Moonsteed (10 page)

“
What do you know about John Aaron?
” she asked, dumping the computer on the bed.

“
Nothing. I’ve never heard the name before.
”

“
Ya. That or you just won’t tell me
.”

“
If I couldn’t tell you, I’d say so
.”

Verity checked her inbox. The ANT had finished collecting all the file fragments she’d requested and had them ready for her to read. Verity felt restless and mentally disheveled. She didn’t feel at all like sitting and reading through all the fragments now. She’d take a horse for a run in the centrifuge. That should clear her head. Perhaps things would start to add up after that.

As she reached over to switch the computer off, it said to her, “
I will point one thing out to you. The data on this computer is off-limits, but anyone can read from it when the owner last logged on
.”

Verity found the date. “That was the day before the arrest warrant was issued,” she murmured. “So he must have found whatever data he was looking for in the time between, and he never interfaced to the computer knowing it, so you’re saying you don’t know it?”

“
Correct
.”

She headed wearily for the horse block.

A bad atmosphere that Verity couldn’t pin down permeated the stables. When she went to a horse and synced to it, she sensed something ugly in its temperament. “
Oh, be calm
,” she thought, putting her hand to its neck to soothe it as it threw its head up, rolling its eyes and flicking its tail. She sent the thought-prompt to the horse’s monitoring system for a status report on its condition. When the report came back, something was out of order--something she’d never seen on the feedbacks of any of the horses here. It took a few seconds for her to work it out. The horse had come into estrus.

Damn
. Verity closed the stall door. Vladimir, where was Vladimir? The ANT said he was in his quarters, but when she tried to message him there was a DND warning on his interface. Stupid man. As Verity calculated from the ANT’s information where Vladimir’s quarters were and what was the best route, the stallion put his head over his stall door, broadcasting lust and frustration. He strained his neck toward the ovulating mare’s stall, pulled his upper lip back over his teeth and sucked in a draught of air.

“Yes, all right!” said Verity to him, angry. “You can have your evil way with her when I find Vladimir!” She ran back into the main corridor and made her way to the lower floor and the room the ANT told her Vladimir lived in. She pounded on the door with her fist. “Vladimir!”

The door opened after a moment. “Verity, I’m trying to work.” Vladimir’s hair stuck up all around his head, his glasses propped up on his forehead and the top three buttons of his shirt unfastened.

Verity found herself staring at the gap in his shirt, annoyance and disapproval mingling with something else. “You look more like you’ve been asleep! And this is your work. A mare’s in estrus!”

“Damn! I’m sorry.” Vladimir hurried into the corridor, doing up his shirt as he went. “You should have told me.”

“I did tell you! If you hadn’t told the ANT you were DND, you would have heard!”

“Sorry,” said Vladimir.

Verity turned to face to him, taking hopping quicksteps backward as she spoke. “Stop saying
sorry
. Just don’t do it again!”

The stallion whinnied as they came through the stable block door. Vladimir’s eyes grew wide.

“Wait here,” Verity told him. “I’ll take the mare out to the corral first, and then we’ll come back for him.”

Verity re-synced herself and put the head collar on the mare. She wouldn’t need any shoes for this. The horse pulled on the halter and swayed from side to side as Verity led her out, and she was nothing like the gentle, reasonable beast Verity knew her as. Verity brought her not to the doors that led to outside, but down another corridor and to the corral, a large circular room fitted with a mesh floor planted with hydroponic grass and a transparent dome for a ceiling. This room was an experiment, but they often put the horses in here, only one at any time, if they were off-color, and it would have to do for a stud room.

At the sight and smell of the grass, the horse lost interest in her mating urge for a moment and dropped her head to begin ripping up the grass with her teeth, leaving patches of bare gauze behind. Verity unclipped the lead rope from the halter and went back to the stable block, shutting the gate behind her.

She opened the stable door to a cacophony of snorting and stamping. Vladimir stood in the midst of it, looking bewildered.

“What have you done to them?” Verity demanded.

“Nothing!” Vladimir had put the head collar on the stallion, and the interface on the star on his forehead showed he was synced. He moved restlessly about his loose box, banging his knees against the door. Near the main entrance, the big mare thrust her head out of her stall, ears back, and whinnied. The noises from the other horses lessened somewhat, and the stallion stood still. Verity felt relief that it had not been that mare who had come into season first, for surely there’d be bedlam if it had been so.

“Okay,” said Verity. “Let’s bring him out slowly.” She unlocked the door and opened it. The stallion took a leap forward. Vladimir clung on to the rope grimly. The horse backed up and reared, and Vladimir let go and ran inside the stallion’s stall, slamming the door behind him. The stallion thundered down the block to the main door and neighed, rearing again and dropping his forefeet heavily.

“I can’t manage this,” Vladimir whimpered. “Can’t you take him? Please?”

“Oh, all right!” Verity shouted. “You’d better get down to the corral and take control of the mare!” She went to the stallion, reached up and grabbed his head collar. She managed to get her hand to his implant, and synced him to her. It took all her will to force him down and get him to stand while she opened the door to let Vladimir out to the mare. Verity positioned herself in the entrance to the block, holding him still until Vladimir shouted down the corridor that he had the mare.

Verity walked ahead of the stallion, struggling to dominate him with her mind. It was when he saw the gate to the corral that she lost him. He lurched forward and Verity fell on her knees, still gripping the rope. He dragged her several paces, his hoofs ringing on the floor not far from her ear while she repeatedly gave him the thought-prompt to stop. She lost her hold on the rope and he charged, jumping the gate into the corral.

“Bloody horse!” Verity cursed as Vladimir ran out. He bent over to help her up.

“Are you all right?”

“Of course I’m all right!” When she looked at him, she noticed he stood awkwardly, his knees bent, trying to conceal a swelling in the crotch of his trousers. “You’re disgusting!”

Vladimir went red in the face. “The horses did it.”

“What do you mean, horses did it? What are you, a pervert?”

Vladimir drew his eyebrows down, furrowing his forehead. “You know what I mean, damn it!”

Verity shoved him away, back toward the corral. “Just shut up and concentrate on controlling the horse!” She went to the gate, unsure of what they would do if the mare decided she wasn’t going to co-operate and attacked the stallion. An angry horse who could not feel fear and a randy horse who was very much afraid sounded like a recipe for disaster.

Inside the corral, the two horses stood, their flanks facing each other, ears twitching. Verity forced down the anger and confusion she felt, and tried to broadcast calmness, feelings of welcome and co-operation. “Don’t get into the ring with them,” she muttered to Vladimir through gritted teeth. “Whatever happens, stay behind the fence.”

Around the barrier of the corral was a walkway, and Vladimir moved along so he was near to the mare. The sound of her blowing air through her nostrils came loud, sounding more like bellows for operating some sort of industrial machinery than the lungs of a living animal. The stallion nickered and took a step closer. His huge, feathery feet were silent on the carpet of grass, but his weight sent tremors through the hydroponics mesh that Verity sensed through the soles of her boots. His huge phallus hung like a murderous black python to the level of his hocks, and it writhed and moved with questing purpose. Tails swished. The stallion sniffed, his head coming closer to the rear end of the mare. She raised her tail and a spurt of urine splashed the blades of grass. If he ran at her and tried to mount, it would only frustrate her. It was up to Verity to make sure he did it in a controlled manner.

His muzzle came closer. His lips smacked and he started to lick greedily under the mare’s tail. A rank, musky horse taste filled Verity’s mouth and she couldn’t stop herself from grimacing, bringing up saliva and swallowing to get rid of the flavor. When she looked at Vladimir, his eyes were shut and he leaned against the wall. Sweat beaded his forehead and she couldn’t make out his expression.

The mare lowered her hindquarters and a shiver passed over her. With a sudden, crazy burst of maddened excitement, the stallion whirled about and leapt twelve feet in the air, kicking out his hind feet, mane and tail flying. A bloody lust overtook Verity. She could feel how he desired that mare, how her scent maddened him and how he craved every inch of her glorious ebon body. He turned back toward the mare and reared, tried to mount her sideways on. For an instant Verity forgot where she was, and she felt more like the stallion than herself, with the soft, fresh-smelling grass moist against his hoofs and that throbbing, aching thing under his belly that burned with a passion that could only be quenched by sinking it into horse-flesh. He could not put his feet there. That wouldn’t work. She made him move, taking up position behind the mare, and when he reared this time, he could come forward, so his sternum landed on the mare’s back. She felt him sink in with a tremor that ran through the ligaments in her groin.

When she opened her eyes the stallion was up on the mare, hoofs shuffling and loins quivering, and it was almost over. He backed up and slid off, dropping back down on all fours.

Verity looked to Vladimir, slumped against the wall and sweating.

“I think they’ve finished,” he said.

She turned back to the horses. They had finished, but the turmoil the stallion had created hadn’t dissipated and, looking back at Vladimir with his shirt all plastered to his skin with sweat and the lump in his trousers made it worse. He stared as she advanced on him. Her hands landed on his shoulders and she pushed him over. “Hey, careful! Ow!”

Verity fell on top of him and ripped his shirt open. The odor of his sweat was rich, like cedar wood, and his skin tasted like insanity. His hands were down at his waist, fighting his belt off, and Verity tore her uniform undone and wriggled out if it, pulling it down to her knees. His erection was like rock and each syncopated thrust sent sharp buzzing sensations racing up her spine. Verity knew she was roaring like an animal, but she didn’t seem to be able to stop, and Vladimir was gasping and yelping at a volume that surely everyone in the facility would be able to hear. Fire burned up through the nerves of her legs. When it came to a crescendo, she clamped down her pelvic muscles on him, digging her knees into his flanks. Vladimir let off a weird growl through bared teeth, his back arched, and his thumbs dug into her elbows as she felt him spill inside her. She fell forward on his chest, breathing hard. The haze of madness steadily faded.

A rich scent of grass filled her senses. Verity opened her eyes. Through the space under the barriers at the paddock perimeter she could make out eight hoofs. Vladimir’s body fitted against hers, his sweaty shoulder unexpectedly comfortable against her cheek as they both breathed rapidly. She twisted off of him and the sticky mess they’d made everywhere, and looked to the entrance to the corridor. “
Shit
!
Do you think anyone saw that?”

Vladimir pushed himself up on his elbows, his breath coming rapidly. “I don’t know. What happened?”

Verity suddenly felt very self-conscious sitting in front of him in a t-shirt with her uniform and her knickers round her knees. She stood, pulling them back up and quickly getting her arms back into the sleeves. “What do you think happened? Don’t they teach sex education in Russia?”

He glared at her from the floor. “Well, they don’t do a practical exam in it, if that’s what that was!”

“Put your clothes on before someone comes,” said Verity. The horses stood in the corral, side to side facing opposite directions like Yin and Yang. Their tails swished across each other’s heads as they cropped the grass. They seemed completely unperturbed.

Vladimir pulled his trousers back up and tried to fasten his shirt. All the buttons had come away when Verity had ripped it off him. “Look what you did!” he exclaimed. “How am I supposed to walk across the compound looking
like this
?”

Verity started to laugh. Suddenly the whole situation was ridiculous. She gave the thought-prompt to the stallion to come to her and he obeyed. Taking hold of his lead rope, she led him back to the stable block, still laughing. “Put the mare back in her stall.”

He slunk off as quickly as he could after putting the horses away. Verity went back to her quarters and had a shower and put her Vladimir-smelling clothes in the laundry chute. Suddenly she felt more clear-headed than she had in ages, scrubbing herself briskly and grinning in the shower about the ludicrousness of it all. This was exactly the right state of mind to go through the file fragments the ANT had uncovered.

Most of them had become so corrupted they were illegible. As Verity searched through them, she began to despair of finding anything useful. Then a mangled signature caught her attention, and she spotted her own name farther up in the same document. The hexadecimal fragmentation had caused six out of every sixteen characters to become lost:

A...CORNELIAN

M...A ORDER SP...K TO OPERA...ORDERED TE...ION ON SIG...E ARREST W... *UNLIKELY ...POND*.

SGT...VERITY

MAGN...RDER MEMBE...ETIC ENGIN... PROJECT R... NOT KNOWN...SSESS KNOWL...F OPERATIO...ELLIGENT A...D TO INFLU...SPARE IF P...E.