by Tia LaBeau
“Can you tell me what this is about?” I shout.
She comes from behind the seat. “Sheesh, whoa kemosabe, I don’t like your tone. What’s what? About? Oh,” she says as she notices the news feed on the wall. I had the sound down, so she didn’t know I had the feed on until she saw it. I like to read what it says most of the time, without hearing their talking heads. I follow the ticker news that goes across the screen.
The murderess fugitive backs away from me with her hands raised. “Okay, calm down. Now listen. I can explain.”
“What is there to explain? You lied to me. You married me under false pretenses.”
“I am sorry, but there is a reason for this.”
“What reason could there be that you would steal my credits and my heart?”
I remember the terms of the contract. I can break it, but I must get in touch with Olivinia Evawa. I can’t believe that she would have married me to this woman, knowing that this woman is a fugitive. How could Olivinia Evawa have missed it? I’m sure she gets Cerean news notifications.
“Does Olivinia Evawa know that you are really this woman?”
“No,” Juno or Cleo or whoever she is says. She shakes her head. “No, no, I lied to Olivinia.” She’s got her hands raised out in front of her as if she’s trying to stop me from going somewhere.
I go nowhere. This is my mobil.
“How did you pass yourself off as this person Juno Vivey?” I ask
“Fake identification, of course. Duh!”
“Duh?”
“Duh!”
“What does that mean exactly?”
“Never mind. Please, give me a chance. You got your wife. I’m still your wife,” she says. “No real harm done.”
“Are you kidding me?” I ask, shouting. “You’re wanted for murder.”
“Yes, but I have new identification, see.” She whips out a small pocketbook. “See, here is my identification card, and if you scan my chip, you’ll find that I am every bit Juno Vivey as is necessary.”
“But you’re a murderer.”
“No, I am not.”
“Of course you will say that,” I say turning away from her. I turn right back as I’d rather be able to see the blow coming if there is one coming my way. One can never be too careful around fugitive murderesses. “How do I know that you will not kill me in my sleep and take all my credits? You are my legal wife now, so I owe fifty percent of my goods to you according to Teros law, unless I have this marriage annulled, which I can do. All I need to do is contact Olivinia Evawa.”
I move towards the communicator in my pocket. Juno, Cleo, murderess, fugitive, shit, whoever she is, rushes to me. She places her hands on my arms. I have to admit that it feels nice the way she grips them. “No,” I say brushing her hands away, I must not be distracted by her irresistibility.
“Please do not contact Olivinia. Please let me stay here with you,” she says, her eyes pleading.
“But if I keep you with me, and you are caught after the six-month period, I will lose my one million credits for nothing. It will set my plan back quite a bit.”
“What plan?” she asks, furrowing her brow.
“My plan to have a happy life,” I say, quickly recovering.
“Please, I’ll do anything you ask of me. Just let me stay with you. I will do whatever you say. I will be your slave.”
“I do not wish to have a slave. I wish to have a wife. Someone who is genuinely interested in being with me, not using me to hide from security.”
“Look, let’s start over. Let’s pretend that I’m not wanted for murder and that I didn’t lie about my identity. Would you be interested in getting to know me? This me, Juno Vivey, formerly known as Cleo Chou, not a fugitive, not a murderess.” She poses with her hands on her hips. One stuck out towards me. She flicks her beautiful hair and bats her gorgeous eyes.
“I suppose so,” I say dropping my eyes to the floor. Cleo Chou grabs me by the chin and lifts my head up. She stares into my eyes. Her soft hands feel good on my face.
“Why?”
I remove her hand. “Well, I suppose it’s because you are beautiful.”
“Okay, that’s really all you have to go on, so I’ll take it. Although, I’d say that my beauty is up for debate. You should see my sister.”
“You have a sister. Why did you not bring her? We could have entered into a polyamorous marriage.”
“Oh, no buddy, not that type of party, okay. Eww, gross.” She shakes as if she’s just eaten another flippiant.
“And there is a wildness in your eyes that I like,” I say not being able to stop myself from saying out loud what I like about her.
“Wildness, huh? Try paranoia.”
“I understand that the wild look in your eye is not one born of curiosity, but rather it is the look of a murderess and a fugitive.”
“Look here buddy, I’m no murderess. If we get to know each other better, and I find that I can trust you, I’ll tell you the entire story of what got me into this all this trouble in the first place, okay? But you don’t have to keep calling me a murderess, and you don’t have to worry about me killing you in your sleep, okay?”
“How do I know I can trust you? The first time we meet is based on lies.”
Inside I’m feeling like a hypocrite. Why am I so angry? Is it because I’ve been tricked instead. Was I actually considering the possibility that things might work out all the way to my benefit, I would get my asteroid and a beautiful bride who I didn’t have to go through the trouble of dating or courting?
I feel guilty, but I cannot tell her the truth. I also cannot stop myself from guilting her for some reason. “Let me think on it,” I say. “But it is doubtful that you will be staying with me. I do not approve of murder.”
“Are you stupid? I told you that I didn’t murder anybody.”
“I am not stupid. Are you stupid to think that you’ll be able to get away? That face of yours is striking, you know. Everyone will remember that they have seen it. They are looking for you everywhere.”
“Who you calling stupid?” she says, pushing up into my face. She pokes me in the chest. “Ow,” she says.
“Sorry, my chest is very hard.”
“I’ll say.”
“Do not change the subject.”
She starts to demure. I did not expect to be in a place of power so soon.
“Please, please consider allowing me to stay.”
“As I’ve said, I will think on it, but do not be surprised if I call you in myself. There is a reward. It is up to fifty thousand credits.”
“Fifty-thousand credits, huh?”
“What if I told you that I could pay you more than that, to keep me?”
“I wouldn’t dare think of harboring you for credits,” I declare.
“Others do worse for credits.”
“I am not others.”
I move to the front of the mobil and start it up so that I can return to work, but as I drive on, I wonder if I can trust her to remain here in the mobil until I get back. What if she steals my mobil? Then I’ll be short one human wife, plus I’ll be without my mobil.
I’ll have to wait two weeks before I can prove that she took off with my mobil for a period longer than her requisite two-week vacation. But if I do not show up to work, I may be fired.
I realize that if I keep her, I will be able to procure my mine right away, but I’ll surely lose it if someone finds out that Juno Vivey is really the murderess Cleo Chou.
“I didn’t murder anybody,” she yells at me from the back of the mobil as if she can read my mind because I was only thinking, not saying anything aloud.
I decide to test the murderess. The only way I’ll know that I can trust her is if I give her a chance. So I tell the supposed ‘not murderess’ to buckle herself in. There’s a crash seat in the back of the mobil. She also has the option of sitting up front with me, but I don’t suggest it. I want to be strong for the journey ahead. If I get too much of a good look at
her face or her body, I will surely crack.
“Buckled in!” she yells from the back of the mobil.
I shoot off to Clint. When I reach the docking area, I park my mobil and stalk back to the back where she sits. “Okay, listen. I have to go back to work. If you are here when I get back, meaning you haven’t stolen my mobil, I will consider keeping you on with me for a while, perhaps for a trial period. Although the clock is ticking every second on your life.”
“Thank you for reminding me,” she says with a smirk.
“Do we have an agreement?”
She puts out her hand. “Let’s shake on it.
I stare at her hand.
“What? Don't you know what a handshake is? How long have you been in Teros?” she asks.
“I know what a handshake is,” I say. “It’s only that I do not wish to exchange one with one you, since you are a known liar, murderess, and fugitive. Because it means nothing to shake a criminal’s hand. They’d just as soon bite it off.” The murderess blows out a loud breath. I can tell that she is exasperated. As I look into her eyes, I find it hard to imagine that she has committed murder.
I don’t pretend to know how to read most beings, especially humans so I will pause that line of thinking for now.
“I will be back,” I say. I leave the mobil then.
I dare not beg her to stay. She will prove her mettle. I extend the bridge, enter the tunnel, leaving my fate in her hands. It is not an easy thing to do.
I work the lines as fast as I can. I’m grateful that I dot not have to confront the foreman Wix. He knows I’m on the line, but he hasn’t buzzed me. What’s he going to say to me? Perhaps he will ask me how my balls are? The thought tickles me, especially when I imagine myself saying that they are now in perfect health. Which is not true, they are full, aching thanks to the murderess, fugitive.
I don’t think I’ve worked a line so fast before. I’ve been keeping an eye on my watch. The watch is connected to the security system on my mobil, and it keeps me aware of my mobil’s location at all times. I can see that my mobil has not left the dock. That doesn’t mean that the murderess is still there waiting for me, though. She might have slipped out already. Although she’d be somewhere around here because without a suit, she could not survive out there. If she’s a digger, which I suppose a murderess fugitive would be, she will find my other spacesuit inside of the mobil. I wonder what I would feel if I were to go back to my mobil and find that she’s not there. I suppose I’d be disappointed.
I go into the changing room in the station, change out of my mining suit and back into my underthings. I slip my feet into a pair of sandals I purchased from some human market booth some time ago. I must say, these sandals are quite comfortable.
I make my way back to the mobil, not knowing what to expect. The curtains on the windows at the back of the mobil are closed, so I can’t tell whether she’s in there or not. I enter the mobil. My heart pounds.
“How was work?” the murderess asks me. She is sitting on a stool with her legs open and her hair hanging over her face.
“What have you been doing? You look as if you’ve been in a fight.”
“I’ve been doing pushups, jumping jacks, burpees, squats. You know stuff like that,” she says. “Gotta stay in shape.”
“So you’re here, you did not leave.”
“I told you, you can trust me.”
“That is only one test. If you are truly interested in being my wife and giving it a good try, would you be willing to give me some further insurance?”
“What sort of insurance?” she asks.
I’m startled by my own quick thinking.
“Would you be willing to consummate our marriage?”
Her face goes slack. “You mean like the two of us, me and you, have sex?”
“That is what married persons do.”
“Well, technically we’re not married.”
“If we’re not married, then I don’t see why you should stay. I have plans for my life, and they do not include being the getaway driver for a fugitive.”
“Oh yeah, here we go with the plans. Like what kind of plans? System domination?”
“I will tell you more,” I say. “When I am sure I can trust you.”
“And you won’t be sure if you can trust me unless we consummate the marriage? Now?”
“Yes, that is correct.”
She releases laughter uproariously. I fold my arms.
“Aww, come on, don’t be like that. So you want to have sex with me?” she asks. She stands up and puts her hand on her hip.
“I wouldn’t mind it,” I say.
“You find me attractive?”
“You are acceptable for a human.”
“Hah, acceptable.”
“What do you think of me?”
“You are acceptable for a Sewvian, I guess.” She sweeps her toes across the floor.
“Well?”
“Well?” she asks. “Are we going to stay docked here all night?”
“I suppose we can go to the residency mobil park,” I say.
“And then what?”
“And then have sex.”
She frowns. “I don’t know you too well. What if you have a venereal disease?” Her eyelids lower. “I hear that you’ve got some pretty nasty diseases of that type on Sewvi.”
“I hear that you humans have the same. Little bugs crawling around on your bushes.”
“Hey, eww, cut it out, okay. I don’t have any diseases,” she says. “At worst my bush probably has cobwebs on it.”
“Cobwebs?”
“Because I haven’t had sex in a very long time.”
“Oh, I say. When was the last time?”
“None of your beeswax,” she says. “When was your last time?”
“Right before I left Sewvi,” I say. I’d been so preoccupied with my plans that I hadn’t even bothered to find someone to have sex with since I arrived in Teros. I’ve only had sex with myself since I’ve been here.
“Hmm, well,” she says stepping towards me. “You aren’t so bad looking, and it has been a while. Looks like your packing.”
“Do not tease me.”
“I don’t tease.”
I step towards her and put my hands on her hips to see what she will do. She remains still. I pull her towards me and tip her chin up. I kiss her as I’ve wanted to do again since that first time in the Moon Company hall of ceremonies.
Her lips are so soft. A sound escapes her. Is it pleasure? I remove my mouth and peer into her eyes. They are sleepy.
“What?” she asks.
“I’m checking to see if you are enjoying it.”
“Can’t you tell?”
I go back in for more kissing. I’m surprised when I feel something wet on my lips. It is her tongue. She is licking me. I relax my mouth, and she slips her tongue into my mouth and tickles my tongue with hers. It sends shivers from my shoulders, down into my stomach, then into my groin. I cannot control my erection.
I feel her grin against my teeth. I pull away. “I suppose I should drive us to the mobil park, for more privacy.”
She leans into me. “Are you sure about that, big fella?”
“No,” I say.
“Is there a place we can lie down?”
There is. It is stuck in the wall. I press the button that releases the bed. It isn’t too large, but it is what the humans call a full size. A bigger size would do me proper. My feet hang off of it a bit when I’m lying down, but that’s okay.
I pick the murderess up off of the floor and sit her down on the bed. Then I climb up on the bed with her. She grabs my face and pulls me in for more kissing, and I oblige her. She tastes so good.
She pulls away. “You’re pretty,” she says.
“Pretty?”
“Beautiful, I mean handsome.”
“Thank you,” I say. “You are beautiful too.”
“Lie back,” she says.
I lie back, and she straddles me. I run m
y hands up her torso until my hands arrive at her breasts. I squeeze them, and once I squeeze them, I decide that I need to touch them, so I lift her shirt up over her head. She helps me and tosses her shirt to the floor. She’s wearing one of those contraptions the human females use to imprison their breasts.
“Here,” she says. She reaches back and does something causing the contraption to hang about her shoulders. I pull the contraption off of her.
I almost gasp at how beautiful her breasts are. She has dark chocolate nipples that look delicious enough to eat. These nipples are quite perky and hard. I fiddle them with my fingers, and then I leverage myself upward so that I may suckle at her breasts.
She moans. She tastes so sweet. Her body is so warm against my hands and mouth. As I suckle her, my eyes are closed, but I open them so that I may admire her body. She pushes me back down on the bed and leans over me.
She kisses down my neck very softly. I feel her tongue slide along my skin. Then I feel teeth.
I’m hard as palladium now, and I know that she can feel me. I wonder how moist she gets, but I feel as if I ought to wait before I get to that.
She runs her hands down my chest, kisses it, then runs her tongue from the middle of my chest down to my stomach.
“You have a belly button,” she says.
I say nothing. I’d like her to move a bit lower, even if it's just with her hand. I grin. “Why don’t you see what else is down there?”
“Oh, I see it,” she says. She squeezes my hardness. “Wow.”
“What?” I look down. “Is it too small?” I thought surely that no human male would be competition for me when it comes to my size. I wonder if she has had bigger. I suppose that if she has, it’s okay. It’s not only the size of one’s member that matters.
She rubs her hand up and down my length. Then she climbs on top of me. She whispers in my ear. “I want you inside me,” she says.
“Are you sure?”
“Do you have protection?”
“No,” I say.
“I do,” she says. She climbs off the bed. She disappears for a while, then suddenly she pops back up again. “Good thing I grabbed an extendable,” she says with a wink.
