Lover

by Valerie J. Long

  “I’m already deep inside, and don’t look that way, I’m not talking of my cock just now.” Which was just rising again. “Jo—”

  “Hush.” I rolled around and crawled between his legs. My lips closed around his shaft and began to suck pleasurably. The slightly fishy taste didn’t bother me.

  “Oh—Jo!”

  That was his last meaningful statement for a while. I sucked his marvelous erection to climax and beyond, milking his juice and his conscious acting and thinking out of him.

  Some time passed before he was able again to pull me to his shoulder, caress my back and my boobs and place gentle kisses on my head.

  Finally, he came back to his topic.

  “Jo—here at least you have someone to pick you up. These folks, as you call them, may have other priorities, but don’t think you wouldn’t matter to them at all. They could help you.”

  “Okay. But they’re staying here, and I’m going to Japan.”

  “That’s what I mean. You’re all alone over there. If you only sneaked in somewhere to eavesdrop, I’d be quite cool. But you’re about to attack. Without the Navy, without backup, in open battle.”

  “Not quite. I don’t have a backup, that’s right.” He had triggered an idea. “But I’ll avoid open battle as far as possible, and I’ll also find myself some support.”

  “Who?”

  “I know a few people from the past. Come on, fuck me again.”

  Chapter One-Hundred-And-Thirteen

  Was that really a good idea? So far, only three persons knew that I was going to Japan, and I expected all three to keep their mouths shut. My host tonight was supposed to pass my message on, though. If it arrived in the wrong hands, I’d have a hard time at my destination.

  I became visible and cleared my throat.

  My host turned around, ready to jump, one hand on the way to his pocket—and he relaxed again. “Good evening, Miss Meier. You shouldn’t be here.”

  “With regard to your security installations, do you fear for your cover, or should I be in a different place in your opinion? Good evening.”

  “Three times yes. I’d have expected you being on a certain mission. The time window is narrow.”

  “Ah, you know about it. Well, they’ll have to do without me.”

  “Why?”

  “I have a more promising target.”

  “So. Should I know about it?”

  “The Cartel security head is traveling to Japan to facilitate the change in power there soon.”

  “A few months ago, the Cartel couldn’t get a foot on the ground with the Yakuza. Why does she think it’s different now? Do you have any clue?”

  “She’s gathered suits and plasma rifles. Moreover, she’ll ally with a local cult.”

  “A cult? So what?”

  “This cult is very dangerous.”

  “In which way?”

  “They’ve got a Dragon.”

  “What?” He shook his head. “With every other person I’d say that’s nonsense, bring me proof. I shouldn’t be allowed to in my job, but somehow I tend to believe you. A Dragon? They’ve all departed.”

  Should I feel flattered? He didn’t sound as if he’d been making compliments. “Hatched after the Imperatrix’ departure.”

  “And in the hands of fanatics. The worst that could happen to us. Then I understand your prioritization. Are you sure? Did you see him?”

  “Only the remnants of the eggshell, luckily. I wouldn’t have survived an encounter.”

  “Oh, okay. And that’s why you now want to make up for it?”

  “Meanwhile, I had some time to prepare myself.”

  “Is it possible at all to prepare for a Dragon encounter?”

  “I can. I’ll see whether it’s enough.”

  “That’s what I wish you. Oh, I’m a bad host. May I offer you something? Scotch? Tea?”

  “Very British. Doesn’t that endanger your cover?”

  “I don’t have to pretend to you.”

  “I believe a role is the more convincing, the more consistently you’re living it.”

  “You’re right. Right now, I’m deliberately stepping out of my role. Well?”

  “What you’ve got. Your men don’t need to know about me.”

  “I can only agree with you. The information that Velvet’s been here is so much more valuable than my cover identity, that some of my men could feel tempted. A risk that can be avoided.” He produced a bottle and a glass and poured me a golden liquid. “So I won’t use a second glass. In any case, you don’t leave traces of lipstick.”

  “I won’t leave any traces at all.” I took the glass he handed me and drank a sip. The alcohol was allowed to cause its effect as taste amplifier, then my nano essence intervened and transformed it into energy.

  “Why did you come?”

  “I consider the information important enough to pass it on—to the resistance and to you. Perhaps I’ll let someone in once I’m in Japan—I’ll have to decide that when I’m there.”

  “It could be better if I warn our people—shouldn’t I?”

  “That, too. Perhaps even the Japanese? I’d better not show up in their consulate right now.”

  “That’s not in my hands, but it might well be we’re sending a message through the official channels.” He cocked his head. “You could try to talk to the Tenno himself.”

  “I?”

  “As the Lionheart’s ambassador. That’s close enough to the truth to grant your entrance.”

  “Yes. And then I’ll tell the emperor that the opposition commands the only Dragon on this planet. His only relative, so to say. He’ll be excited.”

  “True.” He turned his head. “I assume you have contacts there, as you’ve been to Japan before. I could give you an address though, in case you need help personally.”

  “You may do that?”

  “It’s someone who’s not important for our network, but who owes us a favor. Accommodation, first aid, a transport, such things.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I thank you. Your information’s valuable.”

  Part Ten

  Offensive

  Chapter One-Hundred-And-Fourteen

  Silence.

  At least in the immediate vicinity it had finally become quiet—the cranes’ busy sounds had fallen mute for the moment. Now I could dare to leave my hideout.

  First, I took my legs off the hull and morphed the suckers away, made a few slow pedaling moves in the cold water to recall life into my limbs, then I repeated the same with my arms and let myself float up to the surface. My lungs filled with deep breaths—finally, I could breathe again!

  Since the departure from San Francisco, I had been stuck to the freighter’s hull, while my body had remained in a kind of cold rigor. My skin was cooled, and only slowly I allowed the warmth to seep out of my core. My limbs needed the energy to become movable again, to paddle me to the quay wall, to pull me up the rough construction, out of the water that would steal my temperature right away again.

  Arriving at the top, I stretched and bent to thoroughly warm up again.

  With a single thought, I let the brackish harbor sea water disappear from my skin and my matte black suit reappear. Even if I knew that my nanos worked perfectly, I couldn’t deny myself the examining glance down my body. Like a second skin, they wrapped me to the tips of my boots, leaving only hands and head free, thereby following the shape of my breasts and nipples, my pubes, my ass in every detail—ha, I could afford that!

  I wasn’t here to hide, but to start an offensive.

  Japan, beware. Velvet has arrived.

  Confident and vivid, I ventured on my way downtown to refresh some old acquaintances. Or perhaps I had better refill my power supply first? Yes, that was more urgent. Much more urgent, I noticed to my surprise.

  However, here at the harbor I’d only find rats—four-legged and two-legged ones, and while the former scurried away in the shadows, three brawny ones of the latter kind approache
d me.

  “See there,” the first one said in rough Japanese. “A pretty little gaijin!”

  If he had hoped to frighten me, I had to disappoint him. “Good morning,” I returned fluently in his native language—only accent-free. “You may get out of my way.” Before he could object, I added, “I’m not in the mood to excuse bad manners, and three rats won’t stop me.”

  “I hear great words and only see a woman without weapons,” the speaker jeered and attacked me.

  The next moment he lay on the ground, holding his balls and howling. His mates withdrew when I walked past them. Was it over?

  No. I heard his movements, the chafing of metal on leather, the silent sigh of sucked-in air, the rush of a knife flying through the air. At the last moment, I jumped around and caught it from the air at its hilt.

  Three faces stared at me open-mouthed.

  “You’ve made a mistake,” I coldly declared. “Don’t make another.” Then I simply dropped the knife, turned around and walked away.

  Chapter One-Hundred-And-Fifteen

  My first goal had to be consuming food, my second goal was intelligence. Why shouldn’t I combine both goals? A night club in a back-street area with the respective visitors and acceptable cuisine was just right, and I knew exactly where I could find such a venue.

  The way into town was long, but I wasn’t in a hurry. I only wanted to arrive in the late evening, so until then, I inhaled the mood of the town and its people around me and ate some snacks—this served both my goals, too.

  In more or less regular intervals, I saw groups of young people lingering around a diner, a supermarket, or a recharge station. Those were the typical youth gangs guarding their territory and occasionally collecting from pedestrians. Inconspicuously, I made detours around these people, simply walked by them. When they noticed me, it was almost too late, and as long as I didn’t look like a worthwhile target, they wouldn’t make an effort running after me.

  The center came closer, just as noon did. Meanwhile, I had no trouble disappearing in the crowd of Japanese. After all, I was short enough.

  Sadly, this didn’t work everywhere. Here in the center, the gangs were larger and better organized, so they had no trouble controlling the entire road width. I could nicely observe this ahead of me, where four bulky young men in black leather were blocking the sidewalk. Only a narrow alley was left. Two girls in tight pink latex suits were collecting from the pedestrians there. Three more boys and another girl, all wrapped in tight leather, supervised the process. The girl was playing with herself and a nunchaku, which obviously pleased two of the boys, as the bulge in their pants showed. Or were they staring at the two latex suits’ buttocks?

  The people ahead of me were patiently delivering their toll. I was still considering whether to find a different way or to pass the obstacle camouflaged, when a sedan with tinted windows stopped next to the barrier. One window opened, the nunchaku girl handed a bundle of notes inside, and then the car drove on.

  “Three,” she snapped. The latex girls immediately began to collect the tripled fee. The crowds mutters quickly fell mute when the three boys beyond showed their knives. I decided to change my route.

  As a gaijin only with dollars in my pocket, moreover alone, I’d look like a promising target for a special tariff. I didn’t want to get rid of my hard earned money so soon, though. So I let myself be washed into a house entrance, pushed one claw into the catch and opened the door. A short time later, I stood on the roof.

  I wasn’t inclined to sacrifice my tight power reserves for camouflage, nor was I interested in being caught by jumping from rooftop to rooftop without effort. A checkered sky-gray suit coloring seemed to be a good compromise. Before I crossed the next larger street, I became black again and climbed down.

  Next, a pickpocket tried his luck with me, however, he neither managed to stumble into me—I dodged him—nor cut into my robust belt pockets. This could have been amusing, but he obviously had only been sent ahead to test me. The guys following him had more serious intentions, and sadly I hadn’t spotted them early enough to evade them. I wasn’t up to running, so I was left with the quarrel—or not?

  I remembered well what the Dragon cultists’ symbol looked like—the Dragon curling around a mountain. If these people had gained enough power to become interesting for the Cartel, they might also have gained public attention?

  So far, only a skull decorated my functionless belt buckle. I placed my palms over it and briefly focused on reproducing the symbol with the skull in its center, while I welcomed the thugs with a defiant wide stance. “Who’s crossing the Dragon’s path?” I asked cheekily and made a point of taking my hands to the side.

  Struck home! The foremost guy, until now busy with an ugly stare at my crotch, became pale as chalk and made a step back.

  “Sorry—the skull—I didn’t recognize the symbol immediately,” he stammered. “What—who—oh!”

  His fellow’s elbow reminded him that he wasn’t supposed to ask questions.

  I gave the two a thin smile. “You’ve never seen the symbol of a terminator before? Lucky you.”

  An unpleasant smell rose to my nose, followed by a wet spot in his crotch. Under my disapproving glare, the two shrank even more and backed away. Now I could pass unmolested.

  What an astonishing effect this symbol had. Obviously, a lot had changed since my departure. Had I forced the cult to go public? Once I had escaped them, they couldn’t have known who I belonged to, what my plans were, what next steps they’d have to expect. That someone bold enough to penetrate their cave and good enough to get out again would simply run away wasn’t something they could have guessed.

  Perhaps there were other reasons, too. Perhaps they’d been ready for their coming-out anyway.

  For the time being, it was helpful, and after it had worked so well, I was ready for another test. The intel gained seemed to be worth the risk, as it would give me an insight into the structures of power. The next toll station lay not far ahead of me, so I only had to prepare myself.

  First, I changed my stance. By stretching myself up, the inconspicuous little girl became a proud alpha female, presenting her fearless confidence. Second, I placed my hands around the buckle symbol. Third, I made longer and more energetic steps.

  That was enough to stir the attention of the street posts ahead. They poked each other, stared my direction, warned the men in the second row. Finally, I was close enough to let them see my waistline—their gaze fell on the symbol and they simply gave way. Oh crap.

  Around the next corner, I let the symbol disappear. Yes, it was incredibly effective, and that told me a lot. First, at least here in Tokyo, the Dragon cult was extremely powerful, well-known, and present. Second, its symbol caused so much fear that its methods had to be more than unpleasant. I remembered my visit to the cultists in San Francisco. The request to submit to a presumably very unpleasant punishment was followed. What did that tell about the consequences of a denial? It had to be the worse choice. Third, the symbol as a legitimation wasn’t challenged. So I had to assume that any misuse would have likewise unpleasant consequences.

  Those were the people I’d take on.

  Chapter One-Hundred-And-Sixteen

  Toward evening, I reached the part of Tokyo where I hoped to gain better intel. Here, too, numerous people were roaming on foot. However, those no longer were the commercial district���s pencil-pushers but bummers, petty crooks, junkies, whores, and of course their clients. I had no trouble inconspicuously merging into this environment.

  I was still contemplating on how much time I’d have left before the cult or the Cartel—that is, Jana—would learn about my arrival, when on the opposite curb two cars came to a halt with squealing tires. This, in turn, triggered a spontaneous escape reflex with most people around me. Except for one guy leaning on a wall, who was way too stoned to take note of anything, they trickled through side alleys and doors like roaches fleeing away from sudden light.

 
In the shadowy corner of a building, I found a place with a good view. My camouflage blended in with the background.

  Five men in black suits had left the vehicles and were now surrounding two pimps who let their heads hang down. There were no long discussions—the two were forced to kneel down, then one of the black suits produced a pistol and shot the first pimp into the head from behind. Blood sprayed, a muffled sound escaped his mate, and a second shot echoed down the street.

  The second pimp was still alive, only held his bleeding ear—and he had to consider himself lucky if the bang hadn’t destroyed his eardrum.

  Without having spoken a single word, the black suits left. Quick and merciless. Whatever the two pimps had done, it must have displeased someone.

  I could well have done without such a demonstration of the predominant customs, but okay, this was another jigsaw piece for the current picture. On Tokyo’s streets, the strongest ruled. If there was any governmental power at all, it had withdrawn from ordinary people’s lives. If this was true all over the country, then Japan was indeed ready for the Cartel’s takeover.

  I could forget about my goal of preventing this takeover. Perhaps I could provide the Japanese with a chance for resistance—aw, Dragon snot, perhaps I should first continue to collect intelligence?

  Block by block, I ambled on, turned unequivocal offers down, pushed pickpockets aside, and dodged the drunks. My eyes adjusted to the dim light of single flickering lanterns, and my nose to the omnipresent smell of unwashed bodies, piss, and rotting garbage. I paid attention to where I placed my feet.

  An illuminated advertisement ahead told of alcohol and sex, and the smell added notes of tobacco and stronger drugs. Four guys with wrestler bodies framed the door, while two more relaxed slender boys with machine pistols under their arms sat on the roof. A clear message—this was a rough area, but not under alarm. It was as clearly no place for a gaijin. Well, I could do something about the latter.