Shadow Seed 1: The Misbegotten (55 page)

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(Earth Summer – 2385)

Tiny Feet

Estefan’s face was grim as he saved what he’d written with a mental command and then waved the sim-screen away.  His Neuro-Nanoswarm scattered about his appointed quarters within the Null-ship. 
If I’d only known just how much pussy I’d have thrown in my face back then, maybe I’d had done things differently
, he considered seriously for a second before realizing he was full of shit.  There was no way he could’ve denied himself the women who’d come to his bed eager to please him in every way. 
Yeah, there’s no way…
  He glanced down at himself, knowing he couldn’t have refused.

He was wearing baggy synth-cotton trousers and a matching, dark blue tunic, complete with a drawstring at the chest.  It was swiftly becoming his favorite sort of clothing to wear when he wrote.  It was loose, didn’t bunch and let his skin breathe, which was something he required now.  His
density made him warm, in constant need of circulating air.

It had been seven Earth-days since they’d departed Luna Prime and less than half of one, since they’d entered what, the ships’ Nav-system told them, was the Jovian System proper.  The trip should’ve taken no more than three days, but traveling by Null-ship was always slower.  The onboard sensory arrays and early detection modules were programmed to avoid d
iscovery at all costs, so oftimes, their course was altered dramatically, in order to fulfill this directive.  Because of this, they still had a few more days to go before they reached their destination.  Traffic about Jupiter and its many, many moons was typically heavy, so the Null-ships’ route would undoubtedly prove random, if not tiresome, at best.

Most of the time, he’d spent writing here and there, in between times, he had to deal with various pressing issues in need of his attention.  Leading an organization as large as the Aegis Synod required his personal input every day, sometimes many times a day, there were spells when he could hardly rest or spend time with his wives.  This was proving true over the course of the past week.

His wives, as well as his cousin Jacob, and his brother and sister-in-law, had all boarded the Null-ship on Luna Prime.  The rest of the High Command had scattered across his vast empire after the Gathering ended, but Estefan had wanted a core group of them to remain with him.

Two earth-days from the Moon, this proved impossible when all communication with a Diatainium prospecting team deep in the outer reaches of the Solar System was lost.  It was the same one, Johan and Jolene had left behind when they’d answered Estefan’s call Earth-days before.  This was highly unusual, because they’d left behind cutting-edge equipment, many times more than they would ever need.  This included multiple redundancies in regards to communications as well as a full company of highly trained Aegis Marines.

Yet, less than a fortnight later, they’d lost contact with the entire mining colony.  Nothing had come out of the region for almost thirty hours before Estefan had been forced to send Jacob and an entire brigade of troops, their accompanying transports as well as a screening force of Agave Class Frigates and two Chaz Class Destroyers.  This was enough muscle to hold off a full-scale incursion from nearly any one of his enemies. 
And still…

Jacob had left the Null-ship via a stealth Sky-car, which wasn’t as good at masking as was Null-tech, but it was all they’d had aboard.  Later, he would rendezvous with the fleet of warships from Luna, and he and thousands Marines would make their way to the Belt in search of answers.

Estefan had been waiting five Earth-days for those answers.  They’d yet to come.  This was beginning to worry him.  Jacob should’ve been able to send word to him by now, and yet, he hadn’t.  Something was wrong.

A day and a half later, one of their many space-labs had sent an urgent communique directly to Johan and Jolene.  Within minutes, they were both before him, requesting he grant them permission to leave.  He had asked them repeatedly why the urgency, but neither of them would reply, saying it would be better if they confirmed the report first.  Estefan had almost become angry until Jolene had told him – vaguely – this particular group of scientists might’ve discovered something incredible.  She had said they’d stumbled upon what they thought might be new sort of particle-bean technology.  It was so new, and bizarre, with such far reaching benefits, it could prove more lucrative than Null-tech
, or so they said.  This was, after all, saying a lot and the Keeper’s interest was piqued.  Null-tech was clearly the commodity that kept them so far above their competition – in both wealth and technology.  If what his sister-in-law told him was even half-way true, it could be worth quadrillions of exchange credits.

He hadn’t bothered dickering around anymore and got them both aboard the fastest ship they had aboard the hulking Null-ship – an Aegis Corvette, a large Sky-car capable of reaching ninety-nine point
eight-six percent the speed of light.  They were gone within the hour and a quarter-way to their destination an hour after.  He hoped they could confirm the rumors.  It would be nice to hold the patent to yet another ground-breaking tech.  He would like that very much.

The rest of his days had been filed with the typical goings-on of running the Synod, interspersed with an occasional encounter with one or two of his wives.  One Earth-morning, it had been five and he’d been forced to endure a few hours of Medicinal-Cryosleep in order to recover from what those vigorous women had put him through.  Still though, the thought of being fucked senseless appealed to him.  It was their way of life and had been for centuries.  His wives demanded his attentions and he was more than willing to give it to them… over and over and over…  He smiled at the thought, and then frowned when he recalled a quick, sticky tryst with one of the engineers aboard the Null-ship.  She was a young thing, only forty-nine years old.  Not that she looked her age of course.  Even those who weren’t Old-Timer’s typically lived past one hundred and fifty nowadays, especially with all the improvements in diet, drugs and medicine.  No, Maggie – that was her name – appeared no more than twenty-five with the upturned breasts and shelf-like rear end to prove it.

He’d been walking down a side corridor through the engineering level, thinking about Ramona and the wonderful time they’d spent together the day before.  Like the novice he’d been back in 2018
, when his Mutations had first begun to manifest, he inadvertently began to think on her smell.  This had always proved his undoing and before he knew what was happening, Maggie was in his arms, kissing him ferociously.  Her body melded to his, her hips thrusting into him as if there was nothing more important than having him inside her body.  This act didn’t break any rules as far as his wives were concerned.  They had agreed long ago, since Estefan was an Arch-Andro, this was an aspect of their lives they couldn’t ignore or attempt to push to the side.  It was inevitable, given the right circumstances, women would willing fall into his bed.  That didn’t mean there weren’t protocols to follow though, precedence in matters of this nature had been written back in the twenty-first century.

It was Ramona who had felt the change in Estefan first and al
erted Flavia he was being accosted by a woman who hadn’t gone under “review”.  His one-time step-sister and cousin Katie had come at once, separating the two.  They had pulled Maggie aside, asking her if she wished to go under the review of the Synod – the first step down the path toward becoming a Consort of the Keeper.

She had gone wide-eyed with shock, uncertain of what had happened to her, fearing for her life.  Everyone knew crossing one of Estefan’s wives spelled death, especially the one called
, the Guardian.  She had reputedly killed nine Kormieran assassins once, by herself, without injury to her person.  One Kormieran alone should’ve been enough.  Nine, working in concert, could’ve slain any head-of-state, anywhere in the Solar System, on any day of the week, regardless of security.  The fact, Flavia alone had pursued them, had drawn them out and killed them all, had made her legend – a terrifying one at that.  One could even go so far as to say her defeat of the greatest assassins ever known was more frightening than Estefan’s revenge against those who had hired them in the first place.  Genocide was an easy thing in the face of a death no one saw coming…

So, Maggie had gazed at those around her, terrified, wanting nothing more than to be away from them.  She forget she had ever wanted the Keeper as bad as she had moments ago.  Estefan deliberately looked away, shutting himself off from his Mutation.  Her decision would have to be her own.  No one could coerce her into making a commitment as final as women and girls alike made when they chose to go under the review of the Synod.  Access to the Keeper’s bed promised long nights of pleasure, days bathed in wealth, but any offspring would belong to the Synod.  A consort could leave at any time, and would still be
cared for until death, but only she could leave.  Consorts had no parental rights over the children they might bear; only Estefan and his wives possessed them.  It was the price to pay for a life many couldn’t even imagine.

In the end, Maggie had refused and she had been abruptly confined to quarters for the duration of the trip.  Upon their return from Europa, she would be transferred to another quadrant of the vast empire ruled by the Keeper, never to see him again.  To seek him out a second time, after refusing to go under review, would mean death.  This, Estefan’s wives would enforce with ruthless efficiency.  He had seen it before.  None escaped them.

Other than those three incidents, nothing else had happened that was noteworthy.  He and Mena had met twice to discuss the synod’s finances, which were so far in the black he had stopped trying to figure out why their meetings had once been so important.

The only real tidbit of information he bothered to commit to memory was the selling of the last of the underworld businesses he still owned after all these years.  It had sentimental value, which was the only reason he had hung onto it as long as he had, but it was a dinosaur, more work than profit.  Thus, he had told Mena a few earth-months prior to sell it to a friend for next to nothing.  It was to be a gift more than anything else.  He didn’t care to profit from the first false front he and his family had organized.  It had been during the times of the persecutions, financed from the fruits of their very first major theft. 
Diatainium and Muslims
, he thought harkening back to his first multi-billion dollar transaction (when American dollars made been the currency of choice).  It had put them on the map. 
Who would’ve ever made that connection! 
It had
made
them amongst the Mutos – good and bad alike.  It had been the beginning of the Aegis Synod, before that title had been invented. 
I will miss Marque & Associates
…
but, I have no more use for the illegal drug trade.
  The pharmaceutical company he owned now, Med-Core, made more money for him than cocaine, meth, ecstasy and heroine had made for him combined.  Besides, all of the effects of those crude hallucinogens could be readily reproduced now.  Minus all of the addictive side-effects and the horrible corruption they inflicted upon the human form.

Marque & Associates, named after my Uncles and the rest of us kids.  Back when we ran at the sound of a pin drop.  Back when we didn’t get to eat dinner every night or breakfast with the coming of the dawn.  So, long ago, are they even my memories?  Or do they belong to someone else…?

An irritating buzz sounded throughout his quarters, which was really nothing more than a moderately-sized, rectangle of a room, abutting against one of the inner hulls of the Null-ship.  He was billeted a short distance from the bridge down the hall.  It was sparsely outfitted with a built-in table and bench unit, a double-sized bed, a desk and a chair, and small seating area he could use to take a meeting.  There was an in-wall armoire and a small washing compartment.  The Aegis’ stewards had provided a rich set of matching rugs upon which he could walk barefoot and not freeze off his lower extremities upon the icy cold of the metal flooring.  Other than that, there was little else, but this didn’t bother him.  This was a trip born out of necessity and not a vacation.  He could do without a few accruements for a change, if it meant a greater possibility of success.  Obtaining the Shadow Spark and hiding it was all he cared about for the moment.  The sooner he got rid of the damned thing, the better.

“Come,” he called from the desk he’d writing at minutes before.

The door to his personal chamber slide into the wall without sound, Null-ships were constructed in achieve complete silence, only the people on board made noise.

He couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Leda in the elongated hexagonal doorframe.  She looked resplendent in one piece, jumpsuit with heeled boots attached to the garment itself.  They were black and shone like obsidian in the artificial light provided by the ship.  The rest of her clothing was white with varying strips of black, marking
pockets with powered-zippers and what appeared to be sheaths for a number of different size blades, though none of them seemed to be occupied at the time.  The suit looked like it was made of leather, but it had a metallic quality about it belying another sort of material altogether.  Women’s fashion was so varied and diverse now, Estefan could scarcely keep up.  So, as he sat there and gazed upon his wife, he couldn’t tell what it was she had encased her body.  To him, it fit her like a glove, showing off every exquisite detail of her petite figure, and that’s all that mattered to him.