Being Amber

by Sylvia Ryan

  “Shit.”

  She exhaled softly. It made sense. Automatic Disqualifiers weren’t diseases that killed efficiently. The Gov didn’t mind the quick killers. Automatic Disqualifiers were the conditions that killed ever so slowly, leaving the afflicted person in need of extensive treatment and long-term care.

  The bandage over the newly tattooed amber band around her wrist caught her attention. She ran her finger over it, feeling the sensitivity of her skin beneath. She’d been planning on getting a sapphire daisy chain as her designation tattoo. Plain bands were for her parents’ generation. There were options now since the Gov loosened its restrictions. Simple designs were allowed instead of only a solid band. She’d been so blindsided at the time she didn’t even look at the available amber designs.

  Somehow, Jaci never actually believed this could happen to her, that she’d be designated Amber. Before she received her summons to appear for her designation, she daydreamed that her testing showed her to be so genetically clean that she was designated a Diamond. Those perfect people with the ideal mixture of good genes and the absence of bad, were instantly immersed in a life of privilege and pampering. It was like winning a lottery. She supposed a lot of people had that fantasy. However, she’d totally dismissed the thought that there was even a possibility of being designated an Amber.

  Jaci walked over to the window at the far end of the apartment. It offered a bird’s eye view of the curious circular city. The day was gray and stormy, suiting her dire mood and doomed life.

  It was quiet and still in the shadowy room as she stared out the window, brooding. Now that the influx of new information slowed, her mind started processing other things. Things she hadn’t dealt with yet because everything happened so fast.

  Significant things.

  Devastating things.

  A tear overflowed the lower lid of her eye and streamed down her face. She tried to swallow down the tight knot in her throat as she focused on her reflection in the window. But the hard-core reality of her new life suddenly inundated her, impacting with full force and striking a blow so deeply that it cut her to her very soul. Her suffering flourished, becoming palpable to her, chilling the air and seeping into her skin. The mere beginnings of it laid waste to her insides.

  Goose bumps rose on her flesh. She was an Amber now, and for the rest of her life until the day she died of that god-awful disease.

  Her friends and family were gone, suddenly blinked right out of her life. She was alone, utterly alone here. Her stomach swam.

  She was scared.

  Thunder rolled deep and ominous in her ears, vibrating the windowsill. The colorless gray of the sky was the perfect backdrop to the tiny drops of rain that landed and gathered together on the glass, forming trails that flowed down like teardrops. The window cried with her.

  “I’ll never have a baby,” she whispered into the silence of the room. Tomorrow she’d be sterilized.

  Suppressing the pandemonium of feelings trying to crash out of her was futile. Disjointed fragments of thoughts and fears flew at her, and utter grief and pain raced unbridled through her mind. She felt violent, wanting to throw something, smash anything into tiny pieces.

  A primal moan rose up from the depths of her soul and burst through her mouth, filling the room as she sank to her knees. Now, all she had was the wait for her defective gene to kick in, to make her pathetic and helpless, a prisoner within her own skin, before it finally finished her off. In the course of one afternoon, she’d lost everything. Even her life had been shortened significantly with the knowledge of the deadly gene she carried. Rage and despair came from so deep within her gut that she felt like she was going to throw up between the wrenching sobs. She cried, pounded and screamed an entire pathetic performance for an audience of none until there was nothing left in her. The feel of the cold floor on her face was the only thing she registered as she collapsed the rest of the way, settling into a shivering heap on the hard tiles. She curled in on herself.

  Jaci remained there sorting through all of it in her head as the hours passed. Her cheek resting on the floor was cool and wet from the tears she’d released and let fall unchecked. It felt good against the humid, New Atlanta summer heat.

  Finally, trembling, she lifted herself to her knees, then to her feet, and got into bed. She lay there with her eyes open, but not noticing dusk’s shadows overtake the room. Hours of monotonous, opaque blackness enveloped her as she lay awake through the night. Sleep wouldn’t come.

  Jaci thought seriously about committing suicide. There wasn’t anything left for her. She would spend the rest of her days waiting to be diagnosed with the first symptoms of the debilitating illness that would eventually kill her. She doubted a day would ever pass in her life that she didn’t feel like she was waiting to die.

  If she killed herself, there would be no impact on any other person in the world. Nobody would miss her now.

  She thought about others who found their lives too hard, the pathetic throng of people who slouched in the plastic chairs of the waiting room for the Gov Assisted Suicide Program, GASP. Jaci felt sick thinking of the brick smoke stacks of the cremating ovens behind the building. The acrid smoke released from the burning bodies saturated the air with a revolting smell. GASP ensured a quick, painless exit for those who sought it. But Jaci would be damned if she was going to let the Gov take that last act from her.

  Lying in the dense gloom of her new home, her mind frantically groped for a foothold, something to reassure, to comfort. But, the same hopeless thoughts rolled through her mind like booms of thunder refusing to be ignored.

  Near dawn, Jaci fell into a half sleep, her mind still running through her new circumstances, still seeking a way to end her life. A pleasant way. A way that she would actually have the courage to follow through with.

  When she opened her eyes again, a stream of sunlight slanted through the window. She glanced at the clock on her roommate’s nightstand. About a half hour remained before she was required to report to the transport.

  Jaci looked around. Despite the fact that someone’s belongings were in the apartment, no one had come home. She went into the bathroom, brushed her hair and teeth and washed her face.

  The dark hair and brown eyes looking back at her in the mirror illustrated the lack of genetic diversity she offered the world. Weariness and misery faded her features. She expected to look different, uglier. She felt uglier, smaller somehow, but she looked the same as always.

  A half laugh, half snort of despair shot out of her. Eyes closed, Jaci bowed her head in defeat. Tears welled behind her eyelids, preparing to escape. When she opened her eyes, a steady stream wet her cheeks and her nose began to run again. She grabbed a tissue for now and one for later before walking out of the apartment.

  Herds of people crammed the hallways, socializing and laughing. Most of the apartment doors were open, letting sunlight filter into the corridor. Quickly, she walked down the hallway, looking at her shoes. She encountered slight brushes from the bodies of people who encroached in her space as she passed them. At times, it felt as if someone was actually trying to stop her. She didn’t look up. She didn’t want to meet anybody new right now. She was nauseated, physically ill. She couldn’t stop. She didn’t stop.

  The transport was waiting for her when she got to the front entrance of the building. She climbed in and was relieved when saw she was the only passenger. She plopped down, this time out of earshot of the driver and rode the entire way with her head in her hands, still looking at her feet.

  Chapter 2

  Xander Dimos looked up from his vantage point between Emily’s legs to see her blindfolded and writhing with need.

  “Rock, please,” she hissed.

  Xander had stopped the dance of his tongue over her clit to appreciate the sight before him. Rock had Emily’s wrists clasped in one hand and leaned over her, sucking on the pink tip of one breast and kneading the other. She was breathtaking in the dim light of the room, pleading for more
of them and groaning when her requests went unanswered. He dipped his head and took her clit between his teeth, raking it lightly. Her throaty groan was heated. She was close.

  He moved to kneel between her legs and then hooked them in the crooks of his arms, spreading her wide. His cock nudged the glistening opening of her pussy. He waited for her pleas again before he entered her slowly. The sight of the mushroomed head of his cock and then the length of him, disappearing inside her in a smooth, warm glide, was intoxicating. Her quick intake of breath revealed that, even blindfolded, she knew it wasn’t her boyfriend, Rock, entering her. She didn’t know it was Xander acting as the third in her birthday gift. She didn’t want to know. The who wasn’t important, according to Rock. It was the act of having two men at one time that she craved.

  Rock leaned over and brushed his lips over hers. It was a hot caress of breath that prompted another whisper of Rock’s name to pass through her flushed, swollen lips.

  Her breathing was heavy and erratic, and the shine of moisture on her skin reflected the flickering candlelight in the room.

  Xander stopped his slow in-out glide and Emily immediately arched herself up, trying to recapture the cock hovering at her entrance.

  “You want more?” Rock teased her.

  “Yes.” The word floated from her, a mere breath slipping through her lips. Her chin was upturned toward the sound of Rock’s voice. Her face held the purest expression of love Xander ever saw.

  Rock gave him a quick nod, and Xander pulled back but only long enough for Rock to roll to his back and pull Emily on top of him. Rock spread her legs wide so the woman straddled him, and he breached her pussy in one smooth stroke, revealing his easy knowledge of Emily’s body. Both of his huge hands gripped her hips, holding her still. She undulated on top of him, trying to get more, squirming to pleasure herself by creating friction where their bodies met.

  “Lie still,” Rock ordered, as he spanked her ass.

  A cry escaped Emily’s lips, “Oh God, please fuck me.”

  “Shut it.” Rock cracked her ass again and looked up at Xander who was positioning himself behind Emily.

  Xander grabbed the lube and placed the end of the tube into her rear entrance squeezing a liberal amount inside of her.

  “Fuck,” she said again. Another crack on her pink ass stopped her from saying anymore.

  The whimper that accompanied the slide of Xander’s two lubed fingers inside her tiny anus made his cock twitch with anticipation. She tried to get more by leaning back into him, but she was at the mercy of Rock’s big hands, holding her still. Xander worked her anus while her desperate moans filled the room. The sound was lovely and for an instant, he experienced a surge of longing for a woman of his own, someone who sweetly whispered his name with a thread of need woven into it.

  He retreated for a moment to lube himself and then guided his cock to the entrance he’d so carefully prepared. Emily cried out as he popped the head in past the tight muscle of her ass. Xander met Rock’s gaze in the flickering light of the room and he waited until Rock gave him a slight nod. When he finally got it, Xander penetrated her completely until his hips were against the beautiful, firm rounds of her ass.

  “Oh God,” she cried as Xander looked down at where their bodies met. He stilled when he was completely seated inside her, taking in the graceful slope of her back. He pulled back slightly, just an inch and rocked back into her, watching his cock disappear inside her again. He ground his molars together, striving to maintain his control while inside the exquisite tightness.

  He withheld the moan he so desperately wanted to release. It was vital he be totally silent, so as not to give away his identity as their third. Xander didn’t want his interactions with Emily to change. He valued her friendship too much.

  A leisurely, fluent give and take of Emily’s body emerged between Xander and Rock. Being partners at work translated well into partnerships in other areas, including this one.

  Drawn-out moans escaped Emily’s lips as she tried to continue her writhing, searching for perfect positioning, for ultimate fulfillment.

  Xander heard Rock turn on the vibrating cock ring before he felt the subtle buzzing travel through her, adding an extra layer of stimulation. The speed of the cooperative penetration between them quickened and Emily’s cries intensified, becoming louder and more demanding.

  Rock reached around and grabbed her ass in his massive hands and held her down hard against him, no doubt pressing her clit into the vibrations. Xander’s penetrations ended with his hips slamming against the backs of Rock’s hands. The pumps provided a steady rocking motion for her body to move over Rock’s cock and graze over the vibrating nub.

  She wailed unintelligibly, obviously deep inside her own headspace where there was pleasure and probably not much else. He gazed down at her feeling savage and followed his impulse to grab her damp curls, gathering them together and using the ponytail to tug her back into him as he thrust deep and hard into her ass.

  Emily stiffened and froze for several pumps before an uninhibited wail of sheer pleasure sprang from her lips. Her inner muscles tightened, squeezed down on Xander’s dick with tremendous strength. Her orgasm triggered his. He fought to keep his eyes open while he came. His gaze never swayed from the sensuous scene spread out before him. Emily’s profile was stunning in the midst of her climax, and Rock looked at his beautiful girlfriend with an expression of reverence. Anyone with eyes could see he loved her. He loved her enough to give her anything for her birthday, and this was always what she asked for.

  When Xander recovered from his climax, he freed his softening cock from Emily’s ass, left the bed and silently got dressed.

  He watched as Rock caressed Emily’s smooth skin, inducing whimpering moans from her moist, swollen lips. The dim lighting caused her nude body to become a study in contrast, light and shadow, curves and planes.

  Rock wasn’t done with his girlfriend, but Xander’s role in the night’s sexual performance was in the first act only. Emily wanted to be overwhelmed by pleasure, to swim in it, to drown in it. Rock indulged her as much as he could and Xander was glad to help, but the rest of the night was for the two of them alone.

  Xander turned and left with only the snick of the door closing behind him to announce his departure. He smiled as he wove through the people in the hallway. From Emily’s multicolored curls and nipple piercings, to Rock’s tattoos and bad-ass attitude, they were as delinquent as a cop and his girlfriend could get without being arrested themselves. Xander chuckled and shook his head. It had been a good night.

  He liked the threesomes with Rock and Emily. It was the most satisfaction he’d gotten out of sex in a long time. Too bad it was only once a year. The wild, anonymous sex Xander sought out in Circle City during the last five years got him off, but as time passed, he gained less and less satisfaction from it. Lately, sex was like surgery–sterile, and done only when necessary. He sometimes yearned for love and intimacy like Rock and Emily enjoyed with each other.

  He cut himself short. That was a dangerous train of thought.

  Xander stepped off the elevator on the ground floor of Rock’s building.

  Normally, before his roommate Diana had gotten married and moved out of Circle City with her husband, he would have gone back to his apartment. She would have teased him about being such a slut and then he would fall asleep spooning her like every other night since the day she moved in.

  Some men would have been happy to have a respite from the responsibility of their female, but he wasn’t one of them. Without Diana to take care of, the apartment felt empty. It wasn’t home anymore.

  Lost in thought, he exited into the humid summer night and walked the path that meandered from building to building.

  He was well aware he hadn’t adjusted well to Diana’s absence. It was ironic that he’d never realized how much he needed her until she wasn’t there anymore. The responsibility of caring for her and protecting her created stability in a life that was self
-destructive and wild when they’d first met. He realized now that her presence established a home for them both. No matter where they’d been or what they’d done since they crawled out of bed together that morning, there was someone to go home to–assigned family, but still family.

  It wasn’t sexual with Diana. Never sexual. But it was intimate. Her unconditional acceptance of his authority, and her warm body got him through many nights of rebellion and insecure feelings about his place in the world.

  The soft ping of the elevator roused him from his rumination. The door opened and he found himself looking down the hall of his floor in building seventeen. Small crowds gathered here and there outside open doorways.

  He walked through the first gathering and into the apartment beyond.

  “Can I crash here?” he asked Caroline when he found her cross-legged on the bed, watching TV with a group of others.

  “Xander, you know you don’t have to ask,” she said, moving over and making room for him.

  “I’m working tomorrow. I have to set the alarm,” he warned.

  “No prob.”

  He climbed in the bed, finding enough room among the large tangle of people to get comfortable and fall asleep.

  * * * *

  “You wanted to see me, Cap?” Xander stepped into his supervisor’s office.

  “A fallow has been transported over from the Sapphire Designation Center. Jordan’s covering her right now,” Captain Rush said, without looking away from his compad. He touched his screen a couple more times then looked at Xander. “Looks like you’re on. We need to have a strategy session. I notified the rest of the task force team. Take an hour for dinner. We’ll meet at eight in the briefing room.”