Space Marine Read online

  Also by Merrell Michael

  Marine At War

  For Cory and Bill. I hope the real future treats you better than my imaginary ones.

  FORWARD: You are all real people.

  I like comment sections.

  They're the wave of the future. They tell you what people like or dont like, mostly people that dont have any reason to lie. I like all the comments I get, regardless of them being positive or negative. I comment a lot myself.

  I was on Huffington Post one day. I saw an article talking about a "Writers workshop" You could take online. Each class was about 350 dollars. I commented that I thought that was a suckers deal. I talked about how I had had a degree of success selling my own books on the Kindle store, and how that cost nothing. I added a comment that, in my opinion, the best way to get better at writing, was to actually sit down and work at it.

  I was flamed.

  Of course I was flamed. This is the internet, folks. But one comment riled me up a little. One troll told me that "If you want to have a few impulse buys on the Kindle, thats fine for you, but some of us want to get published, and be read by REAL readers."

  This one got to me.

  Of course its true that I price my books low enough to count as an impulse buy. $2.99 is less than the price of a venti latte at Starbucks, or most fancy coffee shoppes. But here's the thing: Ive bought print books on an impulse buy. Barnes and Noble has discount tables stacked with books under 5 bucks. Any time a public library has a sale, selling old books for a quarter or a dime, they get rushed with impulse buyers. People leave with stacks of books.

  Why is that a bad thing?

  I dont think thats what the commenter was trying to say, at all. At least I would hope not. One of my favorite books of all time, Catch-22, was 10 cents at a library sale. Thats a real book, if there ever was one. I dont think the commentor was argueing against the legitimacy of Joseph Heller's masterpiece. The real "point" he or she was trying to make, is that e-books arent real. And that people that write them, arent real authors. The only legitimate way to call yourself a writer, is to go through one of six new york publishing houses, and the only legitimate way to call yourself a reader is to buy that book when it comes out in hardcover, with a bunch of other contractually obligated writers gushing about it on the back cover.

  Folks, let me give you a little lesson on how the sausage is made.

  Let's start with a writer. This guy (or gal) has just finished his or her masterpiece. In between 100 and 150 thousand words, not to long and not too short. He's ready to give the story to the world. To share the light of his muse. He has not, in point of fact, been published before, but he is confident in his powers, and what they have produced.

  First he tries it hire an agent. He has read in some how to books that this is the way to go. Here he hits his first brick wall. There is only one sort of agent willing to pick up the phone for an unpublished novelist: the fake kind. Either he fails at this search, or finds an unscrupulous shyster to relieve his bank account of several hundred ( if not a thousand) dollars.

  On to stage two! He decides to send his manuscript directly to the publisher. Perhaps his how two book told him to do send a self-addressed-stamped- envelope along with it.

  This will be very helpful for the publishing editor, to put the document directly in the envelope and send it away without having to see it. Honestly, it doesn't matter what he sends along with the script: the editor recieves hundreds of these, and the book is getting thrown away or ignored.

  This is the state of the publishing industry today: Stephen king is not going away. Dean Koontz is not going away. Neither is George R. R. Martin or Jim Butcher. There is only so big a pie for books out there. Each author his his slice of audience. Why waste money and resources on a new, and unproven, schmuck?

  But there is a chance. And our schmuck makes it! He gets published! His book will be in print! He's rich! Right?

  Wrong. Our schmuck will recieve a check for about six thousand dollars. Half of that will be an advance on future sales. If his book tanks, he's going to have to give it back. Let me let you in on another little secret: most first time authors stay first- and -only.

  Our authors royalty comes out to about two dollars a copy for a thirty dollar book. Printing is expensive, and the profit margins are thin.

  Two dollars a book is what I make off my novels on the kindle store, at 2.99.

  So that's the sausage factory. This book would have never made it through there. Would have been discarded at some level or another.

  As for the last part, Stephen King describes writing as a kind of telepathy, through time and space. And I agree with him. It doesn't matter if the world are on a Kindle screen or etched on a cave wall. Words are words.

  And thanks to a revolution in publishing, here it is before you. I hope you enjoy it.

  Merrell Michael

  Beaumont, Texas

  October 2011

  SPACE MARINE

  Book 1 of the Chimera War

  ONE

  Like any colony, Mars has no end to shitty dive bars constructed from prefabricated pods. This one was called Roscoe's, judging by the half lit neon sign out front.

  I don't drink, so I had my water with lemon in front of me. I didn't really know where the lemon came from. Most likely artificial. Fresh fruit is tough to grow on worlds that aren't fully Terraformed, and Earths cousin has never fully took to the process. Still, I sipped my drink, and watched the screen.

  A football game was on, old American style. My favorite sport. It was the mutant league, which I didn't care for, but whatever. The genetically altered freaks bashed into each other for the pigskin, which most likely was as constructed as the players themselves. I sipped my water, and munched on a peanut from the bar. The one other patron was a fat drunk with a dirty shirt and a mesh hat, and he was leering at me.

  "Are you in the service, or sumpthin?" He slurred.

  I sighed inwardly. The haircut always gave it away. "Sure am." I said.

  "Which branch?" He prodded. "You in the Navy, or one of them flyboys?"

  "Neither." I told him. "Marines."

  He laughed, a little to long and loud, spraying spittle on his chest. "Get the fuck out of here." He said. "Your to little for that."

  I rolled my eyes. I stand five foot ten, and weigh one-seventy. Perfectly average and physically fit. "I'm full size, friend." I said. "Take my word for it."

  "Marines are s'posed to be seven foot." He put his hands out in front of him. "Giants. They gene-alter them." He pointed to the screen. "Like the ball players."

  "Sorry." I said. "The corporation doesn't allow that. You've been misinformed."

  The drunk pushed toward me. "You callin me stupid?"

  I forced a smile on my face. "Not at all." I called for the bartender. "Hey Lloyd, get my friend another drink, on my tab."

  "Make its two." The drunk said. The bartender brought the drinks and the drunk took them both over to a table in the middle of the room, to sulk and drink alone. That was fine with me. The last thing I needed was a fight. The illegal firearm under my jacket might fall out, and I didn't want anything to do with the security forces right now. I picked up the remote and switched the channel on the screen. A political debate came up. It must be time for the Terran elections again. Two middle aged men in suits were argueing with each other behind podiums. It was all theater. The Corporation owned both of them.

  "Hey, Lloyd." I told the bartender. "C'mere."

  When he leaned in, a told him that I wanted to go in the back.

  "Who's your friend?" He asked.

  "Vick." I said, giving him the password.

  "Its four hundred for an hour." He said.

  "Colonial?" I asked.

  "Terr
an." He said.

  I whistled, and brought out my wallet. I counted out four hundred paper Terran dollars on the counter. I could have used my account, but I didn't think that Lloyd would want any record of this transaction. A lot of the colonials preferred to use physical money. It made them feel safer. He watched me count it out, then snatched it up, and walked out from behind the counter. "This way." He said.

  We walked to a lower level of the bar, down a damp passageway that smelled like an overused air processor. We stopped at an unmarked door hatch. "Youve got one hour exactly." He said. "Do whatever you want, but dont damage the merchandise." He brought out a small plastic handgun from his waistband. "And don't try any dumb shit." He said. "When your finished, bang on the door. I'll be waiting outside."

  I smiled at him. "Thanks, Lloyd." He was still scowling. Always kill them with kindness. I ducked through the hatch. It sealed behind my with a pressurized hiss. I was locked in. I hadn't been expecting that, but it was not insurmountable.

  Inside was a good size room, maybe as wide as the bar above. It was lit by candles, and smelled like insence. I lifted the curtain of beads. On a large bed covered in colored rugs, the alien woman I had come to find looked at me.

  TWO

  As soon as the door was locked behind us, Ryan pulled Shayiza into an embrace again. Slowly, he pushed the shoulder straps of her dress down her arms, letting it fall at her feet, leaving her in just a pair of thigh high nylons. He felt her shiver as her now naked body pressed to his. Then he lifted her and carried her up the spiral steps leading to the loft where a freshly made bed awaited them. She felt like a feather in his strong arms. Ryan, who was six-foot two and almost two hundred pounds, outweighed her by ninety pounds at least.

  After he sat her on the edge of the bed, he stood back and began to undress. He could feel her eyes on the pistol in his holster as he removed his sports coat. He smiled at her and pulled the holster off, placing the weapon inside a dresser drawer and out of sight.

  Shayiza almost sighed in relief when the gun was safely in the drawer. She didn’t like guns. However, the fact that the handsome man carried one made her adventure seem that much more exciting, even dangerous. The scar on his cheek added to his mystique and it complemented his rough good looks. Wouldn’t her clients be surprised if he could see his timid wife with such a dangerous person? she thought as a little tremor ran through her. It served him right for what he had done to her she fumed and steeled her resolve to punish him.

  Shayiza smiled self-consciously as Ryan walked back over and began to remove his clothes in front of her. She watched as he pulled his turtleneck shirt over his head to reveal a strong and hairless chest. She noticed the circular scar on the side of his story and wondered what it was from. However, she knew it was not the time to ask as she watched with fascination as he unbuckled his belt and dropped his pants. A little moan escaped her lips when she saw the tent in his underwear. It looked quite large to her. She felt her heart rate increase. Her clients wasn’t very big but that never mattered to her. However, she never really had anything to compare it too until now.

  Slowly Ryan pulled the underwear down his legs, letting his throbbing erection spring out.

  “Oh my!” Shayiza gasped and her eyes opened wide in amazement. She began to tremble in excitement.

  Ryan could see excitement and a little fear in Shayiza's eyes as she stared at his long, hard penis. He stood in front of her for a minute, letting her look at his body as he did the same to her. Her body was perfect, showing no signs of ever having a baby. Not that having a baby was a problem. No, Ryan thought pregnant women and mothers were very sexy. He loved the maturity that came with motherhood, both mentally and physically. He and Sally had wanted ten kids if they could have them. It was always a joke with them that he would keep her barefoot and pregnant for the rest of their married life.

  Shayiza’s breasts were large and firm, with pretty pink nipples. Her stoRyanh was flat and smooth with just a hint of very light blond fuzz, leading downward to her blond and sparsely haired pubic mound. He could see that she was a natural blond.

  Now, Ryan was the one staring. He could see a glint of clear liquid trickling from between the swollen inner lips of her vagina.

  Ryan went slowly to his knees in front of Shayiza. He saw a look of surprise on her face as he bent his head and began to kiss the inside of her knee and then up her silk covered thighs. He heard her moan in excitement as he pushed her knees apart, kissing higher and across the warm flesh of her inner thigh. He loved the smooth skin high on a woman’s thighs. There was something special about the feel of the protected soft flesh between the nylons and panties. It was a secret place, so warm and inviting to his tongue.

  “What… what are… are you doing?” Shayiza whispered breathlessly.

  Ryan looked up in surprise. “I’m going to eat you,” he said.

  “Oh God. never… uh… I’ve never had that done to me,” she stuttered.

  At first Ryan thought that she was kidding. He couldn’t imagine a young woman now days that didn’t give and receive oral sex. It suddenly dawned on him that this young girl was almost a virgin; something he hadn’t counted on. A smile crossed his lips and he said, “Well, I’m going to do it now.” Then he pushed her legs further apart and lifted them, forcing Shayiza back onto the bed.

  It was Ryan’s turn to groan as he looked down at Shayiza’s swollen sex. Almost a virgin! he thought as he began to kiss down her thighs again. His eyes stared at Shayiza’s spread sex as his lips worked gently on one thigh and then the other. Now, he could clearly see her sex juice as it bubbled from between the swollen inner lips. Ryan could even smell her excitement. She smelled so sweet that Ryan’s mouth began to water.

  With an animal moan, Ryan dropped his head and brought his mouth to Shayiza’s pulsing sex lips.

  “Ahhhhhh! Oh my God!” Shayiza screamed as she felt Ryan’s lips and tongue on her sex. She had always wanted Ralph to do this but he refused. Sure, he wanted her to do him but he would never return the favor. Now she knew what she had been missing.

  Suddenly, it felt like Ryan’s mouth was everywhere at once. When his tongue penetrated her hole, fireworks began to go off in her head. Shayiza wanted to make the oral treatment last but it felt too good and almost immediately, her body began to tremble as her legs wrapped around Ryan’s neck and her hands grasped his head. “Oh yes! Oh yes!” she moaned as waves of electric shocks rocketed up her thighs and across her trembling body. “Ohhhhhh!” she hissed as a kaleidoscope of colors exploded behind her tightly closed eyes.

  Ryan’s face was deluged with fluid as Shayiza began to climax for the third time that night. He was shocked again at the speed and intensity of her climaxes. Still, he hung on and kept sucking as she bucked and screamed in pleasure. Even when Shayiza began to settle down, Ryan didn’t stop. He was relentless in his oral ministrations and he loved to please a woman this way. Sometimes he thought he could do this all night, forsaking his own pleasure.

  Shayiza kept moaning as her body responded to him with climax after climax. When she finally began to come down from her long climax, Ryan pushed her until she was lying in the middle of the bed. Then he crawled between her legs and brought his dripping mouth to her sex again.

  “Oh Jesus,” Shayiza screamed as Ryan began to suck her with renewed vigor.

  Twenty minutes later, Shayiza had to push Ryan’s head away or risk expiring. She had lost count of her climaxes after the first four or five. Having multiple climaxes surprised Shayiza. She typically experienced one climax during sex. This night was turning out to be a real education for her.

  Ryan wanted to warn Shayiza of his impending climax. However, when he tried to pull her head up, she pushed his hands away, moaning deep in her throat. “Oh God baby, I’m getting close,” Ryan moaned.

  Shayiza doubled her efforts, her lips sucking hard and her hand moving up and down the shaft rapidly. Now she was in a frenzy to have his juice. She found herself wonderi
ng what he tasted like. Her clients's sperm was sometimes bitter but she loved it nonetheless. She didn’t have to wait long to find out what Ryan’s tasted like.

  Ryan lifted his hips off the bed and bellowed as his sperm began to rush from the shaft and pour into her mouth.

  Shayiza swallowed quickly and then pumped his shaft, sucking for more. She was rewarded as Ryan squirted several huge volleys of cum into her mouth. Some of it escaped her lips and ran down the shaft under her pumping fist. Each contraction forced another large gob of sperm into her mouth and she swallowed it greedily. It was strong and thick but far from unpleasant. She almost giggled when she realized that she was eating him for breakfast. Not bad, she concluded and lots of protein too.

  Ryan moaned as Shayiza tried to suck more out of him. But, he was drained.

  When Shayiza could get no more juice from his balls, she contentedly sucked him until his shaft shriveled and she let it slip from her mouth. Then, she ran her tongue into his pubic hair, searching for what had escaped her mouth.