Read Online Singularity's Ring by Paul Melko - Free Book Online Page B

scurried. The dirt exuded its musty smell, mingling with the dogwoods that bounded the edge of the garden.
    I smiled, knowing he could see my emotion. He could see all of me, as if he were a member of my pod. I was disclosed, though he remained aloof.
    “Soon,” he said, when I pried at his light, and then he took hold of me and we made love again in the garden, the grass tickling my back like a thousand tongues.
     
    In the golden aftermath, Malcolm’s face emerged from within the ball of light, his eyes closed. As I examined his face, it expanded before me, I fell into his left nostril, into his skull, and all of him was laid open to me.
    In the garden, next to the ivy-covered stone walls, I began to retch. Even within the virtual reality of the interface box, I tasted my bile. He’d lied to me.
     
    I had no control of my body. The interface box sat on the couch beside me as it had when we’d started, but pseudo-reality was gone. Malcolm was behind me—I could hear him packing a bag—but I couldn’t will my head to turn.
    “We’ll head for the Belem elevator. Once we’re on the Ring, we’re safe. They can’t get to us. Then they’ll have to deal with me.”
    There was a water stain on the wall, a blemish that I could not tear my eyes away from.
    “We’ll recruit people from singleton enclaves. They
may not recognize my claim, but they will recognize my power.”
    My eyes began to tear, not from the strain. He’d used me, and I, silly girl, had fallen for him. He had seduced me, taken me as a pawn, as a valuable to bargain with.
    “It may take a generation. I’d hoped it wouldn’t. There are cloning vats on the Ring. You are excellent stock, and if raised from birth, you will be much more malleable.”
    If he had me, part of one of the starpods, he thought he’d be safe from the Overgovernment. But he didn’t know that our pod was sundered. He didn’t realize how useless this all was.
    “All right, Meda. Time to go.”
    Out of the corner of my eye I saw him insert the connection into his interface, and my legs lifted me up off the couch. My rage surged through me, and my neck erupted in pheromones.
    “Jesus, what’s that smell?”
    Pheromones! His interface controlled my body, my throat, my tongue, my cunt, but not my mods. He’d never thought of it. I screamed with all my might, scent exploding from my glands. Anger, fear, revulsion.
    Malcolm opened the door, fanned the air. His gun bulged at his waist. “We’ll pick up some perfume for you on the way.” He disappeared out the door with two bags, one mine, while I stood with the interface box in my outstretched arms.
    Still I screamed, saturating the air with my words, until my glands were empty, spent, and my autonomous nervous system silenced me. I strained to hear something from outside. There was nothing.
    Malcolm reappeared. “Let’s go.” My legs goose-stepped me from the cottage.
    I tasted our thoughts as I passed the threshold. My pod was out there, too far for me to understand, but close.

    With the last of my pheromones, I signaled, Help .
    “Into the aircar,” Leto said.
    Something yanked at my neck and my body spasmed as I collapsed. I caught sight of Manuel on the cottage roof, holding the interface box.
    Leto pulled his gun and spun. Manuel threw the interface box at him.
    Something else flew by me, and Leto cried out, dropping the pistol. I stood, wobbly, and ran into the woods, until someone caught me, and suddenly I was in our mesh.
    As my face was buried in Strom’s chest and my palms squeezed against his, I watched with other eyes—Moira’s eyes!—as Leto scrambled into the aircar and started the turbines.
    He’s not going far.
    We played with his hydrogen regulator.
    Also turned his beacon back on.
    Thanks for coming. Sorry.
    I felt dirty, empty. My words barely formed. I released all that had happened, all that I had done, all my foolish thoughts into them. I expected their anger, their rejection. I expected them