The Preacher Man - Cover

The Preacher Man

Copyright© 2006 by hammingbyrd7

Chapter 6: An Explosive Encounter

Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 6: An Explosive Encounter - In the far future, the Earth is ruled by a single global theocracy, and a young student of history learns that in every revolution, there is one man with a vision.

Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Heterosexual   Science Fiction   First   Pregnancy   Slow  

Time: September 27, 8235 9:47 PM

Well, it took more than three months of dogged detective work, but I finally solved the mystery of Qataban's monitor disconnects. I now have both the public answers and the private answers. The public answers have already been transmitted back to Jizari, where they earned me warm congratulations and a flight back to Jizari at the end of the month. My assignment here at Qataban was over.

I was riding an ore train back to Qataban from one of the mining outposts. Much of the refining had already been done at the mining site, and our cargo bays were heavy with almost pure metal. Our mining train had the most powerful locomotives in the world, but we were still right at the limit for weight capacity.

The train crew was a mixed lot of engine laborers and managers from the Rail Guild, plus a young CL-2 Priest to lead the evening prayers. At first the crew seemed terrified about having a CL-11 Security commander hitch a ride with them, even though I insisted that I was only along for the ride and that they should just go about with their normal duties. I finally broke the ice by turning the Prayer of Weakness into an informal class on Tae Kwon Do, and taught some of my favorite throws. The mood really lightened up after that. The Priest's closing blessing for the night was quite touching.

Qataban is such an interesting place. It's not the lush, tropical paradise of Hadramawt, not the rich and powerful township of Jizari, not the forest wonder of Anqara, but it does have an intensely competitive spirit and a mountain beauty that is all its own. I will miss my time here, and my friends. I'll never forget the look of gratitude from Tamir, the CL- 10 Security station head, when I suggested he keep his post a few days ago, even though I now outrank him. It will look better on his resume if his command is unbroken, and he will be at his fifth and final gate for promotion to CL-11 next year.

CL-11, I can hardly believe it for myself. My Lion rides are moving me through life so fast! Was I a naive child less than a year ago? It seems impossible.

After his blessing, the Priest had turned the Hour of Repose into a Prayer of quiet meditation, setting us free to consider our lives in peace as the train chugged the last of its journey home. My fingers came up and caressed my new Class emblem, a diamond red at the bottom, green at the upper left, and blue at the upper right. Assuming I'm successful on my next Ride, both the green and blue will change to yellow next month. Otherwise I'll wear my current colors until I die.

And the public answer to the mystery? There was a freakish incompatibility in the complex overlaps of procedures between the Guilds, in particular driven by the fact that implementation in the field is not always exactly the same procedure of the theoretical textbook explanations of how things are supposed to be done. The errors were all very innocent, and the corrective solutions are now in place. The problem is solved.

And the private answer to the mystery? So far I've kept the private knowledge completely to myself. I have a perfect excuse. Everything I've seen and deduced has a clear and reported explanation. It's only in my personal examination of the combination of operations codes and security logs that I spotted the subtle signatures of intentional deception. My intimate knowledge of how I tricked the network at Anqara as a boy provided me a fleeting glimpse of a secret organization of unknown purpose. Its size is also unknown, but it has to be more than a few people. I caught a glimpse of a secret organization, and for now this glimpse is visible only within my mind.

After the ore train pulled into Qataban, I said good night to the crew and started to hike back to my room at Security HQ. I was halfway there, passing through a very old and semi-used industrial part of the township, when it seemed the entire world exploded around me and I descended into a fiery pit.

There were loose cables that I managed to scissor with my legs, enabling me to brake my fall. Some sort of explosion, industrial chemicals I thought wildly. The blast didn't have quite the concentrated punch of military explosives. I had plunged more than ten meters below street level to land on a bed of filthy debris, mixtures of stone and old iron and destroyed wooden shelves. Papers and books were scattered everywhere. I guessed I had been walking over an ancient city archive when the explosion occurred.

There was no power, but the area began to be dimly lit with the red glow of a fire at one end of the debris. There were shattered wooden shelves and paper books everywhere. I had to get out of here! I stood and looked around, trying to see a way out, amazed I seemed unhurt except for bruises. Yes! These loose cables, not yet near the fire! I could just climb my way out of this! And then I heard a hammering sound, as if one piece of debris was being struck rapidly against another. Was someone down here with me? I judged the fire and the cables. I had a few minutes. I went to investigate the sound.

I found her down the slope of debris. She was in an Initiate burqa, showing that she very close to her marriage gate. The left part of her body was encased in the debris, and her head and neck were cruelly pinned and twisted. She was being strangled by her burqa, and had picked up a wooden shard in her right hand. She was banging out a pleading sound for help.

I took the thin throwing knife I keep strapped to my calf and cut the head veil from her burqa. Exposing her like this was a serious crime for both of us, but she would have died otherwise. In the growing red glow of the fire, I felt a bundle of soft hair cascade around my fingers. I left her gasping for air and tried to free the rest of her body. Damnation! Her left leg from just below the hip was firmly wedged in the debris. This would take a while. I looked around hastily for a lever.

The young woman recovered quickly, looked around and saw the approaching fire. She started to tug uselessly at her leg as she realized the danger she was in. She saw me looking around for a lever and probably thought I was searching for a way to leave.

"Oh, don't leave me! Don't leave me to burn!" she pleaded. She jerked again at her leg. It was wedged tight. I shook my head in dismay. We didn't have much time, and I thought I would need both a lever and her cooperation to have any chance at all of saving her. I was afraid she was getting hysterical.

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