on a look of undifferentiated protoplasmic jelly.
I saw furry lips pressed against my visor, then a rough tongue scratched across the surface as the airbear tasted lingering traces of elemental oxygen. I didn’t dare move. Let the creature get settled, I said to myself. To the others: “Don’t come any closer, meat. And no sudden moves, please. I don’t want to be smeared into pulp.” Not that I had to worry about the others getting too close. They knew there probably were more airbears overhead. No one was anxious to be in my predicament. And if they were too close when my airbear detonated, they’d suffer the same fate as me.
I was desperately trying to devise a plan that would gently extricate myself from the bear’s hug, when I saw movement at the edge of vision. Someone was coming toward me.
“Stay clear, frog it!” I said as emphatically as I dared. They said even voice vibrations could spook an airbear. But I took the chance and vocalized anyway; it wasn’t any fun to curse silently.
“Hold still,” came a voice in my mind, “I know what I’m doing.” I recognized that voice right away. I’d been remembering snatches of conversation all day.
Peppardine approached slowly, walking with barely perceptible steps. Despite my situation, I almost had another testosterone storm. Combat armor fit skintight. Hers did her body credit–smooth musculature, firm belly, taut breasts, long, supple legs. She moved with lithe grace–they must have used considerable feline DNA in her xenogene complement. After what seemed like a long, hot summer on the bright side of Mercury, the chimera stood beside me.
I realized I was holding my breath. I let it out slowly. Water misted on the oxygen bubble surrounding my nose and mouth. I saw my face reflected from the inside of my visor; sweat beaded from my forehead.
The airbear began to suckle on my visor.
I sure as Akron hoped the chimera knew what she was doing.
She did.
Peppardine stood behind me, moving in close enough for our bodies to touch. Even through two layers of combat armor, I felt her nipples brush against my back and her pelvis press into my buttocks. She reached around carefully with both arms. I saw a curved claw slide out of a finger. A blue drop of liquid clung to its tip.
I knew her helmet visor was thrown back. She had little need for artificial sensors. The viper pit organs in her eyebrows scanned the bear, outlining the warmer tracks where blood flowed in vessels beneath its skin. Her claw neared the bear’s arm, smoothly passed through its fur, and slipped beneath skin to pierce a vein. So sharp were her claws, the bear never felt the prick in its skin. Neuropeptide coursed like blue fire into its bloodstream. I watched with fascination; the peptides carried by Peppardine’s claws had been the subject of several hours’ speculative fantasy by me. I wondered if the airbear felt the same euphoria I would have. I decided it did; its neurophysiology had not been significantly modified. The overdose of endorphine quickly went to the airbear’s brain; its grip weakened, then relaxed. It floated face up in the air beside me. The chimera came around and held it gently between her hands. Her claws had retracted.
“Though unconscious from endorphine,” she said, “it could still reflexively discharge its spark.” She pulled the lax body lower, gently, bringing its face close to hers. Its eyes stared wide open. The chimera pursed her lips. She nodded her head. A glob of blue spit formed on her lips, hung for a moment, then dropped like a sapphire tear. The droplet seemed to hesitate as it hit her oxygen bubble’s surface-effect membrane, but only flattened a little, then passed through. It splattered into the bear’s eye, spreading into a blue film to cover the conjunctiva. The bear’s fur shook briefly with fasciculations, then was still. Legs hung limp from the body. Oxygen bladders hung suspended over the body.
“Endolepsin laces my
I saw furry lips pressed against my visor, then a rough tongue scratched across the surface as the airbear tasted lingering traces of elemental oxygen. I didn’t dare move. Let the creature get settled, I said to myself. To the others: “Don’t come any closer, meat. And no sudden moves, please. I don’t want to be smeared into pulp.” Not that I had to worry about the others getting too close. They knew there probably were more airbears overhead. No one was anxious to be in my predicament. And if they were too close when my airbear detonated, they’d suffer the same fate as me.
I was desperately trying to devise a plan that would gently extricate myself from the bear’s hug, when I saw movement at the edge of vision. Someone was coming toward me.
“Stay clear, frog it!” I said as emphatically as I dared. They said even voice vibrations could spook an airbear. But I took the chance and vocalized anyway; it wasn’t any fun to curse silently.
“Hold still,” came a voice in my mind, “I know what I’m doing.” I recognized that voice right away. I’d been remembering snatches of conversation all day.
Peppardine approached slowly, walking with barely perceptible steps. Despite my situation, I almost had another testosterone storm. Combat armor fit skintight. Hers did her body credit–smooth musculature, firm belly, taut breasts, long, supple legs. She moved with lithe grace–they must have used considerable feline DNA in her xenogene complement. After what seemed like a long, hot summer on the bright side of Mercury, the chimera stood beside me.
I realized I was holding my breath. I let it out slowly. Water misted on the oxygen bubble surrounding my nose and mouth. I saw my face reflected from the inside of my visor; sweat beaded from my forehead.
The airbear began to suckle on my visor.
I sure as Akron hoped the chimera knew what she was doing.
She did.
Peppardine stood behind me, moving in close enough for our bodies to touch. Even through two layers of combat armor, I felt her nipples brush against my back and her pelvis press into my buttocks. She reached around carefully with both arms. I saw a curved claw slide out of a finger. A blue drop of liquid clung to its tip.
I knew her helmet visor was thrown back. She had little need for artificial sensors. The viper pit organs in her eyebrows scanned the bear, outlining the warmer tracks where blood flowed in vessels beneath its skin. Her claw neared the bear’s arm, smoothly passed through its fur, and slipped beneath skin to pierce a vein. So sharp were her claws, the bear never felt the prick in its skin. Neuropeptide coursed like blue fire into its bloodstream. I watched with fascination; the peptides carried by Peppardine’s claws had been the subject of several hours’ speculative fantasy by me. I wondered if the airbear felt the same euphoria I would have. I decided it did; its neurophysiology had not been significantly modified. The overdose of endorphine quickly went to the airbear’s brain; its grip weakened, then relaxed. It floated face up in the air beside me. The chimera came around and held it gently between her hands. Her claws had retracted.
“Though unconscious from endorphine,” she said, “it could still reflexively discharge its spark.” She pulled the lax body lower, gently, bringing its face close to hers. Its eyes stared wide open. The chimera pursed her lips. She nodded her head. A glob of blue spit formed on her lips, hung for a moment, then dropped like a sapphire tear. The droplet seemed to hesitate as it hit her oxygen bubble’s surface-effect membrane, but only flattened a little, then passed through. It splattered into the bear’s eye, spreading into a blue film to cover the conjunctiva. The bear’s fur shook briefly with fasciculations, then was still. Legs hung limp from the body. Oxygen bladders hung suspended over the body.
“Endolepsin laces my
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