The Rhoedraegon Chronicles: Book Two. Paul Sr. Alcorn
Читать онлайн книгу.
expertise of the Skeelar clan, they were now able to move at virtually any height right up to the edge of space. Low orbits were well within their capabilities, thought it was discouraged and tightly regulated.
From their vantage point at nearly twenty miles altitude, the landscape below
Was a mottle of colors with few distinguishable landmarks, and though Archer was temporarily fascinated, Mathew had seen it so often in the past that he didn’t even bother to look, other than in response to some excited comment by his companion. Eventually, the novelty wore off for Archer as well, and they settled into an uncomfortable silence. At length, Archer asked, .Why are we going to this plant of yours, Mathew?”
“I have to rebuild a storage facility there. It was recently destroyed.”
“Oh,” she said and stared at him blankly. Her tone brought Mathew out of his thoughts and into the present.
“You see, the plant produces units that are designed to create buildings; houses, factories, office facilities, even military bunkers and so forth. It’s the technology that the House of Rhoedraegon holds the patents on. It’s our exclusive industry. We supply the entire Empire with these bots to build structures of all kinds. Our storage depot for finished units was destroyed and we need to reprogram several bots to build a new one. Unfortunately, I can do it faster than anyone else, and time is of the essence.”
So you just need to do some reprogramming?” she asked.
“That’s it. It should take no more than a few days, and then we can travel a bit around the continent, see the sights.”
“But why don’t you just do it from your office and send the programs?”
Mathew looked over at her, appreciating her quick mind. “Normally I would, but this is a bit tricky for what we’re doing, and I need to be on hand to make corrections as we go. The bots can be cantankerous if they’re not properly programmed.
“My father used to say that if a program works perfectly the first time you try it, you either missed something or it’s useless,” Archer said almost to herself.
Mathew laughed. “Your father was a very wise man.”
“Do you always take your mistresses along with you when you travel on business?
He looked at her, confused by his own anger, which he hid badly.
“I’m sorry. Was that indelicate of me?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Sorry. I over reacted, I’m afraid. It’s just that I’ve never had mistresses to take anywhere, nor have I wanted any. That’s Helson’s stock and trade. Also, I want you to know that, you’re not my mistress. You are someone I want very much to spend my time with, to share my world with, but you are not my mistress. There are no requirements put on you at all.”
“I…I know,” she said, her eyes beginning to glisten with tears. “It’s hard for me to remember. I forget I’m not your property.”
Shamreel slid down to the floor from his place beside Mathew and hopped up beside Archer. She nudged her elbow with his head, demanding that she move it, and then she nestled against her side, cooing plaintively. Archer reached down, draping her arm across Shamreel’s bulbous body and caressed her without even thinking about it. This was the only person other than himself that Mathew had ever known Shamreel to show such affection toward.
Damn Helson, he thought to himself. Damn the man!
“I feel like I’m damaged, like I’m damaged property, like a discarded broken toy or something that’s been handed down to a younger brother who appreciates it. It’s nice for you to have the toy, but it’s not as good as a new one.”
For a moment, Mathew didn’t know what to say. He felt like reaching out and bundling her in his arms to make the hurt go away, but he sensed that it wasn’t the thing to do right now. Besides, there was no way he could make this hurt go away. Archer would have to do that. He wished his brother Marcus was here now. He’d know what to do.
“You’re not damaged goods, Archer. I could never see you that way.”
“I was another man’s whore!” she snapped.
“You were raped.”
“But I didn’t stop him!”
“You slept with him willingly?”
“I…I must have.”
“I don’t understand. What do you mean you must have?”
Archer’s pain was evident and Mathew could see that it was excruciating.
“I kept waking up in bed with him every morning. I must have blocked out what I did during the night. I must be hiding from my own willingness to sleep with him. It’s the only explanation.”
“Really?” Mathew said. “You don’t see any other possibilities?”
“What other explanation could there be!” she snapped again.
“You had wine with dinner,” he said. It was a statement, not a question.
“Um, yes.”
“Every night you had wine, and it was a Martian vintage.”
“Always. Helson insisted.”
“You were drugged.”
She stared at him blankly, his words never reaching her through the filters of her own condemnation.
“You were given a Martian wine from the Carllotti vineyards in the Terra Maridani, region along the equator. The substance is an aphrodisiac and a hallucinogen. You become immediately sexually aroused and lose total volitional control of your actions. It also operates as an amnesiac, blocking all conscious memory of your actions for a period of about nine hours. It is an outlawed substance, totally illegal, and the only access is through illegal channels, and then only if you are a Noble. To my knowledge, my dear brother has the only supply on Terra. Mostly you find it in the pleasure shops on the outer colonies. Archer, you are absolutely without blame for what happened, no matter what Helson may have told you.”
Archer’s eyes blinked, almost fluttering as she tried to process the information. “Are you sure, Mathew? Is that true?”
“Comm,” Mathew said.
“Yes, My Lord?” answered a disembodied voice.
“Display all information on Carllotti wine.”
A holo appeared in mid air between them, showing a scrolling mass of information. It went on for several minutes.
“Comm, display a summary only.”
The image disappeared and a single document appeared. Archer read it several times and leaned back in her chair, slump shouldered and suddenly exhausted.
“Done,’ said Mathew, and the image disappeared.
“You’ve been molested, Archer. You’ve been abused and you’ve been sexually assaulted, but to say you’re damaged goods is wrong. You have done nothing to be ashamed of.”
“I hate that man,” she whispered quietly. There was fierceness in her voice that actually frightened Mathew. If Helson had been present there was no doubt that she would try to kill him on the spot.
“You have reason to hate him,” he said almost in a whisper.
Archer drew her feet up under her, folding her legs to the left. Mathew reached out and touched her hand but she withdrew it, folding her arms and slipping her hands under her armpits. She stared at the floor once again on the verge of tears. Shamreel moved a few inches away from her, as if sensing her need for solitude, but continued to make small whimpering noises from time to time, looking up at her attentively.
Mathew sat opposite her, watching her in silence, careful to not disturb her yet very aware of her mood. In moments, she fell asleep, and he thought of her going unconscious