by Ann Williams
She didn’t understand how she could put such trust in the man, when only a short time ago she’d thought him her kidnapper. But then neither did she understand the aura of innocence surrounding him, or the sudden desire she felt to know him better. Maybe it was because he was like no man she’d ever known, and after this brief interval in her life she might never know anyone like him again.
Chapter 6
“Sammell, what will they do to us if they find us here?”
He could hear the fear in her voice, feel her closing the distance between them, and suddenly his courage returned.
“They will not find us,” he said evenly, straining to see through the trees.
“But what would they do if they did?” she persisted.
“We have broken curfew,” he said slowly.
“And?”
“We would be arrested.”
“But…you said there are no jails….”
He turned slowly to face her. “I know,” he whispered softly, resting his cheek against cool earth, the answer to her question in his dark eyes.
Marina’s eyes widened. “You mean they’d…terminate us—just because we’re out after curfew?” She could feel panic rising inside her. “But that’s ridiculous! You don’t kill someone just because—”
“That will not happen,” he said across the rising hysteria in her words. “I will get us out of here.” He tried to speak calmly, though he felt every bit as anxious as the woman beside him. But he knew better than to give in to the fear clawing like a raging beast inside him.
Marina wasn’t as successful in her bid for control. Too much had happened too fast in the past few days, and she was beginning to feel like an animal trapped in a cage. She had to get out of the gardens before she gave in to the feelings that had been steadily building since she had awakened in this strange new world, and she began to scream.
As though he sensed what she was feeling, Sammell moved closer until there was little more than a whisper-thin current of air between them.
“I will protect you.” His eyes looked deeply into hers. He could see her terror. And though he didn’t know how to calm her, he knew he had to try. Both their lives depended on his keeping her from giving away their position to the police.
“I brought you here. I will not let anything happen to you. Trust me.”
He wasn’t aware that he’d moved, but suddenly he felt her soft cheek against his palm. The sensation moved through him like an electric current. And once the feeling had started, his hand seemed to have a will of its own. As though a distant observer, he watched it smooth the tangle of bright hair from her forehead and remove a red curl stuck to her lips, threading it behind one small shell-pink ear.
Sammell’s glance returned to her mouth. How red her lips looked. The upper one was delicately bowed at the center, the bottom one full and trembling.
“I trust you, Sammell,” Marina whispered, her face lifting slightly, her glance leveled on his mouth. Was he going to kiss her?
As though her voice broke whatever spell held him, Sammell gave his head a slight shake and blinked. His hand was tangled in the red curls, his face hovering near hers.
Jerking his hand from her hair as though from flame, Sammell shrank from her, confused by the strong mixture of feeling inside him and the changes he felt taking place in his body.
Marina frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” He pulled the goggles over his eyes and turned quickly toward the trees.
“Sammell? What did I do?” she asked in a puzzled voice. She’d never wanted anything so badly as she’d wanted his kiss just now. Had he sensed that and been repulsed by it?
“We must concentrate on getting out of the gardens without being seen.” His aura of untouchability was once more firmly in place and it piqued Marina’s sense of femininity.
“A moment ago you were concentrating on me,” Marina said boldly, risking his disgust. “What happened?”
When he didn’t answer, she put a compelling hand on his shoulder. The muscles turned rigid beneath her fingers. She removed her hand slowly, staring at the back of his head in affront. “Sammell…”
“My world is different from yours,” he said unevenly. “We do not touch.”
“You don’t touch? What do you mean, you don’t touch?”
“We do not touch each other.”
“You mean never?”
“Never—not deliberately.”
“But what about husbands and wives? Don’t they touch?”
“No.” He was feeling very uncomfortable. He’d never discussed touching with anyone. And discussing it with her, especially after what had happened just now, made him feel…
“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” Marina said abruptly. “How can two people living in the same house—two married people—not touch? What about children? How do you get children, if you don’t touch?”
“We must discuss this later. The police are very close. This may be our only opportunity to get out of the gardens undetected.”
Rising to his feet, he motioned for her to stay behind him. In silence they moved toward the hidden entrance to their hideaway. “Oh, wait! Monday hasn’t come back!”
Marina whirled toward the pile of acorns. Sammell was right behind her, reaching for her before he realized it.
“We have to go now!” he said urgently, withdrawing his hand before it made contact. “Your friend will be all right. He has plenty of family in these woods.”
“No!” Marina said angrily, searching for a glimpse of the small furry animal through the dense undergrowth. Monday was her only contact with home. She couldn’t leave him behind—it would be like giving up the idea of ever seeing her friends and family again.
On her hands and knees, she crawled to the gap in the underbrush where the small squirrel had disappeared. “I have to find him! He has to come back with me.”
“Marina—we have no time for this,” Sammell whispered desperately. “The police—”
“Don’t you understand?” she asked suddenly, stopping her frenzied search to stare up at him with tear-bright eyes. “I have to find him! He’s all I have….” Her lips trembled and a tear spilled onto one cheek.
Sammell stared at the drop of moisture in awe. He knew the lacrimal glands had the ability to produce tears, but he’d just never seen one.
A sudden rustling from the bushes drew both their glances. Monday scurried into view.
Marina gave a soft cry of welcome and held out her arms. As though they’d been friends for years, Monday leaped into them and she cradled him against her.
Sammell had never seen anything like the bond between this woman and the animal. He’d never shared such a closeness with another living thing, and it made him feel left out.
Filling his hands with the acorns piled on the ground at their feet, Sammell led the way out of the gardens. They sped along in silence, across the cobblestone road and into the trees at the other side, wary of stumbling on the police.
Sammell was concerned with getting his charges safely behind the walls of his cell, but Marina’s thoughts were on Sammell. It helped her to forget her fear by concentrating on something else, and she wanted to know a whole lot more about the man at her side and the world that he lived in.
As they moved like wraiths through the shadows, she studied him at every opportunity, but since leaving the park, he’d kept the goggles pulled over his eyes, preventing her from seeing his expression. It was hard to believe that a person could grow to adulthood without ever knowing the touch of another human being. And the thought of Sammell’s never having touched anyone—never having kissed or caressed a woman—intrigued her.
She wondered if he’d ever wanted to kiss a woman, despite the restrictions against it. How could men and women live and work together without becoming attracted to each other? What about proximity? It was human nature to become fixated on those with whom one spent a lot of time. What did they do to combat the natural desire t
o mate?
And then she remembered the drug Sammell had mentioned to her. Could there be something in it that prevented them from feeling the need for a closer relationship with each other? Maybe after years of taking it, it destroyed one’s physical capabilities.
Marina eyed her companion speculatively. Was that it? Was Sammell physically incapable of making love to a woman?
“How much farther?” she asked breathlessly, unable to recognize anything familiar in their surroundings.
“Just through those trees,” Sammell responded.
And then they were running and Sammell was at the door. He placed his hand in the identaplate, and a second later Marina was leaning against the inside wall of the cell with her eyes closed, trying to catch her breath.
Sammell leaned against the opposite wall, watching her. He’d felt her eyes on him several times on the journey back, and had wondered what she was thinking. Was she comparing him to the men of her world?
“Did you have someone in your world that you…touched?”
Marina’s eyes popped open. “What?”
“Was there someone you were close to in your world, someone you touched…who touched you?”
Was he asking if she had a boyfriend?
“No.” She shook her head emphatically. There had been no one in her life for a long time. Pushing away from the wall, she bent to set Monday on his feet.
Straightening, she pushed the hair back from her hot face. All at once she felt embarrassed by the very personal nature of the thoughts she’d been having about Sammell and by his query just now. Without looking directly at him, she said, “I need to visit the bath—necessary room.”
Sammell led the way to the lab, watching her disappear inside. He’d said something wrong. She was angry with him again.
Going to the cooling unit where water and the nutrient injections were stored, Sammell poured two glasses of cold water. A few minutes later Marina joined him, and he offered her a glass.
“Did you enjoy the trip?” He sensed her disquiet. He wished they could go back to the easy relationship they’d shared for a brief time in the gardens. He’d never had that feeling with anyone and he liked it.
“Yes. Thank you for taking me.” Marina took a long drink of water, eyeing him over the rim of the glass. “And thank you for the fruit. It was delicious.” God, she sounded like a school girl politely thanking her uncle for giving her a treat. “I only wish I’d thought to bring some of the fruit with me,” she added lamely, uncomfortable beneath his stare.
“It is better that you did not.” Sammell drained his glass and set it on the table. “It is hard to hide fruit,” he explained, catching the puzzled expression flitting over her face. “It decays. The acorns will not be a problem.”
Marina wrinkled her nose. “Oh—yes. I suppose it would be pretty hard to explain having food in your cell when you aren’t supposed to eat it.”
Finishing the water, she placed her glass alongside his and then she couldn’t seem to take her eyes off the two glasses sitting so intimately beside each other. Darting a swift glance at Sammell from the corner of her eye, she noted that he, too, was studying the glasses.
What was he thinking? His expression was unreadable. Was he remembering the way he’d touched her cheek in the gardens?
“You are no doubt tired,” he said abruptly, tearing his eyes from the glasses.
“Yes,” she answered awkwardly. She hadn’t felt this inept since her first date. Yet she didn’t really want to be alone.
“You may sleep now, if you would like.”
“Yes—thank you.”
Sammell followed her into the lab and stood awkwardly while she made herself comfortable on the floor inside the Recep. “I am sorry about this,” he said, indicating the sleeping arrangements.
After her experience earlier that day, when the lab had been invaded by one of the government inspection squads, she understood perfectly why she had to stay in the Recep. And after the police she’d seen tonight, she felt glad to be sleeping in a place where she would be protected against discovery by one of them.
“It’s okay.”
“Okay,” Sammell repeated slowly. “At times you have a strange way of speaking.”
Marina smiled wryly. She had a strange way of speaking?
“Sleep well.”
“You too.”
A moment later the energy curtain shielded him from view, and Marina felt homesickness swamp her. What would she be doing this minute if she was back in her own world?
“Sammell—are you still there?”
He turned quickly toward the sound of her voice. He felt disinclined to leave her. “Yes.”
“Tell me more about the men and women of your world.”
“We marry, as I have said before.” He could hear her moving around behind the wall. “And we have one child.”
“One child? Who makes that decision?”
“The state.” He wondered what she was doing.
“The state chooses your mate and decides how many children you can have?”
“Yes.”
“What if you want more than one child—or don’t want a child at all?”
“The choice is not ours.”
“It’s just so hard to believe that you don’t even know the woman you’re going to marry.”
“Sometimes we do. Intellect as well as genetics go into the choice. Sometimes the person with whom you work becomes your mate.” The rustling sounds had stopped.
“That’s positively feudal! Why do you put up with it?”
“The drug.”
“Oh—yes, I’d forgotten about that.” His mentioning it brought her earlier question to mind, but she hesitated. She hesitated so long that she wondered if he’d left.
“Sammell?”
“Yes.”
“What about children?”
He frowned. “I told you—”
“Yes, I know, but how…” How could she put this delicately? “If you aren’t allowed to touch, how do you…” She bit her lip. There was no delicate way to put it.
Understanding where her question was leading, Sammell answered, “Fertilization takes place in a lab. The man donates and so does his mate. The child is biologically theirs.”
“And the child? Does the mother carry it?”
“Carry it?”
“Yes—inside her womb.”
“No,” he answered after a long pause, putting a hand to his forehead. The skin felt warm and moist. “Gestation takes place in an incubator,” he continued, confused by the changes beginning to take place in his body. “After gestation the baby is released to its biological parents.”
“And you don’t share the same bed—sleep chamber—ever?”
Sammell was uncomfortable talking about this. “No.”
“You don’t make love?” Marina asked boldly.
“No.” Marina heard the reluctance in his voice. “The act of making love was banned a generation ago. It confused people—made them lose control. It kept them from reaching their full potential as useful citizens. Society is now run on a strict regimen of work.”
“And do you believe that? Do you believe love is something bad?”
Sammell avoided giving a direct answer. He could not speak intelligently on a subject he knew nothing about. “My world has achieved a high level of existence without the loss of life. Everyone works toward maintaining that level. The government would have us believe that control is necessary to maintain it.”
“What about love? Love makes life worth living.”
“I know nothing about this thing you call love.”
“What’s the purpose in all this?” Marina gestured, though he couldn’t see her. “Why do you get married? It’s a farce. Why have a child, if not to love? Where is the meaning—where is the joy—in your life?”
Sammell had been asking similar questions of himself for a long time. “I do not know. We do as we are told—we have always done as we are told.”
/> “Not always,” she corrected. “You told me about a time when you broke the rules. That’s how you learned of the drug. And you’re planning to destroy it. That certainly isn’t following the rules. Are there no others like you?” She couldn’t believe everyone had gone along with such a shallow philosophy without protest. “Has no one ever rebelled?”
“I do not know,” he answered stiffly. He felt her contempt as though it were directed at him. “I am not aware of such a rebellion.”
“My, God! I feel sorry for you,” she whispered passionately. “I feel sorry for all of you! I’ll take my world with all its problems and imperfections over the sterility of this one, any day. I don’t know how you manage to stay alive. I would die here.”
Sammell’s heart missed a beat. “That is why I built MDAT,” he said quickly. He drew closer to the energy curtain, wanting her to know he wasn’t like the others. “Can you not understand?” he whispered urgently, wanting her to see him in a different light. “I want to change my world!”
“I hope you can. I hope it isn’t too late.” After several moments of silence, Marina whispered, “Good night, Sammell. Sleep tight.”
“Good night…Marina.”
As his footsteps faded, Marina realized that he’d spoken her name, not only just now, but back in the gardens, as well. That realization should have cheered her, but it didn’t.
She lay down on her blankets, feeling cold, despite the even temperature of the room. Shivering, she felt Monday snuggle up against her and pulled him close. He was the only thing she understood in this place of contrasts.
How could a society allow itself to be dominated by such inhuman rules? What terrible point had life reached in the past to make such a warped philosophy look good enough to make people want to embrace it?
From all she’d seen so far of the Earth, it appeared healthy and beautiful. The same couldn’t be said for its inhabitants, despite their advances in medicine and technology. What a terrible thing that amid Earth’s newfound beauty and life, human potential had reached an all-time low.
The thought of this happening to her world made her feel physically ill. It made her want to get back to her own time as quickly as possible before her world was changed into something beyond recognition.
