"I was," he agreed. "I do have a certain interest."
"As do I," she said. "As the Glamor of Bacteria. I'm sure there are some mixed in."
Having made their excuses, they stepped in among the plants, inspecting them closely. They were indeed fascinating in their variety and details.
There was a heated pool nestled among the gardens. "Tourists are invited to swim," Ostrich said. "The water is reputed to have invigorating qualities."
"But we lack swimming suits," Weft protested.
"This is an advantage of being among alien creatures," Ostrich said. "Others do not know your spot conventions, and are not curious about your anatomical details or your physical interactions."
"Good enough," she said, and stepped out of her clothing. Soon she and Havoc and Iolo and Ostrich were all in the water, along with most of the other tourists.
And of course the water was more than invigorating. It was sexually stimulating. They were drawn together to have another session, as were the others. Now Havoc was sure the machines were having some fun with them.
But Ostrich was right: who cared? He drew Weft in and penetrated her standing in neck deep warm water, surrounded by alien couples doing the same. Her body was evocative regardless, and the magic of the water enhanced the effect.
"Oh, dad, it's so great," she murmured, pressing her belly and breasts against him.
The ironic thing was that it was great. Her body and joy in the union enhanced the experience. He was sure now that he could never have risked doing it with the real Weft, because even the copy was supremely compelling. She was the perfect woman. Just not for him, in reality.
In due course the tour stopped at a restaurant. This was an open air establishment with an enormous array of foods laid out for self service, so that each tourist could select something compatible regardless of taste. He and Weft had an Earth-style potato salad and steak, with green wine, and all tasted authentic despite being crafted from kegs of amorphous protein. Iolo Ifrit had a dish of exotic leftovers and wine-flavored water. Other tourists were having things that looked like baked swamp bubbles, squashed reptile intestines, spoiled bat blood, and boiling ice cream.
They had changed clothing for the meal, and now Havoc was in a bright blue suit and Weft wore a matching tiara and gown with a very low décolletage. Her sculptured breasts were on perfect display as she leaned forward to gaze into his eyes. She wasn't even trying to seduce him at the moment, just being her natural seductive self, but he got a fierce erection. She smiled, knowing it. Her hand reached under the table to give his crotch a brief promising squeeze. It was clear that her appetite for his sexual attention had not yet abated.
It was time to change the subject. "You know that free access to this resort and similar ones will be perpetually available to you when Voila enlists," Havoc said earnestly, in his role as Ikon Robot.
"How do we know the machines will keep their word?" she demanded as she took another mouthful of salad.
"Assurance," he said. "Voila will have power, not because the machines will grant it, but because she will assume command of their future seeing. If the machines renege, she will know it before they do, and will prevent it. It will be a continuing deal. She and the machines really need each other for this project."
"Project?" she said sourly. "Wiping out every other living species in the galaxy?"
"Not necessarily. Some will make similar deals."
Weft shook her head. "You really should have my sister on this tour. Maybe she would listen."
"She won't come. None of the far future paths show her here." Havoc was guessing, but it seemed likely, because none of the near or intermediate future paths showed her here, and the war would be over soon, making it irrelevant.
"We must influence her peripherally, through her father and sister."
"Not her bother?" Weft was bitterly amused.
"He was approached. His response is in my data bank: 'Fuck off, rust bucket!' We suspect that is negative."
Weft laughed enthusiastically. Even Iolo seemed to smile.
"There is humor?" Havoc asked with a straight face.
"You wouldn't understand. It's not a machine thing."
"I might if you explained it. I have an empathy circuit now."
"Some other time. Meanwhile, please cease the solicitation. It makes it too obvious that your first allegiance is to your own kind."
"My allegiance is to you," he protested. "I am desperate to save you from destruction."
"Enough, rust bucket!" she snapped. "Time to rejoin the tour." For they had finished their meal.
They rose, and walked to the exit. Weft was on his left, because that lane passed by a hidden scanner that would have discovered that Havoc was not a robot. Their joint clairvoyance and near future paths seeing made it easy to avoid such little traps without seeming to be aware of them. The scanners were simple, unable to discover the difference between living people; there was no suspicion that Weft was not really Weft. The machines were so sure of their control here that they saw no need for more than minimal verification. Maybe that was normally sufficient, but not for Glamors.
The next stop was a broad beach. The sand was shades of yellow, and the sea was deep red, but the effect was pleasant enough. They built sand castles with blue palm fronds for roofs. Iolo dug an endlessly deep hole, providing them with a small mountain of available sand. The sand packed well, and soon they had made an edifice large enough for them to crawl into. Havoc followed Weft inside, seeing her sun suit fall away so that he was treated to the sight of her flexing bare bottom almost in his face.
He moved up and kissed the crevice, running his tongue into the slit. She paused in place, pushing her cleft back at him. "Oh, dad, you really know how to treat a girl!"
Then they were into another bout of sex, as he glued his mouth to her vulva and she came around to consume his member. Her wet orgasm quivered across his face as his ejaculate coursed into her throat again. It was as though the fluid was making a circuit through both their bodies, going around and around.
Sand dropped on them as their motions brought the castle down. They were half buried in yellow, with Iolo looking querulously at them. However, they took time to complete their orgasms before rising naked out of the wreckage and running to the water to swim and rinse off. Iolo dived in with them, swimming while they stood on the packed sea floor.
Even then, they couldn't quite stop. He kissed her breasts while she fondled his penis and testicles under the water. Soon he penetrated her conventionally and jetted forcefully.
"I think this whole shoreline is drenched in hormones," she said. "Not that I'm objecting."
"That explains it," he agreed. "We'd better get back to the tour."
They waded clear of the water. The other tourists were doing the same, evidently having suffered similarly intense stimulation. They kept falling into the erotic trap, but like Weft did not object.
The next stop was an amusement park. Here they got to ride toylike vehicles through assorted scenery ranging from high mountains to deep caves. Iolo accompanied them. And of course in the darkness of the Tunnel of Love Weft was on his lap, bare-bottomed, demanding an offering. She just never stopped—exactly as the real Weft would have behaved.
Havoc did not want to admit it, but he was beginning to think there was such a thing as too much of a good thing.
I read that! she thought. Just for that I want another filling. She lifted her bottom off his member, put her hand down to catch it, guided it to her lubricated anus, and dropped firmly down. There was nowhere for it to go but in.