*
“Nice,” he said, as her tiny compartment opened into a mountain vista, stark barren peaks at the summits, with caps of snow, and forested bases lying under blankets of white. The sky seemed infinitely deep overhead. “I like that. It’s almost better than the VR room.”
“You can’t walk around in it, but this image is one of my favorite retreats,” Julie said, settling into a cross-legged sitting position beside him on the bunk. She lifted his arm and placed it around her shoulders.
“Mm,” he said, leaning back against the wall. He had her pillow tucked behind his back, but it was so small as to be useless against the hard wall. He decided to ignore the discomfort.
“Tell me what your favorite memories are of Earth,” Julie murmured, gazing at the holo.
“Mm?” He swallowed uneasily. He imagined the question being asked after the Earth was destroyed, when the planet of his birth was only a memory.
“I mean, what do you think about when you think of Earth? What do you miss most? Where do you come from?” She hugged closer, still gazing at the snowy landscape.
“Ah. Well, I’m North American—”
“I know that!”
“Oh—well, let’s see.” He thought a moment, his tongue feeling thick and awkward. “I grew up in Ohio, small factory town, couldn’t wait to get out. I—fell in love with the Rocky Mountains the first time I saw them—just like this.”
“Really? Me, too,” Julie said, nodding against his shoulder.
“But . . . I never got to live near them, except for a few months in piloting school. I lived on the East Coast after school, until I shipped up to L5 City and got training in space piloting.” The words brought back a surge of memories; he didn’t think of his past very often, and when he did, it was like letting in a dizzying rush of air.
“What did your family think about your going into space?” she asked, turning to peer up into his eyes.
“Well—uh—” His eyes watered.
“Uh-oh, did I ask the wrong question?”
“No, no, I just—well, my family all died before—I mean, in the Chunnel collapse . . . the English Channel . . . ?”
“Oh,”she sighed softly. “I’m sorry, John.”
“It’s okay, I’m over it now.” He laughed falsely. “I still have a niece, back in Iowa.”
She looked up again, and her blue eyes seemed dark and liquid and full of mystery and life. “Yes,” she said, touching his nose with her finger. “I can see that you’re over it.” She smiled and settled back against his shoulder. “My parents hated the idea of my going to space. They said it would age me prematurely. They said it was too dangerous. They said there wouldn’t be any decent men there.” She chuckled softly. “What do you think? Were they right?”
“About the men? Definitely,” Bandicut said, clearing his throat.
“Maybe most men,” she admitted. “But there are a few—”
“Nah. Stay away from ’em. There’s only one thing they want.”
“Oh? And that is?” She looked up, wide eyed.
“Er . . . to kiss your knuckles,” he stammered. “Every one of ’em. That’s it. Anything else, they couldn’t care less. Oh sure, they’ll tell you they want your whole body, and even your mind, but knuckles is it. Take my word for it.”
Eyebrows arched, she raised her hand and offered him her knuckles. He took her hand gently, and nibbled on the first joint of her middle finger. She giggled. “You said kiss, not nibble.”
“Oh—sorry!” He took a breath, dizzy with desire. “I meant, nibble.” He carefully kissed and nibbled all of the knuckles on her right hand. She hummed, laughing softly. When he was finished, she raised her left hand. “Knuckles?” he said. “Did I say knuckles? I meant . . . er, ears.”
“Ohh.” She carefully pulled back her hair and offered him an ear. He kissed it lightly.
“Ears?” he murmured. “I meant . . .”
“Mmm?” Her eyes widened, pupils dark and beautiful.
“Lips,” he whispered, and moved to kiss her.
“That’s what I thought,” she said, touching his mouth with her fingertip, before kissing him suddenly. “Men,” she said, after the first kiss.
“It’s all we want,” he whispered, and then they didn’t say anything more.
Until the comm chimed.
They paused, looking at each other. His hand was poised over the front of her shirt. Julie started to giggle, then stopped. Bandicut shook his head, thinking, it’s never going to happen, is it? Julie turned slightly to touch the buttons on the comm. She killed the sound, and activated the message receiver. “There,” she murmured, turning back to him. Her eyes, her smile, her tousled hair dazzled him. “Now . . . tell me again what men want?” she sighed, touching his hair.
“I think you should tell me what women want,” he murmured, touching her lips.
She pulled him down, a slow slide in the low gravity. “An honest man who knows how to treat knuckles,” she murmured, kissing his hand and then his ear and then his mouth. “And ears. And . . . lips.” His hand moved and settled on her right breast. “And . . . I think you’ve . . . mmmm . . .”
He was aware, as Julie pressed close to him and he smelled the warm musky scent of her arousal, of the quarx stirring unhappily in its corner of his mind. But if it said anything, he didn’t listen, and he certainly didn’t answer.
Chapter 24
Afterfugue
AS THEY LAY together in silence afterward, he gazed over the contours of Julie’s body, admiring the silhouette of her shoulder and arm and stomach against the flames of a holocampfire flickering beneath a tree canopy. He stroked her skin gently, touching the perspiration on her breasts, thinking that there was something magical about this moment that he would never feel again. Julie was still, her dark eyes gazing into the fire, only occasionally shifting to look at him. She touched his nose, smiled faintly, then turned to the fire again.
He felt the quarx coming out of hiding, like a frightened animal.
/// Is it safe? ///
Bandicut chuckled to himself. /Safe to look, but don’t touch. What did you think of all those pheromones?/
/// Ugh . . . ///
Bandicut squinted into the fire. /If that’s all you can say, you may return to your hiding place./
/// Well, you asked. ///
/Well, maybe I didn’t really want to know. If you’d like to take the rest of the night off and get some sleep, I’ll call you in the morning./
“Anything wrong?” Julie asked, her gaze shifting to study his eyes.
He shook his head as the quarx vanished back into seclusion. “Just a little internal dialogue I have every time I make love to a beautiful woman. Very boring stuff.”
“I’ll bet,” she said, rolling toward him with a laugh. “You don’t look bored to me.” She reached down and stroked him, and he felt himself rising with unexpected excitement.
Not again! he heard a distant, muffled voice cry. Then the voice was gone, and he heard only his own heartbeat and Julie’s murmurs as they pulled each other close once more.