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Subject: {ASSM} Journal Entry 171 / 0100  [ Geographic: The Eternal Answers  ]
Date: Mon,  2 Oct 2000 01:10:07 -0400
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        Christiane Sutpratthana leaned back in her chair with a mug in
her hands and her planner in her lap.  Three days into the voyage of a
lifetime and already she had become stuck with a quandary.  Her planner
was her way of keeping her life in order; it had traveled with her
through all seven continents of the Earth and had never failed her.
Now, however, it had become a source of confusion as she realized that
the dates on its pages held little meaning.  Days were a phenomenon of a
spinning world; years of an orbiting one.  Neither had any meaning on
this starship, especially not when the entire crew of the ship held to a
different clock and a different calendar.  She turned the planner over
and admired the Geographic logo she had ironed onto its cloth front.
She had worked hard to acquire that logo and the associated benefits
that went with it.  And now a career of capturing all manner of humanity
on film had been rewarded with this trip, this ultimate voyage of
discovery.

        Around the rim of the logo was the motto, "To explore, to map,
and to photograph the world."  She was going to be the first to
photograph another world.  True, Geographic had run photos taken by NASA
satellites, but this time the photographs would be up close, and
personal.

        She missed her cigarettes.  She had kicked the habit six years
ago, shortly after her diagnosis with lung cancer.  She had been lucky;
the cancer had been small and well-contained, and with surgery she made
a full recovery.  She had had moments, especially in the past couple of
weeks, where the craving had hit her.  This one was particularly bad,
but given that so far from Earth that it would take light years to get
from there to here, she would survive without them.

        A knock at the door startled her and she looked up.  "Come in?"

        The door opened.  She had been expecting Trellin, the Tindal who
had been assigned to her as an adjunct and guide.  Instead, one who had
overnight become the most recognizable human now living, Ken Shardik,
stood there.  "Do you mind company?"

        She recovered quickly.  "No, not at all."  She closed the
planner and placed it on the table.

        Her visitor took a seat around the tiny table crammed into the
corner of her cabin.  He touched her planner briefly, his fingers
tracing the edges of the patch.  "I wanted to come by and see how you
and the rest of your peers are doing, Ms. Sutpratthana.  And I wanted to
apologize for my theatrics two days ago.  I realize that I can be
insufferable at times.  My people are willing to slap me around a little
when I become insufferable but I expect Terrans would be a little more


        "Would you like me to be less timid?" she asked.

        "I would," he agreed.

        She smiled.  "I accept your apology."

        "Good.  So," he continued, "Is there anything I can do to help
you?"

        She thought for a moment.  "I don't think so," she said.  "I
would like an opportunity to talk further, if you would like that."

        "I would.  I'm free now."

        She opened her planner and found a blank page in the back.
"There's a great secret surrounding Pendor.  One concerning the
geography itself.  Your collection of maps is entirely about Earth;
there's not one reference in it to Pendorian maps, cities, towns, or
anything like that.  In some other documents there's mention of an Arc
or a Ring, and a mention of 'the first shadow of night.'  That appears
so often I don't think it's poetic metaphor.  Is Pendor really a world?"

        She saw a look of surprise cross Ken's face, followed by a slow
smile.  "You've been doing your homework.  Yes, Pendor is a world.  It's
at least as big as Earth.  And there are some oddities with the
geography.  We want to keep some of that a secret until we reached
Pendor.  I'm feeling a flair for the dramatic.  I'm sure in the first
few days you're there you'll be able to find more than enough to keep
yourselves busy for the entire year."

        "It's at least as big as Earth," she repeated.  "Is it any
bigger?"

        The grin grew large.  "Probably."

        "You won't tell me any more?"

        "No," he said.  "It's not in my nature to give away all my
secrets."

        She wrote that down in her book.  "Do you have any children of
your own?" she asked suddenly.

        "Um, No.  My partner and I do not have any children.  I don't
intend on having any children of my own genes at any time.  The
Pendorians are my children."

        "Your partner?  I was under the impression that Pendorians don't
marry."

        "Define 'marry' and come up with a universal definition.  I've
lived with the same fem for some twenty years now and we've been very
happy together.  We're not the same species nor are we particularly
monogamous.  We just find that living together is very comfortable for
us.  I love her and she loves me."

        "But you're not monogamous?"

        "I find it interesting that I mentioned that I was living with
someone who is not a human being, but you choose to focus on my lack of
monogamy. Anyway, no; monogamy doesn't make much sense to me.  I know
monogamous people on Pendor but not many.  Most of them engage in serial
monogamy; lifetime monogamy is as rare as the unicorn on Pendor."

        "Why is that?"

        Ken smiled.  "We're immortal."

        Christiane almost dropped her pen.  "You're what?"

        "Functionally unaging.  Barring exceptional gross trauma or
willful self-destruction, I will live as long as I choose.  The first
few generations of Pendorians were a little more fragile than we are
now, but some serious medical improvements in the past thirty years have
granted us a lease on real immortality."

        "How old are you, really?" she asked.

        "A hundred and thirty-two years old."

        "And you'll never die."

        "Oh, I imagine I might someday," he said.  "Probability will
catch up with me.  That's one of the reasons why Pendorians have such
low fertility rates; they have to match the rate of willful or
accidental self-destruction, which at this point is actually quite low."

        "But it does happen?" she asked.

        "Of course.  I would never stand between someone and their
decision to move on."  His smile looked forced and uncomfortable.
"That's our euphemism for suicide."

        "I see."  She sighed.

        "This is making you uncomfortable," Ken observed.

        She nodded.  "You too.  It's a bit of a bombshell.  The
differences between Earth people and your people will become much more
pronounced as time goes on."

        "Your people are within a century of discovering the secret,
Christiane.  It's really quite a simple secret, although the technology
to implement it is quite extensive."

        She tried to think of what to ask next and came up blank.  "I
can't think of anything else to ask suddenly."

        "I'm sure you will eventually," he said.  "Anyway, I'll leave
you to your notes.  By the way, if you'd like your calendar to be
printed with Pendorian dates, just ask Jamie and she'll have some
printed up for you when you get to Pendor.  On board, I'm afraid you'll
have to use the computer for it.  We don't carry much paper with us."

        She looked up at him.  "Thank you, Shardik."

        "You're welcome."



        She was still sitting there, trying to come to grips with that
one great secret Ken had told her when she was again interrupted by a
knock at the door.  "Come in?"

        This time, Trellin came in.  "I wanted to see how you were
getting along."

        "Are you really immortal, Trellin?" Christiane asked suddenly.

        Trellin stopped.  "He told you."  Christiane nodded.  "Yes, I
am.  I don't intend to live forever.  Maybe two hundred years.  I'm
already over forty and I can't see wanting to go on for too long."

        Christiane found herself envying this fem who had those kinds of
choices.  She had been trying for the past forty minutes trying to get
the idea out of her head when she realized that there was no solution
for it but to accept it.

        She made a note, then looked up at Trellin with a smile that
stretched from ear to ear.

        "What?" Trellin asked.

        "I just had an insight into your people that I didn't expect."
Christiane closed her notebook and zipped it shut.

        "Oh," Trellin replied.  "Was it a good one?"

        Christine nodded.  "An important one."

        "Then I want you to tell me about it.  Later.  Right now, I
wanted to ask you if you had made any choices regarding an on-board
exercise regimen.  While it's not compulsory it really is good for you."

        Christiane sighed.  "I'm sure it is.  What do you have on
board?"

        Trellin looked up at the ceiling with an expression Christiane
read as clearly exasperated.  She knew Trellin had listed the options
before; she had merely forgotten them all.  "We have two jogging tracks,
only one of which is open right now.  We have a very large swimming
pool.  You don't even have to do laps; just spend an hour treading water
if you must.  We have a weight room with a wide variety of equipment,
wider now that we've been to Earth, although some of it looks more like
torture equipment.  There are even water polo and water volleyball
games.  There are organized exercise regimens.  We would like to have a
martial arts instructor on board but, unfortunately, they're both on
Terra studying under Terran masters who probably have a lot to teach
them.  And a lot to learn from them."

        Christiane looked up at her guide with a smile.  "I don't have a
swim suit."

        "What's that?" Trellin asked, surprised.  "A suit for swimming
in?  The pool isn't that cold.  It should be around 30."

        Christiane found herself thinking she'd been living in the
United States too long.  Raised in eastern France, she had never thought
of swimsuits as a necessity before moving to the States.  She smiled.
"Let's head to the pool."

        Trellin nodded as Christiane rose.  "What's a swim suit?" she
insisted.

        "Modesty suit."

        "Oh," Trellin responded.  "Silly humans."

        "Silly Pendorians," Christiane mocked back in a ritual built in
only a few days of knowing one another.  She liked Trellin immensely.
"Show me this swimming pool."

        The swimming pool took Christiane by surprise.  "It's big."  It
was far larger than those she had seen on luxury cruise liners back on
Earth.  It seemed a lot of water for such a small ship. "Why?"

        "Dolphins use it," Trellin said, pointing into the water.

        Christiane noticed two dolphins racing back and forth inside the
pool.  Another surprise were the two apparently young children playing
near one end, a guardian clearly of a different species watching them
closely.  "There are children on board?"

        "Yes," Trellin replied.  "We bring our families."

        "I hadn't anticipated that.  Nobody told us."

        "We didn't announce it.  It didn't make sense to do so; the
parents would make excellent hostages and the children were allowed down
to the surface only in secret."

        "They've been on this ship all this time?"

        Trellin nodded.  "They're the only ones on this ship.  I imagine
it has been hard for them but children are quite adaptable.  I'm
confident they aren't harmed by this experience."

        "Where do I put my clothes?"

        "There are stations over there " Trellin pointed to a collection
of cubby holes "And there are towels there.  Just drop them in that
hamper and someone will bring them in to be washed."

        Five minutes later Christiane stood naked at the edge of the
pool and wondered if she really looked as awkward as she felt.  Most of
the crew around her were both young and beautiful.  She should have
known to expect that by now.  Knowing that they never grew old, that
they had far superior medical technology on their side, and that these,
at any rate, were professional military personnel, exemplars of their
individual races, she should have expected them all to be beautiful.
She didn't even know what age would look like on some of the feline
species; at any age, cats tended to have a grace all their own.  She, on
the other hand, had 40 years of Earth's gravity dragging down at her
body; even having a small chest hadn't saved her from the visible
effects of sag.  She slipped under the water and hoped nobody looked too
closely.

        Wanting to be invisible was unusual for her; she had never been
afraid of being the center of attention before.  It was only amongst
this amazing array of furred and not-so-furred bodies that she felt
self-conscious.

        A sleek, grey form slid past her in the water and she started.
The dolphin turned an easy circle and came back towards her, nose first.
She felt a peculiar sensation in her belly.  Then a voice, calm and
self-assured, spoke to her.  "You're one of those humans from that
Geographic magazine, aren't you?"

        She turned and looked to see a small silver ball hovering next
to her.  "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you," the voice from the ball
said.  "I just wanted to look you up close."

        "Who are you?" she asked the ball.

        "Me, here.  The one in the water.  You're talking to my remote.
Which is a bit like bending over to address someone's left hand."

        She turned to the dolphin.  "You?"

        "Me.  My name is a collection of whistles and clicks, so just
call me Bead.  Which may not be a very musical chord, now that I think
about it."  The dolphin whistled what Christiane took to be a laugh.

        "Wow.  What do you do on this vessel?"

        "Security," the dolphin replied calmly.  "Although most of it
consists of telling robots what to do, and not very much of that since I
can't remember us ever having a security problem.  But this vessel needs
a set of living eyes to look over it and that is my job."

        "I see," Christiane said, ever more curious.  She felt the
missing weight of the camera about her neck.

        "So you've met our venerable Bead."  She saw Kennet Shardik
swimming towards her.  Like everyone else in the room, he was stark
naked.  "Heya, Bead."

        The dolphin didn't respond in English, but instead directly
clicked and whistles to him.  He nodded.  "Sounds like a good idea.  Are
they?"  More whistles and clicks.  "Interesting.  But not a threat?"
More clicks than whistles.  "I guess that'll do for now."  Shardik
turned towards her.  "Apparently Bead thinks your peers could prove
restless and troublesome."

        "I don't think they're going to be that much trouble.  It's a
long voyage; people get restless," she said.  Unclothed, Shardik was
actually something of a handsome young human.  Pale skin on his chest,
but his arms and legs were very hairy.  He wore his hair long although
for swimming he had restrained it with the some kind of rubber band.

        "True," he commented.  "But you have to appreciate that the idea
of staying holed up in a vessel for several months is something that
hasn't been a normal part of the human mindset for decades.  I believe
only Lisanne has done anything even remotely like it.  And there's the
added stress of trusting us."

        Trellin joined them in the water, swimming with a peculiar
grace.  "Ken!" she said, grabbing him and pulling him down into the
water with a hug.  When they came up, she kissed him on the cheek.

        He sputtered and shook his head to clear the hair from his eyes.
"Trellin!" he said.  The tone was angry but his eyes smiled.  "Do you
mind?  Not in front of the guests."

        "They're going to learn you're a lovely and lascivious old man
eventually," she said.

        "Maybe so, but hopefully not today."  He hugged her close, then
looked up at Christiane.  "I didn't expect you to find me in the
altogether quite so soon."

        "I grew up in a country that didn't have quite the nudity taboos
of the United States, which I understand is your country of origin.
Although your command of both English and Japanese is quite impressive,
you're not a native of Japan.  And I've seen analysis of the slang you
use indicating that you were born in the US rather than the UK or an
English-speaking province."

        "I see," he said with a grin.  "I hope you don't expect your
experts to have gotten everything down perfectly."

        She returned the grin with a casual expertise.  "No.  And I
won't pry.  It's not why I'm here."

        "Of course it is."  He turned his head.  "The fem I came here
with is waving her arms to get my attention.  I'll talk to you later,
Christiane."

        She nodded.  Trellin remained with her, shaking her head.  "He
can be quite exasperating."

        "So he said."



        Christiane found herself writing furiously in her notebook that
night after dinner.  Her realization about Pendorian immortality had her
thinking.  And something else.

        A knock on the door again distracted her.  Trellin walked in and
smiled at her.  "How's your reporting coming?"

        "Quite good," Christiane replied.  "Although I seem to be
getting the lion's share of Ken's attention.  I talked with Jack and
Wolf and they hadn't quite had the privileges Ken has bestowed on me.
And that act at the pool-- is he really that suggestive to all females?"

        "Fems," Trellin said.  "Sometimes.  He does seem to like you,
though."

        "I see," Christiane said.  Her heart was beating loud in her
chest as she decided to admit something.  "Trellin, how do I deal with
that?  I'm not... I'm a lesbian."

        "You are?" Trellin responded.  Christiane got the impression
from Trellin's tone that being a lesbian was hardly a big deal but not
knowing about it was something of an inconvenience.  "Why didn't you
just tell him that the first time he tossed a flirt at you?"

        "I didn't know what to do.  You don't just tell the head of
state right out that you're not interested in bedding him, do you?"

        "You do on Pendor," Trellin replied, somewhat angrily.
"Especially in a tight and forcibly intimate situation like the one we
have here!  Jamie, are you there?  Pass that note on to Ken with my
signature, would you?"

        "Got it," the AI responded.  "And welcome to the sisterhood,
Christiane."  There was something like an electronic chuckle from the
speaker.

        "What does that mean?" Christiane asked.

        The AI responded, "It means that as I was maturing through
incorporation shock I chose a feminine identity and I seem to get along
with other feminine identities better than I do masculine ones.  It does
not mean that I'm any less functional with mels, I just prefer to have
social banter with fems."

        "Oh," Christiane said.  She could imagine the Pendorians being
queer but the idea of their computers identifying as gay or straight
disturbed her slightly.  She had come to accept Jamie as a part of the
crew, and even come to accept Jamie's chosen sexual identity, but that
the computer should therefore have a sexual orientation hadn't occurred
to her before.  "Do you have sex?"

        The computer giggled.  It actually giggled, Christiane thought.
"That depends on what you mean by 'have sex.'  I guess I would have to
say that I don't have sex.  I just prefer to be in the company of
women."

        "Oh."  Christiane swallowed.  This was going to take some
thinking.  She looked up at Trellin, wondering if the confusion was that
clear on her face.

        Trellin apparently thought it was because she laughed.  "Don't
worry, Christiane.  You'll get used to us eventually.  You have to
realize that even though some of us may look like you, we are not like
Terrans at all.  We're a different culture with different behaviors
entirely."  She took the seat opposite.  "Can I ask you a question,
Christiane?"

        Christiane was taken aback.  She hadn't expected to be the
subject of curiosity on the ship; most of the Pendorians had treated her
deferentially.  "I-- Sure."

        "If you're a lesbian, are you attracted to me?  Before you
answer that I have to say something.  I'm not asking that because I
think all homosexual people are always and only interested in sex.  I
understand that a lot of people think that way-- on Pendor as well as
Earth.  I'm asking because I'm finding myself interested in you."

        Christiane looked at Trellin's face, trying to understand those
uncompromising green eyes that stared back at her, so disturbing without
pupil or iris to mark where Trellin was looking.  Although her face was
covered in a light-blue fur and topped with a black nose, it was still a
face Christiane could read.  And she saw both concern and worry there.
She reached out with one hand and took Trellin's.  "Is this called a
hand or a mitten?"

        "Either," Trellin said, looking down at the long, darkly-colored
fingers surrounding her mitten.

        "I think I like you, Trellin.  I can't say I'm wholly attracted
to you but I'm intensely curious about you, and for a photojournalist
like myself that can be an exciting feeling all its own."

        "So " Trellin pulled Christiane's hand close to her lips and
kissed Christiane's hand softly.  "Is this okay?"

        "Trellin, what will happen if your people find out you're trying
to seduce me?"

        "Probably nothing, unless my feelings for you or your feelings
for me get in the way of your doing the task you came to Pendor to
accomplish."

        "Is that all?  No hints of impropriety?"

        "Making my charge happy is the most proper thing in the world,"
Trellin said with a voice matter-of-fact.  "If you want, I can drop it
and forget about it and we can do our jobs efficiently.  You aren't
going to Pendor to have sex after all."

        "That doesn't mean I can't make friends with the natives,"
Christiane said.  "What-- what would it be like?"

        "You'll have to find out for yourself," Trellin said with a
grin.  "We're physically compatible, if you're curious."

        "I think I knew that already."  Christiane grinned as she said
it.  "Even physically.  Come here."

        Trellin stood up and walked around the table, standing before
her.  Christiane took her mitten and pulled her down into her lap.
Trellin sat with a smile.  Christiane lifted one hand to the Tindal's
face and guided their mouths together.

        To Christiane, Trellin kissed like she'd been born to do nothing
else.  She's always had trouble finding lovers who kissed well, but
Trellin understood what she wanted a second after contact.  Mouths
partially opened, lips caressing lips and tongues wetting tongues,
Christiane held her breath long enough that she felt dizzy when they
parted.  As she gasped to take in air, she rubbed her cheeks, humming
with thoughts.  "Your fur, it tickles me.  A little.  And it itches."

        "That is a common problem with humans and furries.  Or even with
just two furries.  Rubbing fur the wrong way."  Trellin smiled.  She
leaned over and kissed Christiane again.

        This time the kiss was more frenetic, more intense.  Christiane
felt like she finally knew what she was doing here, at least in the
small little room with this curiously wonderful woman in her arms.  She
had known many lovers over the years and the assignments; from India,
Africa, and of course America, as well as many other places, she had
taken many beloveds and many of them she still called friends.  They had
come in all shapes and sizes.  But none of them had ever had fur.  She
wondered if she should perhaps consider her act bestial.

        But the kisses raining down on her from Trellin's mouth
distracted her from such thoughts and she found herself responding in
old familiar ways.  She nibbled on the curve of Trellin's chin; Trellin
kissed her cheeks, her nose, her forehead.  "You have beautiful hair,
Christiane."

        "Your people have good shampoos."

        Trellin giggled.  "We had better."

        "I can see that," Christiane murmured.  She pulled Trellin
close, allowed herself to inhale the warming scent of Trellin's fur.
There was no artificiality about it, not a hint of the kinds of scents
used in shampoos or soaps.  Trellin's scent was all her own and
Christiane found it fascinating.  She bravely slid one hand up between
Trellin's legs, and the Tindal squirmed under Christiane's probing.  "If
you're going to do that," Trellin sighed, "We should move to the bed."

        "Then let's do that," Christiane agreed softly.

        Trellin rose and led Christiane the short distance to the bed.
Christiane wondered if it was large enough for the two of them, but
she'd made love in smaller spaces and in crazier places.  Well, she had
made love in places where both she and her lover could have been killed
for holding hands, but she doubted any place could be crazier than
aboard a starship in the middle of a trip so many millions of kilometers
long.

        Christiane sat down on the bed but Trellin remained standing.
She shook her way out of her jumpsuit with a single shrug and stood
before Christiane without a word.

        Christiane found herself wondering what she was looking for.
Without a doubt Trellin was both very feminine and very alien.  She had
wide hips and a bit of a belly; her shoulders looked strong but from
them hung two tentacles that sometimes reminded Christiane chillingly of
snakes, especially in the way they moved.  She had a short neck, large
ears, and right now a very wide grin.  "What do you think?"

        "I think I'm in for the experience of a lifetime," Christiane
replied.  "Come here."

        The naked Trellin sat down again in Christiane's lap, but this
time Christiane had a chance to run her fingers along her lover's naked
and furred back.  Trellin seemed to purr slightly as she ran her fingers
down her spine, finding familiar shapes hidden beneath all that fur.
Her lips poised to kiss Christiane's and they both welcomed the renewed
kisses and touches of the evening.  "I want you," Trellin said softly.

        "For how long?"

        "Tonight," Trellin said.  "Tomorrow we'll review."

        "That sounds right," Christiane agreed.  She shifted her weight
slightly and allowed Trellin to fall down onto the bed on her back.  She
stood up herself and removed her own clothing.  She had taken a ship's
pants and jacket, wondering how Trellin dealt with the task of removing
the entire jumpsuit to use the toilet.  That was the one thing about
those jumpsuits that she thought would drive her crazy.

        She got into bed next to the naked Tindal.  "So, are there any
real differences between us?"

        "Not really," Trellin asked.  "I have a lot more fur, maybe."

        "There is no maybe about that," Christiane chuckled.  "But what
else do you have?"  She ran her fingers up Trellin's leg, against the
lie of the other fem's fur, upwards to that sacred spot between
Trellin's legs.  She hoped that Trellin had been telling the truth, that
there were no differences.  As she got closer, her hand became warmer as
she could feel the heat coming off Trellin's vulva.  Trellin seemed to
hold her breath; Christiane was determined to get it out of the other
fem and kissed her hard.  Trellin gasped as Christiane's hand cupped her
sex; she parted her legs to give Christiane the reach she wanted.
Christiane felt the soft lie of fine fur and the moisture of a woman in
heat.  Whatever differences there were between them, that was not going
to be any different.  Trellin's body squirmed against her own; the fur
tickled at the edges where their bodies met but otherwise she could find
only the wonderful thrust of an experienced lover pushing back at her.
The muscles between Trellin's thighs tensed repeatedly as Christiane
massaged her mound.  She eased one finger between the swollen lips of
Trellin's vulva and found both familiar wetness and familiar shapes.
She slowly eased her hand away from the blue-furred fem's body and
lifted it to her own lips.

        Trellin gasped.  "What do you think?"

        "You're very beautiful," Christiane said.  Her hand strayed
downwards again, this time hovering over Trellin's breasts.  Christiane
found them very soft and for some reason the texture of Trellin's
breasts made her smile.  She leaned over and kissed those breasts,
feeling the fur on her lips, finding one of Trellin's nipple through it
and nipping it.  Trellin moaned.

        Christiane parted Trellin's legs just a little more, enough to
get between them fully.  She found Trellin's vulva looked very familiar;
the flesh was pink and fully flushed; her pubic hair was little
different from the fur on her breasts and belly; perhaps it was a little
thicker but also finer.

        She kissed Trellin's mound and Trellin pulled her knees up into
the air.  "Yes, Christiane.  Please."

        Christiane kissed around Trellin's mound, sliding a finger into
Trellin's opening.  Inside, her body felt even more similar to a human
woman's.  She found Trellin's clit and teased it with her tongue.
Christiane glanced upwards along Trellin's body and surprised herself
with the look; with her eyes closed, the smell and taste were very human
but now, looking up, the great expanse of blue fur drove home the
alienness of the woman she was making love to.  Christiane closed her
eyes again and pressed her mouth hard against Trellin's vulva, enjoying
the taste and smell of the Tindal's sex.

        Trellin's moans were soft but insistent.  Christiane wanted to
hear the satisfying sound of a woman in need; she flicked her tongue
over Trellin's cunt and the Tindal moaned louder.  Christiane tried not
to smile too much as she kissed and loved Trellin.  The Tindal's orgasm
came hard and fast, a shuddering of lovely limbs and the sound of a
desperate voice.  Christiane dragged it out as long as she could.

        Trellin sat up and pulled Christiane's face to her own, kissing
and licking her juices off Christiane's willing smile.

        "Oh, Fah, you are great," Trellin gasped.  Trellin eased
Christine down next to her, holding her close.  "Thank you, Christiane.
Thank you."

        Christiane hummed briefly, accepting the praise.  She caressed
the blue-furred fem gently as they held one another, then felt Trellin
release her.  "You have such a beautiful body," Trellin said softly.

        "Don't lie to me, Trellin.  Compared to everyone else on this
vessel I'm the one who looks ancient."

        "No, you don't understand us," Trellin said, smiling down at
her.  "I like the way you look.  Because we live so long our bodies are
made to not change.  Humans Terran bodies change with time.  You wear
your history on your outsides and that's what's so beautiful."  She
kissed one of Christiane's breasts softly.  "You're so beautiful.  You
look like you've had so much life."  Her mouth touched Christiane's
belly, then her mound.

        Christiane parted her legs, taking Trellin's words to heart,
putting aside all the thinking she'd have to do much later.  Right now
Trellin's mouth was sending waves of warmth through her belly and she
heard moans before she realized they were her own.  Trellin's mouth was
talented but she wanted more.  "Your mitten, Trellin-- can you?"

        Trellin looked up, her face creased with thought.  "I think so.
Do you have anything slick?"

        "Bag under the bed.  Blue and white tube."

        Trellin found the container Christiane mentioned, squirting a
small amount of the stuff onto her mitten.  Christiane felt that mitten
squirming against her opening, Trellin's opposable thumb opening and
pressing.  Trellin's mouth again found her mound and the twin sensations
of Trellin's warm mouth and her probing mitten made Christiane's head
swim.  Again the alien sensation of Trellin's mitten brought the
strangeness of tonight to clarity in Christiane's mind, a clarity was
easily swept away by Trellin's insistence.  Christiane moaned loudly and
pushed down, letting Trellin's rolled mitten sink into her sex.  That
alone drove her over the brink; she couldn't hold back the scream that
tore itself out of her as she came.  Her climax rolled on and on through
her body for nearly half a minute before she could even begin to
recover.

        When she could look up, Trellin was lying next to her.  The
Tindal grinned and said, "You were amazing."

        "Me?" Christiane replied.  "You were perfect!"

        Trellin kissed Christiane warmly.  "I'm glad to hear that," she
whispered.

        The two women cuddled for a while.  Christiane couldn't help but
smile as they lay together, but eventually Trellin roused herself and
sat up.  "I'm going to go back to my quarters, Christiane."

        "You sure?"

        "The bed is too small," Trellin.  "And I'm still a little-- I
still want to keep us apart, not a couple.  I just wanted to help you
feel happy."

        Christiane reached up with one hand.  Trellin took it.  "You did
that," Christiane agreed.

        "Then I've done what I wanted.  I'll do it again if you like."

        "I will like.  Soon."

        Trellin nodded.  "See you tomorrow.  We'll talk."

        "Yes."

        As the door closed behind Trellin, Christiane settled down onto
the bed, letting out a deep sigh, letting go of tension she hadn't been
aware she'd been holding in.  She rose from the bed and sat at her
table, taking out her notebook again.  She tried to get her thoughts in
order.  She looked down at what she had written and continued her
earlier writing.

    If pregnancy as we knew it fifty years ago was an imposition we
    could no longer tolerate, then death as we know it is also an
    imposition that Pendorians have decided they cannot tolerate either.
    But one of the purposes of contraception and abortion is to give
    women the same power and rights over their bodies that men have--
    the right to not have children.  If that difference in power between
    men and women is addressed by reproductive technologies, what
    imbalance does immortality address to Pendorians?  Maybe it's that
    one imbalance that will always exist, no matter what: us versus the
    universe.  Even granting immortality barely tips the scales, these
    people are so much a part of the physical world around them, just
    like us.

    And Trellin-- she told me that she adored my body because it changed
    with the passing years.  There's something infinitely sad about a
    people who never change.  I feel a little like Wendy in the Land of
    the Lost Boys.  Trellin is clearly grown up-- but does she ever get
    past it?  I suppose avoiding the midlife crisis is a plus.  I wonder
    if aged maturity is all it's cracked up to be.

    Make a note: look up the oldest Pendorians.  Not the tleel (check
    spelling) or centuries (same) but the children of those.  The ones
    who grew up and are a hundred years old.  What are they like?  Do
    they have their own children?  If I can find a few who are ninety
    years old who have children who are twenty-- The lack of difference
    will be shocking.

        She closed the notebook and put it away again.  Exhaustion
finally overtook her and she lay down again.  She wondered if Trellin
would be as lovely to her eyes, and if she would be as lovely to
Trellins's, in the morning.


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

--
Elf M. Sternberg, rational romantic mystical cynical idealist
http://www.halcyon.com/elf/

Fast food restaurants are like gay bathhouses in San Francisco, 
places where people go to engage in high-risk behaviors.
		- Greg Critser

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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