Ambasadora (Book 1 of Ambasadora) (9 page)

So far it hadn’t, and Sean didn’t
anticipate it stirring any time soon.

The heavy, black pendant seemed
large for Giselle’s delicate frame. It smacked roughly between her small
breasts as she moved up and down on the male under her.

“That’s Mikail,” Kenon
said. “The amour she took after me.”

Sean probably met the auburn-headed
man at Hailey’s naming ceremony, and then again when Soli had talked Sean into
attending Hailey’s induction into the Tampian nursery a few years back. The
induction was Sean’s last formal function. He even adopted a scruffy appearance
to detract anyone from inviting him anywhere again.

Giselle and Mikail were so
involved with their coupling that Kenon and Sean went unnoticed. Sean said he’d
wait in the other room, but Kenon placed delicate fingers on his forearm.

He mouthed, “He has bad
form. Schooled in Witho.”

The schools from Mikail’s home
territory on Tampa Deux were known more for their attention to the Media than
their attention to sex education. Mikail wasn’t helping their cause. His rhythm
was already slowing just as Giselle picked up her pace. Sean had his doubts
Mikail would be able to match her as she moved faster and pushed down harder.
It wouldn’t be long now, judging by Giselle’s heavy breathing.

Kenon smiled and elbowed Sean
when Mikail finally lost the rhythm completely, then let his hips rest and
waited for Giselle to finish them both.

“At least she got something
out of it,” Kenon whispered, then loudly, “Hello, Giselle.
Mikail.”

Giselle’s big, grey eyes looked
up at them from under mussy locks of blonde hair. She flashed a sly smile to
say she knew they were there all along.

Mikail obviously did not, as his
annoyed tone implied. “Do you mind, Kenon? We’re in the middle of
something.”

“It would seem you’re at the
end of something, Mikail.”

Sean coughed to cover a laugh.
Posturing among Socialites always amused him.

They all knew Kenon had privilege
as Giselle’s prime. Mikail would have to defer if asked.

“We’ll come by later,
Giselle,” Kenon said.

Tricky bastard. Kenon knew they’d
find Giselle and Mikail here alone. That’s why he suddenly needed Sean to
reprogram his wrist reporter for access to the systems in Giselle’s manor.

“Wait, Kenon. He was just
leaving.”

Ouch. A dismissal. Not Mikail’s
day.

Sean half-expected a fight to
ensue. Domestic incidents between competing amours were few, or at least few
were reported. Kenon probably respected Giselle too much to push the issue, and
more importantly was fearful of bodily injury from the larger Mikail. Another
reason Kenon had brought Sean along.

“Fine. We’ll be in the
viewing room. Sean needs to make some adjustments to my reporter anyway. Nice
to see you again, Mikail,” he said over his shoulder.

No response issued forth.

“He’s always hated me.”
Kenon led Sean through a back hallway to the more comfortable viewing room with
its casual furnishings and fully stocked bar.

“Imagine that. Jealousy
among amours.”

“Jealousy?”
Kenon said the word as though it were the most ridiculous he’d ever heard.
“Giselle is just one of three. I enjoy them all the same. And they enjoy
each of their other amours in turn. Just one perk of a large family circle. You
should try it.”

“Keep telling yourself
that.” Sean decided long ago that many Lowers had the right idea—one
partner, less headaches. Of course, the Embassy restricted their marriage
rights, so they didn’t really have a choice, but few complained of a monogamous
life.

Kenon switched on the Media with
his
faulty
reporter. A large viewscreen materialized in the air opposite
the bar and dominated the room. Two round sienna faces with short platinum hair
flashed to life in mid-commentary.

“…Socialite Mariam
Datwal chose the Passing Ritual this morning after a medical exam concluded her
ova were not viable. Her lineage remains intact due to her sacrifice. She died
honorably and comfortably after requesting her doctor to administer….”

Kenon muted the sound.

“Thought your reporter was
non-responsive to these systems,” Sean said.

“Hmmm? Oh, it seems to be
working fine right now. Yurian scotch?” He held up a blue tumbler.

“Fuck you, Kenon. What a
waste of my time. Just an excuse to spy on Giselle.”

“I think she’s planning to
take a third amour.” Kenon became serious and downed his glass.

“Thought you wanted to
expand your circle.”

Kenon’s voice remained pleasant.
“Of course. I figured she would want another child soon. She and Mikail
had Sasha three years ago. Hailey is now six. I just thought we’d be planning
for another of our own by now.”

Sean almost felt sorry for Kenon.
Trapped in the tenets of a society and trying to make the best of it because it
was
the right thing to do
. He couldn’t blame him for that. Misery was
always the side-effect of any ideology. Sean sniffed at the scotch and gave it
a swirl.

On the screen, the image of
gossip-mongering hosts gave way to the sharp features and pale skin of the most
recognizable man in the system, Sovereign Simon Prollixer.

Sean’s mood darkened further. He
put the glass to his lips, but thought better of it. Mixing alcohol with double
dosers could produce debilitating side effects. Too bad he’d taken that last
batch of stims before they left.

Bubbles with video clips from the
day’s headliners bounced along the screen’s edge, expanding and contracting. A
clip of a particularly beautiful, redheaded woman bounced by, the word
AMBASADORAS
rotating within it. Sean used his implanted reporter to expand the window. It
manipulated all of the systems in Giselle’s residence just like Kenon’s did,
though the couple didn’t know this.

When the redhead began to speak,
Sean turned up the volume. She proved more interesting than Mikail’s whining
from the other room.

“…can’t tell you what an
honor it is to be a Face of the Embassy. I’m sure you’ll be hearing good things
about the ambasadoras. The Sovereign was wonderful to give us this opportunity.
I think all the women will agree he has been like a father to us. He is a very
generous man with a wonderful heart.”

Sean wanted to hurl his untouched
drink through the screen. Naïve bitch. All the ambasadoras were being used to
redirect attention away from the true intentions of the Embassy.

The woman’s light green eyes were
almost as shiny as her glossed lips. She played up to her audience by angling
her head and smiling, techniques that wooed only the weakest of men.

“Isn’t she incredible?”
Kenon stared transfixed at the screen as the ambasadora sang another round of
praises for the Sovereign. “So much beauty, so much poise.”

The camera pulled back to a
half-body shot to show a glimpse of violet lights pulsing up one of her shapely
biceps, then the angle returned to her laughing face.

“This whole ambasadora
business is nothing more than a publicity stunt by the Embassy,” Giselle
said from behind them. She slid past Sean in an orchid-colored silk robe.
“I don’t know how the Sovereign found sixty Socialite women willing to
demean themselves that way.”

Giselle attempted to hide the
jealousy in her voice with a nonchalant posture. Sean knew better. Anything
that placed one Upper above another in societal standing was always a cause for
envy.

“I agree,” Sean said
under his breath, but Giselle had picked up on it.

“Hello, Scientist
Cryer.” Giselle winked.

Kenon pretended not to notice her
flirting and poured another scotch.

“You can skip the title. It
means nothing.” Sean finally swallowed the smooth liquid, no longer caring
about the consequences.

“Then how about mech tech?
Isn’t that what you all call him aboard ship, Kenon?” The term was meant
as an insult, but Sean had found many more mech techs he liked than Socialites.

“Just Sean. If you have to
talk to me at all.”

She had already lost interest in
him anyway, nuzzling up to Kenon and telling him she had something to discuss.

Sean made to leave, but Sovereign
Prollixer’s reappearance on the Media pulled his attention back.

“The ambasadoras will
fill the roles of our once cherished archivists, sharing information about our
projects and bringing back wonderful news of success within the system.”

All of which could be
accomplished faster and with less expense via the Media or virtually. That
tingling feeling inside Sean that said he was right made him angry because the
situation was actually worse than he thought. Rather than acting as passive
distractions, the ambasadoras would be actively spying for the Sovereign and
few would question it in order to be a part of the fanfare. Now one of those
women would be living with him on the
Bard
, watching him, maybe
reporting on his activities.

“I’m heading back, Kenon.
Have fun.”

Sean needed to make another stop
in the V-side to find out more about Ambasadora Sara Mendoza’s history before
she insinuated herself into his life. What he found out just might determine
the length of hers.

Shots ricocheted off metal. A
huge hand grabbed the top of Zak’s armor, pulling him to the floor. Three
projectile rounds sparked in the darkness against a metal railing just centimeters
from where he had stood. The soft echoing of the shots told him he was inside a
cavernous room. The swaying floor and the aerated metal slicing into his cheek
where he fell hinted at a catwalk of some sort.

“Haven’t seen you around in
a while,” Topper said, the scarred face of his human av scarier than his
normal reptilian form.

“I’ve been keeping a low
profile, but thanks for the welcome back.” He wiped the blood on the back
of his hand. No healing programs in a true combat world.

It had been almost three weeks
since his last session—when he had pulled Bullseye’s plug.

“I think he’s got a new
woman.” Cuzco chuckled from somewhere behind them. Zak’s sight adjusted to
see the big man crouched at the end of the catwalk taking aim at a rival
contingency among the industrial machinery down below. Cuzco had been away on
some special op for months. He had even missed Bullseye’s elimination.

“Been finding better ways to
work out, haven’t you?” Cuzco asked.

“Hmmm. I always thought Zak
was
a woman.” Ariel opened up on an enemy trying to sneak up a nearby ladder.
Her crafters weren’t as powerful as the rocket launcher she used on the
dragons, but in this training scenario rockets weren’t allowed.

Ariel probably wasn’t joking
about him being female. It was common for fraggers and gamers to switch genders
in a virtual world. Sometimes it was an extra concealment technique. Sometimes
it was just for the arousal. Considering Zak had always shrugged off Ariel’s
invitations for v-sex, she must have figured he was either into same gender or
a woman.

But, Sean had never had v-sex
with anyone. It creeped him out to think who might be on the other end of all
that stimulation.

“Who’s down below?” Zak
asked.

“Eclipse’s contingency.
She’s been waiting for you to show. Wanted to convey her condolences about
Bullseye.” Cuzco handed off a new clip to Vishneu as he belly-crawled past
the smaller man.

“It took everyone by
surprise, I’m sure. Bullseye had a lot of friends in the organization.”
Zak half-stood to let Vishneu squirm by and almost took a round to the head.

“Yeah, the whole incident
caused quite an uproar. At least thirty fraggers have come forward with
overthrow strategies,” Cuzco said.

“Overthrow strategies?”

“This is the third case of
faulty intel resulting in wrongful elimination. Next time it could be one of
us.” The coldness in Ariel’s voice didn’t match the chill running down
Zak’s spine.

Faulty intel. Wrongful
elimination.

“What are you talking
about?” Zak grabbed Ariel’s bare arm and yanked her down beside of him.

“Easy, Zak, if you want a
little, all you have to do is ask. I’m always willing.” She grabbed his
crotch.

He knocked her hand away.
“No, I mean it, what’s this about faulty intel?” Why hadn’t the
bosses contacted him? Hearing it from his whole contingency after the fact made
him look like a fool. But maybe that was the point someone higher up was trying
to make.

“You have been out of the
loop, haven’t you? Bullseye had nothing to do with the data dump. It came from
an orbital source.” Ariel shrugged. “Sorry. I thought you knew.”

Zak slumped against the
perforated railing.

“The head idiots had us take
out one of our own guys based on bad info,” Vishneu said beside him. He stood
up and screamed, unleashing a torrent of strafing fire upon the contingency on
the floor. His upper body jerked as he took several rounds in the chest. He
fell against the handrail. The entire catwalk shook violently and threw Ariel
backward over the railing. Zak stood up to grab her arm. An explosive round
impacted on his back before he could catch her. He steadied himself against the
handrail only to take another hit to his shoulder. It was enough to throw him
off balance and pitch him forward, over the railing.

Sean’s heart thudded and his
stomach tightened as Zak’s body went into free-fall. There were no healing
programs to bring him back; those were the rules of training engagement.
Adrenaline pumped through his veins as he heard the crunch of Ariel’s body hit
the concrete. Zak’s body hit seconds later.

Sean’s connection was automatically
severed with Zak’s demise, but his physical body back on the
Bard
responded to the impact. He fought to catch his breath as he frantically pulled
the lenses from his eyes.