Sam's World

by Ann Williams

  “H-here?” His fingers fumbled with the makeshift pins and the towel was suddenly in danger of slipping.

  Marina caught it tight against her, goose bumps dimpling her arms as Sammell’s fingers brushed the side of her breast. “There,” she said quickly readjusting the towel, wanting this to be over so she could breathe normally. “Now, can you pin it?”

  “Yes.”

  His warm breath feathered her naked shoulders. Closing her eyes, she bit her lip and concentrated on keeping her balance, the uneven tenor of his breathing whistling in her ear. It felt as if it took hours for him to fasten the towel in place, and by the time he was finished her knees felt weak as water.

  Sammell lifted the jumpsuit over her shoulders and smoothed it in place. The act wasn’t necessary, but it was an excuse for him to go on touching her—and he wanted to go on touching her very much.

  Now that he was losing his reticence about it, he couldn’t understand why people didn’t touch each other all the time. It caused such strange and remarkable sensations inside.

  “Shoes,” Marina said abruptly.

  Sammell looked taken aback.

  “Shoes,” Marina repeated, pointing to her bare feet. “I can’t wear my sandals—unless your people wear sandals?” she asked hopefully.

  “No, but I have more of these.” He indicated the boots he wore.

  Marina was skeptical about the fit, and sure enough, when he returned with the boots they were at least two sizes too big. But she managed to fix that by putting the technical manuals Sammell had given her to read to good use.

  “Put these on.” He handed her a pair of wraparound dark glasses and put on a pair of his own. “Do not remove them until we return.”

  Outside, they hurried away from the house, keeping a sharp eye out for any of Sammell’s neighbors. They knew he was not yet mated and he didn’t want to arouse their curiosity.

  This time they had no need to slip from tree to tree in the thick woods. They walked side by side at the edge of the cobblestone road.

  Marina was happy to be walking in leaf-dappled sunshine beneath a blue sky. She felt as if she’d just been released from prison and she couldn’t take in enough of the sights. In moonlight the small cottagelike dwellings with their walkways and flower gardens had been picturesque, but in daylight their charm reminded her of home—the home in Indiana where she’d been raised.

  “You were right,” she murmured, “your world is indeed lovely.”

  They passed several people, some walking, some riding bicycles and a few on horseback, and Marina had to caution herself against familiarity. Everyone nodded when passing, but there were no smiles of greeting, no friendly conversations. And she quickly understood Sammell’s hesitation in taking her out without her breasts bound.

  The women and men looked very similar. They dressed alike, had their hair cut in the same style, and except for the softer bone structure in their faces and the occasional turban, it would have been very difficult to tell man from woman. And to her amazement—though Sammell had warned her about it—everyone had blond hair and dark eyes.

  Sammell touched Marina lightly on the arm. “We will have more privacy down this path.”

  They had been walking for several minutes in silence, without seeing anyone else, when Sammell touched her arm again and motioned behind them. “There are fruit trees growing back there in a spot that cannot be seen from the path.”

  “Good day, Sammell.”

  Sammell stiffened. “Larkin,” he said, turning, “what are you doing here?”

  “Taking the air, same as you.”

  “You have not been at work for the past two days.” Sammell glanced up and down the path as though expecting to see armed guards about to descend on them.

  “Do not worry about that. I have taken care of things with Bartell.”

  Sammell’s glance sharpened on the other man’s face. “You have been to the lab?”

  “Yes. I was in the lab yesterday. I spoke with Bartell, but he did not want certain people to know I was there.”

  Sammell frowned. “What are you saying?”

  “Oh, I do not think this is the place to discuss work.” Resting his glance on Marina, he stretched his lips in the facsimile of a smile and offered her a nod. “I have not seen you before.”

  “Ah—” Sammell thought quickly. “This is a colleague from a visiting sector. She is a brilliant research physicist in the field of matter transfer.”

  “Is that right? Well, why is she not on our team?” Larkin asked.

  Sammell saw his glance linger on Marina’s chest and responded quickly, “Perhaps she will be.”

  “I must go. I will see you tomorrow.”

  “Larkin!” Sammell stopped him. “Are you aware that a test is scheduled for tomorrow?”

  “Yes, I suggested it to Bartell.”

  “You! Why?”

  “I thought it was time.”

  “Time? I do not understand.”

  “You will.”

  Sammell stared at Larkin’s retreating back. Marina stared at Sammell’s expression. “What is it?” she asked after a long moment when he didn’t move. “What did he mean by that?”

  “I do not know.”

  A bird began to trill in a tree overhead and Marina grabbed his hand. “Come on. It’s too beautiful a day to stand about and frown.”

  Sammell resisted, his thoughts still on Larkin’s cryptic remark. But Marina wasn’t having any of that. This was her first day in the sunshine for far too long and she wasn’t going to let it be spoiled.

  When he wouldn’t budge, she ran away from him. And Sammell could do nothing but give chase before she got into trouble. Before long he was taking the lead. Marina followed, and soon they were ducking beneath tree branches, squeezing through narrow gaps between bushes, stumbling, falling against each other, rolling on the ground and laughing uproariously as they removed leaves and twigs from their clothing.

  Having reached the place he’d told her about, he stopped and pulled her down beneath the cover of bushes. Sobering instantly, he gazed at her, realizing that they were lucky they hadn’t been spotted and informed on. By laughing and running, he’d broken the law. And this woman was responsible for it. He should be angry, but he was elated. She made him feel truly glad to be alive.

  He reached for the dark glasses shielding her eyes. Removing them, he tossed them aside. “What have you done to me?”

  “I beg your pardon?” Marina asked uncertainly.

  “You have made me a criminal—no worse than that, you have made me glad to be a criminal.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said slowly, staring at him, wondering if he was serious.

  “I am not.”

  She smiled, then focused her attention on the apple tree behind him. The limbs were heavy and the ground beneath it was littered with ripe fallen fruit.

  Crawling around him on all fours, she gathered a handful of the shiny red apples and sat cross-legged to wipe one on her sleeve before taking a large bite.

  “There’s so much of it,” she said, staring at the wall of trees around them. “And it’s all so delicious.”

  “All part of the government’s plan to keep us happy,” Sammell said with a sneer in his voice. “Remember, this is supposed to be paradise.”

  Marina wiped the juice off her chin with the back of one hand, savoring the sweet taste of the fruit. About to take another bite, she glanced up into Sammell’s eyes.

  “Oh, sorry, here.” Apparently forgetting he didn’t eat, she offered him one of the apples.

  Sammell stared at the fruit for a long time. Then he shook his head and glanced away. He’d forgotten to take his nutrient injection both last night and this morning, but he didn’t want to eat any of what she offered him because sometimes—most times—the first few bites made him ill.

  Marina shrugged and took another healthy bite, feeling the juice drench her lips. She was about to lick it away when Sammell reached up and touched her lowe
r lip with his fingers.

  Her eyes jumped to his face. They looked at each other for a moment, his fingers quivering against her lip.

  Sammell’s glance began to waver and he started to withdraw. But Marina grabbed his hand, holding it still, her eyes locking with his as she bent and licked the sweetness from his fingertips.

  He didn’t dare take a breath. If he did, the tight control he barely maintained on his body would splinter and he was afraid of what might happen then. Filled with a multitude of riotous sensations caused by Marina or simply the thought of her, Sammell was a willing prisoner of his emotions.

  Aware of his rigidity, Marina dropped his hand, thinking she had offended him. Sometimes she forgot that the little instinctive things she did were outside his realm of understanding.

  “I’m sorry. I—”

  Sammell took one of her hands and lifted it to his lips. Her eyes widened in shock as he caressed the soft pads of her fingers with the tip of his tongue.

  “What are you doing?” she asked a little breathlessly, withdrawing her hand.

  “I want to learn from you. We are friends, are we not?”

  “Yes,” she answered, swallowing dryly, “we are friends.” With her heart in her eyes, she offered him a bite of her apple.

  After only a moment’s hesitation, he leaned forward and sank his teeth into the fruit. Sitting back, watching her, he chewed slowly and swallowed.

  Marina took a bite, smiled and started to wipe her lips. But Sammell stopped her. On his knees at her side, he drew his fingers across her moist lips, then licked the sweetness from them.

  Marina chewed, feeling as though the apple expanded rather than diminished in her mouth. She swallowed and Sammell placed his hand over hers and held the apple to her lips.

  She looked up at him from beneath long dark eyelashes and he said, “Bite.”

  Marina bit and his head suddenly swooped to hers. She drew back instinctively, but he followed and she felt the moist tip of his tongue against her lips.

  “It tastes better this way,” he explained against her lips. When she didn’t respond, he drew back. “Is this not permitted?”

  “I—yes, it’s permitted,” she answered a bit unsteadily.

  Sammell again lifted the apple to her lips, watched as she took a bite and then took a bite himself. Marina stared at the top of his head, her heart pounding. And then his head curved toward hers.

  “We will both taste…what?”

  “Sweet,” Marina supplied, still in that unsteady tone of voice. “We will both taste the sweetness.”

  “Yes.” His lips brushed hers, a tantalizing invitation for more. “Sweet,” he murmured against them.

  The apple fell from Marina’s fingers and her hands moved to his shoulders. Sammell settled his mouth over hers in a tentative moist kiss. Marina responded by parting her lips in mute invitation, and a small sound of wonder came from his throat.

  And then he was pushing her away, staring at her with dark wary eyes. His insides felt on fire. That terrible yearning he’d felt two nights ago, when he had watched her through the protective shield without her knowledge, was tearing him apart.

  Marina saw the confusion on his face—and something else. The dark eyes were filled with a raw need that he was trying his best to hide. She opened her arms and he came into them. Drawing him forward, she lay back against the grass. His chest pressed against her breasts and she drew him closer.

  All the air expelled from Sammell’s lungs in one wild gasp as he felt every inch of her body pressed to his. And then, as though her touch had triggered a primitive response beyond his control, his fingers tangled in her hair, his hips ground against hers and his mouth took hers in a savage hungry caress.

  All at once the air was filled with a shrill whistle. Sammell stiffened and jerked away.

  “What is it?” Marina asked anxiously.

  “A warning signal.”

  Chapter 10

  “Warning signal? What kind of warning signal?” Marina asked.

  “It is time to leave the gardens,” Sammell hedged. “Come, we must go.”

  He climbed quickly to his feet and offered her a hand. But something in his attitude alarmed her. This was no simple warning to leave the gardens—it was something far more serious and she knew it.

  Marina pulled on his hand and dug her heels into the ground. “I don’t believe you. They’re looking for us, aren’t they?”

  He started to deny it, then nodded instead. “I believe so. That was a signal telling the police to switch to a certain channel on their communicators where they will be given details about the criminal, or criminals, at large.”

  “Us. They’re looking for us.”

  Sammell didn’t deny her words. His instincts told him she was right. They were being sought by the police. And he had a hunch the police had exact descriptions of both of them right down to the color of Marina’s turban.

  “What are we going to do?” She was trying very hard to keep the panic out of her voice.

  “The only thing we can do—run.”

  They ran, but it was useless. They could hear voices in the trees around them. The police were closing in. There was nowhere to run. They didn’t have a chance.

  “Oh, Sam, what are we going to do?”

  “Here!” A voice seemed to rise from the ground almost at their feet.

  Marina took a sudden step back, her eyes on the square of grass slowly rising in the air. The top of a blond head became visible in the aperture, and then two eyes peered at them out of the darkness.

  A pale hand moved into view and fluttered toward them, motioning for them to hurry. Marina took a hesitant step forward then halted, reaching for Sammell.

  Sammell encouraged her to move forward and they both peered down into the face of a man standing on a ladder beneath the earth’s surface.

  “Hurry!” the stranger motioned. “We have only seconds before the first squad of police arrive.”

  Sammell helped the man assist Marina onto the ladder, and he was only one step behind as Marina backed down the slippery steps with fear like a live thing gnawing at her insides. Who was this man with his hands at her waist, pulling her down into a darkness so complete it almost smothered her?

  “Close the top carefully,” the man’s voice rose from the darkness. “If the police find the opening, we are finished.”

  Sammell did as instructed, and an instant later a light flashed on below. He stared down at three faces—Marina, Darryn and Gissel.

  “Where did you come from? And how did you know we were here—being sought by the police?” Sammell asked quickly, making his way to them.

  “We have been monitoring police calls for months,” Gissel answered, taking the lead as they moved away from the ladder and deeper into the tunnel.

  “Do you know who alerted the police about our presence in the gardens?” Sammell asked.

  “Larkin.” Again it was Gissel who did the talking. “I warned you that he was not your friend.”

  “You warned me,” Sammell repeated slowly, his face a study in confusion. “The showers! That was you in the showers?”

  “Yes. Now we must hurry. They want this woman very badly.”

  “Me?” Marina asked abruptly. “How do they know about me?”

  Sammell stepped closer to Marina. “This is Gissel and Darryn. They are members of the team working on project Deliverance. And this—” he touched her lightly on the shoulder “—is Marina.”

  “Yes, we know,” Gissel said shortly. “Bartell has been watching you for some time—just as we have. He knows you have made greater advances on project Deliverance than you have acknowledged. And when Larkin told him about this woman—”

  “Larkin told him!” Sammell interrupted.

  “Yes,” Gissel answered. “He communicated with him from the gardens. Larkin has been trying to establish a personal relationship with you for some time on Bartell’s instructions so that he could find out how far you had really p
rogressed with the matter transfer device.

  “We, too, wanted to contact you, but did not think you were ready.”

  “Larkin was working for Bartell,” Sammell said. “Who are you working for?”

  The path was becoming steeper. The walls were damp with moisture, and the passage narrowed as they moved in single file with Gissel in the lead, Marina next and Sammell behind her, while Darryn brought up the rear.

  “We work for no one,” Gissel said tersely. “We fight for our people so that one day they will call no man master.”

  “Fight?” Sammell asked quickly.

  “Yes, there is fighting in the mountains behind Government House. It has been so for many months.”

  “There is no fighting,” Sammell protested. “We are at peace. We have been at peace for nearly four hundred years.”

  “The fighting only stopped for fewer than twenty years after the Wyndom regime came into power,” Gissel said on a note of contempt. “Not long after his takeover it soon became evident to those of the world who had not been infected with his drug that their neighbors were acting peculiar. Within a year the drug was found in the water, and steps were taken to remove it.”

  All of this was news to Sammell. He had deluded himself into thinking the world needed him to save it, and all the time others had been busy working to save it without his help.

  “So,” he said thoughtfully, “we are at war. Who is winning?”

  “They are.” Darryn spoke for the first time.

  “But how can that be?” Sammell asked. “Surely the people are on your side.”

  “Weapons,” Gissel responded. “We have very few weapons. And despite centuries of resistance, we have made little progress against the government armies.”

  “Armies?” Sammell asked. “It is hard to believe this talk of war and armies. Where is the evidence?”

  “The storage unit vaporized last night,” Gissel said. “That is evidence, is it not?”

  “What do you want from me?” Sammell asked abruptly.

  “As I said earlier, we have been watching you for a long time. We know about your nocturnal trips. We know you discovered the drug on your own at a very early age, that you removed it from your own injections and that you have been experimenting with food.”