****** Electric Blue by Sweet T ******
===============================================================================

Electric Blue


The sun was beginning to set, and for Valerie Walker, it couldn't be soon
enough. She was not a normally superstitious woman, but Val just couldn't shake
the feeling that this, her thirteenth insertion into the Blaine corporate
headquarters in New York City, would somehow end in disaster.

"Relax, Walker," she whispered to herself. "It's just like any other mission."
The 15-power scope of her PBC rifle framed a roof guard on the tallest building
in the world, 200 meters away.

"Relax, Val," Mack's voice came over her earpiece. In her lab 25 klicks away,
Dr. Mariko Mishuri rolled her wheelchair to get a look at her partner's vitals
monitor. Val's heart rate, blood pressure and respiration were elevated. They
were well within safe, normal range, but they still betrayed the other woman's
nervousness.

" I hear you." But the readout stayed the same. Val ran a hand through her
short red hair, trying-she told herself- to keep it straight in the blowing
wind. She kept her sight centered on the guard's head, checking for the
twentieth time that her rifle was on its lowest setting, where a head shot
would incapacitate the target without killing it.

Not that Val had never taken a life in more than fifteen years of defending her
country. She had, by her own count, killed 147 in ground combat, and had 17
confirmed kills as an aviator. Val was not a coward, and did not shy from
killing if it were necessary, but she was just as happy to pull off such a
clandestine operation without a body count.

"It's almost dark enough." Half of that was for herself, and the other half for
her remote partner.

"Almost," Mack's reply came.

The roof guard was looking in the wrong direction when the sun finally set.
"Now!" Mack ordered firmly.

She had barely finished the one word when Val set her rifle aside and pulled
off her black leather trench coat. For a moment she was naked and defenseless
on the rooftop, then she sub vocalized a command to the complex, compact
computer surgically implanted at the base of her spine.

An electric blue glow began at the small silver disc, five centimeters wide,
visible in the small of her back, spreading along a delicate network of
superconducting wires strategically inserted beneath her skin all over her
body.

And it was over in a few seconds, Valerie Walker's petite figure was wrapped
head to toe in sleek, skin-tight metal armor. Painted a dull grey so as not to
reflect light in any given environment, the metal was strong enough to deflect
bullets up to 20 millimeters, and hard enough to withstand focused laser and
particle-beam fire. It was light enough not to weigh the user down, and each
individual plate was strategically positioned so as not to impede her movement.
"Emission successful," Val reported. Mack would be pleased that her ingenious
invention had once again worked. Because metal is ever an efficient conductor
of electricity, Dr. Mishuri had years ago devised a way to convert and store
metallic alloys as electrical information. Because its exact shape and size was
preprogrammed, any dents or scratches would vanish in transition from
information storage.

"Acknowledged. Proceed." So Mack was nervous too, Val told herself. It was more
understandable for her, of course. Val was taking the FLAP for its first real
test, and though it showed no problems in the lab, they both knew the real
world was very different, and less forgiving.

Val lifted her rifle, checking the setting and safety one again. "Cutting
transmission now."

"Acknowledged," Mack repeated. In her lab, Val's vitals monitor went blank,
followed by the visual relay, and with a terse "So long," the radio went
silent.

"Good luck, Valerie," Mariko said to the blank screens. "Don't come back dead."

Centering her crosshairs on the roof guard, Val squeezed the trigger. A purple
packet of energy, about the size of a marble, streaked through the air to touch
the target in the head. His body spasmed, then went limp. Val held her breath
for several seconds after that, making sure the guard did not fire his weapon
in reflex. If he did, then all the security in the Blaine headquarters would
know something was going on..And William Foster Blaine would soon find out that
he was being observed...

But no report echoed across the streets, and the roof of the 1500-meter
skyscraper was now totally unguarded. Val stood up, folded the stock of her
rifle and fastened into a specially designed holster on her back.

"Now to see if this crazy thing works in the real world." Talking to herself,
she knew, was pointless, but it helped ease the tension and feeling of
isolation. She backed up some fifty meters across the roof, and muttered
another command.

Two broad, laminar-flow wings that had been hanging down her back snapped up
into place slightly above the horizontal, and a pair of teacup-shaped parabolic
mirrors that were the heart of the Focused Laser Aerial Parabolas rotated to
point straight down. A concept more than a century old that Mariko had
rediscovered less than a year ago, the mirrors were carefully designed
parabolas that would focus laser energy onto a single point. All that intensity
would superheat the air, causing it to expand and push against the mirrors
themselves. Newton's third law guaranteed that whatever was attached to the
mirrors would be accelerated in whatever direction the mirrors pointed.

The design had worked well in the lab, and the President and the very few
congressmen and women who knew about the project insisted that the FLAP be put
into use immediately. But Val and Mack both knew that a laboratory environment
and the Real World were two very different concepts altogether.

Val took a deep breath and dropped into a sprinter's crouch, trying
unsuccessfully to calm her nerves. If the FLAP didn't work, it would take less
than a minute to fall to her death in the streets of New York.

"Que sera, sera." If she was going to die in the next 60 seconds, then
postponing it would not change that. Val exploded into a flat sprint, dashing
across the concrete and leapt off the edge, thinking as loudly as she could the
mental command to activate the FLAP at full power. For a very long half-second,
nothing seemed to happen. Then with a familiar hiss of expanding air that was
actually quieter than the whirring of the parabolic mirrors as they spun for
stability, the thrusters (neither Val nor Mariko could think of a better name
for them) fired.

Val let the momentum from her jump add to her velocity, then leveled off to fly
almost silently through the twilight, and touched down gently on the roof. It
was the work of a few seconds to break through the electronic lock on the door,
and Val stealthily made her way inside.

After thirty minutes of creeping silently along the hallways deep into the
building- the otherwise metal on the soles of her feet were covered in thin
rubber- Val reached the main computer room. It was another thirty anxious
minutes to defeat the electronic keypad-the code was changed daily- and she
slipped inside.

Val wanted to remove the armor covering her head. One major disadvantage of
Mariko's brainchild was that metal reflects body heat quite easily, so Val was
almost sweltering inside. But she couldn't take the risk of shedding hair or
skin inside or that her face would be seen, so she had to keep herself covered.

She took two small connectors, fitting one end into the mainframe terminal, the
other into the storage system at near her lumbar vertebrae. A message flashed
across her viewslit indicating that it had begun downloading, and what
percentage of the files had been downloaded, Now came another obstacle. With
the entire Blaine corporate files downloaded into the storage files designed
contain her armor, there would not be enough space available to revert her
armor into storage.

The files were 72 percent completed when Val heard footsteps outside the
computer room. It was another of the guards making his rounds of the building.
Quickly Val slipped behind the terminal, making it just as the guard punched a
code into the door and opened it.

Val held her breath. The white spot of his flashlight scanned across the walls,
shifting slightly here and there. The shadows shifted eerily, they all seemed
to move in any direction but one that would help conceal her. The terminal's
bulk was enough to block her from the guard's view, but if he saw the
connectors trailing behind, he would take a closer look. As slowly and as
silently as she could, Val reached up over her shoulder, clutching the pistol
grip of her rifle. Just a little tug, and the small clamps fastening it to her
back would release. If she was quick enough, she should be able to shoot him
before he even realized he was not alone. Val had her rifle ready and was about
to jump from her concealment when the white glow of his flashlight vanished,
and he left the room, the door swishing shut behind him.

Val managed not to sag in relief. Her display showed the download was a
merciful 100 percent complete, and she disconnected herself from the main
computer. Fighting the urge to hurry, she retraced her steps back up to the
roof.

The guard she had shot was still out cold. She felt for a pulse. He was still
very much alive and unharmed, albeit he would likely wake up with a massive
headache. Val leapt off the roof, and again the FLAP worked exactly as
designed. She landed on the roof she had vacated nearly two hours before,
bundled up her trench in her arms and switched on her transmitter.

" Mission complete," she reported.

"Acknowledged, Val." The relief in Mack's voice was unmistakable. "Come on
home."

Val gave a roger, shut off her radio and lifted off into the air.

Twenty minutes later she let herself into the lab and living quarters set
underneath what had once been known as the Chrysler Building. As she stepped
inside, Mack immediately told her to sit down and plug herself in, so she could
immediately begin decrypting the files. Val was only too happy to oblige, the
sooner she dumped the file, the sooner she could get out of her armor. It took
five blessedly short minutes.

"All right, I can let the computer start decoding everything," Mack said as
soon as the transfer was finished. "Get on the table and get out of all that."

Val sat herself on the edge of the long table and ordered her armor back into
storage. Her skin was flushed underneath, her short hair matted with
perspiration. As she stretched out naked on her stomach, Mack immediately went
to get her friend some water. It didn't take a doctor to see that Val was
dangerously close to dehydration.

While Valerie relaxed, Mack took a small file reader and hooked it up to the
storage system in Val's lower back. She examined each file one by one,
searching for corrupted data while Val let herself cool down.

It was almost funny, Mariko thought as she scanned the files. At first, Val had
felt awkward about lying there naked next to her. Even though her petite figure
was as lean and fit as fifteen years of constant training could make it, and
Valerie was not an unattractive woman. Not for the first time, Mariko Mishuri
felt a twinge of envy at what Val had been able to accomplish. One hand
unconsciously touched the stumps of her legs that had to come off after the
auto accident when she was only sixteen. It was a point of private shame that
she never discussed. Mariko's lineage traced all the way back to Samurai in the
1500s, and nearly all of her ancestors and family had been soldiers, which she
had also hoped to become.

But at least she had been able to design a revolutionary, if experimental, form
of equipment for the modern soldier. The project's political backers had named
it Samurai,which did not appeal to her in light of its current, confidential
uses. But more importantly, Valerie Walker, formerly of the USMC and
(officially) the US Secret Service, had become like a sister- an older, tougher
sister, during nearly a year of training, development and operation.

"Okay, it's done." She spoke more softly than she had hoped. And at that, Val
knew that something was bothering her.

"Is everything all right?"

"Oh, yes." Mariko pretended to misunderstand the question. "All the files are
clean, nothing corrupted or damaged." Mariko was also a terrible actress.

Val pretended not to notice. She excused herself and went to use the shower.
Mack watched her walk away, admiring her confident- although somewhat tired-
tread and the sensual lines of her smooth back and firm buttocks. She shook
herself from looking. Mack had been finding herself admiring her partner's body
more and more for no apparent reason.

"Cut it out, Mariko," she orally slapped herself and wheeled back to the main
computer to view the progress on the Blaine files.

Forty-eight hours later, Dr. Mariko Mishuri and Valerie Walker sat in the Oval
Office while the President, and her National Security Advisor examined the
information.

"You did well," the President said as she leaned back from the screen and
rubbed at her eyes. "It would be enough to get Blaine convicted and his entire
corporation shut down."

" 'Would' " Mariko echoed.

The President shook her head. "The means we got all this info is not exactly
legal, as we all know. Despite all it proves it would be thrown out of court
before you could say 'Clarence Thomas.'" She turned to her NSA. "Jeff, what do
you think of his plans?"

"With all he's got going on under the table?" He tapped the computer screen.
"He's going to make his move pretty soon. Two, three months at most."

The President nodded. "Call up CIA and FBI and the SecDef," she said. "We'll
discuss this at nine this evening. Dr. Mishuri, how soon can you get Samurai
ready for mass production?"

"Madame President," Mariko said. "It's not ready yet. I still don't know how
long term use will affect the FLAP, and any user will start to overheat after
half an hour..."

"I know," the President said. "But we may not have any choice in the matter. So
tell me, how long?"

Mariko shook her head. "Two weeks to get the equipment set up, about twelve
hours to adapt the unit to each individual user, maybe a month to train
them...."

"All right," the NSA said. "We can give you a month to iron out the bugs, then
we'll probably have to put Samurai into production."

"I agree," the President said. "Jeff, go ahead and start making calls."

He excused himself and left the office.

"Good work, both of you." The President leaned back in her chair. Then she
changed the subject. "Mack, you know my brother is chief of surgery at Bethesda
Naval hospital. He just told me, well, a week ago, that they've found a
breakthrough in regrowing multiple organs." She leaned forward. " I didn't
mention this before, but they've finished all the studies, and they're pretty
sure that with enough physical therapy, and maybe a little luck, one could
regain most of the use of a lost limb. They only need someone willing to try
it. I want you to be that somebody."

For a long time, Mack was silent. Then she said "I'll think about it" in a
guarded voice that meant she was thinking very, very hard.

"All right." The President wrote something down. "When you make your decision,
call this number. My brother will be expecting you."

Valerie drove herself and her partner out of Washington. They rode in silence.
Mack was almost catatonic. Val had seen it before: Mack's entire body seemed to
shut down while her mind went into overdrive.

As they reached their hotel room, she was about to order Mack to come clean
with her thoughts when Mack said, "I used to be a dancer before the accident."

"I didn't know that," was all Val could say.

"I was pretty good at it too. Then when I turned fourteen, I started studying
for the academy, getting into shape and all that. I was out to submit my
application when..."

Val had never seen Mariko cry. But she was crying now, her face in her hands
and her shoulders quivering slightly. Despite all her experiences in combat,
Val was still a woman. She held her friend in her arms while silent tears
stained the shoulder of her shirt.

"You want to go through it, don't you." It was not a question.

"But if it fails..."

"You'll be no worse off than right now," Val said. "The doctors at Bethesda are
some of the best in the world. If it's possible, they can give you new legs."

Mariko started crying again, and for a long time Valerie just held her tightly
and waited for it to pass. After it did, she kissed Mariko on the head. The
women's' eyes met. Mack's were red, as were her cheeks, and both women were
suddenly very aware of their breasts pressing together.

Neither of them knew how long their lips were touching. Something told the both
of them that what they were doing was all right, that one of them needed it,
and the other needed to give it.

"I'm sorry," Mack said after their lips parted. "I shouldn't have done that."

"It's okay. I suppose I need to make up for never having a lesbian experience
in college."

Mack decided that she needed to laugh. It felt good, per she made herself
continue. Soon Val joined her.

"You've never had a lover before?" Val asked after they calmed down. Mack just
shook her head.

Feeling as if she were driven by some instinct, Val scooped her friend out of
her chair, never breaking eye contact as she carried her over to the bed.
Mariko was set down gently, feeling herself tremble as they kissed again. They
began to undress each other. As she undid the other's brassiere, Val noticed
that Mack's breasts were bigger than her own. She started removing the full,
bulky skirt when Mariko started to hesitate.

"No, wait..!" But it was too late. Val only glanced briefly at what remained of
her legs.

"You think this shocks me?" she said after a moment. "Mack, I've seen injuries
a lot worse than this. And most of those injuries, they didn't survive."

For some reason, Mariko seemed immensely reassured. After a moment they kissed
again, Val moving along her earlobe and down her neck. Her warm breath and
gentle attentions were causing Mariko to shiver in a way she had never known.
She was over thirty and had never even had a sexual experience before.

She heard a low moan as soft lips and hard teeth closed around her nipple, and
realized it was her. The sounds kept coming from her own throat as Val moved
from one breast to the other. She also noticed a dampness between her thighs
and a strangely urgent warmth filling her.

The warm kisses moved slowly down her stomach, and a warm, wet tongue explored
in and around her navel. Val paused to remove Mariko's panties. For a few
seconds she stared at the other woman's dark patch of pubic hair. She kissed
the top of the full thatch. It was very soft, and the aroma coming from within
filled her entire head. With her hands she spread her open, examining the
delicate moist, pink tissues, then took her first taste of another woman.

Mariko's breath explode from her. She lost herself in the rising waves of
ecstasy. She couldn't even hear the mewing gasps she was making as her blood
roared in her ears. The pulses of pleasure running through her increased in
intensity. She sensed she was very close to something wonderful when suddenly
they stopped.

She opened her eyes. She was panting, and the noise of her own breath surprised
her. Val finished undressing, never breaking eye contact with her new lover.
Without a word, she positioned herself above the other woman, facing where her
feet would have been. Their fingers intertwined as they tasted each other,
their moans muffled into each other's bodies as they climaxed together.

When it was all over, they kissed, tasting their own wetness on the other's
lips. They held each other, silently listening their own breath and heartbeats.
Mariko had never felt so cared for or welcome with another person. For the
first time she looked at her legs without shame or remorse.

"Valerie?" She said after a long time.

"Yes?"

"I want you to promise me something."

Val lifted her head on one elbow, resting her hand on Mariko's stomach.
"Anything."

Mack smiled. "I want you to help me pick out some shoes."


So what do you think of my first attempt at sci-fi? It was inspired by the
robot sexy art of Hajime Soroyama. A follow-up is in the works right now.
Questions and comments are always welcome: Tasty183@aol.com

This story is part of White_Shadow's_Nasty_Stories.
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