by S. J. Talbot
Now, alone in his lodge, his mechasuit tossed aside, the desire to see her, to touch her, to smell her, was driving him mad. When he finally did meet with her on Earth, he wasn't sure he would be able to control himself. He knew he needed to satisfy his urges, but he feared where that single step might lead.
His culture was full of parables like those of the Lecherous Bronze, the Wayward Silver, and the Pleasured Gold, all of whom succumbed to the vice of lust. Some of these foolish characters engaged in unsanctioned, unmonitored pairings, while others satisfied their craving by their own hand, but the result was always the same: war, ruin, shame. Frenzied Relican children -- and Tausson had been no different -- hoarded these parables, seeking instruction on how to slake their unceasing urges. As they grew out of that wanton phase, however, the stories became their guides in a different way, offering truth, warning against seeking pleasure simply for pleasure's sake.
If he gave in, if he gave relief to his throbbing organ, would that be the first step down a path that led to ruin? Instead of calming his passion, would it simply encourage it?
He decided on a compromise. He would see her, but he wouldn't satisfy himself physically. Perhaps the mere sight of her would quell the storm.
Although it was against every first contact directive, not to mention his promise to her earlier that day, Tausson slipped his arm inside his mechasuit and accessed Miss Dawson's phone without her permission. Aspri might get some sporadic bio signs, but it was late enough that they could be explained away by a vivid dream.
The square screen appeared, and the light from her phone was enough to illuminate her sleeping figure. He recognized her office. She was sleeping on the very same couch he had sat on. She shifted, turning away from the camera, and Tausson caught his breath as the movement caused the blanket to expose her back.
The only women Tausson had ever seen naked were the two humans from the video that Elic had brought up onto the sightscreen. Relican mates wore special pairing cloaks that hid each other's bodies, so even though Tausson had paired with thirteen women, including four Asteroid Mates, he'd never seen more than her face and hands. But even that revealing footage of the two women was nowhere near as intimate as the scene before him.
From the nape of her neck to the first gentle curve of her behind, Miss Dawson's magnificent body was revealing itself to him. Her luxurious hair spilled off the couch and grazed the floor, and Tausson squeezed himself, moaning at the rush of pleasure.
This was more than he'd bargained for. He felt the prick of shame at seeing her like this, uninvited. But his body cried for release.
The faster I get through it, the sooner I can stop this madness.
Jerking his arm out of the sleeve of his mechasuit, he turned on his shower and jumped into its heat. With the image of Tierney's naked body fresh in his mind, he pictured the two of them, their bodies intertwined as the two women's had been.
His wet fingers, pressed against his lips, were Tierney's. His hand, wrapped around himself, was Tierney's warm, wet entry, sliding back and forth upon his swollen organ. He brought his other hand between his thighs to fondle the bulging sacs of seed, and his legs quivered, because it was Tierney's hand caressing him.
Supporting himself against the slippery wall, he thrust deep into Tierney's body. Many of his mates had not been able to take all of him, but Tierney could. He buried himself inside her and still she asked for more. Tierney was around him, on him, in him, and the aching, maddening hunger within him roared as he gave her all of himself. His seed burst forth into her, filling her.
As his legs gave out, unable to support the weight of his pleasure, the only sound that he could make, the only sound that deserved such unfettered joy and freedom was a single whispered name.
"Tierney..."
13
Sitting at her desk, Tierney waited anxiously for Commander Corwin to arrive. She'd had crazy dreams, all about him, and had woken up rubbing herself, her hand drenched in her own perfume. Luckily there were showers she could use, but although she washed the scent of her dreams away, the memory of them lingered.
Why was she having tantalizing dreams about the Relican commander? Was it because of what her sister had said? Or was it that moment in the cafeteria? Either way, she needed to get them out of her head. She could already feel herself getting flushed, picturing him here in her office, sitting on the couch where she'd dreamt of him running his fingers down her back, caressing her, whispering her name...
"Get a grip!" she whispered to herself, getting out of her chair and heading out the door.
After buying a breakfast bar, she returned to her office to find him sitting in front of her desk. He heard her enter and stood in greeting. The sight of his strong, tight body and his glittering skin reminded her of her dreams, and she caught her breath, surprised at the potency of her reaction.
He seemed to be staring at her with an equal amount of intensity, reading her expression, and Tierney felt almost as if he could see her thoughts.
"Good morning," he said, his tone serious.
Trying to smile, she replied in kind as she took her seat at her desk. "Good morning. I trust everything was satisfactory yesterday?"
A flash of alarm crossed his face, and she clarified. "With the cart?"
"Oh, yes," he said with obvious relief. "Everything appears in order. President Freeland and the other world leaders may inspect it at any time."
As he sat in front of her, Tierney felt her mind sharpening in anticipation of the work they were going to do. The memories of last night's fantasies were drifting away, replaced with the myriad details they still had to address.
"Before we begin --"
"There's something I --"
They'd both started speaking at the same time. With a light, awkward laugh, Tierney said, "You go ahead."
Commander Corwin shook his head. "No, you."
After a moment of hesitation, she said, "Before we begin, I need to reiterate that the President was not the originator of that grotesque email. Someone on tour with her snuck her phone out of her possession and composed that note. The vile attitude represented in that questionnaire in no way reflects the President's views."
"I understand," said the commander with a deep nod.
"Thank you." Gesturing to him, she said, "You were saying?"
He studied her a moment, lost in thought, then his eyes refocused on her. "You said something yesterday, about the Asteroid Mates, that I would like some clarity on."
Tierney's stomach clenched. What had she said? She'd been so angry at Jonas... had she offended the commander? She waited for him to continue.
"You said something about the women being degraded."
Oh crap.
"Why do you feel that way?" he asked.
At least he didn't seem angry, just confused, and concerned.
She searched for the most politically correct answer. "My own personal feelings on the matter have no impact on my job or my relationship with you."
"Relationship?"
Was that a hint of a smile on his lips? A wave of heat consumed her, and she could feel her cheeks reddening.
"Our working relationship," she clarified.
He nodded, serious again. She thought she'd gotten away with it, but he locked those steel eyes on her again and said, "What are your personal feelings on the matter?"
"They're irrelevant," she said, trying to laugh it off. "Shall we begin?" she added quickly, turning to her computer.
"I want to know." It was almost a command. She could hear the edge of authority in his voice, see the demand in his eyes, but he caught himself, adding a gentle, "Please."
"I really don't see how it matters," she said, desperate to avoid insulting him.
"It matters to me," he said softly.
The rapid shift in tone from commanding to vulnerable was disarming, and Tierney felt her body responding to it. Her heart ached to ease his unseen burden, her skin shivered at the memory of his phantom hands.
A knock on her door startled them both, and Tierney looked up, never so grateful to see the Vice President.
"Ah! Commander Corwin!" he said, shaking the Relican's hand. "Just the person I wanted to see. So good to see you again, so good." He glanced at Tierney and gave her a quick, "Miss Dawson," before returning his attention to the commander.
"Nasty business all this email business, eh? I'm so sorry you had to see us at our worst."
With a look in Tierney's direction, Commander Corwin said, "Miss Dawson has explained the theft and false nature of the document."
Still gripping the commander's hand, Caleb shook his head, "So she says, so she says. I'm afraid it's just the latest scandal to tar her feathers."
Before Tierney could protest, he went on. "I just hope you can see past our faults and still deem us worthy of your protection. Humanity has many problems, many problems, but you and your kind represent a new chapter for us. Hopefully we can see past our differences and all the things that divide us, and come together as one united race moving forward, like your people have done."
Tierney almost laughed at his duplicity, but she'd already gotten into one argument in front of the Relican commander, and she wasn't about to start another.
"Commander Corwin and I were just about to start our planning session, Mr. Vice President," said Tierney, hoping this distraction had been enough to derail the commander's line of questioning from before.
Hardly sparing her a look, Caleb said, "Important stuff, indeed. Although, I'm heading over to Channel 8 News for an interview, and sitting side by side with the commander here would go a long way in convincing the country that we're all on the same side. The public is getting sick of me already, I can tell, but hearing the words straight from the Relican's mouth would make a big difference, a big difference in getting Americans on board."
The commander turned a distressed look on Tierney, and she could tell he wanted an out.
"Commander Corwin and I have much to discuss, Mr. Vice President," she said. "We were supposed to meet yesterday afternoon, but his obligations prevented him."
She could see the gratitude in the commander's face, but then his expression changed, turning dark and resolute.
"Unfortunately, Miss Dawson," he began, and Tierney could read the apology in his eyes before he spoke the words, "appearing with the Vice President could be critical in winning over the public."
"Wonderful!" said Caleb, giving the commander's shoulder a firm squeeze.
"When will you be back?" asked Tierney, surprised at the longing in her voice.
"We'll see, we'll see," Caleb said, walking to the door. "I might be able to get us a few more TV spots on short notice if I've got the commander with me. After you, Commander."
Commander Corwin eyed the Vice President's outstretched hand, then looked at Tierney. "My deepest apologies."
"Come along, come along," said Caleb, motioning the commander to exit. "We've got to leave now if we want our prime time slot."
With one last look at Tierney, the commander stepped out of the office. Before following the Relican down the hall, Caleb turned back to her.
"Miss Dawson?"
Glaring up at him, she said, "Yes?"
With a mean smile and cold eyes, he said, "Give the President my regards," and walked out the door.
It was after lunch, and the commander still hadn't returned.
But Tierney had bigger problems.
The "Welcome Relicans" rallies that were happening in cities across the country had turned violent in many places. Counter-protestors, claiming that anyone who supported the Relicans were under their control, had started riots, attacking innocent people and destroying nearby businesses.
President Freeland had already released a statement, as well as offered the National Guard to any state that requested it to quell the chaos, but Tierney feared this was just the beginning. She'd been relatively isolated from the rest of the world these past few days, but even among the White House staff there was unrest. Because she was spending the most time with a Relican -- and one on one, at that -- she'd been the object of numerous furtive looks and suspicious glances, and she couldn't count the number of times conversation had stopped when she entered a room.
At least Tierney could take comfort in the fact that Clementine was nowhere near those rallies. Maybe now her little sister would admit that Tierney was right sometimes, and start listening to her instead of rolling her eyes every time Tierney tried to give her advice. Even though they had a really good relationship most of the time, Clem often accused her of being a mom instead of her sister. But being nine years older, Tierney couldn't help it sometimes.
She was on the phone with the Governor of Idaho when the air in front of her desk started becoming fuzzy. She rubbed her eyes, attributing it to sleep deprivation, but the fuzziness remained, darkening into a black blur hovering in the air.
"Excuse me, Governor," she said, her heart pounding with fear, "I need to call you back."
Dropping the phone on her desk, she raced to her door and hid in the hallway. Peering in, she saw the floating darkness begin to take shape, particles of air thickening and stretching, swirling and swarming to form legs, arms, and a head.
A silver head.
Of course!
She would have laughed if she weren't too afraid of getting caught lurking outside her own office. She straightened up, patted her hair and clothes, and strode confidently into her office just as the commander was opening his eyes.
"Commander," she said nonchalantly, sitting across from him.
He looked tired, but his face brightened when he saw her. "Miss Dawson," he replied, taking his seat and letting out a sigh.
"Caleb wore you out, huh?"
"The Vice President was able to procure five different interviews among your media outlets."
"In five hours? Yikes. Have you eaten? I'm sure we've got something --"
Her cell phone rang and she glanced at the caller ID. "Just my sister," she said, declining the call. "I was saying that I'm sure we could find something that meets your --"
Her phone rang again. "Geez, Clem!" she muttered.
"Perhaps you should accept."
"No," she said, silencing her ringer and facing it down on her desk. "She just wants to pump me for details about you guys. It can wait. Anyway, are you hungry?"
"The Vice President and I ate together."
Tierney's stomach lurched, but she tried to stay casual. "Oh? Do you mind if I ask what you two discussed?" The way he glanced nervously away confirmed her suspicion. "He was badmouthing the President the whole time, wasn't he?"
Commander Corwin took his time answering. "The Vice President has his reserva--"
Tierney's phone rang again, and her heart tightened. She picked it up and felt her breath become shallow. "I'm so sorry, Commander. This is my sister again. She called enough times to override the silence setting -- something must be wrong. Can you excuse me?"
She left her office and stood out in the hall. "Clem?" she whispered. "What is going on?"
"Tierney?" her sister's frightened voice whispered back. "I'm really sorry, but I went to the rally even though I promised I wouldn't."
"What?! Clem! Are you okay? Where are you?"
Struggling to speak through her tears, Clementine said, "This big group of guys with bats and chains came running at me and my friends, and we got separated. I got away and hid in an alley, but I'm scared to leave because there are still people screaming and running all over the place."
She was speaking so quietly that Tierney could barely hear her. She leaned against the wall, shutting her eyes, trying to stay calm, to think of a solution. "Okay. Where are you exactly? I'll call the police and see if they can send someone."
"Tierney?" Her little sister's sniffles cut through Tierney's heart, and she felt her own tears welling up.
"Yeah?"
"I saw someone getting beat up really bad. I think he might be dead."
&n
bsp; Tierney pushed back the tears and assumed her strongest, most commanding White House Chief of Staff voice. "Clementine Dawson, you stay calm, do you hear me? I'm going to send someone for you. Now tell me exactly where you are."
It was a testament to how frightened Clementine was that she didn't call her out for sounding too parental. "I'm not sure. I think I'm in the alley behind Andy's Pizza, but I wasn't really paying attention to where I was going."
"Okay. You stay where you are. I'll call the cops, and then I'll call you right back and stay with you until they're there, okay? Stay there."
Her sister didn't respond.
"Clementine?!"
"I'm here," came her sister's weak reply.
The weight on Tierney's chest lifted a hair's breadth. "I'll call you right back."
She hung up and saw that a crowd had gathered at the end of the hall.
"Is Clementine okay?" Donna asked.
"No," Tierney said as she looked up the number for Chicago's police force.
"I'm not sure the police will be able to help her," someone else said. "They're pretty busy --"
"I have to try," she said, cutting off their pessimistic yet dishearteningly realistic observation.
"Maybe I can help."
Commander Corwin stepped out of her office.
"How?" asked Tierney, the police station line ringing in her ear.
"I can convey to your sister and retrieve her," he said.
Hope flared in her chest, and she hung up on the still ringing line. "What do you need?"
"Coordinates, and a picture of her."
"This might not be such a good idea, dear," said Donna.
Tierney snapped her head back and glared at the white-haired woman. "Why?"
Donna flinched at Tierney's sharp tone, but she gave a pointed look at the commander. "If those troublemakers see him, they'll go straight for him. Then they'd both be in danger."
Tierney looked back at the commander. His face was tight with concern, but he said simply, "I defer to you."