There was a visceral satisfaction in buckling and locking the mask onto Gio, whether she wanted this or not, and in spite of her whimpers. It was as if he was containing the mystery of her, controlling her. Caging her to the utmost.
He had her slide into the cage and locked it too then returned to his seat.
Watching her curl up on the towels...draw up her knees, those dainty toes and feet, with her slit showing because he had her naked, this was precisely how it should be.
His life had been exactly how he wanted it for a long time. He worked for the king. He did what he was told to do. Did his duty because it benefited his people. Now? He shook his head. He’d been here little more than hours and had six different things running around in his head, sabotaging him. It was her, something was wrong and it was somehow connected to her.
The king’s word was suspect because Gyle was suspect. The portal thing he chased seemed more a matter for politics than anything good. The ship faltered, slowed. His brother seemed besotted with her. And what she saw and predicted...the explosion. He shifted forward. He didn’t even know why he’d made an agreement with her since all he’d wanted was to fuck her and yet he didn’t do that because he might lie, but first he needed to understand why he wanted Gio.
This was obsession. He didn’t do obsession, unless it was for his Mekkers or his king.
Talking to Gyle would be the next best step. He needed clarification.
The screen in one of the recreational areas would do. He found it, flicked it on and it started up without fuss. The tech in here was better than most he’d seen above. Which didn’t reflect well on anything. It reinforced the notion that they were decaying slowly, rotting from the inside.
He’d never thought this, like this, before. She’d contaminated him, that female...the one he had naked in a cage. His cock pushed against his pants, reminding him of her uses. He could just take her, now.
Except, no. He didn’t succumb to the lure of sex unless he decided it was the right time. Now, was not.
Redirecting the message, fuzzing the signal so the origin was impossible to locate, this was a simple thing. Play time, really.
Gyle arrived onscreen, seated in the bare room Ryke had often noticed before. Pieces of his image shifted and jumped, but that was the problem with diverting the signal.
“I need to see you, to talk.”
“You do?” Gyle looked down for a moment. “Where is she? Somewhere safe?”
“Yes. No progress as yet but I want a face-to-face talk. At my rooms.”
“I can be there soon. I’ll wait if you’re late, but not forever.”
The screen cut out, darkening.
Simple. Maybe too simple. Gyle was normally busy and arranging an appointment this quickly was unusual. It might be that this matter was too important for him to delay. Or it might be something else.
He’d go armed anyway...and reconnoiter in ways Gyle knew nothing of.
Finding the mechling called Aunt Mary was going to be difficult.
Except that it waited in the room with the pond window. Its new appearance threw him for a few seconds, until he saw the wig placed on its new head.
His boots crushed debris underfoot as he walked down the aisle to where it sat on the bench. Though smaller than Gio by a head, this Aunt Mary had become a humanoid mechling. None of those mechling bodies were available still, that he knew of. These forms were considered too large and too scary for most Mekkers to want them scurrying about. The bigger they were, the more powerful also. Mechlings wouldn’t hurt a man or woman, unless they were sun-mad, but precautions had been taken. These had been banned long ago.
Two arms, two legs, a shiny, flattish, round head with black eyestalks popping out between the fronds of black hair. Hmmm?
The king had ignored the ban, obviously. He slowed as he neared it.
“Welcome back, sir.”
Considering he’d also allowed speech in this mechling, this was not that surprising.
“Aunt Mary? Where did you get the new body?”
“In stores, sir. I thought perhaps it would alarm your female less? She did not seem to like the one with numerous legs.”
“Maybe. I have a job for you.”
“Good! I feel much better when I have aims.”
Feel? Again that was an odd choice. Semantics, he guessed.
“Come. I will explain as we return to where I have left my...female. I want you to watch her while I’m gone.”
“Of course, sir.”
He armed himself with every weapon he’d brought with him then shrugged on a coat with a hood. A well-made garment – it was jet black and purer of color than anything he’d worn before. Even when it was on a hanger, the eye slid off when you looked closely at the garment. The lining was also black but bore a subtle dark-gray emblem of a predator snarling, showing many teeth.
There were several ways to get up top. In addition to the old hatches, there were the cargo lifts inside the building shafts. Though used for official visits and journeys, the lifts were well policed. He’d take a ladder and hatch.
Ryke patted down the weapons, double-checking. Going up wouldn’t be necessary if he didn’t need to see Gyle before him, where body language and facial expressions were out in the open. It spoke of distrust and he knew that.
Never thought he’d reach a time when he couldn’t, quite, trust the king’s advisor.