Matthew S. Cox's Blog, page 18

Daughter of Mars #86 | (Death Row)

(Start from the beginning)

Kree wriggled, making little grunts and growls of annoyance as she attempted to escape the arms wrapped around her. Risa held the girl in her lap, clinging like a frightened child to a favorite doll. She sat on the bed in her private room, back against the wall, safe behind a closed door. Her milky white left shoulder slipped through the neck of an oversized black t-shirt, which devoured her grey shorts. A single LED bulb at the center of the ceiling bathed bare plastisteel walls in harsh light, flickering every so often with a fluctuation in the power. Weak music streamed from the datapad on the floor by her foot. The same thirty-second bit looped from a paused video game. Risa hid her face in the child’s hair, holding on as if she’d die if she let go.

Death Row. Now I know why they call it that.

“Nuff hugs!” yelled Kree.

Risa swallowed hard. Guilt burdened her heart. Despite not having given birth to her, the idea―the truth―that Kree would be better off with someone else choked her throat dry. She shuddered for a few seconds before releasing her grip and letting the girl slide to the floor. Her thoughts ran away with the metaphor of letting her ‘slip away.’ Risa closed her eyes and concentrated on not crying in front of her.

I can’t let her see me weak. Pavo’s irreverent grin flashed against the back of her eyelids, the roguish wink he’d given her right before whacking her upside the head with a pillow in the hospital. She lost herself in memories of uncalibrated speedware flinging her around like a drunken ostrich on ice, and blurted out a laugh with tears streaming from her eyes. I’d do anything to get him back.

“What’s wrong?” asked a tiny voice.

“Just remembered something funny.” She smiled.

Datapad in hand, Kree clambered back onto the bed, crawled over, and flopped down next to her. Risa held her arm up so the girl could rest her head against her chest, and ran three fingers through her hair.

Kree tilted her head to the side. “Why does funny make you cry?”

Risa covered her face with both hands. For a few minutes, the sound of digitized explosions and dying aliens emanated from the girl’s datapad. What do I tell a six-year-old about Pavo?

The digital chaos fell silent as the game paused. “Was it that man you like that made you laugh and you’re crying because he’s not here?”

She let her arms fall in her lap. No point hiding. “I think it’s time for your shower.”

Kree made a raspberry noise, and unpaused her game. “Bleh.”

Risa did a double take at the screen. The cute spaceman game had been replaced by a first-person view down a biomatter-infested corridor full of mutilated bodies and horrifying alien creatures. Kree didn’t react to any of it, calm as she blasted her way through the depths of a stricken starship.

“What is that?”

“Colony Commando II.” Kree’s little hands grabbed, twisted, and pinched the air over the datapad, slaughtering demons with ease. “It’s pretty old. S’why it was free.”

“You shouldn’t be playing games like this.” Risa brushed her hand through Kree’s hair again. “This game is going to give me bad dreams.”

Kree paused the game and looked up at her. Aside from wide, sad eyes, the child’s face looked blank.

She’s already seen worse.

“Oh, sweetie… What happened to you?”

The child’s mouth opened as if she were about to speak. She looked down and her lip quivered.

What horrible memories are rattling around in your little head? “It’s okay.”

After a moment, Kree looked up with a fearful expression. “Me an’ Mommy were walking―”

A sharp double knock at the door startled a squeak from Kree. The girl cowered behind Risa.

“Risa.” Garrison’s voice came through the door, muffled but recognizable. “Can I talk to you?”

Bad timing. She patted Kree on the head. “It’s only Garrison. Calm down.”

The child’s mind emerged from whatever dark place it had gone. She crawled back to the datapad and dove back into the game, glaring at it as though she wished the world away.

“Yeah,” said Risa.

Garrison slipped in, closing the door behind him. He shook his head at the mess. “You really should clean your room, young lady.”

“Yeah.” She sighed. “S’pose it’s not too nice to the next person to get it.”

“Risa.” He swallowed and sat on the edge of the bed. “Don’t talk like that.”

“I’m only being realistic.”

Garrison twitched, eyeing her with a trace of resignation on his face. After a moment of silence, he reached over and grabbed her hand. “You’re being fatalistic, not realistic. I want you to reconsider that pipeline mission.”

“It must be dangerous. Even Maris almost seemed reluctant for me to take it.” Risa glanced at the coarse hand wrapped around hers, studying a halo of dark grime that surrounded each fingernail and highlighted every wrinkle. “What’s this?”

“What’s what?” Garrison’s voice wavered.

She raised their joined hands. “This this. You’re being clingy.”

“Clingy? I’m holding your hand.” He chuckled.

Risa smirked. “For you, this is clingy.”

“I know you blame me for letting them change you into some kind of machine, but you’re still my daughter.”

Risa stared downcast. How often had she screamed at him for this, that, or something else out of his control? Before Pavo carried her to the med center, before Shiro saved her from those thugs, Garrison had saved her from an early death on the street. “I never thanked you.”

“What? It feels like you’ve spent the past ten years angry with me.” He took a moment to collect himself, forcing the quake from his voice. “You’re right. I should’ve stopped them. I should’ve said no, forbidden it. I saw you hurting and thought it would help. You were an angry teenager lashing out. I should’ve known better.”

Risa gasped. “…should’ve dragged me along by the wrist.” Shiro. That’s what he meant.

“Muttering to Raziel again?” He forced a smile.

Risa slumped to her left and rested her head on his shoulder. Kree scooted over and leaned on her. “No… something Shiro said. You… I’ve been a bitch to you.”

“Everyone warned me a teenage daughter would be a handful.” A smile as though a weight had lifted from his soul vanished with a downcast glance. “I’m sorry I didn’t try harder to save you from your anger.”

“I’m getting over it.” She swished her feet back and forth. “Had a close call a few days ago.” She explained her run-in with Bax. “Being normal is overrated. I might be happier if I still had my eyes, but I think I’m okay with the rest.”

Garrison’s arm had tightened around her back during the story. He seemed at a loss for words.

“Your eyes are pretty,” muttered Kree, without looking away from her game. “I like purple more than other colors.”

“They’re almost impossible to hide.” Risa grumbled. “Obvious combat optics.”

“The visor’s even less subtle.” Garrison chuckled. “But you can take it off.”

“Yeah.” Risa teased Kree’s hair.

Garrison let out a long sigh. “Please don’t take that mission. I’ll take any fallout Maris throws your way. It’s too dangerous.”

Kree paused her game. “Why? She can do anything! She has speeware!”

Risa grabbed her throat as the lump grew.

“I don’t want you to do it.” Garrison leaned down to whisper. “I know talking you out of things has never worked before, but if you won’t stay alive for me… do it for her.”

“I…” Risa buried her face in her hands. Grief for Pavo, guilt at not realizing how much of a father Garrison had really been for her, and the effect it would have on Kree if she didn’t return left her shaking. “I…”

“Did Raziel say anything about this operation?”

She glanced sideways at him. “No. He hasn’t spoken to me much since Arden. I think I failed him. Maybe he’s gone for good.”

“Beings like him are fickle. Don’t take it personally.” He patted her shoulder. “Can I tell Maris you’re going to back out?”

“Back out?” Risa wiped tears from her face. “How would that look if I backed out? I’ve got a reputation to protect.”

“You’ve got a child to protect.” He gestured at Kree.

“What makes you think I’m running off to die?”

A gentle hand on her cheek pulled her gaze to meet his. “Because you have that look in your eyes like you’ve stopped caring. Pavo would not want you to get hurt.”

“Nobody can hurt Risa!” Kree bounded to her feet on the bed, making ‘cyberware’ noises and running in place while clawing at the air. “She’s too powerful!”

Risa’s NetMini chimed.

Kree jumped off the bed. “I got it!”

“I know,” muttered Risa. “I’m not gonna die. I’ve got people to kill first.”

“It’s for you.” Kree climbed onto the bed and into her lap, sticking the NetMini in her face.

“Yeah?” Risa swiped her thumb over the screen.

Tamashī’s six-inch holographic bust appeared, wide-eyed. “Risa! I need to see you right away. In person. It’s important… and about Pavo.”

“I’m coming.” Risa batted her hand at the hologram to hang up. After a moment of quiet, she looked at Garrison. “Stay with her for a bit?”

“Be careful.” Garrison stood to let her up. “Please be careful, and think about that mission. There’s gotta be another way. Airstrike… that should be an overt military operation.”

Risa squeezed Kree and slid off the bed, reaching for her ballistic suit. “I’m going to change. I know it makes you uncomfortable, so”―Garrison turned his back―“you might… thanks. The area is saturated with missile batteries and emplaced particle cannons.” She flung off her shirt and shorts before pulling on her armor. “Maris said we demanded the release of political prisoners or we’d hit them where it hurt. They responded by killing them all.” After zipping the suit to her jawline, she walked up behind him. “We can talk when I get back from Elysium.”

He turned at her touch. “I can’t lose you.”

“You saved my life.” Risa hugged him. “Thanks, Dad.”

Garrison braced a hand on the wall and sniffled.

She leaned back. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

He nodded.

Risa shrugged her weapons harness on and pulled the door open. A lone tear navigating the stubble of his cheek added another half-ton to the guilt she carried down the corridor on the way out of the safehouse.

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Daughter of Mars #80 | (A Better Life Part 2)

Daughter of Mars #79 | (A Better Life Part 1)

Daughter of Mars #81 | (A Better Life Part 3)

Daughter of Mars #85 | (Mourning)

(Start from the beginning)

Words escaped Risa as Shiro pulled her by the hand at a brisk walk through the Arcadia Exchange courtyard. He led her through a cluster of doomsday prophets at the north end, all shaved bald and clad in anachronistic black robes. They stood in somber silence, holding metal staves, which projected holographic signs objecting to humanity’s presence on Mars. Risa locked stares with a man about her age, gaunt and forlorn. He mouthed ‘why,’ as if she somehow had the answer to why civilization dared leave the sanctuary of Earth.

Shiro tugging on her arm drew her attention forward as they headed down the street among a crowd more tourist than local, and not in the direction of her hotel room. By the time they halted at a PubTran terminal, she fumed. He still hadn’t released his grip on her arm, as if she’d run off like a foolish child the instant he let go. Momentary worry distracted her from being pissed at him long enough to shift her coloration back to a tan Earth native with mousy brown hair. The effect of the CamNano spread over her body with a faint tingle.

“‘Perhaps he should have?’ What’s that supposed to mean?” She pulled on her arm. “Let go.”

“If Kree was about to walk off a bridge, would you let go of her hand?”

She narrowed her eyes. “I’m not a six-year-old.”

“No, but you’re as careless as one.”

Risa twisted her arm. “Ow. Come on. This isn’t funny or cute.”

A little silver and cyan taxi squealed to a halt in front of them, and opened its side hatch.

“I’m not trying to be cute.” He guided her into the car, closed the door, and released her arm. “I’d rather you’d be alive to resent me than have a dead woman in my heart.”

She rubbed her wrist, not quite able to lift her scowl to eye contact.

“Thank you for choosing PubTran. Please―”

“Sector 19 Commerce Quad.” Shiro swiped his NetMini before the auto attendant could speak again.

The car jolted forward.

Risa held the purse in her lap, knees together. “I’ve never been abducted before.”

He pressed two fingers into the ridge over his right eye. “Please stop being melodramatic.”

“Why did you come to Mars?” She fidgeted with the thin material over her legs. Her lack of armor left her feeling naked in a way a simple dress couldn’t cover.

“To offer my assistance to the Front. Your people have already benefitted from some new weapons. There are some in the command staff who agree with my opinion that it is better to focus efforts on one war at a time.”

“The General?” Risa laughed. “What ‘command staff?’ The MLF is about a hundred people.”

“You never bothered to look in your own network, did you?” Shiro grinned. “Maris is one of several commanders operating in self-contained cells. Your true numbers are closer to a thousand.”

She rolled her eyes, sending violet glare over the roof. “A thousand… still a drop in the bucket. Last I looked, the UCF had over 217,000 military personnel on Mars. The ACC about half again that.”

“Your numbers include all operational staff including office workers, mechanics, and medical teams. Front line combatants aren’t quite sixty percent of that number… and the ACC has bad equipment and even worse motivation. Most of their soldiers are defectors waiting for the right moment.”

“So what”―she grabbed the seat to keep from sliding on a hard left turn―“you’re saying is, the MLF helps kick the ACC off Mars, and then we do it all over again once the UCF owns it?”

“Bombs aren’t the only way to effect change.” He grasped a handle by the door as the PubTran car stopped short.

Risa looked out at a food court surrounded by storefronts, flooded with red and orange light from holographic signs. She pondered running, but decided to wait for him after getting out of the car. He can’t be right. Okay, my first time, I wanted to have sex before I got killed. With Pavo, it was so much more. Her mood imploded, burying her in a mountain of grief. None of it showed to the outside world, aside from a slumped, forlorn posture.

Shiro put an arm around her. Her body registered his touch, and his urging her to walk, and complied while her conscious mind analyzed every moment with Pavo, searching for any hint what they had was less than real. Her memory of his carrying her to the med center made the presence of another man’s hand on her back seem traitorous. She snapped out of her mental wandering and moved ahead.

Risa walked faster than his hand. “Where are we going?”

Shiro stopped by one of the food court tables, enamel white with attached,chairs. “This is fine.”

Risa eyed him with suspicion as she lowered herself into the hard, plastic seat. He’d chosen a table along the outside edge of the seating area, directly in front of a storefront bearing a sign reading “Sector Z.” Inside, an uncountable number of children raced about, occupied with numerous games and amusements. Near the back, little uncoordinated bodies in zero-g suits flew around a three-dimensional arena like teddy bears caught in a hurricane. As soon as she saw the place, she scowled at him.

“So you bring me to a kid-tainment place to… what? Make me feel guilty?”

Shiro sat across from her. His suit, his smile, his very presence seemed out of place among the middle-class mundanity surrounding them. “Risa, you already feel guilty. Some part of you thinks you could’ve done something different to keep that Voronin fellow alive. You regret what you’ve allowed Maris to do to your body. You wonder if Pavo would be okay if you didn’t go to Arden. You feel shame that you considered his life worth more than the farmers’ lives. Now, despite how much it tears you up inside to think about abandoning that little girl, you’re ready to run off to your death to get revenge against a faceless bureaucracy.”

“Mommy! Mommy! Look at the score I got!” A little boy’s scream lofted out of the chaos to her right.

She shrank in on herself.

“It’s not one person responsible for what happened to Pavo. You can’t kill the political machine.”

“Why?” Risa’s voice came out angry, though she could not hold back tears. “Why Pavo? He wasn’t important. He was just a soldier. Why would they target him?”

Shiro brushed his finger back and forth over his lips for a moment. “The only thing I can come up with is your relationship to him, and they wanted you off your game.”

Risa straightened. “I know C-Branch did it. The operator who almost killed me told me all about how the Front is a C-Branch operation for plausible deniability. What balls. I can’t believe he expected me to believe that. I mean, I can accept they might not be coming after us as hard as they could since we do sort of help them whenever we hit the ACC, but even if that were true, why would they want to attack me? It makes even less sense if we’re supposedly the same team.”

“You’ve been erratic lately.” He lowered his voice. “Openly talking about leaving the Front. After that stunt at Arden, they realized you could be a threat. C-Branch likes sharp swords. They don’t like swords that think for themselves.”

“Stunt?” She glared. “I had to stop them from murdering their own citizens.”

Shiro raised a pacifying hand. “Not ‘stunt you.’ I meant what they tried to pull.”

Risa gazed into the gloss white table, tinted violet from her eyes. “All I wanted to do was get away from the killing. I’m not a threat. I’ve lost the heart to wage a war that the people we’re fighting to free don’t even care about. Whenever we do anything, the media makes us out to be the bad guys.” She cringed as a wave of giggling came from the zero-g area. “I… don’t know what to believe anymore.”

Small children in suits with glowing rings around their wrists, ankles, and waists glided and flipped in a slow-motion midair dance, protected by a cube of transparent mesh netting and padded floor. It seemed to be some manner of electronic paintball game, but the kids were having too much fun flying around to fire their toy weapons at each other. Kree would love that… if I could get her outside without her having a panic attack.

“Looks like fun, doesn’t it?” Shiro smiled. “Pity those rigs only support up to ninety pounds.”

“What do you want, Shiro?” She spread her hands flat on the table. “Show me a bunch of normal children laughing and playing to remind me of everything they took away from me?”

“No, Risa. I’m showing you what you could have with Kree, or children of your own.” He put his hand on top of hers. “His death was tragic, but it’s no reason for you to give up.”

“Who is Shiro Murasame?” Risa stared at the back of his hand. “Why does he care so much about me? You seem to have a unique set of skills for an executive.”

Shiro grinned. “I grew up in West City. My mother is Japanese and my father half. We weren’t wealthy by any means, but I didn’t want for much. They couldn’t bear the cost of university, so I signed my soul over to the military. Graduated and went straight to active duty. Wound up volunteering for Special Operations school, managed to get through it, and spent a few years running around jungles and deserts.”

“Sounds like the same story I get from every guy.” She leaned back.

“How many of those grunts finished their tour and went back in-country to climb the rungs of private enterprise? I’m not rich, but I’ve got nothing to complain about.”

“You paid for my repairs.” She shied away. “Listen to me, I even sound like a machine.”

He squeezed her hand. “If you want to be technical about it, Starpoint paid for your medical care.”

Two small girls squealed as they ran hand in hand down the center of Sector Z and jumped in a simulator shaped like a stubby fighter plane. Kree hates the cute games. She’d probably love that one… it involves explosions. “Oh you forgot to mention the guilt over almost killing those kids.”

“That one I missed.” Shiro pulled her a little closer. “Do you want to talk about it?”

She stared into space, her voice lifeless. “We’d gotten intel that put one of the men responsible for my father’s death in a base the UCF was about to use as a staging area to launch an operation targeting Front assets. My mission was to set off a charge underground, causing a cave in to swallow the facility. I fixated on getting revenge so much I never checked the tunnels before I planted the explosive. On my way out, I found Kree and a bunch of others living down there.” Risa’s gaze fell to the table. “I almost didn’t make it in time.”

Shiro peeled her hand from the table, threading his fingers through hers as he rotated her arm palm up. “I’m glad they sent you for that. Most wouldn’t have gone back to stop it. You have a good heart, Risa Black. I wish you’d stop letting it torture you.”

She looked up as he leaned across the table, a mix of hope and affection in his eyes. Could I be one of those parents sitting there, watching them play, oblivious to the war?

“It was never supposed to happen. I had intended to keep our relationship strictly one of business. I never planned on falling for you, but I have.” His face drifted closer, his voice quiet. “Let me take you to Earth. Away from this war, away from the not knowing. You deserve more than this.”

Does he really care? She tried to read his eyes. He knew about Pavo. “The rebound never works. If I say yes, I won’t know if it’s true or if I’m just running away from my pain.” Risa drifted back as his lips closed in. “You don’t want me to resent you?”

“No.” He smiled, and sagged back in his seat. “I most certainly do not.”

“I can’t tell what I feel. I know he’s dead, but I still feel like I’m betraying him even being here with you now.” Both of them dragged me to a hospital. Both of them walked in on me naked. She tried to conceal a faint smile. Pavo twice. I didn’t feel nervous with him like I do with Shiro.

“I understand.” He bowed. “I am fortunate enough to have been spared the pain of losing someone I cared dearly for. I’ve lost squad mates in action, but such deaths are to be expected. I suppose I prepared myself for that before it happened. You need time.”

“Yeah. I need time.” She eyed the playing children. I might not have much.

Shiro stood. “May I escort you back to your hotel?”

My armor… “Sure. I’m sorry, I just―”

“Needing time is not a no. I’m the one who should apologize for moving too fast.” He offered his arm. “Forgive me. I saw you in pain and only wanted to help.”

She couldn’t bring herself to smile, but accepted his arm. “I don’t mean to come off ungrateful.”

“Say no more.” He walked with her towards a PubTran terminal. “Just promise me you won’t do anything rash.”

Risa looked up at the stars shining through the dome. Raziel, if you’ve got anything to say, I could really use some help right now. “I’ll try.”

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Daughter of Mars #84 | (Tempting Fate Part 3)

Daughter of Mars #74 (Blind Wish part 4)

Daughter of Mars #79 | (A Better Life Part 1)

Book Release | Prophet of the Badlands

After a long wait, Awakened #1 – The Prophet of the Badlands is out!

 

I am excited to announce that the first book in the Awakened series, Prophet of the Badlands is now available on Amazon. Here: http://amzn.com/B00WR8J6JE

For most twelve year olds, being kidnapped is terrifying. For Althea, it’s just Tuesday.

Her power to heal the wounded and cleanse the sick makes her a hunted commodity in the Badlands, a place devoid of technology where the strong write the law in blood. For as long as she can remember, they always come, they always take her, and she lets them. Passed around in an endless series of abductions, she obeys without question―mending those who killed to own her.

After three whole months in the same village, the affection of a young warrior makes her feel almost like a member of the tribe rather than a captive. Her brief joy shatters when raiders seize her yet again; for the first time in six years, being stolen hurts.

A reluctant escape sends her wandering, and she realizes her gift is a prize that causes as much death as it prevents. Her attempt to return to the tribe leaves her lost and alone, hounded at every turn. When a family who sees her not as the Prophet―but as a little girl―takes her in, she finds the courage to use her power to protect those she loves.

A strange man from a world beyond her imagining tests her newfound resolve, seeking to use her power to further his own agenda. Tired of being property, her freedom boils down to one question:

Can Althea balance the sanctity with which she holds all life against the miserable truth that some people deserve to die?

Enter Curiosity Quills’s Goodreads giveaway for a paperback copy here:https://www.goodreads.com/giveaway/show/132009-prophet-of-the-badlands

And please join me on Facebook tonight (4/27/15) at 7pm EST for an online release event with prizes:

https://www.facebook.com/events/815942265143115/

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Prophet of the Badlands

Release Date Updates

Division Zero FB Release Party

Daughter of Mars #84 | (Tempting Fate Part 3)

(Start from the beginning)

Risa couldn’t tell where his eyes aimed behind his sunglasses. Exposed fiberoptics in the wall tinted his pure white suit a phantasmal luminous blue.

“What are you doing here?” she whispered, covering invisible breasts with an invisible arm.

“I happened to be in the area and was worried about you.” He set a disposable cup on the ground by her right knee. “You look cold. I brought you some coffee.”

“This is not a good time,” she whispered.

“Because you’re out naked in public or because you’re up to something of questionable legality?” He gazed up and left.

Warmth spread over her cheeks. The first time she’d needed to use CamNano in the field, she’d been close to paralyzed with embarrassment. Eventually, blending into the surroundings felt like wearing body paint or skimpy clothes. She still couldn’t claim to be comfortable with it, much less like it. Her thoughts wandered to Kali. That one got a kick out of it in some twisted way. Hearing her go on about how much more of a thrill she got out of killing while she could feel her victim’s hot blood on her bare skin triggered a shiver. She had to be messing with me. She can’t be that nuts. Risa tucked the transmitter end of the fiber tap behind the pipe to hide it, and ran the lead to the bundle of optical wire. A little fiddling blended it in enough to where a casual glance, even from a tech, would more than likely miss it. The fragrance of hazelnut and chocolate wafting up from beside her traded places in the air with the foulness to her left.

“Please move that coffee.”

“So what are you doing in there?” Shiro stooped to pick the drink up. “I thought you liked coffee.”

Like a mad knitter, Risa used a pair of fine metal rods to peel apart the bundle and attach refractive sensors to each individual strand. “I do, but all I can smell right now is puke.”

“You can relax. No one is close or headed this way.” Shiro sipped his drink. “I’m shocked they sent you alone. A job like this really calls for a four person team.”

“Oh?” she clipped a tiny translucent clamp over a wire and paused to breathe.

“One to do what you’re doing. One to stand where I’m standing, and two working overwatch at opposite corners. You don’t exactly have the best vantage point.”

No, but you’ve got a great view. “Stop distracting me.”

“Alright.”

Three clamps later, she glanced up at him. “Just happened to be in the area? I don’t buy it.”

Shiro chuckled. “Guilty. I noticed your shuttle flight. Tracked your NetMini here.”

“Stalk much?” She got to work on the next pickup. “That’s only a little creepy.”

“Well, you did come to my city. I’d hoped you’d reconsidered my offer. When you didn’t show up at my door, I assumed you were here on business. You, eh, were not in the best state of mind when last we met.”

As if I’d be running right to his door. “Yeah. I’m sorry I ran off. There’s a lot on my mind right now.”

“Back in the fold, I see. Doing Maris’s bidding?”

“He’s going to help.” Another clamp closed. Sixteen more.

Shiro glanced down at her. “Help?”

“I’m going to find the people who killed Pavo, and make them regret it.” Her tool slipped, almost severing the strand. Shit. She bit her lip, trembling with anger and worry.

“Have you thought more about my offer?”

She sighed and hung her head. “I can’t change my mind.”

“What of your daughter?”

Risa cringed. “She’s not my daughter. She’s…” A child I almost killed. “She deserves better than me.”

“You are too critical of yourself.” He sipped coffee.

“It’s not just me. It’s this war. Mars. The MLF. Everything. She’s going to get hurt.” Twelve to go. Come on. I have to get out of here. Shaking hands slowed her down.

“I had a feeling you might feel that way. You know I have some pull back on Earth. If you want, I can arrange for the girl to be bumped to the top of the adoption queue. Excellent families with plenty to offer her in terms of safety and security.”

A tear gathered in the corner of her eye, clung for a second, and ran down her cheek. Weight settled on her heart. She’d be better off. Keeping her is selfish. “I…”

“You’ve grown attached.” Shiro smiled. “My other offer is still on the table. You’re only a risk to her if you remain on Mars.”

She stared at the pale blue light, wondering if she could ever let go of Pavo. The more she considered taking Kree and going to Earth, the more ashamed she felt. Pavo deserves revenge. Kree―

“Risa?” The image of General Maris appeared in a virtual holo-panel, courtesy of her implanted communicator.

“Almost done.” Her thoughts became voice over the wire.

General Maris nodded. “Good. So far, my contacts have been unable to find any information about the team who abducted Pavo. We’re drawing a blank with C-Branch, with Corporate, and with Syndicate intel. Whoever did it is dug in deep.”

Risa’s heart sank. She glanced up at Shiro. “Maybe…”

“There is a high priority target we’ve recently become aware of.” General Maris’s bust shrank to make room for a map. “I realize you’ve been having a crisis of conscience in regards to explosives, however this target is free of any risk of human casualty. We need to disable a trans-canyon pipeline deep in ACC territory. No one else is brave enough to attempt this one.”

You mean suicidal. Risa set the last clip in place and let her arms drop to her lap. “Sounds dangerous.”

Maris looked down. “You’re the only one we have with a chance of pulling this off.”

“You can get Kree to Earth, make sure she’s safe?” Risa asked, aloud.

“I can.” Shiro looked at her, pulling his sunglasses down from his eyes. “I don’t like that tone in your voice.”

She locked eyes with Maris’s hologram. If his people can’t find any information, what could I possibly do? I guess they win. “Okay. I’ll do it.” She ignored the warm splatter of tears on her thighs. “Maybe I’ll find Pavo on the other side.”

“Risa…” Maris widened his eyes. “I am not sending you there to die. If you go in with that mindset, you won’t come back.”

“I guess I’ll have to play it by ear.” Risa lifted the panel cover back in place, squeezing it into the rubber seal. “Tap should be active now.”

General Maris waved at someone to the side. “We are getting a signal. Excellent work. I’ll discuss the particulars when you return.”

Risa kept quiet as she rushed through replacing the twenty-seven screws. Every third or fourth one, she paused to wipe tears off her cheeks. I’m going to die sooner or later. Kree doesn’t need to suffer that.

“I got a thing. Promise me you’ll send Kree to Earth if I don’t come back.” I bet he’s only being nice to her to get to me.

Shiro’s head whipped around to face her. He set her untouched coffee atop a relay box mounted to the wall. “Come back from what?”

“Maris wants me to do something else.” She tried to force the daydream image of Pavo holding Kree out of her mind. “Good chance I won’t make it.”

“No.” Shiro grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet. “I can’t let you do it.”

Her skin blurred as if she were made of gleaming blue plastisteel; she appeared separate from the background as a nude outline for three seconds until the CamNano compensated for the rapid motion. Risa gawked at the hand clamped around her right bicep, and the frightened, possessive look in Shiro’s eyes.

“Let me?” She pulled on her arm. “Ow, you’re hurting me. You’re also risking my mission.”

“Come with me to Earth. Leave this behind.” He grasped her other arm and relaxed the tightness of his grip on both. “Bring your child. Allow yourself to live.”

The way he held her forced her on tiptoe. She wriggled, trying to back up. Stepping on a screw made her bite back a yelp.

“You don’t understand. This is about more than just―”

Shiro swung her to the side, putting her back against the cold metal wall. He embraced her, burying his face in the crook of her neck and whispering, “Turn your camo off. Quick. Trust me.”

With no time to consider, she went with his instinct. Millions of nanobots neutralized the dyes in her skin cells, leaving her milky white and quite exposed in public. Shiro ran his hands up and down her back, kissing the side of her neck. Three seconds after the change completed, a pair of MDF officers emerged from the alley where she’d stashed her purse and stopped short at the sight of them. Risa let off a soft moan as she writhed in his arms.

“Hey, you two…” said a woman’s voice. “Knock it off. This is a public space.”

Shiro twisted to look at them, still pressed tight against her. “Sorry. We were on the way back to our hotel and things got a little out of hand.” He shrugged off his suit jacket and wrapped it around her.

“Let’s see some ID.” The other officer raised his forearm, glancing at a small terminal pane.

“Of course.” Shiro faced them, produced his NetMini, and held it out.

The police exchanged glances when his information popped up. “Our apologies Mr. Murasame. Please take it out of the public eye.”

“Of course. Thank you for your discretion.” Shiro bowed at them.

Risa gathered his coat to her chest, trying to push herself against the wall hard enough to go through it. She stared at the pair of figures in MDF armor until they got out of earshot. “What was that?”

“This may be the UCF, but being an executive has its perks.” He winked.

Risa counted the little metal bits in front of her toes. “Four screws left. I gotta put them back, or it’ll get noticed.”

“Be quick. You have about forty seconds before someone looks.”

She dropped to her knees, grabbed the tiny, motorized driver, and replaced the last of the screws with no regard for subtlety. After stuffing the tools back in the nylon pouch, she rolled it up and grabbed the empty cube. How the hell did the MDF not notice this? She blushed. The guy was staring at my tits, the woman was ogling Shiro. He grasped her by the arm, snagged her cup, and dragged her to the alley. Risa’s heart pounded in her head when he led her straight back to the spot where she’d stashed her purse.

“Get dressed.”

She glared at him with a mixture of indignation and confusion. “If you think ordering me around is going to get you anywhere, you don’t know me as much as you think you do.”

Shiro held his hands up. “Fine. Stay naked. Next thing you know you’ll want cat ears and a tail. You’ve already got the claws.”

“Reverse psychology now?” She whirled away to hide her blush, and stooped to grab her stuff from under the trash unit. “You must’ve confused me with some helpless little girl that’s in desperate need of a father figure to make all the hard decisions she’s incapable of.” Maybe ten years ago.

“I do not think you are helpless, just foolish.” He stood with his back to her, a human barrier at the end of the gap between trash compressors.

Risa couldn’t decide if she felt trapped or protected as she pulled the grey shift on as fast as she could without falling over. After smoothing it flat, she stepped into her shoes. “Look, I don’t need a protector. I can take care of myself.”

He moved away from the gap and handed her the coffee. “Who is going to protect you from your own bad choices? You’re letting his death get to you.”

She walked past him. “You couldn’t understand.”

“Understand what? That you’re being reckless taking a suicide mission because you’re emotional over a man you only knew for a few months?”

“What?” She gasped and spun on him. “You think what Pavo and I had meant less because it didn’t take years?”

“You’re jumping to the worst case scenario again.” He peered over his sunglasses at her. “You are both in high-stress lives where death is a few steps behind you. It’s common among military personnel in combat zones. Tell me you didn’t have an ‘I have to tell him how I feel before one of us dies’ moment?”

Risa recoiled, glaring at the ground. She had to concentrate to keep her voice even. “Stop.”

“War forges strong ties among soldiers.” He drew close behind her. “All I’m suggesting is that you might have rushed into a relationship with him without realizing what motivated it. I’m asking you not to do anything reckless until you’ve had time to grieve.”

No. I love Pavo. It wasn’t like that at all. He made me want to get away from all of this. “It’s not that simple. It wasn’t… When I first saw him, I couldn’t stand him.”

“Well, that makes me feel better about my chances.” Shiro’s hand encircled her left wrist. “I want to show you something.”

Risa frowned at his grip for a few seconds, and shot him a dirty look.

“Now that is a ‘let go or lose your hand’ face if I’ve ever seen one.” He held on. “If you are that afraid of what I want you to see, go right ahead.”

Claws sprang out. She splayed her fingers, keeping her glare on his eyes.

“You’re bluffing. Guilt and curiosity won’t let you.” He took a step, tugging on her arm. “Please, indulge me.”

“Even my own father didn’t drag me around by the wrist.” He knows I feel bad he spent all that money on me. She retracted her claws and fell in step at his side.

Shiro raised his eyebrows. “Perhaps he should have.”

Related posts:


Daughter of Mars #82 | (Tempting Fate Part 1)

Daughter of Mars #83 | (Tempting Fate Part 2)

Daughter of Mars #78 | (Breaking Eggs Part 2)

Daughter of Mars #83 | (Tempting Fate Part 2)

(Start from the beginning)

Risa stared at a blurry patch of color upon the metal box in her hand. Brushed plastisteel didn’t make for much of a mirror, her reflection little more than random smears of beige and sparkling violet. Why am I putting this off? She tucked the tool pouch and her NetMini in her purse and took out a pair of cheap cloth shoes with plastic soles. They weren’t comfortable, but it beat going outside barefoot.

With her bag over one shoulder and the box under her other arm, Risa left the hotel room and made her way outside. A clerk at the front desk offered a polite nod as she passed. The bustle outside the hotel had only increased since she’d arrived. Two street musicians worked opposite ends of the courtyard between the building and the street. The man on the right paraded around, wearing a dozen different electronic instruments bedecked with flashing holograms and multicolored fiberoptic threads. His rival, seated like a monk, flailed at a stationary rig of round, hovering platforms. Far enough to one side or the other existed music, though a disharmonic mash of sound raged at the point where their reach overlapped.

Her nondescript grey dress and brown hair attracted little notice as she darted through the spectators and turned right at the bottom of a short staircase. Five manual taxis lurked on the street; three men and two women flashed eager smiles at her, which melted to grumbles when she walked right past them. Dire stares from the drivers relaxed to bored disregard when she also bypassed the PubTran terminal and kept going on foot.

A thin trail of yellow light guided her down the street. The visual artifact created by her cybernetic eyes passed under the glare of numerous holographic signs. All the shops within walking distance of Arcadia Estates were undoubtedly overpriced, even the restaurants. Risa kept her purse pressed to her side with her elbow, hand on the strap. The downside of looking like a visitor was wearing a sign begging to be taken advantage of. Not that she worried about a pack of gangers, at least not now that her ‘ware was online. She feared attention, anything that could draw notice to her being in the area around the time of a splice.

She passed through a cloud of fragrant steam rolling from the counter of a chicken booth. All manner of spices danced through her nostrils, every ethnic flavor combination one could ask for―or at least what some computer thought came closest. Scenes of Earth appeared on a massive holographic panel about four portly chefs in bright red Chinese tunics. She paused, mesmerized by the sight of trees, lakes, and grey mountains. A golden statue of Buddha appeared, followed by a scene of a city bedecked with minarets. Next came a forest with a cluster of blonde women, their hair in long pigtails, their dresses anachronistic.

I never thought of Earth as beautiful. She grumbled and looked away. What’s the point of visiting Mars to be reminded of Earth? Is it possible to be homesick as a species?

After walking for another four blocks, she hooked a left and followed a narrower street flooded with dark blue light. A few cyber-junkies lingered in the shadow of a shiny, teal pyramid above a door. The word ‘Míngtiān’ scrolled in a graceful arc over it, alternating with Chinese symbols. Artificial limbs, implanted blades, furry tails, and other cybernetic parts perched on stark white pedestals and clear stands inside.

Risa smiled to herself as some of the young people loitering there made fun of her for being a ‘norm.’ They couldn’t see the millions of credits of parts inside her; a chintzy 30,000 credit metal arm or a visible street-graft on the side of the head impressed them more. She resisted the temptation to flash her eyes at them; as satisfying as that would be, she could not risk standing out in anyone’s memory.

The Arcadia Exchange lay ahead. Financial and corporate skyscrapers circled a wide-open piazza divided into three tiers. Artificial plants adorned elevated platforms at the northwest and southeast corner. Aside from flower-lined walkways, benches and small fountains dominated the ground level, where the workaday types often came for lunch. Four stairways to the lower level glowed with flickering pastel colors from no less than forty tiny restaurants and a few bars. With Arcadia time edging on ten p.m., most of the activity gravitated to the areas below.

Acting the tourist again, Risa wandered the edges of the half-mile opening in the city. Much to her surprise, most of the flowers along the walkpaths were real. A glance up at the dark gem-like dome made her feel like an outsider. Life above ground offered space and beauty. She felt like an unwanted trespasser, as if Martian society pushed her underground, out of sight, away from their attempt to mimic Earth.

I’m being melodramatic. At the westernmost wall of the courtyard, a patch of bare plastisteel wall full of wire conduits and utility boxes caught her eye. There’s my baby. Risa diverted for the closest alley, about thirty yards to the right, working in a few ‘tourist gazing around’ spins to make sure no one watched her. She lingered at the corner for a moment, observing three visible MDF officers on patrol. When none of them faced in her direction, she slipped into the alley and backed out of sight.

Risa crouched in a gap between two refuse compressors and frowned. Last chance to change your mind. “Oh, Hell.”

She grumbled as she slipped out of the dress and shoes, which she stuffed in her purse in exchange for the tool pouch. Thankfully, Arcadia City didn’t simulate seasons. All year round, they kept it at a pleasant seventy degrees. Still, a bit chilly for traipsing about nude, but if everything went well, she wouldn’t be long.

After secreting her purse under one of the refuse machines, Risa stood with her back against the wall and activated her CamNano. Silvery metal coloration spread through her skin and hair. Within forty seconds, she’d become as close to invisible as one could get. She retrieved the cube and tools, holding them against the wall to disguise the apparently floating objects as much as possible while edging at a snail’s pace out of the alley to the square. Not that it helped; the CamNano recreated the items on her stomach, as if she were transparent.

Without a time constraint on the operation, she favored stealth at the expense of speed. Despite the relative warmth of the air, the chilly plastisteel ground numbed her toes before she arrived at her target twenty minutes later. Slow, controlled movements kept her invisible as she turned her back to the populated courtyard and knelt before a six-inch plastisteel tube. She shimmied to the left, where an armored panel offered access to the fiberoptic lines within.

A flick of the eyes through her command menu set the CamNano’s control software to record the wall in front of her for ten minutes. She pulled her hair in front of herself so her back could act like a terminal monitor, displaying an image of an unmolested wall while she worked. After setting the recorded image to loop playback, she unrolled the toolkit and proceeded to work the first of twenty-six screws out of the pipe housing.

People more than thirty feet away had little chance of noticing her as long as she kept her motions slow and short. Whenever voices or footsteps drew close, she froze. Only a technician would have any reason to get as close to this part of the wall as she was. If anyone did approach too close, they could see around her to the hole in the pipe. Having no idea what to use as an excuse for getting caught here, she worked as fast as her nerves would allow.

When the last screw came loose, she dug her fingernails around the eight-by-ten inch plastisteel plate and lifted it away. Careful not to make a sound, she set it against the wall below the bright cobalt-blue glow emanating from the opening. The image processor in her head compensated, adding a similar highlight to the false image of an unopened wall on her back to avoid a woman-shaped outline of ‘non-glow’.

She had memorized her target, AC4F-088D. Inch diameter cables bundled together inside a massive cable shroud. Within the access point she’d opened, they separated to allow the smaller wires to spread apart through a plastic separator where black bands bore barcodes identifying each one. Inside every sub-wire lay hundreds of fiberoptic strands half a millimeter thick. Floating translations appeared below each barcode, courtesy of her electronic eyes. Her gaze ran up and down the strands until she found the one she wanted, and a surgical Nano claw split the insulation.

As soon as she grabbed the cube, footsteps approached. Risa stopped breathing as a quartet of drunken suits walked by. Three women and a man, all with their arms over each other’s shoulders and laughing as if they’d heard the funniest joke ever told. Fear and a cold breeze on her bare bottom conspired to make her shiver. They’re coming over here to throw up where no one will care. Shit.

She remained motionless as an inebriated woman collapsed against the wall ten feet to her left. At that angle, the open conduit was as obvious as the sun, but the drunken office worker remained too focused on what wanted out of her gut. Risa reduced her breathing to shallow sips of air as the sound of vomiting nauseated her. Each splatter sounded a siren call to the contents of her own stomach, trying to lure it out. When the smell washed over her, a sour mixture of steak, whiskey, and fruity alcohol, Risa risked moving to cover her mouth.

The woman’s companions helped her up.

“Wait, I gotta pee,” said the woman.

“Not here.” The man pulled her upright. “Too many people with too many cameras.”

The other two women laughed almost to the point of falling over.

“But―” The woman who’d vomited grabbed at her expensive-looking skirt suit, hiking it up.

“No. The hotel is a two minute walk, you can wait.” The man pulled her away.

Risa exhaled.

When the sounds of their ungainly stumble faded, she opened the box and tugged the fiber tap out of the protective foam. A delicate wire strand dangled from a three-inch box, tipped with a mass of tiny photosensitive clamps.

“That was close,” said Shiro.

Risa’s heart stopped for a half second. By some miracle, she didn’t drop the cube.

He moved closer, turned, and leaned his back against the wall, standing within arm’s reach of her right side.

Shiro! She had to bite her lip to keep from screaming. Oh, God… I’m naked.

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Daughter of Mars #82 | (Tempting Fate Part 1)

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Daughter of Mars #76 | A Plea in Darkness part 2

Daughter of Mars #82 | (Tempting Fate Part 1)

(Start from the Beginning)

Araphel – Chapter 6 – Tempting Fate

Risa kept her head down, posed as if paying attention to the animated spacemen on the datapad mounted to the shuttle seat in front of her. The video presented a tourist’s first introduction to Mars, though she’d muted the sound as soon as it started. CamNano cyberware had changed her hair a soft brown, and added an Earthling’s tan to her skin. She bristled at the futility of it. As much as she tried to act like a tourist, anyone who got a good look at her face would recognize her eyes. There’s gotta be less than forty people on Mars with this model, and I’m sure most are men. She adjusted her spur-of-the-moment sunglasses, though lenses dark enough to hide the violet glow would leave her unable to see.

Yeah, sunglasses on Mars don’t look suspicious at all. She glanced at the window as a man shuffled down the aisle past her seat. Why is it always the ‘easy’ jobs that scare me the most?

Maris’s ‘easy job’ entailed tapping a fiber splice in Arcadia City. The mention of ‘fiber splice’ brought back a trace of adrenaline at the memory of her escort run with Tamashī. Getting to a fiber main and rigging a listener was as simple as missions could come. Without an active deck jockey going into a network to stir up trouble, it was nigh undetectable. There’s always a complication. Maris wanted her to tap a junction box in the corner of a public square. Not even underground. On the surface. Out in the open.

“Think you can do it?” he’d asked.

She hadn’t cared much this time. No one would die, and Maris seemed willing to help her get some payback for Pavo. If she got arrested, oh well… Kree deserves better.

The flight from Elysium took her over the sparsely settled plain of Utopia before crossing Panchaia as they skirted the North Pole. Her left-side seat offered a view of the distant polar ice cap, a shimmery glow of reflected sunlight along the horizon. The tourist panel beeped when they entered airspace over Scandia, where the UCF had gathered most of their mining efforts. She frowned at screen after screen of beaming, happy colonists posed by digging equipment, living in pristine residence pods, or standing outside in the ‘breathable engineered atmosphere.’

Turbulence rattled the shuttle, an effect of the dense terraforming employed in the region around Arcadia. She dropped the datapad in its holder and waited for landing. Thirty-nine minutes after takeoff, the shuttle touched down at the commercial starport. After a preparatory breath, she sprang from her seat, acting the tourist, and jostled with the crowd on her way down the boarding tunnel. For good measure, she played with a glowing plasfilm pamphlet displaying a map of the city, highlighting popular visitor attractions.

She got in line at the security checkpoint waiting for passengers ahead of her to shuffle in single file through a scanner station. When her turn came, she walked along a dim grey tunnel with glowing blue walls. At the far end, she stopped by a desk where a young man in a drab crimson MDF jumpsuit stood behind a terminal. A black buzz-cut reminded her of Pavo, his hair little more than a stain on his lily-white scalp. Private rank insignia adorned his shoulders and chest next to the name “Umbris, T” stitched in black thread.

“Welcome to Arcadia, Miss Somers.”

“Oh, you can call me Lauren.” Risa giggled. “Thanks, it’s my first time.”

He looked at her and cocked an eyebrow. “Nishihama Oracles. Odd choice for an archaeology student. Usually only see those on military personnel with a couple of years in.”

She waved her hand about in a random, flopping manner. “Oh, eyes that look like eyes are so lame. I mean, what’s the point of getting cybernetics if you just look like everyone normal. I figured if I was born blind I might as well make the most of it.”

Private Umbris chuckled. “Name’s Tyg. It sounds like fridge, but I’m not cold.”

“Cute name.” She smiled and clenched her jaw. Damn these eyes.

Tyg looked left and right before leaning over the counter and whispering. “I don’t want to scare you, Miss. You should be careful. We’re looking for a terrorist about your age and build with the same model cybernetic eyes.”

“How awful.” She covered her mouth with one hand. This kid is either oblivious or he’s trying to warn me.

“Did you bring any fruits, vegetables, or other biological material from Earth?” Tyg poked a few buttons on his holo terminal.

“Do I have to go through this again? I had to answer all these questions at Elysium when I landed two days ago.”

“Sorry.” He shrugged.

“No. I didn’t even bring luggage since RedLink loses it every damn time. Daddy’s got me an apartment and I’m just going to have ‘Mars clothes’ and leave them here when I go home on break.”

“Yeah, sometimes I think the baggage bots are possessed and pack things at random.” He swiped his hand through the screen, and raised an eyebrow. “Those claws of yours work on rock?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” She pulled her long coat tight around her chest. “I got them for self-defense. I hear there’s a personal security problem on Mars for young women. Too many gangs, not enough police. If someone jumps me, I’m going to be holding something dear to them in my hand before I die.”

Every man in the line behind her―and Tyg―cringed.

“Arcadia City isn’t like the sub-Ts. There’s plenty of us out there, Miss Somers. Though, there are some more dangerous areas, but something tells me you’re not the type of woman to go wandering around the southeast sectors.”

“Oh, if it’s a bad area… no. I’d be too scared.” Risa shivered. “I’m not looking for trouble, but if it finds me I’m… probably going to scream like a little girl anyway.”

Tyg waved her through. “Have a nice stay and good luck with your classes.”

Her vapid smile fell flat once he couldn’t see her face anymore. If that kid ever realizes who I am he’s going to kick himself. Free of the security zone, she navigated the public areas of the terminal on her way to the tram leading to the city. After ten minutes of standing around on a platform, a blast of wind preceded the arrival of a small maglev tram. Four cylindrical cars, like huge synthbeer canisters joined end to end, slipped in with little more noise than a soft pneumatic foomp as it exited the tunnel. She boarded the nearest car and sat in the first seat she could reach.

A moment later, the motion bob of the accelerating tram lifted her gaze. Four rows ahead and on the other side of the aisle, a thin tween girl with a platinum blonde bob stared at her. Deep, sapphire blue eyes fixed on Risa, and a trace of a smile formed. The girl’s peach-colored, long-sleeved top clung to her flat chest, revealing the contour of every rib. Numerous small rips marred her black leggings, stretched thin over her knees. Embedded lights flashed in the soles of her pink Gee-90 sneakers, which appeared brand new. Dirt on the rest of her hinted at street waif, though her eerie, purposeful stare was anything but pleading.

Risa couldn’t help but stare. The girl’s disconcerting smile broadened as she raised a hand and waved with her fingers. She was too far away to speak to without shouting, though Risa felt the need to return the wave.

Despite the distance, the girl whispered, “See you soon.”

A thick-armed man in a business suit of iridescent blue shuffled down the aisle. In the split second he blocked her view, the girl vanished. Risa prairie-dogged up in her seat, looking from one end of the car to the other. No trace of the kid remained, nor did anyone seem to be reacting to someone moving. She gripped a handle on the seatback in front of her, and pulled herself upright. After another glance around, she crept down the aisle to the seat where the girl had been.

Her eyes’ thermal mode revealed a small red blob on the cushion of the aisle seat, about the size of where a child that big would’ve been sitting. Risa stepped past it and fell into the next open space, in case she had somehow just gone invisible.

Not in half a second. Optical cloaking doesn’t work through clothes… and no one installs that in children anyway. She debated if she’d really been able to hear the girl whisper from four rows away, or if she’d finally reached the point where her mind cracked. Hallucination was a tempting through, but hallucinations don’t leave heat imprints. A fact she confirmed with a hand on the cushion.

“I’m losing it.”

Risa remained there, gaze locked on her lap, until the tram passed through the city dome and came to a stop at a platform. She hesitated at the door, ignoring the people pushing past her, and stared at the seat. Was that a ghost? Seeing nothing appear, she joined the throng of people and followed them through the main terminal to the exit where dozens of PubTran taxi terminals lined the street at the bottom of a moving stairway. After riding it to the street level, she poked a call button and waited a few minutes until a boxy teal and grey car squeaked to a halt in front of her. The side door opened to reveal two facing seats, covered by thin grey cloth bearing a repeating pattern of teal squares. She ducked the awning-like door and settled down amid the eye-watering strong smell of artificial pine.

She knocked on the hard plastic. “Why do they even bother putting fabric on these seats?”

“Thank you for choosing PubTran. Please state your destination,” said a placid male voice.

“Sector 37 please. Arcadia Estates.”

“Your destination fee is twenty one credits. Your chosen location is not listed as high risk of a violence event. Please wave your NetMini past the terminal for account identification or insert credit stick with balance sufficient.”

Risa fished the device out and waved it past a console in the center of the left wall. The car emitted a pleased chirp, closed the door, and pulled out into traffic with a jerky left-right swerve that forced her to grab the walls. The strange child haunted her thoughts as the little box-on-wheels drove for fourteen minutes. A sudden stop under the awning of a smoky grey skyscraper modeled in the shape of a chunk of volcanic glass startled her back to reality. Holographic gold letters floated over the door, identifying it as the Arcadia Estates Hotel.

“Thank you for choosing PubTran for your transportation needs.” The door hissed open. “We have arrived at your destination.”

She ducked out of the cab and hurried through the doors to the elevator. Maris had already arranged her room on the third floor. The young man and woman behind the counter offered her pleasant smiles, but did not speak. After a brief elevator ride, she checked a note file on her NetMini to verify the room number. A red square on the wall next to 3-8 turned green when she approached, and opened at a wave of her hand.

The everpresent clock in the corner of her vision read 20:14 [Arcadia]. Crossing the pole had shifted time forward almost twelve hours, but she’d arrived almost thirty minutes ahead of schedule. Risa set the medium sized purse on the cabinet by the holo-bar, peeled off her long coat, and draped it over a chair. She squatted to undo the fasteners on her boots and stepped out of them. The cool, textured rug felt like walking on a foot massage as she crossed to the window to close the silver, vertical blinds.

With the room dark, she slipped out of her armored bodysuit and bundled it up. Between a pair of twin beds, a courtesy safe presented the perfect place to store a million credits worth of body armor. If something goes wrong, I hope Maris will send someone to grab this.

The rubbery material, thick gel sandwiched between the outer layers, squished between her fingers as she kneaded it as compact as possible. It still mystified her how it could harden upon the impact of a bullet fast enough to catch it. Since she’d gotten the ballistic stealth suit, it had become her second skin. Garrison was right. This is my security blanket. She tucked it in the small, armored space and pushed the door closed. A yellow display panel popped up.

Text appeared on the screen: “Swipe NetMini or ImDent to lock. Service fee: 5 credits.”

“Dammit.”

She jogged to the counter to grab the ‘mini, using it to place an order for a cheap black shift dress she wouldn’t care about losing on her way back to the safe. With that done, and the safe secured, she left the ‘mini on the nightstand and curled up on her side atop the bed. Being naked in a hotel room made her think of Pavo. The bathroom door faced the foot of her bed, partially obscuring an autoshower tube. This room has the same layout. She wiped her eyes, laughing as she cried. I guess they all do. Cheaper that way.

Safe behind a locked door, she finally allowed herself to feel his loss. After gathering a pillow to her chest, she buried her face in it and bawled. As a child, she hadn’t cried over her father’s death. Witnessing him die had surrounded the entire event in too much terror. She had gone beyond sad to shell-shocked. By the time the fear wore off, anger had devoured any sadness.

Her mourning lessened the third time her NetMini emitted a shrill alarm-klaxon noise. She rolled onto her back, sniffling. Flashing lights leaked through the gaps in the vertical blinds. Something metal tapped on glass.

“Oh, shit.”

She ran to the patio door to accept the delivery bot. No sooner had she opened the glass and seen the hovering robot did she remember Pavo’s comment about hackers skimming them for nudie images. Blubbering like an idiot, she snatched her goods from the open chamber and backed into the room.

The rectangular flying box tilted to the side, mimicking a dog concerned for its master.

Holo panels erupted around it offering everything from contacting the MDF to suicide prevention lines, grief counselors, rape advocates, and two thinly disguised hit men.

“I’m fine, thanks.” She shut the door.

She tossed the packaged dress on the untouched bed and flopped face down over her crying pillow. The scratchy fabric on her skin and the faint scent of hotel air freshener all took her back to the last time Pavo had touched her. A daydream of him behind her, squeezing her wrists, pushing her face into the mattress with each thrust, left her breathing heavy. He hadn’t been her first lover, but he was the only one she could remember with total clarity. Was I seventeen or sixteen? What the hell was his name?

Angry ‘I’m gonna die at any minute’ Risa wanted to experience sex before she bought the farm, and the safehouse had no shortage of men. Finding one willing to risk screwing the girl who was essentially Garrison’s daughter had been more of a challenge.

I never thought I’d live long enough to love. She curled in a tight ball with the pillow trapped between her thighs and chest and cried until she couldn’t shed another tear.

“Raziel, why did you let him die?” Risa rolled flat on her back, clutching the damp pillow to her chest. “You told me to trust him. Why didn’t you help?”

Silence.

The time display flicking from one number to the next attracted her notice to 20:44. Almost time. She pushed the pillow aside and rolled off the bed to her feet, heading for the bathroom. Automatic lights saturated white tiles with a blinding glow. The electric floor warmed in seconds. Risa leaned her hands on either side of the sink and stared at herself in the mirror until her despair at losing Pavo fermented to anger at those responsible.

One minute later, a chime emanated from the panel by the door, followed by an automated female voice. “Room service.”

“Coming.” She jogged to the untouched bed, tore open the plastic package and pulled the dress on over her head, still tugging it into place when she hit the button to open the door.

A sleepy looking teenaged boy in a sharp red suit bearing the Arcadia Estates logo on the breast pocket gave her a head-to-toe look. He gestured at a pushcart, which he wheeled in when she backed up. After leaving it in the room, he hurried out before she could lay a hand on her NetMini to offer a tip.

Risa glanced at the small plastic-covered plate bearing an ordinary turkey sandwich. Steam and melted cheese gave away that it had been heated. She squatted and pulled the tablecloth up, to check the lower shelf, finding a large plastic bin full of combination salt/pepper packets. She rummaged through the confetti, and smiled when her fingers made contact with cool metal. A six-inch cube lay buried inside along with a flexible mesh pouch of tools. She dug them out, brushed a fine dusting of pepper from the top, and opened the case.

Inside a copious amount of foam padding, lay the fiber tap.

“Nothing’s ever run this smooth.” She snapped the box closed, resisting the urge to sneeze. “This job is going to go wrong in the most spectacular way possible.”

Related posts:


Daughter of Mars #74 (Blind Wish part 4)

Daughter of Mars #81 | (A Better Life Part 3)

Daughter of Mars #80 | (A Better Life Part 2)

My Interview with Joe C from Cyberpunk Detective Cafe

Greetings all! Tonight, I had the privilege to be interviewed by Joseph Cautilli from the Cyberpunk Detective Cafe ( https://www.facebook.com/groups/36186... ) Here is a transcript of the interview for those who don’t want to join the group. (Edited some typos because I had to. Couldn’t bear to look at them.)

Joseph Cautilli: Hi Matthew- before we start talking about your book, I want to take a moment to ask you about two issues that we have been discussing on this list. The first is of course, the issue of partnering with YouTube- making a chapter of the book available to get a larger readership. What are your thoughts?

MC:  I must’ve somehow missed that. Like recording a video of reading the first chapter and posting it on YouTube? Seems like an interesting idea. I mean, the first chapter is free to read on amazon already so…

MC:  Or are you thinking of a text scroll or changing panels of text like song lyrics?

JC: Yes, they are. The idea is that YouTube get sponsors a pays you. Anyhow that brings us to the second topic. Many small groups of authors are now pooling together to create group worlds. Weird apoc is one such group. What are your feelings on group worlds?

MC:  Similar to collaborative writing. Seems like it could work if everyone’s into it

MC:  Reminds me of the short stories I’ve done for James Wymore’s actuator anthologies. A lot of authors writing stories all set in the same world, but it’s wide open for different interpretations.

JC: Yes, it seems that amazon has its own group doing it, as well The idea is that group characters give more exposure to the fan base and people start to love the characters regardless of the writer- sort of what the comics do…For those arriving late, we are here with distinguished author Matthew Cox  to talk about his book Division Zero. Mathew can you give us a teaser about what the book is about?

MC:  The book tells the story of Agent Kirsten Wren, who is an officer with the psionic arm of the National Police Force known as Division Zero. Kirsten was born with a power known as astral sense, which allows her to perceive and interact with the world of ghosts and other paranormal entities. She also has a weak-to-moderate rating in another ability referred to as ‘mind blast’, which is feared even among other psionics. The combination of both abilities in one person has given her a unique talent (the astral lash), which, unlike most Astral Sensates, allows her to attack spirits when they leave only violence as an option. In this book, a case falls on her lap where androids known as dolls have begun to malfunction for no reason the normal authorities can determine. After several deaths, and with no reasonable explanation for what is going on, they kick the case to her to investigate a possible paranormal angle.

MC:  It’s running on multiple levels. On one level, there’s a “police procedural” going on… but on another level, the story is about Kirsten’s evolution.

MC:  I tried not to club the reader over the head with the tech/cyberpunk/sci fi aspects of it – using the world as a backdrop for the story rather than forcing the technology to BE the story.

JC: Can you provide us with a link to the book?

MC:  sure  – links

Division Zero http://amzn.com/B00ITWTRZ0

Lex De Mortuis (part 2) http://amzn.com/B00NE7E04I

Thrall (Part 3) http://amzn.com/B00VEFD2A0

JC: At the outset, I want to say how much I enjoy the visuals in your book. Each chapter begins with a bath of images. Do you have a theory or a guiding principle around your use of color in writing- especially your presentation of neons and greens?

MC:  When I’m writing, I tend to visualize the scene in my head like a movie. My goal is to transport the reader into a scene and let them be there with the character. I try to find a nice balance, hitting all five senses when possible. Sometimes, the tone of a scene just ‘feels’ like a certain color. The strongest example that comes to head unfortunately isn’t in D0, it’s in Virtual Immortality – the laundromat scene. I saw it saturated in green. Of course, I wasn’t trying to invoke ‘envy’ or anything with it… nothing that deep. It just felt green.

JC: Your definitely hit a lot of great visual effects in the book and they drew a lot of emotions. What would you say is the general emotional color theme of the beginning of the book?

MC:  One thing I do in everything I write, from novels to short stories – is for the first word in the piece to be symbolic to the character. The first word of Division Zero is ‘Adrift’, which is very much where Kirsten is when the story starts… she’s adrift… In a society that is terrified of her, alone, wondering why her own mother hated her so much. The opening mood is one of loneliness and isolation.

JC: Which brings us to Kirsten- The book deals with a psionic characters. Can you tell us what inspired you to explore this view of the mind?

MC:  The setting for Division Zero is based on a world I’ve spent the past twenty some odd years developing. Initially, I created it as a backdrop for a science fiction roleplaying game. From the start I’ve always been fascinated by psychic abilities in fiction, and they felt like they added a level of uniqueness to the setting. I wrote Division Zero after Virtual Immortality. In VI, the story is more focused on the technology of the world. For Division Zero, I wanted to get more into the psionic aspect of it, and I felt that Astral Sense (and an open door to ghosts and other things) offered more variety in potential story ideas beyond something like telekinesis or telepathy.

JC: It does look like you have spent many years developing this work. I really enjoy the depth of the characters. Now, your lead character has a special and rare psionic, she can speak to the dead. What inspired you to explore the idea of an ability to speak to the dead? In some ways it reminded me of the work of Brian Lumley’s Necroscope (not in content but in idea).

MC:  Well, the psionic talents that exist in the world the story is set in are codified in the notes I’ve developed over the years. Each separate psionic path (telekinesis, pyrokinesis, telepathy, telempathy etc) has a defined set of abilities and sub skills. I thought that an astral sensate would offer a wider selection of story potential as well as open the door to interacting with things from modern day to draw in some references that would ground the world in a sense of familiarity. (For example in part 2, there are a few ghosts that she interacts with who may seem familiar. (In the timeline of Division Zero, these people who are alive today would be long gone.)

JC: As we have your publisher here on the list, would you like to tell us what it is like to work with Curious Quills?

MC:  Oh they’re great!  Everyone’s so helpful and friendly… and the quirky sense of humor is perfect.

MC:  I think I’ve signed about 15 books with them now and I still get nervous like it’s my first time when I send them a new one, lol.

JC: I like publishers with a sense of humor. I am sure that some of the indie authors here will find that very cool. Now killing a guy, for a character that speaks with the dead, creates an interesting array of problems. I can imagine all the nagging episode and the person following her around taunting her for years. How do you get yourself in a mind set to deal with this issues? (thinking of the problems she as having circa page 19-20) How do you ensure that your character gets a break from what could be a steady stream of nagging?

MC:  Well for most astral sensitives, that would be a big problem. Kirsten has the lash, which most do not. If a ghost gets too irritating she can destroy it, though that is never her first choice. Kirsten doesn’t like to take life. While she has seen glimpses of ‘the other side’, she’s in no hurry to send anyone there ahead of their time. As a police officer in a hyperviolent society, she does kill when absolutely necessary – but even when the person was trying to kill her, she feels guilty about having to take things to that level. Because she can destroy ghosts, she doesn’t worry too much about one lingering around. She’s more hesitant to kill for the sake of not wanting to kill than because of what happens after. As it works out, Kirsten has so far only been forced to kill people who were dark enough that the Harbingers have claimed them within minutes, sparing her the need to deal with an irritated ghost. This issue would be more of a problem for an astral who lacked Kirsten’s aversion to killing and murdered people the Harbingers wouldn’t be interested in.

JC: What do you think drives her overall view of killing- after all she kind of knows what is on the other side.

MC:  Well interesting point. She thinks she knows. She sees some ghosts go through a flash of silver light toward the voices of their families and friends, and she sees black shadows (the harbingers) drag other ghosts off to who-knows-where. She’s also seen a lot of spirits stuck among mortals, and how sad and lonely they are. Because she’s lonely herself, I think she has a big component of guilt at not wanting to be responsible for putting someone in that situation. If it’s a matter of live or die – or an innocent is being threatened, she’d rather put a criminal into limbo than risk an innocent (or herself) being killed. (Except when confronted with vibroblades. She’s phobic of cyberware, and has it in her head that if someone gets too close with a vibro blade she’s going to lose a limb and wake up with a metal arm or something.)

MC:  Ultimately, she really has no idea what happens on the other side of the silver light

JC: I liked the scene of Kirsten talking to her father on the bus. I could see people staring at her when she is shouting at no one. Do you have kids? How would you described the relationship between Kirsten and her father?

MC:  Alas, I do not. The relationship between Kirsten and her father is fairly tragic. I know you read the short story “Into the Beneath” which takes the reader back to when Kirsten was still ten years old and living at home. While her father did love Kirsten, he was terrified of all the supernatural oddities that came looking for her. He is a weak man who couldn’t stand up to his wife and decided to avoid the situation entirely by taking a job that had him traveling away from home for extended periods. This, of course, left Kirsten to the mercy of her abusive mother. She kept looking to him for protection and help, but all he did was run away. Kirsten spent a long time angry at him for being a coward, though by the timeline of Division Zero, she’s sufficiently guilty about never talking to him again after running away that she’s come to a level of forgiveness for what he did. As he represents the only thing even close to family she has left (prior to her taking in Evan), she’s grown more attached than she consciously realizes to him.

JC: I think it is cool that to some degree she is like the rest of us in the dark about the ultimate destination of the human soul. Related, I like how in traumatic situations Kirsten goes into sort of a “trauma trance.” I think it is better though when she manages to pull herself out – it shows strength and adjustment (like on page 61 when she is telling herself it is not Mother). It suggests that you have a deep knowledge of trauma, would you like to share how you acquired it?

MC:  The best thing I can say here is lucky guess or intuition. Fortunately, I’ve been spared having to deal with real trauma too close to home. I build on bits and pieces of things I’ve picked up from other stories / books / movies. Primarily, I try to project myself into the character’s role and think in the way the character would be seeing and feeling that scenario. Then, I factor in the character’s nature and look for what ‘feels right’ for the character to do.

JC: I think that we all have some intuition as to the effects of trauma. I think we all have friends who have been traumatized but I like to say that you take it much deeper. I think you have a much deeper sense of what it means to be in pain and afraid for your life. Switching the topic for a minute- I like how technology sort of forms the setting in your story for what is a pretty deep story of soul searching and coming to terms with the craziness of being different. What insights can you offer us, as Kristen tries to balance her work as sort of a police officer in this world with so many connections in the next? I think someday she make a killer detective squad person in homicide- so who killed you?

MC:  Well, as a psionic, Kirsten is more or less ‘stuck’ with Division Zero. The government doesn’t completely trust psionics, so they like keeping them where they can watch them, even someone as ‘pure’ as Kirsten. She does often talk to ghosts who have been murdered and pass along information to the mundane cops. The legal system doesn’t recognize ‘paranormal evidence’ for inquests (inquests are essentially nonjury trials.) Though she could play translator if the ghost could lead a normal investigator to tangible evidence.

JC: I can see why they would not trust them. I think they have a right to fear people who can say know their lies and use them against them. On a related note about technology, do you think the most used sort of sex bot images say something about the society? Also I like the mystery elements of the book. It is good how you let the story unfold, like a “who done it.” What are some of your major influences as to mystery writing?

MC:  You know, I hate to say it… but I haven’t read many mysteries. I think most of my influences here come from movies and ‘cop shows.’ I’ve watched a lot of Law & Order, and I’ve always been fond of espionage films. As far as the most used sexbots go, that could also speak to the subset of society that frequents those places. People who care more about public perception in that world can sit at home, plug into cyberspace and do or be whatever they want for a little while. The corporate exec who wants to do unseemly things can do it virtually where no one could see – whereas the common schmoe has to go to a place like where Kirsten hunts down a suspect.

JC: Yes, I agree- I think it speaks to a social subset. Can you tell us a little about the rules the society has about getting into some-one else’s head for all these psychics?

MC:  A lot of what Division Zero does is PR for psionics as a social minority. They are going out of their way to mitigate the pervasive fear most citizens have and conduct a “hey, we’re people too” kind of campaign. Currently, psionic information (telepathic mind reading of stuff from a suspect) is not admissible in an inquest. If an officer mind reads something, and then arrests a suspect based on it with no physical evidence, the person will walk and the officer will likely get grumbled at… depending of course on the situation. If there’s been a kidnapping and a Div Zero officer mind reads the location of the victim and goes to rescue them, no one in command will give them crap about that. Generally speaking, the mundane system doesn’t like or trust psionics, so they try to make them as much of a non-issue as possible. Some characters, like Nicole, flagrantly disregard those ‘ethical’ rules, on the mindset that the victims’ rights matter more than those of the suspects. Others, like Dorian, will only resort to a mind read in an extreme case, such as making absolutely sure a suspect is guilty of a heinous crime before conducting a summary execution. But the people in real power are the ones most afraid of them, as it’s hard to keep secrets from a telepath Division 9 does have some cybernetic parts that are capable of shielding a brain from telepathic connections – often in painful ways for the psionic.

In some ways I use ‘psionics’ as a reference for various forms of current day social injustice. (At one point in the Awakened series, one of the characters remarks that they’re shocked that the UK is going to allow psionics to marry.)

JC: Interesting- I can see a future story of controllers for the telapathy. So tell us about Adrian Lewis? Where does he draw his strength from? What insights into his personality and his ability to shock people can you provide? It appears when we first meet him that he does not have control of his powers. We also don’t get a sense of how important the relationship is between him and Daniel.

MC:  [Mild spoilers in this post] – Adrian Lewis has two primary psionic skills, electrokinesis and mechanical aptitude (or technokinesis). He’s more of a mech apt (which is a psionic affinity for machines and technology.) I’m curious what made you think Adrian doesn’t have control of his powers. He is trying to do something with them that most mech apts don’t normally do with it. He can control his powers, but he is trying to invent a new one per se — or at least a new way to use it. The relationship between him and Daniel is complex. They love each other to the point where Adrian has been torn between who he feels he is inside (a woman) and not wanting to commit to that change because he is unwilling to hurt Daniel. In the setting of Division Zero, the technology exists (with enough money) for someone with gender dysphoria to have their DNA restructured into the opposite gender as though they were born that way. Adrian desperately wants to do that, but he’s been battling with guilt sometimes to the point where he’s considered suicide as a way out, but didn’t do it because he knew that would hurt Daniel even more. What he’s doing with dolls is his way of ‘living it vicariously’ to see if he’s 100% sure about the idea.

MC:  Adrian was born with his powers (as are most normal psionics – and by normal I mean non-awakened.) which are extremely rare. (So far, there’s been 8 of them known to exist.)

JC: I like the idea of experimenting with powers. Since he was born with them (lived his whole life with them) I am sure he has tried to run them to there limits. I just got the sense that he was struggling. So Kiristin seems pretty open to Templeton at first, much less guarded then her history might suggest. Is that because of the mounting number of failed relationships in her history? What are your thoughts there?

MC:  Well, what Adrian was trying to do – link his consciousness to a doll in real time was not something he’d tried to do before. Mech aptitude more often than not takes the form of a person being able to fix or work with complex machines without really knowing how they’re doing it. Sort of like a prodigy savant.

MC:  Regarding Templeton, Kirsten hates, hates, hates, being helpless. She spent most of her childhood as a helpless victim, and she’s tired of it. She also had a weak, ineffective father figure who was not there to protect her. Third, she’s so used to everyone treating her like she’s some kind of demonic beast that would kill them as soon as say hello. So, when Templeton (who is older than her 35 to her 22) shows up and helps her out of a bad situation, shows no fear of her even knowing that she’s psionic, she has a sudden upwelling of need to be with him. More of an infatuation really; even Kirsten knows it’s a product of circumstance. Templeton does come back in Book 2 though!

JC: I look forward to reading about his return. I know a lot of this group is online, as I see green lights by there name. I am impressed with their silent watching- they should feel free to jump in. Ok back to Matthew- Tell us about Lucian’s relationship with his wife.

MC:  Lucian is not the kind of guy that does anything directly, at least not when it could come back to bite him in the ass. He’s a ruthless ‘profit at any cost’ corporate shark. His wife started off as a trophy, but he miscalculated her intelligence and refusal to ‘be quiet and smile.’ Nothing too terrible really happened between them beyond drifting apart as it became clear their interests diverged. Dealing with her became a simple matter of economics. Hiring a consultant to resolve the issue cost less than a divorce. Lucian has some sociopathic tendencies, but he does genuinely love his daughter–perhaps the only person he is capable of having real feelings for.

JC: haha, ha, ha- I’ll say. When witness the discussion with Tanaka by astral projection how do you know you are getting the actual memories from the ghost instead of let’s say a false information?

MC:  I’m a little confused by the question. When Kirsten is projecting astrally, she doesn’t interact with Tanaka. She isn’t reading his mind, she simply overhears him speaking on a Vidphone. A psionic’s power emanates from their living body. While Kirsten is out and about as an astral wanderer, if she used any psionic abilities, they would take effect in the area around her body. In essence, she’s a brand new powerless ghost at that point – able to float around, see, and hear, but not do much. Other ghosts can interact with her, and she’s ‘in their world’ and at their mercy since none of her tricks work. Telepathy doesn’t work on ghosts.

JC: Ok. I just was looking for more of a way that she goes about assessing the situation and the information that she is getting to tell truth from lie. Like with living people, you can try to judge changes in pupil size to determine lies. Anyhow, tell us what was involved in taking the young man under her wings (Kirsten) to sort of mentor and train?

MC:  Well, In book 1, she stumbles across Evan and learns he’s in a bad situation. Luckily, he’s psionic which gives her jurisdiction to interfere, and she gets him out of that bad situation. Astrals are rare among psionics, so the higher ups are inclined to let her work with him as a mentor for his power. She is also drawn to him due to certain similarities in their childhood. (Granted, Kirsten – as Dorian said – would take every orphan she finds home if she could.) Of course, she is at a constant war with her own insecurities, wondering if she’s good enough, capable enough, or stable enough to take care of a child. As the series progresses, her need to care for Evan helps her mature as a person – and the fear that she may fail her psych profile and have him taken away from her keeps her awake at night.

JC: Yeah, she seems to want to save people. I think it is a good trait. How much power would you say Intera has? What is its final mission?

MC:  Intera is in the business of making dolls and bots. They are similar to the Apple of today – hip, ubiquitous, have gobs of cash. Now take away any sense of moral compass or inclination to respect law and you get Intera. They work within the UCF where there is still a government ‘in the way’, but they also have a presence in ACC controlled regions (Allied corporate council, the other superpower left after the corporate war). Intera also has off-Earth facilities. They wield a significant amount of power, but they do have to be careful on Earth. Profit is king, and sometimes they grit their teeth and tolerate the government so they don’t lose market share. (I’ve got some basic ideas outlined for another series in this world involving this company :P) It’s final mission is to own the entirety of the market share in doll production and gain as much money, influence, and power as they can. The board doesn’t want to be a visible ‘ruling group’ so to speak, much better to have control but remain anonymous to the masses.

JC: Would you say there is a part of you that can connect with the power and influence part of Intera- not the bot stuff but wielding the power and control they have.

MC:  I dunno. Doubtful… I don’t really crave power or influence. I’m more like Althea from Prophet in terms of mindset

JC: So they are sort of the anti-you. Interesting. Ok, so give us a little peek into the mind of Albert Motte. What drives him?

MC:  [ Spoilers ahead ] – I’m not sure I can answer this without dropping a ton of spoilers, lol. He’s a classic nerd supergeek introvert. Few friends, weak grip on his emotions. Doesn’t handle stress well. He was under-appreciated at his job and thought his contributions were more significant than he was getting credit for. (he was right – he’s meek and not aggressive enough to prevent his superiors from taking advantage of him without compensating him enough.) After Intera decides to assassinate him rather than risk him taking secrets to a competitor, he gets pretty pissed off. He’s not so much angry with a single person as he is the entire corporation.

JC: Ok. We are sort of running out of time. Last question- tell us about working with Dean Samed as a cover artist. What is his greatest strength?

MC:  I think he’s able to hone in on the mood of a book from a general description of it. Both the pieces he did for me so far have been perfect

JC: OK, so that is all the questions that I had tonight. We have been talking with MC: . I like to thank Matthew for taking the time to answer my questions and really showing us a part of what he has developed. Guys, feel free to continue to ask questions if you like. The book is Division Zero. I hope you all pick it up and write him a review. I think that it is an excellent story and part of a really unique series.

MC:  Thanks for having me on Joseph.

JC: It was my pleasure. I love the work- keep it coming!

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Division Zero Trivia Contest

Cover Reveal | Thrall

Reviewers Wanted | Division Zero #1

Daughter of Mars #81 | (A Better Life Part 3)

(start at the beginning)

Osebi put a hand on Risa’s shoulder before she could stand. “I seein dat look in yer eyes again, child. De not carin’ ‘bout livin’ or dyin’ look. Tis a dangerous road to be walkin’.”

“I’m not trying to die,” whispered Risa. She let the strength out of her legs, staring at dark fingers on her colorless skin. “Someone has to answer for Pavo.”

“An’ someone ‘ad ta answer for your old man.” He squeezed, though his attempt at being comforting hurt.

“Ow.” She put a hand atop his. “You’re too strong for your own good.”

“Indeed.” He grinned. “We ‘ave dat in common, though your strength be in da heart.”

I don’t feel strong. I feel broken. “I don’t know anymore.” The laughter of distant children made her present surroundings feel wrong. “What are we doing? Can we really make a difference with bombs?”

He exhaled, and let his arm fall to his side. “You worried ‘bout windin’ up like Gen. Tis not my place to question the great thinkers. I am a sword. Da Corporates killed all I evah held dear. I will fight them tooth an’ claw till the dirt take me.”

She regarded him from her seat, admiring the hard-cut muscles visible through his stained tank top. He didn’t look any older to her than the day she’d first met him almost fourteen years ago. Perhaps he had warmed to the frightened little girl she used to be to fill the pit of his own loss, though he had never one mentioned what happened. She’d often wondered if he had a wife or kids, but never pried. A smile poked through the black cloud of sorrow at the person most like an older brother.

“Thanks. I’ll try to keep my head on.”

Osebi rejoined Ralek at their table. “See that you do.”

She stood and walked out of the common area, making her way through the safehouse towards Garrison’s office. When the command area staff all stopped to stare at her, she returned a confused glance until noticing the chill air had left her nipples prominent through the thin cloth of her sleeveless tee. Someone wolf-whistled.

“What?” She halted, facing the room with her arms out to the sides. “You’ve all seen me in the shower? It’s cold in here.”

“Uh,” said Kendall, picking at his dull-crimson jumpsuit. “Ain’t that. It’s weird seein’ you outta your armor.”

Risa’s augmented hearing picked up a whisper of “she almost looks human” from a woman operating a comm terminal fifty meters away. She looked straight at her, sighed, and power-walked through the glow of the tactical map hovering over the holo-table to an archway at the far side. No matter what I do, everyone stares at me. They’re either scared shitless of what they think I’ll do to them, or they gawk whenever I act ‘normal.’ She stopped in the shadow of a rock-hewn corridor, blocked from view, and breathed into her hands. It’s just the screen bunnies. Anyone who gets their hands dirty knows.

She plodded to the old, familiar door with the taped-up window. Part of her wanted to walk in and curl up on her old cot. Garrison had left it in place behind the hospital partition, as though she’d never left. This room, more than her private one on Death Row, felt like home. The cold door handle felt enough like a gun to remind her why she’d come to talk to him, and rendered her fond memories bittersweet. Four inches open, the door squeaked in the same place it always did. Garrison’s chair creaked.

“It’s me.” Risa poked her head around the side of the door, expecting to see a weapon aimed at the door.

Garrison relaxed, letting go of the sub-gun she knew he had under his desk. Risa slipped in, closing the door behind her, and eyed the teal and aluminum curtain surrounding her childhood ‘bedroom.’ A sudden urge to curl up there left her standing still, staring at it. For years, she’d found the vents more comforting, less open―less vulnerable. Now, this place seemed more welcome than her private space. I feel safer here. She turned her gaze to Garrison and a shiver of vulnerability ran down her body.

He rushed from his seat, rounded the desk, and crossed the room in three strides. She glanced at his chest when he grasped her shoulders.

“What’s wrong?” He leaned back and forth, trying to get her to look at him. “You’re out of your armor, and I don’t like that look.”

“So?” She stared at his chest.

“The thing’s been like your security blanket ever since Maris approved the purchase.” He chuckled. “I never see you out of it.”

She ducked eye contact, no longer able to resist the urge to cling to him. “Pavo’s gone.” Risa let her guard down in the arms of the only person left she trusted.

Garrison maintained grim silence for a few minutes; something in his eyes changed. The concern in his face―more than a mere commander should show for an underling―chipped at her resentment toward the MLF. For a brief time, she felt happy he’d found her.

“How’d it happen?”

Risa took a breath and a step back. “They grabbed him when I was at Arden. Looked organized. Military probably. I think it was C-Branch, but I’ve got nothing to prove it. Tamashī dug up helmet-cam video that―” Her throat closed.

When Garrison pulled her close, the dam broke. Her quiet sobs muffled into his shoulder. At the sound of someone walking by outside, she gathered her composure in case whoever it was barged in. Risa held her breath until her boosted hearing no longer detected footsteps.

“I loved him.” She held back another wave of grief.

He nodded. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“You… knew?” Her mouth gaped.

Smile-wrinkles formed around Garrison’s eyes, though his face remained solemn. “To people who’ve come up in the intelligence industry, the signs were obvious.”

“Why didn’t anyone warn him?” She clenched her hands to fists.

“We had no indication anyone was surveilling him. Pavo wasn’t in a position to be of any intelligence value to either side. At first, we thought someone was trying to exploit your feelings for him, but if that were the case, they wouldn’t have killed him.”

Risa broke away from him and paced. “He was shot while running. They underestimated him.”

“Running?” Garrison pursed his lips in thought. “Perhaps their operation went south and they decided to cut losses and vanish.”

“I’m going to find them.” She held her head high. “I’m going to give Maris what he wanted… an assassin.”

“Risa…” He reached for her cheek.

“No.” She recoiled, turning her back on him. “The reason the government keeps doing this is because they keep getting away with it.”

“Risa, hear me out.” He tugged on her arm until she looked at him. “I can’t lose you. I know you’re hurting over Pavo, but I’m asking you not to do the same thing to me.”

Her mouth opened to speak. After four seconds, she closed it. “Why?”

He blinked. “What do you mean ‘why?’ The why is because I don’t want you to run off and get yourself killed. You might find it hard to believe, but I care about you. You’re” ―Garrison looked to the side and down―“like a daughter to me.”

“If you care so much, why did you let them do this to me? Why do you keep letting them send me out there?” She kept her voice quieter than her emotion wanted it to be. “A father should keep his daughter safe.”

A hint of a smile formed. “You’d have been happier playing with dolls and makeup?”

She stared into his eyes for a long pause before looking at the floor. “That little girl’s dead.” Risa started to turn away, but froze when he grasped her hand. “I… I don’t even know who to be angry at any more. I can’t tell who killed her.” Memories of old screaming matches haunted her. “Maybe I killed myself.”

“You’re alive. I’m sorry this wasn’t the perfect life. Heck, it’s not even normal. I wish I could’ve given you even an ordinary life, but…”

“It’s not your fault. I’d probably have been dead by now if you didn’t find me. Street kids don’t make it to their twenties.”

“When you raced off to Arden, I had the worst feeling.” He slouched. “I didn’t think I’d see you again. Imagine what went through my mind when you weren’t answering vids.”

Anger swelled, stomping down her guilt. “Is that why you’ve been prepping my replacement?”

“Replacement?” He leaned back, raising an eyebrow. “What are you talking about? I could never replace you.”

“Kree,” she whispered, leaning close. “She told me you’re teaching her how to shoot.”

“Shoot?” Garrison tilted his head down, raising both eyebrows. “Teaching the girl how to handle a weapon is a far cry from sending her out in the field. I don’t for a minute think you’re Cat-6, but that sounds paranoid.”

She wandered across the room and sat on her old cot, surrounded by scraps of plasfilm she’d tacked to the wall over the years. Pictures of actors, musicians, and a few adverts with images of ‘normal families’ surrounded her. Her gaze settled on a holo-bar the size of a finger atop three metal cases serving as a nightstand. Military markings, black on bare steel, read: ‘Grenade, High Explosive, Fragmentation.’

Sensing her looking at it, the little device activated and created a transparent image of a smiling eleven-year-old Risa holding a ballistic pistol. Seconds later, it shifted to her sitting in Garrison’s lap with an adult’s helmet on. The light-ghost of her past dissipated as she looked away.

“You taught me how to shoot too.”

Garrison halted at the end of the partition, the weight of his lean caused the metal feet to scrape. “I remember you had fun. It was a game to you then… before all you wanted to do was find the people who killed Voronin.”

She clasped the edge of the cot and looked up at him, feeling much like a child asking her dad for help. “Please don’t let them have her.”

“I’m not looking to replace you.”

Risa stood pointing at his chest. “If one scrap of ‘ware finds its way into that little girl, I’ll never forgive you. She deserves a better life than what I had.” Her arm fell. She glanced away. “Living like a vermin in the sewer, killing people, not knowing if any day is going to be my last one before I get arrested or killed.”

Garrison stepped back as if slapped. His lip quivered, and he seemed incapable of looking at her.

What’s wrong with him. Is that… guilt?

Two rapid knocks came from the opening door. General Maris walked in. “Garrison, a moment please.”

Risa’s glare hardened at him. All traces of vulnerability vanished. She stared at Garrison, teasing at the idea of killing Maris right there for interrupting them.

“Moment, Sir.” Garrison wandered to his desk, wiping at his face.

“What the hell do you want,” asked Risa.

General Maris pointed at her. “You’re dangerously close to―”

“You’re dangerously close to me not giving a fuck anymore.” Her response, cold and calm, stalled him in his tracks.

“Lieutenant…” Maris set his hands on his hips. “We may be able to offer some assistance in your endeavor to strike back at the ones responsible for Officer Aram’s abduction and death.”

“What?” Garrison whirled. “You’re not serious?”

Risa blinked. Every time I ask for help, he says they can’t spare it. Something’s wrong.

“In order to do so, we would need to expand our intelligence gathering capabilities.”

Oh. He just wants me to do something. “What’s the op? I’m guessing for once my needs line up with your wants.”

“Sir.” Garrison walked over, devoid of his previous emotion. “Her operation at the Benton facility netted us sixteen new field operatives. Despite its appearance as sound, you refused assistance. Now, you’re saying we’ll support her from-the-hip plan for revenge? ”

“We cannot risk making enemies of neutral corporations,” said Maris. “The incident with Pavo is more of a threat to us than you’re aware of.”

“They’re not neutral. BMC used slave labor. They’re not better than the ACC.” Risa crossed her arms. “What do you need me to do?”

General Maris’s expression warmed. “Nothing dangerous this time, I promise.”

She squinted. “I’ll be in my room.”

After a brief, longing glance at her old bed, Risa brushed past the General. She roamed the safehouse until she found Kree sitting with the other kids among unused bunks in one of the empty pods. They’d crowded around a jury-rigged holo-bar playing a Monwyn movie. Risa snuck in and sat at her side. Whatever Maris is planning, he looked too happy. He’s never smiled at me before. Kree looked over, grinned, and climbed into her lap.

“The wizard’s ‘bout to fight all the shade goblins,” whispered Kree. “It’s scary.”

Risa put an arm around the girl. “You don’t have to be scared anymore.”

Kree smiled through wild, black hair. “You’re not scared of nothin’.”

Her grip on the child tightened. “You’re right.”

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Daughter of Mars #79 | (A Better Life Part 1)

Daughter of Mars #80 | (A Better Life Part 2)

Daughter of Mars #77 | (Breaking Eggs Part 1)

Division Zero Trivia Contest

Greetings everyone!

I’m running a little game/contest to celebrate the release of Thrall, book 3 in the Division Zero series. For one week, I am accepting answers to the following trivia questions based on books 1 and 2. The person who has submitted the most correct responses by next Tuesday (April 7th) will win a copy of all three books in paperback, signed, as well as a $25 Amazon gift card. (US)

In the event that more than one person gets all the answers right, the winner will be selected at random among anyone with 25 / 25.

Please send your answers to me at mcox2112@gmail.com.

Good Luck!

1.) What is Evan’s last name?

2.) What is the name of Dorian’s previous partner before Kirsten?

3.) Why did Kirsten swear off eating beef?

4.) Why was Kirsten’s bathroom mirror broken?

5.) What drug was Leaf addicted to?

6.) Name the unofficial medical condition responsible for the death of Marissa’s father.

7.) What was the name of Albert Motte’s pet?

8.) What is Captain Eze’s nationality?

9.) Name the priest Kirsten befriends.

10.) What’s the name of the man who leaves Kirsten at the table in the fancy restaurant once he learns she’s psionic?

11.) Where does Kirsten fight the soul collector (hint, the doctor)

12.) What’s the name of the hand-to-hand combat instructor Kirsten is working with?

13.) What is the military equivalent of Kirsten’s “Agent” rank?

14.) In Lex de Mortuis, Kirsten tangles with a wraith who used to be a drug lord. What was his name?

15.) What insect does Kincaid hate dealing with.

16.) Kirsten thinks that every time she wears , bad things happen to her.

17.) What saved Kirsten when she took a header off a parking garage?

18.) Name the Division 9 cyberspace jockey who helped Kirsten hunt down Albert.

19.) Name the Division 0 agent who doesn’t get along well with Dorian.

20.) Name Evan’s favorite fictional character.

21.) Name the ghost who helped Kirsten escape her mother and later taught her how to track spirits.

22.) How did Ritchie die?

23.) Where does Ritchie ‘live’ (so to speak).

24.) What does the breathable gel (b-gel) from the medical tanks taste like?

25.) What was the make of hovercar chasing Kirsten when Dorian killed its power, causing a crash?

 

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Division Zero: Lex De Mortuis

Division Zero

Division Zero Thrall Release

Part Three of the Division Zero series, Thrall, is now live on Amazon

http://amzn.com/B00VEFD2A0

Agent Kirsten Wren could not be happier―all she had to do was send a few demons back to the Abyss.

Her life is as calm and normal as it has ever been. Corporate assassins have not tried to kill her for an entire week, her effort to adopt Evan appears to be going well, and a billionaire is smitten with her.

Alas, fitting in with Konstantin’s high-society crowd proves more awkward than she ever imagined and dredges up a memory best left forgotten. Two years spent living on the street have left her with nothing but disdain for the rich; contempt that sickens her with anxiety over a life with her new beau.

Bodies start turning up with strange withered faces and eerie onyx eyes, filling her with worry that a dark spirit slipped through her fingers despite lack of proof. With each powerful person making bizarre decisions that imperil the stability of the entire nation, her suspicion that something is wrong grows. When the government gives her a week to intercede before they assassinate one of their own diplomats, she knows a dark force is behind it.

Who or whatever summoned Charazu is still out there, and seems to know who she is―and who she loves.

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Division Zero: Thrall

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Division Zero Release Update