True Master's Foolish Dreams

The Slave moved her hips to line up with her Master, desperate for him to continue.

The Master pushed himself up, breaking the kiss.

The Slave blinked several times and slowly closed her lips, chest and cheeks flushed she demurely looked up at her Master, silently inviting him to continue.

He raised an eyebrow, "I don't know about you, but I feel like taking things, slowly."

The Slave shuddered again but didn't move, fearing and wishing for her Master to follow through on his promise. Her Master like this, avoiding all his thoughts, living in the moment could continue through the night until the sun rose. She was either going to be riding pleasure the entire night or teased and taken to the edge a thousand times until he kissed her at the first ray of light.

She did not know which night to beg for.

The Master made his decision, "Oh little Slave, you are going to squirm for me."

The Master moved his hands to his Slave's rear, holding the flesh he lightly squeezed. "I want you on top of me, desperate for another kiss, for a touch. I want you to hold out for as long as you can, before you beg me to take you."

The Slave took in a gulping breath, regaining her ability to speak. "I could beg now."

"You could, I know." The Master leaned down, pressing his weight down onto her.

"You could, but I'm not going to take you until you're desperate." He smirked, "When your skin is flushed red, slick with sweat. When your hair is tangled, when your lips are locked around me. When I can see nothing but a desperate little slave. That is when I'll believe your words. When you are at your most beautiful, a Slave not controlled by this."

The Master tapped a finger across her Interface, "But this." He moved his hand down to her heart, able to feel the frantic beating beneath her skin.

Kate shuddered at his words, a tingle completely unlike the pleasure induced by the Interface blossomed underneath his hand. Her Master loved her, and she loved him. The words that expressed the emotions with it were paltry, insignificant things compared to her feelings.

"I think you're a little too confident in your own stamina, Master."

Marcus grinned, "Well I'm just going to have to prove it aren't I?"

He pressed his lips to her neck and let the last ounce of his self-control fade.

The storm beyond the windows continued to rage around the city.

People slept, people ate, people made love. The people of the city, and far beyond in every part of the world went about their lives. Consumed with self-interest, and the paradoxical quirk of Human nature to help.

Monsters rested, monsters consumed, monsters fucked. They beat into slaves of metal, word, and mind. They continued existing for death, unconcerned with what they would leave behind.

=========

Hardening my eyes at the representative, I slowly pushed my chair back from the wooden table and stood.

The man winced, and turning, focused on my bodyguards behind me almost as if he feared what would happen when our eyes met. "This is the only treaty we will accept."

"Then you are condemning what remains of your army to death and enslavement. Your citizens to famine and hardship, your lands to ruin." I paused and sighed, "I'm getting tired of this dawdling on your part, we both know it's nothing more than a delaying action on your part. I've been playing along so I might perhaps look a little better in the history books, but I'm done."

The representative didn't react to my words. He was a career politician, if there was one thing, he was capable of, it was lying through his teeth and keeping up the poker face.

"You have an hour to be on your aircraft and another four to clear my airspace. The ceasefire will be nullified twenty-four hours," I glanced at my watch, "from now."

The representative collected his tablet and array of paper documents. Shoving all of them into a small briefcase he stood, straightening his tie and buttoning his suit. He took in a steadying breath and gestured towards my right. At the thing standing there clad in a standard bland grey slave jumpsuit.

"Ms. Sinclair?" he asked.

I cleared my throat and looked down at the small pin on his lapel. It was a transmitting camera, the signal using an old obfuscating encryption schema from the early 90's. Old and simple enough that the security team had nearly missed it. The video on the other end would be grainy, distorted, and perhaps even lacking color, but details would still be sharp, my voice audible.

"The return of your President's sister was predicated on this being an actual negotiation. Not an attempt to delay so you can continue to marshal what remains of your forces. I have said it before, and it seems I must repeat myself. I will be taking control of your country. I would prefer to do so peacefully without loss of life, and you could have helped me do that. Now, lives will be lost, and blood spilled."

Reaching down to the table, I picked up my own significantly more advanced tablet than the one the representative had. Tapping at it a few times, I sent the silent order for Ms. Sinclair to approach me.

Mechanically she plodded over to stand beside me.

She had been kidnapped only two months ago, but her hair had grown out into a wild mane and she had lost some weight, which made her look frightfully gaunt now. Other than that, and a change of clothes, she had not been touched. Even the Interface clamped to the back of her neck was a temporary one.

"I am going to drag your people out of their squalor, even if their so-called leaders are not. If blood must be spilled, so be it."

I tapped out another command on the tablet.

Ms. Sinclair smoothly turned and held out her hand to the bodyguard on my right. The man glanced at me and I gave a small nod. Reaching into his jacket, he pulled out a small metal case. Popping it open he carefully extracted the syringe and deposited it in her hand. Turning the small device around, Ms. Sinclair quickly popped the protective cap off and moving the needle to her opposite arm quickly injected herself.

The Representative had a hand up, and was partially out of his seat, mouth open as if he were going to yell, but he had not reacted quickly enough.

Reaching over to the woman, I pulled the temporary Interface off her neck. The skin stuck to it for a moment as the needles of the temporary device were pulled from her skin. Palming the device, I slipped it into the pocket of my own suit jacket.

Ms. Sinclair shuddered and shaking herself once, threw the needle she was still holding across the room. Stumbling, and throwing her hands out onto the table to stabilize herself she moved away from me and my guards towards the other side of the table. Garbled moans and words were spilling from her lips, not talking, and only eating nutrient paste for two months was more than enough to atrophy the ability for speech.

Idly I glanced at the injector she'd thrown. A bodyguard had already stooped down to pick it up.

"Polonium 210. You just injected yourself with about a quarter of a gram. More than enough to kill five million people. You will be able to make it home though, see all of those you love before you die. It would be best if you ensure you're not cremated unless you wish to poison your mourners."

The woman let out the loudest sob yet. I ignored her, instead addressing the stunned representative, and more importantly the man watching the feed. "Your only recourse now is a complete surrender Mr. President. I will be attacking your bunkers and the remaining military assets you have 24 hours from now. I will then destroy all civilian infrastructure. When your armies are dead, and your people are starving without water, food, or power I will offer peace to them on the condition they deliver me the heads of the men and women who led them down this path."

Turning my back on the two representatives for the last foreign thorn in my side I trudged out of the meeting room.

Two bodyguards closed the door behind me. Closing my eyes, I let myself slump against the old wooden things, the ramrod posture I'd been keeping falling away.

Across the hall, leaning up against one of the windows of the Tower, Advisor glanced up from the tablet he was holding. "You know from just watching these negotiations I'd think you like going to war."

I shot him a glare, "Being civil at this stage is just a waste of time. They know what the outcome will be same as you or I. All their elite are trying to do know is negotiate for better positions in my regime."

Pushing off from the window Advisor shrugged, "Yes, that's turned out so well for everyone else who's tried."

His eyes flicked towards the Elysium fields, just visible just beyond the outer walls from our vantage point far above the city. There was hardly a need for Human labor to work agriculture without automation, but when one had lived as gods unconcerned with the ones below them their entire lives, the working of soil without machines was therapeutic.

I huffed and continued down the hall, Advisor fell into step beside me walking with me.

Studiously I ignored him, making my way through the corridors towards my court. The flow of other administrators and politicians barely broke around me and my troop of bodyguards. They were just as busy as I was, now that what would perhaps be the final war in Human history was about to take place. Stopping to bow and sate my ego was not a productive use of their time.

Only the slaves moved to the side for me, and anyone else who happened to be walking through the corridors.

The ornate décor of stone and wood gave way to the standard light grey carpet and soft white wall paneling as I stomped up several flights of stairs to the midsection of the tower at 75 stories up it gave an impressive view from the exact center of what remained. Walking through the elevator atrium for the level I was almost absorbed in the small crowds of others taking the bridge that connected to sister tower. The two were not identical, the bridge an addition to the old tower where my Court was.

I was not completely absorbed into the crowd of other going about their work, which was understandable. As much as I discouraged special treatment for myself anywhere but my Court, people were still wary.

I after all, had access to their very souls. Their minds and body would obey my every order as if I were an ancient childish god.

Walking through the semi-clean air of the city. I took in a breath, the skies were a clear blue and the only thing you could taste on the wind was the faint tang of the crops outside the city, and the odd gust from the decorative plants that adorned many of the smaller towers.

Moving across the bridge I kept my eyes forwards; Advisor was still at my heels. Any pause to smell the proverbial roses and he would pounce.

Pushing through the doors into the lobby of what was effectively my Tower I stepped into the elevator that was reserved for my use. All the bodyguards save for two, peeled off at the doors. Advisor followed me inside and there was the faint feeling of growing heavier as the elevator quickly moved up two dozen floors to almost two thirds up the tower.

The sound of the security systems disengaging was the signal for him to speak apparently, as the carriage slowed and locked into the secured cradle that would prevent it from leaving the floor he spoke.

"We have had an incident."

I snorted and stepped into my court. It was the only place I had allowed for indulgences, but even so it was to my tastes. The floor was a natural black granite, marbled and flecked with natural imperfections to give it character. The carpets over top of it not matching any style, but gifts from various artisans.

My throne as it was, a simple wooden chair unadorned but finely made and oiled. No carvings adorned its surface. There was a catharsis to lighting the damn thing up after dealing with someone particularly infuriating. Keeping the thing simply made it easy to replace.

It was positioned on a dais only a single step up from the rest of the room.

Tables around the edge of the room held books, tablets, computers, and other bits I had collected which could be put on semi-public display. Pieces of old art from before the world burned, pieces that I'd personally found interesting. The famous pieces that still survived were in public museums.

Aesthetically interesting geodes and gems, interesting pieces of machinery, a piece of an old mainframe from the 1970's.

Chained to the back wall of the chamber were the former enemies, and nuisances who weren't too dangerous to be kept alive. They sat on comfortable chairs and had access to the books, but they were prisoners. The chains around their waists only an indulgence for theatricality on my part, each of them had an Interface.

There was no escape from that.

In the center of the back wall, was another throne. One far more ornate, padded and comfortable. Only one slave could sit in it, and it had the longest chains.

Pausing before the throne I leaned back on one foot and crossing my arms turned to Advisor.

"Of course, there is. I only see you when we've had incidents."

Advisor smirked, "Then I should be endeavoring to make sure you never see me again?"

I chuckled, "That would just make things far too boring. What happened?"

He nodded and pulled out his own Com, clicked it he casually sent a collection of different data streams up onto the displays around the room.

I quickly glanced over them even as he started speaking.

"Someone got their hands-on unencrypted source code. We detected their intrusion when they accessed the fifth block's control hub. Defense let them stay in the system for a few hours while they tried to track them down. They were smart about it,"

He brought up the trace logs and data stream patterns.

I nodded seeing the pattern almost immediately "The intruders were physically inside the fifth hub, but they were bouncing signals out and back into it to make it look like they were badly proxying into it. A technical, and a tactical ruse in one."

The Advisor smiled, "Yep, Took the Commander an hour to figure that out after he had the tech explain how all the back traces were being blocked."

I nodded, my eyes still flicking between the screens and the data on them.

"Kudos to the Commander, still this was a very well executed attack. I can't tell if they broke the encryption on the code or if they managed to find an old archive somewhere."

The Advisor shrugged, "We're running analysis, I'll be sure you get it and the raw data. Best guess at the moment is both, they heavily modified the source for themselves wherever they got it."

I nodded my eyes still going through the data that showed the different methods and API's the hackers had gone for. It was an elegant attack, for what it was going after. Brutally bypassing certain checks with raw compute power at points, while bypassing them at others.

Filing the vulnerabilities away I nodded, "Any idea what they were after?"

The Advisor grimaced, "Limbic and emotional control. From what we've managed to glean, they were going to tweak the algorithms to make anyone running in Fifth more suggestible to the two of them specifically. Make it easier for them gain trust and support. Taken to the extreme, it looks like the program would have been able to change interpersonal relationships. Love into hate, loathing into adoration and everything in between. They've had a broadsword, and they were going to use it like a scalpel."

I leaned back in my uncomfortable chair and nodded, "A smart approach. Not going for the Control methods directly, a more natural revolution where they are the scrappy rebel leaders. A romantic tale at least."

The Advisor closed his Com, the screens went dark. "I'll have the complete analysis in five hours or so."

I stood up and walking away from my throne, moved over to one of the computer consoles.

Waking the machine and blinking as all my own code and programs came to life on the old-style displays, I sat in one of the more comfortable spinning chairs near the desk and quickly finding the captured code already on the internal analysis repo.

The tags on it showed that a full quarter of the analysts in the Towers were looking it over, annotating and tearing into it.

Smiling I took a copy of the most recent decompile and dumped it into my own repository.

"Bring the romantics up here in about an hour."

I could imagine the Advisor pursing his lips; feel his eyes flick towards the other things in the back of my throne room. Only one of the creatures looked back at him. I didn't have to see any of it to know.

Advisor sighed, "I don't suppose reminding you that rule of law is something I'm supposed to be enforcing will change your mind?"

I paused in my walkthrough of the captured code.

"No." Slowly I turned in my chair so I could see him.

Advisor raised an eyebrow, before slowly straightening brining his chin up to meet my gaze. "Understood."

I turned back the code, not bothering to follow him out. Advisor had his position because he was willing to argue with me but ultimately, he knew what his purpose was. How replaceable he was, unlike others who still insisted on giving advice.

Typing away at the code I quickly absorbed most of the generalities, comparing it to the source code I knew. The two hackers were very good, and it would be a shame to let the piece of art that was their reverse engineering of my work suffer bitrot. All their program needed were a few of the fast-machine adaptive methods to better interface with the brain.

The sun moved outside. In the back of the room, one Slave shifted in her chains. I could hear her moving to read the monitors over my shoulder. I ignored her, continuing to work.

She was the only other person who had seen as much of the original source as I had. She did not have the natural knack for coding, but there were few other people in the world who were as intelligent. Linguistics, art, negotiation, subterfuge. All were in her domain, and by my mastery of one I ostensibly controlled her.

"Sir."

I jerked in my chair and turned; Advisor was back. Two people in the garish yellow-orange uniforms of prisoners with him. Both were young, perhaps twenty at the oldest. Young enough to only have hazy memories of the world before I had stopped playing shadowy games and subtle strategies with the powerful and saved the world.

They were lean, and both showed evidence of the brutality that had been common enough while I had still been consolidating power. Dozens of old scars lay beneath the fresh bruises on their faces, and each had an intelligent glint in their eyes, along with a smoldering hatred.

Standing up, I stretched and strode back towards my wooden throne.

"Connect them, leave."

The Advisor chewed on his lip but silently did as he was told, and quickly tapped in the codes to remove them from his control and transfer it to me. Task done, he turned and left again his face turning slightly pale.

Behind me, the sound of chains moving across the stone floor could be heard. The Saboteurs glanced at the noise as well, I didn't have to look to know who it was.

Kate stopped when the chain went taunt, a single foot on the dais of my throne.

I ignored her.

Tapping at my own Com I returned the Saboteurs ability to speak.

"bastard." Growled the man, speaking as his vocal cords relaxed letting him voluntarily move within the bounds of the program. Neither of them would be able to touch any Interface, and they could not step closer.

The young woman grimaced but didn't say anything as her tongue was loosened. She was two thirds the size of the man, and the one who took the lead for the two of them. Some glint in her eyes, the way the man was shifting in place towards her. Protective, but deferential, and trying to hide that fact.