Swimming Through The Net
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by Angelia Sparrow
Category: Erotica/Gay-Lesbian Erotica/Science Fiction
Description: Net runner Shelby failed a run and was captured by The Wheelman. Now, he serves the Wheelman as an Immortal, a quadruple amputee kept alive by machines while his mind runs the Net, searching for bits of data, corporate secrets and access codes.
In the net, however, he is Swift-Current, a merman, and he has fallen for another Immortal, Mark, a Lovecraftian monster hunter. But the Wheelman is a jealous employer and wants no distractions for his servants...
Genres: Gay / Science Fiction / Futuristic
eBook Publisher: Amber Quill Press, 2011
eBookwise Release Date: November 2011
Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [33 KB]
Reading time: 16-23 min.
After Mark came, he would go out hunting. Maybe they would go together. Intrusion countermeasure programs, which he saw most commonly as sharks and rays, guarded the treasures of the sea. Swift-Current spared a glance for his trident standing in the corner. He could kill almost anything. The ice never stood a chance against his breaker programs.
A series of alarm bubbles, large and unpleasant, rattled him from his drowsing. He drifted over to the mirror and ran one webbed hand through his long green hair. He liked it long for the private moments. When he swam in search of data, he shaved his head for better motion. He picked up a comb of bone, inlaid with pearls, and used it. A touch of kelp made his lips greener. A bit of squid ink darkened his eyes.
He checked his gills and tipped them with some kelp, too. His tail was fine, he decided as he flicked an errant snail off his fluke.
He was ready to go when Mark came in. The other runner walked to the edges of his program, then dived in, coming up as a merman himself. His tommy-gun became a trident similar to Swift-Current's own, and his three-piece suit melded into a long silver body with rainbow-edged scales. The identity code read Deep-Dives. Swift-Current smiled. In Mark's program, he was listed as Senior Professor Shelby Randolf West.
"You look beautiful, like pearl and porphyry," Deep-Dives sang at him. The newly-made merman, his short black hair in wild disarray, his gills flaring with exertion, swam to him.
Their tails twined together and Deep-Dives embraced him. It had been weeks of objective time, much longer in the subjective world of the net. Mark, his own Deep-Dives, belonged to him here, and no one else.