He stood over her smiling broadly. “Come on sleepy head. A dip will refresh you.”
She sat up realising that she felt a bit clammy and coated in the sweet juices of the night before. He had indeed proved to be virile, ejaculating at least three times (that she could count). He had tried to exhaust her but she was too competitive, urging him to explore every position and orifice. In the end it had been a stalemate and they had collapsed into a deep sleep, completely satiated.
He led her down the steps; she staggered a little, still groggy. The house was quiet, the others still asleep. The morning air had a slight, sweet smelling chill. A group of draco were chirping in the morning and a flock of white howlers wheeled overhead.
“Stop, I need a piss,” she said.
He stopped and waited, watching her as she pissed a torrent where she stood. “Impressive bladder,” he commented nonchalantly.
She shrugged her shoulders and indicated for him to move on. A well-worn path followed the creek to the sea. There was very little beach, just some sand around the mouth of the creek. The rest was a tumble of rocks and tidal rock pools. She followed as he climbed the rocks to a ledge on the cliff face. He stood and waved for her to follow him. He was standing in the golden light of the sunrise and he looked beautiful, his long hair blowing in the breeze. He lifted on his toes and then dove into the water, completing a full somersault.
She was not to be outdone. She reached the ledge and looked down at Aris treading water and gesturing for her to dive. It looked high from where she stood but she had grown up diving from rock ledges into the lakes in the north. To Aris she looked like the goddess Artemis: strong, athletic, her muscles rippling with tension as she held her position before the dive. There was not an ounce of fat on her and despite her pre-pubertal age, every muscle was defined. Some would have said she looked masculine (and he feminine) except for the small, almost invisible cleft of her vulva. He had been attracted immediately.
She dove, her enhanced strength allowing her to leap high and to complete a full somersault with a half twist. The shock of the water was thrilling as she allowed resistance to bring her to a natural stop. The shock washed away her sleepiness. She looked up. She was deep and all she could see was Aris’s feet treading water above her. She swam up to him, making a cheeky grab for his legs to pull him under. They wrestled playfully, caught their breaths and then Aris indicated for her to duck dive. She followed him as he swam to a small reef with brightly coloured coral teeming with fish and crustaceans. She could have stayed down longer because of her enhanced lung capacity, but he signalled he had to ascend. When they surfaced he gasped for air, she was breathing normally.
“You’re amazing,” he said.
“And you are beautiful,” she replied suddenly, surprising them both with her confession.
They raced to the rocks. She beat him easily. He watched as she clambered out effortlessly. His reaction was immediate. She laughed as she saw him scramble out, a full erection bobbing about. He collapsed onto a large flat section of rock. She couldn’t resist him. She leant over him and kissed him tenderly. “I mean it you know, you are beautiful.” She kissed his chest and then his stomach, the tip of his erection.
“So are you,” he said pulling her back to his lips.
She adjusted her position to straddle him and she lowered herself onto him as if it was the most natural thing. It was different this morning. There was no urgency, no competition. Intellectually she understood their systems were flooded with oxytocin, creating a sense of closeness, but there was also another level at work. She liked Aris, felt connected at some deeper level. Whatever happened next she felt they would become friends for life, perhaps he might even father some of her children
There was no rush to orgasm. The delight was in the intimacy. They became absorbed in each other. When the orgasm arrived it was slow and deep. She thought that he would have been emptied the night before but he seemed to ejaculate copiously as she shuddered with wave after wave of bliss.
When they arose from their reverie they realised they were not alone. The other children of the circle had made their way down to the rocks and were swimming and diving, unconcerned that they had caught their older brother mid coitus. It wasn’t anything they hadn’t seen before. When the children saw they had returned to the world they called for him and Cynthia to join them. It was a perfect moment, a moment she was filled with the most perfect happiness.
“Come on papa,” Ana squatted beside him shaking his shoulder. “Time to rise.” He opened his eyes slowly and smiled. She smiled at him contentedly. “That was a perfect night.”
She grabbed his hand and pulled him up, leading him to the shower. They soaped each other gently and sensuously. It was narcissistic but it was delicious. She washed his balls and penis. “Do you think if I was male my cock would be the same size and shape?”
“Very likely. Do you think if I was female I’d have the same breasts and clit?” he said as he washed her.
He became erect and she adjusted her position so he could enter her from behind. He knew he was beyond reason. He had completely surrendered to a once forbidden impulse. When he ejaculated she asked him to stay inside her as she consciously used her vaginal muscles to suck his semen in, not wanting to lose a drop. He pulled out slowly as she held tight. He could almost hear her purring.
They dried each other slowly, unable to separate.
“I have a feeling we conceived last night.”
“Intuition?”
“Probably wishful thinking. I’ll still keep the samples. Who knows, I may create more clones, a whole family of identicals, except of different ages.” She smiled to suggest she might be joking, but he was not so sure.
They walked out to a near empty house. The only person around was Ana’s mother, Diana. They had not conceived Ana naturally because Diana was almost exclusively same-sex attracted, rather he had donated his sperm. Ana hugged Diana and they shared a private word, with Diana looking at him and smiling. Clearly she was in on his daughter’s little conspiracy.
“Where are the others?” he asked.
“Swimming,” Diana said. “I’ve just called them.”
Cynthia was squatting on the rocks, hugging her legs, watching the young ones demonstrate their diving skills, when little lights flashed around them. There was an audible moan. “We have to go back for breakfast,” said Aris. They filed back, letting the sun and breeze dry their dripping bodies, pissing in the bushes before they tumbled into the house.
She was shocked when she walked in. Prax was sitting very close to his daughter, her hand resting on his thigh. She knew immediately that they had fucked. How was this possible? It was then her reason jumped in. She shouldn’t jump to conclusions; besides, it was none of her business. Instinctively she looked to Aris and he sidled up beside her. She saw it all happen. She was signalling to Prax that she had found a new mate, his son, but she was fully aware of it. What had changed? Suddenly she didn’t care as she looked at Prax and Ana wrapped in their little bubble.
They fetched their breakfast: pancakes, fruit, juice and spice toast. She sat next to Ana and warmly kissed her on the cheek. There was no reason for them to be enemies. She was instead indicating that they were now allies. Ana seemed surprised but accepted it, whispering conspiratorially, “and how was the contest?”
“A draw and a truce. It is no longer a game.”
Aris sat beside her and Ana noticed his smile of contentment. She placed a reassuring hand on Cynthia’s thigh and squeezed it to show her approval.
“And it seems you had a successful night?” Cynthia whispered.
Ana seemed surprised and could not help but nod in acknowledgement.
Cynthia looked at Prax and knew something important had changed. He saw the look but did not respond, as implacable as ever. Had he known that letting her have her way would be the catalyst for a new understanding? Perhaps all she needed was to surrender to her deeper impulses, trusting that her reason would return that muc
h the wiser? Wasn’t this the essence of the Spanda teaching? That we are our natures and that fighting it is futile? That a deeper peace, a more grounded ataraxia, was to be realised by embracing reality and not escaping to some fantasy, some imagined paradise? Wasn’t the most fundamental task of humanity to create paradise in the here and now?
They had a few hours left before she had to get ready to head into the capital. They had time to have sex again, but instead they talked, sharing tales of their childhoods. This was the stage of establishing a deeper connection.
She didn’t want to leave, didn’t want to put on her sarong and hide her cunt from her lover. She wanted to bask in the afterglow, sleep in his arms in the afternoon and stay up all night fucking.
Prax was torn. Ana had dressed and left for the Academy. She had looked beautiful in a Khmer-style sarong and gold anklets, her blonde hair tied in a ponytail. He had wanted her to stay, to talk, to make love again, but he also had work to do and he was staring at a screen about to call his senior in the order, a woman called Thea. Intellectually he knew exactly what was happening. The genetic closeness to Ana had created a very strong tidal pull of oxytocin and pheromones. This tidal pull created a high degree of emotion. It was the price he had to pay for crossing the line. He was thinking of resigning from the order so he could help Ana parent their child. His heart said yes, but his mind said no. He hadn’t even asked Ana if that was what she wanted. Indeed, there were very good reasons why he shouldn’t.
It was Cynthia who pulled him out of his inner turmoil.
“Mentor, we have to go.” He looked up to see her dressed in her sarong, still holding Aris’s hand.
“Yes,” he stood, already dressed in preparation.
Cynthia turned to kiss Aris and they had difficulty parting, but finally she and Prax walked down the path with Aris waiving goodbye from the front door. They said nothing as they made their way to the station, each wrapped in their own thoughts.
They got off at Common station, just a short walk from the Common itself. It was designed in the Byzantine classical style, with alcoves holding marble statues of idealised, naked figures: children, adolescents, adults (but unlike Earth statues all the females were sculpted with realistic vulvas and some of the men and boys were in various stages of tumescence). They entered the sunlight and found themselves on a broad white sand stone plaza featuring a statue of the god Eros penetrating the beautiful mortal Psyche, her back arched at the point of orgasm and his wings curled in ecstasy. This one had been sculpted by the pupil of Han Tsung, Odile Laplace, who some argued had exceeded her master before she had died in a tragic accident. They stopped to admire it, as many did. Somehow, miraculously, she had managed to create the illusion that the marble was as soft as skin; to capture every vein, muscle and sinew, and every delicate fold of Psyche’s labia and clitoris as Eros’s perfect erection paused at the entrance of her vagina. Many argued that this was the finest neoclassical sculpture ever made, including by the old Earth masters - which is why it had been given pride of place in Common Plaza.
Cynthia ran her hands across the marble, in awe of Laplace’s skill. She was a simple stonemason, but she harboured ambitions of turning to sculpture, although this masterpiece was enough to create doubts in any aspiring aesthete. She could swear Laplace had captured the energy of orgasm, surely she could see Psyche breathing?
Prax had to drag her away but her awe was not diminished. The Common was at its best from this angle, every line of the plaza leading the eye to its marble columns and golden domes. A shadow passed over the plaza as a large hover made its way to the landing area. She looked up to see a flock of red draco twist and turn in the sky and silver drones go about their work.
They walked into the grand hall, everything showcasing the skill of the builders. She had seen vids of its construction. It was such a large project that they had designed special levitators and drones to lift the laser-cut blocks into place. It had been an intricate dance controlled by the central AI, the engineers like magicians willing the heavy blocks to float into place. What would have taken years on old Earth took months. Then the artisans had arrived to do the fine work by hand.
Prax’s guardian directed them to some side steps, which led them to an alcove overlooking the broad expanse of the bay. It was here Cynthia’s guardian informed her she was to wait. She obeyed without question, turning to admire the view as Prax entered.
“Prax, good to see you.” It was Maeve Goya, an old friend from his days in Congress.
“Ma’am,” he said bowing to formally acknowledge her authority.
“Come, give an old friend a hug.” She moved forward and he embraced her warmly. She might be a justice now but he had known her as a colleague and had shared many a meal and a drink over intense conversations about politics and policy.
“I thought you had decided to accept menopause?” he said as he tenderly stroked her bulging belly.
“I had but now I’m just lending my womb as a surrogate, aided by hormone therapy of course.”
He was surprised. “That’s an extraordinary step, must be special.”
“Very special, but I’m afraid I can’t say anything more until we get over some formalities.”
He nodded. “Are those for your guests or you?” he smiled, pointing to the éclairs and sweet cakes.
She smiled. He knew her too well.
“Are you Praxiteles Smith?”
“Yes.”
He considered each request carefully, his expression blank. Unlike the others she could not easily tell what he was thinking. The only time he reacted was when she informed him he might be required to kill and even then he only raised an eyebrow. When she had finished and he was bound to confidentiality she dropped the formality.
He was blunt with his first question. “What is the source of the threat?”
She acknowledged the question with a small nod of affirmation. “I am personally not at liberty to divulge the details, but you will be fully briefed in due course.”
He nodded. “And the matter of my apprentice?”
“Ah, yes, Cynthia Grimaldi. That did present us with a problem. Whilst we respect the decision you have both made I will guess that you already know the answer. You will not see her after this meeting and your agreement with her has been formally annulled. I am informed that she has accepted the same conditions as you, but her path is different.”
“Different?”
“Yes, understanding that you are bound by a confidentiality agreement and given your trusted position as a respected member of Congress, I can tell you here that under section twelve of the Accord…”
This time he raised both eyebrows because he knew exactly what she was about to say.
“The justices and elders have found it necessary to create a defence force and Cynthia enlisted not more than a minute ago. She will depart the capital in a few hours, fully aware of what has been asked of her.”
“Is the threat imminent?”
Her expression and silence told him all he needed to know.
He remained silent, processing his emotions: shock, foreboding and hubris – because he had long urged that the Common should never assume that in this universe they were safe.
“And the child?”
“I have to assume you will eventually put two and two together, but the genetic mother is Tshentso Jayarama.”
“Tshentso?”
“Her ova are too valuable. We don’t want to lose a single one. She has asked us to take some of her eggs, twelve in all, which means there are twelve surrogates. In time we will remove all of her ova. She will then accept a permanent pre-pubertal state. It is her wish.”
“The fathers…?”
“Carefully chosen and you will be one of them.”
“Pardon?”
“We couldn’t tell you until now but you donated your sperm last night.”
He turned red, his immediate reaction anger. “Ana?” he blurted. “But why the deception?”
“Because she was bound and couldn’t tell you the truth. Oh, it was partially true. She will still conceive your child but some of your sperm will be used to fertilise one of Tshentso’s dormant ova. The surrogate is waiting and the operation will happen in the next few days.”
“Who?”
“I honestly don’t know. None of us know who the others are. She could be my age or a youngster having her first child. They have been chosen because of their fitness and compatibility.”
“But you could have easily asked me to donate at another time.”
“Possibly, but it really was the best time. Your genetic closeness to Ana acted to increase your motility. You have always been sexually compatible with your daughter and as soon as you knew you would see her, your sperm count increased in anticipation. You could not have been conscious of this.”
“But Ana was?”
“It’s all a well-understood pre-conscious process that Ana was well aware of. Her feelings for you are genuine. It created the optimum conditions. It will be more difficult after this. You will be under some stress and that can decrease motility. You must trust us; trust the Elders. Our best weapon will be our genetic superiority. That has always been the larger plan. We may be looking at a new species, the next step: homo Edensis,” she added with a faint smile. “But tell me, now that you know, do you object to being the father of a potential new species of hominid?”
He was dumbfounded. “Now that you put it that way, no, and is this Tshentso’s plan?”
“Yes.”
“And is she in the capital?”
Maeve considered him carefully. “No my dear friend she is not, she is not even on Eden.”
He sat down stunned.
“There is one more thing Prax, which may help explain why things have happened as they have. We must ask you to surrender your time effective immediately. You are to meet strategos Shimazu…”
“Vera Shimazu?”
“Yes, head of the newly commissioned Eden Defence Force. She will tell you everything, operational details that even I do not know. A hover is waiting for you now.”
Paradise Reclaimed Page 12