Every Man's Fantasy Ch. 25

They shook and vibrated for a few minutes, the air around them flowing like water over the view-screen, blurring the image of the outside world. Then air-friction slowed them to a smooth gliding speed and the buffeting stopped.

"Ten percent on the flaps, zero angle," Yael commanded the piloting computer.

Pushing the flaps out in a straight line to increase the area of the wings would catch more air, giving lift and slowing the ship more. Yael nudged the stick gently back.

The controls reacted well and the glide was still calm. The wind whistled past but did not shake the ship. It was safe to engage more flap and slow down even more.

"Fifty on the flaps," Yael ordered.

More smooth responses to the stick, keeping the red icon of the shuttlecraft within the green glide-path.

"Full flaps," Yael ordered. "Ten degrees down."

There was a lot of extra lift now. Yael kept the nose up to maintain the almost-stalling descent.

She looked out of her side window and said: "Eyes left, everyone."

The crew and passengers shuffled in their seats to see what Yael was looking at. It was a perfect sunset. As they approached the equator at 40,000 feet, falling rapidly, heading north toward the central ocean, flying over dense green forests and granite escarpments, the orange sun set at double speed behind the distant mountains, turning the western sky pink and the ocean red.

Yael opened a channel to Ocean City Astroport flight control, following the text-book instructions perfectly.

"Hello Ocean Tower, this is CSS Petticoat II confirming flight path."

"Hello Petticoat II, this is Ocean. We've been tracking you since atmosphere breach. You're looking good. Syncing flight paths. ... Your trajectory is uploaded. We're taking you west of the city and bringing you in north-east over the drink. No other traffic expected. Are you in a hurry?"

"No hurry, Ocean."

"Very good, Petticoat II. Our height above sea-level is 80 feet. Magnetic north is two degrees east of true north. There's no wind to speak of. Make your turn bearing 10 degrees, oh-one-oh, magnetic. Come in as cool as you like."

Without a sidewind, Yael's descent was particularly smooth. Robyn, the pilot, did not look up from her computer tablet. Co-pilot, Barb, slept the whole way.

At 10,000 feet and twenty miles out, Yael banked the shuttlecraft to the right, touching the left rudder to keep the nose up and pulling gently back on the stick to make the turn.

"Pretty view starboard," she said over the intercom.

There was Ocean City, spread out along the south-east side of the bay, its majestic sky-scrapers like shafts of light spearing the twilight sky. In the bay were boats with twinkling lights, their hulls catching the last red glow of the setting sun.

Even Robyn looked up to enjoy the view, though she had seen it many times before. She enjoyed Yael's deft control of the aircraft even more, nodding with approval.

Yael straightened up on a north-by-east course.

Now it was a quiet smooth path over the calm grey ocean to the Astroport on its northern shore, with one more manoeuvre before gliding in to land.

Five minutes out, Ocean Tower said:

"Hello, Petticoat II, this is Ocean. Make your turn bearing 270 magnetic. We're bringing you in on runway 4. Still no wind. Do you copy?"

"Thank you, Ocean, we copy. Runway 4. 80 above sea-level. Bearing two-seven-oh magnetic. Landing speed one-six-oh knots."

Yael made the turn and checked the air-speed. They were a little hot.

"45 degrees on the flaps," she told the computer. "Set the air brakes."

The flaps went down, with extra flaps above and below the wings and on the fuselage adding to the drag to slow down the shuttlecraft.

Yael also lit the forward manoeuvring rockets in case she needed them.

"What's our angle, Yael?" Robyn asked without looking up from her computer tab.

"A little down, Robyn," Yael said, checking her instruments.

There is an instinct that experienced pilots have: at that angle and at that speed and that altitude, there should be less wind-noise - or whatever was the subliminal phenomenon that had alerted Robyn. Yael had the skill but not the experience. But there was no one in the world more keen to learn than Yael and no fear of getting it wrong would ever stop her from making the attempt.

She gave a gentle pull back on the stick and slowed them even more.

It was night-time at ground level. In the distance, the Astroport was a long rectangle with a strip of white light from its glass walls sandwiched between the grey roof and the black ground. Hoverjets with flashing lights took off from circular landing pads on the roof lit in yellow. A toy maglev train pulled out of the terminal building to the south: a dark silver caterpillar with square white patches heading around the bay in search of Ocean City.

The runways flickered with red, white and green ground lights and yellow street lamps. Laser guidance beams crossed the sky. The piloting computer locked on to the beam from runway 4.

For the final approach, Yael flew the shuttlecraft in neatly with full flaps, landing-gear down, a tiny spurt on the forward thrusters and the jets idling. Touchdown was smooth. Yael kept the nose up until reverse thrust on the jets took away their momentum and the nose-wheel made solid contact with the tarmac.

She dabbed the brakes, applying gradually more pressure as they rolled for half-a-mile, smoothly slowing down onto the taxi-way, coming to a neat stop up against the disembarkation gates, with customs and hygiene behind.

Yael turned off the engines and checked that everyone was all right. Decontamination spray fell from hoses in the roof of the hangar to wash down the ship. A concertina walkway attached itself over the passenger door.

"Nicely done, Yael," Robyn said, putting her computer tab away at last. "Not that difficult, was it?"

"Not when you have expert help."

"Right. Let's go."

Robyn followed Yael, Kelly and Ryan into the passenger cabin, where the Petticoat crew had already disembarked, leaving Barbara still asleep.

Given a choice of waking her co-pilot with a hearty slap on her substantial rump or a light shake to her shoulder, mercy rather than cruelty prevailed. Robyn gentle woke her crew-mate.

"Come on, Barb," she said. "We're here. Give me your pack."

Yael, Kelly and Ryan hired a jetcar from the rank outside the terminus building. It was worth the extra expense to get them home more quickly than the cheaper hoverbus.

After the excitement of the spaceflight, Kelly understood why Yael wanted to hold Ryan's hand all the way home. She kindly allowed the sentimentality this time, as they sat in the jetcar, silent and smiling.

Joan and Peter were waiting for them at home with hot soup and crusty bread, eager for the full story of their adventures. For once, Yael was not the principal speaker. It was the newly-confident Kelly who was up to the task. Vibrant, animated, a little naive but full of enthusiasm, the quiet girl gave her parents a glowing description of Samothea, in which even her hours of daily chores sounded like a rare privilege. This (thought Joan) from a girl that I can barely get to make her own bed or fold her own clothes on the chair.

As for Yael, she was quiet because she was still feeling the thrill of piloting the shuttlecraft. Her sense of achievement needed a different kind of thrill in celebration. She needed her boyfriend.

With Kelly keeping her parents entertained, Yael declared herself ready for bed. Ryan went with her and as soon as the door was closed, she leapt on him, holding him tightly.

Ryan felt the full force of Yael's need to expend her nervous energy in a sexual celebration. He met Yael's needs with his own urgent lust. Their mouths were glued together and he pumped his cock into her. Yael responded with delight, wrapping her legs around his waist, moaning with every hard thrust.

A good long stiff fucking expressed all his admiration, all the desire he felt for the amazing girl he loved. Yael's needs were finally achieved with spasmodic moments of joyful release, when everything went blank and fulfilment cascaded over her in waves.

Ryan pumped on until he could hold out no longer. With a groan and a hard grip on her waist, he spent himself in her.

They relaxed down from their peaks, kissing and caressing, letting the unbelievable high of the day gently drain away in warm and contented love.

******

Next day, Yael wanted to see all her friends. She decided to turn social organiser and contacted everyone on their communicators. With the pleasure of Edgar Fanshaw, she arranged tea at his house, shopping with Kelly and Ryan in the morning, lugging heaped bags of food to Edgar's comfortable Edwardian home to make sandwiches and set out the tables in the back garden with chequered table cloths.

It was a warm September day, languid and mellow, with the smell of cut grass from Edgar's beautifully manicured lawn. The strong colours of late-blooming foxgloves, roses, cornflowers and phlox decorated the English borders.

Yael wore the posh white dress with white gloves, blue jacket and blue hat with a veil that Mariotta bought for her. With her golden hair and her loving enthusiasms, she was made for sunshine and happiness. Yael was euphoric when the guests arrived, having her heart-bursting anticipation relieved by kissing and hugging all her friends.

Yael leapt on Ezra first of all and kissed him gaily, clinging to him and not letting him go until she was completely satisfied. She snogged Wildchild and Hazel for ages. There was lots that a girl from Samothea could learn from her girlfriends by sticking her tongue in their mouths. When she let Wildchild and Hazel go, Yael signed to them: "We need to talk!"

She gave pecking kisses to Ed and Rod, Cassie, Paul and Tatiana. She tightly hugged Danielle, Roger, Rosa and Herman, ignoring Herman's objections.

Yael delighted Edgar with her kind attention, ignored Charlie-dog, though he loved her as much as anyone, and carried Freya around with her, dressed as a princess (another gift from Mariotta), making her laugh and squeal.

Most of all, Yael kissed and hugged Annela. She sat next to her and put a hand down her skirt to feel her warm belly, hoping for a kick or a movement.

"You look so beautiful," Yael said.

"I'm happy," Annela replied.

She was radiant. Her face had some summer freckles, her pale blue eyes glinted, her red-gold hair shone. Yael bent her head down to her friend's tummy to listen while Annela stroked the crazy girl's hair.

Yael had messages for Annela from the whole Woodlander Tribe. They thought about her every day. Mirselene sent a wish for her early return but she was missed the most by Erin, her bedmate.

"Now I'm sad," Annela said, with a smile.

"Oh, don't be sad. Ezra and Cassie will sort out the nanobots and you'll be cured and on your way home soon, I know it."

"I hope so, because the longer I stay away, the harder it will be to go back."

"Let's talk about home. Tell me about Erin: is she superorgasmic, like Carlin? Carlin was slow to get going but now she's so sensitive you barely have to lick or touch her pussy before she's squirming and moaning, on the edge of coming. And when she comes, she feels it all over. She has twice as many orgasms as me. Sometimes, after I've warmed her up a bit, she comes as soon as Ryan stuffs his cock in her. Is that a family trait?"

"It may be. Erin reacts strongly to any kind of touch, however soft."

"Good. When Erin and Ezra are bedmates, that'll be another thing to keep him on Samothea, won't it?"

******

With Rod and Ed beginning a fourth year at the business school, Hazel and Wildchild moved into Danielle and Roger's apartment. Yael was also invited. She flitted between the apartments of Danielle and Roger, Ezra and Annela and Joan and Peter Mayfield, where she was given Ryan's bedroom but preferred to share a bed with Kelly.

Danielle was glad to have the girls back. Even Roger liked having them around, despite the occasional queue for the bathroom and the regular embarrassment when they did their stretching exercises naked in the living room.

With Ryan back at the medical school in Ocean City and Annela building up to the nympho stage of her rejuvenation treatment, Yael helped look after Freya. They shared a bed and Yael gave the girl the tickles and hugs she wanted.

Ezra took Hazel to enrol onto a geology course with a broad science foundation course to study at the same time. He gladly paid for her education and would not accept a refusal. When they had free time, Ezra and Tatiana promised to help Hazel catch up as quickly as possible.

Wildchild and Yael also expected to enrol in the institute but Danielle put off making their education official. She told them she had to approve the expense to the Samothea Project, which was true, but the real reason was that she loved teaching the brilliant and enthusiastic girls.

There was plenty of time to enrol them in the university, which took students for the Fall semester even a month after it began because many candidates endured long journeys from distant planets. There was also a Spring intake for the second semester of the year, where two streams of students ran simultaneously. This was to accommodate students from planets with different seasons. Not every planet was on the Galactic Standard, synchronised with the Northern Hemisphere on Earth.

Danielle justified to herself not making Wildchild and Yael regular students at the institute by saying they helped her with the Beltway junction problem. Her recent insight to present the Beltway Junction problem as a large and complicated equation needed many minds to work on it, breaking it down into its simpler parts.

Wildchild and Yael happily tried to assist Danielle in trying to solve what Yael dubbed the 'monster equation'. As they worked, Danielle exposed the girls to her toolbox of tricks she used to solve difficult equations, teaching the girls new concepts in maths and physics. As usual, Danielle was impressed by how quickly they picked up the new ideas.

They studied Danielle's equation and practised her methods, but the monster equation resisted every solution. Danielle said it was a valuable lesson in the frustrations of theoretical physics, which was scant compensation to ambitious young scientists.

******

Now classes officially began at the institute, most of the faculty were back and there were queues of unkempt students in the refectory and congestion in the corridors. It was Freshers' Week for the predictably noisy and confused new undergraduates.

Danielle gave away her teaching workload for the while, so she could concentrate on the Beltway problem; but she made no progress. It looked like the problem still needed a radical new insight. Before she gave up to seek a new direction to try, Danielle recruited her colleagues Rosa Silverstein and Herman Melzner, pulling them out of their teaching jobs to try over a long weekend to find a way to solve the equation.

Rosa was not the same intense girl who had been Danielle's student at Cambridge, then her Ph.D. student on Celetaris. She still had the habit of pushing her brown hair impatiently back from her forehead and tucking it behind her ears. She still stood with her fists clenched when she was thinking deeply. She usually smiled at Danielle's jokes but rarely made jokes of her own. But now she had a serenity and strength that women in their mid-twenties often acquire along with responsibilities.

Her strength came from Danielle, who had always treated Rosa as an equal and encouraged her self-expression. Whenever she gave Rosa a task, Danielle never checked that it was done as well as she could do it herself. It was this trust that made Rosa bloom so admirably.

As for Herman: he had barely changed in the five years since Danielle first met him, when he was Rosa's study partner in their shared elective subject: programmable mathematics. He was just as skinny but less spotty, with a tall thin frame, an eagle's beak for a nose and a prominent Adam's apple. His eyes were blue-grey and his dark hair was curly, though he cut it shorter now, so as not to look like a matchstick. His jeans were a little less beaten up and he had on a respectable shirt rather than a tee-shirt with a geeky slogan.

But he was the same quiet serious lad who spoke, if at all, in carefully considered words, so one could be sure that he had thought all the way through an idea.

That weekend, Rosa and Herman reached the same verdict on Danielle's monster equation: there was no way to solve the problem with their current methods. Danielle reluctantly had to agree with them. She desperately needed a new insight.

******

With the Beltway problem stalled and the Nakatani Corporation selling stand-alone hyperdrive systems on the open market, things began stacking up against Danielle again.

While everyone was on holiday, Outworld Ventures had busily advanced its plan to sell a million stakes on the planet Samothea to colonists. It started with a special rate for the relatives of the lost 3,000 original settlers, sending invitations to the known relatives and advertising for other claimants to come forward.

The land-claims of the original colonists had lapsed, but it was good publicity as well as an act of conciliation toward the women of Samothea to draw the first new settlers from the relatives of those who were so tragically lost. Some of them were related to some of the present population of Samothea.

Outworld Ventures had the first 1,500 potential new settlers and many more to come, which put pressure on Danielle to find a way to buy the planet before mass settlement could damage the lives of the women of Samothea.

The plan to buy Samothea was still a secret between Danielle, Roger and Stephen Oakshott. They assumed that the settler company would be willing to sell. It was not an absurd assumption. Like any company with shareholders and a piece of property worth money, Outworld Ventures sought profits. It would be open to a realistic offer.

Thus Stephen asked a friend of his, an established businessman, to make subtle overtures to Outworld Ventures. The man met a senior executive for lunch in his club and hinted that, if the planet Samothea were for sale, then he might know someone interested in it.

When Stephen reported the response, there was good news and bad news. The good news was that the company was open to a realistic offer. The bad news was what they considered to be a realistic offer.

Danielle could not have hoped that the price for Samothea would be the original insurance estimate from when the planet was thought to be lost (which was two million Galactic Pounds) but she was completely demoralised when Stephen told her that Outworld Ventures would consider an offer for Samothea in the region of ten million Galactic Pounds.

"Ten million," Danielle exclaimed. "How can we ever get that much money together? It's trillions and trillions of old-British pounds or old-American dollars. How can they put such a price on a planet that has nothing that nearer planets don't have and has a violent x-ray source only five light-years away?"

"Samothea is, for size and climate, the ideal planet to colonise," Stephen answered. "I suspect they're taking future value into account. However, my friend is a very sharp businessman with sixty years experience and he can read between the lines. He wondered why, if Outworld Ventures is willing to sell, it asked an outrageous price. Why not just say the planet isn't for sale? He thinks that multiple buyers are bidding against each other. He snooped around a bit and found there had been interest shown in the planet from two sources: some mining companies with deep pockets and a politically-connected party."