by Tal Turing
Certainly Petyr had spent plenty of time with her afterwards. And she with him. She with him. It was her deepest secret that she had infected him as well, although with a weak population; she could still not be sure if it had made any difference. But that was the beauty of her planning, the influence was not strong enough for him to realize it. Subtlety was a strength on to itself.
“Tell me something, Donnie,” she continued. “Why this person? I saw him earlier, heard him speak. Shouldn't we be aiming...higher? Why are we wasting...”
“Baby steps,” Donnie chided her. “Besides, this is the non-obvious way to move forward and I hate being obvious. Now let's go. That place fills up fast.”
Transom Dome had gone dark for the evening. Although the structure tended not to let light out, which is why it looked like fuzzy, dark shadows from the outside, still it was too great a chance for its residents to accept. Not that there was anything left on the planet with the ability to understand what was beneath; but if such creatures did exist, they were exactly the ones from with the domers wished to hide. They knew well the history of Maltiempo and what humans did to other humans in the following years.
Donnie brought Miriam to a popular corper pub, 'The Watercooler'. It was a place to meet other New Berlyners especially those from rival companies. Theirs was a social meeting with a business purpose. Her Doctor was supposed to attend as well but he pulled out at the last moment. Miriam was disappointed but she knew it was for the best; it was difficult to maintain the illusion that their relationship was platonic and with him absent, she could concentrate fully on her tasks.
The music was loud and the people were louder, laughing and debating and complaining their frustrations away. They met up with some of Donnie's personal friends and fellow Humantis officers, Gunnar and Brock. But Donnie had invited some family friends from Transom Industries as well.
In typical corper fashion, the members of the rival groups sat together on opposite sides of the table. It was an unwritten rule that it should begin that way.
“Has anyone here not scanned my AI?” Miriam's beautiful green eyes flashed at them only five minutes into the evening. She knew that men, for some reason, found her extra alluring when she was annoyed and so she made sure to look each of them in the eye.
Still, she was truly miffed. Donnie had introduced her, but these 'gentleman' had lost no time in querying her AI, fetching her company credentials including her rank and home office. She was sure, that upon seeing her, they had decided she was a hospie and were unable to keep from confirming their guess. How rude! Couldn't they simply ask her? She would have been happy to tell them that she was, indeed, a Humantis officer. But now they already knew it and worse, they knew she was a junior officer. The only positive was that now they all knew she was from Techview, the First domed city, the best and the brightest and she would use that to needle them.
“So what is there for a girl to do in New Berlyn?” she batted her long silver lashes, “I've haven't seen anything here but dingy domes, ugly laboratories and poorly decorated lounges. Do you have any nice stores? Or do you have to ship things from Techview?”
They laughed politely except the short, dark-haired man who suppressed a scowl. She rewarded him with a smile, she was pleased to know she had chosen a good retort. There were four officers from each company. The one who scowled was one of the Harilla brothers whose father was head of Transom operations in this cow town, so it was no surprise that somehow all his sons had high positions as well. Apparently, nepotism was one field where New Berlyn could best its big sister.
Donnie had told her that the Harilla and Cab families were old friends but an older man had come with the Harilla brothers. He was short, balding, with beady eyes and he was above them all: an executive and the head of Transom security. Why hadn't Donnie chosen him?
Miriam's laughter was like music as she tossed her purple streaked hair backwards, in the same motion leaning back, her large, firm breasts pushing further into the air as her back arched back. She did not need to count how many eyes dropped.
Donnie changed positions, crossing to the other side, so that he and the tall Harilla with the sandy hair could continue their inane argument. But otherwise, she tried to give the rest of them equal time.
“How long will you be with us, Miriam?” gushed Bradley.
As little as possible she thought to herself. “Oh, I don't know. I'll be here for a while, longer if I like it, I am so sure.”
“You aren't married? That is a a crime in itself,” purred the formally stern but now-happy Lysander Barrett, the executive.
“Not yet, Mr. Barrett, but give me some time,” she smiled.
“Oh, you can call me Ly,” he laughed.
Really? She thought. It was hard to believe anyone called him that.
The conversations continued but Miriam was easily able to handle the table, skillfully leaving one conversation and interjecting herself into another, finding out names, analyzing personalities and stowing away little pieces of information. She had been brilliant back in her village days before becoming a research asset hence going for long periods of time seeing no one at all, except the Doctor and the Bugs.
She noticed the first time Donnie initiated contact with the target; it seemed natural enough but the second time seemed forced and she slid her heeled foot under the table and pressed into him. She might be overly cautious as the liquor was flowing and some of the officers had even applied a recreational patch to their neck. But a quick check and she realized that one of them has stayed very sober and unaffected, but neither did he seem suspicious. She needed to draw any attention away from Donnie's attempts, futile as they might be.
Miriam also had kept her head clear, the med patch she had applied was inactive. And if she seemed extra happy and even giddy, it was the thrill of hunt, the excitement of seeing her audacious plan in motion, the satisfaction from knowing she was working everyone at the table. Although the Doctor might have reservations on her scheme, as it obviously would increase his power, the Bugs were okay with it. It had taken her two intense minutes of lobbying and showing them the results in order to sway them to her side. In this case, Petyr's absence helped her.
She caught the target's eye and saw his pupils react. She was sure his infection was growing, but only now would he be able to take her commands; and for that, she needed to have him alone.
At that moment, the elder Harilla brother was savaging the reputation of Techview. She could use that.
“...just like the ancient Romans, that type of megalomania led to inbreeding and...”
“Have you ever even been to Techview?” she snarled, her sensual, full lips quivered with manufactured anger. “I knew it. Now, excuse me while I powder my nose...if this barn has a clean rest room.”
Her metallic skirt swished as she alighted from the table with the grace and ease of a dancer and her heels clipped lightly as she walked away. She took only a couple minutes waiting in the rest room, staring in the mirror, while her AI removed the purple highlights and replaced them with gold, less audacious, more conservative. She judged he would need a couple minutes to leave the table, so she took some extra time and then returned to the hallway.
When she saw him walking up the hallway towards her, she couldn't suppress the smile. Was she really this good? Or was life just too easy sometimes? She decided it was the latter. She was always a practical girl, even if she looked like a doll.
“Don't I know you?” she purred.
“I wanted to apologize...Steve didn't mean anything...”
Such a gentleman. But there was no time, she needed to strengthen her virals within him, to make sure they could handle those of Donnie. She brushed by him, her slender fingers brushing his hand, one nail tracing a line, leaving ruptured skin cells in its wake and depositing another sample of the colony.
Her perfume and fragrance wafting into his space as well, entering through his nose. He would not need much. Now, she needed to give him the com
mand. He followed quickly and she spoke softly and distinctly.
The man Donnie is the key. You must make him happy if we are to be together.
They had left the hall and entered the main room of the tavern and so she didn't look back at him to make sure he understood, she didn't want Donnie to suspect what she had done. They were now in visual sight of the table and one of his compatriots looked up at them. She walked toward that one.
“He's such a gentleman, to apologize and walk me back to the table. I never had a guy do that for me before. I might just settle down here!”
And everyone was delighted with the idea.
Donnie
Donnie Cabb applied a rough squeeze to the officer's neck. It was not the virals which were exuding through his sweat glands, Miriam told him they would leave in his mouth, so he must really be nervous about this. But who wouldn't be? It was something he had done before, that he enjoyed...but never with someone he knew. He had run the idea by Miriam and she had told him to go ahead.
“Besides, you want proof that Peithonova works? Certainly he would never allow it if he weren't under your control, right? Just do not try to break his family loyalties yet. It will be a couple days before you can broach those.”
He looked into the other man's face and saw both confusion but also resignation and suddenly Donnie was reassured that this was really working, that it would work.
But then he was unsure again. The two had known each other since they were boys, perhaps it was the wrong choice. But then he thought about something Miriam said. That he should remember the years of jokes that this man and his family at leveled at Donnie and at his company, jesting about the size of their company, their lack of a dome. He had laughed but it wasn't funny. He has known the humiliation of being a member of a small company even while his friends advance in prestigious ones. Only the strong survive. The bold win the day. His strength returned and he pushed the other into the corner.
If it was up to him, he would have chosen a smaller, thinner male partner. But gratification was not the point here. He needed to spread his virals further in this subject and get the proof he needs. He dropped his trousers and then, annoyed at the other, shoved his down as well.
There was some resistance but nothing significant and Donnie was on him and then in him. He didn't want their absence to be noticed so he rushed it, making the act more violent and, surprisingly, more satisfying.
Donnie's virals jumped onto the man from multiple directions. From his hands, from his chest, from his penis and mouth. But almost as quickly as the things could inhabit their new home, they expired, killed off by the more powerful colony which had a full day to establish and which had recently been reinforced. It wasn't even a fair contest.
Ryk
Ryk could feel his patience waning. Incredibly, the man was still talking and every attempt Ryk made to ask about Miri seemed to only perpetuate his babble, but at least now, finally, he was speaking about her rather than himself.
“She told me, then you are the uncle, the swamp farmer?” the man asked with a smirk. “Yes, Miriam has spoken about you and the disgusting bogs you both bathed in. You know, she really seems to feel her childhood ordeal has somehow made her a better lab tech. She insists on it, no matter how many times I tell her that it is the faithful implementation of my instructions...”
“May I see her?” Ryk tried to hide any signs of impatience or disinterest and he fought every impulse to break down in front of this man, to tell him how it felt to lose his beloved niece, to learn that her own family, his family, had attempted to kill her, and then, when he thought he would never hear from her again, to get this message from her. He had traveled since then, first to the Techview Domes and now to New Berlyn, to find her. And to help.
“She told me she had sent for you,” the man observed, pinching the tip of the left side of his mustache as he spoke, “but I thought you were to tend to our child? Why are you here?”
And for the first time, the man stopped talking and looked at Ryk with amused eyes. Our child? He was the father? So this was the Doctor?
“As you know, “ Ryk began, reciting his planned speech, “the child is safe within its fetal development chamber and the amount of monitoring and care administered by the facility you chose is extraordinary. I have reviewed and checked all I could and find that nothing has been left to chance. So as they will keep it for another six months at least...” Ryk stopped and looked to see if the man was satisfied, but he was still waiting. So Ryk continued.
“You must understand, I have not seen Miri in more than a year; for a long time I thought she might be dead. I am here to help her in any way possible...she's family, Doctor, surely you understand?”
“Family?” the Doctor guffawed. “Ryk, the last time she received a visit from a family member, he brought the largest knife I had ever seen. I had only seen such a thing in scavenger shops and old entertainment clips.”
Ryk was both relieved and puzzled, relieved that this man seemed to really care about Miri's welfare but why was he so calm, so unconcerned about such a thing? At least it solidified what they all had thought: that Mirk had tried to kill his own sister, an honor killing.
“The brother, yes,” Ryk muttered as, suddenly weak, he took a chair opposite Petyr. It had been almost forty minutes since he had arrived and no chair had been offered, but now he needed one. “Thank god he failed, I can promise you that after they saw what had become of him, none of them have the stomach to ever try something like that again.” Ryk hoped his subtle praise would work in his favor and the man did seem pleased.
“Yes, exactly as we planned, Ryk. And I must admit that while certainly a competent medical technician, under my instruction, I have learned that Miriam can be quite clever and resourceful when she has the mind for it, and loyal as well. I do not question her when it comes to decisions involving our child or her request to bring you into our circle.”
Ryk was relieved, almost overwhelmed and he felt a tear form in his eye.
“I do not doubt you for a second, Doctor, she is a most...”
At that moment, Petyr and Ryk were interrupted by a tall, leggy, young woman who slipped into the room so quickly that the Doctor did not notice until he saw Ryk look past him and start to rise.
Her hair was long and lustrous, a red bow tied within, framing a bronzed face, brilliant green eyes and pouty, pink lips around impossibly white teeth. A crimson and white striped skirt clung to her impossibly firm and sharp curves. Her matching heels, sparkled and clicked against the floor as she entered, her eyes surveying the room and both men as if deciding where she should stand.
“Don't you recognize me?” she threw a sudden, dazzling smile at Ryk even as her long, thin arm slipped to the couch, near where the Doctor sat. As she spoke, he could see the small mole near her mouth.
“Of course I recognize you, even over the new clothes and hair.” Ryk spoke, checked by her unusually calm response upon seeing him for the first time in more than a year.
Miri turned, leaned over and planted a quick kiss on the Doctor's hand before turning back to him.
“Oh Uncle, you know that more has changed than just some hair coloring!” she smiled but did not approach.
Of course it was true. Miriam had always been attractive, the envy of the other girls and the desire of the village boys; but the creature that stood in front of him now was on a different level, like a corper advertisement, a computer generation of a woman. Still, there were those same bewitching green eyes, the smile and that mole, he would have known her anyway.
“I am just so glad that you are okay, Miri. You look well and happy and that is all I care about,” he said quickly, fighting the impulse to let her see how worried he had been. And still was. “And I went over that incubator with a fine tooth comb, I checked everything they would let me check and called every inspector possible. They are taking perfect care of your child.”
Ryk said those words while looking at Miri but quickly loo
ked back over at Petyr as if reassuring them both.
Miriam looked over at the Doctor.
“See? I told you he would be perfect and completely trustworthy. He will be ideal to help us with our work and his timing is perfect as I am so busy handling our new friends in New Berlyn. And you don't even have to pay him. He is family.”
She looked back at Ryk with an approving glance but there was something else in her eyes, a rigidity he did not recognize.
“Of course, my dear”, Petyr purred, his expression still amused still comfortable. “That actually solves some problems as I wish to replace the lab personnel with only those we can trust, a skeleton staff. I am bringing Sams in to do security, you remember Sams?”
“Of course, but my Uncle must be tired. I will show him to the guest room and then we must talk, Petyr.”
“For a short time, Miriam”, the Doctor responded, “and then I must be off.” He turned back to Ryk, “We will still pay you, Ryk, your niece is sometimes overly efficient and protective of my interests.”
“He does not need nor want our money, Petyr” Miriam insisted, “he came to help us, and I never doubted he would come.”
With that, the girl plucked Ryk's hand from where it hung and pulled him and his bag toward a room.
“You must rest and get your strength back. I will have work for you tomorrow,” she called back to him even as she led him into a small, but comfortable guest room. She dropped his bag into a chair and turned to appraise him.
“Do you remember when I was a girl? The way I would almost knock you over whenever you came to visit? Once I think I even frightened you, I was so quick!” she smiled.
“I do,” Ryk laughed but his eyes were melancholy. Time had gone by so fast, it seemed only yesterday he had returned from an appointment to find her in a weather suit scouring the bottom of a bog for an earring she had lost. 'It is the only one that matches my favorite dress!'.