Please, both of you, stop it. Leave me alone.
Get up.
Dariat tried to rise. He got up to his knees, then fell into Anastasias lap.
Youre mine now, she said gladly.
No, youre not. Youre mine. Always mine. You can never leave. I wont allow you to.
Her hands ran over his clothes, opening seals. Kisses with the sharp cold impact of hailstones fell on his face. This is what you wanted, what you always wanted, she breathed in his ear. Me.
The nauseating colour stripes blitzing his sight swirled into blackness. Her hot skin sliding up and down against him. Weight pressing against every part of him. He was doing it! He was fucking! Tears poured out of his eyes.
Thats right, baby. Up inside me. Purge him. Purge him with me. Fly, fly into Venus and Chi-ri. Leave him behind. Free yourself.
Always mine.
Dariat woke feeling awful. He was lying on the stiff tousled grass of the tepee without a stitch of clothing. The entrance flap was open, a slice of bright morning light sliding through. A heavy dew mottled his legs. Something had died and decomposed in his mouth, his tongue by the feel of it. Anastasia Rigel was lying beside him. Naked and beautiful. Arms tucked up against her chest.
Last night. I fucked her. I did it!
He tried to smother an ecstatic laugh.
Feeling better?
Dariat screamed. It was inside his head. Anstid. The realm demigod.
He jerked around, hugging himself, biting his lower lip so hard he drew blood.
Dont be an idiot. Im not a bloody spirit bogeyman. Theres no such thing. Religion is a psychological crutch for mental inadequates. Spiritualism is for mental paraplegics. Think what that makes your girlie friend.
What are you?
Anastasia Rigel woke up, blinking against the light. She ran her hand through her wild hair and sat up, looking at him with a curious expression.
Im your ancestor.
A lost spirit from the emptiness? he asked, wide eyed with fright.
Give me one more word of mythology and I really will have your legs broken. Now think logically. Im your ancestor. Who can I be?
Information from his didactic history courses tumbled into his thoughts. Rubra? The idea didnt make him feel any better at all.
Well done. Now stop panicking, and stop shivering. I dont normally talk direct to someone your age, I like to let you have sixteen years to yourself. But Im not going to allow you to become a dopehead. Do not ever smoke that stuff again. Understand?
Yes, sir.
Stop vocalizing. Concentrate your thoughts.
What are you saying, baby? Anastasia Rigel asked. Are you still tripping?
No. Its Rubra, hes ... Were talking.
She pulled the white poncho round herself, giving him an alarmed look.
Ive got plans for you, boy,rubra said. Big plans. Youre destined for Magellanic Itgs executive committee.
I am?
Yes. If you play your cards right. If you do as youre told.
I will.
Good. Now Ive been lenient letting you sow your oats with dinky little Anastasia. I can understand that, shes got a nice body, good tits, pretty face. I had a sex drive myself, once. But youve had your fun now; so put your clothes on and say goodbye. Well find someone a bit more suitable.
I cant leave her. Not after ... last night.
Take a real good look at yourself, boy. Rutting with a bubblehead primitive on a filthy mat in a tepee. Some friend, she filled your brain with two kinds of shit. Thats not how Valisks future ruler is going to behave. Is it?
No, sir.
Good boy.
He started to pick up his clothes.
Where are you going? she asked.
Home.
He told you to.
I ... What is there here?
She gave him a forlorn look over the white poncho which was still clasped to her body. Me. Your friend. Your lover.
He shook his head.
Im human. Thats more than he is.
Come on. Leave.
Dariat pulled on his shoes. He paused by the entrance flap.
Its Anstid, she said in a mournful tone. Thats who you really talk to.
Pseudobabble. Ignore her.
Dariat walked slowly out of the village. Some of the elders gave him strange looks as he passed their steaming cooking pits. They couldnt understand. Why would anyone leave Anastasias bed?
Thats their trouble, boy. Theyre too backward. The real world is beyond them. I really must get round to cleaning them out one day.
Now Dariat knew what he was, what he was destined for, the didactic courses took on a whole new level of importance. He listened to Rubras advice on the specializations he needed, the grades he had to achieve. He became obedient, and a shade resentful at his own compliance. But what else was there? Starbridge?
In return for acquiescence Rubra taught him how to use the affinity bond with the habitat. How to access the sensitive cells to see what was going on, how he could call on vast amounts of processing power, the tremendous amount of stored data that was available.
One of the first things Rubra did was to guide him through a list of possible replacement girls, eager to bury the lingering traces of yearning for Anastasia Rigel. Dariat felt like a voyeuristic ghost, watching the prospective candidates through the sensitive cells; seeing them at home, talking to their friends. Some of them he watched having sex with their boyfriends, two with other girls, which was exciting. Rubra didnt seem to object to these prolonged observations. At least it meant he didnt have to pay for bluesense fleks any more.
One girl he chanced on was nice, Chilone, nine months older than him. As black as Anastasia (which was what first caught his attention), but with dark auburn hair. Shy and pretty, who talked a lot about sex and boys with her girl friends.
Still he hesitated from meeting her, even though he knew her daily routine, knew her interests, what to say, which day clubs she belonged to. He could contrive a dozen encounters.
Get on with it,rubra told him after a week of cautious scrutiny. Screw her brains out. You dont think Anastasias still pining over you, do you?
What?
Try using the sensitive cells around the tepee.
That was something hed never done, not using the habitats perception faculty to spy on her. But the tone Rubra used had a hint of cruel amusement in it.
Anastasia had a lover, Mersin Columba, another Starbridge. A man in his forties; overweight, balding, with white pallid skin. They looked horrible locked together. Anastasia flinched silently as she lay underneath his pumping body.
The old white-hot infantile fury rose into Dariats mind. He wanted to save her from the repellent humiliation; his beautiful girl who had loved him.
Take my advice. Go find young Chilone.
Like juvenile Edenists, it hadnt taken Dariat long to discover how to fox the habitats sensitive cells. Unless Rubras principal personality pattern was concentrating on him in particular, the autonomous monitoring of the subroutines could be circumvented.
Dariat used the sensitive cells to follow Mersin Columba out of the tepee. The podgy oaf had a smug smile on his face as he made his way down to the stream. Anastasia Rigel was curled up on her rug, staring at nothing.
Mersin Columba made his way down the valley before stripping off his shirt and trousers. He splashed into a wide pool, and began to wash off the smell and stains of sex.