Light Speed

by Arkadie, Z. L.

  “I’m taking you to the hub.”

  “The hub?” I can’t disguise my disappointment.

  “The hub,” she repeats.

  It turns silent between us but I’m bothered by hearing the soles of my boots clunk across the clean floor. Suddenly, I feel out of place. It’s too spotless here for me. I never feel the need to conform. However, right now I kind of wish my boots were less grimy.

  Anxiously, I take a glance at Mag Star. All of this is right up her alley. Even in the little brown dress and round-toed wooden shoes with S-shaped heels, she looks impeccable. I want to ask her to explain the shoes? With all the advancements in technology, why not a sleeker shoe? But I’m sure she has a good and practical reason for the wood and the shape of the heel. After all, this is the world of no strippers, nor drunk or horny humans.

  Finally, we reach the exposed elevator shaft. I stretch my neck to look over the threshold. Before I can ask where the hell she is taking me, a female automaton voice warns me to “clear seam.”

  I immediately draw myself back to clear the doorway. A silver door slides down and then immediately shoots back up. I flinch, taken aback, surprised to see three men and one woman standing in a glass encasement.

  Seeing us, they scoot to one side to make room. Mag Star enters, but I’m now aware that I’m staring at their slight smiles and their dark green clothes which look like stiffly-ironed hospital scrubs.

  After refocusing my thoughts, I take that space the Ugu Mag clears for me next to Mag Star.

  There’s a beep.

  “Clear seam for closing,” the automaton warns.

  The door slides close. I roll my eyes up to brace myself for what might happen next. I can see the bright sky of night above us. Smirking, I think the words for it is “majestic modernism.”

  The glass cylinder drops.

  “So, I give: why the tour?” I finally ask her. “What’s this all about it?”

  “What are you hiding?” She asks.

  I quickly turn to search her face.

  That look.

  Does she know?

  I gulp.

  ***

  Adore

  “Isn’t the moon very close?” My voice whispers in the cool darkness.

  I’m not only in love with Chex, but I have come to love the night. Like him, it’s intimate. It’s alluring. I exhale into the air as we stand naked together on the threshold of the opened window. This city is uniquely wonderful. He’s behind me, I’m in front of him, and his hands are flat on my belly. I feel like I belong to him and we are in a place more perfect than home.

  His lips graze the side of my face and then kiss my skin. “I think we should stay here. What about you?”

  I gently sigh at the thought of residing in Ugu Mag forever. The city in the sky is quite peculiar, but it could never gain my heart like the diamond mountain and crystal leaves of Enu. Suddenly I feel his body shake as he chuckles against me.

  “I like your answer.”

  “But I didn’t give an answer.”

  “You thought one,” he says while rubbing the sweet chill out of my arms. “I know this is not your thing, Baby.” He sighs a warm breath against my temple. “I bet I’ll turn back into a full vampire after we leave here.”

  It’s funny how we both look down at his jacket at the same time.

  “Is that what you want?” I ask.

  Now I can feel him shrug against me. I love feeling his gestures.

  The silence is filled with his pondering. “You’ve made a promise that I know you’re going to keep. You’re going to need me for that. As a vampire.”

  I reach up to hook my hands around his neck. I’ve become comfortable with touching him. In response, his hands slip up to cup my breasts as his thumbs stimulate my nipples.

  “Again,” I purr, feeling how firm he is against me.

  “This is what happens when a guy hasn’t wanted to get it on in over two hundred years.”

  “But you said you had mules - females that liked you. Didn’t you have sex with them?”

  He takes a long pause. “No.”

  “Oh,” I say, confused.

  “They, um… usually…”

  “What?” I impatiently ask.

  “Go down on me.”

  I’m confused and he chuckles, feeling the change in my body which alerts him of that.

  “You’re newness turns me the fuck on…” he thickly whispers as he pushes his man part between the crease of my buttocks.

  “Then, if I weren’t new, then you wouldn’t want to make love to me?” I reason.

  “No.”

  “Oh,” I say passively.

  “No, not no; I wouldn’t want to make love to you if you weren’t new. You’re beautiful as hell; sexy too, but that’s never a reason to get me going. With you, it’s all of it. The newness, the sexiness, you’re brave, loyal. I can trust you. Even that damn water creature can. All of that makes me want to…” he pushes himself deeper into my buttocks. “All the fucking time. You make me insatiable. Vampire or man.”

  “Oh,” I say again in the same tone of voice. He laughs at me. “But what did you mean by go down on you.”

  He takes me and sits me down on the edge of the bed, spreads my legs and then guides my back onto the bed.

  “I’ll show you,” he whispers as he lifts my legs one on each of his shoulders. And his tongue is circling my clitoris again. I’m squirming, torn between wanting reprieve and bracing myself for the most pleasurable sensation I have ever felt. When I look down to see how he’s doing it, he’s gazing up at me. Then it happens, the pleasurable explosion and I fall back against the bed, clench the sheets and cry out. He’s inside of me before the sensation subsides. I can’t believe that a mere creature can make me feel this way. His head is tilted back and he’s easily lifting my hips up off the bed to meet him as he slams into me over and over again, going deeper. The fangs are back. Every thrust makes me want to come.

  Something has changed here. I can’t stop moaning and gasping, trying to bear the sharp and harmonic sparking.

  “Shit!” he grunts staring at my face. Then he sweeps me off the bed and holds me tight to him as he unleashes the loudest growl I have ever heard.

  *

  Chex says he can smell food nearby.

  He taps himself on the nose and boasts, “I still have this.”

  My eyelashes are fluttering as I sit cross-legged on top of the bed. “You had fangs,” I say excitedly. “I saw them. You were a Selell when we…” I remember he called it something other than ‘making love’ and it definitely was different. It was more carnal and intense.

  “Fucked,” he winks, finishing my sentence. “You see the difference?”

  “I think so,” I drop my face, simpering bashfully.

  He takes me by the chin and lifts my face. “You’re going to make me do it to you again, if you keep that up.”

  “Oh,” I hum.

  “It sounds like you prefer the vampire,” he implies.

  I take a moment to ponder the insinuation. “I believe I do,” I exclaim, even surprised at myself.

  His voice rings out in my favorite laugh. “All right, Beautiful,” he says, weaving his fingers between mine. He guides me into his solid chest, “I have to find a shower,” he kisses me quickly on the lips.

  “How do you take a shower without the waterfalls?” I ask.

  He tilts his head curiously. “You’re screwing with me, right?”

  “No,” I say; however now I wish I were.

  “You’ve never taken a shower in a shower?”

  “I’m sorry, but I have not,” I sadly admit.

  “Hey,” he whispers, once again lifting my chin up with a finger. “It’s not that serious. Come on, join me.”

  We’ve already figured out how the yellow strip works. We already used it to fold the glass away from the window and open the room to the moon. Since Chex is not that far away from it, he stretches an arm out to touch it.

  �
��Where’s the shower?” he asks.

  Two parts of the wall slide open to reveal a small chamber. In the middle of the tiny room there are three limestone steps that climb up to a round pillar that’s encased by glass.

  Right above it, a light cuts on and illuminates the entire capsule.

  “That’s our invitation, Baby,” he says and walks me with him toward the contraption.

  I follow him up the steps and into the capsule. I gaze up to see thousands of tiny droplets of water floating down toward us. Our arms give way to the change in gravity and our hands are pulled apart, arms lift, drifting above our head. Even Chex is captivated by how the delightfully warm droplets crawl down our fingers, arms, heads, faces, necks, and chests, and make their way all the way down to our toes. The liquid coating feels smooth and refreshing on my skin. I look at Chex and by the look on his face he’s just as intrigued by the “shower” as I am.

  After the last bit of water washes past our feet and disappears, he and I beam at each other in silence before erupting in laughter. What an unexpected surprise! But we immediately turn quiet when racks with garments hanging on them materialize along the walls.

  “The nonum’toks,” I whisper. “They brought garments.”

  He narrows an eye at me in question. I cut a tiny smile because he’s the one who’s new now. He smiles back because he knows exactly what I’m thinking.

  “They take care of the House of Benel,” I say, answering his look.

  “Really? What are they?” He’s very curious to know.

  “I told you—the nonum’toks.”

  “Are they humans, water people, flying shadows?”

  “They’re more like humans.”

  “Like humans?”

  “Yes.”

  I don’t know any other way to explain them. The nonum’toks are fashioned out of the stars of Earth.

  “And they bring you clothes?”

  “And food,” I add. “They take care of us.”

  “So they’re your servants.”

  “They’re not slaves,” I say, disgusted by the notion. “They desire to care for the house of Felix Benel.”

  Chex examines me with furrowed eyebrows for a moment. I’m sure soon he will voice what he’s thinking, and I’m surprised about how eager I am to know.

  “What the hell,” he whispers, and turns to face a section of clothing hanging from the racks. He steps down out of the shower and ambles over to where a number of black trench coats hang. “How the hell did these get here?” He lifts the cuff of a coat and sniffs it. “This is mine,” he says, narrowing his eyes at me.

  I’m relieved to see that his belongings are here. This means that my father approves. There’s something about Chex that remains a mystery to me. No being can merely walk through a portal and live unless their blood is connected to one of the pacts.

  “How did they know where to find this? Nobody finds my shit.”

  I hesitate because he looks so angry and it seems as if he’s directing this emotion at me. I’m trying not to take it personally, which would’ve been easier to do before we made love. “There is always one who knows where you hide, Chex,” I finally reply.

  Suddenly, the frown on his mouth fades into a wry grin. I’ve amused him somehow. “You’re not going to get me to believe in that shit,” he says snidely.

  “I already told you, belief is your choice, not mine.” Goodness, I’m being defensive.

  He cuts his eyes off of me to rifle through the black coats that hang before him. Then he takes a hanger that holds a pair of very black pants off the rack. “My favorite,” he says as if I’m not here with him.

  It was Father who taught me to never internalize the feelings and emotions of others, especially if I know I’ve done no wrong, and in this case I haven’t. The nonum’toks brought his belongings out of generosity. If he cannot appreciate that, then it is not my fault. That is why I decide to no longer dwell on his frustration. I turn away from him to rifle through a set of garments that have been reserved for me. Here’s a pair of navy blue pants in stretchy material and a long sleeved shirt, also stretchy. I’ve never seen anything like these garments before but they appeal to my eyes. I even like how the material feels against my hand and then my arm.

  “Hey you,” Chex calls to break my concentration. He no longer sounds harsh so I look over at him. He slowly steps over to where I stand. “I was just an ass, wasn’t I?”

  “An ‘ass’?” I ask confused by how he’s using that word this time.

  “Rude,” he quickly clarifies, and this time without being condescending.

  “No,” I croak because of the way he’s staring into my eyes. “You were just expressing what you felt.”

  “Ad’ru, I was being an ass,” he bluntly says. “And I don’t like speaking to you that way, and I’ll never do it again. I promise you.” He lowers his lips to mine and then his tongue is in my mouth. Our kissing is slow and passionate. I whimper in his embrace, and he whimpers too.

  He tears his mouth away from mine. “You should get dressed, now,” he breathes and then speeds out of the room, clutching his favorite pair of trousers and a black shirt.

  The loneliness joins me after he’s gone. I can certainly conclude that I do not like this feeling. Without delay, I put on the pants one leg at a time. They cling to me like a second skin. Then I slip into the shirt. There’s a shelf inside of it that holds my breasts firmly in place. I jump up and down just to test its resolve and then shake my shoulders—they barely move. I can’t stop myself from grinning, satisfied. And the pants even have pockets on the hips and the buttocks. I’ve grown to like pockets. They’re quite practical when needed.

  I bend over to pick up an odd looking pair of boots. They’re navy blue on the outside and lined with furry black fibers on the inside. The shaft extends to the knee and after I slip them on, the long part tightens, snugly around my legs. I wiggle my toes. They’re encased but comfortable, and so are the pants and the shirt. Everything I’m wearing is sufficient.

  Chex’s eyes widen when I walk onto an outside patio. He’s sitting on a white marble chair at a table formed of the same material where the ci’ke, ton’rek, and ci’cha are displayed on a silver plate. The sight of him and the fruit from the Garden of Naught causes tears to glaze my eyes. Mother knew this day would come. She knew that I wouldn’t celebrate The Tilt on dut west. But could she have known that I would become this? I look down to examine myself.

  “Wow,” Chex whispers as I rush over to join him at the table, but he hurries out of his seat to take me in his arms. He kisses me before I can sit down.

  The sweet juice of the ci’cha coats his tongue. “Umm,” I moan, savoring the familiar taste. Until now I never thought the ci’cha would ever become my favorite fruit.

  “Yeah, that’s some really good stuff over there.” He points his chin toward the table and then runs a hand through my hair. “Or it could be because I haven’t eaten food in five hundred years. Are you hungry?”

  I take a moment to assess how I feel. “Strangely, no,” I say but then all of a sudden something baffles me. “Chex, you’re eating the fruit from the Garden of Naught which is in Enu!”

  “The Garden of Naught? That sounds scary.” He searches my face, seeking a contradiction to his statement.

  “The Garden of Naught was planted in Enu by our grandmother, Zillael.”

  “Wait. Don’t you have a sister named Zillael?”

  “Yes, I do. She was named after our grandmother.” The thought makes me smile. “The Garden of Naught is supposed to bloom forever when seven sisters join hands in it. But the fruit is meant to be consumed only by us. The fruit nourishes and strengthens us in ways that aren’t even known to ourselves. But even the Enuians become ravaged by illness if they eat from the Forest, and the ci’ke, ci’cha, and ton’rek are never to be consumed by any other creature or it will kill them.”

  He lifts an eyebrow curiously. “So I should be dead?”

  “But
you’re not.” I take a moment to think. “And it’s strange that you are regaining some of your Selell traits, and you’re still hungry?”

  He nods. “I guess so,” he says thoughtfully.

  “This is all very remarkable. Don’t you agree?” I ask.

  “I do agree.” And somehow I feel like there’s something like a double meaning in his reply that’s linked to him growing firm against me.

  We stare into each other’s eyes. It’s apparent his sexual desire for me has returned. After a moment he runs a hand down the side of my face. “I’ve never seen eyes like yours on another person,” he whispers. “They’re pure emerald, like the stone.”

  “Are they?” I croak because my body is responding to his signals.

  “But what the hell are you Ad’ru.” He’s staring at me as if he’s trying to figure out the answer to his own question.

  “I am of the beings of Heaven,” I whisper, completely under his spell. “And of Enu and lastly, of Earth. Our mother is Ce’lah’ime and our father is Felix Benel.”

  “And why do you all look alike? That’s strange you know?”

  “I don’t know, we just do. But my father once said that humans were once conceived in the same way we were but they have been separated because of their natural inclination toward idolatry.”

  “Humph,” Chex grunts. “You keep talking like that and I just might believe you.” He snarls and then takes a long thoughtful pause. I respect his silence and wait for him to speak his words. “Everything that’s wrong with humans is because they worship every damn thing in the world. Money, men, books, animals, even fucking wood and shit, and they’re even worse when they do it all in the name of your Creator. They’re stupid asses and don’t even realize it’s all been done before. Before their new gods came along, there were old ones. The same shit, a different day, a different name, a different book. And there’s always a damn book.”

  I cup his chin in my hands and kiss his lips tenderly. I now understand his affliction. He has lived too many lives on Earth. Man’s greatest weakness has made him bitter.