by Mya Robarts
He stops the vehicle and without a word hands me a box. My jaw drops to the floor when I open it to find something that looks like … “Patriot clothes?”
He nods and descends the vehicle.
I gawk at the lilac halter neck dress. In pure Patriot fashion, the long skirt opens at the front. Purple, fingerless, elbow-length gloves, a purple satin belt, and tights complement the dress perfectly. Of course. If I want to enter Gyges, I’m supposed to look like a Patriot girl. In another box, there’s a pair of high heeled purple boots and to my embarrassment white underpants and a corset.
Where did he get his knowledge of women’s garments? I suspect that General Fürst has been more involved with women than he cares to admit. Perhaps that C.N. woman taught him. I don’t know why—and not for the first time—I feel a trickle of jealousy for a guy I’m not in love with.
Without the protection of the mountains, the winds become ruthless. Aleksey’s red cape is dancing wildly to the rhythm of the winds. I open the door and call to him.
He turns and looks up and down at me in that sensual manner of his. “Doesn’t my Lila look absolutely gorgeous?”
I smile and punch his arms. “Your Lila? Only in your most perverted fantasies.”
“Not really. In my most perverted fantasies, you’re naked.” It’s funny how this dangerous man is one of the few people who can make me laugh.
Aleksey leans in to adjust the buckles, effectively fastening me to the seat. I gasp when our faces get too close. I couldn’t get away if I wanted. Our closeness brings a maelstrom of electrical sensations. I don’t want him to hear the loud pounding of my heart, so I try to distract him. “They won’t let me in. I don’t have an identity tattoo.”
“I’m your identity tattoo.”
“A foreigner cop and a Nat? They’ll arrest both of us.
“They could try.” He says with a crooked smile as he tightens the last buckle. “There, you’re all tied up and have nowhere to run now. Mmm, the possibilities—”
My heart hammers painfully against my chest when he leans in, slowly. His breath washes over my face, causing a bolt of electricity to spread all over my body. I’m effectively trapped and paralyzed. I won’t be able to stop him from kissing me. I look up and receive the full force of his penetrating blue gaze.
I’m short of breath and shivers run down my spine. Well … maybe it’d be better to go with the flow. I close my eyes and lick my lips, waiting for his lips to press against mine.
But our lips never touch. Instead, I feel one of his fingers playing with my hair.
I open my eyes and can’t hide my disappointment when he leans back. His serious face shows a hint of smugness.
“For someone so young to have so many gray strands …” he says mischievously. Bastard! He knows I was eager for a kiss.
We don’t talk for hours. The roads are lonesome and in terrible shape. Other than soldiers, very few people risk the journey on roads full of bandits, tornados, and beasts.
The appearance of scattered buildings here and there tells me we’ll arrive soon. At that moment, the jeep shakes and a mechanical buzzing sound strains my ears.
Aleksey looks at me unfazed by the disturbance. “It’s Gyges dome. They’re getting it down because the weather is stable.”
When Gyges finally comes to sight, my jaw drops to the floor.
The skyscrapers shine in the distance, reflecting a blinding light. A circle of giant firs that rival the height of the skyscrapers forms a wall around the city, framing the revision post. A flashing billboard welcomes travelers and warns them to have their documents ready and their tattoos on full display.
I become anxious when we get closer. I’m dying to go inside those tree-walls. It’d be so disappointing to get turned down by the guardians at this point.
To my surprise, the jeep passes the revision points with no problems.
“Welcome to the City of Blinding Lights,” Aleksey says, brushing my gray strands aside with his enormous hand.
Chapter 34
For a small Patriot city, Gyges is breathtaking. I’ve seen Patriot cities in TCR’s old gadget, but visiting one is surreal. The skyscrapers get lost on their way to the clouds. They reflect the afternoon sunlight as though they’re made of glass. There are gigantic holograms that are almost the size of a skyscraper advertising all kind of products. There’s also political propaganda. A hologram of General Maximilian Kei towers over the buildings, soliciting support for the war efforts against the Nationalist armies.
Some holograms advertise the love district: a place that is full of repose-places where couples can have privacy. The ads are not too graphic, but they’re erotic and definitely tempting. How many couples are there doing what I’d love to do before recruitment?
Aleksey seems to be delighted by my awed exclamations. He chuckles whenever he hears an “oh!” escaping from my mouth.
“Enjoying the view, voyeur girl?” he asks in a deceivingly indifferent tone.
After Aleksey leaves a parcel in what looks like a UNNO office, he drives toward Gyges downtown and parks in an underground.
We are strolling an alley in what looks like a very commercial district. I’m taking everything in with no dignity whatsoever. Aleksey can’t hide his amusement at my childlike attitude. There are stores and game centers. The most recent models of jewelry-devices shine from garish storefront displays.
Gyges people are tall and beautiful in a plastic kind of way. Just as soldiers have gone through drugs and genetic modifications, Gygeans have altered their bodies through surgeries. There are plenty of women with crinoline wearing long dresses in gaudy shades of blue, orange, and fuchsia. Men wear outfits that resemble the army uniforms. Our wild long hairs contrast with their slick, stylized short hairdos. Some people stare at us; we must look foreign.
“Here,” he says, handing me his red cape.
“If I wear this they’re going to stare at me way worse.”
“So what? You’re shivering.”
I’ve been so distracted that I didn’t realize when the temperature dropped. In Gyges, the temperature changes are more violent than in Starville. No wonder Gygeans built a dome.
He stops his stride to scribble something in his journal before leading the way to a highly illuminated alley.
“Why are you always writing something?”
He shrugs. “Maybe I don’t want to forget.”
“Forget what? Is it military stuff you write in there?” Perhaps C.N. is a military term.
“Mostly.”
“Can I see?”
A look of irritation crosses his face. “No way. Not a chance, Lila.” I don’t get him. He gives me a bit of human touch by lending me his cape, then he acts as though I’m annoying him. If he doesn’t want to get questioned about his writing, he should reserve it for his alone moments.
He stops in front of a three-story building. “Let’s eat,” he grumbles and puts his hand on the small of my back to lead me in.
The restaurant is an octagon that rotates around an enormous column full of small screens. Each screen projects a live image of the most beautiful places in Gyges. We get a very private booth near a window. From here I have a great view of the alley below us.
Slices of fresh, sweet, juicy fruits that are impossible to get in Starville make me ignore the rest of the meat-based courses. Starville greenhouses produce plenty of fruits and vegetables, but we can’t keep them. I eat copiously and moan my appreciation for the food with each bite.
“Do you always make sexual noises while eating?” There’s not a single trace of humor in Aleksey’s voice.
“No, it’s not always that I have enough to eat,” I shoot back.
But as the meal progresses, I realize that my joy brings him satisfaction. He encourages me to eat more. I put my hand on my bloated stomach. I won’t eat the desserts. “I’m full. Can we take these courses to the clinic? My family will love them.”
Just then, a round of applause erupts in
the restaurant. A group of people wearing spectacular civilian clothes strut toward a booth. A standing ovation receives them. I almost drop my fork in astonishment when I recognize the tattoos in their necks.
Visitants.
Three women and three men. Probably sponsored by the people who are eating next to us, judging from the expensive-looking quality of their crinoline dresses and armors. They’re beautiful, tall, and extremely athletic. Visitants’ job descriptions include military drillings as they travel with the troops to satisfy their sexual needs. I wasn’t expecting this air of physical power and professionalism that the Starville visitants lack. They look more like warriors than prostitutes.
“They’re not recruits. They’re enlisters.” I say frowning.
For an experienced General like Aleksey, dealing with visitants must be as natural as breathing. He hasn’t bothered to look up at them. “How do you know?” he asks indifferently.
“They look well-groomed.”
Most recruits become vassals: sexual slaves with no sponsors. The troops think Nats are less than animals and treat recruits as such. On the other hand, visitants pay a service to the Patriot troops. They volunteer to take care of their sexual needs. In a way, they’re war heroes. The government doesn't pay them, but a myriad of donors sponsors them.
“They’re artificially beautiful,” I say admiringly.
“Top paid visitants are always surgically altered,” he says indifferently while the rest of the men in the restaurant are ogling.
“How’d you know?” They don’t look artificial to me.
He shakes his head as if saying: You really don’t want to know.
I stare at him defiantly. “Oh no, you’ll answer this one General Fürst. You leave most of my questions unanswered. I’m sick of that.”
He sighs. “Their breasts don’t bounce during sex.”
I look down at my fingers. It hits me at this moment how many sex facts I am ignorant to, how much he seems to know about those sex facts, and how that disparity makes him more attractive. And dangerous at the same time. I understand momentarily why Starville men are so obsessed with V-girls. If both of us were V-people, we’d learn at the same time. We’d be on equal ground, and I wouldn’t feel the pressure to be up to sexual standards set by someone else.
I look at the visitants again. They’re receiving the royal treatment. “I suppose you have been … um … familiar with a lot of visitants.” I immediately regret my words. That’s none of my business.
“Free visitant services are considered a perk of military life, but I told you. I don’t like to use visitants.”
“Why not? Let me guess. You don’t need them because you have a lover waiting for you in every town you visit.”
“No, we don’t fraternize with women of the countries we aid.”
“So you don’t have a sexual partner? Not even in Germany?”
“Not at the moment.”
At the moment? As if he has had plenty of flings in the past? Aleksey said that the visitant of his first night at the clinic was a one-time thing. And Tristan said that Accord missions are Aleksey’s first and only love. Yet, Aleksey doesn’t have a marriage tattoo and he’s a young, healthy man. He must have needs. I’m sure of all the women who throw themselves at him in Starville, he ought to have accepted one or two. Perhaps Elena? The thought makes me uncomfortable.
“How is it? Sex with visitants?”
He shoots me a brief look before turning his face to the window. “It’s cold. I’ve received more affection through a handshake.”
That makes me smile. “How so?”
Aleksey takes a sip from his flask. “Visitants services are mechanical, efficient, and satisfactory. In a way. But that kind of sex leaves some people feeling empty.”
“It’d leave me feeling empty,” I say, and his head snaps toward me. If I weren’t so busy rescuing myself, I’d try to save Aleksey from his solitary existence. He deserves to know the joys of a committed relationship. Like Joey and Divine.
He finishes the rest of his meal in brooding silence. We’ve eaten a lot, so the check is two thousand continentals. When it’s time to pay he hands his ring. J-devices are the only way to access money in the Patriot States. Accord Generals’ salaries must be high if he’s paying such a fortune without blinking.
As we head to the place where he left the jeep, I decide to ignore his mood and give more weight to his acts. He’s rough around the edges, but the reason my family is still alive and has a place to sleep is because of him. He has made time in his busy schedule to train me. And his bringing me here feels almost like a date.
As though this is a regular gesture between us, I hold his enormous hand.
He tenses. “I’m not the holding hands kind of person,” he says warningly but doesn’t pull away.
I grip him more firmly. “Neither I am. We’ll learn.”
It’s evident none of us are used to giving and receiving physical kindness. He hesitates a moment before squeezing my hand softly. After that, he keeps a firm clasp on it. He’s trying hard for me.
Do the people who stare at us think we’re a couple? I’ve never walked hand in hand with anyone before, and it feels wonderful. “Have you thought about my offer, Lila?” he asks casually as we reach the Jeep.
He drives his way to the love district where the round-shaped skyscrapers seem to reach the crystal dome. Gygeans aren’t prudes. Flashy holograms and billboards invite couples to come inside and have a “relaxing repose time” for an hour. Repose. Sex. It’s all the same. I look at the holograms with fascination. I feel a tingling sensation in my core when I imagine what’s happening inside the buildings. My voyeur side wishes I could see what they’re doing.
From the corner of my eye, I can see Aleksey watching me attentively as my eyes move nervously from one repose place to the other. When I gather the courage to look at him, goosebumps cover my skin. Because Aleksey is looking at me with a greedy expression. Remembering his proposal, I blush deeply. Has he brought me here to start my sexual instruction? The thought makes me fidget in the seat nervously.
“Are you ready Lila?”
He drives the Jeep into a discreet, underground parking spot. A repose-place entrance.
Chapter 35
“Ah! You promised we’d go slowly,” I say as I try to recover my breath.
“I couldn’t help it. I can’t think clearly when we are this close. And you can’t deny going fast can be stimulating.”
He’s demonstrated the correct use of the gear stick with speeds that should be illegal even in a highway. In this empty parking lot, under the metallic repose-place building, his speed is insane.
Following his instructions, I start the car.
“You’re ready to upshift now. Depress the clutch again and slot the stick into the second gear,” he says placing his enormous hand on mine to handle the gearshift. His skin on mine makes an electrical current travel all over my body. “Ease the clutch slowly. There it is! Good. Add a little bit of gas.” The manual transmission of military jeeps is not difficult to master. The military instrumentation that comes with the control table is another thing.
His hand shoots out to stop me from touching the panel buttons. “I’m not supposed to teach you how to harm Patriot vehicles.”
“You’re breaking the rules anyway. Teaching a Nat girl the functions of a technologically-advanced Jeep? That’s taboo!”
“Forbidden is good. Taboo is good.”
Sexual innuendos. This whole lesson has been full of them. Of all the places in Gyges where we could’ve started the driving lessons, he chose a repose-place parking lot. A ride in the elevator next to us and we’d be rising toward the sex-rooms. His intentions are clear, but I’m undecided.
After an hour of practice, driving becomes easier but I’m still distracted by sexual thoughts. It’s thrilling to think of what would happen if he rented a room. We’re sleeping together, but he promised he wouldn’t make anything sexual out of our sleep
ing arrangement. He didn’t say anything about a repose-place, though.
“I think I’m ready to drive a huge full section of the highway on our way back. Let’s go.”
I get down from the jeep so he can drive our way out. I’ve only walked some steps around the jeep when he takes my wrist and stops me. His intense expression electrifies every nerve.
“Come with me,” he says in an inviting, raspy voice.
Oh no! Does he intend to take me to one of the rent-by-the-hour rooms? A primal part of me screams its approval. The rational part of me needs to know him better before taking this step. Am I ready to have sex with a man who may hurt me? I’m not afraid of sex. But I worry about my not being able to stop him if I have second thoughts.
“Don’t overthink things, Lila.” Effortlessly, he pulls me off my feet and drapes me over his shoulder. This display of his strength to manipulate my body makes heated blood run all over my body. Before I know it, we’re in the elevators.
My surprise makes me stagger when the elevator doors don’t open into a repose room, but to a breathtakingly beautiful sight. An infinite, twinkling constellation of city lights extends before me, and the tallest metallic skyscrapers shine dazzlingly as though they were made of crystal. The sound of the wind clanking furiously against Gyges crystal-like dome becomes rhythmic. It’s almost like it’s playing a sensual melody.
Putting his colossal hand on my lower back, Aleksey leads me to a railing at the edge of the roof. I look down. A stunning arch bridge stands proudly over a glistening river. I realize then that he didn’t choose this building because it’s a repose-place where we could get intimate. He chose it because this building has the most beautiful view of the city below us. I can’t take my eyes off of the stunning sight, but I’m very aware of him so close to me. I feel his stare piercing through me.
A warm feeling spreads through me slowly. I finally turn to him. His gorgeous blue eyes burn through me. The words stick down my throat, struggling to come out. “Thank you for—” The driving lessons? Saving my life more than once? Bringing me here? “—everything.”