CAPTURED

1529 4D

Turiosten spoke soothingly into the mind of the andro woman she now rode. See? We’re coming into a safe area. No need to worry. I’ll take good care of you. She released control of the woman’s vocal apparatus to hear the response.

The andro woman, tall and beautiful, with pale azure skin and blue-black hair that reached to her skinsuit-clad thighs, exited through the alien ship’s door. Turiosten looked out through the woman’s eyes at a deserted City corridor.

Behind them, the door vanished; the ship returned to its base moment in spacetime, moored in the City‘s dock.

It hadn’t been easy to find andros; an advertisement on the andro sensi feeds had yielded only three responses, but that was all the Zashinhalh had needed, for now. Arlen had hinted that he would supply more andros later. This woman hadn’t cooperated at first with Turiosten‘s voice inside her head, but Turiosten had been quite persuasive.

In the squeaky hisses of the anjive dialect, the woman whispered, “What are you? I can see you in innerspace. You’re not human. You shine like the sun.”

Keep your eyes out of innerspace. I’m looking for one man in the City, Turiosten said. Controlling the woman’s movements was tricky; it would be harder if they both didn’t concentrate on making the woman’s legs walk.

“You sound like a lot of women I know.”

Think of me as a woman like you, but with a bit more power.

“Maybe we can get along. Can I do the walking alone? You’re not too good at it yet – you do it like a tunnel-crawler. Any particular man?”

Arlen of ArCorp. Turiosten gave over the woman’s body to her again. She could always take it back.

“Him? Heh. A bit more power isn’t all you’ll need. Ooh, thanks, that feels much better.” The woman’s movements became astonishingly fluid, smooth, undulant. Such animal skill they all had.

“How do you want to do all this?” the woman asked.

Turiosten imaged the worldlines. Turn left here and take the next lift to Level 155.

“All the way up there?” Nervous.

Yes.

They emerged in a short hallway where two men stood guard, wearing ArCorp uniforms, with hand beam weapons holstered at their sides.

This would be hard; Turiosten had studied the worldlines, and traced them all into darkness. She was supposed to inhabit one of Arlen‘s intimates, but the man had almost none; he guarded himself fanatically, with multiple overlapping circles of half-trusted security staff. The entrances to his complex were guarded with electromagnetic and electrochemical shields that kept even insects and microbes from passing alive.

Turiosten‘s time was limited. Without proper nourishment, she would have to return to the ship prematurely. But, then, nourishment was at hand.

I’ll do things for a while, Turiosten said to the woman, taking control.

A brief nod in reply.

The two men stared admiringly at the andro woman’s body, sheathed in her silver skinsuit.

“Lost, Lady Rep?” one asked her, mocking.

“Not at all. I’ve got an appointment with the administrative office.”

“Who?” The guard put his hand on his beam gun‘s butt.

“He didn’t leave me his name. He said he’d be over to meet me here.”

A knowing nod and a grin. “Oh. We can wait. Right, Dee Mar?” The guard looked over at his partner. “I’m Jurg. Just wait here with us. Oh, and don’t try to leave.” His gun was now pointed at the woman.

“Don’t worry,” Turiosten said serenely, hoping her host was also listening. She came a step closer to Jurg; now to put that andro body to work doing what it was made for. “I can keep you entertained while we wait.” He stiffened.

To her surprise, her andro host subvocalized, You are so clumsy. Let me do this, at least.

Turiosten let the woman ooze her body into a different stance, and the man lowered his handgun. See? It doesn’t take much with a fool like him.

Jurg looked over at Dee Mar. “We take turns? They never hurry getting down here — we’ve got lots of time.”

The other shook his head. “I’ll take the lift one floor down, and hold it there until you call it. You lock the door, and if someone shows, friend, it’s your gleaming oiled cock, not mine.” There were no doors other than the one the men guarded. Dee Mar locked the door, and departed in the lift.

It began with a kiss. The woman needed no prompting; she took Jurg‘s head in her hand and pressed their lips together. Soon their tongues met, and at that moment, Turiosten kicked a load of sedative into the woman’s bloodstream. As the woman began to sag, Turiosten flowed past the two tongues into the man. Now, the guard was hers.

The initial moment of panic in a new host was always troublesome; the human host could hurt itself trying to keep control of its body before the Zashinhalh rider could map out the key neural subsystems. Jurg flailed and convulsed, his body going epileptically rigid and slack, banging head and heels on the floor and walls as he careened and flopped. Finally his head slammed against the stone wall, and his cranial blood pressure dropped to where he passed out.

Irritated, Turiosten waited. She was getting hungry, and this setback didn’t help. At last the man’s brain function came up to where she could open the eyes and check the damage. A hand on the scalp brought blood. She sat up and looked around. The andro woman, face taut with rage, stood pointing the guard’s beam gun at her. The sedative had worn off.

“I don’t know what you are, but I’m going to kill you, scum,” the andro woman said. The beamer flashed; the shot caught Jurg in the throat, cooking the tissues into a steaming mass. The andro woman turned and summoned the lift.

Turiosten was locked in the body of a strangling, dying man. She tried to start repairs on the damage, rerouting nutrients and plasma, but it was too late.