Blue Light of Home

by Robin Smith

  “So she’s a toady,” Skye said, still angry, but beginning to be confused also. “It’s a whole empire full of sycophants. Congratulations.”

  “Never! The women of Vaaj are strong and independent! She submits to show her gratitude to the men who protect her! She reflects his thoughts and his will to make him welcome when he comes home to her! I know it isn’t the same here,” he snarled, swinging around to glare at her. “That is why I don’t tell you what to think, what to do! I’m showing you respect!”

  “No, you’re ignoring me!” she insisted, but all the force had gone out of her voice. She watched him while he paced again, his hands snapping open and closed, and when he finally managed a modicum of quiet, she said, “You never talk? Never?”

  “They have their own society. We have ours. They take care of the cities and we take care of them.” He glared at the metal walls that cased them in. “There isn’t much I can do to take care of you here. I can’t give you a courtyard at the rear of my house or hire someone in to scrub your floors. I can’t even give you food that you enjoy. But I could give you a computer terminal and I could take back your resources.”

  “By calling me a liar!”

  “You were supposed to know I didn’t mean it,” he said irritably.

  “How the hell am I supposed to know that?”

  He stopped pacing and looked at her, all the anger in him slowly eclipsed by surprise. Then, as close to hesitantly as he ever came, he said, “You’re supposed to know me.”

  Skye wanted to laugh again, but couldn’t find either the humor in the situation or the meanness in herself. Instead, she spread her hands. “How? By giving me the silent treatment for two months? Why does it always have to come to something like this before you explain anything to me? I hate arguing with you, Vala! I want to be friends and you just freeze me out!”

  That threw him. He stared at her for a while, then turned his back on her again and stomped over to the bed. “If I was good at dealing with people, I wouldn’t be here, would I?” he grumbled and sat. He was quiet for a long time. Then he said, “I thought I was being friendly.”

  “By telling the whole planet you think I’m duplicitous and dishonest? I mean, what am I supposed to believe, Vala? Your ‘respectful’ silence, or the only words you say?”

  Again, he seemed stymied. Time stretched out, leaden and uncounted.

  “Then I’m sorry,” he said.

  It was her turn to blink and stare. He didn’t turn around.

  “I thought you didn’t make mistakes,” she said finally.

  “It wouldn’t be a mistake with anyone else but you,” he shot back, tight and frustrated. Then he sat quietly for several seconds, and added with difficulty, “But it is you. And it was a mistake. I didn’t…mean to hurt your feelings.”

  “Oh.” She couldn’t quite hold on to her anger in the face of his stiff-backed apology, couldn’t even keep looking at him. “Well…I may be over-reacting.”

  He snorted, which was obviously alien for ‘Yes. Yes, you may.’

  “I get so tired of not knowing what I’m supposed to be saying to you, or doing, or anything.” She trudged over and sat down beside him. He continued to stare straight ahead, but shifted one arm to make a little more room for her. She looked at her feet and his side-by-side on the floor and said, “Everything just seems to turn into an argument. It’s not your fault—at least, it’s not all your fault. I mean, I may not be duplicitous and dishonest, but I am stubborn and contentious, I guess.”

  “Perhaps you should be punished,” he said, and gave her half a smile. When she didn’t return it, he raised his hand, hesitated, and placed it on her knee. “I’ll talk to you.”

  It was a concession for him, and by his tone, a large one. Hearing it should have made her feel better. Instead, it made her feel worse. “I’m not very good at this first-contact stuff, am I?” she sighed. “You’re going to be pretty sick of me before the end.”

  “Again, you presume to know my mind.” His hand moved up her thigh and squeezed. “No first-contact comes easily. You’re handling this very well. I’m proud of you, and—” Squeeze. “—I forgive your outburst.”

  She smiled for him. It was a weak effort, but she wanted him to see her trying, since she couldn’t say anything as gauche as, ‘I forgive you too’.

  The silence just kept stretching.

  “Perhaps I should punish you,” he said again, no longer smiling.

  “Believe me, I’m sorry enough.”

  His hand moved again, up and around to cup her hip. “You are no woman of Vaaj,” he said. “You require my help to feel forgiven.”

  She started to protest and then stopped before she even managed the first word. Maybe he was even right. She did feel bad, and she wanted to prove it, not just say it. Inasmuch as spankings could be good for anything, they were good for that. “Where do you want me?” she asked, surrendering.

  “Do you see?” He pulled her to her feet, his smile back and only a little smug as he took her to the side-table and turned her to face it. “You feel better already. Show me your remorse, Skye. Tell me why you submit to me.”

  Her fingers clenched on the tabletop. “Do I have to?”

  “Yes.”

  “But you always—”

  “Take down your coverings.”

  Interrupting her with his command, just as he’d done with the man down on Earth, paring away the distraction of her argument and forcing her to remain accountable. Strangely, it didn’t upset her. If anything, it was a little embarrassing, and besides, making him scold her wasn’t really showing remorse, was it? Ducking her head, Skye unfastened her jeans and pushed them down, then her panties, even more uneasily. He’d always done that part, even after all this time, and she liked it that way, liked not having to take the responsibility for her vulnerability.

  She was submitting. Not for the first time maybe, but it felt like the first time.

  “Tell me why,” he said, once she stood bared from waist to ankles and shifting nervously before him. His voice behind her was cool and sure, completely in command. It made it easier.

  “I blew things out of proportion,” she admitted. It was hard to say, maybe as hard as it had been for him to say he’d made a mistake. “I picked a fight with you over a few words. I should have given you the benefit of the doubt, especially when...oh heck, I could see you were trying to do something nice for me. I over-reacted and I ruined it. I’m sorry.”

  He grunted in a pleased way, just once, her only warning before his hand came down. He struck fast—right cheek, left cheek—and was done with the second before she could even process the sting of the first. Then he waited, letting her nerves wake up, letting her anticipation build, letting her remember what these really felt like. Her buttocks clenched…and slowly relaxed. Immediately, his palm cracked down in a volley of rapid-fire slaps, each one sufficient to send her hips bucking up against the table.

  She couldn’t stay quiet for these and couldn’t hold completely still, but he simply stopped and waited until her gasping, “Ow-ow-ow!” refrains and squirming hops had run their course. He didn’t chide her, didn’t order her into position. She was the one who was supposed to be sorry. She gripped the table with even greater determination, braced her feet as far apart as her bundled jeans would allow, and forced her bottom to relax.

  He continued at once, not as fast as before, giving her a good two seconds between each smack and making sure he overlaid every tingling inch of his target with fresh prickling heat. As thorough as he was, Skye knew he wasn’t swinging as hard as he could. Hard enough, for sure—with each progressive smack, it was harder not to let go of the table and reach back to ward off these deliberate blows—but not as hard as he could.

  It occurred to her then, grimacing and gasping as his hand poured careful fire over her exposed and helpless self, that Vala really was an excellent judge of punishment, even if he wasn’t that great with people. He never meted out more discipline than fit th
e crime, as he perceived it anyway, and he thought this one was pretty small potatoes. That said, he understood also that she was sorry, and he let her know it in a way she could feel, a way she could be proud of, and now they could go on, hopefully a little better than before.

  Unexpectedly, the thought came to her that she hoped he’d keep her for her ‘services’ when the spanking part was over. Silly thought, because he called for her almost every night. Sillier, because…because…well, she didn’t know why, but it was.

  Vala stopped, waited an interminable ten seconds while she struggled to control her tics and quivers, and then gave her a final two whacks just as he’d begun—right cheek, left cheek. His hand, a hand as hot as her bottom was, and for the same reason, came up to pat her shoulder. “You could,” he began, and then paused and amended, “We could both serve each other better.”

  She nodded, her head still bent, breathing, just breathing.

  His hand squeezed once, went away, and came back low to brush across the flames of her bottom. Right cheek…left cheek. “I wish I had more to give you,” he remarked, very lightly rubbing his scaled palm over her. “I’ve never known a woman who tried harder to please me.”

  She managed a short, strained laugh that became an indrawn gasp as his fingers slipped between her thighs. He stroked there too.

  “Do you need time to recover?” he asked, his hand easing back and forth.

  “No,” she said, and blushed at how quickly she’d said it.

  “Good.” The hand withdrew and she heard the heavy creak and rustle as he unfastened his armored pants. He didn’t need her to make him ready tonight; she didn’t need any extra treatment either, it would seem. Her groan as he entered her had nothing to do with pain. In a tight voice, he growled, “You serve me very well in most respects.”

  He timed his thrusts with excruciating care, making her feel everything. Slow and steady, he claimed and reclaimed her, pausing now and then to grind against her burning bottom, stoking those flames high and driving them inside her to ignite in whole new ways. Shuddering, Skye closed her eyes and let it happen, let her breath align to the torturously unhurried rhythm he set. The table…she let go at last, reached one hand back, and pulled at his thigh.

  He grunted laughter, his claws flexing lightly at her waist. “Do not presume to command my actions, woman. I move in my own time.”

  “Please,” she gasped.

  “Hm. Well.” He bent, and she thought for a moment he would nuzzle at her, expected it so completely that she could actually feel the phantom press of his strange mouth against her neck, even arched her own back to receive it. But he only said, “It pleases me to oblige you this once.”

  He gripped her hips hard then, his thumbs searing deliberately across the rounded swells of her hot bottom, and gave her what she needed. Her second spanking began; his hips slapped against her fast and hard, and her rapture struck and took her with it right into the sun. On and on, in ways she hadn’t known could happen or ever be prepared for, and when she came back, there was Vala hot against her back, to murmur in her ear, “Someday we’ll have to try this without the fighting first.”

  She laughed, gasped, and he began again.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “Oh, you monkey-thumping son of a troll,” Skye said, almost without emotion. She followed this strange statement with several loud seconds of swearing and holographic-key mashing, then slapped both hands over her face and screamed into them.

  Vala scrolled his way quietly through a number of geologic maps and selected two to upload.

  “Stupid ice elves,” Skye muttered. “They got me.”

  “So I gathered.”

  “It’s not fair!” she wailed. “They freeze you in place for five whole seconds. Five! That’s practically a whole fight! And they’re immune to fire attacks. How does that even work? I invested hundreds of gold in fire enhancing enchantments, dammit! Why aren’t they melting?!”

  He glanced her way, grunted, and continued to look at maps. “You’re quitting,” he observed.

  “I play Battlehammer to relax, not get more stressed.” With a few frustrated stabs at the floating keys, Skye exited out to the title screen and then threw herself back in her chair. She watched Vala move to another terminal and begin the endless process of sifting through data streams for a few precious grains of information. Slowly, her indignation at suffering an ignoble demise at the hands of the prancing ice elves eased. Vala never lost his temper at the computer. “You can play if you want to,” she offered, knowing he wouldn’t.

  “I have work to do.”

  “Oh come on. I could sure use some pointers.”

  “Vaaji warriors do not play silly games.”

  “Oh.” Skye smiled at his stiff back. “So this level 68 lizardman warrior that popped up for the first time last month must have been saved to my account by mistake. I’ll just delete it.”

  He threw her a withering glare over his shoulder, became distracted by something on his screen, and was soon absorbed in scrolling lines of text and WAV files.

  She watched him work for a while without speaking—when he was like this, he wasn’t any good for conversation anyway—but when he started the lengthy upload, she figured it was okay to ask, “What are you reading about now?”

  “China,” he replied, already at a new station.

  “Still.”

  “It has a lot of history.”

  “Interesting reading?” she asked, toying with a loose thread on the knee of her sweat pants.

  “Fascinating. I want you to purchase this book for me…this Sun Tzu book.”

  “The Art of War? Sure. They’re not going to send it up here, though.”

  “They will if I tell them to,” he said mildly.

  He was probably right. Skye shrugged and twirled her chair around, watching the room swirl and spin. “Well, if you’re going to waste a million taxpayer dollars on a delivery launch anyway, make them send a pizza too. I’m sick of glop.”

  “Since you bring it up, you’re losing weight.”

  “Because I’m sick of glop.”

  “That’s really too bad, because now you have to eat more of it.”

  She stuck her tongue out at his back and twirled the chair again. “So…what is the ultimate goal here anyway? Do you think that if you just know enough about us, you’ll find a way to annex Earth without anyone noticing?”

  It wasn’t the first time she’d asked so directly, but Vala had never answered with more than a grunt. Now, to her surprise, he flashed her one of his rare smiles and said, “Once I’ve finished collecting the histories of each of Earth’s nations, cultures, scientific and industrial progress, politics and religions, and thoroughly mapped your world’s resources, habitats, and areas of environmental crisis, I’ll send the complete report to the Empire’s tacticians. They’ll study it—this will take a number of years—and formulate a plan to achieve a unification of Earth’s nations.”

  “Oh my gosh,” Skye said, laughing. “You honestly think it’s going to be that easy?”

  “Yes, particularly since the Empire will ease their transition by offering certain strategic technological advancements.”

  “So, you’re going to dangle a flying car in front of us and that’s going to magically cool down the problems in the Middle East, resolve creationists with Darwinians, and end racism?”

  “Not with a flying car, but yes.” He leaned out to give her knee a pat, all his attention still on his computer screen. “Sometimes all it takes is the right incentive. Human beings aren’t unreasonable. With guidance, they can be brought together.”

  “You sound awfully sure of yourself,” she said dubiously.

  “You forget we’ve done it before.”

  “How many times?”

  Vala showed his teeth in a grimace of perhaps not unjustified pride. “Six.”

  “How many times did it work out as painlessly as you just said?”

  His smile faded slightly. “Four.”r />
  “And the rest of the time, you what? Went to war?”

  “Yes. But that won’t happen in this case.”

  “Again, you sound sure…”

  “I may not be a tactician, but I am one man in an airless environment. This vessel has no weapons system, but there is a defensive net in place around us. And in all the time I have been here, those defenses have never been tested. When a demand was made for one of Earth’s females, you were provided within the day.” He smiled again, as if this point were one she’d actually want to ponder in a positive light. “They recognize our superiority and that is a very good way to begin. Humans have much to recommend themselves. Once their imagination and ingenuity are properly harnessed, they’ll be a great asset to the Empire.”

  The sad thing was, he thought he was paying her a compliment.

  Skye let it drop and gradually, Vala’s attention was recaptured by his monitors. There were days when she had to work hard at reminding herself that she wanted him to talk to her.

  No, that wasn’t fair. Considering he’d only had about a month to work at it, Vala had turned out to be a decent conversationalist, as long as the topics under discussion were the philosophy of the warrior, the history of the Empire, or, surreally, the artistic works of the post-Impressionist movement, with an emphasis on Van Gogh. And of course, he could listen to Skye talk about herself for hours, even though getting him to grunt a simple yes or no answer about his own past could be a day-long exercise in frustration.

  But he was talking. And apart from the first few days, when he’d so obviously been uncomfortable about it, he kept her company fairly well. (“Is it hard for you to do this?” she’d asked one night, as they’d been comparing what little she knew of the Trojan War with something he called the Siege of Praxus. “Not so much anymore,” he’d replied, “I just pretend you’re a man. Until I have sex with you.”) And knowing that he was making the effort solely for her comfort ironed out a lot of the awkwardness. Oh, nothing was going to make the time she spent up here pass quickly, but it was definitely better than it had been.