Hand of Raziel (Daughter of Mars Book 1) by Matthew S. Cox

Author:Matthew S. Cox
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
ISBN: 9781620074206
Publisher: Curiosity Quills Press
Published: 2016-08-06T23:00:00+00:00

hopsticks slid from Risa’s hand, clattering into the plastic bowl. A teaspoon’s worth of broth at the bottom swirled as flecks of seaweed chased grains of exotic pepper. Her black silk robe, patterned with a metallic gold dragon on the back and sleeves, did little to stall the chill in the air. Tamashī had insisted she take it since she had far too many of them. Her meal was an exercise of routine rather than desire, a mechanical activity devoid of pleasure.

High off the ground in a mid-grade hotel room in Arcadia City, she stared through steam-fogged sliding doors at the ominous silhouette of the distant military complex. Elysium and its dome had been impressive, but with the advent of atmospheric retention fields, Arcadia existed without a physical barrier overhead. In addition, it sat clear in the path of the strongest wind current down from the North Polar Region, and the terraforming engines. Every so often, the glow of ion thrusters, in pairs or quartets, emerged from behind the dark mass and streaked into the sky. The hazy weather obscured the form and dimension of the vessels, reducing them to shapes Risa’s consciousness dubbed ‘air whales.’

Risa had watched luminous orbs ascending into the grey for over an hour. Her disinterest in the food prolonged the meal. Was General Everett on one of those ships? Tamashī said he should be at this facility, working a nice, comfortable desk job.

Fading daylight would soon give way to night. Violent gusts came at random, flinging water at the patio. The name of whoever figured out how to make it rain on Mars escaped her. Normal children absorbed factoids like that in school. Her education had been more… specialized. Garrison did what he could, but wanted men who had to stay underground could only teach so much.

Demolitions, how to handle firearms, hand-to-hand combat, infiltration, rudimentary hacking, lock picking―everything a little girl needed. Everything except how to escape the guilt.

A heavy rumble rattled the patio door. Another ship went skyward, this one with six violet-blue thrust cones. Whatever it was, it had enough size to appear as a dark smear in the mist. Transport, probably. Maybe a cargo vessel. Infiltrating the military base, especially one attached to Arcadia City, was far more difficult than anything she’d ever attempted.

Risa stood and stretched. She padded to the bathroom, unsure how to feel about the sensation of smooth silk sliding over her legs. Subdued lighting flickered on as soon as she entered and crossed to lean on the sink. The face in the mirror resembled a Class 1 doll. High-resolution airbrushed makeup created the appearance of gaps, lines at the corners of her mouth where a machine-jaw had to move as well as small numbers on her cheek. Planting Walsh’s bugs had been easier than she’d imagined. She already had the glowing violet eyes. A long session of pondering how to hide them gave her the epiphany of using them as part of a disguise. Modern military-grade cybereyes looked no different from living ones.

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