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Bodies of Light

ISBN #978-0-85715-566-5

©Copyright Lisabet Sarai 2011

Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright May 2011

Edited by Lisa Cox

Total-E-Bound Publishing

This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved.  No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.

Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing.  Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

Published in 2011 by Total-E-Bound Publishing, Think Tank, Ruston Way, Lincoln, LN6 7FL, United Kingdom.

Warning:  This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers.  This story has been rated Total-e-burning.

BODIES OF LIGHT

Lisabet Sarai

Dedication

To Chris, for encouraging me to write about new worlds.

Chapter One

She had failed.

Suspension was supposed to be dreamless. Still, frustration and disappointment swirled through her consciousness. Pain nagged her, the ache of goals missed, work left undone. What work? She could not recall. She knew only that it had been critically important.

Layers of confusion swaddled her mind like heavy blankets, smothering any attempt at logic. The incoherence of her thoughts disturbed her further. Images, words and symbols crept into focus then faded before she could decipher their meanings. The need to understand was an itch she could not scratch.

She hung in a dark, foggy void, disembodied and disoriented. Only her emotions had any clarity. She could not banish the certainty that she had been tested and found wanting.

Then came the light.

In the void there was no time. Without transition, light arced through her, golden arrows that pierced and scattered her despair. She had no eyes but somehow she was drenched in rainbow-edged glory. Shimmering waves of aquamarine and cerise danced before her—through her—banishing her darkness. She heard the light as well as saw it, a strange melody that pulsed in rhythm with the glow, tugging at her heart. Irrational joy flooded her.

“Christine.” The voice wound in and out among the chords. It caressed her being, promising comfort and release from care.

“Christine.” A second voice (yet how could she know this, without ears to hear?) whispered in the brief pauses between notes, deeper, darker, a gorgeous contrast with the flaring colours that bathed her thoughts. The new voice spoke of pleasure, of desire and exquisite satisfaction.

“You are not alone,” the first voice murmured.

“We are with you,” the second announced, bold and bright as a trumpet call. At the same time, sensation rippled through her. Invisible hands cupped and massaged her breasts (but she had no body, no breasts…) until sparks flew from the nipples to merge with the spiralling brightness. Fingertips trailed along her non-existent skin, triggering pleasure so intense it frightened her. The silver voice—as she pictured the first—soothed her without words. The bronze voice laughed like ringing bells and coaxed ever more unbearable delight from her insubstantial body. Her soundless moans rose to join the prismatic symphony in which she floated.

The twin voices teased and enticed her, urging her to let go. “We will support you,” they crooned as pleasure suffused her. She stopped trying to understand how she could experience such arousal when she had no limbs, no sex. She was the pleasure, a multi-hued whirl of harmonious vibration in crescendo.

Silver-voice sang her to the top. Bronze-voice held her there, his power shuddering through her, driving out the fear. “Now fly,” said the darker voice and released her.

Pure white energy bloomed from her, rushing outwards. Bliss followed in the wake of the blossoming brilliance. The music swelled to a blinding chorus then thundered into silence.

Darkness descended once more, warm and welcoming, cradling Christine like a beloved child. She reached out mentally for the two voices, but caught only faint echoes of their presence. A twinge of sorrow marred her comfort for a moment, then evaporated. All was well.

Christine slipped deeper into the sweet unconsciousness of suspension, forgetting her doubts and regrets.

* * * *

The alarm buzzed in Christine’s ears like an angry wasp. Electric current crackled along her skin, goading her long-dormant nerves into responsiveness. Her attempt to inhale turned into a racking cough as her body expelled the last traces of fluid from her lungs. Her eyes flickered open. Dim as it was, the blue-tinged light within the suspension pod made her head pound.

Her limbs felt weighted with lead. She tried to wiggle her fingers. They were stiff, as though encrusted with rust. The gel that cradled her gradually warmed. As it did, her joints grew more flexible. Little by little the pod thawed her long-immobile body.

As soon as she could lift her arm, she groped for the release switch. Her movements were clumsy and slow. The curved hatch over her face slid back, exposing her to the cooler air outside. Goosebumps rose on her bare skin. She pulled the tubes from her arms and pushed aside the tangle of cables strapped around her brow. When she struggled to sit up, a wave of dizziness crashed over her. She waited for the vertigo to subside.

The fog in her brain thinned a bit. She remembered where she was—the Archimedes, en route to Sirius 2. Had they arrived, then? Listening closely, she heard nothing but her own breathing.

The suspension bay was located near the centre of the ship in order to protect it from possible meteor damage to the hull. There were no viewports. It hardly mattered. Christine was a physicist, not an astronomer or a pilot. Even if she could have seen the stars, she couldn’t have read them. She needed to get to the bridge, to figure out how far they were from their destination and whether it was time to revive the rest of the crew.

She swung her legs out of the coffin-like suspension capsule and took a stab at standing. Her knees buckled when she transferred her weight, leaving her slumped on the rubber-clad floor. Her head swam. When her vision cleared, she tried again. This time she managed to stay upright although she had to lean on the capsule for support.

Christine took a deep breath. She felt the strength returning gradually to her body. Her skin was slimy with residue from the nutrient gel that had nourished her inanimate form during the months—or was it years?—since the ship had departed.

At point-nine lightspeed, the maximum velocity of which the Archimedes was capable, the journey to the Sirius cluster should have taken almost thirteen years. Was that long wait really over? It had seemed like the blink of an eye. A kind of rosy haze hung in her mind, a sense of peace and well-being, but she couldn’t remember any details about her time in stasis.

She surveyed the nineteen other capsules arranged around the perimeter of the bay. She seemed to be the only one the ship had awakened. She stumbled over to the closest pod—Ravin Conter, the xenobiologist and her assigned partner—and peered in through the curved glass. She could just make out his rugged features, pale and composed.

Something wasn’t right, though. Her thoughts still disordered by the transition, it took her ten seconds to put her finger on the problem. The capsule should have been lit from within by the same low-intensity blue as her own had been. However, there was no interior illumination. Only the ambient light of the bay made Ravin’s face visible.

“Ravin!” she cried. Her voice woke hollow echoes in the metal-walled chamber. The vital sign indicators on the control panel were blank. She keyed the emergency revival sequence into the controls on the top of the pod. Nothing happened. There was no power running to the capsule. It was dead, and so, it was obvious, was the person within.

“No!”

She stared at Ravin’s naked form, cradled in blue-green gel and twined in wires and hoses. How could he be dead? What had happened? Christine whirled around to check the next capsule—Amber Stone, ship’s doctor and the closest thing she had to a friend. Like Ravin’s, Amber’s pod was dark and unresponsive.

Fighting down her panic, Christine examined the remaining suspension capsules. All appeared to have malfunctioned. All the occupants lay in darkness within, perfectly-preserved corpses.

“No, no—please, no!” she keened, sinking to her knees in the centre of the room. “Oh, please…” Her eyes burned as tears welled up for the first time in years.

She had not really been close to anyone on the Archimedes—she and Ravin had been paired solely on the basis of genetic and psychological compatibility—but she had liked and respected them all. They’d had the courage to volunteer for Earth’s first interstellar mission, to risk their lives for the future of humanity. Hell, they’d fought hard for the opportunity, beating the hundreds of other candidates. They’d endured the two years of gruelling preparation. They’d climbed willingly into the suspension capsules knowing they wouldn’t emerge for years—if ever. Each had left his or her life on Earth behind, well aware that the odds of the mission succeeding were small and that, even if it did succeed, they could never return.

Now they were gone and, with them, all hope of establishing a colony. The mission was a failure—one final failure in the long series that had been her life.

Guilt and grief crashed down upon her. She bent double, her forehead against the floor, sobbing until knives of pain lanced through her chest.

If only she had found the key, the missing variable that would make the equations work, none of this would have happened. Physicists were convinced that faster than light travel was possible. Everyone knew there had to be a way to bend space and create wormholes—science fiction tales had assumed this for generations. Yet nearly a century after men had first landed on the moon, no one had figured out the mathematics to support the widely-held conviction.

Christine had poured twenty years of her life into solving the problem. She had failed along with everyone else. That was why she’d dedicated herself to the Archimedes mission. Her lack of insight meant that only the closest stars were plausible targets. Even then, an interstellar crew would need to spend years in stasis before they reached their destination. She was determined to pay the price for her failure. Somehow, signing on to the Archimedes had seemed like a way to make amends.

And now what? Her tears trailed off, leaving her throat sore and her eyes prickly. She was on her own, the only survivor of some bizarre accident. Well, she was used to being alone, wasn’t she? She’d always been by herself, ever since her parents had succumbed to the plague. Her grandmother had taken Christine in and had tried to compensate for the loss, but it had already been too late. The solemn six-year-old had decided she’d rather wall herself off from love than risk the pain of losing it again.

Christine’s practical side reasserted itself. Rising on wobbly legs, she surveyed her surroundings in an attempt to evaluate the situation. The ship as a whole clearly had power. A glow-strip along the ceiling illuminated the suspension bay. The fact that she was breathing proved the life support systems were functional, at least in this sector of the ship. She needed to get to the bridge and examine the instruments.

In one of the storage cabinets lining the walls, she found a coverall and magnetic sandals that fit. The ship’s atmosphere was a bit too cool to make nakedness comfortable, while the artificial gravity was no more than half a gee. Her chestnut hair, cropped short before departure, now hung in her eyes and reached halfway down her back. She raked her fingers through the tangles, then tied the heavy mass into a knot at the base of her neck.

She needed to discover how far along the ship had come in its journey and if possible—if the malfunctioning suspension equipment was an isolated fault, rather than a symptom of wider system failure—send a message back to Earth. A transmission wouldn’t arrive for years, of course, but at least the family of the crew members would eventually learn their fate. They’d be heroes—assuming that Earth hadn’t been torn apart in the interim by war or natural disaster. Colonising space had been the planet’s last hope.

And what about her own fate? How long could Christine survive, alone on a ship she didn’t really know how to control, headed into unknown reaches of space?

She palmed the access plate and the hatch hissed open. She could deal with the solitude. She’d had lots of practice. And as for survival, well—while the thought of death filled her with dread, her rational self recognised there was little reason for her to continue living. The mission had failed. She had failed. What was the point?

Chapter Two

The bridge was as silent as the suspension bay. However, a survey of the blinking panels and rotating 3D displays revealed that the entire ship had power. The pods had been some kind of anomaly. Relieved, Christine settled into the pilot’s chair (Sven Harlsson, gone like all the rest) and searched the cluttered controls until she found the viewport activation button. The curved shields slid open, revealing a hemisphere of blackness. For the first time, Christine gazed out into the emptiness of interstellar space.

Terror tightened her throat. She was falling into the immense void before her, drowning in the utter absence of light or form. She closed her eyes, trying to summon the scientist within her. No one had seen this before, the vast reaches of the universe outside Earth’s solar system. She was the first.

She forced herself to peer into the darkness, pressing against the transparent carbon-crystal of the viewport. As her vision adapted, she found she could see faint glowing clouds that must be galaxies and pinpricks of light that were distant stars. The universe was not totally empty, after all. She swallowed her fear and tried to speak.

“Request interstellar coordinates.” Her long-unused voice came out as a croak, but Archimedes understood her command.

“Three hundred and fifty nine degrees 56’ 39.5’ galactic latitude, minus two degrees 42’ 46.3’ galactic longitude,” the ship replied crisply.

“Request distance from Sirius cluster.”

“Approximately thirty-four-point-seven light years.”

“What?” That was farther away than they’d been when they started! “There must be a mistake! Recheck your calculations.”

The ship’s computer hesitated for a fraction of a second—almost as though it were offended, Christine thought. “There is no error. Current position is 34.68643 light years from Sirius, 41.321966 light years from Terra. Current speed is point-nine-one-seven-c. Heading is twenty-two degrees 13’ b by nine degrees 2’ l.”

Forty-one light years from Earth! Had they overshot their goal? Of course, a tiny miscalculation in their initial trajectory would be magnified into an increasingly large discrepancy the farther the ship travelled from its starting point. “How long has it been since departure?”

“Four years, sixty-two days, four hours and twenty-two minutes,” the ship intoned.

Only four years? “That’s not possible,” Christine objected. Given their maximum velocity, they could not have travelled anywhere near this far. Something was very wrong.

“Run full self-diagnostics,” she ordered. “Report any faults.”

The computer was silent for about ten seconds. Christine stared out of the viewport, wondering whether any of the faint, flickering points of brightness might be Sol.

“Self-diagnostics completed,” Archimedes announced. “No faults detected.”

Christine leant back in the padded chair with a weary sigh. Pain pounded in her temples. Her usually nimble mind felt stiff and rusty. She had to figure this out.

Once again, she saw Ravin’s blank, lifeless face. She had not loved him, but she had respected him, and he had given her pleasure during their pre-launch familiarisation exercises. She found that she missed him. “The crew are all dead,” she murmured to herself. “I’m the only one left, and I’m lost in space, billions of kilometres off course.”

“All suspension pod power was terminated,” the ship commented. “A collision with unidentified debris damaged the electrical distribution cables in the hull. Backup systems failed to engage.”

“What? How long ago did this happen?”

“Sixty-two hours and seventeen minutes ago.” Less than three days! If she had awakened a bit sooner, she might have saved them. The impact must have triggered the reactivation sequence in her own pod. Or perhaps the backup had kicked in to handle the life support for her pod alone.

“EVA is recommended to repair the breach,” Archimedes added. “Probability of atmospheric loss over the next twenty-four hours is point-four-six.”

Christine collapsed on to the control panel, her face buried in her hands, squeezing her eyes tight to hold back the tears. The ship wanted her to risk her life, venturing outside to patch the hole before the air escaped. But why should she bother? She was dead one way or the other.

The vastness of space weighed on her, even when she was not looking at it. The unending blackness threatened to smother her. She felt as empty and hollow as the universe stretching into infinity on every side.

* * * *

“Christine.” The voice rang like crystal and flowed like water, a far cry from the flat, synthetic tones of the Archimedes.  “Do not despair, lovely one.”

Christine could not help smiling at the endearment. No one had called her lovely for a very long time. She kept her eyes closed, willing the dream to continue.

“We are with you, Christine.” Deeper, richer, edged with laughter, another voice chimed in. “You are not alone.” A cool, soothing palm cupped her brow. Strong hands settled on her shoulders, drawing her upright, then slipped down to cradle her breasts. Luscious heat suffused her, focused on her suddenly-taut nipples. They were smouldering embers ready to burst into flame. Soft lips brushed her neck just below the hairline, sending shivers spiralling through her. Someone unknotted her hair and let the weight of it cascade freely down her back. She sighed as careful fingers eased out the tangles. Each gentle tug at her scalp was pure pleasure.

The caresses ceased for an instant while her chair swung away from the control panel. Then the sensations began again, delicious and irresistible—unseen hands kneading her breasts, a warm mouth nuzzling her earlobe, a teasing tickle tracing its way down her belly, firm pressure parting her thighs and the barest graze of a fingertip across her pubis. A fierce stab of delight ripped away her languid mood. She moaned, arching up towards the retreating finger. Laughter poured over her like dark honey.

“You like that, sweet?” asked the baritone. The finger returned, pressing into her nylon-covered cleft and sliding back and forth along her length.

Christine gasped. “Oh, yes…” Swirls of fluorescent colour danced on her closed eyelids. Familiar scents teased her nostrils, earth after a rain and new-mown grass. The finger moved faster. The soaked fabric of her coveralls slithered across her sensitised flesh. A climax gathered in her depths, heavy and full as summer thunderheads. “More,” she whispered, just as someone dragged the zip of her garment down below her waist. “More!” she yelled, as sharp teeth fastened on her bared nipple and hard digits plunged into her naked cunt.

Dozens of hands fluttered over her skin, strummed in her pussy, plucked at her swollen breasts. The ripe clouds burst. A torrent of pleasure flooded her senses. Her body dissolved. There was nothing left but pure ecstasy, vibrating through her being like celestial music.

“Open your eyes.” The higher voice, the one that shimmered like liquid starlight, spoke close to her ear. The suggestion filtered through her post-orgasmic haze. This dream is certainly tenacious, she thought, her limbs still tingling. Usually I wake up after I come.

“We’re here with you now,” added the earthy voice, from the other side. “Look upon us.”

Why should she resist? It was just a dream. Her eyelids felt leaden but she forced them apart.

A stranger stood to her right. He had marble-pale skin and hair like spun silver. Smoke-coloured brows shaded his piercing violet eyes. A pert nose and full lips gave him an androgynous look, but his lithe body was undeniably male—especially the column of rigid flesh that jutted from his groin.

Arousal flickered through Christine’s body, faint echoes of her recent climax. “Who are you?” she queried, her mouth watering at the sight of his sturdy erection. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m Alyn,” the young man answered with a smile that stole Christine’s breath. His skin gleamed in the dim light of the bridge as though dusted with stars. Fat pink nipples winked at her from his smoothly muscled chest. She ached to touch them. As though he read her thoughts, he reached for her hand and drew it to his breast. “I’m here for you, Christine. To cherish and to comfort you.”

His skin was silk under her palm. She moulded the shape of his pectoral and flicked at the taut nub at its centre. His cock surged in response. A drop of clear moisture gathered at the tip. She wet her lips, suddenly hungry. “Alyn,” she repeated, rolling the name on her tongue.

“And I’m Zed,” came the deeper voice, from her left. She turned to gaze at the second man, taller and stockier than Alyn but equally beautiful. Zed had jet hair and ebony eyes. With his prominent cheekbones, broad mouth and bronzed complexion, he made Christine think of some ancient tribal warrior. A provocative grin lit his face. He seized her other hand and curled her fingers around his swollen cock. “This is for you, little one.”

Blood pulsed through his shaft. Her small hand could barely encompass his girth. She squeezed and felt him harden further. He thrust into her palm, satin-sheathed stone. Her pussy ached to feel him driving into her depths.

Alyn knelt before her and removed her sandals, then pulled her to her feet. “We’ve been waiting for you to awaken.”

Zed leant forward to push the coverall off of her shoulders. “We knew you’d need company.” In a few seconds she was naked. Zed’s cock nudged the back of her hand, playfully inviting her to renew possession.

The dream was remarkably vivid. Every nerve sparked as Alyn circled behind her, reaching around to clasp her breasts. He pressed himself against her, nestling his hardness in the valley between her buttocks while he teased her nipples and nibbled her neck. Meanwhile Zed slipped his blunt fingers into her soaked pussy. His thumb found her clit and lingered there. Bolts of electric pleasure sizzled through her.

“Oh, please…” she sighed, as Zed pushed another digit into her, then spread his fingers wide. She was empty and hungry, crazy with want. She needed to be filled. Zed’s cock, Alyn’s cock, she didn’t care which, but if someone didn’t fill her she thought she’d die.

“She’s ready,” murmured Alyn. Releasing her breasts, he parted her buttocks and drove into her pussy from behind. The force of his entry crushed her against Zed’s powerful frame. The bulb of the heavier man’s cock prodded her clit, waking fresh spasms of delight.

Zed gripped her hips, holding her steady while Alyn thrust deep and hard. She arched her back, grinding her ass against Alyn’s pubis and urging him on. She was full now, deliciously so, but she wanted more. Zed’s cock slid back and forth at her entrance, bumping on every stroke against the other man’s organ embedded in her sex. The thought of them touching, skin on skin, pushed her higher still, closer to the edge.

All at once Zed dug his nails into her flesh. His pelvis jerked, hard enough to knock her off her feet. With a massive thrust, he buried his organ in her well-lubricated cavity, next to Alyn’s shaft.

Christine screamed, stretched to the limit, certain she’d be torn apart. Then a thunderous wave of pleasure crashed down upon her, sweeping away the brief pain. The two men held her close, stilling their movements while she became accustomed to the double invasion.

She gasped for breath. The fullness was exquisite. Her cunt clenched around the two cocks. They swelled inside her, taking her over. They’ll come together, she thought, inside me, mingling their seed. The notion drove her wild.

Sensing her rising arousal, Alyn and Zed resumed their thrusts. Perfectly synchronised, they drew back then plunged together into her depths. Zed’s steely shaft grazed her clit on each stroke. Alyn’s balls slapped the backs of her thighs. Christine surrendered completely to their shared power. She floated on a cloud of delirious sensation, pleasure more acute than she’d ever known.

All at once, she realised that they actually were floating. The three of them writhed and squirmed a metre above the floor. Free fall, she thought, feeling giddy and strange. Without her sandals to anchor her, the force of Zed’s entry had propelled them all into the air. Even in my dreams, I can’t get away from physics.

Alyn clutched her shoulders, crying out in some foreign tongue. His cock shuddered and convulsed as he emptied himself into her depths. Zed followed an instant later, grinding his pelvis against her clit as he came. The friction served as the final spark to kindle her own climax. Thought whirled away. There was only pleasure, deep and satisfying, welling up from some place at the heart of her and spilling over.

Chapter Three

Christine awakened in her bunk. She didn’t remember how she’d got there, but oh, she remembered her dream! She had never experienced anything like it. Maybe there’s something about suspension that stimulates the libido, she thought. Or maybe I’m already starting to become psychotic from the loneliness.

Her pussy felt sore and her thighs were sticky. She concluded that she must have been masturbating in her sleep. Her headache, however, was gone, and her mind felt sharper than it had since she’d come out of stasis. Plus she was hungry—ravenous, in fact.

She spent nearly ten minutes in the ultrasonic shower, trying to cleanse herself of the residue from her dream. The folds of her sex were tender and sensitive. The lightest touch made her squirm.

After dressing in loose pants, a T-shirt and her magnetic shoes, she made her way to the dining hall. Twenty empty chairs were ranged neatly around the elliptical table. The last time she’d been here, they’d been full, as the crew ate its last meal together before entering suspension. A vicious pang of sorrow knifed her chest.

She pushed her dark thoughts into the background, concentrating on the process of rehydrating and heating a freeze-dried food pack.

She should do something about the bodies. Standard procedure in the case of a death required her to notify Earth then wrap the corpse in a pressure suit and eject it into space. But there were nineteen corpses! Plus any message she sent today wouldn’t arrive for forty years.

Then there was the problem of the hole in the hull. “Request status of oxygen leak,” she called out as she flipped open the dispenser on a carton of orange juice. She sucked in a mouthful of the sugary liquid.

“Minimal leakage has been detected so far,” the computer answered. “However, the breach has grown by six-point-five centimetres since last report. Probability of complete atmospheric loss in the next twenty-four hours is point-five-three. Recommend EVA for repair should commence as soon as possible.”

She really didn’t feel like making the effort. What was the use? She’d die anyway, of starvation or madness. In the past, she’d always scorned people who committed suicide. Killing oneself had seemed both cowardly and grandiose. Now, at last, she could understand. It might be easier just to give up.

Suffocation, however, was supposed to be a horrible way to die.

It was her duty, too, to do whatever she could to further the mission, despite the enormous setbacks it had encountered. The primary objectives—a viable colony, a beachhead on a distant world—were obviously impossible to achieve, but she could observe and record and transmit her logs back to the home planet. Perhaps her data would be useful to future interstellar crews. Perhaps she could even figure out how they’d ended up so far from Earth in only four years—that at least was a puzzle for a physicist like herself.

Christine had never been the sort of person to neglect her duty.

With a sigh, she made her way to the antechamber near the exit bay and extricated her pressure suit from its locker. All of the crew had been trained in EVA procedures in case of emergencies. She wormed her way into the clumsy suit and fastened the collar around her neck, checking carefully that the seals were tight. Then she settled the transparent helmet into the collar and adjusted the microphone panel and earbuds.

“Download repair instructions,” she instructed the ship. A 3D virtual image of the Archimedes appeared, seeming to float just inside the helmet. She flicked her gaze to the right. The image rotated in response. Bright orange flashed on the surface of the hull, indicating the location of the rift. “Demonstrate repair sequence.” A tiny humanoid figure became visible next to the ship. She blinked twice and the image zoomed. She watched as the cartoon-like figure made its way to the glowing breach area.

“Recommended repair medium is nano-carbon foil,” the ship intoned. Christine checked that the tool pouch at her waist contained a roll of the super-strong material. “Fuse to the hull with hi-vo generator.” She pressed a button on her bulky sleeve and the paired electrodes poked out from her gloved palm, as expected. “Use two layers. Wait one hundred and eighty seconds between applications.”

The holographic display illustrated the procedure, which looked straightforward.  Christine reviewed the steps three times, until she was confident she could execute it smoothly. She closed her eyes for five seconds to dismiss the display.

Well, there’s no point in waiting, she told herself. When she punched the oversized airlock button the iris-like door dilated to allow her entry. Once she had stepped over the threshold, it contracted behind her. The evacuation process started automatically. A gauge on the wall showed the pressure steadily dropping as air was siphoned into the ship.

Christine fought her panic, resisting the urge to gulp down air. Inside the pressure helmet, she could breathe normally. It was just hard to remain calm when the indicator showed she was surrounded by near-vacuum.

Finally the air pressure level reached zero. Christine unfurled the tether cable from the airlock wall and clipped it to the hook at the back of her suit. Her hand was steady as she pushed the exit control. The airlock spiralled open. Christine stepped out into space, her magnetic boots anchoring her to the hull.

The lack of familiar objects induced a profound sense of disorientation. Up and down had no meaning. She focused on the pitted metal surface of the ship and pulled herself along the huge spacecraft, using the hand patches as she had been taught.

Archimedes was shaped a bit like a doughnut impaled on a cigar—a disk-like structure mounted on the end of a cylinder. The disk-shaped section, about thirty metres thick and two hundred in diameter, housed the crew quarters, the hydroponic tanks, the suspension bay and other facilities for the human occupants. It rotated, producing a weak gravitational field. The cylinder that served as its axis contained the nuclear-powered engines, the water and air recycling plants, the guidance systems and similar mechanisms, as well as a launch area for the escape shuttle. Both sections bristled with sensors, antennae and other protrusions. Archimedes was intended to travel through the frictionless reaches of space. It didn’t need a streamlined profile.

The airlock exit was located on the backward-facing surface of the disk. The breach to be fixed was on the forward surface. Christine clambered over the edge of the disk and on to the front, towards the location pinpointed by the repair simulation. The tether snaked behind her like a kilometre-long tail.

The tear in the hull was small but obvious. Traces of escaping gas had tarnished the normally silvery metal. Christine retrieved the foil and tore off one pre-perforated sheet. Clumsy in her bulky gloves, she smoothed the ultra-thin material over the rift, then extruded the high-voltage electrodes. Fierce sparks ripped through the blackness as she sealed the foil to the hull. After-images swam in her vision while she waited the necessary three minutes before applying the second layer.

The second stage of the process posed no problem either. The carbon sheets were fused to the hull, closing the gap and rescuing her precious oxygen. The repaired section was probably stronger than the original material.

Letting out the breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding, Christine allowed herself a moment of self-congratulation. She turned away from the ship to appreciate the emptiness around her. Her eyes had adapted. Now she could see the twinkle of distant stars, like gems studding the velvet blackness, the pale blurs that were galaxies. No one has ever travelled this far from home, she thought. Rather than fear, she felt a strange sense of exhilaration, akin to the excitement that gripped her when she resolved some knotty mathematical issue or confirmed the validity of a proof.

A memory from her childhood popped into her mind—sitting in the backyard with her grandma, peering into the glittering night sky. “I saw the first American go into space,” Nana had said. “Alan Shepard. I was in fourth grade. The whole school piled into the cafeteria to watch the launch on television. Black and white television,” she added with a laugh. “I was so excited I could hardly breathe. I decided that day that I wanted to be an astronaut. I had to see those wonders for myself.”

Of course, Nana hadn’t lived that dream. She’d become a teacher instead. Now, though, Christine was making that old fantasy real, floating free, embraced by the stars. It was amazing—awe-inspiring.

Then a delicate sadness crept over her. She’d never be able to share this feeling.

A red symbol flashed in the periphery of her vision, a routine warning that the suit oxygen supplies had reached seventy-five percent. That was enough for another four hours of EVA, but still, since her work was complete, she’d better get back inside.

She needed to reverse her orientation in order to climb back over the edge of the disk. Grasping a bracket with one hand, she gestured with the other to temporarily turn off the magnets in her boots. It was a gesture she’d practiced a hundred times during training, but something went wrong. She must have put too much force into the arm movement. The reaction tore her other hand from its grip and drove her body away from the ship.

The distance between her and the Archimedes grew wider by the second. Christine cursed her carelessness. She knew that one had to move slowly and deliberately at all times when performing EVA. Newton’s third law, that every action has an equal and opposite reaction, applied in space just as it did everywhere else. In space, though, there was no friction to slow objects down.

Christine was more annoyed than concerned. She knew she could pull herself back to the airlock using the tether. That’s what it was for. She reached behind her to grasp it, where it clipped to her belt. Only then did she feel fear. Her lifeline was gone.

She twisted to look behind her. The end of the tether dangled in space, metres away. How had it come undone? Had she failed to fasten it properly? She flailed about as she tried unsuccessfully to grab it.

Christine squeezed back the tears that threatened. They’d just float around inside the helmet, making it harder to see and breathe. She had to think. Her suit included mini-jets that could be used to propel her back towards the hull. However, she’d need to activate them at just the right angle and for just the right duration, or she’d fly past the ship and into space on the other side. The necessary vectors depended on her own speed and direction as well as on that of the ship. If she didn’t solve the problem, she’d soon be as dead as the rest of the crew. No one would ever know what had happened to any of them.

It was difficult to focus when she was terrified. She shut her eyes, trying to concentrate on the calculations.

All at once, she felt something behind her, despite the insulating layers of the pressure suit. Her eyes flew open. She jerked, trying to look backwards. The sudden motion altered her trajectory, sending her parallel to the ship’s motion.

What? She gunned her jets, working against the momentum.

Strong arms clasped her waist. “Do not worry, Christine.” The familiar voice came from behind her. She twisted around to see the silver-haired god from her dream. He offered her a glorious smile as he somehow propelled her in the direction of the ship.

“You’re safe now,” said the other voice. Christine knew before she turned that she’d find the stocky, bronze-skinned man at her side. He took her arm, swaddled as it was in the multi-layered pressure suit, as though to guide her progress.

It was only then that she realised that neither man wore any sort of protective garments. Their limbs were sheathed in some clinging, reflective material that showed every detail of their magnificent physiques. Their faces were unmasked. Their heads were bare. In the vacuum of space!

“How…? What’s going on?” she cried, assuming they could hear her despite her helmet. “Who are you? Why are you here?”

“We’re here for you, love,” the heavier man answered. “To take care of you.”

“In this case, to save you,” added Silver-Hair. Alyn. That was the name he’d used in her dream. Sure enough, they’d brought her back to the open airlock. Alyn pushed her in first, then followed. The burnished man—Zed was his name, right?—brought up the rear. He flipped the switch to close the outer hatch. Pressurisation commenced immediately.

As soon as levels reached something near normal, before the inner door activated, Christine tore off her helmet. “What’s going on?” she demanded. “You were out in space without suits, without helmets! How is that possible?”

The airlock spiralled open. Christine stumbled out, almost collapsing on to the bench that paralleled the wall. She didn’t resist as Alyn and Zed stripped off her pressure suit and stored it away. She just sat there, shaking her head, not believing her eyes.

“I thought I dreamed you,” she whispered. “Am I still dreaming? Am I dead?”

Alyn crouched at her feet and grinned up at her. “You definitely look alive to me.”

Zed seated himself beside her, his arm around her shoulders. He nuzzled at her neck, sending tiny shivers down her spine. “You’re certainly still warm…” He rested his palm over her pubis and brushed a finger through her cleft. “Wet, too…”

Languid desire threatened to overwhelm her once again. Christine pushed it away. Springing to her feet, she backed towards the opposite wall. “No! Don’t try to distract me! I need answers!”

“What you need is love,” murmured Alyn. He took a step in her direction, but Zed’s hand on his shoulder made him pause.

“I understand,” said the darker man, sounding serious for once. “You’re a woman of great intelligence. A scientist. You are bothered by the unexplained.”

“Damn right I am,” she replied. “So—explain yourselves!”

“What do you think?” Alyn’s voice was gentle. “Do you have any theories?”

Christine looked from one to the other. Each was perfect in his unique way. Alyn’s grace, Zed’s power—they were practically unearthly. How had they made their way to the ship, without a vehicle of their own? How had they survived outside, without suits or helmets?

They might be figments of her imagination, but their bodies felt as solid as her own. She could smell them, a paradoxical mix of spring flowers and autumn leaves. She knew if she ran her hand over Zed’s swelling muscles she’d feel the warmth of skin under his thin garment. She guessed that if she gave in to her desire and pressed her lips to Alyn’s ripe mouth she’d taste some intricate bouquet of flavours, far too complex to be imaginary.

Perhaps the whole ship was an illusion, along with all her memories and sensations. She knew that electro-stimulation research was making rapid progress back on Earth. But she didn’t think it had reached this level, where selective electrical impulses piped into the brain could create a complete, consistent, tangible world.

So what were the alternatives? Angels? Alyn and Zed certainly fit the bill physically, but if angels were this horny she was sure the stories people told about them would be very different.

Or aliens? Could Alyn and Zed be creatures from another world?

“That’s right,” said Zed, nodding as though she’d spoken aloud. “We knew you’d work it out.”

“But—but you look so human!”

Alyn came to her side and led her back to the bench. She sank down, too astounded to resist. Seating himself beside her, he stroked her hair with gentle fingers, then turned her face to his. She could feel his breath on her cheeks.

“We deliberately adopted these forms to make you feel more comfortable, sweet.” His lips captured hers. Christine moaned into his mouth, then feebly pushed him away.

“What do you really look like?” She searched their eyes. “Tentacles and bug-eyes?”

Zed took her other hand and brought it to his mouth. He kissed the palm, then ran his hot, wet tongue between her fingers. She squirmed, feeling as though he was licking the cleft of her sex instead. “Something like that,” he answered finally. “You shouldn’t worry about it, though.” Still holding her hand, he curled her fingers around the stiff rod of flesh jutting up between his thighs. Somehow his flimsy clothing had evaporated. His cock was a super-heated bar of steel. “We won’t hurt you, Christine, I promise.”

Christine remembered her ‘dream’, the glory of being stretched by two hard cocks simultaneously. She wondered why she was not embarrassed. When she squeezed Zed’s erection, he swelled further. Her pussy clenched in anticipation and moisture began to coat her thighs.

Alyn bent to suck her nipple through her T-shirt.  The rigid knot felt as though it was about to explode.

“Touch him too,” Zed instructed and Christine complied. Alyn’s cock was longer and thinner than Zed’s but at least as hard—and equally naked.

“What’s going on?” she murmured, as Zed claimed her mouth and Alyn slipped his eager fingers into her trousers. Her mind recoiled at the notion of having sex with non-humans. Her body, however, had no such qualms.

“We’re making love to you,” said Alyn, easing off her clothing.

“We’re fucking you,” added Zed, biting her nipple until she screamed. “That’s the most important reason that we’ve taken these human forms. So we can make you come.”

Chapter Four

Symbols danced before Christine’s eyes, rainbow-hued Greek and Latin characters, subscripts and superscripts. Schrödinger’s equation waltzed with Vernon’s reformulated field expressions. The de Broglie wave function shimmered in and out of focus as it transitioned through various eigenstates.

Feynman’s path integral slithered through her consciousness. Constants slotted in and out of matrices. Four-dimensional graphs appeared in graceful rotation, displaying successive three-dimensional views.

It was all so clear. The necessary transformations were obvious. The mathematical notations reassembled themselves into intricate patterns that Christine immediately grasped. The solution was surprising but beautifully simple.

Triumph filled her. She understood at last how to twist the universe and unlock the gates to other dimensions. Joy suffused her spirit like pure light. Humanity was saved, saved from its own stupid errors.

A touch woke her. The equations fled, along with her comprehension. She opened her eyes to find Zed bent over her, shaking her shoulder and looking concerned.

“Why didn’t you let me sleep? I saw it—the way to bend space and make faster-than-light travel possible. Now it’s gone.” She sat up, shaking her head, and glared at the stocky extraterrestrial.

“You were moaning and thrashing around on the bed. Almost like convulsions. We were worried.”

“In any case, you’ve been asleep for thirteen hours,” Alyn added. In two strides he crossed the floor of Christine’s tiny quarters and seated himself on the bunk beside her.

“Thirteen hours?” She searched her memory. The pictures it provided made her blush. Alyn’s platinum-crowned head buried between her damp thighs. Zed’s massive erection bobbing in her face. She recalled the salty taste of him, the silk of his skin sliding over her tongue, the metallic tang of his cum. She remembered writhing against Alyn’s mouth as he devoured her pussy. And there was more, much more—endless moments of shameful delight, pinned between them, Zed’s cock buried in her cunt while Alyn’s slender organ plundered her ass.

Christine remembered it all, far more clearly than her fast-evaporating dream of quantum inspiration. Her body remembered, too. Her quadriceps ached as though she’d done ten kilometres on the treadmill. Her inner thighs were tacky with her juices and pleasantly sore. When she shifted to support her back against the bulkhead, little twinges of pain recalled the outrageous sensation of being stretched and filled in both her orifices. Fresh moisture pooled in her cleft despite her determination to stay aloof.

“I guess you two wore me out.” She twisted out of Zed’s grasp, still bitter about losing the revelation from her dream.

“That’s part of it,” Alyn replied, trying to capture her hand. She snatched it away. “I suspect it is also a side-effect of your time in stasis. The stress from your mishap outside the ship may also have had an impact.”

“So how do you feel now?” asked Zed, stroking his half-erect penis. “We missed you, while you were sleeping.”

Christine tried to feel annoyed by the alien’s apparently insatiable interest in sex. He was so beautiful, so hard and hungry-looking, so male, that she lost the battle.

“Rested. Starved. And not for sex,” she added, noting Alyn’s cock was also swollen. “No more sex until I’ve eaten. And until you’ve given me some answers.”

* * * *

“Do you eat? Human food, I mean.” Christine looked up from the salad she was assembling from hydroponic lettuce and freeze-dried carrots and tomatoes. Alyn and Zed lounged around the table, observing her every move. The standard coveralls she’d insisted they don did little to hide their strength and grace, but at least she didn’t have to be distracted by their straining erections.

“We do not need food, but we can eat if we wish,” Alyn replied.

“Want some of this?” The notion of satisfying her hunger while they watched made her a bit uncomfortable.

“You should conserve your supplies,” said Zed.

“Why should I bother? What difference does it make, whether I die in two weeks or two months?” She planted herself in one of the chairs and took a defiant bite out of her soy-cheese sandwich, then speared a lettuce leaf and thrust it into her mouth.

“Do not speak that way. All life is precious. Yours is especially so, to us.” Alyn’s voice was musical and soothing.

“And why is that? Why are you here?” Christine folded her arms and leant on the table. “Who are you? If you’re from some other planet as you say, how did you get here? What happened to your ship? It’s time for you to tell me the truth. The whole story.”

Zed and Alyn exchanged glances. Alyn gave a barely perceptible nod. Zed placed both hands, palms down, upon the table and stared at them for a moment before commencing.

“Our home planet is located in what you call the Alpha Cygni system—nearly two thousand light years from your planet.” He looked up when Christine gasped.

“That far! So you must…you must have trans-lightspeed travel!”

Zed nodded. “Our race has known how to bend space time for centuries.”

Christine sprang from her chair, reached across the table and seized his wrists. “Oh, Zed! Please, you’ve got to explain it to me!” The brawny alien turned to his companion with a vaguely desperate expression on his handsome features.

“We are not physicists, Christine,” said Alyn. “But we will share what we can. Please allow us to tell our story in our own way, however.”

“I’m sorry.” She settled back into her seat. “It’s just that…never mind. Please, continue. So you came here from Alpha Cygni. What happened to your ship?”

“It, um, it was destroyed in a collision, as it emerged from hyperspace. Vaporised in an instant.”

“A collision?” Christine spoke slowly, already guessing what was to come.

“The probability of some other matter occupying the warp exit point is infinitesimal—but non-zero,” Alyn added. “We were extremely unlucky.”

“The breach. It was you. Your ship…”

“Yes,” whispered Zed. Once again he could not meet her eyes.

“You’re responsible…” Christine thought of the nineteen bodies entombed in the non-functional suspension capsules. She tried to summon her anger, but could muster only a deep sorrow. “The crew…”

“We are truly sorry, Christine.” Alyn’s face was grave. “It was, of course, an accident, but, yes, we are to blame for the deaths of your fellow travellers. Also for the fact that your ship is so far from its intended destination. The cataclysm ripped a hole in the space-time continuum and pushed you—all of us—through.”

“Oh, God!” Christine buried her face in her hands. How bitterly ironic—the crew of the poor, sub-light Archimedes wiped out by a warp ship!

A gentle hand stroked her tangled hair. “You understand now, why we are here? Why we must take care of you? Rescue you? Love you?” The pain was obvious in Zed’s voice.

“We will bear the burden of this tragedy forever, Christine.” Alyn’s wiry arm encircled her shoulders. He pressed his warm body against hers and she half-expected some sexual overture, but he just held her tight while sobs racked her chest and tears trickled down her cheeks. “We will all bear it together.”

For the first time since her awakening from suspension, Christine wept. She wept for Ravin and Amber and the rest of the brave souls who had sacrificed their lives for the sake of humanity. She wept for herself, lost, alone, a bitter failure, her last chance to redeem herself shattered by the blind randomness of the universe. She even wept for Alyn and Zed, sensing how terrible it must be to carry the weight of such guilt.

Christine cried until there were no more tears—until her eyes were on fire and her throat was like sandpaper. All the while, the two alien men cradled her in their arms, supporting her, soothing her without words.

Finally, she raised her head and pinned them with her red-rimmed eyes. “We’ve got to bury them.”

“Yes, you’re right,” Zed agreed.

“Come on.” She headed for the suspension bay, not waiting to see if they’d follow.

It was difficult work, wrestling the inert bodies of the crew out of the pods and into pressure suits—difficult both physically and emotionally. The three of them tackled the grim task as a silent, well-coordinated team. No words seemed to be required. Nineteen times they hoisted an unwieldy corpse and carried it through the corridors to the airlock. Nineteen times they watched as a suited figure was ejected from the Archimedes to spin helplessly in space. By the time the last of her former crewmates had been consigned to the vacuum, Christine was completely exhausted.

“I need to send a message to Earth,” she told Alyn and Zed, her voice flat with fatigue. She stumbled into her quarters and collapsed on her bunk. The two men followed her.

“You need to rest,” Zed replied. “You can barely walk.”

“I need to report their deaths.”

“Do it later,” said Alyn. “Now you should relax. Lie back and let us take care of you.” He unzipped her coveralls.

Christine giggled, suddenly light-headed, as his fingertips brushed her bare skin. She didn’t have the energy to protest. “I guess you’re right. Given that the message won’t arrive for forty years, a few hours’ delay won’t matter.”

“That’s our darling,” Zed murmured. She stretched out naked on the mattress, letting the tension drain from her limbs. For a moment he hovered above her, then he rolled into the space between her and the bulkhead. Aligning his nude body to hers (When had he stripped off his own clothes?), he captured her in his arms, careful not to push her off the narrow bunk. Once again she expected sex—his fingers tweaking her nipples or dabbling between her thighs—but despite the hard lump she felt prodding her hip, he made no move to seduce her.

The bed wouldn’t fit the three of them. Alyn dragged the plastifoam chair from the desk to the bed and sat down beside her, holding her hand. “Rest, lovely one. Let it all go. We’ll be here for you when you wake. Always.”

The last thing Christine noticed as she drifted off was that he, too, was naked and erect.

* * * *

She slept without dreams, cradled in sweet oblivion. Awareness returned gradually: scents of new-mown grass and fresh-baked bread reminding her of Earth; a rich voice humming an unfamiliar melody; warm flesh pressed against her bare skin. As she became conscious of her body and surroundings, the warmth grew, dancing along her arms and legs, hovering at her breasts and belly, diving into the moist gap between her thighs.

Christine opened her eyes. She lay in her bunk, on her back. Zed curled against her left side, his body wedged between her and the wall. Alyn had somehow managed to find enough space to stretch out along her right. He had extracted the safety harness from its hatch on the bulkhead, pulled it over their bodies and fastened it to the edge of the bed. The elastic web, intended to keep the occupant from floating off the mattress, effectively sealed the three of them into the narrow bunk.

Zed crooned some alien lullaby, close to her ear. Alyn feathered caresses over her skin, sparking pleasure everywhere he touched. Christine’s eyes met his. She caught her breath at the emotion she saw there. He might be some extraterrestrial monster, but he cared about her—in a way no one else ever had.

When he saw that she was awake, he raised himself on his elbow, bringing his lips to within millimetres of her own, but not making contact. His gaze drilled into her, asking a wordless question.

Christine tangled her fingers in his silver locks and pulled his mouth to hers. Yes, she answered silently. Yes! I want you. I need you. I forgive you. She thrust her bold tongue beyond his perfect white teeth, taking all that he offered, drinking in his sweetness and his passion. All the while his hands roamed over her body, teasing her taut nipples, circling her navel, playing in the humid forest of her pussy hair.

She broke the kiss at last in order to face Zed and offer him her lips in turn. Fire burned in his bottomless eyes, raw and seductive, kindling a sympathetic blaze. As Zed probed her mouth, Alyn’s clever fingers found her clit, sending her soaring into bliss.

The two men held her tight while her body shuddered in climax. Only when the echoes of pleasure died away did they begin again, stroking, kneading, suckling, playing her quickened body like some ethereal instrument. She opened herself completely to them, so hot, so human, wherever they came from. Again and again they eased her up to the pinnacle and cast her into the whirlwind of delight. She lost count of her orgasms, but each one was more intense than the last.

They didn’t speak. There was no need. When she struggled onto her side, clasped and constrained by the safety net, and fondled Alyn’s rampant cock, he understood. He adjusted his hips to align himself with her soaked pussy and slipped inside. It was simple, easy, as natural as breathing. His length curved up into her belly; his pubis pressed deliciously against her clit. For a long time, he didn’t thrust, but she could feel him pulse inside her, making his slender cock swell to seemingly impossible dimensions.

Behind her, Zed brushed her hair aside and nibbled the back of her neck. Shivers danced down her spine to lodge in her sex. He reached around to palm her breast, rolling the swollen bud of her nipple between his fingers. She arched back, nudging the slick bulb pressed against her buttocks. Zed responded as she’d hoped, parting her rear cheeks and wiggling a finger into her hole.

Her excitement climbed to a whole new level as Zed played there, pushing deeper, stretching her little by little. The fluids from her many orgasms had left her well-lubricated. The intrusions were pure pleasure. Meanwhile, Alyn started to rock his pelvis, sliding his hardness in and out, as deeply as he could, given the safety web.

Zed replaced his fingers with the head of his massive cock. Christine braced for the brief pain she had experienced when Alyn had entered her that way. Zed was thicker and nearly as long—he’d be more difficult to handle. She was shocked when his cock eased into her—shocked by the spike of pure pleasure. Despite the soreness she’d experienced after her first impaling, there was no pain at all.

It was outrageous, glorious, completely unbelievable. They lay there, flesh commingled, bound together and barely moving, while waves of sensation rose, crested and died away. The slightest shift in position triggered a new avalanche of pleasure.

Christine gasped and panted, clutching Alyn’s shoulders, clenching the hard flesh that filled her empty places. Zed clasped her hips, holding her, steady and safe, on the knife edge of climax. She could feel the way their two cocks rubbed together, separated only by a thin wall of muscle. She could sense their arousal building, despite their stillness.

Taking the lead from her lovers, she tried to relax. She willed herself not to strain towards release. Her breathing slowed and synchronised with theirs. Gratitude swelled in her chest as the pleasure grew steadily more intense. She felt blessed. Cherished. For the first time in her life, Christine did not feel alone. Love held the three of them there, suspended, truly joined. She let go and let the quiet passion bear her away.

The pleasure pulsed and glowed, scarlet, fuscia, violet and lavender swirling around her like the aurora borealis. Zed and Alyn sang to her, tenor and baritone entwining in harmonies almost too lovely to bear. She added her voice, reaching the high notes without effort. Blackness cradled her, velvety and warm, shot with brilliant streaks of teal and silver. It was the blackness of space, the emptiness of time. Somehow that did not frighten her. She knew the blackness was saturated with boundless love.

Her climax had no beginning. It just was, an outpouring of bliss that had always been and that would go on forever. Great chords of pleasure thundered through the universe, tearing her apart, remaking her. Zed and Alyn were there with her, their coming indistinguishable from her own, their voices rising in one pure note of perfection.

As the note died away and her body reclaimed her, Christine really understood, for the first time. Zed and Alyn were completely alien. There was nothing human about them at all.

Chapter Five

The universe spread out before Christine’s eyes, vanishing into distances even she could scarcely grasp, physicist though she was. Blinking plasma displays on the control panel provided the only light on the bridge. In the dimness, stars scattered across the hemispheric viewport glittered like chips of diamond. The Archimedes continued its blind progress towards a destination it would never reach, at a speed that would have taken it from Earth to the Sun in less than fifteen minutes. But the stars did not move.

It was difficult to believe those bright, cold points of light were really raging infernos—almost as difficult as believing her two lovers were not beautiful, virile men but something…other.

She sat in Sven’s chair, staring into the gem-studded blackness. Zed lounged in the co-pilot’s seat to her left. Alyn had taken the navigator’s place on her right. All three of them were naked. It had seemed ridiculous to put on clothing after the intimacy of their most recent coupling.

Christine had ordered an increase in the ambient temperature then switched off the computer’s cameras and voice. Belatedly, she realised she didn’t like the notion of their three-way lust being observed, even by a machine. She knew she was being silly, that ultimately it didn’t matter since no one would ever replay the recordings from the ship’s memory. She’d always been a private person, however. Somehow, the more deeply she and her companions connected during sex, the more uncomfortable she found the thought of surveillance.

She glanced over at Alyn. For once, he was not staring at her. He appeared riveted by the immensity of space stretched out before him, just as she had been. His long fingers clasped the arms of his seat. His androgynous features had a sombre cast, with his brows drawn together and his full lips pressed into a thin line. His flaccid penis lay draped between his legs, looking pale, smooth and vulnerable.

Zed was peering down at his hands, as though he was searching there for some revelation. When he felt the weight of her scrutiny, he favoured her with his typical mischievous grin, but his eyes were dark pools, without their usual sparkle. He too was flaccid. It appeared that their last encounter had finally sated their physical desire, at least for a while.

Love and sympathy warred with indignation in Christine’s heart. She hated dishonesty.

“You lied to me,” she said finally, her voice quiet and controlled. “There was no ship. You don’t need a ship to travel through space, do you?”

“Not a lie, sweet,” said Zed. “Just a simplification of the truth. We weren’t sure that you would understand, or believe…that you could imagine…”

“I’m a theoretical physicist. I’m trained to visualise the unimaginable. So tell me now who, or what you really are. The whole story. Do you really come from Alpha Cygni?”

“Yes,” Alyn replied. “That was our home. A long time ago.”

“How long?”

“Centuries. Millennia. Does it matter?” Zed picked up the thread. “Time doesn’t flow in the same way for us as it does for you.”

“Long enough for us to appreciate what we lost,” said Alyn. His violet eyes glistened. Was he holding back tears? Pity drowned out the last remnants of Christine’s anger. She stroked Alyn’s arm in comfort as Zed continued the narrative.

“Our planet was quite a bit like Earth. Carbon- and water-based life forms, photosynthesis, single and multi-cellular organisms… Our race was bipedal, not so different from humans really. Like humans, we were at the top of the food chain. And like you, we used our dominance over the other species on our planet unwisely. Our population grew. Our resources shrank. We thought that with our advanced technology we could solve any problem. We were wrong.

“Our planet began to die. The land became infertile. Water was scarce. Fumes from our mines and factories shut out the sun. The temperature dropped and our world froze. Most plant and animal species became extinct. We retreated into underground burrows and tried to tap the heat at the planet’s molten core. Instead we triggered huge earthquakes that buried most of our subterranean settlements.”

Zed’s fluid baritone cracked. He seemed unable to go on. Alyn reached across Christine’s body to squeeze Zed’s hand. Christine could hardly bear to look at the bronzed god’s pain-racked face.

The silver-haired alien resumed the tale where Zed had left off. “We realised our mistakes far too late. We had developed interstellar travel, but pushing matter through hyperspace requires vast amounts of energy. Our supplies of the mineral we used for fuel had dwindled. The quakes destroyed the few mines that remained. Our star ships offered no hope of escape. Finally, we had no choice but to slough off our material bodies and become pure energy ourselves.”

“What? What are you talking about?” Christine swivelled her seat around to face Alyn. But it was Zed who answered, after sliding off of his chair to sit cross-legged at her feet. He gazed up at her, gauging her reactions to the fantastic tale.

“Intelligent beings are an amalgam of matter and energy. Consciousness, spirit, soul, astral body—there are many terms—is the energic component. Normally that component is tightly bound to the material body. But it’s possible to set the spirit-energy free. Earth’s mystics have always known of this. Meditation, drugs, sex—there are various techniques for loosening the bonds that trap the astral self in the physical body.”

“Sex?” Christine’s pussy dampened as she recalled the strange, unending bliss of her last orgasm.

Alyn nodded. “Deep emotion, intense concentration, great pain or great pleasure all have the potential to temporarily release the energic self from its material bonds.”

“But those effects are only temporary,” added Zed. “In our case, we had to permanently leave our bodies behind. Our material selves perished with our poor, abused planet. Now we are bodies of light, free to travel the universe at will.”

There was a tinge of irony in his voice that Christine didn’t completely understand. “So, you can fold space?” she asked, not even trying to hide her eagerness. “You can move faster than light?”

“We are light. But yes, as your people have hypothesised, the venerable constant c is not the fixed limit it seems to be. And the equations that permit faster-than-light travel simplify dramatically when there is no matter involved.”

“Show me,” she demanded, starting to rise. “Teach me.”

Zed caught her hand and pulled her back down into her seat. “Patience, darling. You said you wanted the whole story. We’re not quite done.”

“Okay, okay. So all the inhabitants of your planet turned themselves into beings of pure energy and flew away?”

“There weren’t all that many of us remaining. And we couldn’t bear to leave, not at first. We watched from space as our planet tore itself apart. Our meddling at the core had started a chain reaction. In a matter of a few months, our home was transformed into a vast belt of rubble orbiting our star.”

“It was terrible,” whispered Alyn.

“After that—well, the death of the planet killed something in our spirits, too.” Zed released a deep sigh, as though it was difficult for him to go on. “Shame and grief ripped us apart as thoroughly as our world. We all dispersed in different directions, fleeing to the far ends of the universe. Now each of us wanders the reaches of space, eternally alone, haunted by the loss of our home. Free, yes. Alive, in a sense. But broken.”

“But you and Alyn…”

“A stroke of blind luck that we found each other.” Zed leant back to smile up at his lithe companion. “Somehow our mutual loneliness drew us together. He has done much to heal my spirit. We’ve been travelling together since.”

“Then we emerged from hyperspace at the same coordinates as your ship.” Alyn shook his head. “It is surprising that your vessel survived at all. The gravitational forces resulting from that energy/matter co-location should have done much more damage. Nevertheless, we managed to kill your crewmates.”

“But we found you. We probed your mind while you were in suspension. We learned your history. We sensed how lost and alone you were, so much like us.” Zed rose to his feet in one fluid motion and pulled Christine into his arms. “We came to love you. Now we understand why, even together, Alyn and I felt incomplete.” His strength surrounded her. His resurgent cock prodded her belly. She wanted nothing more than to melt into his embrace, but she forced herself to resist the temptation.

“Wait—please! What about these bodies? They’re obviously not made of light.” She reached between them to squeeze Zed’s hefty erection, making him moan. “This cock is definitely real. And if you’re creatures of spirit, why are you always so horny?”

Alyn circled behind her and clasped her waist. He licked her earlobe, sending a jolt of electricity straight to her sex. “Energy and matter are inter-convertible. You know that. We fashioned these bodies out of our intrinsic energy so that we could communicate with you—and touch you—without frightening you.” He slid his hands up her ribcage to her breasts. Her nipples tightened, aching for stimulation. Alyn rocked them back and forth with the pads of his thumbs, like tiny joysticks. “Once we created them, we remembered the joys of physical intimacy. You reminded us…”

Meanwhile, Zed’s big hands were on her hips. He sank to his knees in front of her and dipped his tongue into her moist cleft. The ocean smell of her pussy filled her nostrils.

Christine was on the verge of surrender, but curiosity still gnawed at her. “If you can materialise yourselves this way,” she said, gasping as Zed grazed her clit, “why wander? Why not settle on some new planet, in new bodies? Why not people a new world?”

Zed ceased his ministrations and gazed up at her, his face shiny with her juices. “You don’t understand, sweet. As wonderful as it is to sink ourselves into you, to tease you and to make you come, these bodies limit us. Human eyes sense only a narrow slice of the electromagnetic spectrum. Human ears are tuned to only the grossest vibrations. We are used to full awareness, total sensation. Living in these bodies, for us, is like you wearing that bulky pressure suit. Every stimulus is muted by layers of matter.”

“Even sex in these bodies is limiting,” Alyn added. “If we could make love to you without the encumbrance of these flesh and blood shells—oh, you have no idea of the ecstasy we could experience together!”

“Maybe I do have some idea.” Christine turned to face him. “The last time we were together, I felt something—different. It’s hard to bring it back, now, but it felt as though we were floating in space. I wasn’t really aware of my pussy, my clit, my breasts, yet everything felt incredibly good. It was like I was inside my orgasm. But I wasn’t alone—I knew you were there, both of you. I could touch you, somehow, even though I had no hands. I could feel you, around me, inside me… That’s when I understood that you were something far beyond human…”

She broke off, noticing that Alyn was staring at her in amazement.

“I knew something special had happened but I didn’t realise…” Zed murmured behind her.

“You slipped free!” Alyn spoke slowly, his voice full of wonder. “Oh, Christine!” He released her and sank back into his chair.

Christine looked from one of her lovers to the other. “If I did it once… Zed, Alyn—you left your bodies behind eons ago. Can you teach me how?”

Zed’s face darkened. “There’s some danger, sweet. If you leave your corporeal form, setting your astral self loose, there’s always a chance that you won’t be able to return.”

She offered them her hands. Alyn and Zed took firm hold. Their eyes, amethyst and jet, sparkled with excitement. She kissed one, then the other, long and deep.

“To be with you—truly with you—that’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

Chapter Six

Christine lay on the table in the mess hall, feeling silly. Zed had piled mattresses from several of the cabins on the hard surface, then arranged her on top of the heap like a sacrificial lamb on an altar.

“Are you comfortable?” he asked.

“I’m great. But what difference does it make? I thought the goal was for me to leave this body behind.”

“We want you to relax completely—to stop thinking about your body. Last time it was extreme pleasure that pulled you out, but this time we want to try another method. Meditation is more predictable and easier to control.”

“Are you ready?” asked Alyn, peering into her face.

“As much as I’ll ever be,” she answered, resolutely ignoring her twinge of fear. So what if she couldn’t return to her body. This body didn’t have much of a future anyway.

Zed clambered on to the table and straddled her torso just below her breasts. His cock, rigid once again, nestled in the valley between them. She licked her lips at the sight. Moisture trickled out from her sex, dampening the mattress.

“This not exactly the way to get me to forget about my body,” she laughed. “Every time I look at your cock, my pussy gets wetter and my clit gets harder.”

“Sorry!” Zed joined her laughter. “You have that effect on me. But let me see what I can do.” He closed his eyes, turning inward. His form seemed to shimmer. The effect was gone so quickly that Christine wondered if she had imagined it. In any case, his penis deflated until it flopped, limp and innocent, across her ribcage. “Is that better?”

“Better? Well, it’s certainly less distracting!”

“Alyn, turn off the lights.” The room grew dim. The control panel in the kitchen area provided the only illumination. Zed’s face hovering above her was wreathed in shadow.

He cupped his hands in front of his chest, about six inches apart, as though he were holding a ball the size of a grapefruit. “Relax. Take deep, slow breaths,” he told her. “Focus on the space between my palms.”

Christine struggled to let go of the arousal that was raising her pulse rate and making her pant. She closed her eyes for a moment to centre herself, then followed Zed’s instructions. Initially she saw nothing but Zed’s burnished muscles through the gap between his hands. Before long, though, she noticed that the empty space was occupied by a faint glow. The light brightened gradually and congealed into three luminous strands that twined together, rotating at a stately pace in an ascending spiral. The filaments were born near his wrists, coiled upward and disappeared at his fingertips, in a smooth, endless flow.

“Concentrate on the light,” Zed murmured. “Follow the light.”

The slow-moving helix fascinated her. Her eyes traced its path as it emerged out of nowhere, rose and vanished. At first the streaks of brightness appeared pure white, but as she focused she noticed tiny flecks of colour: amethyst in one, gold in another, ruby in the third. Like jewel dust the motes danced in the beams until they reached the upper limit and winked out of existence.

She could feel Alyn’s presence, off to her left, and could sense his concern. She knew Zed was watching her with those piercing jet eyes. Willing herself not to look at them, she trained her full attention on the hypnotic pillar of light. She dove into it, circling endlessly upward, spiralling into non-existence at the apex then regenerating at the base.

Christine forgot the two men. There was only the light, swirling, pulsing, drawing her ever deeper. The light rippled through her like pure water. The strands curled around her like laughter. Golden flames licked at her flesh without burning. Fingers of brightness soothed and teased her, kindling shimmers of delight.

“Christine!” Her name was a bolt of radiance, arrowing through the glow. “We are here with you.” It was true—their auras mingled with hers. Sparkling ribbons of silver and copper wreathed her presence, a crimson crystal beating in the velvet darkness. She knew them—Zed and Alyn, her attentive, untiring lovers—but now she saw how their gorgeous man-shapes were mere shells. Their full glory would have blinded her, if she had eyes. In her present state, unfettered by the limitations of her poor human senses, she saw them as they truly were: perfect, ageless, unutterably beautiful.

“I did it,” she said, or thought, or sang. Pride twined purple through the rainbow emotions that swirled around them. “Now I understand.” In their shared universe of flickering luminescence, she reached out to draw them closer.

“Lover,” came a bell-like song she recognised as Alyn. “Now we can truly be together.” His caress woke fireworks. Without a body, she felt the pleasure everywhere. It was searing heat, aching fullness, marvellous tension, buoyant joy.

“Darling.” Zed was a rich chord arcing through her, a rain of sparks that made her tingle and glow. He brought wetness, tightness, electric twinges that burned through her. The sensations recalled physical responses despite her disembodiment, except for their overwhelming intensity. She swelled and throbbed with need, wanting her lovers closer, inside her somehow, though she didn’t know how this could be possible. Before she could voice her desire, she felt their energy encircle and penetrate hers. Multi-hued pleasure exploded in her consciousness.

“Touch us,” Alyn sang, winding through her, drilling into her core.

“Open us,” Zed hummed, flowering incandescent at her centre. “Your mind is limitless.”

She reached into the luminous emptiness and allowed her thoughts to mesh with theirs. Now she thrilled with their sensations and emotions as well as her own. The connection should have been shocking, but somehow it felt completely natural. Alyn’s shy hunger and Zed’s raw lust seasoned her own arousal. The pleasure that shivered through them as she danced in their minds rocked her senses as well. Delight reflected back and forth. Each of them mirrored and amplified the others’ ecstasy.

Below these present-focused elements, Christine caught echoes of the aliens’ age-old pain and loneliness. She gathered Alyn and Zed into her self, singing liquid songs of comfort. Love wove its way into their shared tapestry of feeling, gleaming pure white among the lustrous strands of scarlet, emerald, turquoise and amber.

Peace, someone sang. Power, rang another voice. Pleasure, called a third. Their perfect harmony swelled. They twined together, spiralling upward, so intimately joined that none could say where one of them ended and the next began.

Christine sensed the shift this time. The universe burst open, drenching them in the brilliance of a million suns. Unutterable joy surged through her—and Zed, and Alyn. Their climax was hers as well. Their coming released energy. Hers absorbed it. She felt the exquisite pleasure of their emptying along with the deep satisfaction of being filled. That incandescent instant burned away the last traces of separateness and fused the three of them into one being—a bodiless embodiment of pure light.

They floated in a nurturing void. Sorrow, pain, doubt, all had been stripped away. All that remained was love.

* * * *

Stars. Christine returned to individual awareness to find herself surrounded by a million points of light. Were they in fact really stars? Instead of the mostly colourless sparks she was used to, these bodies blazed red, violet, orange, even blue, against the black backdrop. What else could they be, though? One of them seemed quite close, a glowing yellow ball off to her right. When she focused her attention on it, she could see planets orbiting the star, at least half a dozen of them.

Where was she? And where were her lovers? In the aftermath of their shared bliss, she felt little anxiety. All would be well. She trusted that she’d find them.

She returned her consideration to the nearest sun. Somehow it exerted a powerful attraction. All at once she was there, a mote of consciousness hovering within the solar system itself. She pushed aside the question of mechanism. She’d figure it out later.

One of the planets swung close enough for her to catch glimpses of the surface through intermittent clouds. The familiar shapes of the continents tugged at her memory for a moment before the truth hit her. Earth. She was hanging in space, a being of pure mind, looking at her home planet. Meanwhile, her body lay abandoned in a tiny space ship billions of miles away.

She had done it, without intending to. She had twisted space and travelled faster than light, just as Zed and Alyn had described. But how? And how was she going to get back to them, and to her body?

She turned her gaze inwards, away from the vision of Earth. Intuition as well as training told her there were other dimensions. She probed and tested the fabric of space time, finding whorls and wrinkles. Which ones were passages to other parts of the universe, though? Was it possible to create the necessary conduits as needed?

Christine brought up images of the equations she knew so intimately, the ones with which she had struggled for so many years with so little success. Immediately she saw transpositions and reductions she’d never noticed before. Perhaps material bodies blunted the intelligence as well as the senses. What was it Zed had told her? Take matter out of the equation and everything became simple.

She flicked mentally at the symbols, tumbling them into a new arrangement. Amazement flooded her, followed by triumph. There it was—crystal clear and astonishingly easy, at least if you happened to be a being of energy.

Imagine where you wanted to go, and you’d be there. That’s what the equations told her. Hard to believe and yet so sensible. Energy organised and animated matter. Consciousness added the ability to materialise objects—that was the secret behind Zed’s and Alyn’s physical bodies. An act of deliberate imagination was an act of creation, for pure intelligence. There was no movement, actually. Mathematically speaking, you were disassembling and reassembling the universe around you.

Some part of her must have been thinking about Earth during that transcendent instant of union with Alyn and Zed. Without fully intending it, she had arrived at the threshold of her old home. To return to her body, she needed to summon a clear image of the Archimedes, and of her lovers.

Alyn. Zed. Her coupling with them as an energy being had been incredible, but she still craved their physical bodies. She remembered Alyn’s silky skin, his dancer’s build, his pale, smooth cock like a pillar of ivory. She added Zed to her mental picture, stocky and powerful, black curls tumbling over his brow, black eyes challenging her, bronzed erection jutting from his groin like some massive tree branch. Arousal clearly was more than physical. The more details she added, the more excited she became. Finally she pictured her vacant form, lying on the mess hall table, awaiting her return.

There was no sensation of motion. She simply found herself on the Archimedes, hovering near the ceiling of the dining chamber and gazing down at her own body. She’s pretty, Christine thought. She has lovely chestnut hair.

Then an irresistible force claimed her, sucking her downward. She slammed into her material body and blacked out.

Chapter Seven

A siren rang in Christine’s ears. She tried to ignore it. She was so tired—she just wanted to sleep a bit longer. The persistent whine refused to go away. With a sigh, she forced her eyes open.

The alarm wailed in the long-short-short pattern that meant emergency. The mess hall was mostly dark, but a red beacon flashed in the corner. Christine sniffed the air. It smelt stale and she thought she detected a hint of smoke.

She swung herself off of the table, noting that every muscle ached. The room was empty. Where were Alyn and Zed?

“Report ship’s status,” she called, loud enough to be heard above the alarm. There was no answer. Then she remembered. She’d switched off the computer’s voice functions.

She clambered up to the bridge. There was no sign of her lovers. The viewport was still open, offering an unchanging view of star-strewn space. Heedless of her nakedness, Christine punched in the code to reactivate the ship’s communication capabilities.

“Report ship’s status,” she demanded, her voice shrill with anxiety.

“Serious hull breach in section B-7,” the computer replied, calm and mechanical as always. “Bulkheads have been sealed to slow atmospheric loss.”

“Oh shit,” Christine muttered.

“Electrical fire in port engine now extinguished. Engine shut down to avoid radiation leakage. Major fracture detected in tail structure…”

“What? What happened? Did something hit us?”

“No collision detected.” The ship paused for a second or two, as if to allow her to interrupt again. “Estimate that tail section will separate in one to three hours. Additional fractures detected in sections C-2, C-5 and D-4. Recommend immediate evacuation.”

Christine sank into the pilot’s seat, overwhelmed. Evacuation? To where? The ship had an escape shuttle, but it was intended for use in the vicinity of a planet, not in deep space.

What was she going to do? And what had happened to Alyn and Zed?

As if summoned by her desperate thoughts, the aliens appeared on the control deck, Alyn to the left of her, Zed to the right. She rushed into Alyn’s embrace. He stroked her hair, holding her tight. After a moment of self-indulgent surrender, she pushed him away.

“What’s going on? Where were you?” she demanded.

“Checking the damage from the outside,” said Zed.

“But why…? Did something happen while—while we were making love?”

Alyn shook his head, his face grave. “No—not then…” He seemed too upset to continue.

“Then when? Please, tell me!”

“Our best guess is that this is a delayed effect,” Zed answered, stumbling over his words. “The stresses of the initial collision—when we emerged at the same space-time coordinates as your ship and then your ship was whisked through hyperspace—as I said before, I was surprised there had been so little damage…”

He looked thoroughly unhappy. Sympathy and concern drowned Christine’s anger. She took him in her arms, planting soft kisses on his lips and brow. “Oh, Zed! You couldn’t help it.”

Alyn came up behind her, pressing his lean form into her back and sandwiching her between them. “We are responsible nevertheless,” he murmured. Christine noticed that, for once, he was not erect.

“Oh, my darlings…” She clung to them, feeling safe even though she knew, intellectually, that her life was ticking away. The warmth of their skin against hers, the firmness of their muscles, their earthy scent—it was sweet, regardless of what came after. She would have been glad to have them take her, there on the floor of the bridge. She wanted to spend her last hours joined with the men she loved.

It was clear, though, that sex was the last thing on their minds. Finally, she released them. They sat in a triangle, gazing at each other in silence.

A thud shook the bridge. “What was that?” Christine cried.

“Microwave antenna three has separated from the ship,” the computer intoned. Sure enough, they could see a hunk of debris tumbling off into space to the left of the ship. “New breach in hull at section F-2. Bulkhead sealed.”

Alyn rose from his seat. “We don’t have long, Christine. We’ve got to decide what to do.”

“Do? What can we do?” Christine scanned their grim faces. “Do you have a plan?”

“We see two possibilities.” Zed took her hands in his. “It’s up to you.”

“Really? There’s hope? What are you thinking?”

“We could put you in the shuttle and send you back to Earth,” said Alyn.

“But—the range of the shuttle…”

“We’d send you through hyperspace.”

“How? You told me that transporting matter at faster-than-light speeds requires vast amounts of energy. We don’t have any kind of fuel that can generate that kind of power.”

“We are creatures of energy, sweet,” Zed said. “We’ll be the ‘fuel’.”

Christine was silent, contemplating this. “You’d be consumed,” she said finally. “You’d cease to exist.”

Alyn nodded, a sad smile lighting his face. “That is true. But you would live. To us, that is more important, especially when it is we who are to blame for the destruction of your ship and the death of your friends.”

“No. I won’t allow it. I don’t want to live if you two die.” She grabbed their hands. “I never believed I’d find someone—someone to complete me the way you do. I never dreamed of meeting one soulmate, let alone two! The thought of losing that, losing you…no! Definitely not. What is the other possibility?”

“Well,” said Zed. “You could abandon your physical body, the way we did ours. Join us in our travels through the universe. Become pure light, as we are.”

“Abandon my body?” Christine remembered the intensity of her experience as an energy being, but the details were fuzzy, veiled by the limitations of flesh. She recalled her moment of insight, when she’d solved the space-time equations, but not the solution itself.

She had been willing to risk the separation in order to connect with Alyn and Zed on a higher level, but that had been temporary. She had expected to return to the physical plane. Now they were suggesting she make the separation permanent.

She cast her eyes down over her body—neat breasts tipped with taut pink nipples, flat stomach and lean thighs, the triangle of chestnut curls at the apex. Her body had served her well. Was she ready to let it go? Would she still be Christine Clarkson, without this body? If not, who would she be?

This body was doomed, though. Even if the ship were not tearing itself apart, how long would she live, out here in space? Indeed, even if she’d never left Earth, this body would not have lasted more than a century at best.

They were offering virtual immortality. Even more important, they were offering her love. How could she possibly hesitate?

“Yes,” she told them, gazing into their eyes and hoping she sounded brave. “That’s the only solution. But how…?”

“Lie back in the chair. Let us pleasure you. We’ll give you an orgasm so intense you’ll fly free, the way you did before. Once your spirit separates from your flesh, we’ll whisk you away from the ship.”

A sound of tortured metal reached their ears. “Rear robot arm…” the computer began.

“I don’t want to know,” Christine snapped, stabbing at the switch. The mechanical voice fell silent. “Let’s do it,” she urged. “Now!”

She settled into Sven’s seat, arranging herself as comfortably as possible. With a grin, Zed flipped a lever until the back reclined. He leaned over to brush his lips over hers. His dusky cock reared up from the thicket at his groin, ready to fuck her so hard he’d drive her soul from her body. The sight—and the thought—made her instantly wet.

It was Alyn who began, though, kneeling between her splayed thighs and tonguing her throbbing clit. He poured his energy into her. Pure electricity arced through her flesh. She groaned and arched up, grinding her pussy against his face. In response, Alyn grasped her hips and burrowed deeper. He probed and sucked until she shuddered and burst, coming in great spasms.

The world flickered as pleasure poured through her. Something tugged at her insides, like a trapped animal trying to break free. But matter held her fast. Alyn continued to lick her as the trembling faded, and she started to climb again.

Meanwhile, Zed bent over her prone form, plunging his tongue into her mouth while teasing her nipples into aching peaks. She was on fire even before he transferred his mouth to her breasts. His teeth closed on the swollen nubs at the same instant Alyn nipped at her rigid clit. Pain morphed into unbearable delight.

Alyn brushed a fingertip across her anus. The knot in her belly coiled tighter. He wriggled inside. The lewd intrusion triggered a wave of bliss. Everything unravelled, whipping her into a glorious new crisis.

Light cradled her, but only for an instant. Her body was fighting back, unwilling to release her. She moaned in frustration.

A drop of liquid touched her lips. “Open,” Zed murmured, his magnificent cock inches from her face. She pursed her lips around the bulb, licking off the fluid that gathered there, then yielded to his pressure and swallowed the rigid stalk of flesh. He tasted of salt, sweat and dried cum. He tasted human. His thrusts were firm but measured, giving her time to appreciate the velvet texture of his cock-skin and the inexorable hardness underneath.

She fondled Zed’s balls while he ploughed her mouth. Meanwhile, Alyn was busy below her waist. With uncharacteristic force, he hauled her to the edge of the seat and pressed her thighs back towards her shoulders. He held her there for long moments, open and exposed. She felt the tension build. Juices trickled from her cleft down to her tingling rear hole. The round knob of Alyn’s cock rubbed against her sphincter and she braced herself for penetration. At the last minute, though, he seemed to change his mind. Pulling back, he sank his cock deep into her soaked pussy.

Ah! She moaned around Zed’s cock. He took that as a signal to pump harder. Christine didn’t mind. She sucked with all her might, wanting to taste his cum, aware in some corner of her mind that this might be her last chance to do so.

Alyn drove into her in a strong, even rhythm. His cock danced inside her, waking every nerve. Christine clenched her muscles around his hardness. He swelled in response. Pleasure rippled through her as she was filled and emptied, above and below. She had come twice already but that didn’t seem to matter. Her body was hungry for more.

Every thrust pushed Christine closer to the edge. She couldn’t reach it, though. She wanted it too much—not just the pleasure but the freedom they’d promised her. What if she couldn’t do it, couldn’t break loose the way she had before? She didn’t care about dying, not much anyway. The thought of losing them, though, was a pain she could scarcely bear.

“Don’t worry, Christine.” Zed’s golden voice sliced through her anxious fog. “Relax, sweet. We love you. We’re not going to let you go.” He hadn’t actually spoken, but she’d heard him loud and clear.

“We are with you. All will be well.” Alyn’s silver tones sang in her mind, calming, soothing, even as he grunted between her legs. “We belong together, Christine.”

She let the tension flow out of her body. I love you, she broadcast, her mouth full of cock-flesh. I trust you. Take me where I need to go.

Their bodies answered. Both men quickened their pace. Her hands gripped Zed’s thighs as he drove his cock down her throat. When his muscles tensed, her spirit soared. Come, my love, she telegraphed. Please come.

He shuddered. His rod jerked against her tongue, then he exploded, flooding her with his bitter fluid. She swallowed hungrily, eager for every drop.

Zed was still spurting when Alyn yelled and buried himself to the hilt in her pussy. She felt the pulse in his cock as he emptied himself into her depths. Yes, she exulted, her mouth still busy with her other lover. Yes, my darling.

Joy swelled in her chest until she thought she’d burst. She didn’t care what happened next. They were together now. Zed and Alyn had given her everything they had. Nothing else mattered.

All at once, without warning, she was tumbling into climax herself. Pleasure welled up from deep within, in shimmering waves that crested and broke and crested again. Rainbow veils danced before her eyes. Her body was liquid, molten, surging with each new eruption of bliss. The world dissolved, leaving her spinning in a whirlwind of ecstasy.

Through it all, she felt Zed and Alyn holding her close, keeping her safe. She might have been terrified by the intensity, but as sensation racked her, she knew she was not alone.

Silence. Stillness. Peace. Blackness surrounded and cradled her. She was not afraid.

Zed sang to her, flashing copper and gold through the dark. She laughed. Alyn wound around her, through her, a strand of glittering crystal. The three of them circled each other, spiralling higher, in an endless dance of love.

* * * *

Christine hung in space. Alyn and Zed were with her, as they would always be from now on. Below them, the Archimedes disintegrated in graceful slow motion. A crack opened along the top. Gases swirled out, freezing into icy clouds on contact with the frigid vacuum. A hunk of debris fell away, spinning lazily into the void.

“Let’s not watch anymore,” Christine said. “You’ve already seen one world destroyed.”

“Where should we go?” Zed asked. “Back to Earth?”

“No, there’s nothing left there for us. But I know another planet, in the Sirius B system. We could settle there for a while.”

“You want a new body.” Alyn laughed in her mind. “You miss being material.”

“Perhaps a bit. But, mostly, I want us to have children. We can’t do that as bodies of light. I want to people a new world and teach our children how to care for it.”

“We can’t unmake the past.” Christine caught the sombre note in Zed’s thoughts.

“Of course not. But we can create any number of brilliant futures.”

She summoned the images from her memory to show them. “The planet is here.”

They slipped into a crack between dimensions. Joined.

About the Author

I became addicted to words at an early age. I began reading when I was four. I wrote my first story at five years old and my first poem at seven. Since then, I’ve written plays, tutorials, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and of course, erotica and erotic romance. I’m the author of six erotic novels and three short story collections, as well as dozens of shorter works. I also edited the ground breaking anthology SACRED EXCHANGE, which explores the spiritual aspects of BDSM relationships, and the massive collection CREAM: THE BEST OF THE EROTIC READERS AND WRITERS ASSOCIATION. I am responsible for editing the charity erotica series COMING TOGETHER PRESENTS. I also review books and films for the Erotica Readers and Writers Association and Erotica Revealed, and feature as a Celebrity Author at Custom Erotica Source.

My lifelong interests in sex and the written word became serendipitously entwined about a decade ago when I read my first Black Lace book by Portia da Costa. Her work inspired me to take my fantasies out of the closet (and the private email files) and expose them to the world. The rest, as they say, is history (although granted, no more than a minor footnote!)

I’ve always loved travelling; my husband seduced me in a Burmese restaurant by telling me tales of his foreign adventures. Since then I have visited every continent except Australia, although I still have a long travel wish list. Currently I live with him and our two exceptional felines in Southeast Asia, where I pursue an alternative career that is completely unrelated to my creative writing.

Email: lisabet@lisabetsarai.com

Lisabet loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.total-e-bound.com.

Also by Lisabet Sarai

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Master Me: The Understudy

Gaymes: Crossed Hearts

Christmas Spirits: Tomorrow’s Gifts

Brits in Time: Shortest Night

Brit Party: Monsoon Fever

Bound Brits: Getaway Girl

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