A sound nearby. Collette steps out of the dark, naked, glistening with oil, bright beads in her hair. She holds her arms close against her body, her breasts jutting out. She kneels before me and I loosen the loincloth. When I quickly thrust inside her, she wraps her arms around my head and only her fingers move through the hair on the back of my neck. A series of jolting shocks pass through my groin, a stream of delight which does not seem to belong to me but takes the last breath from my lungs. I make no sound, do not move. Within me, muscles relax and contract, I don’t even feel my breathing. Then Collette falls, lies by the fire, her eyes shut, the only sign of her orgasm an internal shudder.
After a long moment Collette rises to her feet, sends her arms outstretched to the stars. The posture resonates in my mind, brings back our first hours together. And my vision, the vision of a woman suspended in space, arms spread, enigmatic—she becomes all women, Maxine, Collette, the Spanish girl, Erica; the fright from Cooper means nothing to me now. The low fire gives Collette a golden glow, her skin glistening with the sheen of the fragrant oil as the light plays over the curves of her body. “Collette,” I say, my own voice slightly strange to me, as if from a distance, yet my mind so clear and my heart so taken with her that the voice speaks with affection and conviction. “Collette. You are a goddess.”
“A goddess,” she says softly, tenderly, looking at me with a gentle smile. “Yes. And you are a god, Rawley.”
I look down, gaze at the fire, watch it for a long moment. “I do feel like a new man.”
“You are a god, Rawley,” she laughs, holding out her hands. “You’ll see.”
Two hours later, long after midnight, a huge, rolling clap of thunder comes from a great distance. I turn and see a bank of faint lightning on the horizon, the first signs of a large storm that’s come from nowhere. The air remains still, but now I notice the sign of weather in it, a weight. I tell Collette we have to go now, we’d better load the Zodiac. It seems a shame to leave.
“What an adventure this has been,” I say.
“You think it’s over?” She grins, rolling the mat, laughs. “You think this is all? Oh, Rawley.”
Chapter 9
Trip to the Sun
We lift off through the glowering tropical storm that blew in from nowhere last night, its gusts buffeting the ship as we sat on the pad. Now, thirty seconds into launch, the winds have risen to gale force and theTube yaws and lurches through layers of low clouds, their light gray-green. At the same time the ship vibrates with the low howl of sustained acceleration in trying to shake loose. The layers of weather swirl past the window/wall as the tidal forces of acceleration build—we are shaken one way, then another, so many rattles in the cabin a loop of soft music is drowned in this other kind of music. Something crashes in the kitchen/bar, then something larger. I manage to turn my head to see Collette, strapped into a liftoff rig at the couch, a worried expression on her face. Heavy weather, dangerous to launch. My surprise that we have lifted off at all has melted into aggravated resignation. Too committed now to abort, hanging on, the weather beyond the skin of the ship palpable and thick.
Then we punch through the last heavy layer of cumulus—vibrate still, but it is as if we go from water to air. A nice sensation of lightness, made manifest in the yellow-white light of the naked sun through the window/wall. I am finally pressed so far back into the recliner that I can no longer see.
The first thing I do once we reach stable flight, the heel of my hand throbbing again, is to check the program through on Cooper’s status. I am relieved to find that military has a pair of high-priority tracers cross-checking their way along Cooper’s path since splashdown, SciCom slow in responding, but the tracers moving inexorably, step by step.
RESIDUAL ITINERARY//
FIRST-CLASS PASSAGE// Prog. 2NdCoord.
DA12 VIETAHITI LAUNCH/TRIP bid I/0-0600
TO THE SUN
DA13 HOLD PREP/TOTAL HOLOGRAM, bid i/f-cont.
DA14 TRIP TO THE SUN bl- i/f-----
CONTINUOUS VIDEON PROGRAMMING
THE PLEASURE TUBE IS AN EXPERIENCE//INDIVIDUAL VARIATIONS ARE COMMON AND PRECISE DESTINATIONS VARY//
CONSULT YOUR SERVICE FOR DETAILS
2, MEDICAL CLEARANCE REQUIRED
TOTAL HOLOGRAM///TOTAL HOLOGRAM///TOTAL HOLOGRAM///
//the option that is extra and extra-ordinary///medically cleared passengers who have prereserved and preprogrammed arrangements will receive instructions DA12//passengers are encouraged to tune in to Videon 33 for continuous briefing on hologram procedures, options, and benefits//shipwide total hologram begins 0000 DA 14.
TRIP TO THE SUN//TRIP TO THE SUN//TRIP TO THE SUN//
//along with the culminating experience of the total hologram, to complete this flight thePleasureTube will fly in a deep-space orbit which will bring it within three million kilometers of the sun//this orbit course, impossible without the special facilities of theTube, is preprogrammed and self-correcting//the increasing blue-gray shade of theTube window/walls increases the reflectivity of the ship and should not be adjusted//this rare experience is a standard feature for all-class passengers//relax and enjoy the journey.
our service is pleasure//your pleasure our service
@ thePleasureTube corp.
Videon 33 displays a pleasant, young Oriental couple, identically dressed in white body stockings, seated together on a suede sofa in an elegant cabin—they’re describing the total hologram, a familiar sequence I think I’ve seen before.
“Where brain-wave anticipation is immediately translated into full spectrum sensation,” the male says soothingly, describing the hologram’s loop.
“Where, best of all, you are in control,” the woman adds.
“Sometimes,” he laughs; they laugh together.
“In the comfort of your cabin—chemical, electrical, visual, audio, tactile—all systems. Full spectrum sensation for an ecstasy beyond compare.”
“The only such system known to man is on this ship,” she reminds the camera. “A hologram that’s more than a hologram, controlled by you, automatically, unconsciously, instantaneously….”
“You are in control.”
“Or out of it,” the Oriental woman laughs, her teeth are sparkling white, her leg rising as she runs her hand from her knee down the back of her thigh, sensuous flesh electrically firm in the body stocking.
“Where brain-wave anticipation is immediately translated into full spectrum sensation,” the Oriental male is saying again on the screen.
“Not for everyone”—his twin smiles—“but…”
“But riding thePleasureTube without experiencing the total hologram is like climbing a mountain and not reaching its peak.”
“Like leaping from a precipice and never reaching the sea.”
“The option that is extra but extra-ordinary. Come with us to the sun.”
“Come with me.” The woman smiles lusciously, touching her teeth with her tongue, just touching them. “Come with me to the sun.”