La Belle Ile en Mere Pt. 01

"Mommy ... Mommy ... it was so ... terrible ... make it go away." Roy's body was much softer than his wife's and not quite so pale. He held her hips as she rode him.

Are they ... mother and son? George's stomach turned in revulsion at something so verboten. But at the same time, the discovery gave him hope. If they could do it, so could ... George studied Roy's face as the man gazed lovingly up at his "Mommy." He looked the same age as Constance. He couldn't be her son. They were playing a sex game. George had read about such things.

"Mommy ... ugh ... ugh ... will make it better." Constance pulled Roy into a sitting position and held his cheek against her breast.

George could see Constance's wetness dripping down to the covers below, the stain slowly spreading. He suddenly realized that he'd forgotten that he was going to die on this island in a sea of stars. His tears were gone. He'd lost Edith, but he was grateful for the distraction the Havershams provided. He looked down the hallway in both directions. There was no way to tell which door Edith had slipped into. He wasn't sure which room she'd claimed. George decided to go back to his room and fap. He turned back to the Haveshams, to memorize a little more of Constance's delightful body.

"You make me ... feel ... safe ... Mommy." Roy opened his eyes and turned his head. "You are ..." He spotted the spy at the door. "Cover yourself Constance!" He roughly pushed her off him and threw the blanket over her.

"Uh ... oh." George got one good look at the red triangle between her legs and her swollen, pink lips just below, before he raced back across the hall and slammed his door. He waited several minutes, but no knock came. He was still hard as a rock.

George moved into the bathroom, got the shower going, and undressed. Even without door locks, he doubted anyone would barge into an occupied bathroom. He fapped furiously. In his mind's eye, he pictured Edith's sultry gaze, her delicate and beguiling bare hand, and Constance's athletic, feminine body. He came several times over the next hour. Happily, during that time, he didn't dwell in the least on the doom that awaited them.

~~

"I'm very proud of you." Anna ventured her first smile since the crisis had started. She glanced at her son as he stepped around the corpse of a man in a bathrobe. "You saved our lives."

"You're always saying that my interest in computers will come in handy someday." George's heart swelled with his mother's approval.

"But I do say that." She looked at him quizzically.

"I wasn't being sarcastic, Mom." George stopped in the hall. They were between mirrors on either side, so their reflections seemed to shrink into infinity. He put his hands on her shoulders, trying not to look down at her corset. "I have something to tell you. And since we might die here, I ... I just have to say it."

"We're not going to die." Anna regarded her son with wide eyes. They were the only two living people in the hallway that led to Edith's concierge desk. She had wanted her son to check on the communication systems while everyone rested, so she'd fetched George and set off. "I can see you're serious. What is it? You can tell me anything." She held her breath.

"I'm afraid of leaving you. I know I'm going to college soon, or I was supposed to. But ... when you're not around, I feel ..." George took a deep breath.

Anna waited, knowing he needed to share his feelings without interruption.

"I feel incomplete without you, Mom. Other guys don't seem to feel the same way. They can't wait to leave home. But ... but ... I'd rather be here with you ..." He gestured at the bodies. "... than somewhere else without you. If we make it home, I don't want to leave for college. I want to stay home. I can go to the vocational school in Covington. I -"

"Nonsense. Don't say that." She kissed his cheek and rubbed away the kiss with her glove. "I'm your mother, Georgie. You don't think I've noticed that you and I are extra close? I raised you, so I'll always be right here." She patted the thin tie over his heart. "Wherever you go, I'll be with you. And it is healthy for you to leave the nest. We're going to call for help when the comm nets come back online, we're going to go home, and you're going to do marvelous things at college. My tall, strong man." She hugged him. "When did you get so tall?"

"Maybe we can talk more about this later, Mom. I ..." George turned his head toward a noise about fifty feet in front of them, where another hallway passed perpendicular to the one they were in. A maintenance robot ambled into sight. It was trailed by several autonomous carts piled high with the dead. The robot picked a woman's corpse up and tossed it onto the nearest cart. It shuffled a few more steps and did the same to a man's corpse.

"Ghastly." Anna put a gloved hand to her mouth. She closed her eyes and said a prayer for those about to find their final resting place. Would they jettison the bodies into space? She grimaced at the thought of such a cold and permanent ending. The bodies would never decompose.

George snapped his fingers. "This means ... this means ..." He looked up at the ceiling, with its long, majestic mural of Roman gods engaging in everyday life. "Océane? Are you done downgrading? Are you back?"

"Je fonctionne maintenant à trente pour cent," Océane said.

"In English, please." George raised an eyebrow at his mother. She shook her head. She didn't understand French either.

"L'anglais est une langue inférieure, et je ne m'abaisserai pas si bas." Océane sounded upset.

"Um ... can you give us a report on the hotel's systems in English?" George pressed his lips together.

"Je ne peux pas." Océane said no more.

"That sounded like no." Anna took her son's hand and pulled him toward their destination. "We don't need Océane's report. She's obviously taking care of the hotel." She nodded to the maintenance robot, as it turned toward them, continuing to collect dead bodies.

"Maybe someone in our group speaks French." George worried his lip, thinking as they walked. "We have limited access through the terminal. We'll need to talk to Océane. Or, maybe Edith knows the passwords to access the systems directly in the nerve center." The thought of Edith sped up his heart. He squeezed his mom's hand through her glove.

"All we need to do is call for help, sunshine." Anna struggled to give him a reassuring smile as they walked into the tidy part of the hallway. "The nearest ports are less than a day away. Once we make the call, all we have to do is hunker down in our rooms and wait. We'll be home in no time, you'll see."

George wasn't so sure, but he returned his mother's wan smile with one of his own. At least they were alive, walking side by side. He could feel the heat of her skin faintly through her glove. He took a deep breath, drawing strength from her. Maybe she was right. Maybe they'd be home in a few days and they could finish their talk about college.