Lost Colony Ch. 09

"Are we just going to watch?" Sparr asked.

She turned to him, amused. "You have no idea how close you are."

***

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, I give you the world's shortest, and most boring, Sci-Fi movie of all time. Only, it isn't fiction."

Fowler had suggested that the day's briefing would include entertainment. But as he stepped aside, instead of a modern holo-film, the mission crew were treated to a two-dimensional film as antique as anything Sparr had seen.

"So!" A handsome man with a bright smile and just a touch of grey at the temples addressed the camera. He was leaning casually against the front of a desk, dressed in a close-fitting flight suit clearly designed to favor style over practicality. "You're thinking about taking that daring journey into space, to become a real pioneer!"

He rose and walked purposefully across the room as the camera followed. "You've heard about it, read the brochures, maybe even put down a fully refundable deposit. But," he said, affecting a more serious tone, "what will this trip really be like? Let's find out!"

The scene changed to an orbital shot of Earth, then pulled back to reveal a hulking spaceship in the foreground. It consisted of an enormous rectangular frame studded with pods of various sizes, and surprisingly small engines at one end. Smaller ships swarmed it, loading containers, and attaching even more of the pods. Though the scale was impossible to assess with any confidence, the largest of the pods looked as though they would challenge the Odysseus in size.

"Ark One," the narrator continued, "one of the great hopes of Earth. Carrying everything necessary to start a new life on a distant, but welcoming, alien world, Ark One shines like a beacon for mankind. With the resources she carries, the colonists of K2-136-b will build homes, plant fields, mine for resources, and explore their new home with confidence."

The Ark One faded, replaced by the narrator. His earlier, energetic mood had returned. "Ark One departed last year, beginning its long journey through deep space. But whoa, whoa," he said, an amused expression on his face, "worried you missed your flight? You needn't be, because as a colonist you'll be traveling on Ark Two!"

Again the screen shifted, this time to reveal a much sleeker spaceship. Though clearly nearing completion, the vessel was still nestled in construction scaffolding high above Earth. Ark Two was narrower and featured more pronounced engine nacelles, but had none of the visual clutter that characterized Ark One. Ark Two looked like a spaceship.

"While Ark One forges ahead, carrying equipment and supplies, Ark Two will follow, carrying you and your fellow colonists in comfort and safety. Let's take a look at some of those features."

The narrator cheerfully carried on, describing life support, hibernation, and safety systems, while the camera showed them. Particular focus was given to the areas of the ship which colonists would occupy during their periodic breaks from cryo-sleep. "Only five percent of you will be awake at any one time, but from the looks of these facilities, you'd wish it was more!"

It was, as Fowler had said, closer to science fiction than reality. The narrator made no mention of the profound weakness and discomfort of awakening from cryo-sleep, the limits of medical care should a colonist make it past screening with a chronic condition, or the psychological trauma of separating forever from friends and family on Earth. Sparr wondered how many of the original colonists had boarded Ark Two with an inkling of how difficult their lives were about to become.

"But as much as you'll enjoy your time aboard Ark Two, the real prize will be embracing your new lives on K2-136-b! I want to show you just how arrival at your new home will work."

An animation began, showing the distinct, rectangular outline of Ark One as it reached a planet which closely resembled Earth. The animators hadn't even bothered to show Kaybe's much larger polar regions. As Ark Two settled into orbit, the animation showed exaggerated sound or energy waves sweeping the planet.

"Months before the colonists arrive, Ark One will scan K2-136-b, analyzing the atmosphere, water, topography, and any plant or animal life. If the planet is deemed inhospitable, she will send Ark Two an abort sequence, informing disappointed colonists that they'll need to turn around."

The animation showed a signal, highlighted in red, beamed toward Ark Two. Upon receiving it, Ark Two continued past Kaybe, rocketed around the planet's star, and shot back out of the system.

"But don't worry!" The animation ended, as the optimistic narrator once again appeared on screen. "All of our scans show that K2-136-b will be a perfect home!"

The video continued for another minute, showing scenes of smiling colonists boarding landing shuttles, setting up communities on the surface, and, arms around each other, watching a beautiful, alien sunset.

Fowler switched it off. "Nice, realistic way to set colonist expectations, right?"

Many in the briefing room shook their heads, but a few raised their hands. "How bad were things on Earth that people signed up for this?"

"Pretty rough," Fowler said. "If you've studied the history of that era, you know that prior to, and for at least a hundred years after, the launch of the Ark mission, there were conflicts across most of the globe. Earth's population shrank by at least one billion as struggles for food, water, and security erupted."

The mood in the room darkened further. The three centuries since had seen only modest improvements. The lives of those journeying aboard the Odysseus were comfortable and safe, but most of the world's population still struggled to find enough food. Famine and a seemingly unending stream of new viruses and other afflictions plagued humanity.

Sparr was particularly attuned to Earth's plight. As a biologist, and a student of Earth's natural history, he knew well the potential for natural solutions to famine and disease. But he was also depressingly aware of how many Earth species had been lost. Without them the world was desperately out of balance, and solutions to man's dilemmas in short supply.

Kaybe provided a flicker of hope. Certainly for K2 Genetics a rich find in alien DNA could mean a windfall, and for Sparr, considerable personal wealth and fame. But for Earth the stakes were much higher. New DNA could mean new cures and new crops, and there was no more promising solution than Kaybe. It had to work.

***

The room began to empty around them.

Sparr and Aine stood watching passively as the bulk of the supplicants sacrificed tokens and were granted some favor by the temple. Just like in Vonde, most received a drugged scroll, wine and private time with a prince or maiden, or some other indulgence. Just when he thought they might leave without participating, Aine stepped forward to place a heavy stack of tokens onto the offering bowl. As if responding to some invisible cue, two other couples did the same.

This time, the priest himself spun the wheel. Seemingly to no one's surprise at all, he announced, "Enlightenment!"

A buzz went through the remaining crowd. Supplicants craned their necks to get a view of Aine, Sparr, and the other two couples. Three princes scrambled forward, each carrying two blindfolds.

"Put it on," Aine said. "Trust me."

Obligingly, Sparr pulled the mask over his eyes and let the prince lead both him and Aine down the steps, and to the far side of the ceremonial hall. What little light reached him around the edges of the blindfold faded, and the echoes of their footsteps rang closer off of stone walls. He was being led into a dark, enclosed space. A hint of incense hung in the air.

"Here," the prince whispered, guiding him onto a low chair or couch, stuffed with cushions. Aine's left hand somehow found his right. They were seated together.

Sounds of shuffling, uncertain steps echoed from both sides as the other supplicants were guided in. After a moment, the prince tugged off his blindfold. He and Aine were seated side-by-side in deep loungers. Heavy drapes hung from either side, blocking their view of the chamber's other occupants, but were open in front to reveal a compact, round stage. The room was almost completely dark, with only a few candles to give any sense of place.

A prince entered from the left, seating himself on a cushion perhaps one meter from the edge of the stage. He held one of the tiny drums that Sparr had seen used in previous Origin shows. From the right, a maiden mirrored him, seating herself on a matching cushion. She began to play a simple, repetitive tune on a double flute. After a moment the prince joined her, improvising and riffing with the drum. The tune was restrained and rhythmic, but not without complexity.

Sparr looked to his right, trying to read Aine's reaction. The raven-haired beauty smiled back but pressed a finger to her lips. "Just enjoy," she whispered, squeezing his hand.

Another prince entered from the left, placing two more of the fat, guttering candles just outside the stage. Sparr could now make out that the stage was covered in a thick pad. To one side, a lever roughly half a meter long protruded. Before he could guess at its function, the prince stood behind it. From his pocket, the young man pulled something which he held against one of the candles.

A blinding flash filled the room, chased by a whiff of acrid smoke. Sparr's vision swam, streaked with photo-negative impressions of the stage, prince, and candles. By the time he regained his sight, a performer stood on the stage.

Both in Vonde and Santi, maidens and princes of the Origin were selected for their beauty, and fought to keep it through exercise and obsessive grooming. The prince who now stood on the circular stage embodied the pinnacle of those traits. He was defiantly handsome, with dark eyes, aquiline nose, defined cheeks, and cleft chin. Strength rippled across his tall frame, from the sharply defined muscles of his shoulders and chest, to the veins popping on his arms, to his rippling abs and toned legs. Both his head and groin were meticulously shaven, the latter accentuating a heavy cock and plump balls.

Aine squeezed Sparr's hand. "I love being rich," she whispered.

The prince at the lever began to push. The stage, Sparr realized, turned, allowing the occupants of the other alcoves each to share an ever-changing view. Meanwhile, the rhythmic music continued. The prince slowly flexed and posed.

A tall, slender figure entered from the right, heavily robed and hooded. He or she leaped to the stage, pulling out a bottle that sparkled in the candlelight. The muscled prince stepped back as if startled, but continued to pose. The slender figure raised the bottle, pouring a trickle of oil onto the shaved scalp of the prince. Rivulets of glistening, amber liquid spilled down his skull, neck, and back. In a carefully choreographed impression of impetuous anger, the prince tore the robe from his fellow performer.

On Earth, she would have been a model. Wounded eyes, high cheekbones, and soft full lips highlighted a face of extraordinary beauty. The maiden stood close to six feet tall, with delicate arms, slim breasts, a flat belly, and deliriously long legs. Her hair, whatever its original color, had been dyed platinum, and cut short.

The pair slid together. The maiden poured another spurt of oil onto the prince. For his part, the young man embraced his partner, grinding and sliding his body against hers. Soon both were slick with the oil, writhing together like two halves of the same being. The stage turned, giving the select audience a view first of the prince's muscled back and buttocks, then the maiden's willowy profile. The tempo of the music increased.

"You like her," Aine said, her voice low and relaxed.

Sparr knew better than to pretend. "She's beautiful."

"Enjoy then, Alain," Aine said, squeezing his hand once more before turning her attention back to the stage. To either side, the other couples spoke in equally hushed tones.

On stage, the maiden slipped her fingers over the prince's shoulder, nudging him down. Like him, she was shaved, her womanhood like a flower inviting exploration. Her fellow performer didn't hesitate, bypassing her neck, nipples, and belly to reach straight to her musky center.

"Oooh," the maiden sighed. "Oh, yes."

The rotating stage revealed, in turn, the prince's eager, questing tongue, the maiden's quivering abdomen, her round ass, then again her lover in profile, straining to please her. "Oh, oh fuck," she gasped, stroking his bare scalp.

The scene was perhaps the most potently erotic Sparr ha ever witnessed. Candlelight danced and flickered across the oiled, taut bodies of the two performers. Incense caressed the air, chased by the insistent rhythm of the music. His cock stirred.

"Don't," Aine cautioned. She had noticed his hand straying toward his organ. "Wait... you will see."

Sparr complied, watching the act with increasing arousal. It had been more than a week since he and Aine last had met each other's needs. How much longer would he have to wait?

The prince was toned and strong, but at least this evening, the maiden was in control. Once she had enjoyed enough of his oral skills, she raised one leg, pressed it against his shoulder, and nudged him backward. "Cock," she said.

Laying back on the circular stage, the prince threw one arm back, resting his head on it. With the other, he raised his now hard cock. The maiden assessed his endowment, then, seeming to find it acceptable, straddled him. As the rhythm of the drum and flute picked up, she lowered herself onto his organ.

"Unh," the prince groaned. His eyes slid shut.

The stage turned. Sparr and Aine were treated to a view of the maiden's long, lean legs, sculpted calves, and round ass. Beneath her, the prince lay like a sculpture, muscles tense and ready, cock hard. She began to use him.

"Yes," the maiden said. She ran one free hand back through her close-cropped platinum hair, before sliding it down her neck and across her slim, oiled breasts. "Just like that. You only have to stay hard for me."

The choreographed show unfolded before them. As the music thrummed and bounced off of the stone walls, the maiden rose and fell effortlessly on her partner's organ. She lowered herself to take him completely, ground her clit against his hard body, then pulled nearly off so the head only brushed her slit. Once she had teased him thus for several heartbeats, she took him deep once more, letting out a delicious, satisfied moan.

As he had during the bath earlier, Sparr allowed himself nearly to submerge in the show's erotic currents. The spiced incense caressed his nose, chased by the sweeter scents of the oil the lovers shone with. The music rose and fell, but remained an unfaltering accompaniment to the movements on stage. Light from the candles threw fleeting shadows against the wall, against the beautiful bodies writhing. Aine's fingers squeezed his.

Perhaps fatiguing, the maiden abandoned her perch to lay closer atop the prince, her breasts tickling his chest. Still she ground against him, but more easily, taking as much or as little as she wanted. She curled her fingers around the prince's biceps, supporting herself and making clear her claim to his body. Even in the dim light, her pale skin was a clear contrast to her lover's warmer complexion.

"He's mine," the maiden said, a note of wicked confidence deepening her speech. At this point in the stage's rotation, she was facing the alcove to Sparr's right. "Mine to take," she said to the unseen occupants. When the stage turned to face his alcove, the maiden locked her eyes on Aine's, inviting her to share the moment. "Mine to use." To the occupants of the final alcove, she moaned aloud. "His hard, hard cock."

Now the young man turning the stage switched direction so the witnesses to the intimate show were again presented with a view of the victorious maiden's face and breasts. She was beginning to show the signs of exertion and lust, her mouth agape, breath audible, and droplets of sweat running over her smooth, oiled skin. Again facing the first alcove, she repeated her charged dialog.

"I'll take what I want," she moaned. "All the cock I want, deep in me, or just the fat head. It's all so good."

The prince remained passive and still beneath her. His arms stiffened and relaxed, his legs began to tremble, but he showed amazing control. The maiden could do as she pleased.

"Ownership of a man," she panted, now facing Sparr and Aine, "ownership of a cock. To ride as long as I wish." She was trembling, either nearing orgasm or feigning so convincingly. Her shadowed eyes sought out Aine's. "Just, oooh, staying so hard for me." She slid and ground against her lover.

Finally, at some signal or pre-determined moment, the maiden raised herself, letting the cock she had been riding slap back against the prince's rippled abs. "I'm so close," she moaned, before moving forward to straddle her lover's mouth. "Finish me with your tongue!"

And so the scene continued much as it had started, with the prince expertly tonguing and sucking the maiden's bare slit. She arched back and away, her body once more on full display, lit by the warm candlelight. Spreading a hand across each breast, she tugged and pinched her own nipples as she took pleasure from her lover's tongue.

Already a beautiful woman, the maiden, in ecstasy, was even more so. Her eyes had slid shut, but her full lips were parted. She sighed and gasped, trembling as the prince's tongue drew her ever nearer to release. Oil glittered on her sleek body, highlighting the hollows of her neck, her nipples, hip bones, and calves. She tensed, perched on the edge of release, then came.

"Oh, oooh," she cried out. The maiden lost control, no longer feeding dirty talk to the audience. Instead, she shuddered, nearly sobbing as ecstasy seized her. The stage rotated, granting the occupants of each alcove, in turn, their opportunity to behold the spectacle of her orgasm. Sparr was achingly hard.

Finally, the maiden collapsed, rolling to her side. She drew in one ragged breath after another, still caressed by the afterglow of her ecstatic release. Almost at once, the prince sat up. He slapped the maiden on her ass, hard, the sharp sound startling.

"Hands and knees," he said raggedly.

Their roles had flipped in a heartbeat. Meekly, the young woman dragged herself upright, then into doggie, offering her ass. The prince took her immediately, driving his still hard cock back into the pussy he had enjoyed just minutes before.

"Fuhhh," the maiden gasped.

"Yeah." The prince locked his hands onto either side of the young woman's hips, holding her in place. Without missing a beat, he began to pump. Muscles flashed at the man's shoulders, arms, and back. Like the maiden, he shone with oil, gleaming in the candlelight as he took his pleasure. His hips slapped against her ass, his voice rough. "Yeah," he repeated."

Aine squeezed his hand hard enough for Sparr to tear his eyes from the stage. She was smiling at him through heavily lidded eyes, dark hair spilling carelessly across her cheek and neck. In contrast to her usual, more practical, attire, she had dressed for the temple in a gown of cream and white, which she had loosened considerably since the ceremony. He yearned to touch her.

"Mmmh," the prince moaned. It wouldn't be long. The maiden had already ridden and ground against him for longer than most men could hold out. Pumping her hard would tug him over the edge in seconds. As Sparr and Aine watched, entranced, the man stiffened, his strokes becoming less rhythmic. His fingers dug into the maiden's hips. "Hnnh, hnnnh," he groaned. "Oh Omm!"