Sam's World

by Ann Williams

  Her glance found Sammell. Is this what it was really all about? Was she willing to give up her dreams of a home and security for a gun? If he chose to fight, would he expect her to fight right alongside him?

  She’d told him she would do what she had to do in his situation. But could she really pull the trigger of a gun, knowing it would result in the death of another human being?

  And what about that family she wanted? In a world where babies were created in test tubes and incubated like eggs in a chicken house, where did that leave her?

  Sammell might not even be capable of making love. Remembering the way he’d pulled away from her in the gardens just as their kiss was beginning to grow into something more intense, she sighed heavily. And what about making her pregnant?

  She looked at him lying so pale and still beneath the covers and wondered what a child of theirs might be like. Red and blond hair together—what did that make…orange?

  Sammell said his mate would be chosen by a computer according to genetics and intelligence. Well, that left her out of the running. She wasn’t stupid, but she didn’t come anywhere near to being on the same IQ level as a man who could develop a time machine that really worked.

  He’d been defensive about his world, wanting her to love it as much as he loved it. Marina loved her own. Could she ever grow to love this one as much?

  There would be so many things she’d have to give up besides her family and friends. And what about her career? She was a teacher, and she’d always thought that after her babies reached a certain age she’d want to go back to teaching. But then again, in a brave new world teachers would be needed.

  Sammell stirred and Marina quieted him with a gentle hand against his cheek. He snuggled against it like a child seeking comfort, and a warmth spread through her.

  How could she not stay? Her own words came back to haunt her. She’d told Sammell that by the taking of her husband’s name she would be leaving her old life behind and creating a new one. Isn’t that what she would be doing here?

  Only here it would really be a new world. Their world, hers and Sammell’s, one they had truly helped forge with their own two hands.

  But what about what Sammell wanted? She was taking a lot for granted in thinking he’d want her to stay. All she’d heard from him since she’d arrived was his plan to send her back as soon as his machine was repaired.

  And what about love? Sammell didn’t know the first thing about love. Admittedly the thought of teaching him intrigued her. But it might not intrigue him. He’d shown a curiosity about it, but still…

  And what about children? She’d never heard him mention anything about them, except when she’d asked him. He would make a good father—she’d bet on it. But was she willing to bet the rest of her life?

  Husband, father, lover—these were all roles foreign to Sammell’s nature. She could teach him the rudiments of each role, but what about what was inside him? Was the instinct for each role there? Without it all her teaching would be wasted. Some things could be learned and some could not.

  Chapter 11

  “How is he?” Gissel asked as she pushed through the curtain.

  “I think he’s still in a lot of pain,” Marina answered, standing up and moving back to give the other woman access to the man on the bed.

  “Do you know if he has missed his nutrient injections in the past two days?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Gissel nodded. “I have brought something that will help him. He is not going to want to drink it, but he must. His system is not yet used to solid food. It will take time for him to adjust.”

  She eyed Marina speculatively before continuing. “I do not know how much you know about our society, but the government adds a drug to the nutrient injections they supply us with before we get them. It makes our people more amenable to their control. The chemicals are incompatible with food—deliberately so,” she added with an angry glint in her dark eyes.

  “But Sammell removed the drug—the Wyndom drug, he called it.”

  Gissel smiled, but it was a smile without humor. “The Wyndom drug,” she mused. “Yes, that is an appropriate name for it, named after the monster who created it. But that is not the drug I am speaking about. There is more than one drug in the injection. There is also one that removes the natural desire to mate.”

  Marina’s glance darted to Sammell’s pale face and she felt her cheeks grow warm.

  “They want us subservient to them in every way,” Gissel added. “Here.” She shoved a small wooden bowl and crudely shaped spoon at Marina. “Spoon this into him until it is all gone. Some of it might come back up, but no matter. He must take it all.”

  Marina accepted the bowl and spoon with a nod, then wondered what would happen if he were to be sick. She hadn’t seen any bathroom facilities. She wanted to ask where they were but hesitated doing it. The woman was brisk and not very friendly. Marina had a feeling Gissel resented her presence.

  The other woman was at the curtain preparing to leave when Marina screwed up her courage and asked, “If he becomes sick, where…”

  “There.” Gissel motioned with one hand toward the back of the small room. And then she was gone.

  Marina investigated the area and found a wooden bucket with a lid. She shrugged. It was better than nothing.

  Sammell had turned over onto his back when Marina moved to the side of the bed. Placing the bowl and spoon on the chair, she took a seat beside him and felt his forehead. It still felt cold and clammy. She hoped the stuff in the bowl Gissel had given her would help. As an adolescent she’d had her share of tummyaches, but none that had affected her like this. But then she hadn’t spent her entire life sticking needles into her arm instead of cramming food down her throat, either.

  Placing an arm beneath his head, she lifted his head and shoulders off the pillow. “Sam, can you hear me? I want you to drink this.” She held the spoon to his lips awkwardly, hoping he would cooperate so she wouldn’t have to force the spoon into his mouth.

  Sammell’s eyes fluttered open, then closed. Marina bit her lip, thinking she was going to have to force the liquid down his throat. What would she do if he choked?

  Suddenly his lips parted and she quickly tilted the spoon to them. With the first swallow he gagged, and Marina remembered the bucket with the lid sitting only a few feet away. And then he swallowed again and it looked as though everything was going to be all right.

  “What—” he muttered, turning his head aside.

  “Medicine,” Marina said. “Gissel brought it and said you had to drink it all.”

  “What medicine?” he asked weakly, keeping his head turned aside and his lips tightly closed.

  “I don’t know. She didn’t tell me its name. She said it would help—but you have to drink it all.”

  “No.” Sammell shook his head stubbornly. “Take it away.”

  Marina raised an eyebrow. He was acting like a baby. “I will not,” she said firmly. “Shame on you. You’re acting like a child. You will drink every drop of this willingly—whatever it is—or I’ll…I’ll hold your nose and force it down your throat.”

  Sammell turned his head slowly and looked up at her. “Is this how you treat people who are ill in your world?”

  Marina bit her lip. He was very sick and she was practically yelling at him.

  “I’m only concerned about you,” she said quickly. “You need the medicine in this bowl. Gissel seemed to understand what was wrong with you right away, so apparently they have treated this kind of thing before. How can you work if you are ill? And there is much work for you to do among your people. Please, if you won’t take it for me—think of your people.”

  Sammell studied her silently. And just when she thought it was a lost cause, he lifted his head and opened his mouth.

  Within the next half hour she managed to get all but a small amount of the liquid down him. She had no idea what was in it—it had no odor and she couldn’t bring herself to taste it—but whate
ver it was, it seemed to help. In what seemed like no time at all the lines of pain around Sammell’s mouth and eyes began to disappear and he began to look drowsy. But before he fell asleep, he murmured something in tones so low that she had to lean down to make out the words.

  “I took it for you…perhaps…there is not so much difference in your world and mine…after all….”

  Time passed. The cavern outside their room was silent. She had no idea if it was day or night. And it didn’t matter. There was a timeless quality about this place, and she found herself adjusting to it without difficulty. She was with Sammell, he was getting better and for the moment that was all that mattered.

  Her head drooped and her eyes closed. Sometime later she awoke and looked around the room in bewilderment. Where was she—oh, yes, the cavern. Her eyes darted to the bed and she heaved a sigh of relief. Sammell was sleeping peacefully.

  All at once she shivered and clasped her arms together, hugging her shoulders. The temperature above ground might be a constant seventy-two degrees, but it was at least ten degrees cooler down here.

  She could go into the main room and get a blanket. She’d seen a stack of them against the wall, but… Her eyes moved to the bed and the man lying on it. What she wouldn’t give to be able to lie down. But there was only one bed in the room, and Sammell occupied it. Come to think of it, Gissel and Darryn had placed them here knowing that. She lifted an eyebrow. How long, she wondered wryly, had Gissel and Darryn known about the other drugs in the nutrient injections?

  It seemed they might be fully aware of the benefits of combined body heat. Studying the bed, she realized there was plenty of room for two. And there was no place else for her to sleep—unless she wanted to stretch out on the floor.

  Ugh! She frowned in revulsion at the thought, staring at the hard stone floor at her feet. It would be nothing like sleeping on the floor of Sammell’s laboratory. There might be bugs and things down here. Rats?

  She glanced back at the bed. What would Sammell think if he were to awaken and find her lying beside him?

  Another shiver raced through her and Marina decided she was about to find out. Removing the towel binding her breasts, she slipped from the chair to the side of the bed and lay down on her side, snuggling against Sammell for warmth and pulling the blanket over both of them. She’d just managed to find the perfect spot for her head against Sammell’s shoulder when she floated from consciousness to sleep without even realizing it.

  Sometime later she cast aside the thick layers of sleep one at a time to feel a featherlike touch on her cheek. She lifted a hand and batted at it until it went away. A moment later it was back.

  Opening her eyes with a frown, she gazed into Sammell’s dark eyes. He was lying on his side facing her, and it was one of his fingers that had been tickling her cheek.

  Seeing that she was awake, he quickly removed his hand. But then he didn’t seem to know where to put it. There was very little space between them—so little, in fact, that Marina could feel the heat of his body all down her length.

  They studied each other silently. Marina noted the vulnerability in his eyes and wished there was something she could say that would make him feel more relaxed.

  Was he always going to feel the restrictions his society put on a man and a woman? Why couldn’t he forget them and go with his feelings? Maybe that was the problem. Maybe he didn’t feel anything for her, not like what she felt for him.

  There were so many things about him that attracted her, like the curve of his mouth, the gentleness in his eyes and the strength of his hands. She wanted very much to touch him, stroke his brow, feel the blond bristles on his cheeks and chin. She flushed at the thought and dropped her gaze.

  Sammell was trying to still the wild pounding of his own heart. When he’d awakened to find her lying so close, the heat from her body scorching him, a jolt of pain in his nether regions had taken his breath away. The feeling was new, but he was beginning to recognize it for what it was, the heavy ache of male desire. Since his first sight of her, he’d suffered the torment of her presence.

  And now he ached to know what it was that men and women did together—how they showed that they cared for each other. He wanted to know about this thing Marina had mentioned called love. But how did one begin?

  “I…” He swallowed, feeling inept. “I have this need…I do not understand…” He shook his head, his glance darting from her face to the wall above her head.

  Marina felt her pulse quicken. “Tell me about it—about this…need.”

  Sammell glanced at her. Her nearness affected him so completely. His heart pounded, it was difficult to breathe and his body acted curiously—as though it had a will of its own.

  “When I first saw you…I had never seen a creature like you…I touched you—”

  Marina felt her heart lurch. “You…touched me?”

  “Yes…there.” He indicated her breast.

  Picking up his hand, she placed it over her heart. “Like this?”

  Sammell swallowed and nodded because he couldn’t speak. A fire was growing in his loins and it was slowly burning him up. His insides were twisted in knots and a strange tingling began low in his body.

  “Is that all you did?” she asked softly, pressing his hand firmly against her.

  “Y-yes.”

  “Did you want to do more?”

  “No!” He looked shocked, and then his eyes darkened. “Yes,” he answered slowly.

  “What?”

  He opened his mouth, then shook his head mutely. He didn’t know what—only that it wasn’t enough to just look and touch her breast.

  Marina unfastened the front of her jumpsuit and slipped his hand inside against her breast. She felt him tense as his palm covered her distended nipple and a shiver of excitement raced through her.

  “I like having you touch me,” she whispered, her eyes closing.

  “You do?” he asked wonderingly.

  “Oh, yes!” she breathed, a liquid warmth spreading through her.

  “The kiss…would you…”

  Marina leaned forward and gently pressed her lips to his. “Is that what you want?”

  “Yes.” It was just like before—he felt the same electrifying sensations inside him at the touch of her lips.

  He wanted to feel her lips again. As though reading his thoughts, Marina put a finger to his chin and exerted a gentle pressure, separating his bottom lip from his top.

  “It’s even better like this,” she whispered, leaning against his chest to press her mouth over his.

  Sammell gasped at the feel of her tongue against his teeth and jerked back, his eyes wide with surprise.

  Thinking she had offended him, she drew back and apologized. “I’m sorry…I thought—”

  But Sammell didn’t give her the chance to finish what she was about to say. He propelled himself forward and fastened his mouth to hers. This time when their lips met, Sammell felt the kiss all the way to his toes. His hand tightened on her breast and his fingers began to knead it gently.

  It took a few minutes for him to get the hang of it, but Marina realized Sammell was going to be a great kisser. He put all of himself into it. His mouth clung to hers, tasting her, sipping her, drinking from her lips as though she were a fine wine and he’d reached the bottom of the glass and wanted to consume every last drop.

  But kissing wasn’t enough. Sammell’s body still burned with a heat that scorched his clothing. That terrible wonderful feeling he’d experienced for the first time a few nights ago was sweeping over him, changing the contours of his body, demanding something more than the meeting of lips.

  Acting purely on instinct, he glided closer, until the length of his body pressed completely against hers. Sammell removed his hand from her breast and slipped it beneath her shoulders, drawing her to him.

  Her breasts now jutted against his chest and ragged whimpers of sheer torture escaped his taut lips. And still it wasn’t enough. That raging fire started in his loin
s was consuming him a little at a time. It had reached his middle and his insides felt blistered by it, every system affected by this insistent need for release.

  Knowing he was reaching the point of no return, Marina slid her fingers across his shoulders to his chest toward the hot pulsing ache low in his body.

  Closing his eyes, Sammell caught his breath and waited, but her fingers stopped at his waist. And then he realized she was unfastening his coverall. In a moment his chest had been laid bare and Marina was pressing soft kisses against his collarbone and chest.

  Marina began to pull the jumpsuit down his body, and Sammell raised himself to his knees and helped her. But when they were below his waist, he grasped her hands and held them still.

  Marina looked up at him and saw the fear in his eyes.

  “Don’t be afraid,” she said gently.

  “I am not afraid.” He hesitated, unable to meet her eyes. “What if I am not like the men of your world?” he asked with difficulty. “What if I have been altered in some way?”

  “I don’t think you need worry about that,” she tried to reassure him. But she could see her words hadn’t helped. “Would you rather not…”

  “No!” he said quickly. “I want to…”

  “Then trust me,” she said, pressing her lips against his.

  Sammell leaned into the kiss, already adept at returning her kiss. When he drew back, his head was spinning and his heart hurt in his chest.

  “If it will make you feel better, I’ll take mine off, too.” Marina unfastened her jumpsuit and began to slide it down her shoulders. Sammell’s breath caught in the back of his throat as her breasts came into view.

  Two creamy white globes with pale mauve centers. He remembered the night of her arrival when he’d touched them and just now when she’d placed his hand over one, and he longed to touch them again.

  Marina could read the desire in his eyes. “It’s all right,” she whispered, taking his hands and placing them against her.