Archive-name: JourEntr/j164-212.txt
Archive-author: Elf Matheiu Sternberg
Archive-title: Ambassadors

 
Journal Entry 212 / 0164

     "Kennet?"

     The shout from the command cabin jolted me awake from yet another
short catnap.  The four-day transit time to Terra was trying on my
nerves and stamina; Kangaroos are great trans-atmospheric shuttlecraft,
but they're cramped inside.  Information is light, so I had plenty of
reading, music, video, and even writing to keep myself occupied if I so
desired.  Consumables such as food are not, and our technology in that
field isn't as advanced as Terra's, so my stomach, and I guessed the
stomachs of my five companions, were not so content.

     I groaned audibly as I creaked out of my chair, stiff and sore, and
walked forward on velcro slippers to the CC.  I grabbed hold of a
support strut and leaned in casually, looking down at our lovely Felinzi
pilot.  "What's up?"

     She didn't look up from her console as she said, "You said advise
you when we were leaving hyperspace.  Ten minutes."

     "Mph," I agreed tiredly.  I noted the copilot's chair was empty.
"Shtamed taking a nap?"

     "Yep," she replied.  "Go ahead, have a seat."

     I eased myself into the red-upholstered chair and strapped the
harness on, looking over the ever-bewildering array of readouts,
displays and consoles.  In the first six years of Pendor's shift to a
space-faring culture, many people had been surprised at the sudden rush
of people anxious to get "out there."

     I had not been so surprised.  I'm so fully aware of diversity that
I was sure we'd have hundreds of talented starstruck Pendorians anxious
to take their place as crewfen.  Pendorians who would understand why I
insisted on having a small crew learn about zero gravity and spaceflight
even before we lived in a place with stars in the sky.  What frustrated
me was that my own rise into space was, for me, painfully slow.  I had
taken classes in orbital and special mechanics, starship maintenance and
so forth, but I wasn't as quick a learner as many.  I had expected more
from myself.

     I blinked at the controls, forcing myself to think of what I
wanted, reached for the keyboard and dialed a plus-z overhead view of
our ship's predicted path, closing in on a time-tolerant view of the
approaching ex-hyperspace window.  Eight minutes to go.

     As I watched the clock tick down, a thought that had been nagging
me for the past day finally clicked in my head.  "K'meh?"

     "Sir?"

     "Uhm..."  I paused to collect my thoughts.  "Neither P'nyssa or
anyone else with whom I feel I have a comforting relationship with came
with me on this trip.  I, uh... well, first of all, I want you to stop
calling me 'Sir.'  That 'Kennet' you addressed me with earlier is fine."
I swallowed hard, thinking about how sometimes dealing with people was
so very easy, and then at times like this I couldn't get out a single
word.  "You and I were talking rather... comfortably yesterday, and I'd
like to ask if you'd consider sharing my room."  I snorted a soft laugh
at my own reluctance.  "My bed."

     K'meh didn't even blink at the invitation.  "I thought you had the
invitation of Dr. Stoneman."

     I smiled, checked the clock, and placed my hand over hers.  "Dr.
Stoneman and I have every intention of having dinner together.  If
something else develops out of that, which I doubt, well... Let me be
honest, K'meh... I don't like to sleep alone."

     She laughed freely, tossing her head back.  "So," she said loudly,
recovering, "Am I a roommate, or backup?"

     I blushed, embarrassed.  "Maybe a little bit of both."

     She pulled her hand free from under mine, and then laid it atop
mine reassuringly.  "I need a roommate, and I can't think of anyone I'd
rather have."

     Before I could answer, there was a curious lurch, but it felt as if
it were coming from inside my skull, rather than against the harness,
which seemed to move not at all.  K'meh was suddenly busy.  "Kanga Two,
Kanga Two."

     "This is Kanga Two," the radio announced cleanly.  "That you at the
helm, K'meh?"

     "Affirmative, Segio.  How's your compliment?"

     "We're fine.  Nice scheduling; we came out clean."

     "Nice to drive with you, Seg.  See you on Terra."

     "Right.  Stay in touch."

     "Will do.  Out."  She turned her attention to the navigation
computer.  "We're an hour out from Luna Insertion Orbit, and it looks
like we'll be coming along the right path so we should be landing at
Tycho in slightly under two hours."

     I nodded.  "Sorry about the stop at Luna."

     She smiled and pointed around herself towards the back.  "The
scientists wanted a Luna conference.  Besides, everyone wants a past
they can touch," she finished mysteriously.

     I settled back into the chair and looked at her curiously, but
decided not to continue the conversation.  Instead, I summoned up the
collection of short stories by Edgar Allan Poe that I'd been reading
earlier.  Eventually, I leaned back in my chair and napped.

 
 
     "Vatare'," the voice said, someone shaking my shoulder.  "I'm going
to need the co-pilot's position for landing."

     "Eh?" I said, waking quickly.  "Oh," I said, smiling, "sure."  I
creaked against out of my comfortable seat, handing it back to flight
specialist Shtamed.  I drifted back to my equally comfortable passenger
chair and pulled the harness back on there as well.  "You have one
minute to secure positions," K'meh announced, "before we detach from the
hyperdrive module for descent to the lunar surface.  Please make sure
you are all strapped in securely."

     The actual landing took only fifteen minutes more.  Although I had
put off thinking about it for the past couple of days, now that we were
actually coming close to Tycho Base my anxiety level was increasing with
every diminishing meter.  I tried to relax.  It had been, for me,
centuries since I had last spoken to Victoria Stoneman face-to-face.  I
looked down at my hands, still perfectly smooth and relatively untouched
by age or effort.  I knew Victoria's wouldn't be the same.

     The Kanga came to a gentle, perfect touchdown on the lunar terrain.
Although I had always been an avid reader of "science fiction," and had
been a member of a spacefaring race for nearly fifty years, this was my
first visit to Earth's moon, that object that had hung overhead for so
much of my youth.

     We were lowered into a receiving bay, and then the entire platform
started to move across the bay, apparently on some sort of giant truck. 
The same philosophy that had led to the development of the huge tractor-
carriages that hauled space vehicles out to their launch pads apparently
had been adapted for use on Luna.  The truck pulled into a smaller bay,
and airlock doors double-sealed behind us.  There was a delay as air was
pumped into the airlock, and then the doors in front opened, leading us
to a pressurized maintenance bay filled with a large collection of
uniform spacecraft, none of which were ever intended for atmospheric
flight.

     "The outside is apparently safely pressurized," K'meh announce.
"At least, I hope it is... there are humans out there working in
shirtsleeves.  I'm going to open both doors on the airlock
sequentially."  The outside doors opened first, followed by the inside
doors; there was just a slight >pop< as the pressure outside and in
equalized.

     "After you, Kennet," said the Uncia medic who had come to Luna to
give his presentation on xenophysiology and space medicine.  I nodded
and slowly stepped down the self-extending steps onto to vaguely
ellipsoid landing platform.

     A stairway ramp was rolled up to the platform and a tall, aging
caucais human with swept, black hair and grey eyes bounded up, followed
by a small party, in the center of which I spied Victoria.  He crossed
the platform assuredly and held out his hand.  "How do you do?  I'm
Martin Scheider, Commander of Moonbase Tycho.  Welcome, and welcome to
United States Territory."  He held out his hand.

     I took it and shook comfortably.  "Glad to be here," I said.  He
smiled in response, and I thought I would call his smile 'charming.'  I
wondered how much of that smile was honest, and how much of it he
reserved for the politicians he had to deal with on a daily basis.  Most
of it felt honest, to me.

     "I understand that the three Pendrii behind you are here for the
conferences on extra solar exploration, but I am also led to understand
that you personally are here to visit Dr. Victoria Stoneman?"

     I coughed politely and said, "Yes; Dr. Stoneman and I have been
corresponding for a number of years, and seeing as I was going to be in
the neighborhood I requested clearance to land and visit."

     "I received the information five days ago."  I wondered how the
information had been worded.  As a request, or orders?  He continued.
"I would like to introduce various members of my staff.  This is Wilton
Marchoff, my deputy director," I shook hands with her, "Elizabeth
Knight, my chief medical officer, and I believe you already know my head
of Physical Sciences, Victoria Stoneman."

     I shook hands with Dr. Knight before bowing deeply to Victoria.
"Hello, Victoria.  You're looking wonderful for eighty-two years."

     "As are you, Ken."  Her smile was dazzling.  She held out her hand
and I kissed it;  As I had realized earlier, her skin was thin and
fragile, projections of her great age upon her.  I felt saddened by her
suddenly, just standing there.

     Commander Scheider seemed slightly surprised by the familiarity of
the exchange, but he recovered quickly and said, "Well, let's have your
crew settled into their cabins.  I understand that you and your flight
crew will be heading on to Moscow in a few days."

     "The day after tomorrow, at 19:00 Greenwich Mean Time," K'meh
replied.  Is there a problem with that scheduling?"

     "Just give us six hours notification and we'll have a clearance
ready for you," said a broad-shouldered man standing with Commander
Scheider's party.  "Does your ship require any particular type of
refueling or maintenance?"

     "Not that it isn't already getting," Shtamed replied.  "It's the
atmospheric insertions that really tear them up, and we have a facility
at New Boeing Field to do that sort of maintenance work."

     As we were led into the underground moonbase (a trip which involved
a short hop in a tracked tube), I noticed K'meh glancing about
nervously.  We were shown our temporary quarters, and when the doors
closed I dropped my bag and gave her a tight hug.  "Feeling
claustrophobic?" I asked her.

     "A little," she admitted.  The quaver in her voice gave away just
how big "a little" was.

     "We just spent four days cooped up in a Kangaroo.  Compared to
that, this is spacious.  It's bigger than the entire cabin!"

     She smiled.  "Forgive me if I don't trust Terran technology."

     "Now, now," I chided.  "Nobody has died from a hardware failure in
nearly two decades."

     "What about that big blowout four years ago?  A window and three
successive bulkheads all failed!"

     "You know that was sabotage,"

     "And that's supposed to make me feel more comfortable about being
in a Terran facility?" she replied.

     "Nobody died from it."

     "Two of their security officers were nearly frozen to death and
asphyxiated."

     "They survived, didn't they?"

     "They lost fingers and toes."

     "They got them back," I said, giving her another squeeze.  I
decided not to tell her about Victoria.  "Besides, after four days
without a shower, I think we both need one.  Maybe two."

     She sniffed at herself delicately, wrinkled her nose and said "If I
was as much of a feline as I appear to these humans to be, I'd lick
myself clean."

     I laughed at the gesture and said, "Would you like to take one
together?"

     "That sounds wonderful," she agreed, stepping free of my arms and
locating that bathroom.  From within I heard her voice say, "Then again,
maybe not.  Have you seen the size of their showerstall?"

     I poked my head in and looked.  She was right; it would barely hold
one of us, much less two.  "On the other hand... take a look at the
water restrictions."

     She read them carefully, sighing.  "How are we going to do this?"

     "We take one together, pooling our ration so that you get as wet as
possible, we turn up the heat lamps in the bathroom, and then we rinse
off the same way."

     "Okay, let's try it," she said, shrugging out of her flight
uniform.  Inside, she did smell like an unwashed cat, a very unwashed
one.  I was quick to grab the showerhead and play the streams all over
her body, turning on the shower massage portion to drive the pressurized
water under her fur.  She giggled in places when I did that.  Once she
was wet I ran it over myself just as quickly, then turned the water off.
"Do you have soap?"

     "In the black bag," she pointed.  "It's the brown bottle."  I found
the wide, plastic squeeze bottle of soap, splashed some in my hands and
ran then over her torso, starting at her neck and sliding down quickly. 
"Smells good," I said.  "Is that clove oil?"

     "Yep," she replied, purring softly as my hands ran down her chest. 
Normally, I tend to think of pilots as being very thin, light people.
K'meh's body could only be described as lush.  Her hips were wide, her
breasts were very full, and her shoulders were broad.  Her fur was an
almost-white grey liberally polka-dotted with teardrop-shaped spots of
brown streaked with gray, the spots thinning out at her neck and between
her thighs, although they seemed quite dense at the base of her spine.
She was just as tall as I was.

     I had a hard time ignoring how alluring she was when I ran my hands
under her breasts to get the soap up against her pelt, and I don't think
she minded too much when I lingered there longer than was necessary.  I
had her turn around and gave her back similar treatment, rubbing my
hands in small, tight circles to massage her neck.  She purred softly
and leaned her head against the yielding wall of the shower.  "Rub
harder," she purred pleadingly.

     I pushed in harder, down around her spine and between her
shoulderblades, trying to ease the pressure of 120 or so hours of flight
time.  Although the computers on board had taken much of the effort off
her hands, none of us were completely relaxed-- just sitting makes me
tense sometimes.  She purred softly, collapsing against the showerstall
wall and letting me hold her up as I rubbed her.  I slowly worked my way
down and began caressing her hips and buttocks; the sounds coming from
her muzzle were positively ecstatic.  She moaned softly as my hands
pressed into the tight flesh of her thighs, as much for the massage as
for the soap, kneeling down and working down to her calves and finally
her feet.  "I'd like to do this part when we're dry."

     "That sounds wonderful," she sighed.  "Would you like me to wash
you as well?"

     "Please... but be quick.  I don't want the soap on you to dry
suddenly and give you a rash."

     "It won't be that long," she replied, smiling and trading places
with me, running her soap along my chest with her paws.  I suddenly
understood why she had reacted so vocally to my touch; after four days
of wearing the same clothes and sitting in the same position, just to be
touched by another person was sheer bliss, never mind that she was
massaging me just as firmly as I had her.  Her hands were just as sure,
rubbing my neck, back, buttocks, thighs.  I nearly passed out, it felt
that wonderful.  I wanted to sleep, and sleep for real.

     When she was finally done, I turned around and grabbed the
showerhead.  "In," I ordered.  She smiled and got in as I again ran the
water over her head, her chest, teasing at the fur to get the soap out
of all of it.  When she was rinsed, I turned the head on myself and
rinsed off quickly.  "Whew," I sighed.

     "Yeah," she replied.  "After that, I feel ready for sleep."

     "Computer?" I asked aloud.  There was no response.  "I thought they
had vocal-control computers on Tycho?"

     "Maybe you need to address a terminal or something," she said
thoughtfully as she toweled off.  Being furred, she needed more time
than I did to get the water off her.

     "I'll go take a look."  Without a concern for modesty, I walked
into the main room and found what looked like a keyboard terminal with a
condenser microphone.  The wall appeared to be a wide-screen display.  I
toggled the 'power' bar in the upper-right-hand corner of the keyboard
and the screen came up with a menu.  "Computer?" I inquired aloud.

     "Listening," came back a flat and unpleasant male voice.

     "Where is Doctor Victoria Stoneman?"

     "Doctor Stoneman is in her laboratory," the computer replied.

     "Can you please connect..." I suddenly realized that I was still
naked.  I leaned far out of the chair I was sitting in to grab a long
nightshirt from my bag and slipped it on.

     "Repeat, please," the computer responded.

     "Can you please connect me to Doctor Stoneman?"

     "I am inquiring Doctor Stoneman right now."  I cursed under my
breath about stupid computers and computer programmers.

     Finally the screen cleared and Victoria peered out at me.  "Ken!"
she responded cheerfully, smiling.

     "Hi, Vicki," I replied.  "You're looking swell."

     "You too," she said.  "Are we still having dinner tonight?"

     "When's 'tonight?'" I asked.

     "It's only noon right now.  How about eight o'clock?"

     I closed my eyes and sighed, thanking a deity at random.  I think
today's was Loki.  "That would be wonderful.  I need to take a nap.  Is
there anything you want from me when I show up?"

     "Just you," she replied softly.  "See you in a few hours."

     "Okay," I said.  "See you then, Vicki."

     K'meh chose right then to walk out; After setting the alarm clock I
turned to watch her walk naked across the room and dig through her bag
for a fur brush.

     I stood up and walked behind her, giving her a gentle hug.  "Would
you like me to help with that brush?" I asked.

     "I sure would," she sighed, sitting down slowly on the edge of the
bed.  Then again, in the one-sixth gravity of Luna, everything seemed to
happen in slow motion anyway.  I started at the top of her head, dealing
with knots and tangles for the next half hour.  She purred anyway under
my gentle touch.  It didn't seem quite so hard to concentrate on what I
was doing this time, even though I got a rather solid erection while I
was brushing her breasts and about her vulva.  I gave her feet the
massage I had promised, and she did indeed fall asleep during it.  I
slipped under the light sheets with her and joined her in complete
unconsciousness.

 
 
     At seven the alarm chime woke me up, making me blink and look up.
With a soft groan I climbed out of bed, careful not to disturb K'meh who
chose to stay solidly asleep.  "Smart girl," I whispered softly.

     I decided to dress smartly, so I located my Pendor Interstellar
Fleet uniform and pulled it on, carefully buckling the various snaps and
frogs and such, pulling the collar out and adjusting the cufflinks.  I
examined myself in the mirror and decided that I looked reasonable after
brushing my hair.  I reached for the keyboard and began typing in
commands.  I asked for a quick map to Victoria's home, found it,
memorized it as best I could and walked out.  K'meh, fortunately, slept
through the whole operation.

     I had to ask someone for directions anyway.

     I approached the doorway with a hint of trepidation and pressed the
door chime.  The door opened.  Victoria stood before me, looking
wonderful in a simple light-gray monk's robe that folded around her body
and was tied around her hips.  She wore the hood up, but lowered it
behind her head as I looked in.  "Hi," I said.

     "Hello, Ken," she replied softly.  "Come in; dinner is still
cooking, so it might be a few minutes before it's ready.  Make yourself
at home, look around."

     I nodded and stepped through the door, hearing it close behind me. 
She smiled and turned back into the kitchen to again pay attention to
her cooking.  "I remember your penchant for beef, so I'm cooking steak."

     "Real steak?"

     "Not really," she replied.  "I'm told some people can tell the
difference."

     "Depends on how different 'different' is."

     "It's made by Solid Artificial Photosythesis."

     "I probably won't be able to tell the difference, then," I said,
glancing around her home qua laboratory.  There were a variety of
instruments laying about, the most notable was an authentic-looking
brass reflective telescope that peered out a large bay of windows at the
stars.  To the left of the windows was a framed copy of her certificate
from the Nobel Committee for Achievement in Mathematics and Physics.
There was a drafting table in one corner, above which a carefully drawn
illustration of a house was taped to the wall; the corners of the
drawing were yellowing with age, and the paper appeared to have cracked
in places.  Several tears in the sheet had been repaired with cellophane
tape, telling me this drawing had moved a couple of times, but probably
wouldn't survive moving again.  "This house," I said aloud, "You live
there once?"

     "I was going to," Victoria replied, two plates in her hands.
"Come, I've got dinner ready.  Sit down."  I took a seat at her dining
table where she indicated.  From where we sat, we could look out the
windows at the stars overhead.

     "You were going to?  What happened?"

     "I drew that back when I was young, and poor, and new to Luna.
Then the accident, and... "  Her voice trailed off.  "I haven't been to
Terra since then, you know."

     "I know."

     She laughed softly.  "It's sad, isn't it?" she said, turning to
look at me.  "I have all the money I could ever want, the affection of
everyone on Luna, but I just can't do what I want.  I can't go home."

     "So, what happened to the house?"

     "Oh, it never existed.  I was just drawing it freehand to see what
I thought I wanted.  It looked about right for New Hampshire, huh?  I
guess I could have given the drawing to my daughter, but she never could
stand to live out in the country the way I wanted."

     I nodded.  Then what she said dawned on me.  "You have a daughter? 
When?"

     "About forty years ago," Victoria said calmly.  "About two years
after the accident, in fact.  I wanted to get that over with, and I
decided that since I was going to be bedridden anyway, that was the
perfect time to have my child."

     "That was before the birthright selection, right?"  She nodded.
"What did you do with your second birthright?"

     "I gave it to her.  She's allowed three children.  Four, actually."

     "Four?  She bought a fourth?" I asked.

     "I bought it for her.  She wanted it, and I haven't got anything
better to do with my money."  She laughed softly.  "Most of it goes to
charity anyway."

     I nodded, watching her move with a calm majesty I thought I would
never have.  "You know, Vicki, you're as beautiful as you ever were."

     She smiled back.  "You were never a good liar, Ken.  When you first
knew me I was the overweight lonely girl with braces and coke-bottle
glasses.  If I'm as beautiful now as I was then, I think I'm in trouble.

     "You know what I mean," I said.  She smiled back at me and said,
"Yeah, I guess I do.  You yelled at me, once."

     "You pissed me off, once," I replied.  "I'm sorry."

     "So am I," she said.  "Apology accepted," she said.

     "I still think you look wonderful."

     "Ken," she sighed slowly, "Let's face the face.  I'm eighty-two
years old.  And unlike you, I am not going to live forever.  I'm going
to live a lot longer than my groundside relatives.  My family stock was
always long-lived, and good food, a lighter gravity, and--" she spread
her fingers over her chest-- "an artificial heart are all good reasons
that I should live well past a hundred."

     "That doesn't mean I don't find you beautiful, Vicki."

     She smiled.  "Do you really?"

     "Yeah.  Why shouldn't I?  It's not like I find small differences in
body types a disadvantage."

     "Yes, I saw your female friend.  She's very pretty."

     "K'meh?" I asked.  "Yes, she is."

     "So why do you want me?"

     I looked around idly.  "Because I came to visit you.  K'meh and I
are just newfound fast friends, but she's not you, Vicki.  Besides," I
smiled mischeviously, "call it an ego thing."

     "Ego?  How so?"

     "I did want to be the one to take your virginity."

     She laughed.  "You silly kid.  You haven't changed one little bit."

     "Watch who you're calling 'kid,' youngster," I said, "I'm still a
hundred and twenty-eight years older than you are."

     "Really?" she said, looking up.  "I didn't realize... where did the
other twenty-eight years come from... or is that how long the set-up
took?"

     I nodded.  "Pendor took four point five million years to set up.
Although I spent most of that time 'in transit,' so to speak, the
monitoring and measuring of progress took twenty one years."

     "And the other seven?"

     "Building Centaurs."

     "All by yourself.  Tell me how that happened?"

     "How what happened?"

     "How you came to build Pendor.  What happened?  One day, you were
there... the next, you were gone.  That hunk of junk you drove was gone.

     I sighed quietly and told her the whole story, starting, as the
White Queen once said, at the beginning, and going all the way to the
end, and then stopping.  She was silent through the whole thing, sipping
from a glass of wine.

     "And that's it?" she asked.  "Someone decided you should be God,
and that was that?  Suddenly you were?"

     "Something like that.  I mean, I know someone had to start the
process, but eventually it became a closed loop, me handing Fawn to me,
over and over eternally."

     "Too bad we can't go back in time and do something about it."

     "Maybe someday somebody will.  Until then, we have to live with it.
Do you find what I did... repulsive?  I know some people do."

     She shook her head.  "No, I don't.  Predictable, for anyone who
knew you, maybe.  You were never into power, really, so much as you were
into satisfaction.  I like your solution."

     I reached out and touched the back of her hand with mine.  "Thank
you."

     She pulled her hand away from me.  "That's not the real one," she
said.  "Besides, I'm really too old for that sort of thing."

     "To what?" I asked.  "Be touched?"  I grabbed her other hand and
held it tightly, being careful not to apply too much pressure.
"Everyone needs to be touched, Victoria.  You do, I do, everyone does."

     "You're reading too much pop psychology, Ken."

     "Am I?" I asked softly.  "I've raised over a hundred children in my
household, given birth to eleven species.  I think I know a few things
about people.  Thing one is that all people need to be touched."  I was
quiet for a minute.  "Victoria... even though you and I never slept
together, I know how physical a creature you were.  Remember playing
flag football in the mud in that field behind the theatre?"  She nodded,
her smile distant and wistful.

     "That was a long time ago."  She lifted her right hand and waved it
in front of me.  "That was before this.  That was before an accident
took away my arm and my leg."   She smiled.  "It's nothing."

     "Nothing?  You saved 82 people that day."

     "Four people died anyway."

     "Still... You're a hero.  Don't dismiss that."

     "Oh, I don't," she said.  "Look at this room.  It's hero worship of
a sort, Ken.  They can't send me home; I'll die.  So they stick me in
the most expensive nursing home in the galaxy.  They let this
nobel-prize-winning cripple dote about her laboratory and sometimes they
visit her and thank her for being such an important part of Moonbase
Tycho."

     I stood up, grabbed my chair and planted it next to her.  I sat
down besides her as she looked away.  "I'm not going to ignore you or
fawn at you or dote on you."

     "No, you're worse, in a way."

     "Because I'm twice as old as you are?"

     "No," she said firmly.  "No, you were always meant to live forever,
Ken.  It was obvious from the day we met you.  Although I would like to
have seen what you looked like with grey hair."

     "I'll dye it the next time I stop by."

     "Do that," she said, smiling.  I leaned down to kiss her smile, and
she let me.  As I backed away again she said, "No, that's not it.  It's
because you haven't changed at all.  You don't hurt me because of what
you are, you do because of what you were.  I remember you, walking
around with a squirt gun, and shooting me as I begged you not to.  You
remind me of what I had."

     I stroked her cheek softly; her skin was wrinkled with age, but the
surface was still smooth.  Her eyes were still bright.  "I still want
you, Victoria.  It isn't age, or beauty, or even ego that makes me want 
you.  It's simple honestly.  I just remember the beautiful black woman
who spent a summer with me, who I held in my arms the night she cried as
her boyfriend left her."

     She laughed.  "And I used to think you didn't like me because I was
black."

     "I hardly think race was stopping me from paying attention to you. 
Look with what I sleep with nowadays."

     She nodded, smiling.  "I used to wonder when it began."

     "When what began?" I asked curiously.

     "When we stop being people and start being machines."  She tapped
her chest again, through the monk's robe she wore.  "Is it when I get a
bridge for my teeth?  Dentures?  Contact lenses?"  She smiled.  "When do
you start thinking of Grandma as a cyborg?"

     "What brought this depressing line of thought on?" I asked.

     "I was just wondering when I stopped feeling.  Did you know, Ken,
that every six months Beth checks to make sure the age spots on this arm
match the ones on my left?" She turned to me.  "As much as I want to
give you what you want, as much as I wish the feelings were still
there... they aren't."

     I nodded.  "Can I still spend the night next to you?"

     She looked over at me curiously.  "Whatever for?"

     "How about for old time's sake?" I asked, smiling.  "How about,
because I want to?"

     She thought about it quietly.  "Very well," she said, smiling.
"Maybe those feelings aren't so dead after all."

     "Hopefully not."

     "Are you tired?" she asked, surprised.  "I am, but I assumed you
and your friend would be getting sleep since you landed."

     "I didn't get enough," I said softly.  "Your dinner filled me, and
I tend to get tired after a big dinner."

     She smiled and nodded, rising.  "Come this way, then," she said,
leading me through a small door into a dark room that lit as we entered,
the room behind us darkening and the door closing.  Her bed was large
enough for two, I guessed, the same size as the one K'meh and I were
sharing.  She turned around and said "You're really determined to do
this."

     "Dammit, Vicki, this isn't necrophilia and it isn't altruism.  I
want you.  Is that so hard to get through to you?"

     She shook her head and reached into her robe, tugging at a short
string that opened the whole thing to me.  Underneath, her skin was
still clean, her breasts hadn't sagged all that much, although they had
perhaps lost some mass.  The benefits of living in a low-gravity
environment.  I smiled.  "Do you still want me?"

     "Yes," I replied, smiling.  "Why shouldn't I?"

     "Because you're so used to youth.  All of your children, they all
look so young, strong, pure."

     I walked over to her, my jacket and shirt unbuttoned, and pressed
my bare chest to hers in a tight bearhug.  "Why should that make a
difference at all?  They're that way because I don't want them to die,
Vicki, not because I want them to always be young."  I sighed rested my
head on her shoulder.  "I don't want you to die, either."

     She sighed.  "I wasn't meant to live forever."  I dropped the
subject like a stone.  Every time I had discussed the possibility of her
Hallwalking, she told me to not discuss it.  I stepped back and undid my
clothing, standing before her naked as she stood with me.  She smiled.
"You look wonderful."

     "As do you."

     "Thanks," she said, taking my hand and leading me to bed.  Her hand
felt frail in mine; despite the advantages of the lower gravity, one of
the problems inherent with it was the lack of resistance; there was
little reason for muscles to remain at the strength they have on Earth. 
She turned on her side and I cuddled up behind her.  I held her close
and together we fell asleep.

 
 
     With dawn I awoke to find her still lying against me.  I was
fascinated by her body, so different from anything I had ever
encountered before or probably would ever again.  It wasn't that I was
erotically charged by her pronounced and visible aging, or that I
wondered what the experience she was going through was like, so much as
I merely found it so different that I felt it worth exploring, worth
touching.  Like her.

     She stirred as I ran my hand over her belly, her skin responding to
my touch only slightly.  Her hand reached up to touch mine, and her eyes
opened slowly.  "Maybe I'm not so old as I thought," she smiled.  "I had
a strange dream last night."

     "Memories of a man lying next to you?" I asked, smiling.

     "No, not even that.  Although having you lie next to me proved to
me how much I missed it."

     "Enough to get out more often?"

     "That remains to be seen," she whispered, squeezing my hand
tightly.  I leaned over and kissed her softly, my left hand touching her
belly softly and then sliding down to probe delicately between her legs,
stroking through the thick, almost wiry pubic hair, which I bet if I
looked was a mixed silver and black as the hair on her head.  Her mouth
felt warm against mine, warm and wet.  Her vulva was just as warm and
just as human.  With my fingers and with experience, I parted her outer
labia and slid a finger between them, playing with her lips and her
clitoris.  She sighed slightly, a high-pitched "ieee..." sound.  She
looked up at me.  "I forgot..."

     "Forgot what?" I asked softly, stopping for a moment.  "Don't tell
me you don't masturbate anymore."

     She shook her head.  "I thought I was getting to old even for that.

     I slid my fingers across the top of her clitoral hood.  "Victoria,
you're never to old to play with yourself.  Besides," I said smiling,
"You haven't got a heart to fibrillate."  She smiled at me and I kissed
her lips again, sliding down her chin and across her breasts briefly.
There was an unfamiliar, musky scent to her that I refused to
categorize, even to myself.  The scent was replaced with a much more
familiar scent when I slid between her legs.  I kissed the top of her
mons and her hands clutched at mine, my arms stretched out before me
over her body.

     She moaned again, that high-pitched "Iee!" sound.  Her body
shuddered under my tongue as I licked at her cunny, trying (and losing)
my argument with her pubic hair as to where it belonged.   She began to
thrust her hips upwards; I had to clamp my hands down on her thighs to
hold her in place.  Her voice's pitch climbed higher, reaching for notes
even beyond my hearing.  I was wondering how much longer she could keep
this up; her body was curling in response to my every lick, until she
finally answered my question, screaming and pounding the mattress with
her fists.  "Okay!" she gasped.  "Okay, you've proven your point, damn
you!"  I smiled and crawled up the length of her body, touching her
gently as I slid up to lie besides her.

     She laughed softly as she wiped her brow of sweat that wasn't
there.  "I haven't had a climax like that in nearly two years.  How
could I forget?"

     "I dunno," I said, smiling.  She reached down with her real hand,
thin and frail, and wrapped it around my penis.  "When I was younger, I
used to play with these things a lot."

     "Before or after the accident?"

     "Both," she said.  "The accident never slowed me down, Ken.  I was
boffing male nurses even before I had the borgings fit on."

     I laughed.  "That sounds like you.  You just let age catch up to
you?"

     "Age and depression," she sighed, her hand slowly stroking my cock.
"I got over the depression," she said, smiling, "But not the age."

     I nodded, slowly easing myself over and between legs.  She smiled
up at me, her hands reaching up to my shoulders, as I slid my cock into
her.  Her eyes closed fast, her mouth open, a soft gasp.  "Oh, yes..."
she sighed.  I made love to her slowly, stroking deep within her cunny;
she pressed her hips upwards with every stroke.  We began to make love
with a little more urgency, pressing up against each other, kissing as
we made love and my climax rose on soft cat feet to explode within me
and her, a tiny explosion of desire and pleasure.

     I looked down at her and said, "Victoria, you're still a lovely
woman, inside and out."

     She laughed brightly and looked up at me.  "You're right," she
said.  "Even at eighty-two I should have more lovers, right?"

     "Right!" I laughed.  "When I was your age I had a dozen lovers."

     "I should be thankful I only have you chasing me," she said.  "Oh!"

     "Are you okay?" I asked.  That hadn't sounded like a happy "Oh!"

     "Yeah," she smiled.  "Don't go acting like I'm some frail old woman
just because I am.  My back hurts once in a while, Ken.  Part of that's
your fault, you know... It's been a long time since I had sex with
someone."

     I smiled and leaned over to kiss her.  "I missed you sometimes."

     "You have memories that go back that far?"

     "Remember that biocybernetics is Pendor's premier science.  I can
remember anything I want."

     "'We can remember it for you wholesale.'"

     "Something like that," I said, smiling and recognizing the
reference.  "We should get dressed."

     "Shouldn't we shower first?"

     "What about the water restrictions?"

     "I don't pay attention to those.  I guess they figure I'm going
senile."

     I laughed and shook my head, joining her in the shower.  We were
efficient, however, and tried not to waste any water.

 
 
     "Missed you last night," K'Meh said gently.

     "I know.  I just needed to..."

     She reached out and touched my arm.  "You don't need to explain,"
she whispered, pulling me close to her.  "I understand."

     I smiled at her.  "I'm glad someone does," I replied.  "I'm going
to spend the day at the medical conference.  Want to join me?"

     She stuck her tongue out.  "Doctors.  I'm going to go talk to some
of the pilots; see if I can convince one of them to take me up in one of
their 'Shoppers.'"

     "'Shoppers?'" I asked.  "What's that?"

     "Short Hopper.  It's what they call a vehicle that can just make
lunar orbit.  They use them for all sorts of things."

     "If it can make lunar orbit and back, theoretically it could make
it to Earth.  That's no short hop."

     "That's what they call them," she replied, smiling and struggling
on a new set of flight overalls.  "I'll see you later," she said,
kissing my cheek.

     "See ya, K'meh," I said as she disappeared out the door.  I shook
my head, pulled on a set of clean clothes myself, and then spent the
opening session of the day taking notes.  Although I found the medicine
fascinating, especially when the subject of genetics and drift came up,
I was relieved when Commander Scheider invited me for lunch.

     As our lunches were served, Scheider started the conversation with
"So, how do you like our moonbase?"

     "It's nice," I said.  "The food's better than we have on our
starships.  One of the problems with our starting out with an FTL drive.
We didn't bother to work on life support quite so strongly as you did."

     "Yes," Scheider replied.  "Your materials technology specialist has

been taking notes almost nonstop since you arrived.  I must admit that I
find working with your people fascinating."

     "Why is that?"

     "The difference in technology and thrust."  He smiled, slightly
embarrassed.  "As well as the overwhelming evidence of their alien
origin.  If I were dealing with you, I'd have trouble remembering that
you were from another planet.  I can't forget it with them."

     I grinned.  "I can understand that.  I can walk around unnoticed.
Tell me, have you had any complaints from atmospherics life support
regarding fur in the filters?"

     "No," Scheider replied musingly.  "Not that I know of.  Then again,
there are only five of your people around.  Do they shed that much?" he
asked.

     "Not particularly.  I was just making sure they weren't being a
nuisance.  After all, ALS tends to be some rather critical, and
delicate, machinery."

     He nodded as he dug into a rather typical hamburger.  The
conversation was typical and light for the rest of the meal; I was
surprised that he completely avoided the subject of Victoria Stoneman.

 
 
     "Hi," I said, peeking out from the covers as K'meh came tripping
in, light as a feather even in one-sixth gravity.  "K'meh?"

     "Huh?" she asked.  "Oh, you're awake!  I had so much fun today.  We
went lunar buggy riding.  That's insane!  It was incredible!"  She
laughed, and I laughed along with her.  She stripped out of her clothing
and snuggled up against me.  "So, Ken, are you going to keep your end of
the bargain?"

     "What bargain?" I asked.  "I said I wanted a roommate, not backup."

     "You said 'A little bit of both,'" K'meh murmured.  "I think I want
a little bit of the 'up' part," she laughed.  I laughed along with her
and turned over to face her.  "You're in a brutal mood tonight."

     "Oh, brutal," she said, flinging the covers back and grabbing my
still-flaccid penis in her paw and stroking it slowly.  It came to life
pretty quickly under her urging and the moment I was hard she slid down
over it, sliding it deep inside her, cooing loudly.  "Yes..."

     I grabbed her hips and pressed up deep into her.  "Oh, yes," she
gasped against.  My body complained at what I was putting it through,
and every thrust threatened to fling us from the bed in the unfamiliar
gravity, but we held together, her tongue hanging out the side of her
muzzle as we made love passionately, holding onto each other until we
both climaxed loudly.

     She smiled down at me.  "We'll have to do that again."

     "Some other time."  I smiled.  "I'm still trying to get some sleep.

     She snuggled close and wrapped her arm around my back; I shifted
back to get as much contact between us as I could.  I sighed and closed
my eyes.  With a pilot's understanding of the need for sleep, K'meh was
already out, and I managed to fall asleep almost as fast.

--
"Ambassadors"
The Journal Entries of Kennet R'yal Shardik, et. al., And Related Tales
are (c) 1989, 1992 Elf Matheiu Sternberg.  May be freely distributed by
cybernetic media; hardcopies are limited to single printings for
personal use.