A Concubine Jockey is a driver or pilot, our Girls in Brown. I was on my way to operations when I spotted a golem with the limp form of our pilot draped over his shoulder. I ducked around a corner hoping the golem paid me no heed. I peeked and watched the soulless thing carry my sister into a chamber. I touched the side of my goggles-communicator and excitedly whispered, “Alert! Alert! The golems are hostile!”
The voice of my Priestess hailed, “Report.”
I reported, “I witnessed a golem carrying our incapacitated pilot into a chamber on the second floor.”
“Is she dead?”
“I don’t know.”
My Priestess sounded for all to hear, “Alert! Alert! Initiate Sudden Threat Protocol!” The protocol meant Keepers were to hide and activate the beacon function of our communicators. We were to await being found and escorted to safety by Sentinels. I went to hide in a storage closet… and found the piled bodies of our Sentinels!
My feelings overwhelmed my thoughts. I know I ran. I know I barely escaped the clutches of a golem. I climbed a ladder and exited a hatch out onto the roof. I waited but the golem did not come after me.
I touched the side of my goggles-communicator and hailed, “This is Fairuza Blue, over.” No one responded. I tried, “Fairuza Blue to Zendanna Purple.” My Priestess did not respond. I panicked, “Is anyone out there?! Anyone, please respond!” No one answered me. I trembled and wept.
I deactivated my homing beacon and roamed the rooftops. I spotted golems below and was pleased to find them tending their routines rather than scouring the area for me.
The voice of my Priestess hailed, “Fairuza Blue, where did you put the barrier field data?” I could feel the silent name of my sister in her voice but the feeling chilled me.
I answered warily, “I’ll bring the data with me when we’re ready to depart.”
“Where is it?”
“Ma’am, I found the bodies of most if not all of our Sentinels.”
“Yes, they are all dead.”
“Ma’am, are you dead?” My Priestess did not answer me.
I am a mystical physicist. I deduced that the lifeless body of my sister was awakened and made to question me. Whatever the malevolence it was capable of necromancy.
I felt alone. I was as terrified by the loneliness as I was the immediate danger. I realized that our prized data was sought by whatever was against us. I surmised that my satchel and its invaluable content had not been found.
I had not cleverly hidden the prize. I had simply left the satchel in the cafeteria when called to operations. I hoped the golems would not happen upon it while cleaning. Alas, I was pressed to hurry. “I am a Keeper who must act as a Scout,” I told myself. Our situation was desperate indeed that I was the one to attempt such a thing.
After a short search and a lot of finagling I was able to find a way into the ventilation system. The ducts were narrow or flimsy in parts but I was able to negotiate such inconveniences. I happened upon the sensor of a bioscanner but was pleased to realize it was hopelessly corroded.
I navigated my course by peering through vents to ascertain my location. Unfortunately, I still got lost. I was exploring when I happened upon a revealing scene: Our pilot was lying supine upon a table, her goggles and elastic hood pulled back. Her eyes were open but rolled back, her mouth was gaped and her tongue poking out so I knew she was indeed dead. The long, spindly hands of Dr. Minmax took hold of her face and turned it to face him. Her mouth reflexively closed and her eyes “stared” into his, her pupils dilating wide. I recognized this ritual and knew the alien was gazing into the memories of my dead sister. “Traitorous wretch,” I thought and feared I thought aloud. Regardless, the alien did not hear me. I suspected Dr. Minmax intended to leave in our entomopter and was divining from our pilot how to fly the thing.
I remembered which chamber I saw the golem bring the dead Jockey to so I now knew my location within the station. I was soon peering through a vent into the cafeteria below. I was pleased to see my satchel where I had left it. Unfortunately, I would have to make noise to exit the ventilation system. I was a Concubine Keeper; not a Sentinel or Scout: what was now required was not in my job description. Alas, circumstances conscripted me for this most perilous undertaking.
I am not one for brute force but it proved the only means of egress. I cringed as the vent cover clattered to the floor. I dropped out of the duct… and was horrified to discover that a golem was in the room with me! He secured his mop in its bucket and stared at me with those soulless eyes of his. He asked in the nigh monotone of a golem, “Are you all right?”
“Yes?” I answered.
The golem picked up the vent cover and set it aside. He then resumed mopping and paid me no further heed.
I snatched up my satchel. I then sprang up the wall and pulled myself back into the ventilation system.
I possessed a secret of the ancients. An alien rebel designed to acquire the secret and use it to liberate his people from our benevolent rule. I was the entire Virgin Army here. Dr. Minmax was his entire rebellion. Our struggle was no less than if it were fought by hordes and legions.
I returned to the roof and made my way to the landing pad. I am not a pilot but every entomopter in our service has an automated “return to base” function. Sadly, the aircraft was guarded by a golem. Unlike the janitor in the cafeteria this one would surely kill me.
I laughed at myself. I was a fool not to remember the enervation field that would cause the aircraft to lose power and crash. The field would undoubtedly stay active until Dr. Minmax was ready to leave. I was amused by the irony that the golem guarding the entomopter inadvertently saved my life.
Dr. Minmax was stronger than I am and had magical powers. The golems obeyed his commands. I needed a weapon. I had found the bodies of the Sentinels and wondered if their minicarbines were hidden in the same closet. I dreaded daring such a venture, especially since the weapons may not even be where I thought they may be. I entertained second thoughts.
The melodic but somewhat shrill voice of Dr. Minmax spoke to me via my communicator, “Fairuza Blue the Audacious, I am not here to kill you. Yes, I arranged the killing of your sisters but not for its own sake. Like you I serve a purpose beyond myself. I am loyal to my people and shall do whatever I must in their best interest.” Knowing my response could compromise my location I did not respond. I listened as the alien told me, “I am not your enemy. It is agreed among my people that your empire is in our best interest. We are willing to serve you. We are eager to do so but as equals. My success shall not be detrimental. The Concubines of the Great Seen Unseen are assured an ally.”
Against my better judgment I responded, “A treacherous ally is worse than an enemy.”
“Is it treachery for a people to resist those who subjugate them? We were neither friends nor allies for my servility was under duress.”
I disliked what I heard but I believed everything the alien told me. He encouraged, “Come to me and give me the data. We shall part ways and you shall return to your sisters. We may be allies soon thereafter.”
The alien was graciously asking me to surrender. I told him, “I am not at liberty to surrender intelligence into your possession. As a Virgin Soldier of the Great Seen Unseen I am obligated to kill our capture you. Should I take you prisoner your fate shall be decided by proper authority.”
The alien chuckled. He rambled, “Humans are selfish and corrupt but you clones are nothing of the sort. Your obligations are your only concern.” Dr. Minmax stopped talking.
Mindful that my position may have been discovered I leapt from the roof onto a crumbling wall and sought a place to hide among the scattered ruins.
My handheld analyzer was within my satchel. I activated my device just long enough to disconnect it from the main computer. I kept the analyzer but hid my satchel in a nook behind statue of a bearded man holding a stubby rod. I recognized the graven image and was
amused by the irony: a scientist of the ancients holding a handheld analyzer. Why was the man wearing a tiara? Was the ornament a technological device in its own right? The broach of the figure’s robe was clearly a communicator and his wristband an interface. Alas, I did not have the time to scrutinize this statue further.
My trail could be tracked. My satchel and its invaluable content were sure to be found if I did not neutralize the enemy. I pondered what I should do. I feared the minicarbines may not be with the bodies of the Sentinels. I doubted the bodies would be left in the closet to fester but would the weapons be removed as well? The golem guarding the enotmopter was unarmed so perhaps Dr. Minmax did not trust the mindless things with plasma weapons. Dr. Minmax may be keeping one of the minicarbines on his person now that he knew I was lurking about. Oh, how my dilemma vexed me. Alas, my duty was what it was regardless. I returned to the station intent on somehow neutralizing Dr. Minmax.
I went in the way I came out. My analyzer in hand I crawled about the ventilation system in search of opportunities. I found Dr. Minmax. He spotted me. He grinned up at me and greeted, “Fairuza Blue, you have returned. Come out and let us make peace.”
I crawled away frantically, hoping desperately to escape for I realized the ducts had become a trap. The voice of Dr. Minmax told me via my communicator, “Fairuza Blue, where are you going? Come to me or else