by Nobilis Reed
“That wouldn’t be so bad, if they did.”
“See? Nothing to worry about.” She took more smoke and handed it back.
“So, after you go, I need to find someone else to pass this on to?”
“Yeah, but you have plenty of time, right? You only just arrived.”
I breathed in some more smoke. I felt something strange happening behind my eyes. I wasn’t exactly dizzy, but I definitely felt more comfortable. “Yeah, a few days ago.”
“Don’t rush it. The more people know about this place, the more likely it is to get discovered.”
I looked over at the hatch. “How do I get in when there isn’t someone to see me on the monitors and open the hatch?”
“Ah,” she said, setting the pipe on the table. “I need to show you the secrets of the hideout. First, the Command Center.” I followed her to the tablet and its holographic display. “This is hardwired into the robot’s sensor array. The rest of the thing is junk, but the lenses still work, so you can keep an eye on what’s going on outside. You don’t need to do anything with it, just let it run.”
“Who set all this up?”
“I don’t know. It was all here when the guy before me showed it to me.” She pointed to a cable that ran along the wall to a hole cut in the corner. “This cable is wired into the leg you climbed up. If you grab its middle toe and lift, it sends a signal up here.” She pointed to another cable running to the hatch where we had entered. “The tablet will get the signal and open the hatch. If it doesn’t work, that means someone has gotten in here and messed with the tablet.”
“Clever.”
“Right. Well, like I said, I didn’t set it up.” She pointed to a section of the holographic display of the surrounding area. “You see those plants there? The ones in between the road and the vines?”
“Yeah, I stepped over them coming here.”
“Grab one whenever you come in. That way there’s always some ready when you want it.” She crossed the room, towards the drying racks. “Throw it up on the rack on this side, then turn each other plant over and move them to the right. When they get to the far end of the rack, they’re usually dry enough to use.”
“What are they? The plants, I mean.”
“Don’t know the name for them. Never really cared to look them up. Didn’t want to throw any suspicion.”
“What do you mean?”
“The Scouts keep track of what you look at on your tablet. If you were to start doing research on these plants, they’d know about it, and they might wonder how you knew to look them up.”
“But they’re growing right there, out where anyone can see them. I could just say I thought they looked interesting and wanted to look them up.”
“Have you looked up anything else since you’ve been here? Anything they didn’t specifically tell you to look up?”
“Well, no.”
“That’d be enough. They’ll get suspicious of anything like that.”
“How careful do I need to be?”
“Well, no one has ever gotten in trouble just coming out here. Someone stopped me once, but I just said I was going out for a walk, and that was fine. You get a reputation for midnight walks on the oxygen deck, and they don’t bother you. But they definitely wouldn’t like the smoke, so don’t draw any attention to that. Speaking of which, it’s a good idea to take a shower when you get in. They might smell the smoke on your clothes.”
“Good point, I’ll remember that.” I squinted up at the light in the ceiling. “So, that’s it?”
“What do you mean?”
“No big conspiracy or anything?”
“Just a conspiracy to get out from under them once in a while. Do something against the rules, and get away with it.”
“Sounds like my kind of conspiracy. Is there anyone else in on it beside us?”
“There’s a couple of newgens who come in from the residential section once in a while, but you and I are the only cadets. Helps keep it secret if only a few people know about it.”
I wondered what kind of newgens they would be. I wondered if they’d give me the same kind of uncomfortable feeling I’d had at the river.
“Thanks for picking me,” I said.
“Oh, you were an easy one. You don’t belong here any more than I do.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“I’ll tell you about it sometime, but I don’t want to depress you. There’s time for another round of smoke before we go.” She scooped up the pipe and went back to the plants to fill it.
I took my seat at the table again. From the back, there was something odd about the way Trace stood there. I tried to put my finger on exactly what it was, but my thoughts wouldn’t line up. She looked uncomfortable somehow, as if her shoes didn’t fit right.
She walked back to the table and plopped down again, leaning back with one foot on the table. Through the thin material of her cadet uniform I could clearly see the outline of her pussy.
“Uh-unh,” she said, waggling the pipe at me. “None of that, Challers. I didn’t bring you up here to let you have a go at me; you should be getting enough of that back at the academy.”
“What?”
“I see where you’re looking.” She pointed the stem of the pipe at my crotch. “Little Challers, there, knows what you’re looking at, too.”
“Sorry,” I said, adjusting my gaze back to her face. “I guess I just never met a woman who acts like you.”
She handed the pipe back to me and I took another draw on it, this time with less coughing. I tried to keep my eyes on her face.
Trace laughed.
“What?”
“You’re funny!”
I scowled and looked away. “I don’t see what’s so hilarious.”
She laughed harder. “Look. Go ahead. I was just teasing! My finely sculpted body is fascinating to you. Of course you’re going to look.”
“It doesn’t bother you?”
“I understand completely. In fact . . .”
She stood up from her chair and pulled the uniform shirt up over her head. The retreating fabric made her breasts bounce hypnotically.
I could only sit and watch, mouth agape.
“You can see better this way, eh?”
I silently thanked Shirley for advising me many times to arrange my shorts so that I didn’t have to adjust them if I got an erection. “You’re teasing me.”
“Well, I have to admit that I’m enjoying watching you blush, but how could I be teasing you if I’m letting you look at me like this?” She tried a crude pirouette, winding up facing away from me. “Oh, forgive me. I’m only going halfway, aren’t I?” She bent and pulled down her shorts, giving me a clear view of her pussy lips between her legs.
I put my hands over my face. My cock was becoming painfully hard, and if I didn’t do something about it, I would suffer later. I could feel it pulsing against the thin fabric.
“Oh, Challers, I’m sorry.”
I opened my eyes.
Trace stood with her arms across her chest and a contrite look on her face. “I didn’t mean to do this to you.”
I waved my hand. “It’s all right, I’ll . . .”
“No, it’s not all right. I know how . . . I know you’re going to be in pain. I’m a cadet, right? I’ve studied these things. It’s okay if you need to relieve yourself.”
My embarrassment took another leap. This whole scene was just too bizarre for words. Unfortunately, it had no effect on my cock. I slid my hand down under my waistband, covering my cock and giving it a little squeeze.
“That’s it,” she said. “Go ahead.”
“Now whose eyes are wandering?” I asked.
“I’m sorry,” she said, glancing down at the floor. “I like watching you. I know it’s very strange, but could you do this for me?”
I let out a deep breath. “All right. But don’t do this to me again, okay?”
“I promise.”
I pulled my shorts down under my cock and stroke
d myself. There was something about Trace that seemed almost wrong, but I couldn’t deny the feelings that looking at her huge breasts aroused in me. They didn’t sag or droop; they were as firm and inviting as Valka’s, just bigger.
It seemed like it only took a few seconds of stroking to bring myself to orgasm. It wasn’t the most intense I had ever had, probably from the confused swirl of emotions growling in my gut, but it was enough to relieve the pressure.
Trace sighed. “I’m sorry I did that to you, Challers. I promise it won’t happen again.” She looked down at the stripes of cum splattered on the floor between us. “I’ll clean up.” There was a note of sadness in her voice.
“I can help.” I looked around the hideout for a rag.
“No, no, I got it.” She swallowed and there was something like a crack in her voice. “Just go.”
“But . . .”
“Get out!” Her eyes were brimming with tears and I stepped back, confused and afraid.
“Okay, okay. I’m going.”
What had I said? Had I done something wrong?
As I walked back to the academy, I went over the events of the evening in my head again and again, but nothing made any sense. Why had she reacted so badly? I had done everything she wanted. Nothing in my studies had prepared me for this kind of thing. Worse, I couldn’t ask Shirley for help. I was on my own.
Chapter Twelve
When I returned from the hideout, I slipped back into the academy, went to my room, and into my bed. As far as I could tell, Shirley hadn’t moved. When we woke up, I was a little sleepy, but Shirley said nothing. I had gotten away with it.
The next day was the best since I had arrived. I felt liberated. I forgot all the indignities I had encountered and enjoyed myself. My secret brought a smile to my face whenever I thought of it. Even Math class went by without a twinge.
The food had always been good, but somehow it tasted better. The chocolate was smoother, the butter richer, the fruit sweeter. Shirley noted my appetite and warned that if I started gaining weight, she was going to put me on a diet. I just laughed.
Go ahead, I thought. Put me on teabulbs and vedgepacks. I don’t care.
I returned to the hideout that night and did my duty in replenishing the supply of the unnamed plant. Trace wasn’t there, but that was fine. I took some smoke, poked a bit at the camera tablet, and generally enjoyed my independence.
It actually felt easier to learn under those circumstances. The pressure was off. I had always liked learning, and without the toxic weight of jealousy and loss hanging over me, I could focus on doing just that.
The research project on the history of the Ovors was going particularly well. I had mapped out the region of the galaxy where they had settled after the Great Scattering, along with the founding dates of their various stations, and made notes on the interaction between their needs and the systems they colonized. They grew very quickly, about twice as fast as the puregens, because they could easily bear two or three children with each pregnancy, sometimes more—if they wanted to.
Ovor women could consciously hold back their eggs, keeping them suspended until they were needed. It struck me that if I had grown up on an Ovor station, I probably wouldn’t be in this mess. Ovor stations would have no reason to go overpop.
Of course, if I had been born on an Ovor station, I’d also probably be female. Ovors gave birth to three or four females for every male. What would it have been like to grow up on one of those stations? The history sources I found were fairly vague on the day-to-day details.
A few nights later, I spotted Trace on the monitors shortly after I had arrived at the hideout. I helped her in the hatch with a big smile on my face.
“Welcome back,” I said. I was proud of myself, having taken what I thought was good care of the place while she was gone.
As soon as the light from the overhead struck her face, though, I stopped cold. “What’s wrong?”
She turned her scowl from me to the holograms floating above the monitor tablet. “What. Is. That?” She jabbed a finger at a spot near the path. “Do you see that?”
I looked close. There was a dark smudge along one side of the road.
“I don’t . . .”
“It’s an empty spot in the plants,” she spat. “A great big hole where you’ve been pulling out the first plant that came to hand.”
“But . . .”
“You’re going to have to be more careful. You don’t get your plant from the same place along the border every time you come by.” She looked over at the drying rack, which was piled with the results of my harvesting. “Let me guess, you’ve been in every dark shift since I showed you the place?”
“Well . . .”
“Are you insane? You can’t do that! You’ll ruin everything!”
“What’s all the yelling?” A calmer voice floated into the chamber, a sweet soprano.
I turned towards the entrance. A woman’s face, framed by dark wavy hair, poked into the hatchway.
Trace spun and stalked over to the drying racks. “Vack-head, here, has been here the last five nights straight, near as I can tell, and left a bare patch out by the road. It’s a wonder this place hasn’t been found already.”
“Hello, vack-head,” she said, stepping fully into the hideout. She smiled broadly, deflating the insult.
I wish I could say I reacted with grace and decorum, but when I saw her four impressively rounded breasts, concealed only by a handful of brightly colored scarves, I was speechless.
Trace surveyed the drying racks with a growl. “And you burned up all the best leaves! Vack-head.” She poked around in the stems and seeds for whatever leftovers she could locate.
The new woman bowed to me, smiling. “I am Suna. And you?”
“Challers,” I croaked, finding my voice again. “You’re a . . .”
“Newgen,” said Trace. “I told you that a couple of newgens might come around.”
She flopped into a chair, causing her breasts to roll and bounce on her chest. No woman I had known moved that way. She seemed almost careless with them.
“Challers, you can’t come here every night. You’ll burn up the plants before they can recover, and you’ll get us discovered and spoil it for everyone.” She took a huge lungful of smoke from the pipe and offered it to Suna.
Suna gave her a smile and waved it off. “No, I have eggs now; it would not be good for them.” She patted her belly. “And do I not recall a certain cadet I know going a bit too far with the smoke her first few nights in here?”
Trace rolled her eyes and offered the pipe to me. “Right, very well. It doesn’t change the fact that he can’t keep acting this way.”
I accepted the pipe. “You must be an Ovor newgen, then,” I said, and took some smoke.
She smiled, nodding. “Yes, that is right. Ovor. You have not seen one before?”
“Just a few holos in my lessons. I’m writing an essay about your people. You’ve put together a very interesting culture.”
“Well, not exactly,” she said, quirking the corner of her mouth in a half-smile. “I was not born on an Ovor station. I became an Ovor here, at headquarters.”
“What?”
Trace pulled the pipe out of my hand and took another big lungful of smoke. “The gentank isn’t just for giving sweet kids gigantic mammaries, you know. They have all the old templates. They can turn anyone into an Ovor. Even you.”
Out of politeness to Suna, I tried not to look too uncomfortable with the suggestion. “Why?”
She shrugged. “I thought I’d try it out. See whether it suits me.”
“So you can just ask to be put into the gentank, and have them make you into whatever body you like?”
“Or whatever body your keeper likes,” grumbled Trace.
“Oh, you.” Suna shook her head. “I think your breasts look quite good on you.”
Trace rolled her eyes.
“Don’t you think?” asked Suna, looking at me.
I
stammered. “They’re, um, quite impressive. Yes.”
Trace shoved the pipe back into my hand. “Here. Have some more smoke.”
I took it and drew the smoke into my lungs. In the back of my head, I could feel the little hum start to build. It was taking effect.
“Honestly?” I said. “I like them smaller.”
I thought of Valka, her breasts quivering as she stroked herself that first time in Shirley’s ship, and I felt the need to clear my throat. I coughed smokily.
Trace caught my eye and her scowl softened. “What’s her name?”
“Valka,” I said. “We were together for a year before coming here. Two days after we arrived . . .” I snapped my fingers. “Pfft.”
“I’m sorry,” said Suna, leaning out to squeeze my hand.
“Happens to a lot of folks,” said Trace.
I squeezed Suna’s hand and she dropped her gentle grasp. “Did you break up after coming here?”
Trace shook her head. “Nah, we weren’t really a couple. I figured out what it took to get into the Scouts on my own and just went and found someone to get picked up with. No big breakup, no big drama.”
“Where is he now?”
Trace shook her head and waved away the question. “No, no, you don’t get that answer yet. I barely know you.” She handed me the pipe. “The smoke isn’t doing me any good. I’ll see you next time.” At the hatch, she turned back to us. “My last night on the station is four nights from now. Will you . . .?”
For just a moment, the look on her face flashed vulnerability.
“Of course we will,” said Suna. “I’ll make sure Zun knows to come, too.”
It didn’t seem like it would be a happy occasion.
When the hatch closed, Suna sighed and shook her head. “Trace is a good person, but she can be a bit closed off. She needs to open up more.”
I took some more smoke. “I think we all could do with being more open. Too many secrets. Too many things left unsaid.”
I stared at the curl of vapor drifting up from the spoon and wondered whether there had been anything I could have said to keep Valka from throwing me away.
“Truth,” said Suna. “So, tell me honestly, then, you do not like large breasts?”