From: elf@halcyon.com (Elf Sternberg)
Newsgroups: alt.sex,alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.furry
Subject: Journal Entry 112 / 0741  [ Decanting Difficulties ]
Date: 15 Apr 1996 14:08:43 GMT
Organization: Pendor, UnLtd.
Lines: 783
Message-ID: <4ktl9b$50@news.halcyon.com>
NNTP-Posting-Host: coho.halcyon.com

Noren, Lothess 15, 0741

    When things don't go right, I get cranky.  Sounds to me like a 
perfectly normal, human reaction.  "How long will she stay down?"

    Derek checked a few displays.  "Hal?  I estimate four hours?"

    "I agree," the AI responded.  "Although with this new cross- 
genetic design implementation such estimates are hard to confirm 
completely, four hours seems a reasonable estimate."

    "And the rest of the report?" I asked, testily.

    "Ah," Derek replied, looking at his PADD.  "She's clean of the 
amniotics in her lungs.  Upper GI tract seems to be most clogged, 
followed by the lower.  I vote let natural process take care of 
her.  Most of it will filter out through her kidneys eventually.  
It is reasonably digestible."

    I nodded.  "Okay, then."  I rubbed my face with my hands, 
feeling four-day-old stubble slide along my palms.  "You would say 
that Vulpins one and two are okay."

    "I would."

    I smiled.  "Things are looking up.  I scheduled three through 
ten to be decanted the day after tomorrow, providing one and two 
seem viable when they come to."  I looked across the room where 
number two lay, sleeping peacefully.  "At least he didn't seem to 
be in any distress when we pulled him out."

    "No.  I can't figure out why her respiratory activation gave 
her so much trouble."  Derek's brow knit together in puzzlement as 
he examined her readouts.  "I suggest we check the other eight 
right now, starting with number six.  He had some developmental 
trouble in the postfetal stage."

    "What kind?"

    "Lung trouble."

    "Oh, Hell," I sighed.  "Same as hers?"

    "Could be worse.  Let's go check now."

    I nodded.  "Lead the way, Doctor Placton."  

              -               -              -

    Two hours later Derek and I were sitting in the Pindam 
cafeteria, the only two people on this airless ball of rock other 
than the Tleil Century of Sapienter Vulpes scheduled to come out of 
their tanks during the course of the next two weeks.  We each had a 
glass of kfi in our hands and were slowly drinking them down when 
the alarm klaxon went off.

    "Ken!  Derek!"

    "Hal?"

    "Medical, stat.  You've got an emergency I can't control."

    I was in a dead run for the medlab, charging down the halls 
unmindful of the one-sixth gravity or the fact that there were 
several closed doors.  "She's up and moving, and I don't think 
she's fully sentient yet.  You two are much closer than any drone I 
could get to her."

    I could hear Derek's feet behind me as we approached Med Lab.  
"You've got trouble, Ken, she's just swallowed something I can't 
identify.  It came from the bathroom, I haven't got a camera 
there."

    "Cleaning supplies?"

    "I don't know."

    "Great," I said, reaching out and grabbing one of the many 
recessed handholds situated along the corridor, this one by the 
door to Medical.  I felt the tendons in my shoulder object, ignored 
them, released the handhold as I came to a stop and palmed the 
doorlock.

    The door opened and I looked inside.  There was a loud, yowling 
screech as something, the Vulpin, struck me at the side.  I reacted 
with equal violence, tempering it with the knowledge that she 
wasn't responsible for 
    her actions.  Hair-trigger martial arts can be funny that way.  
I felt pain along my left side, ignored it as blocked with the 
left, responded with my right in a vicious grab that she dodged.

    She took two blurringly fast steps backwards and then leapt at 
me.  I prepared to dodge when a high-pitched whine reached my ears 
from behind me.  The leap turned into a painfully slow fall as she 
slumped unconscious in midair; In the one-fifth gravity she would 
hit her head on  the far wall.  I jumped between her and the wall 
and took the brunt of her velocity between her shoulders and my 
arms.  "Ooof!"

    "What happened?" Derek asked as I tried to clear my head from 
the impact between the body and the wall.

    "She woke up without us, I guess."  I looked down and heard a 
strange gurguling noise coming from her throat.  "Go into the 
bathroom and find out what she was going through in there!" I 
ordered immediately, picking her up and dropping her on the 
platform she'd originally been lying on.  "Derek!  She's having 
trouble breathing again!"

    "It's worse than that," he said, running out of the bathroom.  
"She did get into the cleaning supplies.  I think she drank some 
sodium hydroxide.  I found it spilled over."

    "Ohmifah," I said, ignoring the self-reference and grabbing 
hardware.  "Derek, get me some amniotics, now.  If we flood her 
system we can dilute."

    He nodded and ran to get the equipment.  She started 
convulsing, and I started praying.

              -               -              -

    Thirty hours later, I blinked into the darkened space of 
Medical.  Although Hal was a sufficient watcher, both Derek and I 
had agreed to take up positions on either side of her bed, so we'd 
moved her platform into slot number three and I'd taken two, he'd 
taken four.

    The male half of the first two Tleils was also sleeping soundly 
according to the readout I could see, but he wasn't in the room 
anymore.  Hal had assured me he'd alert me when he woke up even 
though he was in P'nyssa and Loash's hands now.  They were over in 
the secondary Medical center, which had more privatized spaces and 
access to better interactive materials.

    I'm not sure what had woken me up.  A sound, maybe, or a smell.  
I don't usually come to full alertness like I had tonight, so I 
tried to figure out exactly what had alerted me.

    Then I heard a noise come from her bed.  A shifting sound, like 
she was moving again.  It wasn't convulsions, or Hal would have 
awoken me.  Fitful sleep?  Or was she coming around?

    We had been lucky; she hadn't drunk all that much bleach and we 
had gotten to her early.  Between immediate medical attention and 
the new generation of blood-borne biomechanicals, she had healed 
almost completely before we'd even gone to sleep.  

    And then I heard a whimper.  A painful sound.  I got out of bed 
slowly and walked over to where she lay on her side, tossing.  I 
examined her in the almost dark of Medical; the only lights came 
from displays over her bed or scattered about the room.  She was 
beautiful in ways I hadn't anticipated.  I'd almost built the 
Vulpin out of capitulation to a series of articles asking, out of 
all the species I could have worked with, why I hadn't worked with 
"man's best friend," namely, the dog?

    Because dogs are nearly impossible to work with.  Out of all 
the species that I find attractive, dogs are very far down on my 
list and genetically, dogs are a mess.  I've even used some 
relevant parts of their code in my own species, but on their own 
dogs are a disaster.  So much pressure has been put on them to 
rearrange their shape, from breeds weighing under two kilos to 
breeds weighing over a hundred, that the idea of actually trying to 
fit that mold to a sentient race drove me buggy.  I refused to go 
along.

    But after examining foxes, I decided that there was at least on 
family of canid I could work with.  I may also end up examining the 
Lupus, or wolf family, some day.  But the Vulpins appeared to be 
easy to work with as a genepool, so I decided to try them instead.

    I ran into trouble when I decided to change my usual method of 
engineering and instead attempted to build a unified new form of 
life incorporating self-installing nanotech bridging across given 
generations.  As it is, earlier species have to have their nanotech 
scavengers tuned externally and then installed after birth.

    I reached down and stroked the side of her cheek with the back 
of my hand, feeling the soft downy fur and following the curve 
where her snout joined skull, smiling at my artwork and hoping, 
like I always did, 
that this species didn't hate me for what I'd done.  So far, none 
had.

    I felt her move again, and I felt something come down on my 
hand.  Her paw.  I smiled down at her and whispered, "Hi.  What's 
your name?"

    Her eyes opened, blinking and staring up at me.  She was still 
holding my hand to the side of her face.  "Hi," I repeated.  "Can 
you tell me your name?"

    "Rrrrr...." she growled, releasing my hand and shaking her 
head.  "Tarsha."

    "Repeat it?" I asked.

    "Tasha," she said, dropping the 'r' I had heard the first time.

    "Again."

    "Tasha," she sighed, sagging back against the cushion she lay 
on.  "What is... where... what... "

    "Easy," I said softly.  "Calm down.  Do you remember anything 
before now?"

    "As what?"

    "Tasha... do you have any memories before right now?"

    She stared up at me, her eyes concentrated.  "No... wait... 
yes.  I remember being confused, and feeling bad, and you-- I 
fought you."  She started to scoot away from me.  "Are you a... an 
enemy?"

    "Tasha, do you have any enemies?" I asked.

    She thought for a moment.  "No.  But why was I fighting you?"

    "Because you were confused and sick.  You tried to get some 
water and drank bleach instead."

    "Bleach.  That's sodium hydroxide, a caustic agent."

    "Yes."

    "I can understand why I was sick then.  Who are you?"

    I sighed quietly.  "My name is Kennet Shardik.  Please, call me 
Ken.  I'm your... father."

    She reached up and touched my face with one hand, caressing her 
own face with the other.  "I though families all were the same 
species."

    "Not with me," I said softly.  "When I have children, I make 
them in the shapes I choose."

    "So you... made me, instead of giving birth the way I thought 
it was done."  I nodded.  "Why?"

    "Why what?  Why make you?  Because I want children.  Because 
the more genetic types there are, the more disease-resistant you 
are as a whole.  And because your shape, your species' beauty is 
something wonderful that the world was less without."

    "How old am I?"

    "About a day," I smiled.  "Your... brother is being handled by 
my coimelin, Dr. Traken."

    "I have a brother?"

    "Yes, sort of.  Tleils are made in pairs, one male, one female.  
Although this isn't necessary or efficient-- a species that is 
female top-heavy would be better off-- I tend to have some set 
ideas that, so far, have worked out pretty well.  He's the male 
first Vulpin."

    She nodded, but I didn't feel her understanding yet.  "Tasha," 
I said softly.  "You're in a state known as incorporation shock.  
You're spending your first day alive, and you don't know how to 
handle it.  Can you understand that?"

    She tilted her head slightly to the left, confused.  "I think 
so."

    "Just think so?"

    "I think I understand what you're telling me, if you're telling 
me the truth."

    "You have no reason to doubt me.  But that's about as good an 
answer as I could have hoped for, under the circumstances."  I 
heard a shuffling over past both of us.  She turned around to look.  
"Tasha, meet Derek.  He helped me with you."

    "Hi," he said gently, reaching down to touch her hand.  "I'm 
glad you're all right.  You had us worried there for a while."

    She held his hand.  "I'm glad you were worried for me.  You are 
Derek.  Does this mean you're my father too, since you were here?"

    Derek smiled over at me, then down at her.  She was starting to 
look less confrontational and more like a lost little girl.  "No," 
he said gently.  "Because he's my father."

    I smiled over at the Felinzi across the table from me.  "No, I 
was father to your great great grandfather.  I'm not taking 
responsibility for you, you rakeheart."

    He smiled and reached out with his free hand to beep my nose.  
"Oh, come on.  You take responsibility for everything, Ken, whether 
you say you will or not."

    "Yeah," I said, smiling down at Tasha.  "So, are you ready to 
stand.  Hal?  Is she ready to meet her brother?"

    "Her brother has chosen the name Theodore.  And yes, he is 
quite anxious to meet his sister."

    "Who was that?" Tasha asked.

    "The AI.  Check your memories."

    "An AI is an artificial life form capable of emotion, feeling 
and intuition, and is to be given the full accord and respect 
worthy of a fellow sentient," she repeated dutifully from her 
memory.

    "Pretty much," I replied, smiling.  "Ready?"

    "I think so," she replied, still bewildered.  "There so much 
you want me to try and take in at once."

    "That's just because it's all new to you.  Once you've been 
around for a while, you start to fit into your surroundings, and 
they stop demanding so much attention of you.  You'll figure it 
out.  Come on," I said, reaching a hand out and lowering the 
protective bars on my side of  the bed.  She nodded and I slowly 
eased her down from the bed to her feet.

    "I can stand," she said.

    "Yes you can," I replied, smiling.  "Did you think you 
couldn't?"

    "I didn't know until now," she replied unsteadily.  "I guessed 
that I could, but I didn't know."

    "Well, what do you think?"

    "It feels pretty strange," she admitted, smiling widely.

    "You have a very beautiful smile," I told her softly.  "Come, 
let's go meet your brother."  Derek and I led her down the hallway 
to Theo's room.  About halfway there she figured out skipping.  At 
the end of the hallway she learned, painfully, about stopping.

              -               -              -

    The wind whipped through her fur, ruffling it and making it fly 
across her body in strangely beautiful patterns that attracted my 
eye like little else that day had.  She stared across the great 
plain that receded aspin from Marbletop range with eyes that spoke 
of great strength and long trial.  I wandered up behind her and 
hugged her tightly.  "It's done for you, Tasha.  The others will 
take over now."

    She reached up and placed her hand on mine, like she had the 
day she had first awakened.  "It was a long year, Father."

    "I know, Tasha, but you did well.  You did better than I could 
have asked of anyone."

    She sighed gently.  "Only a hundred of us to start out with, 
and I had to be responsible for them all."

    "Only ten.  You were supposed to reach one, then ten.  The ten 
were supposed to reach the hundred."

    "But somehow they all kept coming back and asking me, Ken.  
There were just so many questions, as if I had any more answers 
than they did."

    "You did your best, Tasha, and you held it all together.  I was 
impressed.  You did wonderfully."  I slid my hands down her 
shoulders and around her waist, holding her against me.  She no 
longer fought me as she had once, a year ago.

    She patted my hands as I laced fingers about her waist.  "Do 
you think I'm still in IS?" she asked, turning to look at me.

    "I'm not sure.  It's not something I can really, objectively 
determine.  I wish I could, but it's something I just feel.  I 
think in some ways you are, but for the most part you've got it 
together."

    She smiled.  "Can we go somewhere, Ken.  Just you and I?"

    "Like where?"

    "North Point.  I like it there."

    I blinked, considering.  There were only two people who I 
thought even know of North Point-- me, and Oenone.  Actually, I'm 
sure there are many many "North Points" scattered around Pendor, 
one for every local map and town.  But for us, Shardik Castle, 
North Point is just one place.  One of the two edges of MarbleTop 
ridge.  "Sure, we can go," I said finally.  "How do you want to 
go?"

    "We can SDisk to Suvrahvain and fly from there.  It shouldn't 
take more than an hour."

    "Okay," I said.  "Do you want to pack up the supplies, since 
this appears to be a day-long outing?"

    She smiled and nodded.  "Can I meet you at the hanger in twenty 
minutes?"

    I glanced at my watch and nodded.  "Of course."

              -               -              -

    Marbletop gets its name because that's exactly what it is.  
Imagine, if you can, a mountain range rising up from sea level, and 
then slicing it cleanly off at around 30 meters, disposing of all 
that rock, and polishing the exposed surface until it was nearly 
reflecting, and you'll have Marbletop.  At it's narrowest Marbletop 
ridge is six kilometers wide, at it's widest it's about thirty.  It 
runs nearly 25,000 kilometers along the Vinyare coastline.  Shardik 
Castle is nearer  to the southern edge than the northern.

    The northern tip is called, of course, North Point.  It's an 
apex point that curls slightly outwards into the water, a spit of 
rock with no beach around it.  The ocean isn't that far away... 30 
meters, to be exact.  It still seems like a long fall.

    "So what are we doing here?" I asked her dubiously as I put my 
helmet into the seat of my Solo IV flitter.

    "I wanted to take you somewhere where we could be alone.  To 
talk with you, ask you questions."

    I looked over her very round, reddish-gold eyes and smiled.  
"What's for lunch?"

    "Egg salad sandwiches.  I hope you don't mind."

    "Mind?" I asked.  "I love the things."  She laughed as I spread 
out the blanket and handed me one.  "So what are your questions?"

    She finished chewing a mouthful of sandwich before answering.  
"Actually, I have just one question."  She rose and walked over to 
a spot about fifteen meters from where we had set down.  "What does 
this mean?"

    "What does what mean?"

    "This writing.  I asked Dave about it and he said he was 
unaware it was even here."

    I stood up and walked over to see something I hadn't seen in 
centuries.  I smiled as I knelt to trace the letters with my hands.  
"You don't read Anglic, do you?"

    "No," she said, sighing.  "I've barely learned how to speak it.  
It's a very complicated language.  What does it say?"

    I traced the letters carved into the Marbletop again, 
remembering Oenone say them.

        With no reference point there is no date
        To tell you exactly when I stand
        Upon this bleak and barren stone by sea
        And order life to commence in this land.

              -               -              -

    I looked over my shoulder to smile at her, and she stared down 
at me.  "It's one thing to terraform a planet and then drop the 
right kind of bacteria everywhere.  You program them with the right 
genetics and everything should work out fine.  It's quite another 
to have someone who can program the ebb and flow of the very sea 
itself to ensure that those bacteria have the best of everything 
they need to grow up into good little mammals like you and me."

    She nodded as I stood up, taking another bite from the sandwich 
I held in my left hand.  I took her hand and led her back to the 
blanket, sitting down.  "How long have those words been there?" she 
asked.

    "Millions of years," I replied.  "You forget I had a time 
machine once."

    "No I didn't.  Why aren't they worn away by the weather?  North 
Point has a very poor history for weather."

    "Because Oenone said they won't."  I smiled and shrugged.  "Ask 
her."

    "Nobody's heard from her in ages."

    "I know.  The rumors are flying.  I saved her life once, but 
that was probably enough, even for her.  Someday soon I'll sail 
over to her home and see if she's still around."

    "How soon?"

    "A few months," I smiled, looking over at her.  "Tasha, can I 
ask you a question now?"

    "Of course," she replied.

    "Of all the fems that I know, you are the most quiet, the most 
reserved, the most... private.  You never raise your voice above 
the gentlest of volumes.  You handle everyone who comes to you 
fairly and maturely, but I've never seen you really have a strong 
relationship with anyone.  Why?"

    She ate quietly for a moment.  "I don't know," she answered.  
"I just haven't had the kind of time I'd need to dedicate to a 
relationship."

    "What kind of time?  They just happen, really."

    "For you, they do.  But I'm not so sure that could happen for 
me.  I'd want to spend a long time with someone, to learn about 
them.  To study them, almost."

    "You've spent a lot of time studying me," I replied.  "What 
kind of conclusions have you drawn about me?"

    "That you're fair and obstinate.  That to prove to you that 
you're wrong takes the facts and to ten decimal places.  Once 
you've been proven wrong, you take the countering argument to heart 
like a zealot.  You're a lousy chess player, a loving parent, and a 
good bedmate."

    "Wait a second.  What makes 'a good bedmate?'" I asked, 
suddenly curious as to who could be talking about me that way.

    "I don't know," she replied fairly.  "I do know that most of 
the females I've spoken with who have spent the night in bed with 
you told me the experience was a positive one and that they'd like 
to repeat it."

    "Did you ask them about me, or about that in specific?"

    She smiled and glanced around.  "Females talk about these 
things in specific, Ken."

    I laughed.  "Actually, I think it's the subject that causes the 
directness of the conversation."

    "How so?"

    "I think when we're talking about men, both sexes get very 
specific.  I feel comfortable talking about exactly what my male 
lovers do in bed, but my female partners... I just like to say 
they're worthwhile."

    She nodded.  "There is a difference in the sexes."

    "Of course there is.  As much as there are certain differences 
between different species.  The catch being we're all sentient, so 
we all choose the courses of action we take.  I don't excuse 
anyone, of any species, for being violent just because he's more 
capable as an individual of violence than any other species."

    She nodded.  "We don't have interspecies violence.  Why do you 
think that is?"

    I shrugged.  "People's needs are met here.  People are taught 
to respect each other.  Besides, there's always someplace to go to.  
We don't crowd each other."

    "Father?" she asked softly, reaching a slim hand to rest on my 
arm.  "Do you love me?"

    "Tash... Of course I love you."

    "You've never told me that before," she sighed, turning slowly 
to lay back and place her head in my lap.  She curled on her side 
on the blanket.

    I ran my hand gently along the curve of her jaw, touching her.  
She murred softly, shifting a little.  "I should say it more, 
then," I replied.  "You're very beautiful."

    "Does that make you want to love me?" she asked softly.  "I 
haven't figured that part out yet."

    I laughed as I stroked her fur.  "Have you figured out what 
beauty is, first?"

    "No," she admitted.  "I used to think there were definitions, 
but beauty appears to be different from person to person.  In the 
eye of the beholder, I believe the phrase is."

    "That's about it," I said.  "To my eyes, you are very 
beautiful."

    She murred softly.  "You made me, Father, so of course you'd 
think I'm beautiful."

    "I don't know about that," I said, leaning over and kissing her 
cheek lightly.  "Some artists hate their work.  Some artists create 
beautiful work that they love at first and come to hate later."

    She turned to look up at me, raising her head to kiss me back.  
"You wouldn't do that to me, would you?"

    "Never," I whispered.  She reached up and held my face in her 
hands, holding me in place while we kissed, warmly, upon that 
picnic blanket and that cold place by the sea.

    I ran my fingers along her chest, feeling her fur slide under 
my fingertips, my fingertips coming to rest at her nipples.  She 
pushed up, rolling me over, rolling on top of me, her muzzle 
running down my neck until she was poking her muzzle down my shirt.  
"Don't tear the buttons," I laughed softly, ruffling the fur on top 
of her head.

    "Why shouldn't I?" she asked, looking up to smile at me.

    "Because I like this shirt."

    "Good enough reason," she announced, slowly undoing each button 
as she worked her way down, humming to herself canine fashion.  She 
pulled the tails out of my kilt and tossed it open, straddling my 
hips to run her hands over my chest.  "Skin is so fascinating," she 
said.

    "You and Aaden.  Always saying that."

    "It is!" she insisted.  "There's something so interesting about 
smooth, hairless skin.  The way fingers slide over it, the way lips 
can touch it.  Why do you like fur so much?"

    "Good question, and the answer is 'I don't know.'  I just enjoy 
the feeling of it, the silky quality of it."

    "Even of the heavier mustelakin?" she asked.

    "Even then.  They're fascinating, to use your word, in their 
own way."  I reached up to slowly stroke the fur along her thighs 
and up her hips.  "I love you, Tasha."

    She smiled then and leaned over.  "I love you, too, Father."  
She parted her muzzle just enough to lick my cheek, then sat back 
up.  She giggled slightly, and a quick survey of my extremities 
revealed what had been so funny; she'd sat down over my hips to 
find something poking her in the rear.

    "Sorry."

    "Don't apologize, father, for a very natural reaction to a very 
natural situation."

    I laughed.  "What's natural about this?"

    "Everything," she replied, bending over to run her soft tongue 
over one of my nipples.  That familiar almost-choking sensation ran 
through my throat, a curious phenomenon I'd actually had mapped 
once, but had decided not to remove.  I closed my eyes instead, 
laced my fingers behind my head and let out a long, soft sigh.  She 
nipped at my nipple softly, and the sudden sensation made my back 
arch.  "Careful," I said, smiling.

    The wind had brought clouds overhead, and a sudden roar brought 
thunder, and with it lightning, to our attention.  "We should go," 
I said.

    "No," she said, holding me down.  "Please, Father... make love 
to me in the rain."

    "Are you crazy?" I said.  "Tasha, we're the highest thing for 
miles around.  We've also got a better chance of attracting 
lightning than the stone around us.  We could get killed out here!"

    "That's part of the excitement, Ken!"  She was pulling at the 
cord holding my kilt shut.

    "You really want to make love like this?" I shouted as the 
winds began to pick up faster and harder.  Her fur ruffled where it 
was exposed, flying about almost completely without control.  Just 
then the rain began falling.

    "Yes!" she laughed, almost maniacally, as she tore my kilt off 
and left my boots on.  A strange combination, but her fervor was 
infectious and when she bent over to kiss me I kissed her back, the 
heat and light of her passion reverberating through me.

    I was losing control fast, my hands swirling over the 
loose-fitting  sweater she wore, tearing at the clasp that held her 
skirt on.  The weather was hot today, and the rain, with the 
lightning, was becoming hotter.  The sweater came free; only weight 
of water from the burgeoning  downpour kept it from flying away 
from the hillside and down to the sea.  Her skirt was gone just as 
quickly.

    Her muzzle pressed against my mouth, now that we were both 
virtually naked.  Her tongue pressed against my lips, and my tongue 
attacked hers in kind.  We rolled over on the blanket, the rain 
coming down in sheets.  A white slice of lightning crackled seaward 
to my right as she pressed herself to me, grinding her crotch 
against mine.

    I snarled and reached up, pulling her down on top of me and 
rolling her over; a split-second of thought made me slide my hand 
under her head as we rolled onto the slick stone surface of 
Marbletop, her furry back pressed against the polished surface.  I 
slid my erection into her without pause, feeling her matted fur and 
slickened body under me as we began to fuck each other with 
abandon.  Her claws raked along my sides, not quite tearing skin, 
and I looked down into her face to find her panting along with me, 
squinting rain from her eyes.

    "Enough!" she shouted, throwing her wait to turn me over onto 
my back.  She was on top, grinding her hips against my pubic bone.  
I grabbed her hands; she used my hands for support as stroked 
herself up and down along my shaft forcefully, never letting up.  I 
was getting close, and I tried to tell her so, but she didn't hear 
me over the crackle of lightning so close it made the hair on my 
arms and the fur on her face stand on edge.  The air around us 
sizzled with ozone as I heard her let loose a howl of pleasure and 
I came along with her, shooting my come into her body with such 
force I barely knew where to begin even thinking about it.

    The rain kept coming down, even harder than before, as she 
collapsed on top of me, holding herself up by her arms to stare 
down at me, her eyes still wild.  "You okay, Tasha?"

              -               -              -

    "That was great!" she snarled down at me.  Her hips kept 
grinding against mine, my shrinking erection threatening to slide 
out of her with every rotation.  "You were great!"

    "I'm glad you think so, but we're either going to die of 
electrocution or pneumonia before we get back home!"

    She laughed.  "What a way to go, though.  You're right; let's 
go!"  She rolled over to the side and shielded her eyes from the 
falling spray and rain.  "Get the picnic gear!  Should we dress?"

    "Will it do us any good?" I asked.

    "Probably not!" she shouted back as another thunderclap 
exploded overhead.  We collected our clothes, tossed them into the 
blanket, bundled it all into a sack and threw it into my Solo.

    We got home in one piece; once the forcefield is up a Solo is 
pretty indestructible.  It was coming down even harder at the 
Castle than it had been at North Point.  After drying off, I made 
my way up to the first floor and a room mislabeled Mission Control 
to take a look at the map.  Tasha found me after a few minutes.  I 
heard her coming; she sneezed.  "Getting that cold I warned you 
about?"

    "Either that or I've just got lots of water of my nose."

    "Always possible," I said, handing her a warm cup of tea.  
"Take a look.  The winds are getting up around 80 klicks.  I've 
ordered Dave to lower the Castle into the lagoon-locks, to get the 
protection from the bowl.  It's going to be ugly.  Aaden's not 
going to like it; summer gales tear up his gardens a lot."

    Tasha nodded and wrapped her arms around me from the back.  "I 
don't think I'll ever understand you, Father," she sighed softly.  
"At least, not as much as P'nyssa or Aaden or Ress do.  But I want 
you to know that I love you, and I understand how much you love me, 
too."

    I turned around to face her; she was wearing a white terrycloth 
robe with a big, fuzzy hood that I found surprisingly appealing.  
"All you have to know," I said softly, "is that, whether I need you 
now or not, whether I want you now or not, whether I'm even paying 
attention to you now or not... no matter how distracted, no matter 
how disinterested I seem to be-- when you need me, I'll be there.  
I'll do my damnedest for you."

    She hugged me tight and rested her head on my shoulder.  "I 
know.  And that's all you need to say."  I hugged her back, running 
my hand along the back of her head, holding her to me like the 
daughter she was and the lover she had become.

--
"Journal Entry 112 / 0741  [ Decanting Difficulties ]"
The Journal Entries of Kennet R'yal Shardik, et. al., and Related Tales
are copyright (C) 1989-1995 Elf Mathieu Sternberg.  Redistribution of
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Elf Sternberg            FUCK THE CDA!       (Cohen vs. California, 1971)
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