by Darrell Bain
Bascombe took control of the conversation again. “Let's try to wind this up for now. We're agreed that for the time being we will say nothing of the fact that this Altairian alien apparently lied about a dust cloud destroying it's solar system, and we agree to Rob Passing placing his agents on the spacecraft in the hope that they can subvert Da Cruz or some of his family. Both these stratagems are problematical, but there is one more possibility. My chief engineer tells me that from what he's seen and been given access to through satellite relay that we may can duplicate the FTL technology."
“Are you serious?” Selene asked, a sudden vision of a fleet of craft ferrying their population to new worlds, or being able to exploit the asteroid belt to sustain their culture in the solar system.
“There's a catch,” Bascombe warned. “They can duplicate everything, even the main computer, but control of that computer's specs is another matter. The Houston people have kept tight wraps on that."
Passing straightened out his tall body, tired of sitting. “Leave that to Della Worley. She's a computer expert, and what she can't do with sex hasn't been done. Once Da Cruz gets involved with her, she'll pick his brain like a robot cracking rocks for water."
Passing may have had some room for optimism. Della Worley was bright, young, and sexually lush. He had used her once before with good results, even though he had had to lean rather heavily on her to do it, using a youthful indiscretion as leverage. But he had never met Jamie, and he had already conveniently forgotten how miserably the last agent he had placed such confidence in, one Cadena of earth, had failed him.
* * *
CHAPTER FOUR
Jamie was feeling a mixture of nostalgia, excitement, and just an unavoidable little tinge of worry on this, the last evening before being ferried by floater to the East Coast spaceport located in the Florida Enclave. Part of his worry was because of Whitmire's ruling that one of the three members of this family must ride separately from the others in case of accident, but he couldn't really complain since it was Jeannie who had programmed the main computer to their three voices alone, but he still didn't like it. It made him just as apprehensive as he always felt when Kristi was out a ranger patrol. He wasn't the type to ever try to compel Kristi to stick closer to home. He knew her restless nature demanded action and probably always would. Unless.. Will she ever want to get pregnant? Raise a family? The unexpected thought startled him. Kristi had never so much as hinted at such a desire. Maybe it's just the thought of never coming back; a desire below the level of reason to leave his genes behind. How many soldiers in the old days left pregnant wives behind? Jamie didn't know. The ever-growing pet plague on earth had effectively eliminated internecine warfare, that is until the clash six months ago with the mercenaries from Moon City. That was all the war Jamie ever wanted to see. He still had occasional nightmares of Kristi falling with a gaping hole in her side, himself wounded, his pets scattered, and Craig Randall apparently triumphant, with himself the prize captive. Only his little personal lasergun concealed in a boot holster had enabled him to save himself, Jeannie and Kristi, and Kristi had survived by only the barest of margins.
Fifteen pounds cat of landed in his lap from a standing jump.
“Oof! Fuzz, don't do that!"
Fuzzy Britches ignored the admonition. He circled in Jamie's lap, then pushed his head against Jamie's hand, demanding an ear rub. He complied, watching Kristi sitting cross-legged on the carpet across the room, still sorting personal gear. Jamie and Jeannie had had little packing to do. They still retained the outfits they had been supplied with on their one excursion into the wilds, and needed to add little else. They sat together on the large lounger, waiting on Kristi to finish.
She looked up when Fuzzy Britches made his move and drew the exclamation from Jamie. “Are you all packed, Fuzz?"
“No mice to pack,” Fuzzy Britches said, drawing a laughs from the three humans. The cat looked offended then closed his eyes. Even enhanced cats had little sense of humor and he wondered what the laugh was about.
Woggly raised his head from his paws. “Mice no good. Rabbits better.” Woggly wasn't quite as bright as the cat, but he knew what was good to eat. Since catching a rabbit or two on the expedition, his doggy dreams included them sometimes. He salivated at the thought, thinking that maybe there would be rabbits in space, where ever that was. Princess and Lady, the brown Persian and mostly white German Shepherd belonging to Kristi, as usual, contributed little to the conversation for all that they could talk when they wanted to. Jamie often wondered, but had never asked, why Kristi had picked such trite names for her pets. His own parents and grandparents had always loved pets, even after the enhanced ones caused such devastation on earth, and they used literary references to name them. Jamie assumed that “Fuzzy Britches” and “Woggly” were derived from an old book, but since his parents’ death, he had no real way of knowing. He had simply carried on an old tradition of naming the favorite family cat and dog Fuzzy Britches and Woggly.
“You two better not set your sights too high,” Jamie said. “You may not see anything at all to catch."
“Kristi will find some,” Fuzzy Britches opened his eyes to say.
“He has an abiding faith in me, doesn't he?” Kristi said. “There. I think I'm finished. Who wants a drink?"
“Drink? You mean like ethanol?” Jeannie asked, hoping it was true, but not really believing it. Liquor had become a rare commodity in the Enclaves in recent years; there was little grain to spare for the fermenting.
“Blackberry and peach brandy, three bottles of it, if you don't care that it's fifty years old."
Jamie stood up, dumping Fuzzy Britches from his lap and onto the back of Conan lying at his feet. “Who cares how old it is? Lead me to it. Where in hell did you come across something like that?"
“We found an isolated old liquor store on that last patrol, all overgrown with brush. This was my share. I saved it just for a special occasion and I think this is it.” She winked in Jeannie's direction, then turned to accept Jamie's hug and pat on her behind. The pat turned into a caress, easily felt through her thin robe.
She took his hand and led him into the autokitchen, large by Enclave standards, and reached far back into a little-used cabinet. The bottles were still dusty, but appeared intact and well sealed. It should be good.
Jamie took out three glasses, added ice and let Kristi pour. She filled each six-ounce glass half full with the dark thick beverage. He looked inquiringly at what seemed him to be a paltry amount.
“That's plenty to start. I know, I've had it once before. It will sneak up on you."
While they were making the drinks, Jeannie had spoken to her body computer and caused a small section of the carpeted floor to raise up a foot or so, and the warp to flatten into a smooth surface. She arranged several of Kristi's deer hide-covered floor pillows around the newly formed platform, knowing that Kristi liked to lounge stretched out, being used to it from patrols.
“Mmm. That's good,” Jeannie said, draining half her glass.
“Take it easy, sweet, or Jamie and I will leave you sprawled out here on the floor when we activate the bedroom."
“Fuzz will take care of me, won't you Fuzz?"
“Lick your nipples? Woggly lick your feet? Humans strange. Always breeding, but never any kittens. When willyou have kittens?"
“Babies, Fuzz. Not kittens. Babies. Little humans.” Jamie corrected, avoiding eye contact with either of the women. How did this conversation get started?
“He's just bragging,” Kristi said. “Princess is pregnant."
“She is? Oh, that's wonderful,” Jeannie exclaimed, “but how did you get a permit?"
“I got John to arrange it after I found out we were going to get to go into space. The timing was just right. Princess came into heat a few days ago. Old Fuzz, here, took care of the job while you were working."
Jeannie looked dewy eyed. “That's so grand. Won't it be fun to have some kittens around the house? Oh—we
're going to be on the spaceship. I keep forgetting. It doesn't seem real yet."
Princess, hearing her name mentioned had come over to be petted, Kristi stroked her long silky hair, thinking it would be nice to have a litter of kittens to entertain her on what (she thought) would be long periods of boredom on the spaceship. The pet population within the Enclave was rigidly controlled, being maintained at just the level needed to control the rodents, and other occasional feral animal, which, for all the precautions, still entered the Enclave occasionally. These pets were generally assigned to residents living near the barricades, and rarely, if ever, were Jamie's own pets called on to help with the job. Only Jamie and Kristi's position in the hierarchy of the Enclave enabled them to keep pets at all. Jeannie had never owned one, and was still enthralled by their presence in their household.
Jamie rose to refill glasses. Bringing them back, he asked,” does anyone want the Holo on?"
All five pets meowed and barked in unison, vying to let theirs be the voice that activated the Holo. It was impossible to say which won, but a swirling kaleidoscope of lights in depth formed against one wall. The cacophony of barks and meows continued as each tried to bring up their favorite program, confusing the poor home computer until one of them finally dominated. An ancient Tom and Jerry cartoon began unraveling, no longer two-dimensional but displayed in full holographic splendor. Fuzzy Britches’ ears twitched happily and the other animals quieted, resigned to waiting their turn to pick a program.
“That wasn't quite what I had in mind,” Jamie said. “Let's go to the bedroom and see if we can't do better.” At least the subject of babies had dissipated. He wasn't sure whether he was glad or sorry.
One corner of the bedroom was stacked with Jamie and Jeanie's already packed gear, with their coveralls and thermosmotic boots laid out for use the next day. Since their excursion into the wilds, both of them had become accustomed to the comfort of the soft, pliable boots, but they wore them sparingly. Like many other things, the material for making the boots was in very short supply, and reserved almost exclusively for the rangers. Once worn out, neither of them was likely to get replacements. Seeing his boots sitting there, the hand-devised holster attached to the right-footed one empty, Jamie suddenly realized what one part of the nagging worry he had been feeling was about. He pulled out a drawer from the wall and picked up his little personal lasergun. He looked at it fondly. Before becoming involved in the various adventures and change of habits involved by the crash of the alien landing craft on earth, he had used the little gun fairly often. As an agricultural genetic engineer, he frequently worked in experimental fields near the barricades, and had used the gun to kill encroaching rodents. It was also the same gun that had saved their lives once. He checked the charge and load then slipped it into the holster. At once, part of his worry dissipated. He knew intellectually that there was very little chance of the gun ever being so useful again, but he felt all the better knowing it would be handy.
Kristi didn't protest, even though a ruling had been made that only rangers would be allowed personal weapons on the spacecraft for fear of inexperienced hands damaging the craft. She had more reason than anyone to be glad that Jamie had carried it once before, and it was just possible that it might be useful again.
While Jamie was doing this, Jeannie had already told the homecomp to turn off the wide expanse of the usually opaque bathroom door, leaving the bedroom holowall visible.
Gurgling water sounded, filling the sybaritic sunken bath, a luxury only the highest ranking executives of the Enclave were entitled to. John Whitmire's penchant for Jamie's security had placed them in this security building apartment. It was luxurious, but Jamie still felt that he would be glad when he was out from under Whitmire's scrutiny for a change. He turned from securing the lasergun in its holster to see Kristi disappearing into the bath, stripping her robe off as she entered. Jamie followed, discarding the old pair of coveralls he would leave behind, and slid into the bath, where Kristi and Jeannie were already immersed. He wormed his way between them on the sunken steps, sinking in to his waist.
“Spoilsport,” Kristi laughed, smearing lather covered hands over his chest and into his hair. She had been soaping Jeannie's firm brown breasts.
“Don'tbe a hog. Leave at least one for me."
Jeannie opened her eyes, which had been closed under the slick soothing of Kristi's hands. “How many do you think I have, anyway?"
“Enough for both,” Jamie said, taking over where Kristi had left off. If there was any contention in the family, it was over which of them could arouse Jeannie the most and soonest. Jeannie never minded which one won, knowing that the other, or both, would soon enter into the game. She relaxed until Jamie was finished with her top, then helped him lather Kristi. Jamie was as fascinated as always with the way their bodies contrasted; Jeannie, small and brown with toast colored nipples, Kristi, tall and blonde, various parts of her body oddly tanned, the rest an alabaster hue, with large pink-nippled breasts, lush and virginal. He felt a surge in his groin, gathered them both around the waist, and plunged headfirst into the deeper part of the tub.
He came up sputtering, and was immediately dunked by a firm female hand on each shoulder. Another dunk, and he shouted, “Peace! I give up.” Water streamed from his hair, into his eyes and cascaded over his shoulders.
Kristi's strong arms surrounded him, threatening to dunk him again.
“Peace!” I said! Pax! I give up. Cease and desist! I'll never do it again!"
Kristi let him loose.
“Until next time!” He streaked to the edge of the bath and levitated up to sit on the edge.
Kristi gathered Jeannie by the waist and followed him out, laughing. They recovered glasses and retired to the bed.
“NP 22” Jamie said, calling up his favorite program.
A nymph and satyr materialized across the room and was joined by others soon after. The homecomp was able to generate an infinite variety of antics, none of them ever quite the same. If there was one thing the Enclave didn't lack, it was computing capacity.
While they cuddled and caressed, the program changed, and changed again. Presently Kristi called up another program, this one of a lone woman, reclining on a moss-covered stream bank while two half-grown kittens tumbled and romped back and forth over her bare breasts and belly and played with long streamers of loose brown hair.
Presently another woman appeared, and was joined by more kittens. They began making love, laughing at the hampering, helpful kittens that kept getting in the way, but by this time none of them were watching.
* * *
CHAPTER FIVE
Sometime during the night Jeannie woke up, feeling a soft, furry weight on her chest. While she was still feeling her way to awareness, a soft, raspy tongue, like the gentlest of furry files tickled a nipple, bringing her fully awake. Both of her breasts tingled and her nipples sprang erect. She curved an arm up around the springy fur of Fuzzy Britches, petting him gently as his tongue did amazing things to her body. The cat purred, knowing how much Jeannie liked his attentions, even though they still embarrassed her.
“Did you make a kitten?” He asked, using grammatically correct English for a change, then returned his attentions to her breasts.
“Shh,” Jeannie cautioned. “I don't know. And it's baby, not kitten."
The bedroom was almost totally dark, the cat on her chest only a vague presence. “Night-light,” she whispered, and the room brightened marginally.
“You need a kitten,” Fuzzy Britches said, voice low as purrs intermixed with the words. He licked some more. Jeannie felt a movement beside her. A slim feminine hand stole across her lower belly, resting there.
“I heard that,” Kristi's voice came in a whisper in the almost total darkness of the room. “Did you?"
Jeannie stifled a giggle. “I don't know. How aboutyour own self?"
Kristi brought her lips next to Jeannie's ear and said in the softest of whispers. “I already have."<
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“Oh!” Jeannie had to muffle her voice. There was time enough to tell Jamie that she was trying, having gained special permission from Whitmire, and that Kristi had already succeeded after they were into space. She knew that men became overly protective of pregnant women and that he might start making noises about the two of them staying home if he found out too soon. Protection was fine, but not yet.
Kristi's hand moved lower and Jeannie had to hold her breath in again. She moved into the other woman's arms while Fuzzy Britches disengaged himself. He had found out what he wanted to know and was content to leave them alone for the present.
Jeannie was fully awake now, and the knowledge that Kristi had conceived aroused her even more than Fuzzy Britches’ ministrations had. Her breasts rubbed, then flattened against Kristi's body. Kristi's lips covered her own. Her tongue slid into her mouth with a warm liquid wetness. Kristi's legs moved insistently against her, pressing her back. Urgently, she pulled Kristi over her, spreading her thighs to the weight of her body, shuddering at the sensation of bodies melding together, then surrendering utterly to the sensation of Kristi's roving lips and hands atop her, moving, moving lower and finally reaching her core. She bit her lips to keep from crying out and waking Jamie—who was listening and smiling in the dark.
* * * *
Whitmire's ubiquitous security men were waiting the next morning at the exit of the security building,as they always were whenever Jamie had reason to venture outside. The pets were almost hysterical, eager and anxious for the new adventure. There were two sleds waiting. Even though there would have been plenty of room for all of them on one, Jamie saw Whitmire's fine hand in the arrangement. Even in the Enclave, he was taking no chances. Jamie, Jeannie, and his pets would ride in one sled while Kristi and her pets would go in another. Captain Masters was already ensconced in the lead sled, which he would share with Kristi. His white hair was unmistakable, almost glowing as Jamie spotted it through one of the windows.
