shelf and started down the hall to review her cookbook.
The doorbell rang again.
Perhaps the hot courier had returned to bring her romantic fantasies to life? Mercury loosened her robe, tugged her collar down to expose more skin, and threw open the door without checking who was outside. “Welcome back…oh.”
Haskins, her former classmate and currently self-important Transit Authority Officer, stood, stiff as a wall, on her doorstep. “Mercury Chen Laredo?”
“You know I am.” She admired the second broad, muscular chest of the day, outlined by a tri
m uniform, to appear on her doorstep. Too bad she knew way too much about the man behind this one. “My uncle’s Welcome Home party is tomorrow.”
“That’s not why I’m here.” He brandished a legal summons.
Oh, no. “I paid that parking ticket six months ago.”
“They don’t send him out for a parking ticket.”
The one old, silver-plated enforcer of Mares Mercury stationed itself outside her door. Its presence proclaimed official business.
She reached out to read the summons. “Then what?”
He twitched it away. “You’re under arrest.”
“Please.” She rolled her eyes at her classmate. “What for?”
“Official business.” He returned the crisp summons to its spotless case, recited the regulations allowing him to enter her apartment, and sharpened his gaze on the just-delivered package. “Who’s this for?”
“My uncle.”
“I don’t think so.” He collected it as evidence.
“He gets these all the time.” She followed him down her narrow hall to the living room. “What are you looking for?”
Haskins parked his trim butt in her kitchen. “Evidence.”
“Evidence of what?”
Some people expected their apartment to be painted in camo or have heads mounted on the peeling walls. But her uncle was simply a retired soldier. And now he worked as a chemical engineer, same as Mercury.
“Evidence of what has drawn a unit of armed enforcers to our little asteroid.” He held up the red-gold box. “Come to take away one little Sarit Antiata.”
A sliver of ice crystallized in her veins.
No. Not now. Not while her uncle was away and she was here alone, isolated on Mares Mercury.
“I—” Her voice broke. She cleared her throat. “What are you talking about?”
“Hello?” Haskins raised his voice and looked around the empty apartment. “Sarit Antiata? Come out, come out.”
“Sarit Antiata is a brand name.” The pounding of her heart almost deafened her lie. “For jewelry. And cars and stuff. Not a person. Um, why are you here, again?”
The summons’ blood-red ink shimmered in its case. “I have to wait at the ‘location of apprehension’ until the enforcers arrive.”