sure? We have a contract with Kurida. They allow their engineers to work on military projects after five years of employment. You can enroll into the program now if you want."
He kept backing away. "Not today, thank you, ma'am. Captain Williams, thank you again." He ducked out of the enclosure, giving Mitchell a few seconds to regain his composure.
"What was that about?" Christine asked.
"Nothing," Mitchell said. He fixed his posture and held the smile. He sent the message out to the Private at the door that he was ready for the next visitor.
She was nineteen or twenty, with short, spiked brown hair and a clear, carbonate nose ring that held the tiny broken abdomens of flash bugs piled inside, causing it to flicker. She wore a shirt that barely covered her breasts, and shorts that could have been easily mistaken for panties.
Or maybe they were panties?
"Wow, you're more gorgeous in person than you are on the streams," she said.
He wasn't sure how that could be. The streams were sharper than real-life, their filtering designed to minimize atmospheric interference, even skin tones, and balance lighting.
"Thank you," he said, maintaining his composure. They had prepared him to handle all kinds of people making all kinds of comments.
She held out her tablet, a foldable piece of e-paper that currently sported a picture of him completely naked, a heavy rifle slung over his shoulder and his CAP-NN helmet in front of his groin. He fought not to laugh as he took it from her and swung his finger along the picture to sign it. It was a photoshop, a fake. They'd taken his head and attached it to another model. The physique was pretty close, and the helmet had been well blended. As for the rifle... He would never carry anything that big. There was no room in the cockpit for something like that.
"You know that isn't really me?" he said.
"Is is when I'm alone at night," she replied.
Mitchell smiled. "You dream about me?"
"While I play with myself."
He fought to stay neutral. Maybe they hadn't prepared him well enough? "Oh. I'm flattered. Are you interested in enlisting?"
"Shit, yeah. I want to be a pilot, like you. I already went down to the center for the neural testing. They said I passed."
"You know they won't let you keep the decorations." He leaned back to grab the packet from the table. It was special e-paper that contained all the forms and an easy, secure transfer up to Alliance databanks.
She put her hand to her nose ring. "Yeah. Easy come, easy go. Anyway, I just wanted to see you for real. Thanks for the autograph." She took the packet and extended her hand. He shook it, impressed with her grip. When she took her hand away, he found she'd left him a folded up note.
"Just in case you want to let me try the real thing," she said. She winked at him and left the enclosure.
Mitchell looked down at the e-paper. Not everyone had an ARR, which meant they had to resort to less technically advanced means of passing information. She could have knocked him from her tablet, but he guessed she didn't trust the privacy of it. He unwrapped the paper, expecting to find her signature print.
They're coming. Goliath. Find it.
He felt his heart rate pop. He glanced back at Major Arapo. Her left eye was twitching, but the other one noticed him. She tilted her head in silent question.
He looked back at the paper. Was he losing his mind?
They're coming. Goliath. Find it.
It was still there in a messy print. He started towards the front of the enclosure. He had to find the girl and ask her what the hell this was about. He only made it two steps before Christine's arm was on his shoulder.
"Mitch?"
Her eyes were on the paper. He closed his hand over it. Dr. Drummond had told him his experience was normal. If that were true, why did the word "Goliath" keep forcing itself into his mind?
"What is it?" Christine asked.
He opened his hand and gave her the strip. "What does it say?" He held his breath, bracing himself for the
He kept backing away. "Not today, thank you, ma'am. Captain Williams, thank you again." He ducked out of the enclosure, giving Mitchell a few seconds to regain his composure.
"What was that about?" Christine asked.
"Nothing," Mitchell said. He fixed his posture and held the smile. He sent the message out to the Private at the door that he was ready for the next visitor.
She was nineteen or twenty, with short, spiked brown hair and a clear, carbonate nose ring that held the tiny broken abdomens of flash bugs piled inside, causing it to flicker. She wore a shirt that barely covered her breasts, and shorts that could have been easily mistaken for panties.
Or maybe they were panties?
"Wow, you're more gorgeous in person than you are on the streams," she said.
He wasn't sure how that could be. The streams were sharper than real-life, their filtering designed to minimize atmospheric interference, even skin tones, and balance lighting.
"Thank you," he said, maintaining his composure. They had prepared him to handle all kinds of people making all kinds of comments.
She held out her tablet, a foldable piece of e-paper that currently sported a picture of him completely naked, a heavy rifle slung over his shoulder and his CAP-NN helmet in front of his groin. He fought not to laugh as he took it from her and swung his finger along the picture to sign it. It was a photoshop, a fake. They'd taken his head and attached it to another model. The physique was pretty close, and the helmet had been well blended. As for the rifle... He would never carry anything that big. There was no room in the cockpit for something like that.
"You know that isn't really me?" he said.
"Is is when I'm alone at night," she replied.
Mitchell smiled. "You dream about me?"
"While I play with myself."
He fought to stay neutral. Maybe they hadn't prepared him well enough? "Oh. I'm flattered. Are you interested in enlisting?"
"Shit, yeah. I want to be a pilot, like you. I already went down to the center for the neural testing. They said I passed."
"You know they won't let you keep the decorations." He leaned back to grab the packet from the table. It was special e-paper that contained all the forms and an easy, secure transfer up to Alliance databanks.
She put her hand to her nose ring. "Yeah. Easy come, easy go. Anyway, I just wanted to see you for real. Thanks for the autograph." She took the packet and extended her hand. He shook it, impressed with her grip. When she took her hand away, he found she'd left him a folded up note.
"Just in case you want to let me try the real thing," she said. She winked at him and left the enclosure.
Mitchell looked down at the e-paper. Not everyone had an ARR, which meant they had to resort to less technically advanced means of passing information. She could have knocked him from her tablet, but he guessed she didn't trust the privacy of it. He unwrapped the paper, expecting to find her signature print.
They're coming. Goliath. Find it.
He felt his heart rate pop. He glanced back at Major Arapo. Her left eye was twitching, but the other one noticed him. She tilted her head in silent question.
He looked back at the paper. Was he losing his mind?
They're coming. Goliath. Find it.
It was still there in a messy print. He started towards the front of the enclosure. He had to find the girl and ask her what the hell this was about. He only made it two steps before Christine's arm was on his shoulder.
"Mitch?"
Her eyes were on the paper. He closed his hand over it. Dr. Drummond had told him his experience was normal. If that were true, why did the word "Goliath" keep forcing itself into his mind?
"What is it?" Christine asked.
He opened his hand and gave her the strip. "What does it say?" He held his breath, bracing himself for the
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