When Khan had settled her, he vaulted onto the horse behind her. Grasping leading strings in one hand, he settled the other at her waist. Dionne tried to ignore the hand. She also tried to ignore the groin plowing into her buttocks, but it was difficult since the bouncing gait of the horse bumped them together, made more difficult by the hard erection he developed within moments.
It’s erectile tissue, she chastised herself. Blood flows to it, engorging it and making it harden and stand erect in reaction to stimuli. It’s involuntary, like my nipples, and not something to be disturbed about. It could mean a lot of things besides lust.
The hand upon her waist kept slipping lower and lower until it was resting along the top of her thigh, however, and she couldn’t convince herself that that was an accident. Gritting her teeth, Dionne grasped his hand and moved it to her waist once more. The second time his hand landed in her lap, Dionne swiveled around to look up at him suspiciously.
He gave her a questioning look, but there was something in his eyes that suggested she was right. The incident was not accidental. She moved his hand to her waist again.
He slipped it from the curve at her side to the center of her stomach, splaying his palm over her belly and pulling her snugly back against him until his erection was plowing the cleft of her buttocks. Dionne’s belly executed a strange little flip flop. The distinctive heat of desire swirled inside of her.
She cleared her throat uncomfortably. “This is not--not allowed.”
His hand slipped lower until his fingers tangled in the curls at the apex of her thighs, the tips lightly brushing her nether lips. Dionne’s heart skittered to a halt and then began to beat rapidly.
“Not permitted,’ she said shakily. “Forbidden?”
“Why?”
His voice was husky. The heat of his breath wafted along the channel of her ear, stirring nerve endings to life. His fingers slipped lower and Dionne found she was having trouble breathing as one thick finger parted her flesh and brushed lightly along her clit.
She was having even more trouble thinking. “I am the arc of humanity,” she managed finally. “One of the--uh--chosen. Even--even if I wanted to,” she said unsteadily, which she discovered with more than a little surprise that she did, “I couldn’t.”
After a brief hesitation, his hand slid upward. Dionne had just managed to drag in a breath of supreme relief when his hand kept going, settling finally, possessively, over one breast. He placed his mouth over her ear, tracing the contours of the shell lightly with his tongue. A cascade of delight showered her, every nerve ending from her neck to her toes coming to attention. “Why?”
“You wouldn’t understand. I can’t explain it so that you would understand,” she said a little desperately.
His hold loosened slightly. “Try.”
There was anger in his voice now. Dionne licked her lips, but her mind was chaotic and she realized she was hardly up to using the terms familiar to her. She couldn’t think of a simpler way to say it. “I am a bio-engineered superhuman. Each of the eggs I carry in my body is specifically designated as a match for only the finest specimens this time has to offer. Each has a specific DNA code that represents the preeminent minds the world of my time had to offer. My primary mission is to help to seed the Earth with the life forms necessary to ensure the resurrection of mankind’s civilization by yielding the genius of it’s past.
“No man can be allowed to touch me unless he meets the criteria set forth by the founders of the resurrection project.
“It is why I was designed. It is the primary reason that I am here.
“I can not belong to one man. I belong to mankind.”
She couldn’t believe that he could possibly have understood half of what she’d said, but his hold upon her loosened and, to her immense relief, his hand settled lightly along the curve of her waist once more. She didn’t look back at him. She didn’t have to to know that he was angry. The tension that had come upon him as she spoke told her that.
Uncomfortable with his anger, she searched her mind for something to say that might smooth matters between them. “I--regret anything that I may have done that led you to believe....” She broke off. “I’m sorry if I--if I made you think....”
He didn’t respond and she allowed the half finished sentence to trail into silence, wondering why she had even tried to explain something he couldn’t possibly understand.
“I have not asked you to be my woman,” he said after several moments of uncomfortable silence.
Chapter Four
Embarrassment filled Dionne at that remark and she felt her face redden, but relief filled her, too--and, surprisingly, a good deal of regret. Khan appealed to her in many ways and she seriously doubted there was any man living that would appeal to her more. As sorry as she was that things were the way they were, though, she knew how vitally important her mission was, and she had accepted the role she would play in this new world. She couldn’t simply discard it at whim.
She threw him a smile over her shoulder that was only slightly forced. “No, you hadn’t, and I see that I misunderstood. Well! I’m glad that’s out of the way.”
Regardless of her efforts to smooth the situation over as diplomatically as possible, she couldn’t help but be aware of the awkwardness that had arisen from it. They made the remainder of the ride in silence that wasn’t at all comfortable.
Dionne managed to dismiss it from her mind only when they at last reached the village. To her disappointment, however, the moon was setting and there was not enough light to see much detail. The structure Khan took her to was like all the others surrounding it as far as she could see, though, and much the same size, and she found that she was anxious to study it.
The animal skin that covered the doorway wasn’t very promising.
Her excitement plummeted.
Once they were inside, Khan lit the room with a lamp that appeared to be a pottery bowl filled with some sort of fat. Sadness filled her as the dull glow chased the shadows into the corners and she looked around for the first time. After centuries of struggling to build a civilization of such promise, nature had overcome after all, pitching them back to their beginnings.
The structure appeared to have been constructed of mud and sticks. The floor of the lodge was nothing more than hard packed dirt, covered with mats here and there that appeared to be made of woven weeds of some variety. In the center of the lodge a ring had been formed with stones and, as Dionne watched, Khan arranged wood in the center and set fire to them. Looking up, she saw that there was a smoke hole in the roof of the structure--not even a chimney.
Sighing, she glanced around for a place to sit. She should not have been tired after ‘sleeping’ a thousand years, but the uncomfortable ride on the back of the horse had seemed to drain her of energy.
Or maybe it was the magnitude of her task?
Finding a mound of furs along one wall, she sat down on it, drawing her knees up and propping her back against the wall of the lodge as she idly studied the implements and tools that she could see, only dimly aware of Khan as he built the fire and moved a clay pot, which she supposed contained food, close to the heat.
This scenario had been considered a possibility, but unlikely. The devastation wreaked by catastrophic natural disasters would have caused a break down in governments, military, all services, the loss of power and fuel. Pockets of survivors would have been isolated and forced to survive as best they could on what ever could be found, but even after widespread destruction and loss of life, there should have been food stores to feed the survivors for many, many years, and along with those stores of food there should have been many other things--the building blocks of civilization, things that could have been gathered and used to bring order again.
Perhaps there had been. Maybe after the worst had passed, the survivors had scavenged and found the remains of their civilization and lived off of it while they could, but it was obvious they had done nothing else. There could not have been much
of a push to regain what was lost or civilization would not have continued its spiral downward until it reached bottom.
She pushed that thought aside.
This was not ‘bottom’. It might be close in her eyes, but they had established communities, leadership, family units, made tools, domesticated animals, begun processing natural materials into useful household items.
She wondered about the shield and sword that Khan carried, however. Aside from those, she saw nothing that indicated these people had re-learned metallurgy.
“You found those,” she said abruptly, trying to tamp the hopefulness that surged through her, realizing almost at once that they might be nothing more than scavenged materials from a civilization long dead.
Khan turned to look at her and then followed her gaze. After a moment, he returned his attention to what he had been doing near the fire. “Yes.”
“Where?”
He said nothing for several moments. Finally, he rose and moved to one wall. Taking a garment from a hook, he approached her and dropped it into her lap before he settled on the skins at a little distance from her.
Dionne lifted the garment and studied it in the flickering light. It was very simply made and constructed out of some sort of animal skin. The pungent, but not unappealing scent of leather tickled at her nostrils. Her first thought was that it was a short shift, but she’d seen nothing to indicate he lived with a woman and finally decided it was simply a tunic--his tunic. He was big enough that she discovered once she’d pulled it over her head and adjusted the tunic, though, that it was fully long enough to fit her like a shift, reaching halfway down her thighs.
Smoothing a hand over the tunic, she sent him a grateful smile. “Thank you.”
He nodded without glancing at her, his gaze focused on the dancing fire. “I found the shield and shinning long knife in the forbidden lands.”
Dionne sucked in her breath sharply at that. “Forbidden?” she gasped.
He nodded. “The Speakers tell that evil dwells there, strange beasts and stranger things that belonged to the gods when they dwelt among us. There, death awaits the unwary. None go there.”
“Except you?”
He studied her a long moment and finally shrugged. “Yes. I was–curious and I do not believe in the gods, the old ones, or the ones the people worship now--not anymore anyway.” He smiled faintly. “Then, I suppose I did, but I did not believe they would punish me for my curiosity. And when I went, all that I saw there had been fashioned by the hand of man, not gods, so I ceased to believe, or fear. I took what pleased me and they did not smite me.”
Dionne covered her face with her hands, shaking her head. She saw that he was frowning when she looked at him again. “Those things--all of those things--were made by the people and what had survived the destruction should have been gathered for the use of those left. It was the things they needed to begin to rebuild. Why would it have been forbidden?” she muttered to herself, studying over the puzzle.
It occurred to her after some thought that the ‘evil’ and the ‘death’ spoken of might have been disease. With the enormity of loss of life, there had probably not been enough survivors to bury the dead. Sanitation would have vanished. Disease would have been rampant.
Somehow, the warnings to avoid the cities must have evolved into these myths over time and they had never gone back, which meant they would not have had the tools to rebuild. They would have begun again with little more than intelligence between them and a state very like cavemen--perhaps even that had been a handicap of sorts, for they had evolved so far beyond their animal instincts before disaster they would not have had those basic senses to guide them.
Or, quite possibly, since so very much time had passed, they had suffered a number of setbacks in trying to regain what was lost?
She shook the thoughts off. It was a moot point. Whatever had gone wrong was done and over with. She had this point to start with and she could not allow the enormity of the situation to overwhelm her. It would take generations to bring mankind back to that point that they had achieved pre-disaster so that they could go forward, but she had the means to give them a tremendous push in the right direction and help them advance rapidly in the generations to come.
She would begin by carefully assessing what was missing from the building blocks of civilization and ascertaining that the race had not suffered a serious setback in mental capabilities. From what she’d learned of Khan, she didn’t think so, but it must be thoroughly checked to make certain that he was not a genetic fluke. If the race had regressed, she would not be able to provide them with enough knowledge to prepare them for what they needed to do.
She studied Khan as he rose and filled two pottery bowls with food from the pot nestled in the fire he’d built, wondering if it was wise to enlist his help beyond what was absolutely necessary. She thought perhaps it wasn’t given his interest in sexual congress with her, but she found it comforting even to have the illusion of an ally.
She cleared her throat as he handed her the food. “I need to return to the bio-lab tomorrow. Will you take me?”
He frowned at his food. “I must lead the hunt tomorrow for food.”
Dionne sighed, nodding that she understood. “Sachi and Nomi can show me the way.”
He looked displeased at that comment. “I will take you.”
She stiffened at the command, but carefully refrained from looking up at him. She could certainly see the need for him to hunt for food if supplies were running low, but her task was equally important. She had no intention of awaiting his convenience, and no real need to have him escort her. She had only asked because she could have made the trip faster on the horse, and also because she had wanted the comforting presence of another human being. “Oh,” she muttered noncommittally, uncertain of whether he would try to force the issue or not if she seemed uncooperative.
She could feel his gaze upon her and knew he was studying her for any sign that she intended to ignore his command, which she did, but after a time he seemed to dismiss it. She doubted, particularly since he was the leader of his people, that he was used to having his commands questioned, or dismissed, but he would have to accustom himself to the fact that she wasn’t one of ‘his’ people and not subject to his rule.
It occurred to her after several moments that Khan had presented her with an opportunity to observe and collect data that would be far better than simply asking questions. “I could go with you,” she suggested tentatively.
Khan frowned. “Women do not hunt.”
She should have expected as much, but outrage still surfaced. “Excuse me?”
“It is dangerous. You must wait here with the like the other women.”
“I am not like the other women!”
“But you can not ride a horse. You can not use the weapons. And you will scare the beasts away with your chatter.”
Dionne’s eyes narrowed at the look of superiority on his face. It occurred to her that she probably deserved it--or he thought she deserved it. He’d accused her of treating him like he wasn’t a man, which could only have meant that she’d wounded his pride. She didn’t like it any better to think the shoe was on the other foot now.
Particularly since he was right. She didn’t know anything about hunting and she certainly had no idea of how to use the weapons they might have. On the other hand, she didn’t intend to hunt. She only wanted to go to watch.
He looked thoughtful when she’d pointed that out. She could almost see the wheels of his mind turning--that he realized he had the opportunity to prove to her that he was not one to be so lightly dismissed. It took an effort to curb the desire to smile.
It was comforting, actually, to realize that the species hadn’t changed as much as she’d thought. Men still wanted to impress women with their manliness.
“I will take you if you will give me your word that you will stay out of the way and be quiet.”
Stifling both resentment and the temptation to smile in triumph
, Dionne promised.
There was only one bed--or pallet, she discovered when they’d eaten--the furs she’d planted her butt on. Khan tricked her into climbing beneath the furs, however, merely pointing to them when she asked where she was to sleep.
She assumed it meant he was giving it to her, not that he intended to share it with her. She’d barely settled when he grabbed the edge of the fur she was using for a cover and climbed in beside her. She went rigid with tension instantly. Disconcertingly, he merely presented her with his back and composed himself for sleep.
The suspicion that he was only waiting for her to let her guard down occurred to her, but when she realized from his deep, even breathing that he’d gone to sleep, she finally dismissed it and sought her own rest.
She’d hardly drifted away, it seemed, when she was awakened by something plopping solidly on the furs that covered her. Since her mind instantly supplied the possibility of some sort of creature, she jackknifed upright as if her body was ejected by springs, slapping at the spot where the unknown thing had landed.
A deep chuckle emerged from the darkness. “The boots are dead already.”
Dionne blinked, struggling to focus her vision, and finally detected a darker shadow among the shadows. Khan was crouched beside the pallet. “Have you changed your mind about the hunt already?”
He’d like that, Dionne thought indignantly. She could hear it in his voice.
All the same, it didn’t seem to her that there was much sense in hunting when it was still dark outside.
“No. I’m coming,” she said, searching blindly for the boots he’d dropped on top of her and then flinging the fur back. Lifting them one at the time, she peered at the boots and finally decided there didn’t seem to be a right and left. They looked identical. Shoving her foot into one, she searched it for some way to tighten it around her calves and discovered lacing. When she’d pulled it taut and tied it, she grabbed the other boot and repeated the process.
Twilight's End Page 4