A few minutes later, a boxy hover-bot floated up to the double doors, blinking with a series of green and blue lights. Not bothering to reach for anything to wear, she wandered to the door and pressed the silver panel on the wall. Glass panes slid to the side without noise. Her hair blew back in a stiff wind from a rush of cold air, invigorating upon her nakedness. Steam escaped in a puff from the front end of the floating machine when it opened, laden with the fragrance of teriyaki.
“You should’ve covered up. Some deck jockeys set programs loose on the net designed to run around skimming delivery bots’ memory cores for nude images.” He propped himself up on his elbows. “You’ve just made some pubescent cave-dweller’s month.”
The doors closed with a soft pssh, muting the whirr of the departing robot. She drifted back across the room and set both cartons on the bed, dropping a set of plastic-wrapped chopsticks on Pavo’s stomach. He rolled on his side while she sat on the edge, one leg dangling.
“What’d you get?”
“Two orders of chicken teriyaki soba.” She opened hers, gathering noodles on a pair of black lacquered Epoxil chopsticks.
Pavo had a little trouble locating his mouth, as he kept staring at her. She found the game amusing, continuing to shift in subtle ways to tease him with the view.
“What’s on your mind?” He cocked an eyebrow. “You don’t look too happy.”
“Would you think less of me if I told you I feel like I’m inhuman? I want to be normal again.”
He took two more mouthfuls while she poked her noodles around. “I’ve seen people who’ve gotten too much ‘ware. Most have both arms replaced, sometimes legs. The worst are the ones with their whole torso done up, and don’t even get me started on the full-conversion psychos. Nothing but a brain in an android body.” He shivered. “The nut jobs have plastisteel limbs, strength boosters, pain suppressors, dermal armor, headware, eyes, eighteen-inch blades in their arms, strength boosts, chem injectors… All you’ve got is a little speedware, eyes, and some sharp fingernails.”
“I feel stupid for giving up perfectly good eyes.” All sexiness in her posture fell to a forlorn slouch. “I miss them. I…” She mushed noodles around. “I don’t even remember what color they were.”
“Do you really notice the difference? The dissonance comes from feelings of being superhuman, which… I’ll admit your speedware is a prime source of, but”―he slid his empty food tray to the nightstand, sat up, and pulled her back against his chest with an arm around the stomach―“I’m sure you’re sane. It doesn’t matter to me how many electronic parts you’ve got inside you, or how few. The only difference between the eyes you had and the eyes you have, is these can do a lot more. Do you really feel different?”
“Not that I can afford the procedure, but Command would lose their minds if I got rid of any of it.” She gasped as he reached up and cupped her breast. “Pavo…”
“It’s your body, Risa.” He circled her nipple with the tip of his finger. She grabbed the gel pad and squeezed. “Aside from being magnificent, it’s completely yours to do with as you please. Don’t let Maris or any of his underlings tell you what you can or can’t do with it. Don’t let me tell you what to do with it.” He leaned in close, kissed the left side of her neck, and whispered in her ear. “It’s your choice. I’ll support you, whatever you decide.”
Risa arched her back as he continued fondling her chest. She bit her lip. “I don’t know what I want anymore. Do you think it makes me a coward?”
“No, Risa…” He moved her half-finished dinner to the nightstand, out of the way. “I think it makes you human.”
She closed her eyes, grinned, and let him pull her onto the bed.
lames billowed in a pyroclastic cloud, roaring toward Risa. The consuming torrent stretched like the immolating hand of a giant closing around her. She screamed. Her dream was wrong. The terrified cry was not that of a child. Awake, she shot upright, gasping for air. Thin white sheets fell, gathering in her lap. Her naked chest glistened with sweat. Stringy, wild hair stuck to her. Risa slouched over to one side, weight braced on her palm as she gazed out from under strands of ink-black hair at the distant wall, confused by being somewhere other than home.
Orange light from below highlighted the shadow of her legs against the sheets. The Comforgel pad had been set on manual and cranked up. Perspiration saturated the bedclothes, filling the Risa-shaped hollow in the thick gelatin slab with a puddle. She squirmed, but lacked the mental focus to get up. Realization of where she was dawned with a heavy bang from the bathroom, followed by the squeak of wet skin on tile. Pavo stumbled in to cling on the doorway, wearing nothing more than a layer of soap film.
“What was that scream? You all right?”
She covered her mouth and nose with both hands, breathing into her palms.
“Just a dream then?” He tiptoed over the carpet, trying to minimize dripping. “The tube still works, by the way.”
A laugh blurted out of her. “Yeah, just a dream. I’m okay. You’re getting water all over.”
“Anything you want to talk about?” He held her hand.
“Yes.” She gazed into his eyes. “Why’d you turn the damn bed up to Hades?”
“Uhh…” He reached over her and flicked at the panel. The glow faded, her body no longer visible through the linens. “I must’ve clipped it trying to get up without waking you. I’m on duty today, needed to get going early.”
She flung the sheets off and dangled her legs over the side, basking in the beautiful cold air. “It’s okay. Please don’t get shot without me.”
“I’ll do what I can.” He jogged for the bathroom. “Though, I was kind of hoping for some mild penetrating flesh trauma and maybe a knife wound or two this afternoon.”
Risa laughed, wiping her eyes. Not bothering to dress, she wandered over to a boxy onyx appliance on the low cabinet, the room’s assembler unit. After putting one of the complimentary mugs inside, she poked the console and made some coffee. Pavo rushed out of the bathroom, struggling into his pants. She removed the coffee and dialed up breakfast as he put on the rest of his clothes. While taking shallow sips of the too-hot liquid, she stared at the glossy black door of the ‘sem. The focus of her eyes alternated between Pavo’s reflection and the growing blob of OmniSoy turning into an egg-on-a-roll.
“Planning on wearing anything? Or are you going to laze around naked all day?” He sidled up behind her, wrapping his arms around her and putting his chin on her shoulder.
Risa shivered at the touch of his cold faux-leather coat on her bare skin. “I haven’t decided yet.” She folded her arms over his. “It’s nice to spend some time out of that armor. It doesn’t breathe at all.”
“I’m going to have this image in my head all day. The distraction could kill me.” He kissed her on the cheek.
She moved so the second kiss found her lips. “I’ll get dressed as soon as I buy something to wear… and have a shower. I woke up in a pool of sweat.”
He let go, and gathered the last of his gear from the nightstand. “I could always call out today.”
“After what just happened between us, you’ll probably die if you don’t.” She took her food to the table and sat, legs crossed. “That’s what always happens, right? The handsome cop says he’ll call out to spend the day with the girl. She tells him not to risk his job. He gets killed that day and she never sees him again.”
Pavo gaped. “A simple ‘yes’ would’ve been fine.”
The egg-on-a-roll didn’t seem any closer to appealing than a formless blob of beige goo. She imagined it challenging her. Go ahead. Bite me. “Sorry. I’m just expecting the worst.”
He swiped the bathrobe from the carpet on his way to the table and draped it over her shoulders. “There’s one little problem with your assumed scenario.”
“You’re just a patrol officer and it’s unlikely you’ll get into a firefight?”
“Investigator, actually. Detective Sergeant.” He patted her on
the shoulder. “No, you called me ‘the handsome cop.’” He used his NetMini as an improvised mirror. “Maybe the upper-middle end of average, but I’m being generous.”
She made a pff noise.
He leaned forward, whispering at her ear. “Just say the word. I’ve got 217 hours in the bank.”
“It’s not you I’m worried about.” She gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “I have a date with a general.”
He gripped her shoulder.
“No, Pavo. You can’t go with me. If it goes wrong, I don’t want you getting caught up in it. You’re in too deep. The Front needs people in the Defense Force.”
“So they do.” He stood up. “You’ve been wanting a change. Maybe we can sneak you in the door. You wouldn’t have to plant bombs anymore.”
Risa gathered the sandwich, laughing. “Me? Join the MDF? Are you insane?”
“I’m beginning to wonder.” He grinned, and made his way to the door. “Do me a favor… If your ‘angel’ gets a bad feeling about my day, drop me a vid and let me know.”
He lingered halfway out of the hotel room watching her eat for a minute before the door closed. She managed three-quarters of the food before the substance shifted in taste, the return to slime imminent. Abandoning the non-meal, she peeled her robe away and wandered to the bathroom, where she wadded it up and packed the fabric into the top of a boxy machine on the wall. After a quick shower, she pulled the now-clean garment out of the bottom end and put it on.
Once again in the chair by the patio door, she thumbed in an order for some unassuming civilian clothes and resumed her pastime of watching military ships come and go.
Risa. Raziel’s presence tensed every muscle in her back. If you still desire it, I will make good on my promise. I ask only that you’re sure you want to know, and that you do not abandon the cause.
Nano claws crept out of her fingertips into the table as she clutched the edge. His presence overwhelmed her―paralyzing, deafening, and warm. She shuddered, unable to react for several seconds.
“Yes,” she wheezed. “I have to.”
So be it. Her body shivered as each word rocketed along her nerves. General Everett is speaking at a cyberspace security conference in two days. Primus City Convention Center.
Risa wondered if the angel had become angry with her. His words had never hurt before. Her arms and legs clenched and cramped, wrenching an involuntary tear from her eye. She forced herself to straighten in her seat as a pixilated portrait formed on the sliding glass doors. It didn’t exist on the doors. The image came from her head, the smooth surface provided a convenient backdrop for her hallucination. A chocolate-skinned man old enough for grey to tinge the sides of his short-trimmed hair gazed at her. Vertical creases down his cheeks and a square-set jaw made him appear like someone’s woodcarving project. Green UCF dress uniform shoulders framed the lower half of the image. A nameplate on his breast pocket read ‘Everett’ beneath two stars.
This couldn’t be the face of the monster she envisioned ordering the murder of a little girl’s dad in his own home, right in front of her. Major General Everett looked like someone’s grandfather, a weary-eyed older man too thin for his uniform.
He’s trying to make me feel bad for the bastard who killed my daddy.
Raziel’s sigh caused her back to arch. No, Risa. I am showing you the man you have grown up hating. He has the answers you seek. He will be staying the night at the hotel, with a small contingent of security.
“S-small?” Her grip on the table tightened.
He is only a two-star general. The security of which Pavo spoke was for the base, not one man.
She gasped for air, slumping over the table as the angel’s presence released her. “I don’t want to kill his security team. It’s not their fault.”
When no response came, she glared at the peach-colored puddle on the plate. Even the crumbs had turned into droplets of ooze. “Please, Raziel. Let me do this.”
He will check in to room 9-78.
Raziel’s presence receded, and with it her claws.
She slumped out of the chair and rolled flat on her back, staring at the ceiling. Dread and anticipation locked horns. She had to know why he’d ordered her father killed. She had to bury the dark specter that had crawled after the little girl into the vent shaft seventeen years ago. It was stupid, reckless, and pointless, but necessary. Doubt and regret would forever taint her chance at a real life if she did nothing. Risa closed her eyes, fingertips holding the tears back.
“I’m sorry, Pavo… I have to know.”
Primus City Convention Center took up the entire west face of the central mall on Tier 2. Square ten-foot columns spread out in a grid pattern throughout the two-hundred-meter courtyard. Many had elevators inside them, a few led only to the military facilities on Tier 1. Families, mostly upper-middle class, milled around the various stores along the east and south wall or went into the Museum of Martian History in the north. Two men surrounded by the flashing holographic lights from their synthesizer suites played music for tips at opposite corners. Four tween girls in green-skirted uniforms stood behind a table with their mothers, selling cookies to support the UCF Scout Cadet program. Posters bragged about how the military gave kids a chance at a good life. Each poster had a word: Education. Commitment. Honor. Loyalty.
She scowled, disregarding the bustle around her as she stormed up a short staircase into the convention center. Ten-foot-tall holo-panels cycled through the event rosters. Seminars on self-improvement, a convention for something called Monwyn, dozens of individual business luncheons, as well as the cybersecurity conference at which Everett would be presenting.
The convention center hotel stretched upward sixteen stories, piercing the first tier and rising above the Martian surface as a flat-faced tower with tall, narrow windows of one-way black. Elevators waited on the far side of a lobby full of people who had better things to do than notice a woman with downcast eyes walking by in silence. A panel chimed when she waved her hand over it. Thirteen seconds later, one of the silver cylinders twisted to reveal an elevator capsule. She stepped in, turned to face the lobby, and poked her finger through the ninth floor of a sixteen-inch holographic representation of the hotel.
Risa glanced away from the blurred apparition of a normal woman in the capsule wall as it closed, focusing on a tiny red oval of light, representing the elevator creeping upward inside a graphical representation of the building. Her outfit was innocuous, like anyone else’s that might walk into the Red Tower Hotel in Primus City. The long-sleeved white shirt had a Chinese collar, and she paired it with black tights as well as a decorative skirt too short to matter. An inexpensive choice, while appearing the opposite at a casual glance. The ghost of the life she had lost wanted her to look at her reflection in the lift door. Minus the purple glowing eyes, the person in the world that existed beyond the face of mirrors could have been her if things were different.
Things had not been different.
Her armor, pistols, and NetMini waited for Pavo, on a table in another hotel in another city, back in Arcadia where she had shared a room with him for two days. A room that now contained a pre-recorded message apologizing for everything she was about to do. Twice he asked her to his apartment, and twice she dodged. Moving in with him would have been too official, too safe.
Moving in with him would’ve made it too hard to risk doing something like this.
She looked to the left and down, studying every detail in the false three-dimensional pattern of Martian rock flecks suspended in the clear plastic floor. The cylinder opened and destroyed the taunting specter. A narrow grey hallway, taller than it was wide, stretched out in a curve. Every ten meters, ridges in the walls and ceiling held small lights cleverly concealed amid the structural reinforcements. This building could survive surface bombardment. Crimson carpet, barely thick enough to absorb the sound of her steps, stretched out ahead to a ninety-degree right turn sixty meters away.
Risa walked like an au
tomaton, following the hallway until a faux-onyx door on her right bore ‘9-78’ in gold.
In the posture of a drunken marionette, she stood for several minutes, refusing to turn. She showed little reaction to a tall, dark-skinned man in a high-end suit who brushed her as he passed in the confined corridor. He seemed to return the indifference. She didn’t look important enough to acknowledge, which was fine with her.
Colonel Darren Black’s voice howled in her memories.
I can’t turn back now. She put her fingers on the wall above a silver panel. No ImDent chip, no NetMini, and no M3 plug for her to hack. Risa burst out with laughter at the beginner’s mistake. She should have taken care of access downstairs rather than going right for the elevator. I’m emotional already and he’s not even here yet. Do I really want this? She scraped her fingernails down the wall on either side of the sensor. If I enter this room, I won’t come back. She leaned forward, forehead to a synthetic onyx slab in the guise of a door. Frustration, rage, and sadness swirled into a shudder that failed to produce sound or tears. She looked up as a Class 1 doll pushing a housekeeping cart stopped nearby.
No. Daddy would want me to live. The last thing he did was shield the vent with his body.
Risa backed from the wall and took a step in the direction of the elevator. Room 9-73 on the opposite side chimed green. The door slid open. A beep from ahead announced the arrival of the elevator as the housekeeping doll ambled into the other room.
“Sergeant Valez, you and Ako are in 9-76. Sergeants Montez and Fine on the other side in 80.”
Hand of Raziel (Daughter of Mars Book 1) Page 27
