“The gaiafield is not something I could live without,” Mareble said quietly. “I can always sense Danal no matter where we are, even when we’re planets apart; that kind of permanent emotional connection is so satisfying and reassuring.”
“And of course we know Inigo’s Dreams. Intimately,” Danal said. He smiled with the placid bliss only the truly devout could achieve.
Araminta tried to replicate that mien of joy. “I didn’t know you could tell where a dream came from,” she said, hoping that would divert them from her tragic defect. There was nothing the devout of any sect or ideology enjoyed more than making the benefits of their belief obvious to outsiders.
“That’s the thing with the gaiafield,” Mareble explained earnestly. “It’s not all clear and precise like the unisphere. Human thoughts are not digital; they’re emotion. I had the feeling with the last few dreams of the Skylord; they were close to me. Now that the nests remember them, they’ve lost that aspect, not that they aren’t still wonderful. We’re all hoping that we’ll experience the Skylord flying to Makkathran to collect the Waterwalker’s soul. After everything he’s done for the people of Querencia—and us—he deserves to rest within Odin’s Sea.”
Something about Mareble’s evocation made Araminta pause, as if it connected with some old recollection. That was stupid. “I see,” Araminta said. Her knowledge of the whole Waterwalker epic was sketchy at best; she certainly did not know any details. “That’s why you want to live here?”
Mareble nodded eagerly. “I’m convinced the Second Dreamer is here. One day soon he’ll reveal himself, and then the Pilgrimage can begin.”
“Will you join it?”
They smiled at each other and clasped hands again. “We hope so.”
“Well, at the risk of being crass, you won’t find anywhere better to wait than here.”
“I think we can consider putting in an offer,” Danal said. “An uncomfortable number of our fellow followers are looking for property on Viotia. Living in a hotel is pleasant, but we’ll be happy to move into a real home.”
“That I can fully appreciate.”
“We’re prepared to offer you the full asking price, but we would need a guarantee that the apartment will be completed on time.”
“I can put my certificate on that file, yes.”
“And the virtual model we accessed; it was nice, but …”
“I want to make some changes,” Mareble said quickly. “The technology needs to be deemphasized, and the decor should be more naturalistic.”
“Naturalistic?”
“Less manufactured products, more wood. As it is on Querencia. We’re not against technology; we use it all the time, but it shouldn’t be featured. For instance, can you install a proper cooker in the kitchen? One with an oven and hob?”
“I’ll check city regulations and get back to you on that one.”
“So can you supply me with a proper cooker?” she asked Mr. Bovey that night over dinner. She was at his house, sitting at a small table on the balcony that overlooked the lawn. The river Cairns ran along the bottom edge where the mown grass gave way to shaggy reeds and a lengthy clump of coran twister trees that dangled chrome-blue fronds into the water. Bright lights in the buildings along the opposite bank glinted off the smooth black surface. It was a lovely relaxing ambience with a delicious meal several of hims had cooked and three of hims sitting with her, a pleasant end to an exasperating day.
“Actually, yes,” the handsome blond one said.
“You say that with such confidence.”
“Because I’ve already supplied three in the last ten days,” the shorter one with a dark complexion told her. “Living Dream fanatics do like their primitive comforts. They prefer water baths to spore showers, too.”
“Dear Ozzie, my cousin was right; they are taking over. I ought to raise the price on the last two apartments.”
“I don’t want to throw a damper on the evening, but I actually find that prospect quite disturbing. Mainly because it’s rapidly becoming true. There are a lot of them here now—millions.”
“I’d have thought the rush for housing will benefit you as much as me, probably more so.”
“Financially, yes,” the blonde said, holding up a kebab of spiced torkal and pork marinated in red honey. “But multiples don’t fit into the Living Dream ethos.” He bit into the meat and started chewing.
“We didn’t exist in Makkathran,” the Oriental one explained.
“Surely they’re not against your lifestyle, are they?” She had an unpleasant thought of how devoted Mareble and Danal were to their ideology, to the complete exclusion of just about everything else. That did not make them hostile, just unaccepting.
“Oh, never actively, no. Perish the thought. Their precious Waterwalker wanted everyone to live together and get along without conflict. But tell me this: How did your buyers react when they found out you weren’t sharing the glory that exists only within the gaiafield?”
“Surprised,” she admitted. “Then I think they wanted to convert me.”
“I bet they did.”
“It won’t last long,” she assured him. “As soon as the Pilgrimage starts, they’ll all flock away to join it. My couple told me that. They’re only here because they think this is where the Second Dreamer is hiding.”
“Which is equally disturbing.”
“Why?” she asked as she poured herself some more of the excellent rosé wine.
“If you’re the next chosen one, why hide? And more than that, why keep releasing the dreams that let everyone know you exist and are in hiding?”
“I don’t understand anything about Living Dream. The whole thing seems stupid to me.”
“The word you’re looking for is ‘dangerous,’ ” the short one said. “Too many impossible promises, too many people believing. Bad combination.”
“You’re an old cynic.”
All three of hims at the table lifted their wineglasses. “Guilty and proud of it.”
“You have gaiamotes. Are these second dreams real?”
“Is a dream real?” Three mouths grinned in unison. “The dreams exist. Everything else is down to personal perspective. If you want to believe in them, then the Second Dreamer is somewhere out there receiving dreams from a Skylord somewhere inside the Void. If not …”
“I don’t know what to believe. I’m almost tempted to get gaiamotes just to find out.”
“Take it from me,” said the blonde, “it’s not worth it. The gaiafield is just another fad that got hijacked by a bunch of fanatics.”
“Why did Ozzie invent it?”
“He said so that people could understand each other better. If we had more empathy, we would be more peaceful. Nice theory. Haven’t seen it having much effect on human nature recently.”
“Yet you wouldn’t exist without it. And you think you’re the future.”
The Oriental Mr. Bovey produced a modest smile. “True. And I doubt Ozzie envisaged us, either.”
She held her wineglass close to her face and dropped her gaze demurely. “I never envisaged you.”
“There’s a lot of things we don’t know about until we encounter them.” The Oriental Mr. Bovey pressed up against her and plucked the glass from her hands. She liked the warmth of him against her. On her other side, the blond one stroked her cheek and turned her unresisting head for a kiss.
She closed her eyes. Hands stroked her spine. Hands stroked her legs. The kiss went on and on.
“Come with me,” one of hims instructed.
The kiss ended, and she saw all three of him smiling in that way, gentle and knowing, not bothering to conceal his anticipation.
The three hims escorted her to a warm second-floor bedroom where the lighting was a cozy candle-flame orange. She stood at the end of the bed while they stripped in front of her, just the way she liked, making her the center of attention, the center of desire. Then it was her turn, removing her clothes slowly, showing herself off, drinking in t
he admiration from hims, exultant with approval. When she was naked, hes began to explore her flesh with formidable intimacy. “Yes,” she finally shuddered in delight, and they lifted her onto the bed.
Rushing headlong through space, the creature could feel stray molecules kiss its broad vacuum wings as it stretched them wide. Scintillations from the tenuous impact dripped from its trailing edge, leaving a weak contrail of fluorescence through the empty gulf. Ahead, a star gleamed bright against the glorious background of an undulating turquoise nebula, creating a warm pressure of photons that so very slowly supplied its physical nourishment. The creature spun leisurely in the rich torrent of light as it listened to the thoughts grow stronger on the solid planet that was still light-years away.
One thought was exceptionally clear. “You see, you have to rest now; if you were multiple, another body could simply carry on. The ecstasy would continue for hours. More bodies could perform at the same time; imagine that pleasure you’ve just experienced doubled, quadrupled, increased tenfold. Wouldn’t you like that? Wouldn’t your life be so much better, so much greater …” The thought dwindled away into the vastness as the solar wind cooled and dimmed.
There were only two of hims asleep on the bed when Araminta woke. She checked the time in her exovision and groaned in dismay. Five past seven already. There was so much to do in the third apartment today. The bots should have spent the night stripping the old tiles in the fifth apartment, but her u-shadow revealed that they had stopped work at three in the morning when they had encountered a problem their semisentient software could not cope with. She had two prospective buyers for apartment four arriving before noon.
“Great Ozzie,” she complained as she heaved herself out of bed. No time for a shower. She grabbed the clothes she had worn the previous night, which really were not everyday garments. Must bring a bag with some decent clothes for morning. Would he object to that?
She escaped the bedroom without waking the Mr. Boveys and scuttled down the stairs, raking fingers through awful strings of tangled hair. The smell of coffee and toast was permeating out of the big kitchen; it was sorely tempting given her body’s chill. I must ease off those booster aerosols. Surely a single minute spent with one cup of tea wouldn’t jeopardize the whole day.
She put her head around the archway to smile into the long open-plan kitchen diner. Five of hims were sitting at the breakfast bar, with another three lounging in the big old settee. “Hi—” The smile faded from her face. A woman was perched on the sixth stool at the breakfast bar, wearing a big fluffy toweling robe. One of hims had his arm around her, his hand lovingly massaging the base of her neck.
The woman glanced up from a big mug of steaming coffee and pulled a delinquent face. “Oh, hi there. I’m Josill. I guess I was being worn out by the half of hims you weren’t with last night. He’s good sex, huh? I managed four.” She grinned proudly at her entourage of Mr. Boveys.
Araminta managed to freeze her expression before she did anything petty like glare or pout or start shouting about what a useless pile of shit he was. “Right,” she said in a croak. “Got to go. People I’m honest with are coming to see me.” She headed for the front door as fast as she could without actually running, even managed to get outside. Her old carry capsule was resting on the gravel pad fifteen meters away.
“Just hold on.”
She turned. It was the body she had had that first dinner date with. He always used that one to talk to her when it was something serious, obviously working the whole age equals wisdom angle with maybe a little trust mixed in. “Drop dead,” she snapped. “All of you.”
“You knew I would date other women.”
“I—” She sputtered with indignation. “No! Actually, no, I didn’t! I thought we—” Some stubborn little part of her was trying desperately not to cry in front of him. What the point was with someone who knew her so completely eluded her. Still, she was not going to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much she cared.
“Listen to me.” He stood in front of her, taking a moment to compose himself. “You are a lovely, fantastic person. I haven’t met someone I was this attracted to in years. And I think you know that.”
“Well this is a—”
“Funny way of showing it? No. No. That’s a single person’s line, not mine.”
“How ridiculous,” she shouted.
“Maybe you’ve been trying to hide from this; I don’t know. Adjusting to multiple life does take time. It isn’t easy, and you’re upset.”
“I’m not upset,” she announced haughtily.
“I have a great time with you every time no matter where we go and what we do, and that’s the problem. Think on this. You are a wonderful healthy, strapping girl with a huge sexual appetite. Every man’s dream. And I’m always amazed and excited by how many of mes you take on when we go to bed. But not even you can physically satisfy thirty-eight male bodies every night. We’ve been going out all this time, and there are still some mes you haven’t met, let alone had sex with, yet. You get me all hot and randy, and every time you do that, the majority of mes are left frustrated.”
“I … Oh. Really?” It was kind of obvious when he explained it like that. But he was right; it really was not something she wanted to think through.
“I can only take so much. Josill and the others help release the pressure you create.”
Others. Again, something she did not want to consider. This whole multiple thing was turning out to be a giant complication. She took a breath and stared at the gravel around her feet. “I’m sorry. You’re right; I didn’t consider that part of it. It’s been so good for me, I just assumed it was the same for you. Singles thinking, huh?”
“Yes.” He put a hand on her shoulder. It comforted her, that whole wise and sympathetic thing. “But I’m hoping, really hoping, we can work through this.”
She gave the door a guilty glance. “I’m not sure I can get around the idea of you having sex with her as well. Were you … no. I don’t want to know.”
He raised an eyebrow and waited patiently.
Araminta sighed. “Last night, were you having sex with both of us at the same time?”
“Yes.”
A particularly malicious thought crept out of her mind. “And she could only cope with four?”
“ ’Fraid so.”
“Poor girl.” Her little spike of humor withered away. “I don’t know about this. I’m not sure I can cope. There would need to be so many women. That’s not part of a long-term relationship.”
“Listen, I said you were special right at the start, and the more I get to know you, the more I know that I don’t want to lose you.”
“So what do you do? Get half of you neutered? I really can’t … not thirty-eight.”
He grinned. “That’s my Araminta, considering it even now. But there’s another option, isn’t there?”
“What?”
He did not answer right away. Instead his hand touched her chin, tipping her head back until she couldn’t avoid staring into his eyes. Eventually she gave a defeated little nod. “I get myself some extra bodies,” she said in a quiet voice.
“I’m not going to browbeat. I couldn’t do that to you; it would be wrong. The decision has to be yours alone. I just want you to think about it. You’ve seen all the practical benefits firsthand, and I reminded you about the sexual advantages again last night.”
She fixed him with a firm stare. “Tell me: If I do this, would you stop dating the other women? Would it be just you and me?”
“Yes, emphatically, just you. Yous in my life, yous in my bed. Cross my hearts. I want this, Araminta; I want this so much. I wish you had gaiamotes so I could show you just how serious I am. We’ll just have to settle for registering it at City Hall instead.”
“Ozzie! A marriage proposal and a lifestyle change in one. And it’s not even half past seven yet.”
“Sorry you had to run into it like this.”
“Not your fault. You’re right;
I should have thought about this. So I’ll be a big girl and think about it properly now. Don’t expect an answer right away. This is a hell of a lot more than I’m used to dealing with in a day.”
His arms went around her, hugging tight as if he were the one seeking reassurance. “It’s momentous. I remember. So take all the time you need.”
He rode the gigantic horse for hour after hour, his young legs barely stretching over the saddle. In the distance were real mountains, their snowcapped peaks stabbing high into the glorious sapphire sky. He was leaving them behind, riding away from the forests that covered the foothills. It was wild veldt beneath the hooves now, lush tropical vegetation split by streams and small rivers. Trees from a dozen planets grew across the low slopes, their contrasting evolutions providing a marvelous clash of color and shape. Hot air gusted against him, heavy with alien pollen.
His friends rode beside him, the six of them shouting encouragement to one another as they wove around the knolls and ridges. None of them were yet adult, but they were finally old enough to be trusted out on their own. It was days like this, full of freedom and joy, that made sense of his life.
Then the cry went up. “The king eagles; the king eagles are here.”
He scoured the brilliant sky, seeing the black dots above the rumpled horizon. Then he, too, was yelling in welcome, his heart pounding with excitement. The horse ran faster as the noble lords of this world’s sky grew larger and larger.
Red lights flashed across the heavens. The king eagles elongated, black lines curving and twisting to form a gray rectangular shape. His horse had vanished, leaving him lying flat on his back. The red lights turned violet-blue and began to retreat as the top of the medical chamber opened. A face slid into view, peering down. He blinked it into focus. It was very pretty and heavily freckled, with a mass of dark red hair tied back.
“You okay?” Corrie-Lyn asked.
“Urrgh,” Aaron told her.
“Here, drink this.” A plastic straw was eased into his mouth. He sucked some welcoming cool liquid down his sore throat.
The Void Trilogy 3-Book Bundle Page 41