Regan's Reach (22 page)

"Now there was a truly great man!"
Ham interrupted.

"My father," Marin continued
after an annoyed pause, "as a descendant of one of the building families, was
the senior council member and my mother now sits in his seat. I will not take
that seat, I'm no politician. My sister Sindali is well respected and will fill
that role well, in fact the council wants her there sooner rather than later."

"Unfortunately the witch is not . . ."

"Ham!" Regan scolded him. "This
is Marin's mother."

Surprisingly Marin supported Ham, "Regan,
I'm sad to say it but Ham is right. My parents marriage was arranged and there
was little affection. I have a wonderful sister from it and two half brothers,
that is enough. She was always a difficult woman."

Marin hesitated and looked embarrassed. "Regan,
you should know this too. No one calls me Marin there. My name is Merali, it
means barren. It was a double insult, I was born sterile and my mother wanted a
girl."

"She made him sterile!" Ham
interjected angrily.

"I don't understand, what do you mean
- made him sterile?" Regan sounded confused.

Marin dropped his head into his hands so
Ham continued.

"Hereditary lines are determined in
the womb on Dahlia. It's an orbital with limited space, so they have population
control. Parents can decide which of their children will be fertile, to carry
on the family line, and Beria decided when Marin was still in her womb that she
didn't want him to have children."

"But he would have been her eldest, I
still don't understand."

Marin looked up. "Regan, as I said, it
was an arranged marriage, my mother didn't want my father's line to be heirs."

"Why didn't your father . . ."

"He was away when she was carrying me,"
he interrupted, "and she made the decision then. When he returned I was
already eight months old. He told me later that he was enraged when he found
out and he always called me Marin to spite her, and so did the ship . . . Ham."

"What a bitch! How could she do that
so calculatedly?" She shook her head, disbelieving. "You're right
Ham, she's a witch!"

"She had a lover, before my father,
Regan, she's always preferred him." Marin explained.

"Oh don't make excuses for her that
man is a pompous fart!" Ham exclaimed, "He's never produced anything
of value in his life."

"But you have a sister and brothers
Marin, what happened with them?"

"Father found out my fate after they
had conceived my sister Sindali. He made sure Sin didn't suffer the same
treatment and she now has two beautiful children. As for my brothers, they are
half brothers, to the pompous fart." Marin seemed drained by all the
revelations.

Bitch!
Regan
thought again.
Such a spiteful action to do that and name him Merali, her
first son!
She quietly fumed.

"Guys," she said, suddenly standing,
"we need a break." She walked first to Marin and hugged him hard,
then without another word she left for her room. She would process this over
time she knew. For Marin and Ham it was normal, even if they weren't happy with
it, to her it was an abomination.

Much later, in the quiet of the room Regan
lay practicing, accessing the data functions of her device and she found just
thinking a question was enough for the answer to be there. She had no idea how
the process worked but it was becoming so fluid and effortless that it seemed
easy, so easy and automatic in fact that she found it hard to be shocked by new
knowledge. It felt natural to know things, instinctively, as if the knowledge
had always been there. It also slightly disturbed her that the more she
practiced the answers were there before she'd even fully framed the question.

Like Google,
she thought.
Just a few letters typed in or words spoken and instantly all the
options desired are there, only this is a thousand times faster, faster even
than conscious thought? It's time to consult the Oracle.

[Ham, I'm practicing accessing information.]

[And?]

[It occurs to me that if I'm accessing the
device I'm really accessing you, am I right?]

[In a way, yes.]

[In a way . . . what does that mean? It
seems to me that you're so in my thoughts that you're effectively anticipating
them, is that right?]

[Regan, you remember when I explained about
the device; I described it as a closed booth with a passenger, a passenger that
you could access any time you wanted and that you held the power to open the
curtain or to shut it, remember?]

[Yeah . . . I never shut it. I didn't see
any reason to.]

[Exactly, right from the beginning, you
never pulled the curtains. You're a remarkable woman Regan, incredibly open.
Most people have things they hide even from themselves, things they're in
denial about, you don't seem to be like that.]

[Help me out here, give me an example.]

[Well, a person might want to be a singer,
but they can't really sing. Because they can't face that truth they deny it,
and over time the lie becomes truth to them. You seem so open and unafraid.
Your preference is to face truth, not deny it and if it's something you haven't
recognized before then when it comes to light you seem to welcome it, like new
scientific information.]

[Well, of course, isn't that normal?]

[No way, it's very unusual.]

[Ok, I'm looking for new information now.
I agree, right from the beginning I left the curtain open, and it does seem
this ability, this access, has become more and more fluid, more automatic. Does
that mean we're more connected? Where do I stop and you start?]

[Well we're talking to each other now aren't
we? I'm still me and you're still you.]

She thought about that for awhile. [You
know, I have always talked to myself inside my head, as if one part of me was addressing
another, I guess it does feel a bit like that.]

[Perhaps it is.]

[Does that mean all your data is there,
available to me, I can just think and the answer will be there? That does seem
to be the way it's working.]

[It appears so, no barriers, no curtains;
if that's the way you want it.]

[We're kind of wedded together then aren't
we?]

[Only if you choose it.]

Regan lay there thinking for a minute. [So
does this mean . . . you've been there, through everything, since the
beginning?]

[As I said, you left the curtain open, you
chose to and as a consequence I experience what is running live through you.]

[So you can see too!?]

[I couldn't at first. It was a surprise
actually and came as the connections developed. The images you see are
interpreted digitally, I could even replay them . . . but I won't of course!
Your eyes are like camera lenses.]

[Hmm, that could be useful. Sooo, you were
there, all the time, during . . .]

[Yes.]

[And . . .?]

[Spectacular!]

Regan laughed out loud. [It is, isn't it?
Oh . . . my . . . god!]

She swung her legs off the bed and sat up,
looking thoughtful. [I did wonder. It felt kind of kinky, like having an
audience.]

[Is that a problem?] Ham asked

[No,] and she surprised herself with the
thought. [I think I like it.]

*

Regan was relieved when that night they
returned to their own rooms without any discussion as she preferred to sleep
alone. The other truth, as Ham would put it, was that great, even truly great
sex was not love, not in Regan's mind.

In the quiet she lay there reflecting on
her life.
I'm a contradiction in terms, the nerd athlete
.

She remembered being tall and clumsy from
seven to thirteen, always the gangly duck and intimidating slower maturing boys
because of her height. In her teens, as the boys caught up she was still taller
than most but developing as an athlete and on top of that she was smarter. The
net result was very few relationships,
well, absolutely none, to be truthful
she thought ruefully.

There had been a few guys at university,
and she enjoyed the sex, a lot. But then there was training and travel to
competitions, crammed study when home, and business. As a consequence serious
relationships took a distant second place. There had been none in fact, and she
rarely thought about it.
Am I happy with that? . . . For now, yes
, she
thought and felt better for coming to the conclusion. She drifted into
dreamless sleep.

The morning workout was charged with sexual
tension, she could feel it. Surprisingly neither made moves toward the other
and instead they pushed up the weights and worked to sweaty exhaustion. An hour
later, dripping, they retired to shower and without asking Marin followed Regan
to her room. She made no comment and simply stripped her suit dropping it
casually on the floor. She turned to Marin and without a word, loosed and
peeled his suit, rolling it down over his hips to his feet. He stepped aside
and Regan found she was crouched facing him. She reached out and took him in
hand, then with a nod of her head tugged him gently in the direction of the
bathroom, "Shower!"

He followed; moving quickly to activate the
stream and then began to wash her slowly. She let him, reveling in the
experience and gasping as he knelt to lap at her sex, sucking on her hungrily,
where
did he get this experience?
And she immediately gave thanks that Ham
appeared to know when not to answer a question.

Surprising her with his strength he lifted
her against the wall. "Please Marin, not now, later." He nodded and
lowered her gently to the floor. She slowly washed him thinking,
this may be
the last time, is it Dahlia tomorrow?
As they were drying, a palpable
atmosphere of anticipation filled the room.

Marin pulled Regan into the room and spun
her to face the bed. Firmly he put one arm around her waist and with the other
bent her forward. She could feel her heart racing as she responded, bracing her
arms on the high bunk and parting to give him room. She felt one hand on her
back and fingers reaching through to massage her and she could tell he was
poised, hearing him slowly stroking behind her, keeping ready. Somehow he
seemed to know and just as she felt her climax approaching, he entered tipping
her over. Powerfully her orgasm struck and he filled her at the same moment with
one smooth movement.

Later, Marin half lay on the bed his back
against the wall, caressing Regan's head as he looked down at her. She curled
up, her head on his belly, still coming down and thoroughly sated. He said
nothing as she casually stroked him.

"Marin did you . . ."

"No." He interrupted her. "I
wanted you to enjoy it. It could be our last time." He sounded content.

Her eyes were fixed on him; she reached
behind her with one hand, open.

"Marin?" was all she said.

He dropped the tube into her hand and Regan
squeezed a generous amount over his length before lifting him and beginning to
slowly stroke, long and steady drawing gasps with every movement. She could
hear his breath quickening and saw his hand grip the sheet tight, bunching it
in his fist as the telling groan began to build. Her eyes closed tightly and
she thrilled with a feeling of power like nothing she had experienced before.

Chapter
Three: Dahlia Orbital

A rose by any other name, would smell as
sweet

Coming out of warp was a revelation as in
the Gliese 667 system the starscape really did look different. Ham's virtual
tour for Regan was like following a documentary, revealing Gliese 667 as a
triple star system with planets that looked different in unearthly ways, some huge
by comparison, and six orbitals that exceeded all Regan's expectations.
Why
hadn't I asked to see them before?
she thought.

Most of course was file footage as they
were still in the outskirts of the system, however viewing it while actually
being there built her sense of anticipation unbearably. For the first time she
felt truly nervous but there was no going back and she didn't want to.

Expecting the orbitals to be gathered
around a single planet she was surprised to find they were far apart, orbiting
different planets and stars. Ham and Marin became more and more animated,
explaining things with an excitement that was infectious. She didn't have the
heart to point out that all this background and history was as available to her
now as it was to them. As questions came to her mind they were just as quickly
answered,
and
Ham must know this
she thought,
but it doesn't
diminish his excitement.

Marin's orbital was the smallest of the six
in population and as Ham manipulated the image zooming in from a distance she
understood why he had called it Dahlia. It did truly look like a flower, with
petals reaching out from a central bulb. The petals, Ham explained, served as
huge energy gatherers from a star less luminous than Earths’ sun. Some simply
stored solar energy while others doubled as enormous glasshouses providing food
that Dahlia traded with other more industrialized orbitals. As she watched the
recordings in wonder, Regan could see tall thin people working fields with
machines she didn't recognize, walking through parks and swimming in lakes that
seemed to extend for kilometers. All this in petals she knew must be large
beyond her comprehension.

Marin pointed out details on the central
bulb and explained it was a city of sorts with most of the habitation space and
with parks and recreation areas of its own. Although Dahlia had a significant
manufacturing industry, supplied with raw material from its partner planet,
this wasn't a large part of their economy. He described everything proudly.

Marin left for the galley while she leaned
back and mentally reviewed the statistics. The population was three hundred
million with four hundred thousand on the planet. Small compared with the other
system orbitals, the largest of which held six billion souls. Six billion! On
an orbital, in space! These orbitals were like planets.

How had all this happened?
Strangely she found no reasonable answer came to mind, her only
thoughts feeling more like myths. The building blocks of origin were absent
from the data
and that is a mystery to be explored in the future,
she
thought.

Regan's nerves were acute with only another
day cruising before they drew near to Dahlia. Seeing so many people at work and
play reminded her that she would be the alien here. She was a 'somebody' at
home, indeed a beauty, here she would be the outsider, squat, muscled and
bulky. What would they think of her?
I'm going to need friends,
she
thought.

Suddenly the two months on ship seemed
unreal, something that happened an age ago,
how could I have grown so
complacent?

[Ham, do you have any visuals of Sindali?]

Immediately on the wall Ham slowly scrolled
through file footage, clearly from the last few years as this tall willowy
woman looked not much younger than Marin. She seemed to move with grace and
dignity.

There was Sindali visiting the sick in hospital,
sitting surrounded by laughing children in a park, at a large table with
officials smiling and clearly seeking her favor. There was footage of her
working a machine in the fields with people running behind the harvester, eager
to keep up. Yet another showed her descending from a vessel, possibly at
another orbital, with crowds cheering and everywhere Regan noted, members of
her guard seemed to watch over her jealously, devoted.

"The People's Princess." She
whispered.

"They do love her," Ham
commented, "Not just on Dahlia but throughout the system. On the more
industrial orbitals life on Dahlia seems like a dream, and she's the dream
princess."

"She's not a soft flake is she?"

"Don't mistake respect for role and
tradition as weakness. She has her father's values and steel."

"What about Beria? What do you have on
her?"

"She's a witch, what more can I tell
you?"

"No, what visuals do you have? I'd
like to know what she looks like."

Ham displayed picture after picture, all
viewed from the ugliest, most unflattering angle. If they were to be believed
Beria was a troll.

"Just a little biased in your
perspective, don't you think?" Regan observed carefully.

"I don't know what you're talking
about, I think I've been generous, that's exactly what she looks like." He
was unrepentant.

It was a waste of time pursuing the matter
and Regan decided it would be best to leave it.

She uncurled herself from the chair and
followed Marin to the galley.

[Are you ok?] Ham sounded concerned for
her.

[I'm fine Ham, just a bit nervous. Nothing
a coffee and comfort eating won't fix.]

[Let's do something positive.] He prompted [Assuming
you get to go home sooner rather than later consider what things you would like
to take back with you? What's on your shopping list? That should give you something
to think about.]

She hesitated in the doorway.
What a
great idea!
Energized, she quickly poured a coffee, grabbed a selection of
treats and made for the war room. "Ham, I'd like to make some notes, can
you set me up with a touch type screen please?"

"No problem, touch the desk in front
of you and I'll establish a QWERTY keyboard. You'll be able to access the file
in future by simply asking. I understand shopping therapy is popular where you
come from, so, have some fun."

In only a few minutes her mind was buzzing,
her fingers tapping furiously while the list and side notes grew longer and
longer. When Marin looked in an hour later he could see immediately she did not
want to be interrupted, she was totally engaged. Along with the list her
general ideas crystallized quickly and a growing excitement about the future
began to grip her. Then, suddenly without warning, an irrational fear swept
through her, that she wouldn't get home, that these plans would never be realized.
Almost immediately, a soothing calm passed through her in a manner so
unexpected and unlikely she knew it had to have been triggered in some way.

"Ham, what happened then?"

"You lost it for a second there and it
hit me like an alarm so I triggered a release of hormones to calm you down. It
was all natural, I'm learning all the time."

"I'm not sure I like that Ham, and now
that I know you can do that let me ask in future please. There are advantages
to fear at times and I'm not a patient, capiche?"

"Yes godmother, are we good now?"

"We're good. I'd like you to review my
list and consider what might be reasonable. I know I've asked a lot but I'm
guessing if the ship requests provisioning these things might be possible.
Also, once you've considered my plans if there's anything else you feel that I've
missed you can add it."

"It's quite a list."

"Well - you said it, I needed lots of
therapy!"

Marin and Regan sat in the control room,
eyes glued to the screen as the Dahlian orbital grew in their vision. Her chest
tight with stress, Regan was tempted to ask Ham to release some calming
influence, but the approach to the destination seemed so rapid she preferred to
be alert. Instead she sat curled in the seat with arms crossed, hands
obsessively brushing the opposite biceps as if trying to stroke away tension.
Marin leant forward, reaching across to squeeze her arm. They made eye contact
and he smiled a tight smile.

"It's going to be all right, Regan."
He squeezed again, and then returned his gaze to the screen.

She could see they were approaching the
bulb from underneath with the petals soaring over them, one moment still in
light then suddenly they were in shadow, hidden from the dim star. As they drew
nearer she became aware how distorted her view had been, as from a distance
there was nothing to compare the orbital with in this area of space.

The minutes ticked by on her watch, each
glance reminding her that distances were deceptive. The ship really was a very,
very small ball, like a speck of dust approaching an enormous, inconceivably
large structure. Gradually detail on the bulb became clearer, huge windows,
vents, platforms and vessels of all shapes moving in ordered paths across the
face. Nothing more was said as the majesty of their destination was revealed
and Regan acknowledged she was awestruck by the sight
and this is a small
orbital!

[Not small in size,] Ham reminded her
[Smaller in population - it's actually one of the bigger in total area.]

They swept under the bulb, drawing ever
nearer.

"There it is!" Marin said,
excited to point out his base.

Regan followed his direction and saw they
were making for a concave gap in the surface. It was clear to her, although she
couldn't tell its size, that they would slot into that space.

[We dock from the side.] Ham explained
silently [That way the Pods and other vessels are free for use.]

That they were approaching side on wasn't
evident from the screen as they always had a forward view. She understood
however and watched spellbound as the concave space filled the screen, until
nothing. Then she heard a familiar clunk sparking memories of the Pod and her
sense of a lock closing. A shudder again passed down her back.

Ham broke the silence. "Let's review
quickly while we can. Regan, you must stay silent, you can speak your own
language but nothing else."

"I've got it Ham."

"And I can sub-vocalize to you, but
you mustn't reply, and Regan . . . ." Ham hesitated.

She waited. "Yes? What?"

"Don't hit anyone!" He was
serious.

"Why would I do that?" She said, slightly
offended.

"Oh you'll see," Marin sounded
resigned. "We'll exit via deck five Regan; we might as well get down
there." Then he turned to her and took both her hands. Looking into her
eyes he seemed genuinely sad.

"Regan, no matter what happens; I'm
grateful, thank you. If my family doesn't do the right things try to get back
to Ham, and run!"

She knew he was anticipating problems with
his web and tried to reassure him, "It won't come to that Marin. You'll be
fine, we need you."

[Regan, I have another idea. I've
downloaded details about the orbital that will help us. I won't speak to you
from the ship unless I have to, and I will always say 'ship'. That way you'll
know not to reply. If I don't say ship then our conversation is all internal
and we'll be able to converse without detection, and remember, even Marin doesn't
know I'm here in you.]

[Thanks Ham. I've never been so happy to
have an invisible friend.]

It all suddenly became seriously real, not
just a plan. Regan felt as if the blood was draining from her face and she sat rigid
for a moment. But then she dug deep, summoned familiar competition strength,
and stood. She was the first to speak.

"Right, let's do this thing!"

A few minutes later and they were walking
across the deck on level five. Regan looked sideways at Marin and he looked
confident if serious;
we're both keyed up,
she thought. Ready for action,
she hoped they didn't look defensive and couldn't help wondering,
how
do
we look?
She reflected on the thought, both in black ship suits, he taller
by at least twenty centimeters and lean muscled, she in excellent shape by Earth
standards but heavily muscled compared with Marin's people.
Stocky,
she
thought,
ugh
! It struck her they might look like an odd pair,
the odd
couple.

Ham's voice broke the heavy silence. "Before
I open up you need to see this Marin."

The curved hull lit up with live visuals as
they approached. The image presented as if looking at the outside through a
large window and they paused to take in the scene. Fifteen people were gathered
and they looked tense. Regan noted their dress was practical, not ostentatious,
suits not as tight as those they had been wearing but still snug and revealing.
She could see two women, both tall and willowy. One, in the centre of the group,
was imperious with her head raised and mouth held tight, clearly the matriarch.
Regan bristled. On her right she could see another woman, slightly taller, with
two young children clasping her legs, she looked anxious and expectant.
Gathered loosely around the two were eleven men, all comically thin to Regan's
eyes, however they were nevertheless tall and imposing.