She burst into tears and went to the back.
Mary grabbed my arm. “She just realized people actually saw her the way she wanted to be seen. Treat her gently, she is deeply in love, and her ice shield has been shattered. She is scared because she can’t protect her heart anymore.”
“Our own, onboard, love doctor,” I said, laughing, and kissed her on the cheek.
I went in to our sack, lay down, and she was just sitting there crying. I pulled her down on top and kissed her gently, and hugged her.
She sniffed back some tears and said, “We can’t do anything with our clothes on, silly.”
I held her and said, “It isn’t about sex you know. Love is feeling and caring. Just lay still and relax, enjoy being close. Feel that I love you, know that I love you.” I just kept rubbing my hands up and down her back slowly. I had music in the background, brought the net down and we lay there and just enjoyed each other. I slept soundly. I woke up; she was asleep on top, her head resting on my chest. Well in zero gee that sounds more romantic than it is. We were barely even touching but it still felt good to me.
She moved her head and looked at me, smiled, and kissed me. She whispered, “I am sorry, it is not the same.”
She slapped the net button, floated out, and got undressed. I did the same. We got back in and she slapped the button again. It closed almost against us. She bumped it a few more times until she was actually squishing lightly against my chest. She kissed me, “Much better,” turned her head, and was soon asleep. She had a point, she did feel good. I slept well too.
We were about two hours to change; I woke up with her gently kissing me. “Touchy feely time is over.” She loosened the net a bit and I hugged her. We rocked to love and happiness. The time flew by.
“Orbit entry in ten hours,” the comp said.
Bill had been scanning the frequencies. “Found some TV and radio channels.” He called us all up front. “Listen to this, on an old Earth NASA Gig frequency.”
“Camelot to unidentified craft, be recognized for orbit information.”
“It’s on all the old channels and we are being scanned and hailed in the light bands too,” he said.
Mary had been scanning through the radio frequencies and added, “Listen to this, it’s on their public radio.”
“It is confirmed, an unknown craft is approaching from space. This is only the second spotted since King Jake came to us. We will keep you posted as we hear anything new.”
“You have got to see this TV!” Bill said, as he brought it up on screen.
A truly beautiful light blue skinned girl with long jet-black hair was almost naked. She wore green colored panties seen through a very sheer dress that might be all of six inches from waist to hemline. It had two small strips of cloth that ran over her breasts and crisscrossed her back. It hid nothing as she went and sat behind a desk. “This was just confirmed by our news crew, a ship is definitely coming from space. It is not any of our designs. More news as it becomes available.”
Bill whistled at her and was slapped by Mary.
“Can we send on their freq?” I asked.
“Sure can, if you want,” Bill said.
“I don’t want to be blown to pieces after all this,” I said. “Hum, old Earth you said?”
Bill nodded.
“Okay, you’re live,” he said.
“Camelot, this is NASA GC 821, Explorer ship #7 out from New Earth. We crashed into an asteroid belt near here, ship badly damaged. John T. Whiteherst, XO, commanding. Please identify, over.” I waited.
“NASA GC 821, this is Camelot traffic control. Your registry has no listing; we acknowledge we have been out of touch awhile. Do you have a computer link? Laser or high frequency I can confirm status with? Over.”
Bill said to me, “Nothing that works. I can jam a cam link of sorts into one of their freqs if it’s any help.”
“Negative, I say again negative. Most external equipment destroyed. Com officer can send a video camera link if that is of any help. Whom am I speaking with, please?”
“Cam link not required, just wanted to update our files. It can wait. I apologize, I am Traffic Controller Rodel. I also fill several other slots. I am First Knight of King Jake’s Round Table. I am also Camelot’s Department of State, Department of National Security, Department of Defense, and a few dozen other ego boosting titles.”
“Surly you jest, Sir!” Bill said.
“By royal decree I am indeed a Sir, even if I am but an old rundown computer,” he said. He sounded unlike any comp I ever heard. “We sent Jake’s old ship back to Earth under #6’s control—did it by any chance make it?” he asked.
“Um, a stripped out thing with a computer missing and an old book inside?” I asked.
“Yes, so it did make it.”
“Yes, Camelot, it made it.” I was just kinda gawking at the com.
“What is your current model or type of onboard system computer? If it isn’t a secret?” it asked.
I looked at Bill and Mary. Bill Shrugged.
Sylvia said, “Unless we crash in a volcano or something, they are gonna find it all out anyway. We cannot go anywhere else.”
“It is a bio model #1532. There are four on board with two model #1501s as backup,” I told him.
“Still mass redundancy even after we told them. Don’t they trust anyone?” he said. “Never mind, I was a Model 77C or, yes, and our newest was a Model 81. All the 81s fried during a double tap. Anyway, that was a long time ago.”
I started to say something, but Bill held up his hand. “Rodel, what was your sequence number and what is ‘Rodel’?”
“A test? Cool! I was #5 of six. Rodel was Jake’s nickname for the ship, originally Ro-Del for Robot Delinquent, but it was changed to Rodel when we became Egyptians. It is also a place in Scotland. Do I pass?” he snickered.
Bill said, “You hear that? He snickered! As the book said, it fits.”
“I accept who you are. Can you help us?” I asked.
“Can you acquire an orbit? Our two ships are off the planet. One is exploring a nearby star system and the other is on a vacation trip. I think one or both should be back today or tomorrow,” he said.
“Orbit insertion time?” I asked Sylvia.
“Eight hours twenty minutes,” she said. I passed it on to Rodel.
“Good. Establish any kind of orbit. If you are good for supplies for a couple days, we will try to get a ship to you as soon as one returns. Traffic Control out.” He was gone.
For the next eight hours, we figuratively bit our nails, watched their TV, and just kind of disbelieved our luck.
Bill said, “We are being carefully scanned from the planet.”
Rodel then transmitted again, asking if the ship could actually hold air. He said something about Swiss cheese having fewer holes.
We hit the sack after achieving orbit and listened to their radio. We were a hot item it seems.
As we lay in the sack, Sylvia asked, “Notice how beautiful all the women are? Not a fat one anywhere.”
“I did notice a few almost as pretty as you,” I said.
“Nice try, sport. I’m a dumb broad, not a blind one.” She kissed me.
“You are neither. I acknowledge they all looked sexy as hell; what should I do? Deny the obvious? Doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”
“Hum, I will reserve judgment, but they are beautiful. The guys also.”
I had to admit, those muscles on the males with the barrel chests that rippled would be an envy on Earth or New Earth by most men.
We talked and watched some comedy about the king getting fat. Sometime after that I fell asleep.
A Legend
Late the next afternoon the comp alerted us, “An unidentified ship approaching.”
“Not an HH?” Mary asked, clearly apprehensive.
Bill scanned the console data and watched the cam a bit.
“No, not one of our designs either, but it has wave-rider motors.”
By that time Sy
lvia and I were up front.
“Visual please?” It came up on video. It was close to one of our earlier scout ships, but bigger, more refined. “Zoom on the lettering.”
A close-up showed ‘UNF’ in black or dark blue, and a painted shield. It looked like a flag with a tiger or something. “Zoom in on the flag please?”
It was definitely a red-eyed, white and black saber tooth tiger. In scroll work across the bottom a motto in English, “To wear them in safety.” In the very corner was something red. “Any Idea what that is?” I asked.
Mary laughed, “Sure, a pair of red women’s underwear,” and she cracked up. “I like it!”
“It was in the book,” Sylvia said, and smiled too.
“What kind of motto is that?” I asked.
Bill said, “Theirs of course. You catch the reg number? C KotRT R3. I thought he said they had two?”
“Put me through to Rodel at TC,” I said.
“You are hot.”
Camelot Traffic Control, this is Explorer #7, over,” I said.
“Good afternoon, John. You see the Prince has returned I suspect?” Rodel asked.
“Yes, nice looking ship. I thought you said you had two ships?”
“Aaa, smart, you saw the R3. We lost R1 ten years ago; it was holed in a meteor storm while parked in orbit near the belt you just came from. That belt, along with the rest of the junk out there, is our old stellar system, by the way. We lost two fine test pilots that day. My fault, I did not think to add detection gear or laser defense systems for such small rocks and for a test flight. It was our first new, wave-rider/sustainer motor design. It was only supposed to be an out and back.”
“Old system?” I asked.
“Very long story,” he assured me.
“What does the C KotRT R3 mean?” Mary asked, reading it off the display.
“Camelot, Knights of the Round Table, Royal Yacht #3, and the UNF is United Northern Front, but it is the whole planet now. Most just call it Camelot but UNF is shorter,” he snickered. “He will dock with you in less than an hour. You have suits?” he asked.
“No, we have one EVA suit is all,” I said.
“No problem, he has a connection tube. Please be aware, the people aboard that yacht are all royal family. He is Prince Richard with his wives. Third in line to the throne of Camelot and the UNF. They went on a short vacation. He asks your forgiveness for the mess aboard, but he would rather pick you up now than make you wait two days while they do a turnaround and prep for a new liftoff. Is this acceptable? Or do you wish a formal meeting?”
“No, we really don’t know how long this tub will stay patched. We also are not equipped in any fashion to meet dignitaries but we are, err…stuck,” I said.
“Well, as you are new people from a different planet, we must observe some safety rules. First, all aboard will remove all clothing and leave it behind before entering the tube. You will be met by a medical robot who will do a series of viral and bacterial tests, administer any shots required, and take small blood samples for any, um, communicable diseases, as well as DNA and Genome studies. Do you agree?” He asked.
Mary said, “We normally keep our clothes on in mixed company.”
“I am aware of that arcane habit, but might I suggest when in Rome do as the Romans do? I assure you, it is a little different here. Close to a large nudist colony really.” He laughed. “Once aboard R3, if you insist, cover can be provided, but nothing may come from your ship at this time except your bodies. Sorry, rules. My rules. Out of contact for many years, we have no idea what viruses or bacterium you may carry nowadays.”
Sylvia said, “No worse than the NASA guys goggling us at the Earth medical testing centers.”
“No problem here. We can handle it,” I told Rodel.
“Excellent. We have a couple taboos here; break them and you could lose your head. I am quite serious,” he said.
“What?” Bill said.
“Women who are married are not permitted to have sexual contact with anyone but their husband. Mandatory for DNA tracking, of course,” he said. “If you are a married male, you may have only three wives and three courtesans at any one time. The wives must approve all courtesans, of course.”
“Of course, so obvious,” Mary said. She gave us a WTF look.
“We have a sufficient supply of males now, so a violation may also result in loss of your head.
“You females, if unmarried, may engage in sexual activity as courtesans which requires a one month commitment, and all children go to the male’s family for raising,” he continued. “You men may not forbid, or hinder them in any way unless you can legally call them wives, or have a courtesan contract.”
“Wow! True women’s lib and the men get stuck with the kids. I like that,” Sylvia snickered.
“One more thing—any male striking a female for any reason must, by law, be killed.”
“No domestic problems, I take it?” I asked.
“No real ones; a few drunks here and there were beheaded. Jake made it very clear to the builders’ tribe early on. Two 44cal rounds in a guy’s heart and all the male macho attitudes seem to disappear instantly,” he snickered. “Please remember, we are only a few hundred years out of the Stone Age. We also lost 50% of all our people in a war King Jake led, and 99% of those were women. All our current laws are made and enforced by the women, not the men,” he said.
“Even the three wives bull? And the prostitutes?” Sylvia asked.
“Yes. King Jake fought hard against it, wanting one and one, but lost. Those are our rules. The reasoning behind them can wait until you have seen our culture and understand us. We will make a few allowances for your unfamiliarity, but very few,” he told her.
“Weird, maybe they think differently than normal women,” Sylvia said.
“Our women are normal and exceptionally well adjusted. We find you Earthlings are the maladjusted ones,” he laughed. “If these terms are all acceptable, we will be there shortly. If not you are free to depart.”
“Like we have a choice?” I said.
“You do. Stay aboard, in about six months we should have made enough repairs for you to be on your way, maybe five. We do not have a spaceport or repair facilities built yet.”
“I ain’t staying, whatever it takes, but I ain’t staying!” I really thought it surprising that Mary would say that, but she did.
“I go,” Bill said.
I looked at Sylvia and she said, “Me to.”
“Rodel, we agree to all your terms.”
“Good, I will be there in fifty minutes.”
“You?” I asked.
“The Med robot is me, the onboard comp is me, and this is me. I have a few me’s running around.”
“We await your pleasure then. Out,” I said.
“Well, may I suggest we use our remaining water to try and remove some of our funk?”
We were done and ready, all four, butt naked. I heard a metallic clicking, a pop, and through the viewer I saw a test pull on the seals.
“Explorer #7, this is Prince Richard, if you will open your hatch please? We will maintain a slight over pressure through the tube and vent at the hatch. Bit noisy but biologically safer for us. Rodel will meet you for testing.”
Bill hit the door cycle, the inner portal opened. He then locked it and opened the outer. There was a slight hiss and once open a constant hissing from someplace in the seal. A little three foot tall robot with rubber treads was there studying us.
His speaker said, “Who is first please?”
“I’m the Acting Captain, I guess I’ll be the test dummy,” I said.
“Very well, hands up, spread your legs a bit. All will receive an anti-flu shot. We have a nasty one going around this year and it might kill you until your bodies adapt to our microbe environment.”
I did as he asked. He ran some probe over me, head to toe. I was swabbed and poked with a needle. I saw the blood vile go some place. “A slight iron shortage, two vitamins as w
ell. No unknown microbes, no STDs.”
A new needle, a poke, I was injected.
“John, you are cleared. You may go, or wait for your crew,” he said.
“I’ll wait if you don’t mind.”
“Not at all, back up a bit though please?”
I backed up into the tube a few steps.
Mary was next. “Hands up, spread your legs, please. Natural blond, nice,” he said. “You are quiet comely; men will like you.”
She gave me a questioning look.
“Archaic, but he means you are very attractive.”
“Oh, okay,” she said with a smile.
He ran the scan up and down her, took the blood, probed her, gave her a shot, and said, “I need a quick ultrasound. It is painless and a bit more sophisticated really, but the gel is a little gooey.” He applied it and checked her stomach and breasts.
“Tubes cut, one pregnancy aborted at some time. No cancers, correct?” he asked.
She coughed. “Yes, a long time ago.”
“Okay, blood good, iron good, you may go,” he said.
I pointed her up the tube but she went a little past me and whispered, “Isn’t anything sacred here?”
Rodel turned and flashed his glass eyes red, and said, “Yes, life is very sacred here. If you don’t want a baby keep your damn legs closed and you won’t have to butcher another human being!” There was no doubt this robot had an attitude.
Mary figured silence was the better part of valor.
Bill was next. He got a shot too, and the comp said he was low on some vitamins.
I told them to go up to the other ship, or wait at the door.
I heard Bill ask her, “When did you have an abortion?”
She didn’t answer.
Sylvia was next, and she got the same treatment.
“Also tubes cut. Requirement for space duty?” he asked.
“More or less, that or the pill. You get the boot if you get pregnant. Which is what I bet happened with Mary,” she said.
“Under Jake’s original definition of the human female, which he set for me when we first got here, umm, over two-hundred fifty years ago. You are as beautiful as all his wives except Linda, and are at least equal to any now alive. I doubt that is either a shock or surprise, but truth nevertheless. Oh damn, I forgot, if someone asks you ‘truth’? You tell it or say nothing at all. If you lie, whack, off with the head. Many of our people read eyes, some can touch you and read your soul, so do not try to lie, just refuse to answer. It is acceptable.”
Blood Sabers Page 6