Deep (2 page)

Filed Under "Integration"

By any conventional standards, the Vogt ship was of average size. But to Lawn Bascomb, it was huge. More importantly, it was hers. All hers, and only hers.

She hungrily eyed the sleek outer details, scarcely taking in the more minute distinctions which signified this particular Vogt as belonging to her. Honestly speaking, she was too damn nervous. Like a virgin at her deflowerment, all she could concentrate on was the outward silvery beauty of the ovoid vessel. On being in the presence of this one-man ship, and knowing she was The One Man. There was no thought of the mission that was to come.

"G.E. Officer Bascomb, please report to landing deck eight.

G.E. Officer Bascomb, please report to landing deck eight."

I'm already here
.
Idiots.

Her personal opinion of the eggheads who ran the Galactic Enforcement Bureau was one she had no choice but to keep to herself. It had taken her four long and unbelievably hard years to finally reach her goal. In the process, she had taken a shitload of crap and had been treated repeatedly like a third-class citizen. But she had endured, suffered, prayed, and finally managed to wrangle herself onto the list of Galactic Enforcers. It was a very exclusive list. One that many people argued was not so much a list of self-important space jockeys as it was a ticket to a lifetime of psycho sessions.

16

Either way, Lawn was happy to have finally made it.

Staring at her new assignment, she could allow herself to breathe freely, think freely, and ultimately live freely without the government dictating her every move. Now, and in the future.

Hey, there had to be some major rewards for putting one's ass on the line for a full year in order to protect the planet.

This Vogt's designated call sign was 2023 ACE. The fluorescent white numbers and letters ran like a banded belt around its midriff. Lawn vaguely remembered someone describing the deep space ships as looking like footballs, whatever those were. To her it resembled an egg that came to a rounded point at both ends. To her right she could make out the large viewing port of the bridge. Which meant the engines were to her left, hidden from sight until it was time to launch. Overall, the ship was a thing of absolute beauty—

ultra-functional, streamlined, unique, and
it's mine. All mine.

At least for the next year. Two years, actually, if she counted the six months she'd spend in sleep suspension going out to her post, and six months to return planetside.

"Officer Bascomb?"

The man's sudden appearance startled her. Lawn took a step backwards and away from him, but not before giving him a dirty look. Two days ago, she wouldn't have dared shown any sign of disrespect to a superior. But that was two days ago. A lot had happened since then.

"Captain Brune."

Brune managed a lopsided grin. "Welcome to your assignment."

17

Lawn noticed the man's quick glance at her face before he averted his eyes. After all this time, the guy still couldn't control himself? She refused to return the grin. "Thanks. Are you my send-off pilot?"

"Your send-off and your contact."

Well, hell. Maybe I should be a little nicer then.
Lawn started to apologize when Brune held out an arm and waved in the ship's direction.

"Why don't you go aboard and introduce yourself?" he asked.

Another surprise. "I can?"

Her SOP chuckled. "Of course, you can. Your clearance came in this morning. And after all, it is your ship. Go ahead and let it tag you. Get that much over with, but try not to stay too long. Remember, evening roll call is at eighteen hundred sharp."

She didn't need to be offered twice. Giving the man a nod of thanks, Lawn started across the blacktop and headed directly for the wide center of the elliptically shaped vessel.

The closer she got, the more she could discern of the outer hull. It wasn't silver in color, as she'd first believed, but more of a flat, light gray color that was nonreflective. It was difficult to see where any panels, identifying doors, or ports were located. In fact, she couldn't find the outer hatch until the door opened up and a short flight of steps lowered to the ground.

She paused at the landing and stared up into the ship's interior. A soft glow illuminated the way. "Hello?"

18

It was silly of her to call up into an empty ship, but she wanted to.
She
wanted to. It was her first attempt at doing something she wanted to do, and it had felt good. Very good.

Really good. In fact it almost felt too good to be true.

"Hello?"

Shit.
This much freedom was almost worth all those years she'd climbed the officers' ladder and been forced to hang on by her fingernails as hundreds tried to knock her off.

Why don't you go aboard and introduce yourself?

Without a pass and a checkpoint? Or a supervisor observing her every move?

"Oh, hell, yeah," Lawn murmured, smiling broadly. This was her ship, which meant it had to obey her. It had to follow her rules. Pass her inspections. And, more importantly, it had to do so for the entire year she was assigned to it.

The ladder ended at a wide center corridor. Behind her was a compartment containing a zero gravity oxygen suit.

Otherwise, the corridor ran seamlessly to her left and right.

Lawn took a deep breath. The paperwork was done, the orders had been approved, and all that was left was for her to take command of 2023 ACE. Although, officially, she wasn't due to take possession and lift off until tomorrow.
Well, I
guess there's no time like the present.
She peered down the seemingly endless hallway. "Vogt Twenty Twenty-three ACE, respond."

There was a slight tremor in the walls and floor. Lawn grimaced.
Good going, idiot. You forgot to tell it how to
respond. Let's try that again, shall we?

19

"Vogt Twenty Twenty-three ACE, light the way to the bridge...please."

She was still pronouncing the "s" when the bright glow filled the corridor to her left. "Thank you," she added, and began walking toward the bridge.

Two years of cockpit simulation had trained her on every part of the vessel's flight and weapons arrays, so the sight of the actual thing didn't give her pause. What she didn't expect was the shiny, almost mirrorlike patina on every surface. The simulator used by the Bureau was dull gray, much like the exterior of the ship. This interior almost blinded her with the lights' reflections.

"Vogt Twenty Twenty-three ACE, lower illumination by fifty percent, please."

The ship promptly adjusted the lights to a more tolerable level.

Lawn took a deep breath. The ship had allowed her onboard because it had scanned her the moment she had stepped onto the ladder, and it had recognized her authority code embedded in the badge on her uniform. But that code was only good enough to get her into the ship. For the Vogt to accept her completely, she had to go through the final acceptance steps.

That was why Brune had told her to go ahead and board the ship. To finish the final steps so that tomorrow when it came time to do the actual launch, everything would go smoothly and accurately. And on time.

"Vogt Twenty Twenty-three ACE, commence final acceptance phase."

20

On cue, a panel behind her went transparent, and the door slid into the wall to reveal a tiny chamber. Lawn quickly doffed her uniform and stepped naked into the chamber. The floor warmed beneath her bare feet, as did the air around her. The door slid closed, but she could still see the bridge through the panel.

"Close your eyes."

It was a male voice. A deep, very masculine voice that almost vibrated through her. The sound of it surprised her, although she had been prepared for it. Or thought she had.

She knew the ship would be male, but the voice was still a shock.

Closing her eyes, Lawn felt the prickly sensations crawling like invisible fingers over her skin. They were immediately followed by a cool chill threading its way into her bloodstream and seeping into her bones. The ship was doing an in-depth genetic scan, tracking every part of her body. It was connecting itself to her in every way possible, both mentally and physically. Memorizing her in the only way it could as it also verified her readouts with the set of readouts it had been previously fed.

The invisible crawling fingers wove their way over her breasts, and Lawn gasped. Heaven help her, she could feel herself becoming physically aroused. The fingers felt wonderful as her nipples tightened into sensitive points. The ship's touch was tantalizing. Incredibly lifelike.

Nobody had told her the examination would be like this. It was like a man was rubbing his hands over her. Gentle, slow, and thoroughly. Like a lover taking his time to prepare her for 21

penetration. She shivered involuntarily, and the ship immediately reacted. From somewhere warm air began to fill the chamber. The ship thought she was cold.

Holding her breath, Lawn closed her eyes and waited for the Vogt's search to reach her mound. The tickling slid over and through her with deliberate caresses. She felt herself responding as she grew wetter in anticipation. Without realizing she'd done so, Lawn parted her legs to give the Vogt better access.

There was a slight pressure inside her womb, a rubbing against the inner walls before traveling downward. The invisible fingers scraped across her g-spot, and Lawn felt the shock of her orgasm jolt her with electrifying intensity. The suddenness of it caught her unprepared.

She shrieked softly as her hands clutched herself and she bent over in response. The fingers vanished as she leaned against the chamber walls. Gasping, she felt the last of the shudders vibrate out of her, leaving her weak-kneed and light-headed. Presently, the panel slid open, allowing her step back onto the bridge to retrieve her clothes.

"Welcome aboard, Officer Bascomb," the melting male voice said. "I am delighted to finally get to know you."

The hard, muscular contractions had left her, but now she felt herself trembling from the aftermath. Her breasts continued to throb. She had never felt such an intense sexual release after a mere DNA scan. Obviously there was a lot she'd been subjected to that she hadn't been informed about.

But one thing was certain. It wouldn't be the last time this ship, this exclusive Vogt vessel, would do it to her.

22

They were going to spend the next year by themselves at one of the most remote posts in the outer galaxy. Which meant she would have plenty of time to examine and experience 2023 ACE's touch on her skin again.

"Good to meet y-you, too, Vogt Twenty Twenty-three ACE," she managed to mumble. She reached for her uniform when her eyes caught sight of a male face, a head, reflected in the surface of the comm board. Looking up, Lawn stared into the holographic image of the most incredibly arresting man she had ever seen. Of a visage she never believed she would be able to see again.

Floating in the middle of the air mere inches away from her, the image smiled back, disregarding the stunned look she knew she must be wearing.

"Call me 'Deep'," the male voice said.

Lawn swallowed hard.
And call me dead.
"Then you need to call me Lawn."

"Lawn."

In that voice, it sounded like a caress.

She was going to spend an entire year with this artificially intelligent ship? Lawn wondered how she would survive once her assignment was over.

Communique 2B

To: G.E. Coordinator Millner

Scanning complete. Full acceptance integrated. All systems are go for launch tomorrow.

Addendum: You never told me there'd be an orgasm!

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23

Filed Under "Indoctrination"

Lawn stared up at the ship. It would be the last time she would be able to view the outside hull from this perspective for the next two years. The trip to the outpost would take six months. She was assigned to the outpost for a year, followed by the six month trip back. Going up and coming back, she would spend the time in hibernation as the ship—
Deep. Its
name is Deep.
—fed her further lessons in astral navigation and everything else she'd need to know about running the outpost once they arrived.

An involuntary shiver ran through her. Two years with the ship. She'd have two years alone with a ship that could project itself in human form. All right, a holographic human form, but still it was better than total isolation.

The memory of those invisible fingers made her breasts ache for their touch. She'd gotten little sleep last night, but it didn't matter. Not when she was about to take a six-month-long nap. Regardless, Lawn wondered if she would dream while in suspension. And if she did, would it be about...that?

Where did he get the idea for that particular human form?

The one he presented to her? Was it an image of one of the scientists who had worked on the vessel? Or was it the ship's creation, pieced together from pictures in its memory banks?

Why in the hell did it look so much like the man at the
fountain? Oh, God.
Another thought struck her. What if the 24

scientists had managed to pull that man's image from her mind? Could they do that?

It doesn't matter, Lawn. You're going to have a long time
to ask him all the questions you want. Right now you need to
get your butt onboard and prepare for liftoff.

Hoisting her lone bag of personal belongings over her shoulder, Lawn strode toward the ship as the public address system called for her presence onboard. She rolled her eyes and quickly went up the hatch steps. The ship lit the interior as she approached, and quickly extinguished them behind her.

As she climbed up the narrow tube to the walkway, the ship bathed her in several rings of blue lights. The ship was scanning her again, comparing her DNA against the molecular tissue scan it had done on her yesterday. If there had not been a match, the Vogt would have stopped her from advancing any further.

Lawn paused on the lit walkway. "Hello, Deep."

"Hello, Lawn. Welcome aboard."

"Got my bed ready?"

"And the sheets warmed."

Once inside the interior, Lawn followed the path of lights to a short stairwell leading downward. At the bottom she entered the main living area of the ship where she would sleep and eat when she wasn't working on the bridge.

Lawn paused as she stared at the oval-shaped bed with its raised domed roof. To the rear of the cabin was a set of tall doors, as well as a wall of smaller compartments. Her mental schematics recognized the tall doors as the bathroom.

25

"You can put your things away while I power up," Deep said to her.

Her eyes immediately spotted the tiny speakers in the ceiling. Next to each perforated disk was a second solid one with a tiny antenna, which she privately thought of as a miniature nipple. The entire ship was studded with these itty-bitty communication combos—the ear and the nipple. Except, in this case, these barely inch-long teats were capable of projecting the vessel's holographic form. The analogy made her smile. "Sounds like a plan," she acknowledged.

Rather than unpack, Lawn stuffed her duffle into one of the small compartments and slammed the door. There wasn't a lot to unpack, anyway. From the moment she was notified she had been chosen for outpost duty, she had begun to systematically give away, sell, or throw away everything she owned, knowing she would have to meet a rigid weight restriction.

Since she had no family to hold any of her things while she was away, she couldn't see any sense in paying a company to watch stuff that cost less than their fee. Hence, everything she could live without she got rid of. And what she couldn't bear to part with, she could now pack into a duffle. Problem solved.

That done, she retraced her steps back up to the main entry and made her way into the control room. "Give me a countdown," she ordered the ship.

"Liftoff in sixteen minutes, forty seconds."

She took her seat and waited for it to adjust to her contours. At the same time, it strapped her in and moved her 26

toward the shiny control panel. Lawn barely glanced at her reflection in the board as she checked her readouts.

"Central calling Officer Bascomb."

"Go for Bascomb."

"Officer Siler has been notified that you are on your way."

It was Captain Brune. He would be with her for the entire two-year period as her direct link with the Bureau. Her sole tie to the planet.

"How's he doing out there?"

"He says it's nice and quiet."

"That's good to hear." She smiled. That's all she wanted, too. A nice and quiet stint on the outer fringes of their solar system, followed by a sweet promotion and all its perks and benefits when she arrived back on Earth.

"Liftoff in nine minutes, sixteen seconds," Deep said.

"Good luck, Lawn," Brune said. "I'll see you on arrival."

"Thank you. Bascomb out." She manually closed communications, since the ship was busy with last-minute details before liftoff. In fact, she had little else to do. Once they were out of Earth's atmosphere, she would hand the ship over to itself, and then she would climb into her little bed capsule for a six-month sleep.
My hibernation.

She was determined to make liftoff textbook perfect.

Although the ship followed a predetermined navigational route to the outpost, it had one glaring blindness. It couldn't steer itself. Which was why it needed a human counterpart to tell it when to dodge something when that something unexpectedly got in the way during liftoff.

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Like the crash of '27. Lawn grasped the two throttles and steeled herself. She had been eight years old when she'd first seen the vidcast of the horrible accident. When a passenger airline had unexpectedly crossed the outpost ship's airspace, and both had exploded in a fireball. Over nine hundred lives had been lost. To this day, the Bureau showed that clip as a lesson to every cadet in the program.

"Liftoff in sixty seconds," Deep told her. "All is secured. We have a go with command."

Lawn nodded. "I'm ready. Let's do it!"

started voicing the countdown from twenty. Beneath her feet she could feel the engines vibrating as they increased power. So far, everything felt exactly like the simulation. The only difference was that once they reached the upper atmosphere, the lights wouldn't go down and the captain wasn't going to open up the faux door to the control room to tell her how badly she had screwed up.

"Four. Three. Two. One. Starting acceleration."

"Commence liftoff."

The Vogt ship arose from the landing pad and hovered momentarily as it waited for Lawn to aim it upward. Once the landing gear retracted, the ship pointed its nose at the sky and began its ascent.

"Watching my back, Deep?"

"You're clear," the ship assured her, meaning her airspace was wide open.

Before she knew it, the Vogt was in the upper atmosphere.

Quickly, she rolled the ship so that the sun's rays would strike the protected underbelly as they continued out into space.

28

After another sixteen-thousand miles, Lawn could relax both figuratively and mentally.
So far so good.
Now it was time to bed down.

Undoing the harness signaled the console seat to release its hold on her. Lawn got to her feet and took one final look out the viewscreen. The sight of the unfolding universe never failed to enthrall her. It was one of the reasons why she had chosen this vocation.

"Your bed is ready," Deep informed her.

"So am I." And it was the truth. The stress of the past three years getting ready for this mission had taken its toll on her. The option of sleep had often been sacrificed in order to get in whatever extra practice or drill she required to hone her abilities. Any fraction of a second she could shear off her time trials had placed her that much closer to being chosen for this kind of mission. The next six months would be her reward for her sacrifices.

Downstairs, she quickly stripped and went into the bathroom to relieve herself. Once she was placed under hyperthermatic sleep, her bodily functions would almost cease, negating the need to visit the potty in mid-transit.

Still, she wanted to make sure she crawled under the covers with an empty bladder.

For a split second she caught the reflection of herself in the mirror above the collapsible sink. Her hand involuntarily lifted to touch her cheek. Angrily, she straightened up and glared back at her image. "It's over," she told herself firmly. "For the next two years there's nothing holding you back. Nothing. Got that?"

29

"Got what, Lawn?"

If she didn't know any better, the ship sounded sincerely curious.

"Never mind."

Naked, she climbed into her pod bed and turned onto her side, in her favorite sleep position. The bed's transparent lid lowered itself, and she heard the muffled clicks when it secured the seals.

"Breathe regularly," Deep instructed her. "Don't be afraid if you start to feel disoriented or dizzy."

She couldn't help but smile. "Yes, Momma."

She had to give credit to the ship for not responding.

Vaguely, she wondered if the Vogt had been programmed to give snappy comebacks.

A soft mist began to fill the pod, silent and white. She reached up to feel it, and found it cold. Lawn drew the sheet up over her body, found a comfortable position for her head on the thin pillow, and closed her eyes.

The last thing she heard before she drifted off was Deep wishing her a restful sleep.

Communique 2D

To: G.E. Coordinator Millner

Liftoff successful. Mission on track and on time.

Estimated arrival—183 days, six hours, forty-one minutes.

Addendum: I think this arrangement is going to work out well. I am feeling very confident that this mission will be successful.