They went to her room after dinner. “Will you come in?” she said. “It will not take me long to brush my hair, then we can enjoy each other some more.”
Tracker looked puzzled. “What do you mean?”
”We can play with each other, petting and touching, like we did last night.”
His ears sagged in alarm. She saw mingled eagerness and fear in his eyes. “I … I don’t think we should. I … why don’t we go to the lounge and … and watch TV, instead?”
She hesitated a moment, then nodded, disappointment in her dark eyes. “Okay, Tracker. I will be there in ten minutes.” She could read guilt, desire and fear in his body as he turned and left.
She sat on the edge of the bed as she brushed her hair. I was in too much of a hurry, she chided herself. He wanted to, but he was also afraid. By being too eager, I scared him off. What happened yesterday, to make it work? She sat and brushed her hair as she thought. My music, she decided. It relaxed him, so he was not afraid when we started to make love. I must remember this for tomorrow night.
Next morning, on their way to the dining area, they saw a tall willowy woman and Tracker turned. “Antoinette, I want you to meet Laura, Magnum’s wife. She’s an empathic healer.”
”Laura?” he called.
The woman turned and stopped, waiting for them. She wore a cloak wrapped about her slim body and her feet were unshod. Colors flowed smoothly across her hair and any exposed skin. “Hello, Jon.”
Tracker smiled at the warmth in her voice. She always used his real name, never his code name. He was sure that her uncompromising acceptance of him as a person was one of the big reasons that the inhabitants of the Base also accepted him. “Hello, Laura. I want you to meet Antoinette Duval, our newest resident.”
”Welcome, Antoinette. I’m glad you’re here. I’ve heard good things about you.” She reached out empathically and enfolded Antoinette with welcoming acceptance. The French girl glowed with pleasure.
An elderly woman hobbled towards them, leaning heavily on a cane.
”Granny Maggie,” Laura said, linking her arm with the older woman’s. “This is our newest guest, Antoinette Duval. Antoinette, Mrs. Barton.”
”Laura, I declare, you’re tryin’ to give me a swelled head. There ain’t no Miz Barton around here.” The old lady turned to Antoinette, leaning on her cane. “Pleased to meet you, Antoinette. Call me Granny. Miz Barton was my mammy, and she’s been dead nigh on to thirty years. I run the nursery. Don’t suppose you have any children yet?”
Antoinette laughed. “Non, not yet.”
”This whole Base was Laura’s idea,” Tracker said.
”Magnum built the Base. He apparently bought the mountain from a utility company sometime before we met. I just wanted a home where I could live with my own people, and he converted and expanded on what was already here,” Laura replied.
”Thank you for having me here,” Antoinette said
”This is where you belong, with the rest of us. Don’t let me keep you from breakfast.”
Laura watched as they continued across the Plaza, arm in arm. “I’m glad for Jon,” she said to Maggie. “He needs someone like her to love him, someone emotionally intense, caring, and strong-willed.”
Granny leaned on her cane and watched them go. “They do make a right purty sight, don’t they?” Laura nodded.
At her training room session later that day, Frank Austin came down the stairs from the Control Room. “We’ve added a new twist today. We’re going to have the robots moving around the room with you. They will be carrying weapons and they are going to be shooting at Tigresse. The weapons are set on low power so all they’ll do is sting, but it will be enough to distract and maybe even enrage the tiger. The lesson today is for her to avoid getting hit and disable as many robots as she can. Any robot she knocks down will remain out of combat. You two need to coach her and guide her, but stay out of the action. If Tigresse loses her self-control, all the active robots will sit down and I’ll wait until she is back in control.”
Antoinette stripped and warmed up, twisting and stretching. She dropped into a split, touching her head to the floor by her front knee, and then arching back to touch her head to the floor by her back leg. She rolled over onto her belly and grabbed her foot, pulling against it as she twisted her torso as far as possible, then reversed it and twisted her torso the other way. She rolled to her feet and shapechanged. Tigresse stood and watched Tracker and Scott for instructions. A robot emerged from a building. “Tigresse. Subdue,” Scott ordered. She bounded towards the robot. It fired repeatedly at her as she closed. Four more robots appeared. The third shot stung her.
Tigresse snarled with sudden rage and sprang at the robot. Her teeth closed on the robot’s arm and she tore it from the body, then stood, tail lashing. The other robots immediately sat down as the Training Room lights flashed once.
Tracker sped to her side. She shied away as he put his hand on her head. He knelt and looked into her eyes. “Easy, Tigresse,” her murmured. “Antoinette, calm her down.”
After a moment, the wild light went out of her eyes. She butted her head against his shoulder and briefly licked his face, then turned towards the other robots. Tracker stood and signaled to resume the exercise.
Three more times in the next two hours Tigresse got stung hard enough to spark her rage and Tracker had to help calm her. The second time she got stung, she again damaged the ‘bot, but by the end of the session, she learned that merely knocking them down took them out of action. She had also grown more cautious and learned to dodge attacks, charging in a zig-zag pattern to make herself harder to hit and even going intangible to avoid getting shot.
After dinner, Tracker turned to her. “What do you want to do tonight? We could go to the lounge and talk to the others…”
”I would like that. But first, I want to go back to my room and play music on that beautiful guitar you gave me. Would you come with me? I like to have someone to play with … for.”
”Ok, Antoinette.”
She smiled. “Then come. The TV, the conversation, it will wait.” She hugged his arm, then seized his hand and started for her room, humming softly to herself.
She settled herself on the floor, back against her bed, and tuned her guitar. Tracker lay on the floor across from her, resting his muzzle on his hands and watched her. She sang and played softly, sometimes with her eyes closed, sometimes watching him under sultry, half-closed lids. She’d kicked off her sandals and was playing with his fur, running her bare feet across his back. She is aroused, he thought, scenting her musk in the air. She is almost always a little aroused. We mustn’t do anything, but a little play can’t hurt. She feels so good and her music is very nice; better than some I have in HEC’ter.
She sighed. “Your fur feels so wonderful, Tracker,” she said, wriggling her toes against his side. He smiled and covered her toes with the palm of his hand.
After half an hour, she suddenly stopped, laid down the guitar, and turned her back to Tracker. “Tracker, would you please scratch my back? I have the itch.”
He sat up and started to scratch her back, again being careful with his thick claws.
”Ah,” she said as she arched her body, “that feels good.” She stood, stripped and tossed her clothes onto the bed. Then she lay face-down on the rug. “There. Now you can scratch all of my back.” Gently he began to scratch her with tiny, short strokes of his claws from her neck down to her waist. “Lower,” she murmured, “down my legs. The carpet tickles against my skin. And rub with your palms. That’s better,” she added as he complied. As he caressed her, she made little murmuring sounds, squirming slightly under his touch. Giving her pleasure filled him with a warm glow. After a few minutes, she rolled over and sat up, reaching for the fastener of his cape.
Once she had it off, she caught his hands and kissed his fingers. Then pressed him down onto his back, and began to caress his chest. Soon she was sitting astride his hips as she ran both hands through the fur of his chest and belly. She luxuriated in the feel beneath her hands as she leaned forward to nuzzle his face and throat. Her chest brushed through the thick fur of his chest as she did so, causing her to moan softly with delight.
Tracker lay in a daze, half-hypnotized by the pleasure, hardly aware of their position. None of this seemed possible to him. It was too good to be real. Then, with a shock of fear, he realized his body was reacting to her. Embarrassingly so. He froze, dismayed. She couldn’t fail to notice what was happening! He finally understood why humans wore clothing. If it weren’t for the kilt between them, she’d think he wanted to mate with her! He’d never be able to convince her it was unintentional. She’d never trust him again!
She felt him react to her caresses and moved her hips slightly to avoid hurting him. She wished the kilt was not between them, but he was not yet ready for that. She saw immediate proof of that as he tensed beneath her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his ears sag against his head. Non, he is certainly not ready yet, she thought, with a soft smile of affection for his fear. His tail came up between his legs and pressed against her back. She lay forward full-length on him, brought her legs together and trapped his tail between her thighs, then relaxed.
She nuzzled against the side of his neck. “It is all right, mon cher,” she whispered. “Hold me. Just hold me and lie still. Nothing is wrong.” The thick fur of his tail between her thighs aroused her powerfully but she suppressed the urge to move her hips. I must not frighten him more. I must let him know I accept him with no demands on him, she told herself as she relaxed against him. She could smell an acrid odor in the air.
His tension slowly subsided. She smiled at him. “You offered to take me to watch the TV, remember?”
”Uh, yeah. That’s right,” he stammered as he scrambled to his feet, grabbing at his cape. As she dressed and brushed her hair quickly, he refastened his collar and stood by the door. I don’t understand, he thought. She knew what happened. She felt it and she knew. She wasn’t angry. She… liked it? She was clearly aroused. She felt like… she wanted to mate with me. Despite being non-human. Two days ago she was aroused, but not as strongly. I thought I misunderstood her scent. But not this time. There’s no mistake. It’s still rolling off her in waves.
But why? How can she possibly consider mating with me? She’s human, I’m not.
I’m a construct, a tool. I’m not good enough for her. It’s not right for me to mate with her. It’s not right for me to even think about mating with her. Doesn’t she know what will happen to both of us if the other humans discover that we’ve mated?
Perhaps she’s just being kind about it and knows I didn’t mean for it to happen. That’s it. I dare not let it happen again. If I do, she’ll be hurt!
She watched him in the mirror. He is so quiet now, she thought. He was so afraid I would be angry with him. He would have run away again if I had not been on top of him. That sharp odor! Another mark of his fear, she realized in sudden understanding. “There,” she said as she put down the hairbrush. “Let us go.”
