REAP 23

by J J Perry

  “I take that as an insult.”

  There it was. Another statement that showed his emotional state was off in some way. Fear began rising in her throat in the lift as she and Cyrus went without speaking to Science. When they entered, Suresh had his hands in gloves inside a hood, mixing chemicals. They exchanged greetings for a minute. “Lucinda is concerned that someone is delivering notes to her room while she sleeps. Do you know anything about that?”

  “Of course not.”

  “You haven’t been inside her room, then?”

  “No. Does the locator log indicate otherwise?”

  “No.”

  “There you are. It must be someone else.”

  Outside Science, Cyrus said, “Are you satisfied?”

  “Not really, but thanks for your time.” She was irritated that he had spent as little effort as possible to address what she viewed as a threat.

  This morning, there was no note and, thankfully, no arousal. That was nice. Instead, a few minutes after she awoke and was about to bathe, there was a knock at her door. She pulled a towel around her and answered. Suresh was dressed in his silk robe, polite and pleasant.

  “Good morning, Lucinda,” he said. He pulled a little tea light candle from his pocket.

  “Is there a problem?”

  “I should apologize.”

  “You know you’re not welcome at my room anytime.”

  “So sorry.”

  “Bye.”

  He lit the candle. “Take this as my peace offering.” He gave it to her and left. She put it on the dresser and showered. When she came back in to dress, her arousal started and grew with a vengeance. She decided to go work out, hoping that a heavy sweat would flush it off.

  She hurried to Recreation and laid her sweater on the resistance machine next to the trainer she used. She put the resistance up to 180 watts and was cranking hard without deafening the siren’s song. Raul came in, and the compulsion went up a notch. Handsome, muscular guy, flexing his pecs and starting to glow after starting his work out. Nice butt. Big bulge. She looked away, turning the watts to 225. He stepped over to talk to her. Within seconds, his pupils became dilated. Then he came too close. His pheromones went up her hypersensitive nose, and somewhere in her primal lobes, a flood of neurotransmitters took control. She was literally compelled to stop running and hold him. They embraced without speaking. She ground like an animal hard against his thigh. They each tried to stop, but every time they separated, they fell together again. She lost all control when he slipped his hand beneath her bra. She ripped off her pants, her shirt, her bra, and purred as she launched her underpants. Never had sex been so intense as Raul banged away. It was not making love, not tender, not romantic. It was vicious, predatory, animals in heat.

  Then Parambi entered unseen and unheard until he said, “May I play? I was so hoping to find you alone, Luc, but I could tell you had company.”

  She was struck with fear. Raul was still grunting and growling in torrid passion, eyes screwed shut seemingly unaware of the visitor. Suresh lifted her off of him by the armpits and threw her several feet away. Raul’s eyes flew open in surprise. In a second, the much larger Parambi had him rolled over facedown and immobilized.

  Lucinda saw blood over his Suresh’s chest and followed it to an ugly laceration under his clavicle where the locator should have been, a blood trail trickling to his waist and below. Suresh looked up at her. “You look lovely in heat, dear Lucinda. How about using up your drive on me? I’m ready.”

  Her arms pulled across her chest. “You bastard! What are you doing?”

  “I am wooing you, sweetheart. I am turning you on like you’ve never been turned on before. Did you enjoy my candle? It made me the man you’ve been looking for.”

  “I have not been looking for a man.”

  “Well, well, then what is this if it is not a man?” Suresh lifted Raul’s head by his hair and twisted his face toward Lucinda. She had no answer. His eyes moved from her pubis to her chest. She backed up to the wall. His nostrils flared, and a smile spread across his face. He shoved Raul’s face hard into the floor, dazing him. Suresh then lifted him up and threw him like a rag doll against the wall a few feet from Lucinda, blocking any hope of exit. He held him with one hand around his neck and jaw, pinning Raul’s legs with his hip. “Make love to me, or I’ll cut off his little organ,” he demanded as he produced a laser scalpel from his robe pocket. He flicked his robe open and gestured for her to approach. “Come,” he said.

  A woman’s voice echoed into the room, “Raul, Lucinda, where are you?”

  Parambi’s face clouded, and the grip on Raul’s throat tightened as he apparently swore in Hindi.

  “We are in Rec,” Lucinda answered slowly, thinking about how to resolve this without disaster, “having a discussion with Suresh.” She then saw Ivanna enter and knew that she would not suffer the indignity and humiliation of rape.

  Now in this room, the memory of what they had done here oppressed her. She had been debased and wanted an explanation. Both she and Raul had been violated. Was it rape? The key to the start of the search grew out of her recall.

  4.4

  LAUNCH + 143 DAYS

  “Using O18, labeled glucose, we were able to map the metabolism of the frontal and temporal lobes in response to multiple programmed stimuli. This has enabled us to weave a flexible 0.5-millimeter probe into twenty-nine loci for multiple microablations per your direction, Commander.” Zhivago was explaining the procedure to Cyrus, Savanna, and Maricia.

  “What did you say the probability of success was for neutralizing his aberrant behavior, Zhivago?” Cyrus inquired.

  “Fifty-seven percent, sir, with this first iteration.”

  “Four out of seven. You estimate it will take at least one week to determine if more treatments are needed?”

  Maricia interrupted. “At least a week, Cyrus. Probably more. The difficult decision will be whether to do more ablation if his thought processes and behavior are marginal. He is so intelligent that the standard psyche test standards don’t apply. Don’t forget, he did not consent to this procedure. I doubt he’ll be exceptionally compliant to our next request.”

  “My fear is that the cheese-head is still a threat,” Savanna said.

  “Cheese?” Cyrus asked.

  “Swiss,” Maricia said.

  Cyrus looked confused and then shook it off. “We had this conversation, Savanna,” he said. “You wanted to do more and were voted down. Just drop it.”

  “That’s hard when you know you’re right.”

  Cyrus grunted dismissively. Maricia squinted at her. “How can you be so sure?”

  “He’s an anomaly, can’t be treated like the average person.”

  “We can’t deprive him of rights just because you say so,” Cyrus argued.

  “His right to create mayhem exceeds ours to be free from it? Sounds just like the government back home.”

  “How did you get so cynical?” Maricia sighed.

  “I once lived near Paris.”

  “That made her both cynical and rude,” Cyrus added. “So when he recovers in a day or two and he is back to work, we are going to keep tabs on the evil doctor to make sure he does not blow us to bits, right, Zhivago?”

  “That is affirmative, sir.”

  “This is a colossal mistake. If you don’t kill or disable your enemy, they return with greater resolve to kill you.”

  “Savanna, you don’t sound French—more like English or American,” Cyrus said. “Disgusting.”

  “More like Darwinian. I want to survive.”

  “Hah! He was English. Is anyone hungry?” Cyrus asked. “I’m ready for lunch.” The three conscious humans left recovering Suresh to the robots and walked downstairs to the mess hall.

  Sitting with legs splayed apart was Raul, lunch patty in hand, staring into
one of several photo galleries. He turned when he heard them enter. “Hola, folks,” he said gaily.

  “What is for lunch?” Cyrus asked.

  “Thursday burgers,” the cook-bot replied. “Sit your sweet ass down. You know what lunch menu is. The same damn thing you ate last Thursday and every Thursday for the last three months.”

  Ignoring the remark, Cyrus, Savanna, and Maricia joined Raul at the table. Maricia tapped on her porta-pad and found that Lucinda was in CAC.

  “How they hanging, Raul?” Cyrus grinned.

  “The important thing is that they are still ‘they’ and they are still here.”

  “It looks like you are still pretty sore,” Savanna stated.

  “It probably would be better if one of them wasn’t four times bigger than usual.”

  “Muy grande cajones!” The cook interrupted. “Most guys like to think they have big ones, but you actually do. You are the man! No Tengo cajones pero ruedas.”

  “Who exactly wrote his humor algorithm?” Raul asked no one in particular.

  “I’ll be happy to get you ice,” Maricia offered. “Dry ice.”

  They all laughed.

  “That was good, Maricia,” Raul said as the laughter died. “A nice blend of humor with a bite.”

  “Frostbite?” she replied with eyebrows raised in a playful but edgy look.

  “Can I get any of you a drink?” The cook-bot whirred around the small mess hall with two tables that could be joined to form a banquet table. The ceiling had indirect multicolored lighting, creating a soothing ambience. “It’s five o’clock somewhere. In fact, in space, it’s always five o’clock. Or it’s just a good reason to drink.”

  They ordered drinks, and the cook whirred away, muttering, “No tips? A bunch of cheapskates is what they are. I might drain my transmission fluid into your mugs. Ya jus’ never know.”

  “I need to catch up with the log. I think I can work on that a little bit today, Cy.”

  “Not much to report except the soap opera,” Cyrus said. “Science is almost shut down, except Lucinda has the bots working on something. Do any of you know what she is doing?”

  Raul and Savanna shook their heads. Maricia thought for a few seconds. “Not really, although I think she tried to tell me something the night of Raul’s surgery. I was too angry to talk with her. Whatever it was, it might have something to do with her science project. She is using the multi-bots when they are not needed in Medical.”

  “All the intrigue is beginning to wear on me,” Cyrus said. “It needs to stop.”

  “I think it’s good,” Savanna countered. “She has a project that keeps her mind occupied. She’s had more stress than any of the rest of us, with all due respect to your injuries, Raul. Other than your fling, she has really kept it together.”

  “Your drinks and your Thursday burgers,” the cook intoned as the food was served. “With fries, no flies. What is it frogs say?”

  “Time’s fun when you’re having flies,” Maricia answered.

  “Did I already tell that joke? I must be getting old. How about this—do you know what the Scot said when he found a fly in his ale?”

  “An ailing fly can float?” Cyrus responded.

  “Oh, brother. You have absolutely no sense of humor. You must be an Arab.”

  “Persian, you pissant. Go wash dishes.”

  “He said, ‘Spit it out, ye wee little bastard!’”

  Cyrus responded, “Deactivate humor program, voice authorization. Now, Spoon, leave us alone.”

  The cook-bot whirred away whistling, seeming pleased by the pejorative. He answered to Cook, Cookie, Spoon, Grease, and his name, of course.

  “His programming allows that to be verbally deactivated for about an hour,” Savanna said.

  “By then, I’ll be upstairs,” Raul said. I need to figure out how to reprogram that software. It’s really annoying when you get it every stinking day for months.”

  “It’s one of the few humor algorithms that is pretty good. The med-bots and multi-bots have nothing,” Maricia said.

  “Thank God!” Raul replied as he stuffed the final morsel of his lunch into his mouth.

  “Do you mean that, Raul?” Savanna asked.

  “Yes. I hate that humor.”

  “Enough to thank God that it stop?”

  “It’s just an expression,” he replied, looking away.

  “So you don’t mean it?”

  “I mean it.”

  “You believe in God.”

  “I am a Spaniard and therefore Catholic.”

  “I wonder how many of the crew believe in a god,” Savanna asked. “I don’t think we have ever discussed that, which is surprising when you consider how long we have spent together.”

  “I think it depends on how you define god,” said Maricia.

  “I was thinking the loosest definition possible. Let me say a deity, being, force, or essence that is involved in the affairs of man and the universe and may exist in a state that precludes strict scientific physical proof. I probably left something out, but that seems pretty general.”

  “I could go with that. I believe in something,” Maricia said.

  “Cyrus?” Savanna asked.

  “For weeks, we have these arguments about nothing. Can’t you just agree on being quiet?”

  “God is nothing?” Raul asked.

  “Tell ’em what you believe in, Cyrus,” Savanna said.

  “I keep my beliefs to myself.”

  “I thought you didn’t like intrigue,” said Raul. “Or maybe you’re afraid to reveal yourself.”

  “Tell them what you believe, Savanna,” Cyrus’s vitriol boiled over. “Go ahead, say it. It’ll turn this ridiculous discussion into a fight. I’m leaving. I hate god debates.” He stood but stuffed more food in his mouth instead of walking away.

  “I am certain there is no god, so there’s nothing to argue.”

  “You can’t be certain,” Maricia countered.

  “Hey, guys.” The voice of Lucinda came into the room via the communicators. “I found something.”

  “To be continued,” whispered Savanna to those in the room and then called out, “Did you find God?”

  “Why don’t you meet me in Science in five minutes and I’ll show you?”

  “Give us ten. We want to finish eating,” Raul replied.

  “Ten minutes. Everybody come, even if you hate me and never want to see my face again. In fact, especially if you do… or don’t… or whatever.” A static click ended the connection.

  “That makes me curious,” Savanna said. “What has she been up to?”

  “We could search the work log,” said Cyrus.

  “Especially if it’s a good surprise,” Maricia said.

  Raul looked at her with his eyes crossed. “That was deep.”

  “You are in deep,” Maricia said. “Deep in a cesspool from which you may never surface. If I were you, I’d be sending flowers, not insults.”

  4.5

  A small candle, a sack of clothing, a couple of pieces of paper, and several small vials were lined up on a countertop under a hood. The adjacent screen displayed a cryptic, coded log. Lucinda was sitting on a barstool as they entered. Savanna positioned herself closest to Lucinda, and Maricia positioned Raul farthest away. “What’s up, Luc?” asked Savanna.

  “I feel like a TV detective.” She took a deep breath and exhaled to prepare for her presentation. “OK. You see the things under the hood. Suresh had been pestering me with sexual overtures for a couple of weeks. He came into my room in the middle of the night for two weeks just long enough to leave a stupid love note without waking me up. Every morning after a visit, I woke up sexually stimulated. Four days ago in the early morning, he came to my room, knocked on the door, gave me that candle,”—she pointed—“lit it, and left. With
in minutes, I became extremely aroused. This is so embarrassing.” She paused and looked away to regain her objectivity. “I could not understand why. I went to work out, to burn off the energy, and then, well, Raul came in, and you know what happened.

  “I tested all these items in the lab, looking for something that would have driven both Raul and me crazy. This morning, I found it. There are traces of a compound that is both a synthetic pheromone and a phosphodiesterase inhibitor found in everything here. I have not found it in anything else.”

  “A pheromone is a sexual attractant,” Maricia said slowly as she dragged her pharmacology out of mental storage. “A phosphodiesterase inhibitor increases blood flow to sex organs and increases desire in women and function in men. That would sell on the streets as an aphrodisiac.”

  “According to the work log for the lab, Suresh was working on this ever since we started. Here is an entry from mission day three. This unknown abbreviation here, PaLNS216c, has no meaning as far as the computer can determine. It appears every few days until about a week before Leila and Chen died. It then appears several times a day.” She showed page after page of reference as she continued. “After Leila died, PaLNS216c does not appear for a month. Just before he started delivering notes to me, it appears again, every day.

  “The two notes that had not been recycled contain traces of this junk, but the candle is full of it. The smoke permeated my clothing, continuing to affect me as I exercised. I think it affected Raul because my sweater was on the machine he was using.”

  “That would explain why I felt so turned on,” Raul said defensively. “I thought I had gone mad because I had no need for more sex that morning. I was empty.”

  Maricia slugged him in his upper arm. “That’s enough, Raul.” He looked at her, raising both arms in a gesture that questioned why she would strike him. “Well, he’s right about being empty,” she admitted.

  “It made me wonder if Suresh began by trying to stimulate Leila, who was a big tease,” Lucinda resumed, looking at Savanna as she spoke. “Perhaps she and Chen were under the influence.”