Holiday
by DarkWolf
6253 words
Opening the door to her apartment, Susan threw down her briefcase and rushed to her desk. Work had run late and she was flustered as she sat down and cued up the terminal.
"AC657-W"
A monitor appeared in front of her, floating above the table. On the screen blinked an old style $hell prompt. The username displayed was cat:
Susan began typing, frantically. Searching. Scanning. It hardly mattered that there was no physical keyboard in front of her. She knew where the keys were. She knew what she wanted the machine to do. The colony was positively thick with nano machines that had no problem reading the degree of pressure exerted by her fingers. Reading it and translating it into thousands of electric signals that raced through the system. She often wondered what her employers were thinking, setting them up at work with real terminals, real keyboards, and real cpu's. It seems so past tense. None of it was necessary here. Sometimes she thought she was the only person who realized that. Well, one of the only people. At that thought a grin broke out across her face. And she found him.
cat: Tag
stealth: <dramatic sigh> You found me. <eg> Beginning to think you wouldn't come.
They were in one of the less used sectors of the system, well outside of any known chatting areas. The area was not so much "off limits" as invisible. If you didn't know where the door was, there was no helpful system bots pointing you toward it. Susan had found her way into the system five months earlier, experimenting with blank spots in the voice command codes: places where there were number gaps for no good reason. She had found dozens of helpful programs those first two months. Then she found the terminal. Then she had mostly hit a dead end. She knew there were a lot more programs hidden, but they all required clearance that she didn't have. But when she found the terminal she found stealth, and that had made everything else worth the disappointment.
cat: Yeah. Sorry. The slave drivers kept me late again. Glad you were still here, or the whole day would have been a bust.
stealth: :) I'm always here, Kitten. You know that.
He was too, Susan thought. Not once had she ever not found him online, though she did have to look harder some days than others. But he was always around somewhere. Always snooping into some data nook.
cat: Find anything interesting?
stealth: Always.
Susan stuck out her tongue at the monitor.
stealth: I saw that.
Susan pulled back in her tongue and stifled a laugh. He might have at that. She never was sure. One of the first things she realized upon meeting stealth was that he understood the system in ways she could only dream of. It was exhilarating, imagining what he might be able to make it do. The standard user could have the machines make food, redecorate, design new clothes... but she could also make her personal space adjust the scent of the air, relay what was being spoke in her neighbors' apartments, and shift the texture of any of her furniture until it was just so. How much more could he make the system do? How much more could he teach her?
stealth: So... Are you ready for Holiday?
Susan stared at the terminal confused.
cat: Ready for what?
stealth: Holiday. The whole colony celebrates it. You've only been here... eight months. This will be your first time with it.
cat: What is it? Parades and stuff?
stealth: <eg> Na. Most people just celebrate indoors. The big deal is that no one will expect you into work for the next week.
Week? A full week off with nothing to do. How much could she dig into the system in that time? She had been pushing for promotions at work with the sole goal of getting higher clearance, but had yet to have the time to really go poking around like she used to. She had jumped three ranks since the last time she began experimenting through the unlisted codes. What might she learn?
stealth: You still there?
cat: Just thinking.
stealth: Try not to think too hard about it. Trust me, you have never experienced anything like Holiday.
cat: LOL
stealth: I mean it. You might just find yourself overwhelmed.
Susan raised an eyebrow quizzically. Overwhelmed? They were talking about a week off, not a competition.
stealth: Seriously, Kitten. If it gets to be too much, invite me over.
Susan swallowed. He didn't... he didn't just say...
cat: You'll tell me how to get in touch with you? You'll tell me where you are?
stealth: :) So shocked? Don't be silly. But I'll tell you how to get word to me.
cat: :\
stealth: lol. Now pay attention.
stealth: If you ever REALLY need me, tell the computer INVITE ZERO ZERO ZERO ZERO ONE.
stealth: you got that?
Susan could hardly believe her luck. Was he that dense? With his user code she could find out his physical location no problem. He had admitted to wanting to stay hidden, but had instead given her that?
cat: Got it.
cat: So, am I supposed to believe you'll come this time? I've invited you over before...
stealth: <eg> Kitten, trust me. If you invite me over during Holiday, I'll come.
What was the evil grin for? Susan wondered.
They continued chatting for another hour before Susan declared herself exhausted and so signed off. She canceled the terminal and then stood up to stretch her legs. Could it really be that easy?
"Computer: Identify Location User 00001"
An automated female voice droned, "Invalid request."
She scrunched up her eyes in confusion. "That's odd..." Then she said, "Computer: Identify User 00001"
"Invalid command."
Maybe she had the command wrong? "Computer: Identify User 07375"
"User 07375: Susan Sullivan. Level four clearance: Colony processing. Female. Age 24. PhD Computer Programming. FFFF33 hair. 0000FF eyes. 162.5 centimeters height."
Susan smiled. No, she had the command right. So why...? "Computer: Identify User 00001"
"Invalid request."
"Error code: verbose."
"Error 005: No user found within designated parameters."
"List defined parameters."
"Searching all users with status of active. Searching all users with status of inactive."
Susan puzzled about the problem. He had to be in the colony somewhere. One of the terms a person had to sign to get into the colony was that they could never leave. That was part of why there were such strict regulations for who was allowed in. You didn't have to be rich, or know the right people, but you did have to be healthy, and above all, sufficiently genetically diverse from others already admitted. She nearly had not been let it. They already had twenty blondes, and thirteen people with her shade of blue eyes, but in the end her IQ had let her past the filters. The councilman giving her her final interview had been surprised. It seemed he had not realized that intelligence was one of the parameters they let people in by. She could have laughed. This was the most high tech city imaginable, so far beyond any technology in the rest of the world as to make it comical, and he had not realized they were scanning for intelligence? Instead, she had quietly listened to his speech, accepted her manual, and retired to her assigned apartment. Almost more hotel room than apartment. Don't mind me. I'm not worth noticing. I'll stay out of your hair; just let me into your hardware.
"Computer: Scan ALL users. Report Status of User 00001"
"User 00001 deactivated."
Deactivated? But.... "Record last modified?"
"Colony data: 357.22"
Almost one year after the colony started its calendar. That would be less than a week after it started admitting its first citizens. "Cause of deactivation."
"Deleted."
Susan sat down. This made no sense. The best she could think of for what "deactivated" meant was dead. But she had researched this colony for the first five years it was open before submitting her application. No deaths had ever been reported. And now the computer was referring to the user as though it was a program, not a user. "Cause listed on record for deactivation of User 00001?"
"Cardiac arrest. Pulmonary arrest."
That was clear enough. Heart attack, no longer breathing. "Computer: Identify Deactivated User 00001."
"Processing.... User 00001: Peter Jones. Level twenty clearance: Programmer. Male. Age 19. Education unlisted. 663300 hair. 003333 eyes. 167.6 centimeters height."
By all.... Programmer? THE Programmer? And level 20 clearance. The manual claimed that the council had full access to all of the system at level 15. Either they were lying, or they didn't know about the extra levels. Or... Either way, the system thought he was dead. He... Susan laughed. What was she getting so worked up about? So stealth gave her a fake ID. So what? Either it was a fake ID and she had no idea how to contact him, or it was a real ID and the system thought he was dead. Either way the command he gave her wouldn't work. It was no sweat to her. It just meant she had been stood up again. With a sigh she got herself ready for bed and set the lights to dim.
* * *
Susan woke up late. Worried that she would be late to work, she started calling to the computer. Then her heart skipped. She tried again.
"Computer?" Nothing.
"Computer: Reply." Nothing.
"AC002."
Susan cursed.
Of all the... This was supposed to be her holiday. Her time off. Of all the times for the system to stop responding. Climbing out of bed she walked toward the kitchen. It couldn't be helped. After breakfast she would go check in with repair and see how long it would take to get her apartment up and running again. She pushed on the kitchen door. She pushed again.
"No..." It was a whisper, almost a prayer. Shaking her head, Susan threw her full weight at the door. Nothing. No give whatsoever.
Fighting down her panic Susan began to check every other door or cabinet in the apartment. Closet, nothing. Bedside table, nothing. Front door, nothing. She jumped for joy upon discovering that the bathroom door had been left ajar during the night and so was not sealed shut. She was even happier to find out that its systems were on automatic, and so continued to function despite the lack of response from any other computer. After wetting down her face and hair, and other necessary tasks, she tried to pull her bedside table over to the door to serve as a stopper. No such luck. It was solidly anchored to the floor. Desperate, holding the door open, she glanced around the room for anything loose that she could toss in the way. With a sigh she acknowledged that she was a neat-nic. Her shoes, her clothes, everything had either been put away in its proper place last night, or recycled. She almost always had the computer assemble her clothes custom each day, same as it assembled her meals. The only thing she kept was her silk nightgown, that more for sentimental reasons than any other. She had brought it from outside and could not quite bear to have it disassembled atom by atom. The only other thing that she never changed was...
Cursing herself a fool, Susan dove for her briefcase from work. Just as the door swung to she shoved it into place. Safe. Just because the door had not clicked closed once did not mean it would repeat that trick. Now she did not need to worry. Did not need to worry about that. Sitting herself down on the bed, she began to wait. How long could it take for someone to come looking for her? Surely not days, even without her being expected at work. She refused to contemplate that she might never get out.
* * *
Two hours later Susan awoke to the sound of her front door opening. At first she thought one of the techs had discovered her problem and was coming to repair the issue on sight, but then she saw her visitor's face. Recognized him. Tried to remember his name. Johnson, that had been it. He was the council member who had interviewed her just before letting her in. Just under six feet tall, balding, thicker around the waist than she would have called health, but she was reminded, as she had been at their first meeting that no regulations required that you stay healthy once admitted to the colony. The leer on his face was unmistakable.
"I'm the first, am I? Oh good. I thought I might have to wait in line." Rubbing his hands together, Johnson closed the distance between them.
Susan's mind raced as she tried to put the bed between her and her unwanted guest. "What are you doing here, Councilman? These are private quarters. I'm going to have to ask you to leave."
Gracing her with a predatory smile, he said, "Private quarters? Haven't you heard? It's Holiday, Miss Sullivan." He circled around her bed.
Diving over the bed, Susan sprinted for the front door, which was still ajar. Over her shoulder she heard Johnson say, "Computer: Close entry door. Lock."
"Acknowledged."
Susan froze in shock. Watching her front door seal, her mind raced. No. No.... No! It wasn't that her apartment had stopped responding. Her apartment still worked. It had stopped responding to her. She stood there, dazed as Johnson rammed into her from behind, tackling her to the ground. Trying to crawl away from him, she called out, "Computer: Invite User 00001." Nothing. No reply. She had known there wouldn't be. She had tested it last night. Numb, she felt Johnson flip her over, pressing his face tight to hers, forcing his tongue into her mouth. Felt his hands being rubbed along her body. She was trapped. Trapped in a box with this repulsive... She was going to be sick. Laying there limply, feeling him start to slide her gown up around her waist, she knew she was going to be sick.
In a trance she heard her own voice saying, "Invite 00001."
Johnson was just starting to say, "Damn girl. Give it a re..." When the computer climbed in "Accepted."
"What the fuck?" Her assailant looked up at the ceiling, confused.
Susan held her breath. Accepted. She had recited it exactly as he had instructed, and it had work. No other commands were responding, but that nonsensical one had worked. She might get out of this. She might...
An arm came into view over Johnson body, pausing to tap him on the shoulder.
"Who the hell!' The large man spun around, tripping over his own legs as he tried to get off of her, tried to turn to face this new element.
A young man stood there. Older than the user file had suggested. He had aged over the five years since it stopped linking to him. Still, his brown hair looked well trimmed. His face was clean and freshly shaved. His clothing wore the wrinkles of familiar comfortable wear. His green eyes held a twinkle more mischievous than threatening. He smiled down at her and then turned his full attention to Johnson.
"Who the hell... This room is reserved. I..." Then he went pale. Eyes wide, he began shaking his head. "You. You can't be here. You're dead. I saw the body. I..." He was on his feet now, backing away from the man, backing away from Susan.
Silently, the young man walked after, walked up to him, leaned in next to him, where he was cornered, back to the door he had locked. Leaning in, he whispered into Johnson's ear, "Boo."
The door behind Johnson vanished, spilling him out into the hallway. He never stopped to turn around as he sprinted away.
Susan had pulled herself together enough to roll into a crouch, pulling her nightgown back into place, by the time he turned his attention back to her. Walking up to where she waited, he offered her a hand to stand.
Taking it, she said the only thing that came to mind. "Peter Jones, I presume?"
He smiled. Nodding to her, he replied, "Susan Sullivan."
She laughed. It was crazy. Absurd. She was safe. He was here. He was real. She was safe.
Peter motioned for her to take a seat. As he settled into her desk chair, that left her sitting on the bed. When she finally got her hysteria under control, she looked him in the eye and said, "You're real."
He nodded, "I'm real. I suspect you have some questions?"
Barely, she swallowed a new burst of laughed. Did she? "What's going on? Why did everything stop responding? Why..." Her mind drifted for a moment. "You knew it was going to stop responding. That's why you gave me that code."
Again, the mischievous grin on his face. "I did. I told you. It's Holiday."
"What is?" She asked, exasperated.
Peter raised his arms in a motion that encompassed the whole room. "This is. The malfunction. It happens yearly. For one week. Only to the women's apartments."
"You wrote this! You...!"
He raised his hands in mock defense. "Not by choice. I was under contract. Go ahead, tell me you never wrote a piece of code you thought was utterly stupid just because your boss insisted that it was required. Lie to me and tell me that."
Susan was silent. Of course she had. But this was different. This was... It was monstrous. It was...
"I got you out of it in time, didn't I?" The look on his face said he knew what she was thinking.
Silently, she nodded.
They sat there, in silence, facing each other, but not really looking at each other, as minutes ticked past. Finally, Susan asked, "Stealth, why are you here?"
Slowly his head turned to look at her. The look in his eyes made her shiver. It wasn't a threatening look, not exactly. It wasn't the look that Johnson had given her. She wasn't exactly sure what the look in his eyes meant. All she knew was that it was intense. His eyes held an intensity that she could not imagine the source of. Then he blinked, and it was gone. "Do I need a reason?"
Suddenly Susan's mouth was painfully dry. She nodded.
"You said you wanted to learn the codes. You wanted to learn what this system is capable of."
Susan's eyes went wide. "You're offering to teach me?"
He nodded, silently.
"And what? You're just going to tell me? After how long of me asking, begging, and you saying no, no, secrets must be kept. Now you expect me to believe you would just tell me?"
"Would you believe me if I just told you the commands?"
She laughed. "Not a chance."
He smiled. "I didn't think so." Rising from his chair, he began to pace, a half step away, then turning to approach. "I'm not going to tell you what this system is capable of, Kitten." He leaned in over her, looking deep into her eyes, hearing her heart race as she tried to catch her breath. "I'm going to show you." Then he stepped away from her. Stepped away and went back to his seat.
"What..." Susan stopped. She had begun to move as she spoke, but something didn't feel right. She tugged at her arm. She looked down, and paled. The bed, her lovely bed, had changed. She was still sitting on the mattress, firm as it had always been, but to her left and right, where her hands had been braced on the surface... The surface now came up to her wrists. She tugged at her wrists. It did not feel like the mattress had been sown over her wrists. It felt like the mattress had absorbed them, enveloped them, like it had turn to mud and they had sunk deep into it. "What did you do?" There was panic in her voice.
"You tell me."
A test. Her mind raced. That was all this was. A test. Pass it and he'll let you go. He isn't really threatening you. Think. She was silent for less than a minute. "You changed the texture of the mattress. Changed its permeability. Not all over, just along two clearly defined squares. After a point, you told it to stabilize again." She glared at him, daring him to deny it.
"Prove it."
She sighed with exasperation. "How am I supposed to prove anything? I didn't hear you say anything, and I have no way to check if the computer did either."
"Don't you?"
"You think I didn't check this morning? It stopped responding to anything I did, some time late last night."
He nodded, a condescending, smug, knowledgeable look on his face. "You checked it this morning. Before you invited me over."
"Yes, before..." She trailed off. Was it that simple? "Computer?" No reply. "Computer: respond." Think fool. "Computer: Identify users currently inside room 005349."
"User 07375."
Susan shot him a triumphant look. In response he nodded and motioned for her to continue.
"Computer: Identify last command issued by User 00001. Time stamp."
"AC552-X. 23:12 356 Colony date."
Susan's mind raced. AC was access computer. Five hundreds tended to be connected to food production. X denoted a complex series of patterns being linked. But that was all secondary to the date. Today was Colony Date 1994. That date stamp was the day before User 00001 was deleted. Of course. The computer only listed her as being in the room. He was under some sort of stealth screen. But the computer recognized his commands, so it must be seeing him somehow.
"Computer: List five commands last issued within Room 005349. Reverse."
"Identify. Identify. Restore. Accelerate. Define."
"Ha!" She laughed, daring him to deny it.
"How did I give the command? You said you didn't hear me."
She made a disappointed hmmph noise. "That's simple. Subvocalizing." Rolling her eyes, she did not notice that he had leaned in at her until she felt his lips upon hers.
The kiss was nothing like Johnson's. Warm and gentle, caressing rather than bruising. It made her heart race. Made it nearly impossible to think.
"You said you'd let me go if I told you how you did it." She sounded desperate. She could hear the pleading in her own voice.
Molding his frame tight to hers, he nuzzled at her neck. Gentle, tiny nibbles that made her heart skip. "When did I say that?"
"Please let me go."
His voice was deep, his intentions clear, as he said, "Make me." He molded his body to hers and began leaning against her, pushing her back on the bed, onto her back.
Susan fought to keep control of her thoughts despite panting. This was so unlike anything she had experienced before. So... but she wanted her hands free. She was trapped, and it seemed he was going to leave her trapped unless she did something. What could she do?
"Computer: Relay live audio from all apartment blocks. Full volume. Parallel."
The cacophony that followed was deafening. It was also processor intensive. Peter flinched as the noise began, but also the fibbers holding her hands relaxed. Pulling with all her might, she tore them free, kicking Peter away from her with the same fluid motion. Leaping off the bed and onto her feet, she laughed at him. "Ha!" Then she stood, waiting to see what he did next.
Her first thought was that she might have kicked him too hard. He was slow to uncurl, but when he did so, it was with a fluid grace that a cat would have envied. Coming to his full height, he flinched from the sounds.
"Computer: Cancel last command issued by user 07375."
The room fell silent. He began stalking toward her, forcing her to back up against the wall.
"Very well done, Kitten." His tone changed. "Computer: Revoke all privileges: User 07375."
Susan's heart skipped. He didn't... "Computer?" No reply. "Computer: Identify last command." Mute silence. "You bastard." The last comment was hissed. He was practically on top of her, arms on either side of her head.
"Guilty as charged."
Her mouth felt horribly dry. She thought she might faint if she didn't get her heart rate under control soon. "You cheated."
He gave her a puzzled look, but his eyes twinkled. "Tell me, how can I cheat, if I'm the one writing the rules?"
She swallowed. "Now what happens?"
She saw him begin to lean in towards her, and closed her eyes, assuming the inevitable. True to her suspicion, he kissed her, but it was a remarkably chaste kiss on the cheek. Then he pulled away from her.
"Now I believe we take a break for food. I suspect you are starving."
Puzzled, Susan opened her eyes to see him holding open the door to her kitchen. Mostly grateful for the reprieve, she following him in.
* * *
Lunch was steak, medium well, with a side of spinach and potatoes. Susan watched with ah while Peter prepared the food. The system could have easily made all of it, the same flavors, the same textures and nutrients, but he was cooking. When he sat the plate in from of her, it smelt wonderful. As he sat down across from her, he answered the unspoken question in her eyes.
"I don't get much chance to cook where I'm living. I missed it."
"You are alive then. You're not a ghost?" she asked around a bite full of steak.
"What do you think?" He seemed to relish the flavor of each bite.
"I think a ghost would not have had any reason to make a duplicate body to be found the day before it's user record was terminated."
Peter laughed. A full body roar. Then he looked Susan in the eyes. "That's what I like about you, Cat. You think. You really think." He motioned with his head back the way they had come. "That piece of work in there? Brilliant!"
Suddenly, Susan lost her appetite. Pushing away from her plate, she seemed to draw into herself, shriveling into a frightened ball. "Would you have really done it?" She asked, voice shaking.
Peter was suddenly somber again. "Done what, Susan?"
She swallowed. "What you started... Would you have finished? If I hadn't...." She couldn't look at him.
"Would you have wanted me to?" His voice held a thick purr. She was terrified of what she might see in his eyes.
"That... That's irrelevant. I was trapped. I couldn't fight. You would have..." She felt his hand placed over hers. Calm. Reassuring.
"I won't hurt you, Susan. You can trust me."
She swallowed, willing her breath to become steady. Willing her heart to return to its normal beat. "Why should I trust you?"
His hand squeezed hers. Comforting. "Because I care about you. You constantly amaze me. I don't want to see you hurt."
She wanted to believe him. She desperately wanted to believe him. She could feel tears forming at the edge of her eyes; she wanted so desperately to trust what he said.
With his free hand he reached across and wiped away her tear. Lightly, he asked, "Let's change topics for a while, shall we? Something a little less heavy?"
She swallowed, and nodded.
"Why do you want to learn all of the commands for this system?"
She stared at him, in a single moment having gone from fragile to agape. "Why wouldn't I?"
He smiled. "Okay. We'll back up. What made you think that you didn't already know all of the codes for the system?"
She wasted no time thinking about how to phrase her answer. "Don't be ridiculous. We are talking about nanites here. Microscopic machines. They build things with atoms. The manuals they give to the new arrivals are all in terms that any computer could do. No finesse. How could there not be thousand of other commands, particular to the style of machines being controlled?"
Peer nodded. "Do you know what the first thing they told me to do was? The first thing they asked me to program? They said, here, take our high tech, tiny machines and have them build a giant complex. They are self replicating. You can have as many as you need. Have them build a giant complex. And once they build it, make it so that we can have them change it on a whim. That's not exactly what they said, but that was the meat of it."
She looked at him, aghast. "They what? But..." She was silent for a moment. "With an infinite number of nanites, why bother building anything? They're microscopic for Pete's sake. Just...." She trailed off, light dawning in her eyes. "My god. You didn't."
He nodded, smiling.
"All of it? The whole complex?" Again he nodded. She laughed. "There wouldn't need to be a solid wall in the entire place. It's all programming telling the nanites where to stand, where to supply resistance. It's all..." She faded off into silence.
Peter continued to smile. "I thought you would be able to appreciate it. You're the only other person who does."
"It's amazing. It's..."
"You haven't begun to imagine the half of it. Let me show you."
Dazed by the wonder of potential discovery, she let him take her hand, let him lead her back out of the kitchen, into the living area. Into the bedroom.
* * *
It took Susan a moment to realize what was happening. Peter was explaining about how the nanites were not limited to the solid spaces within the colony, about how even the air was thick with them. She barely noticed. She was too focused on her arm. Her arm had begun rising above her head. She stopped, focusing on forcing her arm down to her side. Instead, as soon as she stopped, the process was accelerated. Suddenly both of her arms were above her head, wrists crossing. Then she felt her feet lifting off of the floor. She began to kick and squirm. "Hey!"
Peter turned around then. The smile across his face made it clear that this was his doing. "As I was saying. They are everywhere. They are in the very air we breathe, so small that they could pass through cell walls, if told to. Just because the you can't see them does not mean there are not enough around to effect you." He began walking toward her.
Susan kicked, not so much at him, as in his general direction. She was not trying to aim, merely to knock herself loose. It was not working.
"The fact that you can see the walls, the furniture, is merely a trick of the light. If the nanites that held you now put up a different filter, you would see them just as easily."
He was within inches of her now. She realized suddenly, what with how she was hanging, that his feet could not be touching the ground.
"Or not see them." He vanished.
"Peter? Stealth! This isn't funny. I get the point. I..." She gasped as she felt his hand settle onto her left breast. Pinching, rubbing, massaging.
A shiver ran along her body. She could feel her heart beat picking up. Her voice was frightened as she asked, "Peter?" She was not sure if she was afraid of what he might do, or of how she might respond.
"Hmmm?" It was a purr, full of male confidence. As he said it, she felt him begin to work at her other breast. Just as tenderly. Just as thorough. He had never stopped with the first breast.
"I... I..." She moaned aloud. Panting, trying to catch her breath, she tried again. "You said I could trust you."
"You can trust me." The voice came from behind her. She could feel his breath warm against her neck. She could feel his teeth lightly grazing against her skin.
"You said you wouldn't hurt me."
She felt his tongue lick upwards, along her neck. "Does this hurt?"
By all that was... No. No it didn't hurt, but... She tried to remember how to think. She could feel his hands, feel his fingers, rubbing against her breasts, feel his lips hot against her neck. She had to make him stop. If she didn't ask him to stop now, she might not be able to. "Please..."
She felt his breath slide lower along her back. Around her. Very gently she felt him touch her sex. She cried out, not certain if she was calling for him to stop, or to go faster. Gentle strokes, steady and calm, meant to drive her over the edge. Strokes just as steady as those still being applied to her breasts, just as steady as the nibbling and licking at her neck. If she had been in her right mind she might have realized how impossible it was, but it took all of her effort to remember that she wanted him to let her go. She couldn't even remember why, but again she tried to ask. "Please... Please..." She gasped. "Please let me down. Please let me go."
His voice was barely comprehensible through the fog of sensation she was drowning in. "Do you know what would happen if I let you go, Susan? Do you, yet, understand what Holiday is? Last night a roster began circulating. For one hour any male could sign it. No one knew how many names were before them. No one knew how many names came after. At the end of the hour your roster held forty names. Forty."
Susan shivered. She heart was pounding. Her breathing was coming as pants. Why didn't he hurry? Why was he going so slowly? With effort she reminded herself that she wanted him to stop. His voice droned on.
"For the next seven days, your quarters will only respond to the orders of whoever's name is next on the list. Each man will stay as long as he likes. Each man will leave you in whatever condition he sees fit. Perhaps the week will end before all forty have the privilege of your audience, or perhaps not. But either way, it would be man after man after man. As much as you would want them to leave, the only way you would get any food, any water, would be at their mercy."
Tears were running down her face, the strain of trying to hear what he was saying warring with her own bodies desperate need for release. "Please."
"Do you really want me to leave? Right now I have removed your room from the system entirely, but I can't put you back in control of it. Even my best intentions would leave your permissions crippled for the next week."
"Please." Her voice was desperate.
"Please, what?"
Her body shook with the effort to form words. "Please... Please let me.... Please... please... why are you going so slowly?"
Suddenly she could see him, sitting on the bed, watching her as she writhed above the floor. Watching her, and yet she could still feel him. Feel his hands on her breasts, feel his fingers stroking her nethers, feel his breath along her neck. Through a fog she heard him say, "I haven't laid a hand on you for the last five minutes." He smiled. "You wanted to know what the nanites were capable of."
The orgasm overtook her then, wave upon wave ripping through her body. It was mind numbing. It was amazing. The idea of it, mingled with the sensations pushed her so much farther than she had ever imagined she could go. It lasted hours. It lasted an eternity. She knew it could not have lasted more than a handful of minutes.
Yet when she came to, when she came back to herself, she was no longer hanging by her wrists in the air. She was lying across her bed. Peter was leaning over her, not yet on top of her, but looking into her eyes. "Do you still want me to leave? Or do you want to learn what else they can do?"
There was no hesitation in her voice as she replied, "Teach me."