HARD REBOOT
Sep. 30th, 2012 06:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
valarltdA work-safe excerpt from Caitlin's first night at home
He went to the bedroom and called his brother. Caitlin remained where she was, awaiting his pleasure or further instructions. As he left, he saw her do a sexy, subtle shift of her hips. He stepped a little quicker and thought about cold and grim things while waiting through the connection.
Niall answered. The video pickup showed a strange bedroom and the back of a sculpted bronze shoulder draped in curly black hair. Sean knew at once where Niall was. He'd never wanted to see that much of Gemini naked.
"Shh," he whispered. "Keep it down. Ariel had a rough day." He caressed the golden shoulder and picked up his phone to leave the room.
"You're still fucking Gemini?" Sean asked sotto voce, not sure if he was pleased Niall was enjoying himself, or horrified at the situation. The last thing Niall needed was an alpha male like Gemini taking over his life so soon after being forced to sub for the Wheelman.
"Yeah. Whatcha need?" Niall settled in on a comfortable-looking couch in a living room Sean had never seen. The wood-look paneling, surely it couldn't be the real thing, and wallpaper were several steps up from the generic pinkish-tan walls of Niall's usual apartments.
Sean decided to be blunt about it. "I'm going to get Caitlin back into the Net. She's been without a jack for two years, so you see the problem. I'm not even sure she remembers how to run."
"You're not much of a runner, so you want me to play seeing-eye werewolf to your double-x?"
Sean winced at the standard NeoAugustinian term for a woman. His brother's religion, which claimed women were at best soulless and more likely demonic, struck him as an excuse to make a sacrament out of gay sex. He hated that attitude, even as much as he loved Niall.
"Got it in one. Meet us at the Zocalo day after tomorrow at eight."
"That's fine. Ariel will be off to work by then. He doesn't like me to run when he's home." Niall grinned sheepishly. "I think he worries the Wheelman is going to hunt me down and grab me, like a big bad bogeyman."
Again with Ariel. Sean didn't roll his eyes. He wasn't sure he liked the man and he definitely did not like the amount of meddling Gemini was doing in his life and his family. Working for him as a freelancer was fine, but now, the man was seeing Niall and calling all the shots about Caitlin. Sean hated the feeling of being owned, but he owed Gemini enough to know that he was bought and paid for, just as much as Caitlin.
"Fuck. You're living with him now? What about Zara?" Niall's faith did not allow him to live in the same home as a woman. And he would embarrass Gemini anyway, since all knew the Technomancer and Gemini were an exclusive item, both in and out of the Net. They had been for nearly two years. They attended all the best functions together and celebrity pics of them in public were everywhere on the Net. She had replaced Gemini's usual run of models, holoactresses, and other beauties. Rumors of a secret wedding, either in planning stages or already executed, abounded, suitable for their wealth and eccentric ways. These days only the very religious or very dynastic bothered with marriage. Caitlin had fallen into the former category.
Sean had seen several of the girls in the neighborhood wearing the Technomancer's straight, Cleopatra-like haircut. He'd seen at least one girl, probably about seventeen, wearing a Gemini-like cut and fake goatee with her girlfriend sporting the Technomancer's look as they leaned against a motorbike, smoking cigarettes. He wondered if their Net avatars looked like their idols as well.
"Zara doesn't live under this particular roof, just me. You'll have to come see my apartment. Night." Niall clicked off, leaving Sean with more to consider.
Gemini. Everywhere he turned, that smug bastard's fingerprints were on his life. And Niall acting like a smitten teenager wasn't going to help at all. He sighed. The Wheelman had traumatized his brother, damaging him on some deep level, by holding him for months and coercing him into sex with the threat of amputation and eternal slavery. Now, Niall's overdeveloped sense of gratitude made him Gemini's dog, a submissive puppy willing to tuck tail at the first threat or show belly and lick the hand of any man who treated him with kindness.
Sean considered having a long talk with his brother about all this. But he didn't have the words. Neither of them did. Niall was well-spoken but when it came to himself, he really didn't think in words. Sean didn't think in computer images like his brother did, but his mouth always got thick when he wasn't playing a part or talking business. Feelings, history, and especially sex were right off the conversation list. Talking about those was a challenge akin to stacking marbles.
He came out of the bedroom to see Caitlin hadn't moved. She had to be getting uncomfortable in the position, but she held it. He stroked her hair as he passed. She arched into his hand for more.
"Tomorrow, we get you fitted for a jack. Tonight, cook. It's suppertime. Everything's pretty much the same as it was before." Sean settled himself on the couch to do a little networking. "We're out of everything but soyamix. We'll hit the grocery tomorrow. And I don't like the chicken a la king, it has a funny aftertaste."
She rose gracefully from her knees and walked into the kitchen, a sensual sway in her hips that had never been there before. Absorbed in watching her lovely back, he almost missed the fact that she gave wide berth to her old lounger and Net station. It struck him that those were the belongings of Caitlin McLean, the Irishgirl. They had no relevance to a slave, except as more work. They would be part of her cleaning duties and, at his command, she would have to use them to run as well.
She clearly dreaded that part of her new life here, with good reason. The Net was a minefield for even practiced runners, and Irishgirl had been off the grid for far, far too long. Not everything had changed, but enough had that the familiar would be more trap than help, like a faded signpost in an overgrown forest. There were drawbacks to being a living legend, namely outliving her legend. She'd be returning to the web as a rank amateur. Nonetheless, she would obey her master, even to her peril, so that her actions might please him. She could not do otherwise now. Her training would not allow it. He hated knowing that.
Sean checked his mail, confirmed the appointment with the slicer, and generally puttered as much as he could without actually jacking in. He didn't work much anymore. The time spent in the hospital, with visits and Net-access tightly controlled, had cost him most of his contacts. Caitlin was his job now, and he was as much at sea as she was, although he couldn't let anyone know that.
He listened to her in the kitchen, doubting she was quite ready to have him watch her. By now, she had discovered the new synth he'd bought with some of Gemini's money, with its midrange flavor suite that could produce anything from chicken chow mein to beef stew. Steak and lobster were for higher levels, but at least it had a suite. One of Caitlin's old places had simply had the synth, and they'd eaten plain soyamix, which was about as interesting as eating pizza-shaped wallboard, for three weeks.
Even as she cooked, she was nearly silent. It was unsettling, like having a ghost in the apartment. It struck him that she really was a ghost, a pale reflection of the Caitlin who used to share his life, living, laughing, and planning for the future together. His slave girl now haunted the places Caitlin had once occupied, but she was not Caitlin. She had no thought for anything but the present day and the task at hand, since the future was a matter for free people, real people who actually mattered.
If nothing else, her cooking had improved. His Caitlin was an indifferent cook at best, preferring to eat nutribars or whatever easily came to hand while she worked. He'd cooked for her, as often as not, and take-out had been common in their courtship and short marriage. He smiled, remembering their first date when he'd brought her Thai noodles and they'd fed the ducks in The Enclosure.
She'd laughed there amid the real plants, her voice bells and birds and falling rain, her short hair gleaming under the fake sun of the geodesic sky as she tossed her head back. He'd known then she was much more than an assignment. He wanted her. He'd wanted to make her laugh, to kiss her, to see her smile just for him and not merely at the silly antics of the ducks.
Now, as the apartment filled with good smells, he wondered if he'd ever see her laugh like that again. He set his jaw and closed his phone. That was his job. Gemini was paying him handsomely to get Caitlin back to herself, to teach her the Net, to make her laugh again, to love her. On top of that, Technomancer was watching as well, expecting much the same, but with her own personal agenda. Sean sat and pondered his divided loyalties.
He glanced at the wall niche where statues of St. Isidore of Seville, patron saint of the Net, and St. Dismas, the patron of thieves, stood. They couldn't help the situation. For a mad moment he wondered if anyone made statues of Judas Iscariot, the ultimate patron of divided loyalties, but put that out of his head and returned to studying St. Isidore's placid lines and the book the saint held. He wondered if he should add St. Jude or St. Dymphna to the niche. Either would work, because Caitlin was as lost a cause as he'd ever seen, and he had a lot of mental work to overcome. He'd look for one, and some candles. He suspected it would take a lot more than mere candles and saints to get his girl back.
Lost in thought, Sean barely noticed when she prostrated herself at his feet to let him know the food was ready.
He went to the bedroom and called his brother. Caitlin remained where she was, awaiting his pleasure or further instructions. As he left, he saw her do a sexy, subtle shift of her hips. He stepped a little quicker and thought about cold and grim things while waiting through the connection.
Niall answered. The video pickup showed a strange bedroom and the back of a sculpted bronze shoulder draped in curly black hair. Sean knew at once where Niall was. He'd never wanted to see that much of Gemini naked.
"Shh," he whispered. "Keep it down. Ariel had a rough day." He caressed the golden shoulder and picked up his phone to leave the room.
"You're still fucking Gemini?" Sean asked sotto voce, not sure if he was pleased Niall was enjoying himself, or horrified at the situation. The last thing Niall needed was an alpha male like Gemini taking over his life so soon after being forced to sub for the Wheelman.
"Yeah. Whatcha need?" Niall settled in on a comfortable-looking couch in a living room Sean had never seen. The wood-look paneling, surely it couldn't be the real thing, and wallpaper were several steps up from the generic pinkish-tan walls of Niall's usual apartments.
Sean decided to be blunt about it. "I'm going to get Caitlin back into the Net. She's been without a jack for two years, so you see the problem. I'm not even sure she remembers how to run."
"You're not much of a runner, so you want me to play seeing-eye werewolf to your double-x?"
Sean winced at the standard NeoAugustinian term for a woman. His brother's religion, which claimed women were at best soulless and more likely demonic, struck him as an excuse to make a sacrament out of gay sex. He hated that attitude, even as much as he loved Niall.
"Got it in one. Meet us at the Zocalo day after tomorrow at eight."
"That's fine. Ariel will be off to work by then. He doesn't like me to run when he's home." Niall grinned sheepishly. "I think he worries the Wheelman is going to hunt me down and grab me, like a big bad bogeyman."
Again with Ariel. Sean didn't roll his eyes. He wasn't sure he liked the man and he definitely did not like the amount of meddling Gemini was doing in his life and his family. Working for him as a freelancer was fine, but now, the man was seeing Niall and calling all the shots about Caitlin. Sean hated the feeling of being owned, but he owed Gemini enough to know that he was bought and paid for, just as much as Caitlin.
"Fuck. You're living with him now? What about Zara?" Niall's faith did not allow him to live in the same home as a woman. And he would embarrass Gemini anyway, since all knew the Technomancer and Gemini were an exclusive item, both in and out of the Net. They had been for nearly two years. They attended all the best functions together and celebrity pics of them in public were everywhere on the Net. She had replaced Gemini's usual run of models, holoactresses, and other beauties. Rumors of a secret wedding, either in planning stages or already executed, abounded, suitable for their wealth and eccentric ways. These days only the very religious or very dynastic bothered with marriage. Caitlin had fallen into the former category.
Sean had seen several of the girls in the neighborhood wearing the Technomancer's straight, Cleopatra-like haircut. He'd seen at least one girl, probably about seventeen, wearing a Gemini-like cut and fake goatee with her girlfriend sporting the Technomancer's look as they leaned against a motorbike, smoking cigarettes. He wondered if their Net avatars looked like their idols as well.
"Zara doesn't live under this particular roof, just me. You'll have to come see my apartment. Night." Niall clicked off, leaving Sean with more to consider.
Gemini. Everywhere he turned, that smug bastard's fingerprints were on his life. And Niall acting like a smitten teenager wasn't going to help at all. He sighed. The Wheelman had traumatized his brother, damaging him on some deep level, by holding him for months and coercing him into sex with the threat of amputation and eternal slavery. Now, Niall's overdeveloped sense of gratitude made him Gemini's dog, a submissive puppy willing to tuck tail at the first threat or show belly and lick the hand of any man who treated him with kindness.
Sean considered having a long talk with his brother about all this. But he didn't have the words. Neither of them did. Niall was well-spoken but when it came to himself, he really didn't think in words. Sean didn't think in computer images like his brother did, but his mouth always got thick when he wasn't playing a part or talking business. Feelings, history, and especially sex were right off the conversation list. Talking about those was a challenge akin to stacking marbles.
He came out of the bedroom to see Caitlin hadn't moved. She had to be getting uncomfortable in the position, but she held it. He stroked her hair as he passed. She arched into his hand for more.
"Tomorrow, we get you fitted for a jack. Tonight, cook. It's suppertime. Everything's pretty much the same as it was before." Sean settled himself on the couch to do a little networking. "We're out of everything but soyamix. We'll hit the grocery tomorrow. And I don't like the chicken a la king, it has a funny aftertaste."
She rose gracefully from her knees and walked into the kitchen, a sensual sway in her hips that had never been there before. Absorbed in watching her lovely back, he almost missed the fact that she gave wide berth to her old lounger and Net station. It struck him that those were the belongings of Caitlin McLean, the Irishgirl. They had no relevance to a slave, except as more work. They would be part of her cleaning duties and, at his command, she would have to use them to run as well.
She clearly dreaded that part of her new life here, with good reason. The Net was a minefield for even practiced runners, and Irishgirl had been off the grid for far, far too long. Not everything had changed, but enough had that the familiar would be more trap than help, like a faded signpost in an overgrown forest. There were drawbacks to being a living legend, namely outliving her legend. She'd be returning to the web as a rank amateur. Nonetheless, she would obey her master, even to her peril, so that her actions might please him. She could not do otherwise now. Her training would not allow it. He hated knowing that.
Sean checked his mail, confirmed the appointment with the slicer, and generally puttered as much as he could without actually jacking in. He didn't work much anymore. The time spent in the hospital, with visits and Net-access tightly controlled, had cost him most of his contacts. Caitlin was his job now, and he was as much at sea as she was, although he couldn't let anyone know that.
He listened to her in the kitchen, doubting she was quite ready to have him watch her. By now, she had discovered the new synth he'd bought with some of Gemini's money, with its midrange flavor suite that could produce anything from chicken chow mein to beef stew. Steak and lobster were for higher levels, but at least it had a suite. One of Caitlin's old places had simply had the synth, and they'd eaten plain soyamix, which was about as interesting as eating pizza-shaped wallboard, for three weeks.
Even as she cooked, she was nearly silent. It was unsettling, like having a ghost in the apartment. It struck him that she really was a ghost, a pale reflection of the Caitlin who used to share his life, living, laughing, and planning for the future together. His slave girl now haunted the places Caitlin had once occupied, but she was not Caitlin. She had no thought for anything but the present day and the task at hand, since the future was a matter for free people, real people who actually mattered.
If nothing else, her cooking had improved. His Caitlin was an indifferent cook at best, preferring to eat nutribars or whatever easily came to hand while she worked. He'd cooked for her, as often as not, and take-out had been common in their courtship and short marriage. He smiled, remembering their first date when he'd brought her Thai noodles and they'd fed the ducks in The Enclosure.
She'd laughed there amid the real plants, her voice bells and birds and falling rain, her short hair gleaming under the fake sun of the geodesic sky as she tossed her head back. He'd known then she was much more than an assignment. He wanted her. He'd wanted to make her laugh, to kiss her, to see her smile just for him and not merely at the silly antics of the ducks.
Now, as the apartment filled with good smells, he wondered if he'd ever see her laugh like that again. He set his jaw and closed his phone. That was his job. Gemini was paying him handsomely to get Caitlin back to herself, to teach her the Net, to make her laugh again, to love her. On top of that, Technomancer was watching as well, expecting much the same, but with her own personal agenda. Sean sat and pondered his divided loyalties.
He glanced at the wall niche where statues of St. Isidore of Seville, patron saint of the Net, and St. Dismas, the patron of thieves, stood. They couldn't help the situation. For a mad moment he wondered if anyone made statues of Judas Iscariot, the ultimate patron of divided loyalties, but put that out of his head and returned to studying St. Isidore's placid lines and the book the saint held. He wondered if he should add St. Jude or St. Dymphna to the niche. Either would work, because Caitlin was as lost a cause as he'd ever seen, and he had a lot of mental work to overcome. He'd look for one, and some candles. He suspected it would take a lot more than mere candles and saints to get his girl back.
Lost in thought, Sean barely noticed when she prostrated herself at his feet to let him know the food was ready.
