Enigma I: Transformation
Rachel Bo

 

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2004 by Rachel Bo

No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including but not limited to printing, file sharing, and email, without prior written permission from Changeling Press LLC.

 

ISBN 1-59596-023-6
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Editor:Connie Alberts
Cover Artist:Bryan Keller

 

 

 

Chapter 1

 

Tira stepped out of the I-X pod, wishing once again she had a better understanding of how the technology worked. Was she destroyed at one end and a copy created from ambient matter at the other? Or were the constituents that made up her body reduced to their subatomic levels, able to be transmitted instantaneously to a receiving station and recombined into flesh and blood?

Even the people who created the technology couldn’t agree on exactly what the mechanism was. Made her a little uneasy. So many of the devices in use today harnessed forces the scientific community barely understood. The discovery of alien intelligences had expanded humanity’s technological base so widely and rapidly, understanding couldn’t keep pace with invention.

Tira shook her head. The technology wasn’t her problem. The man politely awaiting her attention, however, was. Tira raised her right hand, forming the sign of Respectful Greeting.

Zan countered with Humble Awe. “X-L Elazri, thank you in advance for your assistance.”

Tira smiled, signaling Negative. “Premature praise, Representative Zan. Let’s see what I can do first. And, please, call me Tira.” She should have become accustomed to such reactions over the years. Her stellar record with the Xeno-Translation Union had become a sort of legend. But she still found herself uncomfortable in the presence of such high expectations.

Zan quickly gestured Gratitude, then turned and beckoned. “A brief summary of our attempts at communication has been prepared.”

Tira followed him through the bright, uncluttered halls of the ASB’s Overture outpost and into an opulently appointed conference room. A circle of smart-chairs surrounded a state-of-the-art holoview pylon. As Tira took a seat, the chair molded itself perfectly to her body. With a soft click, a panel in the low table beside her slid aside and the cinnamon and mocha scent ofkaf, a drink produced by her homeland and her favorite beverage, filled the air as a large mug rose on a small platform. Tira lifted the mug and inhaled hot, aromatic steam, yet even as she enjoyed this luxury, she frowned at the waste.

Tira’s predecessors had forged an agreement that paid a percentage of all revenue generated by the exploitation of science, trade, and intellectual properties acquired as a result of the efforts of the Xeno-Translation Union -- a brilliant move on their part. Thanks to their foresight, the Xeno-Translation arm of the Alliance of Sapient Beings, or ASB, was one of the richest branches of the galactic empire.

Still, Tira disapproved heartily of spending those funds on frivolities, and using instantaneous transport to bringkaf to Sepia definitely qualified as a frivolity. Better to pour some of that wealth into the scientific community, into a more thorough understanding of some of the new technologies -- maybe then a repeat of theAlphonse tragedy could be avoided.

Tira grimaced. Obviously, the recent defeat of her Reapportionment Plan by elitist factions within the XTU had stung more than she would admit even to herself. She took a sip of the golden liquid and glanced up to see Zan signaling Anxious Questioning. Tira deliberately smoothed her features. “It is nothing, Representative Zan. An old problem.”

He nodded. “Please, return the favor and call me simply Zan.”

Tira nodded, and Zan pressed his palm against the arm of his chair. A hologram appeared above the heevee pylon.

She had been briefed before departing her previous assignment, but actual footage was so much more revealing. Tira watched intently as snippets of attempts to communicate over the last three months played out before her.

The average height of Sepia’s sentient population was six feet, ten inches. They wore no clothing, securing tools and other items when necessary on belts around their waists. Their skin consisted of tiny hexagonal plates resembling scales which secreted a highly reflective substance. This substance appeared to serve both as protection from the intense light of their sun and as an evaporative cooling mechanism. They were roughly humanoid. Bipedal. Their eyes were similar in shape to human eyes, though much larger. That, coupled with the tendency of the pupils to constrict down to vertical slits in Cass-V’s harsh light, created a resultant all-iris effect that could be rather unnerving. Slender, yet powerfully muscled, they moved with the sinuous grace of liquid mercury, but slowly -- another adaptation to their environment. Speed, on Sepia, meant heat production and quick exhaustion beneath their intense sun -- a Type F star.

Tira studied the back of her hand for a moment. She’d been Modified before she came -- skin darkened to a golden honey to protect her from the harsh sun, heart rate and sweat gland modifications made to counter the heat. Corneal augmentation would produce a filtering pigmentation when she exposed her eyes to Cass-V’s rays. She directed her attention back to the holo and watched as the nightmare of all Xeno-linguists occurred.

Non-acknowledgement.

Avoidance.

No matter how the Xeno-team approached them, the Sepians ignored them utterly, with the single exception of sidestepping as necessary to avoid any physical contact.

Tira watched the summary once, then started it again, halting the replay after a few moments. The image of two Sepians hovered above the pylon. They faced each other, one with its right hand out, palm down, the other with the left hand palm up, a strange handshake that did not end until they had finished speaking. “Fascinating,” Tira murmured. Even in buildings which were obviously commercial, the Sepians joined hands, however briefly, any time they spoke to one another. “That thing they do with their hands -- is it a greeting?”

“We’ve been unable to determine with certainty,” Zan admitted. “It seems… strangely awkward.”

“Yes. Therefore, it must serve an important purpose.” Tira rubbed her lower lip with the knuckle of her right forefinger -- her thinking pose. “What do the cultural anthropologists think?”

“They hypothesize that the Sepians were extremely violent in the past. We’ve found several mass burial sites not far from the city, with skeletons that appear to have met violent ends. Ivan thinks this ‘hand-holding’ evolved as a way to prevent bloodshed. Hard to hook a claw in someone’s throat or pull a knife from a belt unexpectedly when you’re holding hands with your intended victim.”

“Hmmmm.” Tira forwarded the holo to a second point and stopped again. “Tell me about the ‘Incident.’ In your own words, what happened?”

Zan signaled Distress, staring at the holo of Jenn lying in the dirt near the clawed feet of two Sepians with a knife protruding from her abdomen. “I -- I don’t know. Jenn had suggested early on that perhaps clothing was a taboo of some sort. Naturally, we decided to exhaust all other avenues before exploring that.

“There is a group of Sepians who appear to be leaders. Other Sepians defer to them. They gather at Red Rock --” He hesitated. “That’s a large clearing in the center of town with red boulders strewn around that they use for seating. Anyway, that day we had been trying for several hours to get some sort of response from them. Jenn became frustrated. She walked up to this pair and started taking off her clothes before Chris and I realized what she intended.” Zan shook his head. “I’ve never seen a Sepian move sofast. This cord-thing appeared out of nowhere. Wrapped around her legs in two seconds flat. The next thing I see is the haft of a knife sticking out of her belly.

“Then she collapsed. We were afraid to move, Chris and I. The Sepians --” He swallowed, signaling Outrage. “Their hands were linked again. It was like they’d never even moved. They were totally oblivious. Ignored us all, just like before. I finally stepped toward Jenn, and when they didn’t react, Chris and I grabbed her and carried her back here for medical attention.”

“She didn’t touch them?” An entire Overture Team had been massacred in the XTU’s infancy when an X-L broke a previously unrecognized taboo by touching a Gemzarian. As a result, XTU bylaws forbad physical contact with alien races unless the contact was instigated by a member of that race.

“No.” Zan fingered Absolute Certainty.

Tira rubbed at her lip again, then realized what she was doing and forced her hand down to her lap. She had an idea, but… “Send all the relevant files to the heevee in my room.”

He pressed a hand to the panel in his armrest. “Done.”

“Why don’t you show me around the facility?”

Zan nodded and stood, leading the way out the door.

* * *

A week later, after dozens of hours watching playbacks, Tira had formulated a plan. She knew that Zan would never allow it, and despite her seniority hewas the Representative in charge of this Overture, so she was going to have to take a calculated risk.

The team had taken to calling the cityEnigma , due to its strange, contradictory architecture and the team’s inability to figure out why the Sepians would not respond to them.

Since the Sepians completely ignored the Xeno-team, with the exception of the one Incident, Zan had decided to place OB-3 holographic recording devices at key locations within the city. Zan had placed these holographic observers in full view of the Sepians, with no visible objections and no removals by the inhabitants. Reasoning that lack of objection implied permission, he hoped that careful observation might lead to insights that would break the stalemate. Tira had learned a great deal from these recordings.

Sepian culture was a strange mix of the archaic and the scientifically advanced. Early studies of the Cass-V star system had revealed thriving bases on both of the planet’s large moons. Self-contained ecosystems, space shuttles, mining operations -- all signs of a technologically advanced society. Topographical studies of the planet itself had revealed numerous scattered small cities containing complex manufactured structures.

When the discovery team had attempted to contact the Sepians on their radio frequencies -- which were utilized extremely sparingly for a space-faring race -- and their attempts were ignored, the decision was made to place an Overture team on the ground without prior warning.

The first shock had come when they landed. There were, indeed, large commercial buildings constructed of metals, concretes, and synthetics. However, these small enclaves of tall, modern structures were surrounded by low, simple dwellings. The Sepians’ homes consisted of series of interconnected domes constructed of a strong wire mesh frame covered in mud and dried grass, then allowed to bake in the sun, resembling nothing so much as the nests of the Old Earth insects known as mud daubers. No team member had been inside these dwellings, so nothing was known about their inner accommodations, save that occasionally a Sepian carried large rocks indoors.

Sepian cities tended to be small -- less than five thousand residents -- and isolated from one another. Enigma, however, consisted of approximately twenty thousand residents and was the largest city on the main land mass. This, coupled with the continuous stream of visitors from other cities, led the anthropologists to believe that Enigma was a center for whatever passed for government on Sepia. Seven males in particular appeared to govern Enigma’s society. Tira had chosen to approach the one who dominated that group.

Chris, Zan, and Jenn had taken to naming the members of this council after colors, since the discovery team had used that rather uninspired method to name the planet. Four of the leaders were in the yellow spectrum, varying from the pale yellow Butter to the almost-orange Sun. A fifth, at six foot five rather short for a Sepian, was covered in pale, cream-colored scales that reflected Cass-V’s rays with a brilliant iridescence, prompting the name Opal. The sixth and seventh appeared to have come from the populations further north, where brighter skin colorings dominated. Garnet was the dark, reddish brown of old blood, made strangely beautiful by the protective secretion’s shifting reflection of Cass-V’s light.

The leader was a green so dark as to appear almost black.Hunter green , Jenn had said. But Hunter was the name that stuck. He looked like a hunter. He stood about seven feet, five inches -- tall even for a Sepian. He could silence other members of the council with a look, and he moved with the powerful, supple grace of a predator. Of course, they all did that, but his presence seemed somehow more commanding. All the males deferred to him. He reminded Tira of the hypnotic, rolling waves on her home planet of Sonjean, with softly curved crests that belied their strength, and a deceptively calm appearance that hid their murderous undertows.

Sepia’s days were approximately thirty-four hours long. At around twenty-one hundred every day the crew that made up the Overture team -- Xeno-linguists, anthropologists, psychologists, biologists, and others -- gathered in the recreation room. At the same time, most of the Sepians tended to disappear into their homes or gardens. According to the Observer recordings, Hunter regularly retired to his garden, reclining on a smooth rock like a basking lizard with what appeared to be a book in hand.

This particular evening, Tira waited in the rec room until everyone was engaged in conversation, gaming, or Synth experiences, then slipped out. Hoping she didn’t run into anyone, she made her way to the sanitary facility located just behind the reception hall. Once inside the small room, Tira stripped quickly, stuffing her clothes into the sanitation unit. She eyed herself nervously in the mirror. She wasn’t shy, but she wasn’t an exhibitionist either. At least anti-aging and genetic manipulation had advanced to the point where her chronologically nearly one-hundred-year-old body looked more like that of a healthy, active thirty-five-year-old of the twenty-first century.

Not that it would matter to the Sepians. While she found them incredibly beautiful, with their gorgeous, reflectively iridescent skin and lean, muscular bodies, they were not likely to find her flat, monotone, unscaled epidermis attractive. And her height would be a shock to them as well, though at five foot eleven, she was tall for humans from her planet of origin.

Tira took a deep breath to steady her nerves, then peeked out the door. To her relief, the hall remained silent and empty. She padded quietly out into the reception hall and crossed quickly to the entry. Tira started to press her palm to the access pad, but a sudden wave of panic washed over her. What if she was wrong? What if the Sepians attacked her like they had Jenn? This time, there would be no Chris and Zan there to carry her to safety.

Tira shook her head, impatient with herself. She had gone over all these arguments in her head last night. Zan would never authorize what she wanted to do, but seventy years of Xeno-linguistic experience had taught her to trust her instincts. She could probably have convinced Chris to come along as an observer, a backup. But she was afraid her legitimacy would be brought into question if she approached the Sepians in the company of anyone whom they had previously encountered in clothing. That was why, despite Zan’s urging, Tira had yet to step outside the Overture outpost’s walls. She was convinced that to have any chance at success when she met the Sepians for the first time, she must be nude and she must be away from the humans they had seen up until now. Nodding to herself, she pressed her hand against the panel and the door slid open. Tira stepped out onto the hot, red Sepian sand.

 

 

 

Chapter 2

 

Tira glanced up and down the wide street. None of the natives were evident, though she did spot a slender, supple slinker winding out of sight around the corner of the Overture facility. Its long, sinuous body rode on short, scaly legs -- looking like a strange cross between a coarse-haired serpent and a denuded rat. Tira turned and walked rapidly down the street. She had memorized the basic layout of Enigma, and the route to Hunter’s home specifically. She studied the simple, rounded domiciles as she passed. They looked like giant, sandy bubbles that had settled to the ground. She found a stark beauty in their blunt simplicity.

Sepians within cities did not appear to be particularly possessive. Boundaries between homes were marked by pretty, pebbled borders, but neighbors wandered freely from one resident’s plot to another’s. Hunter and a few others had gardens which were unique in that concentrations of the gnarled knot trees grew there, offering a privacy that wasn’t readily available elsewhere on Enigma -- a fact for which Tira was grateful. Despite her culture’s openness regarding nudity, the idea of being naked in front of a large group of the lizard-like Sepians was decidedly nerve wracking.

Tira approached Hunter’s garden from the winding dirt path directly behind his complex of domes. So far, she had not encountered a single Sepian. She stepped off the path, resting for a moment beneath a stand of knot trees, admiring the pale yellow blooms shading to a brilliant red at the center that adorned it. Tira inhaled deeply, savoring the pleasant, fruity scent permeating the air. Narrow, bright greendarters zipped quickly from one flower to the next. Tira started momentarily when a slinker’s bright blue tongue whipped out, snagging one of the darters in mid-flight.

Tira turned away, padding quietly but swiftly toward Hunter’s reading rock. As she neared the clearing where his retreat was located she slowed, then stopped. Sheltered beneath a large knot tree, she peered around the thick, braided trunk.

Holoviews were great technology, but even their three-dimensional, life-like representations did not do the Sepians justice. Hunter’s emerald arms flexed as he turned a page. The light of the lowering sun rippled along his scales, glinting bright green here, dark aqua there, deepest midnight in the shadows. Even his hairless head was attractive. A strong, narrow nose, and wide, thin lips. Huge eyes. Large, oddly-shaped ears flattened back against his skull. Tira allowed herself to admire him for several moments. Her gaze traveled down his reclining form -- and she raised her eyebrows in surprise.

Tira knew from the holoviews that male Sepians were quite well endowed, their impressive sexual organs on display for all to see. But the reality was astounding. Even in repose, Hunter’s counterpart to a human penis had to be at least eight inches long. Tira knew she should look away, but she found herself staring. It was ribbed -- narrow rills ringing the organ every half of an inch or so along its entire length. Tira swallowed, feeling a tingle in her nipples as she wondered what it would be like to have such a magnificent staff inside her. Shocked by her thoughts, she tore her gaze away, and found Hunter’s large emerald green eyes staring at her.

Tira knew instinctively that entities like the Sepians would not respect meekness. Boldly, she stepped out from behind the tree and strode purposefully over to his rock, striving to appear unafraid though her heart was pounding rapidly. Trying to ignore the way his eyes were traveling over her body, those large bright irises seeming to drink in every detail, she held out her right hand, copying the gesture she had seen the Sepians use in the holos.

At first, he did not respond, seeming to take her measure as the minutes ticked past. Tira kept a tight rein on her nerves, refusing to allow her hand to waver. She met his gaze squarely. In one fluid, languid movement, he stood, towering over her. Tira repressed the urge to cringe and craned her neck to maintain eye contact.

It was all she could do to keep from screaming when his broad, flat tongue shot out. It slithered over her head, tangled in her sun-streaked shoulder-length hair, slid beneath the tousled strands to cradle her neck as though in a caress, then snapped back into his mouth.

Tira couldn’t stave off the trembling now. She stared up at Hunter as he seemed to roll his tongue about in his mouth.Is he trying to decide whether I’ll make a good meal? she wondered hysterically.

Abruptly, Hunter dropped to his knees before her. His tongue whipped out again, wrapping around her torso. Moist but not wet, warm and raspy, the flexible ribbon caressed her back, slithered over her shoulder to taste the hollow beneath her chin. Traveling down between her breasts, it dipped briefly into her belly button, then disappeared again into his mouth.

Scared to death, her cheeks burning at the intimate touch, Tira trembled. Her nipples were hard nubs, her chest flushed with desire.Gaia, she thought.If this is it, what a way to go! Her breath caught in her throat as Hunter’s tongue reappeared, wrapping around her thigh, following its curve down, exploring the sensitive skin behind her knee, traveling down to her feet, where it slipped between her toes.

Tira was panting now. His touch surely wasn’t meant to be erotic, yet it was. Her nipples stood out prominently, red and tight. She felt dampness gathering between her legs. Hunter’s long, sharp nose trembled, his nostrils flaring. Lightning-quick, his tongue slipped between her thighs. With a powerful ripple, he pried them apart. The forked tip probed within her pussy, lapping at the moisture gathering in her hot folds.

Tira gasped and started to step back, but Hunter wrapped a huge hand around her waist, holding her there. The pupils of his eyes had expanded, leaving only a narrow green rim of iris. Tira felt as though she were being drawn into a black hole -- and she didn’t want to escape! She closed her eyes as his tongue delved inside her. Then something brushed her ribs. She opened her eyes and glanced down. Hunter’s manhood, hardened and twice its original length, pressed against her. As she stared, tiny pearls of orange-gold liquid grew in the dozen tiny wells that dotted the broad tip of his sexual organ. For a brief moment, the urge to taste that golden nectar nearly overwhelmed her. When she felt herself bending to press her lips to that gleaming emerald flesh, she straightened abruptly, pushing against his chest.

Hunter’s tongue retracted, leaving Tira feeling cold and bereft. He remained motionless as a statue for several moments. Tira waited, trembling -- whether with need or with fear, she wasn’t quite certain. Finally, he held out his left hand, palm up.

Success!

Tira felt a rush of triumph as she lifted her right hand, palm down, and pressed it against his. Hunter’s flesh was incredibly smooth and silky, his huge palm dwarfing hers, the tip of one claw resting lightly against the tender skin of her forearm. He spoke, his voice raspy, in the harsh staccato dialect of the Sepians.

Of course, she couldn’t understand him, but previous experience told her he was most likely to be introducing himself. “My name is Tira,” she responded. Her voice cracked, and Tira swallowed, moistening her lips slightly before she continued. “I represent the Alliance of --” She drew in a sharp breath. Her hand suddenly felt as though it were on fire, burning in his grasp. “I --” She tried to pull away, but two of his fingers wrapped around her wrist like a vise. Heat crept up her arm. As she watched, a red-purple flush appeared, her skin becoming discolored almost to her elbow. “Please,” she gasped, pulling ineffectively at his fingers with her other hand. “It hurts!”

Hunter’s alien eyes bore into her. “Please!” Tira screamed. Abandoning any attempt to remain calm, she wrenched at her arm, trying to free herself. Hunter’s hand was like stone. Tira kicked out at him, but his thighs were rock-hard and she only succeeded in stubbing her bare toes.

The burning heat crept across her shoulders, up her neck. Tira thrashed, clawing at his unyielding flesh with her fingernails. Then her face caught fire, and she screamed over and over as a thousand agonizing flames seemed to dance across her scalp. Her knees buckled. A gray fog obscured her vision, and Tira uttered a relieved sob, welcoming dark oblivion with open arms.

* * *

Zan stormed into the viewing room. “What happened?” he demanded, signaling Anger Tightly Reined.

Chris flinched and signed Grave Concern. “I was skimming back through the heevees from last night and -- and I foundthis. ” He pressed a finger to his worktop and an image of Tira standing before the Sepian they called Hunter sprang to life. Zan watched the scene unfold. When Tira began screaming, he heard a sob and, looking around, found that Jenn was huddled miserably in her chair, arms wrapped tightly around her body.

Zan replayed the sequence once more, then launched into a tirade that began with ‘shit’ and ‘fuck’ and quickly progressed to words in his native Cretorian that Chris and Jenn were suddenly grateful they couldn’t understand. When Zan was coherent again, Chris stood and urged him into a chair. Zan buried his face in his hands briefly. Taking a deep breath, he sat up signaling Apology for Behavior. Chris and Jenn nodded Acceptance.

“What do we do now?” Jenn whispered.

Zan pulled himself together with visible effort, then his fingers danced on the worktop. “We wait.” He watched again as Tira’s legs collapsed. The Sepian appeared oblivious at first, still holding onto her hand, expressionless and silent until it seemed the red-purple flush covered Tira’s entire body. Then his tongue flickered out and he grasped Tira’s ankles, turning up first one foot, then the other, as though confirming that the rash had indeed enveloped every surface. Seemingly satisfied, he released her ankles, pulled her up into his arms, and carried her into his home.

“Wait?” Jenn’s voice cracked. Her hands signaled rapidly -- Dismay, Disbelief, Anger, Determination. “We have to help her!”

Zan shook his head, signing Superior Addressing Subordinate. “We wait.” He ran a portion of the heevee again and again. “She’s alive,” he said. “She’s breathing.” He watched Hunter take Tira into his arms. “For whatever reason, he seemed to accept her. The rash -- it could be some kind of allergic reaction to their secretions.”

“But -- the way hetouched her!”

“We know nothing about their customs.” Zan met her gaze squarely. “And we can’t ask them, because they won’t talk to us. Perhaps this is the way they greet people when meeting for the first time. We can’t know.” He hesitated for a moment, then continued. “I think they’ll try to heal her. And when they can’t, he’ll bring her here.”

“You can’t be sure of that,” Chris protested, fingering Respectful Disagreement.

Zan arranged himself in the posture of Requesting Trust. “I have a feeling. If we storm in there, it could be the equivalent of declaring war.” He glanced back and forth between his colleagues. “Tira had a plan, I’m sure of it. Let’s give her a day -- one Sepian day -- to try to reach them. If we haven’t heard from her by this time tomorrow, I’ll contact the ASB Retrieval Team.” He waited. Reluctantly, Chris and Jenn finally nodded Agreement.

“What are we going to tell the others?” Jenn asked.

“That our illustrious Class-1 Xeno-Linguist has managed to elicit the first verbal response and is currently the guest of a prominent Sepian. No specifics. Right?” Chris and Jenn shared a look, then signed Assent With Reservations.

“Good.” Zan stood abruptly. “Chris, you come with me. We will try once more to speak with the Sepians. Jenn, you stay here and monitor the heevee feeds. Call me immediately if anything changes.”

* * *

A million ants were crawling on Tira’s skin, each tiny step a prickling agony. One part of Tira’s mind babbled uncontrollably, while a calmer portion found amusement in the fact that Old Earth ants had refused to be left behind by humanity. They had become uninvited hitchhikers to the stars, and thrived on every planet with an environment similar to that of their former home.

Strange voices invaded her head, strange tastes, her mouth. A hand lifted her head, pressing a cup to her lips. Though she couldn’t see, she drank, the liquid burning like fire all the way down to her gut. Yet it chased some of the ants away, and she was able to fall into a fitful sleep. In her dream, a green giant spoke to her, but she couldn’t understand him so he tossed her into the mouth of a volcano.

* * *

Tira floated in darkness, counting her slow, measured breaths. Eventually, she came to the realization that the burning, prickling agony had stopped. The blessed relief was almost too much for her. She trembled, afraid to open her eyes for fear the horrible sensations would return. Tears squeezed from the corners of her eyes and laid damp tracks across her temples. Disgusted at this sign of weakness, Tira tried to force her eyes open.

And couldn’t. They seemed glued shut. Tira moaned. There was a rasp of claws against sand, and then someone was pressing a warm, wet rag to her eyes, washing them gently. Finally, Tira was able to open them and see.

A green behemoth loomed over her and she pressed herself into the bedding beneath her. Then the giant sat on a rock beside the bed, his face no longer shadowed, and she remembered who he was and what had happened. “I --” Her voice cracked, throat burning. She licked at her lips with a dry tongue.

Hunter held out a cup. Tira raised herself on her elbows and grasped it with both hands. She hesitated, remembering the burning passage of the drink that had muted the pain. Hunter gestured impatiently. Tira took a deep breath and drank.

Smooth and clear as diamonds, the liquid went down like the essence of honey. Tira swallowed greedily until it was gone, then lay back with a sigh. Hunter took the cup, setting it on the ground beside him, and sat staring at her with what seemed to be an air of expectance.

“How long has it been?” Tira asked. The beverage had worked wonders -- her voice was back and her throat felt fine.

Hunter stared at her impassively.

Tira blew out a breath in exasperation. She sensed that he was waiting for something -- but what? She sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. The movement made the room spin and she clutched the sides of the mattress, taking deep, measured breaths. The room steadied, and she faced her… captor? savior?

Then she realized what he was waiting for. Swallowing hard, she looked down at her white knuckles gripping the bedding. A memory of pain.Burning. She couldn’t do it. She just couldn’t. Without looking at Hunter, Tira lay down again, turning her back to him and curling into a ball facing the wall.

She heard him move behind her. Felt him lean close, as though to touch her, but then with another whisper of claws against sand, he left the room.

Tira stared unseeing at the red earthen wall streaked with shades of yellow and gray. Images ran through her mind. Had all that really happened? Could what seemed like memories be the remnants of some hallucinatory dream?

Tira shook her head.If only. Her cheeks grew hot as she realized that the same orbs she had used to determine where would be the best place to approach Hunter would also have relayed to the outpost every embarrassing, tiny detail of her… encounter. She had to get back there.

Rolling over, she slipped off the side of the bed, wincing as she fell farther than anticipated. The impact jarred her. She kept forgetting how tall these people were -- everything stood at least six inches higher than standard human furnishings.

Tira stepped forward, then cried out as her leg folded beneath her. Within seconds, Hunter had appeared, squatting before her, his green eyes watching balefully. Tira held out her hand. Hunter cocked his head, his gaze seeming to question her. “Can’t you help me up?” she growled from between gritted teeth. An opaque white membrane slid momentarily across his eyes, then retracted again.

“Fine.” Tira struggled into a sitting position. She wiped her dusty hands against her thigh, leaving a reddish-brown streak on her golden skin.A streak? But the ground is dry. Tira brought her hands up before her and opened them. As she watched, pinpoints of moisture welled from the dozens of visible pores that now dotted her palms. “Breathe,” she whispered to herself as panic threatened. “Just breathe.”

She looked up at Hunter. He was watching her closely, the air of expectancy renewed. His wide mouth with its narrow lips seemed to be turned up at the corners, as though he were amused. “What have you done?” Tira whispered.

Once again, nothing but silent regard.

Tira swallowed hard. Reluctantly, but knowing it was the only way she was likely to receive any answers, she held out her right hand, palm down. “Pray Gaia it doesn’t hurt this time,” she murmured.

Hunter sat, crossing his legs before him as she had done. He reached out and Tira stiffened, bracing herself against what might occur.

Their palms met. For several moments, nothing happened, then a not-unpleasant tingling tickled her palm. To Tira’s astonishment, her mind filled with images, apparently flowing into her from Hunter’s touch.

Looking up into the sky, the ak’ba Zsen’da watched an approaching hachlut. But no, this was not a hachlut. He and Szerba waited curiously while the strange vehicle landed. An opening appeared in its side, and he stared, feeling his palms dampen as emotion rose within him. Triumph! He had known this day would come in his lifetime. The ava-stryk’na had come. He grasped Szerba’s left hand in his right. “We must welcome them.” They stepped forward together, but eagerness quickly became revulsion as they both realized that the beings approaching them were wrapped in cloth.

Deep, abiding loathing welled within him. Abruptly, he and Szerba averted their faces. Anger and disappointment mingled in their veins as they turned and hurried away. The first ava-stryk’na to come to Zsen’da, and they were zheyra! The zsebek va’ano would not be one of the zheyra.

Tira swayed briefly and pulled her hand away. The images disappeared -- she was herself again. Hunter rolled his shoulders and made an angry sound -- half growl, half hiss -- baring his sharp teeth. His tongue whipped out, wrapping around her wrist, pulling it up and holding her hand in place as he pressed his palm to hers again.

Tira closed her eyes as another wave of alien memory flooded her vision. Images of Hunter as a boy, with a female Sepian, learning the language. Slowly at first, then more and more rapidly, the images flickered past.

Language.Tira straightened and began concentrating fully on the images in her mind.He’s teaching me.

Hunter seemed to sense that he finally had her full awareness. The thoughts and images slowed.

Hachlut: a sleek, oval pod lifting into the sky. The Sepian equivalent to a human extra-planetary shuttle.

Stryk’na:the People. Images of Sepians.

Ava-stryk’na: Not-stryk’na. Not-People. The Sepian word for alien.

Zheyra. Tira trembled with the force of negative emotion attached to this word. Jumbled images, warring emotions. She couldn’t make sense of it.

There was more. Names for household furnishings. For the homes themselves. For vegetation, the ground, the sky. Hunter was performing some sort of memory transfer, Tira realized. She drank in the information, letting it sink into her the way she absorbed the information on data-chips before an assignment. For hours she sat there, her hand trapped in his, learning, until finally her shoulders trembled with exhaustion.

Abruptly, Hunter let go, his tongue freeing her hand. Tira felt herself swaying, and he reached out. Gathering her in his arms, he stood and carried her to the bed.

“Ve anai,” he said.Forgive me . “E’o k’nel oba.”I was over-long .

Tira tried to say it didn’t matter, that it was worth it, but her mouth wouldn’t obey her and she couldn’t keep her eyes open. The memory of her body cradled in his arms was the image she carried with her into sleep.

 

 

 

Chapter 3

 

Tira woke to a wonderful fragrance that made her stomach rumble and her mouth water. She pushed herself up gently, happy when the room remained stationary. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, remembering the distance and lowering herself slowly to keep from being jarred. She took a cautious step. Her legs were still weak, but she could walk. Feeling much more like a person again, she followed her nose through the arch to her left and down a short, domed tunnel.

From the outside and on heevee, the domed abodes seemed small, but the opposite was true. It made sense, really. The Sepians were so tall that high-arched ceilings were an absolute necessity. And the rooms weren’t really like half-bubbles. They were round, yes, but with high, straight walls capped by domes. Cylinderstopped with half-bubbles.

Tira passed a couple of arched openings to her left, then stopped and glanced into one on her right. The enticing aroma was definitely emanating from this room, and she stepped inside. Hunter stood at a strange-looking console -- something Tira had not yet learned the Sepian name for. He vigorously stirred the contents of a shallow pan made of a brilliant white material.

Wincing, Tira shaded her eyes with one hand. Compared to her room, the kitchen seemed unbearably bright. Glancing up, she saw a small, circular, tinted skylight letting in a slightly muted version of Cass-V’s searing brightness. Her ocular mods finally kicked in, and her eyes adjusted.

“You should not be up.” Tira started as Hunter’s deep, rasping tones seemed to vibrate her bones. “Kr’ak-nais difficult, and there is more to come.”

Tira realized with amazement that he was speaking his own language, and she was understanding. With the exception of that one word. “What iskr’ak-na ?” She had a hard time duplicating the strange clicking sound after the ‘r’.

Hunter had turned and was watching her intently with those strangely vibrant, overly large eyes. Tira frowned as a shiver of unexpected emotion coursed through her.Desire? Ridiculous! She was a professional. Yes, the Sepian way of greeting a newcomer just happened to be somewhat arousing. She wouldnot allow that strange beginning to interfere with her job here.

To mask her confusion, she walked over to the large rock that apparently served as a table. Turning, she backed up to one of the stone seats and placed her palms on it, meaning to raise herself up onto it.

With a smooth grace, Hunter moved -- so quickly that Tira was perched upon the rock, the hand that had lifted her still wrapped around her waist, almost before the movement registered. “Ves’sa anoi,” she murmured breathlessly.Thank you. Though her clicks sounded more like she was choking, she nevertheless was speaking Sepian without even thinking about it. Tira shuddered as the thought sank in.

Hunter’s grip on her waist tightened. He crouched, putting his eyes on a level with hers, and she found herself drowning once more in those bright emerald depths. “Are you frightened?” he asked.

“Yes.”But not of you , she thought.Never of you .

The sudden conviction that he would never do anything to harm her was surprising, and yet she was certain it was true.

“You have no need of fear,” he said. “You arezsebek va’ano .”

Va’ano. The one. But she didn’t recognize the other word. “Zsebek?”

Hunter’s gaze seemed to turn inward. “Your word… would be… zhozen.”

Tira frowned. “Zhozen?” Her mind was whirling.He had learned from her as well! Learned Human language during their contact. She needed time. Time to assimilate what this might mean for Sepian-Human relations. This would not necessarily be welcomed with open arms by the ASB.

“One who is… pik’d.” Hunter’s mouth stumbled over unfamiliar words.

“One who is…” Her mind finally made the necessary connections. “Oh!Chosen .”

“Yes.” Hunter cocked one arm forward in a strange gesture of assent.

“TheChosen One ?” she repeated.

“Yes.”

Uh-oh.Tira didn’t like the sound ofthat . Being a ‘chosen’ of any sort on an alien planet was hardly ever good news. “What iskr’ak-na ?” she asked again, remembering that he had never answered her earlier question.

Hunter thought for a moment, then clicked his tongue. “No word now.”

He hadn’t picked up enough of her language yet to explain. Tira stared down at her hands, wondering whether it would be wise to try learning more so soon. She had a sudden thought. “Hey! How come we’re talking without touching palms?”

“Zsebek va’ano zsome ak’ba Zsen’da.”

Tira stared at him, frustrated. “I don’t know what that means.”

Hunter’s grip on her waist, which she had nearly forgotten, relaxed and he seemed almost to be caressing her. “It means we have nothing to fear in each other, you and I.”

Tira opened her mouth to ask another question, but Hunter released her and turned away. “Too soon,” he said, returning to his cooking. “Eat. Then talk.”

Her waist seemed unusually cold after his warm touch. Tira’s nerves practically hummed with impatience. She wantedmore . More of the language. More of the history.More of his touch? her mind chided.

Shit!Tira scooted around to lean her elbows on the table, burying her face in her hands. X-L’s worked closely with the races humans had encountered. There was an inherent danger of getting too close to the contact.Like Vera had done with Kalys. But this wasn’t a situation where she had worked with someone closely for months on end, struggling to find a common ground, to establish a dialogue. She barely knew this… entity.

An unfamiliar feeling of unease settled over her. She tried to ignore it, but the feeling grew. By the time Hunter returned and sat down at the table, Tira was in a state of severe anxiety.

Hunter pulled her hands away from her face, then tilted her head upward with one strong finger, forcing her to meet his penetrating gaze. “Everything will be fine.” His lips parted in the first smile she had seen on a Sepian.At least, I hopeit’s a smile, Tira thought, staring wide-eyed at the double row of sharp, bone-white teeth he bared. “Soon, you will know all.” He released her chin. “Eat.”

Tira studied the mixture arranged on the disk of translucent stone before her. Some sort of ground meat and tiny orange seeds. “Humans might not --”

“You can eat,” he rasped. To her surprise, he rested a damp, cool palm on her right thigh, his six taloned digits resting lightly upon the skin of her left. Immediately, the feeling of restless anxiety disappeared. Carefully, Tira reached for the three-pronged scoop beside her dish.

She had seen war, been trapped on hostile planets, had even been attacked by zealot aliens who believed she was a demon of some sort. None of that had frightened her nearly as badly as her responses to the creature whose hand now rested in her lap.

* * *

The meal was surprisingly tasty, though a bit gritty. The red sand seemed to get into everything. Tira waited with the pessimism of a seasoned veteran for the debilitating cramps that must occur when her body rejected the foreign sustenance. Yet by the time she had cleared her plate, nothing of the sort had happened. And she was still hungry. She glanced over toward the appliance Hunter had used to prepare the food.

Hunter’s hand flexed in her lap, his silky-smooth fingers caressing her. Tira cursed the goose bumps that rose on her flesh. “Too much,” Hunter said. “It is better to eat again in a short while.”

Tira nodded. Hunter stood, removing the platters of thin, polished stone. Tira watched as he scrubbed them with a handful of sand, then placed them in another small appliance and pressed a button. Behind the dark glass, Tira saw a flash, then Hunter removed the dishes, now spotlessly clean, and placed them with their fellows on a shelf jutting out from the wall. As she waited, the strange anxiety that she had experienced before returned, growing from a small kernel into a huge knot that settled itself in the center of her stomach.

Hunter stepped over and lifted her from the rock, setting her gently on the ground. “Come. Now we talk.”

He guided her back to the room she was beginning to think of as hers, his hand resting on her back. When they arrived, he moved away and sat cross-legged on the floor in the middle of the room, gesturing for Tira to do the same.

When she had arranged herself across from him, he held out his left hand. Tira’s palms were sweaty. She started to rub them against her thighs, but then sat staring at them instead. No, it wasn’t sweat -- it was that oily, faintly sharp-smelling substance coming from pores in her hand that she didn’t have before. Tira suppressed a shiver. It hadn’t really sunk in earlier -- the fact that somehow he had changed her. Closing her eyes, she performed the short series of Calming Gestures as she tried to focus her mind and quell the rising fear. When she opened her eyes, Hunter was staring at her intently. She started at the sight of his pupils narrowed to vertical slits, surrounded by a broad expanse of iris like huge, glittering emeralds. She laughed nervously. With him, it seemed like she was always either drowning in the black holes of his pupils, or struggling to escape that bright emerald gaze. A man of extremes, Hunter. Aworld of extremes, come to think of it.

Before she could speak, Hunter reached out and took her hand in his. Tira wondered again exactly what it meant to be this world’s ‘chosen one’. Then the information started pouring into her mind and pushed out any other thoughts.

Images of the People. Thoughts. Deeds. Day-to-day life of the entity known as Hunter -- seen through his eyes. Slowly, more complicated concepts filtered through. Bits of science. Concepts of art. Rituals. The images came faster now. At some point, she realized she wasn’t seeing through Hunter’s eyes anymore, but the eyes of another. His father? Yes. Then his grandfather.

Tira realized abruptly what she was seeing. Racial memory. The Sepians had the ability to pass their memories from one generation to the next. A rare ability, but not unheard of. Tira had encountered the gift before, in her work for the XTU. As she watched these images pass through her mind’s eye, Hunter spoke, her brain somehow matching his words and explanations to the images in her head.

Abruptly, the images stopped. Tira blinked rapidly, then realized that Hunter had taken his hand away. “How are we doing that?” she asked. “Communicating?” She stared at her hands again. “Chemical signatures?” She looked up into his eyes. “What did you do to me?” His pupils dilated, drawing her into their dark depths. Wordlessly, he reached out again, and Tira pressed her palm to his.

The ak’ba Zsen’da lolled on his rock, turning his face to the warmth of the sun. He opened his book, the low-pitched whirring of d’ogas a pleasant sound in the background. He read only a few words, however, before a strange scent reached his nostrils. The scent of the ava-stryk’na. Closing his book, he stared toward a sunblossom tree to his left across the path.

It was one of the foreign zheyra. The zheyra stepped out from behind the tree and strode up to him boldly, though he could destroy her with a single talon to the gut.

Tira winced at the casual nature of this thought. This time, Hunter’s thoughts were less jumbled, and Tira picked up a little more of the meaning.Zheyra . The Betrayers. The Destroyers.The Ones Who Hid . She shook her head, forcing herself back into the flow of information

But no, this one was not zheyra. This one was not Hidden. The ak’ba Zsen’da flared his nostrils again. Yes. This one smelled different. This ava-stryk’na was offering itself to him. He trembled in anticipation. Yes! He had been certain all his life that the Task was his. That the ava-stryk’na who would become kr’stryk’na would appear in his lifetime, and the Work would begin.

Offered myself? How did I offer myself?Tira wondered, drawn out of the vision yet again. Before her, Hunter inhaled deeply, his body quivering with excitement, and she understood. Even then, as now, she had been moist from staring at his unexpectedly inviting member and wondering what it would be like… he had scented her desire. But why would the pheromones of an off-worlder be recognized by this alien? Tira pushed the thought aside, to be examined later, returning her concentration to his memories.

Hunter stood and began the Tasting.

This time, Tira was able to keep a little bit of herself separate from the flow, seeing more as an observer, rather than as Hunter himself. Tira felt heat rising in her cheeks, flushing her neck, as she watched herself through his eyes. Hunter was doing more than tasting her, he was gathering her Essence into himself. Tira drew in a sharp breath as she realized all that was taking place in his body -- things that she was now aware of, here in his memories. His body was analyzing Tira’s sweat, her dead skin cells -- reading her very DNA. At the same time, he was responding to her scent, to her desire. She felt his member rise and thicken, felt theazs’bak-jurid flowing within him.

As his body processed the last amino acid and her DNA sequence fell into place in the Pattern of memory, his excitement increased exponentially. The Chosen One!

Tira started at the fierce joy contained within this thought, but struggled to remain focused on the images. In her mind’s eye, shewas Hunter.

The Chosen One of the Heart of Dust. It was all he could do to keep from anointing her with the azs’bak-jurid at that very moment. But no, the beginning of the kr’ak-na must come first.

Tira’s body was reacting to Hunter’s excitement, her nipples aching, her pussy growing wet. It was so unique, to see herself as this strange being saw her. To feel his desire, running thick and hot in her veins, carried by the chemical messengers traveling from palm to palm, body to body, mind to mind. With a shudder -- whether of anxiety or anticipation, she wasn’t quite sure -- she dove back into the memory.

It was so hard to resist impaling her, when his member was throbbing, and his Chosen was eyeing the glistening fluids at its tip hungrily, her tiny tongue peeking for a moment between her soft, full lips. As his body began manufacturing the Messengers necessary to begin the kr’ak-na, he inhaled deeply again. Ah, yes. The scent of his mate’s arousal permeated the air around them. He could not resist the urge to Taste it.

The vision wavered, and suddenly Tira was sitting across from Hunter once more, his swollen sex dominating the space between them, his hands no longer pressed to hers. He breathed deeply, his snake-like tongue testing the air. Tira could smell it, too -- her hot, wet pussy scenting the room. She should fight this. She had the feeling that a relationship with this being would be both wonderful and terrible. She teetered on the brink, like a doom-seeker balanced on the top of the Ride of the Gods on the thrill-planet Barto, looking down at the sheer, three-hundred-mile drop to the valley floor. And yet, she stepped onto the ride, knowing it might be the end of all that she was.

Tira moved, up onto her knees. Orange pearls beckoned from the tip of Hunter’s towering member. Tira looked into his emerald-bright eyes as she tested one droplet with her tongue. The taste was fruity and sweet, with just a hint of tartness. Hunter’s pupils expanded, nearly obscuring his iris completely. Tira let herself be drawn into the dark depths as she glided her tongue just above his flesh, skimming the juices from him without actually touching the bulbous tip.

Hunter hissed, his tongue whipping out to cradle her head. He drew her into him until her tongue touched his fevered flesh. He sighed, a sigh that became a groan as Tira opened her mouth, covering him, sucking eagerly at the nectar seeping from his loins. Tira leaned into him, pressing her breasts tight against his ribbed staff. His tongue slipped down over her shoulder, the forked tip following the curve of her left breast to find the hard, hot nub at its peak. Tira drew in a sharp breath as the twin tips danced feather-light across the taut pebble. Then they wrapped around it -- twisting, pulling -- as the rest of his tongue undulated against her.

Tira gasped, inadvertently scraping her teeth across the taut dome from which she suckled. The sound Hunter made -- a deep groan-hiss-sigh of pleasure -- vibrated through her. Tira looked up. “You like that, do you?”

In answer, Hunter’s tongue abandoned her breast to tangle in her hair and push her against him. Tira grasped his long rod with both hands. Squeezing. Exploring the hills and valleys of its ribbed length as she covered him again and drank greedily. She scraped her teeth firmly across his bulging head as she sucked. His grip on her hair tightened. He began to move his hips, using the palm of one hand to press her fingers even tighter against him. In sudden inspiration, Tira let go briefly to scoop up sand from the floor. She held him, rolling her sand-filled palms back and forth as though warming them, up and down his entire quivering length.

With an ululating cry, Hunter exploded into her mouth. His fruity essence gushed forth, and Tira struggled to swallow. She didn’t want to lose one precious drop -- but there was somuch, coming forth from a dozen openings in his broad head. She drank frantically, and succeeded. All of it. All of his Essence, flowing into her. Golden nectar that assuaged a hunger she had never realized she had until that very moment.

The flood faded to a trickle and finally stopped. Tira sat back. At some point, Hunter’s tongue had loosened its hold. She glanced up, faint heat flushing her cheeks, suddenly embarrassed. Hunter’s eyes were obscured by a milky white film and he sat, rigid, barely breathing as far as she could tell. “I -- Is something wrong?”

The opaque membrane slid back. Hunter’s dilated pupils fixed on her. “Tell me why you did that.”

Tira felt her cheeks burning. “I… because I thought you wanted --” She looked away, mortified.Hadn’t it been him as much as her?

Hunter’s hand captured hers. In an instant, his memory of her touch began running through her mind.

Hunter’s Chosen sucked greedily on his staff, swallowing the azs’bak-jurid, a faint smile teasing the corner of her lips. Astonishment, then pleasure, washed over his body at the notion that she would take his seed inside her in that way.

Through the fog of memory transfer, Tira felt her nipples tightening painfully and tried to pull away, but Hunter held her hand fast.

Hunter watched the Sepian woman holding his member without emotion. The woman squatted before him, pumping his member vigorously, roughly, with her two huge hands. As he grunted suddenly, the female released him, stepping back, and his nectar spattered the dry dust.

What a waste!Tira thought to herself regretfully, hunger growing again in the pit of her stomach. As she watched, Hunter showed her many more such encounters -- quick, unemotional. Impersonal. Often very harsh, with scratching talons and biting teeth. It was the way things were with Sepians. Even the roughest of Tira’s touches were tender compared to their way. She sensed his confusion, his desire for more.

Tira pulled her hand away. She wanted to wrap him in her arms, to show him what love between two beingsshould be. Rising, Tira held out her hand. “Show me your room.”

* * *

Hunter rose and turned, grabbing her hand and pulling her along behind him. Tira almost had to run to keep up with his wide, rapid stride. He took her to a large domed room, its ceiling dotted with skylights. On a platform built up from the ground with large slabs of stone was a pad like that on her own bed, covered in some type of fur. Hunter hesitated, seeming lost.

Tira turned and backed up to the bed, pulling him after her. She looked up expectantly as she reached the edge and Hunter lifted her, setting her gently atop the soft fibers. Tira patted the surface next to her. “Lie down,” she commanded.

Hunter’s pupils slitted, and Tira felt a momentary pang of apprehension. She knew now that the Sepians were a highly patriarchal society. Females didnot tell males what to do. However, they were now venturing into territory unfamiliar to the confrontational Sepians, and Hunter was just going to have to learn to listen to her. She steeled her nerves and smiled. “Hunter, liedown .” She wetted her lips, eyeing his still-erect penis possessively. After a long moment, Hunter melted onto the bed in that majestic, fluid way he had of moving. His pupils were huge again, seeming to drink in the sight of her as she knelt beside him.

Tira began with his brow. Stroking. Massaging. Exploring. Her fingers memorized every nuance of his skull, every dip and bulge. She traced his elfin ears -- narrow, pointed, pressed back against his head. To her surprise, the skin flared, creating a carmine-colored, fan-like funnel to capture sound. Tira leaned down and ran her tongue lightly around the outer edge of the funnel. “How’s this?” she purred.

Hunter drew in his breath sharply.

Tira fluttered her tongue down along one rib of the fan, then circled the opening of his auditory canal, blowing gently. “Or this?”

She felt a thrilling sense of power as Hunter’s claws dug into the soft fur beneath them. “More.” His voice was deep and husky, pebbled with desire.

Tira feathered soft kisses across his brow and the sharply defined bridge of his nose, then tasted the flare of his other ear. Hunter groaned, his tongue reaching for her. “Not yet,” Tira whispered, pushing it away. “Patience, Hunter.”

The muscles beneath her hands, which were resting on his shoulders, quivered with the effort of holding back. Tira pressed her lips to his cheek, then drew them lightly across his smooth, silky skin. “This,” she said, “is a kiss.” She pressed her full, yielding lips against his wide, narrow, firm mouth. She parted them slightly, her darting tongue teasing the place where his lips met. Hunter’s own lips parted. As he drew in a sharp breath, Tira slipped her tongue inside his mouth. The sharp peak of a tooth scraped the underside of her tongue and she tasted blood, but she ignored that, although she took greater care as she explored further.So many teeth -- and so sharp!

Hunter was trembling beneath her. Tira found the forked tip of his tongue and ran her own in and out of the valley between the two tips. Hunter arched. The wet tip of his engorged head prodded her arm where she leaned over him.

Tira drew back, staring into his wide pupils as she scooted herself back and parted his legs so that she could kneel between them. She kissed the base of his quivering cock, and a slender arc of glistening orange fluid decorated his emerald belly. Tira reached out, prying his hands from the bed, lacing her fingers with his as she began kissing her way up his sixteen-inch staff, pausing to explore each valley and rill of his member with her tongue along the way.

The fluids on their hands mixed, and Tira saw herself, oddly delayed, as memory came to her a split-second after each action. Once again, she became Hunter.

Hunter looked down at this strange and wonderful being, worshipping the repository of his seed so gently. His body was fighting him, wanting to grab her, subdue her, force her to bring him to rapid, rough release. Yet this was so intoxicating -- Tira was taking him to heights never before explored, or even imagined. He tightened his control on hands itching to grab her hair and force her roughly onto his member. To lie there, submissive, and feel her gentle touch was utterly, painfully arousing. And each time he was unable to imagine feeling any more aroused, Tira pushed him even further up the cliff of ecstasy by nipping the peaks of the concentric rings around his member, or twisting her tongue in the sensitive valley between each one.

He groaned, then gasped as she reached the head of his erection and drew her teeth firmly but without pain across the top. Then she made her way back down, drawing her teeth across his shaft, moving in small increments as she worked her way back to where his three sacs hung. He spasmed as she took the middle sac into her mouth, surrounding it with wet warmth, caressing him with her tongue.

“Tira!” Hunter jerked his hands from her grasp.

Tira blinked as the vision disappeared abruptly. “Yes, Hunter?”

He reached for her, grabbing her shoulders in his strong hands.

Tira closed her eyes briefly as the tips of his claws pierced the skin of her back. “Hunter.” She opened her eyes and stared steadily into his. “Let go.”

He trembled, and the wild look in his eyes made it seem as though he were balanced on the edge of madness. She could tell he was having to fight his Sepian instincts, which she sensed, from what she now knew, were probably screaming at him to force her to do his bidding, to relieve him of his searing desire.

Tira reached up and pushed against his forearms. “Let go, Hunter.”

With a hiss, he did, burying his claws in the thick mattress beneath them. “Now,” she kissed the glistening orange head before her, “ask me.”

“Take my --”

Tira was shaking her head. “No, Hunter.Ask me.”

Everything in him, centuries ofstryk’na genetics, fought against this. The People had worked long and hard to bring their violent natures into check, had even tried to eradicate that part of them, but had only been marginally successful. The way of the predator was too far ingrained in their species. Even the women, who were bound to do as the males ordered, did so in a violent, vengeful way. Life on Dust was harsh, immediate, unforgiving, unemotional, even with the genetic modifications the scientists had imbedded in thestryk’na DNA.

The muscles in his legs twitched. He could wrap them around her -- crush her to him.Make her give him what he wanted. But then it would be just like the rest. He sifted through the memories gained from Tira. They called their joining “making love.”Love. It was an alien concept, with conflicting connotations of caring and jealousy, gentleness and fierce desire, protecting and being bound. They mated for life, these humans, or tried to. For Sepians, the Joining served two purposes only, to relieve the pressure of constantly holding their violence in check, and to produce offspring when required.

Yet, didn’t the prophecies translated from future-memories confirm that it would be different for him? That his bond with theava-stryk’na would be a Joining like no other? He was more convinced than ever that he was theak’ba Zsen’da marked by the prophecies. More would change than just Tira. The People would evolve as well, into something better able to serve Dust.

“P-pl’z,” he groaned, stumbling over the unfamiliar human word. “Pl’z drink of me like you did before.”

His twin hearts pounded at the sight of her radiant smile. “Your wish,” she murmured, “is my command.”

Her warm mouth enveloped him, her tongue swirling round and round as she inched down. She worked her lips past six ridges, taking him as deep as she could. This appeared to be too much for Hunter -- he exploded, his essence gushing as Tira swallowed frantically. He arched suddenly, forcing his staff deeper, pulsing against the back of her throat.

“E’o ko ak’ba Zsen’da,”he whispered hoarsely, when the last pulses had faded and Tira rested by his side.“E’a kai va zsek’ba.” I am the Heart of Dust. You are my Soul.

Tears gathered in Tira’s eyes. “Don’t say that.”

Hunter turned his head sharply. “Why?”

“We don’t even know each other,” she mumbled. “Not really.”Gaia, help me, she whispered silently.How can I be in love with this being I barely know?

“You will be mine.”

Tira sat up and turned to face him. “Hunter, I’m a Xeno-linguist for a Pan-Galactic organization. A translator and a negotiator. I’m here to do a job and then I have to go.” She brushed her tangled hair back from her face. “As a matter of fact, I need to contact the Overture Team right now. Let them know I’m all right.”

Hunter stared at her impassively.

“Will you work with me?” she asked. “Help me get a dialogue started between the ASB and Sepia?”

Hunter was quiet for so long that Tira was afraid the silencewas his answer. Then he shrugged his shoulder and grunted. “Yes.” He caught her chin in his hand. “But you will not leave,” he said softly. “You aremine.”

Tira’s heart pounded wildly. “I can’t make that promise, Hunter.”

He grinned suddenly, his mouthful of teeth seeming more threatening than amused. “You will see. The Joining has begun. It cannot be stopped.” He let go and stood in one fluid movement. “Go. Tell them we will teach. Tell them we will learn. But nozheyra.”

Tira nodded. “I will come to you this evening. I have neglected my duties. There is much to be done.”

 

 

 

Chapter 4

 

Jenn came running out of the outpost while Tira was still a hundred yards from the building. Chris, Zan, and several others followed more slowly. “Tira! Thank the One you’re okay!” Jenn hugged her tight, then studied her closely. “Youare all right?”

Tira smiled. “Yes. And we have a lot of work to do.”

“Debriefing first.” Zan signed both Relief and Reprimand.

“Of course.” Tira signaled Rueful Apology and followed him inside.

Debriefing was more difficult than Tira had envisioned. She did not want to tell Zan of the process by which she had learned so much in so short a time -- of the chemical-biological messengers that had invaded her body and changed her. There was too much paranoia in the ASB. They might quarantine Sepia before even giving its people a chance.

Instead she traded on her exemplary reputation, the exaggerated legends that had grown up around her seventy years of successful performance in the X-L league, implying that a combination of photographic memory and near-total recall had allowed her to build up an expansive Sepian vocabulary in just two days. When Zan asked about her illness, Tira quickly seized upon his own suggestion of an allergic reaction. She sensed that the director suspected more, but he seemed disinclined to pursue any additional questions he might have. Too anxious to log a success on Sepia, Tira suspected.

“So it’s imperative to bring in additional X-L’s.” She had just finished explaining the Sepians’ ingrained phobia of those who ‘hid’ themselves with clothing. “People who have not had contact with the Sepians previously, and understand what will be necessary in order to pursue a dialogue.”

Zan nodded. “I will send a data packet immediately. We can have additional team members here by tomorrow morning.”

“Good.” Tira had developed a sense of unease, a growing restlessness that was making her irritable. His questions were interminable, and she had spent three hours recording an audio dictionary of the Sepian vocabulary she had learned thus far.Patience, Tira. She knew it was costing Zan a great deal in terms of pride to know that he would not be able to be involved in face-to-face discussions with the Sepians. These debriefings and technical discussions would be his only insight into the Sepian culture.

“This is still your command, you know. The accolades will be yours.”

He waved away her concerns. “It is enough for me to know that a dialogue is now possible.” But she noticed he straightened his shoulders and carried his head higher.

A light flashed on the panel before him. “Speak.”

“Director, there is a Sepian approaching the entrance.”

Tira glanced at the chronometer. “Gaia! I didn’t realize how long we’d been speaking. That must be Hunter.” She stood quickly, nearly overwhelmed by a sudden urge to see him. To touch him.

Zan gestured Polite Curiosity.

“He seems to want to stay in close contact with me,” Tira explained, glad when the lack of warmth in her cheeks indicated she was successful at quelling the flush that threatened. “I’m to remain his guest… at least until I’m reassigned.” She was trembling with the need to getout there.

“I see.” Zan’s hands and expression remained still, but she could sense his curiosity had not been satisfied. “Well, we can do nothing to impair these relations, of course. You will return in the morning?”

“Definitely.” Without even making the usual polite signals of departure, she turned and fairly ran down the corridor and out into the Sepian twilight.

“Hunter!” She threw her arms around him and stood there shaking, not caring if the crew within the outpost saw them.

“Ssss.” Hunter caressed her hair, her back. “It is all right,va zsek’ba.”

“What’s wrong with me?” The wash of relief at feeling his arms around her brought tears to her eyes. “Will this happen every time we are separated?”

“It is theabe’wa.” The Yearning.

Not another strange Sepian compulsion,Tira thought. Please, Gaia. I am so confused!

“Come.” Hunter’s hand swallowed hers and he led her home.

Later, after Hunter had cooked another wonderful meal and served Tiraevra, a delicious liquor made from the nectar of the sunblossom trees, he took her out into the garden. Under the pale light of the double moons, he kissed her and drew her down onto the red soil.

Tira gazed up at the stars, half-remembered images of Hunter’s intimate encounters with Sepian women running through her mind. There was no courting. No quiet, gentle time. See a female, get hard. Demand release and receive it -- however rough. That was the Sepian way. Yet he seemed content, lying there with her.

“Hunter?”

A questioning grunt.

“How do you… Sepians that is. How do you procreate?” None of the images he had shown her had involved penetration. She was at a loss as to how the actual act took place.

“When it is time to foster offspring, we go to the hatchery. I… I have watched, but I have not participated, as yet. I have been waiting.” The wordsfor you seemed to hang, unspoken, in the air.

“Show me.” Tira raised her hand. After a moment’s hesitation, Hunter pressed his palm to hers.

Hunter’s father stepped up to the insemination dock. Placing his feet up against the wall as instructed, he pressed his hands to the panels directly before him. His back stiffened, and he closed his eyes as his member began to swell. Hunter was watching raptly. When his father’s staff stood plump and rigid, its head pressed up against a dome-shaped cap, a series of half-circles cradling small, pearly white, gelatinous-looking pebbles snicked out of the wall, encircling his member just below each ridge.

His father arched, choking out a hoarse cry. Then his nectar, guided by the cap, was cascading down, rippling over each ridge to collect in the cradling semi-circles, bathing the pebbles in orange luminescence. When it was done, a clear membrane slid over each cradle. The cradles opened, releasing him. Hunter’s father stepped away, and the cradles nested smoothly together, a technician suddenly appearing. He pressed a button and withdrew the stack, placing it in a labeled incubator to his right. Hunter’s father nodded to the technician, then led Hunter out.

Tira drew herself out of the memory, letting go of his hands to trace the lines of his rib cage with a delicate touch. “So, there’s no… physical contact involved between a female Sepian and a male during conception? How can that be?”

Hunter shifted against the sand. “It used to be different. The eggs were stored in a sac on the female, and inseminated directly by the males. But Sepia is a harsh environment. Fewer young resulted, and many did not survive.” He shifted again. “We are not a… I don’t know a word for it. I have seen it in your memories.” There was a long silence. “Nur-zhur-ing? Is that the word? Caring for another?”

“Nurturing. Yes.”

“Only when the scientists took responsibility for insemination and raising the young did the population on Dust increase. Before, many males and females died during mating. Once born, the young fought, and those who survived tended to be the most predatory, the most violent, perpetuating the cycle of Renewal followed too quickly by Destruction. Now, once impregnated, the embryos are monitored closely by our scientists, their DNA scoured of the most aggressive genes. The most promising are brought to term. Our population rises, but at a controlled rate and without constant war. We have not experienced a Fall in many centuries.”

Tira sat up, looking down at him. “I don’t understand.”

“What?”

“You have emotions, Hunter. I’ve felt them. Don’t males and females feel anything for each other? You speak of Joining -- is it really just a physical release now? Do none of you live together? Raise families?”

“Not for many centuries.” He stared up into the star-spangled darkness. “That type of Joining is too emotional. We have worked too long to tame the beast hidden inside, to halt our accelerated process of Renewal and Destruction. Our race was on the brink of perishing from this world. We have chosen to remove ourselves from situations that trigger the beast within.”

“So you avoid emotional situations. And prove to each other that you mean no harm by communicating your true thoughts with this chemical transfer of memories and emotion.” She held up her hand, then shook her head. “Your science is amazing, but I just don’t know. That’s one way to quell violence, but it seems an empty life to live. What about tenderness? Passion? Love? Sorrow? By avoiding so many things, you’re missing out on somuch. ”

“That is why we need you.” Hunter sat up, the stars reflecting in his huge, black pupils. “You will help us do what must be done.”

“I don’t understand,” Tira whispered.

“You will understand soon.” He reached out and captured her hair in his hands, letting it cascade through his fingers. “Show me,va zsek’ba. Show melove.”

Tira could not resist that star-kissed, liquid gaze. She glanced up to make sure they were out of range of the holographic observers in this secluded portion of his garden. “Lie down.” Hunter rested against the sand. She thought to herself that he had probably never had a massage in his life. She couldn’t wait to see how he might respond to one. “Roll over.”

Hunter immediately rolled onto his stomach. Tira smiled at the thought that she could command such instant responses. She glided her fingers along his back, tracing the contours of his bones beneath his silky skin. A slightly raised, serrated ridge ran down his spine. Tira ran her hand along it, touching each point lightly. Hunter shivered, moonlight dancing across the taut muscles of his butt. Tira bent and kissed one cheek softly, chuckling as he breathed in sharply.

She straddled him, sitting on his buttocks as she leaned forward and began to massage his shoulders, his back. Hunter moaned-hissed in enjoyment. Her blunt fingers glided across his smooth skin, teasing the furrows between each peak of the ridge. Tira bent, touching the crest of one ridge with her tongue. Hunter moaned quietly. “Do you like that?”

“Yes,” Hunter murmured thickly.

Tira traced the entire length of the ridge with her tongue, from neckline to base, wickedly delighted when Hunter had to shift to accommodate his growing erection. She came to the end of the ridge, investigating a shallow dimple at its base with her tongue.

Hunter grunted in surprise and thrust his hips back, pressing against her questing mouth. Tira felt a swelling in the dimple’s center. She teased it with her lips, coaxed it with her tongue. The swelling elongated, becoming a fat, cylindrical tube about five inches long. Tira investigated with her fingers, discovering a tight opening at its apex. She put her little finger in her mouth to wet it, then started to slip it inside.

Hunter rolled, grabbing her hand. “No.” He seemed very agitated. “It is -- it is not good. It is for --”

Tira clasped his hand. “Shhh. It’s all right.” She showed him a memory -- a memory of anal pleasure from a time long past. “I know what it’s for.” She pressed him back to the ground and caressed the thick protrusion. “But does this feel good?” She bent and traced the edges of the opening with her tongue, then enveloped the fleshy canal with her warm mouth.

“Tira!” Hunter bucked, his hand whipping back to trap her against him. She pressed her tongue into the taut pucker again and again, a little further each time. Hunter was gasping, writhing beneath her. Gaia, it was a turn-on -- to fuck his asshole the way she wanted her pussy to be fucked. Tira felt a damp touch on her buttock, then his tongue was between her cheeks, seeking her human counterpart to his Sepian anus.

“Yes!” Tira gasped, sitting up as Hunter’s tongue teased the tight pucker. She reached down and parted her cheeks, moaning. First one, then the other slender fork of his tongue tasted her. Tira let go as soon as they were both inside her, rocking her hips as the questing ribbon rippled and undulated, inching deeper.

She grasped his swollen anus and wet her finger again. Carefully, as gently as possible, she pressed the finger past his tight rim. Hunter bucked slightly. Tira moaned as his tongue crept ever deeper into her ass. Slowly at first, then faster, matching the rhythm of her finger to the rhythm of her hips, she penetrated him over and over, fucking him with her finger the way he was fucking her with his tongue.

“Tira!”

She moved, sliding off him. He turned quickly, expecting her to swallow his bulging head with her mouth, but she mounted him. He stared at her in astonishment as she held his towering member, lowering herself upon it.

He was so thick! Tira concentrated, relaxing her lower body, letting gravity carry her down. She winced as the first rib stretched her almost more than she could bear, then felt blessed relief as it slipped past her vaginal opening and his swollen tip nestled inside her.

Hunter arched, crying out in delight as her warm, pliant flesh enfolded his throbbing head. Tira clenched her muscles tight around him, rewarded by a hissing gasp.

“Tira, it’s --” Hunter moaned, squirming beneath her.

It was a powerful feeling, to know that she could affect him so deeply. “What, love?”

“Soft and wet,” he groaned. “Warm.” He looked up at her with those eyes -- pupils swollen with lust, looking like glistening black pearls. “Never have I felt like this before.” His hands clutched at the sand. “I want more!”

Tira twisted ever so slightly back and forth, working herself down past two more ribs. “Mmmm,” she murmured. “That feels so good.” It was sheer bliss, to be stretched so tightly that she had to bite back a scream, then to feel a brief moment of relief as her lips kissed the valley between, then stretching to the point of pleasure bordering on pain again. It took all her self-control to go slowly, to stretch out these moments of pleasure for both of them.

“Pl’z,va zsek’ba. ” Hunter arched slightly. “Pl’z! I must… I must --” His voice broke, and he arched even further, his talons digging into the earth beneath them.

Tira’s pussy ached with pleasure. A throbbing drumbeat deep inside demanded more, more, more. Tears of frustration made their way down her cheeks. She wanted to take him. All of him. “Hunter,” she gasped.

Like liquid silver, he flowed, and then Tira was beneath him. Clearly unable to control his need any longer, he grabbed her shoulders and drove himself into her.

Tira screamed, her pussy stretching painfully as he bore down.

A light breeze blew cold against a wetness on Tira’s cheeks. She looked up and realized with shock that Hunter was crying.

“I’m sorry,” he rasped in her ear, even as he drove himself deeper. “Imust be inside you!”

Tira could tell he wanted to stop, but some primal need was driving him on. Gasping, she bit her lip to keep another cry from escaping as he pushed inexorably deeper.Gaia, but it hurt! Yet her desire was mounting, and she surprised herself by raising her legs. Planting her heels against his buttocks, she pressed her hips up to meet his, adding her strength to his, eager to take as much of him as possible.

There was a sudden deep pain as his head met resistance, nudging up against her uterus.Gaia, yes! Tira glanced down. Three-quarters of his sixteen-inch length was stuffed inside her. For a long moment, they rested, trembling and exhausted.

But Tira’s pussy was throbbing. Wanting more. Needing more. Wrapping her legs tight around Hunter’s buttocks, she gripped his hands and brought them to her waist. “Hold me,” she commanded. Hunter wrapped his taloned fingers around her. “Now. Fuck me, Hunter.”

He seemed at a loss. It occurred to Tira that she had subconsciously kept the memories of previous sexual encounters to herself, with the exception of the brief moment of anal pleasure she had allowed him to see earlier. It seemed as though she had known from the beginning that their relationship would be much more than two species searching for a common language, and had not necessarily wanted him to know of others. “Move your hips up and down,” she urged.

Hunter moved his hips back slowly. “Mmmm.” Tira’s pussy sucked at each rib as it retracted, her lips expanding and relaxing in perfect harmony with her pulsating need. She stopped him before he withdrew completely. “In!” she commanded. There was pain again as he thrust, but the throbbing only heightened Tira’s desire. “Faster,” she whispered, her voice husky with desire and desperation. “Faster, Hunter!”

A spear of pleasure pierced her to the core as his lengthy cock plunged in and out, the rills and valleys scratching her incredible itch. Tira’s pussy tingled deliciously, conforming to him, enfolding him like a second skin. Faster and faster he moved, as she urged him on with cries of delight.

“Yes, Hunter. Yes!” She wrapped her arms round his neck, kissing the tears from his face. “Fuck me, Hunter. Fuck me!”

With one more massive thrust, Hunter buried as much of his length as was possible inside her. Tira’s pussy contracted frantically against the feverish shaft buried inside her, as a painfully intense orgasm washed through her. She cried out, looking into Hunter’s eyes.

The animal hunger she saw there made her heart skip a beat, then his pupils disappeared behind a milky membrane, and she felt his cock pulsing inside her. “Oh yes, Hunter,” she murmured softly. “Yes.” He shuddered, and she cried, “Come for me, baby!”

Liquid fire flooded Tira’s loins, pouring into her as Hunter undulated, sending wave after wave of delicious heat sweeping through her. Tira arched in ecstasy, climaxing again, Hunter writhing and twisting as her pussy clutched him, wringing every precious drop from his quivering length. Hunter arched, singing to the stars as her fertile body drank in the seed of his love.

* * *

Hunter awoke as the first harsh rays of Cass-V crept past the horizon. For a moment, he did not know where he was, then memory of the night before came rushing back and he looked down at the woman nestled against him. When he had met her, he had thought her a tiny, fragile thing. Yet she was strong, commanding, unusual -- in just a few days, she had managed to captivate him completely. A perfect match for the Heart of Dust. His pride should be greatest in knowing that he was the Heart foretold in memory -- the Hand of Dust in the coming Task. Yet such was not the case. Far more important -- irrationally, unexpectedly -- was the knowledge that this woman loved him.

Love -- such an alien concept in his restrictive society, and yet his days seemed brighter, scents sharper, colors more vivid. He never suspected he could feel so much strong emotion without an accompanying desire to subdue and conquer. Although, it wasn’t that the desire was missing, exactly. It was that his love was stronger. He hoped never to hurt Tira again as he had last night. Memory of the wetness on his face had him touching his cheeks in wonder. He had cried for her. Never, in any of his living memories, had he seen a Sepian cry. He wouldn’t even understand the term if not for the knowledge gained from Tira.

With a soft sigh, Tira stirred beside him. He waited until her eyes were open and she smiled. “More?” he asked hopefully. His twin hearts beat erratically in anticipation of her answer. His love grinned wickedly and Hunter thought that nothing could ever look quite so beautiful again.

Tira eyed Hunter from beneath her eyelashes, noting his rapid breathing, his expanded pupils. Again she felt that surge of power. She stretched languidly, then spread her legs wide. “Oh yes, baby,” she murmured huskily. “Definitelymore.”

Her lover moved to mount her, but she stopped him with a hand to his chest.

“Kiss me,” she whispered.

Hunter started toward her lips, but Tira shook her head. Reaching between her legs, she pulled her labia apart. “Down here,” she commanded. “Kiss me with that magical tongue.”

Tira watched with eager expectation as he moved back between her legs, fascinated by the way his pupils widened as he inhaled her scent.

His tongue flicked out, the twin forks teasing her clit until it was plump and buzzing with hot desire.

“Do what you did before, when you --” Tira gasped as Hunter responded even before she finished, seeming to know instinctively what she meant, sliding one fork of his tongue neatly beneath the clitoral hood to probe the sensitive nub directly. “Oh, Gaia.” Spears of pleasure lanced up from her groin. “Hunter, yes!”

Tira closed her eyes, her entire being centered on that one point of ecstasy. The other fork of Hunter’s tongue slipped down along her clit, then teased the very edge of her vagina. Tira moaned, wanting something -- anything -- inside her. “Touch me, Hunter. Please.”

The blunt tip of his sixth-claw circled just inside her raw lips. Tira wiggled her hips impatiently, wanting him deeper, then arched as her movements caused the fork pleasuring her clit to press into it, hard and abrupt. “Oh! Oh, Gaia!” Tira cried out as her pussy clenched in response to a quick, brutal orgasm. “Oh, Gaia,” she repeated.

The sensation faded quickly, leaving her pussy weeping, still aching to be filled. “Hunter, please,” Tira begged. “I need something inside me. Now!”

His tongue probed her wet slit.

“No,” Tira moaned. “Something hard, Hunter!”

He straddled her, but Tira shook her head. “I can’t, Hunter. I’m too sore for that huge cock.”

Hunter bared his teeth in exasperation.

“I’m sorry.” Tira reached out and held one of his hands in hers, stroking it with gentle fingers. “Please, Hunter. Something cool and hard.”

He appeared lost in thought for a moment, then stood abruptly, disappearing into the house. Tira groaned, reaching between her legs to slip a finger between her raw but hungry folds.

Hunter returned, holding one of the tall, slender, fluted glasses they had sippedevra from the night before. He held it out, cocking his head in question.

The polished, smooth quartz gleamed rose and gold in the breaking dawn. The glass was slightly bulbous at the base, then narrowed past the middle and flared like a sunblossom flower at the tip.

Tira nodded, shuddering as she withdrew her finger from her pussy. Hunter held the glass toward her.

Tira shook her head. “You do it, Hunter.”

Though she wouldn’t have thought it possible, his pupils dilated even further, to the point where Tira could not see even a faint rim of iris. He was panting hard, and Tira realized with delight that he was as horny as she, caressing his swollen member roughly as he sat down beside her. She reached out, grasping his hands. “Slowly,” she murmured. “Like this.” Hunter moaned as she loosened his hold and calmed his pace.

Reaching between her legs, Hunter pressed the bottom of the glass against her pussy. Tira groaned when it wouldn’t slide past her swollen lips.

Hunter’s tongue danced around the edges of her pussy, lubricating her lips, then dipped deep inside, capturing her juices. Pulling it out, he wrapped the glass, coating it with the slick fluid. He placed the flared end in his mouth, holding it between his teeth, and knelt between her legs.

Tira felt his blunt sixth-claws at the edges of her lips, and then cool air as he held her wide open. Watching her, he rocked forward.

Cool and smooth, the narrow bulb entered Tira easily. “Oh, yes.” Tira caught her lower lip between her teeth, trembling with pleasure as Hunter pressed the object into her until his lips tickled her bush.

Releasing the glass, he straightened. Tira found herself mesmerized by the dark pools of his eyes. He grasped the glass gently with one hand and grinned.

The glass rotated inside her, slowly, as Hunter watched her face. “Yes,” she moaned, thrusting her hips up. “Oh, yes. That feels so nice.” The cool quartz was soothing against her raw tissues. “Very nice.”

Hunter growled, once again pumping his cock vigorously.

Tira reached out a hand. “Shhh,” she whispered. She covered his hand with hers. “Easy, lover.” She guided his hand along his cock.

Within minutes, he was gasping, uttering sharp cries of delight as she reminded him of just how wonderful a gentle touch could be.

Hunter’s eyes wandered back to her pussy. Licking his lips, he grinned wickedly, making Tira shiver in anticipation. In time to the slow, languid caresses he gave his cock, he began moving the improvised dildo in and out of her pussy very gently.

His breathing quickened again as he watched himself fuck her, his gaze glued to the hollow between her legs. It made her nipples ache, to see how much this turned him on.

Tira reached up and captured the hard, ripe nubs between her fingers. Pinching them tightly, she rolled them back and forth between her thumb and forefinger as she bucked her hips, trying to make him go faster.

Hunter bared his teeth in a grin, seeming to take pleasure in witnessing her desperation, but maintaining his slow, easy pace as his pupils seemed to twinkle with mischief.

Tira goaned. “Please, Hunter.”

With a hissing chuckle, he buried the glass halfway, then stopped.

“Please,” Tira choked out.

Hunter cocked his head. Teasingly, he jiggled the glass up and down. “Gaia!”

He jiggled the glass again, this time left to right. Then, watching her closely, he rotated the glass in wide, quick circles as he began plunging it in and out of her pussy rapidly. “Yes!” Tira sobbed. “Oh, yes!”

With one swift movement, he straddled her. He was facing her pussy, his thighs embracing her head, his cock trapped between his body and hers.

“Yes!” Tira cried out as he moved himself forward and back, milking his cock between his chest and her abdomen.

Tira reached up, finding again that slight depression at the base of his spine. Within seconds, she had his anus protruding, thick and inviting as a human cock. Hunter cried out thickly as Tira surrounded him with her mouth, moving faster as she plunged her tongue into the beckoning pucker, sucking gently.

Tira’s world narrowed to one of sensation only. Smooth, cool glass pounding her pussy. Hunter’s rock-hard, ribbed cock pummeling the valley between her breasts, plowing into her abdomen. Feather-light touches of Hunter’s tongue at her crotch as he lapped up the juices escaping her pussy. The cock-like anus, thick and warm in her mouth, swelling and contracting tightly against her tongue as she tasted it.

Hunter raised his head to the sky, uttering his ululating song. His rough hands parted her ass-cheeks, and his dull sixth-claw pushed inside her anus.

“Mmmm,” Tira hummed with her tongue buried inside him.

Hunter gasped and began plunging his sixth-claw in and out of her anus, his rhythm matching the strokes of her tongue, sending surge after surge of sweet sensation out to crash against the storms engendered by every other touch.

It was too much! Tira arched and pressed her legs together tightly, trapping Hunter’s arm so that their wonderful glass toy stayed buried inside her as spasm after spasm of pure delight ripped through her body.

Hunter’s cock erupted, bathing Tira’s abdomen, crotch, and thighs in liquid warmth, tickling as it trickled down the valley beneath her pussy to pool around Hunter’s submerged finger.

The last of the sun’s rim rose above the horizon, and Tira welcomed its radiance, joining Hunter in a song of delight, not caring who heard them.

 

 

 

Chapter 5

 

Each day for the next three weeks, Hunter accompanied Tira to a special habitat that had been set up outside the Outpost. Only human X-L’s who had never been seen aszheyra were allowed to enter. On the first day, Hunter had mentioned that theKo’ -- the Keeper of Dust -- had agreed to send hisko’eba to work with the team. The Keeper was part librarian, part religious leader. Theko’eba were the Keeper’s assistants, helping him to maintain the vast Archive of Dust. This had turned out to be an excellent suggestion, as the texts provided covered the gamut of Sepian language, culture, and beliefs, though in very broad terms.

By the end of the third week, Tira had learned several disturbing things. One: the Sepian race-memory had begun to contain elements of the future several centuries past. Two: the Sepians believed that not only their world, but every other world and all things upon and within them, were made up of Dust. As far as she could tell, Dust was a small, complex molecule for which the functions described reminded her of nothing so much as nanobots, but the Sepians believed these particular nanobots were parts of one vast intelligence that coded for every living and non-living physical presence in the universe -- like the Earth’s God or her own planet Sonjean’s Gaia, only not embodied by one entity, but by billions. In addition, they believed that Sepia -- orDust, as they called it -- was the birthplace of this being. That all things came from Dust -- the entityand the planet.

Three: Tira had begun to suspect that the texts presented for translation and clarification had been very carefully chosen, and meant particularly for her. Many spoke of Dust and its role in the universe. Many also spoke of a great Task the People must accomplish. Of a danger which would threaten the universe, a danger which could only be halted by the Heart of Dust and his Chosen -- anava-stryk’na who would come and join the People, becomingkr’stryk’na. Of the People. However, numerous pages of the texts were missing, as though Tira was to be shown some, but not all, of her place in this schema. What was even more disturbing was the databank’s analysis of the future-memories, cross-referenced to take into account when certain predictions first appeared in the race-memory, and when the event described had taken place and how closely it resembled the predicted scenario. The Sepians’ race-memory manifested a ninety-eight point eight percent success rate at predicting the future.

Phenomenal, and frightening.

Science had long ago recognized that true prescience did exist in the universe, but the gift was rare, and only two known races had success rates anywhere near Sepia’s -- and these were seventy-two point two and seventy-two point five percent. Faced with this knowledge, it was hard for Tira to dismiss the prophecies regarding the Chosen One. However, what theko’eba had shown her was so vague as to be nearly useless in ascertaining exactly how these prophecies would affect her.

The only passage thathadn’t confused her was the one regarding the transformation of theava-stryk’na into a Vessel for the Seed of Dust. She was sure this had already happened. A warm glow suffused Tira every time she remembered that night and morning in the garden. To her disappointment, there had been no further encounters of that sort. At first, this was because Tira was so very sore from their enthusiastic activities that she couldn’t possibly participate, but even after she recuperated, Hunter seemed oddly reluctant to engage in intimate contact, though he insisted it was only temporary. According to him, theKo ’ had indicated that this abstinence was necessary. But her time on Sepia was drawing to a close. Already, theko’eba and other members of Tira’s team were beginning the formal bargaining that would result in a trade agreement between the ASB and the inhabitants of this dry, dusty world. So on this particular day, when Hunter shut the book before them around mid-morning and asked Tira to accompany him, she went gladly.

He took her to his home, leading her through the many rooms to an archway beyond which a steep stone stairwell led down into the earth. At the bottom, they stepped into a large cavern dominated by a crystal-clear pool into which a narrow fall of water splashed. Pale, blue glow-lights rested in niches carved into the rock walls. Hunter drew her into the pool, sitting on a ledge below the surface, settling Tira on his lap.

The water was quite warm, just this side of steaming. Tira leaned her head on Hunter’s emerald shoulder, relaxing against him. He reached up, caressing her hair with his wet hand. “We must talk.”

Tira’s heart did a flip, but she managed to keep her voice calm. “Really? About what?”

Hunter lifted her from his lap, gesturing for her to sit on the ledge across from him.

“It is time for you to decide.”

Tira looked away. “I -- I’m not sure what you mean, Hunter.”

“You are thezsebek va’ano. ” His voice held a chiding tone. “E’a kai zsebek va’ano zsome ak’ba Zsen’da.”

You are the Chosen One of the Heart of Dust.Tira swallowed nervously. “You’ve said that before, but I don’t know what it means.”

Hunter jerked his head irritably. “You have read the Archives. You know what I am speaking of.”

“Not really.” Tira eyed him defiantly, even a bit suspiciously. “There seemed to be a lot of information missing.”

Hunter had the grace to look away, embarrassed. “That was not I. TheKo ’ made the decision.”

“And why does he feel he must hide things from me?”

“Because it is foretold.” Hunter leaned forward urgently. “Thezsebek va’ano must becomekr’stryk’na of her own free will, despite the not knowing. Thekr’ak-na be’ano requires a willing sacrifice be made without the benefit of the foreknowledge of what is to come.”

Tira had finally learned the meaning of the wordkr’ak-na. Transformation. And --be’ano? Va’ano was ‘the One’. What wasbe’ano? Oh, yes. Prime.The Prime Transformation. She shivered at the implications. “Why do I suspect that’s because I won’tlike what’s to come?” Tira asked bitterly.

“If --” Hunter appeared to be struggling with himself for several moments, then finally continued, “If you want to go back to your people, go. I will understand. And I will still love you.”

The tension in his body, his bunched muscles and tight jaw, telegraphed to Tira just how much it cost him to do this. To put her own desires before the beliefs of his people. To admit that he loved her -- and would still love her even if she failed him. In the end, there was only one choice she could make. She met his gaze squarely. “If you want me, I am yours, Hunter.”

Hunter melted across the water, gathering her in his arms. To her surprise, he was trembling violently. “Thank the Dust,” he whispered gruffly. “I think I would die without you.”

Tira clung to Hunter desperately.Gaia , but she was scared!What am I getting myself into? But she could no longer imagine a life without him. “Kiss me,” she whispered.

Hunter pressed his lips to hers, then covered her face with his kisses. “Thank you,” he said. “You have blessed all of Dust this day.”

“I don’t care about Dust,” Tira answered. “Only you.”

“After this night,” Hunter said quietly, in very serious tones, “you will belong to Dust. And Iam Dust.”

Hunter drew back. Grasping Tira’s thighs, he parted them, trapping her gaze with his as he captured her clit between the tips of two claws, tugging gently. Tira caught her bottom lip between her teeth as he slipped his sixth-finger, with its duller, truncated claw, into her pussy. He grinned, baring his teeth as he repeated the words she had used many nights before. “Come for me, Tira. Come for me.”

Tira sighed happily, starting to relax, closing her eyes. “No.” Hunter abandoned her clit to tilt her head up to his. “I want to see. I want to see your passion.”

His hand returned to her clit. Tira moaned as the tip of one claw slipped beneath her clitoral hood, circling around the swollen nub beneath. Even as he touched her, the nub swelled even further. Hunter chuckled deep in his throat as Tira’s eyes clouded with desire. “Yes,” he murmured. He moved his finger inside her, exploring with his blunt claw.

“Gaia!” Tira bucked as his claw tip probed one particular spot. Experimentally, he pressed again.

“Oh, Gaia, yes,” his Chosen moaned. Hunter leaned forward and whispered in her ear as he pressed the blunt tip into that spot over and over. “Not Gaia, Tira. Dust. I am Dust, Tira. You belong to Dust.” He stopped, waiting for her response.

“Dust!” Tira sobbed, clutching his shoulders desperately. “Dust, Hunter. I belong to Dust!”

He knelt before her. Using his blunt sixth-fingers, he bared her pussy. His tongue snaked out, and he watched raptly as her swollen, glistening lips pulsed and contracted at his touch. He withdrew his tongue, using the forked tip to squeeze her clit, twisting slightly as he forced both sixth-fingers into her, fingering the newly-discovered pleasure center with both digits.

“Dust. Yes!”

Hunter reveled in the sight of the hungry, eager red mouth sucking at his fingers. As Tira arched and opened her mouth in a wordless cry, Hunter’s essence escaped, orange opalescence spangling the clear waters. He ignored his own pleasure, watching his Chosen eagerly as she writhed before him. He felt a pang of disappointment as she began to relax, her spasms fading. A thought came to him. The tips twisted together, he slipped his tongue between her buttocks, entering the pleasure-hole at her rear rapidly, roughly as he continued to stimulate Tira’s pussy.

Her hips jerked as his thick ribbon flexed its way into the tight opening. Tira caught her bottom lip between her teeth, as though she were fighting the urge to cry out. For a moment, Hunter was worried that he was hurting her again, but one look into her lust-filled eyes told him all he needed to know, and his love whimpered as he explored further, each undulating ripple of his muscular tongue appearing to drive her wild with desire.

Tira’s nails dug into his shoulders -- the first time she had caused him any kind of pain. “Hunter, please!”

Hunter twisted his tongue back and forth rapidly as he began plunging his tongue in and out of the tight hole. Tira’s scream finally escaped, as her body became rigid, her thighs pressed tightly together as she arched back. “I belong to Dust, Hunter!” she sobbed. “To you!”

Hunter retracted his tongue, but kept his fingers buried. “You must do everything exactly as directed,” he told her, never letting up, using his touch on her pleasure-point to prolong her orgasm until she whimpered fitfully. “Never doubt that after tonight, you will belong to me and only me.” He brought his lips to her ear. “Promise me.”

“I promise,” Tira gasped. “I promise, Hunter. Whatever I have to do!”

Hunter withdrew his fingers, howling in triumph, and Tira collapsed against the side of the pool, exhausted, her body shuddering visibly as the last waves of her orgasm faded.

Finally, limp and sweating, she asked anxiously, “What is tonight?”

“Now that you have agreed,kr’ak-na be’ano.”

Prime Transformation.Tira shivered, and Hunter pulled her into his arms. “Do not be frightened,va zsek’ba. ”My Soul. “I will be there with you.”

He held her for a long time, hoping to quell her fears, but he could sense Tira’s continued uneasiness in her unusual quiet and the faint trembling she didn’t seem able to control.

* * *

Tira stood with theKo ’ in the center of a massive stone slab near a chest high (to Tira) rectangular stone, all situated at the bottom of a giant earthen bowl. Thousands of Sepians occupied the benches surrounding them. “Where did they all come from?” Tira murmured.

TheKo ’ glanced at her. “I began summoning them on the day theak’ba Zsen’da told me you had come.”

Tira glanced at him in surprise. “How could you know I was really the one? That I would agree to this?”Whatever ‘this’ is .

His intense scrutiny brought heat to Tira’s cheeks. “I never doubted,” he answered cryptically.

As the last of the Sepians took their seats under the stars, an expectant hush fell over the crowd. Tira’s modified sight still couldn’t match the Sepians’ night vision. The light of two full moons reflecting upon the flat, polished stone made the top of the slab seem bright, but the onlookers were just dark and light blurs in a vast sea to her.

TheKo’ raised his hands. “People of Dust,” he intoned. “The Chosen has come. The Task is begun.”

Their cheer, a hissing roar, vibrated the very stone beneath Tira’s feet. She shifted nervously, feeling like a darter in the midst of a clutch of slinkers.

“Let the Heart of Dust come forth.”

Hunter leaped effortlessly onto the slab and strode over to take his place at Tira’s side. She breathed a little easier, just having him near.

A low murmuring started, growing in strength. “Ak’ba Zsen’da. Ak’ba Zsen’da. Ak’ba Zsen’da!”Hunter’s ears flared, his bearing that of a proud commander receiving the accolades of his troops. For the first time, it hit home with Tira that Hunter was not simply a politician. He was the ruler, not only of Enigma, but of the whole of Sepia. She had known this, in theory, for a couple of weeks, but only now did it seem real. His quiet confidence and lack of arrogance in the face of such admiration went a long way toward settling her frayed nerves.

At a glance from theKo’, Hunter made a single gesture that silenced the crowd instantly.

“Let the Sons of Dust come forth.”

Six familiar Sepians joined them on the slab -- Garnet, Butter, Sun, and the rest. The Ruling Council of Sepia. For the first time, Tira heard their Sepian names, but she still associated them with their color. As each leader was announced, the crowd chanted his name. After pale Opal, the last to be presented, had stepped back and the crowd had quieted, theKo’ took Tira by the arm and led her to the rectangular stone.

“Take your place upon the Cradle of Dust.”

Tira’s heart pounded. There were leather restraints fastened to the stone’s face! She shook her head. “No. I -- I can’t.”

Hunter was suddenly beside her, whispering in her ear. “Va zsek’ba.You will not be harmed. The first instinct is to fight, but --” Words seemed to fail him. He reached up and squeezed her shoulder. “You will see. Trust me.”

Tira could barely breathe past the knot in her chest. The crowd seemed to be holding its breath. Finally, she nodded. The collective sigh raised goose bumps on her flesh.

As she climbed up onto the altar and lay back, she became utterly aware of her nakedness. Up to that point, she had only been seen by Hunter, theko’eba, and the occasional Sepian on the street. Now, lying spread-eagled on a stone slab while theKo’ tightened leather straps across her ribs, her wrists, her thighs, and her ankles, she was completely vulnerable.

That part of her mind that had babbled incoherently after her first contact with Hunter threatened to take hold. Tira fought back her panic. Hunter loved her. He would never encourage her to take part in something that would harm her. She was determined to maintain control. To be a willing, alert participant in a ritual that would certainly change her life forever, and quite possibly change the future of Sepia.

A deep, thrumming boom reverberated through the stone, jarring Tira to the bone. A moment later came another, and then another. With each boom, the slab upon which Tira lay receded into its stone cradle a few inches. Almost without volition, Tira strained against her bonds. The Seven and theKo’ surrounded the slab, looking down on her. The very air seemed to hum with their barely-contained excitement. The hair on Tira’s body stood on end.

She forced herself to relax. Hunter’s gaze met hers, and she clung to that, her only reassurance in this madness. The stone ground to a halt as the last boom faded. Tira was four feet below the lip of the cradle. A soft susurration captured her attention and she glanced away from Hunter.

Fine golden sand poured from small openings lining the stone cavity. At first, Tira just stared, unwilling to admit to herself what was happening. Then the level of the sand started creeping up the sides. “Hunter, no!” she gasped, seeking his gaze. “What are you doing?”

The sand crept up over her hands, inched up between her thighs. “Please. Don’t!” Tira struggled against her bonds, but the leather held, snug as a second skin. The level was rising alarmingly fast. As the sand covered her neck, creeping up her chin, Tira begged. “Please, Hunter! Please. Make them stop!”

He met her gaze, his features concerned but not frightened, his dark eyes unreadable in the dim light. Tira closed her mouth tight as the sand reached its corners. She breathed frantically through her nose, staring in disbelief at the man who had betrayed her. She blinked rapidly as the fine particles trickled into the corners of her eyes, until finally she was forced to close them, unable to withhold a low, keening moan as the powder began to fill her nostrils.

Blind fear took hold. Tira thrashed like a wounded animal. Holding her breath, she strained at the straps, praying that constant, steady pressure might make them part. No such release came. Finally, Tira could hold her breath no longer. She gasped, and the golden particles filled her mouth, crawling down her throat.

Tira screamed wordlessly. Covered. Buried.Infiltrated by the bright substance. A sob escaped her.

Wait. A sob?

Tira stilled her trembling limbs and forced herself to take a breath.Yes, it’s true. I can breathe! It was a strange sensation -- like breathing through thick cloth in a very humid room -- but she could breathe! Tears of relief squeezed from the corners of her eyes. She relaxed for just a moment, pushing all thought from her mind, and --

Just like during the fever dream that seemed so long ago, she felt the legs of a million tiny ants. This time, there was no pain. No fire. Only the feathery touch of six times a million legs -- and not just on the surface of her skin. Inside her throat, on the underside of her eyelids, in the pit of her stomach. A vision entered her mind. A buzzing cloud of a billion glowing lights, too infinitesimal to see, and yet, she did see -- each and every one. All centered around a figure of pulsing brightness. With a start, she realized that she was seeing herself in the midst of that strange cloud. Her consciousness expanded. Her mind traveled outward, halting near the orbit of Sepia’s moons. She looked down on a world teeming with the golden lights.

They were a part of Sepia’s moons as well, though not as numerous. Even the vacuum of space was not empty. The golden lights moved in space -- quickly and with purpose. Tira pursued a glowing trail of Dust, sweeping out toward a neighboring star.

And, oh -- the stars! The stars were a blinding white brilliance of Dust, so beautiful she thought she could remain there forever and never look away.

Look at yourself.

Tira held up a hand, ghostly transparent. She was a brilliant mosaic of Dust, zooming in her veins, nestled in her muscles, orbiting her joints.

Dust you are, and Dust you will someday be…

The Sepians were right. Dust was an integral part of the universe, something no science she knew had ever discovered. And it was alive. Each particle a separate intelligence, buzzing its secrets in her veins.

Listen to the race-memories.

The Task must not fail… or all is lost!

Tira traveled for what seemed an eternity, listening to the Dust whisper at every turn.You must not fail, Soul of Dust.

Passing out beyond this galaxy’s rim, they approached the spiral galaxy of Old Earth. Zooming toward its center. Halting. Hovering before a brilliant star near the Core.The Origin of Dust.

So, the Sepians were wrong about that, at least.

You must stop them.

Tira felt they were using a collective you, sensed she would need the help of many others to accomplish whatever it was they were asking.This Work must not come to pass.

What Work?Tira asked.Who must we stop?

 

 

 

Chapter 6

 

With a jolt, Tira was back in her body, feeling once again the feathery touch. The sensation intensified, becoming an electric buzzing that made her ache with need. Her flesh must be touched! She arched her hips, burning with desire, itching with need. Dust must be satisfied!

Tira was so focused on these sensations that she didn’t realize the platform was rising until she felt a cool breeze kissing her nipples. As the sand receded, the Seven began to touch her.

Tira moaned as Garnet toyed with her nipple. Opal’s tongue tasted her lips, and she parted them, longing for his touch -- any touch -- to still her passionate need. Her body seemed a single raw nerve, aching to be stroked, tasted, kissed.Filled.

Their limber, six-fingered hands caressed her. Stroking between her toes, investigating the curves and valleys of her ears. Claw-tips raised goose-bumps on her flesh as they followed the contour of her belly, dipping into her belly button, then continuing on to find the swollen nub at the apex of her dark slit. Tira moaned, twisting on the slab. TheKo’ reached out, releasing her bonds.

Tira arched, grabbing their hands, pressing them to her. Showing them how to knead her breasts. How to squeeze and torture the hard pebbles of her nipples. Opal trailed his tongue down between her breasts. Then Hunter’s lips were on hers, his expression one of deep gratitude, yet his eyes were also dark with lust. “Yes, my love,” he whispered. “Yes.” Tira cradled his head, trapping his mouth against hers, sucking his tongue greedily while she guided Tawny’s questing sixth-claw to her pussy. She was vaguely aware of the crowd chanting.“Toba e’ bak’na! Toba e’ bak’na!” Fill the Vessel! Fill the Vessel!

She didn’t want to think about what that meant. She didn’t care. All that mattered was need.

Tira writhed on the table as the Seven tasted her, touched her. Her pussy tingled as Butter and Opal’s tongues mated within her, while Hunter’s supple ribbon made her asshole thrum with pleasure and Garnet and Sun’s eager suction at either breast caused her aching nipples to throb even more as they drank from her.

And theywere drinking, she realized. Her breasts were leaking a milky pearlescence that dribbled into the hollow between them, where Dandelion lapped eagerly.How… But no, she didn’t want to know. “Yes, yes,” Tira whispered. “Drink me. Touch me.” Hunter’s tongue withdrew from her anus and Tawny’s sixth-claw teased the taut opening. “Yes.” Tira drew back her legs, thrusting out her cheeks for him. “Inside me. Now!” Tawny eased his claw in past the rim. “Yes!”

Tira pulled the nearest Sepian, Garnet, onto the slab, turning him so that his lower back was near her face. Tawny’s finger twisted inside her and she bucked as she licked Garnet’s backbone, searching for that secret hollow. Garnet sang to the sky when she found it and sucked fiercely, making it grow. Tira dipped her tongue into the tight orifice, and was vaguely aware of Garnet’s semen fountaining into the air. Then, Butter was there, offering his backside, his anus already protruding, hanging thick and long like a human cock in front of her eyes. She abandoned Garnet for a moment, licking her pinky and sliding it inside Butter, plumbing his ass as she turned back to exploring Garnet’s hole with her tongue. Their ululating calls filled the night.

Her skin was an erogenous zone, each touch expanding her nipples, making her pussy weep. Opal’s hands were caressing her roughly, making their way up from the bottom of her feet to her waist, and each touch ignited another ember of desire within. Hunter and Dandelion parted her pussy lips wide, the tips of their claws tracing delicate symbols on the exposed tissues. Tira shuddered and began to buck frantically. Tawny’s claw still danced in her anus, and he also began lapping up the thick juices pooling on the stone between her legs.

“Please,” Tira whispered.

All motion ceased. The Seven spoke as one, “Tell us.”

“Fill me,” Tira moaned.

It was as though they had been waiting for a signal. Opal leaped onto the stone, crouching between her outspread legs. Tira sought Hunter’s gaze, ripe with desire. He nodded. Reaching down, she clutched Opal’s manhood between her hands, guiding the tip of his cock to nest just inside her pussy. “Hold me,” she told the others.

Twelve arms held her while Opal entered her cautiously. His eyes widened in shock, then glazed over, and Tira knew that he was lost, as he began pounding into her over and over while Tira screamed, “Yes, yes!” into the sky. Opal froze suddenly, shuddering, and Tira felt a wash of warmth as his seed filled her. “Dust, yes!” she cried.

Opal flowed off the platform and Garnet took his place. He captured her gaze with his and watched her expression as he entered her. Slowly. Carefully. Tira moaned, her pussy clenching. His eyes widened, and he began rocking his hips. “Yes,” Tira moaned. “Oh, Dust. Yes.” His essence exploded in midstroke, soaking into her, but easing her need only slightly.

“More,” Tira gasped. Butter loomed above, then buried himself inside her with one stroke.

Tira whimpered. Butter pumped his hips, reaching behind him and between her legs to finger her anus as he fucked her. Tira gasped as he slid the tip of his sixth-claw into her. A mini-orgasm spiraled through her, flushing her skin. Butter’s eyes clouded as he came, Tira’s hungry pussy sucking his staff dry.

“Again!” she demanded. Sun pushed past Butter eagerly. He lifted her legs, resting her heels against his chest. His cock, slender and shorter than the others, seemed to caress her inflamed tissue. Tira sighed, enjoying the feel of him, delighted when he was able to bury it inside her right up to the base. “Fill me,” she begged. “Please, fill me.” He came without even moving, pouring his essence into her as she shuddered beneath him.

Tawny jumped onto the dais and crouched there. Grasping Tira’s waist, he pulled her into a sitting position, then lifted her, holding her poised above his staff as he parted her glistening lips with his tongue, spreading them wide while he lowered her over his glistening head. Tira wrapped her arms and legs around him, sliding down, taking him deep. Almost as deep as Butter. Hunter came up behind Tawny and claimed Tira’s lips, plumbing her mouth with his tongue as the ripe cock plumbed her pussy, bringing on another small orgasm as Tawny climaxed, but offering no real relief from the fire burning within.

Tira climbed off Tawny and reclined again on the stone. Dandelion grasped her ankles, pulling her to the edge of the dais. He stood as he took her, grinning as her warm folds surrounded him. “Not enough,” Tira moaned. “Please.” Her fierce gaze raked the other six, hot with desire. She reached out and guided their hands to her body -- to her nipples, her clit -- begging them to still the devouring need. Eager hands squeezed her breasts, hungry tongues laved her nipples. Claws brushed lightly across the sensitive skin just above her bush. When Dandelion anointed her, she cried out repeatedly as multiple tiny orgasms rippled through her frame.

Tira shivered with the sudden cold as the six retreated. Then Hunter was before her. Pushing her back on the slab. Joining her there. Caressing her entire body with his tongue. Baring his teeth with a hiss when he noticed the bruises on her skin -- the tiny bite marks from questing mouths and shallow scratches from ungentle talons. His muscles tensed in her embrace.

“It’s all right,” she murmured. “It doesn’t matter, Hunter.” She cupped his cheek with one hand. “I love you.”

His kiss -- passionately deep and fiercely possessive -- crushed her lips and took her breath away. She ran her feet up the backs of his calves, caressed his thighs. When his member nudged her swollen lips, she pushed him away. “Wait.”

Tira turned her back to him, squatting on all fours before him, moonlight glinting on her swollen pussy. “Now.”

Hunter positioned his weeping cock between her feverish lips and grasped Tira’s waist. Slowly, deliciously, he slid in. Tira relished every second. The tight pressure of each ridge against her opening, sliding tightly through. When Hunter met resistance, he stopped.Please, Dust, Tira thought.Please. Let me take him. ALL of him.

Tira’s vision clouded as she felt a strange ripple pass through her body. A slightly painful prickling, stretching sensation. Intuitively, she rocked back. Hunter gasped, then thrust forward as Tira’s succulent folds embraced his entire length. He hissed in delight as the flesh of his groin pressed into the round globes of her ass. Tira closed her eyes.Thank you.

Hunter’s hands found her plump breasts and began kneading them. Tira opened her eyes, watching as milky pearlescence flowed in narrow streams from their tips.How? she wondered again.How can this be? One of Hunter’s fingers stroked across her nipple, coating her areola with the substance, cool in the night air. Her already bulging nipples expanded even more, gleaming darkly in the light of the twin moons. A sharp pang of desire ripped through her. “Take me,” she whispered. “Take me now!”

Hunter slid his cock back unhurriedly. Tira wiggled impatiently, sighing as his firm ridges twisted delectably, scratching her itch. “Faster.” He thrust forward. Tira clenched her pussy tight, reluctant to let him go as he pulled back again. “Faster, Hunter!” His huge cock filled her completely, their flesh pressed together so closely that each beat of her heart actually tightened her against him.

Apparently, Hunter felt it as well. With a groan, he folded over her, wrapping his arms around her, pressing himself against Tira’s back.

“Please, Hunter. Please.” His body quivered against hers. “Fuck me. Fuck mehard.”

With a howl, Hunter released her -- pushing up, thrusting deep. Tira arched, herself singing to the moons. “Yes, Hunter. Yes!” In the grip of a wild passion, she drove her hips back again and again, her buttocks pounding against Hunter’s groin as she sought to relieve the aching need. A fierce heat settled in her core, swelling into a brilliant, burgeoning pleasure. Tira sat up abruptly, reaching back to grab Hunter’s ass, trapping him against her. His hands grasped her sides, his claws marking her ribs as he convulsed, his essence spilling.

“Yes!” Tira screamed as the white-hot torrent filled her. Then all rational thought left as a twisting, roiling pleasure rippled through her pussy and then shot out along every nerve. Her entire body was an orgasm, pulsing and sweet, carrying her high above the crowd massed around them, soaring on a crest of love, desire, and Dust.

For a moment, they were suspended, the two of them joined together in ultimate release. Then Hunter shuddered, and they both collapsed onto the slab. The six moved in around them.

“No.” TheKo’ stepped forward, pushing them back. “Wait.” He reached out and grasped Hunter’s shoulders, urging him to move off the dais. He did, reluctantly.

Tira rolled onto her back, staring up at the starry sky. She was covered in sweat, shivering in the cool breeze. Hunter started to step forward, but theKo’ halted him, a hand on his chest. “No. It is not yet finished.”

A tingling began in Tira’s fingertips and toes, speeding up her arms and legs, meeting at her waist. The tingling became a vibrating sphere she could feel deep within her. Tira’s vision clouded yet again, and she felt lightheaded.

Abruptly, she was floating, looking down at herself on the slab. But from this vantage point she was transparent, a fragile-looking thing with gold dust zipping in its veins, swirling round a dark point at its center. Her vantage changed, and she was within that swirling cloud, watching as seven twisting spirals -- each one the exact color of the skin of one of the Seven -- converged on a pearly globe in their midst. As she watched, each spiral pressed into the thick membrane surrounding her egg, vanishing from sight.

The egg expanded, dark tendrils appearing within. The Dust closed in, and Tira watched as golden intelligences braided strands of DNA in an intricate pattern, deleting a gene here, inserting one there, copying another sequence elsewhere. Too numb to panic, she merely watched, knowing that whatever was happening could not be stopped. Indeed, had been inevitable from the moment she set foot on this world. With that thought, a calm peace settled over her.

A moment later, she was back inside her body, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. TheKo’ stepped forward, his teeth bared in a wide grin. He offered her a hand, and Tira took it, sliding off the dais. He led her to stand before it, as the crowd cheered. “Kr’stryk-na! Kr’stryk-na!” Of the People! Of the People!TheKo’ motioned for the Seven to join her, and they moved, arraying themselves in a semicircle behind her.

Then a spear of fire seemed to pierce Tira’s gut. She gasped, wrapping her arms around her waist. Her flesh…undulated. She glanced down, staring in shock and horror as her belly began to pulse, expanding with every throb. She sank to her knees on the stone, tears streaming down her face. The silence surrounding her was not shock. It was a vibrating expectancy -- a sense of awe. “Help me,” Tira mumbled.

 

Hunter stepped -- and theKo’ was there, holding him back with arms like bands of steel. “It is good,” theKo’ intoned. “Trust in the race-memory.” Hunter wanted to fight free of his grip, but a strange lethargy possessed him. He watched helplessly as Tira dropped to her knees, holding her stomach, panting as sweat dripped from her brow. “Tira!”

 

Her belly was huge now, the skin stretched tighter than Tira thought she could bear. The skin shuddered, a visible symbol of the tremendous cramp tightening her gut. Tira gasped and instinctively got up on her legs, squatting. The world diminished to nothing but her tight belly and the squirming being within. Grunting, she pushed, ending with a scream as her narrow pelvis refused the crushing weight against it.

The Dust within her shifted, and Tira felt her groinwidening. Shewatchedher hips spread. Her stomach clenched, and Tira sobbed with relief as a golden dome appeared between her legs. Straining, she pushed, over and over, until a gleaming globe that could have encased two large human babies quivered on the stone beneath her. She fell back, and Hunter’s hands were there to catch her, to lift her up and watch with her, amazed, as the globe shivered and grew. Within minutes, the sac had expanded to an elongated oval, longer than Tira was tall, but shorter than Hunter. Then, a bulge appeared near the top, pressing outward until a talon broke through. Another appeared, and another, parting the membrane.

Golden fluid flowed onto the slab, then shimmered and dissipated into the air, leaving no residue. The form within stood, stepping out of the collapsed sheath. It breathed deeply of the night air.

The watching crowd broke into a roar.“Jurid’ba Zsen’da! Jurid’ba Zsen’da!” The thing turned. Its eyes swept across the others, to meet Tira’s wide gaze.

“Mother.”

Though a part of her was horrified, Tira could not turn away this new-made man-child. She held out her arms, and he flowed into them with Sepian grace, kneeling before her. Gazing up at her with very human blue eyes from a face Dusted golden, he took a swollen nipple in his mouth and began suckling greedily from her breast. Tira ignored the knot of foreboding that sprang up in her chest at this image, wrapping her son in a crushing embrace.

Her son.A blending of human, Sepian, and Dust.

He suckled at both breasts, the crowd around them eerily silent. At last, his hunger apparently assuaged, he pushed free and stood, looking to Hunter. His father nodded, raising a hand that their son clasped briefly, smiling. Then this golden boy turned and held his arms wide while the People’s praise rained down on him, a rumbling roar that echoed in the night.

Jurid’ba Zsen’da.

The Seed of Dust.

 

Thus ends Part 1 of the Chronicles of Enigma.

 

To be continued in

Enigma 2: Seed of Dissent

 

Don’t miss the second chapter in the Chronicles of Enigma --

Enigma 2: Seed of Dissent

 

Tira Elazri has fulfilled Sepian prophecy, bringing about the birth of the Seed, the Golden One. Her role in world-changing affairs is finished, and now she can settle down for a life with Hunter. Or so she thought. But the prophecies of Dust are many and varied, and Tira is a thread in more than one of the vast tapestries they weave. The Seed of Dust is much more than he appears to be, and once again Tira is drawn down a path of love vs. loyalty, right vs. wrong, her own salvation vs. the fate of a thousand worlds.