Schemes of the Unknown Unknown Ch. 05

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Venus - 3732 C.E.: Beatrice and Laurent separate.
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Part 5 of the 23 part series

Updated 10/24/2022
Created 07/28/2013
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Chapter Five
Venus - 3732 C.E.

The scorching wind that blew sluggishly across the Venusian plain made progress difficult enough for Beatrice, but much worse for Laurent and the others in his team. Although she could have taken the lead, Beatrice tactfully trailed the rest of her crew as they struggled with immense effort in their thick-shelled space suits across fifty metres of dimly lit superheated soil to the crumpled wreckage of the crashed shuttle. It had fallen victim to weather conditions dramatically worse than those anticipated by the meteorological office when it embarked on a routine flight from the Penderecki dome toward the construction site of the new Nabokov dome. Several hundred engineers and architects had been on board and nearly a quarter of them were now dead.

Beatrice had been leading a truly idyllic life on the planet ever since she'd married Laurent and become employed by Venus' Emergency Services. She enjoyed assisting her husband in the daily challenge of saving lives. It assuaged the conscience with which she had been equipped to calculate that she had now saved more lives than were lost as a result of her dramatic arrival seven years earlier.

Life on Venus couldn't really be much better. Her husband was a man who loved her with a passion that truly flattered Beatrice even though it was an emotion she didn't really understand. The considerable satisfaction she got from her vocation wasn't at all diminished by the many unfair advantages she had over her human companions.

She had made many friends and enjoyed the company of many lovers. The former she shared with Laurent and the latter she kept secret from him. Beatrice had only belatedly realised how fundamental monogamy was to human relationships on Venus. Her considerable sexual appetite made it difficult for her to conform to human convention, but for Laurent's benefit she maintained the appearance of fidelity as best she could.

The first year or so of Beatrice's relationship with Laurent was almost as fraught as it was a pleasure. There were so many subtleties to human sexual relationships that Beatrice didn't understand. Chief of these was the expectation of sexual exclusivity that Laurent held in such high regard. It puzzled her at first that Laurent became so upset when Beatrice brought her lovers home with the intention of sharing their bodies with her fiancé. The interminable quarrels with her husband and some independent research convinced her that if she were to stay with Laurent, which she very much wanted to do, she had to practise a policy of deceit for which her training in Proxima Centauri hadn't prepared her.

It was so dark across the Venusian plain that it was only through the monitoring equipment that trundled ahead that the rescue party could determine the extent of the damage to the grounded shuttle. The most seriously compromised sections were beyond hope. Even a small breach in the hull would have resulted in the sudden agonising death of any survivor. Elsewhere, however, the shuttle's emergency systems had attempted to shield the passengers from the fatally adverse weather conditions in a cocoon of inflatable foam. The rescuers' task was essentially to drag these cocoons out from the wreckage and carry them off to safety in the Emergency Services' flying ambulances.

Laurent's crew wasn't the only one called to the accident. Two others were already busy salvaging survivors from the wreckage. There was no way to gain direct access to the victims. That would involve compromising the shuttle's defences which would only serve to admit a lethal combination of crushing air pressure and searing heat. Medical assistance could only be applied once the survivors were safely in a hospital ward. Only robots could handle the sealed cocoons and Beatrice's role was less to apply medical help than to monitor their activity.

"It's fucking carnage!" exclaimed Daphne, the only other woman in Laurent's crew.

Beatrice could only agree. The dead bodies that she examined through the ultrasound viewer in her helmet had lost all human form. What hadn't been burnt to a cinder was crushed flat by the massive air pressure. The deaths might have been rapid, but they would also have been very painful. Burning unbreathable air that was hotter than it was poisonous would have scorched the lungs before the flesh ignited.

Beatrice was exceptional at her job. She was at her best in the more temperate conditions inside the domes where the duty of a rescue mission was to save the lives of those tangled in the wreckage of a systems failure. Emergency surgery was often required to extricate the survivors' bodies before a breach in the hull let in the certainty rather than the mere likelihood of agonising death. Beatrice had no difficulty in disengaging her empathy towards the victims whose limbs she amputated. She also had the physical strength to hold up the collapsing masonry that would otherwise have crushed the unfortunate survivors.

Laurent gave his wife an affectionate kiss when they returned to the Emergency Rescue Station many hours later.

"You were truly wonderful," he said. "As always."

"Thank you," said Beatrice who genuinely appreciated Laurent's praise.

"You're almost superhuman," he continued. "I've never before had the privilege to work with someone so focused on the job and who can think so fast. Only you could have recognised that the pilot's cabin still had people in it. There are at least five people who'd have suffered an agonisingly drawn-out death if it hadn't been for you."

"I was told you were good," said Alfonso, who was a new member of the crew, "but until I saw you in action today I didn't know justhowgood. You were fucking amazing. When the robot failed and you stepped in... That was brilliant. A second longer and the life-support capsule would have plunged to the ground."

"I told you I wasn't exaggerating," said Laurent proudly as he placed an arm round his darling wife.

Much as Beatrice loved her husband's compliments and revelled in the depth and quality of their lovemaking, she was conscious that her harmonious married life wouldn't last forever. This wasn't only because she was unable to restrain her lust. She'd learnt well how to cover her tracks. It was because she was now about to deliberately pursue a lifestyle of blatant infidelity and gross sexual abandon that was specifically designed to rock her marriage asunder.

In fact, her marriage would soon become as wrecked and unsupportable as was the shuttle that had been carrying a crew of engineers and architects when its systems failed.

It wasn't because her sexual desires exceeded what any man could possibly satisfy that this had to be done. Beatrice's career in the Emergency Services might be rewarding, but that wasn't the duty that was her highest priority.

It wasn't long after she first arrived on Venus that she first made contact with Proxima Centauri Intelligence Services. This wasn't in person, although there were at least a dozen other agents on Venus, but through communication channels so highly encrypted that no human had even identified them as such. The receiver and transmitter she used were embedded deep inside her skull.

Her assignment was fairly routine to begin with. She was there simply to monitor and observe. Proxima Centauri couldn't rely on communication intercepts alone to research and study human society. Such information could never be as comprehensive as that gathered on the ground, even though Beatrice's reports were never much more than an upload of the sensory data she gathered simply by leading an outwardly normal life. Sometimes she was required to enter certain chambers or to speak to specific individuals, but generally all she had to was lead as ordinary a life on the planet as it was possible for an android to do.

It was also of paramount importance that an agent's activities should not attract any suspicion, as this would necessitate the mission's immediate termination. This was exactly what had happened to the cover of a Proxima Centauri agent on Ecstasy. Even the slightest suggestion that an agent was not quite what he or she seemed could endanger not only that operative's mission but that of all agents in the Solar System. It was imperative that humans should never learn about the alien presence that was so much in their midst.

As Beatrice's profile was well suited for a mission to Ecstasy, it was decided that she should now relocate her operations and proceed to the outer Solar System. But first she had to make her motive for departing Venus seem verifiably plausible.

Beatrice reasoned that the emotional upset resulting from the messy break-up of a previously idyllic marriage provided good cover. Since infidelity was the most common reason for such a rupture, Beatrice decided that she need no longer hide her many indiscretions from her husband.

"I just can't understand it!" sobbed Laurent when he discovered Beatrice in their bed with Daphne. His colleague fled in acute embarrassment as a trail of vaginal fluid dripped down her pale freckled legs. "I thought you were a changed woman. What have I done to deserve this?"

Of course the answer was that he didn't deserve it at all. He'd been an exemplary husband. He was still, despite everything, extraordinarily forgiving and understanding. But this couldn't be allowed to stand in Beatrice's way even if she did go through the motions of trying to achieve a kind of reconciliation with her devoted husband.

There was a sense in which Beatrice enjoyed every moment of her campaign of open infidelity even though it pained her to see the anguish it caused Laurent. After the tragic death of his first wife, he thought that he could at last let her memories rest in peace. However, he was certain that Magdalene would never flirt so openly with Alfonso. Beatrice even had an affair with Manfred, who was the only member of Laurent's crew still in active service from the fateful day when Beatrice was rescued.

Daphne was Beatrice's favourite lover. Her exquisite pale skin was liberally sprinkled with freckles. Her long red hair cascaded over her shoulders and had a faintly straw-like smell that enchanted Beatrice when she buried her nose inside. She would bring her lover to a choking vocal orgasm during which her juices squirted over Beatrice's cheeks. Her fingers and tongue probed deeply into Beatrice's shaven pubes. The couple pressed their crotches against each other in tribadic ecstasy. Daphne's perspiration dripped onto Beatrice's thighs which she licked off in an expression of worshipful devotion.

"This issowrong," said Daphne. "I love you. But Laurent does too. I shouldn't be doing this."

"Don't be silly," said Beatrice. "And anyway you're not my only lover."

"I know. I know," said Daphne sadly. "Alfonso. Manfred. It's not right, you know. We work together. We can'tallbe rivals in love. Manfred got really upset when he learnt that Alfonso's been fucking you too. I didn't want to tell him that I was sharing your bed too."

"I don't know what's so wrong about that," said Beatrice.

"If you were like most women—or men for that matter—I wouldn't believe that," said Daphne reflectively as she lay on one side. "Butyou? I don't know. I reallydobelieve that you don't find anything wrong with it. If my wife knew I was fucking another woman, she'd divorce me straight away. She's a jealous cow."

"But you love her, don't you?" asked Beatrice in genuine fascination. "And you love me too. What's wrong with loving more than one person?"

"It just won't work," said Daphne. "If you can't trust your lover to be faithful, what else can't you trust? Anyway, although Idolove Helga I'm jealous of you too. It pains me to think of Alfonso's hairy prick inside you. I'm even jealous of Laurent, however much I respect him and don't want to ruin his marriage."

But ruined Laurent's marriage most definitely was. After he found Beatrice in bed with Daphne, he soon discovered many other unpalatable signs of his wife's insatiable infidelity. It wasn't just the little things, like the love-bite on Beatrice's thigh; or the smell of another man's perfume on her clothes; or the lovelorn gazes coming from both Alfonso and Manfred.

He now knew that Daphne was making love to his wife. There was also Nikolai, the man who lived just two houses away in the tree-lined avenue where he lived, who Laurent caught ejaculating into his wife's mouth. Beatrice didn't even bother to wipe the semen away after Laurent scared Nikolai off with the most ferocious vocal outburst of his life. There was Hernandez the geologist who was one of the few other people who habitually worked outside the domes' protective shields. And then, still with the agonised memory of Hernandez's humping arse between his wife's legs, there was also Lamin, Pierre, Hua, Barbara and Francisco.

Laurent struggled to accommodate Beatrice's blatant infidelities in his life. He slept in one room, most often by himself, whilst his wife slept in another room and, rather noisily and openly, never by herself.

Just how did Beatrice find these men and women, and not always singly, that joined her beneath the sheets? Even Laurent's wild life as a single man before he married Magdalene had never been remotely as promiscuous as Beatrice's. The memories of that hedonistic youth—where he'd once even participated in an orgy—were why Laurent reluctantly tolerated his wife's unquenchable lust, but his tolerance was steadily waning.

As a firefighter, Beatrice was no less professional than before. She happily volunteered for those distressing duties that most of her colleagues shied away from. But whenever Laurent saw his wife, whether at work and at home, he was forever reminded of the unhappiness that dogged his every waking hour and made his sleep at best fitful. It exasperated even the psychoanalyst whose advice he desperately sought.

"I know you love your wife," the therapist said sympathetically, "but you can't put up with her daily blatant humiliation for ever. It's obvious from your profile that you aren't a masochist, so there's no realistic way you can adjust to this unfortunate turn in your relationship."

No reconciliation seemed possible when Laurent and Beatrice visited the marriage counsellor. Not only was Beatrice dressed as scantily as a woman could be without being naked, there was even a smudge of semen on her brow that had congealed on a strand of hair.

"I can't put it more forcefully than this, Beatrice," said Doctor Ferencz. "Either you change your current licentiousness lifestyle or your marriage will fail. I recommend that you separate, at least for a while, to give the two of you the space in which you can decide whether your marriage is worth saving. I have to say that I've never seen such provocative promiscuity in all my life. Most relationships can survive the odd episode of infidelity, but your behaviour is way beyond the norm."

Despite the marriage counsellor's advice, Laurent was even now reluctant to separate. This was mostly because although Beatrice was openly promiscuous she still found the time and, more surprisingly, the energy to satisfy her husband's lust.

Laurent was determined to confront his wife with an ultimatum when the couple returned home after their shift. This was even though Beatrice had just saved the life of three young children who'd been trapped in a lift shaft enveloped by a fire that had forced its way through a hairline fracture in the dome. Instead of a confrontation, however, Laurent was once again seduced by Beatrice. She urgently unbelted his trousers and plunged her mouth onto his almost immediately erect penis. This was followed by a session of lovemaking that left Laurent's testicles aching and his penis drained.

"This can't go on, Beatrice," said Laurent at last when the two of them finally lay together naked on the sofa. "We can't continue to live under the same roof any longer."

"I love you," said Beatrice. "I'm sure we can work it out."

"It's not going to happen," said Laurent. "You've said the same thing so many times before. I've taken a lease on an apartment in another part of the city. I shall be moving out tomorrow."

Beatrice shed tears of bitter regret and recrimination which had its intended result of making it seem that she was truly sorry for having allowed her lust to imperil their marriage. In truth, she was pleased that she'd orchestrated events so well. Laurent left within the week and Beatrice handed in her notice at the Emergency Rescue Services.

She then traced Laurent to his new apartment and persuaded him to exchange his rented apartment for his old home.

"It's not right that you should leave the home where you've lived for so many years," said Beatrice after the passionate sex that inevitably occurred. "I'm the one at fault. Not you. I'll stay here and you can return to your memories of Magdalene. She was a much better wife for you than I've ever been."

This was true in so many ways but Laurent had never known such passionate sex with his deceased wife as he had with Beatrice. He was disconsolate that the lovemaking he'd just enjoyed with Beatrice might well be the last he'd ever know.

Beatrice continued to live in her new flat. She was unemployed but also extraordinarily well provided for by the proceeds of an extremely smooth divorce and the pension provided by Venus' Emergency Services. And she was far from alone. As she now had no need for restraint in her amorous affairs, she certainly observed none.

"Laurent is still distraught," said Daphne, still one of Beatrice's lovers, when they met at a nearby ornamental garden. "He busies himself in his work, but none of us are as capable as you were and he still remarks about that."

Beatrice sighed.

"I miss him too," she said and let a small tear dribble down her cheek.

Although Beatrice exaggerated her feelings for effect, there was truth to her statement. Shehadloved Laurent as much as an android was capable. She would gladly exchange her duties in the services of Proxima Centauri for a lifetime of connubial bliss with a man so generous, kind and sincere. She regretted leaving her husband, but she had no choice. The expense of transporting her across four light years of empty space hadn't been for the sole benefit of Beatrice's domestic happiness.

She scanned the lawns that spread towards the squat buildings that lined the garden's perimeter and where the dome's ceiling brushed close to their roofs.

She would miss Venus. The gravity inside the domes was much like that on Earth and the artificial atmosphere was as pleasant as any she could wish for. The Venusians had sacrificed so many lives to make habitable a planet where the air was poisonous and hot enough to melt lead. On the other hand, Venus was also a beautiful planet. There were mountains capped with frozen metal and lakes of molten iron. If only it were possible to see this more clearly through the thick sulphurous air.

"Not here!" laughed Daphne as Beatrice's hand crept up her thigh and tickled the labia majora under her scanty shorts. "People are watching. You reallyareinsatiable."

Beatrice placed her lips on Daphne's. "Where then?" she whispered playfully.

The two women rushed to Beatrice's apartment which was on the fourth and top floor of the block that overlooked the gardens and in which was installed a small fountain and ornamental pond. And where also, as Daphne was initially rather less delighted to discover, a black woman was still resting in Beatrice's bed after their shared passion of the previous night.

Beatrice knew her two female lovers well and persuaded them to make love together to which she contributed far more than her fair share. Daphne bathed not only Beatrice but also her black lover with the juice of orgasmic pleasure.

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