Chapter 6

Armin de la Perriere lay back in his comfy chair and watched the monitor. He saw the girl, Heather telling her mother, Megan, about their 'date.' She assured her he'd been a perfect gentleman, had rarely left her side, and hadn't taken any advantage of her. Megan shook her head in resignation, and explained to her about the 'act' men put on when they have an 'agenda.' Armin was a little angered to hear himself being talked about like that. He was also perturbed, because some of it was true.

He could've 'taken advantage' of Heather, but thought it hadn't been the right circumstances. He also realised it was likely the only opportunity he'd have to have a throw at her. Soon, the Normandie will wind up her engines and make her way to the tower in Cityplex. Heather and Megan will walk off to their new life among the Bakhunins and out of his life forever. He thought it a pity because he'd grown fond of the girl.

He continued to watch as the girl kissed her mother goodnight and headed to her room. He switched cameras quickly, to see her enter. She spent a good while at the mirror, combing out her long hair. She pulled faces, smiled, and, at one point, practiced kissing. It was a little too much for Armin so he switched cameras back to follow Megan.

The mother was watching a holo-novel in her bedroom. She had dressed for bed already and Armin was disappointed, because she had a nice, slim and sexy body. The novel was a romance - he'd seen her watching it before - and contained several, intensely erotic scenes. Clearly, Megan relieved sexual frustration in this way. Occasionally, she'd flick back to a particular scene she obviously enjoyed.

Heather, on the other hand, at last began to get ready for bed. He watched as she stripped down to her underwear. She was very skinny with small breasts she scarcely need a bra for. Armin thought she looked sexy with her hair falling loose down her shoulders. As he continued to watch, she reached into her nightstand and took out an old, framed photo. It was of a man in uniform, an obvious Inkubis clone, because they all had the same facial features. Armin sucked in his breath.

He saw nothing of this man in Heather. Whereas, the Inkubis soldier had the same chiseled face he'd seen in many a news holocast, the girl's face had fine lines and betrayed possible Asian influence. Clearly, the fair, and obviously Celtic appearance, of Megan had little trace of Asia, therefore, Heather must have inherited it from her real father. Also, the Inkubis man was big boned, hugely proportioned, and well over 6 foot ten in height. Again, that size hadn't carried through to his alleged 'daughter.' That these anomalies hadn't been apparent to Heather, was a mystery.

She lay on her bed for a spell in just her underwear, while she made entries into a diary. At last, the camera flicked to infra red as she turned off the light. Armin left the sound on a spell listening to her laboured breathing. Clearly, by the sounds she was making, she, too, was relieving her sexual frustration.

Far off, in the Southern lands of the Arks, Schecter and Rasida had also relieved their sexual frustration. They had, however, the advantage of each other. Now, they lay awake, talking about the days events and the remarkable fight between Sian and the Inkubis clone, Sabre.

"Okay, now we're alone, Schecter, you can tell me what happened to Sabre?"

"He got beaten by a little slip of a kid. What's to know?"

"What's to know? I'll tell you 'what's to know.' Sabre pulled his punches, that was obvious to everyone. For a big man, he capitulated with hardly a scratch or a decent bump, for that matter. Sian's best shots were nothing more than love taps to him. I would've kicked him as hard as I could in the nuts, but I doubt that would slow him down any. You saw how drugged up he was, nothing less than a bullet between the eyes was going to stop him."

"Armour piercing?" Schecter suggested.

"Obviously, and don't try to kill the debate with jokes. Why did Sabre throw the fight?"

"Well, uh, yes, he was clearly drugged up. Inkubis soldiers use them as we would pinto beans. They have drugs to psych themselves up, to suppress various unwanted emotions, to make them sleep and to fuck."

"Fuck? I thought they couldn't reproduce?"

"No, they can't, but they can fuck like anyone else. They just need the right derm, issall. Drugs maintain their muscle mass, everything. There is one, though, that heightens compassion and emotions such as love. If there wasn't, they couldn't function in normal society."

"Um, you saying what I think you're saying?"

"They call it the 'pink' derm."

"You nobbled him?" Rasida exclaimed. "I saw you pat him down. You slipped one of those 'pink' derms into him."

"That wouldn't be fair. As a referee, I couldn't do such a thing."

"The fuck? That's not a denial. You fucking fixed him up. You sneaky little bastard."

"You mad?"

"The Hell! You probably saved Sian's life. Why should I be mad?"

"I thought..."

"You thought wrong. I love my sister as my own life. If anything happened to her, I ... If I'd have thought of doing what you did, I'd have done it first. 'Honour' be damned if it means my sister's life. Now, Schecter," Rasida said, holding his head. "Stick out that beautiful tongue of yours and put it to work." She spread her legs in front of his face and Schecter obliged in the only way he could.

Elsewhere, Sian lay face down on the bed as Gina massaged the worst of her bruises. There was a nasty one across the small of her back, where Sabre's foot had caught her. There was a bruise on her face and her wrist was swollen where she'd tried to punch him.

"Sheeit!" she moaned. "If I ever agree to fight a monster like that again, lock me up."

"Tied up? Hmm?"

"You, dyke!" she chided, laughing. "Ow, shit, don't be funny. I think I've got bruised ribs."

"You sure you haven't cracked one? I think Rada should have a look. Leastways, you shouldn't go riding for a few days, in case. If you fall, you might puncture a lung or something."

"The fuck? As if? When was the last time I fell off my own horse?"

"When was the last time you went two rounds with a gorilla? Sian, he might've done some real damage. You've got fine bones like a bird. That guy doesn't have a skeleton, he has a steel cage."

"Y'think?" Sian said, rubbing her wrist. "I didn't think he'd fall like that. It was kinda strange. My weight was nothing to him."

"I guess you must've caught him off guard. I told you it was a good idea to strip, didn't I? Everyone's saying his tongue was hanging out and he couldn't think straight."

"Must be that," Sian reluctantly agreed. "Weird, though. He came out real strong then faded, like something put him off."

"Your body, beautiful," she whispered.

"I'm sore," she said.

"You're my hero, Sian," Gina told her. Sian smiled weakly back at her.

Outside, Rada and George were doing the rounds before lights out.

"Schecter and Rasida noisy as usual?" Rada said.

"What the fuck," George replied. "Least she's been quite bearable since hooking up with Schecter."

"Hope it lasts, for her sake as well as ours."

"Yeah, but who've you got to bitch at? It's uncommon you two getting on all the time."

"True. It's lonely at night, though. I sorta wish John was here."

"Yeah," George looked up to the night sky. "I miss Charity, too. I'll get back to Bluefields, maybe, before the rains. You going to Iberica?'

"First chance," she chuckled. "Can't see John coming all the way down here on horseback. Mountain will have to go to Mohammed."

"You figured out who fixed the fight?"

"My theory? Schecter. He said something to him, I'm sure of it."

"Maybe he offered a bribe?"

"A bribe? I guess money is what those people are all about."

Around two in the morning, Armin de la Perrier heard the airship's RIM motors wind up. The Normandie began to gather speed, heading in a Southerly direction towards Cityplex's tower. Soon, about an hour and a half, the airship will dock and the passengers disembark. Likely, they'll be allowed to sleep in to a civilised hour, however.

Slowly, Armin rose and dressed into his uniform. His proper station should be 3C, high up in the nose. There, he was in a position to oversee the docking procedure, if that was ever necessary. He had time to call into the cafeteria on the way for a quick breakfast. Halfway, he came across a small figure, wrapped tightly in faux furs.

"Armin?" Heather called.

"What you doing up at this hour?" he asked.

"Couldn't sleep. Then I heard the engines, so I figured we'd be heading to Cityplex. I wanted to fly over it one more time."

"Come up to the control car," he suggested. "You'd have a better view."

"Sure," she brightened. "I'd like that."

Together they ascended in the elevator. Armin fired up the monitors and settled into the chair. Heather remained by the clearviews, staring excitedly out over the looming city lights.

"92 degrees East, by 43 degrees, 12 minutes North," he said. "My bearing is, ah, 195 degrees and my speed, 93 kilometres per hour..."

"Hehe, that sounds so nautical," she told him. "Who are you supposed to say all that to if you're the only crew?"

"No-one." he shrugged, grinning. "Sometimes, I like to pretend I've actually got something to do."

"I'll be your crew," she volunteered. "Give me something to do. Give some orders."

"Ok, crewman," he laughed. "Lets see, what's my altitude?"

"Um, where does it say?"

"There."

"Ok. Um, 765 metres."

"What?" Armin said, aghast. "That's too low. What the fuck is the computer playing at? Y'sure?"

"That's what it says. I'm sorry, maybe I've got it wrong."

"No, you're right. It's 765. Let's see what's happening here?" Armin performed a quick diagnostic. The computer kept informing him everything was normal, when quite obviously it wasn't. He switched over to back up and got the same response. "Sensors," he muttered to himself. "Sensor malfunction? Nope, the computer would pick that up straight away. Why the Hell so low? What's caused this?" Just then, the distant collision warning beeped. Obviously, if they continued on their present bearing and height they'd collide with the first of the giant plexes. "Damn, drop ballast, will you? Up rear plane and rig for dynamic lift. Lateral engines should be ten degrees down vector."