Adrift in Space

He'd found much but nowhere near all of it. And there was some that concerned him. But if he told Anna, she'd know what he'd done. But if some was what he thought, she needed to know.

He needed to be certain.

"To the Queen," he said and they tapped glasses, "long may she fuck."

"Ah, about fucking," and he knew her tone this time was wistful although a human hearing it fresh would've taken it as anger, "but that, on that, I... have another requesht, a favor, to ask of you."

He didn't hide his reaction, used his genuine surprise as cover. Then he realized Anna's gaze had shifted. His printed clothes were soft and fit well, not loose like the early weeks. But they were indeed soft and yielding. He realized his prick was suddenly and fully erect, its shape clearly outlined including the head.

"I am plaeshed at your reaction, Paetor," her smile stayed wide and her gaze remained while he shifted his legs slightly but didn't know whether to cover himself. Her eyes lifted and he locked onto those oval grey and green orbs without whites. Her large port wine stain seemed to ripple with color.

He realized that his erection was so hard it was painful. His breathing was rough.

So was Anna's, he realized. Both sets of forearms rested on the arms of their chairs. Unusually she was in clothes similar to his, not the sari-like wraps she favored. Her legs were pressed together and her thighs rubbed slowly.

"No... it ish...," her voice wavered, "not... no. I will ashk of you, shomethaing elsse. But not time... After... Carole."

As if in a mirror two glasses rose to two mouths in slightly shaky hands.

Anna Squared

[January 1984]

Peter looked around his new quarters. Anna hadn't been as direct as she'd implied she'd be about Carole moving, although his memory of that discussion had remained fuzzy as he'd been blitzed by the end. Carole had been out that day until near dinner time and he'd slept much of that time and he'd been bleary-eyed with a hangover headache when she'd returned but she'd not said a word about his state. But he'd read her expression, that she knew his state was thanks to Queen Anna. Despite that they'd met Angie for dinner and she'd had along another of her near-twins she introduced as Vanessa who was the first changeling they'd met with a definite red tint to her brown hair. Like Angie her voice was oddly flat but otherwise her accent passably American.

They'd been joined by another human, a seemingly forty-something woman Carole worked with named Liz who'd never admitted her age and generally refused to discuss her past. In Peter's experience she'd always been friendly if a bit guarded but questions about her life before the satellite sent her into sullen silence.

Peter had learned long ago that Angie and the other changelings almost exclusively had human digestive systems and dinner was delicious lab-grown steaks with not a live slug in view. Although he'd never cooked professionally his skills meant they'd quickly agreed to his offer to do shifts in the kitchen but even with that exposure he had difficulty seeing differences between 'beef' meant for humans or for Sylvans. Fortunately, packaging was distinct and confusion was rare. Even more fortunately the 'wrong' food wasn't poisonous but definitely led to a couple of days of digestive issues.

Beyond that, he'd found over time both humans and Sylvans were omnivores although the Sylvans had switched to 'lab grown' protein almost a millennia before Anna's expedition had left their planet over two centuries earlier and what the labs put out Peter found almost perfect matches to anything his memory could recall. Peter's one success at his windmills was when he'd found mention of an Earth company looking into growing proteins and Anna had agreed they'd feed 'hints' to them to push the technology. The aliens didn't object on ethical grounds to humans growing and slaughtering animals but they found it wasteful of resources and Peter had convinced Anna they could help feed millions and once Carole and Liz worked out how to eventually reveal the source of the technology they'd have a step up to be accepted. The kitchen manager, a Sylvan whose name sounded something like 'Gerowleph' and who went by 'Geoff with a G' had told Peter the lab boys were close to foods that humans and Sylvans could both eat and they'd be testing them early in the new year.

Carole's mood had been light and jaunty and Peter's headache had cleared with the good food. Back in their quarters his and Carole's lovemaking had been slow and long lasting.

And an utter surprise. Although their sexual pace had slowed by only a couple of degrees, the intensity had definitely lessened and it was sometimes even mechanical, a retreat into the one element of normalcy they truly had.

Carole had never implied she'd felt Peter and the Queen had an actual physical relationship despite the alien's suggestion he'd passed along after that first meeting. But it hadn't mattered all that much. Peter's feelings for her were deep, although he couldn't really name them, and that had shown through.

All of that was bad. But the real key had been Peter moving quickly from enforced acceptance of their fate to willing collaboration, at least in Carole's mind. It wasn't unfair. The computer technology he'd been introduced to had been everything he and his research group had dreamed of. That these 'paeple' who'd developed such technology had expected him to push their knowledge forward had been a surprise.

That he'd succeeded had locked in his enthusiasm.

By the middle of the week after his meeting, Peter wondered if it had happened. His and Carole's sex life had been reenergised and it hadn't slowed when the invitation came to have dinner with Anna on the coming Friday night, two weeks before Christmas. Human holidays varied among those brought up from different countries but almost all recognised Christmas and a big party was as usual in the works as the interstellar travellers had likewise adopted it. Carole and Anna had met only a few times before, at his birthday party and the two previous Christmas parties. Each time they'd warily greeted each other but had otherwise avoided contact.

"Queen Anna," Carole had said evenly as she'd looked around what would pass for an upscale and intimate restaurant on Earth before meeting the seated female's mismatched eyes, "this place is a bit nicer than our cafeteria."

"Carole, Paetor," she gestured to the other two chairs at her table, "ssit down, plaeash."

Carole's glances at the other Sylvans had been hard but the coffee serving Kim had handled serving duties and the nearest couple of tables had been left empty. Other tables had alien servers but Anna told them like their local place the kitchen staff was both species. Peter had seen two other humans among the score of diners, he'd met one, a materials engineer.

The other was an attractive woman, not quite Kim's height. The shock was her long hair, obviously dyed as it was cream white but she couldn't have been more than the mid-twenties. Carole's and Anna's attentions stayed locked on each other so he doubted they'd even seen her. In a sudden lull in conversation between his dinner companions, he thought he'd detected a hint of Valley Scandihoovian in her voice that was at the edge of audibility. If so, no one he'd ever met. Regular interactions allowed him to recognize individual Sylvans but he couldn't recall memory of either of the two males with her, both about what he'd think of as thirty or so. That meant they were the oldest of the generations born on the interstellar ship after everyone had been awakened and was on final approach to the solar system.

"Another satellite?" Carole's voice had been low when Peter's mind snapped back from the mystery from the nearby table. What had Anna actually said? He forced himself to stay still.

"Angie will shtaey here, but Vanesha will be going with you," Anna continued, "and your friend Lizsh. There are more changelaings and humansh, not sho manay of 'ush.' Laike mae."

Peter tried to hide his wince as he heard a soft version of Anna's challenge sound, something like a grunt but slower, more visceral, verbal without being words. Carole's mouth quirked at it into a tight smile. Peter looked at Anna then at Carole as they held eyes, he didn't know what Carole might've discussed with Angie and Liz and others but he felt she'd understood Anna's sound, the meaning. She'd refused to watch any of the 'home movies' Anna had given him beyond a few stills that were mainly very Earth-like landscapes. The human woman took a long, slow drink of her wine, something red and from California but Peter had remembered little more than that and the fact it was very good. Unlike coffee, the assemblers could match mediocre wine from Earth but this was well past that. And like coffee and whisky, most Sylvans could drink Earth's wine and it was popular enough that Anna imposed limits to avoid it taking too much space on their secret shipments.

Carole set her glass down but drummed her fingers on the stem for a moment before she spoke.

"When?"

"After Chrishtmash, manae will be shwitching. Your work there, more tech here."

Maybe that explained the newcomers at that other table ran through Peter's mind.

"This is what you haven't told me," Carole looked at Peter, his expression admitted as much, "but I also know it wasn't your idea."

She leaned against his shoulder and took his hand and closed her eyes for a moment before she opened them and looked at Anna and sat straight but kept Peter's hand.

"I don't envy you, Queen Anna, the decisions you have to make. I... still don't know if I BELIEVE your story of your home world..."

Anna sipped her wine, nodded at Carole's point but stayed silent.

"But this one believes you," she lifted Peter's hand with hers, kept her grip, "and he's the smartest man I've ever known."

"He ish indaed shmart," Anna said lightly.

"And he's probably the best fuck on this boat," Carole's voice pitched low and slow, "and probably tired of me not giving up my ass. Like that Jayne whore of yours did."

Peter exhaled hard but Anna and Carole both let out snorted laughs.

"He doesn't WANT me to go," Carole said softly, she tightened her grip, "but he NEEDS me to go. And... I... need to go. For a while..."

She looked at Anna, who sipped her wine and maintained her silence.

"I've been your succubus for a long time, Anna, even if I didn't know that's what I was. And if you won't let me go back to Earth," she paused and Anna smiled tightly and her head shook barely perceptively, "then I'll go as far as I can. One of these days..."

She stopped and pulled Peter's hand to her mouth and kissed it, he leaned into her.

"Maybe things will be normal again."

"Wae can hope."

Peter felt Carole's head turn and moved to meet her and leaned down and kissed her slowly. Both sets of eyes held tears but also acceptance.

Peter had asked for new quarters once Carole had left the first week of January. He'd expected something smaller and had steeled himself to lose his views so it was a surprise when Angie had led him to the opposite side of the satellite and into a similar, two room unit with a bath and windows. He set the hand truck with his few boxes of personal possessions upright.

"Uh, hey... I like it, but... this big, just for me..."

"You'll have to ask Queen Anna," Angie shrugged as she walked into the bedroom to hang up the armload of his clothes she'd carried.

She stood near the door as he pushed the boxes off of the hand truck then manoeuvred it to her.

"Thanks for the help, Angie, Laurel or Hardy would've been nice, get them to do some honest work."

Dark hair shook as the young woman laughed at that. He'd seen her looks, she was as leery of those strange beings as he was. He'd long been allowed unescorted access to many sections of the ship so he didn't see them constantly but they were around. His digging around databases he'd found once past access limits indicated there weren't more than thirty or so across the three satellites and on Earth. As with the changelings they were a creation of Queen Anna and her biologists from her people as root stock. Like humans, convergent evolution had led Sylvans to also trade a level of strength for intelligence and similar atmospheres and gravity meant the two peoples were roughly equivalent in native muscle power. The guards traded analytic intelligence to get back extreme bulk and strength but there were exceptions, like the Laurel and Hardy pair who'd kidnapped him and Carole. As a result, that pair was near unique in Anna trusting them to be on Earth without being directly accompanied by a Sylvan or a changeling.

"You set?" Peter nodded to the question. "Good, you're coming to our birthday party Saturday, right?"

'Our' birthday. The changelings weren't clones but... and each had been born normally... but somehow each year's group all on the same day.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Peter smiled, "but I have no idea what gift you want."

She let out an exhaled laugh and backed up with the hand truck and pulled the door closed behind her.

"Well, that answers that...," he said with his own laugh as he looked at his boxes. He and Carole had both been presented with various personal items such as books and photos but no explanation had been offered how they'd been collected from their respective rooms. Carole hadn't been happy that clothes and shoes hadn't been included but their complaints had been met with a solid wall of disinterest. And only the guards, with their cheap but real black or dark blue suits, were generally allowed anything but the printed paper-cloth clothing and simple shoes, although he'd hacked the system at Carole's request to expand the styles.

The one exception was the native Sylvan sari-like wrap that Anna favoured and allowed others to also wear for 'special occasions.' It wrapped around the wearer's breasts, down one side of the torso then wrapped again around the hips from where two pieces draped, either to mid-thighs or as Anna wore it to mid-calf. The drape allowed both legs to show, although in the videos Peter had seen Anna wear it so her impressive tits and even her pussy and ass were exposed, the drapes set to fall along the outside of each leg. The native word was something like 'twart' which the earbud simply rendered as 'wrap.' Even Anna, the de facto leader of the expedition, limited her clothing the same way.

When he arrived at the birthday party, a couple of other Sylvan females had less strikingly colorful wraps but the guests-of-honor changelings wore the ship-standard printed two-piece pullovers and trousers.

Anna had the same deep, deep purple wrap from her Earthly appearance on Halloween when Peter had first met her. He'd learned since that its color extended into the ultraviolet which Sylvan eyes could just detect.

"Tell me Anna, are those girls legal drinking age?" Peter sipped a beer, a keg from England of something dark amber and quite low in carbonation but well beyond most American beers in body and taste. The Queen had a glass of Argentine Malbec, Peter hadn't known Argentina produced wine. He turned to look at Angie and Kim and another pair of changelings who all stood near the door with the same dark hair, pale skin, green eyes and voices without affect and all with glasses of red or white wines. Kim's accent had become slightly more American since he'd first met her but it was still an outlier. Had any of his classmates seen the four of them like that on the Uni campus they'd have thought they were four cute brunettes talking and laughing.

Peter was quite sure other humans would notice the odd set of their eyes and postures and if they watched, gaits that implied slight joint issues. And their voices. But in a setting like the Uni with students and professors from every continent that would pass quickly. With exotic voices their looks would as quickly be glossed over as well.

"Kim will shoon be twenty-one and Angiae and Margaret and Fraeda are twenty tonaight," Anna answered, "but wae have our own rulesh. Which ish good, you are barlaey old enough."

Sylvans of similar ages to the quartet and older circulated in the room that had been the restaurant but had been cleared of tables. There was an older human couple, a man and woman he and Carole had dined with occasionally and a couple of other human women, like Liz in their forties. They were lawyers of some sort who helped feed what secrets Anna wanted to technology or marketing firms. He wondered about the white-haired young human woman he'd seen a month ago but saw neither her nor the pair of male Sylvans she'd been with.

Peter had never seen a live Sylvan child, Anna had assured him they existed but all lived on the other two satellites. As did the younger changelings and even a handful of human babies. The first ones born in space. And he guessed but had never brought it up, baby guards. Because that blew his mind. The state of his family meant he'd had few 'happy' memories as a child so he'd never been oriented to being a father. But when he'd learned that the Sylvans had overturned their entire society to build interstellar arks to escape their doomed planet, a project that only descendent generations would take, told him they treasured their children as much as he'd always read humans did.

Well, humans not his family.

"Hey, I'm a very OLD twenty-three, Anna, but, your satellite, your rules," they tapped glasses and both smiled, her nipples were prominent through the tight wrap across her breasts. He'd intentionally worn snug briefs to avoid embarrassment and at the moment was quite happy he'd done so.

He heard squeals and loud verbal and non-verbal greetings as the changeling group all turned to someone who'd just entered and they converged on her in a group hug. Peter's mouth stayed open in a small 'o' and he stood still. The new arrival was taller than the others, he guessed she was barely shorter than he was, taller than even Anna, the tallest female Sylvan he'd ever met and other than guards he'd only met a couple of males taller than her.

"Paetor, are you okay?" Anna's voice was distant, muffled.

But this new girl, no, young woman, wasn't Sylvan. She was a changeling.

No. Maybe. What...

Her face was human. More, her eyes, their set, shape...They were human. But green like the changelings. Her skin was pale, her brunette hair fell around her face and shoulders in soft waves. Rather than the usual two-piece garments the changelings wore she had an iridescent blood red wrap. It covered her nipples but pushed the tops of her large, very large breasts up to expose two round folds of pale flesh. Her abs were solid and her wrap was short and showed toned legs down to low-heeled ankle-covering boots.

She wasn't beautiful in a classical sense. But her expression of joy and obvious ebullience turned her from cute and round-faced to something more.

"Come, Paetor," Anna slipped her right arm around his left and nudged him to move, "let me introduce you."

The other two dozen attendees had all gone silent at the new entrant's arrival and a few shifted themselves slightly to allow Anna and Peter a path. The new young woman's eyes caught Anna's and she moved as the changelings parted and she stepped forward. Anna slipped her arm from Peter's and handed him her wine so she could wrap the tall woman in a hug. They pulled their heads back a bit and kissed quickly on the lips before Anna spun them so the woman stood on her right side and they both faced Peter.

"Paetor, allow me to introduce Anna. Anna, Paetor," she and the young woman looked at each other, "I've told you about him. Paetor, Anna wash born in Africa and hash had a bit of a laife."