Deep (12 page)

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145

Filed Under "DC3"

The foyer was empty except for the kiosk standing in the middle of the shiny metallic entryway. Lawn caught sight of her deformed face in the reflective surface, but she dismissed it. Her ogre side no longer bothered her, and she had Deep to thank for that. He had gone out of his way to caress the scarred tissue and the misshapen features, and he had convinced her that her outward appearance wasn't what fueled his love for her. It was the person she was inside. The same way she didn't love the holographic image, but the soul of the man contained within the little canopic jar that had been buried inside the ship's core.

"State name and purpose," the machine bleeted.

"Vogt Officer Lawn Bascomb. I'm here to review the archived communications between Vogt Twenty Twenty-three ACE and galactic base."

"Slip finger in slot, please."

Lawn slid her right pinky into the recessed slot. The computer nicked the tip enough to get a full DNA scan.

"Identification confirmed. Proceed to your left. Take elevator four to the second floor. Thank you."

Sticking her finger in her mouth to ease the sting, Lawn hurried to the bank of elevators. Once she reached the second floor, another kiosk a few feet away was blinking her 146

name on its screen. Lawn tapped the screen to let the machine know she had arrived.

"Proceed to room eight. Your key code is below. You have one hour before your code expires. Thank you."

A tiny slip of paper bearing a printed code had been spit out of a slot below the screen. Lawn took it and followed the wide hallway until she reached room eight. She punched in the long code in the box by the wall, and the door opened itself for her.

The moment she stepped into the room, she felt herself walking through a security net that gave her a thorough examination, right down to her skeletal structure. It didn't matter. She knew she had nothing on her that would be construed or misinterpreted as being a weapon of any sort.

And the recorder in her pocket was an acceptable piece of equipment, especially here in the records hall.

There was a table and two chairs in the tiny room. The monitor was built into the wall, and the keyboard was built into the tabletop. Putting the recorder on the table, Lawn sat and waited.

Her hands felt clammy. She was nervous, and it took her a few minutes to realize why. She would hear Deep's voice again, and that meant more to her than anything else in the world at this moment. She would hear his voice in the messages he'd sent. And although it wouldn't be him alive and responsive, it would be the first time she would hear him speak since the tragedy.

"Please state objective and specific time frame."

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Wiping her hands on the legs of her jumpsuit, Lawn said,

"Play back message Dee Cee Three." That had been her first priority. She had to know what was in Deep's coded message to her. She had to find out why it had been so important to him that he had to bring it to her attention. It was obvious he didn't want anyone else to know about it, or else the communique would have become just another one of the archived messages.

"There is no message Dee Cee Three in the Vogt Twenty Twenty-three ACE archives."

Lawn stared at the dark screen. In the pale glare of the room's only light source, she could see her outline reflected on the screen's surface.

"Check again, computer."

If computers could sound peeved, this one did. "I repeat, there is no message Dee Cee Three in the Vogt Twenty Twenty-three ACE archives. All messages are relegated a number and an alphabetical listing, in that order."

"Is there a message labeled or coded Three-Dee-Cee?"

Maybe Deep had given her the wrong code? She shook her head. No, that wouldn't be right. He had specifically given her Dee Cee Three for a reason. He wouldn't have made a mistake. Not Deep.

"There is no message Three-Dee-Cee in the Vogt Twenty Twenty-three ACE archives. All messages are relegated a single number and a single alphabetical letter listing, in that order."

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Lawn made a face.
All right. Let's play the game your way.

"Computer, please play first recorded message sent by Vogt Twenty Twenty-three ACE to bureau headquarters.

The screen went from dark to a pale blue. And then she heard him.

"Scanning complete. Full acceptance integrated. All systems are go for launch tomorrow."

Lawn burst into tears as the sound of his voice touched the rawness inside her. Her body's emotional betrayal shocked her, but it couldn't be helped. She understood that now. From the time her lifepod had been picked up, until this moment, Lawn realized she still had not mourned for him. She had been living inside an insulated little canopic jar of her own.

Sealed and insulated away from life and humanity, until she could find her own way of dealing with her loss. She wiped her eyes and nose on her sleeve before continuing.

"Computer, how many sound bytes are there?"

"One hundred seventy-seven."

"In total, how much time do those total sound bytes consume?"

"In seconds, minutes, or hours?"

"Minutes."

"Four hundred three minutes."

Lawn felt her hopes lift. "Computer, I would like to download a holographic image of Vogt Twenty Twenty-three ACE. How many gigabytes would the image contain?"

"Depending on the size of the image, anywhere from nine to eighty gig of memory."

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She plugged the recorder into the slot in the table.

"Computer, please record all sound bytes and holographic form to fit the recorder's available memory chips."

"Affirmative."

A little blue light appeared at the top of the recorder to let her know the information was being transferred. Lawn pushed herself away from the table and stared at the empty monitor.

She would take this precious bit of Deep with her back to her apartment where she could make a copy into her personal computer. That way she would have him with her forever, as she'd promised.

Nothing she was downloading was classified, so there was no fear of being slapped down for breaking any rules. All the important stuff was kept elsewhere, more than likely over in the big black basalt building behind the training hall.

The blue light turned white. The computer was double-checking to ensure playback.

She grimaced. There still remained the mystery around the Dee Cee Three message. Why would Deep give her a clue to something that didn't exist?

She paused. Maybe Dee Cee Three wasn't a message.

But he said it was a communique.

A communique doesn't necessarily have to be a direct
message. It could be a recorded conversation between
people. Or a sound byte of an instance in time. Or an official
statement.

"Download complete and verified."

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"Computer, are there any other messages, sound bytes, or recordings of any kind with the indicator of Dee Cee Three in their label or heading?"

"Negative."

Shit.

A lassitude was beginning to creep into her muscles. She had done what she had come to do. Her mission was almost over, and her body was telling her she was almost at the point where she could rest. Rest, then rejoin humanity.

Maybe it was because she was tired that she wasn't able to think straight at the moment. "Maybe I should stop trying so hard to think about what Deep meant by his Dee Cee Three comment, and it'll eventually come to me." She could always come back at a later time and see if she could discover the code. That would always be her right as his paired partner.

She ejected the recorder from its slot and slipped the piece of equipment back into her pocket. As she started to rise, the computer sensed her movements.

"Will that be all?"

Lawn started to affirm when a stray thought suddenly popped into her head. "No. Computer, you said that all messages were given a single numeric and single alphabetic listing, correct?"

"That is correct."

"Those listings were given to all communications from Vogt Twenty Twenty-three ACE, correct?"

"That is correct."

She bit her lower lip. "Computer, how were messages designated by me?" Lawn knew she hadn't personally given 151

any one message she'd sent to either Millner or Brune a specific heading.

"All communications from Vogt Officer Lawn Bascomb were given a single alphabetic and single numeric listing."

Just the opposite.

Her heart picked up speed.

"Computer, is there a message Dee Three from me to base?"

"Affirmative."

She felt her body shaking to the point where she collapsed back into the chair.

"Computer, is there a message Cee Three from me to base?"

"Affirmative."

"Computer, is there a message Dee Cee Three from me to base?"

"Negative. All communications from Vogt Officer Lawn Bascomb were given a single alphabetic and single numeric listing."

Shit. Back to square one.

But what if there's an addendum given to one of the
messages? Like a tagged message?

"Computer, how are messages containing tagged information designated?"

"All communications from Vogt Officer Lawn Bascomb were given a single alphabetic and single numeric listing."

She growled to herself. "Computer, how is the tagged information on messages designated?"

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"All tagged communiques are given either a double alphabetic or a double numeric heading."

A coldness, like little rivulets of ice water, trickled over her skin. A shiver ran through her as Lawn stared at the table top.

Look for communique Dee Cee Three.
She could hear Deep whispering in her ear.
Look for communique Dee Cee Three.

"Computer, is there a tagged communique Dee Cee?"

"Affirmative."

"From Vogt Twenty Twenty-three ACE or from me?"

"From Vogt Twenty Twenty-three ACE."

"Play it."

"There are six such tagged communiques labeled as Dee Cee. Do you want me to play them all?"

"Is there a tagged communique Dee Cee to message three?"

"Affirmative."

"Play the tagged communique."

There were a few seconds of silence, then a deep sigh. "I don't know, Brant. This is definitely writing a whole new set of rules that I don't think you or your army of scientists ever anticipated."

It was Deep's voice. Brant had to be Captain Brune.

"Do you honestly expect me to lie here and not feel anything for her? You guys fucked up big time when you paired us up this way. I'll be very interested to find out if the Velderman mission encounters the same problem." There was another frustrated sigh. "I promised you six years of my life.

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There was nothing in the contract about my fucking heart.

Transmission ended. Mehra out."

Seconds ticked by as Lawn felt the blood draining out of her face. Her mind was a complete blank, wiped clean by the shock of the message.

"Will that be all?"

Her hand automatically reached for the recorder in her pocket and plugged it back into the console. "Computer, record tagged communique Dee Cee from message three."

The recorder light went from blue to white.

"Download complete and verified."

This time when Lawn got up from her seat, she moved with a purpose.

Her mind was in turmoil. She had to get back to her apartment and give herself time to digest what she'd heard.

About what she'd learned.

It was impossible...but what if.

What if?

"I promised you six years of my life. There was nothing in the contract about my fucking heart. Transmission ended.

Mehra out."

Oh, God. Please. Please!

* * * *

154

Filed Under "Debriefing"

It was either wear the jumpsuit, or wear nothing at all.

Within a week, Lawn preferred to wear nothing at all. Deep preferred it that way as well.

The only time she felt the need to get dressed was either when she was chilled, or when she had to don the bulky spacesuit and go over to run the diagnostics in the buoy because the spacesuit was too abrasive on her skin.

Whenever she did, it left her hot and sweaty. Deep often teased her about her constant need to shower.

"There's you and there's me, and I already know every inch of you." He laughed.

"I don't like feeling sticky," she shot back at him as she climbed into the stall.

"Sticky doesn't bother me," he murmured directly in her ear. A hand came out of the wall and stroked her bare ass.

"Well, it does me. And I stink, too."

"I don't—"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Lawn interrupted, trying unsuccessfully to hide her grin. "You don't have a nose, so—"

"On the contrary," he interrupted in kind. "My olfactory sensors are about four thousand times greater than yours.

What I was going to say before you overrode me was that I don't care how you smell. You have a scent that is unique to 155

yourself. And, personally, I find your smell to be intoxicating.

I love the way you smell."

The hand was joined by another. A third gently tilted her forward before trailing down her spine to her tail bone. As it insinuated itself between her buttocks, the other hands helped by spreading her.

Pressing her palms against the shower wall, Lawn resisted the urge to glance over her shoulder. "You know what I want to do?" she asked him.

"I could ask you the same question," Deep murmured.

"I want to look back and see you standing there, between my legs."

She was answered with silence. Lawn opened her eyes.

"Deep?"

She chanced a peek under her arm. What she saw made her gasp in surprise.

He was nude, or his holo was nude. She could see every inch of him, all the way down to his bare feet. It was also evident he sported a very strong erection, which, from her angle, appeared to be buried inside her.

What really caught her attention was the substantial amount of chest hair across his pecs, and the trail of dark curls going down to the root of the long pole of flesh pseudo-copulating with her.

"Damn!"

He raised one eyebrow at her. "What?"

"Your attention to detail is..."

"Is what?"

"Is...damn!"

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laughed. It was a wonderful sounding laugh, full of honest joy. "I take it you like?"

"Uh-huh." She grinned. "It'll definitely give my naughty imagination a lot more to chew on when the lights go out."

growled softly, and Lawn felt the head of her vibrator press against the entrance to her channel. It whirred, making her body tense in expectation. Deep moved the device around her inner lips, teasing her swollen nub, until the flesh-colored head was smeared with her cream.

"The sight of me in the nude isn't the only thing I'm going to leave you with," he promised. Before she could respond, he splayed her buttocks farther apart, and began pressing the toy firmly and deeply into her.

Lawn's eyes flew open. She was awake and completely alert, every muscle humming as if she was on the verge of running a marathon. Sitting up in bed, she glanced out the window at the pale light of dawn approaching the city.

"Computer! Time!"

"Six-twelve a.m."

"Cancel alarm." Throwing off the sweaty covers, she rushed for the bathroom to get showered and dressed.

She had spent most of the night listening to every message Deep had sent to the bureau at least three times.

More than that, she had played and replayed the hidden tagged communique more than a dozen times.

I promised you six years of my life. There was nothing in
the contract about my fucking heart. Transmission ended.

Mehra out.

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The sight of me in the nude isn't the only thing I'm going
to leave you with.

Do you think I planned to fall in love?

I promised you six years of my life.

I know more about loneliness than you realize.

Dear God, it's not fucking fair.

There was nothing in the contract about my fucking heart.

Transmission ended. Mehra out.

Mehra out.

Mehra out.

Mehra out.

"Not Deep out. Mehra out. Why?" she asked herself in the mirror. "Why did you call yourself Mehra and not Deep?

Why?"

He had told her his name was Deep. All computers, if they were given a name to make them appear more human, were only given single monikers. Not two. Two names were a human affectation, given to them to designate their family heritage and their individuality.

Mehra out.

Men often referred to themselves by their last names.

Lawn paused with water dripping off her face.

Deep Mehra? My God, is your name really Deep Mehra?

And if it was, what did it mean?

She was due in Millner's office for her debriefing at oh-seven-hundred hours. Lawn swore to herself she wouldn't leave there until she got some answers.

The air smelled unusually crisp. The sky was a cloudless blue. She'd forgotten about the change in the seasons as she 158

strode over to the tall, almost cylindrical building located at the far end of the complex. Its outer walls were made up of the same pale gold honeycomb pattern as the inside walls of the Vogt ship. When she'd finally noticed it, Lawn wondered if anyone else had made the connection.

Inside the lobby, she underwent another DNA scan before the computer gave her directions up to Coordinator Millner's office. When she arrived, Captain Brune was standing in the hallway outside the coordinator's door.

"Hello, Officer Bascomb. You're looking very well." His eyes focused on her scarred cheek. Lawn felt her determination strengthen.

"Will this take long?"

The captain gave her a noncommittal smile and opened the door, holding it open to allow her to go through first. Lawn made it a point not to thank him.

Inside she recognized Coordinator Millner, as well as Dr.

Plegg. Plegg headed the teams of doctors who prepared and trained the officers and astronauts working for the Galactic Enforcement Bureau. Millner nodded when she entered the room. "Good morning, Officer Bascomb. Thank you for being prompt."

Lawn kept her cards concealed. The truth about the Vogt program was slowly coming into focus for her. Unfortunately, there were too many questions and not enough answers. At least, the answers she was getting didn't make sense. Not unless she had made assumptions.

God, give me strength!

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She sat in the chair and waited to see what they would do.

See if they would make a mistake and reveal something that would unlock another door holding back more secrets.

Because that's what the Vogt program was—full of secrets.

She had come to the conclusion that the whole program was one giant question mark, filled with half-truths, false truths, and misleading truths.

Well, this officer has done her homework. My final report is
about ready to be published. All I need from you guys is the
impetus to yank that bandage off the sore, and let it start
bleeding again all over your clean, sterile facades.

"This meeting is merely a formality," Millner said. "Your general debriefing was held onboard the
Von deBont
."

Lawn nodded. She'd suspected as much.

Dr. Plegg walked around her seat and stopped in front of her, his hands tucked into the pockets of his lab coat. He had a sincere smile on his face. "Your arm should be completely healed within another few weeks. Once those nerves restore themselves, you'll be as good as new."

"Officer Bascomb." Brune came up from behind the coordinator. "You're about to enter stage three of your contract with the GEB. As per your request, you are being reassigned to the training facility where your request to becoming a training facilitator has been granted." He smiled at her, but his was not as sincere as the doctor's. "You have eight more days of paid leave, Lawn, before you have to report to Officer Ginn Tyler. Before we let you go, do you have any questions for us?"

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She glanced at all of them. "That's it? I get congratulations on a job well done, a side helping of thank yous for saving the planet, and a free pass to the next level of my career?"

Brune frowned. "I don't understand. You don't sound particularly happy about it."

Lifting her chin, she stared her supervisor in the eyes.

"What about Deep? What about him? I want to know where you're keeping him, and I want to know how I can go be with him."