cabinets.
“Well, I’d like to dismiss you for now. I’m fairly tired, and I’d like to grab a nap. I can send for you …” Chris frowned. “I don’t see your link’s service.”
Cinmei looked down again. “No, sir.”
“They block your link?”
Cinmei shook her head. She pointed at her head and then flicked her finger away in the nonverbal sign for no link.
She doesn’t have a link?
He looked away from her. She was held here without a link working as a private servant for whoever took the room. Chris couldn’t escape the truth.
The executives of VG kept Chinese slaves in Synchronicity.
He turned and walked to the couch.
Just take the pill.
“Something wrong, sir? Anything I do?” Cinmei asked uncertainly, following him to the couch.
Chris now knew what Synchronicity really was—a deep space fortress where the laws of Earth meant nothing. He’d never realized how far gone Alec Vineaux was. He’d degenerated beyond eccentricity to true criminal behavior.
Cinmei settled closer and massaged his shoulders. She worked her strong fingers into his bunched muscles with the vigor of a trained masseuse.
Chris thought about his 16,000 ESC per year. He glanced at Cinmei’s figure in the wall mirror and decided he wasn’t going to breathe a word about it to anyone.
Three
A sleek black courier ship approached Thermopylae’s inner runway. Aldriena Niachi sat in the pilot’s couch, but she only watched, her delicate hands folded before her as the Silvado ’s computer directed the landing. The small plane attacked the spinning runway much like an atmospheric landing.
Aldriena felt a gentle vibration as the landing gear contacted the station. The control systems of the courier tackled the task with superhuman finesse. The courier ship’s cockpit sat inside a rotating capsule to keep the pilot comfortable under whatever acceleration was being applied, so Aldriena faced the back of the plane as it started to spin with the base.
As the courier slowed relative to the runway, it began to spin with the base, pushing Aldriena farther into the soft couch. Finally, from the Silvado ’s external cameras, it appeared that the base had stopped rushing by. Sitting on the runway, feeling about nine-tenths the acceleration of Earth gravity, the courier taxied back into a berth to connect with the giant space station.
Welcome to Thermopylae on behalf of the Bentra Corporation. Please keep the following conventions in mind during your visit …
Aldriena ignored the piped babble from Bentra. She stepped up from her pilot couch and adjusted her mind to the new angle of acceleration.
She slipped out of the pilot’s module and walked into the cargo area behind the cockpit. The tiny courier’s belly could hold the volume of about four small cars, but there were only two cargo containers strapped to the walls, each small enough to be carried in one hand. She opened a small floor compartment and pulled out her gear.
Aldriena unzipped her Veer skinsuit and let it drop to the floor, leaving her in nothing but her transparent undersheers. She stared down at the ugly plastic gear and sighed at the waste. No admiring eyes would fall upon her smooth brown body once she donned the gear. Aldriena knew how to leverage her beauty to such advantage, but the dorky suit would nix that. She wouldn’t be able to get on Thermopylae without it. The gear was black, which was a plus, but from there it went rapidly downhill. It had a ridged, almost scaly exterior and a broad, flat plate across the chest that submerged her femininity. It had blue detail work here and there, an announcement of her lowly rank at the station. Another reason not to get into it.
But she slipped into the thing anyway and resumed her work.
Aldriena unstrapped the first container, her personal travel case, and put it in the exit way where the station ramp had attached to the courier. Then she moved to the other case, her real cargo. She freed this strong
“Well, I’d like to dismiss you for now. I’m fairly tired, and I’d like to grab a nap. I can send for you …” Chris frowned. “I don’t see your link’s service.”
Cinmei looked down again. “No, sir.”
“They block your link?”
Cinmei shook her head. She pointed at her head and then flicked her finger away in the nonverbal sign for no link.
She doesn’t have a link?
He looked away from her. She was held here without a link working as a private servant for whoever took the room. Chris couldn’t escape the truth.
The executives of VG kept Chinese slaves in Synchronicity.
He turned and walked to the couch.
Just take the pill.
“Something wrong, sir? Anything I do?” Cinmei asked uncertainly, following him to the couch.
Chris now knew what Synchronicity really was—a deep space fortress where the laws of Earth meant nothing. He’d never realized how far gone Alec Vineaux was. He’d degenerated beyond eccentricity to true criminal behavior.
Cinmei settled closer and massaged his shoulders. She worked her strong fingers into his bunched muscles with the vigor of a trained masseuse.
Chris thought about his 16,000 ESC per year. He glanced at Cinmei’s figure in the wall mirror and decided he wasn’t going to breathe a word about it to anyone.
Three
A sleek black courier ship approached Thermopylae’s inner runway. Aldriena Niachi sat in the pilot’s couch, but she only watched, her delicate hands folded before her as the Silvado ’s computer directed the landing. The small plane attacked the spinning runway much like an atmospheric landing.
Aldriena felt a gentle vibration as the landing gear contacted the station. The control systems of the courier tackled the task with superhuman finesse. The courier ship’s cockpit sat inside a rotating capsule to keep the pilot comfortable under whatever acceleration was being applied, so Aldriena faced the back of the plane as it started to spin with the base.
As the courier slowed relative to the runway, it began to spin with the base, pushing Aldriena farther into the soft couch. Finally, from the Silvado ’s external cameras, it appeared that the base had stopped rushing by. Sitting on the runway, feeling about nine-tenths the acceleration of Earth gravity, the courier taxied back into a berth to connect with the giant space station.
Welcome to Thermopylae on behalf of the Bentra Corporation. Please keep the following conventions in mind during your visit …
Aldriena ignored the piped babble from Bentra. She stepped up from her pilot couch and adjusted her mind to the new angle of acceleration.
She slipped out of the pilot’s module and walked into the cargo area behind the cockpit. The tiny courier’s belly could hold the volume of about four small cars, but there were only two cargo containers strapped to the walls, each small enough to be carried in one hand. She opened a small floor compartment and pulled out her gear.
Aldriena unzipped her Veer skinsuit and let it drop to the floor, leaving her in nothing but her transparent undersheers. She stared down at the ugly plastic gear and sighed at the waste. No admiring eyes would fall upon her smooth brown body once she donned the gear. Aldriena knew how to leverage her beauty to such advantage, but the dorky suit would nix that. She wouldn’t be able to get on Thermopylae without it. The gear was black, which was a plus, but from there it went rapidly downhill. It had a ridged, almost scaly exterior and a broad, flat plate across the chest that submerged her femininity. It had blue detail work here and there, an announcement of her lowly rank at the station. Another reason not to get into it.
But she slipped into the thing anyway and resumed her work.
Aldriena unstrapped the first container, her personal travel case, and put it in the exit way where the station ramp had attached to the courier. Then she moved to the other case, her real cargo. She freed this strong
Similar Books
