Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Science Fiction, Robot, Extra Sensory Perception, Slow,
Desc: Sex Story: Chapter 1 - The story of a young slave named Aiden who seeks his freedom from an oppressive society, and eventually seeks retribution on those who have wronged him.
A simple word. A word that means almost nothing by itself, but must draw meaning from the words attached to it. A word that was the focus of one person's life.
Freedom was to young Aiden the only reason for living. It was his only goal, the only thing he had worked towards since he had come to understand the concept. It was also the one thing that the society around him seemed bent on denying him, no matter how hard he strived for it.
Aiden was a slave. Perhaps he was one of the smartest slaves... or indeed, maybe even one of the smartest humans... to have ever been born, but he was still just a slave. It did not matter that when he was a mere six months of age he began walking, or that at eight months he was able to utilize patterned speech at a level that most two year olds could not. It did not matter that by the time he was four, he was able to read at the level of most educated ten year olds... even though slaves were forbidden from being taught to read. Public notice of that event had launched an investigation on the part of his masters, which had revealed that young Aiden had an IQ far higher than any slave deprived of an education should have possessed.
Nevertheless, no matter what, he was still only a slave. His higher intelligence gained him nothing except a few extra restrictions. The graphical/verbal instructional handheld computer that all slaves carried with them to have their orders delivered to them via simple language and pictures was modified for Aiden, with special security encryption to keep him from getting around its various firewalls and codes to access the Masters' central mainframe and learn more than he was allowed to. He was never allowed access into the library of the house, was always kept outside for manual labor, and was not permitted to touch any unsecured computer with access to the system-wide web. He also had a special titanium band locked onto his head, which would send small charges directly into his brain if he acted up, with the ability to put him down permanently if need be.
Of course, as any incredibly intelligent freedom-craving being would have done, Aiden had found a way around his restrictions. He managed to break through the security on his handheld when he was about ten, downloading and reading everything he could find. Technical manuals, Shakespeare, Dante, Milton, the Bible, the qu'Ran, Homer, a few works by the first author from Mars, Carl Reid, and the various science fiction works by Clarke, Heinlein, and the Xangris favorite Mish'ran Q'tral were some of the things he assimilated in his first month of browsing. Later he studied more monotonous items such as the Venus Imperial Accords, modern law (several thousand pages of it), and every single byte of information he could access on slaves, slave holding, and slave security procedures. By the twelfth year of his life, he had managed to redesign his handheld with scavenged processors and parts from all over his Masters' house, tripling its efficiency. He even managed to crack several SolNet security protocols and gain access to more in-depth information on ship design, theoretical astrophysics, and other tidbits of knowledge that he believed would eventually aid him in his escape.
The only thing that still stood in Aiden's way was the small strip of titanium that encircled his head. One charge from it, and he might have all of a tenth of a second to realize he was going to die before his consciousness was torn from existence. Therefore, when his fifteenth year as a slave approached and with it the time for the band to be taken off and replaced with a slightly larger and more powerful one, Aiden knew that his only chance had arrived. It had to be during the transfer of bands, or never.
Thus, Aiden plotted as he surveyed the grounds on which he had been forced to toil for all of his life. He carefully planned each step, thinking of every contingency of every scenario that he could imagine. Of course, there were still limitless ways for it all to go wrong, for it to end in death or the continuance of bondage... but Aiden had to take the chance. If he ended back up in slavery, then there had been no harm in trying. As for death, it could not compare to slavery. If that was the only way for him to escape the humiliation of being held in bondage to another human being, then so be it. He would welcome it with open arms.
"Aiden from bondage will deliver Aiden," he muttered beneath his breath, modifying a line from the Tragedy of Julius Caesar.
"Come with me," a sub-Master, one of the puppets of the true "Masters" ordered Aiden, "and be quick about it. You know I would love nothing better than to scramble a few more of your brain cells today."
Aiden nodded, quickly hustling to keep up with the sub-Master's demanding pace. He made sure not to look up towards eye level, even when facing the back of the sub-Master's head, lest he turn around; his vision only focusing on the ground before him. He did not speak, did not do anything that might have drawn attention to him. This was one day he could not afford to be knocked unconscious by the damnable strip of control that ringed his cranium.
He was quickly taken into the spartan medical chambers that the slaves were allowed access to, the sub-Master placing him on an inclined metal table and locking Aiden's hands and feet into cuffs. Their magnetic locks clicked into place loudly, reminding Aiden of how many things could possibly go wrong.
A stocky, weathered medical drone floated over towards Aiden with several instruments attached to its six multi-function limbs. One of the six limbs reached out with an injection gun, pressing the load of anesthetics directly into Aiden's neck via high-pressure dermal transfer. He had barely a second to crunch down hard on the pill he had stolen and hidden in the back of his mouth, releasing a powerful stimulant that kept him conscious enough to do what he had to do when the time came.
The sub-Master glared at the drone as he was about to step outside of the medical facility. "When you file your report, I watched him the entire time, got it? If the Wallace's get word that I didn't keep my eyes on that little sack of shit, I'll slice you apart and turn you into an oven."
The drone barely had time to nod as the sub-Master stalked out the door, clearly more than a little upset at the prospect of having to play babysitter for troublesome slaves that should have been put down long ago in his opinion.
It took a little less than twenty minutes for the medical drone to remove the control device from around Aiden's head and to heal the scars that it had left printed upon his skin. When one of the drone's arms reached out to grab the new control strip, Aiden made his move.
His eyes snapped open, his mind fully alert. For a machine, the drone displayed a good facsimile of being surprised.
"Access code level Alpha, command override code four-eight-seven-six. Disable magnetic locks on restraint bed four!"
If the drone was taken aback at Aiden still being awake, then it was most definitely jarred by Aiden's use of the Masters' command override codes. Of course, it immediately tried to signal an alert, but it never even had time to begin before a magnetic decoupler that it had been using to remove the strip from Aiden's head was brought harshly against its metal cranium. A bolt of electromagnetic energy coursed through the drone's circuits, sending sparks flying from its primary communications relay antenna.
Then Aiden was off. He sprinted through the hallways of the house, hurriedly making his way into the massive hangar that was placed above the sixth story of the east wing. He tried not to look suspicious as he punched in an access code to the Masters' finest attack corvette, climbing up the ramp before anyone could have time to identify him.
Aiden was in the middle of powering up the ship for lift-off, checking over all of the systems as fast as he could manage, when all hell broke loose. Sirens blared, the gigantic titanium shutters slammed closed in front of the hangar's entrance, and an order to kill Aiden on sight was issued over the radio channels all at the same time. He could not wait any longer, pre-flight check be damned. He punched the thruster control in unison with the forward laser cannons, tearing a hole in the shutters through which the sixty-meter long corvette raced. It was less than two minutes before he hit the boundary to space, and allowed himself to relax somewhat.
Aiden rubbed his temples gingerly, leaning back against his chair and breathing a sigh of relief. He had not really thought that he would actually escape. It had been a long shot at best.
"It's not over yet," a deep voice grumbled from directly behind Aiden. He knew immediately from years of receiving the man's orders that it was one of his two Masters.
Aiden's blood chilled in his veins, darkness creeping into the edges of his vision as he began to detach his awareness from reality. He did not even notice it when the cold titanium of a high-power laser rifle was pressed against the back of his skull.
Something welled up inside of him... something suppressed deep within his mind was emerging, and it felt magnificent. A fury engulfed Aiden's being, his muscles tightening in preparation for his last act of defiance.
"If I am to go," Aiden thought, "then at least I have seen something beautiful, something that I can truly appreciate. I have been free, if only for a few minutes at best. And now I am seeing the Earth from space... I am looking down upon those who would have looked down upon me."
Aiden could not help but smile as tears filled his eyes, and he took in what he could of the planet's beauty before slowly turning away from the transparent steel pane that revealed the mountains, clouds, and blue wonderment of the Earth below. If it were to be the last thing he ever saw, then he would die satisfied.
"I could let fly a thousand choice invectives and curses right now. I could strike out with my tongue, cut you down a little psychologically before you finally claimed victory in your demented little game. But words do so little. I prefer to let my actions speak for me!"
With what he believed would be the last movements of his muscles, the last breaths that he took in, and the last thoughts he possessed, Aiden lunged. Towards the cold steel of a rifle, and towards the man that had held him as a non-human servant for the entirety of his life.
Freedom: It felt good to be free.