Chapter 4: Human Move

Two months passed before we saw another Sentinel. Two months of rigorous education and training. Britt had worked with me for hours each day until she was satisfied that my real-world body was fully functional and fit, but the bulk of my learning was through the simulator.

That’s where I was when the alarm sounded, having a simulated knife fight with Dakota. While all of us were, instantly, masters at anything we had downloaded, it quickly became apparent that natural affinity and practice could take those downloaded skills to even higher levels. And, just as Zephyr was a natural pilot, Dakota was a wizard with edged weapons of all kinds. She had just demonstrated her mastery of the Catanian variant of Paranza Corta by burying her stiletto into my abdomen – again.

“No, no, no, you overgrown lunk!” Dakota chuckled. In the simulator, Dakota presented as a short, wiry man with coarse black hair and a wispy mustache – far removed from the tall and curvaceous female body she possessed in the real world. “Remember, you must always move forward – always push the fight. If . . . .”

Blake’s voice cut her off. “Dakota, Noelle, we’re pulling you out – Sentinel approaching!” Within seconds we were back in our seats on the Belisarius. “Sit tight for a bit,” Blake continued, now speaking for our real ears. “Hermes wants to try lying doggo again.”

I was at this point used to the rhythms of the ship. I knew that Hermes was, as usual, in his command station at the center of the ship, Zephyr was on pilot duty, and Abhaya was monitoring the Matrix. I assumed that Hermes had sent either Kai or Britt to the weapons station.

With Zephyr at the helm, I didn’t even feel the ship land. I looked over at Dakota, and saw the strain showing in her tense expression.

Blake placed a hand on each of her shoulders and squeezed gently. “Easy, girl,” he murmured.

She reached up and clutched his hand, her grip hard.

I looked away. Blake and Dakota were an item, and Kai and Abhaya . . . . It was accepted. There were no rules against such things, and between the tight quarters and the time the ship spent cruising, non-fraternization would have been impossible to enforce anyway. But for much of the crew of this ship, sexuality was a complicated matter.

The lights went out and we were plunged into darkness. Although I felt like the pounding of my heart should be audible for miles, I knew I alone could hear it. I must not fear . . . .

I tried to think about other things. How had Dakota defeated me, three for three, in our bout? Or, Why can we communicate with the ship by cell phone when we’re in the Matrix, but we can only enter and exit the Matrix by making a call on a landline? But nothing was working. Try as I might, my mind turned to the problem at hand. A machine was hunting us.

And we were hiding.

Hermes’ voice over the intercom, controlled and staccato, was jarring in the darkness. “Kai, engage and destroy.” The lights came back up, and the sound of guns firing shook the ship.

“Target destroyed.” Kai’s voice was strained with excitement.

Hermes responded immediately. “Well done. Kai, stay on weapons. Noelle, join Zephyr at the helm. Everyone else, secure stations.”

The next few seconds were controlled chaos as I rushed to the nose of the ship while the rest of the crew went into the central station and buckled into five-point restraints. I was just squeezing into the co-pilot’s seat when Hermes ordered Zephyr to move out.

Zephyr got us airborne and hit full thrusters. The Belisarius isn’t particularly aerodynamic – unsurprising, since it has no airfoil, using antigravity technology to become airborne – but its thrusters are powerful. In seconds, we were rocketing forward through the ruins of what had been Chicago. Zephyr keyed his mic. “What are you seeing, boss?”

“I’m picking up Sentinels converging on our previous location from four, six and nine o’clock,” Hermes said.

“Straight ahead still clear?” Zephyr asked.

“So far,” Hermes confirmed.

“I’ll try to get as much distance as I can in this direction,” Zephyr told him. “If I can make it to the Monroe station, the old subway tunnel might be our best bet.”

Hermes didn’t hesitate. “Your call, Zephyr. Say when, and I’ll transfer tactical to your readout.”

“Thanks, chief.” Zephyr sounded focused, so I kept quiet. Although I was fully trained – simulator trained – to pilot the Belisarius, everyone knew that Zephyr was our best. Even Hermes.

We sped along, zipping over streets that were completely overrun with vegetation that had grown up in the century since the city’s destruction. Chicago had – if the histories were accurate – served briefly as the last capital of the United States after the AI had destroyed Washington, D.C. But the honor had not lasted long. Now it was just another abandoned hulk.

Zephyr was keeping the Bel as low as possible to minimize the chances for detection. This required dodging around not only the buildings, but also some of the taller trees.

Half a mile from our destination.

“Sentinels showing on our perimeter monitors at one o’clock,” Hermes announced. “They shouldn’t be able to see us before we hit the entrance.” We had apparently placed perimeter monitoring stations before we settled at our last location, extending detection range from our enemies.

We were now just a quarter mile from our destination.

Zephyr rammed the joystick hard to the right, just as four Sentinels appeared directly in front of us. We could hear the Bel’s guns firing. “Copy tactical!” Zephyr shouted.

A tactical display replaced the wysiwyg display on the main forward panel. Four – no, three! – Sentinels were attempting to close the distance to the ship, and all of the Sentinels on the display that were further off were now speeding in our direction.

Zephyr pulled the stick back and we shot skyward, all three Sentinels following – and gaining. But he pulled the Belisarius into a corkscrewed outside loop, and the forward guns caught one of the trailing Sentinels. Its icon vanished.

The loop had brought us back on target to the entrance to the subway that Zephyr had been aiming for, while the two remaining Sentinels were on our tail rather than blocking us. With a flip of his wrist, Zephyr spun the Bel into a dark hole, dangerously close to concrete on all four sides. Usefully, that left the Sentinels a limited space to follow, and one was immediately targeted and destroyed by the rear guns.

The other, unfortunately, appeared to have gotten too close to the ship for any of our weapons to bear. Kai’s strained voice came over the intercom. “It’s hooked on to us!”

“Hold tight!” Zephyr called. He was maneuvering like crazy as he made his way down to where the subway tunnel had been. Fortunately, it was still available and apparently unblocked. Because his hands were busy, he said, “Split tactical and visual, Noelle.”

I made the appropriate adjustments on the dial, and we were able to see the visual display of the tunnel on the right and a tactical display on the left.

Zephyr careened on at a speed that made me clench my teeth. Forks were opening up on the tracks and Zephyr was apparently taking them at random. Left . . . left . . . right . . . left . . . right . . . .

“It’s got three tentacles on us . . . make that four,” Kai shouted, followed by, “laser cutter!”

We hit a small open area and Zephyr spun the Belisarius around to decrease our forward momentum. Then he nudged his way down a tunnel and stopped moving altogether. We could hear the sound of metal being sliced.

“Hurry, dammit!” Kai shoulted.

Using only the antigrav system, Zephyr brought us through what appeared to be a hole in the ceiling of the tunnel caused by damage in structures above. He punched straight up, keeping the rear of the ship close to the opening.

Wham! Something hit hard and the ship was rocked.

“You got him!” Kai sounded exultant.

“Hold fast, he’s still with us,” I said, looking at the tactical screen, which now showed that the impact had detached the Sentinel from the ship. The guns weren’t firing, so the thing was probably still too close.

Zephyr stopped our upward movement and pushed backwards over some type of floor. We seemed to be inside a building, but it wasn’t clear where we were going.

The Sentinel’s appearance directly in front of us on the visual screen was so sudden that I screamed. “Zephyr!!!!”

Eight tentacles reached out and grabbed the front of the ship.

Hermes’ orders came quickly. “Cut power!”

As Zephyr hit the main power switch, three lasers lit up outside and directed towards our hull.

“EMP now, Kai!” Hermes ordered.

It was dark. Dark, dark, dark!!! But we didn’t hear any sounds. Without power, the main display reverted to a simple window, and there was no sign of any lasers.

Zephyr’s voice was soft, barely a murmur. “That should do it. Did you see the other Sentinels on tactical before we shut down?”

I kept my voice low; I wasn’t completely able to prevent it from trembling. “Everything behind us was aiming for the tunnel where we entered. The ones that had been further out, at one o’clock, looked like they were aiming to enter tunnels up the line a ways.”

I felt a presence behind me in the cramped space. Hermes’ voice was even more quiet than ours had been. “We’ll stay lights out and quiet. Keep your stations. If nothing finds us in four hours, we’ll start lighting up by stages.” He left to tell the rest.

And here I was again, in tight quarters and darkness. Oh, joy. Fear is the mind-killer.

Zephyr’s hand closed gently on mine. He lifted my hand and placed it over his chest before tapping the top of my hand twice.

I was at first puzzled, then I noticed what he was trying to get me to understand. He was taking slow, very deep breaths, holding them, and then exhaling equally slowly. I tried to match him. In my present state, the concentration required to do it was more than I expected.

I tried again.

It probably took me ten minutes to really get my breathing under control, and it took constant effort to keep it that way. But I left my hand on Zephyr’s chest, and I found that both his example, and simple human contact, helped enormously.

An hour passed like that. By concentrating on my breathing, I blocked the swirl of thoughts that were trying so hard to break in and overwhelm me. Then Zephyr shifted under my hand.

Light as a feather, I felt a tentative finger stroke my cheek.

I knew Zephyr at this point. Well enough to know that I only had to reach up, softly close his hand, and he would stop. We would never discuss it, and he would not hold it against me. I knew that, while at the same time I had no idea what Zephyr thought of me in particular, or women in general, which was decidedly strange. But it was so.

I reached up slowly . . . and ran my index finger down the back of his hand.

He stroked my cheek again, then twined his fingers with mine, stroking my palm with his thumb.

I felt a shock go through me, like a jolt of electricity. I pulled his hand close and kissed it gently. Once . . . twice . . . a third time. I reached my left hand up from where it had rested and cupped his cheek. Is he smiling?

His body shifted further, leaning toward me, then I felt the fingers of his left hand come around to the back of my neck. He was close; I could feel his breath, warm and welcoming in the darkness.

With my hand on his cheek, I knew just where he was. I leaned in, and our lips touched.

His left arm tightened, and our lips locked. The kiss became urgent, powerful. In moments, his tongue was searching for mine and I engaged him eagerly.

But all was done in complete silence. Even our breathing remained controlled. We were in danger and the danger hadn’t passed. Moreover, we were strapped in place and we needed to stay there.

His hand slipped beneath my top and he stoked the soft flesh of my belly. I inclined my body, willing his hand to explore further. Soon, he was cupping my breast, running his thumb across my aching nipple. I longed to be free of the bandeau, but there was no way to accomplish that, sitting as we were. I could only kiss him passionately, and I did.

Somehow, I got my left arm behind him and pivoted enough to allow my right hand to stroke his strong thigh. That only contented me for a moment, though, and soon I had reached higher. As I expected, he was hot and hard.

I smiled.

It was scarcely the first time I had held a man’s sex; I’d been attracted to men for as long as I had known myself to be female. Long-term relationships hadn’t worked well, but I’d had short relationships with gay men. And, in Jo Warnick’s hacienda, I had shared a bed with several other transwomen over the years. It wasn’t perfect, of course. The ones who were attracted to men, like I was, preferred masculine men; the ones attracted to women preferred cis women. But we were all lonely, and cared for each other, and sometimes that was enough to make it work.

This was different, though. I finally had the right body, and here with me was a masculine man who clearly found me as attractive as I found him. I slipped my hand inside his waistband, and wrapped my fingers slowly, teasingly, around his shaft.

His control over his breathing slipped, but I only felt his soundless gasp.

I squeezed. Gently. Playfully.

His head lowered and he nuzzled my neck with moist lips. But then he reached up and tapped my temple with his index finger. His other hand slowly detached from my breast. I could almost feel the reluctance.

I wanted to squeeze him again, this time from frustration. You want me to THINK?

We were in danger, and the danger hadn’t passed. So, yes, I needed to think. And, once I did, I understood. We could be interrupted on a second’s notice if any Sentinels showed up. Moreover, the configuration of our seats prevented me from going down on him, though I longed to do it. Absent that solution, anything I did to give him relief would create a mess we would just be stuck with for hours, until the all-clear sounded.

His finger stroked my cheek again, this time catching a frustrated tear that slipped from the corner of my eye.

With a silent sigh, I removed my hand from his swollen member, patting his stuff gently once my hand was back outside his pants. I captured his caressing finger and slipped it between my lips, applied suction and gave it a few slow pumps, just to make sure my meaning was unmistakable. But he was right, damn it all, so I released his finger and gave him another kiss, this one gentle. Resigned, even.

He kissed me back and we were still, my left arm around his shoulders, his right arm behind my back.

I closed my eyes – they weren’t accomplishing anything anyhow – and concentrated on my other senses. His breathing was again regular. I could feel his warmth. Smell his body. The excitement that mirrored my own, banked for now. I thought about the taste of his kiss.

I’m a woman! My God, I’m finally the woman I always wanted to be!!!

I was suddenly hit with the memory of a dream I had, many times over the years. Lying on my back, welcoming a lover. Drinking his kisses, thrilling to the feel of his hands on my tender breasts. Responding ardently to his fire deep inside me . . . . Seeing a face in the moonlight, strong and passionate. I can have that now. All of it!

The force of my waking dream made me begin to tremble all over again. But this time, I concentrated on my breathing, working to match Zephyr’s deep and slow rhythm. Breathing in . . . holding it . . . a long, long release . . . holding . . . a slow, steady inhalation . . . .

It took a while, but I got myself back where I needed to be. More time passed, and still more. But our foreplay had served its purpose. Had broken through the restraint we had both felt. Without a word having been spoken, we knew where we were heading.

And I smiled again, anticipating the moment when we could finish what we had started.

~o~O~o~

The four hours passed without incident. Again I felt Hermes’ presence before I heard his voice, quiet and calm. “Passive power only; let’s see what tactical will show us.”

Zephyr hit a couple of switches, and the tactical display came up, soft glowing green against the inky darkness. The feed came from both the ship’s sensors and the passive arrays they had put in place months before.

Nothing.

“Okay,” Hermes said thoughtfully. “Let me go get a couple drones in motion. Let’s take this slow.”

We left the tactical array up while Hermes went back to talk to the rest of the crew. The soft light was just enough to illuminate our features.

Zephyr gave me a rueful smile.

A couple minutes later Hermes returned to tell us that Dakota and Blake were each operating one of the ship’s recon drones, and we should be getting augmented readouts on tactical soon. He went back to the command center to monitor it.

Sure enough, tunnel after tunnel lit up on our display, as the drones ranged this way and that, looking for any sign of Sentinels. It was probably another hour before we were confident that the area was clear. We stationed the drones at strategic spots in the tunnel network and put them on passive. Finally, we went to full power and turned on the lights.

A squeak of surprise and a bit of fright escaped my lips, since the last Sentinel was still firmly attached to the front of the Belisarius. It was quickly apparent, however, that it had been disabled. The thing was inert and unmoving.

“We’re going to need to get it off manually,” Hermes announced over the intercom. “Everyone, take ten. Use the head, then let’s meet in the mess.”

The cockpit was so tight that we had to get out one at a time; Zephyr had me go first. Once out, I went down a short ladder at the back of the cabin to make room for Zephyr to get out of his seat. So, much as I wanted to wrap him in my arms and give him a proper kiss, I proceeded to the nearest head and did my business.

Ten minutes later, we were all gathered around the table in the mess. The feeling in the compartment was somehow both tense and relieved, like a locker room at half time, when the underdogs have survived but know that they’re nowhere near done.

Hermes was last to arrive, taking his place at the foot of the table. “Nice job as always, XO. Now. We’ll have to do some repairs. Once they’re done, we’re going to need to move again. Thoughts?”

Everyone looked to Zephyr, presumably because he was the first officer and it was his job to give the commander options.

“I think we need to abandon greater Chicago for now,” he said shortly. “The Sentinels will range, but they’ll be back in a couple of days.”

“Old Milwaukee?” asked Britt.

Zephyr shook his head. “I’d be happier with a bit more distance. Maybe the Detroit area. Or even Toronto.”

“I don’t suppose we could go home for a bit?” Blake asked wistfully.

Hermes shook his head. “Sorry, Blake,” he said gently. “We’re supposed to stay out for nine more months. So, not unless we can’t manage repairs.”

Kai offered, “I don’t think the back’s bad. I checked out the hold where the Sentinel started with the laser. We’ve got a breach, but it isn’t large. We can patch it.”

“Time estimate?” Hermes asked.

“Five or six hours, I expect.” Kai replied promptly.

“I’ll want to wait at least a day before we move anyway.” Hermes was smiling as he looked around. “Alright, everyone. Good job. Let’s get our repairs done, then get a rotation of rest in before we get moving. Dakota, I want you to deploy the cargo drone and start picking up our remotes. Zephyr, Noelle, survey the perimeter and set up security for the work team. Kai, Blake, and Britt, you’re on repairs. Abhaya, you've got monitoring duty. I’ll take the pilot’s seat.”

Zephyr and I put on headsets, head lamps, and weapons. I’d been checked out on the guns, which were some form of what we would have called an assault rifle back in the day. They were considerably more powerful, however.

Zephyr hit the necessary switches to open an exterior hatch and lower a ramp. It was the first time I had left the ship in my real body since they retrieved me, months before.

The air was dry and somehow smelled old, like a room that hadn’t been opened in a long while. We stepped down carefully, looking left and right. We knew from the tactical and visual displays that the space we were in was tight. The hole that we had ascended from the subway tunnel was about fifty yards away; a cinderblock wall had once separated it from the place where we had landed the Bel. But the wall was nothing but broken rubble.

Our footsteps sounded loud in the silence. We went forward first, checking out the area around the hole. After confirming that the only way into the space where we were located was the hole we had come up, we checked the walls on either side of the ship, and then the rear. There was only one door, located in the back.

I took the door, and Zephyr trotted forward to guard the area in front of the ship. Then we gave the green light to the repair team.

Kai’s estimate turned out to be a little bit optimistic. The Sentinel that was attached to the front of the ship had to be cut off with acetylene torches, tentacle by tentacle. Apparently there was no other damage to the front. In the rear, they had to cut a panel of steel, then weld and rivet it in place to cover the area where the Sentinel’s laser had cut the hull.

Zephyr joined me when the crew was wrapping up. “So . . . let’s just see what’s on the other side of this door before we all go turning in for the night,” he said.

I agreed; my imagination had enjoyed quite the field day wondering about that exact question all the hours that I had spent on guard. I was so tensed up that I was gripping my weapon, prepared to let loose, when he slowly opened the door.

A puff of even staler air greeted us, and we peered inside. “Some kind of warehouse?” I said dubiously. There were racks of shelves that went up maybe ten feet, in a room that was probably sixty feet long.

Zephyr spoke into his mike. “We’re going to check out the room back here before sealing it up, Captain.”

“Got it,” Hermes replied.

We stepped into the room, leaving the door open behind us and moved to the shelves. On closer inspection, they were full of bins. Looking to Zephyr, who nodded, I pulled one of the bins out and saw that it was filled with sealed clear plastic bags . . . .

I couldn’t help myself. I chuckled.

Zephyr bent close to look. His eyes widened and he joined my soft laughter.

“Son of a bitch,” I said.

“Well, not exactly.”

“I don’t suppose you have a training program on this?”

“On putting on a bra? Are you serious?”

“Well . . . I’ve never actually had anything to fill one with, you know.”

“I’m guessing that didn’t stop you, did it?” he teased.

“Ah . . . no. It didn’t.” I giggled. “You realize we may have found the world’s last supply of gen-u-ine lingerie!”

“Well, maybe not the last,” he corrected. “But without the vacuum packs, there’s no way the fabric would have lasted this long.”

“Zephyr . . . can we take some back? I’m not the only woman on the ship who’d appreciate something a bit more comfortable.” I tried to keep my voice from shading into a wheedling tone.

He grinned like a wolf. “I’m not the only man on board who might like to see his girl in something more sexy. Five minutes only, though. I’ll stand guard.”

Moving quickly, I checked a number of nearby bins and pulled several promising containers. Knowing that space was tight on the Bel, though, I only filled one small bin with packages, then brought it back to the door where Zephyr was standing guard.

Zephyr gave me a smile. “Finished your shopping in four minutes flat? What kind of a woman are you? And, will you marry me?”

I laughed, though I found myself blushing. “Come on, you. Let’s head back.” We closed the door behind us, and just to be certain, we had Britt slag the lock with an acetylene torch before we went back to the ship. On our way back, I paused at the collapsed heap of the overloaded Sentinel and kicked it. “Bastard.”

Hermes raised an eyebrow when he saw what we had brought back with us, but otherwise took it in stride. “Alright. Britt, Kai, Dakota, Noelle – you’ve got ten minutes to work out who gets what. Then I want everyone who isn’t on duty sleeping!”

Dividing the spoils wasn’t all that complicated. I was the smallest of the women overall, though Kai looked like she would be the same bra size, more or less. Britt was larger and Dakota was considerably better endowed. But there were a couple items for everyone, and I could tell that their spirits were lifted enormously. Even Kai, who was born into the hardscrabble life of the present century, wasn’t wired for virtual reality, and had never worn anything but homespun. “I’m gonna need some lessons,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. “But I can kind of see why you like them!”

To my annoyance, Zephyr had first watch, with Dakota, Blake and Kai. I trooped off to my bunk alone, but the day caught up with me and I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

~o~O~o~

Five hours later, I rose, stretched, and took a quick shower. After toweling off thoroughly, I went and got my treasures. Zephyr had been careful not to make fun; it really was completely frivolous. But after all the times I, as Noel, had worn a bra and panties, certain that I looked foolish but longing for them anyway, I was tearing up at the thought of seeing them on my perfectly female form.

My real body.

The lingerie was medium blue, nylon, and lightly trimmed in lace. I pulled the panties up my legs and marveled at how right they looked and felt. I slipped my arms through the bra straps and, with a practiced motion, reached behind and fastened the three hooks and eyes. I thought of Zephyr and snorted. Hell, yes, I knew how to put on a bra!

But I had less experience in getting the straps adjusted so that it held my breasts properly. I have breasts! I took my time on the new and wonderful problem, and got it fixed to my satisfaction. God, it feels wonderful!

I stood there a full minute, my arms crossed, my hands cupping my breasts inside their lace-lined cups, marveling at the sensation I thought I would never experience. Finally I shook my head, smiling, and finished getting dressed. I put my bandeau and homespun briefs into the bag with my spare clothes, all of which needed to be cleaned. A job for later.

I bumped into Britt on my way forward. “That’s one hell of a goofy grin you’re sporting,” she said with her own smile. Britt had claimed both of the sports bras, and she looked very pleased with her choice.

I let my grin get even wider. “Sometimes it’s the little things.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “That it is!”

I took over Matrix monitoring. Our tap wasn’t strong in this location; there was no way we could use it to enter the Matrix ourselves. But we were still picking up some data. My training on the software side had progressed rapidly and I was more than able to hold my own.

Some hours later, I was running a set of queries I had devised when I detected a message drop. We had certain standing programs always running, one of which identified attempted contacts by sources inside the Matrix – the sort of “ping” that had alerted Hermes that I was looking for him, months back.

I keyed the command station. “Hermes, it’s Noelle. Looks like we got a ping on one of our listening posts.”

“Identification?” He sounded only mildly interested.

“It looks like an encrypted information packet for you. The sender is identified as ‘Cassandra.’”

“Route it to me,” he said, sounding suddenly much more alert.

I sent the packet his way. When I didn’t hear anything further, I went back to work, picking up my prior queries.

At the end of the shift we had an all-hands meeting. Hermes got right to the point. “Zephyr, I know you’d prefer to get farther away, but Milwaukee will have to do for now. We need to get somewhere reasonably secure with a solid tap, and we need to do it fast.”

Zephyr looked unhappy. “If we have to, we have to. But it’s closer to the Great Lakes pod tower array than I’d like. Can I ask what changed?”

“We got a priority message. Cassandra wants to see Noelle.”

I bolted upright. “Huh?”

Hermes leaned forward. “Cassandra is our most important contact in the Matrix. She was the one who encouraged me to extract transgender adults . . . and she was the one who identified you as someone we should try to recruit.”

His words made no sense. “I don’t know a ‘Cassandra.’”

Hermes smiled. “But you do. You just know her as ‘Jo.’”

To be continued . . . .