Humanity 2.0, Year 055, Day 301

This kind of sexual tension always made the work day interesting, especially when Wren and Sasha were both present - they liked to one-up each other on ways to tease me before I finally just grabbed one or both and fucked them senseless before we went back to work.

The sun was up, and my cock still mostly hard, when Wren stumbled out of the bedroom as well. She wore only lacy black panties, her long white hair falling over half her face and loaning her the cycloptic look - which she used to glare at Sasha for a few moments before she shambled over to the second console and plopped herself down in the chair. Her tattoos were almost entrancing, her pale skin shifting ever so slightly and making them change and shift as she tapped points in the air, calling up her e-mails then checking the progress of her elements in the enterprise.

Sasha spoke aloud, to the air, but obviously to Wren. "Coming out with your tits flopping around is cheating, you know."

Wren didn't respond, at least not with words - there was just one middle finger held aloft over her shoulder, remaining there for a few moments without even a glance at either of us before she returned to using it for her work. There was nothing floppy about either's tits, in the slightest, of course - Sasha just... says mean things to Wren sometimes. Wren says meaner things back. It's how they show that they love each other. Or that they hate each other. Still not sure. By then, I'd discarded the idea that the two were mutually exclusive.

"Hey, bitch, you check your own damn intel feeds lately?" Wren spoke aloud, to the air, but- well, you get it.

"Sure did, you - oh." Her voice suddenly seemed concerned. "Hmm. This wasn't there before."

I glanced over, still not entirely sure how to read the odd formatting she used for her drones' intel reports. A bunch of Cyrillic gibberish - I confess I still hadn't learned her native Slovak. I kept telling myself I'd do it later. The various characters and symbols weren't even arranged or color-coded in any way that I recognized. All that I could make sense of was the single image at the center, floating in the air - some kind of heavy-looking mechanical structure, maybe a bunker or hangar. It was impossible to tell.

"What the hell's that?" I shrugged, causing Sasha to shift a little in my lap. I was still much too conscious of how sexy that tight frame of hers was. She seemed a little bitchy this morning, so maybe I'd make her watch as I fucked Wren first.

"No idea."

I frowned. Sasha's response was a bit worrying; an engineering genius like her could recognize virtually any piece of hardware - be it archaic, modern, or experimental, from the whole world over.

"Well, it's in Miller's camp." I folded my arms together, or attempted to - bringing Sasha close to me in an oddly protective gesture. "That's... a bit worrying."

"Probably some kind of maintenance facility for his ghilmen, or a fancy powerplant. Look at all the cables feeding into it. Thing's connected to the entire rest of his camp." Sasha shrugged. Miller's former shipping empire was peanuts compared to his current stranglehold on ghilmen weapons technology. It still drives me into a fit of simmering rage to think that the reason he'd acquired what he had was almost certainly from what he gleaned when he had me in captivity for so long.

Sasha had her arms folded under her small breasts, tapping one finger on her elbow as she considered the image - then shrugged. "Machines, cyborgs too, make stuff that looks really weird when they let them design things on their own. I'll task a spy drone on it and let's not worry quite yet." She shrugged, tapping a few more symbols in the air to assign one of the little spy jobbies she kept well above the cloud layer.

Miller's camp - we called it that because that was how it started out, though it was really a full-blown base by now - was in a largely unoccupied section of Siberia, where we, too, were, only a few dozen miles south of us. Nova-Russia might not have given us much trouble after the first few years, but unfortunately, Miller's inexhaustible checkbook also tended to keep them from asking any questions of him either.

It didn't appear to be going anywhere, so I let the odd structure be for the moment - and, taking Sasha off my lap momentarily, set her down on the tabletop as I went into the kitchen to make us a more proper breakfast than Sasha's banana.

I had the skillet out and was making pancakes en masse, watching news feeds out of the corner of my eye. Same old. Syrian Alliance making more noise at NATO, no shots fired - yet. Links found between a popular sweetener and two kinds of stomach cancer. More semi-panic about the West Antarctic ice shelf slipping off; it slid another quarter-mile in the past three months. The fun never ends.

I set out the table with a pitcher of orange juice, then rang the old-school small brass bell I had mounted in the kitchen. Both girls were right there in the room, but it was an affectation I had. Soon the three of us were at the table, eating breakfast together - talking only briefly about the project, but mostly about different things we'd heard from the kids.

When Sasha and I had finished, we sat around the table briefly, waiting for Wren - always the slowest eater. Wren still couldn't be bothered to get dressed, and occasionally spilled syrup onto her bare chest - then giving the two of us an exaggerated frown. Sasha rolled her eyes and got up to go put something on. Wren still was enticingly wiggling her small boobs at me, making a show of how much she wanted me to come clean her up.

Five minutes later, we were on the couch, my shirt unbuttoned but Wren's panties still on - she was sitting on my lap and I was slowly treating her breasts to a magnificent display of pleasure. Knowing each of them as intimately as I did, I knew Wren wasn't quite one of those who had sensitive enough breasts to reach orgasm from that alone - but she was close, and I could spend hours licking, nibbling, and suckling at those smallish bumps on her chest.

My cock had been hard for a while now, but there was no rush. Sasha emerged, wearing one of the skin-tight bodysuits they used when they were going to pilot one of the aug shells - the top still unfastened, giving us an enticing view of her chest. She smiled at us, walking over to kiss first me, then Wren, who shot her a nasty glare before returning it.

"When are you two going to get over this thing?" I sighed.

"Meh." Sasha stood up, stretching - and completely ignoring the question. I don't think even they remembered how it started. I sure didn't. "I was going to go out and take another look at the wiring on the ground levels... but it can wait." She grinned, and the top of her bodysuit was tossed away.

Another five minutes had passed, and my cock was buried inside Sasha, who was laying out on her back on the love seat, sideways. I was plunging in and out of her from one end, and on the other, Wren had perched herself directly above Sasha's face, where she was receiving a similar loving treatment to her pussy than I had given her breasts not long ago.

Sasha was tight and wet, and as always, a very responsive and verbal lover. She's always had a foul mouth, and I knew just enough of her native language to know that she was even more so when she reverted to it as she approached the height of pleasure.

"Fuck me! FUCK ME!" She was outright yelling now, long since having gotten used to the whole 'we're the only people for several miles' thing we had going. Some of the girls weren't loud despite that, and some others were doubly so. Unfortunately - or fortunately, depending how you look at it, I suppose - many of them didn't unlearn the habit when we were all living together in the Vault. With as horny as our kind are, it made for some very noisy neighbors... but at least we all knew we could walk over and join in if it was that bothersome.

As always, I didn't respond. I wasn't very vocal myself, never have been. Wren, similarly, was more interested in grinding her pussy against Sasha's face than making noises about it. I pumped my big cock in and out of Sasha repeatedly, knowing I didn't have to focus too much to make her come; I simply thrust away.

I could sense from the trembling of her thighs and abdomen - and yes, even the miniscule motions inside the walls of her pussy - that Sasha was rapidly coming. She was insatiable, even for one of us... and she called Wren a slut. I grinned.

The familiar boiling in my balls was welcome, and I didn't make any attempt to slow down or hold back for now. Roaring aloud, I redoubled my thrusting as I approached the climax - then erupted, loosing massive amounts of come inside her.

I plopped back on the opposite couch, letting my softening cock rest on my thigh as I watched the girls re-settle themselves into a sixty-nine. Funny; their enmity was gone, at least for now. One would never know, looking at them in that moment, that they were anything other than a loving, perfect lesbian pair, each eating the other out without hesitation.

I could see Wren trembling as well after a few minutes, her ass giving the tell-tale quiver that she always shows just before she comes. We both watched her ascent carefully, seeing the genius devolve and melt away to the same animal we all were - primal, passionate, and very sexual. For all her intellect, she didn't deny the basic creature she was inside. Wren bit her lip hard and her knuckles went white where she was gripping Sasha's fine ass, and she came, still occasionally tonguing her lover's folds even when she was being blasted with waves of pleasure.

Sasha had to go down below, and finished suiting herself up then went outside. The aug shell rose up next to the Foxtrot, a imposing, blue and black semi-humanoid figure with an odd empty spot in its figurative chest where Sasha soon was firmly ensconced. Wren was left there on the couch, nude and with her legs still spread wide shamelessly, while I absently tabbed through different reports back at my desk. Mostly boring technical stuff, but a few tidbits of useful information.

The comm sounded in the corner of my desk's field of vision, indicating a priority item that the AI had flagged. It was from Sasha's feed; she'd let it go the requisite amount of time without responding, so it defaulted to the rest of it. I tapped it. It opened up to a feed that it took me a few moments to recognize - the serial number at the bottom was the same drone that Sasha had tasked to monitor the new structure...

... except said structure was gone.

"Uh, Wren?"

"Yeah...?" I heard her call from behind the couch. I glanced over my shoulder; she had her screens floating above her nude form, her bare pussy on careless display as she laid with her legs spread wide. She wasn't even trying to be sexy; she just was relaxing. Somehow, that made it sexier. I couldn't help but let my eyes linger on her body for a few extra moments before remembering why I'd called her attention.

"Take a look at thaa..." Abruptly, the lights went out in the room, and I felt my hair standing on end as even I, with my less sensitive electrophoridae, sensed a wave of powerfl electromagnetic force wash over us. I blinked. "... what the fu-"

The first rail shot hit the nearby reactor's access tower. We didn't know they were using a mass driver then, of course; it was just a big explosion at the time. Why they chose that target was something it took us even longer to figure out - Nina and Rain became fairly convinced later on that they'd guessed it was some kind of control center.

It bore a vague resemblance to a communications tower, and it wasn't even intentional on our part. Its heroic, if unintended, sacrifice may well be what saved our asses; if they'd targeted the Foxtrot directly with that kind of firepower, we'd have all been dead instantly - hominus or not.

The world flashed brightly and I threw myself atop Wren an instant before the shockwave hit, cracking the windows and causing the Foxtrot to shudder. Debris smacked into the hull, clanging and leaving long, sinuous cracks in the compound glass. Alarms and klaxons went off immediately, the lighting changing to deep orange and the clamps disengaging. I felt the whole thing lurch and a queasiness in my stomach as, for a moment, we went into free-fall.

The Foxtrot had only shut down for a half-second from the EMP; it had already fired up its secondary, EMP-hardened core and was in emergency-escape mode. It would seek out the nearest place to hole up and ascertain our safety. With another hard jerk, it took hold of girders a few floors down from where we'd been - then clambered rapidly to the west, taking a semi-randomized path through the thick metal jungle.

All around, through brief glimpses I could see of the outside as we bolted through Elysium's skeleton, were more flashes and explosions. The lights of Elysium were all dark now, and the only illumination was the detonations of billions of dollars' worth of resources. They were targeting the perimeter - oh hell, the maser batteries. I remembered now where they were all positioned, and that had been at least three we lost right then. Probably a safe bet the others were already dust too, or about to be.

The Foxtrot turned to take a path through a towering column of smoke that was rising from the closest maser battery, masking its visual and IR signatures... but also obscuring my own perception outwards. It would be navigating on the same sonar the ACs used now.

Just before then, I could see as we passed several ACs in their hunkered-down cover mode, when they folded their legs tightly to their bodies and became effectively a solid metal block. All of them did that that because it was expected for the batteries to hold off attackers; the ACs didn't even have combat programming, all they knew how to do was either run away or do their best turtle impression, as then.

The Foxtrot leapt straight out the side of the building, immediately giving me a lurch in my stomach as we entered free-fall; emergency-escape mode wasn't exactly designed with the passengers' comfort in mind. If we survived the escape, that was good enough for the program - and that was with hominus tolerances in mind.

It might still have been a halfway decent ride, if the damn AI - ever not quite intelligent - chose a path toward its selected cover site that crossed directly above one of the remaining maser batteries as it leapt. The rail strike obliterated it in an instant, fired from miles outside its effective range; it never had a chance. The power cells inside detonated, blasting out and upward, enveloping the Foxtrot and sending us tumbling through the air as it attempted - to varying degrees of success - to protect its occupants.

The computer's hominus-designed tolerances had no problem with slamming Wren and myself into the wall - very hard, enough to probably give a human multiple compound fractures - when we landed, and the walls around us buckled and screeched as the whole hull of the Foxtrot wailed in agony. It had landed end-on, like a torpedo shot into the earth, and even from where I was, I could tell this would be its last day of service to us.

Our view through the shattered windows was bad, but I could tell we'd landed inside the tower's lower levels. The skeleton was finished, but none of the floors, ceilings, walls... it was simply an endless array of heavy, dull reddish ceramic-steel girders, engineered to last a millenia... or longer.

There was a choking cough, and I realized Wren - whom I was still mostly cradling - was waking up. "Ben."

"Wren. Don't move." I knelt down on the buckled wall I was kneeling on, and held her head up. Externally, she had only cuts and bruises, but something had felt... wrong, when I moved her even slightly. It was her back, or her ribs... I didn't have time to figure it out. Neither did she.

"Fuck... I think I broke every bone ever..." She coughed again, then opened her eyes, gazing at me through drying blood running down from a cut on her forehead.

Nina emerged from the sideways door to her cabin. She had a bathrobe on, and her hair was soaking wet; she must have been showering. Her bare feet rested atop the recessed door, and she held the opposite side of the doorway with her hands, squatting in midair. The fact that it gave us both a clear and wonderful view of her bare pussy wasn't important to us at the time - well, maybe a little important to me, but you know how I am.

"What the hell is going on?" Nina's demanding voice always brought me out of my... stupors.

I shook my head. "It's Miller. We've got to move, now. Let him take some ground if he wants it that bad. We'll get it back." I turned to Wren. "Where's Sasha?" I froze, my blood going cold. "Don't tell me-"

"She wasn't at the reactor. I checked that much right af-" Wren hacked and coughed, and this time, I was sure I caught her hiding a few spots of blood on her hand before she whisked it off to her side. Shaking her head, she continued. "Her aug suit still took that blast head-on, but she was far enough away... I saw her vitals were still good. Her suit may be shot to hell, though."

Nina was approaching us, gingerly stepping over the shattered glass and rubble about the new floor. "We have some cover, at least, but Miller will be sending in ghilmen any time now."

I blinked; I hadn't even looked at where we landed. The Foxtrot had dragged itself into the foundation of what would later be one of the support towers - and only a half-finished example. It was three stories deep, with a dizzying array of reinforced concrete rooms and walls all about. It gave us cover from anything save for a strike from directly above, and we would be able to hole up here for a while.

"I need a second..." Wren frowned, then scooted backward slightly. "The network... it wasn't ready for this. It could have sustained the EMP a few months from now when the core housings were finished - he must have known right when to hit us. Ninety percent of the cores have to be fried... or worse. All the drones we had up are shot, too, but the backups in the hangars might still work - if they get the launch command." She paused, then looked up again. "I have partial radar. He's bringing in five... no, eight hyperfans. And... oh, fuck me, that thing is huge." She tapped a flickering radar screen, enlarging and turning it toward us.

The thing, whatever it was, was indeed enormous - easily larger than the rest of Miller's aircraft combined. I didn't think they even made bombers and fuel planes that big; what could it be? We all knew the answer for now - we didn't have time to figure it out, and it would be arriving well before we could speculate up a half-decent theory.

Wren was calling up diagnostics, all abstract diagrams and code figures that only she and perhaps Sasha truly understood. The underlying computer science of Elysium I'd left to her and Sasha - my own expertise didn't go beyond video games and installing swank new headphones.

"Wren." I waved a hand in front of her screens, breaking her attention briefly. "Can you stop him, or at least slow him down? We need to shore up a defensive position, buy time until the others can come - and bring all Hell with them." I paused. "What about the ghilman-jammer idea? It wasn't ready in Bangladesh, but maybe now..."

"Maybe. I'd need everything online to try it, though." She tapped a few icons, bringing them up. "There's another option. Miller blew out all the active drone control towers, but they probably didn't know that two were half-finished. If I can get in close to one of them, I can control the aerial drones - and the whole AC fleet."

"The ACs? They aren't programmed for combat." I shook my head. "They only know how to run away and do their turtle thing."