Chapter 98

Colonel Matthews' voice on the radio: "Kill your lights and go dark."

Lieutenant Mayfield switched the Escalade's lights off, as did the driver in the front vehicle. "He isn't wearing a helmet," Mayfield said as his visor slid into place, its night vision equipment giving him a perfect view of the road and Colonel Matthews in front of him. "We have heavy cloud cover. It's dark as shit. How in the fuck is he going to see?"

Carter chuckled as his visor slid into place also. Hitting the button to lower his window, he poured his coffee out and put the cup on the floorboard. As the window came back up, No way to drink my coffee with the visor in place. Oh, well. Then to the Lieutenant, "I've learned to do exactly as he says. He's personally saved my ass twice. By making the right decisions, or smelling out an ambush, hell, no telling how many times he's saved the whole team."

"Yeah, but he got himself shot back on that planet, didn't he?"

"That was a couple years ago. We underestimated those aliens — all of us did. None of us had seen weapons there that could shoot accurately that far. It should never have happened. Bottom line; he's human. He fucked up and gave that sniper a shot. Sarge came up with the idea of putting Colonel Matthews in that ... coffin-like thing that turned out to be a healing chamber. Of course, the Colonel eventually brought us home on a starship. I'll bet that grabbed the General's ass," he chuckled. Then, "Damn, I wanted that coffee."

Ignoring Carter's comment, "Maybe I should have told the medics to follow in their vehicle. He's going to fall and hurt himself..." As a satellite came over the horizon with its detection equipment adding to the information he already had, Mayfield paused as he listened to the update. Then on the troopers' channel, barely keeping the humor out of his voice, he repeated, "Within two hundred yards of the road, we have two elk in the first mile, a moose and three deer during the third mile and two more deer near mile five. There are two people in bed in the first house, then it's more than three miles to the second house, where there are three people in two rooms of that house. Confirmation on the people in the houses from camera recordings yesterday and also from current scans. All are residents."

"He's running at a six-minute per mile pace according to my helmet," Carter offered. "Didn't he say something about trying out some new shoes?"

"Yeah, I think so. Altered or something. I was shaving at the time, but I think that's what he said. Hell of a time to try them out. Looks like he would have done that in daylight."

"He's just cruising. Getting used to them," Carter said.

As though he had heard Carter, Jeff suddenly increased his pace. "Shit," Mayfield hissed out. "He'll bust his ass for sure now."

"Want to up that bet?" Carter asked.

"No, damnit. I don't. If he hurts himself, the Major will be all over my ass, not to even mention the General."

"Four-minute pace," Carter said.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. We've all heard how he runs, but he won't last long out here. Besides, he's going downhill; wait until he starts back up. He'll be walking at least part of the way and that four-minute pace will go out the window. Couple miles downhill is easy, coming back up this mountain is going to be a bitch."

"He'll run twenty," Carter said.

"No way. Five miles at the most on this mountain, I'll bet."

Mayfield couldn't see the grin behind Carter's visor. "Twenty minimum."

The Lieutenant snapped a look at Carter, "What? No way. Not on this road. Why would you say that?"

"There is a blaze on a tree five miles down, and another at ten miles. I figure he'll turn at the ten-mile tree. Another hundred?" Carter said, holding his breath.

"He is not going to run twenty miles on this steep road, particularly as slick as it is — no way."

"Put your money..."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Mayfield interrupted. "I just don't want to take that much money from a trooper."

"There's nobody but me, Lieutenant. You won't be taking it away from my family or anything," Carter offered, hoping.

"It's a bet. If you just insist on throwing your money away, I might as well take it. He'll turn back before the ten-mile tree, and ... he has to run back. No walking."

"You're on LT. That extra two hundred is going to buy me a good time one of these days."

Jeff had actually noticed the change as his body shifted into FFA (Free Fatty Acid mobilization). Before Little One, this had occurred three or four miles into the run, and even then, it was a gradual thing. The change had happened earlier and earlier when he had been running prior to the first snowfall, but this time the shift came just as he turned onto the county road at the foot of the driveway, and it seemed to happen almost from one step to the other. His breathing slowed and became easy. If he had had a running partner, he could have carried on a conversation even as he ran. FFA gradually happened to distance runners several miles into the run, if they were running at a moderate pace and not flat out.

{{{ Your body is continuing to evolve, }}} Little One offered.

The surface of the road was varied: patches of ice, patches of snow a couple inches deep that the plow had missed due to the road not being perfectly level, and other areas where the plow and wind had scoured the surface clean. Careful at first, he held his pace down, placing his feet carefully as the road changed. His feet needed to hit each type of surface in a slightly different manner. He slipped several times while he learned, but his reflexes caught him before there was even a visible stagger.

With the advent of FFA, his mind became even clearer, entering what runners usually refer to as free association. Before the snows came, he had used this time to plan his day and think about his next invention. He set a level of his mind on the placement of his feet, then let his consciousness drift. It briefly occurred to him that his ability to see in low light had become even better. Before, he had to concentrate to bring the ability on line. Now it seemed that a level of his mind took on that function without conscious thought from him. He felt a smug thought from Little One and sent her a thank you.

His feet were getting cold and he was beginning to be aware of his cock. His running shoes were not designed for this. Almost without conscious thought, he directed more blood flow to his feet and groin. He had heard rumors about runners who had actually gotten frostbite, or something similar, on their dicks. Smiling, he remembered putting Diana's hand on his cock after having run in cold weather. She had hissed in a breath and jerked her hand back. Then smiling up at him, she had dropped to her knees and taken him into her mouth. One heck of a way to get his dick warm. A smile touched his lips as he thought of the incident — and her.

That was long ago on a military base in Montana. So much had changed since their arrival here a few short months ago. He remembered the agony of indecision as he had considered divorce. That seemed like something from a dream — or a nightmare. Now, it was as if they were newlyweds all over again. He loved her — loved all his wives — beyond words to describe. But his Queen was special. She — enhances my life. Makes everything better. We complement each other. She is the most beautiful creature I have ever seen. Without her, I would be nothing. Yet she brings me women to add to my ... harem. That word seems crude, and falls far short of describing my relationships with my other wives. I'll spend some extra time with my Queen today just to show her how much I love her and how much I appreciate what she has done for me.

His mind drifted for a time, then, I hate this security shit. I have to inconvenience people just to go for a run. Fuck, everything was going along just fine until those two idiots and their ... buddies decided to try and kill us. I hope that son-of-a-bitch who shot Arlene burns in Hell. How can a man shoot a woman — a girl, for crying out loud? But she killed his ass.

I need to work with my wives on the range again. We've shot some lately, but not nearly enough. Shooting has to be second nature to my wives. But they did pretty damn well. Jennie blew that fucker's brains all over the wall. If it bothered her afterward, she hasn't shown it. Arlene has had a hard time because of her near-death experience. She still maintains she died, but like Jennie, if shooting that bastard bothered her, she hasn't shown it.

I think Di is still pissed at Hagewood — and herself — because he managed to manhandle her. He had to outweigh her at least three times over, but everything considered, I kind of wish I had held off for a second so that she was positive that it was her rounds that killed his ass.

And then there's Kayla. The General has saddled her with protecting me. That really scares me. She's certainly capable, but she hasn't had the training my team has, and I know that she will protect me with her life. Her training only consisted of the minimum everyone has to have before going off-planet, plus the time she has spent on the base range on her own. I'm going to have to increase her training somehow, but if I do, then she will want to go on missions with us. I can't risk my wife — I can't. I couldn't function properly on a mission with her there. I could never send her into danger, and treating her differently would tear the unit apart, so she can't train with them. Shit, how am I going to get her trained? I'll figure something out. Guess I can start out by training her with a combat helmet. That will give her an edge. Maybe I need to talk to Lieutenant Mayfield. Have her join in with their security training. Hmmm. I need to discuss that with my Queen and Kayla before I do anything else about it.

The miles drifted by, various levels of his enhanced brain acting without conscious thought. A part of him searched ahead and to the sides of the road for danger. Another level concentrated on putting his feet down without slipping or causing any more noise than was absolutely necessary. That slap, slap, slap of a runner's feet hitting the pavement was the result of wasted energy, not much, but wasted, nonetheless. On dry pavement or ice his steps were near silent, on the areas where there was snow he could hear the crunch of the snow as his feet settled into it. Maybe he could never be completely silent, but a level of his brain worked on it, anyway.

Selina, he thought. How will that work out? She seems confident her parents will enroll her in Helen's school, but her parents giving over total authority to us is probably going to be a big hurdle. We did reach a tentative agreement, though. Selina said we should wait and let them take the next step. Shit, I'm like Arlene. I just want to hug Selina and pull her onto my lap. This better work out, and quickly. He smiled behind his running mask. Helen is trying to hide it, but unless I miss my guess, she is almost frantic to get Selina here with us. Hmmm. I'll have to let Little One check Selina out soon. Can't have her getting sick. What will Selina be with Little One to make her body perfect so early in life?

Shit, there's the ten-mile tree already. Time to head back.

Carter stood in the hall by the Lieutenant's quarters. Mayfield stepped out the door and handed Carter two folded one hundred dollar bills.

"Thank you, Sir. I appreciate the donation. Next R and R when I buy the drinks, I'll tell the guys and gals how nice you were to supplement our drinking fund."

Mayfield forced out a sick laugh. "Worth the money. Lesson well learned." Then he thought, I underestimated Colonel Matthews yet again. And ... I've damn sure learned to not let Carter sucker me into betting with him.

Selina met Jeff at the back door, the six-year-old almost jumping up and down in her excitement. "The shoes appeared to work perfectly on the driveway, but I was not able to see you after that. Did they work as anticipated on the road? You are not late for breakfast. How far did you go? How did..."

Jeff picked her up and spun them around, laughing. "Because of you, I'm back on the road again. The shoes worked great, and I ran my usual twenty."

The Prime put Selina down and sat on the bench to take off his shoes.