Flux Runners Read online

  “Yes, actually,” the woman said. “Everything is actually more than alright.” She smiled at Doug and Krista, then looked back to the waitress. “Please bring us three house specials and three beers.” She turned back to Doug and Krista. “If that’s alright with the two of you, of course.”

  The two of them looked to each other in disbelief. Doug shrugged. “Sure,” he hesitantly slurred with a chuckle. “I won’t turn down a free meal and a beer. Something preferably dark and chewy, not chilled piss, please.”

  Krista elbowed him in the ribs, then nodded at the waitress. “Yes please, but cider instead of beer, if you have it.”

  The waitress scribbled the order on her pad and stepped away. “Coming right up.”

  Krista elbowed Doug in the ribs once more. “How do you know that she isn’t going to kill us and take our kidneys or something?”

  “Really?” Doug scowled.

  “My name is Elizabeth Trower. You can call me Lizz.” She extended her hand in friendship. “Again, thank you for your help back there.”

  Doug shook the proffered hand. “So, what’s the deal? You don’t look like you belong on this side of town. In all truth, it’s probably one of the worst parts of the city that a woman can walk around alone.”

  “I was told that there are a lot of starship crews that hang out at the bars on this side of town when they come planetside.” Lizz removed her heavy coat and straightened the jacket of her gray business suit.

  “Yeah, a lot of them do,” Doug admitted. “But a woman like you out here alone on this side of town is just asking to disappear without a trace. What’s so important that you’d risk being out here alone like this?”

  Lizz closely examined the filthy pair seated across the booth from her and smiled wide. “I recently retired from my position as the head of marketing for a large corporation in Sydney Australia. After selling my shares back to the company, I decided that I should do something new and do that something quickly.”

  “That’s great and I am so very happy for you, I really am, but that still doesn’t explain why you’re here,” Doug said.

  “Because I have already done it all,” Lizz said. “I accomplished everything I had set out to accomplish. The job was no longer a challenge. So, I decided to reinvest my windfall quickly and try something few have done successfully. I purchased a ship and plan to run an independent operation without any corporate attachment. The crew will be independent contractors working directly for me. No union or spacer guild allowed.”

  “Okay...,” Krista said with a disbelieving tone.

  Doug sniggered to himself as he picked at his fingernails. “You do realize how hard that is going to be, don’t you?”

  “I do,” Lizz admitted. “Which is why I want to attempt it.”

  Doug shook his head then smiled at Krista. “You’re basically painting a great big target on your back for the Independent Alliance to take potshots at. You do realize this, don’t you?” Doug snapped his gaze back to Lizz. “There’s only a snowball's chance in hell that you could succeed at a plan like that.”

  Lizz leaned forward and smiled. “I do, and I could use a go get em guy like yourself to run the day to day operations for me.”

  “What exactly’s in it for us,” Krista interrupted.

  “Are you two a package deal?” Lizz glanced from Doug to Krista and back again.

  “Yes, we are,” Doug answered. “She brings up a very good point though. What’s in it for us?”

  “Well for starters, you get to be captain …”

  cHAPTER 1

  The Nunnery,

  Northeast Atlanta, Georgia, USA

  May 12, 2176 / 1643 hrs local time

  “P

  lease make yourself comfortable, Mr. Smith,” the well-endowed hostess said. “Your counselor,” she giggled, “will be with your momentarily. Should you need anything, merely press this button.” She gestured with a slender finger as she held out a small keychain fob with a single red button in the center. The hostess seductively arched her back as she bent at the waist, leaning down to unlock the door.

  Animalistic lust welled up within him. His eyes bulged and his pulse raced at the sight of her tender pale flesh, ever so delicately wrapped in an almost nonexistent leather skirt. She swung open the door and stepping aside, motioned for him to enter. Rich red velvets and golden accents stood out in the dimly lit room.

  “Please, enjoy your stay, Mr. Smith.”

  “Yes,” Mister Smith anxiously hissed. “I do believe I will,” he said with a slight stutter. Nervously he wiped away beads of sweat from his balding head, then wiped his hands across the back of his rotund girth. He entered, slowly closing the door behind him. Various instruments of pain and pleasure hung on the gaudy, gilded walls. Large tapestries hung about the room as decoration, but he could see a partially concealed restraint system hidden behind one with images of a great forest stag.

  A quiet, girlish giggle emanated from the shadows of the room.

  He gasped, turning in the direction of the sound he sucked in an anxious breath.

  “Don’t you just love the energy of this place, Mr. Smith?” The voice from the shadows said in a soft, Australian accent. “They have everything that you could ever need to accommodate even the darkest and wildly imaginative of fantasies. The owners of this establishment have taken virtually all possible wants or desires and gathered them all neatly under one roof. An absolutely brilliant business strategy if you ask me.”

  “You are wise beyond your years, Mistress,” he blurted with nervous anticipation.

  Seductively slow steps echoed over the tiled floor as a petite figure emerged from the shadows. Her hips swayed with each measured step of her thigh-high stiletto boots. She strode into the brighter, but still dim overhead light at the center of the room. She wore a black velvet mask with accents of colorful blue feathers. The shadows accentuated lines of maturity on her face that peeked out from the edges of the mask. Her hands rested casually behind her back as she paced. Her full tightly curled locks teased along the tops of her breasts but did nothing to hide her naturally voluptuous curves stuffed into a strapless corset. The intricate bronze-trimmed latches that decorated the garment looked strained and at the maximum load limit of their design, barely able to contain the naturally large breasts.

  Mister Smith gasped, struggling to swallow a dry breath.

  “Do not look at me, Maggot!”

  He looked away with a quick reflexive jerk and lowered his head. He attempted to hide a nervous grin that crossed his face. “Yes, Mistress,” he said submissively.

  Her arms relaxed and fell to her sides. She uncoiled a thin, yet sturdy looking leather whip that fell to the floor about her feet.

  “Undress yourself, Maggot.”

  In one blindingly quick motion, she cracked the whip and unlatched the simple belt buckle that he wore.

  “Yes, Mistress,” he nervously replied. Struggling to remove his clothing he stumbled over himself. He stumbled forward but caught himself and regained his footing.

  She approached him with confident, heavy-heeled strides. She double wrapped the whip around his neck with the speed of an experienced cougar and forced him to his knees. “From this moment on, you are my property. You do what I say, when I say, and how I say, or the punishment shall be severe.”

  “Yes, Mistress,” he groveled.

  “Perfect,” she purred. “Very good, my little maggot. There may be hope for you yet. Now on your feet!” She tugged hard on the whip-like a horse's reins and lead him to the rear of the room. She turned slowly to face him, examining her prey. With the tip of a finger, she traced the line of his thick, bulbous jowl to just under the ear where the jaw attached to the skull. She pinched his ear lobe then pulled him downward. He pulled him closer to her and whispered. “Do you like pain, Maggot?”

  His breath came in shallow, excited gasps. He dryly swallowed, stuttering his reply. “Yes, Mistress.”

  “You do not impress me
, you fat maggot! You are a sorry excuse for flesh. No! You do not even rate as high as meat. You are not flesh. You are now, nothing. You will bleed for me and beg for more! Then you may rate as something tangible.”

  “Y...y...yes, Mistress,” he said with a confused but excited stutter. A line of drool formed at the corner of his mouth.

  She tore back a heavy, red velvet curtain to reveal a small anteroom. In the center of the anteroom stood a highly polished, articulating examination table. Four restraint arms protruded from each corner of the table. With much more strength than he thought she was capable of, she shoved him toward the table.

  “Lay down,” she commanded. She landed a forceful kick to his rump. He flopped face down atop the table without hesitation. It groaned and creaked from the strain of his shifting mass. His entire body quivered with anticipatory shudders. She paced around the table with deliberation and closed the restraints over his limbs with four satisfying metallic clicks. “Are you ready for the fun to begin?” She chortled. “This is the part where most people begin to panic. They think that they have made a terrible mistake, and they let fear take control. But not to worry, you are in good hands. I promise you that.”

  She let out an amused snicker as she inserted a rubber ball gag into his mouth and secured it around his head. “It would be best if you were to stay calm. We wouldn’t want you to hyperventilate yourself into unconsciousness, now would we? That would just ruin all of our fun.” She leaned down from the waist and crossed her arms on the edge of the tabletop. She rested her chin on her arms and gazed contemplatively into the eyes of her subject. “Where, oh where, to begin? So many choices, so many possibilities.” She let out a contented purr as she seductively stretched, her hips swaying hypnotically. He whimpered between spasmodic breaths of excitement.

  “It seems that you have been a very naughty boy, Mr. McGill.” He tensed at the mention of his real name. “And now, you seem to have found yourself in a compromising and inescapable predicament.” She smiled at him and stretched as if she were a cat that had just awoken from a nap. Languidly, she rolled and stood upright, then began to pace around the table. “You see Senator, there is something about cornering a creature that brings out the worst in its temperament. Even more so if the species is doomed for extinction. There is nothing that an endangered species will not do in order to continue breathing for one more day or to put food in its belly. Some of those recent bills that you lobbied for and helped to pass are a perfect example. Bills like those hurt people like myself and my family. They take even more credits out of our already threadbare pockets. They will make it that much harder for us to make a living as independent operators out in the black. We are a dying breed thanks to great and powerful men such as yourself, Mr. McGill.” She slapped him briskly across his exposed rump.

  He jerked; muffled words foamed from around the red rubber ball gag.

  “The Madam has kept a very detailed record of your visits to this establishment, Mr. McGill. It seems that there are very few services offered by the Nunnery which you have not partaken. It surprises me that a Senator of the Independent Alliance must frequent a house of ill repute in order to satiate his desires.” She returned to his field of view as she continued to circle the table. A conniving, yet seductive grin colored her face.

  She snickered to herself. His sad, chubby countenance resembled a trussed-up suckling pig, apple in mouth and ready for the fire. The look in the senator's eyes begged for merciful release.

  “You, Senator McGill have some very important information locked away in that disturbed mind of yours, and I want it,” she said with a snarl. “I intend to leave here with that knowledge, or the video of this session and all previous sessions will go viral across the Aethernet, uploaded to every connected intranet server and appear simultaneously on every active screen across the globe.” She nonchalantly leaned her hip against the table and sneered. “However,” she paused, pushing her hair back as she leaned down. “By the time this particular session is over it would be more embarrassing than all of your other visits, combined.” Her crazed glare bore into his soul. She stood and continued around the table, one slow, seductive step at a time. “Physical torture would only be a pleasure to you. I know because I have studied you for quite some time, Mr. McGill. Humiliation wouldn’t do the trick either. It would only be enjoyable for you. So I said to myself, how will I be able to coax the information that I want from this man when he would thoroughly enjoy almost anything that I could come up with short of cutting off body parts. Then it hit me. I had this brilliant idea. A vice that up to this point, even you hadn’t tried. At least not that I could find any evidence to the fact in my extensive research of you. So, a plan blossomed in my mind. Something that would be painful on so many levels that you cannot even fathom what it will be like. It’s something that must be experienced. The musky, distinguishable scent of the encounter will forever haunt your soul once I am finished with you, Senator.” She guffawed at her own inner thought.

  Panic washed over Senator McGill’s face. He thrashed to the extent that the restraints would allow. The table suddenly doubled over, lowering his feet and head so they nearly touched the floor.

  “You, my good Senator McGill, are about to experience the most pain that you could ever endure on a physical, mental or emotional level.” Her footfalls grew quiet, out of sight. Pops and squeaks of what sounded like old rusted hinges rang out in the circular room. The very distinctive clip-clop, clip-clop of hooves on the tiled floor accompanied her as she re-appeared within his field of view. Following closely behind her was a dappled gray horse led by a long leather tether.

  “Mr. McGill, I would like to introduce you to my friend, Bruce. Bruce, this is Senator John McGill,” she tittered. “Bruce here is the Madam’s prize stallion. He has made the Madam quite the small fortune in breeding fees alone over his lifetime. And of all the mares over all the years, he has never once had trouble mounting his quarry. To be honest the stable hands have had more trouble in keeping ol’ Bruce here from mounting anything he can get hold of. Too bad men aren’t as reliable,” she sighed. “A good mounting can be hard to find.”

  The Senator whimpered. His eyes bulged with confused disbelief as he struggled against the restraints.

  “Excuse me, I digress. Just trust me, Senator. You have never and may never again experience pain such as that which you are about to receive.” She continued her slow stride around the table, leading Bruce out of the Senator’s range of vision.

  Muffled screams of panic erupted around the ball gag in the Senator’s mouth. Large veins pulsed across his reddening face as he struggled against the restraints.

  The room exploded into a flurry of smoke, fire, and motion. The main entrance flung open as soldiers in full riot gear flooded into the room and surrounded the trio. Their submachine guns trained on the scantily clad dominatrix. She tugged against Bruce’s reigns as he reared to escape.

  “Friends of yours Senator?” She smiled at the soldiers. “Oh how I do love a challenge,” she purred. She stroked the side of Bruce’s neck, soothing the scared beast. “You’ll be alright, big guy. Did these bad men scare you?” She dropped the tether and stepped toward the nearest soldier. The entire room resounded with the clatter of rounds being chambered. She stopped. “Aw, too bad, and I had such high hopes of a good mounting,” she chortled.

  A new figure, a sergeant by the rank on his sleeves entered the room. He tucked his helmet beneath his right arm as he produced a piece of paper from a pocket. The sergeant unfolded the paper and began to read. “Elizabeth, Lizz, Trower, you are under arrest. The charges against you will be presented at the time of your processing. Any resistance will result in immediate execution without fault or liability against the Independent Alliance. What say you?”

  She glanced back over her shoulder toward the quivering form of Senator McGill. “I am so sorry that our time has been cut short, Senator. It looks as if I have a more pressing engagement. Another time perhaps? And
to think of all the fun that we were about to have,” she cackled.

  The Vortex,

  Atlanta, Georgia, USA

  May 12, 2176 / 1735 hrs local time

  “T

  here is absolutely nothing like being back home,” Captain Douglas Rackham said while entering the song code into the jukebox. “Well, maybe not home exactly, but besides the Betty, Atlanta is the closest thing any of us really have to a hometown.” He returned to his table and happily forced his mouth around a massively oversized burger. Small dribbles of bacon grease glistened across his chin as he chewed. His gaze darted from an odd antique on the wall to the ancient BMW motorcycle suspended from the ceiling to a fake shark’s head, mounted high on the wall behind the bar. “Huh, I wonder where Joyland Park actually was?” He pondered a sign that hung just a few feet away, then looked back at his science officer, Wesley Skaggs, a tall, husky framed fellow. “Hey, I just don’t get it. I thought you were supposed to be the grand wizard of all things tech. You do call yourself The Geek for a reason, don’t you?” He dove at the burger once again.

  Wes looked up from the SAPP implant in his forearm, his eyes wide with an ecstatic cherubic grin. “Indeed, I am, my captain, but in this case, even a wizard needs the help of a thief.” He pulled the sleeve of his gray-green flight suit over his forearm, then brushed back his shaggy blond hair from his eyes.

  Doug scowled at Wes with a sidelong glance. “Explain,” he murmured around a mouthful of masticated meat. Impatience colored Doug’s face.

  “Think of it like this.” Wes paused abruptly as he glanced around the room. “See that three-foot-tall penis by the door? Consider that wooden dong as the documents we want to acquire, and this restaurant is the server that they’re stored in. When you crossed the state line into Georgia you had to show your ID papers. To get through the Atlanta regional defense system, you had to show your ID papers another three times. Which all in all isn’t such a big deal, but this place, this place is some super-secret squirrel shit right here. Even looking in the direction of this place will draw attention, not to mention trying to get in the door will most likely get you killed. You have to have the password, no way around it. Like that super-secret squirrel handshake that you have to know to get into the Nunnery over on the east side of town. Oh my God, that place was just phenomenal, the things I learned that night.” He blankly stared into nothing as memories flooded his mind. He shook his head. “I digress, where was I again?”