Emerging from behind the leaf, Tiffany sat down on a patch of moss amid scattered EVA packs and spare ammo boxes. She stared longingly at the pools. Was it safe to relax? Miko laughed at her indecision. Setting down her gun collection, Miko stripped off her v-suit and cut-down kimono. Selecting a wide pool shaded by a colossal dripping leaf, she placed her machine pistol within easy reach, then slid eagerly into the water.
Tiffany envied Miko’s ease with her body, never shy or embarrassed. Nothing to hide. Diplomatic training made Tiffany too worried about appearances, about the image she presented. Half the time she still felt like a holo. She watched Miko roll lazily onto her back, calling out happily, “Come on in, blondie. Water’s wonderful.”
Her sweat-soaked gi felt heavy and confining, while Miko’s free and easy nudity cast a compelling spell. Smooth curving limbs, small cupped breasts, swelling hips, and the dark cleft between her buttocks, all looked clean and graceful buoyed by the clear water. Tiffany always secretly enjoyed women’s bodies, telling herself she was responding not to sex, but to aesthetics.
Standing up, she untied her gi, discarding the jacket, then kicking off the pants. Tiffany could no longer count the times in the last few hours when she had thought herself dead. But here she was alive and whole—and they had made it to Floreal. The odds against that had been merely astronomical. She had every right to live a bit.
The pool’s cool caress felt wonderful. Water slid over every centimeter of her skin washing away sweat and worry. Miko paddled over to be beside her. Tiffany reached out and took her hand, saying solemnly, “You saved my life.”
Miko looked surprised. “When?”
“When I was suffocating in that suit. It was ghastly. I was sure I was dead, but I woke up tethered to you.”
She laughed. “Girl, that was nothing. Standard survival procedure. You are the one who got us here.”
Tiffany shook her head. “I’m going to make it up to you,” she promised.
“Really?” Miko raised an eyebrow. Reaching out, she took Tiffany’s other hand. Their fingers interlaced. They half-floated, half-sat, hands locked.
Tiffany no longer needed her sensors to feel the pulse pounding in Miko’s palms. “I have a secret to tell. Something I could not say until now.”
Miko’s dark eyes danced. “I’ve a secret to tell too.”
“What’s that?” She meant for Miko to have the first say.
“This is how you can make it up to me.” Miko leaned forward and kissed her. Not a polite peck on the lips, but a long hungry kiss. Some secret. Having guessed what was coming, Tiffany opened her mouth to take it. The kiss felt fresh and exciting. All the tension of the trip flowed out of her. She had earned the right to get whatever she wanted out of her new life. Even if what she wanted was Miko.
Their lips parted. Tiffany told her, “Time for my secret. Floreal is a ship. A starship.”
Miko’s eyes widened. She looked about her, at the pool, the patches of elephant grass, the great green stalks soaring upward, supporting jewel-like flowers. “Oh, no. That’s impossible!”
“It’s in the specs off the Sacajawea. Floreal was a colony ship, the Arcadia, sent to settle the Orion Cluster ages ago.”
“Can it take us outsystem?”
“I sure hope so.” Otherwise this whole trip would be a colossal waste.
“You’re amazing.” Miko kissed her again, even harder. When their tongues untwisted, she demanded, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I’m sorry.” Tiffany felt terrible about that. “But I had to see what sort of shape this place was in. And I could not risk the secret getting out. Imagine what would happen if the Jutes and Choctaws found out. Or Hesse and his happy slavers.”
Miko stared at her, eyes aglow. “You are amazing. You risked your life coming here. And now you’ve saved me, and maybe half the system as well!”
“Not yet,” Tiffany reminded her. “We can’t be sure.”
“I’m sure.” Miko slid closer, kissing her even more fiercely. “Look what you’ve done already—unbelievable!” Tiffany had thought that by holding Miko’s hands she might keep things under control. But Miko proved to be more adept than she imagined. Clamping her legs around Tiffany’s thigh, she drew their bodies together. “Aesthetics” was getting out of hand.
Tiffany looked at her sternly. “I hope you are not falling in love again.” Sensors told her it was already too late.
Miko laughed. “Try and stop me.” Her knee slid expertly between Tiffany’s legs, and a calf curled around to rub her buttock underwater. Tiffany relaxed, letting Miko slide in closer, clamping her between calf and thigh. Miko started to rock. Which Tiffany found pretty exciting. Thrilling actually.
The thrill did not last. Tilting back, Tiffany froze.
“What’s the matter?” Miko whispered. “Am I going too fast?”
“That’s for sure,” Tiffany whispered. “And there is a man watching.”
Miko stopped rocking. Pulse racing, she let go of Tiffany’s left hand, reaching up onto the bank. Her fingers closing around the butt of the recoilless pistol.
Tiffany kept her gaze fixed on the man. He was a dozen meters above the pool, in the crotch of a flowering tree, sitting on the back of a big feathered creature. Either a roc or hippogriff. It was hard to tell through the leaves and blossoms. The man himself was tan and handsome, with blond hair and broad shoulders. Seemingly nude, he had one of those firm, anatomically correct bodies that let you count every rippling muscle. He gripped a light slender lance, and a hand-forged long sword hung at his hip.
Miko rolled slowly off of Tiffany, turning the pistol toward him.
Smiling, he gave a jaunty wave. Seeming not to know or care what a pistol was, he called down in passable Universal, “Please, my ladies, don’t mind me. I can wait until you are done.”
“That’s all right,” Tiffany called back. Sitting up, she reached over to make sure Miko did not shoot. “We were just finishing here.”
“Good. I would hate to disturb something so important.” Voice modulation told Tiffany that he would have been perfectly happy to wait and watch. Lifting a leg, he swung easily off his half-hidden mount, then slid down the tree, landing on his feet. Through the leaves, he had looked like he had nothing on but the baldric supporting his sword. Closer up, Tiffany could see he wore tooled leather boots, a bright woven belt, and a magnificently stuffed codpiece.
Setting down his lance, he bowed, right hand obediently tugging his forelock. “Ja-lan of Apex, at your ladyship’s service.” Sensors said that was true.
Miko hissed in sotto voice, “Tell Sir Jolly of Pecs we do not need to be serviced.”
Tiffany shushed her, diplomatic training taking over. “We could use help in finding our way. And some food as well.” Their v-suits only held emergency rations, vitamin-glucose pills, and full meal tabs.
He straightened up. “But of course.” Producing a bone whistle from his belt, he blew two sharp notes. Leaves rustled and a hulking troop of Super-Chimps stepped into the clearing around the pond. Silently they began picking up EVA packs, grenades, clothes, discarded v-suits and ammo boxes.
“That’s our stuff,” Miko protested. “Cut it out.”
Tiffany shushed her again, seeing no percentage in putting up a fight. None of the chimps were armed, but there were at least a dozen of them, all big males, massing 200 kilos apiece. Pan troglodytes supreme was a chimp-human cross, bioengineered back in the early post-atomic. Grunts and pant hoots did not make them stupid. Their DNA differed from her’s by a trifling 2 percent, and they could be dangerous when needed.