by Gabi Moore
His fingers returned to her breasts, teasing and plucking at the sensitive skin there, as he kissed her. Laova kissed back, enthusiastically; he tasted like… well, he tasted like summer. She could feel the sun and the rain on her tongue as his dashed over it, and his face near hers gave off radiance very much like sunlight.
One of his hands circled around and crushed her hips to his, and his hardness ground against her belly; she reached up and tugged blindly on the straps that held his trousers closed. He didn’t stop her. When the pants fell down his long, strong legs he stepped out of them easily and lifted Laova to carry her to the great mass of pillows and furs near the fire.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured against her mouth. His breath, too, had grown short. He was over her, holding his weight up on his arms as he gazed down at her naked body; Laova’s body was trembling with need, and he seemed to know it. “I had intended for this to be slow, and more careful.”
Laova moaned and reached up to hook his neck and bring his lips back down to hers. “Not slow—fast.”
“Not too fast,” he replied in a murmur. He kissed her, less gently than before. “Dear one, you have never lain with a man before, much less with a god. Be careful what you ask for.” His hands returned to her breasts, caressing, driving Laova mad with need.
His warning was a wise one, and Laova bore under his hands with it in mind, writhing, letting her hands drink in the shape and angles of his body to try and distract herself from his patience. His legs rested between hers, so close to where they needed to be… Laova inched upwards slightly, aligning herself with the very erect proof that he wanted her, as much as she wanted him, now, right now…
The Sky Father seemed amused and wise to her tricks. He slid down her body and Laova’s mind shambled apart again when he began working her nipples around his mouth, with his lips, his tongue. Now his abdomen pressed in the aching place where her thighs met, and it was not enough.
“Please,” she whispered. “I can’t bear this…”
The Sky Father kissed her again, and one of his hands reached down, pleasuring her until she gasped. “If you can’t bear this, how do you expect to bear me?”
She looked at him, and saw the humor in his face. She sighed, then gasped again at his hand’s tantalizing motions.
“Please,” she asked again in a shaking whisper. “You brought me here for this… don’t make me wait…”
“Dear one, you’ve waited only a short time for this,” he pointed out, lips against her ear. His breath was ragged, almost as ragged as Laova’s. “But I will do as you ask. Hold on to me.”
Laova did, desperately, and the Sky Father moved squarely between her legs. She felt it pressing against her, felt his hands help part the way, and then his hips were pressing against her legs and he was inside her.
It was everything she’d ever hoped. The Sky Father pulled back and thrust in again, and she cried out. Her very core roared agreement, and the Sky Father’s body pulsed and moved within her. Everything disappeared—she forgot about the people she’d known, and her village, and her harrowing journey up Star-Reach. Something in Laova’s mind opened fully, as if a window had been suddenly thrown open.
And suddenly, Laova knew what a window was.
Her climax twisted her and she felt as though she were breaking, but all the while, she saw things, understood things, that hadn’t existed a moment ago. The Sky Father lay within her, spent, breathing heavily in the aftermath of their hurried consummation. He looked down at her, curiously.
And Laova blinked, thinking. Her muscles were loose and swampy with languor, but that was all right. All of the sudden, she had a lot to think about.
***
“Laova!”
Taren kept shouting it, running back and forth as if she might suddenly appear without warning. “Laova!”
Exhausted, Nemlach leaned against a rock. She was gone. She’d just disappeared; along with the spirit lights. If he’d looked over the edge of the summit, Nemlach would have been able to watch the storm cloud below dissipate and dissolve, as well. As if its purpose had been served, it simmered out and vanished, leaving a glorious vista of the valley below.
But Nemlach closed his eyes. The air was still too thin here, and this was too much. She’d been right there, within his reach. What on earth had happened?
“What happened?!” Taren echoed his thoughts frantically. “Where is—she?!”
“I don’t know,” Nemlach answered weakly. “All I saw… was the light… she’s gone.”
“Gone?!” Taren was growing hysterical; his pale face was turning blue at the nose. Nemlach knew they’d have to get back down the mountain, and soon. “Gone? She couldn’t have just disappeared!”
“She did.”
“Laova!” Taren carried on. The situation was terrible, but to Nemlach that horrible fruitless shouting into the night was the worst of it. He couldn’t stand to hear it. He reached out and grabbed Taren’s arm.
“Stop it!” He shook the kid, until Taren wrestled away. “Stop it! She’s not here!”
“She has to be here… somewhere!”
“What are you not understanding? She’s gone!” Nemlach paused; they really had to get down from this mountain. They would both die up here slowly, otherwise.
Taren stood there, panting. “Nemlach,” he moaned. “She can’t! She has to, we have to… find her!”
“Look at yourself!” Nemlach insisted. “We can’t even breathe here!”
“You want to leave?” Taren asked in disbelief.
No, he didn’t. The truth was, Nemlach didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want to move from this spot again. He’d worked and labored to reach her, to save her. And at the last second, right out from his grasp… Nemlach didn’t want to leave. He wanted to lie down and die, freeze to die or suffocate, whichever came first.
“Yes,” Nemlach lied. “We have to… she wouldn’t want us to… die here.”
Taren opened his mouth, as if to argue.
A cringing zap of light and pressure enveloped them again.
It blinded him, just as it had the first time. Nemlach blinked, heart pounding, waiting for his vision to clear and for the night to reappear. Appear it did, slowly—Taren was blinking too, trying to get his sight back.
But there was a third silhouette, as Nemlach fought to see straight. The mountain summit was just as it had been, except for the addition of a familiar figure, standing just where he’d last seen her.
“Laova!” Nemlach saw her before Taren did, and ran instantly to her side, as he should have done the first time around. She seemed a little stunned, blinking in confusion. It was her face, certainly, just as she’d left…
But her black hair had turned white.
Nemlach stared at it; afraid his eyes might have been damaged by the light flashes. Taren had caught up now, and was standing beside them, staring openly at Laova’s hair.
“Laova! What happened?” he asked, still unable to stop staring.
She didn’t respond at first. Clearly disoriented, she clung to Nemlach’s arms.
“It worked,” she whispered. There was a ghostly look to her, both wistful and baffled. “I… I’m back.”
Nemlach hadn’t thought there was anything left that could possibly confuse him more. But then, without warning, Laova’s face crumpled, and she sobbed. Great tears froze on her face and he brushed them away carefully.
“Oh, Nemlach!” she cried, and let herself be gathered up into his arms. He hugged her close.
Nemlach froze.
Slowly, he pulled back. He hadn’t paid much attention to her clothes before; her hair was startling enough, if he needed more surprises after her abrupt disappearance and reappearance. But now that he looked, they were not the same as the ones she had left in. Similar, yes. They were made of hides and furs, and cut in a fashion that almost seemed… intentionally similar to what she’d had. This was not what had drawn his attention.
Laova watched him with great, dark,
unreadable eyes as he felt carefully down her abdomen, to her distended, very pregnant, stomach.
Just yesterday he’d lain beside her, touching her intimately, becoming familiar with all the lines and planes of her body.
This was impossible.
Taren stared, dumbstruck.
Laova stared into Nemlach’s eyes, waiting. Things had changed in her; it was obvious, now that the jolt of her sudden return was passed. Her face… she was older. Not, perhaps, in years, but in knowledge.
“Laova…” he whispered. Nemlach hadn’t meant to whisper. “Where have you been?”
Her lips parted, and Nemlach watched as doors closed in her heart at the very question. Sadness quieted her voice as she answered. “Many places. Oh, gods, Nemlach, many places.”
He laid a hand on her stomach. “How… long?”
“I don’t know,” she replied.
He glanced down at the swell of her belly; a prickle of hurt twisted inside him. “Who?”
Laova squeezed his arm. “A god. He goes by many names. But this is the child of a god.”
***
It was easier to descend from the mountain; without the storm, the only obstacle was occasionally slippery footing. It had been cloudy for days; they hadn’t been able to see the sky lighten over the past week, preparing to receive a reborn sun.
But as the three of them stood on the high slopes of Star-Reach, Nemlach holding Laova’s hand, watching her every step, the brightening sky unexpectedly broke open. A sliver of sunlight struck them, and after so long in the dark it was blinding. Except to Laova; it was as if she had been in a lighter place, where sunlight had never fled.
She looked out over the world that lay below, beneath scuttling clouds and towering mountains. It was a wronged and ravaged world, one that her people did not understand. She set a hand on her burgeoning stomach and thought that despite everything that had happened, perhaps all was not dark.
Not yet.
- THE END -
Chosen
A Sci-Fi
Medea drove her rental car to the top of the longest drive she’d ever seen in her entire twenty-five years in order to reach the dwelling at the top.
She couldn’t imagine the cost involved in the upkeep on the place; surely, it was beyond her pathetic pay grade with the agency. Right now, all she cared about was making sure this assignment went off according to plan. She needed to complete it and get credit if she would make the next pay grade. With all the cutbacks in the agency, there was a severe lack of upward mobility in the government body for which she worked.
The car sputtered and Medea worried the engine wouldn’t survive the trip to the top of the hill. Dammit, couldn’t they spring for some decent transportation?
She was certain her boss never had a problem with requisitioning the best car money could afford from the motor pool. Not that Mrs. Carpenter ever went out on an assignment these days. That queen bitch sat behind her desk and did her reports while the new hires, those lucky enough to pass the test and make the right connections, where sent out on a trial by fire to investigate foreign spies, local drug cartels and suspected dealers in sex slaves.
Medea, being part of the latter, needed the credits this mission would give her and she couldn’t afford to be choosey. The last two women who were tapped to do the mission quit rather than be sent into the Torzinite den of spies, saboteurs and flesh merchants. Well, the hell with them and their pedigrees. She was made of tougher skin and could handle this job. It would advance her to the next rank in her career, or so Mrs. Carpenter hinted when she called Medea into the office one week ago, humming a familiar, but annoying tune.
“You want me to do what?” Medea asked the older woman who sat behind the big desk in the enormous office. Jesus, did the government pay for all of this?
“Your president wants you to infiltrate the latest Torzinite ring we’ve uncovered,” she explained.
Mrs. Carpenter, who always wanted everyone to know that the “Mrs.” prefix was to be used, was a career officer who’d been a legend in her day. She found the first Torzinite cell before there was any formal contact between the aliens and humans. The word around the office had her busting their first operation when she found out the human traffickers were about to ship her into outer space and not to the kingdom of some oil rich human dictator. No one ever did find out how she discovered her final destination, but the evidence she brought back to the agency came very close to starting an interplanetary war.
“Another group of Torzinites?” Medea asked. “Isn’t this the sixth one this year?”
The news media was full of stories of young, impressionable women seduced into the arms of strong men who turned out not to be human. By the time they woke up, the silk sheets were gone and they were in chains with an ownership number tattooed on their ankle. It was hard to prove the sale wasn’t “voluntary” at that stage. Before they could voice a complaint, most of them were in the harem of some off-world warlord.
“I think we’ll find more if you get inside this one and discover where they’re stashing the women they buy,” she told Medea. “I met with the president last night and he wants more evidence of treaty violations. We bring it to him, he can slam it down on the negotiation table and show the other governments the aliens are violating every point of the treaty the UN signed five years ago.”
Once the presence of aliens on Earth was made clear to the other nations, the outrage almost gave the United Nations full war powers. The aliens were accused of exploiting innocent and impressionable women who wanted a better life. Several governments nearly went down in revolutions when it came to light that the ministers were paid to look the other way while the Torzinites shipped women to their distant star system. When the knowledge went public, three orbital stations identified as belonging to the aliens were destroyed by missiles before the crew could evacuate. The Torzinites demanded payment and compensation for their losses. They claimed no human women were taken off world without due process. They claimed they had to work in secret because the humans didn’t want them on their precious soil.
Both species were locked in a dead heat over the presence of the Torzinites on Earth. The aliens wanted the women; the humans needed their technology. Early contacts between the two were productive, but the good feelings between them evaporated when the nations of Earth found out what the aliens really wanted. The Torzinites were from a planet where the female part of their race was a rare thing due to a genetic abnormality. It had taken place thousands of years ago. The ratio of women to men was in the nature of one thousand to one. When the aliens discovered Earth, they found a goldmine. No longer would whole nations fight each other to the death over the dwindling supply of women. Best of all, the two species were compatible and Torzinite men could produce children with human women. It should have solved both species’ problems.
But it didn’t.
The Torzinites found it was easy to obtain working-class human women for the right amount of funds and did so without telling anyone. The women they obtained could live lives of luxury on the home worlds, but enough of them wanted to return to Earth to cause a problem. When the governments of Earth found out what had taken place, they were outraged. The immediate return of all terrestrial women was demanded or war would be declared. The Torzinites claimed the human women taken off world were happy and saw no reason to comply. A treaty was eventually signed after a Torzinites trading post on the moon was destroyed by a nuclear weapon. It later turned out the trading post housed two hundred women from Earth awaiting transfer to the Torzinite home worlds.
In the aftermath of the catastrophe, a delegation from each species negotiated a treaty in terrestrial orbit. A set number of human females would be allowed to travel to the Torzinites worlds in return for access to alien technology. No Torzinites presence would be allowed on Earth. If one were discovered, it would be grounds for war.
“They are risking another war for this?” Medea asked her director, smoothing out her s
kirt as she sat in the chair. “Do they want to lose all access to women from Earth?”
“We don’t think the governments in their home worlds have full control over these posts,” Mrs. Carpenter told her. “It may be smugglers. Remember the ratios they claim? Each woman they can send back pays for the trip many times over. We may be two women on the street here in Philadelphia, but to the Torzinites, we’re made of silver.”
Medea pulled the car over to a full stop in front of the mansion at the top of the hill.
If the trade in human wives was as good as they suspected, the Torzinites were spending their money to attract new prospects. They had video evidence proving that the aliens were scouting through the poorer sections of the cities under the guise of “overseas” recruiters for domestic jobs. They prized women with a reasonable amount of education and virgins brought a premium on the market. One lady who was recruited before college returned to her family on Earth loaded down with gifts and cash. But just as many of the others were bored in the home worlds and found a reason to come home. Mistreatment and deceit were two reasons for the ban.
A manservant took the car from Medea as she stepped out.
She adjusted her business jacket. Her cover was of a recently divorced woman interested in the job advertised on-line for a hostess on a cruise liner in Italy. The agency tapped the ad as a front for an alien recruitment firm when they investigated it and found out that the cruise line was bogus. She was wired for sound and video with the best recording devices the agency could afford. This would be the crown of the investigation and would provide the executive branch with what it needed to return to the beginning table. If the aliens wanted human women so much, they could damn well pay in gold.
“Mr. Eglise will see you in the foyer,” the servant said to her as she handed him the keys. “My name is Simon and I will park your car for you. The interview should last only an hour and if you decide not to take the position I will bring the car around.”