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AUTHOR PROFILE Born in South Africa, he grew up in a country at a time when the dark clouds of apartheid was just emerging, separating one nation from another, causing bitterness and resentment amongst entire groups. Not once did the family remain in the one place for longer than five years, seeing much of South Africa taking photos, at times crossing borders, from Angola in the west across the southern continent to the eastern side. National Service in the South African army had him signing up in 1958. Two years later, forever the wanderer, distant horizons beckoned once again and he found himself in England where he spent the next four years with a company supplying garments and other paraphernalia for stage shows and motion pictures. Also completed was a one-year course in photography. Nineteen-sixty-five had a return to the south to a little place called Fish Hook a few miles from Cape Town, spending the next year as a freelance photographer selling wild life still shots to magazines and newspapers. With the appeal of a new country on the other side of the world, 1966 saw him in Australia, settling in Sydney where he worked as a managerial applicator and where he met his wife. South Africa at that time was changing with the advent of television on the minds of both black and white. Together with his wife, in 1972 he headed back to South Africa where his first son was born. TV Castings was the company he joined and for a short while of the next four years travelled with a motion picture film crew as still photographer, getting trapped in Mozambique shooting casino and market scenes at the time of the Portuguese evacuation to Brazil. The Frelimo were pouring in across the northern borders from Tanzania and the safest route to the airport was through several townships travelling in convoy. The next stop was Botswana for more casino scenes. Back in Sydney he joined Kodak Australia before moving to Goulburn where his second son was born, remaining there for several years. During this time and, always with a profound interest in ufology, he corresponded with Linda Mouton Howe of Pennsylvania USA (Glimpses of other Realities and Alien Harvest) the world’s leading expert on cattle mutilations. A letter was also sent to Stanton Friedman, a Canadian nuclear physicist who had written several books on Roswell one of which he has autographed by him on his trip down under. After twenty-three years of marriage and again single, with his sons he moved to the Gold Coast, spending one year in Cairns before returning to the Coast, and where he commenced writing Stealers. A self funded retiree; he spends most of his time walking his Jack Russell along the beach. 1 During the night they come, the darkest of creatures, descending through atmospheres immured in their hellish cells from the shadowed holds of black ships far out in space. Despite a fear of the dark they make practical use of its cover to close in on their intended victims. Vibrations through the air are non-existent at their approach. Lured into a world of infernal horrors, incapable of resisting the forces so profoundly imprinted on their subconscious, the innocent die the deaths of the terror-stricken as the wavering illusion turns. There is no escape once the doors close with a reverberating bang. Into the flesh of the naïve the hydra creatures unleash their hideous acts, a baptism of excruciating heat to drain the life forces of those about to die for the controllers they detest. Death to them is inconsequential, an extension of regeneration and cellular replication, with heteromorphism uniting their kind. As quickly as they come, so do they vanish into the still night.
These horrors were yet unknown to Tii-Soom as tentative steps took her deeper into the awe-inspiring shallows of the emerald ocean. Strokes of velvet caresses, the gentle, rhythmic lapping of water against her calves and knees, paradisiacal moments never lasting. In the exhilarating silence of deserted shores, unmindful of Bas-Kor stretching behind to mackerel horizons and beyond, she continued on. Untouched by the discretion of those given to caution, for submerged hydrozoa as diverse as those dreamed, she preserved a total disregard. Throughout her neural net, biological structures analogous to micro-sized biochips, wherefore her defiant state and the valour of the invincible, blinded her to the terrors in habitation of the deep. To turn, to go back, not once entered her mind. With her cerulean eyes closed in a face uplifted to the turquoise sky, for several moments she remained motionless, disintegrating niggling doubts like a cleansing wind. Through divisions of time spanning half a century to the period when first she opened her eyes, she indulged in retrospection, memories below the threshold of consciousness always retrievable. Until the senescent age in a future overhauling the declining years, she has upwards of three hundred years. Bending low, she scooped a handful of water and straightened, sprinkling drop by pleasuring drop across her forehead, permitting it to meander like scintillating pearls of light down the smooth incline of unblemished skin. Experiencing a tickling sensation, she resisted an urge to relieve the exquisite itch, aroused by natural functions within. A temperance of mind surfaced an enjoyable smile at the inner glow it brought. Minute ripples, undersurface motions, stirred the tranquil green in ever-widening circles toward and away from the shore. A swirling black cloud several inches thick, with deliberate slowness began to permeate an area. A slime mould darkening the green in its search for anything edible, it released extracellular, cyclic adenosine monophosphate, triggering cell aggregation to stimulate that which had secreted it. A predacious creature of indistinct outline, its molecule receptors having received the signals, the dark mass moved toward the source. Hours earlier it had devoured the bitter-tasting flesh of a Krone, the sea scorpioid twenty feet in length. The hunger lingered nonetheless, the fresh scent of prey a perpetuality of chase-and-trap sequences. A bladder-like body fifty feet long, it watched the human less than ninety metres closer to the white sabulous shore, through eight purple-red eyes in the wrinkled flesh. Anticipating the kill in an area too shallow to get any nearer, it submitted to patience, having to rely on the palpable substance to ensnare; its enclosed gills inside a mantle cavity created sufficient ventilation by the slow rhythmic beating of stacked lamellae. Coming to rest on the seabed and closing three multiple-vision eyes, the other five vigilant, the oliktapede waited. In spite of its frightening aspect, there were predatory giants in the ocean depths even more terrifying. Disregarding the light ripple-wash, several steps took Tii-Soom further out until she came in contact with a slight inclination leading to marginal trenches, where polychaete worms grew to the size of star cruisers and continental platforms blanketed in eternal night. The shallows were now at a depth submerging both her knees. Feeling rebellious, a lack of good sense had her ignore the governing laws forbidding humans from entering areas where they put themselves at risk. Flirting with the unknown was tempting human destiny; she had been told many times. Sensing the building breeze, she felt exposed before its gentle touch, allowing one arm to remain suspended a little away from her waist. Several long strands of black hair fluttered lazily and fell across the golden metalloid, a chest plate she wore with such elegant devotion over the leather tunic reaching halfway down her thighs. Detaching herself from the world she knew, and blissfully unaware of the mature oliktapede beyond the high shelf, complacency settled about her. Without warning, the seabed beneath her sandalled feet moved, a hardly noticeable change shifting her further from the shore. Glancing down she frowned, the heat sufficient to allay the nanosecond thread of fear. Oliktapede is aware of encroachment into territory. The warning simulated human thought and came from her bio-enhanced chips. Under sliding leather soles, the suction grew ominously stronger and she began to feel afraid when taking a step back and found her legs unresponsive and burdened with heaviness. The water lapping an inch below her tunic was growing darker. It was also getting warmer and appeared to come alive with tiny white-crested waves. Not far off, the black mucus separated into two curving slicks, gently flowing up one undulation and down another. There was no stopping its irreversible approach. The powerful pull was merciless, an underswell sucking her down to a bed falling away rapidly. A little ahead, she caught a glimpse of the dismal depths where everything took on distorted forms and light hardly ever went. Panic overwhelmed every conscious thought as she realised the significance of where she was, and that she could not open her mouth to breathe. If she did water poured in. To stop a temporary loss of consciousness, she opened her eyes wide, despite the sharp burning sensations. Ten feet separated her from the vital air she had to reach quickly, else succumb to the convulsive world of drowning. It seemed like an eternity when finally she surfaced, gasping, a second of stolen air, only to go under again. Holding in her breath to sustain the little air inhaled, the first stages of pain set in, lightning caresses of agony clutching at her respiratory organs, the alarm a tangible presence she had little hope of overcoming while submerged. Great bubbles of blinding light burst before her eyes and in her brain. Her entire physical structure seemed to be seized by some intractible force. With her lungs empty, flashes of white intensified her suffering, and the fringes of another existence drew closer. She knew the transition was moments away; she sensed its nearness as if it had a tangible presence. Desperate to survive the next few minutes, several times she broke the surface with each lung on fire. Then dragged under once more, in the direction of the open ocean, inflamed eyes made out the hideous outlines inches above the algae-covered floor. The black form was drifting, growing enormous in its stretch to reach her. Four of the five opened eyes were now closed, a false sleep and a tactic by it first to confuse before it pounced then fed on the flesh it craved. She tried to move from the course for which its concentration of neurons for food acquisition were set, but the current was too strong, holding her fast. She understood the forces wanting her where she would surely die and surfaced one last time, accepting the flow, allowing it to take her. It bore her gradually to the east, and always the thought of a terrifying embrace from below. Later, when she felt a definite easing off of the current, powerful strokes took her toward the shore. Coming in contact with the ascending bed soon after, the shallows brought forth a sense of relief, forcing her to breathe in noisily as she struggled up kicking into the submerged slope. Her bionics in the left retina failed to reveal any presence other than a turbulent surface, but direction to sustain in her a cross-section of wariness. The cephalopod oliktapede attacked from under the sea and not above it. Still offshore, she could only guess whether it had metres shaved off, which would put it much closer despite the shallows. Within seconds she could be shredded. Motivated by a desire to experience a long life, she faced about, her legs forcing back against exerting pressures influencing an intermittent surface current still strong enough to sweep her back out to sea. Trudging up the ascending floor she remained vigilant, taking awkward steps with her back to the north. Her system momentarily devitalised, it was not long before she stepped from the surf. Not trusting the waves lapping the shore, she avoided an inclined bank, which looked as if it was on the point of collapse, in search of higher ground further along the beach. Somewhat angered by her own irresponsible attitude, she sat down heavily on an area of smooth sand drawing both legs to the chest plate with her arms clasped around her knees. Like the moist petals of a sunning flower, the tunic flaps clung to her drying skin. In the distance she observed red-plumed sea cranes commence a cacophony of piercing squawks and shrill calls as they rose on sharp gusts of wind in graceful sweeps, then seventy metres offshore, swoop back down to settle on glistening, protruding rocks, their talons preventing them from slipping into the crashing waves below. Instinct had warned them of the lurking menace under the building turbulence, exercising mesmerism on their senses. As engrossed as she was in her pseudo-setting, their squawking should have been sufficient reason to dispel the hedonistic sensations. She traced the shoreline, a ribbon of powdered white, until it merged into the western horizon, curving to the south in a long indistinct line, and disappeared altogether under sheets of shimmering light. East took her gaze next, her eyes crossing to the beachhead a thousand metres on the right. Behind her, the blue forest belt predominantly of trees and jungle floors lost in the haze of two horizons, and adjacent to the city perimeter four kilometres to the north. Three hours earlier, she had dropped the gravitron in the warm sand. Unsure of its whereabouts and without getting up she searched the higher beach. It didn’t take her long to locate the device, the reflection of light off its mirror-like surface the guiding force. A requisite when utilising the circular, shield-like device was to bend forward, thereby reducing the effects of air turbulence, and a state of equilibrium remained until the journey’s end, although an air speed of only thirty knots was obtainable. Out to sea a tremendous splash startled her into looking back and she saw the oliktapede emerge from the deep, its posterior siphons open wide to eject thick clouds of the black substance to paralyse the sensory organs of a ferocious predator with giant mandibles chasing after it. Just above the surface, keeping the pair close company, were the same five cranes, in anticipation of the feeding frenzy about to ensue, their powerful wings creating a dull swatting sound. There would be enough left of the oliktapede to feed a hundred of their kind. A strong feeling of impending company arriving from the north-east sharpened Tii-Soom’s sense of awareness. She became alert to the intrusive sounds of finely-tuned engines. Marsoom, she thought. In the distance the faint hum grew louder, and a silver shape above the eastern beach took on distinct outlines as it searched for her. Low down on the port side the metal was stained a muddy-brown colour. It was coming in fast with the struts already locked for touchdown, the wind friction turning the wheels slowly. There was a sibilant whisper as the aerocar landed nearby, sending up a jet of hot, stirring sand. Tii-Soom observed her agent partner switch for idling then move across to the port. The expanding iris left a section of the fuselage obstruction free just above the brown stain, enabling her to see all of him, seven inches taller than her five-foot-ten frame. They were both of identical age, having known each other before the onset of pubescent times. His shy temperament pleased her, although at times he could be equally loquacious when she was fortunate to get a word in edgeways. Broad-shouldered and muscular in a light grey, one-piece uniform, she found him Adonic, with mussed up yellow hair as if the wind had taken hold and brushed it every which way. She sensed the irises, which sometimes changed from pale blue to light grey above the chiselled nose and wide mouth, watching her. His strong jaw did not move with the addition of an annoyed smile. Often had he held her in his gaze, the high eyebrows so touched with perfection above eyes in a face that mesmerised his senses. Now those captivating moments returned like on so many occasions in the past. Starting with the sandalled feet he took in the strap-encircled calves and the leathered wraparound, exposing nearly all of her sun-kissed thighs. As she stood up, kicking her feet to dislodge the sand caught between her soles and the sandal insoles, he lapsed into the private world of reminiscence, of times long gone when first they bonded in friendship. An inseparable team growing to adulthood on perfect worlds was never a wasted time. So long in the past and still a nostalgic association of recallable memories. He waved and pointed. ‘Your gravitron, it’s in the sand, over there.’ As she bent down to retrieve the plano-convex disc, brushing some of the grains off the flat side, she looked sideways at him, then straightened with the floater tucked under one arm. ‘How did you know where to find me?’ She held back, her attitude inquisitive at the cross expression and an inkling of the cause and the sermon to come. ‘I know you too well. The appeal of out there is your connection with tranquillity – it always has been, and never will it change. To be emancipated from the restrictions of the city, and on an off-period, alone …’ He trailed off unable to suppress the fragmenting peace of mind he suspected he always had. It was his way of showing he cared, submitting to logic that influenced him into thinking he was right and she was wrong. ‘I suppose in a way I admire your resolve to leave all that behind.’ He flourished a hand in the direction of the city, half-turning to do so. ‘You are well aware of the laws, Tii-Soom, so why do you tempt fate on such a regular basis?’ Without compunction for remonstrating he shook his head, not a sudden motion. ‘One day …’ ‘Not one day,’ she said in unshakeable opposition. ‘Our biochips are well acquainted with the marine life out there and give us due warning, sufficient time to avoid developing situations. Their function is to fulfil a purpose to safeguard their human hosts. Never have they let us down in the past – you know that as well as I.’ She had the notion this was not always the case, and started toward the transport. ‘They do have a practical understanding, but their reliance isn’t worthy of attention. Next time I’m accompanying you. We can swim together if you so choose, and then we’ll see who is afraid of what lies in dismal depths.’ He wanted to exonerate her from her blatant disregard of the laws, then thought better of it. A coquettish smile had connotations of teasing. ‘I wasn’t about to argue with you. Then, isn’t that just like us, the thrill of who is best?’ She chuckled at the exasperated expression he failed to conceal. Stepping through the opening into the small transporter she felt his hand on her shoulder in a playful squeeze. ‘I hope not,’ he said and took his place on the driver couch. The opening took on the aspect of a spinning wheel with spokes obliterated by singularity until all that remained was a solid, transparent wall sealing both of them on the inside. The air smelled vaguely of vanilla. He shook his head at her, a simulacrum of shadowy impressions assembling to form a deceptive something he knew was nothing other than the inception of frustration. ‘It’s not a matter to be taken lightly, Tii-Soom.’ Again she giggled. ‘You can’t deny the place has an enticing quality to it.’ ‘And there lies the crux of the matter. Your induced state of pleasure blinds you to the susceptibility to danger, chips or no chips.’ Somewhat angry, he looked away. She submissively secured the gravitron in the magnetic field provided behind the passenger seat and sat down. ‘The beach then, we’ll do the swimming thing together.’ ‘You’d better,’ he warned, nudging all the in-flight switches to Power Escalation and with the other hand palmed the motion plate instead of having to initiate a voice print, a projected instruction for a specific location in the city. Almost at once the aerocar began to rise steadily, levelling off three hundred metres above the white sand and making very little sound. ‘We have a destination in mind?’ she asked, straightening both legs and interlocking her fingers behind the seat. Feeling less prone to unfavourable consequences she reclined back into the comfort of cushioned foam. For several moments she drew on imagery of a lengthening beach and its surrounding environment. ‘Ka-Tek wants to see us straight away.’ Tii-Soom yawned, her eyes on the receding trees. ‘He always does. About what?’ He paused before answering. ‘Three bodies discovered in the vicinity of the Uluisha Forest.’ Fingers unclasped as she turned her head slowly and stared at him, surprise easing the boredom to a secluded corner. She kept on staring at him. ‘Didn’t you hear me? Three bodies …’ ‘I heard you the first time,’ she answered in a mutter and looked past him through the transparent wall at nothing in particular. ‘How many?’ Her mouth felt dry, and a suspicion the tightness in her throat had something to do with it. ‘I already told you.’ Then he grunted in understanding. ‘A thousand – maybe two. It could even be three or four.’ ‘A thousand or more years and there hasn’t been a murder in Bas-Kor, or for that matter the other continent cities, longer perhaps. Why now – why of all times now? And anyway, why the requirement of stellar agents when the local security personnel are adept at dealing with surface problems?’ ‘Precisely what I told Ka-Tek – these are different, and why us two?’ He inclined his head at her, his brow pinched for once. ‘How did you know they were murdered?’ ‘I only presumed they were,’ she said, momentarily falling back on silence. ‘Different, in what way?’ Curious for answers she leaned forward, as far as the building acceleration permitted, placing the tips of her fingers under the tightening belts and feeling her body suddenly rigid. His answer was a shrug as he glanced to the outside. For several moments he remained unexpressive, infused with a multitude of thoughts. ‘Evidence does point to them having been murdered. Ka-Tek wasn’t overenthusiastic about divulging too much information. A hot transmission and everyone starts putting forward outrageous theories of their own, except that the cadavers were left in a rather unusual state.’ ‘Citizens?’ ‘I don’t know, he didn’t elaborate; a character change it must be.’ She surrendered to the safety web, pondering his last words, a flicker of unease crossing her features suggesting an impalpable set of circumstances about to take over their lives. Old feelings stirred deep inside, emotional reactions drawing on past experiences. ‘I need to change into something more suitable,’ she said finally, in a voice sounding distant. ‘I thought you might. That’s where we are headed, back to your apartment. Ka-Tek can wait.’ Listening to the mellow sound of super-charged engines overcoming the retarding forces of friction and air resistance, he shifted in the tight embrace to a more suitable position. It reminded him of soft drizzle on water. They were well over the city maintaining a thousand metres ceiling in order to avoid the pedestrian multitudes utilising gravitron flight-lanes lower down. Endured through time, it was an air-traffic nightmare. An occasional descent was permitted those transporters on official business at a downgraded speed of less than surface-walking; enforced laws in existence for aeons of Shaborriallisian history. Throughout the city at a level several hundred metres above the surface, there was also the availability of transit tubes. There were the higher ones of course but they were few. Tii-Soom gazed out at the city. The congestion of Bas-Kor was evocative of uncountable centuries ever preserved. To her it was never less than intriguing, just how the thousands of machines managed to avoid collisions, flying conveyancers of every conceivable contraption, from the smallest ten-footer privately owned aerocars to cumbrous transporters, and those in-built with power processors generating thermal thrust. The heavier carriers though could not descend lower than the tallest towers. In between, the aero-bikes and their single riders challenging the fly-zones with precision and daring skill, able to avert the constant threat of ejection from magnetised seats. Traffic violations nevertheless were just about nonexistent. Amid titan scrapers with their top floors penetrating wispy, cirrus streaks six and seven kilometres in the air, cerulean eyes swept along paved avenues continuing to the horizon and beyond. Sheer for thousands of metres, their spires glistening sentinels of light, surrounding them were monuments of gleaming glass reaching to woolpacks not quite as high. Mystique and intimacy complemented the vast city at every level. Broad valleys of rubiginous stone and auburn super-structures attributed to the endeavours of human and alien alike over thousands of years. Bas-Kor was twinned with the city of Manrak across the Lod Sea. On the far side of Shaborriallis there were three other continent cities, and like the capital, forest-bound with borders not as expansive. The fourth planet in order of distance from Kace, Shaborriallis shared the system with three inner worlds and two farther out. Twenty-two million kilometres had Baarden the closest of the outer worlds and half the dimension of Shaborriallis, colonised two hundred and sixty-four thousand years previously. On plains where there were no seas the city of Krotus had spread out across the flatlands. Now a city planet, a great number of colonists took up residence on one of the twin moons not long after. It was not that difficult for the first-time visitor to establish the world as the industrial centre with its vast manufacturing plants processing aerospace equipment and machines. For millennia a period of growth and stability remained. Originally Shaborriallisian, the Baardians kept within the boundaries of the federation, never deviating from stringent laws reaching to stellar voids comprising civilisations in the thousands. Two quadrants remained uncharted. Tricon, the sixth planet was a gas giant with a mass forty times that of Shaborriallis and never could be colonised, although there were ore-mining settlements on three of the five orbiting moons. Composed of ammonia and hydrogen sulphide and a mixture of other gases integrated with vast semi-liquid clouds generating perchloric acid rains, the gas giant’s gravitational effects and complex diversity was its signature to the hostile conditions prevailing on all five moons. To pass anywhere near the treacherous outer fringes was a detachment from the living and a challenge to the self-absorbed who valued glory over life itself. Also heavily populated was Igornia, the third planet in line from the Shaborriallisian star, and nineteen million kilometres from the capital; jungle communities occupying expansive areas surrounding a sprinkling of lakes and artificial seas. Its sole importance in the federation was the numerous resorts scattered around all these lakes and seas. On the jungle side vapour-converting fields discouraged any edacious predator. Merson and Petrium were inferior worlds forming a close relationship with Kace, each surface supporting temperatures too hot for organic life, and the only two moonless worlds. ‘Almost there,’ Marsoom said, observing the arrival of alien dignitaries on a high platform, his voice shattering the illusion of idyllic worlds. Tii-Soom stalled her nostalgia. ‘I was lost in thought.’ He glanced sideways at her. ‘I had that feeling. Your preoccupation had you somewhere out there, although careful consideration now has me thinking there’s more to it.’ He jerked his head once over the shoulder to the outside. ‘What happened back there on the beach?’ ‘Nothing,’ she said in denial, hesitatingly. ‘Admiring Bas-Kor. Isn’t that always the case, one’s fondness for the city?’ ‘You like it that much?’ He knew she was evading the question and returned his attention to the dignitaries and found the apron empty. Already their transport was pulling away from the platform, a faultless rise toward the more dangerous speed zones. She looked at him with genuine puzzlement. ‘And the others. Don’t you?’ Her earnest stare caught him off guard. ‘I tolerate our existence on the surface.’
Tii-Soom’s apartment was situated in one of the rustic towers allowing each tenant the choice of two forms of entry: by grav-lifts, or through a beamed energy channel; a directional flow of particles on the outside to whatever floor. Marsoom manoeuvred the aerocar near an illuminative area on the wall. This set in motion the ten-foot channel between the hovering car and the highlighted area that would dematerialise. ‘We still have time to park on the ground floor, it’s up to you.’ Adamantly opposed, she shook her head. ‘The magnetic lock’s already unsealing.’ Happy with her decision, he felt she was considering the time available to them. ‘We won’t be that long anyway.’ They floated through the revolving atom field. The reflecting area to Tii-Soom’s apartment lost its physical properties to remain an impenetrable barrier and faded out, making possible their entrance to the air-cooled confines. Pressure plates triggered under-floor lighting, switching on along each wall individually, with panoramic viewing in vogue across three of the walls, giving to the flat surfaces qualities of surrealism. The floor appeared transparent as if they were crossing on water. Cushioned couches added a sense of comfort to the room and faced a floor-to-ceiling flat screen at one end. Tii-Soom pointed to one side of the screen. ‘Pour yourself a drink while I change into something more appropriate,’ she said as she disappeared into the bedroom. Connected by two areas leading to inner sanctums this room was spacious, subdued light revealing pristine slopes encrusted under snow and silhouettes of summits to dawn horizons. A central position was taken up by the huge bed on a luxurious deep-pile carpet in white and beige. In the lounge the ornate bar extension was a projecting shelf in colour coordination with the surrounding walls, floor and ceiling. By touching any of the delicate pastel-shaded keys the requirement was merely to think of the drink in mind. Marsoom chose lemon and instructions for a Chota Peg. Not long after he pulled back his hand holding the refreshing drink. The beaker felt chilled with contents to quench the harshest of thirsts, just how he liked it. ‘Pour me an oloroso without the essence of any sweetener,’ Tii-Soom called from the bedroom. She was undressed, standing before the holo representation of herself above a circular projection plate. Slowly, both turned side on allowing the right hand to rove down, a tantalising tease, and lower still, stopping at the slight roundness of smooth stomach a fraction below the navel keeping a flattened palm on the warm flesh. Again she faced to the front, inclining her head a little to the left still in admiration of her image. She thought of Marsoom in the next room resorting to patience, a sense of decorum preventing him from entering. If he saw her now she knew his breath would be sucked from within like a vacuuming field sweeping his anatomy. So long together and yet not once had either of them allowed their innermost feelings to influence the respect they held for the other, signs all too obvious to disregard in both their eyes. A swell of barely controlled emotion, with the seeds of passion enriching both her cheeks a deep pink. It was only a matter of time before the pretence could no longer be withheld. Then she shuddered involuntarily at the torment of separation. She wanted their involvement to be everlasting. ‘What’s keeping you?’ he called, a trace of restlessness edging his tone. ‘Won’t be long,’ she giggled and padded over to the apparel cubicle. Under a framework of minute squares, she stood erect, feet touching, eyes and mouth shut, her palms and fingers clapped together overhead. Mind responses fed in a simulacrum: White, one piece, high necked, long sleeved, with a pleochroic zigzag motif hugging the right side. An outfit she chose at random, but one that pleased her. She waited. The sensor slid open a single panel releasing a slowly revolving polymeric cube suspended from one end of a lengthening rubberoid filament. As it descended the faster it spun, the more it moulded, a changing shape. In the first stages a globular ball, an elongating tear next, tumefying until it exceeded its elastic limit and plopped without sound on to the pointing fingers. It began to stretch, a glutinous glide, a soothing even consistency like a living skin leaving in its wake a flexible covering over her head and shoulders, continuing to inches above the floor, then inspissated moulding around and beneath the feet, transforming into xanthic boots from her ankles down. Once completed, she stepped from the cubicle. The overall transmutation into a white contour-hugging uniform leaving her head and hands free, with a six-inch-wide collar angling outwards behind and a point of convergence in front to just below her throat, took no less than nineteen seconds. Tying a scarlet ribbon to cuff the hair, she shook her head allowing it to fall inside the collar. The holo unit in one corner lit up with viridescent flashes of intermittent light. Moments later the head-and-shoulder image formed of a woman in her mid-fifties. Long hair in blue braids fastened behind her head, glamorised the smooth lines of lightly-tanned skin. Above a pert nose and thick-lipped mouth, grey almond eyes gave her the mystique of an unscrupulous flirt with mischievous appeal to most men. She was also Tii-Soom’s best friend, and had been for more than thirty years. A Shuttle captain, she devoted most of her time to her career, punctuated by an occasional sojourn surface-side. ‘Tii-Soom, my location monitors came up blank until I on-lined your apartment.’ Her expression changed to one of amusement. ‘Of course you were intensely self-absorbed, I had little option but to wait until you were finished.’ Tii-Soom laughed as she glanced at the representation of her close friend. ‘I thought it was your off-period?’ The eyes followed her moving about the room. ‘It was … a matter of urgency needed attending to.’ ‘What would we do without them,’ Kan-Lace sighed in agreement. ‘I’m referring to the pressures of our public lives.’ But she knew the off-surface flights controlled her as much as they did Tii-Soom and Marsoom. A life without them would be time spent on a boring home planet where there was no objective reality to one’s existence. She couldn’t think of anything worse. ‘Are we going to see you tonight?’ Tii-Soom asked, smoothing out a waist ripple. ‘The reason for this communication. Taking up some Baardians who have overstayed their visas. Now it’s up to us to get them a systems charter. They never learn, fodder for the stretch-mounds on Hydras if we don’t clear them quickly … Off surface?’ ‘Unfortunately, no. A meeting with Ka-Tek, and if I don’t get a move on Marsoom’s going to be blasting in here like those shuttles you drive so well.’ Kan-Lace smiled. ‘Professional expertise of captains and their pilots, it’s an advantage.’ She blew a kiss and blinked out. ‘What kept you?’ Marsoom inquired as he handed over the oloroso, his eyes suggestive of feelings he failed to hide. On numerous occasions he had seen the outfit and still he found it bewitching. ‘Kan-Lace,’ she answered, peering at him over the rim of her glass while taking a sip. ‘Always comes on holo at the most inappropriate of times, doesn’t she?’ He regarded her in astonishment. ‘I thought she was space-side?’ ‘No, she leaves tonight and won’t be back for some time.’ ‘How fortunate,’ he said quietly, emptying his glass. She frowned. ‘We’ve just come back.’ ‘Seven days, which is far too long,’ he murmured. ‘It does seem longer.’ Tii-Soom handed her glass to the vacuum tube with a mouth shape for an opening. ‘Should we go or do we keep Ka-Tek waiting?’ He grinned at her. ‘That sounds far too tempting.’
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