The Sex Gates

  “Speaking of puzzles, how did it happen that we managed to come through a second time, and together at that? I've never heard of that happening before, and just figuring the chance likelihood, that would be odds of something like, uh, one in ten million."

  “One in a hundred million,” I corrected her. Rita never could keep her decimal points straight.

  “Whatever. It's still astronomical odds."

  I shrugged. “Better minds than ours have been trying to figure out the gates for years. Why wonder? Maybe one day we'll know."

  We sat and talked while the shadows outside deepened in the gathering dusk. I tried to describe the feeling I was experiencing of being aware of her presence at all times whether I was looking at her or not. Words wouldn't quite fit, and she had no more success than I did, though we both agreed that being back in our original bodies (albeit a few years younger than before) wasn't exactly the same as it had been.

  “Why don't we get in touch with some other Seconders and ask them about it?” Rita suggested.

  “Good idea. Maybe there's even a story in it. No Seconder has ever described anything like what we're feeling.” I spoke the words from habit; I knew there would be no story. Seconders didn't give interviews. They couldn't talk about it to normal humans. But what did they say to each other?

  As if on cue, my bodycom beeped. I answered it with the small screen, to avoid turning away from Rita. I was enjoying the sensation of being male again and having her warm body near me.

  Whitney Horst's angular face came into view. “I hear that you and your girlfriend passed through a gate together, both for the second time. How did you manage that?"

  “Your guess is as good as mine. It was the only chance we had to live, so we took it."

  “Do you remember anything about it?"

  “Nothing. One moment I was pushed into the gate, sick as a dog, and the next thing I knew I was outside and back in my old body."

  “Same here,” Rita agreed.

  He almost snarled. “I don't believe it. There's something awful goddamned weird about you Seconders. One of these days I'm going to find out what it is."

  “Believe what you want,” I told him. “I can't tell you anything else. And so far as us making it together, we were just calculating the odds of that happening."

  “So did I. Pretty improbable, to say the least."

  I shrugged. “Sorry. That's all we know."

  He looked almost as disgusted as he had the night the unknown parties had gotten away with Russell's goodies. “All right. I may want you to come in for questioning, though. In the meantime, if you remember anything, contact me.” He disconnected without saying good-bye.

  Rita turned to me. “I don't think I want him questioning me, even if he did help save our lives when the Gaters attacked us."

  I drew her into my arms, feeling the spreading softness of her breasts against me. “Don't worry. Seconders can't be effectively questioned, remember?"

  “Maybe we're unique. There's never been a couple pass through a gate at the same time, and so far as I know, no Seconder ever knew any of the others beforehand."

  I caught the hint of worry in her mind and kissed her. “If we're unique, I like it."

  She responded and again I could feel that surge of desire in my groin. I had almost forgotten what it felt like. I touched her breasts, and it was almost as if my own were being caressed. Certainly, I remembered the sensation from a short time ago, but it was more than that. Our lips parted and our eyes met in mutual desire.

  “Come on.” I took her hand and helped her up. We almost ran to the bedroom.

  As we came together on the bed, and our bare skin touched, it was like a surge of sensual electricity sparking between us. Her nipples pressed against my chest, two hard points of erotic flame that I could feel as if they were originating from inside my own body. Rita's lips parted against my own and an eager moan of pleasure escaped before our tongues wound together. Her nails dug into my back, urging, pulling me over her. She spread her legs and I slipped inside her soft, warm depths.

  * * * *

  Unity. Oneness. Twins. Merging. A melding of minds and bodies so intricately entwined that it made no difference who was in which, nor was it possible to tell the difference.

  Pleasure, a pleasure so intense that it was almost bitter. Every nerve end of both our bodies radiated waves of ecstatic, sensual anticipation.

  Sensations. Plunging engorged penis sinking and rising with the movement of hips. Friction exciting the throbbing clitoris with every movement.

  Awareness. Arms and legs wrapped around a body, holding it in a fiercely tight contact. Fingers digging into a back. Arms under a back, gripping shoulders. Softness of flattened breasts against muscular chest and erect nipples, two spreading, burning areas of intense sensual warmth. Groin and belly smacking together.

  Noise. A rising cry of voices uttering unintelligible screams of utterly unendurable pleasure in time with ever-quickening movements.

  A slope, a rising hill, a peak, a ride up and up to fiery heights where we paused, both of us hanging on the brink of ecstasy, then plunging down into depths where vast explosions of pleasure surrounded us, a part of us, breaking us into pieces, into bits, to molecules, to the very atoms of our bodies, loosening all consciousness and awareness of anything except the incredible orgasm of mind and body and soul.

  * * * *

  Lee, oh, Lee, my love. My heart, my soul.

  Rita, I love you. Oh, I love you.

  Still united, I could hear her thoughts as clearly as words, and I knew she could hear mine. In fact, there was no difference. The voices were our minds, speaking together as one.

  We slowly came back down to normal consciousness, exchanging endearments, sometimes with murmured words, sometimes with exchanged thoughts. It didn't matter. We were one.

  When at last we separated, our minds remained in contact, though our bodily sensations became our own again. Our eyes met in the semidarkness, adoring each other. We touched and felt of each other and moved our lips over the other's body, reveling in the sensation of feeling the reaction of the other as if it were our own.

  We coupled again, and again. Each time was better, more intense, as we began learning to use our minds as well as we had already known how to use our bodies.

  At last we lay apart.

  “No wonder the Seconders don't want to talk,” Rita said. I heard the words in my mind, but from habit we both spoke aloud. We continued our conversation, each originating thoughts which immediately became mutual.

  “Horst was right to be suspicious. Seconders are different. If this ever got out, we would be mobbed."

  “Telepathy. I always thought it was a fraud, something invented by charlatans and science fiction writers."

  A laugh. “It's real. I wonder if it's only us or all Seconders."

  “We'll have to find out. I wonder if we can read other people's thoughts."

  “Or maybe we're limited to Seconders’ thoughts.” I didn't know where that came from, but I was suddenly very glad of all the money I had paid to have the bedroom secure from bugs. I had assumed Horst would bug the house but damned if I wanted him in our bedrooms!

  * * * *

  Our minds might have merged, but our bodies still had their individual needs. I felt the urge and got up to go to the bathroom. As I closed the door, I felt Rita's thoughts become less clear, though I could still sense her presence in the bedroom, her thoughts and feelings now like a fog that slipped away from me and dissolved into mist.

  Rita also felt the slippage, and it impelled us to experiment. We found that as we practiced our bond grew stronger; we could tell where and what the other was doing from any place in the house, and even catch occasional thoughts.

  We didn't sleep at all that night. We pranced and giggled and played mind jokes and games with each other until the sun rose again. As we were eating breakfast, I began to sense a mental orientation, as if my mind was becoming something soli
d, unbreachable unless I held it open. Perhaps this was why Seconders were immune to grilling.

  There were a lot of questions I wanted to ask of Seconders. The problem was, I didn't know how to get into touch with any of them. They were reclusive, reluctant to come out into the open, and now I could see why. The human race always exhibited racial or cultural suspicion of anyone who was different from the norm. Going through the gate and getting a new body was bad enough, but telepathy confined to a few select would be a bombshell. If the vast majority of the population suspected that Seconders were mind readers, they would never let us live in peace. Worse, we might be hated, feared and persecuted for our difference. At least we would be if other Seconders were feeling the same effects we were.

  Rita helped explain why to me (what I didn't already know). Everyone has secrets, fantasies, thoughts that are mostly normal but never voiced or acted on. Real opinions of people are seldom given face to face. Salesmen, preachers, politicians and the like would never feel safe with telepaths around, nor would so-called normal people. There is too much secret baggage carried around in the human mind.

  “Can you imagine,” Rita said, “how men and women would act in sexual encounters if either thought the other could read their minds?"

  I sure could. “I remember when I was a boy, or actually a young man, meeting a girl and imagining all kinds of things about her, some of them not so nice."

  She grinned at me. “Don't think that's a male exclusive. Women do the same thing, though perhaps they don't visualize it quite so explicitly as men do."

  “Really?” I caught the assent in her mind from across the room. With practice, we were getting better able to sense attitudes even when separated.

  “Really. Or what about insurance salesmen or lawyers? Why, they would go bankrupt in a week!"

  I burst out laughing. Wouldn't that be a comeuppance for a lawyer, having someone read his or her every thought? Still...

  “We don't know yet that we can read anyone else's mind."

  “Why don't we take a walk, or ride into town, and find out?"

  “Good idea.” I was unbearably curious.

  My bodycomp buzzed. I told it I would take the call. The display materialized in front of me and I found myself staring at Messler Scribner, the young man who once was Messilinda. He grinned at me, his eyes alight with some secret joke.

  “Hello, Lee. Is Rita there?"

  “She's listening."

  “Fine. Welcome to the club."

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  * * *

  Chapter Twenty-five

  “The club? What kind of club?” I wondered what he was up to.

  “The Seconders, of course. We're pretty exclusive, as you well know."

  “You mean you think we belong to some kind of a fraternity? Sorry, we had nothing to do with becoming Seconders. Besides..."

  “Besides, your damned church almost got us killed,” Rita finished for me.

  He frowned, creating creases in his smooth forehead. “Haven't you had sex yet?"

  “It's none of your damned business!” Rita exploded.

  “Wait, Rita.” I could sense a purpose behind his questions and I thought I knew what it was, but I didn't want to say it aloud. Horst might very well have our circuits under surveillance. Instead, I asked, “Do you think something special happens when Seconders have sex?"

  He caught my circumlocution immediately. He smiled. “Relax, Lee. We can't be overheard. I have one of the best programmers in the world monitoring us. Yes, I'm talking about something special, like being able to read your partner's mind, among other things."

  “What other things?” So, all the Seconders could read minds, not just Rita and me.

  “We'll get to that. First, I wanted to touch base with you and warn you not to try getting in touch with other Seconders right away. We don't want to attract any more attention to ourselves than we already have by congregating together."

  My heart jumped. “We've already attracted attention. An NSC agent by the name of Whitney Horst called a while ago and said he may want to question us."

  Messler nodded. “I figured he would. So far as we know, you're the first pair of lovers ever to become Seconders, not to mention going through the gate at the same time. If he comes around, act innocent and go along with him, no matter what he does."

  “Easy for you to say. You weren't tortured. I've heard some Seconders have been, especially in other countries."

  “It doesn't really matter, although we can't help you if you're brought in. A Seconder is immune to questioning under any circumstances. You might wind up with some scars, or even be killed, but you'll never talk under duress, no matter how severe. We know."

  Beside me, Rita shivered and changed the subject. “Does it mean anything that we came through the gate together?"

  Messler spread his hands. “So far as I know, it was pure coincidence, though you both must have minds similar to other Seconders to have come through at all. By the way, I'm sorry your friends didn't make it."

  “Thanks. We keep hoping that they will turn up someday. Something inside us refuses to believe they are dead."

  “It may be more than a hope, but don't quote me, and please don't do a story speculating about the possibility."

  I stared at him, wishing I could grab hold of his image and shake the truth out of him. “How much do you Seconders know about the gates?"

  “Not much more than anyone else. We may have a hint of something, but I'd rather not go into it yet."

  “I want to know. When can I see you?” If there was any possibility at all of a reunion with Russell and Donna, I wanted the information right now.

  Messler grinned. “Looking for a re-match?"

  I think I blushed, remembering our liaison when he was female. His teasing remark managed to divert my attention, anyway. “Sorry, I don't swing that way."

  “Actually, neither do I. My inclinations were canalized too long ago to change now, though I did get an idea of how the other side operates while I was a woman.” He grinned some more.

  Rita's frown had returned. She leaned forward, as if coming closer to the screen might intimidate him. “I have a question. What on earth did you think you were doing when you started that Church of the Gates? They almost started a nuclear war, and two of our friends are dead as a result."

  Messler's eyes filled with regret. “You'll have to chalk that up to the folly of an old man. I was trying to help."

  “Help? I don't call what they did helping,” Rita snarled.

  “Well, it did help at first, and it wasn't that much of a folly, though if I had it to do over I would try a different approach. After I re-gained my youth, I was scared that the government would close off the gates, or make them exclusive, or slap taxes on them so high that only the rich could afford passage; something along those lines. You know how governments are. I gave it some thought and came up with the idea of starting a religion to support free access to them. It worked, too. Look at how some other countries are regulating access, or trying to. Unfortunately, the militant branch got out of hand when your friend discovered a way to get us out to the stars. I had no way to know such a breakthrough would take place. Russell was brilliant.” His shoulders slumped as he looked down at his hands and I could sense his frustration and pain even through the screen.

  Rita's frown softened and disappeared except for a couple of up and down thought lines between her eyebrows.

  “Did you Seconders have anything to do with rescuing us that time we were attacked? Are you the one who published Russell's notes?"

  Messler nodded. “I wasn't going to mention it for fear you would think I was trying to absolve myself, but yes, I did. Even after I resigned from the church, I kept some contacts. I'm sorry we weren't in time to save his friends. We did save you, though."

  “Yes, I suppose you did. And I know enough about history to realize the Gaters probably did play an important role in keeping the gates open. If they hadn'
t been, Lee and I would probably be dead from radiation poisoning."

  He waved a hand, disclaiming any credit. “Might have beens never prove anything. Who knows? If there hadn't been a church, San Antonio might never have been bombed."

  “True,” Rita admitted. “I guess you did what you thought best. Let's drop the subject. I want to know more about the Seconders."

  “So do I,” I said.

  Messler glanced at his thumb watch. “In good time. I'd better cut this off for now. Even with the programmer I've got working, if we stay connected long enough someone may hack in. Remember, be discrete about contacting any of us. Any hint that we're organized, even indirect evidence, and the government will surely crack down. President Jones is an ex-general, you know, and the military is still scared shitless of whatever is behind the gates."

  “All right,” I agreed. “Get back to us, though. I still have a lot of questions."

  “So do we all.” He disconnected.

  Rita giggled.

  “What?"

  “Scared shitless! I haven't heard that expression since I was a little girl, and then it was in colloquial language study.” She laughed some more.

  “Well, he is over a hundred years old, after all. Do you still want to go to town?"

  “Sure, why not?"

  * * * *

  An NSC car blocked the road before we got to town. Another pulled in behind it, and Whitney Horst got out, accompanied by two rough-looking men in semi-military tunics.

  “Hello, Horst.” I stared at him without enthusiasm.

  He pointed to the back seat of the big government sedan. “Get in."

  “Where are we going?” Rita asked, all innocent voice and big black eyes.

  “You'll see. Get in, I said."

  We got. I could sense that he intended to question us under drugs again, but there was a hint of something else in his mind, not yet come to fruition, or perhaps not decided yet. I realized then that though I couldn't read his direct thoughts, I could get an idea of his intentions and the general direction of his thoughts. My mind blurred at the thought, as if it were trying to conceal any overt indication of my new knowledge. When I stopped thinking of him, my mind cleared up again.