Galactic Energies (15 page)

I stay silent. It's true, I have given up a lot, but what I desire is not the body of a mutant. I miss the love of my youth, what's in front of me is only an illusion. I can't, however, move away from it. I observe her sinuous limbs more closely. I force myself to think that she's not Alessandra. I think about her original form but I stay there, facing her. I approach the forcefield. I lift a hand and touch her with the tip of my finger. She stares intensely into my eyes. I stop. I let my hand fall. I turn around and take a few steps away.

“Ian...” she starts to say.

“Stop it!” I shout in reply.

I quickly go back to her. I plunge my hand through the forcefield, feeling the slight tingle on my skin, and violently slap Ipsia. I don't know why I did it. I look down. I want to apologize, but I say nothing.

“Fantastic,” she says. “You've finally started to relax a little.”

My hand is still there. She takes it into hers and slowly brings it to her breast, staring straight into my eyes. I want to let her do as she pleases. I've already stopped resisting. I only want those breasts, that body, that being. I'm not interested in anything else. I want her and I want to possess her, but I pull my hand back and leave the control room, beside myself with rage.

10

I spend the next few hours doing chores, without looking once towards the cell. I enter and leave the control room heading directly towards the other door. I now look at the forcefield, which closes off the cell, like any other of the many walls on this spaceship. Enough! This whole thing with the mutant went much too far. She's a monster, an illusion, a copy of the person who's really in my heart. She's like a bad witch who takes on the form of the beautiful princess in fairy tales for kids. Soon, in just a few more days, I'll finally unload her in a maximum security prison, where she'll stay for the rest of her days.

What point was there in succumbing to temptation? Perhaps I could have abused a body destined to be locked up forever? What she offered me was a simple, sad and ordinary pleasure of the flesh. It has nothing to do with the dreams of love I let come over me every once in a while.

“Ian, please, communicate with me. You're the last person I'll be able to talk to,” she continues. “Then I'll be in prison for the rest of my life. You're all I have left in this world.”

“Ipsia,” I'm calling her by her name,
am I crazy?
“It's the destiny you chose for yourself. You didn't have to go against the FoW. You stole federal secrets and sold them to independent worlds knowing what you were going up against, and now you're here, waiting for the consequences of your actions.”

“Ian, the FoW isn't everything in this galaxy. You know better than me how it acts in such an arrogant and despotic way with all the worlds that don't want to be a part of it. Its constitution is based on principles of respect and solidarity with other planets, but the FoW doesn't do anything but pursue its own interests, to the detriment of independent worlds.”

She speaks passionately, and her rage is sincere. Her body seems to vibrate with every world. Maybe I'm starting to understand why she did what she did.

“Show me your true body, mutant.”

Without responding, she's changes shape in a fraction of a second. Now she's smaller, less than five feet tall. Her face is round, with a thin forehead and eyes spread wide apart. Her nose is tiny. Her limbs are graceful, but very thin. Her skin seems to be covered with what looks like fish scales. She has no hair.

She's pretty, a graceful creature, seemingly defenseless and in need of protection.

As I enter the cell, I feel the heat of the forcefield when it comes into contact with my skin.

“System,” I order the space shuttle. “Armchairs, table.”

Two comfortable chairs materialize from the floor. I nod towards Ipsia to sit down in one of them.

I ask the system for a typical earthling menu from the medieval era.

I tell her about the food we're eating and the historical period it comes from. She listens, curious, and from time to time asks me a funny question. Then it's her turn and she tells me about her world, which I know only from the holobooks and where I've never been. We have a good time. It feels like a dinner between friends, and I like her. Maybe, in her real form, for the first time I see something different: a delicate creature that uses her own power to fight against the FoW and live up to her own ideals. Ipsia seems to intuit some of my thoughts. “This is the form we're born in, but we can take on any appearance and keep it for an undetermined time. We change forms how you change clothes. And as some of you prefer to keep a certain style for your entire life, we remain in the forms that we like, for years. We take on imaginative appearances or sometimes those inspired by other species. Sometimes we conform to the inhabitants in the place where we go to work. Even when you and Eianus were following me, I often took on the form of Alessandra. I was fascinated with her because she was the girl who you were in love with.”

I lower my eyes, embarrassed. I don't know what to say. When I look up again, Alessandra is in front of me, smiling.

“Do it. No one will ever know. Come to me. It's what we both want. There's nothing wrong with letting your emotions carry you away if you're not hurting anyone.”

She gets up and straddles me. She brings her chest to my face. Her nipples start to caress my lips.

“Relax,” she whispers.

My mouth remains closed and frozen. My hands are inert on the chair.

I don't want to do it. I want to resist even if it's the biggest temptation I've ever felt. Letting myself go with her would mean betraying everything I've lived and fought for.

“Please, just do it.”

My tongue, hesitant, touches her nipple. I start to lick it, slowly. She sighs with pleasure. The silence is broken only by her gasps of pleasure and the whirring of the space shuttle. Then I close my lips. I taste her. I lift my left hand and bring it to her breast. I wrap the other around her waist. She moans with pleasure. Both of us want nothing more than to come together.

“System, empty cell!”

The cell is nothing but an empty cube. We're standing, embracing. I take her hands and press them against the wall, making her turn around. From behind, I devour her neck with kisses and bites. I undo my suit and let it fall to my feet, and then I lower her g-string. We're naked. I cover both her hands with my own, raised against the wall. I push my sex between her butt cheeks. I rub up against her and she moves under me. I want her, intensely. And she wants me. She lowers a hand to bring my sex into her vagina. I feel her on the tip of me, but I don't push. I don't want to, I need to stop myself here. This thing needs to finish. Then I bring a hand to her mouth. I feel her teeth on my index finger. She bites it and licks it. I violently push my sex inside of her, suffocating the moan coming out of her mouth with my hand.

11

I'm afraid. I feel guilty. I want to stop.

I'm alone in my cabin and I can't go back to the control room anymore.

The spaceship is alright. The systems are operating normally. I can handle all the command functions from here.

I don't want to go back to her, but I know how hard it is for me to resist. It's stronger than me.

After that first time we've done it not just one, but many other times. After every time, I take refuge here, in my cabin, as if this could heal me from the desire that's devouring me.

I force myself to think critically about what I'm doing.

I feel my career, my values, my ideals and what my father taught me are sliding far away from me. I know my life is taking a turn for the worst, that it's headed away from the success I've worked so hard to build.

Every time I see her, sensual, attractive, splendid, any other thought disappears from the front of my mind. Desire again attacks me.

To hell with all the rest!
I get up and head towards the control room. When I enter, she turns towards me. She smiles at me. The expression on her face seems so innocent! The galactic criminal, among the most dangerous criminals at large in the Federation, really has the smile of a little girl. She seems happy.

“Come here,” she says, holding a hand out towards me.

I want her embrace, I desire her desperately. I enter the cell. She comes close to me and lets me hold her tightly.

“Sofa!” I command the system.

We settle in comfortably. She caresses my hair. She's so sweet and maternal.

“Don't worry,” she whispers. “Why are you so upset? What's making you unhappy?”

“I adore you,” I respond. “I don't think I can live without you. I want you so bad it makes me crazy.”

“And why does this make you unhappy, Ian?”

“You're a criminal: you belong in prison, and I'm the one who has to take you there.” I pause. “My place isn't in your arms.”

She kisses me sweetly in response.

I'm dying of desire for her. I feel her hands play with the curls of my brown hair.

I let myself relax, yet again. Her clothes literally disappear. I throw mine on the floor. I bend my head down between her legs, looking to give her pleasure. She moans and sighs. I try to make her convulse with passion. When she reaches orgasm, her body shakes for several long seconds.

“System, cancel the forcefield.” I'm insane, I know.

The system performs my command. The cell is open, she can leave. She's free.

We kiss, leaning against the cell walls, then against the wall outside. We go to the command chair of the space shuttle. I sit down. She straddles me and we make love like two savages.

She's free. And she's with me in the control room.

We're two lovers, in love, two creatures that passionately desire one another.

12

In the bed of my cabin, Ipsia turns and gives me a languid, smiling gaze. The cell is just a memory now. We live like two lovers.

“Have we made love everywhere there is to make love on your spaceship, or is there still somewhere else we need to explore?” she asks me, laughing.

She's lying down next to me, gorgeous. I caress her backbone all the way down to her butt.

“Maybe we've gone through all the secret spots, but I still have thousands of exotic forms to explore.”

“It's fun to explore erotic earthling culture,” she says, teasing me.

“While we're on the subject, what do you think of the holobooks on Egypt I gave you?”

“Nice story, well written, interesting characters. And the Pharaoh Cleopatra seemed much more aware than many other sovereigns in earthling history. Have you ever fantasized about her?”

“Actually...” I answer, smiling.

“Well it seems to me that at the time, there were few men able to handle the powerful queen.”

“That's true, but they say she also had a particular hold over her loyal servants.”

“Well, do we have an aspiring servant for the Pharaoh Cleopatra here?

Ipsia takes on the form of the queen and I spend hours happily attending to her every need. I take care of her beauty and her pleasure. I massage her, cover her with oil and cream, comb her hair.

“Come here, my handsome servant,” she finally tells me.

I come close to her.

“You've been good, and you deserve a reward.”

“Thanks, my queen.”

“Close your eyes!”

I feel a scarf over my eyes and behind my head. She urges me to lie on my back on the bed. I feel her thighs on my body. Then it's only pleasure.

13

We live in our dream of love. We don't talk about where the spaceship's going.

We're heading towards a maximum security prison where she'll lose her liberty forever. Everything starts to seem crazy and absurd.

She seems happy with me. I'm in love with her, even though I'm the one bringing her to the end of her freedom.

“Ipsia, where are we going?”

We're in my bed. We made love and we're going to sleep together again, like any other couple in love. I know she's still awake.

“We're headed towards a planet called Forzis, where the Federation imprisons bad guys like me who cross them,” she responds. Her tone of voice is calm and tranquil, as if she was talking to someone else.

“But I don't want to leave you, you know. I can't be apart from you. I wouldn't know what to do, how to live. Without you I'd be lost, but even worse, I can't imagine you inside of a prison, all locked up, while you think about your freedom,” I say. I'm exasperated.

“Don't worry about me, Ian. Think about your future. I'm going to be fine, I won't have any problems.” She seems to be begging me. “You've lived your whole life to be what you are now. You've spent day after day wanting and building what you have. You're a police officer, and you're happy to be that.”

“Now I'm not so sure,” I answer, quietly.

“How did you decide to become a police officer, Ian?”

“I've always wanted to be one. My father was one before me. I saw him on the holos when he nabbed criminals, and I always wanted to be like him. Together we'd play cops and robbers. I never really thought of being anything else. Being like him was always my biggest dream in the world. And I always looked up to him and wanted him be proud of me.”

“Was he?” she asks.

“Yes, my father died right after I pulled off an extraordinary feat. There was trafficking of young earthlings coming from very poor areas, they were being taken to other planets and forced to work as prostitutes. With the team given to me, I was able to find all the members of the criminal organization. We arrested them and freed all of the poor girls, who were working in bordellos frequented by every type of species. The mission's success became a media sensation. My father immediately called me after hearing on the holonews that, because of the mission's success, I was being given a special distinction.”

“Take me to prison, Ian. Don't throw all of this away.”

“Ipsia, you know that I can't do it.”

“Ian, I'll be fine, I promise you.”

“NO!” I say, raising my voice. “You won't be fine, you'll be a prisoner for the rest of your existence and I'll be the one who made that happen!”