— It looks like those rules Charlie was talking about have come to pass. — Natalie said quietly to Sierra and moved toward the exit.
***
It was that lab again, where Morgan wasn't. Natalie looked at everything she'd seen an hour ago and still thought there was only one person missing. Him. The one who had so caressed and stroked her everywhere she could dream. She could still imagine him running his hands over her and she just sighed with happiness, as if steam was being released from her at every touch. The same vapor that was already stagnant in her lungs, her heart, and many other places. And yesterday it had been released so magnificently by him, Morgan.
Who wasn't there right now… Natalie was starting to get nervous. Especially after the picture she had just seen in the dining room… Hitting a man in the head, in the face. So cruel and cynical… It was beginning to seem to her that it was not only those who were watching who were enjoying it, but also those who were doing it… And she lived at the same station with these people. At the same station, which is for all of them their common single home….
Natalie sat down to draw up the blueprints and decided that, while he was away, she could at least make the time worthwhile by speeding it up. It would be much easier to wait The design
was both simple and complex. Except that it was necessary to properly deal with nuclear waste — there was nothing complicated in taking it away, it was more important to separate it in time. That way, the design is more reliable and safer for those who use it.
I was thinking, of course, very badly. Thoughts of suicide, of Morgan's disappearance, of Sierra's warnings, all came into my head. After all, if Charlie had said something to her, it wasn't for nothing. The changes would have to be drastic, and the incident with Taylor in the dining room only confirmed it As she thought about it, Natalie began to draw whatever came to mind: the flash
drive, couples hugging, windows in the dining room looking up at the sky What if those people
who killed themselves had also gotten to that point, just as she had?
They were sitting alone in the room, doing something with the drawings, and then they began to do these horrors to themselves, and with such persistence and care… First they checked the drawings, and then they began to check the cuts on themselves… Also focusing their attention only on the accuracy of execution, and not on the reasonableness of the actions themselves… These thoughts somewhat disturbed Natalie and, pulling her hand with a pencil from the sheet of paper, she, already afraid, stared at it….
Halfway down the sheet of paper was a picture of an aroused man's big cock. Natalie
grinned. Yes, it had been a wonderful night. And, most importantly, how quickly everything heals, it turns out So many thoughts of all kinds. Will it work, will it not. What else could it be? And who
needs what. And what to do if something went wrong. Can we fix it? And whether it is possible to add if there is not enough All useless questions, when you finally find someone who does not
bother with these questions, but just does. How wonderful the answer can be. One single right answer, applied where it should be. And that answer was Morgan, who was impossible to wait for.
Nathalie sprang from her seat, not even removing her sketches from the table, and headed for the exit of the lab-Morgan had to be somewhere, and there was no reason to delay in finding him.
Elder
It was hard to breathe. Peyton couldn't remember the last time it had been so hard to inhale
air into himself, and then to force that air through his lungs. It seemed to him that each time was given so hard that he wouldn't even have the strength to spew that air back out. But each time they were found, and the only thing that grew in him constantly was doubt and anxiety about it.
No, there had been one time when breathing had been just as hard. Peyton remembered that moment. He'd fucked Delaney from behind once when she was on her knees with her ass against him. He had so enjoyed that view from behind and on top of her. Her hair was a little disheveled down her back and her narrow waist transitioned sharply into the roundness of her hips and ass. It was very arousing, and especially arousing how she screamed then at almost every thrust he made into her. Then he felt like he was going to explode and empty everything in him right into her… But it wasn't happening. He moved more and more, harder and harder, and he felt his arousal more and more. It got bigger and bigger each time, and he realized he couldn't go on. His breath was coming in and out of him, as if someone had thrown a noose around his neck and was beginning to squeeze. And at the same time, it was starting to sting at the back of his shoulder blade. It was getting so heavy that he stopped.
Then he stopped and didn't cum. Just pulled his cock out of her and plopped down next to her on the bed in active breathlessness. Delaney started to ask if he was okay, if he wanted something different after he took a breath. But he only wanted one thing at that point: to catch his breath. To catch his breath and come to his senses, remembering how beautiful and sexy she looked in that position.
And at that moment he began to feel sorry for himself. Now he remembered it very well. Because now he was feeling sorry for himself too. Himself and his helplessness in front of it. How come he couldn't. That he'd gotten everything he wanted, but he hadn't been able to cum when he wanted to… Old age… He didn't want to think about that word. There is no old age when you have such a young and beautiful girl next to you, who wants you, caresses you and loves you. Who comes several times, screams in pleasure and comes again and again. There can't be any old age when it's repeated day after day…It can't be…But it was. Still, it was real. And then he couldn't because he was suffocating, and now he was lying in a hospital bed because he was suffocating again. If not worse.
That's what Delaney got for yesterday. For not being able to come. Couldn't get his seed in her any way. So he had to do it himself. He had to do what she used to do. So he did it in a way she couldn't want him to. But how he should have wanted it… Violence. Because only violence could make him stronger in those moments when he was short of breath. When there wasn't enough of his body working properly to bring him to orgasm. That's when violence came to his aid, violence that works in a very different way than women do.
And now Peyton understood that better than the fact that he was lying in a hospital bed after a heart attack… Ah, yes, yes. A heart attack. It's no longer a sign, it's a consequence of old age. Even though it's "micro" as the doctor said… But it's "micro" when you can't even lie still. And if you start moving, there's no such thing as micro. It's a total asshole. That's what he called it. Total asshole.
He often had to quip about expressions, and this one just reminded him that the whole world had turned on its ass. And "full" means that it applies to all areas of life. All areas of his life… What kind of elder was he if he couldn't even get out of bed without help, not to mention the fact that it was he, Peyton Cross, the same elder who had been the toughest, most combative elder of
them all. He was the one who could explain anything. He was the one who could quip and threaten and glower at his opponents, and they had to back down. In front of him. In front of Elder Peyton Cross, the fiercest of all elders….
Most furious and unable to get out of bed. A complete ass is what it is. There's no other word for it. He's gonna get eaten. His own Elder friends would eat him just for not being able to answer. Oh, how well he knew them. Jackals, cowardly jackals, who always retreated before his wit and his masterful speeches. And no one would help him. They wouldn't even let him wake up. Not even to take a breath in the new realities — not to give him time to recover… And he will sit quietly and silently somewhere on the outskirts of the station, in his new one-room apartment, at best, and write his memoirs… Yes, now is the time for memoirs. Then it will be possible to leave them behind him… But that is if he is given at least one room of his own…..