by I. Christie
Harriet stepped over to her, taking both ends of the necklace and waiting for Sharon to turn her back to her. Her fingers were not nimble and kept missing the clasp as well. They both seemed to be having the same problem.
"There, I got it!" Harriet sighed. It was difficult to keep her hands on the necklace and not wandering over a body she remembered responding to her touches in terribly erotic ways.
Sharon turned around to face Harriet and the clasp came undone. The weight of the necklace pulled it down into the cleavage of the top. Harriet made a reflex grab for it and grasped a handful of Sharon's breast with part of the necklace.
Without hesitation, Sharon pressed Harriet's hand up against her breast firmly and leaned to kiss Harriet's surprised mouth, tenderly at first, pressing her lips against the unresisting soft lips.
Harriet heard a groan, which well could have come from her, as her fingertips pinched a taut nipple that her mouth watered to cover, and would have, if her lips were not being hungrily devoured.
Sharon's hands gripped Harriet's waist, pulling her hips into hers. Her hands moved to her back, feeling the muscular frame and remembering the first time they had made love. Her hands slid to Harriet's buttocks, groaning at how they felt as she squeezed them. The need to rub her swollen clitoris against the strong thigh between her legs was overwhelming.
The kissing turned into passionate grappling as cloths were loosened and two pairs of hands searched for bare heated skin. Shoes were kicked off and tops removed. Sharon's dress slipped to the ground. Through the sheer fabric of the slip clinging to Sharon's slim frame, Harriet sucked and played with each taut nipple, working them so they were so hard they hurt.
"Bite me!" Sharon breathed urgently. "Harder!" Her fingers entangled Harriet's hair, reveling in the soft curls. "Ahhhrg! Yessss," she hissed as she felt Harriet's hands slip between her legs, sliding up her wet thighs. Strong fingers pressed against the wet crotch of her underwear, feeling the hard clitoris that pushed urgently against her cupped hand.
"I want to feel you inside of me, Harriet," she hoarsely directed to her lover. "Please…now," she panted. Never in her life could she remember sex being as urgent and exciting as what she was experiencing with this woman. And she wanted more.
Harriet moved her fingers past the panty barrier and caressed wet swollen lips throbbing with her heartbeat. Her finger slid into the hot slick opening feeling the inner muscles surround her finger undulating as if to pull her in further. Harriet buried her face in Sharon's neck sucking on the soft skin as she slid another finger inside of her, pumping along the lubricated walls.
Sharon's hands cupped her breasts and pinched her nipples hard, causing her to cry out in pleasure. Their lips met again for a passionate tryst as they both vied for possession of the other.
Harriet stopped her ministrations and picked up Sharon, who whimpered her protests at the pause. She carried her a few feet to the bed and then laid her on the bed with her legs dangling over the edge. Pushing up the slip so it bunched on her flat stomach, Harriet pulled the underwear off, tossing them behind her. Harriet cupped her mouth over Sharon's labia, working Sharon until her hips were undulating so quickly that Harriet had to restrain them with her hands, pulling Sharon closer to her as her tongue brought her closer to a climax.
Sharon cried out Harriet's name and for a moment Sharon was suspended in a wonderful place, where pleasure thundered through her senses. When she was able to focus on Harriet again, she found her curled up against her, holding her until the last of the pleasant shudders passed.
"Let me undress you," she whispered in Harriet's ear, pushing her onto her back while restraining her hands. Harriet lay still as Sharon kissed the bare skin of her breasts, teasing each nipple as her hands moved to undo the fasteners to her pants, the only bit of clothing Harriet had on. For the rest of the night, with a few breaks, she had Harriet's undivided attention.
***
*
Harriet had the next two days off and Sharon had nothing scheduled at work so they both remained in Sharon's room, exploring each other's sexuality, playfulness, and listening to each other as they shared parts of their lives.
As a shaman, Sharon attempted to heal some of Harriet's dark areas when they were making love. However, some places were shut tight, even when she was experiencing the heights of lovemaking. Sharon found that the only time Harriet opened up fully, was when she played her flute…in her quarters…alone. She made sure she gave that time to her for she knew Harriet would shut down if she invaded that space.
Gedaliaha was right. Harriet knew on a deeper unconscious level, that those that came close to her were in danger of dying terrible deaths, and it would be at the hands of Alan. The brunt of Alan's obsession was a dark malignant madness, focused on her. With prayers and chants the dark cloud that had engulfed her, was pushed back until Harriet was able to rebuild her own energy to keep it from overwhelming her. Sharon asked the healers on MageWield to add their support.
After about a year of living separate, Harriet moved in with Sharon. Sharon had a large living space that could easily accommodate two people with separate careers, especially since Harriet split her duties on another ship, Ziggy, spending weeks at a time away. They found their habits and requirements for solitude were similar, thus making adjustments to one another not complicated.
***
***
They had been living together for about four years, and Montran's times away were lengthening. If she returned late at night, Montran had at first choosen to sleep in the frontroom so as not to wake Sharon, but Sharon put a stop to that. She would rather wake for a moment, then snuggle into her arms before falling back to sleep. Such was the case of the previous night. Sharon felt her get up for a moment and use the toilet and then laid back down. She opened one eye and stared at Montran, who was studying her.
"What is creasing your brows, Second Lieutenant Montran?" she joked as she ran a fingertip over Harriet's brows in a caressing gesture.
"Your body," she responded in a husky voice.
"What about my body?" Sharon responded in a low and seductive tone.
"You always keep it covered." Harriet's pulse point at her throat was beating rapidly. Her voice was almost a whispered response as her eyes fluttered from the tender touch on her forehead.
"Ahh. You want to see more?" Sharon purred as she forcefully rolled Harriet onto her back and straddled her, lifting her silky nightgown that hinted at what lay beneath. She covered Harriet with it, giving her a more intimate view of what her eyes had been studying. Their play was cut short when Harriet's alarm to get ready for work went off.
***
***
Sharon paused at noon from her work and while waiting for her food to heat, picked up her messages.
One was from Harriet reporting she had been called back to the Centurion's flagship, Ziggy, and that she would be away for a while. Sharon smiled, "Harriet, you're spending more time there then here. You should post the Ziggy as your permanent station instead of the Nettle."
Sharon held her breath as the meaning of her seemingly casual comment deepened. Getting up from her chair she paced as she mentally reviewed what she had been reading in the Rune castings for coming events and, to her chagrin, had been ignoring...until now.
"Fata Morga!" she muttered in exasperation at herself. "Of course, the change is near. I've been ignoring it…as if putting off what needs to be done will change anything." Sharon closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep pain filled breath. "So, the time is upon us, Love. I'll have to shoo you out of our love nest, Darlin'." She paused to wipe tears filling her eyes, "I'm sure you'll forgive me sometime in the future, but…I'll be missing you and worrying that you'll go into this dragging your stubborn heels all the way. You are so stubborn about accepting your role in this change, Dear Heart."
Sharon let the empty feeling of Harriet's absence fill her so she could get a handle on the emotions she would feel when she asked her lover to
move out. She was going to have to come up with a good reason and…use some of her shaman abilities to ease Harriet's hurt…if she could.
Another difficult lesson in life for both of us, but not to be shared in each other's embrace, my Love.
Sharon slumped back in her chair letting the tears fall to release the tightness around her heart. Sobs tore her throat as her heart and chest ached for what she had to do. After a while, she took a deep breath and tossed a tissue into the waste bin along with the others.
Enough of this maudlin mood.
She sniffed and grabbed another tissue to blot her wet face. Glumly, she moved on to the next message.
"Oh, Fey! Just what I need, a message from Alan!" As she read it, she realized it had more vehement than usual. Looks like his sticks are warning him of the change too. Shaking her head, she moved onto the next message, not bothering to respond to Alan. She learned this was the best way to handle his mad moments, not adding to the fodder, which even an acknowledgement of his message would do.
Three days later as she was again going through her mail, she found a coded message from one of her covert agents.
Hmmm. What's this? A message from Lee. Hopefully some good news. Sharon jumped up from her chair excited, "Yessss! The time is now!"
The small changes taking place throughout the galaxy were a prelude, or perhaps part of the cause, to a larger change that would affect more people than a year's space travel would encompass. It was a paradigm shift in one galaxy's power structure that would effect others.
Sharon nodded to herself as she glanced at her reflection in the shinny surface of her work area. "It really has begun," she murmured solemnly.
With Alan, Sharon had been playing a dangerous game of avoiding his insistent and increasingly raving demands about delivering Harriet into one of his agent's hands. To insure that Alan did not damage or physically torture Harriet as he typically did with others, LaDea Gedaliaha and Sharon thought it was better to get Harriet to sign on as a metradame under the guise of taking out a life insurance policy. That would be too much of a temptation for Alan to pass up and it would limit his mistreatment of her before she was sent to the metralabs. Her associates were now in place at the two metralabs where memories were erased and the chip to enforce servitude was inserted. It was safer to push Harriet out of her safe haven, than wait for Alan's agents to find a way to kidnap Harriet from the Nettle. Agents could be unpredictable, playing a game of their own. Once in the labs, Sharon's operators would take care of Harriet, making sure Alan did not get her in the end. Since faces were changed in the labs Alan would have no guarantee that if he did get a metraperson that it would be Harriet, and her agents would make sure if he did get someone, it would not be for long that the person would suffer. DNA camouflage was an art form for some people.
A week later Harriet returned from duty and Sharon asked her to move out, citing their increasing involvement with their own work, and that she wanted her space back. Harriet agreed, relieved. Her nightmares were increasing as her workload increased and she was afraid Sharon would start asking about them. So far, her superiors had not asked.
Shortly after Harriet moved into her own quarters, the Nettle suffered hull damage and had to be hauled into a yard for repair. Harriet received her transfer papers making her a permanent crewmember on the Ziggy, a two-day travel from the planet Sharon's group was studying, thus making a renewal of their relationship difficult. Sharon and the rest of the science crew aboard the damaged Nettle resettled on their new science vessel, Curious Cat, to continue monitoring the planet undergoing reterraforming.
Though Harriet was transferred to the Ziggy, where Alan and his agents would have a difficult time to reach her, the runes and oracles reported Lt. Montran would never arrive on the Ziggy.
***
Chapter 13
Harriet laboriously treaded her way through the medical jargon on metrapeople. Guardian's medical library had extensive information on the subject but Harriet found that only the medical write-ups had substance…almost too much. The four largest contributors wrote under pseudo names, Acronym, Iwilla, Maa, and Heartstone. When she did a biography on the names, she came up with no information. Shaking her head, she returned to the menu. With her limited time, she needed to concentrate on the meat of the information.
With eyes closed, her head propped up in the palms of her hands, and elbows resting on the table, she went over the information, turning over familiar phrases that seemed misplaced yet juxposed within the image the phrase conjured up was the message. It tired her mental processes but delighted her more fluid creative side.
A buzz dropped her back into a more solid reality.
"Yes?" she asked impatiently rubbing her tired eyes.
"Are you too busy to visit Guardian?" Charles's polite voice inquired.
Harriet glanced at the time on the bottom of her screen. Two stan hours had passed.
"Oh blasters!" Jumping up, she knocked the plate with her partially eaten sandwich to the floor. As she ran out of the room, the bot was picking up the plate and sandwich remains.
From Harriet's short research, she felt she had enough information to suspect that the scientists working in the metralabs knew that the bodies they revived were living people with fully functioning brains and self-will. It explained why they needed to implant a chip to enforce compliance with whatever they were commanded to do. What confounded her was the blatant disrespect to free will the whole organization that processed this production of metrapeople knowingly practiced. She was shocked that that could and was happening in Committee territories.
In Com-C she only found Charles and Guardian. Guardian's dais was lit up with a smug Copoc spinning a puzzle cube before it in the holographic image, moving each piece into a new position. Charles was holding a cup of steaming tea.
"I'm late," she stated flatly.
"No. As a matter of fact - you started early on your project," Guardian informed her happily. The cube disappeared and the Copoc holograph image leaned forward in its seat. "Captain Zohra is pleased at your initiative."
The message of Capt. Zohra being pleased with her initiative gave her the image of a dog getting a pat on the head. That was not the impression she would have liked…from anyone. Irritated she responded shortly, "Could you be clearer."
"Since we will be dealing with Alan's group, who are metrapeople, we will need to learn as much as we can about them. I have the information and my own opinions, as do others, but another's view would be invaluable. So, what have you synthesized so far?"
"Well…uh." Startled with her show of prickliness, she took a deep breath while collecting her thoughts. Gratefully, she sat on the edge of a chair Charles provided. He handed her a warm cup of tea, which she acknowledged with a nod, vaguely aware of taking it. Why is my opinion needed? The captain worked with them and would have a better view. Suddenly she remembered Sharon Teal. Oh, I hope he's not going to think because Sharon and I were lovers...or Carol. Egads. I'm starting a trend here. Shaking those thoughts from her head she refocused on the immediate.
"Like me, the subjects were all signers of a document with of of the two insurance companies giving total ownership of their remains after death, provided it is within four hours of being legally declared dead. And they were all revived approximately four stan hours after the declaration and by the same organization of scientists. They certainly can move their various teams quickly." She looked up at the holographic image of Guardian, frowning and then rubbed her forehead, "The ones placed with their new owners show no evidence of brain damage; however, they do not exercise self-will, even when their life is put in jeopardy by their new owners, unless an override is part of the program. They are, in effect, people programmed to be mindless slaves." Lt. Montran paused for a moment sipping her tea as she thought. "However, from what the writers on this topic believe, even with all the programming, there is an awareness of self within the metrapeople, otherwise the pain inducers would not have to be implan
ted, which also functions to block certain memory functions. It's almost like the lobotomy some planets used to perform on their problem citizens. The big difference is the metrapeople can be educated to different skills, should the owner's needs change, whereas a lobotomized individual is permanently an idiot.
"Another important difference - according to Iwilla, one of the authorities on metrapeople, there is one tone that could erase all the previous programming, but she did not say what it was. However, she did discuss the danger of using it, preferring the single tone that each metraperson is set to. In the case of Alan's metrasoldiers, I can see her point. Capt. Zohra mentioned they were all procured from planets that practiced genocide warfare and trained to kill themselves and as many of their captures as possible. So, the prospect of snagging one at a time is something of an interesting task." She grimaced at the thought of trying to snag a fighter that was rigged as a bomb.
"The research I focused on, was on recovering erased personalities." She paused, taking another sip of tea, this time noticing the tangy taste. "It worries me that if there is that much information on the subject, why has it not raised red flags with the scientific community …and not just in Committee space but the Collective's also." She glared up at the holographic figure of the Copoc that was watching her. Since he was once a scientist she was calling upon him to justify the moral depravity she found in a group she once thought had higher values than what was evidenced in the research.
