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Journal Entry 00164 212 000 Ambassadors

Ambassadors

Journal Entry 212 / 00164

Seren, Narquel 01, 00164

September 22, 2048

"Kennet?"

The shout from the command cabin jolted me awake from yet another short

catnap. The four-day transit time to Terra was trying on my nerves

and stamina; Kangaroos are great trans-atmospheric shuttlecraft, but

they're cramped inside. Information is light, so I had plenty of reading,

music, video, and even writing to keep myself occupied if I so desired.

Consumables such as food are not, and our technology in that field isn't

as advanced as Terra's, so my stomach, and I guessed the stomachs of my

five companions, were not so content.

I wished earnestly that we'd hurry up find a way to make the big ships

as fast as a Kangaroo. Those were the days of luxury, I sighed. It was

a pity they took three months to cross the same distance.

I groaned audibly as I creaked out of my chair, stiff and sore,

and walked forward on velcro slippers to the CC. I grabbed hold of a

support strut and leaned in casually, looking down at our lovely Felinzi

pilot. "What's up?"

She didn't look up from her console as she said, "You said advise you

when we were leaving hyperspace. Ten minutes."

"Mph," I agreed tiredly. I noted the copilot's chair was empty. "Shtamed

taking a nap?"

"Yep," she replied. "Go ahead, have a seat."

I eased myself into the red-upholstered chair and strapped the harness

on, looking over the ever-bewildering array of readouts, displays and

consoles. In the first six years of Pendor's shift to a space-faring

culture, many people had been surprised at the sudden rush of people

anxious to get "out there."

I had not been so surprised. I'm so fully aware of diversity that I was

sure we'd have hundreds of talented starstruck Pendorians anxious to take

their place as crewfen. Pendorians who would understand why I insisted on

having a small crew learn about zero gravity and spaceflight even before

we lived in a place with stars in the sky. What frustrated me was that

my own rise into space was, for me, painfully slow. I had taken classes

in orbital and special mechanics, starship maintenance and so forth,

but I wasn't as quick a learner as many. I had expected more from myself.

I blinked at the controls, forcing myself to think of what I wanted,

reached for the keyboard and dialed a plus-z overhead view of our ship's

predicted path, closing in on a time-tolerant view of the approaching

ex-hyperspace window. Eight minutes to go.

As I watched the clock tick down, a thought that had been nagging me

for the past day finally clicked in my head. "K'meh?"

"Sir?"

"Uhm..." I paused to collect my thoughts. "Neither P'nyssa or anyone else

with whom I feel I have a comforting relationship came with me on this

trip. I, uh... well, first of all, I want you to stop calling me 'Sir.'

That 'Kennet' you addressed me with earlier is fine." I swallowed hard,

thinking about how sometimes dealing with people was so very easy, and

then at times like this I couldn't get out a single word. "You and I were

talking rather... comfortably yesterday, and I'd like to ask if you'd

consider sharing my room." I snorted a soft laugh at my own reluctance.

"My bed."

K'meh didn't even blink at the invitation. "I thought you had the

invitation of Dr. Stoneman."

I smiled, checked the clock, and placed my hand over hers. "Dr. Stoneman

and I have every intention of having dinner together. If something

else develops out of that, which I doubt, well... Let me be honest,

K'meh... I don't like to sleep alone."

She laughed freely, tossing her head back. "So," she said loudly,

recovering, "Am I a roommate, or backup?"

I blushed, embarrassed. "Maybe a little bit of both."

She pulled her hand free from under mine, and then laid it atop mine

reassuringly. "I need a roommate, and I can't think of anyone I'd

rather have."

Before I could answer, there was a curious lurch, but it felt as if

it were coming from inside my skull, rather than against the harness,

which seemed to move not at all. K'meh was suddenly busy. "Kanga Two,

Kanga Two."

"This is Kanga Two," the radio announced cleanly. "That you at the helm,

K'meh?"

"Affirmative, Segio. How's your compliment?"

"We're fine. Nice scheduling; we came out clean."

"Nice to drive with you, Seg. See you on Terra."

"Right. Stay in touch."

"Will do. Out." She turned her attention to the navigation computer.

"We're an hour out from Luna Insertion Orbit, and it looks like we'll be

coming along the right path so we should be landing at Tycho in slightly

under two hours."

I nodded. "Sorry about the stop at Luna."

She smiled and pointed around herself towards the back. "The scientists

wanted a Luna conference. Besides, everyone wants a past they can touch,"

she finished mysteriously.

I settled back into the chair and looked at her curiously, but decided

not to continue the conversation. Instead, I summoned up the collection

of short stories by Edgar Allan Poe that I'd been reading earlier.

Eventually, I leaned back in my chair and napped.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

"Vatare'," the voice said, someone shaking my shoulder. "I'm going to

need the co-pilot's position for landing."

"Eh?" I said, waking quickly. "Oh," I said, smiling, "sure." I creaked

against out of my comfortable seat, handing it back to flight specialist

Shtamed. I drifted back to my equally comfortable passenger chair and

pulled the harness back on there as well. "You have one minute to secure

positions," K'meh announced, "before we detach from the hyperdrive module

for descent to the lunar surface. Please make sure you are all strapped

in securely."

The actual landing took only fifteen minutes more. Although I had put

off thinking about it for the past couple of days, now that we were

actually coming close to Tycho Base my anxiety level was increasing

with every diminishing meter. I tried to relax. It had been, for me,

centuries since I had last spoken to Victoria Stoneman face-to-face. I

looked down at my hands, still perfectly smooth and relatively untouched

by age or effort. I knew Victoria's wouldn't be the same.

The Kanga came to a gentle, perfect touchdown on the lunar terrain.

Although I had always been an avid reader of "science fiction," and had

been a member of a spacefaring race for nearly fifty years, this was my

first visit to Earth's moon, that object that had hung overhead for so

much of my youth.

We were lowered into a receiving bay, and then the entire platform started

to move across the bay, apparently on some sort of giant truck. The

same philosophy that had led to the development of the huge tractor-

carriages that hauled space vehicles out to their launch pads apparently

had been adapted for use on Luna. The truck pulled into a smaller bay,

and airlock doors double-sealed behind us. There was a delay as air was

pumped into the airlock, and then the doors in front opened, leading us

to a pressurized maintenance bay filled with a large collection of uniform

spacecraft, none of which were ever intended for atmospheric flight.

"The outside is apparently safely pressurized," K'meh announce. "At least,

I hope it is... there are humans out there working in shirtsleeves. I'm

going to open both doors on the airlock sequentially." The outside doors

opened first, followed by the inside doors; there was just a slight >pop<

as the pressure outside and in equalized.

"After you, Kennet," said the Uncia medic who had come to Luna to give

his presentation on xenophysiology and space medicine. I nodded and

slowly stepped down the self-extending steps onto to vaguely ellipsoid

landing platform.

A stairway ramp was rolled up to the platform and a tall, aging Caucasian

human with swept, black hair and grey eyes bounded up, followed by a

small party, in the center of which I spied Victoria. He crossed the

platform assuredly and held out his hand. "How do you do? I'm Martin

Scheider, Commander of Moonbase Tycho. Welcome, and welcome to United

States Territory." He held out his hand.

I took it and shook comfortably. "Glad to be here," I said. He smiled in

response, and I thought I would call his smile 'charming.' I wondered

how much of that smile was honest, and how much of it he reserved for

the politicians he had to deal with on a daily basis. Most of it felt

honest, to me.

"I understand that the three Pendrii behind you are here for the

conferences on extra solar exploration, but I am also led to understand

that you personally are here to visit Dr. Victoria Stoneman?"

I coughed politely and said, "Yes; Dr. Stoneman and I have been

corresponding for a number of years, and seeing as I was going to be in

the neighborhood I requested clearance to land and visit."

"I received the information five days ago." I wondered how the information

had been worded. As a request, or orders? He continued. "I would like to

introduce various members of my staff. This is Wilton Marchoff, my deputy

director," I shook hands with her, "Elizabeth Knight, my chief medical

officer, and I believe you already know my head of Physical Sciences,

Victoria Stoneman."

I shook hands with Dr. Knight before bowing deeply to Victoria. "Hello,

Victoria. You're looking wonderful for eighty-two years."

"As are you, Ken." Her smile was dazzling. She held out her hand and

I kissed it; As I had realized earlier, her skin was thin and fragile,

projections of her great age upon her. I felt saddened by her suddenly,

just standing there.

Commander Scheider seemed slightly surprised by the familiarity of the

exchange, but he recovered quickly and said, "Well, let's have your crew

settled into their cabins. I understand that you and your flight crew

will be heading on to Moscow in a few days."

"The day after tomorrow, at 19:00 Greenwich Mean Time," K'meh replied. Is

there a problem with that scheduling?"

"Just give us six hours notification and we'll have a clearance ready

for you," said a broad-shouldered man standing with Commander Scheider's

party. "Does your ship require any particular type of refueling or

maintenance?"

"Not that it isn't already getting," Shtamed replied. "It's the

atmospheric insertions that really tear them up, and we have a facility

at New Boeing Field to do that sort of maintenance work."

As we were led into the underground moonbase (a trip which involved a

short hop in a tracked tube), I noticed K'meh glancing about nervously. We

were shown our temporary quarters, and when the doors closed I dropped

my bag and gave her a tight hug. "Feeling claustrophobic?" I asked her.

"A little," she admitted. The quaver in her voice gave away just how big

"a little" was.

"We just spent four days cooped up in a Kangaroo. Compared to that,

this is spacious. It's bigger than the entire cabin!"

She smiled. "Forgive me if I don't trust Terran technology."

"Now, now," I chided. "Nobody has died from a hardware failure in nearly

two decades."

"What about that big blowout four years ago? A window and three successive

bulkheads all failed!"

"You know that was sabotage,"

"And that's supposed to make me feel more comfortable about being in a

Terran facility?" she replied.

"Nobody died from it."

"Two of their security officers were nearly frozen to death and

asphyxiated."

"They survived, didn't they?"

"They lost fingers and toes."

"They got them back," I said, giving her another squeeze. I decided not

to tell her about Victoria. "Besides, after four days without a shower,

I think we both need one. Maybe two."

She sniffed at herself delicately, wrinkled her nose and said "If I

was as much of a feline as I appear to these humans to be, I'd lick

myself clean."

I laughed at the gesture and said, "Would you like to take one together?"

"That sounds wonderful," she agreed, stepping free of my arms and locating

that bathroom. From within I heard her voice say, "Then again, maybe not.

Have you seen the size of their showerstall?"

I poked my head in and looked. She was right; it would barely hold one

of us, much less two. "On the other hand... take a look at the water

restrictions."

She read them carefully, sighing. "How are we going to do this?"

"We take one together, pooling our ration so that you get as wet as

possible, we turn up the heat lamps in the bathroom, and then we rinse

off the same way."

"Okay, let's try it," she said, shrugging out of her flight uniform.

Inside, she did smell like an unwashed cat, a very unwashed one. I was

quick to grab the showerhead and play the streams all over her body,

turning on the shower massage portion to drive the pressurized water

under her fur. She giggled in places when I did that. Once she was wet

I ran it over myself just as quickly, then turned the water off. "Do

you have soap?"

"In the black bag," she pointed. "It's the brown bottle." I found the

wide, plastic squeeze bottle of soap, splashed some in my hands and

ran then over her torso, starting at her neck and sliding down quickly.

"Smells good," I said. "Is that clove oil?"

"Yep," she replied, purring softly as my hands ran down her chest.

Normally, I tend to think of pilots as being very thin, light people.

K'meh's body could only be described as lush. Her hips were wide, her

breasts were very full, and her shoulders were broad. Her fur was an

almost-white grey liberally polka-dotted with teardrop-shaped spots of

brown streaked with gray, the spots thinning out at her neck and between

her thighs, although they seemed quite dense at the base of her spine. She

was just as tall as I was.

I had a hard time ignoring how alluring she was when I ran my hands under

her breasts to get the soap up against her pelt, and I don't think she

minded too much when I lingered there longer than was necessary. I had

her turn around and gave her back similar treatment, rubbing my hands

in small, tight circles to massage her neck. She purred softly and

leaned her head against the yielding wall of the shower. "Rub harder,"

she purred pleadingly.

I pushed in harder, down around her spine and between her shoulderblades,

trying to ease the pressure of 120 or so hours of flight time. Although

the computers on board had taken much of the effort off her hands, none

of us were completely relaxed-- just sitting makes me tense sometimes. She

purred softly, collapsing against the showerstall wall and letting me hold

her up as I rubbed her. I slowly worked my way down and began caressing

her hips and buttocks; the sounds coming from her muzzle were positively

ecstatic. She moaned softly as my hands pressed into the tight flesh of

her thighs, as much for the massage as for the soap, kneeling down and

working down to her calves and finally her feet. "I'd like to do this

part when we're dry."

"That sounds wonderful," she sighed. "Would you like me to wash you

as well?"

"Please... but be quick. I don't want the soap on you to dry suddenly

and give you a rash."

"It won't be that long," she replied, smiling and trading places with

me, running her soap along my chest with her paws. I suddenly understood

why she had reacted so vocally to my touch; after four days of wearing

the same clothes and sitting in the same position, just to be touched by

another person was sheer bliss, never mind that she was massaging me just

as firmly as I had her. Her hands were just as sure, rubbing my neck,

back, buttocks, thighs. I nearly passed out, it felt that wonderful. I

wanted to sleep, and sleep for real.

When she was finally done, I turned around and grabbed the showerhead.

"In," I ordered. She smiled and got in as I again ran the water over her

head, her chest, teasing at the fur to get the soap out of all of it. When

she was rinsed, I turned the head on myself and rinsed off quickly.

"Whew," I sighed.

"Yeah," she replied. "After that, I feel ready for sleep."

"Computer?" I asked aloud. There was no response. "I thought they had

vocal-control computers on Tycho?"

"Maybe you need to address a terminal or something," she said thoughtfully

as she toweled off. Being furred, she needed more time than I did to

get the water off her.

"I'll go take a look." Without a concern for modesty, I walked into the

main room and found what looked like a keyboard terminal with a condenser

microphone. The wall appeared to be a wide-screen display. I toggled the

'power' bar in the upper-right-hand corner of the keyboard and the screen

came up with a menu. "Computer?" I inquired aloud.

"Listening," came back a flat and unpleasant male voice.

"Where is Doctor Victoria Stoneman?"

"Doctor Stoneman is in her laboratory," the computer replied.

"Can you please connect..." I suddenly realized that I was still naked. I

leaned far out of the chair I was sitting in to grab a long nightshirt

from my bag and slipped it on.

"Repeat, please," the computer responded.

"Can you please connect me to Doctor Stoneman?"

"I am inquiring Doctor Stoneman right now." I cursed under my breath

about stupid computers and computer programmers.

Finally the screen cleared and Victoria peered out at me. "Ken!" she

responded cheerfully, smiling.

"Hi, Vicki," I replied. "You're looking swell."

"You too," she said. "Are we still having dinner tonight?"

"When's 'tonight?'" I asked.

"It's only noon right now. How about eight o'clock?"

I closed my eyes and sighed, thanking a deity at random. I think today's

was Loki. "That would be wonderful. I need to take a nap. Is there

anything you want from me when I show up?"

"Just you," she replied softly. "See you in a few hours."

"Okay," I said. "See you then, Vicki."

K'meh chose right then to walk out; After setting the alarm clock I

turned to watch her walk naked across the room and dig through her bag

for a fur brush.

I stood up and walked behind her, giving her a gentle hug. "Would you

like me to help with that brush?" I asked.

"I sure would," she sighed, sitting down slowly on the edge of the bed.

Then again, in the one-sixth gravity of Luna, everything seemed to happen

in slow motion anyway. I started at the top of her head, dealing with

knots and tangles for the next half hour. She purred anyway under my

gentle touch. It didn't seem quite so hard to concentrate on what I was

doing this time, even though I got a rather solid erection while I was

brushing her breasts and about her vulva. I gave her feet the massage I

had promised, and she did indeed fall asleep during it. I slipped under

the light sheets with her and joined her in complete unconsciousness.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

At seven the alarm chime woke me up, making me blink and look up. With a

soft groan I climbed out of bed, careful not to disturb K'meh who chose

to stay solidly asleep. "Smart girl," I whispered softly.

I decided to dress smartly, so I located my Pendor Interstellar Fleet

uniform and pulled it on, carefully buckling the various snaps and frogs

and such, pulling the collar out and adjusting the cufflinks. I examined

myself in the mirror and decided that I looked reasonable after brushing

my hair. I reached for the keyboard and began typing in commands. I asked

for a quick map to Victoria's home, found it, memorized it as best I could

and walked out. K'meh, fortunately, slept through the whole operation.

I had to ask someone for directions anyway.

I approached the doorway with a hint of trepidation and pressed the door

chime. The door opened. Victoria stood before me, looking wonderful in a

simple light-gray monk's robe that folded around her body and was tied

around her hips. She wore the hood up, but lowered it behind her head

as I looked in. "Hi," I said.

"Hello, Ken," she replied softly. "Come in; dinner is still cooking,

so it might be a few minutes before it's ready. Make yourself at home,

look around."

I nodded and stepped through the door, hearing it close behind me. She

smiled and turned back into the kitchen to again pay attention to her

cooking. "I remember your penchant for beef, so I'm cooking steak."

"Real steak?"

"Not really," she replied. "I'm told some people can tell the difference."

"Depends on how different 'different' is."

"It's made by Solid Artificial Photosynthesis."

"I probably won't be able to tell the difference, then," I said, glancing

around her home qua laboratory. There were a variety of instruments

laying about, the most notable was an authentic-looking brass reflective

telescope that peered out a large bay of windows at the stars. To the

left of the windows was a framed copy of her certificate from the Nobel

Committee for Achievement in Mathematics and Physics. There was a drafting

table in one corner, above which a carefully drawn illustration of a

house was taped to the wall; the corners of the drawing were yellowing

with age, and the paper appeared to have cracked in places. Several

tears in the sheet had been repaired with cellophane tape, telling me

this drawing had moved a couple of times, but probably wouldn't survive

moving again. "This house," I said aloud, "You live there once?"

"I was going to," Victoria replied, two plates in her hands. "Come,

I've got dinner ready. Sit down." I took a seat at her dining table

where she indicated. From where we sat, we could look out the windows

at the stars overhead.

"You were going to? What happened?"

"I drew that back when I was young, and poor, and new to Luna. Then the

accident, and... " Her voice trailed off. "I haven't been to Terra since

then, you know."

"I know."

She laughed softly. "It's sad, isn't it?" she said, turning to look at me.

"I have all the money I could ever want, the affection of everyone on

Luna, but I just can't do what I want. I can't go home."

"So, what happened to the house?"

"Oh, it never existed. I was just drawing it freehand to see what I

thought I wanted. It looked about right for New Hampshire, huh? I guess

I could have given the drawing to my daughter, but she never could stand

to live out in the country the way I wanted."

I nodded. Then what she said dawned on me. "You have a daughter? When?"

"About forty years ago," Victoria said calmly. "About two years after the

accident, in fact. I wanted to get that over with, and I decided that

since I was going to be bedridden anyway, that was the perfect time to

have my child."

"That was before the birthright selection, right?" She nodded. "What

did you do with your second birthright?"

"I gave it to her. She's allowed three children. Four, actually."

"Four? She bought a fourth?" I asked.

"I bought it for her. She wanted it, and I haven't got anything better

to do with my money." She laughed softly. "Most of it goes to charity

anyway."

I nodded, watching her move with a calm majesty I thought I would never

have. "You know, Vicki, you're as beautiful as you ever were."

She smiled back. "You were never a good liar, Ken. When you first knew me

I was the overweight lonely girl with braces and coke-bottle glasses. If

I'm as beautiful now as I was then, I think I'm in trouble."

"You know what I mean," I said. She smiled back at me and said, "Yeah,

I guess I do. You yelled at me, once."

"You pissed me off, once," I replied. "I'm sorry."

"So am I," she said. "Apology accepted," she said.

"I still think you look wonderful."

"Ken," she sighed slowly, "Let's face the face. I'm eighty-two years old.

And unlike you, I am not going to live forever. I'm going to live a

lot longer than my groundside relatives. My family stock was always

long-lived, and good food, a lighter gravity, and--" she spread her

fingers over her chest-- "an artificial heart are all good reasons that

I should live well past a hundred."

"That doesn't mean I don't find you beautiful, Vicki."

She smiled. "Do you really?"

"Yeah. Why shouldn't I? It's not like I find small differences in body

types a disadvantage."

"Yes, I saw your female friend. She's very pretty."

"K'meh?" I asked. "Yes, she is."

"So why do you want me?"

I looked around idly. "Because I came to visit you. K'meh and I are

just newfound fast friends, but she's not you, Vicki. Besides," I smiled

mischievously, "call it an ego thing."

"Ego? How so?"

"I did want to be the one to take your virginity."

She laughed. "You silly kid. You haven't changed one little bit."

"Watch who you're calling 'kid,' youngster," I said, "I'm still a hundred

and twenty-eight years older than you are."

"Really?" she said, looking up. "I didn't realize... where did the other

twenty-eight years come from... or is that how long the set-up took?"

I nodded. "Pendor took four point five million years to set up. Although

I spent most of that time 'in transit,' so to speak, the monitoring and

measuring of progress took twenty one years."

"And the other seven?"

"Building Centaurs."

"All by yourself. Tell me how that happened?"

"How what happened?"

"How you came to build Pendor. What happened? One day, you were there...

the next, you were gone. That hunk of junk you drove was gone."

I sighed quietly and told her the whole story, starting, as the White

Queen once said, at the beginning, and going all the way to the end,

and then stopping. She was silent through the whole thing, sipping from

a glass of wine.

"And that's it?" she asked. "Someone decided you should be God, and that

was that? Suddenly you were?"

"Something like that. I mean, I know someone had to start the process,

but eventually it became a closed loop, me handing Fawn to me, over and

over eternally."

"Too bad we can't go back in time and do something about it."

"Maybe someday somebody will. Until then, we have to live with it. Do

you find what I did... repulsive? I know some people do."

She shook her head. "No, I don't. Predictable, for anyone who knew you,

maybe. You were never into power, really, so much as you were into

satisfaction. I like your solution."

I reached out and touched the back of her hand with mine. "Thank you."

She pulled her hand away from me. "That's not the real one," she said.

"Besides, I'm really too old for that sort of thing."

"To what?" I asked. "Be touched?" I grabbed her other hand and held it

tightly, being careful not to apply too much pressure. "Everyone needs

to be touched, Victoria. You do, I do, everyone does."

"You're reading too much pop psychology, Ken."

"Am I?" I asked softly. "I've raised over a hundred children in my

household, given birth to eleven species. I think I know a few things

about people. Thing one is that all people need to be touched." I was

quiet for a minute. "Victoria... even though you and I never slept

together, I know how physical a creature you were. Remember playing

flag football in the mud in that field behind the theatre?" She nodded,

her smile distant and wistful.

"That was a long time ago." She lifted her right hand and waved it in

front of me. "That was before this. That was before an accident took

away my arm and my leg." She smiled. "It's nothing."

"Nothing? You saved 82 people that day."

"Four people died anyway."

"Still... You're a hero. Don't dismiss that."

"Oh, I don't," she said. "Look at this room. It's hero worship of a sort,

Ken. They can't send me home; I'll die. So they stick me in the most

expensive nursing home in the galaxy. They let this nobel-prize-winning

cripple dote about her laboratory and sometimes they visit her and thank

her for being such an important part of Moonbase Tycho."

I stood up, grabbed my chair and planted it next to her. I sat down

besides her as she looked away. "I'm not going to ignore you or fawn at

you or dote on you."

"No, you're worse, in a way."

"Because I'm twice as old as you are?"

"No," she said firmly. "No, you were always meant to live forever,

Ken. It was obvious from the day we met you. Although I would like to

have seen what you looked like with grey hair."

"I'll dye it the next time I stop by."

"Do that," she said, smiling. I leaned down to kiss her smile, and she

let me. As I backed away again she said, "No, that's not it. It's because

you haven't changed at all. You don't hurt me because of what you are, you

do because of what you were. I remember you, walking around with a squirt

gun, and shooting me as I begged you not to. You remind me of what I had."

I stroked her cheek softly; her skin was wrinkled with age, but the

surface was still smooth. Her eyes were still bright. "I still want you,

Victoria. It isn't age, or beauty, or even ego that makes me want you.

It's simple honestly. I just remember the beautiful black woman who

spent a summer with me, who I held in my arms the night she cried as

her boyfriend left her."

She laughed. "And I used to think you didn't like me because I was black."

"I hardly think race was stopping me from paying attention to you. Look

with what I sleep with nowadays."

She nodded, smiling. "I used to wonder when it began."

"When what began?" I asked curiously.

"When we stop being people and start being machines." She tapped her

chest again, through the monk's robe she wore. "Is it when I get a bridge

for my teeth? Dentures? Contact lenses?" She smiled. "When do you start

thinking of Grandma as a cyborg?"

"What brought this depressing line of thought on?" I asked.

"I was just wondering when I stopped feeling. Did you know, Ken,

that every six months Beth checks to make sure the age spots on this

arm match the ones on my left?" She turned to me. "As much as I want

to give you what you want, as much as I wish the feelings were still

there... they aren't."

I nodded. "Can I still spend the night next to you?"

She looked over at me curiously. "Whatever for?"

"How about for old time's sake?" I asked, smiling. "How about, because

I want to?"

She thought about it quietly. "Very well," she said, smiling. "Maybe

those feelings aren't so dead after all."

"Hopefully not."

"Are you tired?" she asked, surprised. "I am, but I assumed you and your

friend would be getting sleep since you landed."

"I didn't get enough," I said softly. "Your dinner filled me, and I tend

to get tired after a big dinner."

She smiled and nodded, rising. "Come this way, then," she said, leading

me through a small door into a dark room that lit as we entered, the room

behind us darkening and the door closing. Her bed was large enough for

two, I guessed, the same size as the one K'meh and I were sharing. She

turned around and said "You're really determined to do this."

"Dammit, Vicki, this isn't necrophilia and it isn't altruism. I want you.

Is that so hard to get through to you?"

She shook her head and reached into her robe, tugging at a short string

that opened the whole thing to me. Underneath, her skin was still clean,

her breasts hadn't sagged all that much, although they had perhaps lost

some mass. The benefits of living in a low-gravity environment. I smiled.

"Do you still want me?"

"Yes," I replied, smiling. "Why shouldn't I?"

"Because you're so used to youth. All of your children, they all look

so young, strong, pure."

I walked over to her, my jacket and shirt unbuttoned, and pressed my bare

chest to hers in a tight bearhug. "Why should that make a difference at

all? They're that way because I don't want them to die, Vicki, not because

I want them to always be young." I sighed rested my head on her shoulder.

"I don't want you to die, either."

She sighed. "I wasn't meant to live forever." I dropped the subject like a

stone. Every time I had discussed the possibility of her Hallwalking, she

told me to not discuss it. I stepped back and undid my clothing, standing

before her naked as she stood with me. She smiled. "You look wonderful."

"As do you."

"Thanks," she said, taking my hand and leading me to bed. Her hand felt

frail in mine; despite the advantages of the lower gravity, one of the

problems inherent with it was the lack of resistance; there was little

reason for muscles to remain at the strength they have on Earth. She

turned on her side and I cuddled up behind her. I held her close and

together we fell asleep.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

With dawn I awoke to find her still lying against me. I was fascinated

by her body, so different from anything I had ever encountered before

or probably would ever again. It wasn't that I was erotically charged by

her pronounced and visible aging, or that I wondered what the experience

she was going through was like, so much as I merely found it so different

that I felt it worth exploring, worth touching. Like her.

She stirred as I ran my hand over her belly, her skin responding to my

touch only slightly. Her hand reached up to touch mine, and her eyes

opened slowly. "Maybe I'm not so old as I thought," she smiled. "I had

a strange dream last night."

"Memories of a man lying next to you?" I asked, smiling.

"No, not even that. Although having you lie next to me proved to me how

much I missed it."

"Enough to get out more often?"

"That remains to be seen," she whispered, squeezing my hand tightly. I

leaned over and kissed her softly, my left hand touching her belly

softly and then sliding down to probe delicately between her legs,

stroking through the thick, almost wiry pubic hair, which I bet if

I looked was a mixed silver and black as the hair on her head. Her

mouth felt warm against mine, warm and wet. Her vulva was just as warm

and just as human. With my fingers and with experience, I parted her

outer labia and slid a finger between them, playing with her lips and

her clitoris. She sighed slightly, a high-pitched "ieee..." sound. She

looked up at me. "I forgot..."

"Forgot what?" I asked softly, stopping for a moment. "Don't tell me

you don't masturbate anymore."

She shook her head. "I thought I was getting to old even for that."

I slid my fingers across the top of her clitoral hood. "Victoria,

you're never to old to play with yourself. Besides," I said smiling,

"You haven't got a heart to fibrillate." She smiled at me and I kissed her

lips again, sliding down her chin and across her breasts briefly. There

was an unfamiliar, musky scent to her that I refused to categorize,

even to myself. The scent was replaced with a much more familiar scent

when I slid between her legs. I kissed the top of her mons and her hands

clutched at mine, my arms stretched out before me over her body.

She moaned again, that high-pitched "Iee!" sound. Her body shuddered

under my tongue as I licked at her cunny, trying (and losing) my

argument with her pubic hair as to where it belonged. She began to

thrust her hips upwards; I had to clamp my hands down on her thighs

to hold her in place. Her voice's pitch climbed higher, reaching for

notes even beyond my hearing. I was wondering how much longer she could

keep this up; her body was curling in response to my every lick, until

she finally answered my question, screaming and pounding the mattress

with her fists. "Okay!" she gasped. "Okay, you've proven your point,

damn you!" I smiled and crawled up the length of her body, touching her

gently as I slid up to lie besides her.

She laughed softly as she wiped her brow of sweat that wasn't there. "I

haven't had a climax like that in nearly two years. How could I forget?"

"I dunno," I said, smiling. She reached down with her real hand, thin

and frail, and wrapped it around my penis. "When I was younger, I used

to play with these things a lot."

"Before or after the accident?"

"Both," she said. "The accident never slowed me down, Ken. I was boffing

male nurses even before I had the borgings fit on."

I laughed. "That sounds like you. You just let age catch up to you?"

"Age and depression," she sighed, her hand slowly stroking my cock. "I

got over the depression," she said, smiling, "But not the age."

I nodded, slowly easing myself over and between legs. She smiled up

at me, her hands reaching up to my shoulders, as I slid my cock into

her. Her eyes closed fast, her mouth open, a soft gasp. "Oh, yes..." she

sighed. I made love to her slowly, stroking deep within her cunny; she

pressed her hips upwards with every stroke. We began to make love with a

little more urgency, pressing up against each other, kissing as we made

love and my climax rose on soft cat feet to explode within me and her,

a tiny explosion of desire and pleasure.

I looked down at her and said, "Victoria, you're still a lovely woman,

inside and out."

She laughed brightly and looked up at me. "You're right," she said. "Even

at eighty-two I should have more lovers, right?"

"Right!" I laughed. "When I was your age I had a dozen lovers."

"I should be thankful I only have you chasing me," she said. "Oh!"

"Are you okay?" I asked. That hadn't sounded like a happy "Oh!"

"Yeah," she smiled. "Don't go acting like I'm some frail old woman just

because I am. My back hurts once in a while, Ken. Part of that's your

fault, you know... It's been a long time since I had sex with someone."

I smiled and leaned over to kiss her. "I missed you sometimes."

"You have memories that go back that far?"

"Remember that biocybernetics is Pendor's premier science. I can remember

anything I want."

"'We can remember it for you wholesale.'"

"Something like that," I said, smiling and recognizing the reference. "We

should get dressed."

"Shouldn't we shower first?"

"What about the water restrictions?" I asked.

"I don't pay attention to those. I guess they figure I'm going senile."

I laughed and shook my head, joining her in the shower. We were efficient,

however, and tried not to waste any water.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

"Missed you last night," K'Meh said gently.

"I know. I just needed to..."

She reached out and touched my arm. "You don't need to explain," she

whispered, pulling me close to her. "I understand."

I smiled at her. "I'm glad someone does," I replied. "I'm going to spend

the day at the medical conference. Want to join me?"

She stuck her tongue out. "Doctors. I'm going to go talk to some of the

pilots; see if I can convince one of them to take me up in one of their

'Shoppers.'"

"'Shoppers?'" I asked. "What's that?"

"Short Hopper. It's what they call a vehicle that can just make lunar

orbit. They use them for all sorts of things."

"If it can make lunar orbit and back, theoretically it could make it to

Earth. That's no short hop."

"That's what they call them," she replied, smiling and struggling on a new

set of flight overalls. "I'll see you later," she said, kissing my cheek.

"See ya, K'meh," I said as she disappeared out the door. I shook my

head, pulled on a set of clean clothes myself, and then spent the

opening session of the day taking notes. Although I found the medicine

fascinating, especially when the subject of genetics and drift came up,

I was relieved when Commander Scheider invited me for lunch.

As our lunches were served, Scheider started the conversation with "So,

how do you like our moonbase?"

"It's nice," I said. "The food's better than we have on our fast

starships. One of the problems with our starting out with an FTL drive. We

didn't bother to work on life support quite so strongly as you did."

"Yes," Scheider replied. "Your materials technology specialist has been

taking notes almost nonstop since you arrived. I must admit that I find

working with your people fascinating."

"Why is that?"

"The difference in technology and thrust." He smiled, slightly

embarrassed. "As well as the overwhelming evidence of their alien origin.

If I were dealing with you, I'd have trouble remembering that you were

from another planet. I can't forget it with them."

I grinned. "I can understand that. I can walk around unnoticed. Tell me,

have you had any complaints from atmospherics life support regarding

fur in the filters?"

"No," Scheider replied musingly. "Not that I know of. Then again, there

are only five of your people around. Do they shed that much?" he asked.

"Not particularly. I was just making sure they weren't being a nuisance.

After all, ALS tends to be some rather critical, and delicate, machinery."

He nodded as he dug into a rather typical hamburger. The conversation

was typical and light for the rest of the meal; I was surprised that he

completely avoided the subject of Victoria Stoneman.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

"Hi," I said, peeking out from the covers as K'meh came tripping in,

light as a feather even in one-sixth gravity. "K'meh?"

"Huh?" she asked. "Oh, you're awake! I had so much fun today. We went

lunar buggy riding. That's insane! It was incredible!" She laughed, and

I laughed along with her. She stripped out of her clothing and snuggled

up against me. "So, Ken, are you going to keep your end of the bargain?"

"What bargain?" I asked. "I said I wanted a roommate, not backup."

"You said 'A little bit of both,'" K'meh murmured. "I think I want a

little bit of the 'up' part," she laughed.

I laughed along with her and turned over to face her. "You're in a brutal

mood tonight."

"Oh, brutal," she said, flinging the covers back and grabbing my

still-flaccid penis in her paw and stroking it slowly. It came to life

pretty quickly under her urging and the moment I was hard she slid down

over it, sliding it deep inside her, cooing loudly. "Yes..."

I grabbed her hips and pressed up deep into her. "Oh, yes," she gasped

against. My body complained at what I was putting it through, and every

thrust threatened to fling us from the bed in the unfamiliar gravity, but

we held together, her tongue hanging out the side of her muzzle as we made

love passionately, holding onto each other until we both climaxed loudly.

She smiled down at me. "We'll have to do that again."

"Some other time." I smiled. "I'm still trying to get some sleep."

She snuggled close and wrapped her arm around my back; I shifted back to

get as much contact between us as I could. I sighed and closed my eyes.

With a pilot's understanding of the need for sleep, K'meh was already out,

and I managed to fall asleep almost as fast.

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The Journal Entries of Kennet R'yal Shardik, et. al., and Related Tales

are Copyright (c) 1989-2000 Elf Mathieu Sternberg. Distribution limited

to electronic media not-for-profit use only. All other rights are reserved

to the author.