| Angel's Addiction The lights flickered slightly in the habitat J-14's docking bay. The habitat's name had been Haven, a space station attached to one of Jupiter's many asteroid-sized moons. Tethered like a ball on a string. Other than Angel's own ship, the other craft looked mostly unflyable. Many looked as if they had been stripped, probably cannibalized for parts.Angel stood in an e-suite, one she had made with her company logo. A nude female angel carrying a large package that covered all the naughty parts. The Men — Angel assumed they were men anyway — wouldn't let Angel leave the docking bay, they wouldn't let Alison gossip with the habitat's artificial life forms, or download even basic information from the habitat's computers. The pod was white — almost a perfect 1 meter cube. Covered is raises and grooves — probably carrying coolant to maintain temperature. Using a dolly they wheeled the cart up the ramp into the Icarus's cargo hold. Everyone she saw were in e-suits, their visors darkened. Everyone was being very mysterious. One of the faceless dockworkers — possibly a foreman — spoke to Angel in a modified voice. “If it comes down to it — we would rather you eject the pod into space than open it.” “Guys this isn't my first run, whatever you're hiding in there its probably something I've smuggled before.” “Do not open the pod!” the foreman poked Angel in the chest with a gloved finger. “Alright, alright — don't shit your e-suit.” “Tell me again where the package is to go.” “I know where it goes.” “Tell me! They're paying you enough.” “37 degrees, sixteen minutes north, 45 degrees zero degrees East — I am to give the 'package' to a woman who will give a call sign 'Erato' and she will give me the other half of my pay.” For what they were paying her they could have bought their own ship — why even bother with her? “The Package is in your ship — the 10,000 Jovians promised are in your account — now leave!” Angel made a kissy face, “Only because you asked so nicely.” Angel ran up the ramp and prepared the ship for launch. Through the docking bay doorway Jupiter was clearly visible — though the iconic red spot lay on the other side. Angel — I know this is scary, but with your mother gone there is no one else. I have needs, and they need to be satisfied by a woman who loves me. You love me don't you?” “Isn't this wrong?” “Are you sure? Look in scripture — cover to cover. It does not say even once that love between father and daughter is wrong. When Lot's wife died, his daughters quickly took their mother's place. Are you saying the bible is wrong?” “No father.” “Do you love me as much as your mother did?” Of course Angel loved the tall powerful man who had instructed her to strip naked as he did the same. “Yes Father.” “Good — I know it is uncomfortable at first — but with practice you will get better. Oh and don't tell anyone — no one wants to know the intimate details of our private lives.” Angel was half asleep and half watching a vid she'd seen about 200 times already. The Terrible Tentacle monster of Europa IV. She'd hoped the Haven's had something she hadn't seen before. The movie was interrupted when Alison decided to personify herself on the main view screen, a short haired red-head. She wore the same gray jumpsuit with a company logo.as Angel. Except of course Angel had her suit set to “baggy” for comfort — Alison's was so tight it looked painted on. Angel's hair long and dark — disheveled. Personal grooming sometimes became hit or miss on long space journeys., “Angel, there's a signal in the cargo bay. Its reading like a data transmission.” “The Pod?” “What else could it be?” “Did you try to jam it?” “No — I thought it'd be great if everyone knew our position — carrying illegal goods and all.” “Yeah — Yeah, I'll check it out.” Angel pulled herself from the pilot's chair and climbed down the ladder to the cargo bay. Most of the ship's open space lay in the cargo bay. Right now it was mostly empty — save for odd bit's of Angel's personal junk that she didn't have the heart to recycle. Oh and the Pod. A one meter cube snow-white Pandora's box with a temperature gage, a handprint reader and a few controls. The rises and grooves formed a maze on the sides, making it look as much a puzzle as a container. Plenty big enough to hide a small transmitter. But then why would the Haven's bug the pod? Why call her and her ship to an area of the Jovian system, well away from shipping lanes, give her a pod and *then* kill her? It would be easier to blow her ship to bits on approach. No — they invested too much in this — someone else wanted her dead, or the pod for themselves — whatever it was. As she searched the pod — every rise and groove, all the coolant tubing and vents, she occasionally heard a long drawn out humm, followed a a click, from the object's internal mechanism. If someone- other than the Havens knew she had it, did they know *what* exactly she had? Angel didn't know what she had. “There you are. Who do you belong to?” The nonk was wedged into a crevasse. Nearly transparent it could be easily overlooked if one did not search carefully. A nonk was little more than a complex program wrapped in a gelatin like glob of polymer with some nanotech to keep it moving..They were versatile little things, and only a few poeple knew how to make them Angel pulled the knife from her belt and slid it into the groove, trying to pry the entity out.. To Angel's annoyance the blade cut straight through the gelatinous robot's body — the two halves rejoining in a matter of seconds. Angel slide the knife in a second time — making sure the dull end was pointed towards her. She angled it so as much of the flat as was possible pushed against the body of the synthetic beasty. The nonk resisted — attaching psuedo pods to the sides of the groove, but with a little effort she pulled the nonk out — that's when the alarms sounded. An obnoxious throaty sounding siren — one of course meant to annoy you into action. Angel flung the nonk onto the floor and squished it under her heel. The transmission had surely stopped, but that didn't matter any longer.
Angel tried resetting the temperature — but pushing the buttons did no good.
Angel smacked the pod and swore, “I'm trying! Alison our paycheck is defrosting!”
“Hang on,” the matter of seconds it took seemed impossibly long to Angel — then the alarm stopped.
“Please — no applause is necessary — just throw money.” “Uh huh — so how did you let that thing on our ship in the first place?” “Well because some human female I shall not name spent all my sensor upgrade money gambling.” “I had a system!” “Uh oh, we have company.” “Probably the owner of that nonk.Increase acceleration to 1.25 g” “It's the Titania. He wants to talk.” Alison didn't have to explain more. The sudden increase in thrust nearly knocked her flat. The Icarus had no weapons — it depended on stealth and speed, the nonk had rendered the first irrelevant. Angel sighed, “Patch him through.” “Angel — I was hoping against hope it was you.” The voice was deep, rich and smooth, almost musical. A voice that could make you trust it. The sweet voice of a monster. Angel didn't like the phrase “space pirate” it sounded retro-futuristic. And it evoked corny images of men with parrots and peg-legs.Oberon was the kind of man that kept travelers close to the main trade routes. In a way it was also why Angel was employed — she was one of the few couriers willing to risk the less populated areas of the Jovian system. “Your nonk nearly damaged my cargo.” Angel did her best to sound indignant. “And what pray tell could be in that stasis pod? What would be worth the exorbitant fee that you would charge?” “Its nothing you would be interested in.” “But Angel — I am interested in everything.” “It's the complete works of Stephen King The original paperbacks.” Oberon hated Stephen King — he was so *pedestrian* “In a stasis pod?” “They're three hundred years old and on cheap paper — they have to be kept under very controlled conditions. My employer will be *very* upset if he doesn't get his cargo.” Oberon laughed hearty, slightly synthetic sounding laugh. “What if I told you that I got enough information from the nonk to know they aren't books? Do you even know what you have?.Would you like to know? Bring the pod to me and we can find out together.” Angel faced towards a security cam, she used sign language to say “defrost the cargo — I have a plan.” Well she had half a plan — she figured that once she explained that she wasn't going to turn them in for whatever half-monkey — half wombat or whatever was in the pod, they might pay her anyway. Hopefully it was something they could preserve. At the very least she would know what the big deal was. The temperature of the pod was slightly above freezing — maybe she could keep it in the Icarus cooler. The image of illegal goods being kept next to her Zagnar ( “the almost orange soda”) was almost comical. Assuming this whatever-it-was didn't disintegrate on contact with air.. “Angel — stop running from me — the crew misses you. Turn about and hand the Pod over to me willingly and you will be forgiven. Come home to us — and the only one in the universe you will have to fear, is me.” Tempting — but no. “Give me a few minutes to consider my options.” The restore program began —
“You have no options — give me the pod willingly or I will take it from you.” Angel signed “Faster.” The thrust pulled her to the floor — One and a half times gravity, she hoped the Titania was too massive to keep pace. The temperature in the pod rose slowly — it was slightly above freezing when it started — now it was at 3 C.. They would not have time. The ship shuddered slightly — it could not be a particle beam — they carry only a negligible amount of momentum. A rocket? No — Oberon wouldn't risk losing his prize A grappler? Yes- she had done that to other ships in her own time on the Titania. They hadn't slowed so it didn't take hold. 4 C. “All right — you can have the pod! Let me get out of the Cargo bay and I will drop it into space for you.” There was no more time — Angel forced the door open, and when she saw the pod's contents her heart stopped. “Jesus Christ.” Angel shook herself she would not have time, “Alison drop us to 1 G — once I am out of the Cargo hold — eject the pod into space.Do you hear that Oberon You win, just let my ship go..” Alison sounded worried, “I hope you know what you're doing.” “We don't have a choice.” Then true to Angel's word the pod was ejected into space. If it had been kept closed it would be more than capable of keeping its contents safe for several hours. More than enough time for Oberon to bring it aboard. True to Oberon's word ( which he sometimes kept so as to maintain the illusion of honor ) he let the Icarus go. Alison pushed back up to a 2 G burn just to be sure. “Father — I don't want to do this any more. It makes me uncomfortable. I do love you — but I am not mom.“ ”Alright — if it makes you uncomfortable, I won't make you do it.” Angel let out a sigh of relief. It took her days to work up the courage to say “no” — on Nazareth no one said “no” to a grown-up. More importantly Angel was able as a Christian, to forgive, she would put what happened behind her. It was an aberration. She would pretend it never happened. “Father — what are we having for dinner?” Her father took a deep breath, “ I don't want to do that anymore, I love you but I am not your mother.” “1,2,3,4", Angel forced air into the little girl's lungs. Her body was still cold. She had not been frozen it wasn't true suspended animation. That would have required removal of her blood. This girl was kept in a kind of induced coma, her breathing and heart rate kept down to the bare minimum. “1,2,3,4", unfortunately the shock of being pulled out of the pod had shut her off completely. The girl was beautiful — inhumanly so. Pointed ears and long purple hair, and large eyes like some kind of anime girl come to life. It was illegal to impose such cosmetic operations on a minor, but that wasn't enough to explain all the secrecy. Or the pod. Alison decelerated to 1 G with instructions to kick it back up to 2 G's if the Titania should show up again. The girl coughed and shook, her whole body shivering. Her breathing had started again, but she was still freezing. “Hang on just a little while longer,” carrying the girl to her quarters and slipped her under the covers. Angel then slipped off her own clothes and climbed in with her. Her father, despite his many faults had the virtue of teaching his daughter how to survive. Angel held the little girl close. The girl was frigid cold against Angel's skin. “Hang on. Hang on.” Angel had suspected the girl was transgenic. Genetic engineering of humans was not specifically illegal, but it was very strictly regulated. Mostly to eliminate.certain negative traits. Why not send a test tube full of zygotes? It would be easier to smuggle. Most of the “skin trade” these days was in zygotes, they were easier to move around. There were still couples that chose to give birth the “old fashioned way” — that is in utero. But only the most fanatic retro would actually resort to simple sexual reproduction. Why not send her as an adult? Old enough to do whatever she needed to do?. By now Oberon had learned that the pod was empty — he probably wasn't even surprised. “Who made you little one? And why?” It was during one day —or whatever past for “day” on Nazareth that the Elders came to Angel's father's apartment.. “Your daughter is talking back to her teachers,” said a stately looking man with long gray hair — handsome despite his age. “She's moody and anti social. She doesn't want to participate in peer activities.” The woman was *pld* wrinkles upon wrinkles that reminded Angel of a Sharpe' The third elder, bald and pale, “ She is disruptive. Refuses to complete tasks she is assigned. She fails to turn in homework.” The three elders didn't say anything else, they just stared at Angel's father. “Of course — I will have a talk with her.” The next morning Angel was quite apologetic. That? I burned myself making dinner for my father...I'm sure it won't happen again. The purple haired girl finally opened her eyes. Those overly large violet eyes “Are you my mistress?” The voice was high pitched even for a girl's, and a bit too smooth, almost musical, to be human. “No. You're probably wondering what you are doing in bed with me.” The girl shook her head. ngel decided to explain anyway, “Your stasis pod failed — I had to pull you out. You were so cold, this was the only way I had to warm you.” “Am I going to my mistress?” Alison broke in, “Little one — do you know anything about your mistress?” “Only I know she is someone important on Europa. Are we close to Europa?” Angel climbed out of bed, she walked to her closet and started to dress. The light gray jumpsuit with a company logo. Even if she and Alison were the whole company, it made her look professional. The jumpsuit could be loose and baggy or skin tight and form fitting — depending on the kind of client she was with. Right now she set it to “baggy”, comfort was what was important now. Angel sat on the bed, “What is your name?” Absent mindedly Angel stroked the girl's hair — smooth, long silken strands. The girl's head leaned instinctively into Angel's hand. “What name do you wish me to have mistress?” Angel let out an annoyed sigh, “First I am never *ever* to be referred to as 'mistress', 'miss', 'ms', 'ma'am' or 'sir',” the last being a peculiarity of the Europan army — all female, officers were still called “sir”, ”Second everyone on this ship — you, me, Alison, are free persons.” The girl's face turned quizzical, “ Who is Alison? We're is she?” Alison made a whistling noise, “Hello — hi!” The girl laughed, “Don't be silly — she's the computer.” Alison sounded offended, “I am an artificial life form — the Icarus's computer just happens to be my home right now. Angel emancipated me — I am legally human.” Angel looked deep into those too big purple eyes, she took the girl's hands into her own. She leans her forehead against the girl's It felt good to be so close to her. She even smelled nice. ”What name did they call you were you lived?” “Violet,” not surprising, “but I will answer to any name you choose.” “I like Violet. “, Angel leaned in resting her forehead on the girl's she had the oddest urge to kiss the girl. Angel had the impression the girl wouldn't mind. “If you wish Mis...what would you have me call you?” “My name is Angel.” The girl smiled sweetly, a smile that made Angel's heart pound. The woman forced herself away, standing suddenly. “Angel — when will I see my mistress?” Angel and Alison had already changed course — to Io. They could just as easily turned her over to authorities on Europa — but she hoped not to run into Oberon, or Violet's creators again. “Soon.” “You're lying.” The girl wasn't angry — it was a statement of fact. “Are you aware it is illegal — it has been illegal for hundreds of years to sell little girls as property?” “I am not property — I am created by Her that made all — and I was made as a helpmate for one person, my soulmate, my destiny, my mistress. And when I am with her I will be complete.” Angel was at a loss, so Alison stepped in. “Is that what the poeple who raised you told you?” “Yes the Keepers told us we were being prepared for our Masters and Mistresses, those favored by the Goddess.” “Alison and I think you might be a little confused, we are going to take you somewhere you will be safe.” “But I will be safe with my mistress. I have been preparing myself my whole life for her. To serve her and please her in all ways.” “I am sure you can learn to do other things, go to school with other girls. You can be a normal kid.” “But I'm special — I want to serve my mistress. The Keepers told me she is very rich — I am sure she will reward you. Will you bring me to her? Please?” Violet got up from the bed, naked and without shame, she embraced Angel, “Please, please, please.” It was strangely comfortable to have that pretty warm body against her. Involuntarily Angel wrapped her arms around the girl, “I'm sorry — when we get to Io, the counselors there will make you understand.” Angel wasn't sure of that, she'd had very little faith in psychologists, but other than delivering the girl to her mistress, therapy seemed her immediate future. Counseling her until she felt as miserable and betrayed as she was supposed to. “Why don't we start by fabbing you some clothes?” She sought her father's praise, and the praise of the Elders and her teachers. Being a “good” girl was the only thing open to her. Even if being 'good' in school and in Chapel were different than at home. It was surprising how quickly she adapted once she let go. She would even make the first move sometimes. This pleased him a lot- the illusion of consent. It became another part of the routine — like making her bed or doing her homework. “She knew I was lying,” Angel rubbed her eyes. Angel had the urge to go back into the room, the girl was dressing. It wasn't as is Violet had any modesty “It's not that amazing — she might have just guessed,” Alison had decided to personify herself on the main view screen. A short haired skinny girl in the “company” uniform. Angel had adjourned the cockpit, it would be another day before they reached Io. Maybe they lost him, maybe he'd found other prey and just didn't care. “She seemed so certain.” “'Slave' does not mean 'stupid'.” ”Why make a smart love slave?” “Geisha were expected to know a variety of subjects — History, Music, Poetry, philosophy. Even you can't have sex all the time.” “Hey! I am in space for up to a week at a time with only you to talk to. “ ”No one is passing judgement.” Men could seem kind sometimes. Kind and Sincere. Alison's avatar smiled mischievously “ You seem smitten with that girl.” “Don't be disgusting.” “I didn't mean it *that* way. But it might be nice if you had someone other than me to talk to. We'll just tell our employers we had to eject the pod — which is true — we don't have to tell them it was empty.” “And what about the brainwashing? How do we deprogram her?” Violet lay in bed with her legs outstretched. The being known as Alison said she would fab her some clothes soon. No hurry, Violet was perfectly happy being naked. Or clothed, or whatever state her mistress wanted her to be in. Mistress. The name for a faceless being, a Goddess, her destiny. As important to her as the End of Days to a Christian. Her earliest memories were of preparation for this day. The Keepers said she had been trained even before she could remember. Now sadly — this person called Angel wanted to take her away from her Mistress. Angel didn't do so out of spite — Violet could read it in the woman's face, smell it in her sweat. She was sincere. Maybe another had deceived her. Or maybe, like in the stories the Keepers read to her, there needs to be conflict to keep lovers apart so that once they are together they don't take their love for granted. Yes — Angel is like Prospero, and Alison like Ariel...and. Angel seemed to like her — but that was normal. Everyone liked her — she was a good girl. The keepers said so — they can smell a good girl. Absent mindedly she ran her fingers over the folds of her pussy. Rubbing she sighed. She tried to picture her Mistress — but Angel's face kept appearing.. It disappointed Violet that Angel wasn't her mistress. She was so beautiful, so powerful, she was meant to be a mistress. Maybe the keepers would give Angel one of her sisters. Azure was the adventurous one — a perfect companion. Still in Violet's mind she couldn't imagine Azure with Angel — she imagined herself.. She imagined herself having grand adventures and keeping the woman's bed warm. That would change for certain — she'd been infatuated before, but once she saw her mistress that would all end. They would be together forever, and she would send a picture of the two of them together — Angel would know everything was alright. She was happy. Violet reached inside herself and found the small cylinder hidden inside. Should she be lost or stolen she would activate the tracer and the Keepers would find her. She took hold of it and slid it part way out, then back in. Slowly — not trying to make herself cum, just the wonderful feeling of being aroused. Violet sighed and squirmed on the bed. Was she lost? No — she was going to “somewhere safe”, was she stolen? No — not really. Angel wasn't a bad woman, she just needed to be made to see reason. No this was just another part of the adventure, the trial the Goddess aranged for her to test her faith. But as she pleasured herself Violet could only see herself before Angel on her hands and knees, kissing the woman's feet. For Violet — this was heaven. Angel pushed the intercom button,“Violet can I come in?” “It's your ship.” the girl's voice sounded slightly strained. “Alison — could you take a peek?” “Oh yeah — you might want to wait a few more minutes.” “Have her clothes been fabbed?” the Fab was a device that could make a variety of items, so long as it was made from the variety of polymers available in the tanks. “Yeah — they were finished a few minutes ago.” “Violet — call me when you have gotten dressed.” “Oh-Oh — OK!” Angel blushed, trying not to think about what was going on on the other side of the thankfully soundproofed door. “Don't be a hypocrite Angel — you do it too.” “I don't care if she masturbates — she's just so shameless.” “Modesty is learned — we aren't born wearing clothes.” “What do you mean 'we' synthetic one?” “You know what I meant.” A chime sounded, “I'm done!” a girl's voice said. “Are you dressed?” Angel wasn't opening the door until she was dressed. Its not that nudity bothered her per se', just if Violet was going to pass for a “normal” girl she'd need to learn certain habits. “Do I have to wear these? They're ugly.” “When we get to Io we'll download some new patterns.” There were usually plenty of would-be clothing designers offering their patterns for free. “Promise?” “We'll see.” Violet came out in a brown one piece jump suite — identical to the one that Angel wore. “Sorry sweety — Angel isn't big on dress up.” Alisons's Avatar frowned. Angel smirked at Alison's remark. The Nonk having been stomped into the floor of the cargo hold, it did not get swept out when the hull was depressurized. Nanites skittered about like tiny ants collecting materials to repair the host. A lot of damage was done to the memory systems, the Nonk would have to be built up from the boot cells. “I'm bored.” The two words made Violet seem at least for a few moments to be a normal human girl. “Well what do you do for fun?” “I play —“ ”That you can do with your jumpsuit on.” “- Guitar.” “Wait, I have a guitar. Alison where is my guitar?” “About 3 hours behind us, in orbit around Jupiter.” “Son of a bitch!” “What? You never practiced — and you had plenty of time.” “I know.” Alison paused, “Do you play keyboard? I can create a virtual keyboard.” The cockpit's touchscreen controls turned to a virtual piano keyboard. “I play a little — Emerald was best with the keyboard.” No one needed to fly the ship — effectively the laws of physics were keeping them on course. And one of Angel's subsystems would alert her in case of an emergency. Violet was good — not concert good, but better than most girls her age. The music was oddly sad, heartfelt, with time Violet's fingers gained confidence. Angel stroked the girl's unnaturally silky hair, the girl sang a wordless song, a kind of random vocalization, meant to accompany and support the piano. “Emerald? She was a girl like you?” “Yes — she was my sister, you'd love her. She was an adventurer like you. “, she resumed vocalizing. “I'm not an adventurer — I'm just a glorified delivery girl.” “No — you're an adventurer — I can tell. Why did you open my pod?” “I told you. Something went wrong.” Angel leaned in and Violet leaned on Angel's shoulder. “But there is more — I can tell.” “A bad man named Oberon wanted to steal you — I openned the pod and gave him the empty hoping it would distract him.” The girl kissed Angel's cheek, and smiled sweetly. The angled features of the girl's face were at once beautiful and alien. “I wish you could be my mistress. There I said it.” Alison cleared her virtual throat, “ We were talking about that — you know Angel is a very lonely woman, and she is quite taken with you.” “Alison!” Violet lifted her head from Angel's shoulder- she stopped playing, “No — my mistress is my destiny. She is waiting for me, I can't be selfish.” Angel embraced the girl and kissed her cheek, she smelled so nice. So nice. Angel pulled away like she had just seen a poisonous snake. “Violet you have to go to my quarters and not come out until we reach Io.” “Why did I do something wrong?” “Just go! Please!” Violet seemed alarmed and did as she was instructed. What else would she do?... In the two hours since Violet had been sent to her room, Angel had masturbated herself to orgasm twice. No matter how hard she tried images of the girl filled her mind. Images of her in the nude, of Angel covering that pretty naked body with kisses. Thoughts of the two of them in bed, holding one another. Holding hands wherever they went. Og her in pretty dresses — not fabbed, but cotton, silk, even wool ( the last being the most expensive this far out ) — — the urge to run in and grab her was so strong it made her sick. And Angel knew Violet wanted her to. Pheromones The girl was probably churning them out by the liter. But why? If her mistress was some kind of pedo that was into little girl surely she needed no further encouragement. “Should we still go to Io? Or maybe New Johanassbergh?” “Human pheromones can affect close primates.” The Boons of New Johanassberg were a bit xenophobic anyway. “Is she safe anywhere?” Angel zipped up her jumpsuit. “She's asking about you. She's convinced you're mad at her. I don't think she handles being alone well.” “She'll survive — when we get to Io, I'll tell them she's a biohazard risk.“ Angel imagined what would happen kept in a bubble — separated from everyone else. Was it really better than the alternatives? The lights flickered slightly. “Sorry — there is a computer virus — —wait — there — deleted.” “How could you have a virus? We swept right after leaving that habitat. Was it in the pod's systems?” “I don't know — but its gone now.” The keyboard on control panel flickered dramatically. Random imaged appeared on the front view screen before Alison's Avatar came back. “What the hell? I thought you deleted the virus.” “I did — it came back — I'll do a deep scan, hang on.” The Keyboard came back and the lights steadied. Alison sounded concerned, “I have the virus quarantined — hmm, pretty complex. There's another one — slightly different. Self mutating or are new viruses being downloaded I wonder?” “Can you handle it?” “Oh yes — my anti-virus uses very similar adaptive technology, loosely based on the human immune system. But I can't do it forever.” “Were could we have gotten it — its been a long time since we've been near a strange computer.” then Angel thought, “Is the cargo bay repressurized?” “No — but it can be in a few minutes, why?” “The Nonk.” The light turned green and Angel opened the airtight hatch, climbing down. — the cargo bay was empty of course. Having been evacuated into space back when they encountered Oberon.. “Alison can you use internal scans to find the Nonk.” “I could if someone hadn't spent my scanner upgrades gambling.” “I'm sorry — I promise not to spend your upgrade money at the casinos any more..” Angel pulled out her gun — it was more for her own personal comfort, the Nonk was not a physical threat Then Angel started to float off of the floor, she put her pistol away needing both hands to swim through the air. Traveling through space Angel didn't think of the near constant roar of the thrusters — but their absence was definitely noticeable. “Alison who turned off the gravity?” “I think out Nonk — try the access panel to your left — the Nonks don't have eyes, they follow magnetic fields to electronics — the fields are slightly stronger there. Angel pushing herself through the air to the nearest access panel. Sure enough a transparent blob of pulsing gelatin-like polymer had its tentacles wrapped around both the electronics and the fiber-optic cables. “Yes their it is. How do we get it out without damaging the ship's system?” “I'll rout power away from that — It should instinctively seek greener pastures.” Light left the fiber optics, and presumably electricity in the power cables ceased. Tentacles withdrew into the bulbous mass and Angel grabbed the sticky creature — tentacles instinctively wrapped around her hand — she slapped the creature against the wall repeatedly until it let go — then she stomped on it, finally, setting her pistol to ultra-violet she melted whatever remained — leaving a crusty dead puddle. “Alison — how about the virus?” “Without the Nonk to reload it — I already have it out of the primary systems — I'm going to check the secondary systems now.” Violet found it delightful floating about — she playfully pushed herself off of walls and the ceiling, turning somersaults and doing flips in the air. When the fab turned on she didn't think much of it — maybe Alison was making her something. When the clear gelatinous ooze flowed from the fab — she wondered what was wrong. Was the fab broken. Then the ooze started to take shape, forming itself into a balloon, pushing itself through 0 G with jets of air. Then the fab made another — and another. She squealed in delight — until they attached themselves to her body. “Angel — Violet's in danger!” The woman swam as fast as she could through the air of the cargo bay. It was nightmarishly slow — the atmosphere was meant for breathing not pushing against. “Alison — open the door to my quarters!” Pulling herself up the ladder and launching herself at the doorway — once inside Angel was greeted with the sight of Violet wrestling with two nonks — one had encased her hand the other was around her throat, a third covered her face. the gurgling noise from the Fab told her there was a fourth on the way. Angel aimed her pistol at the Fab and fired — cutting the device in half with a beam of ultraviolet light. She then launched herself at Violet grabbing the nonk around her face with one hand, and the one on her throat with the other.. Pieces of it came loose — the remainders closing tighter. Angel had never felt so terrified — never for her own life. She could not use the gun without hurting the little girl. And not using it She tore at the things like a madwoman. Nonks were supposed to follow magnetic fields humans produced very weak feiulds compared to the elctronics that surrounded them. Something chemical It was insane — she reached into her nightstand and grabbed the perfume and spilled its contents on the floor. Instantly the nonks released their victim, the perfume contained human pheromones — as the nonk gathered around the puddle — Angel shot them- melted into crusted puddles on the floor. The girl coughed loudly, breathing hard. “Violet are you alright?” “I wish you hadn't destroyed the fab. I think I wet my Jumpsuit.” Night came — or a period that was arbitrarily labeled “night”. Angel held Violet close — the girl was too frightened to sleep alone. The girl was glad Angel wasn't mad at her any more. No — the emotion the woman had smelled more like guilt. It was an emotion the girl was not very familiar with, but it was one that she felt now. Alison was asleep too — Violet didn't know computers slept — but the Alf explained it was good for routine maintenance — optimization, deletion of unused files, fixing errors in her code. The ships subsystems would wake her if anything bad happened. Violet reached inside herself — this time not for self pleasure, but for the transmitter itself. Angel had made all kinds of promises about their lives from now on, They had enough money left for a new fab — and patterns for many clothes were available for free download ( there were lots of wanna-be designers out there ) — meant she could have pretty clothes. Angel promised she would go straight for her — a nice normal life just the three of them. The ships subsystems were certainly set to pick up on any unexpected radio transmissions, lest the surprisingly.adaptive nonks make yet another appearance. Violet wanted to believe Angel, despite promises of normalcy Violets imagination filled with images of adventures around Jupiter's moons — fighting pirates and seeing places she only saw in space operas. But the bonks were a sign — she had a sacred mission, a Mistress who was meant for her. The attack had happened right after she said she wished Angel was her mistress. She had been tempted, and the Goddess punished her. She wanted to stay with her new friends — but if she did, they might get in the way of Her wrath. No matter how much she wanted to deny it, she had a destiny. A short message might go unnoticed — might appear as a bit of radio noise — or a broadcast from another ship. Fortunately Violet only needed two characters.
It is surprising what can become routine. Her father enjoyed when Angel was brazen — aggressive. It made the man feel desirable. And since his praise was the only reward Angel could hope for, she sought it. She was — in her father's eyes a “good girl”. In the habitat she made sure to help out as much as she could — she made sure to be respectful of the Elders and do well in school — she was in their eyes a “good girl”. And she made a conscious effort to keep these two worlds separate. It was two weeks before her fourteenth birthday — she had made sure to be an *extra* good girl for her father by performing oral sex on him in the lift — it was the middle of the night ( so much as “night” or “day” have any meaning in outer space ) — she had no idea that one of the engineers was being kept up by anxiety over a minor malfunction in Nazareth's temperature regulators. When the lift doors didn't open he used his personal override. The trial was swift and without mercy. And less than a week before her birthday she was there to witness sentence. Angel was there to witness her father being pushed out an airlock. She was there to see him struggling for breath, arms reaching for something to grab onto — falling, falling Those ejected into space did not suddenly explode — as many assume. Angel was aware that at that very moment Nitrogen was bubbling out of his blood stream, being carried to his joints. His last moments would be one of excruciating pain. When Angel cried her foster parents assumed it was tears of joy. “I bet you're glad to see that bastard die.” Io was almost in sight — they were home free. The ship was decelerating — pointed away from the planet, slowing at a rate of 1 gravity, A ship approached them from the side.. The ship was slightly smaller than the Icarus, but that was probably do to the lack of a large cargo hold. The new ship was a dull white, almost bone colored, with two wicked looking particle cannons The Icarus was already decelerating — so it could not exactly ask it to stop, instead the new ship simply kept pace with the Icarus. “Angel I've tried calling them — they seem unwilling to answer hails.” Alison sounded genuinely worried. Violet unzipped and started fishing inside the crotch. “Jesus Christ! Not now!” “No wait — I gotta get something.” She pulled out a small black tube shaped device. “They'll answer this.” Angel held onto it delicately, covered in little girl juice Angel was afraid to touch it. “Sweety — do you know these people?” Alison spoke. “Oh yeah — these are the Keepers, they're here to pick me up.” Angel used the communicator, “White vessel we have the girl — we haven't called the police — we will surrender her to you without a struggle.” Angel had no intention of letting Violet go — but the Icarus had no weapons of its own. She needed to stall until she came up with a plan. “Let me speak to Violet..” the voice was harsh — maybe disguised in some way. Angel handed to communicator over to Violet, “ Its OK — Angel has been very nice to me. She only took me here to protect me. She's a good person — really.” “You call her Angel? Not 'Mistress'?” Violet's muscles tightened, “She didn't want to be called 'mistress' Keeper, I was only doing as she instructed.” “The first person you were supposed to see was your mistress. No one else was to occupied your mind. I am sorry — but you have been corrupted — for the good of your sisters and our mission, you will need to die.” “I understand — shall I use the airlock? Keeper? “, Angel was horrified that such a little girl could be so casual about her death. In the space operas, battles are dramatic and noisy — a brightly colored beam hits a ship causing it to shudder, loud rumbling noises and sparks of electricity demonstrate the damage happening to the ship. The beam that hit Icarus was barely visible, there was only the slightest shudder as the cargo bay vented atmosphere through the wound.. The Keepers couldn't let any of them live — any knowledge of their “mission” might be devastating. “Keepers! Please, they didn't tell! Please don't hurt my friends!” “Alison cut engines turn us around!” in order to decelerate to a stop they were faced away from Io — turning around and accelerating was the best thing Angel could think of. Halfway in the turn a particle beam hit the thrusters — a second hit the propellant tanks. Vented CO2 caused the Icarus to lurch and spin wildly. “We've lost primary thrust!” unlike the space operas there was no “evasive action” — computer controlled particle beams didn't miss their targets. Angel wished she believed in some kind of God Prayer seemed to be their only option. “They've stopped.” Angel regretted saying that, as if her words might start the attack again. “There is another ship on the edge of scanner range.” Angel could make the dark shape in the distance then several bright lights — the white ship turned itself around — some of the white spots detonated — presumably by particle beams — but despite the white ship's best efforts, one object, a missile, made it through. A bright fiery explosion and then scrap was all that remained of the keeper ship. Angel didn't need to be told the name of the new ship. The enemies of your enemies aren't always your friends. “Icarus — prepare to be boarded, hand over your cargo and no one will get hurt.” The melodious bass voice sent chills down Angel's spine. |