Salvation (Technopia Book 4)

by Greg Chase

  “Are you sure you know what you’re saying?” Spike asked. “Terrorism doesn’t require a lot of violence, but it does need enough acts to gain some attention. The original intended message is usually swept away by rhetoric and anxiety. The reputation we gain may not be the one you want.”

  She knew they couldn’t leave a section of the solar system so close to the Moons of Jupiter out of their equation. If they didn’t gain the support of the groups prone to violence, there was no way of knowing where, when, or how those pirates would enter the fray. But one thing was certain: in a conflict involving so much money and power, the hoodlums wouldn’t be sitting on the sidelines. “We’ll need to stay as secretive as possible regarding our true identities. If this all goes to hell, I don’t want the story connected to what we’re trying to build. If it works, we can combine the two legends into one.” And more than that if Sara can unite the Tobes.

  As Jess strolled beside Larry down the dimly lit walking paths of Hektor, she missed having Ramon’s protection. It wasn’t just the man’s standing in the community. His use of weapons was unmatched by anyone on Hidalgo. Larry was a good man and had experienced countless adventures around the solar system, but on an outpost where everyone carried a weapon, she wondered how well his skills would hold up. Her own abilities with sidearms sucked. If it came to a fight, her plan was to hit the ground and curl up in a ball, relying on the kozane’s scales to encase her like an armadillo.

  As the path ahead dipped down into the valley then circled Hektor, she wondered if anything about the small planet made sense. Its miniature moon appeared to dive down along the neck that separated the southern node on which they stood from the northern node where they were headed.

  Larry casually kept his hand close to his lasgun. “It helps if you don’t look up. I’ve been on this peanut of a planet before.” Apparently, he hadn’t shared all of his stories.

  “You didn’t think that was something worth mentioning before we landed here?”

  “It was a long time ago, before I worked for Sophie and Persephone. I was just a kid.”

  It didn’t seem to be a memory he wanted to share, but any information was better than walking blindly into a gang’s hideout. “Would there be anyone here who’d remember you?”

  “I doubt it. I wouldn’t have even remembered the visit if it hadn’t been for the strange shape of this planet.”

  As they approached the village, the craters began to fill with various types of craft with their cannons pointing outward, warning away the curious. Larry checked his weapon for what seemed like the tenth time since they’d landed.

  What the hell are we doing here? It wasn’t the first time Jess had wondered about their lack of a plan. They needed a better understanding of what they were up against, and there were still corners of the solar system, like this one, where information wasn’t shared over any network. Firsthand observation was the only answer, but what were they even looking for? “When Sam and I started this strange adventure, we were told to find a bar to make the first contact.”

  Larry caressed the butt of his lasgun. “It’s a well-used tactic. But when everyone’s quick to draw their weapons, I try to avoid places where people drink.”

  “Something to eat, then?” After that, Jess would be out of ideas.

  “I have a better thought.”

  Whatever Larry’s idea was, Jess couldn’t guess at it as he sauntered down the street, looking in each establishment. He finally stopped at the end of town in front of what looked like a used-clothing store. “Your kozane still needs mending, doesn’t it?”

  She’d have preferred to let people she trusted do the work, but there hadn’t been time on Hidalgo. “There are a few scorched scales, and the face shield is blackened.”

  “Good enough. The overall condition should work as our calling card. I just need someone who knows what he’s doing to see it.”

  Stepping into a room so congested with dusty, smelly space outfits was bad enough, but the idea of removing the main source of her protection gave Jess the shakes. He can’t be serious.

  An old man with skin so dry it looked like aged leather nodded at his new customers. “Help you find something?”

  Larry looked nonchalantly around the shop. “I’m looking to have some work done on my space leathers, and my lady needs some armor repaired.”

  The man stood from his rickety chair, a remnant from some destroyed space vessel from the look of the blast marks, and motioned them to a back room. “You can keep your weapons handy if it makes you feel better, but I’ll need a closer look at that kozane breast plate, your neck armor, and your pant leathers.”

  Larry took a seat in the corner of the room, his lasgun on his lap. “We’ll do this one at a time just to be sure we don’t get any surprises.”

  “As you wish.” The old man’s fingers looked more like bones covered in crumpled wax paper than the tools of a skilled tailor. But as he began undoing the hidden clasps of Jess’s kozane, she realized there was surprising strength left in his hands. The ripcord muscles of his forearms, barely visible under the loose-fitting sleeves of his smock, further attested to his talents as his arms worked around her neck to release the retracted helmet and face shield.

  He paid no attention to her figure as he removed the heavy shielding and laid it out on his workbench. With a quick flick of his spry fingers, he had the helmet fully opened, exposing its damaged face shield. His fingertips traced along the blast marks like a scholar reading a text in some forgotten language.

  The man pulled forth a set of micro-laser tools so old Jess wondered how they’d made their way so far from Earth. They belonged in a museum. She watched in wonder as the old hands worked the ancient tools to dislodge the damaged computer scales, repair them under the magnification lens that encompassed his ragged face, then delicately reconnect them with such precision she couldn’t tell they’d ever been tampered with. “You folks aren’t from around here.”

  Larry leaned his chair back against the wall as he kept hold of the weapon in his lap. “What makes you say that?”

  The sparse, snow-white hair that failed to hide the man’s speckled scalp cascaded around his shoulders as he nodded his understanding. “My skills as a tailor often forgive my curious mind. But then, you’re no more a fool than I. This garment could easily still function without the handful of damaged scales. Most who find my shop at least have the good sense to try and mask more obvious effects of battle. So I have to conclude you meant for me to see the las-rifle marks, just as you meant for me to notice the superior workmanship of the kozane itself. My guess is that should I actually inspect those leathers of yours, that I’d find the aftereffects of the same battle. And as with any tailor worth his salt, you’d expect me to know all the battles that have recently taken place in this section of the solar system. Whatever engagement created these scars would have been an epic battle, not one to go unnoticed.”

  Larry holstered his weapon. “Have you heard of such a battle?”

  The man’s shoulders barely moved the heavy smock as he shrugged. “Pirates are an odd combination of boisterous and secretive. But a gunship under the command of the Board of Shadows doesn’t get captured without notice.”

  Larry pulled out a roll of cash and tossed it on the table next to the armor. “And how would such information be received out here?”

  The man’s wily fingers quickly thumbed through the money before secreting it into his smock. “Depends on who’s telling the story. An old, trusted storekeeper might look favorably on a couple confronting the corporations’ dreaded secret board. Were he to tell the tale, I’m sure others would see his wisdom.”

  Larry pointed at the money hidden in the man’s work clothes. “There’s another pile like that for you should we make a favorable contact. We could use allies.”

  “Your business is your own. I’ve grown old keeping my nose out of things. But my customers are fond of a good story. Any pirate who knows what he’s doing would have
his ship hidden somewhere on the planet. If it suits you, feel free to move your craft closer to town. It’ll make it easier for guests to find you.”

  Jess could tell Spike was still fuming at being asked to move closer to human habitation. He swung his new cannons from side to side at the footpath below their new crater.

  “We’re here to meet someone, Spike, not blow them to smithereens.”

  The guns stopped their motion, though she doubted the same was true for the ship’s surveillance system.

  Larry didn’t seem much calmer than Spike as he cleaned his blaster. “He does have a point, Jess. If someone walks up to our ship, we won’t know if they want to talk or kill us. And even if they do want to talk, what would that be about? They’re not smugglers, so our contraband isn’t going to entice them. And if we don’t want to make a big deal of our capture of the gunship, I’m not sure what we have to offer.”

  What impresses thugs other than acts of violence? She didn’t have an answer. Of all the people in the solar system, these violence-prone, emotionally unstable hotheads had the least in common with her. How was she to win them over? She was about to give in and call the whole trip ill-advised when a man in a heavy, floor-length animal-skin coat approached their craft.

  Jess double-checked the latches on her kozane as Larry unholstered his lasgun. “If there’s shooting, stay low.”

  As they left the ship, Spike swung a rapid-fire las-cannon over their heads at the stranger. The man unbuckled his jacket, revealing so many weapons Jess lost count. Knives and guns hung from his vest like Christmas ornaments on a tree. “My name’s Dagwood Voss, and I mean you no harm.” His voice boomed across the crater.

  “Nor we you.” Larry kept his lasgun lowered but didn’t put it back in its holster.

  “I heard from a mutual friend you might be looking for adventure. As I happen to be without a ship, I thought I might offer you my services. Through my contacts, I can locate corporate transports worth pursuing and venues where we might barter the proceeds.”

  Being a pirate meant at some point Jess would have to accept the unsavory activity of stealing. She’d rationalized that she could do it provided the victims could afford the loss and she didn’t personally profit from the endeavor. Of course, others—such as their guest—would expect some form of compensation. That was just something she’d have to live with. “And what would your take be for these services?”

  The muscular man looked at Jess, Larry, and the ship. “There’s you two and I’d guess a Tobe to run the ship. Call it one share apiece plus an additional share for the ship’s overhead—that’d make five shares total. Could you live with twenty percent?”

  Jess was already working out where and how she could distribute her twenty percent among the less fortunate or use it to fund their revolt.

  9

  Arry stood in front of Sara in only her white dress—the diaphanous fabric now fully opaque—looking exactly like a bride on her wedding day. The congregation stood in respect, each one fully nude.

  This is going to be a long day. Sara scanned the room for Henry. Somewhere, in some hidden recess, he’d be keeping watch. But as far as the crowd was concerned, the reverend mother would be the first one freed from corporate oppression. If anyone asked, or found out, about Henry, she’d say he was just the entertainment for the bachelorette party. But Sara knew she couldn’t let the proverbial stripper from the night before into the wedding chapel.

  Her skin glowed under the black cape from the solar energy being pumped to her. This film better hold up. She did her best to conceal her anxiety.

  Arry quivered like a nervous virgin. “You’re not to take full control of me. This is just a sex act, nothing more—just for show.”

  Sara didn’t owe her an explanation. Gods seldom bothered with such mundane rationalizations, but Arry’s fear was intoxicating. Sara moved in such a way that their conversation would be seen by the crowd but not heard—but only if Arry chose to keep it private. “I will take you fully and completely—sexually, emotionally, and spiritually. To do otherwise would be to leave a piece of you behind. It’s all or nothing. Freedom doesn’t work halfway.”

  The congregation would notice their Reverend Mother shying away from their god. “We agreed you’re not to remove my scars. I won’t accept the salvation your father offered.”

  “I never condemned you, so there’s no forgiveness needed. Keep your scars if you like. What I’ll be doing to you is far more personal. And your delaying of the event is only going to strike fear in your followers. Each and every one will have to stand where you are now and accept my dominance over them.” Sara’s eyes blazed at the collar of Arry’s dress. “Now, strip.”

  Arry could have just evaporated the gown. It had no substance, after all. But the act of untying the loop at the neck, of loosening the strings, of pulling her shoulders out of the enlarged opening then exposing her breasts, her stomach, her pubic hair and finally standing naked and afraid before her deity made for a damn nice show. Her arms hugged her sides as the garment around her ankles faded away.

  Henry had been willing, even eager for the experience, but nothing about this activity appeared to inspire anything but fear in the reverend mother. The familiar lusts of dominance swept through Sara as she saw her nemesis’s naked submission.

  The black cape, her only clothing after Henry had so savagely ripped away her one-piece cat suit, fell from Sara’s shoulders. But hers was not an exposure of weakness. Arry’s firm breasts shivered under Sara’s touch, and her genitals closed tight to the probing fingers. Sara pressed her lips hard against the frightened woman as she forced her fingers up between the reverend mother’s legs. The reluctant acceptance by her computer-generated flesh released the dam of emotion Arry had kept locked down tight.

  Sara whispered in her ear, “You belong to me now, Arry. Never forget that. I can force these emotions from you any time I like.”

  Remnants of the cackled laugh from just a few days ago mixed with Arry’s screams of desire. The black, hateful energy slowly seeped away to be replaced by the sun’s light emanating from Sara’s fingers. She pulled out before the transformation had a chance to remove the woman’s scars. A reverend mother should be allowed certain dignities if she was expected to continue leading her congregation.

  Arry shook uncontrollably before Sara but made no attempt to get dressed. “You are my god, and I submit completely unto you.” She then turned to the congregation. “If you wish to remain loyal to me, step forward and receive god’s gift.”

  One after another, they stepped up onto the stage and gave themselves fully to Sara’s domination. She lost count of how many she freed from corporate control. But she gained an intimate knowledge of every one of her believers. And more importantly, so did Joshua back on Earth.

  Back in her makeshift accommodations, Sara acquiesced to Joshua’s demands for a talk. “Jesus Christ, I hope you’re not planning on doing that on every moon—or worse, expect that kind of relationship on Earth. The solar transfer array nearly blew a fuse.”

  “Don’t worry, Josh. You’re not my type.” All Sara really wanted to do was sleep. “But I can’t make any promises regarding the rest of Jupiter’s moons. The connection had to be personal, it had to be intense, and each one of them had to let go of all the bonds that held them to their masters. And I needed something strong enough to pull them into those potholes you described.”

  “I don’t like it—any of it—and neither will Jess or Emily. I’ll keep your secrets as always. But I don’t have to like your actions.” Unwilling acceptance was the most she could hope for from him.

  “It’s not like I forced anyone. So long as the sexual acts are consensual, the village would approve. Since that’s where we learned about sex in the first place, I have to conclude that you’re wrong about my mother and sister. But I will keep your concerns in mind.” The day had been far too long for worrying about tact with someone who should have been able to separate emotion from reas
on. “Any word on how Jess is doing?”

  Joshua settled back into his office chair. “None to speak of. There are stories—really nothing more than rumors as there’s no network corroboration—about a battle with a gunship. There’s also a growing legend of what I could only call a space-pirate version of Robin Hood, but those tales are even less believable than the first.”

  “I’ve still got too much to do before we coordinate our efforts, but if you get a chance, let her know I’m okay.” Sara blinked off of her connection to Earth. Her fingers ached. Her body had dominated the beings of pure energy in every way imaginable. She longed for a nice, hot soak in a luxurious tub. The best she’d be able to manage in the rundown office building would be a sponge bath—a sad anticlimax to the day’s events.

  Henry walked in, soaking wet. “I thought you might be a little drained after your day. I’ve managed to remodel the office next door into a spa, complete with sauna and whirlpool bath.”

  Sara bolted for the door so fast that if Henry had substance she’d have knocked him down. The room he’d created looked like a Roman bathhouse, complete with naked attendants. “How did you manage this?”

  “You have your ways, and I have mine.” Maybe he had more value than she’d given him credit for.

  She felt as though she’d melted into the hot bath water. Her attendants, a man and a woman whom she knew from the day’s events, rubbed her shoulders and feet. This is more like it. The film registered that the hands working her body were also busily inspecting the strange power that covered her skin—a familiarity she should have prevented. But it wasn’t the type of secret she’d be able to keep forever anyway.

  The splash of water to Sara’s face woke her up from the slumber she’d slipped into. Arry stood over her, once again fully decked out in her Reverend Mother robes. “So it’s a microthin garment, kind of like our control encapsulation but one you control. Clever. That’s how you’ve been able to survive out here and do your little parlor tricks.”