Part 16 (1/2)
”I'm not talking abour rape.” Shemsi's eyes gleamed. ”What do you know about aphrodizzies?”
”s.e.xciters? Like-Eros? Breeder's Friend?”
”Right! I slipped one into her drink tonight while we ate. It'll hit her now, any min. When it does she'll go crazy for s.e.x. She'll have to have a man, and you're the one who's there. She'll give you a ride to make your bones ache! You'll be lucky if you can walk after that tryst!”
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The excitement was back in Gelor's belly, and stirring him lower. It was all he could do to keep from quivering. DeyMeox!
He admitted it now. The crober genius was the woman he had ached for, day after day in this decaying old palace. Ached for her because he couldn't have her. And now he could. With her wild with pa.s.sion, more than willing because Shemsi had slipped her an aphrodizzy, What did that matter? It would still be DeyMeox's body, her gasps and sobs, her writhing and spasms. Her need, for him. For that, his plan could be held in abeyance for a while . . .
Except . . . Except that suspicion was all at once a heaviness in him. He locked his gaze on Shemsi. ”Why so eager to do me favors, Shemsi?”
”Do you f-I'm not! I don't care a jinkle about your pleasure! You might as well be a stray grat off the street, for all I care. You-you're a double-dyed villain, Gelor, a certified card-carrying member of s.a.d.i.s.t b.a.s.t.a.r.ds Unanimous, surely! No, no-it's that DeyMeox b.i.t.c.h I'm after!” She stepped closer and clutched Gelor's quivering arm. (It wanted to hit her.) ”Her High Majesty will remember this in the morning, all of it!”
No, she won't, Gelor managed to think, through his rising excitement. Neither of you will remember anything, because neither of you will awake in the morning, you abusive little sourcake!
”She'll wake up knowing that she soared with you like a mare in heat, even though you turn her stomach,” Shemsi went on with some relish. ”Any time she forgets, I'll be there to remind her. Every hour of every day I'll stick her with it, till she's ready to slash her wrists!” She paused, breathing fast, her color high. ”Well? Do you want her or don't you?”
Gelor's voice was hoa.r.s.e: ” I want her.”
”This way then!” Shemsi bustled him back to the other cell. She clutched his arm while he shakily unlocked the door. ”I'm coming in too, Gelor. I want to listen; see her get it-and love it!” Her voice was as raw as his.
Together, they entered and paused in the small, very 159.
dark room. In the stillness, Gelor could hear the sound of the crober's breathing. It came fast and shallow, as if DeyMeox were on the verge of panting.
Shemsi's whisper gloated: ”She's ready. The s.e.xciter's. .h.i.t her!” She suddenly shoved him forward, almost violently. ”Take her, take her, you thrice-cursed son of a b.a.s.t.a.r.d jinni! Take the high-and-mighty b.i.t.c.h and slice 'er till her eyeb.a.l.l.s fall out!”
Gelor stumbled into blackness, groping. He found a bare, supine leg that twitched. Found a body open and hunching to receive him. The jumpsuit was gone. She was naked and ignited. He strove to get his robe out of the way while strong legs tried to lock around him. The body beneath his writhed, humped at him until he grunted with pain. He got the robe out of the way. Her excitement heightened his. High and hard, he sought and found in the darkness, and their gasping grunt of penetration rose loudly in unison. He did not have to slam himself home in her; she was lunging up with her body and dragging at him with both arms and legs.
The moments that followed were an explosive turbulence of flesh and l.u.s.t. The odor of s.e.xuality and joined groins arose in the dark cell, mingling with the scent of sweat. Gelor's mind blurred as he surged against her surging body and into it. DeyMeox's body, DeyMeox, DeyMeox's . . , G.o.d, the delicious obscenity of the wet slapping sounds they made! His body convulsed as in a seizure. Dimly he heard voices crying out throatily: Hers: ”I'm dying! I'm dy-inng! I can't wait. Quick, quick-ahhh-''
And Shemsi's: ”That's it, you sickofobber! Ram it to her! Ream the wh.o.r.eb.i.t.c.hmare!”
He did. He rode and pounded, having to fight her clamping legs so he could move, realizing that she seemed anxious to have her b.r.e.a.s.t.s crushed out of shape beneath him. He felt the clawing of pa.s.sion at his back and was glad the robe protected him from b.l.o.o.d.y scratches. He pounded, sluiced in and out of her. He bellowed out his climax and kept on pumping until she shrieked. Both of 160.
them were shuddering violently. He hurt, and right now he couldn't give a d.a.m.n. What better hurt could there be? DeyMeox!
The clutching hands relaxed their grasp of pa.s.sion. The straining arms softened and the legs slithered down on either side of his. Numb and shaking, he moved. His withdrawal from her inundated stash was accompanied by another obscene slosh-sucking sound. He rolled over, almost falling off her bunk onto the floor. Lurching to his feet, he groped his way doorward. Just to his right, Shemsi's voice spoke again, sounding hollow now to his staggery perceptions: ”Wonderful! Wonderful! You can walk! And you haven't the voice for any thanks to me, you handsome b.a.s.t.a.r.d stud of a double-dyed monster?”
”I-have-thanks for you,” he gritted, squinting in darkness. ”For all the things you've been calling me- here's my-thanks!”
His right arm swung out and around to smash her face--and he nearly fell. She was not there; must have ducked. Stumbling, he cursed and went on. Then he was out the door and into the pa.s.sage. With both Shemsi and DeyMeox in the one cell. Good!
A panting Gelor was just strong enough to slam the cell-door and bolt it. He reached up to the niche that held the ventilation duct, already prepared. Tremulous fingers twisted open the valves of the minitanks that held monocyan gas. He could just hear the gentle, almost delicate ssss of gas forced into the duct, into the cell. At last he had possessed the so-brainy DeyMeox. Now he'd at last pay off Shemsi, too. Now ... the Final Solution to the problem of his two slaves.
Hissing faint as a lost whisper, the deadly gas streamed into the cell.
Gelor s.h.i.+vered. It was a s.h.i.+ver of release, of relief. Just what he needed to clear his brain in preparation for the climax of his duel with a corporation equally as treacherous as he. Now for the final step of his brilliant climb toward wealth and the power bought by wealth.
He managed a chuckle. ”Double-dyed and card-carrying 161.
villain, am I? Yes! And I'll beat the corporate villains, too!”
He left the old dungeon that was now the execution chamber of the two who had made his plan reality. The charter carrier came first. He contracted for it by remote comm and ordered it to a locked slot up on Jasbirstation.
He sealed the Bleaker dupfadroid, the converted cal-culator/comtrol box, and the two-step canisters of Terato-genesis Six in standard s.h.i.+pping cases. Those he sent up to the s.p.a.ce station's freight ramp. They were marked to be picked up by a nonexistent Dhofar Ishutin.
Well attired in grays, he took the shuttle up to Jasbirstation.
There he paged the pilot a.s.signed to the carrier: one Rafi. Gelor had Rafi pick up the cases in Ishutin's name and bring them to the carrier's private c.o.c.king berth. Of course that meant Rafi must die, since he could link Gelor to the cases. . . . Well, Gelor was working on a fine big omelet, and he awaited the pilot-turned stevedore. One more egg.
A single stroke of the spring-thing attended to that unthrilling and necessary killing. He even tucked Rafi's raffish jacket under his head to catch the blood from his crushed face and mouth. Then Gelor uncrated the droid, calculator, and canisters. Gingerly, he piloted the carrier himself. Rafi's helmet and standard miss s.p.a.cesuit barely fitted him.
He swept out to the off-satellite location where CongCorp was to deliver the System Speeder s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p.
It arrived, brought piggyback and left hanging in s.p.a.ce, as he had instructed. He nudged the carrier over, failed twice, b.u.mping the other craft, and smiled when he had locked the two s.h.i.+ps together with EM grapples. He double-checked his s.p.a.cesuit, took a deep breath of canned air, and boarded the bigger speedcraft. When he found the loot and checked it, he went shaky again.
It was as specified. An absolute fortune. Gelor's knees gave way and he sat down suddenly, bouncing a little in freefall.
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Knowing that he had to get up and go on, he did. ”Swimming” through the silent s.h.i.+p with stopper in hand. No need; it was empty. Here was the special compartment, with its hatch designed to separate the T6 canisters from the rest of the System Speeder. No contact would be necessary between the s.h.i.+p's supposed pilot and whoever picked up the toxin.
Helmet off in the s.h.i.+p's good air, Gelor installed the simulacrum droid and his special calculator. The late Rafi replaced the dupladroid in the case. Gelor saw to it that all semblance of address and instructions were charred off the big crate. HOLD FOR CONGCORP PICKUP, he marked it clearly, and with a sigh he looked around. Oh. He repro-grammed s.h.i.+p's computer.
Done! He donned the helmet, clamped it, checked its seals and used the suit's air to check for leaks. All secure. He pushed the crate back to the carrier. Cutting the electromagnetic field, he let carrier and s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p have plenty of time to drift apart, despite his anxiousness to be away from here. At last he powered up, executed a long curve, and returned to the wheel.
The suit he left in its slot on the carrier. The crate he eased down and abandoned for a stevedore to find and store. Gelor ducked into the scanning room. Everything had gone so smoothly!-so far.
It continued smooth. He watched a carrier (CongCorp's testers, of course) peel off from the old XN-sat. It eased out to the speeder and locked onto the T6 hold. Gelor grinned. Obviously the company a.n.a.lysis had accepted the T6 and CongCorp bra.s.s had decided to go through with the pickup; the trade.
The System Speeder's SIPAc.u.m actuated the comm-screen. Shock and horror!
A man leered out across all grids, onto all screens. A monster of a man. His was a terrifying face, hideously scarred, with a single rolling, glaring eye. The other was an electroptic, opaque and flaming red.
”Done then, you b.a.s.t.a.r.ds, and see me now!” he snarl-shouted in a voice no prettier than he. ”See me and know 163.
you've dealt with Dravan of Bleak-Dravan the Marked! Back from the dead to carve a new life in your blood! Get away from my s.h.i.+p you b.a.s.t.a.r.d grats! Cross me at your peril!''
A mean laugh erupted from the awful face, and an armored Bleaker glove rose and thrust forth in wordless threat. Gelor's grin died and he shuddered in spite of himself. Oh, Shemsi-the late Shemsi-had done her work well!
And CongCorp had something to think about. So did those on the company carrier. It parted from the System Speeder with alacrity-while Gelor sagged back in his scanning seat. Even with elation soaring in him, he was breathing hard. So many things might have gone wrong! Dupladroid programming had its limits, and ... but the real test-moment was still to come.
Now the System Speeder powered. It moved. Sec by sec, its velocity increased. As per plan and programming, it swung off in a wide loop. That course would ultimately carry it out between the star of Ghanj and those of the Tri-System Accord-if continued. Gelor grinned tightly. That course would not be continued.