by Louise Wise
Without any conscious effort on either part, they lay down on the scorched ground. She was shaking, and the movement caused him to break contact. She lay beneath him breathless, and perturbed, but deeply aflame. It was a strange, erotic feeling. It felt wrong yet it was so right. Everything was perfect, yet so imperfect.
“You are frightened,” he said softly, without question.
“It isn’t fear, Fly.”
He didn’t move, and then a rare smile broke over his face. He looked so relieved that her heart nearly broke. She raised a hand and stroked the red scars over his face.
“Make love to me, Fly, take me to heaven.”
“You do not want to stay here?” he asked, and when she broke into laughter, he frowned. “I do not understand.”
She sobered. “Then let me take you.”
She held out her hands to him, and he lowered himself into her embrace where she was the teacher and he the pupil. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t human, anymore. His scarred face, strange eyes, clawed hands and the knowledge that he was as venomous as a viper no longer seemed preternatural.
They removed one each other’s clothes with extreme delicacy; touching and discovering each other with light, incredulous caresses.
Her body prickled against the chill of the night, but his hands wandered over her and sent warmth deep into her skin. His head lowered and his teeth graced her neck, then the hollow of her shoulder. Jenny flung back her head; her eyes tightly closed in ecstasy. His hands moved all over her body, exploring every curve, every tiny imperfection from the tips of her toes to her face.
She arched her back, at the same time drawing his head down with her arms. Her hands threaded his long black hair. Their legs became entangled, and when his thigh pressed between her legs, her body reacted almost violently.
If there was any lingering doubts in Jenny’s mind they vanished the moment his hot mouth closed over her breast; all disturbing thoughts were trampled and squashed by the overwhelming desire and pleasure that erupted from her inner core.
“Oh, God, but I want you,” she barely breathed along with the words she didn’t know she uttered.
His hand was touching her other breast, and it swelled beneath his fingers. He shifted lower still, leaving her breasts to explore her navel. His tongue moved in circular movements, his mouth hot and moist on her stomach.
His eyes were on her face, watching her. Their gaze touched and held, and then he lowered himself on top of her, and entered her with a surge of need.
An animal somewhere screeched, and a bird overhead cackled; their voices being a tiny part of their surroundings. Jenny cried out, and Fly’s low grunts filled the night, but only to mingle with planet’s noise of which they had become part.
*
Jenny woke slowly. Her body ached in places that were new to her, but she was bathed in an invisible glow that was warm and intense.
She stretched leisurely in the cabin bed that they had shared last night after making love once, twice, three times. She wasn’t counting. Both had been amazed at the potent, intoxicating feelings they aroused in one another. She touched her lips, remembered and felt the texture of his mouth, and shivered in delight.
The other side of the bed was empty but still warm, and she rolled over to sleep the dawn in the imprint of his warmth.
Days came and went, and Fly was a big part of her life now. He was as normal to her as her reflection in the mirror.
Her new life wasn’t one she had been prepared for; but she had grown into it and flourished. Fly took her around the island, showing her wonderful places made by nature alone. Thick leaves grew in place of blossom on the trees, creating the illusion that the trees were much bigger than they actually were. And the forest, at ground level, was an even more dark and forbidding place than before.
He still spent a lot of his time away from her but only, she now knew, because he was building them both a shelter. He told her the morning after they first consummated their relationship.
She implored him to show her the new home, but he flatly refused.
“Only when is it compete,” he said. “You will have to be patient.”
“But I can help,” she had pleaded pointlessly.
He had grinned at her insistence. “You will only distract me.
Was this hell?
Bodie’s mouth formed a single word - water. He lay in a tangled heap of metal, melted plastic and bone. His head was scorched; hair gone, yellow pus and congealed blood formed ugly crusts on his head. His lips were dry, his tongue swollen.
Matt watched as he made another effort to try and drag his broken body from the metal pole that anchored him to the shattered floor of Taurus, but he collapsed, exhausted and in pain.
Matt shuffled towards the broken hatch door clutching a plastic mug. Outside there was nothing but freezing water, and it lashed violently at his skin like a thousand knives. He touched his face expecting his hand to come away bloody, but it didn’t. The water was fierce with churning rapids, but Matt knew it must be shallow because the speed of it would have carried Taurus away long ago.
He held onto the edge of the hatch and peered around as far as his strength allowed. Pain from his injured knee shot up his leg and he almost lost his grip to fall headlong into the rushing water. He dipped the mug into the icy water, feeling the current pull on his hand.
He shuffled back, dragging his right leg. He sat, with effort, next to Bodie and dripped the collected water into his mouth.
Bodie didn’t register the fallen drops and lay with his eyes closed. The water rolled passed his mouth and dripped down his neck.
Matt leaned against the torn wall.
Yes, this was definitely hell.
SIXTEEN
Waves crashed against each other, throwing up sheet after sheet of white water with a thunderous roar. In the distance, a huge glacier captured the rays of the twin suns and reflected back a brilliance of color.
She had seen the ocean before and all its splendor, and as always its sheer power and scale took her breath.
Apart from the endless water and themselves, there wasn’t anything moving along the miles of empty beach; only birds. Thousands of tiny birds in various colors were diving for fish, bobbing about in the waves, or perched in flocks on the rock face.
Fly held out his hand to her as they climbed down the loose rocks towards the vast expanse of water.
The drop to the beach was too sheer for the buggy and so side by side, they strolled along the sand as the sea cast frozen waves onto the pebbly, ice-encrusted beach. They walked a long way in silence, content with each other and the sound of the screeching minuscule birds.
“So,” said Jenny at last. “Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”
“Somewhere where you have been asking to go for a long time.”
She looked baffled for a moment, and then understanding illuminated her face. “The shelter? You’re going to show me your shelter?”
“Our shelter,” he corrected. “Further up there is a narrow path that leads away from the ocean. It opens into a large expanse of ground alongside a river. It has good potential for grazing animals.”
She could hardly contain herself. But soon they were walking up a sandy path, which was nothing more than a space between rock that overhung the beach. It was littered with spiny bush and dense red-brown shrubbery that Jenny hadn’t seen before. The path steadily sloped upward and became narrower until they were forced to walk single file.
Finally, she could see the silver sparkle of a river in the distance as the pathway ended, and before her eyes the dusty plains stretched in a mixture of many colors. She sniffed and the fragrant scent of her favorite flower teased her nostrils. Looking around she located the smell to the brightly colored blooms nestling between tall trees.
“It’s idyllic,” she said softly.
“Come,” he said, and continued forward.
The walk was steadily downward now, sloping into a valley. As
they walked, the stony ground gave way to the familiar soft spongy grass, which covered their path in a dark green carpet. Yellow flowers, eager to reach the sunlight, had pushed up through the tightly curled grass and gently swayed in the breeze.
There she stopped, her mouth falling open.
An impressive single-story house stood beside the river. It was made of wood and stone, with a green thatched roof. It had a large door, and several windows that looked like real glass.
Not far away were grazing animals, enclosed simply by a wide trench. Many had young that frolicked playfully. She approached the house as if in a daze. It wasn’t a shelter, but a dream cottage. Beside it was a barn, but it was built just as strongly as the house.
“My God!” Her hands had flown to her mouth. “Am I seeing things? It even has a garden on the roof!” She stared at the roof. Indeed, the once thought thatched roof was turf. “That’d be insulation, right?” she asked, turning to look up at him.
Fly urged her forward without answering. She stopped at the door, her hand outstretched to touch the frame, as if afraid it would fragment at her feet.
“Do you not like it?”
Jenny felt her throat constrict. “Oh, Fly,” she said. Her eyes swam with tears. “I - it’s wonderful!”
Fly pushed open the door and stood aside to allow her to enter. The entrance led into a corridor with naked wooden doors shuttered against other rooms. She opened the first door, which revealed a bedroom - a mattress lay on the floor. Behind another door was a similar bed, this time mounted on a wooden base, and a large handmade wooden cupboard. The third opened into a wide room with double glass doors at the opposite end. She crossed to these and peered out over the river. The glass, when she touched it, was warm. Plastic.
“Where… how…?”
“You often commented on the “junk” I was taking from the spaceship. Well, this is where it went.”
She didn’t answer, unable to hear anything but her own buzz of amazement.
She recognized the lost rear seat from the buggy pushed against a wall and began to approach it, but stopped before a large round table neatly made, with two equally well constructed wooden chairs. On the other wall was a hearth.
She turned to look at him, her face still registering only shock. He was leaning against the doorframe, grinning broadly and looking thoroughly pleased with himself. She turned a full circle, trying to take everything in. She felt completely lost for words.
“You did all this in a couple of months?” she asked finally.
“The smaller building was the original shelter - long before you arrived.”
“The barn?”
“The barn,” he repeated the new word. “You told me all about your home on earth and, although I could not make a complete replica, I think I have made something similar.”
She continued to gape. “You must’ve been working on this long before we were lovers?”
“I was.”
“Oh, Fly.” She looked at him, tremulous, but then turned away, brushing her eyes. “And I believed such awful things of you back then. “
“But you have all your life to make it up to me,” he said with a teasing smile before striding out into the corridor. Jenny followed at a slower pace, her regard for him higher than high. He stopped at another door, pushed it open, and then stood back.
“A kitchen!” she shouted. “Oh, my God! This is fantastic! Fly…” she turned a full circle; taking in the iron stove, a washbasin, and beautifully made wooden kitchen surfaces surrounding the walls. There was a tall cupboard in one corner, which she opened and found the shelves crammed full with the cartons of dried food from the spaceship.
“Let me show you the bathroom -”
“Bathroom?” She felt dizzy.
“Is that not the correct word?” he asked. “You told me once you loved to relax with, er, wine? In a bath full of bobbles?”
“Bubbles,” she corrected. She laughed. “Oh, show me!”
Fly pointed to the final door, and Jenny opened it with caution as if expecting hordes of people to leap out shouting: “Surprise!”
The bath was sunken and made from a hard, colored stone. Piping, and an attached handle, emerged from above, which Fly explained, if pumped would shoot out water. There was a sink beneath a screened window in the same stone as the bath. Everything was positioned exactly how she had described to him.
Reaching over the sink, Jenny pushed open the screen. Her mouth gaped once more. Outside was tall, thick piping attached to an equally tall, but hardy, tree. The tree was an anchor to scaffolding, which stretched into the sky. At the highest point, there was a sunken shaped device, with smaller objects protruding like ears. Beneath it on the ground was an ugly cylinder-shaped contraption.
“A generator?” she asked in disbelief. She turned to him. “You did all this alone?” she asked stupidly.
“It is not perfect,” he said. “In the darker seasons, and when we will probably need the generator more, it will not be as effective. I’ll have to think of something else to generate our heat. The river freezes during the winter so we couldn’t use that, and with little wind -”
But Jenny cut him off, and standing on tiptoe, she kissed him. “You’re amazing, d’you know that?” Smiling, she turned back to the sink and pumped the small handle. After a moment, water rushed noisily out, accompanied by steam. She turned to look at him, grinning. “Hot water. Hot water,” she said, pumping.
Fly left her to wander. She still felt in a state of shock, but was highly honored that Fly had built this for her.
She inspected the barn lastly, and discovered more stored “junk” from the spaceship. She walked around the rear of the house and stood looking up at the tree and its device.
Fly was standing on the riverbank, watching as the water jetted downstream in a noisy frenzy. Its turbulent current spat jets of steam, which were vicious compared to the golden lake where they frequently bathed. She walked towards him, her head twisting backwards to keep the house in sight, as if frightened it would disappear.
When she neared, he pointed to a narrowed part of the river that foamed into white rapids.
“You can see where I have started to build a bridge,” he had to raise his voice over the noise.
“You swam out there to construct that thing? You could’ve been swept away,” she shouted back, and glared at him, angry that he could risk his life. “Why the most dangerous part of the river, anyway?”
Fly didn’t answer, he often didn’t and it wasn’t until recently that Jenny realized he wasn’t being rude, but merely hadn’t understood her.
“I will make the bridge strong enough to hold the buggy.”
She looked on anxiously as the river rushed by on its noisy and furious journey.
“Dangerous,” he said, finally understanding, “but narrow, which means less material.”
He looped his hands around her waist, and pulled her purposely against his body. Without warning, he swiftly kicked her legs from beneath her so she lost her balance. He moved down with her, and cushioned her fall.
They landed breathless and laughing among the yellow flowers and were bathed in the light pollen that fell from the tall blooms, and it was there where they made love.
Afterwards, both naked, Jenny lay with her hand resting on his massive chest. She gave a sigh of contentment and dreamily stared up at the sky.
“You know, I never thought I’d get used to seeing two suns, a large moon, and then seven more at night - but I have. It’ll seem strange with anything less now.”
Fly, his hand resting beneath the swell of her breast, opened his eyes and followed her gaze.
“Itor has two stars,” he said. “But I hope they have gone nova while I am here.”
“Because they didn’t come for you?”
Fly stayed silent, his expression was one of indecision. Jenny didn’t notice, she was more interested in his thumb doing magic things to her body. His hand moved over the curve of her abdomen to
rest in the soft hair of her femininity. His fingers moved, creating a whole load of sensations that no man before had disinterred.
Her knees drew up and opened like a flower to sunlight for his touch. She held her breath, silently begging for more while knowing that sound would only break the spell she was under.
She moved her hands and traced a pattern on his upper thigh. His manhood was already engorged, nesting in tight black hair.
“Jenny…” he lowered his head and groaned into her hair. “There are things you should know about me.” he began to say, but his words were whipped away in a gust of desire.
He rolled to lay upon her, careful not to burden her with his weight. Lowering himself, he entered her with a soft grunt of satisfaction.
Jenny clung to his back, her hands splayed over the taut muscles that played across his shoulders. She could feel the power moving beneath her hands, and marveled at the strength that lay captive under her fingertips.
Jenny’s life was certainly different from the previous. It was hard, but definitely rewarding. The food was simple but plentiful, thanks to Fly’s skillful hunting, and their small crop of vegetables. And Jenny tasted new exotic fruits and vegetables that had ripened for the summer.
Their cattle was gradually expanding in number, and Jenny began cultivating further land to grow the bladed grass clumps that were the main food for the large oxen-type animal that roamed the horizon.
They planned to bring some over once the bridge was finished, and she was preparing for that eventuality. The unfortunate animals had thick skins, which would provide them with excellent material for clothing and bedding; their horns could be shaped or sharpened and used as weapons or cooking implements. Their meat was good, and they provided excess milk.
Flexing her shoulders from the back-breaking work, she carried the spade over to the wooden cart, which was a simple contraption with two wheels and a long handle, and deposited the smelly would-be fertilizer inside it. She trudged the field, pulling the cart looking for dung, as the animals scattered from her in all directions.