Matthew S. Cox's Blog, page 27

Divergent Fate #36

Risa squeezed the doll to her neck, clutching it. Maybe they would let her keep it in her cell until the day came to put her out of the world’s misery. If I run with this, they might believe I really am Cat-6 and feel sorry for the crazy girl and not execute me. The only problem with the idea was in order to act she would have to care.

Risa looked up at the MDF officers, her unintentional expression of sadness made them exchange another glance. They’ll interrogate me. Kree’s smiling face shone through her memory, surrounded by the filth and debris of the MLF safehouse. Despite her awful start to life, the little one seemed happy. Guilt rose in her heart with the memory of the tunnel. I almost killed them all. I deserve this. Every time we use a bomb, the wrong people suffer.

She closed her eyes, burying her face in the doll’s hair. Her mind wandered through a waking nightmare of soldiers raiding the safehouse, shooting everything that moved. Garrison, General Maris, Pavo, the kids… A chill shivered down her back. Men in green wielding same fire that took her father would kill them all.

I can’t let them.

Fingers teased at her throat. All that stood between life and a rapid bleed-out was a mental impulse to her Nano claws. The electronics had no suicide detector; all they knew was a command to deploy. A twitch of a neuron and she would never hurt anyone else, and her secrets would be safe.

Her fingers straightened.

“Are you feeling alright, miss?” asked the female officer.

Risa’s head snapped up; the sudden motion made them both jump. What? “I-I…”

The male officer’s hand hovered over his sidearm. “You shouldn’t be carrying weapons if you’re on something, Miss.”

Her reflection in the female officer’s visor widened and distorted as the cop leaned closer. Risa curled her fingers away from her throat. The woman moved slow, ready to react to sudden aggression, and touched a small metal device to the back of Risa’s hand. It beeped.

“Nothing detected on the quick stick.”

“Cat 6?” asked the male officer.

“I…” Am an idiot. “I’m okay. I just had a panic attack. My ex was being an ass, he sent me this doll.”

“You don’t seem to have a problem with that doll,” said the woman. “The way  your holding it makes me think you’d kill someone trying to take it away.” Any trace of a smile hid behind a full-face visor, dull red and scratched.

“It’s the same one my father gave me before he died, years ago.”  Why are they not pointing guns at me? They have to know who I am by now. I should be in deep shit. “I’m not usually like this. I’m not like myself today.”

“What happened here?” The male officer pointed at the crowd, which now thinned.

Risa explained what happened.

“So, you’re an MLF sympathizer?” asked the woman, sounding amused.

“I think the people of Mars deserve honesty from whoever pulls the strings.” She turned the doll over in her hand. “Someone’s always going to pull the strings. If the MLF is as bad as they claim, they shouldn’t need to doctor the images. When they’re so obvious about it, it only strengthens the impression the government has something to hide, don’t you think?”

“I hate politics,” said the man, gesturing at her to stand.

Risa swallowed hard, some of her old confidence returned. She could kill these two before either of them got their weapons out, but the Defense Force wasn’t her enemy. They were just tools of the regime. One of the things Garrison had hammered into her head was to create a disconnect between the swords and the suits wielding them. She let the woman help her up and waited while they poked and prodded at their forearms. They’re on edge. Why haven’t they taken my guns? Both hands stayed on the doll. She debated adding a childish sway to seem innocent, but did not want to run with the crazy just yet.

He held his arm in front of her face; Risa cringed from the bright light.

“Scans clean. No intoxicants,” he said, glancing at his partner before turning back to Risa. “Are you sure you’re not categorized? You look at least like a Cat-2”

“Have you experienced any recent traumatic stress?” asked the female officer.

Only a little. “I’ll be fine now. I just got scared by an angry crowd.” She found herself almost hiding behind the doll.

“Do you need an escort?”

I can’t be this lucky… Or, them this stupid. “I think I have my head on again. I can get home.” They’re really going to let me walk?

The male officer pointed to his right. “Be careful, especially in the east around the air purifier complex. Something’s got the fringers riled.”

“Thanks.” She managed a weak smile through her disbelief, and walked away without looking over her shoulder.

As soon as she was far enough down a street to be out of sight, she let her arms fall slack, doll dangling from her left hand. The crowd milled around her, one or two pausing to offer drugs, contraband skill chips, or banned hacker-softs. She shuffled to the side, leaned against a grimy wall in a rolling cloud of salt ramen fumes, and tried to calm down.

*  *  *

The trip to Arcadia city had taken four hours. With a hiss and rush of cold air, the autoshower opened. Risa stepped out, squinting at such bright light in the small bathroom. Her hand slid over the plush towel on the bar, as white as the walls and her skin. She gathered it to her face and inhaled the fragrance of detergent for a moment before wrapping it around herself, a makeshift dress from armpit to thigh. The door opened on its own when she walked towards it. She padded across the hotel room to sit at a small table by the window.

She glanced at her ballistic stealth suit, a deflated balloon draped over the huge Comforgel bed. The towel was soft and warm; cozy, not cool and slick against her skin like the armor. Her hand stroked the fabric as if it were a cat. A shift of light caught her eye; she glanced up as Shiro entered via the glass patio door, carrying several boxes.

“I got you a few outfits, some pants, a dress or two… and some lingerie.”

“I don’t usually wear any.”

Shiro almost dropped the boxes, skidding to a halt by the bed and coughing.

She raked damp hair behind her ears one side at a time. “It gets in the way, hard to clean where I usually live, and believe it or not, I have fewer problems in the barracks without it.”

“Perhaps I shouldn’t have gotten the black lace.” Shiro’s pursed lips turned into a smile as he faced her. “What a man doesn’t see is ten times as alluring as what he does.”

“Thanks.”

“For?” He sauntered over, sitting catty corner in the nearest chair.

Her face tingled with a blush, realizing only a towel covered her; still, it hid more curves than her armor. “Letting me in, buying me clothes… being here to talk to. I had a close call.”

“Yes, you told me.” He reached over the table to hold her hand. “I’m glad I had those records cleaned up.”

“You did that?” She gasped. “I thought I was dead.”

Shiro chuckled. “It’s amazing what money can do. The local government up here is for sale. Very few field personnel know your face.”

“They rely too much on technology.” She stared at his thumb, kneading over the back of her hand, and bit her lip. “I… I don’t know how much longer I can do this. I can’t take the killing anymore.”

“That’s why it’s important for you not to lose hope. You are fighting a noble war, Risa Black.”

She blinked. “You know my name?”

He glanced at the patio door; a patch of light from a passing advert bot slid across his face. “Yes. As I said, I have research people. I need to be careful. What else would you do?”

Her toes grasped the carpet, twisting. “I had this stupid idea.” She made a halfhearted chuckle. “Trying to make a normal life and such. No more getting shot at, no more bombs. I want to be a real person.”

“You are a real person.” He brushed her cheek. “As desperate as the citizens here are, things are many times worse in the ACC territories.”

Risa pulled her longing stare away. “You sound pro-UCF now. You’re from Earth, you’re probably making money off this whole mess.”

He leaned back, tapping his fingers on the faux wood table. “I’m not pro-Earth, I’m pro ‘the way it is.’ Think about things realistically, Risa. No one ever wins a war on two fronts. Your people attack the ACC and the UCF at the same time, at random, with little if any follow up. As far as they are concerned, you’re just an annoyance.”

“We’re not an annoyance!” She leapt to her feet, almost losing the towel. “We’re fighting to create a government that protects its people, not leaves them to fend for themselves in dirty tunnels while companies suck Mars dry and make Earth-dwellers rich.”

“Ouch.” He smiled through a cringe. “I don’t make money from Mars.”

“Oh, you know what I mean.” She wandered in a circle before he snagged her hand and pulled her into his lap. “What are you doing?”

“You found your fire again, and I want your movement to succeed. Your people need to be smart about it.”

Rigidity faded; after a moment, having his arm around her did not seem so bad. “What do you mean smart?”

“Have you ever heard the axiom, the enemy of an enemy is a friend?”

She froze; at that distance, the violet of her stare reflected from his green eyes. “I’m not sure I like where this is going.”

8 Days left to VI

A little over one week left until the release party for Virtual Immortality, and I’m brimming with excitement! For those of you who don’t know what a Facebook release party is, a bunch of us get together online at the same time and race to keep up with a page updating too fast.

The event will be hosted by Leslie Whitaker, who will post an assortment of games (caption contests, brain teasers, sharing games etc.) Winners for these games will be selected by her, for prizes ranging from two hardcover copies of Virtual Immortality, an e-copy, two 18×24 posters of the cover art, and some cover-themed trinkets made by Justplummy Swagit.

Hope to see you there!

Goodreads Giveaway (Hardcover) – Ends May 19

https://www.goodreads.com/giveaway/show/89241-virtual-immortality

Facebook Release Party – May 15th – 3:00 to 5:00 PM EST.

https://www.facebook.com/events/1419653974962211

My Author page (if anyone wants to click the Like button )

https://www.facebook.com/MatthewSCoxAuthor

Twitter:

@Mscox_Fiction

Review | Valcoria by Jason King

Jason King’s Valcoria immerses the reader in a well-thought out, deep world with a rich history. A personal irk of mine is when technology creeps into a fantasy work. More often than not, it turns me off. In Valcoria, however, King combines elements of an ancient ruined civilization (technology) in a way that does not feel ‘tacked on’ as it so often does. Also, there are no elves, dragons, dwarves or any overt “wizards” – so the emergence of technology does not feel out of place.

The characters are conflicted, many are torn between loyalty to duty and their own desire, some between courage and cowardice, others between family and power, and all struck me as believable. Throughout the book, chapter headings tease with a tale of a fallen ruler as they reveal the history of the world. There was no “magic” in the traditional fantasy sense, instead a sense of mysticism based on manipulating the energy of one’s soul (Jia) channeled in one of a number of ways (healing, boosting strength/speed, teleportation) depending on which lineage a person descended from.

King’s narrative alternates from one character to another to show the story from multiple angles and brings us closer to all of the major characters. Occasionally I found it irksome to shift to another character’s perspective, but I think that was due to me wanting to get back to (and find out what happened) with a previous character. Some are more complex (Yuiv) than others (Lorta – who at times can be archetypical), but I enjoyed the portrayals and found the characters well done.

Overall, between the effort put into crafting the world and its pantheon, and the storytelling, Valcoria is a worthy addition to any bookshelf.

 

Valcoria on Amazon

 

Jason King on Facebook

Divergent Fate #35

A series of meticulous folds reduced the synthetic paper into a dense lump imbued with the fragrance of strawberry. Risa had taken an hour to eat her birthday cake, such as it was, and slipped the crenulated wrapper into a small pocket on the left side of her weapons harness. I’m saving garbage. She shuddered into a ball, wrapping herself around the plush toy. No… It’s a memory.

After securing the doll to her belt, she slipped off the metal plate, falling through the blast of a heating vent and landing on a thick, swaying cable. With the grace of a dangling gymnast, she climbed over wires and protrusions in the wall, her descent through the darkness unnoticed by the crowd in Concourse 3. At ground level, warmer air, heated by bodies and lights, carried the overwhelming presence of seared meat from a gyro stand where a tunnel met the square.

Risa leaned against the wall, head down, holding the princess doll to her chest with both arms. She peered over its black hair, watching citizens go about their errands, feeling like a spectator on the edge of society. Could I have a normal life? One step brought her closer to the edge of shadow. Shiro could get me away from this life. Her attention found every couple in the crowd; some walked in polite company, others with a continuous adoring stare. I don’t feel anything for him. She shivered. Would Pavo want what’s left of me? Another step; she emerged into the light, jostled by a man in a rush. A hasty apology came without a look over his shoulder. She squeezed the doll, not caring how people looked at her. Everyone thinks I’m Cat-6 already. Her walk among the crowd brought as much worry as it did hope. At any second, someone might recognize her―recognize the MLF’s famous phantom. She fought for these people. They must know that, they would keep her secret.

A grey pylon near the middle of the courtyard offered a convenient place to lean. From beneath a poster-sized transparent panel, a physical screen played an endless cycle of adverts. So close she could perceive individual pixels in the ancient display, she stared, stroking the dolls head. The advertisements lost meaning, becoming patterns of shifting colors.

Three such columns stood around a larger, central tower containing a dozen, more modern, holo-emitters. Floating planes contained local news, gambling scores, and several Gee-Ball games as well as recaps. The amorphous mass of color at her left went dark between ads, light blobs replaced with her reflection. A pale-faced wraith with glowing violet eyes glared at her, childlike and eerie. Risa shied away from herself, afraid of being in alone a dark place alone herself. Her daydreams of a normal life shattered from the wail of a nonexistent baby. My own child couldn’t bear to look at me. Having my eyes regrown would be too expensive. Shiro could afford it.

Fantasies played through her mind; running away with the rich businessman would give her a life free from the fear a bullet with her name on it waited around every corner. An existence not caring about politics or a war that could never be won.

Kree wasn’t afraid of me. Risa felt better for a moment, until thoughts of what the little girl must have seen on the streets crept in. She’s as broken as I am. No, she can’t be. Her eyes still looked alive. She leaned back, banging her head against the viewscreen hard enough to draw a few stares. Stop it. What is wrong with me? One mysterious doll and I start feeling sorry for myself all over again? Kree is the exact reason I’m doing this. She deserves a better planet to live on. I don’t even know who sent it. Who could have known I wanted it when I was little? Only…

“Daddy…” she whispered, sinking into a squat with her back against the pylon.

A handful of people who saw that scurried away, careful not to make eye contact with the crazy girl. Impossible only began to describe her thoughts on a gift from her dead father. Then again, if Raziel exists, there must be some kind of afterlife. Was the doll a message to get out before she got hurt?

She looked up as a murmur swept through the crowd. Instinct tensed the muscles in her legs as she expected an imminent need to evade MDF officers. People migrated towards the center, attracted by a large, loud holo-panel with the image of an older man, native Marsborn by his utter lack of color. His skin looked too big for his skeleton and his two toned hair, black on the ends, grey at the roots, shifted like a dead animal as he gestured at a small picture-in-picture. Images of mangled bodies and smoke drew the crowd in tight. The video focused in on bleeding women and children, screaming chaos, and tragedy―even a dog trotting off with an arm in its mouth.

“This is exactly the kind of senseless violence we have come to expect from the so-called Martian Liberation Front. If you recall, Moht, this was taken during the Dominion Day celebrations three years ago. One hundred forty dead.”

A red field bearing yellow letters: “MLF – Free Mars” burst through static on several holo-projectors visible in the background.

“Yes, yes, tragic.” Moht Daran, political commentator for Mars Media Corp, clucked his tongue. “Have the Defense Forces made any progress yet?”

“Should round ‘em up and launch ‘em into space,” shouted a middle-aged man a few steps to her right.

“Bunch of killers,” added a woman.

“It’s all dustblow!” shouted Risa, drawing stares. “Half of those images are from Earth. That little girl in the brown coat was from the Revolution Day bombing in Moscow 2408. Look at the glass behind her, that’s blue sky and you can see minarets. Those two women have never even set foot on Mars. That video’s from the ACC invasion of Mexico, centuries ago! That arm is fake too! Look at the dog’s shadow, there’s no arm in the shadow! It’s all propaganda. That… that MLF sign. It’s not even on a monitor, that’s a damn window! You people are being lied to by the government and they’re not even trying hard.”

She froze, one arm clutching her doll, one pointed at the holographic talking heads. Shit. Her gaze darted about searching for an exit, but the crowd had come to see the gore and walled her in. Her throat closed as if strangled. People glanced from her to the screens; some in the back, too far to hear her outburst, continued to call her brethren criminals and call for military action. Risa locked eyes with a well-dressed man in a maroon coat, briefcase at his side, giving her a sympathetic look.

“They don’t attack civilians. They want independence; why kill the people you’re trying to help? Can’t you see that makes no sense at all?”

For a few seconds, she thought she had reached him. The look on his face turned to one of condescending pity. “What are they doing to you kids at the university these days? There’s more to life than overpriced coffee, flowerbasket, and awful poetry. You look like you’ve hit it a bit too hard, do you need help getting to a med center?”

“Think we got a terrorist here,” said a deep voice to her left. “You ain’t a sympathizer are yas?”

“She’s armed!” cried a woman.

A few people cringed, some pulled pistols.

Murmurs of discontent spread through the crowd; everyone stared at her.

“Lies. They’re just lies.” Risa shivered, backing into the pylon, clutching the doll. “Don’t you realize what they are doing? They just want everyone complacent and scared. I can’t believe you don’t see that.”

She had risked her life at least a dozen times for these people. She had modified her body to help them, and now they turned on her. Angry faces and pointing fingers yanked the rug out from under her conviction; she slumped against the pylon, sitting in a ball, staring with vacant eyes at the ground. Father believed in the cause, and they killed him for it.

“Hope they burn them all out of the tunnels like rats,” said a voice overhead.

“They need to stand trial,” shouted a woman. “We’re still democratic.”

A male voice carried the telltale slowdown of a Flowerbasket high. “In your dreams. We haven’t had democracy for centuries.”

Someone close threw an empty disposable cup to the ground, bouncing it off Risa. “This one’s just Cat-6. Probably high.”

“The UCF is a democratic state, still governed by a senate and―”

The shrill, sanctimonious female voice, and resulting argument, pulled the crowd’s attention away from her. She tuned out the screeching until the voice in her mind grew deafening. Is our cause doomed? These idiots don’t even want to be saved? Who are we to force freedom on people who think they already have it? I… don’t want to do this anymore. She snuggled the doll.

Two MDF officers, a man and a woman, emerged from the crowd. Their rush towards her slowed when they got close enough to see she was not about to be a victim of mob violence. When they saw her cradling the doll, they exchanged a glance. The female officer raised her left forearm to her helmet, tapping at holographic buttons. They’re running my records. Risa lowered her head, burying her face in the doll’s hair.

I don’t want to do this anymore… go ahead, take me.

VI Release Party (Facebook Event)

All are welcome to join me for a Facebook release event on May 15th. Prizes include 2 hardcover copies (signed, of course), 2 wall posters of the cover art, an e-book or two, and some other swag.

 

https://www.facebook.com/events/14196...

Hardcover VI

It seems I have the distinction of having written the longest book in the Curiosity Quills catalog As such, they would rather release the physical copy as a hardcover – which I was more than thrilled to hear. Rather than have a paperback priced a bit higher than paperbacks ought to be, Virtual Immortality will be released in hardcover!

Also, there will be an early Facebook release party on the 15th hosted by Leslie Whitaker.  Keep an eye out for invites.

 

Release: May 19 2014

 

Divergent Fate #34

Risa’s hand, inches from her eyes, stark white against the grime-stained plastisteel shelf upon which she lay. The din of people echoed up from far below in Concourse 3, the second largest open square in Elysium city. Innumerable slackened cables hung from the walls, thick, black vines in a jungle of technological ruin. She did not know what any of them were for; judging by the filth, nobody else did either. No one could see her in the dark; no one but her own guilty conscience pushing her one step farther away from human. The metal beneath her was hot, permeating the gel of her ballistic suit and wrapping her in warmth that found equilibrium with the frigid air caressing her face.

Fingernails scraped lightly as she made a fist against the metal. What was it about this high, lonely place that made her seek comfort here? She opened her hand, fluttering her fingers in a slow rhythmic motion, trying to stare through her skin at the lethal crystalline blades within.

A spark jumped a synapse in her brain, traversing living tissue for two hundredths of a second before a nanometer wide platinum thread responded to the impulse, carrying it to a tiny metal box on her brain stem. From there, a miniscule current ran through wires down her arm. One Nano claw erupted through droplets of blood from the tip of her index finger. Four segments slid together, locking into a single, rigid, curved instrument of death. Blood ran in thin channels down the edge, pooling at her fingertip before dripping with a pat to the metal vent.

Andrei was a pig.

The Nano claw snapped into its embedded sheath; the narrow slit left behind sealed seconds later, knit by an army of unseen nanobots.

He was still a person.

She made a fist once more, and brought it down hard on the metal. The knowledge of what kind of man Andrei had been, of what he was planning to do to Ingrid, did sap some of her guilt―enough to keep her from crying. The nausea still came.

Risa had kept out of sight in the tunnels with Ingrid until the shooting stopped. Only five among the ACC soldiers walked away. Ingrid was one of two women there; the other was augmented, armored, motivated―and overconfident. Three of four MLF fatalities came at her hands. The woman had charged into the open, assuming the MLF to be poorly armed. Silvery energy-absorbent plating on metal arms as well as her vest had done nothing against the magnetic rifles Shiro provided. Had they gone in there with their usual stock of laser rifles, they would have been walking into a slaughter.

Did Shiro know? How could he? Risa closed her eyes, hearing a memory of Raziel’s voice.

“Money and information are the same stick, child. Different only in who holds each end.”

Faces of the lost flashed through her mind, lit in pluses from a nonexistent camera. Yanna… She’d only been twenty years old, neck crushed by the cyborg bitch when she tried to drag her brother to safety. She collapsed dead on top of Tuomas, siblings together in a final embrace. Risa curled into a tighter ball, overcome with guilt at the loss.

She had never met the other two who died, both had been new recruits from Drakus Mons, but the sight of dust-covered faces gaping at the sky beneath shattered visors would haunt her forever.

Pavo had suffered a minor burn on his shoulder. Risa found herself as upset over that as a dead stranger. He had carried her back from veritable death in a dive hotel bathtub, and she hid like a rat in a tunnel while they shot him. Those were my orders. Stay down, stay out of sight. Risa pushed herself up and sat, legs hanging over the side. Who’s order was it? Is Garrison feeling fatherly? Certainly not Maris. Curiosity and betrayal danced with each other as she thought of the way Shiro had looked at her over dinner. How does Pavo feel? Am I a sister in the cause, or more? She rubbed the bridge of her nose with both hands. Shiro is a way out. I could get away from all of this. Arms fell slack, crossed in her lap, head down. Who am I kidding? I’m too broken for love.

A band of pink light crept up the wall, stretching shadows from the arm-thick cables. An orb bot rose to eye level and tilted like the head of a curious dog. Blinking ion emitters surrounded the lower half, creating the eerie glow through drifting cables. When she looked at it, half a dozen holo-panes opened nearby showing ads: cakes and candies, frilly women’s clothing, dolls, stuffed animals, and other cutesy items.

All the things the government had taken away from her with fire and screaming. Her father’s smiling face appeared in her mind, between two outstretched arms. Behind him, the room blurred past in a spin and her childish voice giggled. A birthday party, six or seven, perhaps.

I used to be a little princess. Risa lifted her legs, hooking boot heels on the edge and buried her face in her knees. Her hair fell in a cascade down to her boots. The king died, and now I’m the Queen of Death.

The orb emitted a series of beeps and chirps. Her head snapped up in time to notice the screens reacting as if someone had touched them, making selections. Before she could protest, the orb wobbled in thanks and shot straight down out of sight, taking the pink glow with it.

“What the hell was that?”

She stretched out again, gazing past swinging feet at the crowd six stories away. Everyone was tense. Parents kept little children close, anyone alone always moved at a speed just short of a run. No one liked crowded spaces, perfect locations for an MLF bomb. They don’t understand. We don’t attack the people.

A boxy hover-bot glided out of a distant tunnel and flew up to her. She scooted back against the wall, Hotaru-6 in hand, and aimed. Even from a hundred or so yards away, the bot shivered. Her NetMini beeped with an incoming text.

“Do not destroy ComTec Corporation Delivery unit CBD-81403:4, contents non-hazardous.”

Yeah, right. I’m going to believe that.

“Define contents,” she typed back.

A few seconds later, it beeped again. “Confection, wax, cloth, plastic.”

Risa lowered the laser pistol, eyes narrowing. The box-bot tilted forward with a whirr, gliding up to a halt just close enough for her to reach it. The front panel opened downward and a tray slid out bearing an oversized cupcake. Chocolate, with pink icing and one candle. White letters around the edge spelled: “Happy ?th  Birthday Risa.”

Already brittle emotions cracked to tears as she holstered the weapon and accepted the cake, cradling it. The tray retracted and came out again bearing a long box. Black letters printed upon plain white plastic repeated the phrase “Happy Birthday.” She set the cake on her leg and took the box, allowing the bot to zoom away.

Realizing it was her birthday brought shivers. Even she had forgotten.

She covered her mouth and gasped at what lay inside. A cloth doll in a pink dress; the same one she had begged and begged her father to get for her ninth birthday. The unimportant day that came and went without notice two months after he died.

Risa clutched the twelve-inch plush princess to her chest, feeling foolish for hugging a doll at the same time she could not stop crying. Her head sagged, catching more writing on the inside of the box:

“To the girl you should not let them destroy.”

Goodreads Giveaway | Virtual Immortality

 

The Goodreads giveaway for a paperback copy of Virtual Immortality is now open for entries. It will close to entries on the book’s release date of May 19th.

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/2...

Divergent Fate #33

Ingrid trembled, filling the operations room with the sound of a rattling chair. Andrei stared at the small patch of exposed black lace. The woman shrank in on herself, turning red. Risa frowned at the young corporate soldier in the doorway, rolling her eyes with a scoff.

Andrei glared at her, reluctant to look away from Ingrid. Disdain was not the reaction he expected from pointing a weapon at her. “Don’t look at me like that.” Her frown deepened. He withstood the attitude for all of ten seconds before blurting, “What?”

“Look at your uniform.” She gestured at his drab crimson jumpsuit, using her chip to speak Russian. “It does not look as though it has been washed in weeks. Stains are everywhere, the crease is not pressed, your pins are out of place, and you smell like a vagrant. I should not expect much from the milk-fed forward operations division. You run this facility like it does not matter, as if you are on vacation. They should have special forces here, not children.”

His face reddened as the rubber pistol grip creaked, knuckles whitening. “I know what you’re doing. You’re trying to trick me. Identification, now!”

She blinked at him, silent for a long moment. “You are joking, correct? You expect me to carry a badge identifying myself as secret police while on an undercover mission? You really are as inexperienced as you look. Do you even shave yet?”

Andrei looked at Ingrid. She stared between him and Risa as though she could not decide who she was more fearful of. His arm began to lower despite his anger, until he spotted dozens of red Offline indicators on the terminals. “If you are secret police, why are you disabling everything? This is a lie!” He pointed at Ingrid. “That is why you confessed to wanting to defect. We are being attacked!”

Risa’s gaze went to the right and down as her posture took on the stance of a broken marionette. No emotion showed on her face. “How old are you Andrei?”

Ingrid’s eyes went wide. For a second, she seemed relieved, then terrified. She bit her lip and cringed away, boots scuffing at the floor in an effort to push a bolted chair.

“Hands up, turn around, on your knees.” When she did not move, he took a step closer and pointed the gun at her head. “I don’t know who you are, but you did find a traitor. For that, they probably won’t execute you. Now, get down!”

She remained motionless, a slender doll standing askew. “You didn’t tell me how old you were.”

Ingrid shivered, unable to look away from Risa. Her bindings creaked as she fought to break her hands free. “Andrei, please don’t do this. We can get out of here. We can find a real life away from the Council.”

“I will be promoted for exposing your disloyalty. I almost hope they do not kill you; you would make an excellent recreation officer.”

“I’m sorry, Andrei,” Whispered Risa. “You look so young.”

He hasn’t showered in weeks.

The tip of his pistol wobbled; a manifestation of anger and fear. She was not even looking at him. “Stop ignoring me! I said, put your damn hands in the air.”

“No! I’d rather you shoot me!” Ingrid yelled and kicked at him; her lunge jerked to a halt by her wrists tied to the chair back.

Andrei flinched. Neuralware flung Risa into accelerated motion that changed his rightward cringe into a caricature. Transparent Nano claws sprang out of her fingers as she leapt. Four six-inch blades sliced his gun―and the hand holding it―into several pieces. At the same instant, her right arm lanced forward, five fingertips touched his chest.

Blood darkened in an expanding blotch before his face showed any reaction. Andrei’s breath gasped over her face, hot with the stench of synthetic alcohol. He fell backwards, sliding off the five tiny daggers that had pierced his heart. She left her arm outstretched, statue still as Ingrid stifled a scream. Andrei’s body settled, one knee bent, left leg straight. Red spurts from his half-forearm slowed, then stopped.

Risa still had not moved; she stared at two drops of blood swelling at the tip of her claws, wondering if they would fall. Loud was the sound of Ingrid gasping for breath and trying not to sob. Risa turned her hand, mesmerized by the gravid droplets shifting on the clear edge. A chirp from her left forearm snapped her out of it. She squatted and wiped her claws on Andrei’s jumpsuit before retracting them and looking at the message.

Black letters floated in a field of cyan: ETA 30 sec.

“Wie haben Sie das gemacht?” whispered Ingrid, sounding afraid of her own voice.

The words “How did you do that?” floated through Risa’s vision. A split second mental command shifted her German language chip to active speech mode.

“You disappeared and then you were in front of him and he…” Ingrid cried, boots squeaking on the metal floor as she rotated her chair to face the console. “I knew you would kill him as soon as you started standing like a dead android.” She shivered. “That’s what the stories say about you. Whenever you do that, it means people are gonna die.”

“I don’t enjoy it.” Risa fell into the empty chair and flicked a few more systems offline.

With all the sensors down, she was blind to anything that went on outside.

“He was a pig.” Ingrid raised her knee to wipe her tears. “Thank you. Do not mistake this for sorrow. I… I’ve never seen a man die before.” She took a few breaths. “It is different for men. He wanted to join the army. I just wanted to go to the university.”

Risa studied the holes at the tips of her gloves, trying not to dwell on how third grade was as far as she got in “real” school. Damn. E-suit is compromised. I should’ve shot him. Bah, the holes are small, nothing duct tape won’t fix. “You came out here to the ass crack of Mars to go to school?”

“No. It is―” Ingrid looked up at a muted boom. “It is not easy for women. They expect me to…” She blushed. “I say no to the wrong person. I get transferred. I say no again. I get moved to worse and worse places until I wind up here. In six years, I will get papers to apply for school.”

“After six years of hell it’s a maybe?” Risa’s guilt over Andrei weakened.

“If I am still even alive, yes.” Ingrid looked at the floor. “I was a fool to believe them. I should have stayed a commoner.”

A distant explosion shook the room and took the power out. Ingrid squirmed and tugged at the cords holding her down, freezing when she met Risa’s violet gaze.

“Are you really the Black Ghost?”

Another heavy rumble rolled overhead, accompanied by falling dust.

“Is that what they call me?” Risa leaned forward, elbows on knees. “Hurry up, I hate this suit.”

“I’m astonished Andrei did not recognize you. He was so stupid. I am happy you have come here. I wish to join you.”

“You sound too eager, even with your sad story.”

Ingrid looked around at a room dark to her, coming back to the only visible object―Risa’s glowing visor. “I know you do not trust me. It is okay that you”―she tugged at her hands―“have taken precautions. Bring me with you. Leave me tied, I don’t care. I hate it out here. I want out of here. I want away from these Corporate pigs. Take me to the UCF.”

“You don’t have any family?”

“Only a brother, and he is as bad as Andrei.”

Weak red light saturated the room; backup power had come online. The holo-terminals cycled through various power-up tests and settled on displaying “Error” or static.

Rippling detonations passed overhead, bringing more dust.

“Friends of yours? UCF?”

“No. MLF.”

“I will join your MLF if I have to.”

Risa put her boot on Ingrid’s chair, next to her knee. “You wouldn’t want that.” She kicked, spinning the woman around so her back was facing.

Ingrid strained at her bindings, panicking as Risa drew up behind her, close. “W-what are you doing? Please don’t kill me. I swear I won’t tell anyone I saw you here!”

The young woman squeaked at the faint click of a single Nano claw snapping to the ready.

Risa put a hand her shoulder, causing a squeal. She waited for Ingrid’s eyes to open again, and cut the ties with a flick of her finger.

Ingrid brought her arms around front and gathered her shirt closed, shaking. “You are toying with me?”

“No.” Risa drew one of her pistols and moved to the door. “I believe you.”

Book Signing | 4/17 Edison, NJ

I will be at Barnes & Noble of Edison, NJ on April 17th from 6-8pm as part of the Authors & Educators event.