Ure Infectus (Imperium Cicernus Book 4) by Caleb Wachter Page A

the rest of the newly-founded Sector, had almost certainly benefited from
the wormhole’s collapse two centuries earlier.
    She opened the window and the drone moved fractionally
closer before its screen activated, revealing an incredibly odd sight: a
red-haired, hyper-voluptuous woman wearing little more than a pair of
strings—which thankfully covered her digital nipples—and a ridiculously short,
red, skirt with white polka dots.
    “Hi, beautiful,” the image said with a wink, and Masozi
furrowed her brow in confusion. She wondered if this was some sort of a gag…or
maybe she was on one of those hidden camera shows? “It looks like you’ve got a
secret admirer,” the overtly sexualized image said with a giggle, “and I can
see why with such beautiful skin…and that incredible definition…I’m so
jealous,” the drone said with a perfectly practiced pout.
    “I’m sorry…can I help you?” Masozi asked, becoming
increasingly annoyed with not only the ridiculous scene but also her reaction
to it. I must look like such a fool , she thought bitterly.
    “Of course, sweetie,” the drone said as she gave a thumbs-up
sign, causing parts of her body to jiggle in ways that likely defied gravity,
“you give me a palm scan and I’ll give you a surprise!”
    Masozi considered the matter, then reluctantly did as the
drone suggested by grasping the scanning aperture and squeezing it like she had
done hundreds of times before.
    The image on the screen shuddered and the speakers let out a
loud—unmistakably erotic—moan, causing Masozi to withdraw her hand in surprise.
The woman’s image returned, except her virtual hair was a mess and her virtual
makeup had been smeared all over her virtual face. “Mmmm,” she—no, it ,
purred, “was that as good for you as it was for me?”
    Masozi rolled her eyes, becoming increasingly certain that
she was on a gag show of some kind and she let out an obligatory laugh as the
delivery drone’s cargo compartment slid open, revealing a box measuring
approximately one inch by three inches by six inches. She took the box from the
compartment and her mood turned slightly more serious as she turned it over and
found no markings of any kind.
    But that’s illegal , she thought to herself. She, and
every other citizen of Virgin, knew that all parcels in transit were
required to bear physical tags demonstrating their points of origin, intended
routes, and other itinerant information for legal and security purposes.
    “See you around, sugar,” the image on the drone’s screen
said before blowing a virtual kiss and disappearing as the drone gently drifted
down and out of sight.
    Masozi closed the window and examined the box more closely.
It was completely unremarkable and, after a long moment of contemplation, she
opened it to peruse its contents.
    What she saw took the breath from her lungs: it was an
insignia of the Timent Electorum! Rather, it was a decal which was made in the
image of the insignia, and she picked it up to examine it more closely. The
reverse side was like any cheap decal, with a peel-away adhesive pad which had
two words written on it:
    Pick up .
    She nearly dropped the box when it began to vibrate in her
hands. After a moment she realized it had not been the box which had vibrated,
but something that was inside the box.
    Beneath where the decal had been was a pair of objects: one
was a cheap, civilian-class earpiece communication device, and the other was a
similarly cheap link pad. The earpiece had been vibrating, and there was an
icon on the screen of the link pad which showed an unread message had been
received by it.
    Masozi thought very hard about her next actions and decided
that regardless of what she meant to do in the future, her best option was to
do answer the call.
    She placed the earpiece in her left ear and activated it after
taking a deep breath. “Hello?” she said.
    Silence was her only reply for several seconds, and just
when she was about to