His heart was beating with the release of adrenalin as he boarded the hover. He was the only one on board, the hover already programmed and in no need of a pilot. He looked out the window as the ground fell away and he caught a glimpse of the capital stretched out across the beautiful archipelago, the sunlight reflecting off the blue waters.
An imminent threat? He could only assume that they had encountered a hostile civilisation, or a hostile civilisation had found them, but one thing was certain, they would now be rushing to build the capacity to defend Eden. He tried to calm his mind. There was no point in speculating. He closed his eyes and consciously calmed his heart rate.
Cynthia was exhilarated. The decision had been surprisingly obvious and easy. A defence force. Her mind was immediately filled with thoughts of adventure, of being part of an expeditionary force exploring new planets, skilled in defending the team from danger.
Of course she had thought of her night with Aris. She would see him again, she felt certain. But this? This was too good an opportunity to resist.
She almost ran to the hover. There were three already on board, all bird-eyes from the north. They smiled when they saw her and introduced themselves: two girls and a boy. They were naked so she undid her white apprentice’s sarong and let it flutter to the ground as the hover rose and then banked, heading east.
“A newbie,” asked one of the girls.
Cynthia nodded. “How long have you been in?”
“Six months, the first wave. We’ve been on furlough,” added the boy.
“Where are we headed?” she asked.
“Further east than you’ve ever been. Camp Glory.”
21
Biyu
She was feeling a strange, disorientating mixture of exhilaration and dread, her stomach churning as she returned to the park. She understood her life was at a dramatic turning point and she knew she would say yes. She thought of Zoe and was immediately hungry for her kiss, perhaps because she knew she might soon never see her again.
She wandered through the park aimlessly. She was thirsty and found a drinking fountain that had been humorously sculpted to replicate both male and female genitalia. She chose the female spout and bent forward over the spread vulva, turned the tap and drank deeply. She had time to herself but wasn’t sure what to do. She wandered onto a lawn of purple velvet grass and stretched out in the sun. She watched as children in the distance threw a disc and a triad of young lovers, two girls and a boy, kissed and fondled each other under a large boon tree dripping with orange flowers. It would be another two hours before she was due to meet with Zoe and her friends but she could not wait, watching the young triad was causing her cunt to ache.
“Is Zoe able to speak?” she asked her guardian.
“Biyu, fuckbaby, what’s up? I’m on a short break.”
“I finished early. I need to see you.”
“If you come now you’ll be able to catch the pas de deux, but hurry.”
“Which auditorium?”
“The Saraswati.”
She jumped up and ran, glad of a chance to burn off some energy, using all her parkour skills to dodge and weave around people and leap over park benches and walls to take the shortest route. She arrived in the auditorium just in time, sweating just a little but hardly missing a breath. She sat quietly up the back, behind the director and choreographer, respecting Zoe’s need to concentrate. Zoe walked out from the wings with another female dancer, her friend Mjembo, both as naked as the original dancers of pre-Islamic India. She had met Zoe when they were young and both training as gymnasts. Where she had shown strength and stamina, Zoe had shown grace and control and had naturally moved toward rhythmic gymnastics and dance. She was taller and had accepted puberty, although at fifteen her dancer’s body was still slender and her breasts small. She saw that Zoe had seen her but would not break discipline to acknowledge her. She gave a small wave as the choreographer gave some final directions before the director signalled for the music to start, a specially commissioned piece in shanta raga. She had seen Zoe dance many times but not this new piece, although Zoe had certainly told her about the story. It told of the classic tale of the tension in all relationships; between the need to be alone and the need to be totally absorbed in the other; between attraction and repulsion, love and anger. It was something she was acutely aware of given she was known for her testosterone driven anger.
It was a difficult routine of lifts, leaps, twists and tendon snapping contortions. At times they threw each other to the ground or in the air; at other times they met in passionate embraces, folding into and twisting around each other. At times it was intensely erotic with hands and mouths touching vulvas; in one difficult move they had to perform a close standing arabesque with a hyperextension beyond one eighty degrees, clasping each other’s extended legs in such a way that their vulvas touched. Then they bent over backwards, maintaining the extension whilst slowly peeling away from each other.
Perhaps she should have been a bit envious seeing Zoe and Mjembo in such close contact. Instead she was aroused. She knew Zoe was poly and she didn’t mind joining in, besides she had fucked Mjembo at a party the year before – she had fucked most of Zoe’s friends, male and female, at one time or another.
Finally the rehearsal was over with the choreographer making some corrective suggestions to refine the performance. When it was clear the feedback was over Zoe waved for her to join her backstage.
She embraced her tightly and kissed her passionately as soon as she saw her.
“Whoa, fuckbaby, you are on fire,” laughed Zoe.
“What about me Biyu?” joked Mjembo.
“That was amazing. I am so fired up I could leave you both in a heap on the floor,” she said as she turned and kissed Mjembo as equally passionately, placing her hand on her vulva and sliding a finger in. “And you’re wet. Did my baby turn you on?”
“Ahah, as always,” she said sighing, letting Biyu aggressively begin to thrust her fingers in deeper.
Zoe gently pulled them apart. “Later girls. Save it all for the club.”
“The club?” asked Biyu.
“Yeah, some of the music students have formed a new bass jazz band. We have a day off tomorrow and a few of us plan to paint up, take some juice and dance and fuck ourselves into oblivion.” She grabbed Biyu and kissed her, using her free hand to squeeze her labia together to tease her, something she knew would drive Biyu crazy. “Then we’ll see who will be lying in a heap on the floor.”
She joined the other dancers in the dressing room as they showered. Some of Zoe’s acting and musician student friends joined them carrying vials of body paint and random bits and pieces raided from the costume department. Biyu took off her sarong, asking her guardian to mark it and to get a drone to drop it off at her home in a few days. Then she surrendered to the aesthetic direction of a dancer called Paul who decorated her with bright coloured neon stripes. After about an hour they admired their handiwork: a phantasmagoria of hallucinogenic neo-tribal body paint, bright feather head gear and glowing bands of jewellery made from a bioluminescent gel inserted into clear resin rings, tubes and pendants.
They turned heads as they rioted through the park, doing flips and cartwheels and generally showing off to whoever was watching, everyone smiling at the display of youthful exuberance.
They ate at a restaurant specialising in spicy northern food and Arcadian beer. The conversation was loud and fast. Biyu stayed close to Zoe but eagerly became involved in the conversation and laughter, quickly forgetting the momentous decision she had made earlier.
As night descended they made their way to the harbour area and the club, their neon body paint beginning to glow with the bioluminous agent that formed part of the pigment. Other people were joining the throng; most of them adolescent, with a smattering of preebs also out for a night of excitement (who, as citizens, were well within their rights). They commandeered a booth and ordered their first round of amp, a stimulant and aphrodisiac derived f
rom the Kali fungi.
Slow electronic music started and Zoe pulled Biyu to the dance floor where they danced the libre, a close dance based on the Latin dances of old Earth. Biyu savoured every moment feeling the familiarity of Zoe’s body and breathing in her scent.
After another round of amp and a cocktail or two, all of the males were gloriously erect (and the amp would make sure they stayed that way for a few hours more). The band started filling the club with loud polyrhythmic music that demanded movement.
Midway through the night and after a short break in which the revellers had spilled outside for a bit of fresh air and a piss into the purpose built urinals, the band announced the next set would be a free-all. Zoe clapped her hands with delight. The rules were simple. If you were on the dance floor then you were acknowledging you could be fondled and fucked by anyone within the defined movements of the dance. It was essentially an orgy with movement. The girls outnumbered the boys, but this didn’t matter as all sorts of combinations were permitted. She and Zoe soon lost themselves in the sensations. As she clasped Zoe close, kissing her and stroking her clit, a boy danced up to her from behind and deftly inserted his erection into her anus. He danced with her for a while before he pulled out to find another partner. Zoe spotted a pretty preeb boy being penetrated by an older boy and danced up to him, deftly lifting her leg and guiding his small erection in, all the time swaying to the beat. Biyu was penetrated a further three times, twice vaginally and again anally in a double: girls and boys kissed and fondled her and rhythmically dropped to their haunches to lick her clit or her arse. She returned the favour for anyone within reach. She was getting close to an explosive orgasm. Zoe found her at the right moment and as the beat increased she could hear people moaning with orgasms. She exploded, recovered then exploded again, the amp amplifying every sensation. When Zoe reached orgasm and shuddered in her arms, she felt tears well up and she was overwhelmed with ecstasy.
The music stopped and the dancers staggered back to their booths. People were still fucking and would do so until they were fully satiated. Zoe dragged her outside into the fresh air. It was chill but that was only due to the fact their skin was moist with sweat.
“Let’s go somewhere quiet, my ears are buzzing,” said Zoe a little loudly.
They headed toward the park, choosing a path that took them to Betty’s Outlook which gave a commanding view of the bay and the Common sitting opposite, lit with coloured lasers.
They found a patch of velvet grass and lay down. They made love this time, gently, deliberately, until they fell asleep in each other arms.
Biyu still hadn’t told Zoe her news.
22
Nuku
The plan was to catch the hydrofoil up the coast to Cascade Island where some of her former circle lived: David, a mathematician and composer and Miriam, an architect. She was feeling ambivalent. She did want to see them, eat, talk and then fuck later – she did want some sexual release – but she was also feeling confused and distracted and didn’t think she’d be much company. She knew they would be pleased to see her no matter how she felt; they knew her moods well enough. It was more that she didn’t want to burden them.
She made the decision, shook off her doubt, walked to the dock and boarded the hydrofoil. She found a window seat and gazed distractedly out the window as it backed out of the dock, its propellers churning the water. She caught a movement out of the corner of her eye and looked up to see a young girl of about ten settling into a seat opposite, folding her legs under her and reaching into a small knapsack to retrieve a screen. She noticed Nuku looking at her and smiled in a greeting before returning her attention to her screen. Nuku thought the girl was very pretty and her smile warm and confident.
She returned her attention to the bay as the hydrofoil slowly positioned itself before picking up speed and lifting out of the water. In the middle distance she could see yachts racing, Tempest class she thought.
“Excuse me ma’am,” the girl said formally.
Nuku looked up and smiled at her. “Yes?”
“Aren’t you Dr Papatuanuku Teixeira?”
“Yes, but my friends call me Nuku.”
“I thought it was you. I just checked my screen. I was watching a paper you delivered at the Academy before your fieldwork trip just a few days ago. I’ve read most of your papers…”
Nuku tilted her head and furrowed her brows as if to ask if she should know this girl.
“Sorry, I’m Isla, Dr Isla Campbell…”
“I’ve heard that name…”
The girl smiled. “I’m at the Academy, biology, exobiology actually…”
“Ah yes, you wrote that paper with Chan on, what was it again exactly?”
“The universality of carbon based life. We explained why life could never form from other elements, like silicon.”
“Yes, that’s right, your experiments were pretty conclusive, impressive.” She knew exactly who Isla was; a precocious biology prodigy who had entered the Academy just a couple of years ago, aged eight.
“I hope I’m not imposing, but I followed your adventures, well, some of them, as much as I could, given everything…”
Nuku watched as Isla suddenly went quiet, almost blushing. It was clear she was having an internal dialogue with her guardian who had flashed its light just to her left. Just then her own guardian’s light flashed and it told her that Isla had been granted a high security status and was free to continue.
“Sorry about that, I almost put my foot in some soompoo shit.”
“So I gather it’s true then?”
Isla looked reflexively around her to see if they could be overhead (which wasn’t really necessary as their guardians would warn them of any potential security breach). “Yes, two planets. We are preparing away teams now. I’m on one. I can’t wait, that’s why I’ve been studying you.”
“You’re on one?”
“Yes, I’m one of the most qualified,” she replied, trying to mask the fact that she was offended.
“I’m sorry, of course, it’s just that they haven’t announced anything…”
“No, we aren’t certain yet. It’s not a big secret. It’s just that speculation and rumours won’t help. It may come to nothing.”
“But there is life?”
“Oh yes, abundant life. A small planet, 0.67 Eden’s mass, at the tail end of an ice age but with a very promising tropical zone, and a larger planet with 1.2 of Eden’s mass. That’s where I’m going. From what we’ve seen there’s some fascinating variations and adaptations: enormous forests with the tallest trees in the known universe. They expel their seeds into the upper atmosphere where they ride high altitude winds.”
“I’ve just been drafted myself.”
“Oh really?” asked Isla. “Maybe they’re expanding the team?”
“Maybe I’m going to the smaller one.”
Isla seemed puzzled for a moment and her enthusiasm waned. “Yes, possibly you are.”
There was a moment of awkward silence. “How long have they known?” Nuku asked to break it.
“Oh, a year. Both were discovered quite close to each other, neighbouring systems just three light years apart.”
“A year?”
“Oh, I know, I only found out a month ago myself. Where are you headed?”
The change of topic took her by surprise. “Oh, Cascade, I have old circle friends there. And you?”
“After that, Bilson’s Point. I’ve joined a circle there, spending a day, then back to the preparations.”
Nuku smiled and tried to hide her shock. It was unusual for such a young girl to make a commitment and join a circle. Citizens her age were usually still only experimenting with sex and close relationships. She was indeed precocious.
“So tell me about the peninsula, weren’t you afraid, lonely? I understand the tribals have formed closed circles?” Isla continued.
They spent the rest of Nuku’s journey talking fieldwork. Most of Isla’s questions were about t
he psychological effects of being away from civilisation. Only occasionally did Nuku glance out the window to see the coast gliding by.
They embraced as new friends when the hydrofoil docked at Cascade Island and Nuku disembarked.
“I’m back in the capital day after tomorrow. Perhaps we should have dinner?” Isla yelled.
“Of course,” she yelled back before she realised that Isla might have just invited her out for a date.
Isla smiled. “Good, you’ve got a week, perhaps we can hang out, talk biology?”
“Sure, see you then.”
As she walked away she realised she had not told Isla that she had been given a week. How did she know? And why was such a young girl privy to such information? It was all rather disconcerting, but of course she was speculating – or had her intuition picked up a pattern that her conscious mind had not?
She took the coastal path that would take her across the white sands of Cascade beach. She could just make out the house sitting carefully camouflaged on the top of a small headland. It had been designed by Miriam to mimic the natural cliff face and the only reason she knew it was there was because she had helped build it, devoting six months working as a builder’s labourer and general dog’s body. When she got to the base of the cliff her guardian flashed it’s light.
“They know you’ve arrived and are sending down the lev lift.”
“Oh, that’s new,” she said automatically; although she knew her guardian would regard it as rhetorical. She looked up and a silver disc of around two metres began to descend. When it touched the sand she stood on it, held the handrail and it lifted her effortlessly, placing her on the patio where David, Miriam and a surprise guest were waiting. David and Miriam embraced and kissed her immediately.
“And this is Maxim Du Plessy, Maxim, this is Nuku.”
“Pleased to meet you,” said Maxim, kissing her on her left cheek.
She was delightfully surprised. She knew exactly who Maxim was - a celebrity - once Eden’s finest boy soprano and now famously the first genetic castrati. She had heard him sing when he was younger and like most girls had had a massive crush on him. Oh yes, she had known he was primarily same-sex attracted and had been involved in open pederast relationships with some famous men (which had fuelled some of her fantasies). He had been the muse for several composers and artists and the subject of one of Eden’s most famous love ballads, You Tear my Soul Apart. But here he was now, a beautiful, feminine youth with an impressive cock decorated with gold rings, one at the base and one at the tip: albeit minus scrotum and testicles.
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