Darwin's Sword: Savannah - Book Two

by C. P. McClennan

  His eyes returned to the dust piles.

  Auburn would no longer be revealing anything.

  He stood and dusted himself off before buckling and rezipping his jeans. Lifting his black jacket off the side table, he shrugged into it. Stepping out of the private dance area, as he anticipated, no one noticed him. The few that might have seen were too drunk, too stoned, or too busy with their own private dances to care. Walking out to the bar area, he glanced at the stools along the back wall.

  At these clubs “perverts row” used to be the chairs up against the stage where a man would lean forward to pay the stage dancer. In this modern era it had become these high stools along the back wall where the dancers would walk between johns offering to drag these sorry men to the private dance of their lives.

  He considered getting a second dancer. He was still hungry. Two strippers vanishing in a single evening would cause his hunting grounds to shrink. Taking slow steps and keeping his eyes on those around him, he made his way to the door.

  The music changed not only tune but also era. Billy Joel’s piano licks on “Angry Young Man” began to fill the club. An odd tune, indeed, for this modern era of electric music.

  He smiled and recalled first hearing the song thirty years before.

  It had been a better and happier time. It was a time when he didn’t want to kill every single human being. It was a time when he had even considered sparing them.

  He glanced at his watch and turned to leave the club. Pushing the door open he looked out at the snow flittering down from the sky above. “Soon,” he whispered, “soon I’ll go home.” Graven’s boots crunched the snow as he walked out of the club.

  Chapter Two

  Garbage Scow

  I

  A Courtroom on Kettelgian Five

  August 2018

  “That is quite a story,” Tormatang said and floated towards Savannah. The voice was electronic, deep, and female. “And this body you currently reside in, you wish to keep it?”

  “Yes, Master, I do.” Savannah nodded.

  Nigel’s eyes were wide and held on Tormatang. He had once been a firm believer that races on Earth, other than Caucasian, all looked alike. Seeing Tormatang, however, took this to another level.

  Tormatang, the being that floated at the front of the room was a translucent blob, much as Zed had been. The skin remained white but, depending upon thoughts, it would change colour.

  “Why would you want something so fragile and constricting?” Tormatang’s outer skin turned a light blue, the usual colour of Emmi curiosity.

  “This body is what I have become, sire. It is what I have evolved into.”

  “See!” Graven yelled and stood from his chair. “She has become one of them. This is why she can’t be trusted!”

  It took Nigel all his might not to stand up and deck Graven. Being their last encounter had left Nigel on his back and bloodied, logic assisted his self-control in keeping him seated.

  “And sir, she can flash without a jumper. She has become a dangerous abomination!”

  Savannah silenced Graven with a glare.

  “Graven, sit down before I have you removed.” Tormatang’s skin turned brown with these words.

  Turning back, Savannah spoke with a calm, sultry voice. “Master, there is more.”

  Tormatang turned bright red. “Tell me, child. Tell me all.”

  The room bubbled with hushed discussions.

  Nigel stood up, bringing all those discussions to a hushed silence. “Sir, Ms. Tormatang?”

  “What is this ‘mizz’ you refer to?” Tormatang responded allowing boom in its voice.

  Savannah glanced back at Nigel. “Humans are a race of gender. Mizz is a reference that suggests Mr. Banks,” she said tipping her head towards Nigel, “thinks of you as feminine.”

  “Quaint, but I can see this as an attempt at showing respect. It’s the voice, isn’t it? Yes, Mr. Banks, you wish to speak?”

  Nigel nodded. “Yes, thank you.” Sweat ran off his bald head and between his blue eyes. He wiped it away and dried his hand on the black tunic he had been issued by Graven. “No one wants to see Graven dead more than I do.”

  “Being you are the only Earth-born human in the room, I don’t think that requires proof,” Tormatang agreed.

  “But there’s more to the story than anyone here is aware.”

  Graven turned around to Nigel. His eyes softened.

  “You wish to defend him?”

  “On Earth we have courts like this.” Nigel stopped a moment and cleared his throat. “Had courts like this. The best judgments can only come when the one overseeing the proceedings, such as yourself, has all the facts.”

  “As it should be, Mr. Banks. I sense not so much want to defend here.”

  “No, sir. I’d like to see the fucker strung up by his nuts.”

  “Nuts?” Tormatang asked.

  Graven turned back to the front with a sly grin.

  Savannah laughed and held up a hand shaking her head.

  “I understand. A colloquialism, no doubt. Continue, Mr. Banks.”

  “No, I’m quite literal about that. I want all the facts known before he’s judged.”

  “What facts?”

  “They would be hearsay from me, though.”

  Tormatang turned light green and floated towards Graven. “Graven? Do you have stories we should know?”

  “Tormatang, I’ve yet to be proven to have done anything wrong, I don’t think…”

  “Graven, you evicted a space faring race without clearance and,” Tormatang continued turning to Savannah, “you did it after a request to abort the mission was presented to you. I believe Shava…” Tormatong stopped and turned a light blue. “Savannah will provide the evidence fairly easily.”

  Graven grunted. “There is more to the story that Savannah is unaware of.”

  “Yet Mr. Banks seems to know this?” Tormatang floated back from Graven. “The last living human, and somehow he is the one trying to bring facts to light that may lessen potential judgments against you?”

  “It surprises me, as well.”

  “Will you allow Mr. Banks to speak on your behalf?”

  Graven turned back and studied Nigel’s face for a moment. “Yes, I will.”

  “Mr. Banks,” Tormatang’s voice boomed. “Please share with us your story.”

  Nigel cleared his throat again. “We were in the brig of Graven’s ship just after being taken from Earth…”

  II

  The Ris Science Labs on the Third Moon of Kettelgian Five

  “I did warn you about the side effects.” Quelver’s white blob floated around him.

  “Yes, you did.” He held his arms straight out in front of him and curled his fingers into fists. “This is bloody odd.”

  “And you have the language down well.”

  His brown eyes turned to watch Quelver float around him. “With Cooper’s tutelage, the language was simple.”

  “Yes, I imagine it would be.”

  “Cooper did tell me that the best part will be the drinking…oh, and the sex.”

  “Cooper told me the same. When Shava gets her modifications done, I will also do the same so I can help her learn the mating biology.”

  “Good idea. Shame she can’t go when I do.”

  “It’s not our way; you know this.”

  One of the programmed responses kicked in as he felt his head nod to signal affirmative understanding. His right hand found his chin and stroked at the light bristles of a goatee. “This needs to be longer.”

  Quelver stopped in front and allowed a mirror projection to appear on his skin.

  “And I said I wanted long blonde hair, not short dark.”

  “Cooper felt it would draw too much attention due to where you are being inserted.”

  “Yes, so he said. I wish he were coming along, too. Would be much easier planning this with a local to deal with the customs and etiquette.”

  “You’re well enough versed.
” The mirror projection vanished from Quelver’s skin.

  “Of course, but…”

  “You are a warrior, Graven. You will succeed in your mission.”

  “Fuckin’ right, I will.” His brown eyes narrowed as they searched Quelver. He pointed at his hair. “I still want this longer.”

  “Yes, and blonde. Fine.”

  III

  Chicago, Illinois

  January 23, 2018

  “Where are we going?” Sheila saw only darkness. The blindfold kept her guessing where she was. Of course, Nigel had her complete trust, but she knew they were not far from the radio station.

  Leaving the station, they walked to Nigel’s parking spot. He put the blindfold on her inside the car. Five minutes of riding followed that offered Sheila hints of passing lights reflecting off the wet pavement from the bottom of the blindfold. The only sounds were the whipping wind and occasional splash of tire assaulting puddles.

  Good thing she wasn’t prone to motion sickness.

  With the blindfold in place, Sheila did find some irony in listening to Peter Gabriel crooning “In Your Eyes” over the car speakers as they made their way.

  “No worries, love. You’ll enjoy this.” Nigel assured.

  She recognized his Jack Sparrow voice, which meant a playful evening was in store. Even with his native British accent, the Sparrow impression was not very good.

  Bad impersonations aside, she trusted him. “Aye, Captain,” she said. “I know I will. And if you ask me why the rum is gone, I’ll break your kneecaps.”

  “No worries, love. I won’t ask such a thing. Savvy?”

  “Savvy,” she agreed.

  The car parked just as the tune switched to Gabriel’s cover of “My Body Is A Cage”.

  “Happy tunes tonight, is it?” She laughed.

  Nigel offered no answer.

  Sounds rustled to her left until the door closed. She waited until the click of the door and a hand grasped hers to assist her out and to her feet. Her black skirt swayed just above her knees, which were covered in dark burgundy stockings that matched her blouse that was hiding beneath her parka. The ensemble was exactly what Nigel had instructed her to wear…except the parka, which was worn out of necessity due to wanting to avoid pneumonia.

  Her stilettos clicked on the pavement and splashed in a low puddle without getting any water in her shoes. The shoe bit had been one she considered questioning Nigel on but, again, she trusted him.

  The stairs were a surprise. Her mind had made assumptions as to where they were going, but feeling Nigel gently guiding her down cement steps before entering a building meant this was a place she had not been before. The hiss of a motion-sensitive door sliding open made her jump. “Where are we?”

  Nigel chuckled but said nothing.

  Inside was warm, and the parka was pulled off her shoulders. Lights, it seemed, of a dance floor nature flashed at the bottom of her blindfold. The loud voices and humping music helped confirm her suspicions. With Nigel’s arm around her waist, she was hustled through the area and felt the brush of drapes as they walked past.

  This new place was quieter. The music was muffled enough that the drapes being dragged closed could be heard.

  “On your knees, darlin’,” Nigel whispered in her ear with intentional puffs of warm breath.

  She shivered. Warm breath on her was a fetish, regardless of where it was.

  His hands guided her down onto what felt like a pillow. Then her wrists were bound behind her in what felt like silk ribbon.

  Waiting for a moment, she heard rustling around her. Strong hands were placed on her shoulders, stronger than Nigel’s, and then she felt it. The tip of it brushed her lips, but she was already certain it was not Nigel’s. For him to walk around her, unzip and get hard with no sounds would have been impressive. With no further thoughts, she accepted it with a kiss. A grin followed as she imagined the lipstick stain that the penis in front of her now had. Opening her mouth, she sucked it in.

  The unknown erection was long.

  At first, she took only some of the tip in her mouth. One of the hands on her shoulders released, wrapped itself in her hair, and pushed her to take it deeper. A second set of hands grasped each side of her head and pulled until almost causing her to gag. As she held it deep for a moment, she felt a second tip brush up against her cheek.

  This one wasn’t Nigel’s, either.

  Feeling all hands release, she began taking turns with each salty erection in her mouth. The approving groans, likely from the erections’ respective owners, were noted as she worked.

  After a few moments, both vanished.

  Two sets of hands grasped at her, a man on either side, and lifted her into the air. An awkward feeling to be still in the kneeling position, but hearing rustling beneath her, it was obvious it would not last. Her skirt was bunched up, exposing her ass and proving, as instructed by Nigel, she had no underwear.

  One of the males growled appreciation at what he saw.

  Upon descending, she sensed a condom-sheathed erection below her held up straight so that, as she was lowered back down, it slid right in and left her straddling this newest participant. Her back arched, feeling the cock impale her deeply with its warmth. It was large and a tight fit in her.

  The other two both returned together close enough that both erection tips were in her mouth at once mashing their heads together. Three erections inside her at once was a first. Though anal was not something she did often, she wondered if there might be a fourth yet.

  All three men grunted and shifted as they continued.

  Then her first wave of orgasm splashed over her, announced by her involuntary scream that threw both oral cocks from her mouth.

  A stray thought brought thanks to Sheila that she had enough control not to have bitten down with the orgasm.

  A fourth erection was then presented to her from behind. Hands grasped her hips and gently opened her enough to push the tip inside.

  Slight pain, at first, caused Sheila to grind her teeth before things began to loosen up. Opening her mouth again, she felt both cock-tips at her lips eager to find her tonsils again.

  Hands from behind reached around and, with the popping of buttons, ripped the blouse open. With the barrier gone, they then gripped her breasts to assist with thrusting power.

  Nigel removed her blindfold.

  After a moment of eye adjustments, she began to make out who her playmates were.

  Beneath her, was Reggie, a producer on another radio show on the same station as Nigel. He was young, muscular and had dyed his hair black.

  Glancing up, she recognized another young, muscular friend. Marvin worked with Nigel doing production on commercials. The other cock she was sucking belonged to Terrance, a friend from the club, whom she recognized just before his cum erupted into her mouth.

  Her second orgasm took her just as Marvin began to convulse as well before her tongue got a second taste of cum.

  Finally, a glance over her shoulder showed her that Kent was behind her. Of the guys she and Nigel played with regularly, he easily had the smallest cock, which was likely why they had chosen for him to do her ass. He, too, came and filled his condom completely.

  Last was Reggie beneath her, and the strength of his orgasm tore Sheila through another of her own. This last orgasm was intense enough that, for ten minutes after the act was over, she lay snuggling with all four men listening to them but only hearing what sounded like the teacher in the Peanuts cartoons.

  Fresh clothes had been laid out for her on a chair in the corner. Soon the fivesome was dressed and stepping from behind a velvet curtain into a nearly empty bar and dance club.

  Nigel sat at the bar nursing a short glass with cola and something in it. “Did you have fun?”

  “Why weren’t you with us?” Sheila asked and then hugged him.

  He handed her an open bottle of water. “Sometimes variety is a good thing.”

  “Sometimes,” she agreed and swigged th
e water. “But I like familiarity, too.”

  “You’ll have that when we get home.” He winked at her. His glance shifted to the surrounding men. Each one he handed a water bottle, these ones unopened. “You all have dates coming, right?”

  All four nodded agreement.

  “Then I thank you for your service, gentlemen. First round is on me.” He turned and held up his hand to the bartender.

  IV

  The Brig

  February 15, 2018

  “The planet was only collateral damage. Really, I just wanted your rum.”

  Sheila’s eyes fluttered open. The cot beneath her was metal and cold. Her bare feet sensed a rough blanket folded beneath them, but no other coverings seemed to be offered. Waking from the dream-memory of three weeks ago, she wished she had the blindfold now.

  “When the smoke cleared, all that was left was two intertwined heaving bodies, a broken bed, and a shitload of laundry to be done.”

  “What the fuck are you on about?” The voice was Nigel’s. “You want us to do laundry?”

  Sheila sat up. She looked at Graven standing outside the bars, leaning on them with his hands linked inside. Turning right, she saw her husband was slowly rising from a similar metal bunk to hers.

  Graven stood gazing at them in a white tunic and light gray pants with blonde hair flowed straight down both shoulders to mid-chest. “Maybe opening with a joke wasn’t my best idea.” His eyebrows rose. “Although, it really wasn’t a joke.”

  “What is your best idea?” Nigel chirped.

  “Do you two know how hard this is?”

  “What is?” Sheila jumped at hearing her voice ask the question.

  He smiled at her. “You are the only two true humans on this vessel.”

  “Your fuckin’ point being?”

  Sheila gazed over at her husband and felt comfort in hearing Nigel say such words. Certainly they were words she wanted to use herself, but hearing him confirmed that she and Nigel were on the same page.