Yes, she thought, this is much better than hysterics or depression. Never, though, had she experienced such abrupt intensity before, not even in post syndrome. Could this be part of being junct? She chased the thought and drowned herself enthusiastically in pure sensation.
His response was a tender melting accompanied by a surprising groan that was almost a sob of joy. As if he'd been rigidly holding himself back, maleness throbbed against her in long, even pulses. Breathless, he broke the kiss and whispered in her ear. "I saw a couch in Jarmi's office. It would hold two."
She hesitated. What if he can't? Considering that he hadn't had the demanding transfer with Azevedo that he'd been ready for, it was absurd to expect this to work. But if she stopped now, she'd plunge back into the depths of despair, or be seized by a three-hour crying fit. What's the difference, crying now or later? And it might—just might—work.
For answer, she locked her hands behind his neck and climbed up his body. He carried her that way, to the couch.
He took a very long time, leaving not a particle of her skin unstimulated. Afraid he couldn't end it, Laneff barriered herself from the sensations at first, but he was irresistible. He played with her consciousness, coaxing her hyperconscious as if she were in need, and feeding his sensuality into her nerves, pulling back to prolong the suspense and teasing her down to duoconsciousness where he tantalized her with symphonies of mixed sensations, and then plunging her into hypoconsciousness so that she lived in a skin flushed with expectation.
She forgot her fear of not finishing, forgot about the kill and her project, and rode with him up and down the levels of consciousness, unwilling to judge which level was better. The pace increased as he finally entered her; with every stroke he had her rippling through the levels of consciousness and finding the power of life in each.
She was astonished when he brought them both into intense climax, a crackling vortex of discharged tension, as well timed as any Sime could manage. Returning to her own world, Laneff thought, When he's post, he's not so slow and thorough.
He kissed away her tears of joy, catching his breath. "I've never been so happy, Laneff. It was as if I'd never had a woman before." "You've never treated me like that before!" He gazed down at her with a mischievous smile. "A Sime who's living on channel's transfer is a kind of virgin to be treated circumspectly."
CHAPTER 8
MUTUAL ANNIHILATION
Laneff woke beside Shanlun, drifting in the rose-gold haze of dream. Reliving a familiar dream that unrolled itself inexorably before her mind's eye while she was caught in the supreme lethargy between waking and sleeping, she became once again a child enjoying the last days of childhood.
The golden warmth of spring wrapped around the two-story house surrounded by the bright emerald lawn and carefully planted saplings. The houses in the out-Territory neighborhood seemed cramped close together with only narrow strips of lawn and symbolic fences between them. Up the street, a machine was laying surface on a driveway. Across the way, a family was moving in.
Laneff got out of the car in front of the large house labeled with the number ten. After politely thanking the driver who'd brought her here, she exerted all her strength to slam the car door. It didn't latch. The Sime driver reached across and pulled it shut.
At ten years of age, Laneff was as tall as some adults, but her spindly arms lacked strength. When I'm Gen, she thought, my muscles will grow.
Holding that thought to her like a warm blanket, she faced the strange house alone, uncertain and shy. The car drove away. She couldn't make her feet move up the walk. She'd never been out-Territory before.
The cold, black, lonely moment broke when the screen door burst open and Fay ran down the path toward Laneff, her beribboned pigtails flying, her bright black shoes making clicks on the pavement. Joyfully, Laneff dropped her overnight case and ran to meet her friend who was squealing happily, "You came! You came!"
They danced around each other on the lawn, and then Fay dragged Laneff inside. The house held odd, heavy cooking odors, and the furnishings exuded a background of smells that added up to different. In a whirlwind tour, Fay displayed the family possessions with pride and explained things with adult-sounding confidentiality. "Now, this is where you'll get to sleep—right in my room. I made up the spare bed myself."
Closing the door, she began hauling out special treasures, chat– tering madly. Laneff remembered how she'd behaved the same way when Fay had come to visit her. They had met at a summer camp in-Territory, and become fast friends when they discovered they were both set on becoming Donors. Laneff had pleaded and begged until she was allowed to have Fay come stay with her at the Sat'htine children's dwelling where she lived. But she'd won only because she'd insisted on it for the Union Day holiday. Quite unexpectedly, then, Fay's parents had insisted that Laneff come to their house for Faith Day. The Sat'htine foster parents in charge of the residence had consulted Laneff’s parents, and after much deliberation—during which Laneff piped up with urgent suggestions, begging and pleading and even crying until she was sent from the room, insisting she'd run away if they didn't let her go—the adults had permitted her to come, but only for two nights and one day in between.
That afternoon, Fay and Laneff played Sime Center with Fay's collection of Sime and Gen dolls; she even had a channel doll that lit up to show both the primary and secondary systems in the channel. When she was in transfer mode, the doll's channeling system was brighter. Otherwise, the regular system was brighter.
It had been the happiest afternoon Laneff could remember, but it was followed by the most difficult dinner ever. She was very careful to say "Mr. Ravitch" and "Mrs. Ravitch," but her command of English beyond that evaporated. The food was strange, and though they only gave her vegetables, she knew the gray stuff they were eating was meat. It stank. Her stomach revolted, and she just picked at her food.
But that night made up for the ordeal. She and Fay lay awake until nearly dawn just talking. In the small hours, the topic naturally came to changeover. "Since I'm a Farris," said Laneff, "and known not to be a channel, it's practically certain that I'll be a Gen, and a whopping good Donor, too."
"I'm gonna have to work to get that good," responded Fay wistfully. "But I have a cousin who's a four-plus Donor, and he says I have the personality for it."
Laneff woke to Fay's mother calling them to breakfast. She ached from overexcitement and lack of sleep and was wholly uninterested in food, but it was Faith Day today. Mr. Ravitch was already outside cutting the grass, and she and Fay were alone at breakfast, so Laneff got away with eating only a banana and some milk. "I'm saving my appetite for the party."
Soon, all Fay's aunts, uncles, cousins and their assorted in-laws began arriving. A swarm of children, tots to teens, thronged the backyard, playing tag games Laneff didn't know. But she ran with them anyway and pretended to belong. After a while, one of them took her aside and explained the rules, and she began to play in earnest. She even won a few times, and by the time Mr. Ravitch had a smoky fire going in the stone pit near the patio, she felt a warm friendliness among Fay's relatives.
The spring sun was hot, the air still, and the sky almost Zeor blue. Some trees were in bloom, yellow daffodils around their bases. Women were spreading the table, ferrying pitchers of cold drinks and cookies to the children. Laneff drank and ate a couple of the big cookies, but they seemed to settle into a lump in her stomach.