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Home / Pete's stuff / Not computer games / Pete's Draka page / Donavan Barrett's "Yearnings"
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Intensive Psionics Ward
Our Lady of Mercy Hospital
Los Angeles, California
United States of America
Reality of NewHome
February 8, 2188 AD
Doctor Aliaroo Kalante sat at her desk nibbling at small pieces of raw meat while finishing her paperwork. The Celari yawned, showing rows of small sharp teeth. It had been a while since she had last slept and the psionic surgery she had performed today had left her far more tired than usual. A knock at the door startled her, making her drop a piece of meat. "C..come in," she said.
A human orderly in a blue-green smock came in, shutting the thin door behind him. "The reports you requested, Doc," he said with a slight smile. He glanced at the pile of bloody meat sitting on the bone white china plate. "Doc, that's disgusting. Especially in a hospital."
The alien humanoid fox/cat gave a yip of amusement. "Not half as disgusting as cooked meat. Hamburger ugh," she said in her reedy voice. "Now, shoo." The orderly smiled back as he exited the room, closing the door. Now, back to this case, she thought.
Until now, the Celari had been the first and so far only extraterrestrial race to contact NewHome. They had fled their own star system in generation ships more than a thousand years before when their star went nova. Discovering Earth had been a lucky break; it seemed that every other system was devoid of life. Distrustful at first, the humans had accepted the Celari into their communities when the Celari had given them the technology to heal their dying world. That had been more than a hundred years ago. Now the Celari were partners with the humans in almost every way possible. They had placed colonies on Mars and Luna and had begun to try to turn Jupiter into a star, using gravitics in an attempt to give the outer planets a jump-start on terraforming.
Then, five years ago, something truly strange happened. In a flash of green light, a spray of water and a very loud pop, three men, a woman and a very large humanoid bear appeared in downtown Berlin. Wearing pseudo-Nazi uniforms, they surrendered themselves to the local authorities and asked to see the community leaders. They told a fantastic story of alternate earths and could have been called liars, but the presence of the bear-like Kondarrian precluded that. A flurry of activity had occurred and the visitors were flown to New York to address the United Nations.
They claimed they were from an alternate Earth, they called it a divergent Reality, named Erde. Their history had differed from ours in the late nineteenth century and had mutated further. There had been no Second World War and now the world was divided between the Nationalsozialistische Deutsche Abeiterpartei Gemeindebehhrde (the GmbH), Imperial Japan and The Republic of Texas. Their nation, the GmbH, was investigating other Realities with the purpose of business relations in mind. They had even thoughtfully brought several items for the perusal of the joint Human/Celari world including cybercomputers and some magic trinkets that cleaned people better than any bath.
Arriving via a Gate between Realities, the GmbH representatives would be more than happy to arrange the purchase of several Gate engines if the joint Human/Celari government joined the UN of the Realities — The Storm League. Within three months NewHome had joined the Storm League and owned, for a modest fee, five Gate engines. NewHome had entered their interdimensional revolution.
One of the products of the revolution was in this hospital. Aliaroo picked up a file: Patient # 35 P; Althea Ventricorum de Argus. She was a Biofem from the Reality of Mechanon; an Earth of bio-engineered soldiers and cybernetics. Apparently their Reality had been invaded almost two hundred years ago by a psychic entity they called the Devil. To fight it they had placed themselves under the control of an artificially intelligent computer named Mechanon and bio-engineered themselves into soldiers. Men and women were separate species now; men were huge sterile apelike beings and served as the grunt soldiers, women had been made into officers to command the units of men and also functioned as reconnaissance units. Even after the Devil had been eradicated on their Reality, they searched all Realities for any sign of their bogeyman and hated and feared psionics with a passion. Celari, with their high psionic talents, were suspect as the Devil's collaborators.
Mechanon's world was sterile and regimented, a perfect environment for soldiers who lived, breathed, ate and slept the military, but there was no true social interaction. It would drive most people mad. On the other hand, Mechanese were often confused and overwhelmed by conventional society. Sometimes they went insane. That had happened to Althea.
Apparently Althea was a veteran of the last inter-Reality war, the Sidhe War, as a behind-the-lines scout and hunter. Most people from Mechanon didn't have last names. That had thrown Aliaroo for a while until she figured out that the additional names were a battle designation. A medal of sorts; the Heartsblood of Argus, but that hadn't brought her here. No, it was what happened after that had given her the trouble.
The poor girl, she thought before stopping herself. Althea was sixty-four years old, no matter that she looked eighteen or twenty. Hoo, they live a long time, she thought looking at the genetic codes. Close to human, but not quite, eight percent difference. That computer's one hell of a geneticist. She'll live to be three hundred or more barring accidents; like this one.
Althea had been transferred to the Storm League Security Forces on the Reality of Erde as part of a Mechanese social reform program. She'd apparently been unable to cope with the sudden change in cultures and went catatonic. She'd been shipped here last month when the GmbH psychiatrists had been unable to help.
Aliaroo closed the folder with a snap and turned her chair around to face an odd looking flat screen television. She pulled out a small touchpad keyboard and began tapping the keyboard with careful precision. Soon the screen lit up, the GmbH eagle clutching an iron cross appeared briefly before being replaced by a sign in German: Inter-Reality communications link being established. Considering that the GmbH had established the Storm League it was understandable that the lingua franca of the League was their own choppy, hard-edged dialect of German. The screen flashed twice before LINK ESTABLISHED ran across the screen then abruptly changed to black.
A man in the flat black uniform of the Storm League Security Forces slowly faded in. The inter-Reality communications gear of the hospital was first-rate, but it usually depended on the dimensional instabilities that incredibly bad weather caused. It's sunny here, they must be rerouting it through Thailand, she thought.
The human was in his early thirties, very white skin, close-cropped black hair atop a thin face; the look of a soldier. The plain gray walls of his office showed behind him, glow came from the ceiling; it was night where he was in Afrika. "Herr Doktor," he said in the GmbH dialect.
"Captain Hollis," Aliaroo responded in the same language.
"What about her? Can I get her back soon?" he said nervously.
Aliaroo leaned back in her chair. "Well, Captain, she was pretty bad off. Her mind tried to shut down completely. It was hard pulling her out of it."
He brightened. "She's all right then? When can I have her back?"
"Well…" she paused.
"'Well' what?!" he snapped.
Aliaroo flinched. These military types always gave her the jitters. "Did you know she was psionicly active?" she asked.
"No. What does that have to do with this?" he snapped.
Aliaroo sighed. "Apparently everything, Captain," she said peevishly. "She has an untrained talent: receptive telepathic clairvoyance."
"'Receptive telepathic clairvoyance'?" he said puzzled.
"She sees and hears people that aren't there. Sometimes she can talk to them, but no one else can see or hear them," Aliaroo clarified.
"Oh," he said blandly. "What did that do to her?"
"Well," Aliaroo began. "Psionics is suppressed on Mechanon because their bogey man the Devil uses psionics. She kept her talent submerged while she was around her people or fighting. When she transferred to your unit two months ago she relaxed and her ability turned on. She saw and heard people every waking moment and couldn't cope."
"I see…" he grumbled. "Did you fix it?"
Aliaroo made a grimace of distaste. "Yes, but I had to short circuit the psionic parts of her brain. Incredibly weird architecture in there, more like a computer than a human." She smiled foxishly. "Did you know she's a lesbian?"
He blushed. "No."
Of course you didn't know, Aliaroo mused. She had come across several of his clumsy attempts at seduction in Althea's memory. The beauty didn't quite know what to make of his advances and they had increased her downward spiral. You bastard, she thought and continued. "Cultural bias, no fertile men. Cloned society. Anyway, I fixed the problems and placed a few mental blocks. She should be fine, although I'd advise against subjecting her to any real mental trauma for a while. Adjustment should be faster now."
"Good," he looked relieved. "If it got out that someone in my command went crazy… It could have serious consequences on my career. I can't have that."
You weasel! "I'll send her back in a week or so. I want to observe her for awhile to make sure everything sticks. Oh, keep her away from any psionic Navigators. Hearing voices again could be detrimental to her health," she paused in thought. "I don't think that she wants to come back here."
"Yes, Doctor. Thank you," he cut the connection.
Aliaroo turned off her terminal. "Stupid military swaggering dick! He doesn't even give a shit about her, just his career," she snarled, baring her fangs and flattening her ears.
Althea sat on her hospital bed holding a pile of fluff that was once her pillow. She'd been kneading her claws on it because she was bored. Hospitals were boring; they stank of misery and fear too. I just want to go back to my unit.
She tossed the fluff into the air and slapped it full strength. Quarter inch fingernail claws popped out at the moment of impact to cleave the fluff in two. Boring, she thought as she lay back on her bed. I'm a biofem, she thought bitterly. I'm made for combat, not sitting idle. Memories floated back to her to ease the boredom.
2186. The smells and sights, animals moving through the thick verdant jungle. Colors of frogs and birds flashing by, sounds of monkeys and cries of parrots. Different sounds, human… no, elven voices. The mewling dialect of Chinese they spoke, laughter, scrapes of metal on metal. Her insectile power armor moved with her body like a second skin.
Powerful and quick, Mechanese power armor had been the best during the Sidhe War. Camouflage screens made it almost invisible to the naked eye, although a thermograph would give its general position away. Extra cybernetic eyes came online to scan the area as she moved through the underbrush. Four of them, remnants of the defeated Sidhe army; one probably a mage, their transport. They were cleaning stocky automatic rifles, GmbH issue, probably stolen.
She crept up close, scenting them as she went. Male, confident and magic. They don't know I'm here. In modern warfare surprise and speed are the best weapons. But, I like hands on work. She snuck up on the one at the edge of the clearing. The target stunk of magic. Lucky break, she thought. Experience had shown her that killing the mage would make this easier. No fireballs or lightning bolts in my back today!
Her arm shot out, green mottling on gray armor; sharp talons tore the head from his shoulders. A fountain of blood erupted from his corpse as it flopped about, a scent of copper and shit heavy in the air. Somersaulting, Althea flipped into the clearing, seven feet of grayish green insectile power armor. A clawed foot killed the next target with a roundhouse. More blood on her. Twisting lightning-quick she sighted the next target and tore its heart out.
Crack. Feeling the pain of impact, but not penetration, she lurched forward. One of the targets had managed to get off a shot. It had punctured her thinner back armor, but the slowed bullet had stopped when her skin had hardened in response to the kinetic energy. When she removed the armor later, her skin would be hard and brittle at the point of impact. A white star of armor that would flake away and be replaced with new skin in a day or so.
Flipping her body to stand on her left hand, Althea aimed her built in maser to fire at the last target. The smell of cooked meat filled the air as the microwave energy turned the water in his body to steam making him swell and explode like overripe fruit. MISSION COMPLETED flashed inside her head. Happiness flooded her. Missions have to be completed; it's my duty.
She was basking in her happy thoughts when Aliaroo walked in. Quickly, fear crowded into her musings. Althea's skin changed color to the tawny yellow, black spots and the white throat and torso of leopard patterning that it always did during times of high emotion, a legacy of her bioengineered heritage.
"Althea," Aliaroo said softly.
Althea had scrambled to the back of her bed. "Nein, nein," she whispered, her face expressionless. "You'll get back in my head, Devil spawn."
"Althea, you're being dramatic," Aliaroo said softly as she sat on the edge of the bed. "Come sit here." She patted a spot of the bed next to her.
"No!" Althea whined, backing into a corner, her face had started to show emotions. "You'll get back in my head. Change me."
Aliaroo sighed in frustration. "I'm getting you sent back to your unit on Friday. Would you like that?"
Althea looked up at the Celari. "Yes," she said in a small quiet voice.
"Good. Then sit next to me and we'll discuss it." Aliaroo said patting the bed again.
Althea moved slowly with more grace than any human or Celari that Aliaroo had ever seen. Warily, she sat next to the Celari, ready to run at a moment's notice. Amazing, Aliaroo thought. She could kill me without breaking a sweat, yet she's afraid of me.
Aliaroo looked at Althea, her skin still leopard patterned from fright. The woman was amazonian in appearance; six foot two, one hundred and ninety pounds, most of that dense bone. Hard muscle, like steel, moved under skin, slightly hidden by a very thin layer of fat used for food in times of need. Athletic, almost like a gymnast, but actually having breasts unlike the human gymnasts. Her pretty, almost girlish face was framed by long white hair that reflected lavender highlights, two slim, pointed elfish ears poked out from underneath it. Pretty for a human, Aliaroo thought. No wonder Hollis wanted her.
"Althea." She flinched when Aliaroo spoke. "Althea," Aliaroo said more softly. "I won't go into your mind anymore. There won't be any more voices or people that only you can see or hear, either." The five sessions that had fixed the "problem" had been horrible for both of them. Althea had had to be strapped down to a table, kicking and screaming throughout, while Aliaroo fought her minor psychic defenses, giving them both headaches.
"No more voices. No more people," Althea mumbled to herself in relief. "If… if they begin again?"
"I'll help you again," Aliaroo said patting Althea's hand.
Althea's leopard patterning became more distinct. Never! she thought. Before you crawl around in my head again, I'll kill you first!
Administration Building
Storm League Security Force Base 12 near Durenburgh
Gold Coast Province, Afrika
GmbH
Reality of Erde
12 December 2189, Erde Standard Calendar
The administration waiting room was quiet except for the constant humming of laser printers in the adjoining offices and the low murmur of people's voices. Lieutenant Althea Ventricorum de Argus sat in one of the three oak chairs that the room had to offer. Her long white hair had been gathered into a single thick braid that hung down her back. The regulation hairstyle allowed for short bangs and chin length tufts of hair that hung down in front of her now prominent elfin ears. Her black Security Forces uniform, a short sleeved shirt and pants combo with tie, had been freshly pressed and her rank insignia gleamed on the small collar.
She was still sitting straight up in the chair like she had been for the last fifteen minutes. Being a recon model, she could stay perfectly still in one place for hours if need be. However, her eyes disobeyed her and roamed the white walls. Pretty plain; a few maps of alternate earths and the symbol of the Storm League, a huge gray storm cloud over the Earth; she had a miniature one on her right shoulder patch. A few glow panels on the ceiling and the gray carpet at her feet. Althea closed her eyes, shutting out the boring scene. Why am I here? I haven't done anything wrong. The last time had been six months ago when a male had grabbed her bottom while she was in town. She had shot him in the hand with her pistol. The police and MP's had been extremely upset, but couldn't prosecute her because of the way the rape laws were worded.
A door to her right opened and a slim, young male in the SF uniform beckoned her. As he was leaving she rose and turned in one fluid motion, walking directly into the room. Captain Placek's office was full of knick knacks; spears from Devonal, an Anglian rifle, a sword from the Federacy, miniature steam tanks from Verne and an electric guitar from Union, holographic circuitry covering it. The desk was slightly larger than normal and was made out of the cheap foamed metal that the GmbH was fond of.
Captain Placek rose from behind his desk to return the salute that Althea was giving him. "At ease, Lieutenant de Argus," he said smiling. The man was in his middle forties, old for a Captain, graying hair over a very Slavic face and a stocky, well muscled body.
Althea went to parade rest, hands clasped behind her back and feet spread slightly apart.
"I said at ease," he smiled again, obviously strained.
"Yes, sir, " Althea said as she relaxed somewhat, although she still stood perfectly still.
God, they give me the creeps, he thought. The only difference between them and robots is the body. "Lieutenant de Argus, do you know why you're here?"
Althea was quiet for a second, then:" No Sir, I don't."
Placek sat back into his chair and began tapping at the miniature Vernian tanks. "You received a promotion to this office three weeks ago. Why didn't you accept?"
She paused in thought. "I didn't want the position, sir," she said blandly.
"Why?" he asked.
Althea began to sweat slightly. Why is he asking me all these questions? she thought. "Sir, I felt it better to stay in the field."
"So you gave up a promotion and a pay increase for the danger of the field?" he said incredulously.
Yes, that's exactly why. I'd die in here trapped with paper all day, she thought as she stood there silent.
He looked her up and down before he spoke. "You're sixty-five, correct?"
"Yes, sir."
"And you look like that?"
"I…" her skin began to change coloration. No, not now! "I have a projected life span of three hundred years."
"Oh," he replied flatly. "Do you want to be a lieutenant in the SF for the next two hundred and thirty five years? You will be if you keep refusing promotions! I had to claw my way up to this rank and they were willing to give it to you. The lost opportunity here is astounding!" he yelled. "I know you don't understand us very well, but let me tell you one thing. There will be no wars like the Sidhe War. You'll end up either as a very happy pencil pusher or as a low class dirt slogger checking on little lost ships." He stood up. "Do not let any promotion slip past you again. That's an order."
"Sir, may I speak freely?" Althea asked, her skin changing color with nervousness. He nodded. "Sir, I am a biofem recon unit. I was raised to die in battle with the Devil. That was the entire purpose of my life until recently. I am trying to adjust, but your society is just so different. Back home higher rank means more danger, permission to hunt in the forests, a small house outside the city/fortress walls.
"Everything here is so strange; the people, the smells, the sights. In a way it's very exciting, but it's too much at once," she paused and looked at him with her cold eyes. "And I don't understand this world's obsession with money."
"Well, first off. We don't have a super computer like Mechanon to run all of our needs here. People do it by hand. We like it like that. Here rank means responsibility, paperwork, administration, power," he said, a slight twinkle in his eye. "Money. Well, call it a national past time."
"Yes sir," Althea said, her face a mask of indifference.
"Good. Now that psychology is taken care of, I'm giving you some new duties. Take two days off then report to First Lieutenant Duran of the Interdiction and Rescue Division. There you will learn the specifics, but I believe you'll have more danger than you'll know what to do with." He saluted. "Dismissed."
After she returned the salute she asked, "Sir, what are the specific duties there?"
He looked up at her with a slight smile. "I believe to make sure aborigines don't gain access to Gate equipment or something. Go home, rest."
"Yes sir," Althea left the office, walking down the plain corridors past the bland secretaries giggling about love. Love, she thought. They say that leads to recreation. Recreation with a male, ugh, it just wasn't done on Mechanon. Her skin turned leopard spotted at the thought.
The jungle heat and humidity of the morning blasted at her as she opened the door. What to do. Two days off then transfer. Admittedly only to another building of the sprawling base, the huge pyramid-like building that houses the Gate. Happiness made her blush leopard spots again. Yes! I'll be able to hunt again. Only for lost people and the occasional fire fight with the Sidhe, but better than paperwork behind a desk. I might as well clean out my room, she thought as she walked along the asphalt roads flanked by palm trees.
Apparently someone in the GmbH two hundred years ago had gotten the silly idea to use the palm tree as the symbol for Afrika. This had resulted in the use of a lot of the skinny trees on all of the GmbH bases in Afrika sector. This base was, in fact, an old GmbH installation retrofitted for use by the Storm League. Large bunker type buildings were everywhere surrounded by small clumps of manicured grass and the ever-present palm trees.
Off in the distance a huge shadow loomed. The orbital ring held to the planet by twenty orbital elevators was a legacy of the one hundred years of peace on the planet. A peace sorely tested now by the fanatical Imperial Japanese. Oh, well. Not my fight.
"Hey, Lieutenant!" a loud feminine voice roared.
She turned around, putting her hand on her pistol in reflex. Only Sergeant Lightningclaw, she thought, relieved. The land dragoness considered herself Althea's best friend.
"Whoa, honey," the eight foot tall blue and green scaled dragoness said. "What're you riled about?" Her head bobbed, making the "hair" of red feathers move. She was dressed in the bland gray jumpsuit that technicians wore, modified for her long, thin tail with its spine ridges. A small green gate was on her left shoulder patch indicating that she worked on the interdimensional machinery.
"Nothing, Sergeant," Althea said as she took her hand off the pistol. "I've been transferred to the I/R Division because of my refusal to take the promotion of Captain."
"Desk job," Mallik chimed. "Boooring."
Althea blushed leopard again. "Yes, Sergeant, it is."
Mallik sidled up to Althea and clamped her right arm over Althea's shoulder. "I/R Divis, huh? We'll be working together. When do you transfer?"
Althea looked up at Mallik's large lavender eyes, pupils shrunk in the sunlight. The dragoness had always been nice to her, feeling a kindred spirit. Both were out of their environments, but Mallik had adjusted much better than she had. She said it was because she was a party animal, but Althea had never seen her attend any political rallies.
"Two days, Sergeant. I have to clear out my room tonight and tomorrow for the move."
"Where are you moving?" Mallik asked smiling, her huge teeth gleaming.
"I don't know yet, Sergeant. Maybe there's an order packet in my room."
Mallik let out a bellowing laugh making Althea's skin color change again. "No way! No offense, but these humans never do anything that intelligent. Tell you what, hon. I get off my shift in two hours. I'll be over to help you pack and we'll find a nice room."
"Uh… sure," Althea said, her skin changing to leopard spots quickly. Mallik walked away towards a building marked in the four number code that technicians used. Spinning on her heel, Althea never saw the wink or blown kiss the dragoness gave her.
Several hours later Althea sat dressed in only an oversized shirt on her small plain bed folding her freshly laundered clothes. Before Mallik had taught her, Althea had used the laundering service that the base provided, taking up most of her small salary. Mallik had put a stop to that. The dragoness hoarded almost everything, money most of all, and had almost died when she saw how Althea was "wasting" hers. The fact that money never really mattered to Althea had almost sent the poor dragoness into a conniption. Now, Althea had a nice savings account that Mallik oversaw.
Ever since the day that they had run into one another in a corridor two months after Althea's "vacation" on NewHome Mallik had been her tutor on the customs of Erde. Sometimes Mallik didn't understand the customs and just went through the motions, but Althea refused even that. If I can't understand the meaningless drivel, I won't even pay lip service to it. So what if it sometimes gives others the impression that I'm was cold or rude most of the time, I don't care. As long as I perform my duty I'm happy; that's what matters in the end anyway.
Honor and Duty, she thought bitterly. These unevolved apes couldn't understand. All that the humans of Erde talked about was profits and sex. Sex, sex, sex. They were obsessed with it. Recreation was encouraged on Mechanon, but only between biofems. Biomen, lacking genitalia, were somewhat useless as partners. Recreation once in a while was fine with her, but she could never be come obsessed with it like them.
She had recreated with other biofems quite frequently before her transfer, but not since. Over eighty percent of Erde's population was gay and Althea had had no end of propositions, but the females here were just too fragile. She had learned that when she had hurt a partner in bed by accident. Mallik was nice, but the feel of the warm-blooded reptile was too strange sometimes. Her body was much slimmer than a male dragon's and lacked breasts. The hard spinal ridges and her tail were awkward beneath the sheets; it sometimes flipped Althea out of the bed during an intimate moment. If Mallik didn't have such a strong personality I probably wouldn't have agreed to try in the first place. Even so it had taken Mallik several months to persuade her.
Althea blushed in embarrassment, spots forming on her cheeks and forehead. With a snap she folded another shirt and yet another one. This is easy. I wonder why we have robots doing this back home? A knock made her stop and pad silently to the door. Opening it she saw Mallik dressed in a soft brown leather shirt and pair of pants covered with beads and embroidery. She was leaning against the door jam with a small leather bag in her hand, smiling evilly.
"Can I come in, Hon?" Mallik said in the quiet, silky voice she used during these more personal meetings. Althea moved to one side and Mallik stepped in, pausing to bend slightly and rub her face against Althea's in a caress. She paused at the small kitchenette to put the black bag down on the counter; it clinked softly with a noise like metal on glass raising Althea's curiosity.
Mallik walked into the immaculate living/bedroom and pulled a chair out from under the small oak and white tile table; the reinforced one, without a back, to accommodate her tail. Retrieving some papers from her large cloth purse, Mallik placed them on the table. "Althea, come here."
Althea shut the door and walked over to the table, sitting on one of the other chairs and glanced at the papers. They were maps of rooms and housing request forms in German. Mallik put her right hand on Althea's leg and felt the warm hairlessness of it and the hard, almost woodlike feel of the underlying muscle. From experience, Mallik knew that Althea only had hair on her head and pubic area; it had a fine, almost furlike texture to it that the dragoness liked. At Mallik's touch Althea's skin broke out in spots again. Her face, however, remained expressionless.
"Where are these, Mallik?" Althea asked.
Mallik smiled. "Well, this one," she moved her hand to point. "Is in the Gate building itself." She pointed at the other one. "This one's a cottage about three Kay from the base proper. Take you less than three minutes to get dressed and over here in an emergency."
Althea studied the maps closely, noting that the cottage had two stories and stood alone in a copse of trees. The apartment, while smaller, offered the convenience of being near her duty station. Both were tempting. "Which on do you recommend, Mallik?"
"Hmmm," the dragoness said in thought and picked up the papers. After a moment she turned around the map of the apartment. "This one," she said tapping the paper, "is closer to the Gate, but has no private bath or kitchen. It's smaller than this one you're in now. Just a box really. These humans act like ants sometimes, I swear. Besides, you'd have to take baths with the other residents."
"I don't mind," Althea said. "We only had communal bathing on Mechanon."
"I mind," Mallik said possessively. "People looking at your body. Men wanting recreation with you." Althea flashed leopard again. "Wanting you to have their kids," Mallik said, putting down the paper. "But, this one," the dragoness continued, tapping the map of the cottage. "In addition to having its own bath and kitchen, has two stories and is fairly secluded, being surrounded by trees and all." Mallik smiled, batting her huge lavender eyes at Althea. "We could… Ah… use it to our benefit." Althea's leopard patterning had almost come in fully by now, but her face still wore no expression. "I love it when you do that, Muffin," Mallik said rising to walk over to the bed, hips and tail swaying. "Laundry, huh?" she asked as she held up a very utilitarian brassiere. "Yuck! Helga der nurse style. I'll fold this stuff for you while you decide, love." She sat down and began to carefully fold the clothes.
She's very nice, Althea thought. Why is it so hard for me to say it? She makes me feel funny, like I'm floating. She looked at the maps again. Duty could be served at either location, but… "Mallik?"
"Yes, hon."
"The cottage is fine."
Mallik smiled, her scales turning an electric blue. "Good, fill out the paperwork there and I'll file it for you after lunch. " She went back to the laundry humming a low, dragonish melody.
"Which one?" Althea asked holding up the forms.
"All of it. I didn't bring the application for the barracks room anyway." She blushed lighter, her voice turning silky. "Your leopard coloration looks lovely. Why don't you smile as well?"
"Smile?" Althea said as she filled out the paperwork.
"Yes, silly, smile. You're obviously very happy. Show it a little more. Smile. Laugh. Move with a bounce in your walk. Show the whole world you're happy, Althea. I promise that it won't hurt."
"I…" Oh, what the hell. I'm not on Mechanon anymore and I don't have anything to hide from her. She gave a small, very shy smile. I haven't done this since I was five, Althea thought, blushing, making her smile wider. The smile made her already pretty face radiant. Biofems were forbidden to show feelings. They were soldiers. Soldiers who felt emotions could falter or lose their objectives. Mallik had been trying to get her to express her feelings ever since they'd met.
Mallik's shocked visage looked at her back from the bed, making Althea smile more. She suppressed a giggle letting it out when Mallik strode across the room. "The Heartsblood of Argus laughs?" Mallik said in awe kneeling next to the biofem. She brought her short curved muzzle level with Althea's face.
Althea giggled uncontrollably. It feels so good, she thought. Why is it so wrong? She stopped slowly and wiped tears from her eyes.
"You alright, Hon?" Mallik said worriedly.
"Yes!" Althea almost yelled as she wrapped her arms around the dragoness in a hug almost crushing her with her strength, burying her face in Mallik's red feather hair. Mallik kneeled in stunned silence for a second then returned the hug with force.
"Muffin, I'm so proud of you. I know how hard it is for you to express yourself." She hugged Althea fiercely. Releasing her grip, Mallik pulled away to look at Althea's eyes.
Althea's heart began to pound. She's so nice. I… She smiled again shyly. "Mallik, you brought it out; be proud of yourself," she said in a quiet girlish voice.
"No. You had the obstacle to overcome, not I." Mallik bent to kiss the biofem, but Althea twisted out of her grip to run to the closet.
"I have something to show you first," Althea said as she reached the mirrored, sliding closet doors. Mechanon, I feel so good! This is better than recreation. Mallik followed after a few seconds. Opening the doors, Althea began to move the neat piles of uniforms and combat boots. After a moment she pulled out a large plastic box and set it on the gray carpeting of the room.
Mallik brought over her chair and sat down, curiosity in her face. What's this? she thought. She's never even let me in her closet before.
Althea undid the latches on the both sides of the box and the top cracked open with a small hiss. She lifted the lid off, placing it gently down next to the box. Kneeling, Althea reached into the box and pulled out a tiny figurine made out a white stonelike material and handed it to Mallik. It was very heavy. The figurine was of a Mechanese soldier in the curious organic insectile armor they favored. Crystalline blades protruded from the left arm while a cannon was mounted under the right. It was so lifelike, Mallik wouldn't have been surprised if it moved.
"What's this?" Mallik said in mild surprise as she turned the figuring over in her hands. "This is very detailed. Beautiful workmanship, better than a dwarf's." She looked at Althea who was sitting clutching her knees to her chest smiling broadly. "Do you collect these?" Mallik asked. Althea nodded. "Where do you get them?" she said enviously. Mallik hadn't seen anything of this quality even in her father's hoard.
"I make them," Althea said sheepishly. "But, I'm not very good at it yet."
Mallik looked at her and back to the figurine in shock. "R..really? This is impressive!" She handed the figurine back to Althea. "Do you have more?" Althea nodded, obviously very happy. "Can I see them?" she asked and Althea motioned at the box giving her leave.
Mallik bent over the box and pulled out eight more figurines and four vignettes made of out of the same material. They were of soldiers mostly; A bearlike Kondarrian in battle rage with his bolt action rifle stood next to a slim male elven officer in Sidhe battle dress with his sword and flintlock pistol.
The vignettes were of battle scenes with the same Mechanese soldier. One was of the soldier hiding in bushes while four Sidhe soldiers cleaned their weapons. It was beautiful, you could see each individual leaf on the bushes and the soldiers looked as if they would move at any moment. "What are they made of? It feels like stone, but it's not marble," Mallik asked.
"White jade," Althea said nonchalantly. "I used to use plastic, but this feels better to me."
Mallik's eyes widened in new respect and admiration. Jade was a hard medium to work with. Even her grandfather, who was a hundred fifty year old geezer, hadn't been able to properly use it. What lay in front of her was worth more than even her father owned, let alone the hoard she had accumulated in the twenty-eight years of her lifetime. "I never knew, Althea," Mallik whispered.
"You're the only one who does," Althea said as she quietly packed the sculptures back with care. I'm so happy, Althea thought. I feel so strange; light, like something's moving around in my heart. I wonder what this feeling's called. "Now, what did you bring in that bag," she asked as she placed the lid back on the box. "I'm curious."
Mallik smiled and walked over to the leather bag on the kitchenette counter. It made the same metal on glass sound as before as it was picked up and brought it over. "I was going to help you celebrate moving, but now today is even more special." She opened the sack and pulled out two silver goblets, handing one to Althea.
Althea accepted the goblet and looked at it. There were beautiful engravings of dragons on the sides; their ruby eyes penetrated her with their stare. Mallik pulled out a small bottle made out of irregular glass resembling pieces of ice melted together. "Dragon's Blood is what the elves call it," she said uncorking the bottle. A rich, spicy scent drifted through the air making Althea's nose tingle. "This was the only thing I was allowed to keep when my clan disowned me. My birthright."
Althea looked up from the goblet to look at Mallik's huge lavender eyes misted with tears. She had thought that Mallik was still part of her clan. Being disowned was the worst punishment for dragons. The clan was everything to her species. "I'm sorry, I didn't…" Althea stammered.
"You're the only one who does, love," Mallik quoted back and smiled as she poured a dark green liquid into Althea's goblet and then her own. Corking the bottle, Mallik clinked her goblet against Althea's. She sipped it delicately, closing her eyes as it went down. She motioned for Althea to do the same.
Lifting the goblet to her lips, Althea engaged the chemical analyzer that she'd been born with. Always a good idea to find out what you were putting in your body, she thought. Holding the slightly warm pleasant tasting liquid in her mouth Althea looked at the display that had come into existence in front of her vision. Being internal, only she would see it.
Blue and red symbols crawled across the air in the display indicating chemical compounds. Aphrodisiacs, alcohol and an unknown, probably magical substance. Nothing life threatening or too spicy. The oils in spicy foods tripped her stomach's defenses making her retch out whatever it was she had eaten. I don't want to do that in front of Mallik, she thought. She swallowed the Dragon's blood and felt a warmness come over her. Sipping more, her body began to tingle.
"Why were you disowned?" Althea asked.
Mallik smiled sadly. "For the love of another woman," she said wistfully. "My sister to be specific." She sighed sadly. "We were found out by father. I, being the eldest, was disowned. Veras was married to a brute of a man in the Ostianus Empire. She still has feelings for me and I for her."
Mallik went to the bed and placed her goblet on the small metal nightstand. She stood there facing away from Althea. "I joined the SF to get away from there. No one here cares if you're gay; it's normal." She sighed. "I'm just so happy that I found you." She began placing clothes in sacks in preparation for Althea's moving.
Standing, Althea felt strangely disoriented. Must be the magic, she thought as she walked behind Mallik and straddled her tail, letting the spinal ridges touch her area and excite her more. Mallik stopped packing at her touch and Althea ran her strong muscular hands up the dragoness' back under the soft leather shirt.
Velvet over steel, Mallik thought as she lost herself in the sensation. My little leopardess.
Reaching around front, Althea stroked Mallik's chest and belly feeling the soft skinlike scales there. She backed away letting Mallik turn around to face her. With slow care, Althea unbuttoned her large shirt, the only clothing she wore, letting it drop to the ground leaving her leopard-patterned body uncovered.
"Come here, Kitten," Mallik half growled, half purred. Althea fell into her arms, smiling.
Bungalow 84L
Storm League Security Forces Base 12 near Durenburgh
Gold Coast Province, Afrika
GmbH
Reality of Erde
16 March 2190, Erde Standard Calendar
Althea turned the music down as she dusted the house. It was Mist's Fire Eyes, one of Mallik's favorites. Picking up a large pair of shorts she smiled to herself. Mallik can be so messy at times. She had moved in two weeks after Althea had settled in, taking over easily. Althea had never really cared about how her places were decorated, finding beauty in her sculptures, but Mallik had insisted that they live in a pleasant environment.
Now, sturdy Bauhaus style furniture was placed just so around the ground level's living room and kitchen. Large black bookcases adorned the walls. Mallik was a voracious reader, mostly travel guides about other Realities. A large backless couch sat in the middle of the living room next to a metal and glass table and four tall, spindly lamps.
Humming, she picked up the rest of Mallik's clothing and placed it in the silver laundry hamper near the kitchen. Dishes were piled in the sink; the remnants of last night's dinner. Mallik was a wonderful cook, having taken over the duty after Althea had ruined several good meals. I'll do those dishes right before my shift, she thought. Mallik's had started four hours ago at oh seven hundred and Althea had to be at the Gate center at thirteen hundred, although in practice she was on call twenty-four hours a day.
Going to the kitchen table, Althea glanced at the half-formed sculpture of her and Mallik sitting there. Mallik was bending over to pet a lump that would become the cat that they had owned briefly. Althea had named it "Seven," but it had answered to "Fluffy" more often.
One night a black mamba had found its way into the house and the snake had bitten the cat. Althea had killed it with one of the monocrysteel swords that hung above their bed, but Seven had died an hour later, even with the antivenom. She had cried for the first time, while Mallik comforted her. A small grave out back was dug for the cat and Mallik insisted on placing flowers on it every week.
She looked around the room; the black carpet would need cleaning next week. My hair's all over it, she thought, disgusted. Should've gotten gray carpet ins…
A huge gravitic wave passed over her making her teeth hurt. The sound of an explosion followed, a loud bang followed by a dull roaring. Devil! she cursed. The Gate!! Oh, Lord Mechanon, protect Mallik!
Triggering the autodial system, she tried the Gate Center. No answer. Damn! She dialed the auxiliary number. Ah, connect! A picture appeared floating over the couch; a black furred humanocat in a gray technician's uniform looked back at her. Green fires flickered in the background. Ataru Kozdrey, Mallik's coworker, her memory flashed. "Arty, what happened!" Althea almost yelled.
"Uh… I…" he stammered in shock.
"Damn you! Get a grip Arty!" she yelled, snapping him back to reality.
"Althea," he said as recognition hit him. "Oh scheiße. Everything's fucked up here, Lieutenant. The Gate malfunctioned and… Oh God. Just get over here please…"
Althea cut the line with a swipe of her hand and fluidly leapt over the couch running to the door and almost tearing it off the hinges as she flung it open. Dashing out onto the gravel path, Althea jumped onto her grav bike. The roar was much louder now and the sound shook her.
Flipping open the control panels on the bike, Althea pulled out the control cables, tapping her wrist to bring out her control jacks. She savagely shoved the cables in and felt the slight falling sensation she always did when she jacked in. Graphics came into her vision as she willed the engines to life.
Throttling full power to the drive, the bike shot above the tree line and made a beeline towards the pyramid shaped Gate Center. A huge pillar of green energy and flame shot into the sky; the source of the noise. As Althea shot over the three kilometers between her and the center the pillar faltered, then died abruptly. Landing the bike, she practically tore out the plugs letting the bike skitter about before coming to rest against a wall.
Inside, there was smoke everywhere, green fires licked at the foamed concrete walls where electronics panels had been. A technician staggered towards her, covering his face with his left hand. Althea grabbed his shoulder and turned him towards her. "What happened here, soldier?" she snapped at him.
He turned to speak, but couldn't; half his face was a bloody mess, his skull showing through in patches under the meat. Althea gently laid him down and opened his right forage pocket. If he were a good soldier his medkit would be there. Good, it is.
She pulled out the small black plastic box and tore off the wrapper. Unfolding it, she placed it over the soldier's face and held him down as he screamed in agony. The screaming subsided as a silvery slime worked its way across his face; nanosurgeons injecting painkiller and cleaning the wound. As another soldier wandered by, she grabbed him. "Take care of him," she commanded and rushed off as he complied.
Running in the corridors, Althea looked at the huge cooling pipes that ran to the Gate Engine at the center of the complex. This one was one hundred years old and enormous compared to the modern ones that were the size of rooms. It required constant maintenance and was erratic during the best of times. Something had gone horribly wrong.
In her haste, Althea turned a corner and ran right into Ataru, knocking him flat. She helped him up, propping him up against the wall. His yellow green eyes had gone wide in shock and he was slightly hyperventilating. Althea shook him, making his eyes focus on her.
"Lieutenant," he mumbled.
"Where's Mallik?" Althea cried, her voice full of worry.
He shook his head. "You shouldn't see her," he said, sadly.
She threw him against the wall with a meaty thud and grabbed him again, this time by the neck. Her hand had a metallic grip that almost crushed his throat. "Where is she?!" Her pupils had dilated and her skin had become fully leopard spotted indicating that she had gone into combat mode. Everything snapped into crystal clarity around her.
The sounds of crackling fires and moans of the dying flooded her ears. The acrid scent of burned electronics and the sickly sweet smells of burning flesh assaulted her nose. Monitors and displays of her bodily systems snapped into view as her organic liquid crystal cyber computer came to life.
"Where is she?" Althea said, menacingly. Her voice now had a metallic sound to it, making it sound even more terrible.
Arty started to hyperventilate again. You did not refuse to answer a pissed Mechanese's questions, it just wasn't healthy. "N..n..near the G..g..gate. Sector thirty-four." She released him, his blood on her fingers from the tiny puncture wounds her claws had made.
Time slowed down for Althea as her reflexes kicked into a higher level than any human's. She ran past two staggering technicians, just a blur to them. This was combat mode four, the hardest she had ever pushed her body.
A corner. She jumped letting her inertia carry her towards the wall as she kicked to flip her legs towards it. Althea landed with a thump and kicked off effortlessly to rebound down the corridor and land on her feet at a run. Pipes flashed by, then the electromagnetic coils that the gate used to manipulate the gravitic energies to punch through the dimensions. As her goal approached the smoke and heat increased, making her turn off her inborn infravision to distinguish between the heat ghosts and the real objects.
Sector thirty-four's door was blasted off its hinges; the door frame cracked and ceiling crumbling. Althea picked her way through the rubble checking each body to see if it was familiar. Hisses of discharging coolant, deafening loud, came from above; this was directly under the Gate itself.
Althea caught a familiar scent, but it was interspersed with another scent, that of cooking meat. Lord Mechanon, no!! She bounded over a pile of rubble and peered into the smoke. There! Among the wreckage a lone computer console stood relatively intact, but on its side. A long thin tail and two legs poked out from under it.
Leaping, Althea landed next to the console and braced her feet on the ground. She sunk her claws into the metal and heaved. This will hurt later, she thought coldly as she flexed muscles made stronger by the combat mode. With a rending squeal, the console tore out of the rubble to be thrown away.
Mallik lay flat with her neck at an odd angle and one sightless eye open. An expanding pool of blood came from the stump of her right arm and there was charring around the edges of her tail where the fire had gotten to it.
NO! Althea screamed in her mind as icy fingers tore at her heart. No… She wanted to cry, but couldn't. Althea sat down on the rubble next to her one love and bent to kiss her cheek for the last time.
Storm League Security Force Base 12 near Durenburgh
Gold Coast Province, Afrika
GmbH
Reality of Erde
22 March 2190, Erde Standard Calendar
The funeral had been a private affair, with only herself and Ataru in attendance. A large male dragon had shown up to view the body, but had refused to speak to either of them. Mallik was lowered into the grave and at the words of the base's minister covered with soil.
The Gate had malfunctioned during a routine test and had focused its gravitic energies upon itself, tearing holes at random into the interdimensional fabric. Four hundred people had died, more were wounded. This was a disaster for the history books. The Storm League had decided to demolish the Gate and build several smaller ones dispersed throughout the base to minimize the danger of another explosion.
As they left the mound of earth that was Mallik's final resting ground, Ataru striding slightly ahead of Althea, the sunlight of the Afrikan noon sun beat down on them. Ataru had stripped down to his tank top and shorts; his fur was more than enough protection from the sun. "So," he said speaking for the first time since the funeral had begun. "Do you want to talk about it? Crying on a shoulder can help."
Yes! Let me weep for her! Let me cry out all the things I didn't say to her! Althea screamed inside. Her face remained expressionless. "No. I'm fine," she said dully, almost mechanically.
"Oh… All right," he said dejectedly. "I just thought that you might feel out of sorts seeing as you two were… very close."
"People die. It's the nature of life," Althea said blandly. Why am I saying this?! She cried. I'm in so much pain, my heart is about to burst. Why didn't I keep her home that day?! Pain started inside her head, like a needle shoved into the center of her brain.
Ataru stopped abruptly. "That was a cold thing to say about her, Althea." His ears flattened against his head and his whiskers stood out like bristles. "She was the nicest person I ever met and your lover! Not a pet dog or weasel! How could you… You cold bitch!" He stomped away, tail twitching in agitation.
Come back! Althea cried inside. I need your help! She stood there and watched him leave showing no more emotion than a stone. The pain inside her head increased.
The house was cold and lonely as Althea walked in. The sun had gone down an hour ago while she was at the gym. She told the lights to come on as she entered the living room, then changed her mind and had the house go dark. The lights had only been for Mallik; she hadn't been able to see in the dark. The house was still immaculate from the last cleaning, no clothes on the floor or dishes in the sink. She had done it with the same efficiency as before, but it had been just a chore; there was no meaning behind the work, no humming, no emotion. The house was lifeless and empty to her.
Althea slowly stripped, letting her clothes lie where they fell as she walked up the carpeted stairs. Her braid of white hair hung limp down her back, clinging to her body as if it too were depressed. Reaching the upper story, Althea went into the large room they had shared. When Mallik was here it had seemed so warm and cozy. Now, it seemed large and impersonal, just a place to sleep.
She fell down on the large feather bed they had bought together and stared up at the two crossed swords on the wall above the headboard. They were monocrysteel; thin blue blades on black hilts with beautiful curved cross guards. She couldn't count the times that she had danced with them for Mallik's enjoyment or the times they fell to lovemaking afterwards.
She tried to sleep, but thoughts of what might have been kept her awake, ghosts of the past just beyond her reach. I loved her! she thought as a twisting pain began in her head again. Love, it was an emotion she'd never felt before. Through the pain she wondered if she could ever find anyone who wanted or needed her like Mallik had. I never had these thoughts before, she thought, swinging her legs off the bed as she sat up. She brought out my feelings; made me like myself.
"Mallik, I miss you!" she cried suddenly, letting the emotions out, wetness staining her cheeks as salty tears ran down them. Soon, her body was wracking with sobs as she broke down and cried. The pain in her head increased. Lord Mechanon, is her death your punishment for me having been happy?!
The pain spiked suddenly, making Althea grab her head and collapse on the bed. As it slowly left her, she felt someone in the room with her. The old combat feeling was never wrong, but as she looked around there was no heat source. She sniffed the air. No scent. Althea triggered her combat mode to increase her senses. Still nothing.
She jumped backwards over the bed twisting to grab one of the swords and landed in a crouch, her braid hanging over her shoulder. Relaxing her eye muscles, Althea shut out her infravision. She searched the room quickly, taking in every detail.
There! A shape moved in the dark near the stairwell. What is it? Althea thought detachedly as she leaped, sword in hand, coming down to strike the shape; instinct overwhelming conscious desire. Long copper red hair flashed atop a young girl's head as momentum carried the thin blue blade to cleave effortlessly through her midsection.
"No!" Althea screamed as the blade embedded itself into the foamed concrete and steel banister. Turning around, expecting to see blood everywhere, Althea saw the lithe girl standing there staring at her in shock, her copper hair the only covering on her body. Judging from her build, she was about twelve or so and as athletic as a biofem of the same age. Her face was pretty in an athletic way, and was almost angular with high cheekbones and proud, hawkish, green eyes. The most striking feature was that there was no wound.
The girl's expression hardened to one that was used to being obeyed. She began talking, but Althea couldn't understand the words. It sounded like Texican, but it was so different.
After a moment of shocked recognition, Althea waved her hand effortlessly through the girl child's body. No, she thought. Not again! If they find out I'm seeing things again they'll send me back! Panic shook her. I won't go back there! Aliaroo's face flashed in her mind. I'll never have you in my head again! I'll kill you first, Devil spawn!
M'keii Girl's School
Delendun Province, Apollionus District
Domination of the Draka
Reality of Drakensis
November 10, 349th year of the Final Society (2349 AD, 351 Dispersal)
10 November 2193, Erde Standard Calendar
"No? Really? You dream about this wench every night?" Catherine Hardegree said, looking at a small oil painting of Althea.
Tamirindus Rohm nodded. "Since Ah was twelve," she giggled. "First thing she did was try ta gut me, but it's mah dream, so Ah can't be touched."
They sat in Tamirindus' senior dorm room at a small table in the blue and white tile floored alcove. Artwork on paper and canvas was strewn everywhere in the room, even resting on the many flowering plants there. The small glass table the two sixteen year old drakensis girls sat at had a central support made of glass that mushroomed into the table top.
Their rattan chairs were made of the strong, but spindly Martian grown bamboo that was in style now. A small bowl of blue apples, black strawberries and lavender pears sat amid the mess in the middle of the table, half ignored, but scenting the room with their aroma.
Tamirindus reached for a strawberry and threw it into her mouth with cat-like grace. "It was real weird, she didn't even know Talk" —the slang for the dialect of English they spoke— "Ah had ta teach it to her. Didn't take too long; two weeks or so. She hated me fo' a long time, though. Ah think she still does somewhat." She laughed. "What mah brain comes up with, I swear! Least she's a trove a' ideas."
Catherine put down the canvas and picked up a ream of papers; watercolors of men in uniform. Her light red-blonde hair fell in ringlets about her shoulders as she bent to examine them. Humanoid animals were interspersed throughout the folder as were outlandish, but plausible machines. She paused at a picture of a slim man with long pointy ears dressed in a pseudo-Chinese/Nazi robe. "Who's this?" she asked with a sidelong glance from her blue eyes.
"That," Tamirindus said quietly, "is Wang Hei Mei Lung; the first and only Emperor of Zhong Gua: the Sidhe. He started a genocidal war against all non-Elves across the Realities. Nasty little bastard, prob'ly would've liked him."
Catherine shook her head. "You are bonzo crazy, Tamirindus. I don't know why I love you," she said with mock seriousness. "Besides me havin' to put up with you in class all day long you drag me here to look at your weird…"
"Award winning," Tamirindus interjected.
"Weird 'award winning' artwork of your Sky whatsit all night," Catherine finished.
"Would yo' have it any other way, love?" Tamirindus asked as she batted her eyelashes at her.
"Nah, you're too weird for anyone else," Catherine quipped, dodging out of Tamirindus' play punch that would've knocked a human off his feet. Homo Sapiens drakensis were five times as strong as humans due to the genetic engineering their ancestors had done. "What I want to know is where are we? You've got all these alternate earths that hop around to each other with Gates and use this magical Sky Hurricane as a slower route, but no mention of us, no Draka. Why?"
"Althea nevah said anythin' 'bout us. Maybe we haven't come into the picture yet, hey?" Tamirindus answered, her wolfish smile white against her golden tanned skin. Catherine gave a ferocious smile back. It would be good for her people to be able to conquer again. After all, they were descended from the people who had enslaved the Earth, the Draka.
The Draka had originally been the refugees from the American Revolution and the Civil War who had settled in South Africa. They had brought the rule of whip and chain with them, enslaving the native peoples there, making them work on the plantations for their wealth. Later when mineral riches had been found at the heart of the continent the Draka had industrialized and expanded, never without their serfs.
In wars they had expanded into the Middle East and Asia and put the peoples there under the yoke as well. Then had come the second worldwide war, the Eurasian War. The Domination had let the nations of Europe wear each other down then come in to sweep them all up. The pacification and enslavement of Europe had been a shock to most civilized peoples, who thought that slavery was only for the uneducated. They soon learned that the Draka only had one rule: Only the strong rule, the weak are here for us to use as we will.
That had forged the Alliance for Democracy, with the United States of America at its head. A cold war had lasted from the late forties till the nineties, first on Earth then in the heavens on Luna and in the asteroid belt. The Final War had come in 1998 killing most of the Earth's population, the Domination being the victors. The remnants of the Alliance left in a sublight starship towards a planet called Samothrace, while the Domination licked it's wounds and tried to rebuild the planet.
Now, over three hundred years after the Final War, the three hundredth forty-ninth year of the Final Society, the Draka and Samothrace stared at each other in hatred across four light years of space. Faster than light was impossible and carrying wars across the interstellar void was impossible. Who wanted to spend forty years in a sublight warship to be met by people who had seen you coming for decades?
Instead they had sent their own ships to other promising worlds to found colonies there. Drakensis were explorers, warriors and hunters; they needed room to expand. Besides, they could wait out the long transit times between stars. Gene engineering had given them more than strength, speed and endurance; their bodies stabilized in their mid twenties, remaining in homeostasis thereafter and fought off almost any disease. Immortality of sorts. Being able to play with genetics like clay did have it's advantages.
They had changed the planet too, adding species and changing others. The original human serfs were now Homo Sapiens servus; a slightly meeker breed of human that were particularly susceptible to the drakensis' pheromones.
"Did you tame her or do you have a feral serf runnin' round that head of yours," Catherine said picking up another picture of the leopard spotted girl.
Tamirindus rolled her eyes. "Hell, it ain't like Ah'm crazy, hey?" she said as Catherine smiled back. "Let's see. She somewhat feral, but that's 'cause she thinks that Ah'm her hallucination." A short laugh as she ran her fingers through her coppery red pageboy. "Imagine, me, a hallucination in mah own dream." She got serious. "Ah invented the wench when she was pretty vulnerable; jus' lost her lover. A dragoness."
Tamirindus let that sink in and Catherine gave a short laugh. "Yeah, pretty perverted, huh? But, Ah sort of took the dragon's place. She needed someone. Anyone. Mind yo' Ah had ta do it all by hand. No pheromones or easy stuff like breakin' the will by showin' her Ah could do anythin' with her Ah wanted."
Catherine looked up. "I thought it was your dream? Can't you do everything in dreams? I can."
"No, Ah think that my brain thinks that Ah need a challenge, so nothin' works," she laughed. "Hell, Ah'm just a ghost. Can't touch nothin'. Even need the wench ta turn pages and stuff. Ah can float through walls and her. Feels tingly though.
"Took awhile, but she sort of likes me. Under that expressionless mask of hers I can see a small bit of joy when she first sees me show up," Tamirindus said wistfully. She changed the subject. "Here's something really weird: everythin' in German."
"No."
"Yeah. I didn't even know it 'till she taught me. Racial memory, Ah guess. My great great Granpa was German. Nazi scientist, Ah think," Tamirindus mused. "Sort of weird German, though, like it's been through the same mutations that ouah English has. Lots of loan words from Arabic, Hindi and African, some French there too. Everythin's real choppy, like the words were shortened." She moved some papers, her strong hands working delicately to avoid tearing the material.
"Ah tried ta talk ta old Pattersson, the linguistics instructor, in her German. He said that my diction was terrible and the pronunciation was all wrong," she winked. "So much fo' sleep teachin' yo'self."
"Tell me: What's she like?" Catherine inquired, resting her chin on interlocked hands. "I want to see how much of you is in her."
Tamirindus smiled slowly and longingly before she spoke, remembering. "She's got a blunt, honest personality, no subtlety or style. Like a machine, hey? But, sometimes, just sometimes, she smiles or cries like a kid. Puts everythin' into it, like it's either off or on." Tamirindus stood and retrieved a pad of paper and a pen from the mess in the room. She sat back down and began to sketch. "She's an artist…"
"Like you?" Catherine said, smiling.
Tamirindus stopped and looked up in thought before continuing. "No, not exactly. She's a sculptor, works in white jade mostly." She laughed as she continued. "Got real pissed when Ah caught her at it one night, threw things at me then tried to ignore me for weeks, Finally showed me her work after Ah made her." Althea had ignored her for months after that.
"Didn't your Aunt Kaila have a serf that worked in that stuff?" Catherine asked, picking up more art.
"Yeah, but he was nowhere near as good as Althea. She's better than any Ah've ever seen," she sighed, Althea's artwork was exquisite, even Tamirindus with her perfect memory wasn't able to capture the feel of it when she made drawings of her sculptures.
Tamirindus began shading in her sketch. "She moves like a cat, so fluidly. Makes me feel like a wallowing hippo," she smiled, laughing. "Silly to be jealous of a dream." She paused. "Make one of ouah gymnasts look clumsy."
"Even Gloriana Kenoyer?" Catherine interjected.
Tamirindus snorted. "Make her look like an elephant in tar." Catherine whistled slowly. Gloriana was the school's best gymnast, she could probably get into The Games, and win. Tamirindus continued: "She's not as strong as us, though. Only 'bout twice as strong as a human, until she goes nuts. Then she's about three oah four times as strong. Doesn't use her strength in a fight. Instead she uses her speed and agility to get the shots right or her claws at yo' close in. But if one of us got her in a bear hug, she'd crack like a twig," Tamirindus said, making a snapping motion with her hands. "She's quick, but still inferior to the Race."
"Claws?" Catherine asked in disbelief.
"Yes, claws. Like fingernails," Tamirindus said wiggling her tanned hand. "But, they're curved a little. Snap out when she wants 'em to. Like a cat, hey? The suckers are monomolecular, very sharp. She told me that she has to scratch somethin' like a cat tree so they don't get too long."
Tamirindus sighed dreamily. "Oh gods, Ah want her!" Draka wanted, no, needed, to control and possess others, an inborn trait of their aggressiveness. "'Cause Loki's nuts she's painful to watch not bein' able to touch." She turned her drawing around for Catherine to see: Althea sat at a table and was working on a sculpture of Tamirindus made out of jade with small hand chisels and drills. Her straight white hair fell around her neck and spilled over her shoulders touching the table.
"You're a real sadist, love. That jade's hard to work with," Catherine said as she rose and stretched, looking like a great cat as muscles moved beneath her lightly tanned skin. "Too bad none of this stuff is real. Might be fun playin' with her and you together." Catherine kissed her on the lips lingering passionately. "Gotta go. Exam tomorrow, love." A laugh. "I love you — but you sure have a weird hobby. Night, love."
"Night," Tamirindus replied.
As Catherine left the room Tamirindus sighed. Too bad, she thought wistfully. Althea had already admitted to being the submissive one with Mallik and it had made Tamirindus wish she wasn't a dream even more. She sighed again. Back to reality, she thought as she looked around the room strewn with artwork.
Gods damn, I'm messy. She opened the connecting door to the servant's quarters. "Sophia, come here." A dull thump and then clumsy padding. Tamirindus smelt her coming, a complex mix of happiness, fear, awe and willingness that signaled submission; a smell that made her want to guide and protect. Good scent, she thought as Sophia came into the room.
"Yes, Mistis?" Sophia asked as she entered the room. The small fourteen-year old brown girl brushed her blonde hair out of her face with a hand and smiled, making her pretty face even more so. She was dressed in a long white cotton nightshirt with small blue orchids embroidered into it. Her body was just starting to blossom into womanhood and the garment accented her hips and small, high breasts.
"Clean up this mess, then wait in my room," Tamirindus said softly, she didn't want to spook the poor girl now. Damn I'm horny. Of course Cathy has to get me all excited and leave me with my serf. Too bad Sophia's so soft, kind of like masturbating in a way.
"Yes, Mistis." Sofia bent to pick up a sheaf of paper.
Tamirindus caught herself watching the serf. Gotta take a shower, she thought, as she left the room entering the dark bedroom. Her eyes glinted slightly like a cat's as her pupils expanded to let in all available light, making the room quite visible.
Tamirindus discarded her clothes, confident that her serf would clean them up, as she entered the large bathroom and got into the mosaic tiled shower. The water turned on automatically, filling up the room with steam. She luxuriated in the feel of it as she cleaned herself. There were quicker ways of cleaning oneself, but showers and baths were still the most soothing.
Ah, this is good, she thought as the near scalding water massaged her. Shower, Sex and Sleep, the three S's her mother told her to never forget if she wanted to be happy in the morning. Tamirindus let her sex pheromones reach their height unconsciously as she left the shower to dry off with a warm, fluffy towel.
She walked into the dark bedroom still drying her hair. Sophia was sitting on the bed rather meekly, her submissive scent filled the air making Tamirindus let out a little growl of pleasure.
"Mistis, evra'tin' clean." Sophia smiled, obviously happy at what was going to happen next.
Tamirindus sat next to her making the bed creak, having denser bones did make you heavier. The serf was shorter than Tamirindus' five foot six inches, just reaching her nose if they stood next to one another. Another unconscious reminder that drakensis were better than servus. "Sophia, what yo' think of her?" she said, pointing to an oil painting of Althea sitting in a corner.
"Me, Mistis?" The serf's eyes widened. It wasn't often that her owner actually asked her opinion.
"Yes, yo'. Go on, be truthful." Not that it could occur to a servus to be untruthful to one of the Race. Genetics and culture prevented that. Even if she managed to lie to me, I could hear her subvocalize her thoughts and see her body temperature change as she did.
"Mistis, she scare me. Like a big cat. Cruel lookin' an' she have all dem claws. Maybe she eat me up," she said, self-consciously. "'Sides she not a Masta' like yo', Mistis. Maybe she hurt me, 'stead of lovin'," Sophia punctuated her words by snuggling into Tamirindus' arms.
"Don' worry, Ah'll always protect yo'," Tamirindus hugged the serf to her and eased her down on the bed. As they kissed, Tamirindus removed Sophia's clothes and put them on the floor. She broke contact with Sophia's lips to mouth the serf's breast. As Sophia responded, Tamirindus felt pleasure at being in control. "Good wench. That's the way to do it," she purred, moving lower.
Darkness. Soft music playing in the background. The flashing strobe of a video screen. Black industrial furniture on a black carpet. Althea's house, Tamirindus thought. Why am I always disoriented when I dream? She looked around and spotted Althea lying on the couch, half awake, leopard spots standing dark on her tawny skin and her silky, white hair flowing over the edge of the couch to touch the floor like a miniature waterfall. She was clutching the half-finished statuette of Mallik, letting her eyes squeeze large tears onto her cheeks. Why did I have to invent such a sad person? Tamirindus thought absently. "What yo' doin' wench?" she said softly.
Althea looked up and saw Tamirindus floating near the stairs. She sat up and dried her tears and quickly hid the statuette. "Remembering," she replied stonily, her Talk had become almost fluent by now. "Our song came on the radio, I couldn't help myself."
"It's alright wench. What yo' been up to today?" Tamirindus said as she "sat" down next to the naked biofem.
Althea twitched slightly, momentarily annoyed that the Draka obviously considered her her property. "I've gotten better at my job, Tami," she said softly, letting emotions wash over her. The promotion was supposed to be good, but she had never had any ambitions to be high in rank. "I was promoted to first lieutenant, a Group Leader with my own team. They like my performance, but they think I'm a little too ruthless sometimes. I took your advice too literally."
"That's good," Tamirindus said proudly. Using my advice! she thought. It had been a battle to get Althea to acknowledge anything she had said in the beginning, this showed how pliable she was now. "What yo' do with you team?" she asked, curious. Althea had never told her exactly what it was she did other than that she was in the military.
"I… I…" she stammered. Why not, she thought. She'll just find out anyway. She is my hallucination, part of me.
"Spit it out wench," Tamirindus said casually. "Yo' know I don't tolerate lyin'."
Althea sighed. Besides, if I don't tell her she'll have another temper tantrum and keep me awake all night. Why couldn't I go crazy like Sera and nuke something instead of this? "Fine," she growled. "It's not very interesting anyway."
"Watch that tone with me," Tamirindus growled back, her green eyes flaring. This wench is so difficult at times!
Althea was quieter as she spoke, visibly rebuffed by Tamirindus. "We look for downed ships that fall out of the Sky Hurricane onto aboriginal territories. If we find them, we rescue the crews and destroy the evidence. If we can't rescue anyone or destroy the evidence we report back and the Storm League decides whether to allow them in the League or quarantine the Reality."
"What if yo' can't report back," Tamirindus asked, interested now.
"I always report back," Althea said proudly. "Or I will die in an attempt to do so."
"But, if yo're cut off and can't repo't back, what do they do?"
"Quarantine the area and put up a satellite to monitor the Reality. The team is considered lost and their possessions are Gated to the Reality in which they died. A burial at sea." Althea replied, absently scratching at a star shaped piece of skin on her belly that was hard.
"What happened there?" Tamirindus asked, slightly worried.
"The old Lieutenant… disagreed… with my promotion and tried to kill me," Althea answered as she broke up the armor skin with a claw. New pink skin showed underneath. "Shot me with a pistol in the belly at morning roll call. My armor skin stopped it, but it hurt a little. I'll have a bruise for a while."
"Yo' killed the bastard didn't yo'?" Tamirindus said angrily. No one hurts my property and gets away with it! she thought. Failing to protect a serf was bad for a Draka. She's mine! If anyone messes with my dream it'll be me!
"No," Althea answered as she gave a faraway smile. "I broke his arms in the .3 seconds it took him to release the trigger. I've slowed down," she said dejectedly. "He shouldn't have been able to reach for the gun, let alone fire it." Althea shook her head slowly in disgust. "I enrolled in the hardest training exercises to bring myself back up to speed."
Tamirindus reached over and stroked Althea absently, the tingling sensation in her fingers letting her sense when she ghosted through Althea's skin. "Good wench," she soothed, bringing her fingers under Althea's chin. Althea recoiled at the Draka's touch and put a lightning quick punch through Tamirindus' face.
As the fist drew away, Tamirindus' face twisted in anger. "Dammit Althea! Stop that! Yo' knows Ah hates it!"
Althea started, and for a second looked like a small child as she put her hands in her lap. "P..purey zelg Elkesto," she whispered, looking at her lap.
"That's betah wench. Yo' know yo' superior, don't yo'?" Tamirindus asked, lifting Althea's chin with the sensation her fingers produced as they ghosted into her.
"Eskes, zelg Elkesto," she murmured as she looked into Tamirindus' eyes. Lord Mechanon, I'm so frightened of her now! She paused in her thoughts. No it wasn't all fear. There was also a trace of the same feeling that had bonded her to Mallik, that love. No… Am I in love with her? She almost panicked, but Tamirindus' eyes held her in their stare.
Tamirindus let her finger drift away and Althea visibly relaxed. I shouldn't terrify the poor wench like this, but she has to learn. Leaning back, Tamirindus settled slightly in the couch. "What was that yo' were talkin' in earlier?" she asked absently. The language was one she didn't recognize.
"Mekan," Althea replied quietly. "My native tongue. I say things in it sometimes."
Like when you're nervous. Tamirindus made a mental note to learn the language, it might be useful later. "Weird stuff, sounds like Latin thrown through German," she said, playing with her hair.
"Althea, would yo' like to live with me if it was possible?" the Draka asked suddenly.
"I… I…" Althea stammered and looked down at her lap again. I'm so confused. She makes me feel like Mallik did, but she's so different. I would be her toy, a plaything with no responsibilities. She sighed and felt cracks in the armor of her psyche. Would it be so bad to hunt, recreate and serve? I'm a slave here already, I can't leave; go home to my people. I want to say 'yes' but I know that the only way to be with her is by going completely mad. If I say 'no' she'll have a tantrum again and drive me mad.
"Y… y..yes, Tami. I would, but I can't solidify a hallucination, no matter how much I want to," she whispered, almost too low for the Draka to hear.
"Yo' would be my serf?" Tamirindus purred in pleasure.
"I'm already a slave to duty," Althea replied, suddenly looking very weary and sad. "Why not be a slave for love?"
Somewhere in The Sky Hurricane
Aboard the Free Trader Vince Magruder
8 May 2194, Erde Standard Calendar
0248 Hours
A wallowing four hundred foot long, one hundred foot wide rectangle of dull gray metal drifted in the sunset colored clouds of the Sky Hurricane, the interdimensional "nowhere" that people without Gates used to travel between Realities. The huge behemoth looked like a parody of a flattened zeppelin with airlocks and cargo hatches covering its surface. The Vince Magruder was, in fact, a converted GmbH space tug that had had its ion engines removed and replaced with a gravitic system. The ugly thing had been making its rounds for the last eighteen years as a cargo carrier and a "passenger" ship and was now a familiar sight in the less traveled Realities.
Anja Heinrich sat in one of the cramped passenger seats playing with her long, dark brown hair. She had recently graduated from the GmbH's Academy of Sciences where she had majored in Gate Engineering. This was her first vacation before beginning work at the Ottawa research facility. She had saved for months to even afford this, the cheapest transport she could find, but it would be worth every discomfort when she reached her destination, the colony of Blau Ein. The cabin she had rented in the Americas sat overlooking a valley with a lake.
Just me and the birds, she thought pleasantly. The university life had grated on her. Everything was too close. She had felt like she'd been dying of suffocation every time she left her room. To save money she had had to share her room. Her roommates had been two male lovers who had kept her awake at night for two years. She had been too frightened of them leaving to complain about the noise, so she had just put up with it.
At least they could've asked me to join, Anja reflected unhappily. I had to be one of the few straight people left on the planet. Maybe she could convert; that blonde with the pretty face, Ditte, had asked her out before.
Alarm klaxons wailed, interrupting her thoughts. The clamshell form of the passenger seat folded about her. "What the hell?" She shouted. A rumbling vibration could be felt through the floor. "Shit, I hope we don't go down!" she shrieked. The Sky Hurricane didn't have a bottom; they could fall for centuries! This is what I get for traveling on the cheap. Why me?! Why is it always me? Anja thought as she began to cry.
"Johannes, what in Hades is going on in my hold!" Captain Bruce Spriggs yelled at his Navigator.
The bipedal unicorn looked up from his monitor in shock. "It's that crate we picked up on Dead World! Something came out of it. It's shooting everything!"
The captain's face twisted in rage. "I told you we shouldn't have trusted those elves!" He began stabbing at buttons in the cramped cabin. "Shit! The computer's gone! I can't drop the cargo load!" He turned towards Johannes and grabbed his blue silk shirt. "Open a portal, dammit!"
"B..But I don't know where we are!" Johannes protested. "Opening a portal now could throw us into some unknown Reality, maybe aboriginal!"
Bruce grabbed the unicorn's small white goatee in a tight grip and began yanking his head around by it. "Do it now!" He pointed at the monitor; the nine-foot tall nightmare of rotting flesh had fired another precise shot into the engine. "Or we'll end up as debris when that thing you let in my ship blows the engine!" The captain released his grip and the unicorn flopped against his seat, his huge purple eyes starkly contrasted against his white fur and horn.
"Y..yes sir," Johannes stammered. Flipping back a panel that looked as if it had been recently added, he reached into the space behind it and pulled out a jewel-encrusted rock. The emergency gate spell woven into its substance was felt rather than seen. He gripped it tightly and began to mutter words in High Ost, the ancient language of the Ostianus Empire. Glowing tears welled up in his eyes, evaporating to join the green mist that floated out from the rock. The cabin became dark and foreboding. Green and black shadows appeared, stretching across the floor and crept up the walls. The jeweled rock began pulsing in time with the unicorn's words.
The vibrations in the floor suddenly stopped and Bruce looked up at the monitor in astonishment. He was sure that the dead thing was staring at him. "Open the portal now!" he screamed as a black energy crackled out of the computer console to burn his hands and face.
Johannes made a gesture with his free hand and crushed the rock, sending fragments of it whizzing around the cabin at high velocity. A huge glowing green hole opened up in the side of a cloud directly in front of the Vince Magruder, and the ship moved closer. In the Reality on the other side of the dimensional portal, angry black clouds boiled out of the hole, instantly causing a storm.
As the Vince Magruder nosed through the gap in the sky, Johannes saw a dark forest below them in the night. Mystic sense told him the manna level of the new Reality: only two percent. It would be a long time before he could build up the power to do this again.
Glowing green rain fell from the portal they dropped through, mixing with the real rain from the clouds that had been drawn to the hole like pieces of metal to a magnet. Weird phenomena surrounded interdimensional travel, and this sort of precipitation was the most common. A soft beep indicated return of computer control. A glance at the monitor told him that the cargo hatch had opened slightly and that the thing was gone. Thank Jova, he thought. "Captain Spriggs, the computer is online again," he said turning towards the human.
"Hurrrr…" Bruce's face had gone slack-jawed and his glazed eyes burned red. "Urrgh!" He rose and reached for the unicorn's throat with hands that had become claws.
"Sweet Jova!" Johannes yelled, lifting his pistol from his tooled leather belt and pointing it at Bruce's chest. The Vernian pistol barked and threw Bruce, or the thing he had become, back into his seat. The smell of burnt cordite was intermingled with the coppery scent of blood.
Bruce stood up again and lunged at Johannes, the pink wound was oozing blood slowly and a crackling black energy pulsed inside. The ejection seat! Johannes slammed his hand on a red button on the console and the ship shook. Damn! Wrong one! That sound had been the launching of the passenger seats. I'll…
Hands gripped his throat from behind, choking him. Damn bastard, he thought as he struggled and slammed his fist down again and again on the panel. A loud buzzing filled the air. Oh no. I hit the dest… The Vince Magruder's anti-gravity engines blossomed red and the ship began falling towards the ground. Emergency grav units turned on only enough to turn its tumble to the ground into a long sliding plow that tore a deep furrow in the forest floor.
Domination Space Command Platform Niflheim
Low Earth Orbit
Domination of the Draka
Reality of Drakensis
May 8, 350th Year of the Final Society
0253 Hours
Boring. Decurion Robert Iosue floated in the old battle station watching monitors through his implanted transducer. Lithe and well muscled, he had the typical build of a male drakensis. Why couldn't they get a servus to do this boring crap, he thought. It's not like the servus'll rebel or the Samothracians are on the planet. The battle station had been unused for centuries except as a monitoring device and only a handful of people were employed to man it.
Rather be on Mars with Dorothy, he smiled to himself lustily. Dorothy Klein was soon to be his wife, they'd already picked out the serf brooder to bear their children and were up for the next interstellar colony. Be nice to tame a new world, I hope there's aliens there. It would be good to be conquerors instead of wolves in a cage of their own making for once.
His transducer screamed information at him interrupting his daydreams. He keyed the monitor that showed the disturbance almost without thought. Draka were prone to react to a situation rather than be surprised by it, but this, this was weird. Sector four had a flash of green light that was then obscured by black clouds that came from nowhere. What the?! chiliarch, he thought into the transducer.
yes robert, Chiliarch Reyna Hapgood thought in reply.
i have something weird going on in sector four.
patching in… loki's prick up thor's ass! what the hell is that! she thought, genuinely surprised.
i don't know. there was a green flash then the clouds… wait there's a red flash now. lost it.
shit, crash maybe? Reyna asked. robert, what's in that there area?
southwest coast of africa, parkland… girl's school fifty kilometers away. probably didn't even hear it.
right. alert someone down there.
a.k. A pause. security's got it. intercepting in ten minutes, but they say the weather's gone crazy down there.
Reyna looked at the expanding weather front on her screen. Shit, she thought. That's big… What the hell? The storm was dissipating from the center out as quickly as it had appeared. rob, give those headhunters some satellite feed. This is going to be a weird night, she thought wearily.
3°12' West 6°35' North
Delendun Province, Ogun District
Domination of the Draka
Reality of Drakensis
May 8, 350th Year of the Final Society
0305 Hours
Centurion Antony Radojevic of Security Directorate stood outside the strange craft in the remains of the destroyed rain forest. Mud sucked at his boots as he moved down the slope with his troops. They wore color-shifting chameleon uniforms made of memory-molecule fabric that could stop most small arms fire. The troops moved with predatory grace in the actinic glare of the spotlights arcing out from the small fleet of SecDir spinners that crowded the area. Named for the high-speed ceramic fan disks that spun inside the craft's body, the spinners mounted heavy duty fifty-megawatt plasma cannons under their hulls, more than enough to deal with any threat that appeared.
Antony waved ahead a small contingent of his strike team to look at the hull. The thing hadn't come down with much force; the War Directorate boys in orbit said that it had fallen only four hundred feet, but the bulk of it had torn a swath in the rain forest for a little over a kilometer. The front of the ship was buried under the torn earth, jagged shards of metal sprouted from the edge of the dirt indicating its possible self-destruction.
It was a spacecraft, that much had been determined; the numerous airlocks and thruster ports had given that away immediately. Whose spacecraft was another matter entirely. The size and shape of the airlocks alluded that the creators were human, but the design didn't fit any known made from the late 1940's on, Draka or Samothracian. It had a very utilitarian look to it, obviously a deepspace craft not meant for atmospheric flight. Gods it's so ugly, Antony thought as he closed in, scanning the exterior. Heat plumes rose from the exploded engines, flames licking the dull gray hull were put out by some of the spinners with a flame-retardant foam. Nothing distinguishing, just ugly gray metal, this must be mass-produced, it had that look.
What's this? he thought as he saw a glimpse of light red paint and focused on it. Vince Magruder-83N77804 Nationalsozialistische Deutsche Abeite… "Freya's tits," he swore. This godsdamned thing is Nazi!!! An explosion of thought came from his transceiver. shut up! he thought. get inside that thing now! comb the area for survivors. A chorus of "yes sir's" echoed in his transducer. Antony looked at the ugly ship with new wonder and the beginnings of a hunger. Where is it from? he thought. I wonder how they'll fight when we invade? The Domination had been idle a long time, too long.
"Scheiße," Anja cried, tears streaming down her cheeks as she tried to yank her briefcase out of the escape pod her seat had become. "This is so fucking wonderful! God damned bastards! Take my money and crash! My vacation is just ruined!"
The small antigrav units had guided the pod to come to a rest on a hill covered with dense trees. Fallen rain covered everything, an after-effect of the dimensional portal, making the ground muddy and the footing treacherous. "Come on!" she yelled as she yanked on the metal briefcase again. It loosened and came free suddenly. All right… uh oh… scheiße! Anja fell backwards down the hill, sliding in the mud.
She sat up thoroughly disgusted. "This was a new dress too," she wailed. She almost cried as she picked up her briefcase and walked back up the muddy hill, mud squishing between her toes as it worked its way into her sandals.
Reaching the pod, she flipped open a panel and pushed the large red button behind it. Thank God everything's standardized, she thought. A steady pulsing flash and soft beeping began, indicating that the homing signal had been activated.
Maybe they'll send someone instead of a probe, Anja hoped as she settled herself into the mud next to the beacon. "Why me, why me, why me," she asked the heavens. A sound startled her. Oh no, animals… or aborigines. God, I hope they're nice aborigines.
She tried to hide herself against the pod as two humans in chameleon armor strode up the hill with speed and grace. Mechanese? No, they had fluidity to their movement, but it wasn't the perfect, machine-like action that biofems had. Besides, one was male and he didn't look like a gorilla. Oh God, they are aborigines, she thought, letting a tiny gasp out of her mouth. They stopped, then moved towards her with purpose. She watched their lips move beneath their visored eyes, the sounds vaguely recognizable.
Her heart was beating in fright and she began to quiver. "No, no," she whispered as they came closer with their rifles pointed at her chest. Anja's heart beat faster and faster. Maybe they're friendly, a small irrational part of her mind thought.
"S… s… s.p..prekenzie Deutsche?" Anja stammered. They stopped and motioned with their rifles for her to stand up. She complied immediately, not wanting to die in the slightest. The woman shouldered her weapon and grabbed Anja's shoulder with a quickness that startled her. The soldier's strong hand hurt as it pushed Anja against the pod and held her there as her other hand quickly searched her, staying slightly longer than was necessary at her crotch and chest. Finding nothing, she gave a short laugh and said something to the male, who laughed as she backed away from Anja.
Quick as a cat, he flipped his rifle around and slammed it butt first into Anja's stomach. It was only a love tap really, but Anja folded over, retching. She began to cry in pain as they roughly lifted her like a doll and cuffed her hands and feet together. The man put her over his shoulders like a trussed animal and began to walk. Tears welled up in Anja's eyes again and she began to bawl uncontrollably. The woman yelled at her, but she couldn't stop and tape was slapped over her mouth. Tears still streamed down her cheeks. Why me!?!?
Antony Radojevic sat across from the female prisoner on a rock. She had had her ankles unshackled and had only a small pair of handcuffs on. The tape covering her mouth had been removed as well, leaving an ugly red mark on her face. Plain, he thought. Nice breasts though, and very submissive. He let dominance and apprehension pheromones drift towards her, it would help during the interrogation. She was submissive, but very frightened, and might slip up or forget something important.
He motioned to his translator to wipe her face. John McDowell was a young Draka of one hundred and fifty years or so, his brooder had German in her ancestry and had taught him some of the language. He complied somewhat reluctantly, using a small white cloth to clean her up somewhat. She stopped crying, but still wouldn't look at them. Antony snapped his fingers, gaining the attention of both. "Ask who she is and where she's from, John."
John said something in halting German that the girl strained to understand. She sat in thought for a few seconds and returned a torrent of information, smiling in relief. "Suh, her name's Anja Heinrich and she's from… Gods. What's that word?" He turned back to her and said something. She smiled and answered him slowly and carefully making John laugh slightly.
"Well?" Antony asked.
"Suh, she says that Ah talk like her great granpa," John said, chuckling. "Damn, this Kraut's hard ta understand. I think that she said that she's from an alternate earth. She's a Nazi alright, but her country's a Combine, more specifically a corporation"
"An alternate earth!?" Antony repeated, surprised. "So, what we have here is a feral serf from another dimension?" he said sarcastically.
John looked embarrassed. "That's what she said."
"Shee-it!," Antony said slowly. That would certainly explain the ship, but not how it got here. He shook his head. This was one strange night. "Ask her how she got here."
John spoke softly to her and she listened, growing more uncomfortable with each word. She shook her head sullenly until John raised a hand to slap her. She said some words slowly and quietly. John gave her a blank look and turned to Antony. "Suh, she said we wouldn't like the answer and Ah don't."
"What is it?" Antony said peevishly.
"She said that she used somethin' called the Sky Hurricane, whatever that is, and their Navigator was a unicorn magician," John said blankly.
Antony absorbed that for a few seconds, then he jumped in front of Anja and gently grabbed her throat in one quick, graceful movement. He stared into her light blue eyes with his of steel gray. The scent of her terror filled his nostrils as she began to shout incoherently, her eyes impossibly wide. She was a small deer to him, the dire wolf.
"Suh," John said with some urgency as soon as Anja finished. Antony looked at him and saw a wide smile on the soldier's face. "Suh, she said that she's a Gate engineer and says that she'll build us one."
Antony let go of her, smiling wolfishly. He caressed her cheeks, letting her tears wet his fingertips. "What's a Gate?"
John asked her quickly in a commanding voice and she blurted out a long answer between heavy sobs. "This is hard to believe, but tonight's been strange already." Antony shot him a look and he continued. "There's some techno-babble in there, but she says that it's a machine that'll let us cross dimensions to other earths." He smiled broadly. "Oh, and could we please send her home," he almost giggled.
Antony joined him in the mirthless laughter and picked up Anja's hands by the cuffs' chain. "This is your home now and we're your new masters," he said, lifting the chain with each syllable.
Tears came to Anja's eyes again as she heard the translated words. Why me? she wailed inside her head. Why me!?
Monitoring Station #843
West Afrika near Durenburgh
GmbH
Reality of Erde
8 May 2194, Erde Standard Calendar
0325 Hours
An insistent beeping woke Leslie Johnson from her daydream. She looked around the monitoring station, bleary eyed, at the banks of computers and screens. This was a boring job, nothing much to do but sleep. The last call had been fifteen months ago. Call!! The beeping.
She sat bolt upright and touched her computer screen at the red spot glowing softly in the middle of it. A map of West Afrika flashed into existence, broad bands of color radiating out from a 500km area, centered ten kilometers from her. A ship identity code flashed on the screen: Vince Magruder-83N77804, converted spacetug, anti grav units, cargo manifest, reality code 9T0325. Wait, I don't recognize this code, she thought and spun her chain around to the other computer behind her. She punched in the code quickly, the computer chewed on it for a second or two and flashed: UNKNOWN.
Panic filled her. What am I supposed to do?!?!? she thought, trying furiously to remember. Ah, yes. She spun her chair around and keyed the radio on the huge console. "Monitoring Station 843 to Central," Leslie said nervously.
"Central here," a bored man's voice responded.
"I have a downed craft in unknown Reality 9T0325, sir. Request permission to Gate a probe."
There was a burst of static and the voice became more attentive. "Central to Monitoring Station 843. Launch probe immediately. We'll get a team at Base twelve to standby,"
She paused as it sunk in. "Y…yes sir!" Leslie almost yelled in her excitement. Running her fingers over the keyboards she quickly tuned the Gate to the Realities coordinated. A picture of verdant green rain forest appeared in the Gate monitor. A little fuzzy. She adjusted it by hand, fingers on the sliding controls until it became clear.
All right, that's working… Leslie punched in a number sequence releasing the probe from its housing into the Gate Engine in the next building. The little bat-winged jet would search the area and return to the exact location of the Gate, triggering it upon its return. The semi intelligent computers and sensor packages were very expensive, she hoped that she didn't lose the probe. Dock my pay for the next five hundred years if I did.
"Bay loaded. Probe primed," a sexy woman's voice purred. Leslie smiled, she had programmed it to sound exactly like her last girlfriend's.
"Yosh!" she said with gusto. "Let's see what treasures await." She pushed the Gate button and a small gravitic wave made her cropped ash blonde hair feel like it was standing on end. There was a sound of a sudden vacuum and then nothing.
* * *
The probe hovered in the forest, sensors doing a full sweep of the surrounding area. Contact. The Vince Magruder was only twenty-five kilometers to the east. The probe shot above the tree level and accelerated towards its destination.
"Loki's balls! What the hell is that?" Decurion Veronica Lamm shouted as all her electrodetection equipment screamed at her. The target was small and very, very fast. "Hey Jeff! Get yo' eyes on this!"
got it, vicky, he thought. it's headed towards the crash site. strange little thing, but got to follow orders, shoot it down.
rog that, Veronica answered as she targeted the craft. Outside, a missile swiveled and launched, reaching supersonic speeds in seconds. As the missile intercepted it, the target split in two and the missile struck the larger portion. The smaller half fell slowly to earth. jeff…
i saw it, he thought in the transducer. headhunters out there, right?
correct. in force.
ask them to kindly find that thing. we better get our people on it asap or they'll get big heads again.
rog.
* * *
PROBE MALFUNCTION, a screen flashed at Leslie. "Dammit!" she swore. First probe I launch and it malfunctions. She keyed the radio. "Monitoring station 843 to Central."
"Central here."
She swallowed, her mouth dry. "Reporting a probe malfunction in Reality 9T0325."
A pause. "Copy that. We'll notify base twelve to send an extraction team. Central out."
* * *
Antony had heard the sharp echoing crack of the explosion seconds before his transducer informed him to send a recovery team. Damn! I'll have to pull a squad off the inspection of the ship. "John, ask tha wench what that sound was," Antony said as he jumped down from an open airlock to land on the mud below with catlike grace.
John spoke quickly to Anja and turned to Antony. "She says that it's prob'ly a probe to see where the ship crashed. Standard policy."
"What'd it drop?" Antony said disinterested.
After a moment of talking to Anja he answered, "Prob'ly a sensor package. She says they're somewhat expensive and her company'll send an extraction team."
Great. "Pull a few more troops off the perimeter and have them look for anything strange. Hopefully we'll have some prisoners to interrogate soon." He checked his weapons unconsciously. It'd be good to have some action for once.
Gate Facility 6
Base 12 near Durenburgh
Gold Coast Province, Afrika
GmbH
Reality of Erde
8 May 2194, Erde Standard Calendar
0340 Hours
Althea checked over her team in the waiting room of the Gate building. All six of them were dressed in insignialess black ballistic cloth and gel armor pants and jackets, black visored GmbH style helmets and small black backpacks. Cybered black laser/maser rifles were slung from their shoulders, ready at a moment's notice.
Cheap garbage compared to Mechanese equipment, but you always worked with the materials at hand, Althea thought. This should do nicely, she thought pleasantly as she put on her own lobster-tailed helmet, letting the segmented plates slide over her thick braid of white-lavender hair. Damn thing cramps my ears.
"Lieutenant," Sergeant Charles Danley said, getting her attention. She stared at the young Texan volunteer dispassionately. He swallowed. Althea was a good commander, but there was always something about the bioengineered soldier that disturbed him. Maybe it was because she never showed emotions, or the leopard spots she had. "Is this in aborigine territory, or do we have a cakewalk this morning?" Most Realities were unpopulated by intelligent life, if this one were the same it would make their job much easier.
"I have no information on that," she said matter of factly. "We're going in blind, Sergeant. Be prepared for the worst." She plugged her rifle into the interface plugs on her arm. A targeting graphic appeared in her vision along with the weapon's status. The malaser rifle used a high powered laser burst to punch through armor followed by a burst of microwave energy to kill the target. A very effective weapon.
The four others, including the medic, Corporal Kozachenko, were finishing their last minor preparations as Althea picked up the recall stick from the shelf on the wall. The six-inch long, flat black stick with a small button on the side would trigger the Gate to return them when their mission was completed. "Sergeant, issue ECM devices to everyone. I don't want to take chances," she said as she placed the recall stick inside her jacket.
Sergeant Danley handed out the thin two-inch square boxes, clipping his own to his belt. The little magical device would interfere with the transmission of radio waves, making electronics that used them useless. It also gave a magical not here to any sensing devices. The red light above them flashed twice. Time to go, he thought, picking up his rifle and falling in line behind Althea.
Althea opened the airlock door and walked into the plain metal room that was the Gate. Twenty feet on a side, the room stank of disinfectant and sterility. The troops arranged themselves in a circle, guns pointing out in all directions, their fingers resting on the trigger guards. "Command, squad thirty one ready for transport," Althea said, switching to combat mode one, changing her skin color and cueing displays to come into existence in her vision.
A low hum started somewhere in the building; the reactor fed the Gate the huge amount of energy it needed. Green mist began to pour into the room from somewhere else as the room itself seemed to twist and turn before their eyes. A sharp yank and a rushing of air accompanied by a flash of green light and they fell six inches to the ground in the middle of a rain forest. The night vision visors made the dark night seem like day. "Fan out," Althea said, her voice a low growl. She had an uncomfortable tingling sensation inside her head as they moved around the clearing.
- - -
The Devil had hidden itself well after escaping from the crashing sky ship. The amount of radio signals bouncing around its sensors indicated to it that this Reality had a very technical society. Good, it thought in complete hatred. This will make it easier to kill the Enemy. Maybe they have nuclear weapons or computers. It moved it's huge corpse-like power armor through the disgustingly alive underbrush.
The psychic entity had feasted on the energy of several large semi-sentient animals using its telepathic weapons, but it hungered for the death of a sentient. First it would drain all the information from the sentient to better understand this world, then kill it slowly, luxuriating in its slow tortured death. Tearing a tree down with a rotting claw it paused as if it was scenting the air.
That scent… So sweet… A psychic!!!, the Devil thought, hatred radiating from its impossibly dark core, its beady red eyes lighting up in anticipation. It ignited its hover jets and sped through the forest towards the coast, broadcasting commands to the psychic. She wouldn't even know what was happening until it was too late.
- - -
Tamirindus jolted awake from her dream, her head aching. Althea hadn't been in her house all night. That had disturbed her. Ever since she had first dreamed of her, she'd been there, there had never been any variation in that. Shit, maybe I'm all out of ideas. Pain throbbed in her head as she sat up, fully alert. Won't get any more sleep tonight.
"Ungh!" pain hit her again, almost knocking her down. "Outside," she mumbled. "Gotta get some night air." Tamirindus stumbled to her dresser and pulled out some clothes, dressing in her tunic, pants, shoes and gun belt almost mechanically. A noise from the servant's quarters caused her to turn her head. Sophia stood there in her plain cotton nightdress.
"Mistis?" Sophia whispered worriedly.
"Soph… ungh!" pain shot through her head again, a poker of white-hot flame. Outside. Gotta go outside, she thought as she stumbled.
Sophia rushed to her side, trying to prop her up, but was roughly shoved aside. "Whut's wron', Mistis?" Sophia nearly cried.
"Nothin'! Go to bed!" Tamirindus growled as she walked to the glass double doors that opened onto her marble porch. Sophia cringed as Tamirindus threw open the doors and stumbled onto the white marble porch. Grabbing the wrought iron railing, she flung herself over it dropping ten feet to land past the rose bushes on the soft grass below. She lost her balance for a second and fell. Picking herself up, she wandered out into the wild looking gardens behind the school.
Whinnies came from the horses in the stables to her right. Should I ride? she thought. Pain hit her again causing her to stumble. No, just hurt myself more. Tamirindus walked past the stables towards a small stream that emptied into a small pool, night blooms that grew by it scenting the air with their jasmine perfume. A fish splashed in the stream as she stumbled past, following the river's bank further towards the back of the school.
Clumps of trees moved by slowly as she walked, the pain lessening now and again, but returning every time she turned back. At last she reached a copse of trees near the sonic fence that kept the large predators out of the school's grounds. The fence's throbbing hum filled her ears as she looked around in surprise. Her feet had led her to the place she and Catherine had become lovers. They still came here often, playing among the trees and stones and resting in the grass.
Pain racked her for an instant, making her fall, gasping for air. Something large stirred among the trees, but she couldn't move. Fear struck her, then anger. Damn it! What the hell is going on! Then she saw it. Nine feet tall and almost as wide, a huge headless apething with clawed feet and hands. Lifeless white patches of skin covered its hideously spiked and armored body. The rancid scent of decay stung her nose as it bent over, reaching for her head. Tamirindus tried to strike back, grab her gun, something, anything, but her body wouldn't obey. Black wisps of darkness floated out of the small central globe that housed the Devil's psychic being to attach themselves to her head. They began invading her mind, pulling out her thoughts.
This is Althea's Devil! No! This can't be happening!
The Storm League team had reconnoitered the surrounding area and had returned to the clearing that they had appeared in. "The probe's giving off signals over that way," Sergeant Danley said, pointing up north. "And the downed ship is somewhere over there," he pointed to the east. "Which one shall we go get first, Lieutenant?"
Althea stood watching the forest, several heat signatures moved about, wolves and larger jungle predators. "Sergeant our duty is clear. We try to recover the probe, then rescue any survivors. If we fail that we will have to report back to this area." She pulled out a small round rock with a glowing arrow on its surface. Her men seeing this, did so also. It flashed once, setting the location. Now, no matter where they went the arrow would point to this location. Handy, these magic things, she thought grimly, returning the rock to her pocket.
"No, Sergeant, we'll… Ungh!" Althea doubled over, almost dropping her rifle.
"Lieutenant!" Sergeant Danley said, rushing to her side.
Combat mode 5 flashed in Althea's vision. Displays she'd never seen before appeared. An arrow with a black ball at the center pointed away from her position to the south. A black ball? She examined it more thoroughly. Now it became clear. The Devil was here! Her current mission would have to wait until she took care of this, the enemy of her people. The reason for her entire existence was to kill this thing. She twisted out of the Sergeant's grip with a growl.
Boosted muscles and reflexes let her sail away from him in a leap that took her to a tree limb twenty-five feet in the air. She readied her rifle and began jumping from tree to tree with agility and speed that surprised even her.
"Damn it!" Sergeant Danley swore, throwing his helmet to the ground. He had known that Mechanese occasionally went crazy, but why did it have to be on his team? "Fucking bitch! Everyone wait her until she gets back," he said, sitting on a rock. "She's got the only ticket home."
"Mistis! Mistis!"
Catherine woke with a start at the commotion near her servant's quarters. Dammit! That was a good dream, she thought. "This had bettah be life threatenin', Daniel," she growled, getting out of bed. The scent of fear and confusion hit her like a wall. Sophia? What's she doing here? She got up and strode quickly to the servant's quarters. Daniel stood there in his loincloth trying to calm a softly crying Sophia. "What's going on?" Catherine asked Daniel.
"Mistis, Sophia say thet Mistis Tamirindus go crazy an' run outside!" Daniel said incredulously.
"What? Is this true?" Catherine snapped, worry filling her.
Sophia nodded her head. "Yes, Mistis. She grab her head like God hittin' it, an run outside, fallin' down alla time," she wailed. "She awful mean ta me, an' she nev'ah been befo'."
"Where'd she go, wench?" Catherine asked as she got dressed.
"Ah doan' kno', mistis. Me'be yo're hidin' spot, but Ah doan' kno'!" Sophia cried.
"Daniel take care of this here wench. I'm going to find out what's wrong," Catherine said belting on her knife and plasma pistol.
Althea moved through the forest with a speed that she hadn't thought possible. Mixed feelings of happiness and hatred filled her being as she leapt from tree to tree and then fell to the ground in a run, dodging between them. The Devil was here! She had to kill it. There was no alternative.
She was close now, but there was a throbbing hum that filled the air up ahead and it began to hurt her sensitive ears. She stopped and threw off her helmet, letting it clatter among the roots of the trees. Rolling some earplugs she got out of her kit, Althea stuffed them into her ears. Everything became quiet as the earplugs expanded, fitting themselves to the shape of her ear canal. They would block out the harmful levels of sound while still letting her find the source of the noise.
Continuing towards her target, Althea saw the source of the noise. Sound waves began buffeting her body as she examined the tall, thin, whiplike pole. It stood on a small concrete pylon and emitted the low throbbing hum she now felt. Well, this throws off the hope of this Reality being uninhabited. Trying to close in on it, her body began to vibrate. Damn! she thought as she backed up. I have to get across. She would've preferred a quiet method, but time was of the essence.
Althea lifted her malaser rifle to her shoulder and mentally turned off the laser. A light in her vision let her know the weapon had fired the maser, shorting out the electronics in the sonic fence. The hum stopped and Althea nearly tore the earplugs out as she ran towards her target, thoughts of death filling her mind.
Catherine began to run the moment she caught Tamirindus' scent and her heat trail. The trail wasn't hard to follow, but it wandered as if she was in a daze. Oh my darling, she thought as she jumped a rock. What have your dreams done to you? She dodged a tree with ease as she sped along. A heat plume rose in the distance. Tamirindus?
No, it was much too large and the sonic fence was down! As she ran up she saw it: a huge, horrible thing out of a nightmare was hunkering over her lover. No! she thought as she pulled her pistol free of her holster.
A flash of light to her left stabbed out from the darkness to strike the thing in its stomach. It flailed around for a second and pitched backwards landing with a bone-jarring crunch! Tamirindus lay very still at its feet as a black garbed figure approached her. As the person examined her, Catherine ran up, holstering her weapon.
Not so tough as the training films say, Althea thought in hatred-pleasure. No, it had itself out, and the things are susceptible to microwaves. She looked down at the girl that the Devil had been menacing.
Tami? she thought in shock. No, it can't be her. Tami's a hallucination, this person is real. Confusion racked her mind.
Catherine reached them and knelt beside Tamirindus. A strange scent filled her nose over the decay scent of the thing. "Thank you," she began, looking at Tamirindus' savior for the first time. She was wearing flat black clothing that had regular bulges all over it and they moved like they were liquid. A single thick braid of white hair ran down her back, pulled away from her elfin ears. A nauseous wave of recognition washed over her. Gods, this can't be happening! "A..Althea?" she stammered.
Althea looked at the blond girl who had called her name and blinked back to reality. "Saaa," she answered as she pulled plastic quickties out of her pockets to loop them around Tami's wrists. No this can't be her, Althea thought to herself in delusion. I'll make her tell me that.
Catherine fell back to sit on her feet. NO way! This is TOO weird! She tried to use her transducer. There was no response, only a loud static burst. Catherine watched helplessly as Althea lifted Tamirindus onto her shoulders. With graceful movements, she tied Tamirindus to herself and began to run away at full speed towards the forest.
She stood there in shock for a second or two only able to watch the blur that was Althea speeding off. I couldn't catch her, she thought. Feeling her transducer come on line again she heard the school alarms going full tilt. No one was going to believe her. This was just too weird.
what's wrong catherine, Tom Felkin, the security director of the school asked as he picked up her signal near the fence perimeter.
tamirindus has been kidnapped, she thought.
what?! a pause. i can't pick up her transducer. what's happening out there?
Catherine looked at the dead thing at her feet. just come here. i'll try to explain, but i really don't know myself.
"Stupid fucking bitch!" Sergeant Danley swore for about the hundredth time in the last ten minutes. Of all the times for her to go nuts, why now?! Danley thought. He looked around the clearing, everything stark black and white through the low light visor. Johansen was sharing a cigarette with Benevidez while Delgood tried to seduce Kozachenko. Why not? he thought. She's got a good body, even if she is a dyke.
A flash of movement caught his eye and he turned just in time to see a blinding white flash hit Kozachenko in the face, vaporizing her head. The thunder crack of the plasma weapon filled his ears as he yelled. "Shit! We're under attack!" he screamed, firing his malaser off into the night, hitting a tree. The water in it boiled away to steam that struggled to escape from the rigid cells, making the tree explode like a grenade, tiny slivers of wood flying in all directions. Another flash/thunder crack and Johansen was down, his chest flying all over the clearing, the smell of cooked meat wafted. Delgood stood in openmouthed fascination at Kozachenko's headless corpse before another flash cut short his life.
No! Damn aborigines! he thought as they moved into the clearing quicker than any human could; his cybered reflexes only allowed him to compete at half their level. He targeted one in his shifting armor and felt satisfaction as his chest swelled slightly making him fall down. A scream came from his left. Benevidez, he thought bitterly. I'm the last, they'll try to capture me.
The Texan began firing his rifle in bursts as he backed up. "Damn you Althea!" he yelled. A plasma bolt glanced off the armor on his chest, knocking him flat. As hands reached for him, he triggered something deep inside his body. Damn you Althea… The cyberbomb shattered his spinal cord and the lower half of his brain killing him instantly.
Central Office, Archonal Palace
Archona
Domination of the Draka
Reality of Drakensis
May 8, 350th Year of the Final Society
0735 Hours
Archon Clarissa Strzock lifted the crystal snifter of warmed brandy to her lips taking a small sip. This is good, she thought. The spices and bite of the liquor were just right, making her feel slightly flushed. Her body would metabolize the alcohol quickly, leaving her with the taste and none of the after effects. She looked up at the heads of the three directorates standing in their uniform coveralls before her, they smelt of tightly controlled fear and excitement. She had expected that; this was weird and nothing much truly exciting had happened for over two hundred years. Her cold brown eyes focused upon Henri Colton, the Arch Strategos in charge of the Security Directorate in his green coveralls. "Henri, are yo' tellin' me that we've been, ah… invaded… by Nazis from another dimension?"
He shifted slightly, uncomfortable. "Yes, Ah am."
Nausea washed over her for a second before it subsided. "Give me everythin' so far."
He nodded and continued. "At sometime befo' three this mornin' a spaceship… fell… through to ouah dimension about fifty kay northwest of the M'keii Girls School. A rapid strike team headed by Centurion Radojevic secured the area and a prisoner. About half an hour later, somethin' else came in and Arch Strategos Whittington's" —he nodded at the head of the Military Directorate—"boys shot it down and asked us to pick up the wreckage. Then, as indicated by the prisoner, a rescue team appeared twenty-five minutes later. We tried to capture them, but they fought to the last man." He stopped suddenly as if he were uncomfortable.
"What is it you aren't tellin' me?" Clarissa asked calmly.
"It's… well… it's embarrassin' to say the least," he stammered, very un-Draka.
"Tell me," she growled, her eyes boring into his.
"Well, apparently somethin' else came in both times people showed up here. The first was a… uh… thing that attacked one of the students from the school, a Tamirindus Rohm. The second is a bioweapon that came in with the rescue team. She apparently bolted befo' we could intercept the team and she rescued, then kidnapped Miss Rohm." The scent of embarrassment filled the air as he looked at the Archon expressionless. The Draka's love of their children dated back to the late 1700's when it had been only a handful against the continent. Every child was precious to them as a Race.
"How did it manage that?" she asked, slightly annoyed. The sonic fences surrounding the schools stopped anything, even ghouloons, the eight-foot tall baboonlike transgene animals that they used for bodyguards and hunting animals.
"She apparently used a microwave weapon, like those found with the rest of the rescue team, to short out the circuitry of the fence temporarily. Had somethin' to make the sensors ignore her, but the alarms still went off." He paused rather uncomfortably. This was a major loss of face to the Security Directorate, whose job it was to prevent such things. "Miss Rohm's transducer is pro'bly bein' blocked by that same device. We've, ah, lost her.
"There's also the matter of the power armor we found, the thing that attacked Miss Rohm in the first place. The pris'ner can't identify it. We gave it ova' to Technical Directorate as requested, but no one can determine where it's from."
"There was a witness in the report," Clarissa said tapping a stack of papers marked in red; Destroy before reading stuff. That it was on paper at all instead of an electronic medium, showed how much they wanted it kept secret.
"Yes, a Catherine Hardegree, another student. She was somewhat incoherent at first, but we've been able to put things togetha', strange as they are." He looked at Clarissa, her eyebrows had gone up in a What could be stranger than this? look. "Apparently Miss Rohm's been dreamin' about this stuff; wrote it down. She thought it was all a fantasy, can't say that Ah blames her. It is weird.
"We're just now goin' through the piles of stuff in Miss Rohm's dorm room." He shook his head. "Freya, she's an accomplished artist. Tons of art in there. A lot of it matches what we've found on the ship and the soldiers." He let that sink in before continuing with a short miserable laugh. "Too bad we didn't know about all this. She'd've been one hell of a spy for us."
Another wave of nausea floated through her. Control it, you're the Archon, not some dumb serf! Deal with it! "Continue," she said calmly.
"There's a lot, and Ah mean a lot of artwork concerning one person in particular: Althea Ventricorum de Argus. Our kidnapping bioweapon herself." He produced a picture and handed it to the Archon in one fluid movement.
She looked at the picture closely. Almost lifelike, Althea sat naked on a backless couch brushing her hair. "Pretty thing," she said absently. "How do we know it's her?"
"Answered Miss Hardegree by name," he said flatly.
Sickness and confusion began creeping over her. "How?"
"We don't know yet, but… She is here and armed, running loose with one of ouah children," he said somewhat concerned.
"Yo' think she's dangerous then?" Clarissa inquired.
"At this point, yes. Definitely," he said. "She is a bioweapon, but Miss Hardegree mentioned that she may have been tamed somewhat by her contact with Miss Rohm."
She sighed, sipping her brandy again. "Can we capture her intact?" she asked David Whittington, the head of the War Directorate. His troops had taken control of the area by now.
He smiled at her, his timeless sharp-featured face typically Draka. His black coveralls accented his finely muscled body. "We'll get her. There's ovah three hundred soldiers out there, fifty ghouloons and a couple'a sets of power armor on back up. We've even got her scent, so she can't escape. All the orbital satellites are watchin' the area. If anythin' happens, we'll know it first." It was a classic Draka strategy, using sledgehammers to crack eggs. It worked, especially if you didn't care about the condition of the egg afterwards.
Three hundred soldiers to catch her?, she thought, slightly amused. Well, we haven't had anything like this since the last human hunts after the war. I'll let them have their fun. "Thank yo', Dave. Keep me informed. Ah would like to think that Ah have some control ovah events." Clarissa looked over at the head of Technical Directorate in her white coveralls, Jennifer Barnes. The blonde was smiling ear to ear in the way that Clarissa had found out meant she had found some new toys. The Archon wasn't a technophobe, but she didn't want to rely too heavily on machinery. The comp plague during the Final War showed how fatal an error like that might have been.
"Spit it out, Jenny. What new toys does Technical Directorate have for the Race?" Clarissa asked nonchalantly.
Jennifer smiled very predatorily at the Archon as she opened a file folder to place pictures in front of her. "That ship is one ugly ducklin', but gods can it dance." At Clarissa's raised eyebrows she continued. "It's comp system is nohow as sophisticated as any of ours, but it doesn't need ta be. It's built around a liquid crystal matrix that reconfigures its form according to the function you require. No embedded instructions on ROM, just open lattice work ready for programming. Only took it half an hour to reconfigure to our computer's input devices. Be a nightmare for Security purposes, though."
She sighed and ran her hand through her long blonde hair. "The damn thing's fifty years old, obsolete by anybody's standards, but it makes up for that with its flexibility. The previous owners were usin' it to run the engines and control jets on that thing." She ran her hand through her hair again in frustration. "The wench that Security so thoughtfully gave us told us that the core was Mechanese in origin." At Clarissa's look of confusion she elaborated. "That's where our little bioweapon is from. The wench didn't know much about the place, but said that everyone there is a bioweapon and that they were Loki on wheels in a fight. Helped win somethin' called the Sheehee War."
Jennifer looked at Dave out of the corner of her eye, giving her a foxlike appearance. "Maybe War Directorate bettah double their troop amounts. This little girl might eat what he has out there already," she said with a thinly disguised smile at his bristling. She turned back to the hard data when Clarissa gave her a no infighting here look. "Anyway, we're fairly certain that the ship came down because of that suit of armor we recovered at the M'keii school. We found regular burn marks all over one of the large cargo bays and in the engine compartment. They correspond to the width apart on the suit's weapons exactly."
Jennifer looked Clarissa straight in the eye. "That wench couldn't identify the armor at all, thought it was ours. After we got hold of it from Security we ran a few tests on it. The thing's hollow. No moving parts whatsoever. I can't explain it, but it's like something was living inside there and moving it with its mind. Just lookin' at it gives me a creepy feelin'. It's like the designers wanted it to look as disgustin' as possible." Probably have nightmares tonight, she thought, remembering the indescribably horrible feeling she got when she looked at it.
"The thing's made out of a carbon resin. Extremely weird stuff. We've been trying to move it, but it's very brittle right now," Jennifer smiled slightly. "We'll do carbon testing in a few hours, but I don't know if it'll survive it." Sensing the Archon's discomfort on the subject, she changed the topic.
"The ship uses a crude fusion powerplant to supply its energy needs. Don't worry, we've made certain that it wasn't leaking, so Conservation Directorate don't have to get their nuts in a tangle. What it was powering we couldn't figure out at first, but after talkin' to the wench for a while we found out that the thing used true antigravity engines." That got the Archon's attention. Their world had had magnetic repulsorlift for centuries, but antigravity was still a thing out of scientifiction stories.
Jennifer gave a small laugh: "That there wench is a trove of info'mation. She told us how to get the workin' ones out and their specifications. Says that they're an inefficient design built about a hundred years ago and she could build us some better ones if we gave her the time." She smiled wolfishly. "If all their population is like her, domesticatin' them ought to be fairly easy when we invade usin' that interdimensional Gate that she's gonna build us. We'll have it in a few years if we hurry it along."
"What else was there?" Clarissa asked, anxious to finish this session. New Earths to conquer! We can't even let the Samothracians suspect.
Jennifer mentally went down the manifest her people had compiled. From what Anja had said, this was a regular cargo run for the ship and it seemed likely that the hull was packed with as much as possible so the run could pay for itself. "Let's see. Clothing, food, computers, guns — they're old fashioned slug-throwers. Robot suits for construction — wench called them Labors — no controls in them, only a plug for 'cyber-interface.' Interdimensional radios." At Clarissa's raised eyebrows Jennifer quickly added, "Receivers only, no transmitters." She continued, "Movies, music recordin's and a whole lot of stuff no one can explain. Jewelry, gemstones, sticks, feathers and weirder stuff. They all have two things in common: they stink to high heavens and all of them do things."
Clarissa looked up at Jennifer, the head tech looked consternated. "What do yo' mean they 'do things?'" She asked somewhat unhappily. If the Head of Technical Directorate couldn't figure something out, it probably wasn't good.
"Well," she began. "One of the sticks shot a fireball out into the night when a tech pronounced the word engraved on its side." She looked at the Archon, underneath her calm exterior Jennifer could sense a growing sickness. "Another of the objects can clean anything by touching it and yet another functions as an air conditioner." She sighed heavily. "The wench says that they're magic. And I believe her. We can detect some sort of energy around them, but not what kind."
She looked at Clarissa very seriously. "Wench also says that there's worlds out there that use this stuff instead of technology. Eighteen years ago her nation fought a twenty-five year long war across the dimensions against the same people that Althea an' her people fought."
"We do have evidence from Miss Rohm's room to support that fact," Henri interjected smoothly. "All of the armor vehicle and power armor designs from the GmbH changed radically during the later stages of the war. They were fightin' somethin' that needed a lot of firepower to stop."
Magic? Godsdamn this is a bad day. "How's the ship?" she inquired.
Jennifer looked relieved to be off the subject. "It's tore up. We're salvaging the comp core, but not the controls. That shouldn't pose too much of a problem as the damn thing's already acceptin' input from our equipment. The large antigrav engines are a total loss, but the little ones used for maneuvering are salvageable. The fusion reactor'll have ta be scrapped. Got a surface-to-orbit craft on standby to take it out to orbit."
Clarissa sighed as if she had a headache. "Did any of yo' find out what their world is like?" she asked, pouring herself another brandy.
Henri smiled broadly. "Durin' ouah interrogation of the pris'ner we got some info'mation concernin' that. She said that the GmbH is an empire that spans fifty-four Earths, has a population of sixty five billion and is part of an interdimensional organization called the Storm League." He smiled again, sarcastically. "Ah don't think that it'd be such a good idea to poke ouah noses into that pile of shit just yet. Fortunately she says that most of the four thousand worlds explored have no sentient life on them. Her nation uses a lot of these worlds to strip-mine and deforest for use as raw materials. They don't dirty their own nest, just someone else's."
Clarissa stood up abruptly and put her right fist to her chest in a salute. "Glory to the Race!" she almost yelled in dismissal.
"Service to the State." The Directorate heads returned the salute and left the room.
She sat back down and rubbed her temples. This was almost too much for a three hundred and eighty year old woman to take. Gods, it was just so much to absorb at once. This was an opportunity undreamed of before. Her people had colonies on other star systems, but it was always a losing proposition. Nothing economic could be gained when the transit times were so long and no viable form of intersystem government could be formed. But here, in front of her, was an opportunity to found an interdimensional colony system that had been proved to be governable and profitable by the Germans, and they were only humans. Just think what the drakensis could do!
But they would have to be careful, for from the reports that she had read the Germans had been at this for almost two hundred years and they had already fought an interdimensional war and won. Caution would win out over impatience here. They would found a colony on an uninhabited world and build it up, making more as time went by.
A thought of pure evil crossed her mind. If we could keep this a secret from the Samothracians we could, no, we will be able to build a warship in another dimension, make the long journey to their world and attack it from the other dimension. The Final War would be finished once and for all. She smiled wolfishly to herself. Yes it would be possible, if they stayed away from the Storm League for a while.
She lifted her glass in the air and pretended to clink an imaginary one. "A toast to our new enemies, Der Sturm Liga," she chuckled to herself. This will be an interesting next couple of hundred years.
M'keii Parkland
Delendun Province, border of Apollionus and Ogun Districts
Domination of the Draka
Reality of Drakensis
May 8, 350th Year of the Final Society
0900 Hours
The cave was small, cramped and very cold, but it was well concealed. Althea had taken care to cover her tracks and use a scent neutralizing spray on her trail for the last kilometer or so. She had been at a loss when she had heard the sounds of plasma weapons in the distance as she carried her prisoner. I lost my men, she thought sadly. I failed my duty. Remorse racked her at the thought. She would have to return to the League base to face her unavoidable court martial for abandoning her men if she could.
Althea looked at the sleeping form of the girl who looked like Tamirindus. Her heart soared and burned at the same time. Could she really be her? I'll kill her, no, I'll love her. Conflicting feelings roiled beneath her calm exterior like fire making her leopard patterning stand out on her skin. She sat near the cave entrance clutching her knees to her breasts, watching Tamirindus sleep with rocklike patience. Taking a whiff of the cool cave air, Althea caught Tamirindus' scent over the damp stone and earth smell of the cave; sharp, yet soothing at the same time. It could lull her to sleep if she let it.
She was still exhausted from the push up to combat mode five. The combat modes upped her metabolism and burned huge amounts of calories and overworked all of the muscles in her body. You didn't feel it while fighting, but Mechanon, it hurt like hell afterwards. She'd been ravenous after finding the cave, her body crying for the spent nutrients. The wrappers of high-energy fruit bars lay stuffed in the crevices of the cave, their scent neutralized by the dirt over them.
She moved! Althea thought, her body unconsciously going to combat mode one. Now I'll have the truth, she thought grimly.
Tamirindus woke from her nightmare with a start. The searing pain that had been inside her head had disappeared. Got to inform someone! she thought, keying her transducer. Nothing. It felt like having been lobotomized, or like her dreams. Not even a signal from the navigation satellites. Her body was still in pain, so this couldn't be a dream. Her arms had been tied together from her elbows down to her wrists behind her back painfully and her legs were in the same predicament. She was lying on some sort of dirt covered stone, like a cave, her face pressing into it. Terror, then hatred flared inside her. Was that thing still around?! She calmed herself slowly. No, it's scent isn't here.
There was another scent, though. Slightly sharp, but muted. Pleasant like apples after you just take your first bite. She identified underlying feelings by scent; happiness, excitement, hatred, fear and love? She could also smell plastic and metal mixed with a faint bland fruit smell. Weapons? Food? Hunger hit her. Eating almost constantly was the price the Draka paid for having such hyped up metabolisms. She checked her transducer again. The computer function was still working; it was after nine a.m. on the eighth. She had missed her breakfast. Sophia was probably miserable; servus didn't adjust too well to sudden changes in their routines.
She heard a movement somewhere inside the cave. Judging by the direction, it was closest to where the air current was coming from. An animal? No, the scent was coming from it. A person then, not drakensis or servus! This was very interesting. She strained to look, her catlike eyes focusing in the dark. It was a woman wearing some of the strange gel filled armor that Althea had showed her. A woman with white hair, red eyes, and elfin ears to either side of a leopard patterned human face. Althea?! Nausea washed over her with fear and confusion almost making her retch. No! She's a dream! I made her! she screamed inside her head, pushing back the fear. A small squeak escaped her lips.
Althea was on her in an instant, moving with the same beautiful grace that she had always had. A hand clamped around her throat, not as strong as a Draka, but with enough force to cut off some of her air. Claws pricked the back and sides of her neck, drawing blood. Althea's face came into her vision, the same dispassionate look that she always wore, staring at her. The pleasant scent filled her nostrils, but was tinged with tightly controlled fear.
"Who are you!?" Althea hissed, knowing the answer already. She fought Tamirindus' calming scent with her fury.
Tamirindus calmed her expression, the lesson to never show fear had been well learned. "Tamirindus Rohm," she replied calmly and smiled at her captor. "Althea…" She was dropped, banging her head on the floor. Stars shot through her vision. Ouch! That hurt, she thought. Althea's mixed scent was very strong now, confusion intermingled with happiness and fear. This isn't a dream, she thought as a slight wave of nausea washed over her. She shifted slightly, her body moved enough so she could look at Althea. She was back in her previous position, but she was shivering, her eyes wide with either fear or excitement. Althea blinked back tears as she looked back at Tamirindus. Tamirindus saw waves of heat shimmering off her body as fright made her temperature rise.
Tamirindus let her dominance pheromones reach their peak as another, smaller wave of nausea hit her. If she's real, then it's all real, she thought. The Sky Hurricane, the Storm League and the Gates. Nausea again, but controlled. Alright, think before you talk. This may be Althea, but not like you've dealt with her before. She can hurt you. Her neck still ached slightly, but the pinprick wounds had healed already. The physical pain didn't hurt half as much as the humiliation. Draka were supposed to do this to ferals, not the other way around.
Her eyes watched Althea as the pheromones hit her, lowering her pulse and calming her. Good, good, let them do the hard work. She waited a few more minutes and then spoke in a soft reassuring voice: "It's alright, Althea. It's alright. Everythin' gonna be fine."
Althea looked up at Tamirindus, her skin getting darker and the scent of anger rising in the air. "No, it's not!" Althea yelled suddenly. She quieted down as she crept on all fours towards Tamirindus with her more than feline grace. "I'm stuck here on your stinking Reality. I lost my men rescuing you. I'll be court martialed, made a civilian. Someone without duties. A disgrace to my line. All because of you!" Althea growled in a low animal-like tone.
How dare she! Anger rose inside Tamirindus before she could control it. Whoa, girl, she thought. Althea's still feral and has weapons. Just get her to untie you and then you'll be on top holding the reins of this pretty pony. "Althea, why is it my fault?" she asked in a calming tone. "I'm sure fate brought you to me so I could take your lover's place." What bullshit! I hope she buys it. She smelt an undercurrent of happiness; All right! Then misery and hatred replaced the scent; Uh oh.
Althea's hand clamped over Tamirindus' mouth, trying to close it. "Shut up! Never talk about Mallik!!" Althea hissed at Tamirindus. She almost yelped when Tamirindus bit her fingers with force. "Giltesta!" Althea grabbed Tamirindus' jaw savagely and slammed her head against the cave floor repeatedly with meaty thuds. The blows would have pulped a human's head, but Tamirindus was only stunned. Althea pulled out a swath of tape from one of the many pockets on her uniform and covered Tamirindus' mouth. Suddenly she pulled back, clarity showing in her eyes.
What have I done? Althea thought in shock. I love her, but she wants to take Mallik's place. Lord Mechanon, what's happening to me? I'm so confused. She sniffed the air from where she crouched. She smells so nice, why am I fighting it? Althea looked away from her, hearing Tamirindus' struggle and trying to block it out. She's right. It's not her fault, Althea thought, miserably. I went after the Devil and I won. That had surprised her. The Devil was supposed to be the worst foe imaginable, but she had killed it with a single shot. Maybe it was weakened by what it did to her, she thought guiltily.
Althea mentally changed the subject. How to get back home? She thought. I have the Gate trigger here in my jacket, but there're a lot of people out there. She had noticed them sweeping by earlier in armor similar to hers in thickness, but it shifted colors like her old powersuit. Wish I had that now, she thought evilly. No, she wasn't here to kill these people, just to report back. "I need to fulfill my duty," she whispered to herself out loud. She heard Tamirindus stop struggling. "I have to report back to Command or die trying."
Althea did a crouching handstand, placing her feet against the cave's wall. She spider-walked over to Tamirindus until her face was besides the Draka's. "You confuse me Tami," Althea said clinically. "How is it that my hallucinations are real?" Her hand shot out, impossibly fast, a blur to Tamirindus, to tear off the tape.
"FUCK!!!" escaped Tamirindus' mouth when the pain hit her. Damn bitch is quicker than I thought; more sadistic too. Althea looked at her with almost pleading eyes. What does she want? Tamirindus thought furiously. She'd always needed direction before. Maybe that's what she wants. Hopefully the pheromones had done their work by now, it had been almost twenty minutes.
"Althea, let me go," Tamirindus said firmly. "I won't hurt yo'. After all, Ah own yo' heart an' soul." Althea blinked at her with a strange expression. With a start Tamirindus noticed that it was a very predatory smile. Althea righted herself slowly, with perfect grace and lifted Tamirindus to a sitting position. Glory be! She's going to do it! Tamirindus thought excitedly. Althea stopped moving Tamirindus as soon as she had her sitting on her feet. She knelt in front of her in the same position. Tamirindus smiled at her and Althea grinned back. Uh oh, a flash of danger went through Tamirindus. This is unusual behavior.
Althea replaced the tape on Tamirindus' mouth again. "Never. Tell. Me. What. To. Do," she said slowly, watching the joy in Tamirindus' eyes turn to shock, then anger as she said the words. Althea pulled her hand back and began slapping Tamirindus on both sides of her face. It was a deadly insult to a Draka, duels had been fought over less.
Tamirindus fell to the cave floor, eyes glowing in hatred as much as her cheeks stung. Althea looked at her and shook as if she had been hit when their eyes met. She backed against the wall of the cave and began to cry. Why did I do that? I didn't mind when she told me what to do before. I want to let her go, but she'll prevent me from doing my duty. She stopped. Duty. Must focus on my duty. Forget her. No don't. Yes, forget her. I can come back for her later. The coordinates are in the Gate and she's proof that I'm not crazy. I'll never go back to NewHome if I drag her along. Duty/Honor Fulfill my duty… The thoughts warred in her mind.
Althea moved behind Tamirindus. What the hell is she doing now? Tamirindus thought peevishly. An athletic hand touched her neck, pushing, testing for resistance. Althea's hands ran along her arms doing the same, stopping at the pressure points and muscle anchor points. She's feeling me up? she thought almost laughingly. No, the touches were too precise. She's determining my muscle structure, trying to find weak spots.
Althea backed away and unclipped a small, black box off her belt and shoved it in a crevice near the roof of the cave. She moved towards the entrance and picked up a gunbelt. Tamirindus noticed with a flash of anger that it was hers. Did I expect her to leave me with it? she thought in mild reproach to herself. Althea sat next to her and began to take her clothes off. First the boots with their old-fashioned quick-tie shoelaces then her armor jacket and pants.
Althea's apple scent hit Tamirindus full on. The armor had held the bulk of her scent in, letting out only a small bit of it. Tamirindus looked at her, she was dressed in only a black tank top, black panties and socks. All were made of the same material, cotton. Funny, Tamirindus thought. She's more attractive with her clothes on. Probably comes from seeing her naked every night.
The biofem began turning her clothes inside out, revealing a camouflage patterning on the inside matching the outside flora. She pulled out a small aerosol can and sprayed the fabric. A zone of no scent hit Tamirindus like a wave, burning her sensitive nose. A scent neutralizer, she thought. Smart, but they'll find her… I hope.
Dressing quickly, Althea put on both hers and Tamirindus' gunbelts. She crawled towards Tamirindus and put her nose next to her cheek. Inhaling deeply, Althea almost swooned, caught up in the scent. Nice smell, good perfume. I like it just because you wear it. Althea's hair brushed Tamirindus' face with its silky touch. She kissed Tamirindus on her cheek and coppery hair. "Recon, love," Althea whispered in her ear before ghosting out the cave's entrance.
'Love'? Tamirindus thought. Maybe she is under my control, but I haven't found the key. Damn! She growled under the tape and began to chew it. The sharp taste of metal filled her mouth as she nipped one of the wires in the tape. Ouch! The taste gave her whole mouth something to cringe about. Oooooh! Just you wait until I have you like this, Althea. You just wait!
She sighed. At least her pheromones were working at a limited capacity, the kiss and calling her 'love' were confirmation of that. Maybe I'm doing it wrong? she thought and turned up her sexual pheromones. If they didn't capture her out there, she would have her here.
If I manage to pull this off, it'll be one hell of a feather in my cap, Tamirindus thought happily. Captured while unconscious, Tamirindus Rohm manages to subdue the deadly feral serf even while tied up, she imagined the headlines saying. No, this'd be too sensitive to let out on the Web, the Samothracians would find out eventually. Not that they'd be able to do anything about it. The Domination regularly ignored anything the Samothracians said except for some technical data that they could use.
Ah, well. Maybe I'll end up with her after this is all over. The thought of making Althea lie down and play pony for her gave Tamirindus a feeling of satisfaction that she hadn't felt before. A feeling of power and mastery, a good feeling. She began to think of ways to use the weapons at hand, her pheromones and her voice.
Althea moved through the dense forest like a jungle cat, silently keeping to the trees, only running on the ground when necessary. Her combat computer targeted several chameleon camouflaged troopers moving in the forest in search patterns. AVOID THEM it suggested helpfully, with its graphic display giving her possible routes. She chose a roundabout route that would skirt the area.
Reaching out to grip a branch, her vision blurred, causing her to slip. She froze as several of the troopers looked around. A snake coiled out of a nearby tree, landed on the ground and slithered away, saving her. The troopers moved away with catlike grace. I don't want to fight them, she thought watching them. She immediately rejected the thought as non-productive to her mission. It's my duty to the League to report back. If that entails dying so be it. After all it's what I was built for. Had the few hours here changed her that much? No, now that she had something to look forward to other than dying, she didn't relish her end all that much. She scanned the area again. Troop strength was high, but she could make it. Now, if only Tamirindus would come with her.
Leaping out of the tree to land lightly on the ground with machinelike precision, Althea noticed that her displays from her liquid crystal computer were becoming somewhat dim, not dangerously so, but enough to make her worry. She checked her nutrient levels. The graphic showed that she was slightly dehydrated. True enough, she hadn't drunk anything since her last canteen of water five hours ago. She had been too preoccupied to turn on the water conservation mode in her metabolism and she'd peed away the liquid over two hours ago.
If she didn't get some water soon and go into the conservation mode, her computer would start to take some of the liquid from her blood to supply it. Stupid design, she thought. I should've gotten retrofitted with one of the newer models before I left Mechanon. After all, the gene therapy to update her only took two or three weeks to take hold and then her offspring would've had the same traits.
She sniffed the air as she silently climbed another tree. Ah, good, water. This area was geographically similar to her own, a stream should be about half a kilometer to the west. Hopefully she could get there without being noticed. Rain forest gave way abruptly to light scrub then a meadow before the blue of the stream. Althea searched the area thoroughly with her eyes before venturing out into the open. She ran low to the ground, stopping at berry bushes frequently to stuff her mouth. Staying at the higher combat modes required almost constant eating, another of her design flaws.
She ducked back into the brush, lying flat the few times troops came near, narrowly avoiding capture. Finally, she sighted the stream, a blue ribbon of chuckling water fringed by the purple blossoms of lupins, a large leafy tree stood on one of the banks. That would be her destination. A flower-covered meadow of tall grass was between her and the tree.
She looked about, making sure no one was around before she went to her belly and leopard crawled the remaining distance. She left no trail in the grass. Fifty years as a recon unit had taught her some tricks. She reached the tree shortly and stared up into its branches. She let her targeting computer determine whether it would hide her. YES, it answered after a moment.
She leapt into the tree with a simple flexing of her legs. Clutching the branches with her strong fingers, Althea climbed out over the stream. She pulled a small black canteen out of her left forage pocket and tied a thin black string to it. She twisted off the cap and prepared to lower it into the water.
She let it fall into the water with a small plopping sound; no more than that of a jumping fish. She waited until it had sunk near the bottom before slowly pulling it back up to her. A quick twist shut the cap. Turning the canteen over, Althea pressed the small black button on the bottom of the container. That let a quick burst of high intensity ultraviolet light kill any microorganisms that might be living in it. Her immune system could take care of any diseases that she might catch, but why let it do the work when you had gadgets like this?
She climbed back towards the land side of the tree and locked her legs on a branch. She began to strip leaves off the branches and stuff them into her mouth, chewing them slowly to let her computer tell her of any toxins that might be lurking in them. NONE. She opened her canteen and took a drink of the water washing down the leaves. The taste, if it had mattered to her at all, was slightly flat; small particles of plant and animal debris gave it a gritty texture. The taste of wilderness, she thought. Whoever had come up with using a mountain stream as a symbol of pure water had been the biggest liar since Wang Hei Mei Lung. He had promised that elves would rule the multiverse — and they had believed him.
Feeling satisfied, Althea dropped out of her combat mode to enjoy the sensation of the dappled sun on her face and the sound and smells of the water. She paused in her eating after catching a new scent on the air. It was sharp and musty. She ran a chemical analysis on it. MONKEY. POSSIBLY BABOON, flashed across her vision. A baboon? Well this is Afrika. She ignored it as irrelevant and went back to eating. She'd have enough time for hunting after this was all over.
The scent was very strong now. What is it trying to do, mate with me? she thought angrily as she turned around to stare into the face of a ghouloon standing five feet away. Its small dark brown eyes stared at her in wonder. It hooted softly as it reached for her.
Althea clung to the branch for a few seconds in shock before triggering combat mode four and leaping at it. The claws of her left hand sunk into its face tearing flesh and catching on bone. Using her momentum and grip on the ghouloon's skull Althea whipped around to land with her knees against its back. She unholstered Tamirindus' pistol and shoved it against the back of the thing's skull.
"Urrrrr! Gollog kill!" it growled, reaching up impossibly quick to grab her left arm in its machine strength grip and threw her off to land in the meadow.
Althea landed on her feet in a crouch, her left arm hanging limp and useless. Medical information scrolled in her vision. Pain Level three!? she thought, worried. This must be pretty bad. Thank Mechanon for putting a pain editor in her genetics, otherwise she'd be writhing in the grass in pain. The tiny organ that was controlled by her computer would release a huge amount of organic chemical blockers whenever it detected trauma, keeping her combat effective. The downside was that she lost almost all tactile sense over her body. It was rather like being numb all over. Damn, this'll take a week to heal at least!
"Grrrrraaalllll!" it snarled, grabbing the bleeding ruin of its face. Its black hand covered with short red fur and small leopard spots came away from its face dripping with blood. It fumbled desperately to grab its large rifle.
The uniform it wore was a thickly quilted fabric similar to Tamirindus' tunic; it almost matched the background perfectly. If it hadn't been for Althea's combat computer and the ghouloon's exposed head she probably wouldn't even have seen it. Its helmet was on its belt, probably against regulations.
Weapons? Uniform? This thing's intelligent? Althea thought as her hand whipped around of its own accord and pulled the trigger of Tamirindus' pistol. The thunderclap of the plasma beam shook the air, making the ghouloon's head snap back in a gout of flame. Everyone must've heard that! Got to run and hide! No, I'll leave a false trail.
Quickly, Althea ran up to the ghouloon, putting the pistol away in its holster and pulling out Tamirindus' layer knife that was near it. Looking at the charbroiled mess that was the ghouloon's head to make sure it was dead, Althea stepped on the ghouloon's forearm.
Using her foot as a brace, she sliced the arm off at the elbow, feeling the resistance of the bone as the monofilament blade bit into it. She pushed a little harder and the blade cut through. The stink of blood was heavy in the air, it's sickly aroma bringing the feeling of satisfaction of defeating an opponent to the biofem. Good knife, she thought in admiration. Have to figure out how these are made.
She stripped the thick cloth off the arm with a quick motion and put it on the ground using the knife to cut it lengthwise. Althea gingerly placed her crushed arm in it and tied the ends together behind her neck. A perfect sling. A noise in the distance made her hurry, grabbing the arm and throwing it over her back, ghouloon blood pouring down her back and legs. She ran with quick strides, letting the blood make a trail.
Decurion Kimberly Byers had briefed her ghouloons very thoroughly with their orders: Capture, only kill the target if capture seems unachievable. Now as she stood over the mutilated corpse of Gollog, Kimberly was questioning the logic behind the orders. Everyone had heard and detected the plasma discharge and several spinners were even now searching the surrounding area. Gollog had been her favorite, the most intelligent of the troop, almost as treasured as her servus Charles.
"Damn that thing!" she hissed vehemently, sniffing the air for a scent. It was faint now —Human mixed with apples?— but it was one that she could follow. The wench had taken Gollog's arm to make a false trail most probably, the only thing to do now was follow it. "Smart little bitch," Kimberly muttered while listening to the angry hoots and growls of the other ghouloons with her.
jim, i got the scent, and i'm following it, she thought into her transducer.
There was a slight pause as he thought. got it, kim. we'll vector in some more spinners and the power armor. don't you let those monkeys of yours eat it now. we need it alive; still can't find that rohm kid.
understood, she answered. "Alive, huh?" she muttered. "Didn't say in what condition, eh, Vallen? Snarguhl?" The two ghouloons whooped and beat their chests in ferocious acknowledgment. Kimberly smiled. This would be fun. Maybe even live up to one of those Human-Hunt stories her grandmother always went on about. Here kitty, kitty…
They're after me! Althea thought, running through the dense forest, hearing the sounds of whisper-quiet hovering aircraft. She pressed a small button on her uniform and it changed temperature to match the air's. Why didn't I think of this before? Because I've been with the League too long; I'm out of shape and doing stupid things. Maybe Human Stupidity is contagious, she thought as she hopped over a small bush.
Althea's reflexes mistakenly prompted her to use her left arm as a balance and she fell, rolling on the ground. "De Buran!" she cursed, freezing as a hover unit came nearby. She got up and ran again, carefully editing out the use of her left arm in further combat tactics.
Finally, she stopped under a rock outcropping. She lay the ghouloon arm down in front of her and fished out the plasma pistol. She tossed it into the underbrush. Useless piece of noisy trash! Althea cursed to herself. She looked at the arm again and her stomach growled. Damn hunger defect. Always have to eat after a fight. Thank Mechanon that He put a limit on the amount of fat percentage our bodies can have otherwise I'd look like a blimp.
She dipped a finger into the blood on her back and tasted it. ORGANIC. NON-TOXIC. EDIBLE, her computer told her. The taste wasn't too bad, just a little gamy. Althea took out her own knife and sliced off several pieces of meat and shoved them into her mouth, almost forgetting to chew them. The ghouloon's blood was thick on her chin and the fingers of her right hand as she finished. Taking out a rag, Althea cleaned herself as best she could then sprayed herself with the rest of the contents of the scent neutralizer. Hopefully, that would buy her time enough to reach the cave. She ran back into the forest at her full speed.
Tamirindus had just determined that the little black box Althea had left was jamming her transducer. She'd worked her way upright and was trying to knock it down when Althea burst through the cave's entrance. Tamirindus slipped and fell, landing hard on her bottom. Ouch! She rolled over to look at the biofem.
Althea was breathing raggedly and her eyes were wide in shock. Her left arm hung in a sling made of a bloodied Draka uniform and traces of — she sniffed the air — ghouloon blood were on her hand and mouth. A slight tug on her heart happened as she saw her, but she quickly submerged it. I should've protected her… No, she's feral and she did it to herself. She'll have to learn to obey before I give her my protection.
Althea's breathing had become less ragged as she sat down next to Tamirindus. The shock was wearing off, letting her pupils constrict to normal. Tamirindus let her pheromones reach their height now, as Althea scooted closer. Come on wench, suck them in, she thought.
"Your monkey soldiers fight well," Althea said, putting her good hand on Tamirindus' shoulder.
Tamirindus scented ghouloon blood on Althea and saw traces of it still smeared on her face. She ate a ghouloon? Disgusting, They're pets, not cattle, she thought, a slight shiver running down her spine. No, that's not fair, I'd eat a servus if I were starving, but still…
Althea lifted Tamirindus into a sitting position facing away from her and she moved close, smelling Tamirindus' neck. Tamirindus felt a kiss on the coppery red hair behind her right ear as Althea wrapped her arm around to take off the gag gently. Good wench, she thought in pleasure. The pheromones were working.
Althea's lips came to her ear. "Come with me," Althea whispered in German. "Civilian life after the court martial will be boring. I need you."
Tamirindus' heart leapt at those words, but she couldn't go. Her duty to the Race was clear. "No, Althea, Ah can't go," she said. "Stay here, Ah'll keep yo' at mah folks house in New Virconium. Ah can't promise nothin' 'cept yo'll be well kept."
"My duty…" Althea trailed off and Tamirindus felt the biofem's pulse quicken.
"Can be to me," Tamirindus interjected smoothly. "Fo'get 'bout that othah life. Yo' got me now, don't need nothin' else," Tamirindus said in a quiet soothing voice. She had often used the tone to calm Sophia during thunderstorms.
"I… I…" Althea stammered, clearly having doubts about her duty now.
Come on wench, surrender to me, Tamirindus thought, tasting victory.
Althea pulled away. Her mind was clouded. I can't think. Tami is so nice, she thought. She just wants to take care of me. But my duty, she wants me to ignore it. Althea shook her head to clear it. Duty or love, it was a hard decision. Love would mean that she'd stay here, with Tami and be happy, but leave her nation in the lurch. They might send a bigger force with more firepower.
This could start a war, she thought. The imagined sight of Tamirindus' broken and bleeding body was almost too much for her to bear. No, there's no decision here, Althea thought soberly. Love would have to be served by duty. I'll save her life if it means my own. She sighed. Besides, if she stayed in this cave much longer they'd find her anyway and then she'd never fulfill her duty. Time to leave, she thought regretfully.
"Althea, let me go. Ah'll make sure yo're treated alright," Tamirindus continued.
"I can't, Tami. I can't," Althea said almost crying.
Tamirindus heard the metallic scrape of a knife being pulled from it's sheath. She twisted to see what Althea was doing and saw the woman holding the knife in a throwing position. Aw shit, Tamirindus thought. What a way to go. Knifed in the back by a serf. Althea threw the knife and Tamirindus braced herself to receive the blow that never came. The knife landed with a thump in the dirt next to her on the cave floor. She looked up at Althea.
The biofem smiled with perfect white teeth, looking radiant even with her broken arm, her white hair stark against the darkness of the cave. "Have a good life, Tamirindus Rohm. You have escaped," she said quietly as she turned and fled out the cave.
At least the wench saved my dignity somewhat, Tamirindus thought as she awkwardly gripped the knife in her hands to cut the first of the plastic ties. I hope that she doesn't go off and get herself killed, Tamirindus thought with a twinge of regret. Those kisses had felt awfully nice, be a shame to lose such a pretty pony.
The trail was cold. Kimberly tossed the nondescript can of scent neutralizer in the air and caught it with a lightning quick snap of her wrist. It wasn't enough that the wench killed and mutilated Gollog, she'd had to eat part of him too. A slightly sickening feeling ran through her. It's not cannibalism, she thought. But, I'll be damned if I approve of it. She walked slowly with Vallen and Snarguhl.
Vallen whooped suddenly and pointed. "Got scent," it declared.
"Good boy, Vallen," Kimberly said, petting him on the neck. "Follow it!" she hissed and the ghouloon complied. They followed the scent on and off for ten minutes as it wound through the forest towards some low tree covered hills. Damn, she's tricky, Kimberly thought with a hunter's admiration. The wench had stuck to the trees mostly, only dropping to the ground when completely necessary. Almost like one of those jungle cats, but smarter, she thought. She caught a flash of movement out of the corner of her eye.
Kimberly turned her eyes, keeping her body completely rigid. The wench was slowly winding her way through the tall grass in a meadow, hardly making any noise. She studied her for a second. No heat trace! she thought in surprise. Not bad, but her camouflage doesn't change to the background like ours.
The wench pulled herself into some trees quickly and was gone from sight. She's having difficulty moving, probably Gollog's doing… Good. Kimberly keyed her transducer, contact. target has no heat signature and is moving in the trees towards skirmish site.
received, someone thought. spinner's on it's way, track her on foot.
a.k., she thought, beginning to follow.
Althea hopped from tree to tree slowly, the injury to her arm was slowing her considerably. Have to get me some cyber-limbs when I get back, she thought miserably as she almost slipped again. Have to take this to the ground soon to get some speed.
TARGETS FOLLOWING TO THE REAR LEFT, her computer bleeped at her. Althea slipped and smacked her chin on a branch. Damn, I'm getting exhausted. The combat modes were only intended for a few minutes use during the heat of battle. The Mechanese usually relied on their weapons and armor to take up the slack in the meantime.
Having used the combat modes for the last twenty minutes, Althea felt her reserves of fat being drained away for energy. After that, it would be her muscles, then her body would turn off in an attempt to save itself. Have to hurry this along or I'll fail!
She dropped to the ground and unslung her malaser rifle from her back as she ran, picking up speed and dodging trees. Now it hung from around her neck to rest on her right hip, the perfect place to grab when she needed it.
Movement to her right. Targeting crosshairs fell on it and identified it. HUMANOID MOVING 80% THIS UNIT'S MAXIMUM SPEED. Althea lifted her rifle and pulled the trigger, playing the silent beam all over the target. NIL PENETRATION, the idiot voice sang at her. Just as I thought, tough armor.
A thunderclap shook the air as her target fired back. Somersaulting in the air, Althea dodged it easily. They're herding me, she thought. That shot wasn't meant to hit. She aimed the rifle at a tree slightly ahead of her target's path and mentally switched all of the power to the maser, leaving the laser useless. She pulled the trigger and the tree exploded, knocking her target down. Better than grenades, she thought happily.
She ran to her right through the gap the downed soldier provided. Althea hopped over him. Still alive? she thought. Blood was pouring out of wounds filled with wooden skewers that had gone through his armor. Oh, well. Kills aren't my objective today. Reporting in is. Movement was all around her. They're trying to close a circle, Althea thought as she began to run in a zigzag pattern between the trees.
She sensed someone directly behind her, reaching for her streaming braid of white hair. She checked her current speed, 65 KPH, and leapt, her body now airborne. She flipped end over end and rebounded off the tree in front of her to launch herself at the target. A rifle came up in slow motion as Althea shot past and used her target as a springboard to change direction.
More thunderclaps and blue-white lights of plasma discharge filled the air. Althea dodged and leapt as the forest caught fire all around her. A soft ping: SURROUNDED. TARGET ACQUISITION, LEFT 6M WEAK SPOT IN CIRCLE. She twisted her body in midair and rebounded off several trees, gaining speed as she did so then leapt at the target, a female. Althea's boot snapped out and hit her target in the head as another plasma bolt shot by, barely missing her. She landed at a run before the woman's body hit the ground.
Shouts, then movement, behind her. Following me again? The rifle went over her shoulder, the cybersight in the rifle seeing for her. Trees exploded, filling the air with deadly shards of flying wood and the trunks of the trees slowly falling down to crush anything under them. Althea picked up speed, exulting in her combat rush.
A flash of light and she twisted sideways, almost colliding with a tree. Damage reports and a burning smell reached her at the same time, a plasma bolt had glanced off her armor and had burned her. She glanced down at her belly past her crushed arm and saw scorch marks and large whitish gray splashes of hardened gel. The shot must've cooked off all the liquid in the gel. Don't get hit!
An inner sense made her change direction. The Gate! She ran with all her might towards the clearing only seventy meters away. Sixty. Fifty. COMBAT MODE 3 flashed in her vision and she felt her body slow down. What?! NO! Althea tripped on a root and slammed her face into the ground. Not now! she wailed mentally as she got up.
A flash of light and she threw herself into the air and towards her left. Althea landed hard among a small group of boulders, the clearing visible between two of them. Crack! the boulder shook. Althea picked up a rock and threw it up over the boulder. Instantly, two plasma beams blew it to oblivion, the molten ball flying off to set a small fire.
Mission! Failing. Can't. Fail. Get up! Althea's mind was a jumble of thoughts as she tried to pick herself up. PAIN LEVEL 6. HIP BROKEN. MOVEMENT NOT POSSIBLE, her computer flashed at her. I failed!!! "NO!" she screamed, piercing the silence. All movement around her stopped, then quiet voices.
"Think we got 'er?"
"Nah, Cass. Chuck a grenade in there jus' ta be sure."
"Chuck a grenade up yo' arse, Kirt. That bitch kicked me. Ah wants her ta be alive when Ah gets her."
Althea felt her body slow down as it involuntarily dropped to combat mode two. She began to shake. No, I can't fail now. I'm so close. She picked up a handful of rocks and threw them over the top of the boulder. Lights flashed and rocks died. I have to succeed. I have to!!
"Ah think that it's outta ammo," Kirt Jensen said as he got up to walk.
Cassie Herron pulled him back down. "Mebbeso, Kirt, but yo' heard what it did ta that ghouloon. Yo' wants ta be 'et too?"
"Nah, it's mad now we got it corner…"
A black shape loomed over the boulder at them and the two Draka expertly shot it. The burning, empty jacket fell to the forest floor setting several smaller fires. A green flash off to their right and the sound of a sudden vacuum startled them. They turned just in time to be splashed with a mild misting of water.
"Shitfire!" Kirt yelled. "We lost the bitch!" He jumped up in anger.
Cassie waved her hand at him. "Shut up!" she said harshly. Kirt flipped her off, but was quiet. He listened for a few seconds before he heard it: quick shallow breathing and a skittering heartbeat.
Althea lay behind the boulders shivering. The ruse had worked. She'd thrown the Gate recall stick as hard as she could in the few seconds that she had pushed her body back up to combat mode four to complete her mission. The quickly scrawled attached note had said this: REALITY HAS HOSTILE ABORIGINES. VINCE MAGRUDER TOTAL LOSS. NO SURVIVORS OF SHIP OR MY TEAM. QUARANTINE REALITY. LT. AVdA SLSF.
She looked up, only dressed in her pants and her sweat stained tank top, and waited for the inevitable rifle shot to the head that would end her life. I pushed it too hard, Althea thought. Nothing's working. Even her computer had shut down and she felt as weak as a baby. Her pain blocker was beginning to run out of it's chemicals. Everything would hurt soon, hurt badly.
Two figures in their shifting chameleon armor with large plasma rifles strode up to her with smooth feline movements. I can't do that now, she thought absently. They closed in on her, rifles pointed at her chest.
"Shit, Cassie. Thissun is what gave yo' alla trouble?" Kirt said looking at Althea as she lay there shivering, her eyes wide in shock. "Ah gots servus that're fiercer than her."
The woman looked at her companion with a frown. "Shut up, boy. She sayin' somethin'" Cassie put her finger up to her lips. "It's Talk," she said surprised.
In a papery thin voice Althea repeated what she had just said: "I am Althea Ventricorum de Argus. My duty is fulfilled. Kill me." Strong hands reached down and picked her up as she passed out.
Central Office, Archonal Palace
Archona
Domination of the Draka
Reality of Drakensis
May 17, 350th Year of the Final Society
"Ouah biggest problem in this pie will probably be the Federacy," Henri said, forcing a smile. "They're like us, but use transgene animals for serfs. Destroyed they whole planet for human equality. It's nothin' but a wasteland now." He sighed. "Those buggers got some weird dream of making everyone equal. Leastways humans. Ouah little wench, Althea, says that they joined that Sheehee war just 'cause the Elves kept human serfs. Says they would have a bigger hard on for us than the Samothracians.
"Prob'ly kill ouah planet with some antimatter bombs they'd chuck in through a Gate. Evil parody of us. We'll kill yo' government, but not the people, but iff'n the Fed'racy figures out that everythin's bio-engineered for a caste society they'll kill everybody and the planet, just to make sure. Nasty bastards."
Clarissa sighed. This was a stumbling block to her plan. "Are they modified like us or just human?"
He smiled from the plush red leather chair he was sitting in. "Wench says they're human, but highly resistant to radiation and biologicals. Also equip their men with powersuits. Understandable, since going outside on their world means takin' five hundred rads a minute. One of theirs, if the wench can be believed, could take out two of ouah's. She also said that she once saw a propaganda film starring the Federacy Fusion Grenadiers. They use micro-nuclear weapons on the battlefield!" He looked weary. The Draka had always seen themselves as caretakers of the planet and all its inhabitants, war like this was just such an anathema to them that words couldn't describe their feelings.
Clarissa looked around the ancient room at the mahogany and marula wood furniture, books that were over five hundred years old in their elegant cases and ancient tribal weapons from the first serfs. "Who else do we have to look out for? Any other nutcases like them?" she asked in a nervous chuckle.
"No, she says that the Japs'll be nasty towards us cause we're not oriental. Texas is anti-slavery, but both of them are pussies in the scheme of things. Said her world would be very interested in us for genetic harvesting," he said with a complete look of disgust. "Her world's only interested in our genetics. If they found us, they'd try to raid us and kill as many drakensis as possible so they could take our reproductive organs to add to their gene pool."
"Nice people." Clarissa swallowed dryly. "Anythin' else, Henri?"
"Everythin's in mah repo't, but Ah suggest one thing."
"What's that?" she asked.
"Let's keep hidden until we figure out a way to take care of the Federacy. Ah don't want to look out of mah window one mornin' ta see they red armored soldiers killin' mah land."
"Service," she said, saluting him.
He stiffened and returned the salute. "Glory."
As he left the room. Clarissa keyed her transducer, jennifer, come here.
yes ma'am, came the head of Technical Directorate's reply.
The huge oaken door swung open soundlessly on oiled brass hinges, admitting Jennifer Barnes. As the white clad woman shut the door Clarissa got up and smiled at her.
"Service," Jennifer said, she looked quite haggard for a Draka.
"Glory," Clarissa replied motioning for Jennifer to sit down in one of the marula wood and leather chairs. As she did Clarissa got two snifters out of her desk. "Drink?" she asked.
Jennifer looked up, "Thank yo'. Ah think Ah should."
"That bad?" The Archon asked, her beautiful sharp face stony as the reddish brown liquid flowed from the bottle to the snifters.
"Not really, but gods is this a lot to choke down at once," she said handing Clarissa a small sheaf of papers and a data chip.
Clarissa leafed through the papers, stopping to glance at each one for a few seconds each, reading them. She put the papers down and looked at Jennifer. "What is she?" she said nonchalantly.
"Base stock human, but she's been modified more heavily than us, only in different ways. She's built for speed, but that's only a tempo'rary advantage. Last's maybe ten minutes, then she turns off. Like a cheetah, burst of energy then nothin'. Othah then that she's got that armor skin an' cyber computer that're in her genetic code." She laughed. "Says that she's obsolete, should've been upgraded a long time ago. Thinks she's a machine. Suits ouah purposes jus' fine.
"Her joint and muscle systems were designed to accent her being graceful an' catlike. Moves like our top gymnasts when she's not tryin'." A sigh. "One hell of a dancer." At Clarissa's raised eyebrows she elaborated. "Showed her one of the high energy dance videos an' asked her to repeat it as an experiment. She copied everything precisely an' added her own moves." She smiled and got back to the business at hand. "Everythin's reproducible for us, we've even got some of her ova to play with if we get the time."
Clarissa smiled. Maybe the Race would have a Janissary unit comprised of these women. Sure scare the hell out of the Samothracians when they came through the Gates to attack their capitols. "What's her lifespan, an' do yo' think that she'll adjust well?"
"'Round 'bouts three hundred years. We could upgrade it to infinity with only one little tweak, but Ah don't that would be in the Race's best interest." She smiled wolfishly. "As fo' her loyalties, well, she's a very practical wench. Asked right out what her new duties were and how she could serve us."
"Really? Now that is something," Clarissa said, quite pleased. "Hopefully the rest of them are like her. It'll make it easier to domesticate them."
"Well, Ah think that maybe it's her that's practical or maybe jus' her race. Said that she was a slave before, so this can't be much different."
"Befo'? But Ah thought she was a soldier."
"Mo' like a Janissary. Born to fight an' die in a war against the Devil, which is what that armor thing is, by the way. Besides, the transducer's got the pain/pleasure circuits in it if she goes haywire or gets any ideas of independence."
"Demonstrate it to her yet?" Clarissa asked very wolfishly.
"No, didn't have to. Wench triggered it herself tryin' ta figure it out. Almost fried her brain, said she'll Nevah do it again. Can't say Ah blames her."
"About that satellite that appeared," Clarissa said changing the subject. "What's it broadcastin'?"
Jennifer smiled. "Somethin' ta help us in the long run. It's an idiot message warnin' everythin' an' everybody ta stay the hell out of ouah Reality. Nice of them ta give us some time to build up ouah forces an' get us some worlds as stagin' grounds."
"Anythin' else?" Clarissa said, swallowing the rest of her brandy.
"Gate opened up 'bout two days ago to drop a whole lot of crap into Security's hands. Seems that it's a burial at sea for their men. We kept all the books, but gave the other stuff as compensation to Miss Rohm for the inconvenience." She smiled broadly. "Nice to see Security eat humble pie once in a while. Especially when it benefits my Directorate."
"Did they give Miss Rohm the other compensation?" Clarissa asked, already knowing the answer.
Jennifer smiled broadly. "Yes they did. They was so embarrassed that they practically stumbled over theyselves doin' it. Poetic Justice." Both her and the Archon shared an evil chuckle.
M'keii Girls School
Delendun Province, Apollionius District
Domination of the Draka
Reality of Drakensis
June 23, 351st Year of the Final Society
Tamirindus flopped down on the feather bed, sweat beading on her brow after the sparring match. She was dressed in her exercise tunic and running shoes. Godsdamn that hurt, she thought, exhausted. Feels good though. No one has a better sparring partner than me. She smiled as Althea came in the door carrying Tamirindus' sparring gear and her extra clothes. The serf laid it down near the closet and began to put everything in its place in a careful manner, her leopard spots were dark against her tawny skin.
"Althea?" Tamirindus said with a slight smile on her lips.
"Yes, Mistis?" she asked, putting away the practice sword next to one of monocrysteel.
"Let Sophia finish that," the Draka said, her voice getting husky. "Come to bed and give me a backrub. Yo' hit a little too hard in that practice round, gots me a cramp."
"Sorry, Mistis. I won't do it again," Althea replied, getting on the bed and taking off Tamirindus' shirt.
"Don't be sorry, Althea. Yo' jus' doin' what Ah told yo' to do. Ah that's good. A little to the left." The Draka girl leaned back onto Althea's stomach as the new serf massaged her carefully. "Yo' happy here, Althea?"
Althea stiffened almost imperceptibly. "Yes, Mistis Tami, I am," she said after a second.
"Good wench," Tamirindus said, stroking Althea's hair. "Jus' don't hunt Sophia no more. Yo'll make her die of fright."
"Yes, Mistis," Althea said quietly, hating herself.
The End
For those of you who've read Mr. Stirling's latest book, "Drakon" (please go buy it if you haven't), you might have noticed that the Draka get Gate tech about 100 years before Gwendolyn Ingolfsson drops into Earth/2's New York. This is not a mistake. The Domination in this novella is simply another Domination whose timeline diverged around the time Tamirindus Rohm was born. In effect it could be called Domination/2 or as I have called it "The Reality of Drakensis."
In Legends of the Sky Hurricane there is an infinite number of alternate Realities and possible timelines. There may be, in fact, two or three Drakensis realities, giving them a multitude of ways to plunder, uh… I mean "dominate," the multiverse. So don't mix up the two timelines and ask Mr. Stirling questions about Althea, the Storm League and the GmbH. Those little buggers are mine, so direct all pestering towards me.
This novella actually began as a scenario for the ill-fated Legends of the Sky Hurricane role-playing game (which is the size of a phone book). It was fun in it's own way, more like Star Wars than a Draka novel and had the Null (the original name of the Devil) running merry hell through the Draka computer systems. Also I had failed to take into account the changes that Mr. Stirling had done to the Draka along with their new technological level. Needless to say this underwent a complete rewrite until it's present form today.
Thankfully I didn't receive the brush off from Mr. Stirling. On the contrary, he was very gracious and allowed me to write this story, with a minimum of changes to my proposal. I was overcome with happiness at the review he gave me (dancing with my cats isn't a normal behavioral trait of mine) and went to get the cover art.
Disappointment and roadblocks awaited me, but two years after completion I finally (!!!) got the cover. Hopefully this will only be the first in a series of books set in the Sky Hurricane multiverse, each set in a different alternate reality with different characters.
Suggestions, questions and comments are most welcome,
Donavan Barrett (this name and [email protected] address no longer valid)
February 29th, 1996
I vaguely recalled reading this at one time while I was looking at Anne Marie Talbott's list of Draka fanfics by herself and others. I got puzzled when I couldn't find this story anywhere on her site. Luckily, my packrat ways served me well, and I had saved a copy of the story on my hard drive. Unfortunately, with no notes as to where or when I had gotten it. A little research revealed that "Legends of the Sky Hurricane" apparently was only found on one Finnish website, and that the author Don Barrett's site could be described as abandoned in minimis. The "Yearnings" novella had disappeared into "I'll be putting up my redesigned site soon" limbo, except for my copy. Rather than let this labor of love go unrecognized, I decided to contact the author and reformat it for my own Draka website.
If you have access to both my original copy and this version, you'll notice numerous minor changes. The underlying HTML was produced by Microsoft Word 97, and while the Netscape and Microsoft browsers will display it just fine, it makes validator programs very sick. So, I had to move a lot of tags around. After that, I began working on typos and bad grammar, being careful not to touch the Draka "Talk" unless I was very sure it was inconsistent. Hopefully, my editing has improved the flow and not damaged anything.
Anyway, after sending him an email, Don Barrett gave me permission to post this story on my website. He later sent me the cover art, which is the two illustrations.
August 30th & October 29th, 2001
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