“Nothing interesting EVER happens around here,” he grumbled through gritted teeth, girls passing outside, through the window taking notice of him as he fragmented enemy ghosts. The evening was warm and punctuated by fireflies, even flower-scented, so he left early, not knowing why, to soak up some of the natural ambience.
It was a college town, with an impressive variety of architecture, but the ups and downs of the fuzzy green hills scabbed with ancient stone walls affected him the most. He wasn’t sure why. He imagined as he walked a giant sewing machine tattooing the landscape with the walls, cutting nature into pieces, encapsulating her into so many tiny, tangible installments that tempted his free time like dvd features on a menu. All recorded and isolated, out of time, part of some plan. Reliable, and easy.
His trip ended, predictably enough, at the massive graveyard, a point of pride for the campus, something trite and cliche for a young person’s evening walk.
He cast his gaze about with the naive confidence of a true noble, to this and that stone monolith, angel, cross, six-pointed star and marker.
“Guess it’s all over for you,” he harrumphed, becoming aware that his motives for every little action he undertook were becoming increasingly mysterious to him. He frowned, quizzed, and felt suddenly drunk.
Then, the sky opened.
It was not unlike a flower of fire, a glorious, chuckling explosion of sunshine, localized above a Masonic pyramid–shaped mausoleum, and Jason started back, raising one arm to his head to defend himself.
“I’m FREE!” a female voice intoned to the world, but rather than finding a girl’s body at its source, or even determining a point of origin at all, Jason saw only a spark like Tinkerbell bouncing and leaping like a grotesquely aggravated Superball, threading the ground and the sky together all the way to the horizon.
Jason did a double take. An extra-terrestrial? It had spoken English. What...?
“Well, that’s just wonderful,” another female voice informed. Jason knew right where this was coming from. It was just behind him. He whipped around, and if he had seen anything interesting a moment ago, it was surely nothing compared to this.
Over her head, the fiery hole in the sky closed up. Its tendrils of purple gravity, or electricity, or whatever they were, were fading into an infrequently popping haze, like a bag of popcorn, that had missed its chance. The girl herself seemed haloed by the disturbance, which it now dawned on Jason had only lasted a few seconds, and might have been witnessed by nobody at all but him. A crown of fire on a head like that, with its tied back curling red hair seemed only too appropriate. That, however, was not her most striking feature.
She was nude, Jason observed, as she seemed to stare at the inside of her wrist. No, it was at a wristwatch. She adjusted it with her other hand as she read what it told her, and Jason realized that there were other things attached to her body. He wasn’t sure if they qualified as clothing. She wore form-fitting black foot covers of some kind, that looked as much like fish scales as they did like rubber, and never ventured up onto her slender ankles. He couldn’t make out the shape of her calves, because they were armored in some sort, all the way up to her padded knees, at least in the front, as though she were wearing shin guards. Her thighs seemed greased and the muscles shuffled as she tensed and flexed, adjusting her weight back and forth, from foot to foot, absorbing the data that her wrist computer gave her. She was naked, at least on her bikini area, and her freely poking out breasts, though she wore some kind of quarter-shirt over her upper back that caught her upper arms in thin horizontal straps. She struck Jason as a jock, or a goddess, or some competitor, out of place and lost, displaced from some thriving, shameless, openly brutal future sporting arena.
She dropped her arms to her sides, fixed her eyes on him, and began clipping over to him.
“Drop your pants,” she instructed him firmly. “Let’s fuck.”
“WAIT a minute,” he said, half indignantly storming and half pushed through the door of his crude, small apartment. The tingle running through his extremities made him imagine vents or blinds all over him opening and shedding light. The urge to giggle was uncontrollable.
“What? You WANT to fuck me, don’t you? You want to serve the common good? So let’s fornicate.”
What was happening to him? He felt high. He’d never been able to imagine circumstances like this, even in the periphery of his worst ennui and complaints, but he felt like he was coming apart at the hemming.
How had he even got her out of the graveyard?
“You told me it was a public place and there could be interference, even attempts at apprehension. I didn’t come here to hurt your society’s sentry men. But Jaina might, if I don’t get to her, so...”
He was stooped, staring at her. Angry.
“What?”
“You read my mind.”
“I read your body language.”
“No,” he said, again backing away from her encircling arms, “you responded to my thought as though I had spoken it clearly.”
She stood still.
Jason gasped, and resigned from the discussion. It was impossible to shame her, and see her naked at the same time.
“I only meant to speed things up...”
“You violated me,” he said.
She cracked a wicked smile.
“Then finally,” she purred, twirling some loose hair around her finger, “I am getting somewhere.”
“Why am I... drunk?” he asked, feeling inspired.
“Why? Oh, sorry.” She turned a tiny dial on her in-turned wristwatch thingey. He sobered up. “Is that better?” she asked.
“Oh, yes,” he said, and quickly they began fornicating.
“Your name?” he asked, as he planted kisses on her neck and she ambitiously and fascinatedly tore his clothes from him.
“Sara,” she said, and pulled him down on top of her.
“And you’re going to tell me what that hole in the sky was?”
“Can’t you feel it?”
“Urggh.”
She overturned him.
“What?”
“Sorry, Jason, but I have to be in control of this show.”
She tapped a dial on her wristwatch, having gotten him hard, and he fell dumb again.
She mounted him, sliding down and taking him full inside of her, and cried out and groaned her approval.
“Oh, yes!” she yelped as her breath quickened, “I’ll get a lot of stars out of this one.”
Her shin armor bucked and clicked on the wood floor as she recharged herself.
Jason was sitting on his big leather couch, naked. All the shades in the apartment were drawn; it was hot, smelled of garbage, and had become a haven for insects. He didn’t know how long it had been since he had gotten out. He didn’t know if his rent was due. If his job, if his friends, were still...
He didn’t know.
Sara squatted there, still in her shin armor, her black film shoes, though her shirt-thing had been discarded. There was no sight of it as she finely tuned her wrist computer with a tiny screwdriver she had taken from over her left knee’s guard.
She looked up at him as she turned.
He wanted to speak, but breath was sparse, and his ribs were heavy. He feared something, but he wasn’t sure it was a punishment. It was being used... But how could being used by a woman truly hurt him? It was....
He despaired. Finally, he spoke.
“Are you going to tell me what you’re doing?”
She had dropped her eyes to her maintenance performance, but sharply looked up at him again, amused and impressed by his ability to question her.
“What do you want to know?”
He didn’t say anything; only lowered his head in shame. She became somber, put the screwdriver to her knee-pad, which it absorbed mechanically with a faint whirring sound, rested her elbows on her knees, and faced him.
“There are two forces in the universe, Jason. They are Attraction and Repulsion. Attraction is social, female, sexual, and Repulsion is masculine, individual, and dark.”
Jason swung his head in an insane, laughing lament.
“No, women are passive, dark; men are solar, phallic. I took a course on it...”
Sara smirked.
“The male principle is Time. Physics. Dividing things up from each other into numbers and fields. The female reunites them. The female is love.”
Jason guffawed, sickly, into his chest, talking to no one in particular.
“I think you’re wrong on this.”
She enjoyed his frustration.
“I can transcend time, through sexual intercourse. I can bridge the gap between soul, and other soul. All women from my home can do this. We are trained experts at it.”
“Yeah,” he said, his head a whirlwind, “I noticed your kneepads.”
“We can leap through time and space as though it weren’t there, because it isn’t there, if we strongly, spiritually enough express a desire of Unity; this being accomplished best through the act of sexual Union with another.”
“So, why don’t you have elbow pads? Girl on girl action doesn’t buy you the cosmic ticket?”
Oh, she had picked a live one here.
“No, it doesn’t. But when done correctly, my skills can even break down the illusion of separate brains.
“THAT’S HOW I WAS ABLE TO READ YOU MIND, AND HOW I PUT MY THOUGHTS INTO YOUR SOUL, EVEN NOW.”
He started, wildly. He stared at her, a lethal stare.
“Don’t you do that again.”
She smiled.
“Don’t fear me, Jason. Fear belongs to the enemy.”
He drew deep, slow breaths, and settled down.
“What enemy?”
“Jaina is the usurper of whom I speak. She has infiltrated your dimension in a filthy attempt to spread fear and longing, the cowardly desire that breeds darkness and cuts loving, truthful couples away from each other. Given the opportunity, she will encourage Nature, the lower parts of man’s brain, and destroy social contact whenever possible, turning sex into a meaningless, empty venture. This is the female darkness of which you spoke, Jason. This is Nature. It is man in shadow, humans turned away from each other. A frightening society in which anything can happen, in which anything is plausible. This lawlessness must be averted.”
Jason shook his head disbelievingly, accepting the entire story. Sara helpfully toyed with her wristwatch’s controls. He raised his head.
“What can we do to stop it?” He hoped for more sex.
Sara stood. She walked over to him.
“By now, Jaina has most likely escaped this planet, Jason. We will need to defy time to pursue her. No vehicles in this world offer other alternatives.” She grabbed his ankles, one in each hand, and dragged his ass to the floor.
“To do this,” she said with his hips between her feet, “you know what must be done.”
He nodded up at her, spellbound.
“I’m ready.”
“Very well. We are about to leave your world, son of Adam. Say farewell. I must make love to you.”
Jason had never had a woman “make love” to him before then. He had watched them ride him, fuck him violently, even try to own him with their hands on the back of his head and their pelvises grinding him into silence, into submission... but not now.
Sara’s knee armor clicked ONE, TWO, onto the floor of his apartment, and she hovered over his beckoning, towering, nodding cock, and smiled down at him. She was a peaceful picture of affection.
Jason had taken acid twice, and knew what trails were. Watching her descend upon him in trails, visual echoes, he gasped, and fainted under her expert touch, and when he was awake again, she was riding him like a surfboard pointed out to sea, and the two of them were surrounded by stars and deep cosmoses.
“Just keep feeling me, Jason. You’re doing wonderfully.”
She authoritatively made love to him. He, obligingly, loved her, with all his heart and his soul and his willpower. It was easy. She wasn’t rough, and she wasn’t mean. In fact, it felt more natural than any sex he had ever known really could have felt. He wondered if a human, or Earth girl, or whatever, could really capture the perfect essence of the Act, with him on the bottom, and that sublime superfluousness above...
Sand ground into his shoulders. She was gone.
“Sara?”
The planet was white. The sky was black. There were no stars. Fitness Girl had left him here for no apparent reason, perhaps off to find some libidinal gas station.
He gradually got up, somewhat angrily naked, and started off toward a dark, rocky climb for civilization. Maybe the people of this planet had the technology to send him home, without fucking his brains out. He was pretty sure his balls were dry.
When he got to what appeared to be, ironically, a gas station, he found it empty, and he collapsed at a table in the office and fell asleep.
“Jason?”
He raised his head.
“Your name is Jason, I see. I read your mind. My name is Jaina.”
He stood, and backed against the wall. She smiled down at his nakedness, apparently pleased.
“I thought women of your world didn’t find nudity a big deal.”
“Well, yours is,” she blushed.
“What do you want to do with me?” he asked her.
“Well, if I have my way,” she said, eyes fixed on his member as she unfastened her belt from her pants, “we’ll both be happy.”
“You want to rule me. And my world. You want to use my body for space travel. You-“
She touched his lips with her index finger. She looked at his mouth, and then back up at his eyes. She smiled. She looked like a younger, suppler, more beautiful version of Sara.
“I’m a fugitive,” she said, dropping her pants. He was being pushed backwards to the ground. She had mental control of him. Damn it!
“You’ve apparently met one of my jailors,” she said, freeing her hair from its band and swinging a bare thigh over him. “Trust me, she wants to go back to my world no more at all than I do!” She started fucking him. Oh, the audacity! It was better than Sara.
“Jason, I want you to do something for me.”
“What?”
She smiled, convincingly.
“I want you to let me prove my story to you.”
God, he thought, it was so much better than Sara. He thought he knew why they’d had this girl arrested. She laughed, like a child.
“What?”
She grabbed his shoulder, and overturned him, so that he was mounted atop of her. She smiled up into his eyes, and nodded. He began working on her.
As he fucked, a subdued miracle to his eyes, omnidirectional from their location there began to appear wildlife, and trees, and shrubbery of every nature, and Jason knew he’d been had. Not just by one girl or by both girls, but by all girls, as sweetly scented flower petals cruised past his head as he took the young vixen. The effect accelerated as it had, his memory informed him, in “Star Trek 3: The Search For Spock” and he was too exhausted by his efforts to consider any possible ironies in the similarity.
He just knew he would be on this world, forever; with this girl, forever.