Ericca unfolded the thin material. It was a black, one piece workout leotard. It was armless and legless but had a belt. She quickly stripped off her clothes and pulled it on and tightened the belt, then considered herself in the mirror. Luckily she had a body able to pull off the look. She stepped from the room, and Mara led her back to Jordon.
Taking her hand, Jordon pressed a hidden button and a small compartment in her forearm opened. Using a special tool Jordon inserted the metal disc and closed the arm. “Step closer. Give me your leg.”
When Ericca offered him her bionic leg, he touched a certain place and a hole appeared in her upper thigh. He inserted another disc and closed it back up. “All set.”
Ericca looked at Race quizzically. “Sure, I guess.”
“In your mind’s eye, Ericca, picture a pretty dress,” Jordon said.
Ericca closed her eyes, did as he asked, then opened them again. The dress she’d visualized was what she now wore. “Wow. This is incredible. How does this work.”
Jordy grinned. “Now think the words, and I mean loudly inside your head, ‘Reset dress’.”
Ericca did so, but nothing changed.
“Now think of jeans and a top.”
She did so and what she imagined replaced the dress.
“There you go,” Jordon said.
“What is this, Captain?”
He snorted a laugh. “My captaining days are done. Call me Doctor or Doc.”
“Sorry, Doc.” She hesitated. “Hmph! That’ll take some getting used to.”
“The two chips—the main and its redundant backup—allow your limbs to project clothing holographically. Go ahead, touch them. Feel them.”
The material felt real and responded to her touch just as cloth would have. “How is this possible?”
Mara trundled down the stairs.
“Mom,” Jordon said. “Show Ericca what you can do.”
Mara’s dress suddenly changed to a pantsuit, then to a dress, to a full length overcoat, and then back to her original dress just that quick.
Ericca’s jaw dropped.
Mara grinned at that.
“Ericca,” Race said, “for all intents and purposes, Mom was Jordy’s prototype. She spurred his work with holo-projectors.”
Mara nodded. “Jordy discovered certain energy frequencies can, in a manner, be felt. Though invisible, these frequencies can not only mimic tactile sensations but can bend visible light in predictable ways. A dress made of this energy, to a point, moves and responds like the material it’s programmed to imitate; it reacts so closely to what it should, it’ll fool the average Joe if he isn’t looking too closely.”
Jordon considered Ericca thoughtfully. “I’ve simply learned how to fool the eye, fool the senses, and thus fool the mind. What you think you’re touching is a simple . . . well, not so simple . . . nudge to the nerves in your skin. You think you’re feeling cloth, but you aren’t really. The brain merely translates the stimulus given it into recognizable patterns.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Show her, Mom,” Race said.
Jordon dipped his head. “Go ahead.”
Looking squarely at Ericca, Mara’s appearance suddenly changed. No longer holographically hidden, her chest, neck, and left side of her face to the ear bore severe scarring, probably from a fire. Her arm, too, was scarred, but less so.
Mara raised a wry smile, skewed by scars that held the left side of her face frozen. “From the very beginning, Jordy was bothered by how others reacted to my scars. I think he felt my pain as much as I did. Unlike everyone else, he never showed any sign of revulsion, but instead he sought to solve the problem. I am the result.”
“Ma’am, I didn’t know,” Ericca said.
Mara’s face changed back. She took a breath. “Because these scars prevent my mouth from moving right, the holographic overlay has to be regulated by something else.”
“It reads her mind,” Jordon said, “and translates that into an expression.”
“Do you see the problem?” Rachel asked.
Ericca thought for a moment. “Oh, I see. Unlike us, Mara, you can’t hide your feelings. Your face gives you away.”
“It’s frustrating,” Mara said. “My displeasure in some of the things you do, Ericca, translates into displeasure in you.”
“Your face betrays you,” Ericca said. “While I can smile at someone who’s upset me, you can’t. I am so sorry.”
“Yes, well. Maybe we can put that all behind us. You are always welcome in my home, Ericca. Just don’t read too much into my face.”
Ericca stepped forward to hug her. “We’re good, then?”
“Right as rain,” Mara said, and she smiled. It was good to know that this one wasn’t anything other than what it was; an honest smile.
Ericca’s eyes unexpectedly welled. The image of Jordon mooning over his Mom before their little Talon theft now made perfect sense. He wasn’t faking anything. He wasn’t putting on a show. He truly and deeply loved his mom, and saw no reason to hide that love from anyone.
Mara, though . . . Ericca now understood the older woman’s disadvantage. Her soured expression wasn’t to be read into as Ericca once thought. Her smiles were genuine, but the resentment written in her face could be caused by so many things it’d be unfair to take it personally.
Back when Archer and Ericca were sitting in Viper perched on the Prince, Archer had said, “Some people can see beyond skin’s surface.” He was referring to Jordon as the seer, not Mara.
Presently Mara smiled, and for the first time Ericca saw something in her eyes she’d never before noticed. How could she have so misjudged the older woman; Mara and Jordon both. Falling into her arms, Ericca hugged Mara with all the love she would have shown her own mother.
“Now,” Mara said after a moment, “enough of that.” She kissed Ericca’s cheek and pulled back, and Ericca saw Mara’s eyes had welled.
Ericca sniffled and, with an embarrassed chuckle, wiped the moisture from her own cheeks. I’m tougher than this, she thought. What’s with all this blubbering? She was feeling things now on a very deep level. Her once hard exterior had cracked and fallen away. What was underneath she didn’t like, but only because it was new and she hadn’t yet learned to wear it well. At some point she’d have to get a grip, take stock of who she wanted to be, and bridle her emotions.
“Let’s talk about why we brought you here,” Mara suggested.
Ericca forced a grin, and shrugged.
“Normal clothes get in the way of your hidden pistol, right?” Jordon said.
“Doesn’t matter. I haven’t been able to get the mechanism to work anyway.”
Looking past Ericca, Jordon’s eye grew as large as saucers. “NO! DON’T SHOOT!”
Ericca spun. There was no one behind her. Then she noticed the gun in her hand. In the instant it took to turn around, the prosthetic leg hiding the gun, popped out the weapon to place right where she needed it most, right where her hand would find it. She had instantly grabbed it and aimed without thinking.
“Seems fine to me,” Race said. “Maybe you were overthinking it.”
Mara rubbed Ericca’s back reassuringly. “You’ll get it. That’s the thing about Jordy’s devices. You don’t have to think about them to be protected by them.”
Without looking, Ericca lowered her pistol to where she thought it should go. Without her having to give it any thought, the mechanics in her leg retrieved the gun and tucked it away. “This is so cool.”
“Just trying to keep you alive,” Jordon said.
Turning to him, she saw his smiling eyes drop to her leg and he nodded approvingly.
“Truly, I don’t know what to say,” she said turning to Mara.
The older woman’s scars had vanished. Her complexion was once again smooth and flawless. Well, not so flawless. Small imperfections made her skin appear real.
“Why are you guys doing all this for me?”
Jordon looked at her with a puzzled expressio
n. “She’s on to us, Mom. Okay, okay, you caught us. I admit this was just a ploy, a manipulative plan to get you to come around on Christmas day.”
Mara scowled. “I thought we agreed it’d be Mother’s Day?”
“Oh! Right you are, Mom. My bad.”
Ericca laughed. “I’ll make it both. Ah, what the heck. For good measure I’ll throw in Freedom Day too.”
“Ericca, you are, on a much smaller scale, a version of Freefall. Like that ship, you are fully shielded. You have the ability to cloak yourself to become completely invisible, and you can change your appearance at will.”
“That is sooo cool. But do I have a cargo bay like Freefall?” she said jokingly.
“You do, actually,” Race said. “There’s a small, shielded compartment hidden in your leg. In it you can smuggle items without worry of detection.”
“Smuggle? But why?”
“You’ll figure it out,” Jordon said. “Ericca Archer is going to be one formidable woman. I just have a feeling.”
“Fact is, Ericca,” Mara said, “Jordon has given you every advantage. No matter the difficulty or enemy you face, he’s tried to make it Ericca’s game to lose. Unless you purposefully hand the victory to them, you should win every time.”
My game to lose, Ericca thought. What an odd, open-ended statement. But Mara was right. Up to now, life had just been a game to Ericca. A game of what, though? Her against the universe? Dodge, parry, thrust? Where was that feeling of being part of something? She hadn’t felt like a part of anything since . . . since her folks were murdered. It was her and Archer. Just her and Archer. She had no home with Madam Lilia. None with Tyson in his mansion. No home on Freefall.
Even her life with her folks on Reliant was that of a traveler. She belonged . . . nowhere.
Then Ericca noticed the scorched cube sitting on a shelf behind Jordon, and gestured to it. “You said that was an urn. Can I ask you who it contains?”
Jordon looked back and stretched to retrieve the cube. “This is all that’s left of Reliant. I can’t access it without damaging it altogether.” He held it out to Ericca.
She lifted her chrome hand palm up, and Jordon set the box in it. Suddenly blue sparks flashed. Ericca went rigid. Blue streaks of lightning danced around the cube, found her hand, and disappeared into it. Unable to move, Ericca watched the room tumble forward and stop when she saw the ceiling. Her arm, rigid and pointed skyward; her hand, with her fingers curled, still clutched the box.
Jordon and Mara came into view over her, there faces a mix of surprise and worry.
Paralyzed, Ericca couldn’t even move her eyes. “Fresh cube,” she said stiffly. But those words weren’t hers. It was her mouth, but someone else had said them through her. “Please. New cube.”
Jordon drew away, and she heard him scrambling to paw through his cabinets. After a moment, he reappeared, pried the scorched cube from her hand, and replaced it with a new one.
Blue lightning immerged from her hand and arm, flashed and danced as it had before, then vanished as if sucked into the new cube.
Jordon snatched the cube just as Ericca’s arm collapsed back to her chest. The room seemed to flicker momentarily, then went completely dark. A moment later the lights returned, but the ceiling was different.
Dr. Panko came into her view. “How do you feel, child?”
Ericca hesitated. She felt good; better than good; she felt strong and alive. Sitting up with a jerk, she threw her legs to the floor. They were no longer in Jordon’s lab, but instead, in a bedroom. Nearby Jordon, Rachel, and Mara, stared at her in dismay.
“Wow. How long was I out?” she said, studying each face.
“Nearly three hours,” Penko said. He turned to the older couple. “Her heart rate and vitals are strong. I see no reason to keep her in bed. But I do want you to go to the hospital for tests. Tomorrow, if you’re up to it.”
“You gave us quite a start, young lady,” Mara said.
“Well, she’s fine now,” Penko said, and with that he gathered his things, said his goodbyes, and excused himself.
Ericca took and released a cleansing breath, and bolted to her feet. “I can’t ever remember feeling this good. What on Earth happened?”
A curious smile spread across Jordon’s face. “We got Reliant back.”
“Seriously?”
“Holographic avatar and all. Apparently you, Ericca, acted as a conduit for her essence. She transferred into you, and from you into a new cube. She’s setting in a test cradle as we speak, and as far as I can tell, she’s fully functional.”
This was absolutely fantastic news. They made their way from the upper room to the basement, and just as Ericca entered, Reliant’s avatar appeared. Stunned, and apprehensive, Ericca cautiously approached her old friend. “You’re back? Truly?”
“For the most part.” The Reliant avatar smiled and spread her arms out to the twenty-one-year-old. “My, girl, how you’ve grown.”
Ericca glanced at Mara, then Jordon, then looked at those inviting arms for a moment before falling into them. They were real, and warm, and gentle, and oh so missed. Ericca sniffled back tears then pulled back to wipe her cheeks with the back of her hand. “Oh, Reliant.”
“I know, dear.”
Mara swallowed back tears and blotted her eyes with a tissue.
“I was made for a spaceship though,” Reliant said. “Know where a descent A.I. can find work?”
Ericca shook her head. “I’m sorry. I don’t own a ship.”
Reliant smiled the more. “You will. In time, you will.”
Jordon gave a discreet cough. “Actually, Ericca, I’m in the process of designing you a new ship now.” His words just hang in the air for a long moment.
Ericca turned to him. “A ship for me?” She sounded hoarse. She cleared his throat. “Excuse me. My own ship?”
Jordon shrugged. “Reliant was never mine to keep locked away. Nor is she mine to give. If you want her, that’s strictly between you and her. I just thought that she’d suit you better in a ship than a test cradle.”
Ericca’s breath caught in her throat. This was all too much to take in. Then Ericca felt a devious smile raise her cheeks. She turned to the avatar. “Do you have any experience, Reliant? References perhaps? Perhaps a résumé?”
Reliant’s brows leveled. “I’m afraid I don’t.”
“Well, okay,” Ericca said reluctantly. “I suppose I can give you a go. But this’ll have to be on a probationary, trial-type bases. If you keep your nose clean, work hard, and don’t give me any reason to fire you, we’ll revisit the possibility of keeping you on full time. The work might be a bit dull, but at least the pay is lousy.”
Reliant’s smile softened. “Now that sounds like a plan I can live with.”
Chapter Sixty-Six
The auditorium filled quickly as students eager to learn found their seats. Though many were as young as eight, or as old as eighteen, most fell into the fourteen to fifteen year-old category. At the room’s head, Riley half sat, half leaned against a large desk centered on the raised platform. Behind him sat Ericca and her chief Training Instructors. Each had been associated with Riley’s father, Stan Archer, in one way or another. Like Riley and his sister, each wore a one piece, dark blue flight suit, the uniform of the school’s instructors. Students wore light-sky-blue. He glanced about the room, which was a clamor of shifting chairs and excited chatter, and saw the last seat finally taken.
He pushed to his feet and, the moment she rose, the room fell silent. Riley let the quiet marinate for a moment before speaking. “Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Lieutenant Riley Archer, and I’m proud to welcome you to Rhone’s very own Edward Richardson Memorial Military Academy.”
The room broke out in cheers, hoots, and applause. Few knew who Richardson was, the hero he had been. They weren’t excited by that at all. They were motivated by this new opportunity given them to defend their home.
Riley looked back at his sister, Ericca. He had spe
nt the last six months, unbeknownst to her, travelling throughout the galaxy recruiting instructors for the academy. Those he had specifically looked for and found, were his father’s most loyal and trusted friends. He had gone all the way to Los Dabaron to find two of the four men now seated here. Beside his sister sat William Taft on her one hand, and Jake Ryder on her other. Tony Tennyson and Dillan Slone he found living secretively on Atheron. Both, saying they were ready for a change, had come with him without argument.
At Ericca’s suggestion, Jordon had designed two-man fighters for this burgeoning space corps. The small, short-range craft were created specifically with the Saigus asteroids in mind. The Reliant A.I. had replicated herself to assist the new ship’s pilots. With her abilities back in play, there was little worry this kid pilots would wreck on the rocks.
Riley saw teaching these youngsters as a job well suited to Ericca’s abilities. And for the first time since they lost their parents, both felt as if they truly belonged someplace. Rhone was his home now; his and his new wife, Darsea’s. Ericca’s too. It was good to see her spending time with Jordon as well. She and he were often seen together in the marketplace, in this restaurant or that, joking and laughing and just being together to share Rhone’s many wonders. Ericca had even managed to get Jordon into a power glider to sail the Rhone skies. Where they becoming an item? Who knew? But they were becoming close friends, and Ericca needed all the friends she could get; folks who weren’t laying claim to her or pushing her or pulling at her or tricking her or arresting her or any of the stuff people had done to her since Los Dabaron.
Presently, Ericca smiled at him. It was a good smile. A relaxed smile offered by someone finally comfortable with her surroundings. With his sister now surrounded by her friends, both old and new, Riley looked to the future with expectation.
Look out Galaxy, he thought, here she comes.
Living in Freefall (Living on the Run Book 1) Page 30