Zero Factor: A Cybershock Story

by Stacy Gail

  That thought made her reach out for Locke, only to encounter nothing but acres of empty bed. Via opened heavy-lidded eyes to find the luxurious room vacant except for her, and awash in the rosy glow of sunset. Surprise had her looking around the room for a clock, only to find that was the one thing the room didn’t have, and she supposed that only made sense. Time was something that existed outside of these walls, but not here. At the Pleasure Palace, time was as meaningless as inhibitions. As Locke had embedded himself into her again and again as though his desire would never be satisfied, the tides of ebbing and peaking ecstasy had been the only thing she had been aware of for what may have been a small eternity.

  But now…

  The red robe had been thrown over her nakedness. With a yawn she pulled it on, noting soreness in certain places as she did so. But it only made her smile as she pushed off the bed to wander into the bathroom in search of Locke. Her smile vanished when she didn’t find him there either, but before she could do a decent job of plunging into all-out panic, the door quietly swung open to admit a fully dressed, somber-faced Locke.

  “There you are,” she blurted as the door closed behind him. Her relieved smile of welcome faltered when his cyberoptics swept over her as if she were no more than a vague acquaintance he wasn’t too excited about seeing. That was when it hit her that she didn’t know the first thing about post-sex etiquette. Was it supposed to be this awkward? “Um…I guess I fell asleep.”

  Wow. What snappy repartee.

  “Not surprising. We’ve got company,” Locke went on, and offered her an ice-cold water bottle he had obviously gone out to retrieve. “Cedrine informed me that, aside from these rooms and her own, the entirety of the Pleasure Palace has been rented out for the next week by a contingent of UNAS Continental government officials.”

  Via’s brows shot up, her discomfiture forgotten. “Dayum. I wonder why such heavy-duty VIPs are here in New Vegas.”

  “You don’t have to look far for the answer to that one,” he drawled, opening his own bottle and taking a swig. “According to Cedrine, they’re here ostensibly on a fact-finding mission, whatever that may be. But what they’re really here for is to do an in-depth investigation into that explosion at the distribution warehouse.”

  “Our explosion?”

  “Our explosion. You and I are going to have to keep a low profile for the time being while we let them dig into it, though I don’t have a lot of stone-cold hope of government officials being able to out-strategize the likes of Colonel Fynn.”

  Via tilted her head. “Did you tell Cedrine about the baby scene I picked up when I tried to target view?”

  He shook his head, his cyberoptics locked on the wall beyond her. “You can tell her all about it when we meet up with her later this evening. Cedrine said she hopes to have dinner with us before she has to get down to the business of entertaining her new clientele.”

  “That sounds good.” Something wasn’t right, and it wasn’t the unexpected arrival of government officials. Via watched Locke stalk to the patio door and told herself she was just imagining the way he avoided looking at her. “Maybe she can make some sense of what I saw.”

  Locke didn’t move, his face averted to a window filled with nothing but peaceful Pleasure Palace backyard. “Mmm.”

  Okay. Definitely not her imagination. “Locke—”

  A harsh gush of familiar static from the sat-radio cut her off, and her eyes widened in surprise. “Sounds like the Lady Pirate’s usual intro.”

  “That bitch,” he snarled with a violence that surprised her. “What the militia wouldn’t give to get their hands on that traitor.”

  “Traitor?” Via kept her expression calm while inside a flare of indignant outrage forked through her. “Bit harsh, yeah?”

  “Not harsh enough,” came the arctic reply. “Whenever this so-called Lady Pirate hacks into the satellites, all she does is stir up the citizenry with half-truths. There we are, putting our asses on the line as we try to protect the people of UNAS, only to have them take potshots at us because this pirate makes us out to be nothing more than a lawless bunch of storm troopers.”

  “There will always be a lunatic fringe taking potshots, whether there’s a Lady Pirate or not,” Via said, crossing her arms and wondering how they had gone from a world of bliss to a verbal knockdown, drag-out. If she didn’t know better, she’d think this word-tussle had very little to do with the state of the world and more with the state of them. “The Lady Pirate puts a spotlight on the all-powerful authorities to make sure they don’t abuse that power. If she didn’t do that, they would operate with impunity.”

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  “Wasn’t it a militia man who tried to kill you?”

  He waved this away with an impatient sweep of his hand. “It’s dangerous to broadcast sensitive information to the enemy.”

  “What enemy would that be? Those poor people you’ve been trained to think of as no-goods, the same people Fynn wanted to open fire on because they made the unforgivable mistake of not having anything?”

  His face darkened, and for just a moment he looked like the dangerous militia man she had first met. “We’re trained to protect the people of this area. I’m proud of that, and of all that I’ve done. No matter who they are or where they come from, I’ll do everything I can to protect them.”

  “Which speaks to the type of man you are,” she said. “And if every person of authority took their job to heart as much as you, we wouldn’t be having this discussion. What’s more, I do appreciate what the militia does. There would be complete anarchy if they didn’t have a strong presence, and no one wants that. But there has to be a balance to their absolute power, an accounting for all the things that go on under the militia’s cloak of secrecy.”

  “Things?” Locke repeated with a mocking little scoff. “Give me something specific rather than spouting imagined conspiracies. What things are the militias hiding?”

  “The inhumane treatment of the psionic population,” she said, and the light in the room seemed to dim when he turned away. A rejection, she thought sadly, of what she was, in favor of all that he had been trained to believe in. She shouldn’t be surprised. “Not even you knew about that, if you’ll recall. And what about trying to TK your own man? The way I saw it, Fynn thought he could get away with vaporizing you, only to cover it up with a mass murder of the so-called no-goods and declaring war with them.”

  “That’s one man. Fynn doesn’t represent all the Militias of UNAS.”

  “Agreed.” She nodded again. “But if this one man—this one extremely powerful man—has no one to hold him accountable, then he could have literally gotten away with both your murder, and the horrific killing of all those people he had planned on gunning down outside the distribution center. If you look at it from that perspective, people like the Lady Pirate do their best to keep people like your Colonel Fynn in check.”

  “He’s not my Colonel Fynn. Not anymore.”

  Via’s heart clenched at his bleak tone. “In her own way, the Lady Pirate is trying to protect the citizenry just as much as you, Locke. But instead of using a pulse rifle, she uses knowledge. She shares knowledge that people in authority might otherwise want hidden because they know they’re doing wrong. She does this to protect both the ideals that we all try to hold ourselves to, as well as the community around her. In my book, that makes her just as brave as any soldier on the front lines.”

  Locke frowned and looked like he wanted to shoot off another volley, but at last the static cut off, and the sultry, synthesized tones of the Lady Pirate whispered through the room.

  “Sorry we made you wait, dear listeners, but most of the com satellites are jammed with heavy traffic. Not surprising, since all hell seems to be breaking loose after an explosion rocked a militia distribution center and an innocent agridome worker was abducted by New Vegas Urban Militia lieutenant, Charles Locke, a reported member of Colonel Francis Fynn’s elite Lifer unit.”

&
nbsp; “Wow, Lady Pirate even dug up your first name,” Via said, impressed.

  “Shh, I’m trying to listen.”

  “The initial incident report filed by Colonel Fynn stated that citizens bent on insurrection and the destabilization of peace in the Las Vegas Territory were responsible for the bombing that took place at the New Vegas Urban Militia’s distribution center. This report was disputed, however, by the agridome workers who witnessed the explosion. They claim the explosion emanated from within the compound itself, and that the citizens gathered at the distribution center’s gate were peacefully dispersing at the time of the blast. Their eyewitness testimony is further corroborated by a member of Colonel Fynn’s Lifers, Lieutenant Dinjin ‘DJ’ Kyloe, who has since been relieved of active duty from the Lifer unit by Colonel Fynn for unspecified reasons. Lieutenant Kyloe’s whereabouts are currently unknown.”

  “DJ,” Locke muttered, his scarred face as hard as granite. “You dumbass.”

  “The agridome witnesses have reported it was Lieutenant Locke who initially spotted the bomb, and gave them a warning which saved their lives. They also claim Lieutenant Locke then saved the life of the female agridome worker he later absconded with, by jumping out of the way of the blast nanoseconds before it went off. This eyewitness testimony directly contradicts Colonel Fynn’s revised incident report that it was a crazed and suicidal Lieutenant Locke who was responsible for the explosion. The colonel now claims his underling somehow managed to get his hands on a highly classified explosive compound by the name of C-10, which was supposed to be under the guard of Colonel Fynn himself. At this juncture, it should be noted that Colonel Fynn’s initial incident report claiming an attack by civilian insurrectionists has mysteriously vanished from the official record. The Lady Pirate, however, archived it and has only been too happy to email it around the world to various governmental watchdog agencies.”

  “That would explain the Continental government officials snooping around,” Locke said, as if to himself. “The global community’s not too comfortable with UNAS crawling back from the grave Mother Nature and the zealots tried to put it in. Everyone watches us like a hawk as we grow stronger by the day, so it’s understandable UNAS wants to make a good show of taking care of any internal problems that sprout up.”

  “Let’s just hope it isn’t merely a show they’re putting on. It would be nice to have results from this investigation, rather than a whitewash.”

  “As reports of what exactly happened at the distribution center conflict and contrast, the Lady Pirate’s efforts to get footage from the security cameras dotting that area have been fruitless. A source close to the Urban Militia has revealed that all digital footage from these cameras has been erased, a feat which could only have been accomplished from within the Urban Militia itself. If this footage has in fact been tampered with in any way, this would be an illegal act of epic proportions, breaking both Las Vegas Territory laws as well as UNAS Continental laws. UNAS Continental Justice Officials have come to New Vegas to investigate this incident.”

  “Dayum, things are heating up for the colonel,” Locke said through a rough sigh. “It’s hard for me to believe he’d break all the laws he taught us Lifers to uphold, but…” He shook his head. “The man’s really lost it.”

  Via opened her mouth to point out that it was the Lady Pirate’s information gathering that had brought much-needed scrutiny to Colonel Fynn’s actions, when the synthesized voice filled the room once more.

  “The Lady Pirate has a special message for a certain someone whom she hopes is listening now. Via, if you’re hearing this, call home. Mommy and Daddy are worried.”

  Locke glanced at her, apparently startled enough to forget he was trying to ignore her existence. “A personal message? From the Lady Pirate?”

  “I guess my parents found a way to get word to her.” Via shrugged, and it was her turn to avoid eye contact. “Personal messages happen from time to time.”

  Locke opened his mouth to question her further, but he was interrupted by a soft knock on the door before it swung open. In an instant he was a living barrier in front of her, Widow-Maker at the ready as Cedrine strolled in, pushing a food-laden cart ahead of her.

  “Well, wasn’t that a fun little broadcast?” Cedrine asked with a brilliant smile. “Just enough food for thought to whet the appetite for something more substantial, which means my timing is impeccable, as usual. Dinner is served, my darlings.”

  Cloaking himself in silence, Locke tried to do justice to the three-course meal Cedrine and her chef had provided for them—roasted red pepper soup with crusty bread, duck a l’orange with sautéed squash, and chocolate mousse crepes. But as hard as he tried to choke it down, it sat in his gut like a decade-old MRE. Though he told himself he was still adjusting to the sting of betrayal from the colonel who had raised him to be the man he was today, Locke knew the true source of his nagging discomfort.

  Via.

  He was such a fraudulent bastard. He sure as hell talked a good game about being a conscientious protector of those who couldn’t protect themselves, but what he had done to Via—and done to her and done to her—was just as despicable as sexing up someone who was under the influence of an illegal substance.

  And son of a bitch that he was, all he could think about was doing it again.

  He hadn’t been able to stop, he recalled, while Via and Cedrine chatted over dinner. Then he cursed that pitiable defense. Not being able to stop was not a frigging option. Whether he was lured in by the insatiable desire Via had spawned in him from the get-go or blown away by her empathic abilities, the fact remained that as a trained soldier, he should never lose control. Not even when the woman he wanted more than his next breath was lost in psychic ecstasy and begging him to fill her.

  Locke swallowed a vicious curse, trying to focus on anything but the memory of taking Via like a sex-crazed madman stiffened up on a blue pill overdose. It was a wonder she didn’t hate his guts now. What she must think of him, bringing an empathic psychometric into a frigging bordello, where every inch of the place had to be writhing with orgasmic echoes from past patrons. Of course she had been influenced by the maddening pleasure, but that wasn’t who she really was. She sure as hell hadn’t lived a sexually active lifestyle out there in her little bubble world. For all he knew, she probably didn’t even want him the way he wanted her.

  And there it was, the real crux of his discontent. While he became as hard as a titanium rod just by spooning with her, Via hadn’t shown any signs of even noticing he was a man until they came to the Pleasure Palace. He was nothing but a scarred-up, meched-out Lifer who was a heinous monster to helpless psionics. Any hardened-up male would have done the job for her in the blissed-out condition she’d been in. Any thrust would have made her scream and writhe and weep in an agony of pleasure. When she’d begged for more, she hadn’t wanted more from him. She’d just wanted…more.

  And it wasn’t that he cared, or anything touchy-feely like that. Hells no. He simply hated feeling like a frigging rapist, that’s all.

  “How about it, Locke? Can you think of anything?”

  Locke looked up to see them regarding him with expectant faces. “Sorry, my mind was elsewhere.”

  Via shot him a worried look while Cedrine reached over and patted his hand. “Of course, you must have so much on your mind, poor dear. Via was telling me that her attempt to view anything pertaining to Colonel Fynn’s motivations uncovered the birth of that baby. My guess is that while this event does have something to do with whatever the colonel is up to, because it was seen through you, an intermediary, the full picture isn’t clear. That’s when I suggested getting something that belongs directly to Fynn so that the whole picture can be seen.”

  “I know it might seem impossible, but if there’s anything we can do to point the UNAS investigation in the right direction, we should try it,” Via added, still watching him with those lovely, worried eyes, before she glanced at Cedrine. “Can’t we just talk to the UNA
S officials now and explain what happened?”

  Cedrine’s finely sculpted brows shot up. “You want to explain to them how you psychometrically saw the well-connected, extremely powerful Colonel Francis Fynn go on a murderous rampage for no apparent reason? We have no proof of what he’d intended to do.”

  “And you can’t expose your visions to government officials who voted the PAI Law into being,” Locke told Via, and though he wasn’t sure why, the thought of it made everything inside him turn to ice. “We need solid proof of Fynn’s duplicity while keeping you off-grid.”

  Via chewed on her lip. “They’re going to ask why you took me.”

  “That’s covered.” He shrugged, waving it aside. “As soldiers, we’re taught to think on our feet. To achieve the objective of escaping the distribution center intact, I took you as a hostage just in case I needed a potential bargaining chip. Hopefully once all is uncovered and I’ve cleared my name, I won’t get any more than a slap on the wrist.”

  Cedrine looked impressed. “Pretty slick.”

  “Which leads us back to getting to Fynn.” Via frowned over at Locke. “Can you think of anything that might belong to Fynn that we could get our hands on?”

  “Me,” he said before he could stop himself. Then he hurried to clarify when all he could see was Via’s hands caressing his body. “From the age of ten, Colonel Fynn pretty much owned me. But I take it that doesn’t count.”

  “’Fraid not, darling.” Cedrine sighed, pushing to her feet. “Maybe inspiration will hit with a good night’s sleep. And with that oh-so-graceful exiting line, I shall bid you both bon soir.” After kissing Via on the cheek, Cedrine moved to Locke to do the same. “Do both Via and yourself a favor, soldier-boy,” she whispered into his ear. “Don’t think too much, mmkay? Nighty-night.”