destroy and never, ever stop; to create a weapon with unlimited capacity for detonation ... well, that would show the perverse nature of man, would it not? To build something guaranteed to wipe out the entire planet if it was deemed necessary?’
‘Our Sentinel Towers—they are resistant to nuclear blasts.’
‘The Evolution Warhead, once programmed, would analyse its target; it would detect our fail-safes, shed its skin like a serpent, infiltrate the tower and detonate from within. Let me ask you: would one of our Sentinel Towers survive a nuclear explosion that went off inside ?’
‘They are only braced for impact from outside. But then, this is not a problem—because this warhead does not exist... yes?’
‘If it does not exist, why are the REBS talking about it?’
‘Propaganda? A boost to the morale of a dying unit? Every religion needs its Holy Grail.’
‘And what if the Holy Grail really did exist?’
‘The power for immortality?’
‘Immortality and immortal destruction .’
‘I’ll get some people on it,’ whispered Mace.
‘Use the best,’ said Durell, returning to gaze out over New York. He surveyed the rubble, the destruction. ‘I don’t like nasty surprises. And I don’t want to find the Evolution Class Warhead knocking on our back door with my name at the forefront of its digital mind.’
An hour later, the trouble outside had ceased and New York was finally calm.
A door opened on silent hinges, allowing a tiny triangle of yellow light to spill onto the thick carpet. A figure stepped in, and Durell’s slitted copper eyes narrowed for a moment as he recognised the silhouette of Alexis.
I need this, he thought.
She closed the door behind her and moved forward, bare feet padding across the carpet. In the gloom Durell could see she still wore her tight body-hugging black uniform. Her copper eyes moved, focused, came to rest on Durell’s impassive face.
Durell studied her pale oval face as, without a sound, Alexis peeled off her tight uniform and stood with legs slightly apart, arms limp by her sides, fingers flexing slowly as if in anticipation of battle. He noted the hint of moisture on her pastel lips, and the short panting breaths—gentle, almost unheard, but hinting at her deep and desperate need.
Durell’s gaze dropped, past Alexis’s lifted chin and to the pale skin of her throat, and the small but perfectly rounded breasts. Then lower, his stare moving over her flat stomach and to the black glistening scales which began at the top of her vagina where her pubis gave way to armoured scaling which spiralled and scattered down across her groin and inner thighs. It tightened again into armoured panels which ran in twin glistening strips down the back of her legs to end in sharp points of insect chitin just above her heels.
Durell’s appreciative gaze lifted, following the trail of tiny armoured scales, most black but several glistening with oil-slick rainbow hues. The smell of Alexis’s Nex flesh prickled his nostrils, her scent mingling with his own and forming a natural perfumed bond as Durell finally moved and rose from the settee.
Behind the two, the city glittered. Fire erupted occasionally. A large CityScreen atop a skyscraper flickered with images of LVA, then modern KT weapons, then the NEP in an attempt at enticing normal, everyday people into the joyous union of becoming ... Nex.
The ultimate warrior.
The ultimate soldier.
Protectors of freedom.
Upholders of truth and law and order ...
You know it makes sense ...
‘You wanted me, sir?’ breathed Alexis, her voice soft, husky, her eyes dipping a little as Durell’s dark armoured claw came up to cup her chin. Her eyes lifted to meet his stare and he marked the strength there: the incredible, awesome physical power which she held tightly in check.
Alexis: Durell’s finest Nex assassin, Durell’s most awesome general in this bright new world.
‘Yes,’ he said, his deformed face smiling softly, pallets
‘Our Sentinel Towers—they are resistant to nuclear blasts.’
‘The Evolution Warhead, once programmed, would analyse its target; it would detect our fail-safes, shed its skin like a serpent, infiltrate the tower and detonate from within. Let me ask you: would one of our Sentinel Towers survive a nuclear explosion that went off inside ?’
‘They are only braced for impact from outside. But then, this is not a problem—because this warhead does not exist... yes?’
‘If it does not exist, why are the REBS talking about it?’
‘Propaganda? A boost to the morale of a dying unit? Every religion needs its Holy Grail.’
‘And what if the Holy Grail really did exist?’
‘The power for immortality?’
‘Immortality and immortal destruction .’
‘I’ll get some people on it,’ whispered Mace.
‘Use the best,’ said Durell, returning to gaze out over New York. He surveyed the rubble, the destruction. ‘I don’t like nasty surprises. And I don’t want to find the Evolution Class Warhead knocking on our back door with my name at the forefront of its digital mind.’
An hour later, the trouble outside had ceased and New York was finally calm.
A door opened on silent hinges, allowing a tiny triangle of yellow light to spill onto the thick carpet. A figure stepped in, and Durell’s slitted copper eyes narrowed for a moment as he recognised the silhouette of Alexis.
I need this, he thought.
She closed the door behind her and moved forward, bare feet padding across the carpet. In the gloom Durell could see she still wore her tight body-hugging black uniform. Her copper eyes moved, focused, came to rest on Durell’s impassive face.
Durell studied her pale oval face as, without a sound, Alexis peeled off her tight uniform and stood with legs slightly apart, arms limp by her sides, fingers flexing slowly as if in anticipation of battle. He noted the hint of moisture on her pastel lips, and the short panting breaths—gentle, almost unheard, but hinting at her deep and desperate need.
Durell’s gaze dropped, past Alexis’s lifted chin and to the pale skin of her throat, and the small but perfectly rounded breasts. Then lower, his stare moving over her flat stomach and to the black glistening scales which began at the top of her vagina where her pubis gave way to armoured scaling which spiralled and scattered down across her groin and inner thighs. It tightened again into armoured panels which ran in twin glistening strips down the back of her legs to end in sharp points of insect chitin just above her heels.
Durell’s appreciative gaze lifted, following the trail of tiny armoured scales, most black but several glistening with oil-slick rainbow hues. The smell of Alexis’s Nex flesh prickled his nostrils, her scent mingling with his own and forming a natural perfumed bond as Durell finally moved and rose from the settee.
Behind the two, the city glittered. Fire erupted occasionally. A large CityScreen atop a skyscraper flickered with images of LVA, then modern KT weapons, then the NEP in an attempt at enticing normal, everyday people into the joyous union of becoming ... Nex.
The ultimate warrior.
The ultimate soldier.
Protectors of freedom.
Upholders of truth and law and order ...
You know it makes sense ...
‘You wanted me, sir?’ breathed Alexis, her voice soft, husky, her eyes dipping a little as Durell’s dark armoured claw came up to cup her chin. Her eyes lifted to meet his stare and he marked the strength there: the incredible, awesome physical power which she held tightly in check.
Alexis: Durell’s finest Nex assassin, Durell’s most awesome general in this bright new world.
‘Yes,’ he said, his deformed face smiling softly, pallets
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