Cluster (18 page)

“Your motions only enhance the interaction,” Flint told Llyana, knowing this was like telling the victim of ongoing rape not to struggle.

“This—this is
mating
!” she screamed, shocked. Her message came through her body as much as her vocal apparatus, for they were now overlapping each other's nervous systems.

Flint had never before felt such extreme pleasure. In the human body, the joys and pains of various experiences were actually self-generated. No actual transfer of sensation occurred, merely external stimulus. But here there was the enveloping joy of literal mergence, of becoming one with one's species. Sissix and Llyana pooled their nervous impulses with Flint's to make a symphonic unity of amazing depth and intensity. Before, when Flint had been the inadvertent catalyst, he had been too revolted by the concept to appreciate the pleasure; now he relished it.

“And what a mating!” Sissix agreed. “No wonder you two sought a catalyst! I have never partaken of such a powerful union before. By pure chance, I am a participant in a greater experience than I ever could have initiated deliberately.”

Still Llyana protested. “I am not your kind! This is an abomination!”

There it was: her open confession of alien status. With that unguarded admission in the presence of a witness (actually so much more than a witness, for this verification occurred on the complete range of apperception, not just sight), Flint had the key. Overlapped as he was, he could read it directly from her own system and force further testimony. His defense against the charge of rape would hinge on his own identity as an envoy from Sphere Sol, and Llyana's identity as—who?

“You are...an agent of an inimical system, from far, far away, beyond Sphere Knyfh...no, in another direction,” he repeated, picking it out despite the almost overwhelming urge to complete the procreative act. “Your home Sphere is–”

“No! No!” she screamed, every nerve jangling with a current that only increased his pleasure to the bursting point. “Three different species...miscegenation!”

What a feeling humans missed, unable to draw directly from their lover's systems. To experience their mate's orgasms; in fact to mate the orgasms themselves, fashioning a pyramid of rapture impossible to any single entity.

“What an experience!” Sissix agreed, picking up part of the impulse. “I feel as though I'm careening through the vastness of an infinite ocean, seeing clusters of glowfish–”

“That is deep space,” Flint informed it. “Those glows are stars. We are aliens from distance Spheres.”

“Noooo!” Llyana reverberated. But she could not longer hide it; her own body's nervous system, so powerfully animated by her intense Kirlian aura, betrayed her. The two strong auras were the real source of the enhancement the Sibilant felt; because it was actually sharing their aura-imbued systems, it was for the moment an enhanced entity. Yes, it would definitely be able to testify as to the alien nature of its mergence companions.

Flint had experienced orgasms before. Now he knew that no mating of his with Honeybloom could approach the enchantment of one with the alien female. Because Honeybloom had a Kirlian aura of about one, or average, she was a washout as far as interaction with his own aura went. Llyana/
C
le's aura was about two hundred, matching his own. There was simply no way to beat that. Interpenetration of extremely intense auras, combined with the physical and emotional rapture of sexual mergence...

Then Llyana got smart, and Flint was able to appreciate how intelligent and disciplined she was, again because his nerves were hers. She concealed her origin and purpose by throwing herself into the mergence with full force.

And the climax was upon them. They drew together until the three were a tight, rock-hard ball, with only small portions remaining discrete, and there was appalling pressure. The urgency of completion was so great it seemed that their very substance would sunder.

And it did
. Rapture became rupture. The ferocity of the explosion was soul-shattering. Impelled by the atomic nucleus of their triple overlay, they smashed out in three directions. There was an instant of exquisite pain as a gross chunk of flesh was ripped out of his body. Then Flint was rushing through the water, incomplete yet completed.

He agreed with the Sibilant: what an experience!

Ordinarily the three participants of a union separated after climax, allowing their explosive impetus to carry them far from each other. Flint as the sire and Llyana as the parent had lost portions of their mass, and needed time to heal and regain full size. Both had already suffered from the accident that had made the hosts available, so recuperation was critical. Sissix, as catalyst, had escaped without loss, of course. If Flint chanced into another mergence as anything but a catalyst, he would lose yet another portion of himself, and that could be disastrous. So he had to be careful, and to get out of the Sibilant zone as soon as possible. He understood now that these zones were not mere prudery, but necessary to the survival of the species. Repeated uncontrolled matings could be fatal.

Nevertheless, he swam around to follow Llyana. It was a risk, but a necessary one. He had to be sure he had nullified her.

He found her, undulating along with an infant of her kind. The little creature was scarcely formed, and was technically a neuter, but recognizable by its lack of flippers or propulsion jet. Babies had to be sexless, or they would be inadvertently caught up into mergences and not survive into maturity. Like humans, they developed when they were ready.

“Well, happy motherhood,” Flint said.

She spun on him, coiling like a snake. Undulants had more supple bodies than Impacts, and could bend more readily. In the absence of a catalyst she had no further specific sex appeal, but she remained an esthetic specimen. “Schlish!” she exclaimed.

He chuckled as well as the alien vocal apparatus permitted. “You can't swear in Spican. There's no equivalence here, and the phonetics can't be literally rendered. I believe what you are trying to says is 'fush!'”

“Schlish! Fush!” she agreed vehemently.

“Please—not in front of the child,” he cautioned her. “And you'd better let me show you out of the Sibilant zone, or we may encounter another roving catalyst. I don't think you'd want to mate again so soon.”

She swelled up as if ready to explode. But his warnings did have effect. She swerved to follow him, and did not make any more intemperate remarks. Their infant swam docilely after her. Alien she might be, but her body was Spican, and the biological ties of motherhood were controlling. Just as they were among humans, even when the child was the result of rape.

“Why did you do it?” she demanded more moderately.

“To force an admission of your origin from you,” he said. “That was successful, though I admit I didn't quite pinpoint your Sphere. And I had to prevent you from trying to kill me or otherwise balk me from the performance of my mission. With a child to care for you can't go chasing after me, can you? Not to other Spheres.”

“Schl–” she started, then caught herself, glancing at the innocent infant. Flint was amazed at how readily he was able to accept this new reality; in just a few minutes by Sol time he had mated and become a father, and here was his child—by a completely alien mother. “There will be another time.”

“I hope so,” he said. “I'd really like to repeat this performance, in my own body, with you in human form. You're quite a female.”

She was silent for a moment. “And you are quite a male,” she agreed at last. “I have not before encountered an aura to match my own. I underestimated you, assuming you to be a primitive of your kind.”

“I
am
,” Flint agreed. “I'm a Stone Age man. But that doesn't mean I'm stupid.”

“That is true.” Then she hardened. “But I shall not make that error again. Twice I have failed; that suffices.”

And twice he had let her live, when perhaps he should have killed her. If only it weren't for the fascination of her aura, and his curiosity about her Sphere of origin. “Meanwhile, take good care of our baby,” he said cheerfully. “I believe it takes about six months, my time, to raise a neuter child to independence. If my interpretation of the nature of transfer is correct, you do possess the maternal instinct and will not permit your baby to suffer, because your Spican host would not have done so. You can't go home before it is old enough to be weaned, or it will die, and you can't take it with you because its Kirlian aura is native to this planet and would quickly fade in another host. I hope your own aura will last sufficiently long?”

“You know my aura is as strong as yours!” she flashed.

“Good. Then you will have a full month's clearance, and then you can go home and recuperate for a similar period, while I complete my missions at other Spheres. After that there will be no point in your seeking me out to kill me. The job will have been done. Are you sure you don't want me to send a message to your home Sphere to let them know you're busy?”

“You have nullified me!” she cried angrily.

“This is music to my auditory perception,” he said, realizing that he didn't have ears. His whole surface picked up the sound waves. “Well, I would have hated to kill so lovely a creature as you. Maybe after all this is over, we can get together again. It was a lot of fun this time.”

This time even the presence of the child did not restrain her. “Schlish!”

But now Impacts were closing in, their fringes bubbling a bit in reaction to the foul language they had just picked up. Flint knew he could not escape arrest. And he realized there was a hole in his plan: he remained an outlaw. They might refuse to listen to him.

“Now I'll make you a deal,” he said quickly. “You do not press charges against me for involuntary mergence, and I will not tell them of your alien origin.”

“Fush!” she swore. “I'll not cover for you! I can make them hold you here until your aura vanishes.”

“All right. I'll tell them all about it,” he said brightly, though he was worried. “And I'll call in the Sibilant as witness.” He turned to the nearest Impact. “I am an alien sapience in possession of this Impact body,” he announced. “Your cultural rules do not apply to me. This Undulant is–”

“I agree!” Llyana throbbed

“...is an involuntary victim of my ignorance of local custom. Please take me to the Council of Impacts for interrogation.”

“That we shall,” the Impact said a bit grimly. “Do you, the victim, prefer charges against this entity?”

“No,” she said grudgingly. “It was an accident. I am pleased with my offspring. Only give me safe conduct to my zone.”

“As you wish,” the Impact said. “These things do happen.”

And so she departed with the little one, and Flint was conducted to the ruling council of his gender. He knew from data within his host's memory that the council entities possessed the acumen to comprehend and verify his message, and the self-interest to cooperate. After all, this tri-gendered species could not have formed a stellar empire without knowledge of space and a high technology. Their achievement in doing it from a water base was phenomenal; it spoke well of their potential and drive. He would soon be back in his home sphere, mission accomplished.

He hoped the two impacts he had fushed would not come forward to testify against him. But probably they would hide that embarrassing secret, as a human man might hide the fact of a homosexual attack on him. Justice was not worth the notoriety.

He rather hated to leave Llyana behind. He doubted he would ever again encounter a Kirlian aura that intense. She did have spirit and intelligence. She was in many respects his ideal mate.

But then he thought of Honeybloom, and remembered that he could never marry a nonhuman entity. How could they stay together any length of time, with fading auras? No, he belonged with his own kind.
 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 6:

Eye of the Charioteer

 

 

*notice agent mired in sphere spica cannot remove for some time*

–we
know
! What of the target kirlian?–

*retransferred to sphere sol no subsequent transfer*

–well check the mattermission indications, idiot!–

*target kirlian mattermitted to system capella within own sphere*

–detail on system–

*renaissance culture despotic center of internal resistance to domination of earth planet some infiltration by agents of anti-coalition spheres dominated by scheming queen*

–excellent that system may take care of our problem for us!–

*POWER*

–CIVILIZATION–

 

*
 
*
 
*

 

Capella was forty five light years from Sol, in the general direction of Sphere Nath but only a sixth as far. Its closest colonized neighbor was Castor, about as far away from it as Sirius was from Sol. What was eight or ten light years between friends? Nothing like the hundred and some light years to Etamin. Some day Flint meant to stop in at his home planet, but alas, Capella was not on that route.

He arrived in his own body in the afternoon, unannounced. Sol controlled the mattermitter, so that could be arranged. The station attendant, another pale-whitish specimen in an Imperial black tunic, introduced himself as Ambassador Jones of Earth. Flint identified himself. The man looked him up in the orders of the Day and became more affable. “I've never seen a genuine Outworlder before,” he remarked. “I had understood that planet was–”

“Stone Age,” Flint finished for him. “Right. And I really
am
a jolly green giant. I chipped stone for a living, until the Imps snatched me. I'm here to–” he hesitated.

“Do not be concerned; I am cleared for such information. It's in your dossier. You are our chief transfer agent, on temporary leave to recover your aura. I gather it fades somewhat during transfer.”