Shadow Seed 1: The Misbegotten (33 page)

Now, as a new day dawned on Earth, the only members of the High Command they were awaiting were Johan, their Director of Research and Exploration, and Jolene, their Chief Scientist.  Though they had one of the fastest frigates in their mighty fleet, they had the longest journey of all.  They were coming from a deep space exploratory mission within the Kuiper Belt.  This was the vast uncharted region of comets, proto-planets, dwarf-planets and asteroids between the orbits of Neptune and outermost elliptic of Pluto.

As far as he knew, they were set to arrive overnight, but hadn’t for some reason, so, in order to quell some of the nervous energy surging within him, he had decided to write in his journal.  But, after he’d finished delving through his memory of his first sexual encounter with Katie Lorraine Chaz, the fourth oldest child of his mother’s sister, he had found he couldn’t continue.  He had to stop, take a breather, because thoughts of that night never left him relaxed.  Being with her had been life-altering, seventeen years of pent up desire and longing released, compressed, into one sweet hour of sweat and exhilaration.  He couldn’t sit still with thoughts of him using his cousin’s pliant body as he wished.  He had to do something.  He couldn’t sit still any longer.

Ah Katie, you were magical that night…

Something caught his eye and he turned to stare at it more directly.  He craned his head to see around a Diatainium-coated X-beam, his eyes focusing on an object descending at speed from orbit.  Lacking Earth’s atmosphere, the Moon offered very little resistance as the craft drew nearer.  There were no plasma trails or buffeting flames.  The spacecraft came in swiftly, then began a series of reverse-thrusting, vectoring toward a large landing pad.  As it came closer, he could make out the stylized “A.S.” stenciled in the intersection of a “resting” numeral eight.  Many thought it stood for the age-old symbol meaning infinity.  The description fit, considering they were all Old-Timer’s and would most likely live forever, barring some bizarre accident.  But, when applied to the Synod itself, it stood for something completely unrelated.  It really was an “8” and it stood for the number of women in the Aegis Synod itself, the number of women married to Estefan.

He felt his mood lighten at the sight of his brother’s private frigate as it’s’ pilot deftly maneuvered the cylindrical ship into a holding position directly above the landing zone.  It was small for a frigate, but it was a fast model, faster than all the others owned by the Synod, though it still bristled with armaments much like it larger cousins.  It looked like a bird-of-prey, frozen in mid-dive, bulbous at the front, followed by an elongated neck, flowing into a broad, swept rear.  Immense Grav-accelerators were attached to thick bracketing arms at either side, giving it a low profile, despite its considerable width at its end.  He had long admired the Peregrine.  It was dangerous looking and beautiful at the same time.  It was aptly named.

Though it was scores of kilometers away, he watched as its’ three landing feet extended from the bottom of the fuselage, their flat bottoms pointed downward as if to test the firmness of the ground before committing to settle upon the pad.  At his waist, he brought his hand together, touching a knuckle, activating his ’Swarm.  A miniature version of his sim-screen appeared off to his left.

“Open the common band, Reyna, and let the others know my brother and his wife have finally arrived from the Belt,” he spoke quietly to the air.

A seductive version of a long lost girlfriends’ voice replied, “As you command, my love.”

He felt himself smile, uncaring of what Flavia had said about him naming - and characterizing - his ‘Swarm after a girl who had slighted him centuries ago.  He liked the idea of hearing her voice, her inflection, completely subservient. 
The bitch deserves it
, he mused, wondering, in an off-hand sort of manner, what had become of her.  He hadn’t seen her in months prior to
that
night, and he hadn’t seen her since.  She had only lived a few blocks from his parents’ house… just down the hill… 
I have always contemplated whether or not you turned Muto like the rest of us, Reyna.  It seems totally plausible that you did.  Most of the old neighborhood had become infected with the Shadow Seed.  If you hadn’t though…, you’ve been dead for a long, long time.

No more teasing cock for you, little girl.

“My love, the Aegis Synod will meet in the Sacristy in exactly two hours,” announced his ‘Swarm with Reyna’s delicious tones.

“Thank you, Reyna.  Sentry Mode, please,” was his reply.

“Yes, my love.”  She and the sim-screen dissolved into nothing.

He spun away from the observation portal, making his way to the Dermal-Cleanser, shedding his clothing as he stepped across the tiled floor.  There was no sense going to a full Gathering, if he smelled like dirty socks.  He had a reputation to uphold – the Keeper must look immaculate.

He was halfway there when a series of pleasant chimes sounded throughout the chamber.  It was Ramona’s inquiry, a sound specific to her, applying for entry into his private domain.

“Come,” he spoke to the room, looking toward the
sliding, mahogany-covered doors leading out to the foyer and the Aegis Marines guarding him.

He counted to three and one of them initiated the door, his head peeking within.  “Synoddess Cervantes, Enlightened One,” he announced, entirely nonplussed by Estefan’s lack of clothing.

She came around him before Estefan could answer, looking as dazzling as usual, then stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of his nudity.  “Leave us, Marine,” she commanded.

He disappeared behind the air-tight hissing of the door.

She was dressed in a fitted sweater (Black) with a deep V-neck and a white cotton button-up underneath.  She had unbuttoned it as far down as the neck of the sweater, showing the tops and sides of her ample bosoms.  She had on a pin-striped mini-skirt, hemmed mid-thigh, with sheer over-the-knee, nylon socks and a pair of platform, five-inch heels, making her nearly as tall as him.  She had her hair up, showing off her neck and exquisitely squarish chin.  Her blue-grey eyes were searching his body over a pair of thick rimmed glasses, which she tended to wear, but not really need, when she was working.  No one needed prescription glasses nowadays.  It was just a residual sign she was an Old-Timer.  She remembered things others couldn’t.

As usual, her make-up was programmed with more lines of code than was necessary, but she had always been fastidious in that fashion.  As long as he had known her, her face had looked as if sculpted by Leonardo De Vinci himself.

He stared at her strong thighs, wanting to see what she had on under her skirt, which was more like a belt.  It covered about the same amount of flesh.  He didn’t care though.  He had never been one to tell a woman how to dress.  As long as she was going home with him, he could care less what she wore.  Whatever outfit she had on, he was going to be the one to take it off.

“I can see you miss me as much as I miss you,” she said
, over a stifled giggle.

He glanced down at his thickening manhood.  “I was just gonna clean up in the Dermal
’, care to join me.”

Her eyes twinkled and the smile he had come to cherish lit up her entire face.  “I sure would.”  She passing a finger over an unseen sensor on the hem of her skirt and the straps of her heels came off.  She kicked them away, walking toward him on the balls of her feet.  “I really did miss you,” she breathed as they came together, her hand caressing what was growing between them, kissing him chastely upon the lips.  She tilted her head up to look in his eyes.

He kissed her chin, and then walked her toward the ‘Cleanser, peeling off her clothes as they went.

They would be getting clean for a long time…

~~~~~~~~~~~~♦~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Earth Summer – 2385)

The Sacristy

He stood at the far end of the egg-shaped chamber, looking out over the heads of the High Command from his raised position atop the platform reserved only for him.  Although today, he wasn’t alone as protocol would have it.  Flavia stood beside him, at the transparent Diatainium shield protecting him from the stomach down.  It wasn’t a shield really.  It was more like a railing masquerading as a barrier.  It stretched along the entire length of the platform, to either
side of him, from bottom stair to bottom stair.  There was still no denying it would protect him from anything as benign as a bullet to as lethal as a nuke-charged Laze.  It merely didn’t appear that it could.  Someone as old as Estefan could have mistook it for plexi-glass or dual-sided laminated glass, but it was neither.  It was Diatainium and absolutely nothing could penetrate it.

The ceiling of the chamber was transparent as well, vaulted, a continuance of the curvature of a lengthwise slice of half an egg.  Far across from Estefan
, stood the magnificent entrance, a pair of tall, sliding doors leading out to the foyer and the portal to the lift beyond.  To either side of these huge, four-foot thick, twenty-five-foot high, doors was a mezzanine, running a third of the way down either wall.  From each of these raised areas, one could access even longer observation platforms, where the whole of Luna Prime could be seen – all sixty-seven square kilometers of it.  At the end of each side of the mezzanine and, also, directly at its’ center were small staircases leading down into the heart of the gigantic room.  This was an area filled with many tables and chairs, all of them facing the High Seat of the Keeper, upon which Estefan and Flavia stood.

He was wearing a double-breasted, three-piece suit – black with tiny silver darts running vertically through the material.  To one as old as Estefan, it easily could’ve been mistaken for a silken Oscar De La Renta.  The cut and tailoring was a near perfect match, even the stitching was identical.  The fact the suit itself was formed from Genius-level silk complete with defensive and offensive countermeasures, didn’t take away from the illusion that one of the great designers of Estefan’s youth could’ve made his suit.  His shirt was white and single-stitched, authentic cotton -
exquisite, pristine.  His tie was simple black, narrow, also made of silk.  It was an outfit worth more than a million exchange units, since silk, in the twenty-fourth century, sold for more than 375K per yard.

This wasn’t accounting for his shoes, which were
authentic Berluti Rapiécés Reprisés dating back to the first quarter of the twenty-first century.  They were works of art – black, supple leather, fitting the natural footline and felt more like socks than shoes.  Back when he had been a child, Berluti footwear would’ve set him back almost two thousand U.S. dollars.  Now… well now, they were priceless.

“Looks like everyone is here,” commented Flavia at his side.  She wore her long, auburn hair pulled back with an auto-cinching elastic band, a hairstyle she typically wore when she was on high alert, though Estefan felt her concern
was without merit for the Gathering.  The Sacristy was the innermost sanctum of the Aegis Synod.  It was guarded ferociously by the Keeper’s many loyal Marines, not even an all-out strike from space could touch him here.

Flavia wasn’t worried about attack from above, as she had pointed out to him earlier.  Anyone of the members of the High Command could’ve been coerced or drugged or entirely Doop’ed in order to get at Estefan.  It was always First Greetings that worried her the most.

She moved forward, her tall form coming to lean against the transparent barrier between them and the others below.  Once more, she was clad in her black, bio-spandex uniform, which allowed unlimited freedom of movement should she have to move quickly.  Unlike days prior, she had opted against wearing heels this day.  Instead, she ensconced her feet in lightweight boots, made of thick nylon and came over her calves with a series of buckles and straps.  Estefan knew she had a myriad of weapons secreted away within the hidden folds and seams of those boots, even if she was a walking weapon onto herself.  Flavia was never truly unarmed.

Estefan came up beside her.  “See anything out of the ordinary?” he asked with just a touch of sarcasm in his voice.

She turned to look at him, her lips pursed, her eyes narrow.  “One of these days when you’re not taking me seriously, Estefan, when I really need you to pay attention, you’re going to get hurt.  In that moment of hesitation, you will tip the balance between me saving your sweet, little ass and getting yourself killed by some unforgiving assassin.  Then, you’re going to regret all of my vigilance, all of the work I put into keeping you safe.  You are the biggest target in the Sixteen Worlds, my love.  Stop being so haughty, ok?”

He huffed through his nose, but leaned forward to plant a quick kiss on her forehead, his wordless method of letting her know he understood.

From below, the hallow resonance of a gavel hitting a block.  Both of them turned to follow the sound.

Estefan’s face went to stone when he realized everyone else was now staring up at him and Flavia despite the racket Ramona had risen with the wooden, hammer-shaped instrument in her hand.  Some had actually swiveled in their chairs to get a better look at the intimacy they had displayed a few second earlier. 
There’s nothing like having a nosy family
, he thought remorsefully.

They were positioned about the Sacristy in according to rank and import to the Synod itself, split between two tables, shaped vastly different from one another.  The Aegis
Synod itself, minus Flavia, sat about a boomerang-shaped surface, facing into the chamber beyond, like him and his one-time step-sister.  The High Command itself was seated about a much larger, arrow-shaped table further into the Sacristy, the leading edge of the “arrow” following the curve of the Synod’s “boomerang” perfectly.  The two other, outer tables were vacant, but that was to be expected.  They were reserved for attachés and assistants who, for a meeting such as this, had been banned from attending.  This council was for the highest echelons only.

He let his gaze wonder down to Ramona, who stood toward the middle of the Synod’s table, gavel in hand, her lips curled at one side. 
It was a good time in the Dermal-Cleanser
, he thought, giving her a faint nod of his head.  She nodded back and put the gavel down upon its block.

Fanning out from Ramona’s left, closest to furthest sat Katie, Mena and Tirza, while on her right, sat Leda, Sandy
and Ruby.  The seat Flavia should’ve occupied stood vacant at the far right.  All of them, like his one-time step-sister, wore black, bio-spandex leotards and nothing else, only lightweight, comfortable shoes upon their feet.  They
all
wore their hair pulled back, their fingers practically bristling with adornments, their belts heavy with light, but lethal weaponry – every sort one could imagine.

At the larger, arrow-shaped surface sat fourteen others - seven to a side.  Each of them wearing ceremonial robes of crimson and leather sandals as was the customary attire worn by the High Command when in the presence of the Aegis Synod within the Sacristy.

On the right, and, therefore, closest to Estefan’s position upon the raised Seat of the Keeper, sat Johan Marquez, his Director of Research and Exploration.  He was the
only
full-blooded relative he had left alive.  He was his brother.  Next to him sat his wife, Jolene Marquez, who served the Synod as their Chief Scientist.  On the other side of her sat Jacob Rodriguez, his first cousin and Chief of Security.  Beyond was Vincent Cervantes, the Admiral of the Aegis Fleet and his oldest son begat from Ramona and him.  Next to him sat Susanna Aragon, The Astral-General of the Aegis Marines, who was his firstborn from his wife Mena.  She had inherited some of her mothers’ propriety when in public, so she didn’t smile broadly like the others when his gaze found her.  Rather, she inclined her head and kept his stare.  She was a formidable woman, though she wasn’t a fraction of an inch taller than her mothers’ five foot frame.

On Susanna’s far side sat Collin Edwards, who was Jacob’s long-time friend and represented the Synod as a High Council Delegate to the Combined Corporate Council of the Sixteen Worlds of Sol.  He was the CEO of Senergy Bio-Tech, a mid-level conglomerate o
wned by Estefan and his wives.

Ashley Aragon was sitting beyond Collin, the youngest of the group,
at a mere fifty-eight.  She was Susanna’s daughter, making her Estefan’s granddaughter through Mena.  She was a vibrant, upbeat woman who was the guiding force behind Med-Core Pharmaceuticals – also majority owned by the Synod.

On the other side of the table sat the Board Members of the Combined Corporate Council of the Sixteen Worlds themselves.  Sitting closest to him, from that side, was Estefan’s oldest surviving child – Anthony Cardenas, who was now an incredible two hundred forty-two years old.  He was the Chairman of the Board of the Combined Corporate Council of the Sixteen Worlds himself and CEO of Draxis Corporation.  This was the
only
business entity capable of producing Null-Tech and was, therefore, the richest company to have
ever
existed within the various marketplaces of humankind.  It would’ve made the biggest and richest companies of Estefan’s youth like Wal-Mart or Apple look like simple corner stores in some obscure village at the verge of butt-hump Egypt.  Simply put, Draxis Corp was a monster, employing more than a billion workers in a single, completely self-sufficient plant in orbit on the dark-side of the moon.

Beyond Anthony were the remaining Board Members of the Combined Corporate Council representative of the Aegis Synod.  Ellen Fernandez was next closest to the Keeper’s Seat.  She was the CEO of DeepCore Mining, which specialized in Diatainium extraction and was based out of Tenoti-City, formally known as Mexico City.  She was the second child of Estefan and Sandy
, and had just celebrated her one hundred and fifty-eighth birthday a few months back.

The tall and refined Jacqueline Marquez sat beyond Ellen.  She was Johan and Jolene’s youngest daughter, the last they would ever have after her complicated birth had left Estefan’s sister-in-law barren.  She was three years passed a century and has already risen quickly through the ranks.  She was the CEO of ExTech, the Synod’s primary Neuro-Nanoswarm manufacturer headquartered in Genevatown, the megalopolis that now covered all of what had once been known as Switzerland.

Jacob Rodriguez II followed, the Executive In-charge of JacCo Metals, the mining company part-owned by the Synod, but who’s principal owner was Estefan’s cousin Jacob I.  He was the last of Jacob’s children with his wife Melissa, who had died years in the past.  Jacob II had proved to be an able manager of his father’s chief assets within the company.

The CEO of the Aegis International Group, Kenneth Fernandez, Estefan and Sandy’s grandson, and defacto
second youngest of the group, sat next to Jacob II.  He was the head of the Aegis Synod’s massive efforts in all fields of construction with jobsites on nearly seven hundred celestial bodies throughout the Solar System.  Despite his age, a mere ninety-seven, he was one of the busiest individuals of the group.  He made his office and home aboard one of the few Space Frigates owned by his organization.  He needed it, in order to keep atop the incessant demand of his presence, typically pulling him in five or six different directions at once.

The Managing Partner of Chaz Motors was on the other side of Kenneth, the vehicular branch of the Aegis Synod, named after Katie’s long-dead namesake, but was wholly owned by the Keeper himself.  Michael Aragon was a small man, a masculine version of his mother Mena.  He was the second oldest offspring between her and Estefan only nine years younger than his sister Susanna, who was two hundred and twelve.

The final Board Member and placed furthest away on this side of the giant conference table was Jill Carnejos.  She was only one of the group not related by blood or marriage.  Though she was not a member of the Synod itself, her loyalty and unerring support of the group had earned her unprecedented access to this august Gathering.  She was known as the First Concubine, the first to have accepted the terms of the Synod for a chance to lay with Estefan, an opportunity she hadn’t squandered.  She was also the Chief Executive Officer of Ernando, the colossal, meta-planetary corporation that manufactured armaments and weapons.  They designed, and sold, the latest in technology and firepower to all who could afford to buy it.  Jill was the only one among them with naturally red hair.  She wore it to her shoulders, though it would’ve stretched to the middle of her back if it hadn’t been so curly.  To the Keeper, though, it wasn’t the most endearing quality about her, and many in this room would agree.  It was her freckles.  She bore thousands of them, all over her body, from the tops of her toes to her scalp, even in the folds of her womanhood.  She was Estefan’s painted beauty.

“We call this meeting to order,” announced Ramona Loudly.  “If you all will prepare yourselves for the administration of your oaths, we shall begin.”

As one, everyone seated about the arrow-shaped table stood, stepped clear of their chairs, coming to stand a few feet behind them.  They removed their sandals and each waved their palms over a small clasp at their necks.  A sensor unhinged the mechanism and their garments fell free.  Before Estefan and his eight wives, stood fourteen naked Celestes, some of them among the most powerful individuals in the Sixteen Worlds, but, to a one, would present themselves to the Keeper as they came from the birth canals of their mothers.