Archive-name: Fantasy/mindstar.03
Archive-author: Jeff Buser - (C) 1990
Archive-title: Those Of A Mindstar Born - 3
The console buzzed. Wendy answered; it was Sarah.
"I hope you're not still angry".
"It doesn't matter".
"I think I really made a mistake by telling you that I had planned what
happened. I mean, the thought had come up, but when I was there what I did
was completely spontaneous. It wouldn't have been any more misleading to say
that I hadn't planned it, actually, so if . . ."
"Look, I really don't care," Wendy lied. "Just tell me about the
organization".
"It doesn't have a name. We plan and implement strategies to assist the
'jacs in their current struggle for survival. We're meeting tonight at 1900.
Here's the address".
Sarah flashed the addess across and Wendy hit the save bar.
"OK. I'll be there. But please, just don't try to come across all chummy to
me in front of your friends or I won't be sticking around".
"Whatever you want".
Wendy started to say something and stopped. "All right," she said ,
"thanks".
She broke the connection and brought the address back up on the screen. It
was in another residential section of the compound, near the seedship
monument. She noticed that she had saved the whole screen and not just the
address, so she separated the text and filed it. Then, before clearing the
screen she ran a hardcopy of the remaining image. She tore off the output,
wondering as she did so why she had. Sarah's smiling face stared from the
paper. She pulled off the edges and put the paper with her other pictures.
At 1830 Wendy threw her document pack and other stuff in a shoulderbag and
left her rooms. She had decided to walk rather than take the transit,
something she had once done more often than not, but recently had stopped.
The evening air was warm but she felt slightly chilled, not necessarily cold,
but unprotected. The morning's enthusiasm had worn off and had been replaced
by a growing, malignant melancholy. Maybe tonight there would be others with
the same feelings, others with ideas.
As she approached the central compound, Wendy began feeling a little more
secure. Soon she was within the oldest, sealed part of the complex, walking
through tunnels bright with artificial light. The glow of the residential
dome to which she was going shone on Wendy through the skylights above as she
approached. Many transits whistled by, but she saw few pedestrians. She had
expected the meeting to take place in a public conference room or activity
center, but when she reached the level specified in the address all she saw
were living quarters. This was one of the oldest domes in the compound, and
seemed in relation to her new place in the outskirts very spartan and dull.
She pressed the announcer, noticing it was an quaint old style mechanical
contact switch, and was buzzed in.
The room was abuzz with conversation. The host (at least Wendy assumed she
was the host) introduced herself as Carli Silver and offered Wendy a drink;
Wendy took an unflavored water. Carli was a particularly attrctive woman;
her face had bold features which she chose not to accentuate with any
cosmetic aid; in fact, she wore no face or bodypaint at all. She had deep
set blue eyes, pale as ice with long black lashes, nose straight and thin as
a laser, full red lips with just a trace of pouting, downturned corners, and
a chin and jawline so gracefully curved that Wendy thought they must surely
have been computer generated. Her thick blonde hair was cropped close to the
skull in a spacer cut, somethng not ordinarily considered too fashionable;
on Carli it was the coup de grace that marked her as one of the compound's
truly beautiful residents.
There were some brief introductions but the walk had taken longer than Wendy
had anticipated and the meeting started only a few minutes after she arrived.
There were about a dozen people in the room, only a few of whom Wendy
recognized. Sarah was there, and beside her was Vera Ellefson, another
co-worker from BTech. Vera was from Control Systems, Wendy's own department;
she and Wendy knew a lot of the same people professionally and socially. The
only other person whose face was known to Wendy was Maria Dio, a local
representative of the information service. Maria was also a highly
attractive woman, but her appearance was that of Everywoman; she was the
true generic standard by which all who were really interested in keeping up
with the latest fashion would be judged. Her long, brown hair was curled in
just the right places, pulled at just the right angles. Her face had an
uncanny symmetry; perfectly spaced eyes balanced a perfectly formed mouth and
her perfect nose turned up at just the right angle. She used just the right
amounts and shades of subtle, natural facepaint and bodypaint which a casual
observer might not even have noticed she was wearing to direct one's
attention to the right spots, and was so poised and graceful that there
seemed to be no wrong spots. Wendy thought she looked amazingly close to her
on-screen appearance.
When the meeting began, Carli began by welcoming everyone and presenting
Wendy officially to the group and then turned the meeting over to Sarah. She
came to the first order of business immediately.
"As always, our first priority is to locate others who may be interested in
our goals. If anyone has thought of an acquaintance who has ever expressed
as much as a little dicontentment over the present state of affairs, please
mark it in the register".
Wendy noticed that everyone had produced a datapad. Carli, was apparently
taking minutes, as her fingers were flying over her pad keyboard-style. Wendy
wondered why they didn't just use one pad and set it for A/V record. They
talked about some prospects, and about recent experiences and observations
that were relevant to the discussion. Finally, Sarah dropped her bombshell;
she and Kate Jons, the exobiologist, had procured a specimen of an affected
ejaculoid and had smuggled it into the central compound. They were going to
try to save it. She asked Wendy to assist. Wendy felt a little
uncomfortable, being new and yet chosen out of all these other members, but
everyone looked as if they had expected her to be asked, so she consented.
Kate was a pretty girl with an intellegent face; it was always difficult to
tell, but Wendy knew she couldn't possibly be more than thirty years old.
She was very thin, with small breasts and narrow hips; the bright red sash
she wore at her waist offset this somewhat, but Wendy thought that it was
probably worn because Kate liked the nonconformist image it lent her and not
because it made her look fuller. Kate explained some of her theories,
obviously uncomfortable in front of the group. She keyed on what was known
about the ejaculoid life cycle and how the Prophylactans, by absorbing the
discharge of the 'jacs were interrupting not only the reproductive cycle but
probably the food chain as well. Soon following this, the meeting broke up,
and after some perfunctory 'good nights' four of them were alone in the main
room.
Wendy followed Carli, Sarah and Kate to the 'examination room', really just a
spare bedroom with some space cleared and a few pieces of equipment. There
in an electronic cage sat a 'jac, covered by a Prophylactan. The 'jac lay
motionless, about half the size of a human. It's neck was long and about the
thickness of a human wrist, ending in a rounded head. The body was an almost
perfect sphere and at the front where the neck connected to the body were two
swollen convex projections like breasts. The prophylactan covered very
nearly the whole body; it constricted at the neck to fit the 'jac like a
glove. The only opening was a slight gap where the Prophylacatan's perimeter
had drawn up after covering the 'jac.
Kate seemed now to be in her element. She switched off the cage barrier and directed the others in the removal procedure with a speed and grace which amazed Wendy; she was able to communicate her instructions with such clarity and efficiency that within twenty minutes the Prophylactan was stuggling madly in their hands. It was fortunate that the 'jac had not been discharging at all recently; only the crisp dryness of the Prophylactan's skin allowed the four of them to hold onto it at all. Kate stomped a switch to open another small cage and they threw the creature in, fluttering and thrashing. Kate touched a pad on the control panel and the invisible barrier snapped on, signalling it's activation with a warning buzz.
They turned immediately to the 'jac. It lay still, motionless on the table.
Kate administered a moisturizer to it's cracked, dry skin. She examined it,
but could not get it to respond. She looked to Wendy, questioning. "The
sacs seem to be full, but there's no discharge at all. It must be a
defensive reaction to the Prophylactans; trying to starve the invaders
without starving themselves. It looks like it's not working . . ."
Wendy moistened her hands in a basin of water and carefully stroked the skin,
feeling the damage done by the invader; the flesh was soft and limp. She
pressed her face against it's body, nuzzling her nose between the sacs and
licking tenderly. The head moved a little, straining to reach her loving
face.
Wendy took the ejaculoid's whole head into her mouth. It was all she could
do to get it in to the rim, but when her lips slipped over that edge and
brushed the the 'jac's neck, she felt it quiver and begin to stiffen. She
splashed her hands in the water again and ran her hands up and down it's
neck; it responded by growing firmer as she touched it. She gently stroked
down to the base of it's neck, massaging it's body and holding the two
rounded organs lightly cupped in her hands. When she softly squeezed them in
her palms, the 'jac went fully hard; she felt a surge of movement beneath
it's skin which rippled up through the neck, pulsed through the head, and
erupted down her throat as the thickest, hardest, longest wad of discharge
she had ever felt from a 'jac this size. She swallowed madly, but it was no
use. The juice sprayed from the tiny gaps between her lips and the 'jac's
head at high pressure, spattering large droplets on the 'jac's body and on
the watching group members.
As the wave subsided, Wendy allowed the 'jac's head to slip from her drenched
lips. The juice was thicker than she had ever seen it, almost like putty; a
strand from the wad still running down her throat extended out of her open
mouth to the 'jac's discharge orifice, tenaciously hanging in midair, silvery
droplets running along it's length to the center point. She pulled the
strand to one side with her tounge, shaking it; some of the running droplets
dislodged and began rappelling from the thickest line of jism to the floor on
little streaming trails of their own. Wendy closed her lips and pulled her
head back and the line finally broke. One end of the strand now was hanging
from the 'jac's head; the other swung backwards and contacted Wendy's
breast, sticking and forming a shiny little buttress from her nipple to her
chin. Carli looked hungrily at the residue on Wendy's body.
"May I?" she asked.
"Sure."
Carli moved over to Wendy and began licking the jism from her face. Her
tounge circled the perimeter of Wendy's mouth and then dipped between her
lips, scooping the sticky fluid from between her teeth and gums. She moved
her mouth down over Wendy's chin, lapping up the remaining gobs dangling
there and then followed the slimy trail down to Wendy's breasts. She cleaned
all around the area and finally sucked the last traces from Wendy's hardened
nipple. This last was a little more difficult due to the corrugated contours
of that surface and Carli lingered there, tasting the last few minute
portions of juice flowing into her mouth.
"Thanks. I needed that," Carli smiled.
"My pleasure," Wendy grinned back. With some relish, Wendy noticed that
Sarah was conspicuously ingnoring the whole exchange. A little guilt,
perhaps? Or, more likely now that she thought about it, Wendy figured that
Sarah really was totally absorbed in assisting Kate with the 'jac. A born
leader. She and Carli set about cleaning up, though Sarah and Kate did most
of the real work. When everything was secure, they went back to the main
room.
"So now," Sarah began, "we obviously can't let this guy back outside; it'd
just be attacked again as soon as it got outside the seals".
"I say we wait until the next meeting and put it before the group," Carli
stated.
Kate disagreed. "No, they'd probably want the Prophylactan destroyed, and I
want to examine it further".
"Why bother examining it?," Wendy asked. "They've captured specimens before
without results".
"If they had tried everything, they might have had results. There has to be
something they missed," Kate answered, "or something they never thought of".
"Alright," Sarah decided, "you keep the Prophylactan and we'll decide next
time about the 'jac. Do you have facilities"?
"Already set up".
"Good. Carli, can the 'jac stay here"?
"It seemed to respond better to Wendy; don't you think she should take care
of it"?
"Too dangerous. It's too big to move inconspicuously, and if anybody found
out we had native life inside the seals we'd be history".
"Then maybe Wendy should stay here," Carli said, turning to face Wendy, "if
that's OK with you".
"That might be a good idea, especially if it's ok to have the next meeting
here as well", Sarah added.
"Well," Wendy began "I don't . . ."
"You'll be closer to work, and it won't be long. Maybe two days," Sarah
explained. Being chummy she wasn't; this was stricly professional.
"Good. Then it's settled. We'll meet here the day after tomorrow at 1900.
See you then".
Sarah and Kate left together, talking excitedly in hushed tones about their
success and their chances for further actions. Wendy excused herself to
return to her rooms and get together a few things for the stay. She caught a
transit back to the outskirts. As the transit slowed for her stop she lifted
her head from where it had been resting, propped up on her elbow. She was
smiling.
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