Light Speed

by Arkadie, Z. L.

  I put my gaze back on the layout. What I see makes me come to one conclusion: the Ugu Mag sure have it good. Humongous foliage pods in the shape of three-leafed clovers rise out of a vast lake. This one’s different than the one we left behind us. “The first people” lie out on these pods and some have half of their bodies submerged in the water and the other half resting on top of the pod. These people are gathered in groups and are leisurely socializing. I can see who’s shooting the cloth in the air. It’s a group of children and they’re using what looks like a cannon to do it. They’re giggling and jumping around on that pod, seemingly having a lot of fun. On the pod in the dead center of the pond, a number of musicians are playing harps, cellos, and violins with their bows. I must say that it’s beautiful music—enough to make me almost wish Telman was romantic enough to take me in his arms and spin me for a few turns.

  Far off on the dry grassy land that lines the pond are fire pits. That’s where the food is. And, yes, it’s true: the Ugu Mag are baring it all - breasts, penises, bushes, butts, all of it, and so are we. Except, I don’t have a bush, and neither do the females of my race - I guess to make it easier for vampires to access us.

  “I say we start here and end up back there,” he says, pointing his chin toward the fire pits.

  “After me,” I reply and dive into the water without delay.

  I can feel Telman beside me as I seek out the pod that has the most bodies dangling from it. Once we find it, I swim to one side of it and Telman goes to the other side. That’s how we like to invade groups of socializing humans, as if we are strangers. It makes it all the more interesting, especially on Earth. It’s so damn funny to watch the chicks compete for Telman’s attention. The sad part is he only has a craving for me, and they’re forced to watch him nearly eat me alive with his eyes the entire time. Poor girls.

  But the Ugu Mag women we’ve joined hardly notice him and the men aren’t gawking at me in the way Earthmen do. What’s even more interesting is that our invasion into their circle doesn’t seem to make any of them uncomfortable. On the contrary! They move over and make room for us.

  “Ocum, luzk, cumpon, oeyoz bo lumom,” says the female with the shaved head and skin as white as a marshmallow.

  I know this language. Sometimes my father combines it with Enuian. Telman lifts his eyebrows at me because he recognizes it too. She just said: “The chords are high tenor and they sound like sex.”

  “The 2y, xz, eregop,” replies a male, stark opposite of the girl in appearance, - his skin is as dark as charcoal and his wooly black hair is longer than mine.

  “I do hear it,” another says, “the tones of infinity.”

  “How did you get that scar on your face?” the girl with the freckled shoulders asks.

  She’s staring at my cheek, rotating her head from one side to the other to view my mark at different angles.

  I run a finger down the depression. I always forget it’s there until someone points it out.

  “I underestimated my opponent,” I mutter, remembering the fight.

  It was a bastillon, a creature of the Moksoar Sea. Its body is long and scaly, mouth wide, teeth sharp because it’s from the dragon family. What sets it apart from others of its species is that it has twenty sharp claws lining the fins on both sides of its body. Going against my father’s wishes, Telman and I took it upon ourselves to pilfer the only pearl link from the black caves the bastillon guards. Needless to say, we failed. I’m fast but it somehow caught me in its claws and nearly tore me to shreds. I had more gashes than the one on my face. This was not the first time that we chose to defy the great Felix Benel, nor the last. However he picked this opportunity to teach me a lesson. I never knew I was vain until I woke up with the mark on my face. I begged him to make it go away, but he refused. He said, “It will heal Na’ta when it’s ready to heal.” That was four hundred Earth years ago. I don’t really mind it being there anymore. There comes a time when we accept what we can’t figure out how to change.

  The Ugu Mag situated around the pod look confused by what I just said. It is almost as if they are waiting for me to explain further. At the end of the very moment of pause, the girl with the freckles narrows her eyes at my chest.

  “Your breasts are unique,” she says. “They slope above the sprig. It’s attractive.”

  “Oh,” I sing, staggered by her comment. I instinctively look down at them. Yes, I see the difference between our breasts. Mine are cone-shaped and plump and hers are round and plump.

  “I agree,” Telman says, smirking at me.

  She whips her head around to face him. “You are attracted to her?” she asks.

  “You have no idea,” he says in English, narrowing his eyes at me. Then he flippantly says something in their language equivalent to, “But she’s not attracted to me.”

  “What tongue did you speak?” the male beside me asks Telman.

  “English,” he answers.

  They get that confused look on their face again.

  “It’s an ancient language,” I chime in.

  “There are no ancient languages. We have one language,” the female with the freckled shoulders says.

  “You are not Ugu Mag, are you?” asks a girl with hair as red as Fawn’s.

  Usually it is now that Telman and I scram because we have just exposed ourselves. When he spoke English he poked the dragon. However, like me, he doesn’t believe the Ugu Mag are capable of breathing fire.

  He and I make eye contact. We are in agreement. “I’m from Enu; he’s from Earth,” I reveal.

  I already anticipate where the questions will lead. They will ask what we are and if I am to remain honest with them, I’ll have to admit that Telman is a Selell. Most universes are at least a little knowledgeable of vampires. As on the Earth, legends of blood-sucking, night-crawling transmogrified humans exist in other worlds. After hearing there’s a vampire wading in their pond, they’ll probably scatter like frightened dolphins do when a great white shark races into their midst.

  “Listen?” The male with the long bushy hair says, inclining his ear toward the sky. “The harmony is spinning past infinity!” He’s very excited.

  “It has arrived!” Another exclaims.

  At once, every single one of them emerges from the water and hops onto the sprig. The leaf easily bears the weight of them dancing on it. Flabbergasted, Telman and I watch their wet, naked figures. There’s something appealing about the way they are moving. Their arms glide up and high above their heads. That’s where their hands lock with the nearest person. Then they hike up one leg to link it with their neighbor’s and then lower it while simultaneously doing the same with the other leg. It is the most fascinating scene. The ballad chimes one long harmonious note and suddenly they all bend over and crouch low, waiting for the melody to change. Telman and I lock eyes. We speak without having to say a word. I can read his mind.

  And now he’s right in front of me. Together we stop holding on to the sturdy leaf and let ourselves sink to the bottom of the pond. It’s deep and although we can’t hear the beautiful song, he’s dancing me along the floor of the lake. My unromantic vampire has been inspired by the music. He shuffles me against the pressure of the water, moving past dangling legs and a few startled deep-water swimmers. This shuffle we’re doing doesn’t feel corny as it would’ve a while ago. His eyes hold me captive. I hear his voice in my head say I love you and I say it back to him. Finally, we’re dripping wet as our feet sink into the spongy grass. We haven’t pulled apart. After a moment he lets go of me to cup his hands over my breasts.

  “I’ve been wanting to do this ever since the smart Mag chick took notice of how magnificent they are.” He smirks.

  I sniff, chuckling.

  He suggestively lifts an eyebrow. “Maybe we should go back and join Adore and Vestop in the trees.”

  I’m very tempted. My nipples want to feel the wetness and warmth of his mouth. I want him to take me and ravish me in the way only Telman can. He’ll shove
me against one of those tree trunks. We’ll break it in half. He’ll thrust himself so far up inside of me that it will feel like he’ll bust through me.

  “They’re dancing the wey’lo’lol!” Adore exclaims.

  Telman and I break eye contact and turn to see Adore and Chex standing at the edge of the lake, watching the Ugu Mag continue their strange dance. Her hair is all tossed upon her head. She smells and glows like sex.

  “Finally,” I grumble, but she’s not paying me any attention.

  “Do you mind?” she asks. Her face is full of light and she’s unable to look away from the Ugu Mag.

  Before any of us can reply, she dives into the water. We are all gripped by suspense. Neither Telman, Chex or I can take our eyes off how her long, lean limbs gracefully carry her across the water. She is an expert swimmer. With her last stroke, she propels herself out of the water and onto the sprig, flinging her arms and hiking up her leg in step with the others.

  She’s giggling and engaging with the natives. Adore can find a good time anywhere and with anyone. She is the light. And it suddenly dawns on me that she is the reason I feel so damn different: better—and I’ll admit - happier.

  In one wide swoop of my eyes, I see that Ugu Mag are roasting vegetables on the fire pits built of stacked wood. There is corn, eggplant, potatoes; white and yellow squash. But I’m not hungry for food and won’t be until my body expends a certain amount of energy.

  I notice that the sun is past noon. It feels almost like we’re not trying to recover the Scepter of Gant. It’s funny how life progresses: one moment I’m held captive by a thirsty tree, the next I’m getting pummeled by vampires while trying to save my love from being drained by blood slugs, and the next I’m watching a sister - who swore she’d never leave Enu - hop around with the locals in Dag.

  “Telman?” I hear myself purr. I sound like a stranger; I’m affected by the music and the dancing.

  “What is it?” He’s perplexed by the alluring tone of my voice.

  “How about we go into the trees now?” I whisper, already gripped by desperation.

  His answer is this: my back slams into the rough bark of a tree just like in my fantasy and he’s thrusting himself inside of me. My nipple is in his mouth and he’s sucking on it so hard that it aches.

  “Bite me!” I scream. He sinks his teeth into my neck and then slams me against the grass, pounding me harder. This is how I’ve always liked it, but something is amiss. He’s so near yet so far away. My body is singing but my soul is parched.

  “Telman,” I whimper because I’m trying to keep the tears from rolling out of my eyes.

  His fangs retract and he’s motionless on top of me.

  “What’s wrong? Am I hurting you?” His lips kiss my forehead, gently. I’m craving more of that.

  “No,” I whisper.

  Now he’s even more perplexed.

  “Make love to me,” I ask him.

  Our gray eyes our catch in each other’s gaze.

  “Are you sure?” he finally asks.

  “Yes.” I nod, so very sure about it.

  His hardness is smoothing itself in and out of me. It feels so damn good that I’m whimpering under the weight of his body. It’s all inside of me, the emotions of being so close to him that I don’t want to exist outside of his skin. Our kissing is soft and hot. His mouth has always tasted like mint leaves and sweet citrus.

  When I run my tongue along his fang, he throws his head back and bellows out a growl that shakes the leaves. My arms wrap around his neck, determined to hold on tight. I can actually feel the orgasm sprouting as I pulsate around him.

  “Shit, Navi,” he grunts.

  “Shit, Telman,” I moan.

  I don’t even recognize the sounds I’m making, but the notes are sharp and grounded deep at the base of my throat because this is the longest and most intense orgasm I have ever experienced. When I finally let go of the tension in my body, I hear the tail end of Telman’s restrained growl.

  “Ahh!” he shouts when it’s over. He collapses on top of me like a ragdoll.

  We lay silent and completely still for a long time. I can still feel him filling me up inside and I’m still contracting around him. Our bodies don’t want to stop, but we are blown away by what we’ve just experienced. From the very first time Telman and I had sex, it has been rough. We were greedy for each other because, although he was involved with Gia Scoralini in those days, we couldn’t resist each other any longer. When it finally happened, it was explosive.

  “And why haven’t we done this before?” he ask humorously.

  We both laugh.

  “Because,” I finally say, “we’re impatient.”

  “You’re impatient,” he accuses, “not me.”

  “No way. You are too,” I tease.

  He lifts his face to look into mine. His expression is sincere. “Baby, I’ve been wanting to give it to you like this for a long time but…” he shrugs, “… I go the way you lead me.”

  “And I go the way you lead me,” I say.

  “How do you like where I’m leading you now,” he whispers.

  Telman is slipping in and out me, so slow, so deep that I think I’m going to burst from the insane sensations.

  “Ah…” is all I’m able to moan, but I’m sure he got the gist of it because he doesn’t stop.

  Round two…

  ***

  Adore

  In my mind, I am at home, dancing among friends, except instead of Enuians, they are human. How do they know our dance? Our forearms clap against each other and calves knock. The sound that it makes is melodic. My head is spinning with happiness. I can do this for eternity. And then I happen to catch a glance of Chex in the far distance, watching me.

  My feet halt and arms drop to my side as I stand still to observe him. Me, Ad’ru, never stops dancing until the song comes to an end, but like much of what I recently experienced, there’s always a first time.

  “You cannot stop!” a youthful man jubilantly says as his large hands take me by the waist and guide me into his hollow body. I flinch because I’m shocked. He spoke Agocum, the first language my father ever taught me.

  “He should take his hands off of you before I break them,” Chex suddenly says in my ear. He’s pressed against my backside and squeezing me possessively against him.

  But the male has already let go and is dancing the wey’lo’lol with another partner. I wriggle out of Chex’s grasp and drop into the water. I spin around to face him and motion for him to join me. After a moment of confused hesitation, he does.

  I spring toward him, finally feeling comfortable in my own skin. Our chests touch. “Follow me,” I say with my lips close to his. Before he can kiss me, I swim away and he trails behind me.

  I swim away from the clovers and keep going until the music fades and there are no humans in sight. Finally, Chex overtakes me and swims me to the nearest grassy bank where we both lay dripping wet. I roll out of his arms onto my back. He’s stretches out alongside me in the prone position, smoothing the hair out of my face.

  The sky has traces of orange streaked across it. It’s a subtle reminder that this is not Enu: time here is advancing. The sun will move on, the moon will glisten, and we will leave for Ol; thinking about it makes me shiver.

  “Are you cold?” Chex asks and then rubs my arm.

  It was turning chilly before his hand made contact with my skin, but now it’s warm.

  “No,” I say with a relaxed sigh.

  “Then what’s going on?”

  I flip onto my side and prop myself up to face him. “We’re going into Ol and I’m a little squeamish.”

  “Don’t be, Baby. I’ll be with you the whole time. All you have to do is walk forward and I won’t let anything touch you. I promise.”

  What a sincere glint in his eyes, and I believe him. Suddenly I remember something.

  “Your eyes,” I smooth a finger across his eyebrows. “They’re black, but that’s not their real col
or.”

  He frowns inquisitively. I know he’s wondering how I know this.

  “I could see what was not real about you after I filled you with the light.”

  Chex rolls over onto his back. After a long pause, he puts a finger into one of his eyes and then the other. When he’s done there are little black specks on the tip of two of his fingers. He rubs them together and they fall like granules into the grass.

  I inhale, shocked. He has emerald colored eyes like mine.

  “Another thing,” he says. “Earlier I pretended not to know that I was once called Vestop Mallotnis.”

  “I don’t understand,” I confess.

  “I have a lot of enemies,” he points at his eyes. “These are memorable and I don’t want to be remembered.”

  His green eyes are watching me. He looks very different, but still the same.

  “What are you thinking?” he asks, squinting as if he’s trying to interpret the expression on my face.

  “I’m thinking that you look slightly different but I can still recognize you.”

  He sniffs a chuckle.

  “You’re not upset that I didn’t tell you the truth?” He ventures to ask.

  “No,” I reply sincerely. “I understand.”

  He lifts his mouth to mine and his tongue tastes sweet. “I knew you would,” he says, smiling. Then he regards me shrewdly. “You’re keen, you know? If you’ve been swimming, dancing, and playing for… How old are you again?”

  “In Earth years?”

  He chuckles a little, amused at my newness I presume. “Yes,” he breathes.

  “8000 years.”

  He lets out a strange whistle. “You’re an old lady,” he jokes. “On Earth you’d be a mummy.”

  “Aren’t mummies dead?” I ask.

  “Aha!” His voice is pleasant to my ears. “She knows about mummies. Of course, they’re real right? I’m a vampire, so…”

  “Yes,” I say with assuredness. “Certain Earth cultures practiced preserving the body after death…”