The Zia'n Legacy

Chapter 6

Chapter 6

She glanced around, leaning back against the rough metal of the corrugated gauze lift wall. Streams of water from the ceaseless downpour outside had fought their way through the roof and left rust trails snaking over the walls. The single flickering bulb caused jagged shadows from the protruding pipe-work to dance around the small cage in an all-together far too sinister fashion. The elevator shook as it passed yet another storey on its way to the penthouse floor, sending clouds of dust billowing up all around her. There was a chill in the air; deep mists of breath hung before her, mingling with the dust.

There was a sudden jolt as the elevator reached its destination. The metal all around her creaked as the doors coupled with the outer cage and shuddered open. Azabeth shivered, tugging the zip of her body suit up to her throat. The skin-tight leather was as supple as fine silk, and protested none as she pushed herself from the wall and stepped into the corridor.

From the outside, this apartment building appeared just as any other in the city, and for all intents and purposes, it was. All except for one small addition, the workshop Azabeth now walked towards. Few knew about this place, but she had been coming here for the tools of her trade for years now. The workshop was at complete odds with the building in which it found itself, entirely self contained and sealed off. All the walls were reinforced, and the single entrance was preceded by an airlock and high-grade security system. Any customers were accepted by recommendation only, but the skill of the craftsman and quality of workmanship was well worth the effort and stiff prices.

Azabeth stepped up to a blank steel door. She moved her fingers down the frame, the tips coming to rest on a small trigger. With a push, it slid into the frame. There was a faint clicking sound, and a brick on the wall just to the right of the concealed trigger withdrew into the wall before grinding to the side. A console with a keypad and small onyx black panel glided out from the hole in the wall, level with Azabeth’s eyes. Her fingers skimmed over the buttons, entering her personal access code, a low beep indicating acceptance a moment later.

The entrance procedure was a little... excessive, Azabeth thought, but the occupant felt it necessary, so who was she to judge? And anyway, the services provided were surpassed by none, so that left little other option. On a personal note, Azabeth rather enjoyed her time at the workshop, and the company of its single inhabitant. Her last visit not only left her with the tracking beacon she now needed tracing, but a very fond memory of her stay.

Azabeth bit her lip, the corners of her mouth curling into a coy smile. She placed one hand against the door, leaning the other on the rough brickwork so perfectly juxtaposed with the lab she was about to enter. Moving her head forward, she brought her eye to within an inch of the glistening black square on the console.

         “Scan,” she sighed, not looking forward to the next part of the process.

Her eye only twitched a little as the laser swept across its surface, reading her retina. Both hands dragged their nails over the wall however, when the laser sent searing light shooting into her pupil for a split second. A sharp gasp escaped her lips and she sprang back from the scanner, massaging her temples.

         “God damn it, that never gets any easier.”

She heard a sharp hiss of escaping air from the door before it slid aside without a sound. Once she had stepped into the small chamber there was a forceful sucking noise as the door locked back into place behind her. She took a fleeting look around the small, blank room, barely four foot square, which was lit by an almost blinding white light. Tiny horizontal depressions surrounded her, covering the surface of each wall in a series of parallel lines. Azabeth had been told once what those lines did, and she never ever wanted to experience it first hand. Apparently, being liquefied by hundreds of lasers was not an experience to write home about, although how anyone had a frame of reference for that baffled her somewhat.

         “Identify,” stated a monotone computer voice from nowhere.

         “Ms Azabeth Siege.”

There was a silence for several seconds. Her suit suddenly felt like it was constricting around her, gripping her every inch of flesh like a vice. This last, and most sensitive of the security checks always made her nervous, and today was no exception. Even a sore throat could skew a voice’s frequency patterns enough to provoke the computer, and unless someone human was monitoring the voice’s attempted entrance, they’d soon only be talking from beyond the grave.

         “Verified. Welcome back, Ms Siege.”

Azabeth dropped her shoulders from the hunch she hadn’t realised was there, letting out a deep breath. The inner door of the chamber retracted silently into the ceiling. The room beyond was dimly lit by comparison, and she walked forward, blinking as her eyes adjusted.

The expanse of the workshop was before her, and although she’d seen it many times before, it still made her marvel. There were workbenches lining most of the plain beige walls, all sporting various machines and tools. Moisture and dust were not valued commodities in this clean-room environment, so the whole place had been sealed from floor to ceiling, all windows blocked up, the only entrance airlock controlled. Cupboards, shelves and pieces of equipment lined the huge room. Some cabinets had glass doors and were lit from inside, showing off their contents as if the highlight in a museum display. Desks and podiums covered the floor of the vast workshop, each and every one also covered in parts and components from thousands of different things.

         “Yo! You really gotta do something about that damn eye scanner, the headaches last for days!” she shouted into the room.

Her call was only greeted by a low scraping noise from a far corner. Azabeth took light, swift steps across the floor, eyes all about her to keep from knocking any of the delicate equipment dotted about the place. She made her way towards the abrasive sound. Her eyes fell upon a flickering doorway just as she rounded a huge floor-to-ceiling machine. She could hear cracks and fizzles of electricity coming from the room beyond; the darkness inside the doorway a sharp contrast to the well-lit main room. The sporadic, intense bursts of light from within stopped, as did Azabeth’s movement. A warm glow appeared from inside the room, the light being swallowed as it spilled forth into the brightness of the larger workshop. A silhouetted figure stepped into the doorway.

         “Well well, if it isn’t Azabeth Siege,” the figure said, taking a step forward into the workshop and closing the door to the smaller room.

A pair of blue overalls covered a white shirt, the picture completed by a pair of heavy-looking black boots.

Azabeth’s face broke into a broad smile as she walked forward.

         “Oh come now, it hasn’t been that long...”

She reached up and slipped a pair of jet-black goggles from the figure’s head, her gaze falling onto a pair of striking jade eyes. The goggles dropped to the floor, Azabeth tracing her fingers over the smooth skin of a cheek, stroking them down to the nape of the neck. She slipped her other arm around and linked her hands, elbows resting on a pair of slender shoulders.

         “But I’ve still missed you,” she whispered, brushing her lips across the other’s, lingering as she breathed in the scent from the body she held against her.

Her gentle touch was met with no movement or sound; instead, a cold stare looked back from those deep eyes.

Azabeth pulled away, taking a step backwards, crossing her arms.

         “Oh Tink, you’re not angry are you? Last time... I, I had to leave. I got the call for that job over at the Sixth City border; it was then or never, and I needed the payout...”

         “You could have at least said goodbye,” replied Tink, voice mopey, hands working at the clasps of the denim overalls.

Azabeth’s face fell forward, eyes peering through the floor. When she next spoke her voice was low and withdrawn.

         “I’m... sorry.”

She let her arms drop to her sides, shoulders sagging down.

Tink reached out and lifted Azabeth’s chin with a single finger until their eyes met once again, and only then did she see Tink smile. Azabeth let her eyes travel over the figure in front of her. From her bewitching, deep jade eyes to her delicate lips, Tink was truly beautiful. Flowing brown hair cascaded down around her shoulders, ending at her waist. Slightly shorter than Azabeth, the woman was thin, but her breasts fought against a tight work shirt and her hips led to a shapely behind, her perfectly formed figure hidden beneath the overalls she wore. With her smile came a brightness in her eyes, demeanour changing instantly as her whole face softened. Tink brushed a wisp of hair from her face, trailing a fingertip down from her temple to her pouting lips, letting it rest there. A smirk crept across her face as she licked the tip of her finger deliberately.

         “Ooh you tease,” murmured Azabeth, breath lingering on the last syllable.

She reached out and took hold of Tink’s wrist, other palm pushing on her shoulder, moving her back against the solid wood. Azabeth pinned the svelte woman’s arm against the door by her head. With her other hand she grabbed the denim hem of the overalls Tink wore and yanked them downward before slipping her arm around the woman and pulling their bodies tight against each other. She pressed their lips together, a small moan in the back of her throat. Her eyes closed, both women parting their lips to let their tongues find each other. As they lost themselves in the kiss completely, Tink’s free arm came around and gripped Azabeth’s ass, her hand sliding down between her thighs...

* * * * *

Azabeth swam into consciousness, the last remnants of broken dreams flitting from her mind. The deep-pile covers were so soft and warm against her skin, but nothing compared to the body next to her. She lay there for a time, completely motionless, savouring the bliss she found her senses drowned in. She took a deep breath and finally opened her eyes, blinking to fight back the light. With her exhalation she stretched her whole body, pointing her toes out like an arrow, pushing her arms straight above her head and wiggling her fingers. Tink’s sleeping form stirred next to her, breathing still shallow and calm.

Azabeth rolled onto her side. She reached out and traced a fingertip over the contours of the young woman’s spine, caressing the smooth skin of her back. Her eyes wandered over the body she lay with, the pale flesh aglow in the fresh morning light, and quite captivating. This was the only room in the whole place to have open access to the outside world. Rays of sunlight streamed in through the overhead window and lit the room with a warm ambience.

She let her hand trail further down Tink’s body, tenderly following the curve of her buttock before slipping her hand over and around the woman’s waist. Her body was warm to the touch and she could feel her each breath whisper from her mouth. Azabeth shifted a little to rest her legs against Tink’s, a toe idly stroking the smaller woman’s ankle. Tink gave a sharp intake of breath, waking with a start. Her hand found Azabeth’s, and they linked fingers, squeezing gently. When she turned her head, her smile could’ve melted the most frozen of hearts.

         “Ahh,” she breathed, “you’re still here this morning.”

Azabeth couldn’t help but laugh, smiling back at her friend. She let her head drop, resting against Tink’s forehead as they stared into each other’s eyes.

         “I’ve no reason to leave in a rush, yet,” replied Azabeth, placing a soft kiss upon the pouting lips in front of her.

          “Beth... You’re going nowhere,” said Tink, a filthy smirk painting her features.

Tink flipped over onto her knees to face Azabeth. She pushed her shoulders down onto the bed and Azabeth felt her spring up and land straddled across her hips. Azabeth reached up and took her friend’s face in her hands, gazing into her eyes.

         “I’m glad to hear it.”

She drew her hands down Tink’s body, cupping her breasts, her thumbs playing over her nipples. Tink closed her eyes and sighed.

         “Tink, I’m sorry I had to go away for so long. After that border job, I picked up another lead that brought in a big pay packet. I couldn’t pass it up.”

         “How much?” asked Tink as her hands traced Azabeth’s chest.

         “Enough to pay you what I owe you, and to pay for the equipment I’m going to need for this new job...” Azabeth’s voice trailed off into silence, leaving the sentence hanging in the air.

Tink froze, hands resting over Azabeth’s stomach as she peered down into her eyes. Azabeth saw her lip tremble for the briefest moment before her eyes dropped from the gaze they shared.

         “You’re... going away again, aren’t you...”

Azabeth laughed, covering one of Tink’s hands with her own, the other reaching up to cradle her cheek.

         “Oh sweet Tink, I’m not going anywhere this time; it’s a local job. At least, I think it is. You remember that tracking beacon you made for me the last time I was here? I had it planted on a car. It was tracing fine, then the signal just went dead.”

         “Did it leave the city boundaries?” said Tink, her brow furrowing.

         “No,” Azabeth said, shaking her head against the pillow, “I have censors at all the exits to alert me in case a beacon leaves the area.”

Tink leaned to the side and shifted her leg from Azabeth’s hips, lying down by her side. Azabeth lazily draped an arm across her chest, rolling to face the smaller woman. She raised her eyebrows in question.

         “I don’t know,” said Tink, running a hand through her long hair, “if it didn’t leave the city, it must have been destroyed.”

Azabeth sighed, dropping her head onto the pillow in defeat.

         “But it was too well hidden, they would never have found it,” she implored, “Is there nothing else...?”

Azabeth rolled back startled as Tink sprang bolt upright. When she turned and looked at her, Azabeth couldn’t help but smile at the knowing twinkle fresh in her eye.

         “If it wasn’t destroyed, and the signal suddenly died, there’s only one other thing that could happen to it!”

Tink’s words were rushed and Azabeth could see the excitement on her face as her mind raced.

         “Tell me!” exclaimed Azabeth, pushing herself up on her elbows.

         “A damper field, that’s the only way. They disrupt any kind of radio signal so that no one can listen in to what’s inside, or send out unauthorised comms. All the damper zones in the city are registered with the TCC, and they’re not cheap. A licence for one of those comes in at about the same price as a city block of land.”

         “So I just need to know where all the damper zones in Seventh City are. You have a layout of them here?” said Azabeth tilting her head, hand pawing at Tink’s arm.

Tink chuckled, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. Azabeth let her eyes drift down the arch of the younger woman’s spine as she watched Tink push herself up and take a dark red robe from the back of the door.

         “Oh don’t get dressed yet, we’ve got all day...”

Tink flashed a smile over her shoulder as she slipped the robe on, tying it loosely around her waist.

         “Though it’s quite lovely you think me the fount of all knowledge, I am not, quite, infallibly wise.”

Burying her head in the pillow, Azabeth laughed. She rolled and flung the pillow across the room just as Tink’s hand shot out and caught it a foot from her head. Her eyes never left the mirror she was staring into. Her other hand raked through her ruffled strands of hair as she cast the pillow aside.

         “If you don’t have them mapped out here, how do I track the signal down?” said Azabeth, picking her head up to gaze at Tink.

         “You’re not a morning person, are you Beth...” Tink chuckled, turning back to face her. “As I said, they’re all registered with the TCC, who obviously keep records of locations and ranges. Had you come to me a week ago, I would have been able to tap into their mainframe and find out for you.”

Azabeth sat up and leaned against the headboard of the bed. She stretched her arms out wide, basking in the morning sun that poured through the skylight, which was doing a remarkable job of holding back the inevitable flood of toxic rain. There was no sound from the outside world managing to penetrate this little oasis of calm in the middle of the city. No drone from the engines in the thronging streets far below, even the many ships passing dangerously close overhead caused no disturbance other than a quick loss of sunlight. Gathering her knees against her chest, Azabeth pulled the sheets up and wrapped them around to tuck them in behind her.

         “A week ago... I, don’t understand. What happened a week ago?” said Azabeth, her face draining of all excitement.

From across the room, Azabeth could still here the faint sigh escape Tink’s lips. She turned and walked back to the bed, clambering over the thick covers to sit cross-legged at Azabeth’s feet. Azabeth reached out and stroked a hand down the velvety soft skin of her friend’s cheek, curling her fingers around strands of the shimmering brown hair cascading over her shoulders.

         “I don’t know when it happened,” said Tink in a quiet voice, “or even what’s happened, exactly. I keep a program running twenty-four seven that probes the TCC network for vulnerable ports. In simple terms, when they close one connection, the program searches all the open comm channels to find another unsecured one.”

Azabeth slipped her hand around the back of Tink’s neck and pulled the young woman toward her, letting her legs fall open. Tink twisted and laid her head against her chest. She wrapped her arms around Beth’s body and snuggled against her. The warmth of the woman’s body against hers was wonderful, and Azabeth closed her eyes, overwhelmed by affection the briefest of moments, before the situation snapped her back to reality.

         “So, what’s the problem?” she said.

         “I don’t really check the status often. I only use the program when I need to tap the network for some reason. About a week ago I had a client who needed a schematic downloaded from one of the low security TCC stations on the city borders.”

         “And...?” said Azabeth.

         “And when I checked the program to see which port to use, it was in the middle of a rather concentrated apoplexy. Not only were all ports secured doubly than they normally are, but the network itself was bouncing back locator signals all over the show. Seems to me that someone’s gotten in and they don’t want it to happen again. Either that, or they’re sporting some pretty damn confidential information in their mainframe at the moment.”

Azabeth traced her fingertips along the nape of Tink’s neck. She sighed and dropped her head down, body slumping back against the headboard.

         “There’s no way we’re hacking into the mainframe to find that tracer.”

         “No,” Tink said, eventually.

         “Fuck.”

         “What, again?”

Azabeth burst out laughing just as the first of many cacophonous cracks filtered down from the skylight, the sunshine finally giving up the fight against the relentless attack of the rain over Seventh City.