Log 1 Matter | Antimatter (22 page)

“Well, I don’t know the ‘why’.”

“But surely someone has been able to test how
much of those three things are in us?”

“That is not the Planet of Law’s area but we
might have registered patents on those tests; however, they are
secured.”

She chewed her finger. “Okay, thanks.”

“Congratulations on your one hundredth.”

“Thanks.”

“Why do you care about the Triads so
much?”

She shrugged and quickly said, “I don’t
really.”

There was silence then a sigh. “Ara, had you
said you wanted to find out about the most sacred part of our
culture and discover the wonders of history as to why we almost
worship the three Artifacts, I would have been happy to look into
it more for you.”

Oops. She should have said that. “I know, but
it was nice to hear your voice again.”

“Any time … with consideration.” He added the
last quickly.

After that, she laid her Voice on her chest,
kicking down the covers, feeling hot and annoyed. It had been a
wonderful time of picnic, party, climbing events, horse riding,
family, and friends to talk with. For some reason, during the day
she kept worrying about why she had been fabricated as a Pure-Gen.
Matter levels were rising still and the logs were becoming more
frequent. Fear grew in her seeing that antimatter might be released
if matter wasn’t controlled. Ara’s eyes widened. Was that why Marc
was really gone, mapping HaV dimensions? Was he on a secret mission
to determine why and how matter was being transferred to normal
space? Her imagination ran away with her, envisaging Marc on
dangerous missions. That’s why he couldn’t tell her; one, he was on
a mission, and two, he knew she was a Mobile Unit. She would have
to make sure she didn’t accidently walk in on him when he visited.
But a secret agent would be careful, surely. On some of the shows
she watched the operatives were a bit careless but that was because
the writers were too lazy to write a really clever antagonist. Ara
turned and spread out on her belly, her face squished in the
pillow.

Drifting off to sleep, a strange feeling
swept over her. She felt something tugging at her mind so she left
her bed, dressed in comfortable clothes, headed out of her bedroom,
down the passage to the backdoor and opened it. Hovering by the
railing was a long container. What a strange dream. She reached out
and touched the dark red metal. A panel slid open and—she took the
time to analyze the data she received along with the medium—nanites
transferred a message to her. “Enter and find out why you were
fabricated.”

It was irresistible, was this what happened
to all those who turned one hundred? Maybe it was just for
Pure-Gens. The question she had wondered about for a long time
haunted her and there was something achingly familiar about the
metal, it was engraved with symbols she couldn’t read or decipher.
Ara glanced around, in her dream. If this was real and dangerous
her guards would stop her. So she closed the back door and climbed
in. There was nothing inside but bare metal, which was surprisingly
warm.

As she lay there the panel slid over, and the
metal began to seep into her skin at a molecular level, filling the
gaps, interlocking so tightly she was unafraid. Instead, Ara felt
warm with the joining. It interlaced her body, veins, muscle,
bones, nerves, and so on; she watched and recorded it all in her
neural network, labeling it “Meshing”. And then she could see
outside and inside and every part of her body. She was moving so
fast, shooting into the night sky, right through the Saratoga
Security Net into space, deep space, on and on, faster and faster,
until she was screaming.

Kation – Unknown Location

And then it stopped.

Her body tilted until she was standing
upright, with the chamber more like an exoskeleton. She was
standing on a metal catwalk overlooking a massive room. Next to her
was another dark red metal unit, facing her, raising an arm. She
did the same and they touched but she couldn’t communicate.

“And so it is now as it never was
before.”

It was a bit dramatic but they both turned to
the booming voice. A giant, dark red being came out from behind a
sliding panel and stood before them, almost at eye level. Ara
figured him to be twenty stories high. He nodded to someone behind
them on the other side of the catwalk. Ara stomped around to watch
as another massive being ran his great fingers over some dark,
viscous fluid held in an oval receptacle on a tall spire-like
podium. The giant being looked at the first giant being.

“He is not the one.”

“What?” What the hell was he talking about?
Ara felt vibrations beneath her and stomped around trying to turn
to see. The other “unit” shot up into a dark tube in the
metal-looking ceiling. Ara almost fell over as she tilted her head
back to follow the unit’s progress and quickly righted herself.
This was bloody ridiculous! Why didn’t they allow her to exit the
exoskeleton?

“I am Natal.”

Ara had to turn again and look slightly up.
The Natal looked at her severely, or so she thought as she scanned
with her “capsule” eyes.

She dared to ask, “Why am I here, Natal?”

He seemed confused. “I am soRon.”

“Okay.” She almost laughed. “Why am I here,
soRon?” More like “so wrong”. She sniggered.

“Know this, Mobile Unit”—his voice was higher
pitched as if he wasn’t used to talking to people like her—“it is
about you. kroTan needs to make one change to save you.”

She felt a strange surge move through her
body. Too bad if she didn’t want that change.

“It is done. You will understand one day, Ara
Katron, that the thing you most fear is the thing that will save
you.”

Release of antimatter? “Alright, but…” Her
body lifted, shot through the tube, and out into space.

Iota

Station: Perza

Galactic System: Sarato (Spiral Galaxy)

Planetary System: Saratoga

Homestead

She was returned, somewhat bemused, and a
little pissed off after she finished screaming. There was no cake
or happy one hundredth. She climbed out after separation, fear
returned, and she watched the capsule burst into the air almost
knocking her over with its thrust, and saw a shadowy figure sitting
on the barn roof. One of her guards maybe. Yes, in her dream she
would be placing the guard in view. Ara waved to the guard, and was
surprised he waved in return, and stopped for something to eat in
the kitchen. “Well, this is weird.” But what did she expect from a
dream? Hmmmm, there was some cake left but it looked like someone
had fingered the icing. Oh, that’s right. She’d done that before
bedtime. She grinned, pleased with how accurate her dreams
were.

It annoyed her that soRon called her the
“Mobile Unit”.

What might have been really useful would be
to know what happened when Maya didn’t need her anymore. She cut
the cake, while still in the cooler, and ate it even as the door
was closing. Crumbs fell to the floor but the new black and white
house cat ran over. “Enjoy, Puddy Unit 4.”

In the morning, Dad shook her awake.
“Ara?”

She moaned but shoved down her quilt and
looked at him with bleary eyes. “I had another weird dream.”

His look of annoyance was quickly replaced
with one of concern. “Are you okay?”

How long could she milk her weird dreams for?
“I think so, Dad. I’ll get up now.” She dragged her legs out first.
“You can tell Henry my dreams have nothing to do with my love of
food. There was no food in this dream.”

“Then what’s that on your fingers?”

Ara lifted her hand, seeing faint smudges of
icing.

“And on your cheek?” Dad lifted her chin, his
eyes held his amusement.

“Ah, I think after the dream, or during it, I
raided the cooler.”

Dad laughed. “Tractor Two needs repairing.
You might need to run into town to get a new sparky.”

“Sure.” She yawned and looked around for her
overalls. Dad threw them at her and she dragged them from her head.
“Thanks.”

“There’s still some breakfast left but you’d
better hurry. Mum’s packing it up.”

“That’s okay; I’ll get something in
town.”

***

Ten years on, Ara excelled in most of her
skill subjects with Jesran turning from farming to training. He was
her main companion for her climbs and physical activities. He also
turned to fighting and fitness in general. As they became older,
they explored the clubs but found dancing was their common
interest. Even Tekko, who was gradually becoming darker and was now
a dark olive green, liked dancing and adopted to the moves
currently popular on Saratoga. Bel, now a close friend to her and
Tekko, and Jesran were her main dance partners though occasionally
her “gang” would meet and mingle with Caleb’s “gang”. Terzon would
often dance with her while Caleb liked to flaunt his tight body and
one night danced across the dance floor and over several tables
drawing whistles and laughs as he continued and danced in front of
her.

One night he grabbed her with a laugh when
she stood to watch him and he pressed his body into hers. They were
both a little tipsy and she could smell the same drink she’d been
slurping on half the night. They danced most of the night together
after the last Caleb display. At the end of that night Caleb was
about to kiss her, having teased her mercilessly, when Bel yelled
over. “Ara, I think Tekko is drunk!”

By the mussed up state of his long, blond
hair, Ara saw Bel was a little drunk too. His clothes that covered
his stocky frame were a little disheveled too. Good grief, she was
repeating herself too. Too. “I’m a little more than a little drunk
… too,” she said to no one in particular.

“Hey, I’m listening!” Caleb let her go with a
laugh and some regret and she went over to the corner of the club,
shrouded in shadows, to lean on the wall.

Tekko was laughing his head off.

“Wow, hic, we’ve never seem him drunk. Quick,
who’z got the mager?”

Quick as they could fumble, they posed with
him, taking some memorable images. They managed to get his six foot
eight form outside where he vomited. And he still had some growing
to do, another ten feet was the general consensus. She took him
home, well, the taxi took them home, and helped him into their
spare bed. She touched his dreadlocks fondly, having had to clean a
few of them, and then called his parents to let them know they had
a late and busy night. But she thought she giggled too much during
the conversation.

The next day they went out walking, he
borrowed a maternity top from Mum, and stopped on a ledge
overlooking the valley. They shared lunch.

“You’re not even hung over!” She saw a little
sadness in his eyes and strong face. “Tekko, what is it?”

“We are moving away.”

“Oh no.” She wrapped her arms around him,
feeling how hard his body was. There was nothing cuddly about him.
Caleb was hard but not like a rock.

“Ara, be careful about Kavela.” He patted her
back.

“What do you mean?”

He smiled down at her, his dark green eyes
held hers. “We’ve been friends too long. You like him.”

“He’s old!” She tried to think of something
else to add, something negative.

“And yet every time you know he’s at a dinner
or party you take extra care in your appearance and keep searching
until you see him.”

“Do I?” She screwed up her face and pitched
her voice higher.

He touched her face fondly and was about to
say something when, right at that moment, Caleb interrupted. “Ara
um hi, Tek.”

He stood there with a bag and blanket. Ara
blinked, understood the intention, and returned his grin, licking
her lips.

Tekko looked at Caleb and then turned to Ara
with a smile. “Better choice. Keep in contact?”

“I will.”

He strode down, barely looking at Caleb, and
didn’t look back. She watched him leave, until Caleb pulled at
her.

“Better choice?”

“Agh … never mind.” She flushed and tried to
avoid his eyes. Caleb would be horrified if he knew she had a crush
on Kavela.

“Come on, you can talk on the Voice with Tek,
and it’s only for a short while. I’m sure they are coming back
soon.”

Ara smiled as Caleb impatiently dragged them
to a more secluded spot, tossed down the bag and flipped out the
blanket. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her deeply.

“Don’t want to forget this.”

His lips and tongue were raising her passions
while his hands were pressing into her bottom so he could press his
erection into her. She slipped a hand under his top feeling his
skin, warm and muscular.

He was bringing to mind their flirting and
dancing from the previous night.

“I want Fyr’Lahlia with you, Ara. We’re old
enough.”

He ran his hands down her bare arms and she
shivered. He cradled her face in his hands after she nodded and
laughed. “You have no idea what it is, do you?”

“No.” Her voice was high. “But I want to do
it with you.”

He grinned. “Well, get undressed. This isn’t
just looking.” He lowered his voice and said against her lips,
“We’re going to lick each other like ice creams.”

In her sudden rage of lust, she kissed him
and he pressed up against her showing how hard he was. She said, “I
get to do that to you too?”

“If you want.” He sounded suddenly shy.

“Who first?”

“You first.”

“Okay. Wait, you do me or I do you?”

Making the decision, and now naked, she eyed
him off, licking her lips. He groaned. “Do you want me to stand or
lay down…?”

She was already kneeling on the blanket and
he watched as he took her first tentative taste. As her excitement
grew she felt bolder and while she licked she made the move to take
him into her mouth.