The chamber walls of level 3 were lined with a strange metal, composition unknown. Chamber 3 was quarantined, in addition to its clean room status requirement being put on hold. Androids were specially modified to enter level 3; no human would be allowed. The access from level 2 to level 3 was fortified, and a biological hatch seal was installed. Not only could they not light any light or light-generating equipment in the chamber, it simply wouldn’t illuminate. Any bot or android sent inside stopped and shut down immediately. The darkness was forced. No light of any kind was permitted. The question was: Why?
It was time for his weekly live vid comm call to Admiral Mason. He took a deep breath, and was full of anticipation. “Captain Mason to Admiral Mason.”
“Admiral Mason here. Hello, John. I was waiting for your call. How is everything there?” His face was lean and chiseled, so manly. She wanted him in her arms.
“Everything is fine. We are anxiously awaiting the arrival of your team, Admiral Mason.” Good God, she looks so beautiful. “Has the Admiral been advised of the Joint Chiefs’ Special Inspection the week following your team’s arrival?” Mason asked.
“Yes, I have. I understand there will be several meetings on Mars Colony III.”
“Yes, Admiral. Captain Hanson recommended the offsite meetings, owing to the fact our mess hall serves toxic waste most of the time,” Mason explained.
“I’ll keep that in mind, Captain Mason,” she laughed. “No wonder you look thin.”
“You look very healthy and trim, Admiral Mason,” he said. She looked gorgeous!
She smiled her sexy upside-down smile for him. “Thank you, Captain Mason. Have you seen my senior command living quarters? Are they acceptable?”
“It is my opinion your living quarters are more than acceptable, Admiral Mason. I hope you will be pleased, Admiral.” In many ways, he wished.
The Admiral smiled at her husband. “I’m sure I will be, if everything meets with your approval, XO. I am certain you have our best interests at heart, Captain Mason.”
“Yes, Admiral, I do. Are there any other specific requests you wish to make, Admiral Mason?” Mason asked. I am your slave…
“Not at this time, Captain Mason. My regards to Captain Hanson. Admiral Mason out.” She clicked off. She wanted him in her arms—now. She was back to work and healthy. The Admiral was at her normal weight, exercising regularly, and had regained her flat stomach and abdomen; she looked and felt great. “I need you,” she whispered, touching their picture on her desk, watching them kiss at their beach wedding in Costa Rica in the holographic photo.
Anyone who interfered with Mason’s completion of his assigned goals was in for a hard time the last month. Captain Hanson completely turned Mars X around, and wanted the Great Vault Project to have every opportunity for success. The research team would arrive at Mars Colony III after two weeks on the transport from Earth. They would check into their living quarters or hotel, rest up for one day, then be shuttled in to work. Some would be assigned Mars X quarters, but only those at the bottom of the food chain.
Because of the highly specialized computers and equipment arriving with the research team, Mason was only permitted to greet Admiral Mason and her family and take them to her new living quarters, but not stay overnight. He needed to supervise the delivery and installation of her department’s equipment. Another Space Marine officer would fly her to Mars X tomorrow morning. Dammit.
Mason piloted his Admiral’s brand new shuttle to the Mars Colony III transport station. He paced up and down the platform, anxiously awaiting his family’s arrival. He was dressed in his class A uniform for the first time since his arrival on Mars X; the jacket and trousers were loose on him. His face was chiseled again, lean and stern. He’d thinned out his thick goatee. The announcement was made that their transport entered the dome, and would be landing in one minute. He popped a couple of breath mints and resumed pacing again.
The big transport slowly lowered into its docking mechanism with a loud, metallic clanking sound. He ran to the first class section, his heart about to come out of his chest. The doors opened, and Victor ran to him and jumped in his arms, crying, “John Mason! John Mason! We’re here! We’re here!”
Admiral Mason ran out with John David in her arms, and nearly knocked Mason and Victor over. Tears of joy flowed from them all. Mason wanted to hold her, but couldn’t; he had to maintain protocol, especially in the crowd of predominately Space Forces officers, most of them her own research team members. He led them to her new shuttle after giving delivery instructions to the porter-bot for their luggage, and they were off.
“You are so beautiful!” Mason said when they were safely inside her private shuttle. She beamed at him, and unwrapped her sleeping baby for him to view.
“JD’s twice the size he was when I shipped out! He’s so big!” Mason exclaimed. “And you, Victor, you’ve grown another 10 centimeters, at least!” Mason piloted them to their new quarters. Like all residences on Colony III, it was an apartment. But this apartment was twice the size of their Houston home, high up in a glass and steel tower, with two terraces. It boasted a splendid view of the city, glistening and shimmering in lights of many colors. Victor ran room to room in excitement.
“It’s beautiful, John! I never dreamed it would be so nice!” Rachel exclaimed.
“The apartment is all set up, fully outfitted. Anything you need or want, just call the concierge, 24/7. Here’s the call line.” Mason showed her the special comm link. He led her to the master bedroom and showed her its terrace, with its privacy and security screens. She was elated.
“You’re staying here tonight, aren’t you, John?” She asked as she laid John David down.
“No, unfortunately. I got to welcome you and bring you here, but I’m ordered to supervise the unloading and setting up of your team’s computers and equipment. But I’ll be here in three days, my night off,” he added, full of excitement.
Rachel came to him and laid one hell of a wet kiss on him. Mason picked her up as they kissed, and cradled her in his arms. His wrist comm link beeped. “First Lieutenant Hayes, Captain Mason. Sorry to interrupt, but we’ve got to go now, sir.” Mason put Rachel down, and acknowledged his call.
“This is not fair, dammit. You just got here, and I have to leave you, Rachel.” Mason was visibly angry.
Rachel kissed him again and then said, “I’ll see you tomorrow. We’ll have lunch together, John. Go, now. Before I get you into trouble,” she said, smiling. “I love you, John.”
Mason hugged her and Victor, and left. He was hell to deal with the rest of the evening, a tyrant to those unloading the research equipment and computers. He drove them half the night, until each computer was delivered, unpacked, set up according to the master plan, and functioning perfectly. He went to his quarters and drank two double bourbons before bed.
The next day, his schedule showed a two hour luncheon and tour for Admiral Mason, class A uniform. He went to her Great Vault chambers, and was shown into her private office. She was wearing her white class A’s, in skirt and high heels. Did she think this was Houston? He was not pleased. She wanted a tour immediately.
“Admiral Mason, which part of this base would you wish to tour first?” He asked her.
She got right in his face and said, “Your quarters. Now.” He led her through the web of air locks to the last corridor where his quarters were, next to Captain Hanson’s end quarters. He smacked opened his door’s palm lock, and held his door for her to step inside.
“Would you like wine, Admiral Mason? I have several bottles. Pinot noir?” Mason washed his hands and opened a bottle, and poured two glasses of wine. He handed her a glass of wine, and said, “I asked the Admiral to wear trousers on the base. It’s not safe.”
She smiled and locked her arm with his in a toast, and said, “I wore this today, just for you, John. I’ll wear trousers every day going forward.” He calmed, and they toasted her arrival. She began to unbutton his jacket. They put their gla
sses down and kissed, and their fire overtook them.
Rachel sat him down on the couch and unzipped his trousers, and gave him incredibly intense pleasure. While he recovered, she drank her wine, then took off her uniform, down to her frilly white garters, and slowly removed her panties as he watched her. Rachel mounted him, and whispered, “I need you, John. It’s been so long.” She began to move her hips as he thrust his hard cock inside her, easily at first. Mason heard Captain Hanson’s door click: was she coming out, or going in? He didn’t care anymore where the Captain was.
Rachel was working him so fine. She came quickly, reaching for his hands to hold onto. Mason continued to thrust her, a little harder now, and she went wild on him, crying, “Oh God, John, oh God!” She threw her head back, and from side to side in ecstasy. He came hard when she squeezed him inside her. Rachel lay her head on his shoulder, both of them panting, while he caressed her back and derriere.
“I couldn’t wait three more days for your love, John, I just couldn’t,” she whispered. Mason kissed her again and again, and caressed her beautiful body. He laid her down on the couch and penetrated her, stroking deeply and slowly to her rhythm. Rachel wrapped her strong legs around him and dug her heels into his ass, raising her hips to meet his thrusts. It was like their first lovemaking in Costa Rica, when everything was new. It was fabulous.
Their time was nearly over. Rachel went to his bathroom to shower and dress, while Mason put himself together. He poured a half glass of wine, drank it, and waited on her, savoring the moment. She emerged fresh and sweet, looking perfect. They left his quarters, and he programmed her palm print into his door lock to give her access to his quarters.
The Admiral handed him a list as they rounded the corner, saying, “I don’t see why you think these are unreasonable requests, Captain Mason. They are within my department’s right to have them fulfilled.”
He played along. “But they are simply not available to you in light of our current budgetary constraints, Admiral Mason,” he responded, as Captain Hanson stepped off the lift. She stopped to welcome Admiral Mason, and reminded him of her meeting in twenty minutes. She winked at him as she walked past. Okay, so she heard us, Mason realized. Oh well.
Mason escorted his Admiral to her private office, and ordered a Space Marine First Sergeant to guard her private office door, and escort her to her shuttle later. Mason saluted her, and she thanked him for the tour. He left, admiring her bravado, knowing she was well, and in good form. His Rachel was back. It was a good day.
XXIII
The transport off-loaded its passengers onto the platform, and First Sergeant DuMonde looked around for her escort. Mason came running up to her and received her salute. “First Sergeant DuMonde reporting for duty, Mon Capitan,” she said, smiling at him.
“First Sergeant DuMonde, your arrival is my blessing today! Let’s go!” Mason said. He picked up her large gear bag and led her to his shuttle. Admiral Mason was inside, waiting for them. They exchanged salutes and pleasantries, and flew to Mars X.
“Thank God you’re here, First Sergeant DuMonde. The Joint Chiefs’ Special Inspection is in four days,” Mason told her. “I hope you ate on the transport. Our mess hall dinners are pathetic,” he cautioned.
“I am fine, Mon Capitan. I have read all the files you downloaded to me, as well as your schedules. I am ready to assist you as you wish,” she said confidently. Admiral Mason and First Sergeant DuMonde began to converse in French while Mason joyfully listened. He flew them to base, and immediately took her to meet Captain Hanson, who was impressed with the young First Sergeant, and glad Mason received some help.
First Sergeant DuMonde’s immediate task was taking over the management of the Joint Chiefs Special Inspection tour, and handling all aspects of their off-site meetings. Mason could get back to his base assignments.
The Joint Chiefs’ tour of Mars X and the Great Vault chambers were all set up. Extra shuttles were borrowed from Mars Colony II and III to accommodate them. Mason was to be a “Tour guide” in his shuttle.
Admiral Mason and her research team were ready. Her team was already fully functional, thanks in very large part to Captain Mason’s tyrannical management of the clean room build-out of her facilities, and the Great Vault chambers.
Four of the Joint Chiefs were in the inspection team: Admiral Worthington, Commandant Richardson, Admiral Wilson, and General Ling. They were greeted at the transport platform by Admiral Mason, Captain Hanson, Captain Mason, and First Sergeant DuMonde. They were shuttled to their hotel suites, where they dropped their bags and demanded an immediate tour of Mars X, one day ahead of schedule. Mason smiled at Captain Hanson; she warned him to be ready for this two weeks ago. The Joint Chiefs re-boarded their shuttles and flew off to Mars X.
Mason was piloting Admiral Mason, Admiral Worthington, and Captain Hanson. His was the lead shuttle, so he provided the tour dialogue for them. As they flew over the first landing site, Admiral Worthington remarked, “You survived that, Captain Mason? It is still a horrific scene. Take me in for a closer look.” The hangar where Mason was hit from the explosion was repaired, as was the flight control tower. But the cargo transport wreckage was still there; charred, twisted metal burned into the tarmac and concrete. “How long before cleanup will be completed?” Admiral Worthington asked.
Captain Hanson answered, “We cannot begin clearance of the wreckage until the medical forensics team completes all their work, Admiral. They have declined to provide us with a definitive date.”
“Damned shame. All those lives lost. You’re a very lucky man, Mason,” Worthington admitted.
“Yes, sir. I am grateful,” Mason agreed.
Admiral Mason stared at the devastated wreckage, seeing it for the first time close-up. She looked at her husband in the pilot’s seat, and said a prayer of thanks for his survival.
They toured all around the perimeter, checking out the progress of the top-side buildings and surrounding infrastructure. They landed, and entered the main underground base complex. Mason conducted the base tour of the web of corridors and ten levels. The tour took a full two hours. The Great Vault chambers were next.
Admiral Mason took over tour duties for the Great Vault chambers. Since the areas beyond their research and meeting offices were clean-room, the tour went quickly. The Joint Chiefs had no intentions of going through the eight levels of showers in various chemicals and gases to be clean enough to suit up and enter the Great Vault DNA repository. She gave full credit to Captain Hanson for having their clean room, research areas, and equipment 100% ready for them upon their arrival.
They decided to save the departmental tours for tomorrow, and were shuttled to their hotels. A dinner reception was planned for eighteen hundred hours. Mason flew back to the hotel with First Sergeant DuMonde. They arrived early to finalize preparations, and so Mason could sweep and scan their private dining room. The room’s table seating was one large round table. There was a large vid screen at the end of the room, but Mason had no plans to use it.
The Joint Chiefs came in, followed by Admiral Mason and Captain Hanson. First Sergeant DuMonde seated the four Joint Chiefs together, flanked by Captain Hanson and Admiral Mason on one end, and Captain Mason and herself on the other.
Dinner was a seven course meal, each course served with its own wine. The entrée was broiled rack of lamb, and it was superb. The dessert was a chocolate cake, topped with fresh red raspberries flambéed in Cointreau. Coffee and cognac were served afterwards.
“Captain Hanson, my compliments on your menu selections. And the wine pairings were superb!” Admiral Wilson complimented her. “A better dinner I have never enjoyed.”
“Thank you, Admiral Wilson. But the menu as well as the wine pairings were chosen by my XO, Captain Mason. I must give him all the credit, Admiral.” The Joint Chiefs were suitably impressed, as was Admiral Mason, who gave her husband a sweet glance of approval.
The conversation turned to the Great Vault Project. Several minutes i
nto the conversation, Mason’s hair began to stand up on the back of his neck. He pulled out his scanner, swept the room, and casually strolled to the end of the room behind Captain Hanson and Admiral Mason. The Space Marines were on guard, and the waiters were gone.
Suddenly, the unused vid screen began to shimmer. Mason stood guard right next to Captain Hanson and Admiral Mason immediately.
“What is the meaning of this intrusion?” The Commandant bellowed. “Who are you?”
“Commandant, Admirals, General, and Captain, if I may; you are seeing Dr. James, the Yellow Man, and the ONE,” Mason said quietly.
“We are ONE. We mean you no harm,” the Yellow Man spoke, standing next to their big green and yellow lizard commander, seated in an elevated command chair.
The Space Marine guards rushed in with their rifles. Mason ordered, “Lower your weapons. It is a holographic projection.” They returned to their posts, fingers on their triggers.
“Why have you shown yourself?” Admiral Wilson asked nervously.
“We are ONE. We are very interested in your discovery of the ancient records. We wish to study them with you,” the Yellow Man said, as he looked around their room.
“That is impossible,” Admiral Worthington said. The Joint Chiefs had not seen the ONE in person before tonight, only vid recordings.
“Nothing is impossible, only more or less convenient,” the Yellow Man countered.
The Joint Chiefs were stunned at his remark, and were silent. Mason asked for permission to speak, and they agreed. “Hello, Dr. James. Why have you chosen this time to appear before our highest military leaders?” Mason began quietly.
Vengeance of Sukesh: John Mason (Legend of John Mason) Page 29
