Matthew S. Cox's Blog, page 28

Divergent Fate #32

Death Wish. The phrase, in Javier’s voice, repeated in Risa’s mind as she stared through vectored slats into the dark exhaust chute. The enviro-suit would make it difficult to hear danger before it was too late to move. If they take a pot shot at something, I’m…

Cyan light filled her visor as she covered her face with her forearm. The ancient text-only screen was still blank. Come on, Donovan. What’s taking so long? A series of failure scenarios cycled through her mind; if something had happened to the rest of the squad, she was thousands of miles away from civilization. It was anyone’s guess what the ACC would do if they captured her. They knew who she was; maybe if she got lucky it would just be a summary execution in the field.

She didn’t expect to get that lucky. Not unless something happened to her pretty face.

Beep. CLR GO appeared on her forearm.

Thoughts of failure, capture, and death vanished in an instant. She lunged forward, squeezing between the vents and slithering onto her stomach into the square tunnel. Sweat beaded on her face as she crawled, gloves and knees sliding on the slick metal. There was no way to know how long the diversion would keep the UCF from sending any aircraft near this area. If they launched with her in the shaft, she’d be cooked in place. Her heartbeat pounded in her head, fear she could not show in the briefing room stared back at her from the inside of her visor.

Cybernetic eyes dispelled her reflection, rendering the shaft in shades of green. Flashes of bright lime danced at the bottom edge of her sight from flailing gloves. Her speedware did not offer much help with an ungainly crawl, though she used it anyway.

Her frantic scramble ended two minutes later at a dense grating separating the tunnel from a large conical chamber. No time for subtle. Out of instinct, she held her hand out like a claw but paused. Damn these gloves. Risa yanked a Nano knife from her weapon harness and cut through the finger-thick rods with a two-handed grip. It fell in with a loud clank that seemed to echo over the entire planet. Risa slipped through the opening, landing on her hands a few inches below the level of the tunnel. She got to her feet and gazed up. Towards the top of the chamber, a pair of oval ports nine feet tall led to the twin missile batteries. Her gaze tracked imaginary fumes from the opening, around the purpose-shaped walls, to the tunnel.

This is a really bad place to stand.

A ladder led up the facing wall to a maintenance hatch. To her astonishment, the exit was secured only with a mechanical lock. Thank the ACC for being cheapskates… Then again, electronics would melt. Guess they figured no one would be crazy enough to try this. She strained at the lever, hanging all her weight on it and tugging. It gave, rotating a central gear that extracted pins from the four corners. As soon as it broke seal, a strong blast of dust washed over her. She forced herself through the gale and pulled the hatch closed behind her. With the threat of a fiery death locked behind her, she collapsed on her ass and leaned against the wall for a few breaths.

The small chamber was full of narrow pipes, no doubt carrying wires. As tempting as it was to wreak havoc, she disregarded them and crawled to a downward shaft. Risa clutched her helmet, wanting to rub her face. An itch at her nose proved maddening. Readouts on her facemask indicated the air was breathable here. As much as she despised the feeling of the e-suit, she had no time to ditch it.

She peered into the downward shaft and found it dim and empty. Risa jumped, bracing boots and gloves on the walls to descend in a controlled fall. She sprang up from her landing into a sprint, kicking on her speedware to clear a hundred meter curving tunnel in just over four seconds. Her body bounced off the door as she skidded to a halt and attacked the code panel.

It took longer to hack the lock than it did to run the corridor. It flashed green and let her in to a small airlock. While waiting for the system to cycle, she sent a text: IN. The inner door whirred open, revealing a cramped hallway resembling more what she expected to see on a submarine than a stationary facility.

Blue light formed a rectangle on the left wall twenty feet ahead. Shadows moved within, the faint hint of a silhouette. Risa crept along the right side, drawing one of her Hotaru-6 pistols as she advanced on the doorway. Hours of staring at maps before this trip told her she approached the control room under the center of the compound.

Electronics covered three of the four walls of a ten-foot chamber: holo-panels, proximity sensors, and status indicators showing everything from the temperature of latrine water to orbital radar. One of the two seats was occupied by a slender brunette in a drab Mars-red cloth uniform. The other seat faced the door.

Risa’s undrawn sidearm, hanging under her right arm, clanked against the metal wall. The woman spun, blurting in German―translated by the chip behind her left ear.

“I don’t care! I won’t let you―”

The two women stared at each other; the operator had red around her eyes and a few of her shirt’s buttons sat on the floor. A modest tan meant she was born on Earth. She looked young, a low ranking enlisted based on her insignia. Risa’s heart grew heavy, but she aimed her laser pistol. Innocent faces meant little on Mars. This girl might kill her as much as look at her. Words came slow; the sound of her own voice speaking passable German felt alien.

“Do not move. I do not want to hurt you.”

“It’s you… The phantom.” The girl trembled. “Please… don’t kill me, I’m only seventeen. I don’t even want to be here. I must serve to be able to go to university. Andrei…”

“Shh.” Risa wagged her gun to the side. “On the floor, arms behind your back.”

The woman stood, hands raised. Risa removed a small pistol from the woman’s belt and pointed at the floor. Sniveling, the younger woman got down and put her arms behind her. Risa squatted and tied her wrists with flexi-cuffs before helping her back into the chair and securing the binding to the seatback. By the time Risa stood up, the ACC soldier shivered out of control. Risa took the opposite seat, keeping the pistol aimed at her prisoner. With her eyes darting back and forth from the woman to the console, she set about the task of cutting power to the perimeter sensors.

“What’s going on? What are you doing?”

Risa’s fingers flew through ethereal control panels, disarming a string of EMP mines set up at a quarter mile perimeter.

“Please, don’t just ignore me.” She shivered harder. “I-I’m Ingrid. I…”

“I’m not going to kill you, Ingrid. You don’t have to spin the psych stuff at me. I’m not ignoring you, I’m concentrating.”

The room darkened as system after system shut down. Risa raised her forearm, hesitant to release her pistol in order to type on the old pad.

“How’d you get inside?”

“Exhaust shaft.” Risa used the handle of the Hotaru-6 to push buttons, keeping the barrel more-or-less pointed at Ingrid.

The woman’s eyes opened as far as possible. “That’s…”

“Crazy or suicidal? Yeah, I know.” Clear GO. Send.

“What happens now?” Ingrid pressed her knees together, fidgeting.

“Some friends of mine are on the way.”

The chair creaked as the girl tried to free herself. “Take me with you, please. Don’t leave me here. If Andrei finds me like this…” She whimpered. “I want to defect.”

Damn, I wish I was psionic.

She stared over gunsights at the exposed skin between Ingrid’s torn shirt flaps. Three fingernail scratches disappeared beneath a black lace bra. Risa raised an eyebrow.

“Is that uniform standard issue?”

“Traitor!” shouted a man from the doorway.

“You must be Andrei.” Risa added a hint of Russian to her accent and glanced at the figure in the door. His pistol pointed at her, but he stared at the other girl. “Well, Ingrid, I guess you weren’t acting.”

Cover Reveal | Krystal Wade

Quite the flurry of cover reveals as of late! The most recent is from fellow CQ author Krystal Wade:

Popular YA author Krystal Wade has a thrilling new young adult novel coming out in October, 2014! The spine-tingling suspense in CHARMING will get your heart rate up. We promise you.

They say what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, and that’s great . . . as long as you don’t die.

Sixteen-year-old Haley Tremaine had it all: top-notch school, fantastic family, and a bright future, but all of that changed when an accident tore her family apart. Now, an alcoholic father, a bitter younger sister, and a cold headstone bearing her mother’s name are all she has left.

Chris Charming has it all: a powerful CEO for a father, a prestigious school, and a fortune at his fingertips, but none of that matters when he lands a reputation as a troublemaker. Struggling to follow in his father’s footsteps, he reaches out to the one person he believes truly sees him, the one person he wants: Haley.

Little do they know someone’s determined to bring the two together, even if it means murder.

 Add CHARMING to your TBR pile on Goodreads!

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/20703750-charming

Krystal Wade can be found in the sluglines outside Washington D.C. every morning, Monday through Friday. With coffee in hand, iPod plugged in, and strangers – who sometimes snore, smell, or have incredibly bad gas – sitting next to her, she zones out and thinks of fantastical worlds for you and me to read.

How else can she cope with a fifty mile commute?

Good thing she has her husband and three kids to go home to. They keep her sane.

Website: http://www.krystal-wade.com/

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/author.krystalwade

Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/KrystalWade

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5773867.Krystal_Wade

Cover Reveal | Ryan Hill

Behold! The cover for Ryan Hill’s debut YA Paranormal novel THE BOOK OF BART, coming May 22 from Curiosity Quills!

Only one thing is so powerful, so dangerous that Heaven and Hell must work together to find it: the Shard of Gabriel.

With a mysterious Black Cloud of Death hot on the shard’s trail, a desperate Heaven enlists the help of Bart, a demon who knows more about the shard than almost anyone. Six years ago, he had it in his hands. If only he’d used it before his coup to overthrow the devil failed. Now, he’s been sprung from his eternal punishment to help Samantha, an angel in training, recover the shard before the Black Cloud of Death finds it.

If Bartholomew wants to succeed, he’ll have to fight the temptation to betray Samantha and the allure of the shard. After an existence full of evil, the only way Bart can get right with Hell is to be good.

Links:

Goodreads | Website | Twitter | Facebook

Cover Reveal | Virtual Immortality

I am thrilled to be able to reveal the cover for my upcoming cyberpunk novel, Virtual Immortality by Dean from Conzpiracy Digital Arts - http://www.conzpiracy.co.uk

Virtual Immortality is scheduled for release on 5/19/2014.

Nina Duchenne walked away from a perfect life of wealth and ease to pursue a noble idea. Unfortunately, her hope of becoming a forensic investigator drowned in two years of mandatory street patrol. After one tragic night shatters her dream, she finds herself questioning the very nature of what it means to be alive.

Joey Dillon lives at the edge of a perpetual adrenaline rush. A self-styled cyber cowboy that chases thrills wherever he can find them, he is unconcerned with what will happen twenty minutes into the future. Lured into a dangerous region of cyberspace, he soon has the government of Mars trying to kill him. After fleeing to Earth, he takes refuge in places society has forgotten.

When two international agents threaten the security of West City, Nina gets command of the operation to stop them. Joey just wants to find his next meal. Voices from beyond the grave distract Nina from her pursuit, and send Joey on a mission to find out who is responsible. His suspicions lie grounded in reality while she hopes for something science cannot explain.

The spies prove more elusive than expected, convincing her they have help from a master hacker. Joey falls square in her sights with the fate of the entire West City, as well as Nina’s humanity, at risk.

Cover Reveal | James Wymore

James Wymore, friend and fellow CQ author, has a double cover release today!

Salvation

Release Date: May 16, 2014

 A man wakes on a frozen battlefield when a scavenging couple finds him among the dead. As they nurse him back to health, he is struck with the horrible realization he can’t remember who he is or anything about his past. Taken in by the kind pair, he begins helping with their farm. She even takes him to meet her family, especially her single sister.

The ideal life offered in the high mountains of Winigh is shattered when he sees a transport bringing enemy monsters to the shores below. Cut off by high snow on the pass, their fate will soon be the same as the town his company failed to protect in the last battle, if this estranged soldier cannot help them fight off the next wave of invaders. Even worse, the people of the town don’t trust this Selene soldier. He has a strange resistance to their folk magic which some say make him as dangerous as the enemies preparing to destroy them.

 

 

Exacting Essence

 

Release Date: June 12. 2014

Remember waking up late in the night after a nightmare?  Your mother holding you tight and whispering everything would be all right?  She lied.

Evil clowns haunted Megan’s dreams for years.  Even though nobody ever said she was crazy, she knew they were all thinking it.  With her life falling apart, she turns suicidal until a new therapist suggests the impossible: dreams are real.  Nightmares are living, breathing predators, feeding off dreamer’s fears by exacting essence.

Most, of course, forget theirs as soon as they wake up.  Megan is not so lucky.  She is also not so powerless.

But is even a power nurtured in her dreams enough to fight off the horrors lurking just beyond the veil of sleep?

 

Author Bio:

On a lifelong search for fantastic worlds hiding just out of sight, James Wymore writes to explore.  With three books and six short stories in print after just one year, he continues to push the boundaries of imagination.  Journey with him at http://jameswymore.wordpress.com

 Links:

Website: http://jameswymore.wordpress.com

Twitter: @JamesWymore

Facebook:  http://www.facebook.com/JasWymore

Amazon Author Page:  http://www.amazon.com/James-Wymore/e/B00BI1FZI2/

Divergent Fate #31

Risa’s thoughts drifted through the quiet dark. It had taken the “planners” three hours to come up with an idea of how to get her close to the facility. Shiro’s friends had somehow gotten a hold of an ACC shuttle with an entire shipment of missiles, each one the size of a man. She tried not to think about how much like a casket the munitions case felt. Trusting a smiling, stocky man with a trace of a Russian accent to fly her alone to a remote enemy base would have been terrifying without a hundred some odd tons of anti-aircraft warheads packed around her in similar boxes.

She put a hand on the roof, inches away from her face. Four boxes above her and five below, each with two hundred pounds of NE6 in the warhead.

Do I have a death wish?

Her coffin shuddered as the Tupolev C94 “Mul” hit a turbulent boundary layer in the atmosphere. Her hands clasped at her neck as a dozen ideas of what could go wrong at that moment flashed through her mind. The ACC was not known for spending much money on QA. Any one of those missiles might be leaking, might accidentally arm itself. One bad bump and the entire shuttle could be dust. Arms crossed over her heart felt too much like death; she held them stiff, grasping her thighs. Despite them rigging the end cap above her head as a door, a wave of panic built up.

Raziel, if you can hear me, please watch over me.

Cramped, unlit places gave her comfort for most of her life. Claustrophobia was a new experience; the want to get out of that box took all her concentration to suppress. Faces appeared like flashcards in her mind: Garrison, General Maris, the men and women around the table… Pavo. All of them were counting on her. If she succeeded, the chances of them all coming home were much greater.

Too late now, I’m committed.

Risa gripped the sides of the padded container and held her breath. Another rumble rattled everything around her. She summoned the fire to the forefront of her memory. Her father wanted Mars to be free. Someone high up the food chain in the UCF had ordered him killed for helping the MLF. Her trembling ceased. If she were in danger, Raziel would have warned her.

*  *  *

Comm chatter snapped her out of her near-sleep. The pilot spoke in Russian; a passable translation in English text scrolled at the underside of her vision. He spoke without hesitation, going through the routine as though he had done it dozens of times.

“Phaethontis-3, this is shuttle CM-11, requesting clearance to land. Manifest AC-94410.”

They exchanged a series of challenge/response codes in Russian, which her system butchered.

“Standby CM-11, verifying.”

Something’s wrong. Risa shifted to stare at the button they told her would open the hatch. The pilot sounds like real ACC. What if they sold me out?

She stared at the moving letters. “Confirm approach vector. I need to do a rapid drop and dust. I’ve got six more drops.”

“Understood, CM-11. Would be nice if the idiots making the schedules had to ride along now and then to understand how fast those mules go.”

Her pilot chuckled. “Yeah. Carrying weapons they send me all over the place. When it’s booze, they don’t rush me.”

Both men laughed.

“Landing vector uploaded. Follow the arrow. A crew will be waiting for you.”

“Acknowledged,” said her pilot.

Moments later, thruster whine pierced the silence as the Mul decelerated; inertia squeezed her headfirst against the wall until the shuttle came to a halt in midair. Her stomach flipped when the shuttle descended in a sharp vertical drop. Everything rocked as its weight settled into the landing pads. The low roar of idling ion engines permeated the cargo hold with a tooth-rattling shake. Her eyes darted about, racing through the menu controls in the e-suit visor. A small display box appeared as if a holo-panel floated several feet in front of her. Light from the setting sun invaded the hold as the rear doors opened; her vision provided by tiny cameras embedded in the imitation missile carrier.

Loaders rolled out of the dust, up the ramp into the bay. She clenched her jaw; surrounded by explosives in the middle of nowhere, and possibly betrayed, pushed her past fear into feeling nothing. Breathing ceased as her container shook, with a loud, metallic bang. Gravity shifted in a slight tilt toward her legs. In the little window projected on the e-suit’s visor, she watched the interior of the shuttle slide away. As dangerous as it was, leaving the shuttle filled her with anxiety. She found herself praying to Raziel for the next fifteen minutes as the loader cart made its way over rocky ground.

Every time the lift ran over a stone, she flew into one wall or the other. How do these missiles tolerate this? The operator is an idiot, or careless, or a careless idiot. She suppressed the urge to scream as a pothole launched her into the roof of her cage. An abrupt swivel turn rolled her to one side, followed by her body going headfirst into the wall when it braked hard. Risa flung her arms up, bracing against the end cap; terror that her helmet would hit the button and give her away stalled her breath in her throat.

Her eyes opened at the whump of the palette setting down. After a few seconds of rest, she rolled onto her stomach and stared past the exterior view at the release button on the end cap. At that moment, Pavo and the others sat in a pair of light troop transports far enough away to evade sensor detection. One finger circled the button that would open the hatch. It stopped moving when the reality of where she was chipped through her detachment.

The ACC wouldn’t kill her, they had other uses for a female prisoner.

The e-suit’s gloves creaked into fists. Horror stories from recovered POWs as well as women who defected flashed through her head. She could not afford to make a mistake here, unless it was colossal enough not to matter.

*  *  *

She spent the next hour daydreaming about Shiro and Pavo, wondering which one of them would risk themselves to get her out if things went bad. Risa folded her arms and let the helmet rest on them, grumbling to herself. What is wrong with me? I don’t need a protector. I can handle myself.

Once the sun vanished into the horizon, she blinked at the visor, cycling the view over the three exterior cameras. The idea worked; the palette of ordinance was outside the main compound, closer to the launch platform.

I guess they don’t want these things anywhere near them either.

Forty feet tall, the orbital defense installation blocked the moonlight and cast a darker shade of night over the stack of boxes. A turret-shaped pod, wide and flat, perched at the top of a truncated pyramid of gleaming plastisteel. Every so often, it rotated left or right sending vibrations rumbling through the ground.

She tapped the button, causing the end to open on tiny, motorized struts. Her hands met the ground first, absorbing her weight as she slipped out of the tight capsule. She sat with her back against the pile for several minutes of quiet, listening for a sign they had seen her. When nothing happened, she closed the hatch and peered around the edge. One man leaned against the far wall of the enormous launcher, his posture said he’d have been sucking on a Nicohaler if he wasn’t in an e-suit.

Guess they are pretty lax out here. Risa squinted, debating killing him. Don’t let your guard down. Out this far also means it won’t go well for me if I’m captured, no oversight. She exhaled a patch of fog onto her visor. They’re not all like that. Some of them might want to defect.

She shot a look at the black sky and mouthed another prayer for Raziel to watch over her. As soon as the man’s helmet sagged forward, she jogged away from the facility. A map of the area, also from Shiro’s people, appeared to her left by virtue of her cybernetic eyes. Her objective, the tunnel, opened at a vent two hundred meters from the launcher. Halfway there, she got up to a full sprint.

Metal glinted in the starlight, drawing her to a trench dug out from a metal grille. Risa vaulted the edge, landing on her knees out of sight below the surface. Bands of static scrolled over the feed from the missile case; a sign of the little transmitter struggling with distance. Enough of a signal came through to reveal calm―no one had seen her. It could have been luck, lazy guards, or her skill.

Risa thanked Raziel anyway.

She flipped a panel on her left forearm open, keying out a text-only message on an ancient PCM transmitter the ACC would not be looking for: inpos – standby.

Unbreathable wind lofted dust out of the embedded keypad and over the cyan LED screen. Her chest tightened twenty seconds later at the lack of reply. She found herself sucking on the water line before she remembered what she was drinking. It tasted pure enough to suppress the gag reflex.

Her arm vibrated. Words had appeared: rgr hold pos standby 4 go.

She stared through the slats into the thirty-inch square tunnel. If they launched a missile, the shaft would become a crematorium.

Risa picked at the little screen on her arm, and waited.

D0 on NetGalley

Curiosity Quills has added Division Zero to NetGalley!

I added a link to NetGalley on this page. Scroll toward the bottom and click on the NetGalley icon.

Writing | On Filtering

Filtering ― or, how to keep your reader at arm’s length.

I’ve been doing a fair amount of proofreading / light editing and have found myself talking about filtering a lot as of late. Since I’ve been looking for stuff to put here, it seemed like I could burn some pixels in rambling on about it. Readers may not notice filtering in the same sense it jumps out to a writer/editor, however, they will notice the effect it has on their immersion. A story that has a lot of filtering makes the reader feel as though they are watching from a distance. However, like many “best practices” in writing, it is not an absolute case of good and bad.

What Is Filtering?

The simplest explanation is when a writer “filters” their world through the presence of their character rather than just presents the setting to the reader. The writer inserts the character between the reader and the action with certain phrases: he saw, he felt, he heard, he knew. (There are quite a few other ones, but you get the point.)

What is happening here is the writer is describing their character experiencing something. They are not allowing the reader into that experience, instead keeping them at a safe distance and pointing. See that? Caleb just heard scratching noises and then saw a pack of rats swarm out of that trash right at him. (It feels like the reader is standing at the far end of the street watching Caleb, safe from the rats.)

Why is it bad?

By inserting that extra layer (the character) between the reader and what is happening, it lessens the immersion of a scene. The reader is observing someone rather than sharing the experience with the character. While filtering is not “bad” in the same way that typos or grammatical errors are, it (much like adverbs) weakens the writing.

Here is an excerpt from my short story “A Ghost Among Fireflies” as originally written:

     The strange feeling of having been here before beckoned her. As if by memory, she navigated a minefield of old toys, broken computer equipment, and the shattered remnants of once-furniture, now thick with mold. She glanced at a desk to her left, her eyes at the level of its surface. An old, broken holo-terminal there glimmered in the weak light from the window, reflected curtains the only image on the screen.

Here is the same excerpt modified to use filtering. Does it feel different to read?

     She felt strange, as if she had been here before. She remembered the room, navigating a minefield of old toys, broken computer equipment, and the shattered remnants of once-furniture. She could smell the thick mold on everything, even a desk to her left as tall as she was. Atop the desk, she saw an old, broken holo-terminal, its dark screen reflecting from the weak light in the window.

Aside from ‘she saw’ getting repetitious, the second passage doesn’t put the reader into the room with the character as much as lifts them far enough away to observe the character experiencing the scene.

Is it always bad?

Sometimes, it is more important to point out that the character became aware of something. Your protagonist can approach a room containing something dangerous (let’s use a rattlesnake) and notice it before he walks in. Jake paused by the door when he saw a rattlesnake lurking under the bed.

When calling attention to the character’s perception of something is more important than just setting a scene, filtering is not a bad thing. Here, the intent is to indicate the character has sensed something―when whether or not they do is the focal point of the moment.

Sometimes, words often considered signs of filtering are the most direct way to convey something, or to preserve meaning. “He had heard that before, many times” would not carry the same connotation as “They said that before, many times.” The first way makes the character seem as though they are tired of hearing it, linking a sentiment to the idea. The second example is a statement of fact, lacking the characterization.

The Bottom Line

In a scene where it is not important to point out the character is aware of something, (the reader will expect a character is aware of their surroundings unless told otherwise) avoiding filtering lets your reader immerse themselves in your story and experience it alongside the character. They are no longer “reading a book” but existing in the world you have created.

It also prevents them from getting fatigued from seeing the phrase “she heard” or “she saw” repeated.

There is no clear-cut “this is wrong” or “this is right” regarding filtering. Anything works, sparingly. (Even adverbs, which I loathe.) Overuse of filtering will lift your reader right out of your narrative and leave them watching with binoculars from the sidelines.

 

Divergent Fate #30

Warm clouds of steam carried the taste of metal over Risa’s face. The plain bench upon which she sat no longer felt cold. She slouched forward, elbows on knees, staring at droplets of water gathering at the tip of her nose. Each drip struck the metal floor in a starburst of clean that displaced the grit between her feet. Distant voices rattled in from the vent shaft: comm traffic, heavy objects moving, children yelling, Garrison having a meltdown about orphans in the safe house.

Risa grinned at his ranting, leaning a little to the right to finish drawing a smiley face in the dirt with the next drop. She rubbed her face and peered through her fingers at the bathtub. The water is still warm; I could soak longer.

Rubber soles squished outside the door of the tiny washroom. She had already filled her lungs to answer before the faint knock.

“Risa, are you decent?”

“Not for a long time,” she said. “I’m almost ready.”

The door squeaked; cold air blew over her back. “Oh, sorry.”

“It’s alright, Pavo. You’ve already seen every inch of my bare ass.” She sat up. Wet hair dragged across her back as she looked over her shoulder.

Pavo had turned oblique to the gap in the door, holding something. At her encouragement, he slipped into the room and set a dark grey vest on the bench to her left. She picked at the delicate material divided into segmented pouches; pinching it revealed thin tubing embedded within. Pavo folded his arms, not quite looking at her.

“Garrison said you’d be going with us on this one as a scout. Raided the MDF armory. Brought a bunch of PWRS units, we’re going to be in e-suits for quite a while.”

She picked the PWRS up and held it out, facing her. It resembled a one-piece swimsuit, full of electronics. “Never worn one of these things. Do they work?”

“Yeah, as long as you keep to liquid nutrients. Good for about a hundred hours before you have to swap out the crystal catch. Hardest part is to remember to stop wetting your pants when you take it off.”

“I don’t want to drink my own piss.”

Pavo’s laughter stalled when he realized he’d looked right at her. She showed little reaction. “It’s not piss anymore by the time it gets to the feed line. It’s necessary to preserve as much water as possible. The PWRS doesn’t reservoir liquids, you have to drink it.”

She scowled, standing. “Is there anything nanobots can’t do?” She slipped into the vest, bundling it against her chest with her back turned. “Zip me?”

He tugged at the shoulders to adjust the fit before pulling a metal slider from the small of her back upward. His hand went around and patted just above her left hip. “The crystalloid solids build up in this pouch.” He traced his finger over a small zipper. “The filtration process happens here…” Fingers traced over her stomach. “There is a small pouch here that holds drinkable water once it puts the elements back together.” His hand stopped just below her right breast.

Risa tensed as his touch sent waves through her body, grateful he could not see her face. Zone up, Girl. You can’t melt any time a man looks at you. She took a deep breath. Only Pavo. And… Risa thought about Shiro, pondering how he had made her feel lonely and vulnerable. Pavo had the same effect. He carried me to the med center.

She turned with her eyes half closed, lips parting, but found him two steps away digging her armor out of a small locker. Risa grabbed her elbow across her chest, eyes down. He didn’t even notice. The flutter of rubbery material on the bench almost made her jump.

“Your new friend gave us some serious hardware for this. Maris is impressed. A dozen MPRG-9s.”

Risa’s confusion triggered a subconscious command to her NIU, which in turn linked to MarsNet. Four seconds after wondering what an MPRG-9 was, a schematic of a 3mm magnetically accelerated projectile rifle appeared in her field of view. Not much larger than a full-sized assault rifle, they would tear through any body armor the ACC fielded on Mars as well as pose a threat to light vehicles.

She shot Pavo a worried look. “What are we getting involved with?”

He pondered as she sat and pulled her ballistic stealth suit on over the PWRS. “Whoever this Shiro guy is, he’s got serious connections. Those rifles don’t usually find their way up to Mars. Most of the ACC defenses are tuned to dissipating energy weapons. They’re not civilian legal on Earth either; cops get testy about weapons that make their armor useless.”

“I’m not sure I could handle one of those guns, they’re huge.” She stood, pulling the side zipper up to the corner of her jaw.

“You won’t need one. Garrison wants to send you in quiet, ahead of time to take out the automated defenses and clear the way for a strike team. If everything goes well, you’ll be well removed from the fighting.”

Risa looked at him, trying to pull some manner of emotional undercurrent from his words. Protective? Chauvinistic? She smirked, unable to tell and shoved her locker closed, boots still inside. Her twin Hotaru-6 pistols clattered in the harness she carried into the hallway. Barefoot, she navigated serpentine cables, scattered supplies, and playing children. A few kids, recent arrivals from the abandoned tunnels, smiled and waved at her as she went by, Pavo trailing. At the end of the corridor, she passed through a manually operated door and out onto a catwalk surrounding the round operations room.

Six people sat at consoles, faces lit by multicolored holograms, coordinating MLF activity across settled Mars. One woman spoke German at a low whisper, another man rattled in Chinese at a contact embedded in a corporation somewhere on the other side of the planet. A man in the back guided someone through the tunnels of an ACC settlement two thousand miles away.

“Chinese?” Risa muttered to Pavo as she descended a curved staircase to the sunken floor. “I didn’t think the ACC got China.”

“They didn’t.” Pavo caught up to her beside a table full of large rifles. “They have independent holdings in the south. UCF respects their sovereignty and the ACC gets spanked every time they try something.”

Risa dumped her pistol harness on the table and hefted one of the rifles. “These things are ridiculous.” She grunted, aiming at the ceiling. “Too heavy. Probably knock me on my ass if I fired it.”

Pavo nodded. “Magnets. No recoil at all.”

A holo-map table occupied the center of the room. General Maris and Garrison stood at one side, surrounded by the men and women who were about to carry out Shiro’s request. All had enviro-suits on, but not sealed up. Risa trudged to the racks by the processor cabinets and helped herself to a mars-red garment. She stepped into the attached boots, secured the straps, and shrugged the suit up over her shoulders.

With a helmet under her left arm, she joined the group studying the map. Everyone looked at her. Risa broke eye contact, grabbing her harness and putting it on over the e-suit. They still all think I’m Cat-6.

“Hey,” said a brown-haired woman with a scar across the bridge of her nose. “I hope your angel is really up there, we’re gonna need him.”

She looked up, unsure if she should smile or feel mocked. One man rolled his eyes, but most of them nodded.

“Risa,” said Garrison, pointing at the holographic rendition of the Martian desert. “We’ve identified your point of entry. “You will go in through this output grating here.”

“That’s a launch vent, sir,” said one of the men. “If they fire while she’s inside…”

She studied the map, pulling her fingers over the glass to move the image. “I can clear that tunnel in about four minutes. We’re tapped into UCF traffic control, shouldn’t be a problem to make sure they have no flying targets for a little while.”

“That’s the spirit,” said General Maris. “You all could take a lesson in courage from her.”

Risa squinted at him. You’d send your own children to their deaths without a second thought. You wouldn’t care if I burned to a crisp.

“It’s not courage, sir; she’s got a death wish. She just doesn’t care.”

Everyone got quiet. Risa’s stare at the floor did little to disprove Javier’s accusation.

Pavo put a hand on her shoulder. Inside, she collapsed; somehow, she kept her face stoic.

“She’s not like that at all. If that was true, she’d had plenty of opportunities not to come home before.”

“Maybe the angel saved her ass, eh Pav?” Javier grinned.

“Alright, enough,” barked Garrison.

Risa straightened; pointing at the holo-map. “I gain entry to the compound via the missile exhaust system. From there I move to the control house here”―she tapped the display atop a steel building―“is where I can disable the perimeter sensors and EM mines, as well as the automated turrets and their communications.” She glanced at a tall black man. “Donovan, when you see the facility go dark, that’s your signal.”

He grinned, resting an MPRG-9 over his shoulder. “Yes, ma’am.”

“How are we handling prisoners?” asked Donovan.

“This is an ACC facility. It’s safe to assume at least twenty percent of their staff is only loyal for fear of death. Secure them and we’ll evaluate on a case by case basis. This place is remote enough where we’ll have time.” Garrison looked into nowhere for a moment, listening to a message coming over an implanted comm. “Alright, everyone. Your chariot has arrived. Suit up.”

Risa picked her helmet off the table and started to follow the crowd, but stopped as she bumped shoulders with Pavo.

He looked into her eyes. “Stay safe out there.”

Kiss him. Risa glanced at his boots, letting her hand slide down his arm. “You keep yourself alive too.”

Divergent Fate #29

Risa sat on the edge of the bed, one arm across her lap, one hanging limp beside her right boot. Three of the five fasteners slacked open, her hand stalled by doubt. The sound of Shiro changing in the bathroom distracted her; boosted ears registered every motion, breath, and brush of cloth.

What am I doing? Eyes closed, she exhaled through her nose. I have to find money before that idiot Maris does something stupid. Those kids don’t deserve a life like mine. Cool air brushed over her feet as she slipped her boots off and rubbed marks left in her skin.

Click.

The delicate sound of an M3 plug snapping in place brought her gaze to a shadow stretching over the carpet from the bathroom door. A knot formed in her gut. When she had first seen Shiro, a cursory scan had shown no cyberware. You are being paranoid. No, you’re being careful.

She reached into her purse, threading her fingers around the Hotaru. “On the net?”

Shiro nudged the bathroom door to the side, peeking through a three-inch gap. A dark grey-blue thread ran over his shoulder, glinting metallic in the light. “Making reservations.” His smile weakened. “I was hoping for it to be a surprise. How did you know I was online?”

“Our electronic surveillance people told me you were on an outbound link. I got concerned.”

His smile returned. “Clever. They should soon tell you my mind has wandered to the net lobby of The Starlight.”

“Never heard of it.” She averted her gaze.

“It’s nice. Strictly tank-grown food, no OmniSoy.”

Risa withdrew her hand, fingers slid over the gun and pulled a pair of violet wafers from the purse. Each resembled the sole of a shoe, a quarter inch thick with a narrow strap at one end. Electronic surveillance people? Where did that come from? He either bought it or knows I’m an idiot. She dropped them on the carpet, stuck her toes in the straps, and stood.

As soon as her weight pressed down, her NetMini lit up at the same moment the stylized word “Mems” appeared in midair. A small pie shape rotated below it next to the word “Syncing.” She opted to link them to her implanted comm. The logo shrank into a small vertical line in the lower left corner of her vision. An indicator slid upward a quarter of the way, nudged by mental command. The Mems changed shape, stretching into one-inch heels.

“Interesting,” said Shiro. “Do they know any other tricks?”

She laughed, nervousness slid into giddiness. “No, just how tall they get. I don’t expect that Starlight place would care for my boots.”

*   *   *

When the host showed them to a corner booth tucked into the wall with a wraparound quarter-circle white bench, Shiro had given her a questioning glance. She hadn’t complained then, but sitting close enough to feel his body heat through twenty minutes of awkward silence made her regret it.

“Is something wrong?”

She made a face, not quite a smile. “You keep asking me that. I’m okay.”

“You have a look about you as though you’re to be killed at any moment.”

“I might be.” Her fork slipped from her grasp and she folded her hands in her lap. “I don’t like being out in the open. If I am recognized by the MDF, I’ll be lucky to live long enough to get to my execution.”

“What happened to you is partially their fault. Your father was murdered when you were small. They may take that into consideration.”

“I doubt it.” She tried to rub warmth into her arms.

“So, why are we here then?”

“I was hoping you’d see your way to helping us out with the orphans. Even if I have to―”

Fingers on bare shoulder paralyzed her. In a second, she imagined the perfect angle for claws to the throat and the best path to exit. Sensing her fight-or-flight response, the Mems went flat.

“Risa, I did not ask Garrison to send you as some kind of bribe. I am aware of your circumstances and was only hoping to offer you a few moments’ escape.”

“You’re rich, why would you bother with a broken doll? You can buy a new one.”

Shiro pulled his hand back. “My finances are impressive on Mars. Where I live, I am a few degrees less than comfortable. I do not want for basics, but York is expensive. I’m not sure what you’ve heard, but I would not regard myself as wealthy.”

“So, you don’t want me? You don’t want the little rat in the tunnels?”

The lack of emotion in her face and voice drew a sympathetic expression on his features. “Risa, I would not dare ask you to offer your body in trade for anything. I thought I saw another wounded soul adrift in the universe, and had a chance to offer her some peace.”

Risa leaned against his shoulder. Inches from him, faint white lines shimmered in and out beneath the skin of his neck; her eyes attempting a metallurgical scan. His smile turned her suspicion into guilt, but only for a moment.

“Why can’t I see your cyberware?”

He drew a breath to speak, but paused as a manager approached to ask if everything was okay. Once the woman left, Shiro offered Risa his hand. “Idealists are often the first people exploited by those who wish to keep―or gain power.”

She found sadness in his eyes, and confusion in her heart. Without thinking, she put her hand in his.

“I was a young soldier with impressive scores. They approached me for ‘special projects’ teams they claimed were intended to go into Europe and help the resistance. Half of the ‘resistance’ wasn’t old enough to buy liquor in the UCF.” Shiro glanced away. “It’s as bad on Earth as it is here, worse because everyone hides it behind NewsNet smiles.”

“You’re covert ops?” She went rigid.

“No, not that dark.” He chuckled. “Just special forces, but not anymore. I got out as soon as I can. I’ve got some dirt hidden away in the GlobeNet that will find its way into the light if anything happens to me. They leave me be, and I don’t go looking for trouble. I’ve come here to Mars to try and assuage my guilt. We’ve both wound up in situations beyond our control. It’s not inescapable.”

Risa picked at her fish. How could he know? She kept her mood from being audible. “I’m not convinced more killing is the way to save Mars, but I will do what I have to in order to free her.”

“Unfortunately, change such as you desire rarely comes without blood. It’s easier when your cause is just.”

“You mentioned an operation?” She found her appetite.

“There is an ACC forward outpost close enough to be a threat to non-military craft. It is primarily an anti-aircraft camp with enough firepower to dent a mid-sized starship. The good news is that it’s out in the middle of nowhere and the ACC won’t be able to reinforce the position before your people get out.”

“What’s the bad news?”

Shiro chuckled. “It’s out in the middle of nowhere.”