Ilox Saga 1: Eris Monroe: More Than Human (2 page)

“Go on…”

Kyle glanced at the desk where Eris had left her cup of tea. The desk was utilitarian - spartan and clean. There was no sign that anyone worked in this area. No pictures of family or friends, pets or loved ones...nothing. Not even a plant, which were ubiquitous in the cramped quarters of Division Six agents on Kanpur.

“She didn’t really explain herself. I think it was one of her ‘hunches’ that she gets sometimes. You know…”
For some reason he disliked Project Director Sahin. He didn’t mention the maps that Eris had speculated about.

“No I do
not
know
, Mr. Arneson. Did she learn anything useful or not? I was under the impression that Commander Monroe was
special
.” The middle aged woman spit the word out of her mouth like a radar-seeking missile.

“We
are under severe time constraints and speed is essential.” Her voice dripped with indignation. “If we are to beat our competitors…” She paused and looked up at him.

Kyle
Arneson put his left hand to his face, cupping his chin. A gesture made from habit.

“She mentioned that there must be other facilities that the Valdren had built because of the starship they left at the Dawson Slope facility. If there was anything else, she didn’t tell me.”

He looked down and felt tired. The trip from Earth had taken a toll on him and his lower back ached with a dull throb. The supply ship he hitched a ride on had no accommodations for crew comfort.

Tess Sahin smiled. “Very good, now that is useful.
Our AIP came to the same conclusion roughly an hour ago. The data mining of the Dawson Slope facility has yielded a clue. There appears to be a Valdren base in the Mirfak Quadrant. Your team will begin prepping for departure at 0400 hours. More information will be relayed to you when your mission is well underway.

An hour later, Kyle was in hangar bay one, prepping the spacecraft
Reckoning
for a flight to the other side of the planet. He hated having to ferry VIP’s from one end of the planet to another, but the security was tight and all civilians, either coming or going, were kept under close scrutiny while on planet. He hated Kanpur. The dust, the sterility of the facilities and the hum of the life support fans were omnipresent. He hadn’t agreed to be transferred to Eris Monroe’s unit to be a glorified bus driver. He almost wished he hadn’t taken the transfer from Empreyn Duras to the TEC. There was nothing he could do about it; he was stuck here, so he needed to make the best of a shitty situation. He wondered what Eris was doing.

The only good thing about working for the
TEC was the state-of-the-art equipment and vehicles they used. He ran his hand over the gun-metal gray of the transport craft. Most people moved around Kanpur with ground vehicles, but he flew in style. This ship was his baby and no one could make her perform like he could. The trip to Olympus would take less than two hours as he piloted the small craft into a sub-orbital approach through the dusty atmosphere and throttled up to well over Mach ten.

The engines
resonated with power…emanating a vibration and noise that he loved. It was pure power. From his cockpit he surveyed a bank of flat transparent displays showing various scenes inside and outside of the powerful craft. The ship rested in a huge hanger…that was built underground. Even though it was shielded by being built below the surface of the planet the omnipresent dust found its insidious way inside. He could see flurries of fine particles dancing in the air as he throttled the twin engines to pre-takeoff levels.

The robotic fusion-cutters that had carved out all of the underground dwellings for humans on Kanpur had been at work for years, day and night, to create a home for thousands of workers. The mines on Kanpur were primarily worked by
MEKS. But when they broke down, as was inevitable given the working conditions, it took an actual human to repair and refurbish the mechanical workers. Living underground was the most efficient method to protect fragile human health from the harsh radiation that continuously pelted the Kanpur landscape. Kyle saw a group headed his way from the main platform elevator. They must be his dignitaries. Arriving in front of the transport vehicle were three well-dressed men and one woman along with numerous serious looking men in battle armor with very obvious weapons at the ready. Kyle noticed the bodyguards formed a protective inner and outer ring around the important visitors. Kyle only recognized one of them – Joe Quinn, the current chairman of the TEC. He had read about him on the flight over from Earth, the trillionaire son of the famous explorer and miner Hayden Quinn. Mr. Quinn was the owner and CEO of Quinn Mining and Metals, a founding member of the TEC. Kyle waited for the group to enter his craft, and then enabled a scanner that allowed him to hear what was being said.

“Mr. Quinn, it has been a pleasure showing you the facilities,”
remarked Tess Sahin, who smiled broadly at the older man. “I hope your trip to Olympus is pleasant.”

The older man paused before entering the aircraft, “Perhaps you can show me something more interesting soon, Dr. Sahin. I am disappointed at your lack of progress.” With a curt nod he briskly entered the craft followed by his retinue of bodyguards. A few minutes later, Kyle received word that the passengers were secured and the hatch was closed. He lifted the
spacecraft off the ground with a loud hum and then shot into the sky as if thrown by a giant hand.

I wonder if he knows I requested him for my unit,
Eris thought, thinking about her encounter with Kyle Arneson.
I’m not going to tell him that the heuristics program I’ve been running on the Valdren data module was created by Eli Bowman
. This assignment had been classified at the highest level and only the most highly skilled operatives were selected to take part. Missions within the covert group were high risk and low profile and could only be discussed on a need-to-know basis. She hoped Arneson would prove to be as good a pilot as Ikito had been. His service record indicated he was. So far, she had liked what she’d seen. His attitude and skills seemed to be a good fit for her group of talented soldiers. Mr. Arneson had been awarded the Fleet Golden Cross for Heroism for his part in the K’Tosk Hegemony War. Arneson was certainly brave and his skills as a pilot were top-ranked. He had downed nine enemy fighters during the short but brutally efficient war, making him a certified ace. Those who would risk the unknown depths of space were a special breed. She liked him so far...and he was pretty cute, so having him around was a win-win situation as far as she was concerned.

Eris Monroe
arrived at her tiny quarters and set up a bed by pulling it from the wall. Her quarters were relative luxury compared to the other Division Six personnel who had to make do with barracks bunks and lack of privacy. She noticed a priority message flashing; the computer was trying to get her attention. Fighting back weariness she stripped down to her black underwear, tossing her jumpsuit into a clothes hamper. The computer inquired if she wanted all messages played back. After taking her bra off, slipping on a new pair of panties and putting on a sleep shirt she told the computer to play the priority message, all others would have to wait until she had had a few hours of sleep. The message told her to call an old friend back. She quickly made the connection and leaned back on her bed. The holographic image stabilized in front of her face. A Republic Fleet logo appeared followed a few seconds later by the face of Admiral John Hargrove. Eris smiled. She hadn’t seen her commanding officer in over three weeks.

“Eris…you’re looking good - not letting the gravity on Kanpur make you soft I see.” Perfunctory and straightforward, Hargrove had always been very direct. He tilted his head slightly and cleared his throat. He gave no hint that he was aroused by Eris, who was scantily clothed in his sight.

“This is a courtesy call, nothing more.
I wanted to know if you needed anything. I’ve heard the food up there is pretty bad. How’s the TEC treating you?”

“
They keep me busy,” she replied. The thought of how insane her hours had been made her burst out laughing. It was the first time she had felt at ease in over a month. The first time since her encounter with the entity that Eli Bowman had deactivated…
had killed
.

“I appreciate the sentiment
Admiral…”

“You can disp
ense with the formalities Eris. Be at ease. No need for titles. John will do.”

Eris
wearily shifted on her bed, her muscles aching. Eris knew that most heterosexual men were attracted to her and she could read body language better than experts. John Hargrove gave nothing away with his face or his voice.

“I
also wanted to check in and see how things are coming along with the Deep Project. I’ve read reports that make my skin crawl. I know what kind of soldier you are…what kind of person you are. You’re tough physically…mentally. Hell, you’re the best soldier I’ve ever seen, but even the best of the best need some time off to relax and blow off steam. Do you need anything? Is there anything I can get to you?”

W
hy is he really calling…the informal nature of his demeanor, is he trying to throw me down the rabbit hole? Has Tess Sahin been making waves
?
He must want something. Everyone coveted what they didn’t have.
How should I answer him
?
He is my commanding officer
,
perhaps she was having these paranoid thoughts from the lack of sleep and continuing stress of command
.

“
Admiral...” she caught herself before she finished. “John, it is nice to see you, but I am dead tired and I need to get some sleep. If you remember back at L2 Station, you ordered some white wine…I forget the name. Send me a bottle of that and I’ll see if I can get it before heading off-world again. The work we’re doing here is insane. The Valdren and their damned defenses killed many of my men. I…”

John Hargrove
had a grandfatherly expression of concern on his grizzled and worn face. His gravelly voice was heartfelt.

“No need to coddle me, Eris.
Just think about what I’ve said. A lot of your men just died, and more were seriously injured. I have it on good authority that something new has been learned, and you’re about to ship off to the Verge…though I don’t know exactly where you’re heading. Operations have put a tight lid on all information coming from and going to the Deep Project. You’ve been working non-stop for over a month. The adrenaline has to be doing something to you. I know you - you’re relentless once you’re engaged on a mission. I don’t want you slipping up and making mistakes. I don’t want to see you shipped home in a body bag.” Admiral Hargrove seemed to be genuinely concerned about her. Those reports must have been gruesome to read. She knew how bad it was – she had witnessed the horror first hand.

Eris smiled at the old man.
“Ok, fine, you win… I’ll take some time off when the drive core is powered down for maintenance work. We have a lot of Jumps between now and our destination. Will that do, John?” Eris thought that would mollify the old man.

Admiral Hargrove
had a half-smile as he replied, “Make sure and let your team know they’re allowed some time off with you. And Commander Monroe, you have an eidetic memory, you know the wine is called Winter Solstice. I’ll have two bottles shipped out to you.”

“
Eris…” He looked deadly serious.  “Be careful.”

The screen went blank, followed by the
TEC logo of a planet in eclipse. The computer informed her that recorded messages were waiting. She ignored it and went to bed, falling sound asleep in less than a minute, exhaustion pulling her down into a dreamless state.

She awoke as normal, feeling refreshed and energetic.
Her limbs were still a little stiff and sore as she rose off the spare but comfortable bed. Some exercise would loosen her muscles up soon enough. The computer indicated it was 0330 hours. She routinely made do with four hours of sleep. Her tailored genes not only made her strong, agile and fast, her serotonin levels were super-human, allowing her to get by on a few hours of sleep per twenty-four hour period.

Quickly dressing
from a built-in wall dresser, she slipped on a clingy black sports bra and black workout shorts with built-in panties. Her breasts were medium size, nothing huge but she liked how firm they were. The latest fashion trend among body modders, at least female body modders - was to have four breasts. Eris could think of nothing worse than to have four giant tits on her chest, but modders were always trying to shock people with their latest ‘fashions’. She glanced at her breasts; they were firm, with strong muscle underneath. She was quite satisfied in her body. The athletic apparel she wore was modern, lightweight and breathed comfortably, taking moisture away from her skin when she sweated. The fabric clung tightly to her hips and breasts like a second skin. The range of motion and comfort was fantastic and they were definitely not standard issue for either the Fleet or the TEC. With synthetic high-count plasteel threads interwoven throughout the garment, it would stop an old fashioned forty-five caliber pistol at close range. Modern weapons however were energetic and required tougher materials to deflect. She laughed at the thought of being attacked in her workout attire, but Eris was taught at an early age to be prepared for anything at any time.

Eris was always hungry when she awoke and usually would have a small breakfast of coffee,
yogurt and fresh fruit. Unfortunately, there was nothing green or fresh on the arid and mostly lifeless world of Kanpur. It was a barren, lifeless dustbowl. Supplies had to be shipped in weekly and were basic. They consisted of no frills foodstuffs with the right amount of protein, carbohydrates and nutrients to keep a person alive – and that’s all, taste was not a consideration. She had to make do with packaged nutra-bars, the ubiquitous food of the military or those unlucky not to have access to anything decent. Nutra bars were bland and tasteless but had the essential vitamins and nutrients that life required.

She had some fresh brewed coffee however. The caffeine made her even more alert as she
walked five minutes to the nearby gym. She began her daily ten kilometer run. The TEC facility had a small but serviceable gym that included a two hundred meter oval running track. Eris flew through her paces. The omnipresent facility computer informed her she had finished in twenty-three minutes and ten seconds. She could have done better but this was just a normal exercise routine. She wasn’t really trying. At this hour no one else was about. Finishing up with a shower, she chose the same outfit she always wore – her jumpsuit made of light plasteel woven threads. The garment was utilitarian – a dull orange with a Republic Fleet patch affixed to the right shoulder. It had numerous pockets. She strapped on a weapons harness with a satisfying
click
. She holstered a modified gauss pistol on her left hip and headed to the TEC gunnery range for target practice. Eris preferred the gauss pistols and rifles manufactured by Erickson Magnetics because of their relative light weight and unerring accuracy. Arriving ten minutes later, she found the area was already full. It was packed with both her squad mates from Special Operations Division Six as well as TEC security personnel. She overheard a few of the men arguing as she approached.

“Hey,
Commander Monroe, you’re just the person we need. You can settle a little problem we have right here! Diaz bet Henderson that you could hit a moving man-sized target three times in the head at one hundred meters in less than three seconds.

The men gave shouts of
‘Whoop!’
and ‘
Hoo Rah!’
as second lieutenant Rafael Diaz finished with the widest grin she’d ever seen.

Eris looked at her men and then at the waiting
TEC personnel. She could tell they wanted a show. Most men took one look at her and were immediately thinking with their dicks. She was used to that, and it actually helped her when it came to her profession. She smiled.

“Ok,
Rafe, but if I win your bet, I get half!” Eris moved to the gun position where a Gauss automatic sniper rifle had been set up.

Sergeant Erick Henderson, a grunt working for
TEC security crossed his hands furiously as she approached, “No, no, no…Commander Monroe has to use her sidearm. That was the bet.”

Eris glanced at the sniper rifle and then unlatched her
gauss pistol and shrugged. “Are you sure you don’t want me to use something else…maybe a spitball?” Pulling the pistol from the holster was a practiced movement, one she had made countless times.

Once again, Sergeant Henderson stepped forward. “No, no, ma’am. You have to
draw
your pistol on the mark and fire three shots. And hit the target in the head...while it’s moving.” He grinned wickedly. Many of the men were conversing in low tones. Eris saw credits changing hands numerous times.

Lieutenant Diaz was at the gunnery target practice controls. A life-size dummy was suspended on rails. He made it move out
to a distance of one hundred meters. The range was indoors, just like everything else on the base. The maximum distance was only one hundred and fifteen meters and the width was only fifteen meters. Eris had to hit the target dummy in the head in three seconds as it crossed right to left, spanning fifteen meters, or five meters per second. This was equivalent to a humanoid performing a fast run. Most observers would state that such a shot was impossible.

Eris had her
gauss pistol holstered but unlatched. She waited for the signal to rapidly draw and fire the weapon. Rafael Diaz was at the controls ready to make the target dummy move, and Sergeant Henderson had a holo time program prepped and waiting for the timer to begin.

“Ok, I’ll start at three, count down to zero, and at that point, you need to draw your weapon, and fire at least three shots hitting the target in the head. Ready?” Henderson was practically shouting.

“Three! Two! One! Zero!” When Henderson said the final word, the holo program started counting in milliseconds.

Eris had zoned out everything around her
, all the men who had been whooping, hollering and jeering had become intensely quiet. She focused on the target and time seemed to slow down for her. In a practiced motion, she fast drew her pistol and then fired three single shots at the target. It was all over in less than two seconds. Lieutenant Diaz made the target dummy
whiz
back to the weapons console. As he did so, the men started to talk again excitedly and loudly.

“Hah!” She only hit it once!” Henderson was pointing at the target dummy’s head which had a single
gauss blast drilled through the skull. He was exulting to the other TEC security personnel.