Bodies of Light (2 page)

Chapter Two

The bridge was as silent as the suspension bay. However, a survey of the blinking panels and rotating 3D displays revealed that the entire ship had power. The pods had been some kind of anomaly. Relieved, Christine settled into the pilot’s chair (Sven Harlsson, gone like all the rest) and searched the cluttered controls until she found the viewport activation button. The curved shields slid open, revealing a hemisphere of blackness. For the first time, Christine gazed out into the emptiness of interstellar space.

Terror tightened her throat. She was falling into the immense void before her, drowning in the utter absence of light or form. She closed her eyes, trying to summon the scientist within her. No one had seen this before, the vast reaches of the universe outside Earth’s solar system. She was the first.

She forced herself to peer into the darkness, pressing against the transparent carbon-crystal of the viewport. As her vision adapted, she found she could see faint glowing clouds that must be galaxies and pinpricks of light that were distant stars. The universe was not totally empty, after all. She swallowed her fear and tried to speak.

“Request interstellar coordinates.” Her long-unused voice came out as a croak, but
Archimedes
understood her command.

“Three hundred and fifty nine degrees 56’ 39.5’ galactic latitude, minus two degrees 42’ 46.3’ galactic longitude,” the ship replied crisply.

“Request distance from Sirius cluster.”

“Approximately thirty-four-point-seven light years.”

“What?” That was farther away than they’d been when they started! “There must be a mistake! Recheck your calculations.”

The ship’s computer hesitated for a fraction of a second—almost as though it were offended, Christine thought. “There is no error. Current position is 34.68643 light years from Sirius, 41.321966 light years from Terra. Current speed is point-nine-one-seven-c. Heading is twenty-two degrees 13’
b
by nine degrees 2’
l
.”

Forty-one light years from Earth! Had they overshot their goal? Of course, a tiny miscalculation in their initial trajectory would be magnified into an increasingly large discrepancy the farther the ship travelled from its starting point. “How long has it been since departure?”

“Four years, sixty-two days, four hours and twenty-two minutes,” the ship intoned.
 

Only four years? “That’s not possible,” Christine objected. Given their maximum velocity, they could not have travelled anywhere near this far. Something was very wrong.

“Run full self-diagnostics,” she ordered. “Report any faults.”

The computer was silent for about ten seconds. Christine stared out of the viewport, wondering whether any of the faint, flickering points of brightness might be Sol.
 

“Self-diagnostics completed,”
Archimedes
announced. “No faults detected.”

Christine leant back in the padded chair with a weary sigh. Pain pounded in her temples. Her usually nimble mind felt stiff and rusty. She had to figure this out.

Once again, she saw Ravin’s blank, lifeless face. She had not loved him, but she had respected him, and he had given her pleasure during their pre-launch familiarisation exercises. She found that she missed him. “The crew are all dead,” she murmured to herself. “I’m the only one left, and I’m lost in space, billions of kilometres off course.”

“All suspension pod power was terminated,” the ship commented. “A collision with unidentified debris damaged the electrical distribution cables in the hull. Backup systems failed to engage.”
 

“What? How long ago did this happen?”

“Sixty-two hours and seventeen minutes ago.” Less than three days! If she had awakened a bit sooner, she might have saved them. The impact must have triggered the reactivation sequence in her own pod. Or perhaps the backup had kicked in to handle the life support for her pod alone.

“EVA is recommended to repair the breach,”
Archimedes
added. “Probability of atmospheric loss over the next twenty-four hours is point-four-six.”

Christine collapsed on to the control panel, her face buried in her hands, squeezing her eyes tight to hold back the tears. The ship wanted her to risk her life, venturing outside to patch the hole before the air escaped. But why should she bother? She was dead one way or the other.

The vastness of space weighed on her, even when she was not looking at it. The unending blackness threatened to smother her. She felt as empty and hollow as the universe stretching into infinity on every side.
 

* * * *

“Christine.” The voice rang like crystal and flowed like water, a far cry from the flat, synthetic tones of the
Archimedes
.
 
“Do not despair, lovely one.”

Christine could not help smiling at the endearment. No one had called her lovely for a very long time. She kept her eyes closed, willing the dream to continue.

“We are with you, Christine.” Deeper, richer, edged with laughter, another voice chimed in. “You are not alone.” A cool, soothing palm cupped her brow. Strong hands settled on her shoulders, drawing her upright, then slipped down to cradle her breasts. Luscious heat suffused her, focused on her suddenly-taut nipples. They were smouldering embers ready to burst into flame. Soft lips brushed her neck just below the hairline, sending shivers spiralling through her. Someone unknotted her hair and let the weight of it cascade freely down her back. She sighed as careful fingers eased out the tangles. Each gentle tug at her scalp was pure pleasure.

The caresses ceased for an instant while her chair swung away from the control panel. Then the sensations began again, delicious and irresistible—unseen hands kneading her breasts, a warm mouth nuzzling her earlobe, a teasing tickle tracing its way down her belly, firm pressure parting her thighs and the barest graze of a fingertip across her pubis. A fierce stab of delight ripped away her languid mood. She moaned, arching up towards the retreating finger. Laughter poured over her like dark honey.

“You like that, sweet?” asked the baritone. The finger returned, pressing into her nylon-covered cleft and sliding back and forth along her length.
 

Christine gasped. “Oh, yes…” Swirls of fluorescent colour danced on her closed eyelids. Familiar scents teased her nostrils, earth after a rain and new-mown grass. The finger moved faster. The soaked fabric of her coveralls slithered across her sensitised flesh. A climax gathered in her depths, heavy and full as summer thunderheads. “More,” she whispered, just as someone dragged the zip of her garment down below her waist. “More!” she yelled, as sharp teeth fastened on her bared nipple and hard digits plunged into her naked cunt.

Dozens of hands fluttered over her skin, strummed in her pussy, plucked at her swollen breasts. The ripe clouds burst. A torrent of pleasure flooded her senses. Her body dissolved. There was nothing left but pure ecstasy, vibrating through her being like celestial music.

“Open your eyes.” The higher voice, the one that shimmered like liquid starlight, spoke close to her ear. The suggestion filtered through her post-orgasmic haze.
This dream is certainly tenacious
, she thought, her limbs still tingling.
Usually I wake up after I come.

“We’re here with you now,” added the earthy voice, from the other side. “Look upon us.”

Why should she resist? It was just a dream. Her eyelids felt leaden but she forced them apart.

A stranger stood to her right. He had marble-pale skin and hair like spun silver. Smoke-coloured brows shaded his piercing violet eyes. A pert nose and full lips gave him an androgynous look, but his lithe body was undeniably male—especially the column of rigid flesh that jutted from his groin.

Arousal flickered through Christine’s body, faint echoes of her recent climax. “Who are you?” she queried, her mouth watering at the sight of his sturdy erection. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m Alyn,” the young man answered with a smile that stole Christine’s breath. His skin gleamed in the dim light of the bridge as though dusted with stars. Fat pink nipples winked at her from his smoothly muscled chest. She ached to touch them. As though he read her thoughts, he reached for her hand and drew it to his breast. “I’m here for you, Christine. To cherish and to comfort you.”

His skin was silk under her palm. She moulded the shape of his pectoral and flicked at the taut nub at its centre. His cock surged in response. A drop of clear moisture gathered at the tip. She wet her lips, suddenly hungry. “Alyn,” she repeated, rolling the name on her tongue.

“And I’m Zed,” came the deeper voice, from her left. She turned to gaze at the second man, taller and stockier than Alyn but equally beautiful. Zed had jet hair and ebony eyes. With his prominent cheekbones, broad mouth and bronzed complexion, he made Christine think of some ancient tribal warrior. A provocative grin lit his face. He seized her other hand and curled her fingers around his swollen cock. “This is for you, little one.”

Blood pulsed through his shaft. Her small hand could barely encompass his girth. She squeezed and felt him harden further. He thrust into her palm, satin-sheathed stone. Her pussy ached to feel him driving into her depths.

Alyn knelt before her and removed her sandals, then pulled her to her feet. “We’ve been waiting for you to awaken.”

Zed leant forward to push the coverall off of her shoulders. “We knew you’d need company.” In a few seconds she was naked. Zed’s cock nudged the back of her hand, playfully inviting her to renew possession.

The dream was remarkably vivid. Every nerve sparked as Alyn circled behind her, reaching around to clasp her breasts. He pressed himself against her, nestling his hardness in the valley between her buttocks while he teased her nipples and nibbled her neck. Meanwhile Zed slipped his blunt fingers into her soaked pussy. His thumb found her clit and lingered there. Bolts of electric pleasure sizzled through her.
 

“Oh, please…” she sighed, as Zed pushed another digit into her, then spread his fingers wide. She was empty and hungry, crazy with want. She needed to be filled. Zed’s cock, Alyn’s cock, she didn’t care which, but if someone didn’t fill her she thought she’d die.

“She’s ready,” murmured Alyn. Releasing her breasts, he parted her buttocks and drove into her pussy from behind. The force of his entry crushed her against Zed’s powerful frame. The bulb of the heavier man’s cock prodded her clit, waking fresh spasms of delight.

Zed gripped her hips, holding her steady while Alyn thrust deep and hard. She arched her back, grinding her ass against Alyn’s pubis and urging him on. She was full now, deliciously so, but she wanted more. Zed’s cock slid back and forth at her entrance, bumping on every stroke against the other man’s organ embedded in her sex. The thought of them touching, skin on skin, pushed her higher still, closer to the edge.

All at once Zed dug his nails into her flesh. His pelvis jerked, hard enough to knock her off her feet. With a massive thrust, he buried his organ in her well-lubricated cavity, next to Alyn’s shaft.

Christine screamed, stretched to the limit, certain she’d be torn apart. Then a thunderous wave of pleasure crashed down upon her, sweeping away the brief pain. The two men held her close, stilling their movements while she became accustomed to the double invasion.

She gasped for breath. The fullness was exquisite. Her cunt clenched around the two cocks. They swelled inside her, taking her over.
They’ll come together
, she thought
, inside me, mingling their seed.
The notion drove her wild.

Sensing her rising arousal, Alyn and Zed resumed their thrusts. Perfectly synchronised, they drew back then plunged together into her depths. Zed’s steely shaft grazed her clit on each stroke. Alyn’s balls slapped the backs of her thighs. Christine surrendered completely to their shared power. She floated on a cloud of delirious sensation, pleasure more acute than she’d ever known.

All at once, she realised that they actually
were
floating. The three of them writhed and squirmed a metre above the floor.
Free fall
, she thought, feeling giddy and strange. Without her sandals to anchor her, the force of Zed’s entry had propelled them all into the air.
Even in my dreams, I can’t get away from physics.

Alyn clutched her shoulders, crying out in some foreign tongue. His cock shuddered and convulsed as he emptied himself into her depths. Zed followed an instant later, grinding his pelvis against her clit as he came. The friction served as the final spark to kindle her own climax. Thought whirled away. There was only pleasure, deep and satisfying, welling up from some place at the heart of her and spilling over.

Chapter Three

Christine awakened in her bunk. She didn’t remember how she’d got there, but oh, she remembered her dream! She had never experienced anything like it.
Maybe there’s something about suspension that stimulates the libido,
she thought.
Or maybe I’m already starting to become psychotic from the loneliness.

 
Her pussy felt sore and her thighs were sticky. She concluded that she must have been masturbating in her sleep. Her headache, however, was gone, and her mind felt sharper than it had since she’d come out of stasis. Plus she was hungry—ravenous, in fact.

She spent nearly ten minutes in the ultrasonic shower, trying to cleanse herself of the residue from her dream. The folds of her sex were tender and sensitive. The lightest touch made her squirm.

After dressing in loose pants, a T-shirt and her magnetic shoes, she made her way to the dining hall. Twenty empty chairs were ranged neatly around the elliptical table. The last time she’d been here, they’d been full, as the crew ate its last meal together before entering suspension. A vicious pang of sorrow knifed her chest.

She pushed her dark thoughts into the background, concentrating on the process of rehydrating and heating a freeze-dried food pack.