She shook her head. “I was not in control of it, I was surprised by it.”
“The body is what it is. To fight it is as bad as being overwhelmed by it. Your arousal required a resolution to retain equilibrium.”
She nodded that she understood.
“But you have missed something. What would cause such unconscious desire?” She looked puzzled and began the standard biochemical explanation. He shook his head. “Something else.”
She stood still, puzzled.
He smiled. “You have started your cycle. Your first ovum sits in your womb waiting and female desire is strongest at that point.”
“But I thought…”
“You have been sexually active have you not? You have been exposed to semen?”
She blushed and nodded. “Some.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “It’s simple biochemistry. Some ancient Earth cultures believed that semen caused menstruation. In a sense they were right. When the body senses the opportunity of impregnation it hastens puberty. It’s subliminal, automatic. You can expect to bleed in a week or two.”
She sighed, “cramps.”
“Not necessarily, there are teas, massage. Sexual release will help. You are lucky. On old Earth many girls had no idea of what to expect. It was a thing of shame and distress.”
They walked silently for a while. He knew that her mind would be anxious about the changes but she surprised him by softly singing a popular love song and beginning to skip a little to the tune. How did the song go?
As Eros and Psyche roam the sky
I too, roam for you.
It is fate that brings them together
And the tides strain in time
Just as the tides of my heart
Strain for you.
He supposed it was popular because the imagery was so apt, telling of the eclipse of the two moons, Psyche and Eros, with the smaller Psyche passing in front of the larger, more distant Eros, causing massive tides to sweep the planet and earthquakes and eruptions on both Eros and Eden. Of course everyone knew the old Earth story of Eros and Psyche and how a god had fallen in love with a mortal girl. He might be a rationalist but he wasn’t immune to poetic sentiment.
“Will you carry my pack?” Cynthia asked. “I feel like doing cartwheels.”
He smiled and held out his hand. It would not be heavy.
“And this,” she said taking off her sarong.
This amused him a great deal. Once again she was not aware that her ovum was whispering to her. She ran ahead and then did a full flip and then a series of cartwheels. She began to climb up rocks and leap confidently from one to the other, revelling in the bright sunlight and clear mountain air. In some sense he wished he could join her. He had become altogether too serious; it was good to retain a sense of play. There would be time to analyse her actions later.
When she realised he wasn’t paying her a whole lot of attention she calmed down and again walked by his side. He handed back her pack and her sarong, which she draped around her neck. They continued in silence for a further two hours, until they caught sight of the twin silver lines of the monorail track disappearing into the forest below.
“When do we have to be there?” Cynthia asked.
“Two.”
“We’re early.”
He nodded. “We made good time.”
“I’m thirsty and hungry. There’s a creek nearby isn’t there?”
“It’s a little out of our way.”
“But we could still make it in plenty of time,” she challenged.
He nodded and followed her down the hillside into the forest. It wasn’t too long before they came to a glade with a small waterfall and rock pool. She dropped her gear and did not hesitate to dive in. Of course it was a ploy but it was hard to resist. He dropped his gear and followed. As soon as he surfaced she splashed him and laughed: more games of seduction. He dove at her and grabbed her, pushing her under. She came up coughing and spluttering. This triggered her aggression and she gave a wry smile before she leapt at him. He had forgotten just how strong she was and struggled to loosen her grip. She almost got him under. She seemed satisfied and clambered out onto the rocks where she squatted as she rummaged through her pack, looking for the parcel of bread, cheese and fruit they had packed. She gave him a teasing smile as he clambered out of the water to fetch his lunch, also bread, cheese and fruit.
She watched him carefully. “You seem a little aroused.”
He sighed. “I am, no commendations for that one, and you are now especially aroused.”
She paused and blushed with the realisation.
“What was that song you were singing?” he asked.
She furrowed her brow. “The Tides of Eros?”
He nodded.
“Oh, but that’s not…” She halted, knowing it was a rationalisation.
“So here we go again…”
She seemed stuck for a reply. “It’s so… difficult. You think you are the one in control…”
“But the physiology of the brain is complex. It has different compartments…”
She nodded. “Reptilian, mammalian, sapien, rational, transrational…”
“Harmony through awareness…”
“Self-reflection.”
“Yes. We are not the slaves of our mind, we are its creators.”
She nodded and finished her meal. “But, rationally speaking, it is a good place for a fuck.”
He laughed. She was right. They were in a pleasant glade, the sun was shining, they had time. There was no good reason not to.
“How am I doing for time?”
“At this pace you’ll be an hour late.”
“Damn.”
“They are expecting you. They’ll wait.”
“How many others?”
“Six at this station and a party of surfers on Long Beach.”
“No, it’s rude to be late.”
She picked up her pace to a steady jog. It had its risks because the rain had made the ground muddy and slippery. She stumbled a couple of times and had to use her hands to regain balance. As a result she was once again muddy, but she persisted.
The clouds started to break as she climbed higher, dotting the landscape with patches of sunlight and shadow. A quick look behind revealed that she was beginning to rise above the cloud level. From a higher vantage point she would see the peninsula covered in white fluffy cloud.
“You are almost there. You should slow down.”
She paused to catch her breath.
“Time?”
“Does it matter?”
She cursed her guardian but realised it was absolutely correct. The clouds had finally parted and she could see the station in the distance, the sleek chrome and glass carriages waiting patiently for her arrival, human figures also waiting, possibly less patiently. As she got closer she saw one of the figures wave, so she waved back.
It had been Prax who had seen her first, a strange greyish figure beginning to appear through the remaining mist, partly hidden by clumps of alpine bushes and tall grasses. As she got closer she wasn’t at all what he expected. The woman was filthy and, well, hairy, her long black hair in a damp tangle. She was also stunningly beautiful, with strong Polynesian features; including a striking traditional tattoo on her chin.
“An ape woman,” Cynthia said to no one in particular, already sensing the sexual competition.
Prax glowered at her and she sulked.
Nuku thought she detected an initial look of surprise on faces that turned to polite smiles as soon as she got close enough. She didn’t blame them. She was a mess.
There were, as her guardian had said, six people. Four hikers dressed in utilitarian but colourful hiking gear: boots, socks, shorts or long trousers, shirts, sunglasses and four substantial backpacks. The type of gear you’d need for a week of walking in the cool air of the mountains, enough to get you to the Grand Falls, stay a few days and return.
The other two were a tall monk and his a
colyte, a boy of around ten, or was it a girl? She wasn’t sure.
It was the monk who spoke first. “Papatuanuku Teixeira?”
She looked him straight in the eye and noticed that they were a bright blue and that his eyebrows and hair were straw blond, despite his dark skin. His face also suggested strong Nordic genes. Usually the inclusion of melanin genes darkened the eyes and the hair, giving most Edenoi tones from light brown to jet-black, although there were a few recessive genes that escaped treatment to give their owners blond or red hair. It certainly made him stand out.
“Yes, the same.”
He offered his hand. “Praxiteles Smith.”
“I must apologise for my appearance…”
“Yes, the rain,” offered one of the hikers, “and the mud.” He pointed to his boots and lower legs.
“Except I slipped.”
“Yes, but being naked means it’s one dip in water and you are clean. We have so much washing to do.” It was a polite attempt to put her at ease.
“Here, I have some water in a flask,” offered another, a woman, introducing herself as Soo.
A man called Olaf handed her a bandana, which she accepted gratefully and used to wash away the mud on her hands and arms. It wasn’t completely effective, but at least the worst of it was diminished. As she did so the others introduced themselves and engaged her in light banter.
The monorail stop was a simple affair made of local stone and timber. A small overhang provided shelter from rain, much like the tram stops in old Berlin or Melbourne. The doors hissed open and they entered, their guardians communicating with the system. The hikers heaved their packs into the overhead racks, a couple divested themselves of their shirts, including Soo. This revealed elaborate tattoos across her back and pierced nipples on perfectly balanced breasts.
The hikers explained that they made up an erotic circle that had met whilst working in the electronics facilities down at Siren’s Bay. “Mainly medical and scientific instrumentation,” said Soo.
“And some nano drones… Probes, that sort of thing…” added Olaf.
The monorail bell rang to warn them it was about to move, a mere formality because it moved forward with meticulous smoothness – no jolts or sudden kicks in momentum. Some people sat and some stood, the better to catch the view out of the large windows.
The monorail was just one of three (although more were planned). The first went inland to the farms on the Arcadian plains, mostly transporting produce: the second had been up the rugged north coast to the active volcano on Thor Island and this one, south to the Parvarti ranges, mostly to carry hikers and day trippers.
“You’ve been doing a biological survey and living with the tribals?” Soo asked as the monorail descended into the Sisstoon forest with its vast groves of tall ivory wood trees with their trunks spotted with variegated mosses and succulents.
She nodded.
“Completely naked for three months, hunting and gathering, none of the luxuries of civilisation?” Soo observed.
“Well, a different kind of civilisation…”
Soo blushed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean…”
She smiled to calm Soo’s momentary social panic. “It has its discomforts. Shitting in the woods, wiping your arse with leaves, sleeches and hooks and nose worms that slip up your nostrils and feed off your snot…”
Soo grimaced.
“But it has its pleasures. Exotic fragrances, fruits, nuts, tubers and delicious, fat grubs; bathing in waterfalls, rubbing your skin with natural oils, having your skin exfoliated by sucker fish feeding on dead skin – get a few of them sucking at your clit and it’s a whole other experience.” She smiled and Soo laughed.
“Any new discoveries?” asked Prax.
“Yes, an interesting brain stimulant, a berry with high vitamin C, three new empathogens, a new source of opiates, a strong adhesive compound, spices and herbs, a new species of capscainoids which should get the culinary aesthetes excited, a new form of bioluminescence. I’ve only just begun. The biodiversity is extraordinary.”
She smiled at Prax and he smiled back. He was certainly handsome and by the shape of the bulge under his sarong, it would seem he also had a rather handsome cock.
“Don’t you get dirty and well, smelly?” It was the acolyte, the rather masculine looking girl with the rough hands and big feet and the out-of-place budding breasts on developed pectorals. She was being rude and Nuku looked at Prax for an explanation.
He rolled his eyes and sighed. “First oestrus,” he said by way of explanation.
The girl glowered with the revelation.
“Oh,” said Nuku nodding with empathy. “The womb protecting its source of prime genetic material.”
Cynthia folded her arms and scowled.
“Well you deserve it,” said Prax tapping her on her head. “Sexual competition: female aggression. You were rude. It was obvious to everyone except you. I hope you have learned a lesson.”
Nuku tried to smile to assuage the girl’s fury. She had once been there too, learning how to monitor instinctual biological impulses.
One of the other hikers, an older woman called Tran changed the conversation by sharing some of their experiences of the Grand Falls, showing her some exquisitely composed images on her purpose built camera (designed more for an aesthete than a technician like her). In turn she retrieved her screen and called up specific images from her time on the peninsula.
After half an hour they glided out of the Sisstoon forest and onto the Turquoise Coast, with its blue waters and red sandstone cliffs. It was here the monorail slid under the water to glide through the majestic Southern Barrier Reef. This always silenced conversation as passengers peered intently out the window to watch the rich variety of sea life. The only sounds were gasps and excited exclamations of “wow” and “look at that”.
All too soon it was over and the monorail lifted out of the water to run along Long Beach. It stopped to pick up a big party of surfers, mostly adolescents and children. They piled in noisily, most naked, some draped in sarongs, still smelling of salt and traipsing sand everywhere. Most filled the second carriage but a few entered theirs, shoving surfboards, towels and backpacks wherever they would fit.
Ordinary conversation was thwarted with the buzz of juvenile energy as they talked excitedly, joked, flirted and teased. In the far corner a girl sat astride a boy kissing him, unconcerned about the people around her.
She turned and smiled at Prax who shared her expression of exasperated delight. She turned to her own thoughts as she watched the golden sands slide by. When she turned back she caught a glance of the girl slowly and gently lifting and dropping her hips as she continued to kiss the boy. She sighed. First love, first real passion, being so entranced by the beauty of the other that the rest of the world did not exist. In that moment she wished she were that girl.
Twenty minutes later they slid underground as they entered the outskirts of the capital. Five minutes later they stopped at the first suburban station. A few of the surfers disembarked. She looked out at the platform, its walls decorated with an intricately tiled mural - each station designed by aesthetes who had been given free rein to do as they wished.
At the next stop the hikers disembarked saying their goodbyes as they fetched their backpacks and boards. Soo waved goodbye and Nuku smiled. This stop had been decorated with murals depicting the landing of the first ships, with the twin moons of Eros and Psyche in the background. When she turned she noticed that the girl had got off the boy’s lap and was sitting beside him, distractedly stroking his erection with her left hand. The girl smiled at Nuku dreamily and she smiled back.
At the next station they disembarked, the boy’s slowly subsiding erection bobbing around as he fetched his board and handed the girl her backpack. The girl smiled at Nuku as she walked past and Nuku thought that if she were that girl, she’d be smiling too. This stop was decorated with elaborate ivory woodcarvings of athletes demonstrating a number of skills. Nuku knew this on
e. It was Glade station and it had been her father who had carved it.
The next stop was hers: Plato Square. She stood and smiled at Prax. “Where are you getting off?”
“We have to change at Central and take the New Prague line to Red Cliff.”
She nodded as the carriage glided to a stop. “See you,” she said as she alighted, having no idea that it would be soon. She looked around her at the familiar decoration of the station, a replica of a Greek temple. She climbed the stone steps, carefully sculpted to suggest millennia of wear, and breathed in the familiar air. Home.
14
Akash
The next year was a bad year. The warnings of a flu pandemic finally came to deadly fruition. A mutated strain of the M4N2 virus came out of Indonesia at the time of the Hajj pilgrimage, spreading throughout the Islamic world. The authorities acted as quickly as they could, but it spread rapidly throughout the poorer Islamic nations of North Africa. The death toll was two million. But flu pandemics usually come in cycles and the virus mutated again. The next wave took five million in North Africa and SE Asia. The third wave took seven million in Europe, spread by African refugees landing in Spain and Italy. The fourth wave was even more virulent and the drug companies could not create an antidote in time. When it hit America, India and China it took another ten million, making it far worse than the Spanish Flu pandemic of 1918. Then, as a result of many hospitals being overwhelmed, several superbugs started to appear that were resistant to the standard antibiotics. At the end of the year it was reported that thousands had died due to a mutated form of clostridium difficile and that a mutated variety of TB was appearing in Asia. Not everyone died, but many fell sick and epidemiologists were beginning to suggest that the overall health of humanity was getting worse.
The shock of so many deaths shattered the confidence of many nations. When the world economy went into another cyclic recession, things became increasingly unstable. Greece had already become a basket case but the debt crisis finally caught up with Spain, Portugal and Italy.
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