Future Unleashed Page 7

  “I don’t think that’s the best way up,” came a musical voice from the ridgetop.

  She was standing there, both hands resting gently on the heads of short-haired wolves that regarded me with dark, glittering eyes. They were rigid and alert, but the woman between them was relaxed and smiling at me lazily. She was of average height, with strong legs and long arms, her skin sun-kissed and lightly freckled. Her hair—windswept, auburn, careless—fluttered to the side. There was a breeze on the ridge, and even at our distance, I could see her eyes—blue, twinkling with secrets, and her teeth flashed in the sun as she smiled down at me. This was a woman who knew things, and who was used to learning things from other people.

  Her will was palpable, and I began to walk up the slope, never taking my eyes from her outline. She wore handstitched leathers, and where her arms were exposed there were coiled luminous serpents done in ink that recalled an artistry of a different time. She tilted her head at me, eyes rounding as she took my measure.

  As for her beauty, it was rare. As to her presence, it was rarer still, and the wolves both whined in unison as they asked permission of their mistress about what should be done.

  She stilled them with a muttered sound, and they sat as one, watching me, but without the febrile intensity of earlier.

  “Jack Bowman. You’re rather far north,” she said.

  It was statement and question all in one, and I was drawn up short by the assurance with which she spoke it. Her accent was everywhere and nowhere at once. Removing a hand from one of her wolves, she pushed a lock of hair out of her eyes then smiled again.

  “I am. And you are?”

  “Valor. Some people call me the Lady of Hounds. I can’t imagine why.” Her lip curled at the joke, but she said nothing else. Instead, she watched me as I approached, spilling sand and gravel down the ridge behind me until I stood a meter away, close enough to see the details of her tattoos.

  “Are you the ghost I’ve been looking for?” I asked.

  She looked away, smiled, then stifled a laugh. “Maybe, but I can assure you, I’m quite real. So are my lands, and my people. My hounds are a different story altogether. They can vanish in a moment, and they leave no trail, even when on the hunt. We’re made for this place, and you coming here means many things to me, but I can’t say if that’s good or bad.”

  “I’m not here to fight. I’m not even sure why I’m here, other than the fact that you might be in between me and something I need to find. The Procurators, before you ask,” I said.

  Her eyes narrowed at that. “Ah. Them.” The wolves stiffened at the change in her mood, but she calmed them again with a word.

  “I take it you’re not friendly with them?”

  “Quite the opposite. In the past four years of my career, I’ve hunted and killed two of them, though there are many more. Their base appears to be Kassos, but it’s so far from my land that I don’t dare strike out for them. I need them to cross my path, when and where it suits them, and even then they’re hard to find,” she said. Her words were tight with frustration.

  “They cut people apart,” I said.

  “Among other things. Always a step ahead, even of my hounds. I have my suspicions as to how, but . . .” she trailed off with a shake of her head. “Bring your truck up here and come with me?”

  “Where to?” I asked.

  “Why, my home, of course. We need to discuss our plans,” Valor said, matter-of-factly.

  “Our plans?”

  “Yes. Ours. Me, my wolves, and your people. I know who you are, and I know what you can do. Believe we’ll need it all if we’re to find the real ghosts and drive them from the earth. They have no business on my land or any others, but we can’t do it apart. We might not even be able to do it together, but that depends on many things, not the least of which is asking you to take a step farther north. Past even my lands, to a place where a rumor leads us.”

  “What’s at the end of the path this rumor will lead us on?” I asked.

  Valor looked hopeful, then uncertain. “A Procurator. Dead, but still—the only one I know of, or have ever heard of dying.”

  “How do you know it’s there?” I asked.

  She smiled, and it was bittersweet. “Because a king fought him and died from his wounds, but not before he told me where this Procurator could be found.”

  “And you trust this king? I mean no offense to the dead, lady.”

  She smiled. “None taken, and yes, of course I trust him. He was my husband.”

  11

  Valor rode with me, the wolves pacing alongside in an easy, loping stride. We cut across ground that changed in subtle ways, crossed a wide, shallow creek, and emerged alongside a scene that surprised me in every way.

  Before us, there were crops, and they were thriving.

  “How?” I asked.

  “Irrigation. We started four years ago, when I took command of the crescent lands. With the kings both dead, it was me, a few scared villages, and a lot of uncertainty. I knew water was key, along with security. I chose to build both at once. There are guards on the outer edges of every field, and the wolves can be anywhere in our land in a short time. We’ve held off outsiders for long enough to expand to six villages, with a seventh being built as we speak. My people are safe, Jack, but not for long,” Valor said.

  “Why? What will change?”

  “Our size. When villages thrive here in the north, they eventually catch the eye of the Procurators, and we’re on the cusp of that happening. I won’t allow my people to fall under their evil, and I can tell you it’s only a matter of time before they come for you. If I know about you, the Procurators do too. Your distance has been a deterrent, but it won’t be that way forever. You’re too big a prize,” she said.

  “We have other factors in our favor. Not just distance,” I said.

  “Really? An army? High walls? What do you have that can withstand whatever it is those monsters use to harvest people like cattle?” Valor asked. Her blue eyes flashed with an anger that threatened to break free at any moment.

  I didn’t know her well enough to discuss the Chain or the Cache, so I answered the only way I could without lying. “The Procurators will find us a hard nut to crack if they strike south, no matter how tempting a target we might seem.”

  Valor gave a slow nod at that, but I could tell by the tilt of her head she knew it was a dodge. She chose not to pursue the topic, but pointed to a huddle of solid-looking buildings to the northwest. “That way, if you don’t mind. I’ll introduce you to my people, and you can call yours. You’ll want to send the drone home, too. It’s getting close to dark.” Her smirk was knowing, and it fit her.

  I looked up at the Condor high overhead, sighed, and waved. Tapping my communicator, I reached Andi first, since I knew she would be handling the drone later in the day. “Call the bird home. I’m safe for now.”

  “I’ll bet. She’s stunning. We’re all taking bets on when you’ll propose,” came Andi’s voice.

  Valor lifted a brow at that then gave me a furtive smile. “For tonight, we’ll see. I belong to no man, but you might be able to have me. For now.”

  “See? Told you.” Andi’s voice crackled with humor as she spoke to someone on her end. I wondered if any wagers had been placed, then decided not to count my winnings before I’d left the table. Valor had an air about her unlike any woman I’d ever met, and it went beyond her fierce independence. My blood sang when she touched my arm, and I knew that whatever happened beyond the borders of her fields, I’d stumbled into something entirely new.

  “I’ll see you back home. I’m onto the Procs in a roundabout way, but it’s just the beginning,” I said.

  “Be careful, Jack. There’s a hole in our data about these bastards, and I don’t like it. Yulin is ready to lead a battalion of Daymares out like a posse, and it’s only Aristine who is keeping her locked down for now. Go slow. These aren’t warlords. They’re worse,” Andi said.

  “I will. You have my
word. Out for now,” I said, because there was nothing I could say that would make the Procs less dangerous. There were only things I could do.

  “Your people care about you. That’s good,” Valor said.

  I looked at the open faces of the people waiting to greet Valor and realized the same was true for her. She was held in high regard. She was no tyrant.

  “The same goes for you. May I meet your people?” I asked.

  “Please,” Valor said, waving me forward with a bright smile. The next few minutes were a blur of pressed hands and timid smiles, some bold laughter, and a few cautious looks. Underneath it all, there was a deference to Valor that had nothing to do with her mastery of the wolves. It was her mastery of people that impressed me. When I’d met everyone in the village, we began to walk out toward a road that connected the other communities. It was broad and well-tended, with low trees and the occasional shed filled with simple tools. When I raised a brow at the shed, Valor stopped and opened the door further.

  “Irrigation is an unending process. We can never win against the elements, so we work a bit each day to make sure the channels are clear. It’s like a communal defense. We all take a turn at the shovel, no matter who or what we are. We share the blisters and the back pain, and we share the water, and crops, and life as well. It’s a common bond that will never go away for as long as we continue to carve our place out of this world,” Valor said. Her eyes were bright with satisfaction.

  The fields were large; the crops orderly and in a dizzying array. Whatever Valor’s skill with people, their skills were clearly farming. This was a community with a purpose, and they weren’t just surviving. They were growing.

  Like the Oasis.

  We reached the end of an oval area, far from the central buildings. The sun was slipping away, purple night climbing high in the east as the first stars came out in silver abandon. The last breeze of the day began to strip heat from the air. Valor sat on a wide rock, tucking one leg up and leaving the other out awkwardly. She put the leg across me, wincing slightly when I sat down.

  “Tweaked my knee this morning, but it’s healing,” she said with a rueful grin.

  “Fast healer?” I asked.

  “You have no idea. Of course, certain activities are better for healing. I don’t imagine giving a guided tour of the first village falls under that category, but it’s fine. I’ll be good in the morning as long as I don’t roll down another hill,” Valor said. There was a wicked gleam in her eyes as she massaged her kneecap. Her leg was muscular, elegant, and shaped like living art. She had an unusual body—small, high breasts, long arms, strong all over, and covered in art the color of the world.

  Again, my blood sang just being near her. She wiggled her toes, regarding the dust on them with a critical eye, then she placed two fingers on my wrist. “You’re not even breathing hard, and we covered quite a bit of ground.”

  “I do that daily,” I said, smiling. “Not a lot of chance to be still where I’m at.”

  She leaned forward to kiss me, and her eyes went round like she was making a memory of the surprise on my face, but then I understood it was more than that. She wanted to see; to collect and savor and live in the seconds between deciding to kiss me and the instant I accepted—a fact of which there was never any doubt. It was a short time, but the gap was enough that she gave a half-smile before her full lips closed on mine at a soft angle, the touch firm, confident, then light and teasing.

  “What about your knee?” I asked into her mouth. She smelled of sunshine and tea.

  “I’ll let you know,” was her only answer, then she kissed me again, her head tilting slowly, like a ship coming to rest where it’s meant to be. Her tongue was warm, the touch joyous and welcome.

  “Here?” I asked.

  “Here.”

  She rose carefully, lifted her leathers over her head, and stood smiling down as Venus flared to life behind her. I reached out to trace the colors on her arms—whorls and shapes of a design unseen for a long time, I thought. It added to her mystery, even though she stood half nude before me, proud and grinning. Straddling me, she kept her other clothes on, then took both of my hands and placed them deliberately along two spots on her back. There was nothing special about the location—it was simply another smooth point on her skin, delicate under my fingers.

  “Do you feel it?” she asked me.

  I kept my eyes open, watching her watch me. I began to push with my hands, feeling the firm muscle of her back.

  She twitched hard, hips flying open as a laugh tore from her throat. “There?” I asked, uncertain of what I’d just done. I know women. I did not know her. I resolved to change that after a single touch, because there were secrets inside Valor beyond simple pleasure.

  “Left side first,” she said, guiding my head to her neck where the scent of sunshine was so powerful it pushed back against my lips. I kissed along her jawline, earning a sharp inhale as my fingers continued to work, but the spot I’d touched on her back was elusive. It moved, coy and darting, but I would find it not far from where we started, and she would be wracked again with a shiver of delight.

  This was new.

  It was also very, very good.

  “More of you,” she murmured, standing reluctantly.

  I took off my clothes like they offended me, then sat back down. She straddled me again, and the heat of her was a tantalizing distance away, but her hips stayed high. It wasn’t time yet.

  Our skin touched at a dozen points, her nipples rising firm and rebellious. I could not resist. I bent to kiss them, biting softly as she bucked in response, my own body flushing with a heat that grew with each passing second. My visions swam. My blood roared.

  This was not me. This was something else entirely, and when she lowered herself on me, we began to move at a glacial pace, every inch of her fitting to me as my heartbeat like a triphammer while we watched each other. I let my hands chase the hidden points around her back, her neck—even a gentle press against the nape of her shoulder, causing her to flash a smile of charged joy before the secret place moved on, leaving only soft skin under my hands.

  “Who are you?” I asked her, even as we continued moving in a long, slow rhythm.

  Her answer was only partially hidden, like her smile. She took my hand and spread the fingers in a vee, then placed it over the hood of her mound. The heat was electric; the skin stippled with nerves in the throes of a building wave. I pushed against her even as I was inside, moving in two directions at once while she bore down on me, blue eyes still wide as she stole every look, every sound, and every second of my moment as I came hard, colors flashing through my sight with kaleidoscopic intensity that bordered on pain.

  She put her lips on my neck, tongue playing softly until the spasms faded and we were clothed only in the night.

  “What just happened?” I asked her, knowing it was something different.

  “In the morning, you’ll see,” she said, then silenced me with a kiss.

  12

  I didn’t wake in the morning.

  I woke in the night, a full hour before dawn when the night birds were still plying the air in their looping arcs under the fleeing stars. The skin on my arm itched, and my body hummed with a purpose I’d not known since—

  —the first time I felt my ‘bots going to work.

  “What the hell?” I asked no one. I was in a room, on a bed—next to me, Valor slept, still and dreaming, her lips curled in the smile of someone with a light heart. I envied her that moment. Standing quietly, I pulled my shirt on and went through a curtain. The wolves lifted their heads at my passing, but made no movement to follow me as I went outside. We were in Valor’s home; a small, tidy affair with the collection of a woman who values information and experiences more than things. There was a world inside her home, just as there was a universe inside her body. I know. I’d touched it when she touched me, and now I had to figure out what had happened.

  I was answered when I peered at my left wrist in th
e first gloom of pre-dawn.

  There was a mark on me. Not a wound, and not a bruise. A mark. A small bar with bent edges, the color unknown in the gray light. I touched the mark, but there was no pain. I touched it again, and this time the edges moved.

  “Okay,” I said, then repeated the process. The edge of the mark reshaped itself according the pressure of my finger, and I felt a slight shock run along my arm.

  I stood very still, letting the sensation fade before trying it again. The same thing happened twice, and I knew that my body had changed overnight. I also knew the only new thing in my world was Valor, and replaying the events of our lovemaking filled in a whole array of gaps—the sensations, sounds, her reaction to me, and above all else, my reaction to her.

  I knew when I woke up in a world beyond my own that this moment would come. Up until this point, the planet was a wild place, but in a way, it made sense. Monsters made a horrible kind of sense. Death, disease, war. All things I had seen and could grasp, but this was the first truly alien moment of my new life. It was a brand, and it was drawn from within my own body.

  I sat down under the rising dawn and waited for the Lady of Hounds to come tell me the truth.

  “You’ve seen it then?” she asked from behind me.

  Her hair was tousled with sleep, but her blue eyes were bright and alert. She was incandescent in her beauty, and she came to me, straddled me once again, and put her face close to mine, watching every detail of my expression for a purpose I could not guess.

  “You have ‘bots in your blood?” I asked her.

  She nodded, but said nothing. Instead, she kissed me.

  “How old are you?” I asked her.

  “I don’t know.”

  I touched the colors of her arm. “When did you get these?”

  “Five years ago, they began to appear. Small at first, then growing in complexity over time,” she said.

  “What changed in your life five years ago?”

  Valor looked away, into the growing rays of the sun. “I met the king.”