This is an instalment of the luculla hive, an erotic science-fiction novel. Go to the beginning.
The cat-girl and the warrior broke off their petting as suddenly as they had begun. My mind was a blank, not capable of comprehending what I had been witnessing, and so when the amazon took two steps towards me, I jumped nervously and scrambled to my feet.
But she showed no sign of wanting to engage me similarly. She stopped and held out her hand, her face a total blank. Did she want me to come to her? Why didn't she smile, or give me any indication of her intentions, besides those simple outstretched fingers?
'Yes, I'd like to come,' I tried, nodding. 'But I'm a little afraid of you.'
The warrior had inclined her head slightly at my voice, but there was no sign of comprehension. She glanced at the cat-girl, who had adopted her usual squatting observation nearby; but she already had a distracted air. With a last glance at us, she unfolded smoothly and pounced into the trees.
The warrior's eyes returned to me, impassive. The intensity of her gaze was mesmerising and disconcerting: the slits of her eyes were dark, without even a glint of light to betray an emotion, and her face was like a sculpture in supple silken clay. Her lips were full but almost the same colour as her skin, her nose straight and sharp, framed by pronounced cheekbones and jaw; and yet the whole was unmistakably feminine, in keeping with her athletic but statuesque build. Was she engineered, like the cat-girl, to be somehow in tune with her environment? Or with her role?
Eventually I stepped forward, more to break the tension than out of accumulated courage, and tentatively raised my own hand. This seemed to be enough for her, and before our fingers had even touched she turned and moved off into the bush.
At first I was relieved to see her walk, as I could barely stand, let alone endure another breathless chase. But unfortunately she proved almost as adept as the cat-girl at leaving me behind. Her pace appeared sedate, but her frame glided effortless and silent through the increasingly dense undergrowth as though she were no more subject to its physical hindrances than a ghost. I crashed, flailed and cursed along behind.
Most of the time she would stop and wait within sight, for which I was breathlessly grateful. A headache had compounded my physical woes, probably brought on by dehydration; my balance was haphazard, and even my eyesight was blurring with exhaustion. So when her silhouette now melted away for a longer time, in exerting myself to catch up I tripped pathetically, and could not get up again.
I lay there, winded, looking unseeing at the green nest in which I lay, sparkling with shards of the sun. My mind was a blank, but my body was not yet ready to succumb to unconsciousness, and time and the forest seemed to stretch out like an endless canvas; in which questions began to appear.
What was I doing here? How could I have left the Professor's body; left Raja, to chase after these forest demons? Was he running for his life, right now, from the killer that was still out there?
Was I going to die here?
I moaned with helplessness, and my vision shimmered with tears. I was a scientist, not an adventurer. I wanted to be back in the ruins of the lab, cataloguing charred equipment and speculating pleasantly over their use, with Raja, funny, quiet Raja watching over me; giving my reports to the Professor, who would nod sagely but sometimes fall asleep, his beard dipping down onto his shirt... but oh! I gasped with dismay at the sudden memory of blood splashed over scattered clothes and flesh and bone, and sobbed wretchedly.
But slowly through my misery I became aware that my own sounds were not unique in the forest. The usual rustling of the wind in the vegetation was overlaid, occasionally but distinctly, with distant calls. I levered myself up a little to listen, suddenly aware of the incongruity of animal noises on this planet, even though my earth-evolved subconscious thought nothing of it. They seemed to come from several directions, and they might have been human, although very basic in structure. After a few moments of listening, an almost rhythmic pattern arose quite nearby, then faded.
Was I hearing communication? In excitement, I made an attempt to regain my feet. I had to find out more; I owed it to the Professor not to give up. I achieved a sitting position, and paused to catch my breath.
The quietest of rustlings behind me made me twist anxiously, and there was the warrior again, but not alone. I gaped, and dragged my knees around for a better look. I had no expectations, but the cat-girl and warrior had inured me to strangeness; this was wonder of another kind altogether.
The newcomer was beautiful. Totally, mesmerisingly beautiful. She was blonde, bronzed, and completely nude; but I only took that in peripherally, because her eyes captured my attention and did not let it go. Like the others I had met she betrayed no emotion, but that only seemed to make her gaze more intense. She came straight to me, slowing only at the last moment to drop one knee to the earth. Her perfect humanity and nakedness meant I was not at all afraid; and for a moment everything went still as she held my gaze, our eyes level, her face only inches away.
At length she glanced down, and I followed her eyes to the rough cup she was carrying. She lifted it, offering, and I accepted it automatically. A little froth around the meniscus of the liquid within suggested it was not just water. I tried it tentatively: it was light but earthy, slightly fermented; local beer, perhaps. I gulped it hungrily, feeling my body reacting pre-emptively to the nutrition with spreading warmth and energy.
As I drained the vessel, I became aware that she had her fingers on my arm, her head cocked to watch them. I flinched ever so slightly, and they lifted momentarily, but then returned. She was incredibly gentle, but I could feel detail in her touch, varying the pressure and positions of her fingers as she brushed them downward. The feelings this aroused in me were powerful, disproportionate to such a simple action. My mind jumped to conclude it was sexual, and the resultant clamour of emotional reactions made me physically cringe.
Her fingers rose again. She returned to watching my eyes. I struggled to control myself: I had to observe, dispassionately if I could. Perhaps these people had a kind of super-eroticism, using sexual behaviours even for greeting and grooming; like Bonobos on Earth. But why didn't they use their sounds with me, those I had heard from the surrounding forest?
She tried once again: I watched her hand with interest but incomprehension as it worked gently down from my shoulder. When it reached my elbow, she gracefully lifted it again and replaced it onto my collarbone, three fingertips inside the curve of my vest's neck opening. I must have looked apprehensive, because she paused to lock her eyes to mine once more. As I had feared, her fingertips then began to trail, ever so slowly, down towards my breast.
I wasn't ready. I tucked my own fingers beneath her palm, trying to be clear but firm. 'Sorry,' I said. 'That's not allowed in my culture. Can't you speak to me?'
She had stopped moving her hand, but did not lift it away. On sudden inspiration, I tried to make some of the sounds I had heard: a kind of repeated high-pitched grunt.
The reaction was immediate, and clearly quite as instinctive as mine had been. She rocked away onto her feet, putting distance between us as though I had insulted her. I stood too, hastily, saying, 'Sorry, sorry. I don't know what's okay for you. Don't be offended.'
Ignoring me, she turned to the warrior. They embraced, and kissed, her neck craning a little to reach the larger woman's lips. I was less shocked this time, especially as I had a biological theory to protect my emotions; but their passion was still fascinating, totally unlike any grooming behaviour I had ever heard of. But it was short-lived, and the blonde woman quickly disengaged, and without a backward glance, she lightly stepped away into the trees and melted from view.
The warrior had raised her hand to me again, for which I was grateful: I might have blunderingly driven off the mysterious nymph, but it seemed that the colony was not finished with me yet.
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10:15:11
Katie, hi! What do you... oh my god. Katie, no! Katie, where did you get this? Katie!
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