http://www.asstr.org/~srb
Don't read if under 18 or illegal in your little corner of the world, like you'll listen. This 
should appear only on my site http://www.asstr.org/files/Authors/srb/www/ F3, Futanari 
Palace, and basically should be wherever Pal's stuff is. Also at the Grey Archive, and 
some other places they might end up, they know who they are. Any websites that want to 
host my story must have expressed written consent to do so. I will list all websites that I 
have granted permission to list my stories there. If you are reading this now and find this 
on a new website, then please email me at somerandombastard (at) yahoo (dot) com

This is copyright me, so don't call it yours. Feedback can be left here. I created all the 
characters, they are all fictional, and any relevance to anyone living or dead, is incidental. 
I created the entire fictional universe in which they inhabit, if you're interested in writing 
in this world than feel free to email me. I've pretty willing. 

BTW there is plenty of different portions which have been reused by numerous science 
fiction shows movies and books, including nanotechnology, rapid pregnancy, and various 
scientific mumbo jumbo, which I will try to keep to a minimum. (Bounce a graviton 
particle beam off the main deflector dish…)

THIS CHAPTER contains futa/fem, oral.


Chapter 24
Failed Attempts


"And that is essentially what happened on Earth," Esteban Capistrano said, reading off 
the last piece of information on his pad. As part of his job requiring him to return to Earth 
he was supposed to write up a complete report. It was a funny situation to him, as it was. 
He didn't want to go to Earth, and he certainly wasn't running the operation. He wasn't a 
part of the military and had no rank on the ship, and next to no clearance. He could 
basically eat and piss, and talk about the weather, in space. His major job was to make 
sure that the people, who had to die, had to die for a reason, at least from a civilian 
standpoint, and to try to sway Thomas Pope. Having managed to do both successfully 
was no small feat. It was his own foolish fault for having suggested that Tom could help 
in the first place, largely as an excuse for his own failure. That combined with the PM's 
desire to have a 'test run' of his ships and his troops, and their effectiveness on going to 
Earth. He continued to persist that they would be needed shortly. Capistrano felt it was 
probably just another flight of fancy. You couldn't take control of a planet with an army 
their size.

"Hmph, alls well that ends well," Prime Minster Smith said, his voice conveying the 
boredom that he had over the whole affair. But he had made a decree that he needed to 
know about all actions occurring off planet. He hadn't realized how many small time 
businesses would fly people up for the novelty of feeling weightlessness or taking 
pictures of the planet from orbit. Well not anymore, with the current problems all civilian 
spaceflight had been halted.

"Well enough, sir," Capistrano knew to stay in line when he had to, which was just about 
all the time for the PM. The nail that sticks up gets hammered down.

"No casualties, both primary and secondary targets captured, all targets marked for 
elimination were taken care of. In and out with minimal interference from Earth's 
defense. All in all it was a well performed surgical strike. You've done a good job 
training the boys and girls down there, Blake," said the deep voice of Marshal Jamal 
Green speaking from respect. A tall man of the darkest of skin color, he would dwarf 
Capistrano even if he were standing. As it was, having him loom large behind him was 
disconcerting, which was why he did it.

"Hah! They were late, and they knew it!" said the cantankerous voice of General Blake, 
who rested his weary legs in his chair next to Capistrano. He wasn't the kind to allow for 
any manner of mistakes. He expected perfection from his troops, and knew he would 
never get it. But he could still demand it. If he had his way he would have led the mission 
personally, however with his ailing legs he didn't think the heavy Earth gravity would do 
him much good.

"Honestly Blake, the truth of the matter is that they did it and succeeded, late or not," 
Said Jeffrey Brody, the Secretary of Information, who did little to hide his contempt for 
military protocol. He believed that information was more important in the end than the 
military brawn needed to carry out that information. Yes the soldiers were important, 
men had to walk around with guns and all, but the men giving the orders were more 
important. Just so long as the soldiers knew who were giving orders to whom. So a 
couple of soldiers were a few hours late, interplanetary travel wasn't the same as 
marching up a hill. 'Not that those jackasses understand,' he mused.

"No, he's right, we can't afford for little slip ups. They lead to big falls," Josiah Smith 
said, not really caring all that much. Sitting from a seat of perceived impunity he felt 
unconcerned about such small things, but knew that he needed to sound as if he did. If 
people thought that they could screw up, even in the slightest, then they would. Then they 
would lie about it, do more and more, and lie more and more, and then he'd have to do 
another purge.

"We'll see how they like a round of deep space exercises. Maybe they'll show up from 
that on time?" Blake said with a subdued grin.

"Sounds like that'll take care of that," Smith said, dusting his hands. 

"Just one question," Eve said, stepping forward. She seemed to be able to hide in the 
walls, and come forward when she needed, or wanted, to allow herself to be seen and 
heard.

"What is it?" Smith asked annoyed.

"You say in the report that there was more than once instance where Dr. Thomas Pope 
and Lieutenant Kyle Byrne initiated romantic overtures," Eve said, quoting from 
memory. She could locate weak spots in people like none other. Physical, mental, or 
psychological. 

"Wait a minute, you mean that redhead from the other night?" Smith asked, genuinely 
interested for the first time during this meeting.

"Yes, she is the one who suggested that you choose another girl in the seraglio, two 
nights ago," Eve was able to make even his more sordid debaucheries sound like state's 
business. Not that any of the men in the room were ignorant to his perversions. 

"I did see the two of them that night, he seemed especially happy to see her," Capistrano 
said, not really having a reason to do so. But he didn't want to not bring it up, if someone 
else had noticed him noticing that. He knew there were enough image sensors and 
monitors in the entire operation to see just about everything, if not enough people to 
process it all.

"So the little tart has a main squeeze. No wonder she didn't want to be with me," Smith 
tapped his chin, forming an idea.

"Is there something you'd like me to do, some kind of special surveillance or information 
dig?" Brody asked, always trying to justify his budget. Small jobs that fulfilled the PM's 
fancies worked much easier than long budget reports. Especially now that he and Green 
had been so close to finishing their ultimate goal. Besides, Brody liked to watch.

"No, I have another idea. Meeting is adjourned boys, Green, Brody, I'll talk to you later. 
Capistrano, see if you can't do something about this whole business in the sky, wouldn't 
hurt the popular opinion numbers. Keep up the good work with the men Blake, we'll 
need them sooner than later," Smith said, standing up. He was in a good mood, normally 
his meetings ended less amicably. 

"Good day Mr. Prime Minster," Capistrano said, nodding. Capistrano took his cue and 
stood up, not wanting to spend any more time than needed. He knew from experience that 
Smith didn't want to shake his hand, so he didn't offer. He just took his pad and left the 
room, filing after the other men.

"Let's see if Amber is awake," Smith smiled, scheming once again. He walked towards 
his chambers with a sense of purpose, taking pleasure in everyone parting and making 
way for him as though he were divine. He actually believed it sometimes.

Amber was indeed awake, although she had yet to rise from bed. She was still wearing 
the blue set of lingerie she had been wearing last night, when Smith had lost interest in 
her. By that she meant that his erectile dysfunction was a problem again. She had just 
wished that she would have known sooner, so she could have gotten to bed earlier. It was 
better than his premature ejaculation at least, she didn't have to pretend to be in the throes 
of orgasm from the two pump chump, or stroke his ego afterwards.

She hadn't bothered to get out of bed, she rolled over to roll and smoke a very large joint, 
puffing deeply from the strong weed. It was one of the only things that got her out of bed 
in the morning anymore. She couldn't remember the last day that she hadn't been under 
the influence of something or another. She had always steered clear of heroin and 
morphine, fear of needles, but she smoked pot like a chimney, and loved opium. She 
made a mental note to attempt to score some more opium if she could. Giving the young 
girl her money to escape had cut down on her drug money. 'Stupid little slut probably 
came crawling back' she thought.

Being a call girl had been old to her for some time now. But there was no retirement for 
harlots. They didn't get a benefits package and go off to play canasta with other old 
whores, and live out their golden years in happiness or luxury. They stayed with 
someone, died young, or lived penniless. It's not like she was learning some kind of skill, 
and she wasn't the type for school, or working for a living. She was fortunate for now 
that she could still live off of her looks. 'Yeah, I'm real fortunate for this' she sighed, 
smoke billowing out of her mouth.

"Oh good, you're awake," Smith said, grinning from ear to ear. That was a trouble sign 
for Amber. He had been noticeably peaceful lately, and that usually meant he was going 
to go on a mean streak sometime. She just hoped it would be on one of the new girls.

"Oh yes I'm awake my big daddy," Amber said with a smile, knowing it was show time. 

"Good, good, I have something for you to do," he said lecherously.

"Ooooh, this early in the day big daddy? You spoil me," Amber wished that she had 
feigned exhaustion for at least a little longer. Anything to avoid this. She knew something 
was going on, and if he had all day to find some devious machinations to arouse his 
desires, she knew that it wasn't going to be pleasant. Last time she had to see a doctor 
that day. 

"Oh no, not that. I need you to do something for me. Tom Pope, know him?" Smith had 
mentioned him before, but he didn't expect her to pay any attention. She was always 
fucked up or strung out anyway.

"Big headed guy, showed up from Earth a few days ago with the new girl, in charge of 
something or anther," Amber didn't know him that well, but she did pay a little attention 
every now and then. Most of it didn't really matter to her all that much, but she didn't 
have anything that really mattered to her any more.

"Yeah, I need you to seduce him for me," Smith's eyes flashed for a moment at his 
scheme.

"Seduce him? Oh why do you want me to do that? I could never cheat on you, you know 
that," Amber lied, trying to subdue her inner anger. The very last thing that she wanted to 
do was to be passed around from guy to guy to fill his desires. She had seen girls that 
happened to, they were treated like little more than borrowed property, used and abused 
even more than she already had been. And she knew that she was closer to the end of 
riding her looks than the start.

"He seems too good, too nice. If he cheats on his love interest, that new redhead, well, 
it'll make things interesting. People are their most honest when they're scared, and I'd 
love to hold something like this over his head. I think he's lying, and a little proof 
wouldn't hurt," Smith always loved these diversions. Instead of taking care of the planet 
or running things, this was what made his day. This and the deviant sex. 

"You don't have to fuck him, just get him to do some kind of infidelity. Do it where it 
can be seen. It'll be amusing, if nothing else, and it's something right up your alley," he 
didn't feel the need to convince her. She was going to do what he commanded of her. But 
she might half ass it too, which was the only reason he was being as kind as he was. Not 
that he was being especially kind.

"Anything for you, big daddy. How about I take some time and clean up real good, kay?" 
Amber didn't like the sound of this too much. If nothing else she hoped to use this as a 
few days reprieve from her normal 'duties'. "I'm sure that you got a lot to do, running the 
whole show like this."

"Yes, yes, fine, whatever," He said, suddenly becoming uninterested in the entire thing. 
He wanted the results here and now, but they weren't going to be as forthcoming. He 
decided to find another something or someone to keep him busy for now.

*

Kyle Byrne was on edge. She was left to be a whore in a harem, a fate she would ditch in 
preference of torturous interrogation. Or perhaps to explain it more accurately, she would 
be able to understand it better if she were held as a real prisoner. Her military training had 
in part been designed for her to endure physical and psychological torture. Whether it 
was a long interrogation, imprisonment, drugging, psychological ploys, physical and 
mental humiliation, or just simple torture, she had received real life training to withstand 
it as long as she could. She would almost certainly be broke. This was a simple matter of 
fact, if it took minutes, hours, days, or years it would happen eventually. Next to no 
people could stand out forever. But if she gave her planet twenty-four hours, they would 
have the chance to change all manner of information that she could offer. Forty-eight and 
she would have bought them enough time. Anything over a week and she was in the 
heroic category, and a month or longer and they should make statues in her memory at 
her military academy, because she will be reported among the casualties.

This was nothing like what she had expected out of Martian imprisonment. She was 
wearing the most conservative thing she owned, a revealing green dress that cost tens of 
thousands, and gorgeous shoes other girls would have lusted after, while she would have 
preferred a t shirt, jeans, and running shoes. Even with her roommate, her room was filled 
with more extravagancies than she knew what to do with. She had any kind of object in 
her room the same day she requested it. Clothes, jewelry, any manner of entertainment 
systems, there were even top of the line computers, even though she knew that they were 
being monitored. 

Perhaps more importantly, she was eating the best meal she had in a very long time, 
better than home cooking, or restaurant food, even better than the food blenders. This was 
real, gourmet food, the kind that she had almost never enjoyed. Her mother and father 
hadn't been wealthy people, and she felt that getting pizza or Chinese food on the 
weekend was a real treat. The army wasn't the type to spoil her with extravagant meals 
either. The only memorable meal that had given her was a celebration dinner with a steak 
for her graduation from officer school. Other than that she had been a cereal, sandwich, 
and one course dinner kind of girl.

But this meat was delicious, it was succulent and cooked perfectly, soaking in the most 
flavorful broth, along with roasted garlic potatoes and carrots. She couldn't help but eat 
until her stomach was full. It didn't take especially long either, a life in the military had 
trained her to not waste time eating. She passed on the dessert, knowing it was 
unnecessary. 

She was angry with herself for liking the food. She didn't want to love the food of her 
captors, but she did. She knew that food was vital for her strength, but she would rather 
eat stale bread and water than actually enjoying it. More importantly, she didn't like 
living like this. She knew that it was a gilded cage, that she was imprisoned by all of this 
luxury. Yet she had next to no options yet. Since she had arrived she had spent a lot of 
time looking for a means of escape. It wasn't an easy thing, for sure. It was made all the 
more difficult because of Tom. 

While she had a great deal of respect and admiration for him, she knew that he was in 
poor physical condition. Yes he was skinny, but he didn't have the physical strength to 
climb or lift, which would not help. He lacked any kind of covert experience, and would 
probably make as much noise as a herd of cattle in any kind of escape. He was a civilian, 
and she knew that he probably lacked the endurance to run more than a mile at best, and 
they would probably have to run much farther, especially with faster people behind them. 
He was a pacifist, which meant that she didn't expect him to be willing to actually fire a 
gun at attackers, or be a part of an attempt to use violence, especially one that might hurt 
civilians. Even if he were willing he would probably shoot like a girl or like an action 
hero, neither of which would help. Perhaps worst of all, she knew that he might want to 
stay here. He would insist on staying and helping because he had some kind of misplaced 
sense of justice and honor. It was funny how noble that same misplaced sense of duty had 
been when it came to helping Earth.

She walked back to her room, the shoes clacking on the marble floor as she went, turning 
more than a couple of eyes. Few would even approach her, and none had said anything 
even approaching a romantic advance. She knew what it was, she was a marked woman. 
One of the Prime Minster's whores, she could only imagine what that would mean to the 
people here. Expulsion, certainly. Torture, perhaps. Death? Maybe. 

She sighed as she walked over to the guard at the entrance to the seraglio, which was a 
nice euphemism that some of the people used to describe the whorehouse that she was 
forced to live in. In all honesty it was more akin to a college dormitory than some kind of 
elaborate and highly stylized building. The rooms were extravagantly furnished, but were 
normal in all other respects. They were largely the same look and feel no matter which 
you were in, as interchangeable and replaceable as the girls who lived there. The central 
or group room was akin to a recreation room, with some games in one corner, a television 
in another, as well as a kitchenette on the far side.

She walked inside of the community room, which branched out into each woman's room. 
She noticed that most of the girls were out. The place was usually livelier, girls would be 
playing pool or ping-pong, shopping online or watching television. She tried to keep 
mental notes of everyone's habits, their daily routines and when they come in and when 
they leave. It might never be important, but it might be the difference between missing 
someone that she didn't want to see, and in turn meaning some small measure of victory. 
She knew how fickle people were with their schedules, and how most large plans failed 
whenever they relied on too many variables. But doing something felt more proactive 
than simply sitting down and lamenting her situation. And she wanted to make sure that 
her reflexes, physical and mental, were as sharp as she could hone them. So she made 
mental notes, because that was the only place that she knew they would be safe.

She looked at the door to her room and tried to hold back the seething anger. She hadn't 
cared too much about her new roommate Chloe, she was annoying more than anything 
but she had grown somewhat protective of the older woman. The girls around here were 
all probably twenty years younger than Chloe, but were spoiled beyond measure and 
treated her like she was a plaything. 

Nothing could describe the degree of their spoiled pampering more than right now. Two 
girls were standing at the entrance to her shared room, up to some vicious scheme to 
inflict suffering. One girl was constantly flicking the lights on and off, while brightening 
and dimming them. The other was constantly making ghost noises, as much as she could 
in between laughs. This was particularly cruel to Chloe, the auburn haired woman who 
was more than a little touched in the head, as her son and husband had died. She was 
huddled in the corner with a blanket over her head, shaking back and forth from the girl's 
'game'.

Kyle silently stepped out of her shoes, and tread barefoot to the two girls. With her feet 
bare she was completely silent, and was upon them in no time. One hand clutched at the 
throat of the girl flicking the light switch, pinning her against the wall. The other grabbed 
onto the ponytail of the girl making ghost noises, yanking her head back at a painful 
angle.

"What the fuck bitch?" asked the girl who's jugular was being slightly constricted.

"And a nice what the fuck to you too. What the fuck is wrong with you?" Kyle snarled, 
eyes flaring.

"Nothing, we're just having fun," she said, defending herself.

"Yeah this looks like a real riot," Kyle said sarcastically.

"Hey look, we're just playing with her. It's just a game, no need to get your panties in a 
bunch," said the girl who had been moaning, who was being held in place by Kyle's firm 
grasp.

"Oh a game is it? Want to play another game?" Kyle asked, not waiting for an answer. 
Her hand around the neck of the girl began to tighten. "I call this game 'choke a bitch'. 
My old boyfriend taught me it. The rules are simple. See all you do is keep pulling the 
throat tighter and tighter," Kyle explained, squeezing the girl's throat for emphasis, "And 
as you do that, the blood and air to your brain gets cut off. After a few seconds it gets 
hard to breath, then you get nervous. You start to want to fight back, but if you do, then 
something bad can happen. Fingernails dig into the throat, and that can only get worse. 
Someone ripping your throat out can get scary. That's when you get panicky. Your heart 
rate soars, your breathing quickens, or it tries to, but you can't breathe, not really. You 
start to think, when is she gonna let go, is she gonna let go? Am I gonna pass out? Will 
she stop when I faint? Will I wake up? Is this how I'm gonna die?" Kyle looked at the 
girl directly in the eye. Then she let go of her throat. The girl grasped her own throat at 
the fingernail marks as she gasped for air, falling onto her knees. Kyle looked at the girl, 
obviously in pain, and then looked at the other girl, hair still controlled by Kyle's grasp, 
who stood there aghast. "Want to play? I think it's your turn." 

"N,n,n,no," she stuttered, afraid, no longer fighting against Kyle's firm grasp of her 
ponytail.  

"Oh, ok then. I guess we won't be playing any games any more then, huh?" Kyle asked. 
When there was no answer she reiterated, "I asked you a question, are we going to play 
any more games?"

"No, no more games," she said, quivering slightly.

"What about you?" Kyle looked down at the girl she had been choking, who had 
seemingly caught her breath.

"Fuck you bitch," she spat out, her voice hoarse.

"Aw, I feel the same way about you. You know 'choke a bitch' isn't the only game that I 
learned. Some of the games are even a little rough, and you and me can play these games 
all day," Kyle said sweetly.

"Fuck you and fuck your games. I'm not dealing with you and your crazy roommate 
again," she said, giving her the finger from the ground.

"Well I'll take that as a vote of 'no more games' then," Kyle said, watching Old Angelica 
emerge from behind.

"Is there a problem here ladies?" came the voice of Angelica. She always seemed to hold 
an air of dignity and class, despite being the hen mother of a gaggle of whores.

"I don't think so, we were just finishing up a game," Kyle said, smiling as though nothing 
had gone wrong.

"Nuh, no," said the second girl as she tugged her ponytail free from Kyle. 

"Fuck it, I'm leaving," the girl who was still rubbing her throat said.

"You girls play nice from now on, I'll be seeing you," Kyle smiled and waved her fingers 
goodbye as the girls walked away.

"What was that about?" Angelica asked, looking suspiciously at Kyle.

"Just a little problem, that needed taking care of," Kyle answered, looking at her.

"I was asking about how you took care of it, 'Choke a bitch?'" Angelica noted, raising an 
eyebrow.

"It's simple, but effective," Kyle said plainly with a nod.

"You're not like the other girls. That wasn't some kind of sexual game, that was painful. 
An attack by someone who knew what she was doing, who knew how to inflict as much 
pain as she wanted without actually knocking her out, or causing permanent damage. Just 
who are you and what are you doing here, Kyle?" Angelica asked.

"I'm just Kyle Byrne, here because I don't have a choice. What else would I be?" Kyle 
answered coolly. She felt herself open a little bit, and she didn't like it.

"Some kind of intelligence officer, some rebel or just a general pain in my ass. Or maybe 
all three. I guess I'll have to find out," Angelica said, walking away. She turned her head 
and said aloud "If you're going to play anymore games with these girls, keep in mind that 
the Prime Minister isn't going to look kindly on damaged goods. Unless he's the one 
damaging them."

Kyle shrugged and walked into her room, rubbing her forehead.

"Don't worry about them, hopefully that should be the end of their shit," Kyle said, to the 
huddled mass under the blanket. She had seemed to stop crying, but Kyle couldn't be 
sure. "You ok?"

"Yeah I'm ok I mean I don't know what to do sometimes they just act really bitchy to me 
but I know that they are being bitches and I can't do anything to stop them because it's 
like everyone wants to pick on me because they think it's funny and I don't think it's 
funny I just think that they are being mean bitches but they don't care about hurting me 
actually I guess that's what makes it so funny for them to hurt me but it's like if I don't 
act hurt and sad and stuff at what they start doing then it's like they always come back 
with something worse to try to do to me so I'm better off just being really hurt the first 
time but I still have to deal with whatever they think is really funny for the time being 
and," Chloe babbled, slowly showing herself from under the blanket.

"Well they're gone now. Hopefully that should stop," Kyle said, sighing. She picked up 
the blanket and watched her flinch before returning it to Chloe's bed. 

"Thanks," she said, smiling faintly. She was a pretty woman, even with the odd gray hair, 
caused most likely by stress than by age. More cute than gorgeous, and it showed 
especially when she smiled like that. "It's been a long time since anyone cared enough to 
defend me. A couple of people tried, but they gave up. I'm a lost cause."

"Yeah that's the spirit," Kyle said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. She didn't know exactly 
why she did defend her, perhaps it was her own misplaced sense of justice, or just a 
chance to do something with her pent up frustration.

"Did your old boyfriend actually do that to you?" Chloe asked, feeling her own neck. 

"Nope," Kyle said, shaking her head. "I'd kick his ass if he even tried."

"Oh," Chloe said, standing up and sitting on her bed. 

"Aren't you going to go eat?" Kyle asked.

"No I don't eat a lot. I can't gain any more weight or else," Chloe started to nibble on her 
fingernails. She decided to change the subject, "Did you find your friend from Earth?"

"No, he was at a meeting," Kyle sighed, wishing she could just buy an hour of Tom's 
time, alone and unmonitored to talk about important things.

*

Tom was indeed at a meeting, another long, and boring one for him. He had spent a lot of 
time in the last couple days in these meetings. Most of the meetings were simply going 
over information that each scientist had looked into, all of which could easily be read. 
But scientists were scientists, and they needed a place and a time to have the opportunity 
to talk shop. And doing so with other scientists was always an offer they could not refuse, 
almost as good as talking to adoring students.

"And in essence, and I do mean to toot my own horn here, but my supposition has been 
proven to have the most immediate chance for successful implementation. They were 
immunizing people against radiation near the turn of the millennium, and the process is 
essentially the same. While I admit this is not a long term form of protection, it will 
extend the window of opportunity to allow us to determine the best course of action to 
help the people here," Said the even keeled voice of Dr. Diop Mambety, as he showed his 
findings on the screen.

"We've gone over this a million times Mambety, there is nowhere near enough time or 
provisions in place to immunize a general populace with this kind of a thing. We're not 
talking about the Measles, for chrissake," Capistrano said, a little irritated.

"Capistrano," Tom began to say

"Damn it Capistrano let the man talk, we've had to hear you babble on forever," Sam 
Stewart said, quick to rise to the defense of anyone being attacked by Capistrano.

"Go to hell," Capistrano said as plainly as if he quoted scientific fact

"Capistrano I'm afraid that we all agreed to reserve time for questions and comments 
after each person's presentations, in the best interests of conveying all the information in 
one cohesive presentation," Tom said, trying to be diplomatic about things.

"Indeed, Esteban, if you will allow me to finish. I was going to say that while the 
immunization is going to be a difficult prospect to achieve, within three years if the 
government is willing to put this plan into action we will be able to immunize nearly two-
thirds of the planet, and these are conservative estimates. Within five years we could 
immunize over ninety percent of the people," Mambety said.

"Why would we achieve so much in the first three years and less in the following two?" 
Capistrano asked, again out of turn. Mambety sighed, wiping the sweat off of his caramel 
colored skin. "Sorry." Capistrano added.

"The problem isn't just the people, it's the entire structure of the ecosystem. The 
radiation is not just affecting people, but also all natural wildlife, and indeed all plant life. 
As the radiation continues, everything is going to become more and more scarce, as there 
are less plants to feed less animals, all of whom will be getting sicker at a more rapid rate. 
And as the animals and plants get less, there will be less food, and accordingly, less of the 
raw materials necessary to create the vaccine," Mambety took a drink from the no longer 
icy water. He didn't bother to mention that as time went on, there would be less people to 
immunize, and to consume the animal and the plant matter. "If there are no more 
questions, the remainder of the technical details are in the paper, and I don't find it 
necessary to read them out for you. I trust you gentlemen still recall how to read."

"Capistrano?" Samuel Sawyer asked, outstretching a hand.

"No, thanks," he smiled sarcastically.

"If I may I have a question," Rohan Gupta said, raising his hand unnecessarily. 

"By all means, Rohan." Mambety nodded in his direction.

"This is actually aimed towards Tom. Tom, what is the status of your research into 
nanorobotics? From what I had heard there was a giant breakthrough, and now there's, 
well, no new word," Gupta looked at Tom, noticing his uneasiness.

"Well, it's a bit of a long story," Tom tried to avoid the question.

"We have a lot of time," Capistrano noted.

"That we do," Richard Lennon said.

"I only ask because it would seem that if this breakthrough with nanorobotics could be 
implemented within any kind of reasonable time table, even a generation, it would seem 
that it could remove the issue of the radiation effecting humans. Perhaps even the animal 
issue as well, while the focus can be put on maintaining and preserving the plant life, and 
the ecosystem at large," Gupta said, intentionally stroking Tom's ego. He knew from his 
own personal experience that it was sometimes the best way to get something from 
anyone, but a scientist especially. 

"Well honestly, if you must know, it was all a bit of a bust," Tom lied, not really enjoying 
having to do so.

"A bust?" Stewart asked, disbelieving that Tom could have failed.

"Yes, it was a bust, at least for the supposed breakthrough," Tom admitted, trying to 
seem a bit disheartened himself.

"But Thomas, from what I've heard the nanites had reached the stage of human testing. 
Surely you wouldn't have advanced to this stage yet, without knowing what is going on?" 
Mambety had been briefed as well.

"I'll be frank, I was working for the government, and they are the government. They 
don't want to spend a dime more than they have to, and they don't want to wait a minute 
longer than they think that they should. Ironically, they overspend at every chance and 
make more delays than they'd ever need to. I had thought we had reached a 
breakthrough, and I needed time and money to test it. But the government had already 
believed that they had wasted far too much money on it. They want results that they 
could see and feel, not long winded and well researched papers, which few of them could 
interpret or understand. So I was forced to either live with a potentially permanent delay, 
or risk a human subject," Tom acknowledged.

"Wait, so you chose to endanger a human life to test a scientific experiment?" Capistrano 
said quickly. He was barely able to contain the word hypocrite from escaping his mouth. 
The two had grown apart, largely because as a youth he was willing to allow subjects to 
submit to an experiment, which ultimately cost eighteen volunteers their lives. In the end 
he had maybe helped save at least a third of a million, but that choice still weighed heavy 
on his soul.

"The experiment was never at a point where it could endanger the subject. As I said, the 
government wasn't fond of the large amount of machinery and the money that I would 
need for it. So we found a volunteer, and she was willing to undergo the experiment. I 
didn't really like it, but my choices were limited. I could either abandon the project, in 
which case they would find someone else to carry it on without me, or I could do 
everything possible to make sure everything was done safely, and that nothing would be 
done that wasn't irreversible," Tom explained, knowing how hypocritical he must seem.

"But Tom, what exactly was the goal of the project?" Gupta asked.

"In essence the goal was just to actually create a working nanorobot prototype. 
Theoretical models had existed for some time, although they were largely plot devices in 
poor or mediocre science fiction at best. There have been molecular machines for some 
time, but those were too large. We had to construct a nanobot, and the problem is 
cramming enough in one small robot for it to matter. We didn't have the option of 
specialized nanorobots for each type of cell, organizing something like that would be near 
impossible. You can't tell the nanobots to go to skin cells or blood cells easily, there's a 
difficulty involved in transmitting them, and moving them from area to area," Tom said, 
thankful for a brief chance to tell the truth.

"So you made a 'one size fits all' nanorobot?" Mambety asked, intrigued by the notion.

"Essentially, yes. So we had to create nanobots capable of doing everything. In and of 
itself, that was the downfall. We tried to give each nanobot so much, but we ran out of 
space. Theses things by definition have to work on such a small scale, that if they get too 
large they interfere with the normal operations of a cell, which is counterintuitive to what 
we were trying to accomplish. I could build the robots but I could never really create a 
stable means of sending messages to them, or to keep them powered. It was a 
combination of hardware and software problems. Even with the possibility of self-
replication, it wasn't possible to create one that was small enough to be feasible, but large 
enough to have everything that they needed," Tom shrugged, hoping that it was an 
adequate enough bullshit. 

"Hmph, breakthrough indeed," Capistrano snorted. "Who came up with that?"
 
"Mori Yoshi," Tom said, with a deep sigh. He hadn't given his old rival, colleague, and 
eventually friend enough consideration. He still believed, along with everyone in the 
room, that Yoshi was dead.

"May he rest in peace," Stewart said, touching his forehead, heart, and each of his 
shoulders.

"He was a worthy scientist," Michael Lennon nodded.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to speak ill of the dead," Capistrano had felt especially guilty, 
as he had known that Yoshi would be killed. He had argued for his life, but his voice 
didn't hold much weight.

"I just kind of wish I could see his funeral, just something to give a sense of finality," 
Tom rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"Hell I would have expected you to talk at his funeral," Samuel said, his voice full of 
respect.

"Why would you have expected that?" Capistrano hadn't known how close Yoshi had 
grown, but neither had Stewart. No one else in the room chose to acknowledge the 
question, and it just lingered about in the air, denying any other potential conversation.

The silence of the room was stirred by a knocking sound at the door.

"Who is it?" Tom asked, out of habit more than anything else. He hadn't heard of anyone 
knocking at the door in any of the science labs he had ever worked at. Especially not one 
of the high security ones, such as at this facility.

"Claudette," came the bright and cheery voice from behind the door.

"Come in," Tom gave Capistrano a look of question, but Capistrano just shrugged, not 
knowing why his wife had come.

"Oh hello boys," Claudette came, bringing in a smile that seemed infectious. It was like a 
light had come into the room and cleaned it from the dark mood. A pretty woman bearing 
food did just that.

"Good afternoon," Tom said with a nod. 

"I was just sitting around the cafeteria and thought you boys might have worked up an 
appetite. There's no sense in having to eat everything when it's cold, and stale," she said, 
carrying a handcart behind her. "So I made you boys some sandwiches."

"Capistrano, let me say that I am more than pleased to meet your better half," Mambety 
said with a smile. He took her hand and kissed it, an old endearing trait rarely used in this 
day and age. "Charmed my dear."

"Give it a rest Mambety," Capistrano said.

"MMM, and a cook to boot. Surely you spoil this fool of a man, Capistrano hardly seems 
worthy of your time," Mambety said as he enjoyed the sandwich. He enjoyed upsetting 
Capistrano better.

"Oh you flirt. But now I've a question, why do you call my husband Capistrano, and not 
by his first name?" Claudette asked, genuinely interested. She hadn't spent much time 
with her husband's colleagues.

"We were all working on a project some time ago, except for Mambety. It was when we 
worked to cure Desyinatrinom disease. It was myself, Samuel Stewart here, Michael 
Lennon, Rohan Gupta, Mori Yoshi," Tom paused for a second, even saying his name hurt 
now, "And Esteban Vazquez, along with your husband, Esteban Capistrano." 
 
"Vazquez, there's a name I hadn't heard of in over a year," Capistrano said, a bit 
longingly. He looked at his wife and said, "His was the funeral we attended, where I 
spoke."

"Oh, yes I remember now," Claudette nodded.

"If he's even gone," Stewart said with an indignant snort. 

"What are you talking about? He's dead, ok? I spoke at his funeral," Capistrano said, as if 
he had just proved something.

"That's what we thought about you," Stewart added, unconvinced.

"I spoke at yours," Tom said quietly, remembering how solemn that day had been.

"You…spoke at my funeral?" Esteban asked quizzically. 

"Yes, I was one of a few who chose to speak at your funeral. Because you were so young, 
it wasn't as if you had prepared any kind of funeral arrangements, and with your wife 
gone it was more or less left to your lawyer to take care of. Your family was still in 
mourning, and he had reached out to the scientific community to get help. I had always 
regretted that we never had a chance for reconciliation. I saw speaking at your funeral as 
a chance to do something to try to relieve my own conscience," Tom admitted, finding it 
a strange thing to say now. How do you describe to a man that you went to his funeral, 
that you wept, that you lamented his death and your inability to mend fences with a man? 
Perhaps even more difficult, how do you explain to the man that you still find you can't 
mend those same fences that seemed so important, and so much easier at the time of his 
death?

"He was very good," Lennon noted with a nod.

"Brought the house down if memory serves," Stewart added in.

"Wow, I, I never knew," Capistrano rubbed his eyes. He hadn't had the chance to see the 
result of faking his death. He hadn't really been concerned at his own fake death. He was 
more concerned about his wife. Watching his funeral seemed morbid. He never knew that 
Thomas Pope had cared enough to want to reconcile, to want to speak at his own funeral. 
He suddenly became aware of the fact that if given the chance, he probably wouldn't 
have opted to speak at Tom's funeral.

*

Tom let out a loud sigh and tried to focus himself. He laid out a towel on the grassy 
ground, appreciating the small patch of nature that he could have the time to enjoy. From 
a Buddhist standpoint he should know that he needed to give up his attachment to 
material goods. Nature was a form of beauty and a desire for the material. But he had 
wanted to meditate for some time, and he just found his center more easily in nature. The 
issue wasn't his physical attachment to the material wealth of nature, it was that there was 
precious little actual nature that he had access to. He couldn't leave the Martian Manor, 
that much he knew well enough. The Manor itself was essentially three separate buildings 
in a U formation. In the middle of the U was a large grassy courtyard, which he had 
finally built up the courage to go out to. Or to try to at least.

As soon as he approached the courtyard he was pounced on by half a dozen well armed 
soldiers. The only way he knew of to the courtyard was through the bathhouse, and he 
hadn't had the clearance to go out there. He had found it amusing, he wasn't there to peek 
in on whomever happened to be bathing there. Quite the opposite, he wanted to escape 
people. The guards had persisted that he didn't have the clearance for the bathhouse, 
while he had argued that he wasn't going to the bathhouse, and that he did have clearance 
for the courtyard. It took some discussion, and a conversation with their superiors, but 
they finally acquiesced. Tom was rather surprised that they had, but he knew to take 
advantage of an opportunity that he may not have again.

So there he sat in the lotus position, with two guards less than ten feet from his position. 
As if to make his attempt at meditation even more difficult, they continued to talk lewdly 
while aiming their firearms in his general direction. Tom didn't give half a care about 
who they 'wouldn't mind fucking'.

He just sighed and tried to steady his mind. Many of his thoughts as of late were 
confused, conflicting against each other. He felt that he had a humanitarian duty to all 
people to do what it is that he could to help. Some kind of moral choice wasn't his to 
make. Whether it was helping the people who were innocent or if his work would help 
the people who had been guilty of murdering his friends, if he had the chance to do 
something, then he should offer his assistance. Still it wasn't duty that he had taken up. 
This was something that had been forced onto him. There was a difference in his mind 
between choosing to do something and doing it under the barrel of a gun, no matter how 
noble the duty was.

But his mind kept coming back to those whom he had lost, and why he should give a care 
about saving the people who had killed them. Nadia and Yoshi were both reported as 
dead. Terra was still a potential casualty. On top of those three lives were the guards who 
had given their lives so needlessly. While they had seemed like little more than a 
background to his everyday life, they were people, and people who had been killed, 
murdered. They each had families and lives, weaknesses and strengths. In his mind he 
knew that they should mean no less to him than the murders of Nadia and Yoshi, and 
potentially Terra.

But they didn't mean nearly as much as the people whom he had been so close to. While 
he had spent a great deal of time studying Buddhism doctrine and meditation, he was by 
no means a Buddhist. He believed in it, but did not have the will power to really live his 
life according to the doctrines. He still ate meat, and drank on occasion. He still desired 
women and sex, even though it had been some time since he had felt a woman's touch.

He simply missed his colleagues. Nadia had been a kind and warm soul, always there to 
offer up a smile when he needed it. Although he hadn't known her for long, he had 
labored with her for so long under such close quarters that he had grown to know her 
well. She was his boss but never let it get in between their working relationship, and their 
friendship.

He had known Yoshi for most of his professional life. They had started out as rivals, 
sparked when Yoshi had stolen an idea that he had. He had built upon it and made it his 
own, but not without Thomas's unaccredited original idea. And then they wound up 
working together, albeit a rocky relationship. They were in many ways different people. 
He was more reserved, more relaxed, and easy going. Tom was considered the 'safe' 
scientist, always a calm voice, and a level head. Yoshi was quite the opposite, he was 
always more dangerous. Never at ease just treading water, he was more here and there, 
living in the moment, whether it was alcohol, cigarettes, or women. Especially women. 

'And he had to be a Yankee's fan to boot!' Thomas thought, recalling the night they had 
reconciled their rivalry. A night at Fenway Park, the third Fenway anyway, more alcohol 
than either should have handled, and a twenty five inning game where Tom's beloved 
Boston Red Sox had beaten Yoshi's New York Yankees six to two on a walk off grand 
slam. Since then they had grown to be close friends, and Mori Yoshi is one of the few 
people that he enjoyed working with. 'Was' Tom reminded himself, 'Was one of the few 
people I enjoyed working with.'

"Beat it boys," came a loud and feminine voice. Somehow it had pierced through his 
concentration, not that he had achieved much in the short time. But it wasn't the volume 
of her voice, but rather the femininity of it, which seemed to slice through his meditation. 
When his eyes opened he saw a blurry vision of a blond woman, rather attractive if not 
sullen. A true beauty in her youth, she looked to him the type that had seen too much, 
been sad too often, and done too much to stave off that sadness. Most men would have 
dropped their jaws, seeing her large breasts barely contained by a tiny semi transparent 
two-piece red bikini. To Tom, it was a second thought after her face, but nice 
nonetheless.

"I'm sorry Miss Farina, but I'm afraid that we have to stay here," Said one of the guards, 
who was checking out her breasts long before her face.

"No, you don't. What is he gonna do, jump? You couldn't stop that with a bullet either 
way. I'm not afraid of him touching me, these scientists wouldn't do a thing to lose their 
funding," Amber said, flashing a smile. "If he lays a finger you'll be on him. Besides if 
they caught you watching me sunbathe then GHHHK." Amber made the dead motion by 
slicing her thumbnail across her throat from side to side.

"We'll be to the side, if you need anything," The guard said, motioning for his 
counterpart to do the same.

"I'll yell. Well he'll be the one yelling, a girl has to protect herself," she grinned. Tom 
was relieved to see the two guards disperse. But he doubted that he would have any better 
luck concentrating on his meditation with her there.

"You, you're on my spot," Amber pointed at him, her finger directly in his face.

"The Earth belongs to neither man nor woman, it is the Earth. The ground has been there 
and been claimed by many, and yet never controlled for more than a short transitory 
period in the history of the planet. There is land enough here on this Earth, there is no 
reason to squabble over it," Tom said, recalling a line he had read on spirituality. It was 
more about how the fighting for land, which had always been the primary motivator for 
war, was fruitless, from a theological standpoint. 

"Yeah well, whatever, this isn't Earth," Amber didn't know how to respond to a 
theological debate. She wouldn't have won a logical debate either. But she wasn't here 
for debate.

"Very well," Tom said, giving up. He knew that to insisting to stay on this piece of 
ground was the very same issue he was preaching about. He stood up and moved six feet 
to the side, and repositioning himself in the lotus position. Even with his eyes closed he 
could feel her moving near him, nowhere near where he had been sitting. He felt the air 
breeze towards him as she lay down her blanket beside him. He knew that she was up to 
something, everyone was. His curiosity wanted to know what it was, but his reason was 
telling him that he would find out, regardless of whether he asked or not. 'Play it cool 
boy, real cool.'

"Would you do my back?" Amber asked, lying on her stomach. She undid her top, 
essentially lying down nude along the ground. 'This old trick has worked from the dawn 
of time, no man can resist this, not for long. Well one can, but he doesn't look the gay 
type.'

"No thanks," Tom said, trying to ignore her as best he could.

"Oh come on, I can't reach it myself and I don't want to burn," she said warmly. Most 
men would be putty in her hands after hearing that proposition. Tom, however, wasn't.

"It's not sunny, it's almost dark out, and the building is setting a shadow over us," he 
said, he didn't need to open his eyes to notice the lack of sunshine. The sun, which 
always seemed smaller on Mars, was close to setting. Not that it mattered, after two in the 
afternoon the sun would probably be invisible on the courtyard. 

"It's more about the radiation than the sun," she said, waving the bottle of lotion in front 
of his face.

Tom opened his eyes and looked at the bottle. "Not with suntan lotion. That will only 
protect you against UVA and some UVB rays. You need to get a lotion that will offer you 
complete UVB protection, and there isn't much that will protect you from UVC rays, 
even a thick sweater. You're better off just not getting a tan."

"Oh, okay," she looked at the lotion. She hadn't known that, but she wasn't the type to 
pay attention in any case. It wasn't about the lotion anyway. It was about having the 
lotion being put on her. She didn't worry about long term plans. 'Why is he being so 
difficult about this?' she asked herself. "Well would you put it on anyway? Some 
protection has to be better than nothing."

"Is there any chance that you're going to leave me alone if I don't?" Tom asked 
rhetorically. He took the bottle and poured a generous dollop of lotion on his hand. He 
massaged the lotion onto her body. She was in good shape and it had been some time 
since he had touched a woman in general, let alone one so comely. He began to notice all 
the scars on her body. It looked like she had been through a lot, welts, cuts; all manner of 
bruises had littered her back at some point. She must have had a good doctor, as the scars 
were barely noticeable now. But not good enough, as the marks lingered, telling a tale of 
some kind of abuse, self-inflicted or not.

"That's quite a collection of scars you have," Tom noted, rubbing on one especially long 
one, that appeared to be caused by a whip or some other light cutting instrument. 

"Oh yeah, you know, some nights get a little crazy," Amber said, trying to play it off 
nonchalantly. 'Why does he care so much about this? Christ, can't he just try to fuck me 
so I can be over with this stupid assignment?' "If you want, maybe sometime we could 
have a crazy night."

"No, thanks. My days are crazy enough," Tom sighed, moving his hands down towards 
her back. 

"Me too," she said morosely before realizing it. She smiled when she did, trying to sound 
coy, or sexy, or just not as sad as she had been for a moment.

"You don't seem the type to enjoy the pain," he said, thinking aloud more than anything. 
He rubbed the small of her back, feeling a set of three cuts, so close together they must 
have been from a specialized blade or a well aimed whip.

"Why do you say that?" she asked, trying to smile it off.

"You're too reliant to be submissive. A submissive wouldn't be hitting on me," Tom 
answered, rubbing his hands in the small of her back.

"What makes you think that I'm hitting on you?" Amber tried to ask innocently, 
fluttering her eyes.

"It's not everyday that women have me rub suntan lotion on their back," Tom answered 
honestly.

"Maybe you need a new woman then," Amber thought that was a good line to come back 
with.

"Maybe you need a new man," Tom said, feeling her body twitch as he touched a small 
bruise, still painful.

"Maybe I do," she said, leaning up, showing off her large naked chest, which Tom 
couldn't help but see.

"When you do, maybe you should try getting to know him first," Tom replied, managing 
to look her in the eye. Amber was stunned. A man who didn't want her sexually, but still 
noticed her sexuality. She couldn't miss his eyes flashing down at her breasts. They were 
large and lying down with her waist on the ground and shoulder arched up they appeared 
even larger. She was laying it on so thick she couldn't make it much clearer unless she 
striped down and jumped in his lap. 

"Do you want to get to know me better?" She asked the only question that she could 
think of.

"I'm not going to rule anything out just yet," Tom said, wiping the excess lotion on the 
ground. 

"What is with you, anyway?" Amber asked, turning to look at him. She seemed like a 
bikini model to Tom, the way that she sunbathed on her side.

"What is with you?" Tom asked, looking again at her face. "Why are you hitting on me?" 
He crept back over to his spot and was thankful that she didn't bother him as he tried to 
focus. It was bad enough that now he had something new to focus on, instead of sorting 
through his other thoughts. Amber just lied there dumbstruck, committing herself to 
unraveling the mystery of Tom Pope.

*

"Well gentlemen, it has been a few days, but it seems as though we've all been able to 
share what it is that we have with each other. Now comes the unenviable task of 
attempting to determine what, if anything, it is that we can find out and do to help this 
planet," Tom said, rubbing his eyes.

"Hmm, it seems that while we have all discussed our own findings, none of us have 
brought up the issue staring us right in the face," said Michael Lennon, the finest the 
British Ministry of Science had to offer.

"You don't mean…" Sam Stewart said, leaving the conversation open.

"Don't even think it," Capistrano added in.

"I do mean it, and I will think it and say it. The best chance that this planet has right now, 
as I see it, is reunification between this world and Earth," Mike said with an air of 
certainty, tapping his index finger on the table for emphasis.

"Oh lord," Tom said, holding his head in his hand. 

"If none of you are right willing to say it then I am. Right now this planet is being 
bombarded with radiation so lethal that under normal circumstances you'd need a bloody 
hazmat suit to visit it. The rates with which people are getting ill, with cancer and 
miscarriage are being reported is growing exponentially. Nothing we've even brought up 
has come close to suggesting any kind of possible solution. What we've all heard so far is 
attempts to delay the effects, and to study more. Those are both fine and sensible attempts 
to maintain life on a planet which is becoming more and more hostile to human life. But 
at some point if we don't actually accomplish something in this room, and I mean soon, 
the only chance that many of these people are going to have is for the bloody lot of them 
to leave," Mike had been holding that on his chest for some time. Like Tom he too had 
been forced here against his will, and didn't find the hospitality so inviting.

"And I suppose you feel like going to the Prime Minister and suggesting that to him 
personally?" Diop Mambety said, with a sarcastic smile.

"Am I the only one who thinks it's right?" Mike looked around the room, expecting a no 
dissenting opinion. "That's what I thought."

"Look, Mike, you can't really expect the planets to completely just…come together. 
There's a lot of bad history, and recent too. I know you Brits have a long memory, so try 
to keep it in mind that there are people on Earth that despise Mars, and vice versa," 
Rohan Gupta said, not wanting to be rude to his colleague, whom he respected.

"It's not just that, but my god man, do you really think they aren't recording this?" 
Capistrano asked, waving his hands about the room. He noticed Stewart slink in his chair 
a little. "I mean it's like we're doing private work in our own labs here. Everything we do 
is under a microscope. Every piece of datum is being checked. Do you really think that 
Smith is going to just ring up Earth and decide to reunify?"

"I do," Samuel said, looking at Tom. "I kinda get the impression that maybe, with that 
huge old armada he's got outside, maybe he's at least considering it." He stopped short, 
without saying that the ships were military craft, not civilian. 

"Gentlemen, we're moving onto an area of unproductive discussion. Seeing as our time 
to work on this issue is limited, we have to try to focus ourselves on more important 
areas. As far as I'm concerned, this is matter beyond our control, and as such I believe we 
can do without debating it here and now," Tom spoke up, always hesitant to take a 
leadership role.

"That sounds like a better application of our time," Mambety nodded. 

"Michael is correct in the sense that as of now, we require more information. I have 
drafted a proposal asking for more information from the planetary sensors and the orbital 
satellites, as well as any third party scans that the government may have found and have 
classified for us to use. I have also drafted a proposal requesting a sample of the material 
that is in orbit and forming the rings. Obviously obtaining a sample will be of the utmost 
importance in determining just what it is that the material is doing, and any possible 
solutions that may be applicable," Tom had been wondering why nobody had done that 
yet.

"It won't be easy," Sam said, not wanting to cut down his idol. 

"Why is that?" Tom asked, looking around the room. For someone who was supposed to 
be in charge, he had been poorly informed.

"The government has forbade anyone from obtaining a sample of the material, for 
research or any other means," Capistrano said, fully aware that he was being recorded. 
Tom wasn't the first who had suggested studying it.

"For some reason, nothing seems to land on the planet, or at least that's what the official 
word is. Anything that anyone obtained off world was collected by the government, and 
isn't being made available for public examination," Sam didn't want to get back on the 
subject of why that was.

"Additionally, all information is being held close, for planetary security reasons. The 
intelligence community has been in charge of things, which is their job. While we're 
scientists that work for the government, we're not exactly the government's internal brain 
trust. They want us to help, but their internal people have higher access to this kind of 
thing than we do. Essentially you're going to have to convince the intelligence czar that 
it's something we could use, and that we need to know," Mike Lennon said, now very 
wary of his words.

"Brody," Capistrano said aloud. "Jeffrey Brody is the Secretary of Information, and he's 
the one you'd have to ask.

"I see," Tom said, looking at the clock. He had a lot to consider, but he wanted to work 
on something before dinner. "I suppose we'll finish up early. I'm going to assign some 
work for each of you to begin on, as soon as I can find the pertinent information, or how 
much of that information we will have access to. Until then I suggest you finish whatever 
private studies you have ongoing, and stock up on your sleep gentlemen. We may be 
working sixteen hour days from here on in," Tom said, standing.

"Sounds like you need to stock up on your sleep alright," Mambety said with a grin. 

"Excuse me?" Tom asked, unsure of what was going on. He had half expected it was a 
clever practical joke.

"Oh come now Tom, no need to play dumb. We all know about you and that girl you 
came in with. Not a bad piece either if you ask me," Sam winked, nudging Tom rather 
hard in the ribs. 

"I wouldn't mind boffing her mate," Michael said, adding "No offense."

"You think that Kyle and I are romantically linked." Tom said it more than asked it. He 
didn't have to rack his mind for long to figure out why, in retrospect.

"Oh come on, spending every meal you can with her, I'm sure that you're nothing more 
than a gentleman," Mambety smiled, the whites of his teeth running a sharp contrast with 
the darkness of his skin.

"And then there's the rumors of you two on the ship," Mike added in, feeling rather a 
gossip.

"It's none of my business Tom but really, you need to consider your ethics when 
involving yourself with a subject, volunteer or not." Capistrano said, grinning like the cat 
that caught the mouse.

"Oh brother," Tom sighed, standing up.

"Just tell me this, are you going to have dinner with her again?" Sam grinned from ear to 
ear. 

"Yes, I am, after I work on one experiment," Tom said, watching the room. They all 
seemed to find his romantic life, or lack thereof, particularly amusing.

"Well just don't let her find out about that blond number who was hitting on you," Gupta 
added, to the roaring amusement of the room. 

"Gentlemen, at least I'm rumored to be connected with two women. I can't say the same 
for any of you." Tom simply shook his head and walked out. 'We've got a radiation ring 
forming around the planet, and these guys are worried about my sex life. We are in 
trouble' he thought.

*

Tom grunted as he worked in the laboratory. He had spent most of his time keeping his 
hands clean as a scientist. He had always been considered one of the best and the 
brightest; so most experiments were done by someone else. He had a gift for analysis and 
saw patterns and cut through data like few others. He wasn't the type to be overcome 
with bouts of scientific imagination, but skillful analysis oftentimes appeared intuitive. 
Despite his clean nature, he enjoyed working on something himself. In fact he found 
something very liberating about doing the grunt work. There was a sense of 
accomplishment when you did something like that. Of course he didn't like the protective 
suit that he wore, but it helped to conceal what he was doing.

He was almost finished it, or to be more precise, them. He had learned to make the thing 
while in university. It was more of a lark really, just something that the seniors taught the 
frosh when they were more or less accepted. But he imagined that these two little devices 
would be invaluable to himself and Kyle. All he had to do was finish them and get out 
with them.

He wished that he could wipe his brow, as he thought of her. While he had always found 
her attractive, he was never truly stricken with her. She had always seemed a little rough 
around the edges, she felt more like one of the guys. Not to mention that she was close to 
half his age. Then there was the whole ethical issue of being with the subject of an 
experiment. It wasn't that he was attracted to her, but now in the face of public judgment 
he felt the need to remind himself that he wasn't attracted to her. He and Kyle were 
friends, and the closeness of their friendship relied on the fact that they were the only two 
each other knew and trusted. He did like Kyle, but not romantically. He had always 
preferred more feminine women anyway.

'Then there's that blond,' Tom thought to himself, with a sigh. She was more his type, 
but what was her prerogative? What was her game? Perhaps more importantly, why did 
everyone now think he and Kyle was a couple? Or to ask it better, for what reason was 
the rumor being spread?

Then he stopped for a second and realized his sigh. Was he pining for Amber? She was 
attractive, but the beauty in her face belied the sadness that her eyes told. She was a 
mystery, and that in and of itself was something that his naturally curious mind sought to 
solve. 

'And she's interested in me, that much is sure…but why?' He wondered to himself. He 
didn't understand the attraction. He wasn't anything special, certainly not the best 
looking man. He wasn't in any kind of shape, and while he had more than a good sized 
savings squirreled away back on Earth he was penniless on Mars. 'She's supposedly the 
main consort of the Prime Minister, what the hell would she want with me?'

Tom laughed, he didn't have a lot of pride in his game. He picked up the electronic 
micrometer and adjusted the tuning on one, then the second device. They should work 
perfectly, but he would need to test them out, somehow. He didn't know if he could 
covertly use the equipment in his room, but it might become a necessary task, to explain 
it to Kyle.

"Excuse me, sir, but I'm going to need to see your clearance to be in this area." Came a 
cautious voice from behind.

"What?" Tom froze for a second, before realizing that he was cleared for this area, just 
not to work on what he was making. And that this kid was interrupting a scientific 
experiment in a clean zone. He had been so caught up in his work, and his daydreams 
about redheads and blondes that he hadn't even noticed someone opening up the door.

"Your clearance, I need to see it. There were no one scheduled for the laboratory today," 
he said, resting his hand on his holster.

"You have to be kidding me," Tom decided that acting like an indignant jerk was going 
to be the best way to get through this. He turned around, sliding the twin devices into his 
pocket before walking right next to the guard. He held up his badge, nearly putting it 
right in the person's face. "See this? This means that I have access to these labs at any 
time for any reason from six in the morning until ten at night."

"I'm sorry, Dr. Pope, I wasn't aware that it was you in here. The internal sensor systems 
must be malfunctioning, we didn't pick you up in there. We could detect that various 
items were being moved and that equipment was being used, but you yourself and 
everything in your general area weren't visible. I apologize," he said, taking his hand off 
of his gun and backing down.

"Well it doesn't matter anymore, you destroyed the sterile environment. This experiment 
is useless now!" Tom raised his hands, as if giving up on it. 

"I'm sorry sir, but I hope that you appreciate that I was under standing orders to 
investigate this kind of instance, in case the laboratory had been compromised," he felt 
like a prick now, chasing a cat down an alley.

"Yeah, well, that doesn't make up for wasting my afternoon and a good amount of 
scientific equipment. I'm going to have to mark everything for destruction," Tom said, 
making the notes on the nearby terminal. "Let's go, the cleaning crew will examine and 
take care of everything by the morning."

"Yes sir, sorry again, sir," the guard said, intentionally laying it on thick. He didn't know 
and didn't want to know what it was specifically. It wasn't his job and it didn't do him 
much good to learn something knew, it was just something new that they expected him to 
remember. He didn't like kowtowing to scientists, but just about anyone besides pages 
outranked him, and he knew how to play the game.

"Look, I'm sorry, I don't mean to be such a prick. But that just wasted all the time and 
effort I put into it, and my temper flared. Next time, try knocking," Tom suggested, 
changing the tone of his voice to a calmer one. He was just happy to find out without any 
trouble that the devices had worked. He knew he would check his pocket a hundred times 
on the way back to make sure they were still in his pocket. 

*

Kyle knocked on the door twice in rapid succession, venting a little anger on the hard 
wood. She waited impatiently for Tom to open the door, holding her dinner in her other 
hand.

Tom opened the door, trying to stifle a laugh at Kyle.

"Where'd you get that…outfit?" Tom asked, smirking.

"Don't you dare laugh," she warned, as serious as a heart attack. It was difficult for her to 
convey it with her outfit.

"What…made you wear that?" Tom asked, looking at her from head to toe. She was 
wearing what looked like a fourteen year old girl's pajamas. She was wearing all pink, 
and all fuzzy, like something out of a teenage boy's wet dream. She filled it out well 
though.

"It's the least revealing thing I have, and walking around with my tits sticking out all day 
gets old," she said, sighing. She hated pink, and girly clothes. 

"Why don't you try asking for workout clothes, and just wear those normally? I can't 
imagine Smith wanting to be with an overweight woman," Tom suggested, still smirking. 

"Are you saying that I'm fat?" Kyle's eyes narrowed. She had been eating better lately, 
but she didn't feel as though she had gained weight. 

"No, I just meant that, uh, never mind," Tom sighed. 

"Thanks." Kyle decided to let the comment be, for now. "I'm sure that the clothes I'd 
receive would be too skimpy, if you know what I mean."

"Yeah…come on in," he said, motioning for Kyle to enter the room. 

"Sorry I'm a little messy here," Tom said, picking up a few littered pieces of trash that he 
could fit in his arms.

"It's fine," Kyle said, closing the door. 

"Catch," Tom said, tossing her a small, cubic metallic object.

"What's this?" Kyle inspected it. It was small and fit easily in her hand. The whole thing 
seemed to be made of unpainted grey metal, except for on one side there was a small 
plastic red switch.

"We used to call it a ghost box in college. It generates an electromagnetic field that 
basically creates a bubble," Tom said, flicking his identical ghost box in his hand.

"Ok," Kyle flicked the switch, expecting…something. There should be some kind of 
sensation, or some neat looking science fiction effect. Some blue or green transparent orb 
should envelop her, or at least some sound effect should play. But there was nothing. "So 
what did this do? Where's the bubble?"

"It's around you," Tom said, moving his computer monitor. "The internal sensors are 
able to scan information in three dimensions, that means that-"

"I know what it means Tom. Instead of just the old cameras that they had decades ago, 
they use motion sensors and three dimensional scanners to map rooms in three-dee, 
where computer models show everything moving in real time. That way people can't hide 
in shadows or creep under the old cameras that only worked in two dimensions. The 
government has been playing with these things forever. Drop a bunch in a battlefield and 
you can see everything, know where every sniper is, where every hostage is being held, 
where each rat is hiding in the dark. That about it?" Kyle had done her due diligence, her 
homework for her only real job.

"Yes, but put that down by your foot, and raise your hand, then look at this," Tom 
grinned, pointing at the screen. It showed his room as it was, sans the two of them. Kyle 
shrugged and did as she was told, albeit warily. Her eyes widened as she saw her hand 
seemingly appear out of nowhere, and wave.

"Holy shit Tom, this is real?" Kyle looked at it, like it was some kind of alien device.

"Indeed, and not just video, but audio as well. They can't hear a word that we say," Tom 
grinned, he always enjoyed showing off. 

"This is amazing, how did you invent this in such short time?" she asked, astounded.

"I didn't invent it. It's existed longer than the sensors have. All you have to do is just 
disrupt the flow of the waves, and create a little bubble. The waves just bend around the 
bubble and continue going as if nothing had changed. They don't go around broadcasting 
it of course, but it's a handy little device," Tom said.

"You mean you can make a, a ghost box capable of covert entry into military and 
government installations, and this is public knowledge?" Kyle asked, amazed.

"Yeah, well there are a lot of things that the public isn't aware about. Ever since the 
1980s, people could find the information to build atomic weapons in libraries, even if 
they couldn't find the radioactive material necessary. Once they started sending 
information at the start of the computer age, information to make all kinds of various 
weapons and drugs were proliferated. It's all just a matter of what you know, and what 
you have to work with," Tom did enjoy teaching others. It was an activity he didn't get to 
enjoy very often.

"And you made this? How?" Kyle looked at it, trying to decipher its machinations merely 
from looks.

"I cannibalized a couple of pieces in the lab, essentially small components that I needed 
to tinker a bit. The time constraints were more difficult than anything, and being 
monitored didn't help. Well, it kind of did actually," Tom grinned more, if that were 
possible.

"How?" she raised her eye.

"Oh, some kid walked in on me, not knowing what I was doing. I blamed him for ruining 
an experiment, which meant that everything had to be scrapped. With some luck it means 
that they'll destroy everything without questioning it," Tom knew that was at best wishful 
thinking. 'The universe owes me some good luck.'

"This is fantastic," Kyle said.

"Well there's a couple of things about it I should warn you. First off, it doesn't make you 
invisible, if anyone sees you they'll still chase you. And you aren't silent with it either. 
People can obviously still hear you. Also it has a limited battery life, I can't be sure but 
I'd guess a half an hour on the high side. Any charger will fill it to the brim in next to no 
time. But it can't be charged and work at the same time, so you'd be vulnerable. Also, the 
more we use it, the more suspicious things will look, so don't leave it on all the time. It'll 
look especially bad if you make walls invisible. Try not to be caught doing anything 
when you activate or deactivate it. And of course, hide it," Tom said, putting his in his 
shirt pocket before switching it off. 

"I see," Kyle said, putting it in her tight pink sweatpants and switching hers off. She felt 
there should be some kind of 'bzzzzzz' sound off. 

"Still hungry?" Tom asked, grabbing his own meal, lukewarm by now. He had just 
chosen bacon pizza, quick and easy, with relatively no mess. 

"I guess," Kyle looked at the meal in her hand. She had chosen baked chicken. She was 
depressed when she assumed it too would be delicious, and she wouldn't leave a bite.

"So, I heard something rather amusing," Tom managed to muffle as he masticated the 
meaty pizza.

"What is that?" Kyle put the plastic dish in her lap, and pushed her fork into the meat. It 
was maybe the best chicken she had ever had, even cool, and she couldn't deny it. 

"According to the gossips around here, we're a couple," Tom said, watching the chicken 
fly out of Kyle's mouth.

"Who in their right minds would think something as stupid as that!" Kyle spat out.

"Well you could do worse," Tom said glumly, feeling his pride hacked down. 

"What?" Kyle asked, realizing that she had objected to the notion a little too harshly.

"Nothing, never mind. I just meant I found it amusing, that's all. You might want to be 
aware of it. We do share meals together, and talk together. I guess it's natural for some 
people to jump to conclusions," Tom chewed on some pizza, suddenly he wasn't too 
hungry. "Plus there was the whole thing in the space ship."

"Sorry Tom, I didn't mean it like that. You're more like a father to me than…a 
boyfriend," Kyle tried to apologize. 
 
"Well, let's just let them keep thinking that, for now. Seems a good enough reason for 
you to rebuff Smith's advances, and for us to spend the time together. At least this way 
we won't have to worry about looking suspicious," Tom said, deciding to check his ego. 
It wasn't that he was so concerned he just didn't want their potential romance to sound so 
ludicrous, especially after having spent so much time thinking about it lately. But he 
knew that it was vanity, and that he had to try to subvert his ego.

"So that's why she brought it up," Kyle said, suddenly realizing something. 

"Pardon?" Tom asked.

"One of the girls brought up you and some blond girl, you were rubbing lotion on her 
naked body out by the bathhouse or something. She told me like I should be more 
concerned. I think this is why," Kyle nodded.

"Well, you have to realize that Amber wasn't naked, she had just undone the top of her 
bathing suit, and I didn't want to rub the lotion, I just didn't have much of a choice, plus 
it's not like we," Tom started to defend himself.

"Tom, don't worry about it, there's no need to defend yourself. You're a man and you 
have every right to do what you want. You know to keep a level head, so if you do 
something I know you're not just thinking with little Tom," Kyle smiled.

"Yeah," Tom said, starting to have third thoughts about his meeting with Amber.

"Hell I've thought for a while you needed to get laid," Kyle winked and smiled. Tom just 
looked at her blankly for a moment, then decided to chew on his cold pizza a little bit 
while he tried to sort just what she meant by that. 

"I don't have any meetings in the morning, just one in the early afternoon, if you want to 
have breakfast together," Tom said, trying to break the silence.

"Sounds like a plan, if I don't see you earlier," Kyle looked at him for a moment, before 
returning her attention to her meal.
 
* 

Kyle pulled the blanket up quietly, she thought she heard her roommate Chloe sleeping 
but couldn't be sure. She slid herself out silently, using her trained body to creep out of 
bed. She paused, trying to determine if she was still sleeping or what. Deciding it was in 
her best interest to be sure she tiptoed towards the bathroom. She closed the door behind 
her before turning the light on.

She had been on more training missions than she could remembering, although 
somewhere they had been logged. She had learned a number of things in them. Perhaps 
the most important thing of all of them was that when nature called it would rarely wait 
on hold. She had to go through wilderness survival before, dropped into the middle of a 
forest with only a canteen of water, a GPS transponder, and a communicator. The GPS 
was to know where to pick her up, and the communicator was to be used only for a 
failure. Less than six hours later she had the embarrassing experience of squatting down 
and relieving herself in the forest, with only leaves to use as toilet tissue. She 
remembered asking her training officer why she wasn't warned earlier about it, her 
simple response was "Now you'll never forget."

Kyle wiped herself clean and turned the lights back off. She had been given many kinds 
of clothing; or rather they had been put in the closet for her. Various dresses, gowns, 
lingerie, most of it was useless for what she was going to do. Her choice in shoes were 
particularly sparse, she had a dozen high heeled shoes of differing heights and colors to 
go along with her dresses and gowns, some garish shoes that might have passed in normal 
life, and even a pair of long boots. There were some girls who would have envied the 
collection, but none of them would provide her with what she needed, stealth. She would 
have given all of them up for her old pair of sweaty running shoes. She would have to 
make do in her socks, although she doubled them up for some added protection.

She opened the door to the living room, there was a dim light on in the corner, but there 
was no other source of illumination. She activated the ghost box before creeping to the 
door, pushing it with the lightest amount of pressure possible to keep her motions silent. 
The door opened an inch quietly, Kyle looked outside. There was a new guard waiting 
out there, he was facing the other direction. She had hoped for the other guard, she had 
the opportunity to size him up beforehand. It wasn't great intelligence, however it was all 
she had. 'He must have gone home' she thought to herself, examining the new man. He 
was looking at a computer screen, but his head seemed to bob up and down slightly, as if 
he weren't fully awake. He was smaller in size, and only had a sidearm that was 
holstered, along with a nightstick.

Kyle looked back into the room she was in, there was some garment of clothing nearby. 
She moved her foot over, dragging it along and propping it in the middle of the doorway 
to prop it open and hush the noise of the door closing. She thanked the maintenance staff 
that had kept the door well oiled as she slinked through the doorway, opened narrowly 
enough for her body. The desk had an old-fashioned style upturning entrance, with an 
empty underside. She ducked down low to avert his gaze, he hadn't so much as turned his 
head or made a peep in her direction. It didn't take her too long to creep under the 
doorway, less than a yard behind the man. She was so close she could hear his slow, 
steady, heavy breaths. 

With silent precision she pulled her body up, preparing herself for what she was to do. 
She straightened her right arm before wrapping it around his neck. Her other hand 
covered his mouth, silencing any attempts at alarming anyone else. The move was 
Shime-Waza, an ancient Judo stranglehold from over a thousand years ago. This specific 
hold was a Hadaka Jime, or naked hold, designed to subdue an opponent, effectively 
rendering them unconscious. Most people mistake this for a chokehold, which constricts 
the airflow to the lungs, due to the location of the hold. While this particular hold does 
result in partial pressure upon the trachea, it isn't the loss of airflow that causes the 
opponent to lose consciousness, although the partial asphyxia does assist in the takedown. 
Her arm wrapped around his neck compressed the carotid artery, causing hypoxia, or a 
lack of oxygen to the brain caused by a deficiency of blood. It didn't take very long, only 
around ten seconds, and he was out like a light. She let his limp body fall backwards 
against his chair.

She grinned proudly at her work. She hadn't practiced that move in ages, and this was 
only the third time she had ever finished the execution, oftentimes her opponent would 
tap out. She thought for a second, realizing that the guard didn't give much in the way of 
a struggle. She looked down at the computer, looking at various angles. She leaned down, 
looking at the computer controls, when the reek of cheap alcohol nasally assaulted her. 
She looked down at his cup of coffee, it was laced with some foul booze, with the 
container not far away.

Her fingers flew by the keyboard, checking all of the rooms, generated in three 
dimensions. She didn't have much of a plan, she wanted to do some reconnaissance. She 
doubted she would get the chance to get on the roof and get a lay of the land. She knew it 
would be easy to check online, but she couldn't use a computer safely. 'Maybe I'll 
borrow Blue's computer' she thought to herself. 

'Lazy' she thought to herself, looking at the computer commands. She had access to all 
of the internal sensors from this location. The group was so smug in their perceived 
impunity that they didn't believe someone could get so far in. Although Kyle did not 
believe this was the only station that had access, she had to work with what she had at the 
moment. She limited the scope of the sensors, and with the ghost box effectively covering 
her tracks she planned her moves. She looked at the guard, his deep snoring was 
indicative of alcohol induced slumber, as opposed to the light rest resulting from a 
stranglehold. In a more piteous moment she might have leaned him forward to alleviate 
the tension from his neck. In this moment, she opened the plastic bottle all the way, 
spilling most of the contents along him and the floor and computer, making the reek of 
alcohol unmistakable.

*

Amber sighed to herself as she lay in the bath. She had a normal night. Of course, normal 
for her was far from normal for anyone else.

Josiah Smith had come into his chambers, with the blue haired Jen in hand, already 
sporting a hard on. Amber had hoped that Jen would occupy him for the night, in her 
youth and vanity she actually appreciated his affection, and was actively vying for it from 
Amber. Amber had been intentionally sabotaging herself, hoping that Smith would give 
up upon her, but there was no such luck. She was a trophy to him.

They had barely gotten naked when his premature ejaculation had struck once more, he 
had filled her with his seed just moments after penetrating Jen. Jen, for her part, faked an 
orgasm on the spot, but Smith had known better. He was deflated by his personal failure 
by failing to satisfy her, or more likely himself, sexually.

Then, at Jennifer's insistence, Amber was forced to eat her out. Amber was thoroughly 
disgusted at the proposition, but obeyed Smith, not wanting something worse. So, she 
was forced to eat all of his ejaculate out of Jen's teenage pussy, not something she 
enjoyed. Part of the way through, Smith decided he was ready to go again, and wanted 
his turn at Amber. Since she was already bust bent over, he decided to violate her anally 
without warning, deciding that surprise anal sex might be fun. 

Yet again, he prematurely ejaculated, this time into Amber's ass. She grinned to herself, 
remembering her brilliant idea. 'Josie baby, if I've got to eat your spunk from her cunny, 
she should eat it outta my ass!' Smith agreed wholeheartedly, and Amber had a shit-
eating grin as Jen was forced to grin as she ate…

She lowered her body as she lit up the joint, the water covering her until right under her 
neck as she inhaled strong, feeling the smoke fill her lungs. It didn't affect her much 
anymore, she needed to smoke a large joint just to feel much of anything, but it was 
something, and it helped her get to bed. She was just thankful that Adrian kept a hot tub 
on for her. 

She wondered with all of her mind just what was with Tom, and why he had rebuffed her 
advances. He was meditating, and she had looked into it. He didn't seem like a Buddhist 
to her, but she hadn't investigated that much. At first she thought she'd try it as a 
conversation starter. But if he was really that spiritual, could that be the reason that he 
wasn't interested in her?

'But he noticed my tits' she thought to herself, taking another long drag. Tom had looked 
at her breasts, so he wasn't that pious. Maybe he was man enough to not reach out like a 
mindless zombie after brains, but he had noticed. And while she was no virgin, she was 
certainly still woman enough for many a man. 'But not him.'

She heard the sound of something nearby. She was worried someone had followed her 
here; she had just come in a kimono, naked underneath. She knew she could scream loud 
enough to find some guard but she didn't like the idea of being a damsel in distress. She 
exited the tub quietly, wrapping the robe around her wet body. She looked around for 
something, her mind was searching for a wrench or a baseball bat or some other typical 
melee weapon, when she heard that same something. She looked down, and saw a large 
net used to skim gunk out of water. It would have to do. She looked over to where the 
noise had come from. Whoever it was wasn't going near her at all. It was going away 
from her. 

Amber walked over to a column, hiding behind it to cover her body as she peered into the 
field, seeing a vague dark outline of someone running towards the end of the grass before 
the crevasse. The body moved quickly, very quickly, and in the grass from a distance the 
noise was lessened. She could see slightly red hair outlined vaguely, the light was sparse 
in the field, there weren't any lights, at least not pointing out into the courtyard. 

She wondered who it was, recalling stories she had heard before. A couple of girls had 
decided that life wasn't worth it, or so she had been told, and had taken the plunge. She 
didn't believe the tale, she had assumed that they had been either malcontents or had 
slighted Smith in some other fashion, enough to warrant their deaths. Perhaps they had 
seen something they should not have, perhaps they knew something that couldn't be 
forgotten, perhaps they were with child or some other reason that made them undesirable, 
she did not know. 

People died everyday for reasons that she didn't have to understand. To her, the deaths of 
women she hardly knew weren't especially important. It wasn't much different to her if 
someone died or did not, if she didn't know them, it was as though they didn't exist. 
'People die all the time' she thought to herself, every three seconds someone dies, she 
heard that once, from a senator trying to bar smoking.

She looked over, feeling a rare pang of guilt. 'If she dies, that would mean they'll lock 
this place down again like they did last time…I couldn't score anything for weeks, I had 
to have them smuggle it in, second rate shit, and they would skim…' she thought to 
herself, suddenly hearing the sounds of loud boots clomping in unison. 

'Oh, they're going to stop her for me?' she thought, dropping the pool skimmer where it 
was. 'This should be fun to watch,' she stepped from her hiding spot, and followed 
behind the body, in front of the two guards, keeping a safe distance.

*

Kyle grinned, she had made her way out of the seraglio all right. Most of the guards were 
dutiful, but too rigid. Some walked around, but most were stationary, some leaning 
against walls, others smoking cigarettes to keep their minds active, she had seen one 
drinking a coffee along with her cigarette. None of them bothered going into rooms, and 
so long as they passed by without noticing, it wasn't much of a job. But it was still nerve 
racking. 

She steadied her breath, it was much easier with her nanobots. But her heart was still 
racing, as she closed her eyes and listened for footsteps. The rhythm was so monotonous 
she could set her watch by it. Click, clack, click, clack, every step arose her tension. She 
knew the chances were slim, but if he were to enter, if he were to decide to take a smoke 
break in this room…who knew what the result would be?

Thankfully, he did not, and continued on his way. Kyle pressed her body against the wall, 
peering out towards the hallway. Nobody else was coming, another room, twenty feet this 
time, just outside the stairs. It was a long walk to do covertly, but still something that she 
was capable of. She took her makeup mirror, and leaned it out of the doorway, checking 
her blind spot. There were only the steps of the soldier as he turned the corner.

She stuck her head out, double checking everything. She checked especially for a room in 
between the two, the lord knows that she couldn't let this operation be blown by some 
stupid secretary working a late night. She booked it, running as fast as she could get in 
twenty feet. She managed to get herself into the next room without difficulty, catching 
her breath. It wasn't the physical exertion, it was the stress running through her body. She 
heard the footsteps and tiptoed into the corner of the windowless room. She listened 
intently, learning what she could. The man was overweight, his steps weren't as loud and 
rhythmic. Instead they were slower and had a soft thud. She wondered silently if he was 
tired, or drunk. She knew that it wasn't caffeine, which would make for loud tapping, and 
a brisk measured pace. She kneeled down as she realized that he was heading towards the 
doorway. 

She tiptoed to the desk, crouching behind it. She flicked the pocket mirror and poked it 
out, the man was coming in. Had she made a sound? Had she somehow tipped him off? 
Was the ghost box still working? Or was it all some terrible coincidence?

She didn't have time to ask questions. Her natural fight or flight reflexes kicked in, and 
she could feel that ferocity, the heated passion in her blood that wanted her to wring his 
neck. She was not the type to revel in bloodlust, but in these circumstances there was no 
middle ground. There were simply enemies and allies. She had all too many of the 
former, and one of the later.

She crept quietly around the desk, watching him as he stepped towards the other side. She 
crouched down in front of the desk, waiting. He groaned as he sat down, and she rolled 
her eyes. Was it all so simple as a weary soldier, finding a comfortable chair? Kyle could 
barely contain herself, the adrenaline was wreaking havoc with her nerves, and 
controlling her breathing was becoming more and more difficult. She knelt there, for 
what felt like eternity. The soldier was either very tired, or very lazy, but neither 
mattered. She simply had to wait it out. 

The noise of his boots dropping to the ground almost made her jump. She closed her eyes 
tightly to ease herself. Her knees never buckled as she heard the chair lean back, and he 
was back up on his feet. She silently crept back behind the side of the desk, as he moved 
across the opposite side. She watched his large figure walk out towards the door. 

'He's finally fucking gone!' Kyle thought, with a sigh. Her eyes grew as large as dinner 
plates as she realized her mistake. 

Before he had the time to see her she quickly pounced towards him. She sidestepped the 
barrel of his gun, punching him straight into the kidney with a left jab, and grabbing the 
barrel of the gun with her right. With an elbow to the side of his head, she was able to 
wrestle the gun from his grasp.

While Kyle had the benefits of surprise, the man had physical strength, size, and armor to 
his advantage. He stomped on her foot, hard, trying to regain his own balance. Kyle lost 
control of the gun with the surprise. 

Kyle didn't see the man's hulking arm hit her directly in the chest, nailing her in her solar 
plexus. Kyle backed up against the wall, it wasn't the pain but she had the wind knocked 
out of her. 

The man walked over to Kyle, grinning as wicked thoughts went through his mind.
'What else is a whore good for?' The man grinned lecherously at her, thinking that she 
was just one of Josiah's women. 

She was not. With a quick roundhouse kick to his shins she fell him with a loud thud. He 
snarled, quickly up on his knees he blocked another kick, this time sending Kyle flying 
from the force of her own momentum.

Kyle had hit something, hard, and was bleeding from under the nose. But she didn't give 
half a care, she hadn't fought like this in forever.

The man grabbed his communicator with his free hand, pushing the button to signal for 
backup.

Kyle kicked the comm as hard as she could, unknowing that the call had already been 
made. This left her center open to another hard strike from her opponent, the force of 
which sent her flying down onto the ground again. Kyle was thankful for the nanobots 
right now, which were keeping her up and fixing her as soon as she was being broken.

But her instincts were telling her now was the time to fly, not fight. So she ran, to the 
door, cringing as she heard yelling and loud footsteps behind her. 'Don't shoot, don't 
shoot, don't shoot' she thought to herself as she evaded her pursuers. She ran down the 
hall, past the corner, knocking any and everything over that she could to slow them down. 
She was running at almost full speed, panting furiously.

She knew her exit path well. She had memorized it by heart a dozen times, with alternate 
routes in case something like this happened. The stairway down to the center of first floor 
was going to be blocked, she knew that much. So instead she ran down the stairs, towards 
the bathhouse. There was more open space down at the bagnio, and more places to get 
lost. She had to change what her objective was, but more importantly, she had to get free. 
Run now, think later.

If she could stop to think, she might reconsider what she was doing. If she could stop to 
think, she might have the chance to realize that she could stop, act like a ditz, and maybe 
weasel her way out of it. If she could stop to think, she'd realize that there was nothing 
any of these men could do to her short of shooting her in the skull to cause any permanent 
damage, thanks to her nanobots. If she would stop to think, she would realize that there 
was nothing for her to run to. 

But she didn't stop to think, not at all. She sped through the doorway near the bathhouse 
in no time, and made it outside without a sound. Kyle galloped, her feet flying along the 
ground with the grace of a gazelle. She knew not where to run, but knew that darkness 
and distance were her two closest allies. She was running purely on instinct. She tapped 
her ghost box, looking at a line on it. Just a sliver of power remained, and she didn't 
know how long it would last. She knew that there was a cliff nearby, the outline was 
obvious in the pale moonlight, eerily painted by the forming ring in the heavens. 

She slowed herself, looking back, expecting some kind of force following her. She knew 
that barefooted, she couldn't have outrun them in a fair fight, but they were heavily 
armed, and heavily dragged down, and she was light and nimble. The nanobots coursing 
through her veins didn't hurt either. She felt no fatigue, and was not out of breath, just 
breathing quicker and harder to provide the necessary oxygen.

She peered over the cliff, wishing there were some kind of steep that she could rest upon, 
or some kind of cave to hide in. there was none, and dressed as she was, she was in no 
shape for rock climbing, especially with no lifeline, and no light.

She heard noise behind her and snapped her head back. She was surprised to say the least, 
with what she found. She had expected some muscle man, with a fully automatic 
multibarrel rifle, ready to blow her head off.

Instead she found a pretty blond woman, hair soaked and clinging close to her body. She 
was clothed in only a kimono, tied loosely around her waist.

"So are you gonna do it?" The blond woman asked. 

"Do what?" Kyle narrowed her eyes.

"Jump," Amber said, walking to the edge of the cliff. She had only been so close once, 
she didn't like to chance fate. "Long way down."

"I didn't come here to jump," Kyle said defiantly.

"Then why did you come?" Amber raised an eyebrow.

"I wanted to get out," Kyle sighed, looking back at the field of grass. She couldn't see the 
faces, but she knew that there was movement.

"Not a real choice, unless you got a jetpack or a heli waiting," Amber said, shaking her 
head.

"It wasn't my first plan," Kyle said coldly, looking out in the distance.

"You…oh wait, you're Kyle," Amber said, sizing her up. She was a cute thing, and could 
go far on her looks. Nice red locks, pretty face, good chest, not as nice of a backside, and 
she had a bad attitude, or at least didn't know how to fake a good one, but still, all in all 
decent competition. 

"Yes, how did you know that?" Kyle asked absentmindedly, as she watched the people 
moving towards their position.

"I'm Amber," she said, as if it were supposed to matter. Kyle registered the name but not 
the significance behind it.

"What do you think they're gonna do?" Kyle asked, nodding in their direction.

"So this was an escape attempt, well let's try this," Amber said, looking back at the 
group. They were close, and closing. Amber wound up with all her might, and smacked 
Kyle, hard, in the face, the tail end of her slap grasping onto he flimsy material of her 
clothing, and ripping the front of her shirt and bra, exposing part of one of her breast.

"You fucking cunt!" Kyle snarled, blinded as a bright light shone in her eyes. She wanted 
to lunge after this girl, but couldn't see her nose with the giant blind spot in her face.

"Put your hands in the air and prepare to be taken into custody," shouted a loud 
masculine voice. Kyle had expected him to say hoo-ah. 

"Oh boys, put away your guns," Amber said, half heartedly lifting her hands over her 
head. "This is just all a big misunderstanding."

"Miss Farina? I'm sorry, but this woman was found past curfew fleeing after having 
assaulted one of the soldiers," said the voice, keeping his light and gun trained on Kyle.

"Oh but handsome, this is just a misunderstanding. You see this girl here didn't know it 
was light's out. I guess Old Angelica is loosing it upstairs, well there's no surprise there, 
is it? And I'm sure whoever showed her around spent more time staring at her tits than 
explaining the rules," Amber said, placing her hand on the gun and lowering it towards 
the ground.

"While there have been infractions in the past about ladies being out after curfew, that 
does not excuse her assaulting one of our soldiers!" he shouted.

"Oh, Captain," Amber said.

"It's Lieutenant, Lieutenant Harris," he responded.

"It could be Captain," Amber winked. "Seriously, who's been assaulted here?" Amber 
asked, walking over to Kyle, still as confused as ever. 

"Miss Farina, what are you talking about?" he asked.

"I'm talking about this!" Amber said, ripping Kyle's hand, covering her exposed breast. 
"Look at this face." She said, turning Kyle's still red and stinging face.

"Miss, if you are suggesting…" Harris said hesitantly.

"I'm not suggesting anything, this is a fact! One of your over aggressive soldiers tried to 
rough up this poor little girl! She's one of the Prime Minister's consorts! What else could 
have happened, she smacked herself and ripped off her own top?" Amber asked 
ludicrously.

"I…ma'am, are you ok?" he asked, nodding towards Kyle.
 
"I, I," Kyle tried to sound like a victim. She had no idea why Amber was helping, but she 
was. Ludicrous plans like this worked sometimes. 

"Of course she's not alright, look at the poor girl, she was about to bite the big one by 
taking a nose dive off the cliff! If I hadn't been here to protect her, she would already be 
a pancake on the bottom!" Amber shouted.

"I'm sorry we scared you girl, we didn't know what happened," he said slowly, lowering 
his gun.

"Oh of course she ran, what did you expect? You all look like a gang of bangers coming 
after her!" Amber laid it on real thick.

"Please, miss, we have to come to some understanding about the facts. Let's just go back 
and take your statements, and we can sort everything through," Harris said, stepping back 
slightly. He hadn't been in command situation before, but he knew this would be his last 
if he fucked this up royally. He would probably wind up scrubbing toilets for the rest of 
his military career.

"Oh no Lieutenant Harris, we're not going to take statements. I'm running right to 
Josiah's room right now to tell him what has happened. You better kiss your ass goodbye, 
because Smith isn't the kind to take this thing nicely, especially when he's been 
sleeping!" Amber bluffed, knowing that most men out there didn't know how to deal 
with a crazy bitch. Or a crazy boss. 

"Please, miss, there is an established protocol for these kinds of issues," Harris said, his 
voice wavering.

"Oh and what are we supposed to do, go back to the barracks for some more drilling?" 
Amber said angrily, watching him waffle.

"No, uh, look miss, maybe there's a way we can take care of things, without having to 
involve the Prime Minister," Harris said, his mind forming an idea. An idea, long crafted 
in Amber's brain, that he finally stumbled upon.

"Oh, what kind of thing can we take care of?" Amber asked suspiciously.

"Listen miss, if one of my fellow soldiers has been inappropriately treating women, let's 
just say that we have an internal system for taking care of that, that doesn't show up on 
anything other than a medical report, and a transfer. We can take care of him, and by the 
morning he won't even be in the city. All we need is for you to two to keep this under the 
rug. After all, the Prime Minister has a lot to worry about, right?" Harris said, trying to 
bargain. He didn't like Donald anyway, and he seemed like date rapist material.

"And why should we believe you?" Amber narrowed her eyes.

"Well, after all you have this to hold over my head. Once we escort you ladies to your 
rooms, then there's no need for us to file any report. We can all just let this go away, I'll 
bring you the personnel transfer myself," Harris negotiated.

"I, I just want it all to be over with," Kyle said weakly, one her hand covering her breast, 
the other covering her face, to hide the grin.

"Fine Lieutenant Harris. Let's see to it that you don't wind up being Private Harris. Or 
civilian Harris," Amber glared. She was bluffing more than a nun at a strip poker match, 
but if he was going to buy it…

"Yes ma'am, shall we escort you back to your quarters?" he asked, trying to sound polite.

"No, we know the way. And if I see a single guard on our way there, I'm not going to be 
pleased," Amber reiterated. She grabbed Kyle by her hand and guided her back towards 
their gilded cage.

"Why did you help me?" Kyle waited until they were out of earshot to ask, looking back.

"I don't know. I've become a good Samaritan all of a sudden," Amber neglected to 
mention that her nice act including trying to seduce Tom, who she believed to be Kyle's 
boyfriend. "Just don't be stupid and try any of that shit again."

"Seems like you'd need a starship to get out of this place," Kyle said dejectedly. 




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