Black Steel (23 page)

Sleel dropped to his knees. He knew what to touch, and wasn't it a wonder to actually see it? It was quite beautiful and mysterious to look upon.

After a couple of minutes of him stroking her, Melinda said, her voice ragged, "Now, put it in now!"

Sleel didn't need any urging. He slid into her easily-she was so hot and wet!-and she began to buck. It took only three strokes for Sleel's orgasm to start, and Melinda's was already underway, her muscles clamping and releasing him as he spurted.

Oh, wow! Oh, oh, oh, oh, wow!

A few minutes later as he was lying next to her, she looked over at him and said, "You're still hard?"

So he was. "I guess so."

She grinned. "Well, then let's do it again."

So they did.

Four more times that afternoon they did it, before Sleel couldn't do it again. Melinda knew all kinds of different things, and when he was too raw to put it in her again, she taught him how to use his lips and tongue, and that was pretty amazing, too.

No question, it was a lot better than the time in the history room. A million times better, easy.

Why hadn't he discovered this years ago?

"Sleel?"

He blinked and saw Kee looking at him. "Huh?"

"You asleep on your feet?"

He laughed. "Nah. Just time-tripping. An old memory."

"Pleasant one, I hope?"

"Oh, yeah. First time I ever had sex."

Her smiled matched his. "This looks like a good place to have lunch. Want to tell me about it?"

"About my first time?"

"Unless it bothers you."

"Bother me? Nah. Sure, why not?"

They found a large and fairly flat rock in the sunshine that was warm despite the air's chill and sat side by side.

As they ate he told her about Melinda.

When he was done, she smiled. "You were lucky," she said. "A lot of people have a not-so-pleasant time of it the first one. "

"Voice of experience?"

She took a bite of the hard fruit she'd brought, a kind of pear, and chewed it thoughtfully. "Yep."

"So?"

"My first was an upperclassman at the boarding school I attended. I was thirteen, awkward, still trying to walk and balance the breasts and hips I had sprouted that summer. One moment I was a skinny kid climbing the rocks with the other pre-pubes, tumbling and sexless; the next it seemed I was drawing attention from older kids, male and female, who wanted to flirt and play games about which I had only vaguely heard.

"Felton was sixteen, a sports star, swimmer and shiftball player, muscular, like a big cat. He saw me in the pool doing my laps one afternoon. We usually swam nude or in nofric film for speed and that might as well be nothing for what it hides.

"I was impressed that this hero would stoop to speak to me, much less find me attractive. Two days after he began working on me, we went to his room. I didn't have a clue about what to do. He laid me on the bed, spread me open, and jammed himself into me. He lasted about forty-five seconds. All I felt was pain. When he was done, he rolled off me, saw the blood from my torn hymen, and said, `Shit, whyn't you tell me you never did it before?'

"He was mad at me for getting his bedclothes bloody. That was my welcome to lovemaking."

Sleel realized he had put his hand on her shoulder sometime during her recitation. In sympathy. To comfort her. As if apologizing for all men like Felton, or maybe for all the times when he himself had been less caring than he should have been. It surprised him.

She glanced at his hand and smiled. "It's okay, Sleel. I got over it."

He pulled his hand back a little too quickly.

"Hey?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you anyway."

He felt his stomach roil a little. For some reason her saying that reminded him of the moment when he had first put his hand on Melinda's leg, of that instant of gut-twisting fear all those years ago.

Now why was that?

She put away the remains of her lunch. "I think maybe when we get back we ought to start working on a soul for you," she said.

He blinked, not understanding. "I thought I had one already. Maybe it's buried too deep for you to see."

"Oh, I can see it just fine. I meant an external one." She patted her sword carrier. "I'll explain it as we walk."

Chapter TWENTY-TWO

THE PLACE Wu had camped twice before was almost as it had been the last time she had seen it. There was a bend in the river, and on the concave side, a thickly wooded plot of land that was nearly surrounded by water. One more good stretch of rain and the isthmus would likely be overcome, making the place an island. The narrow neck of land was already thinner than she recalled from last year.

The trees were tall and cast enough shade so that there was not much undergrowth. Probably there were other campers who came here, thinking the spot was their secret. That didn't matter to Wu. She was willing to share it with them, as long as it wasn't at the same time.

As she and Sleel worked their way toward the clearing near the river where she usually pitched her tent, he stopped, looking alert.

"Something?"

Sleel held up one hand in a gesture for silence. But after a moment, he shook his head. "Nothing. I've had the feeling of being watched a few times along the trail. Can't hear anything, haven't seen anybody. It's something . . . subsensical."

Wu understood the feeling. Like a name not quite remembered, a tickle or pressure inside your mind.

She had felt it herself, but dismissed it when there was nothing to back it up. "Stay alert," she said. "The galaxy needs more lerts."

Sleel laughed. "Gods, that's old. Primary ed joke."

"Pre-primary," she said. "At least."

They continued onward.

Cierto sat in his study, poring over input regarding Kildee Wu. The White Radio com alert chimed and he sat back, the custom orthopedia humming to stay with his new position. "Activate com," he said.

The face of his main spy on Koji lit the air and took form. "Patron," he said.

"Something?"

"The subject has gone to a resort area, hiking some thirteen kilometers along a little-used forest trail to a campsite next to a river."

"So? Some recreation is to be expected, is it not?"

"The man Sleel is with her. There is no one else in the immediate area."

Cierto frowned. He did not require that the woman be a virgin, that would hardly be possible for an adult female with any kind of life; still, he felt a stab of jealousy. "Has she become sexually intimate with this man?"

The spy shrugged. "We cannot say, Patron. They share a small tent for sleeping and direct observation within is not possible. Getting close enough to see more would risk being detected. "

"Hmm. Keep me informed of this."

"Of course."

After he discommed, Cierto steepled his fingers and considered the new information. Well, so what if she was intimate with the matador? He was not a factor about which to worry. True, the man had managed a fair defense of the old thief, but in the end, he had lost. Once you had beaten a man, he was beaten forever. While it bothered Cierto that another might be using what he considered his property without permission, he had not actually laid claim to that property yet. He had taken great pains, in fact, to maintain secrecy thus far. So, he would hold Wu blameless for this. When she knew the situation, it would be different. As for the matador? Well. He was a dead man in any event, and one could not make him more dead for his sins. It was of no importance. He had other things to worry about.

Sleel awoke, feeling somewhat stiff despite the thin air pad under his sleep sack. The open flap of the small dome tent faced the river and there was a sandbar that extended from just beyond the tent well into the water. The white sand glistened in the sunlight, the river's flow was a quiet gurgle. And Kee, naked, stood with the water swirling around her thighs. She was scrubbing herself with a biodegradable cleaner, working up a thick lather of suds. Vapor rose from her into the cool air.

Beautiful, he thought. Would that he had a camera to capture the sight. Sleel lay on his belly and watched her continue to bathe.

After a minute, she turned around, conscious of his gaze, but apparently unconcerned about her nudity.

They had seen each other naked often enough in the gym as they showered and dressed after a workout, hadn't they? Why would it be any different here?

"Morning," she called.

Sleel suddenly found that lying on his belly was becoming somewhat . . . uncomfortable. He shifted a little, to relieve the pressure. Just need to pee, he thought.

Kee squatted in the shallow water and allowed the river to rinse her clean. The soapy cleaner would feed natural bacteria in the water. Before the suds drifted a klick or two, they would be almost entirely gone, becoming a part of the environment and harmless. Kee was big on what she called no-impact camping.

When they left, the site would look the same as when they had arrived. They even buried their own feces sprinkled with a powdery compound that broke it down to a harmless residue.

"How's the water?" Sleel called.

"Cold," she said.

Not, he knew, cold enough. Sleel reached for his pants. Damned if he was going to climb out of the tent with his dick playing flagpole. It was getting more difficult all the time to think of Kee as a teacher and nothing else. He didn't expect that she felt anything for him that way, and he didn't want to risk, well, screwing things up.

Breakfast was of freeze-dried concentrates plumped with pure water distilled from the river. Fruit, cereal, zip-cooked soypro patties, container-heated bread. Something about the cool fresh air gave Sleel a powerful appetite, and even though none of the food was fresh, it was delicious nonetheless. They sat next to a small pellet stove that gave out more heat than light, but had a little bluish flame that flickered in the faint breeze.

Kee was telling him about her family.

"We have always been matriarchal, the name going with both sons and daughters. And the sword goes to whichever of the children decides to take it up, the oldest getting first choice. Mayli was the oldest, our brother Zam the middle child, I'm the youngest. Mayli started out with the sword but decided to walk another path. Zam wasn't interested, so I inherited the family heirloom."

"What if there aren't any children?"

"There are always children somewhere. If I don't have any, I can try one of Zam's-he's got four. Or Mayli's, if she had any. Or I can adopt one and teach him or her the Way. The link is spiritual, not necessarily genetic."

Sleel nodded. "Mayli, Zam and Kildee. Interesting names."

Kee laughed. "My parents were certainly that, interesting. When I was born they were studying birds, so

'Kildee.' It's a variant of `killdeer,' which is supposed to be the cry the things make. The ones my parents were observing on the day I was born were mudbirds. The things lived on a lake shore and ate bugs.

Glamorous, right?"

Sleel chuckled. He told her the story of how he had chosen his own name.

"What was the name your parents gave you?"

He told her.

"Interesting," she said.

"Yeah. I was named after a plant found on my homeworld."

She smiled. "Well, it's no worse being named after a plant than it is a bird."

"Unless the plant only grows on animal dung."

"Really?"

"Really. A kind of sheep. Apparently the species didn't exist before the sheep started crapping in pastures."

She laughed, and he enjoyed the sound. He found that he very much liked making her laugh.

But that pit-of-the-stomach feeling was there, too, as if there was some danger in being this close to her.

Something was there, something he didn't want to think about. Back into the cave, Sleel. The beasts are outside in the dark prowling, and if you don't run and hide they will get you for sure.

The three days went quickly for Wu. She enjoyed the camping as she had before, but it was different sharing it with somebody. On the one hand, she gave up the feeling of total solitude, and the peacefulness of being alone in the wilderness. She always downpowered her com when she came here, so that nobody could break into the quiet.

On the other hand, sometimes a thing shared made it greater and not lesser. So this trip had been. Sleel was relaxing, becoming more open, and while there were times when she would have grabbed him and given in to the desire she felt, she had not allowed herself to do so. It would have stopped something happening in him, she felt, and the immediate pleasure would have perhaps stunted something greater.

She wasn't sure, and she wanted to be sure.

She watched now as Sleel stood in the river, shaking his head and slinging the water from his hair as he came from under the surface. That, she felt, was what was going on. Too much of Sleel was surface. He had depths, but he kept them hidden, from her, and, more importantly, from himself. That was her job as a teacher, to show Sleel how to get to the center of himself.

Well. Nobody had ever told her it would be easy, had they?

Abruptly, she felt a pressure, as if being watched. She scanned the river, looked into the air and woods, but saw nothing. Both she and Sleel had been aware of the sensation almost the entire time they had been here. There had to be something to it. But-what? And-who would be watching them? It made no sense. Why would anybody be interested in them?

Sleel emerged from the water and began to dry himself with one of the thin towels they had brought. Wu looked away. The next step was back in Kyrktorn. Time to go and take it.

Chapter TWENTY-THREE

"HERE IS YOUR soul," Kee said.

They sat the in kitchen of her dojo, Sleel looking at the little chunks of black metal lying on the table.

There were several different kinds, ranging from a bar about the thickness and length of his hand to smaller, rectangular pieces not much bigger than large coins. Maybe a dozen in all.

"A little fragmented, ain't it?" he said.

She said, "Well, yes, we'll do some blending. Here, look." She took a small flatscreen and began to draw on it using a light stylus. Sleel watched the simple design take shape. It took only a few moments. When she was done, she passed the flatscreen to Sleel.