In Heaven and Earth

by Amy Rae Durreson

  “It’s not meant to look like this,” Vairya said and pulled away from Reuben enough to trail his hand along the wall. “It should be how I remember it.”

  Reuben sat down on the hard bed, watching the subtle shift in the light as the wall transformed. “Give it time.”

  “I want to sleep now,” Vairya said forlornly.

  Reuben shuffled up the bed and stripped off his shirt. He rolled it up enough to make a rough pillow and held out his hand to Vairya. “Come here. It won’t be comfortable, but I’m warm, and we’ll find better accommodations tomorrow.”

  “I like my house,” Vairya grumbled. “I’ve been living here for decades.” He crawled onto the slab, though, curling up against Reuben and pressing his head against Reuben’s shoulder. Someone had found him more clothes, and the soft fabric of his shirt pressed comfortably against Reuben’s side.

  “I can have us transported up to the ship.”

  “No, stay here.” Vairya sighed, his body going lax. “I was planning to kiss you again.”

  “We’ve got time.”

  “Yes.” His hand slid over Reuben’s chest to rest over his heart. “Both alive. How strange is that?” He tensed suddenly, his eyes reopening. “What if it was just a dream? What if we wake and everything’s still dead?”

  “Then we will make it live again,” Reuben said and knew it to be true. Maybe it was exhaustion, maybe it was relief at surviving, maybe it was Vairya, but something had left him feeling utterly peaceful. “Sleep.”

  “‘Knits up…’” Vairya sighed vaguely, “‘…ravell’d sleave…’”

  “Sleep,” Reuben whispered again, smiling against the top of Vairya’s head, and then they were both drifting away.

  HE WOKE to a soft bed, flowering vines hanging over the window, and morning sunshine streaming through the plants to turn the whole room green.

  Vairya wasn’t there, and Reuben sat up, looking around for him. Someone had pulled a sheet up to his chin, and the bedroom door was open. Distantly, he could hear someone humming softly, and he relaxed back against the pillows, looking around.

  It was a large room, and had probably been light and airy before the plants grew over the window. The roof was high arched, with a slightly Gothic feel, and he grinned in amusement. Perhaps it had been no coincidence that Vairya built medieval gardens in his mind.

  The window was deep enough to have a cushion leaning against its side, and Reuben imagined Vairya sitting there, reading or perhaps just accessing the stories in his mind as he looked out at his city. It was a very serene place, but simple and plain enough that it made him think of scholar-monks in their cells, and he wondered what Vairya’s life here had been like, before the disaster. Did he have friends to share his flashing wit with or did he live apart from the world, with his memories and his gardens?

  “You’re awake,” Vairya himself said, coming in. He was carrying a couple of steaming cups. “I brought you tea. No promises that it will taste right, as I’m sure it was diamond last night.”

  “So was I, in places,” Reuben said and accepted the cup with a smile. Vairya was wearing another loose and flimsy robe, and he laughed, “Costume for a play, you claimed? I think you just like the style.”

  Vairya shrugged but blushed a little. “It’s comfortable, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t horrified when they told me I was going to have to act in something that looked like my nightwear.”

  “Poor shy thing, aren’t you?”

  “Stop mocking me and drink your tea,” Vairya said tartly and sat down on the bed beside Reuben, curling his legs up. “The garden has taken the whole city back, and everything is still growing.”

  “City net back up?”

  “Not here,” Vairya said and gave him a bemused smile. “The police have been driving through to check for structural problems, and they gave me an update. Most people are gathering back where we started things, but there are plans to get the main hospital open today and start setting up more local disaster centres in some of the schools.”

  “Back to normal, just like that.”

  Vairya drained his cup and put it on the bedside table before dropping his hand to Reuben’s bare belly. His fingers were still warm from the mug, and Reuben relaxed a little more. Vairya smiled at him again, and said, “It seems quite mad, doesn’t it, but life must go on.”

  “I still don’t understand what happened,” Reuben said, tasting his tea. It was a little sweeter and weaker than he liked, but nothing about it tasted too strange.

  “If you don’t, nobody does,” Vairya said, rubbing idle circles on Reuben’s belly, his smooth hand catching on the line of hair there with a soft tug.

  “I know what I did,” Reuben said. “I just don’t know why it worked. That tiny little vial of nanojuice in our blood shouldn’t have been enough to overwhelm a whole city’s worth.” Vairya’s touch was sending a trickle of pleasure through him, the sort that made him want to sink back against the pillows and purr.

  “I think it was a combination of factors,” Vairya said. “Firstly, their number was less than you might think. Once each transformation was complete, remember, the nanites would move on to change the next set of molecules they were in contact with. It was a leading edge, not exponential growth. Beyond that, the original command that was given to them back on Earth was not given to this generation. They must have replaced themselves over the centuries, which meant there could have been flaws in their command code. Finally, you told our nanites to grow, and then to heal, which meant they were replicating faster, and had a recent and open-ended command with which to overwrite the old code.” He paused, looking sheepish. “I mean, I’m not an expert, but I do have all the records of what happened the first time. We were lucky we didn’t end up replacing diamonds with grey sludge.”

  Reuben shuddered. “Scary things.”

  “‘With great power comes great responsibility,’” Vairya said, with the grin that said he was waiting for Reuben to recognise it.

  “Sorry,” Reuben said. “Some of us haven’t read everything. Yet.”

  Vairya laughed, a gurgle of delight that was so ridiculous it made Reuben’s mouth curl up as well. “I’ll forgive you, but only because you saved my city.”

  “You did as much. I couldn’t have brought the people back.” He was getting hard, his body waking to the touch of Vairya’s hand.

  “Don’t play it down,” Vairya said, sliding his hand down to stroke Reuben’s belly. “I wouldn’t have realised that I needed to remember. Your talents are being wasted, you know.”

  “In dealing with unpredictable medical situations with limited resources? Medical exploration is challenging enough for anyone.”

  Vairya paused, clearly thinking about it. “Fair point. I just thought it would be nice to see you doing something where you got more recognition.”

  “I’m recognised too often,” Reuben said and put his mug down in a hurry when Vairya started undoing his trousers.

  “I can understand that,” Vairya murmured. “Lift your hips.”

  “Anyone would think you had nefarious intentions,” Reuben drawled but did as he was told.

  “Well,” Vairya said brightly, “if you won’t seek glory, I should find a more private way to express my appreciation, shouldn’t I? The honour of the city demands it.”

  “Oh, well, if it’s for the honour of the city,” Reuben said and kicked his trousers and underwear off the rest of the way. Vairya was already pulling off his flimsy robe, and Reuben groaned in relief as his cock sprang out.

  “Well, then,” Vairya said, “what would be an appropriate tribute? We could erect a very nice monument.” He slid his hand down Reuben’s cock to cradle his balls. “Hang a medal around your neck? No, I think a pillar would be best. A nice thick pillar of hard stone.”

  “All of human history,” Reuben gasped, reaching out to pull him closer, getting his own hands onto Vairya’s thighs, “and that’s the best innuendo you can manage?”

  “You�
�re right,” Vairya said, working Reuben’s cock steadily. “Pillars are a terrible idea. People are always too tempted to climb up them and then slide down them, nice and slowly. You wouldn’t want me to do that, would you?”

  “What kind of memorials do you have round here?” Reuben demanded. “Oh, god, don’t stop!”

  “I wasn’t planning to,” Vairya said, shifting enough that Reuben could easily reach his cock too. “See, I even brought you a monument of my own to try out for size.”

  Reuben couldn’t help laughing, though it tangled with the rush of desire rolling through him to come out as a snort. “Stop that. It’s terrible.”

  “I thought you didn’t want me to stop?”

  Reuben groaned. “Vairya, for the love of everything sacred, stop making terrible puns, and kiss me.”

  “I can do that,” Vairya said—and did.

  It was as good as their first kisses, making Reuben’s whole body shiver, but it lacked the terrible desperation. Without that, everything was so much sweeter that Reuben didn’t think he could bear it, was afraid he would just dissolve into nothing and go floating off into space in a rush of dust and silver nanites.

  “I will never get bored of this,” Vairya murmured, trailing kisses up Reuben’s jaw. He was warm and heavy against Reuben, their bodies sliding together easily.

  Reuben opened his hand and tugged Vairya down close enough that he could get a grip on both their cocks at once. It felt ridiculously good, and he still didn’t have the faintest idea whether this was nanites, the bliss of being alive, or just Vairya, but he wasn’t going to object. Trying desperately to marshal his skidding thoughts, he managed to say, “Well, that’s a relief. I thought I was going to have to keep saving humanity to keep your attent… oh, fuck.”

  Vairya smiled against his throat, and then kissed his neck again, hand still playing behind Reuben’s balls.

  “Fuck me,” he murmured, rocking forwards against Reuben. “I want to feel it.”

  “Lube?” Reuben asked, shivering as Vairya nuzzled that sensitive spot on his neck again.

  Vairya rolled off him with a sigh, and leaned to rummage in the drawer beside the bed. It presented Reuben with the long line of his back, and he remembered seeing metal through torn skin and shuddered. To force the memory out before it killed his lust completely, he leaned forwards and kissed Vairya’s shoulder softly, and then the top of his spine, his hip, those places where new skin now covered what had once been exposed metal. He missed it a little, and wondered if they could restore Vairya’s old appearance, if Vairya would want him to. He could still feel the soft pulse of the pistons below the skin, and he let his mouth linger there, his body growing hotter.

  “It occurs to me,” Vairya said, a little hesitantly, “that this was probably diamond yesterday too. There may still be nanites in it.”

  “Damn,” Reuben groaned and squeezed Vairya’s thigh. “I really want to—”

  “It’s probably safe,” Vairya said hopefully. “The tea didn’t kill us, nor the sheets, and on reflection my arse didn’t exist yesterday, either, not in its current form.” He rolled over to frown down at Reuben. “That’s a really disconcerting thought.”

  “I’ll take the risk,” Reuben said, and because Vairya was too beautiful not to touch, ran his hands up Vairya’s thighs, green dappled from the light through the window, and sucked the top of Vairya’s cock. Vairya tasted real enough, like sweat and come and the faintest hint of metal.

  “You make a compelling argument,” Vairya said, his voice hitching. “Go ahead and deflower me.”

  Reuben pulled back, shuddering at the thought, and snatched the lube from Vairya. “Deflower is for virgins.”

  “Well, technically,” Vairya said, pressing close again, his arms around Reuben’s neck, “if this body is newly made, I am a virgin.”

  “You are not a virgin,” Reuben said firmly and kissed him before he could come out with any more nonsense. Vairya laughed against his mouth and then wriggled closer, his cock pressing against Reuben’s stomach. Reuben rolled them over, so he could press Vairya back against the pillows long enough to slick up his cock, and then slid down again to suck Vairya’s cock back into his mouth.

  “Oh, Sir Reuben—” Vairya gasped, with a hitched giggle “—what wicked things are you doing to my poor virgin dick? How debauched of— oh, yes!”

  Reuben let Vairya’s cock fall out of his mouth, although he left his fingers exactly where he had just pressed them, barely inside Vairya. “Do you ever shut up?”

  “Not when I’m happy, Sir Grumpy.” Vairya grinned and wriggled, pushing against Reuben’s fingers. “At least not until you fuck me so hard I’m just screaming.”

  “You are the worse virgin in history,” Reuben told him, pressing more kisses to Vairya’s thighs, his balls, his flushed cock.

  “I did— oh— tell you to deflower—”

  By the time Reuben did press into Vairya, he was caught between desire, delight, and irritation. They were both laughing and clumsy, their bodies sliding against each other as Reuben fucked into his merry garden knight, his breath coming fast, and joy shivering down his spine.

  Then Vairya flung his head back with a cry, his hands clamping onto Reuben’s shoulders, and suddenly they were both too breathless for laughter, every thrust and shudder pulling another noise from Vairya until Reuben was shivering at every bitten off gasp and soft groan, his whole body alive with it.

  When he came, it was with Vairya gasping in his ear and suddenly spurting against his belly, and then Vairya’s arms around him, clutching him so tightly that Reuben wasn’t sure which of them was shaking harder.

  Afterwards, lying in a sated drowsy tangle, Vairya said sleepily, “You’re very prejudiced against virgins, aren’t you? That’s a terrible flaw.”

  “I’ve been accused of worse,” Reuben pointed out.

  “Ah,” Vairya said, tapping him on the nose, “but those weren’t true. You shouldn’t be mean about virgins, Reuben. You were one once.”

  “You were not a virgin, and I don’t care.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I really don’t give a fuck about anyone’s sexual experience unless I’m sleeping with them, and even then I don’t care much, if it’s not relevant to the situation.”

  “Well,” Vairya began.

  “I’m sleeping with you. You are not a virgin. I don’t give a fuck about anyone else.”

  Vairya’s voice went fond. “And I was starting to worry you’d gone soft on me.”

  “Vairya. Shut up.”

  He got a warm kiss brushed against his cheek, and Vairya threw his arm loosely over his waist, pressing against his back. “Go back to sleep. We’ve got time now. The world isn’t about to end.”

  “‘If we had worlds enough and time,’” Reuben murmured, and sank back into a warm and pleasant doze as Vairya whispered the rest of the poem against his back, his lips soft against Reuben’s skin.

  Chapter Twelve

  IT WAS only a brief respite. The transformation of Caelestia had destroyed everything from infrastructure to food and clothing, and the new gardens springing up everywhere had created new problems. Everyone in the city had lost loved ones and the toll of grief and shock was beginning to rise.

  Everyone worked until they dropped, building, pruning, healing, cooking. After the first few accidents caused by careless commands to the still multiplying nanites, the surviving police force put together a makeshift alarm system, and Reuben found himself giving frantic lectures in how to avoid unintentional creation.

  By the third day, he was exhausted, overwhelmed, and newly terrified of the power of this technology. Even at the worst, though, he found himself looking up and seeing Vairya smiling wearily at his people, and that little sense of relief rose up around him again. They had done the right thing.

  By the fifth day, most people were back in their own homes, and had water and power. Repairs to the city net were almost complete, and the main focus of their e
fforts was clearing trees from the roads and turning the gleeful abundance of the city’s farms into a reliable food supply. The city authorities took over, and the crew of the Juniper finally got an evening off.

  Vairya was needed at the council meetings, so Reuben found himself with nothing to do with his free evening except to go back to his cabin on the Juniper to collect a change of clothes. It seemed absurdly small to him after a week under the arched ceilings of Vairya’s house, with its long kitchen and wide lounge, its shady veranda and tiled roof (“Gardener by choice,” Vairya had said when Reuben had commented on the luxury of it, “not abstaining from all luxuries.”). Next to that, his bare cabin seemed cramped and ugly, more like a cupboard than a home.

  Chanthavy knocked lightly on the open hatch. “Packing up?”

  “Just some clean clothes.”

  She looked at him thoughtfully. “If they don’t destroy us, if we are free to fly again, will you still be coming with us?”

  “It’s my job!” he said in surprise.

  “You have done good work in the city. I hear they gave you an office in the hospital.”

  He had been working there more and more. “Only so I had a place to keep my notes. Didn’t you get one?”

  “Just you. They would give you a job too, if you asked.” She smiled. “They might even put you in charge.”

  “I hadn’t thought of it.” He was thinking about it now, about staying in Vairya’s garden, the real, complex one that needed his help, thinking about staying with Vairya.

  “Really?” Her next look made him feel like he was being measured. “The rest of us moved back up here on the second day.”

  “I didn’t notice.” He hadn’t even considered that, not when he could simply sleep with Vairya.

  “I admit that I was troubled at first. He was your patient and under serious emotional strain. Nonetheless, I must consider that I could have been too hasty.” She smiled faintly. “To quote your favourite poet, ‘let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments.’”

  Reuben could only stare. Eventually, he managed, “I think that’s a little premature.”