Ashlyn Chronicles 1: 2287 A.D. (18 page)

“Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Out of concern for him, she tried a quick scan of his mind and was more than a little surprised to see that he was blocking her.

“I’m all right; I just have a lot on my mind. Ash, that outfit is, incredible.”

Ashlyn wore knee high white boots, her locket on a silver choker with black stones and matching bracelets. For clothing, she was wearing a two-piece white stretch that was hypnotically tight.

It was spellbinding.

“Wow! You cut your hair? It’s stunning!” Her hair was parted down the middle, a notch longer than chin length on the right, and curled under, coming to a point near her chin. The left side was longer and whisked gently against her collarbone. On her forehead hung an inlaid, pearl, silver pendant that was attached to a silver chain that disappeared beneath her hair to each side. She looked even more lethal than she had before. She looked exquisitely perfect. “You look beautiful, Ash.”

“Thank you,” she said with a small curtsey. “I didn’t want to keep my hair long when we are going into battle. If you recall the vision on the podium, you saw this haircut then. Remember, when I was sitting on the rock?” said Ash. “By the way, is Phillip all right?”

“Bad dream.”

“Well, if I can steal you away for a bit?” In Draculean she said, “I’d like you to come with me, cause I vant to suck your—”

“Shhh.” Steven turned to make sure Phillip hadn’t entered.

“Neck,” Ash finished with a chuckle. “What did you think I was going to say?” With a flirtatious smile, Ashlyn extended her hand, inviting him to follow. “Come on.”

“Where to?” inquired Steven.

“My quarters! By the way, I hope you don’t mind if I’m on top, I’m a bit anxious,” said Ashlyn with a flashy twinkle in her eye.

Steven left Phillip a play-on-waking voice message that Gena would call for him should he awaken. He then followed Ashlyn to her quarters like an excited puppy.

“Have a seat on the bed. I’ll be right out,” said Ash. After ordering the dimming of the lights in the room to Level 9, a low romantic lighting, equal to that of a few candles, Ash headed toward her dressing room.

As Ashlyn neared the door, Steven blurted out, “Ash, I’ve been meaning to tell you how much I like that perfume you wear. It’s so delicate, and yet it holds a power, a sweetness, that I don’t know how to put into words.”

“I don’t wear perfume,” she said with a smile. “It’s not like Sea Base has a 5
th
Avenue boutique. What you are reacting to is my pheromones. It is a natural part of our genetic attraction. I get the same reaction from yours. The closer we are, the stronger it is. In fact, this is as good a time as any to ask you a question, if you don’t mind me getting a bit personal.”

She walked toward him. “Since the fugue melded us, have you had even the smallest abstract thought, however unintentional, about another woman?”

Her question struck him like a bolt of lightning. Steven shook his head. “No,”—he came to the realization—“I’ve barely even thought about Renee.” He stared at the ground, silent and a bit ashamed.

“It’s not you, Steven. It’s the way Tynabo designed us. Humanity has never possessed rational control over thoughts and emotions, much less hormonally driven ones. So, I decided to search Tynabo’s files about it, to see why I was suddenly feeling so uniquely focused. The answer is simple, though disturbing. Because of your relationship with Renee, it carries a weightier implication for you. With our hugely heightened sex drives, the Foundation decided that the best way to maintain family fidelity and unity was by eliminating the possibility of unfaithfulness. They found a way to eradicate the emotional attachment and desire for anyone besides your genetically matched partner.”

“Are you saying that my memories of Renee are being altered, erased?”

Sitting down on the bed next to him, Ash continued, her voice softening, “Not the memories. Just the emotional attachment. Your genetics are dictating that you want me and only me. Our pheromones are like a lightning rod, drawing the two of us together, whereas the pheromones from any other person create a sour, unpleasant reaction. It’s mild, subtle—but it’s been nudging us, training us to not think of other people.”

“I can’t say that I fault the logic. It’s kind of freeing—but, it’s sad. It trivializes what Ren and I had.”

“Yes, it does. Once again, Renee is the one paying the highest price in all of this. Steven, I was thinking about what you told me, about the vision Renee experienced. I think she knows something important that we don’t. Before I jumped onboard the transport to head to Avenger, I went to say goodbye to her and the kids. There was a sadness in her, but there was also something more. She seemed—content.”

Steven’s eyes narrowed in reflection. “I saw that look in her eyes too. She was in obvious pain, but she was resolved. Settled.”

Patting the back of Steven’s hand, Ash added, “I have a feeling that someday we’re going to find out why.” She boundoff the bed. “Are we still go for launch, Admiral?”

Steven nodded.

Ashlyn disappeared into the dressing room. “I’ll be right out.”

Steven stroked the satin sheets that were invitingly pulled back. The pillows were plumped and promising, the gel-mattress soft. He pictured her head upon the pillow, her naked body impatiently waiting for him.

Throwing a glance toward the open doorway of the dressing room, he saw that while Ashlyn was not in his direct line of sight, the large floor-to-ceiling mirror, on the far wall, was arraying her in full heavenly glory.

He leaned back on his elbows and watched her slip out of her clothes. Ashlyn held herself with the poise of an angel.
No poem could ever express her beauty in words, nor could any artist ever capture her essence on canvas. Perfection cannot be copied.

Ash turned and removed a black negligee from her closet. Glancing into the mirror, she caught sight of Steven watching her. “Bad boy!” After giving him a playful lion’s, “Grrrr,” she stepped out of view.

Bad boy or not, he could not tear his eyes from her. Steven’s pulse raced to the beat of a nuclear time clock as he thoughtlessly smoothed a wrinkle in the sheets.

“Close your eyes, ready or not,” Ash called out. As she stepped up to him, she giggled. “Come on, Quick Draw, we gotta go!” Ash grabbed his hand, pulling him behind her like a child’s Radio Flyer wagon.

Steven opened his eyes to see that Ash wasn’t wearing a negligee, but rather, a black exercise stretch. Scrambling out the door, she took him to the lift. “Deck five,” said Ash. “I’ve reserved the Arena for us.”

They entered the Arena, and garnering their equipment, took their positions on opposing platforms.

The object of the game was to control a large, holographic, fourteen-foot tall, two-ton Warrior-bot. The computer would start by randomly selecting an array of equipment for use in hand-to-hand combat and tactical air strikes or strategic ground assault.

As for the large platform itself, it encased the players within a light, gravimetric pressure field that sensed all body movements and then moved the bot accordingly. When set to a high level, game effects such as temperature changes, low oxygen at high altitudes, and even situations like hand-to-hand combat were often felt with near realistic force. A hard blow could not only cause severe bruising, but could actually fracture bone. The virtual game was designed to be as realistic as possible without risking the participants’ life.

The game continued until only one opponent was able to make a strategic move. One could then choose to either replay the game or continue on to a more advanced scenario.

Ashlyn, desirous of a heavy workout, set the level to maximum. Level 60MD offered a mountainous desert terrain, with little to no cover. Loading themselves into their Warrior-bots, they both activated the containment fields around their platforms.

As the terrain formed, Steven’s blue bot stood at the base of a large barren mountain. He swiveled around, taking in the terrain. He glanced at his forearm display, studying his bot’s features. His defensive matrix was weak, but his laser was the most powerful that the game allowed.

The radar display on his right wrist showed Ashlyn to be standing atop a bluff, about four kilometers distance. Now he understood Ashlyn’s flirtatious request. She had preset the computer, putting herself in the dominant position of control. She was on top.

Instead of considering her devious manipulation of the game as cheating, though, he found it challenging, if not downright refreshing.

Steven started climbing, seeking to balance her elevated advantage. Even with his hydraulic legs pushing maximum, he found the slippery shale impossible to climb. Even in failure, he loved hearing the whine of his pumping pistons and the feel of the servo-induced strength encasing him. He was having a great time.

Ash appeared to be moving swiftly, taking advantage of the high ground. Time began swinging in Ashlyn’s favor—for Steven, the summit was unreachable. He decided to activate his radar signal bouncer. It was a device that by design Gena occasionally allowed to go on the fritz. Neither opponent ever knew for sure whether it was functioning properly. Right or wrong, it forced the players to make cautious tactical decisions.

Steven’s initial thought had been to scale the summit, going around the right side of a massive rock outcropping. Now, with the summit unattainable, he studied the terrain about him, looking for options. He had no choice but to retreat.

Behind him lay a narrow canyon that separated him from a lower, opposing mountain range. He zoomed in, scanning the far mountainside. It was largely barren and offered no cover of sufficient size to conceal his large form.

It was near half a minute before his scans found something he could use to his advantage. If his radar was correct, Ashlyn’s bot was making good time moving at full-hydraulic stride across the top of the bluff.

Turning, Steven raced down the mountain, covering nearly half the distance on his tin can’s butt. Crossing the gorge, he climbed the opposite slope, quickly making his way through the small rocks and waist high shrubs. Steven’s destination was a small ditch, a scar in the hillside that lay a third of the way down from the summit.

Once there he found that it wasn’t nearly as deep as he had hoped. It was going to be a tight squeeze even lying down.

The second part of Steven’s plan was a bit trickier. Using the high-powered laser located on his right wrist, he began undercutting a huge boulder that was supporting the massive rock outcropping on the opposite mountain. It was purely guesswork as to how much cutting could be safely done without bringing the hillside down. Pushing his best guess a bit, he counted on a tad of luck.

Lying low within the ditch, he could just glimpse the mountain’s summit across from him. His radar showed she was quickly closing in on him. Switching off his signal-bouncer, he prepared to wait.

Steven smiled as he saw Ashlyn stop and activate what was likely her own bouncer. Her blip suddenly jumped back not a hundred meters from its original starting position. It was a bad bounce for her and seemed an obvious ploy.

Knowing that she must be nearing the mountain’s summit and the moment of battle was drawing near, his heart pounded. Though only a simulation, adrenaline surged in his veins.

It was time for him to activate his bot’s only defensive feature, Inviso. For two minutes, his bot would be invisible to her. Although with his bouncer now off, she could still pick him up on her radar. That is, of course, assuming that she chose to believe his signal was genuine. He also had to hope that her model was not equipped with an energy spectrometer—but that was a large part of the fun in the game.

Suddenly, a laser blast hit the hillside above Steven, showering him with dust and debris. Another blast, and yet he refused to move a servo. Ashlyn sent several more rounds toward the ditch, trying to flush him out.

Ash moved to her left, took one more shot, and then moved again. His ploy was working and she was beginning to doubt that he was there. She checked her radar, tapping it twice, almost as if she were thinking it might be broken. Her torso rotated, scanning the surrounding terrain, searching for a potential trap. Ash fired a final shot at the ditch before ducking behind the outcrop.

Steven’s timer had only seconds remaining before he would again be visible.
Come-on, Ash, hurry it up!

He felt a wave of relief as he saw her exit a few meters below the outcropping’s right side. Her lower position would now put him two meters above her direct line of sight. Ash sent two more straying shots his way and then started cautiously descending the narrowing crevasse of the hill.

As the timer on his Inviso counted down to zero, Steven lifted his arm, letting go a three-second blast at maximum power. The blast cut a deep fissure beneath the base of the keystone boulder supporting the entire structure.

His position revealed, Ashlyn’s shoulder turrets unleashed a hail of heavy .60 caliber gunfire in Steven’s direction. She knew that she didn’t have a good angle on him, but it was also clear that he didn’t have one on her.

While still firing at him, Ash punched the square, yellow button on her left wrist, lowering her two breast panels. Steven found the sight to be strangely erotic, and when he saw a single, white, red-tipped missile inside each breast cavity, he burst out laughing, shaking his head.
If women only knew what strange creatures they shared their beds with, we would all be put outside to sleep with Fido
.