I decided that I liked the city. No vehicles were allowed into the town centre, save for various flying machines, and besides, most people were familiar enough with Relocation to regard it as normal, even indispensable. What a difference that could make on Earth, I mused. Still, it required huge amounts of energy, and that wouldn’t help close any coal-fired power stations. Still, I wonder…
The President’s apartment, on the lofty 27th floor of the tower, had views over the whole city. I was conducted inside, some ID checks were performed, and I was let loose. The party was already fairly buzzing, with about 60 people hanging out, talking, drinking or playing a curious game. It resembled chess, I suppose, in that it was strategic and players took turns, but instead of pieces, the board consisted of a small forest of tall, blue shapes – cylinders, cuboids and star shapes – which were raised to various heights. The players pondered for a moment before lowering the piece by a certain margin. I gathered that the player with the lowest pieces was doing better. It look enormously complex.
The President lost no time in finding me. For the purposes of the evening he, and it seemed everyone else, had transformed into a humanoid shape. He was tall, good-looking and suave, in a black dinner jacket with severe, slicked-back hair.
“Ah, good evening”, he strode towards me, extending his hand. “We are all delighted you could make it. Please…” he motioned towards the sofa, where there was a space among other well-dressed humans. The room was beautifully appointed, with a thick, white carpet and white wallpaper with gold patterning. The drapes were left open to watch the sunset over the city, which was magnificent. The President himself handled my drink order.
“Scotch, wasn’t it?” I smiled, thanking him. “I remember our first meeting very well, not only because of your drinks choice, but for your confidence amid such strange circumstances.” I clinked glasses with him, raised it to the multitude, who nodded back, and took a gulp. Delicious.
“Our experience of the outside, as you may well already understand, has been somewhat mixed.” How different he sounded from his ethereal manifestation; now he sounded like an Oxford-educated socialite. “The policy of isolation, which served us well for many millennia, has given way to a more cordial set of relationships with our neighbours and the nearby systems, and others are interested in gaining our trust. Which”, he paused, glancing around for approval, “is given only after very careful thought”. There was nodding.
There was a well-dressed couple next to me on the sofa – cocktail dress and full evening attire – and we chatted for a while as the President worked the room. He was a smooth operator. Wherever he went there seemed to be gales of laughter, especially from the ladies. I had a hundred questions about their transformation abilities, but it seemed rather impertinent to ask; I would sooner have asked a stranger if he were circumcised.
“So, it is to your home planet you intend to travel, isn’t that right?” the woman next to me wanted to know.
I took another gulp of my scotch. It was working beautifully. “Yes, that’s right. My planet has experienced some fairly horrible catastrophes during the time I have been away, and I’ve formulated a plan with the help of Takanli and others to go back and see about averting some of the disasters.”
The woman was impressed. “Alone? What a long journey!”
I chuckled. “Well, after the Chrono-Travel, I’ll place myself in stasis onboard my Cruiser, and only wake up a couple of days before my arrival at the Earth.”
“And what do you think they will make of your arrival?” the man asked, refilling his own glass from a decanter on the side table by the sofa.
“I’m actually hoping to keep a really low profile.” They seemed surprised. “My planet has yet to experience alien contact, or genuine time-travel, and I worry about their reaction. I’m going to return stealthily, to pretty much exactly the point I was taken, and then set up a facility from which I’ll do my best to work on Earth’s problems before they become too serious.”
We drank to that. These were friendly, personable types, but I couldn’t shake the sensation that this event had been manufactured for my benefit. I felt like I was in the middle of a stage play, but I was the only one who wasn’t acting. I drank my scotch, listened to more opinions about time travel and what the Earth needed (most of which required technologies which would have left a human from 2008 reeling) as well as thoughts on society in general.
Finally, the President rescued me. “I’ve been neglecting you. Let’s have a chat on the balcony”. He brought a bottle of the scotch with him and led me out through double doors. The balcony was fairly small and deserted, but it was a fine evening and he seemed to want to talk. He poured us both generous measures and set down the bottle, leaning on the railings and gazing out over his city.
“How are you feeling? Are you ready, do you think?” He seemed sincere, interested, concerned.
“Well, yes. I’ve had a tough couple of weeks”, I’d repeated that mantra to all manner of people in the past few days, “but I’m over the worst. There has been a lot to adjust to, a lot to take in.”
He drank deeply, smacked his lips. “Of course. Better not to wait, though. The technology is ready, you’re ready, I’d say tomorrow you should make your way to the research station.” I nodded agreement. “You’ll see some amazing things there, and meet some remarkable people.”
Was this a pep talk, a cosy little chat with a friend, or something else? I got the feeling the President would crack the code for me soon. Why else bring me out here?
“So, it is Earth year 2008 that you intend to return to, am I correct?” I nodded. “The middle part of the year?” Nodded again. He took another drink. “I wonder if there is something you might do for me?”
Here it comes, I thought. There is no way they were going to give me a free ride on the most advanced technology in the galaxy.
“There is a physicist called Hawking who was alive in 2008.” He seemed to wait for confirmation.
“Yes. He is quite ill, but he is alive.”
“Do you know him?”
I chuckled slightly. “No, I’ve only ever seen him once, in Cambridge, but we’ve never met. Why?”
“I wish for you to bring him here.”
I very nearly dropped my glass. “That’s going to present some problems”, I said mildly. “Time, distance, health, not to mention that he’s unbelievably famous and would be missed if he just up and left…”
The President was unconcerned. “I know all of that. But my request stands.”
I puffed out my cheeks, took in the view for a moment. This was a tall order. “I wonder how I’m going to manage that”, was all I said.
The President drained his drink, made to head inside. “You will have all the help you need.” With that, he flashed me a smile and rejoined the party. I stayed on the balcony, with the view and the cool, evening air. And the bottle of scotch. How good of him to leave that behind.
Half an hour later I was distinctly tipsy. The party seemed to progress well without me, and I was tired of talking about myself. I wish I hadn’t come, wish I’d hung out with Jackson or something, or just had an early night. I poured my eleventh large measure of scotch and leaned sloppily against the railing.
The door opened behind me, quietly. I turned round to see a young woman, perhaps 27, looking around on the balcony. “I’m sorry”, she whispered, “I didn’t want to disturb you but I was out here earlier and I dropped an earring.” I smiled, rather drunkenly.
“No problem. I’ll help you look.” We scoured the ground together but it was nowhere to be found. “Maybe it fell over the edge?” I offered, rather unhelpfully.
“Maybe. No matter.” She took out the other earring and put it in her purse. “My name’s Aldara. I think I know who you are.” Fame again. Whatever happened to lazy, anonymous Sunday afternoons in the pub, reading the paper, doing the crossword, watching the rugby?
“Pleased to meet you”, I raised my glass. She took a look
at me, then the bottle.
“Looks like you’ve made friends with that scotch. Are you OK?” She had a worldly air to her, compassionate and self-confident. I found myself wondering if she was here alone.
“Not really. Tomorrow I’m going to fly my first solo interplanetary mission to a remote scientific station where I’ll be prepared for an experimental time-travel procedure which will transport me back to my own time and hand me the biggest challenge ever handed to a human being. This”, I raised my glass once more, “is why I’m drunk as a skunk this evening”.
She smiled. “I understand. It must be hard.” You have no fucking idea, little bunny, I wanted to say. “Should I leave you to it, or can I offer some company?”
Company actually sounded nice. It sure beat standing here watching the dark sky over the jungle, drinking myself stupid. “No, please, I’m not at my best this evening but if you’re free to hang out, I’d like that.”
She opened her purse and brought something out. Lipstick, I figured. While waiting for her to apply it, I felt a sudden, slight pinprick in my leg. “Hey, what the fuck was that?!” I yelled, feeling suddenly sharp, alert and a bit angry.
“Alcohol antidote. There’s no way you can go back into the party, or say goodnight to everyone, in this state. And they won’t let you fly the Cruiser tomorrow if you’re all groggy and hungover.”
“Wow”, I offered. This stuff was good. Within a minute, the scotch-induced fog had lifted, I was standing up straight, pronouncing words correctly, everything. “Thanks. I guess I did have a couple too many.”
“Don’t worry about it”, she chuckled, putting the pen back in her purse. “You’d be surprised how often it comes in handy. Tell you what, let’s get back inside and get to know each other. Slightly chilly out here.” She was wearing a cocktail dress which was rather skimpy. I admired her curves as she turned to leave. Cute, with breasts of just the right proportions, I noted. Nice ass too.
Back inside, my return was noted and I made an apologetic face. Aldara covered for me (‘he just needed a little air… big day tomorrow… just a lot to take in’) and avoided any awkwardness with the President, who had gotten a poker game started and was still drinking hard. I wondered how often he used the Hangover Pen. Aldara found us a quiet corner and we chatted.
She was loosely associated with the Chrono-Travel people, working as an associate professor at one of the city’s universities, specializing in some of the philosophical elements of time travel and quantum computing. She was extremely bright, I found, especially when discussing her own work, but was just this side of being nerdy. Someone who liked technology, but had a balanced enough world-view to put it into context. Someone who decidedly worked to live, not the other way around. After all the science types and lawyers of the past couple of weeks, she was as welcome as the spring after a long winter. And she was totally cute.
“So how do you feel about Relocating?” she asked.
“Well, we don’t have it on my planet, of course, and to be honest it was a bit of a shock at first…” I stopped once I noticed she was laughing to herself. “What did I say?”
She put down her glass. “I mean, how do you feel about Relocating back to my apartment?” She had a lovely smile.
“Ah”, I chuckled, “sorry”. She was still laughing. “I’m new here.”
She patted my shoulder. “Well, tomorrow you won’t be here at all, and it would be a shame if we didn’t have the chance to get to know each other a little better before you left.” Thank God, I thought, for sexually confident women.
Within a few minutes I had bade my farewells, thanked the President and promised to do my best for him (he winked, slightly drunkenly, and then put down a full house and collected a mountain of chips) and we stepped into the hallway.
“Ready?”
She took my wrist. “Energise” I muttered to myself, enjoying an in-joke for once.
Her apartment was rather smaller than the President’s, but a lot more homey. Her bedroom, I found, was spacious, with mirrors almost everywhere and a large double bed. “Nice”, I offered. She wasted no time, pushing me back onto the bed.
“Yes, you are”, she said, and kissed me, straddling me. She lifted up her dress to show me her panties, which were flimsy, white and almost see-through, and then dropped the straps from her shoulders to reveal her breasts. Small, pert, firm, perfect.
Within moments we were naked and exploring each other. I had a nipple in my mouth while her hands found my cock and began stroking. She was inexpert, but enthusiastic, and she was rewarded with a huge erection. I hadn’t come in nearly three weeks and my balls were swollen and heavy. With Takanli’s technology, who knew how much sperm they held? Aldara was licking my balls. It felt amazing.
I rotated her around so that I could lick her pussy. She was completely shaved, I noticed, and had a tasty little cunt, thoroughly wet already and made wetter by my saliva as I tongued her. I brought her on top of me in a sixty-nine and she made a decent job of sucking me, hand stroking my shaft while her mouth sucked and licked my tip. God I needed to come.
I bathed her clit with my tongue and she seemed to be close to coming. Releasing my cock, she gasped, tensed and, with a lovely pressure inside her pussy, came. Her pussy flooded with juice, which ran straight down my chin. She gave my cock another lick and lay back on the bed.
“Please…” she whispered. “Fuck me or I’ll just die.”
I mounted her, slotted my erection into her soaking cunt, and pushed inside. She tensed, came again, threw her arms around me. Once I knew she could take my whole length, I didn’t hold back. The bed shook as I pounded her, sliding deeply into her body each time, arms locked to give me leverage, heavy balls slapping against her. She kept coming, face buried in the pillow part of the time, gazing at me lustfully the rest of the time. I felt her cunt lips moisten with each orgasm – she produced oceans of juice – and I got ready to come.
She had a beautifully soft pussy, extremely wet, which urged me on. I gave her my last few strokes, put my mouth on hers and let my orgasm start. I had experienced orgasms in the past which had lasted over a minute. This one lasted for two, and seemed to last forever. Spasm after spasm jolted through my cock, every few seconds, as I pumped huge blasts of semen into Aldara’s womb. The white liquid overflowed and spilled onto the bedsheets, coated her lips, ran down into the crack of her ass.
Finally, I rolled from on top of her and collapsed, gasping, next to her on the bed. “Jesus”, I muttered. “That was fucking huge.” She held me, somewhat shaken. “Are you OK?” She nodded, snuggling into me. I could feel her racing pulse, her quickened breath.
We took time to relax, for our bodies to recover. “I really needed that”, I confided. “I’m really happy we met tonight.” She smiled at me.
“Me too. I’ve never… well, that’s to say… that was my first sex as a human.” I had kind of expected to hear this confession, although part of me had hoped to avoid it. “I loved it.”
Well, that was something, I suppose. “What is your natural form?” I asked, slightly trepidatious. I thought about White Cloud and the other gaseous creatures I had seen, or the hovering blue sphere with the wizened brown guy inside.
“I am naturally a liquid being.” I stared at her. “I was born in one of our oceans, but my species has gained the same shape-shifting gene as many others. I may adopt any shape. Would you like to see?” She started to get up.
“To be honest”, I said quite firmly, “no. I know you as a lovely young girl. It would change things entirely if you became something else.” She seemed offended. “I mean… look, you have no idea at all how new this is for me. Please try to understand.”
She nodded, seemingly accepting of this explanation. “I’m sorry if I offended you”, I said.
No, her face said. “You can make it up to me in the morning.”
*****
There was a soft knock at the door. “Hey, dude, you ready?” Jackson was in a brighter moo
d this morning. “Looks like you’re all set.” He eyed my duffel, which was zipped up and waiting by the door. “Have a good time last night?”
I smiled. “Yeah. Met someone.” I was giving the room a last look over, making sure I hadn’t forgotten anything. I packed up my lectern and turned out the bathroom light.
“Oooohh, no kidding… was it that cute professor from the University?”
“How come everyone knows everything, all the time?” I asked, not really surprised.
“Dude, they got cameras here too. The party was being webcast, part of the President’s new charm offensive, and I saw you two chatting. Could have sworn I saw you Relocate together, too.”
I grinned at him. “Mind your own business.” He whooped and grabbed my duffel, pacing down the corridor and downstairs to the lobby.
“OK, brother, this is where I leave you. Places to go, people to dodge, you know how it is. Look”, he leaned in, “stay frosty, keep in your toes. And don’t fuck this up.” He handed me my duffel and a waiting car took me over to the elevator nexus.
This huge structure, perhaps the biggest in the city, acted as both arrivals and departure point for the city’s space elevator. Cars were electromagnetically sent hurtling up, or would come sliding down, every few minutes. Three of the humanoids were there to meet me.
“You are prepared. The elevator is coming. You will board.” Back to robot-speak, I saw. The car was there in a few minutes. I boarded and got strapped in. In moments, we were away. Just like that, the start of the journey.
There was a peaceful 20 minutes while the car ascended to geostationary orbit. I looked down at the city and the dense jungle which surrounded it, reflecting on my stay. Jackson had been great. I’d have cracked without him. And Aldara… this morning was wonderful. We had sex in her shower, lifting her up and holding her, legs around my back, kissing constantly, giving her slow, deep strokes. We had shut off the shower, dried each other, and returned to her bed. I showed her some more positions, fucking her from the rear, and with her on top. She loved both, coming profusely. When the time came, I let her stroke me to my orgasm and I showered her breasts, tummy and pussy in many waves of my juices. I could have fucked her all day, all week, but time was against us.
Voyage Page 25
