“My love. My Rachel,” he said, cradling her like a baby, as they let the water flow down their backs, in complete bliss.
Mason and Dr. Baines went to his appointment later at the Earth Command Central hospital, for an upgrade of his implants. His sensory implants in his brain and his spinal implants were to be replaced with enhanced, upgraded implants today, and he was nervous. “I’m leaving for a week’s vacation tomorrow, Dr. Brandt. How long will it take me to adjust to these implants?” Mason asked his neurosurgeon.
“The procedure will take longer than your period of adjustment, actually. The implants’ internal components are being replaced, not their housing. If the entire implant with its housing were being replaced, you would be hospitalized for at least 3, perhaps 5 days, to allow for reweaving of the nerves, spinal and brain tissues,” she explained.
Mason went into his room and was prepped for neuro-microsurgery. Dr. Baines went to the observation theatre above the operating room to watch. He was wheeled in, already sedated, as Dr. Brandt and her surgery team waited.
Dr. Brandt operated the microsurgery tools via the robotic surgery device on her overhead controller, deftly making the tiny incisions with her laser. The side brain implants were so small, barely ½ centimeter long, yet they contained the microprocessors and other components to enhance Mason’s sense of smell and hearing. Those were replaced first, on either side of his head. The entry incisions were sealed by another healing laser, a different colored light that worked in tandem with the bone gel dabbed onto the incision site. As it spread over the incision, the laser burned the gel into his skull, forming a tight seal, and becoming part of his skull as it cooled.
The implants on the top and back of his skull for enhanced intuition, sight, and ESP were three times as large as the side implants, and were replaced in a similar manner. Mason was repositioned from a reclining position to lie flat on his stomach for the next procedure. One by one, Dr. Brandt replaced each of the five 1.5 cm implants along his spine: cerebral cortex, upper back, thoracic, mid-back and lower back. Those enhanced his internal organs’ ability to regenerate new cells, effectively improving their performance under deep-space conditions of sustained low gravity, cryonic hibernation, and artificial breathing air. They also helped his body wounds heal faster with their regeneration properties.
The entire procedure took just over four hours to complete. After another hour in recovery, Mason was beginning to awaken. “John, can you hear me? Come to me, John. Open your eyes now, and look at me. Come back to me, John. There you are,” Dr. Baines softly said to him.
“You are so beautiful,” he said, looking at her smiling face. When he awoke more fully, Mason smiled at her. “This is how we started, remember? You calling me to wake up and come back to you, so long ago,” he said to her.
“Yes, I remember, and that’s why I’m here. I’m here with you now, John.” She held his hand tenderly and watched him awaken from the sedative’s effect. She stood next to his bed and talked with him softly, and made certain he was recovering from his procedure. She pulled the body scanner down over him, and read the scanner’s indicators and visual results.
“Do you miss your former career, Dr. Baines?” Dr. Brandt asked her as she walked up to Mason’s bed.
“Not really, Dr. Brandt. But I was this man’s nurse for seven years, and now I am his genetics specialist,” Dr. Baines answered, smiling, and looking at Mason.
“I’ll just take a look at you myself, and make sure all your new components are working properly, and your skull incisions are sealed completely,” she said, and walked around looking at the scanner for several minutes, making adjustments as she went. “Your spinal implant incisions were sealed with plasti-skin, and are completely sealed, as are your skull incisions. Very nice. No swimming for a couple of days, all right? We want to make sure your new components don’t get wet, you understand.”
Mason got out of bed, slowly stood and walked around his room. “Can I leave now, Doctor?” Mason asked.
“If you can touch your toes for me, and stand up without being dizzy,” she said. Mason touched his toes and stood up. “Any dizziness, disorientation, or nausea?”
“I feel a little sick to my sto…” Mason ran into his bathroom and retched violently.
“He’s always had a weak stomach,” Dr. Baines commented.
“This will help you out, Marine,” Dr. Brandt said, giving his IV line an injection from its controller. “You just bought yourself another hour in here, I’m afraid. No strenuous activity tonight. Come see me in two weeks. Call me 24/7 if any problems develop, redness or swelling at an implant site.” Mason nodded, and Dr. Brandt left his room.
They left after an hour and went to her home to relax. Mason lay on the couch and Rachel put a pillow under his head on her lap. She lightly put her arm on his chest, stroking his stomach to keep him calm. “Do you feel any different with your new implants, John?”
He touched the one on top of his head. “This one is definitely more active than my old one. I’m getting more visual images inside my head; multi-colored; sharper and more clarified than before,” he answered with his eyes closed.
Rachel gently parted his hair at the incision site; no redness or swelling. “It may take a couple of days to adjust to it. Let’s take it easy tonight.” Mason slowly fell asleep on her lap, as Rachel gently stroked him. My Prime Marine, she thought to herself, smiling. They went to bed early, holding each other as they slept. In the morning, Rachel awoke before John, and started checking out his new implant sites, and they were infection-free. She looked at the battle scars on his back, over half of them helped to heal by her during their time on the Hesperia.
Rachel noticed unusual “cross hatching” types of marks inside his buttocks, where his torturers attached the electrical clips to shock him. She shuttered to think of the excruciating pain he endured for so long. Mason rolled over in his sleep. She looked more closely at his nipples. The left one was nearly cleaved in two from the electrodes’ clips.
His navel was surrounded by the cross hatch marks burned into his skin. She lightly touched them. She rose up to look at his scrotum, and John awoke. He looked at her, and knew what she was doing. He raised his penis up to show her his scarred testicles, then pulled up his scrotum to show her the deep black scars underneath. Her eyes welled with tears. He reached for her and she lay in his arms, softly crying for him.
“It’s all right. It’s over,” Mason soothed her, stroking her back. “Today we go to paradise.” They made love side by side slowly, with emotion and intense passion.
Afterwards, Mason sat up in bed, and looked around her bedroom. “Have you packed, Rachel? The transport leaves at 2:15, so we have to be on the platform by 2.”
“What transport?” She asked, still in the afterglow of her orgasm.
“We’re going on vacation today. Remember? I’m taking you to paradise,” he said.
“You delivered on that promise,” she whispered, cuddling next to him. “Several times.”
“I’m serious, now. You’ve got to pack for our vacation, Rachel,” he insisted. He headed for the guest room shower.
“I didn’t think you meant we were actually going somewhere,” she admitted. “I’ll have to tell the Baines!” She jumped up and went into her shower, suddenly very excited, as she cleaned up and got dressed. “What clothes do I take, John?”
“You know, resort wear. Some casual beach stuff. Three, maybe four night’s fine dining. Fun clothes,” he said as he shaved. “Clothes for seven days: three dresses, hiking boots, swim suits, and shorts.” He chuckled. “You’ve traveled throughout the solar system, Rachel. This is a piece of cake.”
Well, he was right about that. Seven days. No problem. She packed her biggest suitcase with enough clothes for two weeks and shut it. Shoes. She forgot shoes.
“I’m the Samba Master, Samba Master, Samba Master,” Mason was chanting rhythmically, dancing around the living room alone. “Time to call for a cab,
Rachel.”
“I have to call the Baines’ first,” she insisted. She told them about their trip, and asked if they could take care of her son an extra day or so.
“Absolutely, Rachel. He’s got enough clothes and toys here for a month. We have your keys if we need anything else. Have a great time!” Amanda said, smiling at her.
They said good-bye to Victor, and he brought out her suitcase for her. “I’m the Samba Master, Samba Master, Samba Master. I’m the Samba Master; you’re my Samba Queen!” Mason said, and kissed her. She laughed with pure joy. This would be a fun week.
X
Titan One was the second largest space station in the solar system, and was a very profitable cost center for the URE. Second in size and services only to Moon Base, it was both a space base and a space station. Regular space patrols were stationed at Titan One, both Space Forces and Space Marines, to keep order in the sector, and insure safe passage for all vessels.
Located between Saturn and Mars, Titan One was glorious, her brilliant design lighting up the sector for a thousand kilometers. It was designed like a giant spoke wheel, with a huge inner hub. Most ships made at least a cursory stop at Titan One for last minute checks, refueling, restocking, and repairs before continuing on their journeys.
When the Esmeralda stopped at Titan One, the space station was a hub of commercial activity, with dozens of restaurants and bars, shops, and entertainment centers, open 24/7. There were three hotels in service, scaled from basic to moderate to high end. Since commercial, merchant, and private vessels all stopped at Titan One, in addition to almost all Space Forces vessels, the services offered were extraordinary. Everything from fine dining to burger joints existed profitably. Cheap tourist trinkets could be purchased in some of the more affordable souvenir shops, while higher-end gifts and gems were sold down the same shopping corridor.
A little more than a year later, Titan One was nearly a ghost station. Only the military and medical personnel remained. All but a handful of the shops closed down. The bars and restaurants were locked and bolted shut. The franchised shop owners left in a hurry; what they could not carry or ship out on the very next transport with them was left behind for the looters and scavengers. Several shop windows were broken out and boarded up, due to theft and vandalism.
The URE lost one of its primary profit centers when Titan One was abandoned by the civilian personnel. Titan One needed to be restored to her former glory and profitability, and soon. Its loss of status was a real black eye for the Joint Chiefs of Staff.
There was a great deal of speculation as to why the civilian businesses and personnel abandoned Titan One in such a hurry. The scuttlebutt ran rampant throughout the commercial and merchant fleets; everything from a deadly new virus to hostile rebel forces taking over the space station was blamed. Earth Command received regular reports from the Space Forces crews stationed on Titan One, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. But those civilians who escaped told a very different story.
The space station military officers “changed.” According to the civilians who previously owned the franchises for their businesses there, the military officers and crewmen no longer frequented their establishments, or any non-military place on the space station, for that matter. Private vessels reported being denied docking privileges. The officers and crew were fewer and fewer in number, and began keeping to themselves. Their faces were changing, and they grew thin and gaunt, impatient and rude with any civilian having the audacity to speak with them. It became a nightmare for the civilians, and they left.
It was blatantly obvious the ONE had control of Titan One, when Earth Command looked at the situation in retrospect. All officers wore the tell-tale turtlenecks, and ordered all crewmen to wear them. It became the primary center for human alteration and transformation in the solar system. Its auxiliary prison staff worked day and night, beating and torturing their prisoners.
The documented experiences of the Esmeralda’s Captain Hanson, bridge officers, and Prime Marine Mason, as well as the testimony of captured traitors Captain Lee and Colonel Green from the Alexandria, provided all the proof the Joint Chiefs needed to know the ONE now controlled Titan One. A full-on assault would prove too damaging to the space station infrastructure. Captain Lee assured his Space Forces captors the ONE would self-destruct the multi-trillion dollar space station to keep their newest “agents” from capture. The ONE cared little for the preservation of infrastructure, and even less about the humans they deemed as “unworthy,” not good enough for transformation into reptilian hybrids for their colonization purposes.
The Joint Chiefs developed a special operations plan to insert a small force of highly trained Space Marines into Titan One, to attempt the recovery of the space station. A special team was assembled, to be led by an officer with previous experience serving on Titan One, to retake the space station. The Joint Chiefs knew the military personnel on Titan One turned traitor and were expecting a large-scale attack from a Space Forces’ battle cruiser group. A small team had a better chance to take over the space station with less infrastructure damage: “expendable assets.” The selection of the team leader became paramount. The Joint Chiefs wanted John Mason.
Mason got Rachel to the transport station on the outskirts of Houston with six minutes to spare. The big transport was already being loaded. He took her to the first class area, produced their tickets, and they boarded.
“First class, John? Aren’t you a Second Lieutenant?” She asked him, amazed at her ticket.
“Yes, I am. But don’t worry about it, Admiral Baines. Seven and a half months’ back pay and a hazard bonus for a Master Gunnery Sergeant go a long way, even for a first class vacation at a five star resort. I deserve this, and so do you!” He explained. He laughed, leaned over and kissed her. “Thank you for coming with me, Rachel.”
“You still haven’t told me where we’re going,” she said impatiently.
“You’ll find out in two minutes.”
The engines started up, and the transport rose above Houston, then moved south. Then came the announcement: “Good evening. Welcome aboard flight 1617 to San Jose, Costa Rica.”
“Costa Rica! John, we’re going to Costa Rica?” She asked, excited.
“Yep. Ever been there, Rachel?”
“No. I’ve been on an eastern Caribbean cruise once, but not to Central America. I’m really excited!” She put her arms around his neck and kissed him. “Tell me about Costa Rica.”
He shared with her his family’s trip from Mexico City to Costa Rica when he was sixteen, the year before he enlisted in the Space Marines. “My parents were both alive then, and it was our last family trip. It was paradise. I loved every village and town we went to. We didn’t have much money, so Dad said we couldn’t afford to be tourists, we were travelers. I thought of Costa Rica so many times since then, and promised myself I’d go back.” They sipped champagne, and enjoyed the flight. The transport approached the landing field, and flew in over the gulf. It was still sunny and beautiful, with lots of daylight remaining.
The Mayan Paradise resort was architecturally stunning, all modern glass and metal, with Mayan-type stonework throughout. Their hotel limo shuttle brought them to the lobby, rich with brightly painted walls, live birds and plants. It was a feast for their eyes. Mason checked them in, and rented a safe deposit box. He put his small bag inside, and locked it up.
They took their private VIP elevator, away from the main lifts. Their suite was on the top floor, featuring full windows, opened to face the ocean. It was a magnificent view. A bottle of champagne was already chilled and waiting, along with a basket of fresh fruit and flowers.
“Oh, John, I’ve never dreamed of such a place as this! It’s exquisite! The suite is splendid, and the view is so perfect! If you were trying to impress me, you certainly succeeded. I love it!” Rachel exclaimed.
They quickly unpacked and walked to the lobby, and Mason stopped at the concierge desk. “I reserved a speedster for the wee
k; a new one, if you have it.” The steel beast was brought around for them by a valet.
“John, I’ve never been on a speedster before. I’m kind of scared of it, to be honest with you,” Rachel said, very timidly.
“Then we’ll take it nice and slow. All you have to do is hold on to me, and keep your feet on the pedals, all right?” He mounted it, and took her hand to help her get on it. “Step on the pedal here with your right foot, and swing your leg around. There you go!”
He started the beast, and she wrapped her arms tightly around his waist. “Are your eyes open, Rachel?”
“NO!” He laughed, and slowly it rose up off the brick pavement, as its antigravity mechanism activated.
“Are you looking yet?”
“NO!” Mason moved the speedster out slowly so she wouldn’t be too afraid, and took them down to the beach. He rode above the waves for a few kilometers, feeling the salt spray in his face. It was a good day.
“This is thrilling, John!” She exclaimed.
Mason gave her a tour of the coast, and then went up over an outcropping of rocks, where a Mayan observatory came into view. He sped up and took them into San Jose, and they entered the old city square with all the shops and cafes. They strolled around the quaint old town square, and Rachel found a nice clothing shop, where Mason bought her samba outfit.
Returning to their speedster, they stowed their packages in the side compartments, and continued their journey. Soon it began to get dark, so he flew faster to the hotel. Rachel was no longer afraid of the big speedster, and enjoyed the flight. They dressed for dinner at nine, ate fresh broiled fish caught that afternoon, and danced until well past midnight. It was a perfect day.
They spent the next morning poolside with Mason taking care not to get his implants wet. After pool time they went upstairs for a couple’s massage in their room. Rachel ordered a bottle of champagne, and they enjoyed it with their windows open to the delicious ocean breezes. They retired to bed early, in anticipation of the next day’s hiking adventure in the jungle.
Vengeance of Sukesh: John Mason (Legend of John Mason) Page 13