She was in bed when I returned, her hair spread out over the pillows and her pale blue skin contrasting erotically with the gold sheets. I pulled off the covers and practically threw myself onto the bed. She came eagerly into my arms and we kissed. I had intended to control myself and start slowly. The kiss dispelled that illusion. She pressed her lips against mine and thrust her tongue into my mouth. Her arms circled my neck and her body writhed sinuously against mine as she kissed me long and hard and passionately.
“Forgive me. I need you. I need you now. Take me hard. Make babies in me.” Her voice was husky with lust.
I rolled on top of her. She smiled up at me and I lost myself in her eyes. I began to move, sensing her need almost subconsciously. We didn’t speak. We didn’t need to. It was as if I was a horse and she the rider. All the guidance I needed was contained in the subtle movements of her body. Gone was any illusion of a delicate porcelain doll. Beneath me was a hot, willing woman into whom it would be my duty, my privilege and my pleasure to discharge my seed. I don’t know if something of my thoughts showed on my face but her eyes widened fractionally and her mouth formed a small ‘o’. Suddenly she was no longer the gentle equestrienne but the racing jockey demanding everything from her mount as they hurdled the last fence in the Grand National and thundered into the finishing straight. Jockey and mount weren't quite in sync but we were close.
I felt like I’d just run the Grand National and, looking at the blissful expression on her face, felt I’d won it, too.
Her eyes flickered open. “Lie on me for a little while,” she murmured.
I lowered myself onto her. She slipped her arms around my back and hugged me.
“You’re sweet,” she murmured.
I gave a half rueful laugh. “Hardly the most flattering of compliments considering where we are but I’ll take it as it was intended.”
She pouted crossly. “You’re making fun of me.”
I nibbled her neck. “Just a little. You’re sweet too… as well as being breathtakingly beautiful and indescribably sexy.”
“You think I’m sexy?”
“Of course I do. You shouldn’t need to ask.”
She sighed. “No. I saw the way you looked at me when I took my clothes off.”
“It wasn't just that. It was the way you acted, too.”
“You mean flirty?”
“Yes, but more than that. You acted like you wanted me to make love to you.”
She smiled. I was at once beatific and lustful. “And we did make love, didn’t we?”
“As opposed to having sex? Yes.”
“D’you think you could do it again? After all, you’re supposed to get me pregnant.”
“I could do it forever and a day. It may take a few minutes till I’m ready, though.”
“Does this help?”
She pulled my head down and kissed me, thrusting her tongue into my mouth. At the same time she sort of undulated beneath me. It helped. The second time wasn't, perhaps, as good as the first but it came pretty close. We fell asleep wrapped in each other’s arms.
Chapter 11
I was awakened by someone knocking loudly on the door. Blearily, I rolled out of bed and searched for a robe.
“Whassamatter?” Cherevine said, opening one eye.
“No idea. Someone at the door,” I croaked.
It was Honesty-in-Trust, Sir Devoted-Acolyte and Sir Hlawch. They were not looking happy.
I ushered them in and went to make coffee. My brain managed to function sufficiently to find Orodian tea on the menu and I thought I remembered that Cherevine had drunk it neat at the restaurant last night. I took it to the bedroom past the three men’s astonished stares.
“Help yourselves,” I said as I passed.
“Who is it?” Cherevine asked. “Oh, tea. How sweet of you.”
“My lawyer, the Breeding Director and my minder. Trouble, in other words. My pleasure.”
“I’ll get up.”
“Drink your tea first.”
My communicator sounded and it took me a moment to remember it was still in my jacket pocket which was in the wardrobe.
“Sir MacAdam? This is Yendlis Elegan from Zofi-Brennan Intergalaxy. I tried to contact you yesterday but you weren't available.”
“Yesterday? Sorry, I was rather occupied yesterday.”
“No matter. The thing is, I wanted to make an appointment for you to visit. Mr Simpission is anxious to meet you and show you your new ship.”
“Ship? Oh, yes. I remember now. You were supposed to call yesterday to make an appointment for today.”
“I did try to call yesterday.”
“Yes. Sorry. I didn’t mean to imply you hadn’t only that I failed to receive it. Do you still want me today?”
“If it’s at all possible, Sir. I know you’re very busy…”
What a pleasant change from the bullying demands of the Commission.
“I had you on my itinerary for today so that’s fine. What sort of time?”
“Would mid-day be convenient?”
“Mid-day? I glanced at Sir Hlawch who nodded. “Mid-day would be fine.”
“Thank you sir. Lunch will be provided.”
I remembered something. “I was told you might want me for some publicity. Is that likely to be today?”
“Sir Simpission will be presenting you with your prize so we would appreciate a record of that. We’ll organise the main publicity at a later date, if that’s all right?”
“No problem. Now, how do I find you?”
“Find us, Sir?”
“How do I get to your offices or factory or whatever?”
“That might be slightly difficult, Sir,” the voice was amused. “We’re in orbit.”
“What? Oh, of course. Silly me.”
“A car will pick you up at ten thirty.”
“Ten thirty?” Another glance at Hlawch and another nod. “That would be fine.”
“We’ll see you later then, Sir.”
“I’m looking forward to it. Now that…” I added as I closed the communicator, “…is what I call polite.” I looked meaningfully at Hlawch.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m to meet Sir Simpission at mid-day. Sir Simpission isn’t going to re-arrange his schedule just because I don’t like mid-day so mid-day it is. That’s understood. The lady could have said, ‘you’re meeting Sir Simpission at mid-day. Be there.’ That's how the Commission would have done it. Instead she politely asks me to attend and informs me the lunch will be provided, and transport, and that there will be informal pictures or whatever taken. I know what’s going to happen and I know, therefore, what to expect. As a result, I feel happy and positive about it. Now what can I do for you gentlemen?”
Devoted-Acolyte and Hlawch looked at each other as if the idea had never occurred to them.
“Geretimal to Crawford. Are you receiving me? You called me last night. Remember?” Honesty-in-Trust said.
“So I did. I was not happy. Not happy at all.”
“I sort of gathered that. That’s why we’re here.”
“Yes. Well, the cause of my unhappiness has changed a bit. Now I’m mostly unhappy about the poor girl that dumped in here last night like a prisoner from Cell-block H.”
“What?”
“Like she was being condemned to death or something worse.”
At that moment, the poor girl in question floated out of the bedroom in one of the gold-coloured robes provided by the hotel. Her hair was a dark nimbus around her pale blue face and the look on her face was of the proverbial cat that ate the cream.
“Good morning, Sirs,” she said, cheerily. “Don’t mind me.”
She floated off to the kitchen. All eyes followed her. The three visitors exchanged looks then looked at me. I shrugged.
“Now there’s a girl who looks well… bred,” Honesty-in-Trust said in an admiring tone.
Cherevine stuck her head out of the kitchen. “I heard that and I was. Can I get you s
ome breakfast, Crawford?”
“A bowl of cereal would be nice, thanks.”
I detected a gleam in Devoted-Acolyte’s eye. Perhaps he was sensing that his breeding programme might just turn out to be a success.
“Don’t be fooled, Sirs.” I continued. “It’s only because Cherevine… Madam Zvachnica is a very special lady that anything happened at all.”
“You’re sweet,” the lady in question said as she passed a bowl over my shoulder. “I couldn’t read your barbaric language so I’ve given you some Orodian cereal.”
“Thank you, dear. I’m sure it’ll be delicious.” I waved the spoon at my visitors. “Would you believe the… female who was guarding her didn’t even know she came from Orodia? I don’t think she’d ever talked to Cherevine.”
“She hadn’t,” Cherevine said from the table. “Since I arrived, Crawford was the first being who seemed genuinely interested in me as a person.”
“Erumph, yes,” Sir Devoted-Acolyte said sheepishly. “Madam Holiness-Personified is no longer employed by the Commission.”
“Ha. Now, I apologise but I’m going to ramble for a minute. Honesty-in-Trust, should I give the full story?” He nodded so I gave them a potted account of my encounter with Inner-Piety and how, from that, he and I had discovered that my contract had been deliberately corrupted. “You’ve since discovered yourself, Sirs, that the breeding programme is not immune either.”
Sir Devoted-Acolyte looked grim.
“So that’s why you weren’t surprised?” Sir Hlawch exclaimed.
I nodded and frowned. “The problem is that I haven’t been able to see beyond that. I’ve seen everything I didn’t like as being further evidence of a conspiracy. It wasn’t until last night that I realised that. Now I’d assumed that the purpose of last night’s meal was to allow Cherevine and me to get to know each other. Because it wasn't I was all set to cement my reputation as a truly uncivilised barbarian. Cherevine persuaded me to calm down and use my brain. When I did I realised my assumptions had been wrong and that it was a publicity stunt… something neither of you gentlemen saw fit to tell me, despite the fact we discussed the issue, you may recall. What’s more, the restaurant owners had to pay a very large bribe to be the preferred venue. To be fair, they pulled out all the stops and the meal was better than good.”
I paused and looked at each of them in turn.
“Gentlemen, I ask you… for the good of the Lottery and the breeding programme… please stop treating us as stupid, ignorant savages. Talk to us. Discuss your plans with us. Tell us what you want and what’s expected of us. We’ll co-operate. That’s what we’re here for. But, for the sake of all the gods, stop treating us like we were your property.”
“Thank you, Crawford,” Cherevine said in an emotional voice. “For what it’s worth, Sirs, I agree with every word. Crawford’s right. I’ve never been treated so abysmally in my life. If this hadn’t been the Lottery I’d have walked out ages ago. Bluntly, if my parents ever find out the humiliation and abuse I’ve been subjected to… well, I dread to think what they’d do.”
“Yes, well, I can only apologise, Madam Zvachnica, and assure you that Madam Holiness-Personified is no longer in our employ.”
I sighed. “You still don’t get it, do you? Madam Holiness-Personified isn’t the cause of the problems, she’s a symptom. She may have overstepped the bounds but her actions, as with those of Sir Inner-Piety, carried the tacit sanction of the Commission. These beings… and probably dozens of others… are merely extreme cases of the attitude that comes from the very top of the Commission. It’s not the Madam Holiness-Personified’s of the world that are the problem, it’s the system that allows them to flourish that’s the problem. And that system is managed by you, Sir, and the Board of Commissioners. I’m sorry to be so blunt but we don’t have time to play games.”
Devoted-Acolyte was building up a nice head of steam.
“Let me paint you a picture. You are married?”
“Why, yes.”
“Then think back to the day you proposed to your wife. You probably gave it some consideration. You wanted her to say ‘yes’ so you chose carefully the time and the venue?”
“Yes. I suppose I did.”
“Now imagine that, on that day, your boss had been a pain all day and you’d had an emergency which meant you had to work late. Further imagine that, on the way home, there was a problem with the traffic ibic and you were held up for an hour. Further imagine that, when you finally arrived home, you discover that… I don’t know… a tree in your back garden has fallen down and damaged your house… something like that. Finally, imagine that your intended has had a similarly stressful day. Now, tell me, what are you both feeling? Romantic? Happy? Excited?”
“Most certainly not. I should be feeling extremely tense.”
“So, are you still going to pop the question or are you going to postpone it to another day when both of you are feeling more relaxed?”
“Hmm. Well, I would probably postpone it.”
“Exactly. Well, what you put Cherevine and I through last night was a good deal worse than the picture I painted. Only we didn’t have the option of postponing things till a better day. We were obliged to ‘perform’. You and everybody else made that quite clear.”
“But you did ‘perform’.
“God give me strength. What does it take to get through to you? We are sentient beings, not mechanical toys. We have feelings and needs just like you. The fact we were able to ‘perform’ last night is a happy accident, nothing more. We were able to perform despite the evening’s fiasco not because of it. That's the point I’m trying to make. Everything I do here that succeeds does so despite the obstacles you keep throwing in the way. I’m having to fight and struggle for everything because you will not accept that we are sentient beings whose wishes need to be taken into account. What’s the time?”
“Nearly ten,” Honesty-in-Trust said.
“Shit, I need to get ready. I was in a really good mood when I woke up. Now the last thing I want to do is go and looked at a stupid bloody spaceship. Can somebody please talk some sense into this man?”
I stomped off to the bedroom leaving an embarrassed silence. When I emerged, Hlawch was talking earnestly. I didn’t hear what he was saying because reception rang to tell me my lift was here. Cherevine kissed me briefly but thoroughly as I left. I hoped I would see her again. It was Honesty-in-Trust who told me later what transpired.
There was an awkward silence. Devoted-Acolyte was looking as if he might explode at any second but Hlawch was looking thoughtful. Cherevine disappeared to dress and pack. After several minutes of awkward silence, Devoted-Acolyte muttered some disparaging comment and started to stand. Hlawch looked up with a determined expression on his face.
“Actually, Sir, I think Sir MacAdam has a point.”
Devoted-Acolyte ranted and raved for a while but Hlawch just kept looking stubborn. When Devoted-Acolyte finally ran out of steam, Honesty-in-Trust asked Hlawch why he’s changed his mind.
“It was Sir MacAdam’s illustration. It reminded me of a personal experience. When I was younger I was very much in love with a certain young female. I was convinced it was true love and decided I wanted to marry her. As Sir MacAdam suggested, I set up the occasion very carefully. My love was passionate about dancing so I obtained tickets for a prestigious dance show to be followed by a romantic dinner. I’m not fond of dancing so I found the show boring but my friend was enthralled and very grateful that I’d managed to get tickets. I had high hopes when we went to the restaurant. Everything was perfect; the setting, the meal, the atmosphere, and I waited for exactly the right moment to pop the question. I never did. My girlfriend spent the whole meal re-living the dance show. Every move was analysed and commented on. By the time we left, I was practically asleep. I’m afraid I was a bit abrupt when we parted and we broke up soon after.
“The point, Sirs, was that she and I had completely different expectations. I hadn’t tol
d her how serious I was so she saw it as a treat. She, by the way, did not feel for me what I believed I felt for her. I didn’t ask her if she wanted to go to the show, I just took her. I didn’t tell her why I was taking her, either. I just expected her to react the way I wanted. When she didn’t I was disappointed.
“It’s the same with Sir MacAdam. We don’t ask him if he’ll do something, we tell him. We don’t tell him what we expect of him or why we want him to do things, we just assume he sees things the same way as we do. It’s the same with the young ladies.”
“Forgive me, Sir Hlawch,” Cherevine said. She’d heard the last part of his speech. “It’s exactly the opposite with the young ladies. We’ve been told exactly what to do and say in every circumstance, in every situation, on every occasion. We’ve spent weeks rehearsing this scenario to that scenario. Would you believe there’s even a right way to get out of bed after sex?
“Now, I don’t believe that Crawford wants to meet twenty-three mechanical dolls. What he wants is to meet twenty-three exotic and attractive girls who will beguile him and seduce him and encourage him to want to make passionate love to them. And you don’t do that by following a manual.”
Devoted-Acolyte threw up his hands in surrender. “Very well. In the face of such concerted opposition, I’m forced to concede. But I can’t very well re-organise the whole programme on the whims of the Lottery Winner.”
“I don’t think you’ll have to, Sir,” Cherevine said. “When he’d calmed down and realised, as he said, that the restaurant visit was a publicity stunt, he supported it whole-heartedly. You’ve heard what he did, I take it?”
“No.” Devoted-Acolyte was apprehensive, fearing another revelation but Hlawch and Honesty-in-Trust were grinning.
“After the meal, he summoned the chefs, gave them a standing ovation and made a speech thanking them and the restaurant for their efforts.”
“He didn’t?”
“He did,” Hlawch said. “We recorded it. It was superb. Sir MacAdam did us proud. The less hostile media have been full of praise about how he handled the press conference though, I have to admit, somewhat less flattering about us, and word has it that the speech Madam Zvachnica mentioned will be featured in the mid-day news bulletins. Several companies have already approached us for interviews and several hundred organisations are clamouring for Sir MacAdam to visit them.”
I Won A Spaceship Page 24