Aspirant 2: A Sci-Fi Harem Adventure

by Maxx Whittaker

  She’s adorably puzzled. “Why? I know your value. You know mine. Does it matter if we are alone or with the rest of our clan?”

  “Seriously? Yes.” I squint at her, trying to tell if she’s messing with me. “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Goddamn, Threvian dating is a lot different than ours, isn’t it?” I pause. “Are we dating? What do you call this? Mating? Comrades with benefits?”

  Syl shrugs, clearly not following.

  “Never mind. Just… There are ways you get to know someone that are… different, when you’re alone with them. How you communicate. Show affection. Conversate.”

  Her eyes widen. “Yes, that makes sense. It’s like combat… You fight differently in a unit than you do when you are alone.”

  “Sure, I guess. I mean, I’m not sure everything has to be a battle metaphor, but if that works for–”

  “Or mating. When we mated on the Citadel, there were three of us, which meant that Mika had to be pleasured in a different way than–”

  “Okay, okay,” I interrupt, because if I don’t, we’re never getting off this cliff. “I think you get it. We need more alone time.”

  Alone time. Jesus. How do I balance that now that there are three women in my life?

  Talk about first world problems. I have a feeling that there’s a legion of men out there that’d kick my ass for even considering being stressed by this. “Anyway, we should probably start climbing.”

  But Syl doesn’t move, not at first. She considers me, claws raking her belly unconsciously, drawing attention to the dark scales between her legs. “Sam, are you saying that you wish to mate with me alone next time?”

  My mouth goes dry as I remember the electric orange folds of her pussy budding from between indigo scales. “I’m not… Not sure that’s where I was going with that.” I forcibly rip my gaze from her crotch, locking on her eyes. “But yes. Now that you ask… Absolutely fucking yes.”

  Her smile widens before something in her eyes damps her emotion. She raises a hand to me, claws retracting, and rests it on my wrist. “Sam… Thank you.”

  It takes a deep breath before I’m calm enough to answer. I know she’s trying to be serious, but if this is taking us back to the place where she’s thinking about ditching… I rely on my oldest move: Defusing the situation with humor. “Why? For wanting to climb you like a tree? For wanting to screw you six ways from Sunday? Because you definitely don’t have to thank me for that.”

  “No, Sam, not for those things. Well, not only those things. Just…” She trails off. “Thank you.”

  I’m not getting anything else out of her. Not yet. But I’ve done what I set out to… Reminded her that we need her. That we care about her.

  That I do.

  “Alright,” I say, kneeling at the edge of the cliff. “How are we gonna fuck this pig?”

  Syl’s nose wrinkles. “Fuck… This pig? I… Hope that is a metaphor.” She swallows. “Fervently.”

  “Heh. Yeah. Just a saying from a show I like.” I elbow her. “Though, I did have a crush on Miss Piggy when I was a kid.”

  “I do not know what that means.” She elbows me back, her motion mimicking mine. Hers is a lot harder. “I must conclude that you are attempting to… What phrase does Mika use?” She considers. “Fuck with me. Yes. You are fucking with me.”

  I gasp out a laugh that hurts my newly bruised rib. “Syl! You curse?”

  “There is a certain satisfaction to it. Mika has been teaching me when we are alone.”

  She kicks a pebble over the edge of the cliff. “For example. This will be a bitch to traverse.”

  She looks to me, waiting for my response, and she’s so adorably proud of her cuss usage that I can’t help but crack up. “Syl, that was fucking perfect.”

  She nods. “Good. That is what I strive for.” She nods over the edge. “As to the fucking of this pig… I have a plan.”

  “I love it. Awesome.” I swallow when she turns her back to me and arches. “Uh, what is it?”

  “Get on my back, arms around my neck. Do not grip too hard. And I would advise the usage of your power to keep from falling off.”

  “Uhhh…” I repeat. “You’re going to climb down with me on your back? No offense, but that just seems like climbing with extra steps. I think it’d be easier if I just head down myself.”

  “Negative. That will take hours. I have a faster way.” She looks over her shoulder, giving me a look of pure confidence. “Trust me.”

  I rest my palms against her back. “I do. Even if you are nuts.” I rest my chest against her back, circling her neck with my arms. “Just don’t do anything too crazy.”

  “Do not worry. I know exactly what I am doing.”

  And then she jumps off the cliff.

  It takes me a split second to realize what’s happening. I glance down, and the rapidly approaching swamp turns things very real very fast. “Ohhhhh shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii–” I manage before the roar of the wind swallows my words and breath.

  We plummet like a stone, hitting what I’m sure is terminal velocity in a manner of seconds. The wind tries to tear me from Syl’s back, and with my upgrades I’m probably about to choke her out. I lessen my physical grip and extend a mental one. Lashing myself around her chest takes less than a second.

  Which leaves me just enough time to start panicking.

  A thousand thoughts barrel through my head like an avalanche that swallows logic and reasoning. She’s lost it and has decided to take me with her. The regret of everything that’s happened and how people have treated her since we got here have pushed her over a literal and metaphorical edge. Maybe suicide is a sacred practice among her people, and the only way to do it proper is to take someone you love when you cross over to the Broodmother.

  All I know is that my life is in her hands. “Syl! What…”

  She rotates in the air so we’re facing the cliff. It’s a wall of grey, blurring past us horrifyingly past. “Get ready!” She calls. “Hold fast!”

  “Get ready?” I shout. “For wha–”

  Her arms stab out, and ten claws pierce the cliff face.

  The sudden drop in momentum is almost enough to wrench me from her back, power or not. The makeshift band I’ve strapped us together with strains and almost snaps, and I groan it digs against my back hard enough that it knocks the air from me.

  We slow down, gradually but surely. Bits of stone torn free by Syl’s claws pepper our faces and arms like tiny bullets, but I barely notice them. All I can concentrate is the ground. We’re so close now that it fills my vision when I look down, and it’s like we’re driving headlong into an impossibly huge mountain.

  Slower, slower… How do Syl’s claws not break? I know they were near indestructible before Citadel upgrades, but the force pulling at them is insane. They’re still at least a foot deep in the wall, arresting our fall bit by bit, but it still feels like we’re still too fast. I stare down, eyes watering at the stinging wind but unable to look away as my brain calculates the terrible arithmetic of our speed versus how much further we have to go.

  Four hundred feet, I think. “Syl! We’re going too fast!”

  “Your turn! Use your power!”

  Use your power?

  I need to have a serious discussion with her after this about discussing plans before she puts them into motion.

  But she’s right. I’m stupid. How did I not think of that?

  But how? I’m used to bludgeoning things, smashing them aside, and pulling or pushing. But eating a dozen feet a second as we get closer and closer to splattering to a bloody pile at the bottom of the drop makes it hard as hell to get creative.

  No. Stop. Not helpful.

  I throw my power out in every direction at once, searching for something. Anything to anchor to. Or maybe I can push Syl’s claws deeper… No, that’d just wreck her hands. My awareness of the world doesn’t help my panic; seeing and feeling how fast we’re falling feels a lot worse when I can fe
el it on my skin and in my brain.

  Come on, Sam. Fucking think.

  Two hundred feet. We’ve slowed so much, but the hail of stone around us as Syl tears it from the cliff face is a strong sign that it’s not enough. We’ve gone from unrecognizable pile of blood to unrecognizable pile of chunks at the end of this. Still not enough.

  Then it hits me.

  The ground.

  At a hundred feet, I throw as much of my power at the ground as I can. I funnel it upward like a chimney, engulfing us, dragging at our bodies as I use the now terrifyingly close swamp as a support.

  I have no idea what I’m doing. It’s all instinct.

  I just hope it’s enough.

  An ominous ache in my brain ignites. A tiny drop of blood leaks from my nose and trails up my face.

  Fifty feet… Twenty…

  Syl retracts her claws.

  Ten feet. Still falling just a bit too fast…

  I throw a pillow of air between us and the ground, then angle it so we don’t hit head on.

  Then I pray.

  We hit. Hard.

  I gasp as pain ignites in my legs, as we tumble in a pile of scales and skin away from the cliff. Syl’s elbow spears my gut, knocking the air out of me. My forehead mashes into her chin like a fist, but the only person hurt is me; she’s like a goddamned suit of armor for all the damage she takes. I’m a lot squishier, and after a lot of rolling and momentum arrested by flailing limbs and unyielding ground, we come to a stop.

  The world whirls around me. I’m too dizzy to think. My body hurts in a dozen places. Gingerly, I take stock. Nothing broken, and I’m not bleeding too badly…

  I finally open my eyes.

  Syl straddles me, staring down in concern. “Sam, are you well?”

  “Syl… That… Was fucking…”

  She sits back against my cock. It’s as rock hard as the cliff face we’ve just escaped.

  “...amazing,” I gasp.

  Syl rests harder against me, palms at my chest. “I thought you would think so.”

  Something about the danger, the brush with certain death, Syl’s quick thinking, me saving us at the last second… “Jesus, is this how skydivers feel all the time? I’m starting to see the appeal.”

  “I do not know that that is,” Syl says, leaning close. Her tongue lolls out slowly, licking at my chin. When she retracts, she swallows my blood.

  That just makes me harder. “Is that the thing we conquer before we mate? Because I really hope so.”

  Syl grinds her soft scales against my pants, and if she could eat me with her eyes I’d have been devoured the moment we landed. “As you wish, Sam. One last ti–”

  She cuts off abruptly, flowing up like water. She turns to the mist, claws raised.

  One last what? Time?

  I don’t have time to ask. From around us, howls rise in the swamp, an answer to the question of what interrupted her words.

  Syl turns a slow circle as I lurch up behind her, rage and regret warring inside of me.

  Whatever interrupted us is going to pay.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  “Beasts of some sort,” Syl says. “Another challenge of the game, perhaps.”

  “Shit. Yeah. Wandering monsters.” Why didn’t I think of that? Of course an MMO has random shit to kill.

  From the mist, shapes manifest. They’re low to the ground, still emitting strange, low howls. “Wolves?”

  “No,” Syl says.

  She’s right. They’re on four legs, and they sound like wolves, but that’s where the similarities end. They’re lizards of some kind, with pointed snouts filled with long teeth. Their skin is pebbled and looks hard enough that it’d turn away most weapons. Their tongues lick out, black and mottled, disgusting mockeries of Syl’s.

  They advance on us, spreading out. There are at least six of them.

  “Why… the fuck… didn’t I ask for a weapon?” I hiss, turning to track two of them that flank us.

  “You are a weapon, Sam,” Syl says matter of factly. “So am I. Now… We kill.”

  Okay. Gotta admit, that sounded awesome. And it made me feel the same.

  The first wolf thing launches at me. I barely have time to register that one’s also attacked Syl before I slap down with my power. I imagine a massive hand smashing the creature to the stones, not caring how silly it seems.

  The beast suddenly plummets, hitting the ground so hard that its legs break with sickening cracks. I smash it again, and its head hammers the ground. Blood spurts from its muzzle before it spasms and dies.

  Hell yeah. One down.

  A quick glance over my shoulder tells me that Syl’s doing as well as I am. She’s speared the first attacker through its face with one hand, and by the way the thing twitches as it hits the earth, she definitely pierced its brain.

  I don’t have time to revel in how badass we are. The other wolf things have no fear and range out to attack. I’m not surprised. If these are videogame monsters, they’re probably not programmed to run.

  Not like we need them to.

  Not like I want them to.

  It’s not until I reach out and grab the second flanker, raising him up into the air to smash him back down, that I realize I’m laughing. When the beast tries to rise, I lift it again and send it sideways like a missile into a nearby tree. It’s far enough away that the mist eats its details, but I hear the crunch as the beast wraps around unyielding wood before dropping dead into the long grass.

  I turn to help Syl with her attackers, but she’s got three of them down and clearly doesn’t need the assistance. The last wolf thing is larger than the rest, hulking like some kind of half bear half lizard. It roars at us and bits of green saliva spray out before it charges like a boulder tumbling down a hill.

  When it reaches us, Syl steps aside, effortlessly flowing around it. She takes my hand and spins me out of its path like we’re dancing. My clothes rustle in the breeze it creates as it thunders past.

  Syl glances at me. “Yours, I think.”

  “I got this.” The creature tears through the brush, claws clacking against random stones, trying to slow. Its path takes it just past the tree I used to bludgeon the other one. “Perfect,” I whisper, and just before it passes the tree, I nudge with my power.

  It diverts, unable to turn fast enough, and runs face first into the immovable trunk.

  Its skull explodes against dark wood. Blood spurts out like dark rain and rains down way further than physics dictates it should. Bits of bone and gore spatter us as the creature’s body bounces off the tree and comes to rest a few feet away.

  “Well,” I chuckle, “that was exci–”

  The beast’s torso explodes in a shower of crimson, painting us in streaks of gore.

  Fucking videogames.

  “Exciting?” Syl finishes.

  I wipe monster blood off my face and spit some out for good measure. “Less so, now.”

  Syl turns to me, eyes narrowed. Appraising. Long tiger stripes of blood paint her face and body and she doesn’t clean them off. Her tongue darts out, tasting the air. “There are very few things in life as worthy as a good battle. And I have not fought many where I enjoyed it as much as I do when I fight with you.”

  She’s got that look again. I love it. “Are we talking about fighting or fucking?”

  Her eyes narrow further. “Sometimes, they are the same thing.”

  I’m half a second from throwing her over the nearest stump when another creature corpse suddenly explodes. This time, the acrid tang of shit assaults our nostrils as blood mists our faces. “Oh God,” I say, covering my mouth and nose. “What the hell?”

  “Defense mechanism,” Syl says. “We should go. The smell will attract more of them.”

  God damn these cock blocking… Things.

  We jog off together, clearing the area as fast as we can. Syl ranges ahead, and somehow gets half lost in the mist despite her brilliant scaling. She blends with the dark shadows thrown by the tre
es, flashing in and out of cover.

  I follow more awkwardly, splashing in and out of knee-deep pools. We’re not fully into the swampy area yet, but if I remember correctly from when we looked down from above, it’s not far until the trees mostly disappear and are replaced with shit tons of water separated by little islands.

  At least I’m a good swimmer.

  It’s not helping that I’m about as turned on as I’ve ever been. Running’s a bit awkward when you’re flying half-mast the entire time. But everything about the last twenty minutes was so exhilarating. Falling, surviving, fighting… The way Syl looked at me after the fall or after the fight. The need in her beautiful eyes.

  God, I want her.

  I’m distracted enough that I almost run headlong into her back. She’s stopped just beyond the wall of mist and is staring out across the wetlands.

  “Hey, everything okay?” I gasp as I skid to a halt.

  She doesn’t respond at first. I stand awkwardly next to her and realize that the temperature’s increased ridiculously in just the short time we’ve been running. I tug at my collar, wishing Astra’s material wasn’t so tight. “Damn, it’s gotta be one hundred degrees,” I gasp.

  “Yes.” Syl frowns.

  “You okay?”

  She glances down at her body, still covered in blood, before looking to me. Her brow knits. “Yes, Sam, I am fully functional. I took no damage from the fall or the–”

  “No, no,” I say, stopping her with a hand to the wrist. “I mean… You know. Mentally. You seemed bummed… Disturbed… By something.” For the last few hours, I think. “When we stopped,” I say instead.

  “Yes,” Syl says. “But first, where are we going? You spoke to Wick.” She looks to the ground, still frowning. “I did not. I… Was distracted and did not think to.” She turns away. “A stupid mistake.”

  “Hey, that’s why we rely on each other, right? You knew I had it covered.”

  “Yes, I know. But still…”

  I wipe sweat from my forehead. We’re at the edge of one of the long channels of water, and dark as it is, it still looks inviting as hell. “No worries. We’re headed that way, I say, pointing off in the distance. A blue beam of some kind rises from the Earth. Its point of origin is obscured by distance, but it’s unmistakable; a softly glowing pillar of light that raises at least a hundred feet, exactly as Wick described it. “That,” I say, surprised she hasn’t already mentioned it.