Dominant Species Volume Two -- Edge Effects (Dominant Species Series) (36 page)

“A
million?
I can’t store a
million sections!”

“That’s
what he said. Says they’re using those new jumbo transports to ship them. And
he said it wasn’t the cheap ones like this one either, but the big fancy ones
from Airstream—the big stackable ones.”

“Like the
rich live in. Those kind?”

“That’s
what he said. And that’s not all.”

“What?”

“They’re
sending a half-million meters of dock and dozens of loaders and stackers, you
name it. He says there’s over three thousand complete units like this one we’re
in right now coming too, all for the crews—and all Riggers and Assemblers.
Ain’t that a line of shit.”

She sat
up and drew in her legs. “I think it must be true,” she said.

He looked
at her like she was crazy. “Aw, bullshit.”

“I’m
serious. I’ve got hundreds of tons of connectors and assembly tools on my dock
and little else, except our meager provisions. If you were gonna build a city
here, that’s what you’d start with—the tools, then the stuff and then the
tradesmen to put it all together.”

“Aw,
crap,” he said disdainfully. “What’d you know about it? It could be any damned
thing.”

Joan
snorted right back. “Well, think about it. I’ve got three hundred containers
coming down tomorrow filled with nothing but screws and clamps and power tools
and belts and hard hats and shit. You can’t tell me they were ordered by
mistake and who the hell do you think’s gonna use that stuff—you and
Lavachek—or a few Riggers and security people? I’m right. You just won’t admit
it.”

Bill
thought about it. “Maybe,” he said reluctantly.

“And I
know where they’re going to build the goddamned complex, too,” she said.

“Oh,
yeah, where’s ‘at?”

“Right in
that strip you’ve been flattening for the last two periods.”

Bill
sucked air. He’d learned to trust Joan’s judgment over the years, and she was right
about the not admitting it part. “There’s more,” he said a little sheepishly.

“More
what?”

“The guy
said there were twelve more orders just like that one stacked up behind it. One
every thirty Earth days for the next year.”

Of course . . .”
What else?” she asked.

“Ninety-five
million tons of food and provisions for a hundred years, and furniture,
clothes, supplies of every goddamned kind, all the equipment you can imagine.
It’s just getting started he says. Lavachek said he told the asshole to shut up
at that point, ‘cuz he was sounding pretty stupid.”

He ended
with a shallow chuckle; one he didn’t mean.

Joan
swallowed.

Collapse.

22

His brain formed
words—lascivious, brazen words deep down in the primal part. They rose up like
living things struggling for air, but all that came were steaming gasps that
merged with hers in a sweet cacophony of ragged breathing. He brought his
mouth closer to hers, and when they kissed for the thousandth time, her soft
lips were lightly cool as if some delicate wind had brushed them. That single
cool kiss mixed with
the hot,
wet touch of sweat-slickened skin against skin and the words lost their shape
completely.

He
breathed the wordless sounds into her mouth and sucked up hers in return with
greedy relish. He felt her body flex and clutch at him with each thrust, the
muscles in her arms and thighs kneading him like strong and supple hands,
milking him with a pounding rhythm. She smiled up at him with a lovely and
feral grin and reached out to him with a tongue thick and wet.

He buried
his hands in her thick hair and felt it wind tight around his fingers like
something alive. The feel of that tough animal hair and her strong legs around
his back and the touch of her smooth skin there and along his flanks made him
drive harder and harder until her scent and sound and touch became one fused
and carnal sensation.

She
opened her eyes deliberately into his, and he lost himself in them as if he’d
fallen into a deep pool. Using her hair as a bridle, he held her head firmly
still and let her eyes caress him, kiss him as he strained against her.

She began
to groan deep down as if she was turning inside out and her face tightened and
her full mouth dropped open into a wide, wicked leer. She clutched tighter with
her entire body until she made them one thing, working and twisting, writhing
with delight. He worked one hand down and felt the smooth and supple trough of
her lower back and longed to lick and kiss it, to run his tongue down that
deep, muscular groove.

She
tilted her head far back and groaned deeper, and he saw the muscles and tendons
under the flushed skin of her neck, pronounced and pulsing. Her mouth opened
wider exposing strong teeth and pink tissue. The mindless pleasure in her face
mirrored his own and he saw her as a throbbing, erotic thing writhing and
sucking at his veined cock. He bit into her neck and felt sinew under his
teeth. A single thrust later he came deep inside her in strong, full spurts
that left him twitching and spent.

They lay
in the wet sheets for what seemed like hours and when they awoke much later,
day had turned to dusk. The room was so calm, and the light so soft that it
felt to her as if time itself had stopped within its untroubled walls.

She ran
her hand over his moist shoulder, thick and muscular; the color of light
earth.

“What
time is it?” Rachel asked in a low voice.

He smiled
at the sound; low and guttural, dreamy, and longed to hear it again.

“What . .
. ?” John asked.

“What
time is it?” she repeated.

It
sounded exactly the same the second time, but sweeter as if a recording of a
favorite song had been played back to him.

“Who
cares . . .” he said.

“I’m
hungry.”

“You eat
by the clock?”

“Don’t
you?”

“I eat
when I’m hungry.”

“You’re
undisciplined, that’s why. We’re supposed to eat at regular intervals. It says
so . . .”

“No, it
doesn’t.”

“Yes, it
does.”

“No, it
doesn’t.”

She
patted his shoulder a last pat and got up out of bed. On the way to the
bathroom, he watched her full rump and the way her strong legs carried her so
effortlessly and wondered how she ever got so
strong,
being a biologist. She looked as if she did physical labor, using her body to
lift and move. She wasn’t stringy or overly lean but smooth and thick in the
right places; thighs, calves, arms and back. Her most dramatic feature were her
legs and hips; so perfectly shaped and powerful that the effect was dizzying.
Her belly too, was a sexual organ, not flat but slightly rounded; taut and
muscular under the perfectly smooth skin. He finally decided it was probably
genetic; just the luck of the draw. Whatever the cause of that superb
configuration, he was sure he’d never enjoyed a woman’s body as much as he just
had hers. He longed to lose himself in that strong flesh again, and soon.

They ate
in the near dark; the kitchen illuminated by a single night-light. She pounded
her food down as if she were starved, concentrating on the task to the
exclusion of all else. Head down, she shoveled it in, finally scraping the tray
with her fork. He thought she was going to pick the tray up and lick it, but
she stopped with a final blank stare at it, as if making sure she’d cleaned it
enough. Satisfied, she raised her head and smiled at him. “You
were
hungry,” he said.

He
watched her repress a belch and then she smiled again. “I like food. Food is
good. Food keeps you alive.”

It was
supposed to be silly and a little funny, and it was. But underneath the
childlike sing-song was a note of solemn certainty, an undeniable reality that
snarled up out of some dark and primitive cerebral hollow.

The rear
door chimed, and John got up to see who it was. He turned on the backlight, and
there was Joe Devonshire standing a few feet away from the door in his net
suit, a look of amused excitement on his face.

“Hi,” Joe
said.

“Hi.
What’s going on?” John said through the screen.

“I’ve got
some interesting news.”

“What’s
that?”

“You
haven’t heard then?”

“Nope.
Guess not.”

“Ed
Smith’s been arrested.”

“Come on
in,” John said, then unlocked the door and held it open for him. Devonshire
slid past him, unzipping his protective garb. John re-latched the door then
held out his open hand to point him to the kitchen.

“Hi,
Joe,” Rachel said. “What’s this about Smith?”

“He’s
been arrested. Can you believe it?”

It was
hard to believe but stranger things had happened. John and Rachel exchanged
looks.

“For
what?” Rachel asked.

“For
everything!”

More
looks.

“When was
this?” John wanted to know.

“Just
tonight. It turns out the Commonwealth Sentinels have been watching him for months.
They’ve got him for reckless endangerment of human life, embezzlement,
attempted murder. You name it.”

“How
about that . . .” Rachel said.

“Well I
guess that nurse won’t have to go into hiding after all,” Joe said.

“I beg
your pardon,” Rachel said. “What are you talking about?”

Joe
swallowed so hard Rachel saw his Adam’s apple move. He shouldn’t have known
anything at all about Donna going into hiding. Rachel looked at John and got
steely nothingness in return. The sudden sense of danger in the room seemed to
freeze the air. John got slowly up out of his chair to put his dishes in the
trash. To do that, he had to step around Devonshire and go into the rear
doorway. When he did, he saw a movement, like a shadow moving back away from
the doorway.

He dumped
his tray into the can and closed the lid. As he stepped up past Devonshire, he
wrapped his arm around the younger man’s neck and pulled him close. Devonshire
didn’t like it.

“Hey! How
come you’re always grabbing me. Let go . . .”

“I like
you . . .”

Donna
appeared in the hall.

“What’s
this? A party?” she asked.

“Why
don’t you go back to bed, Donna. Go on.”

The look
on John’s face caused a warning to go off in her head and she backed away a few
steps, just into the shadows.

Devonshire
reached into his pocket and his fingers found the weapon Kelly had given him.
He pulled it up as slowly as he could. His heart was pounding with every
centimeter gained. When he got it all the way out, he aimed the muzzle of the
little pistol at Rachel’s head.

“What is
that, Joe?” she asked.

“A gun.
And I’ll kill you with it if he doesn’t let go of me.” John slowly unfurled his
arm from around Devonshire’s neck, allowing him to slide away against the wall.
From there he had a good angle on both of them. He craned his neck into the
hall.

“C’mon
out, doctor! There’s no way out!”

The rear
door burst open as if it had been hit with a truck and Rachel screamed. In the
entryway was the largest, meanest-looking human being he’d ever seen, stark
naked and heavily tattooed. John had seen the man around the installation and
was sure he’d ferried him once or twice. But this wasn’t the same sullen and
spooky rigger he’d seen around the dock; this was a maniac. The thick rod in
his hands looked sinister and deadly. He smiled at Rachel with a twisted grin.

“I’ve
been waiting for this one,” he said to no one in particular, but looking
directly at Rachel.

“Joe,
what is this?” Rachel barked at him. “Get out of here!” Kelly smiled and
chuckled.

“What are
you doing!” she asked.

“Having
some fun is all,” he drooled. “Just having some fun.”

“What do
you want..?”

“Stand
up!” Kelly yelled at her.

“No,”
Rachel replied firmly.

“Do as he
says, Rachel,” John said.

Rachel
stood up slowly. She was dressed only in her panties and a loose-fitting top
that exposed most of her midriff. She crossed her smooth, bare arms in defense.
Kelly took a step or two closer and reached out with the end of the ornate rod.
He brought it against her crotch and pressed. John watched it dent the perfect flesh
at that juncture and cursed himself for not being able to stop it.

“Spread .
. .” Kelly hissed.

She
hesitated and he pushed with the rod, almost knocking her off balance. She
caught herself against the table, then reluctantly spread her legs.