Abduction

CHAPTER ELEVEN

In their own scatological vernacular, Richard and Michael were “scared shitless,” but their unspoken credo was to deny it. Just like their reaction to the perils of saturation diving they responded with a distorted macho bravado designed to conceal their true feelings.

“Do you think those girls we saw earlier will be here at the party?” Richard asked Michael. They had lagged a few steps behind the others en route to the celebration in the pavilion.

“We can always hope,” Michael responded.

They walked in silence for a few steps. They could hear Arak talking with Suzanne and Perry, but they didn’t care to listen.

“Do you really think we were asleep for over a month?” Michael asked.

Richard stopped short. “You’re not going soft on me, are you?”

“No!” Michael insisted. “I was just asking.” Sleep had never been the solace for Michael that it was for others. As a child he used to be plagued with nightmares. After he’d gone to sleep, his father would come home drunk and beat up his mother. When he woke up, he tried to intervene, but the result was always the same: he, too, was beaten. Unfortunately, the process of sleep got inextricably associated with these episodes, so for Michael the idea of being asleep for a month was a source of enormous anxiety.

“Hello!” Richard said while giving Michael a series of slaps on the face. “Anybody home?”

Michael deflected Richard’s irritating jabs. “Cut it out!”

“Remember, we’re not worrying about all this horseshit,” Richard said. “There’s something screwy going on here sure as shooting, but who cares. We’re going to enjoy ourselves, not like that jerk, Fuller. God! Just listening to him talk makes me glad we were tossed out of the freakin’ Navy. Otherwise we’d be taking orders from guys like him.”

“Of course we’re going to enjoy ourselves,” Michael insisted. “But I was just thinking, like, you know, it’s a long time to be zonked.”

“Well, don’t think!” Richard said. “You’ll get yourself all screwed up.”

“All right!” Michael said.

Suzanne called out for them to catch up; she and the others were waiting.

“And to top it all off, we got to deal with old mother hen,” Richard added.

The two divers caught up to the rest of the group, who’d stopped at the base of the steps leading up to the pavilion entrance.

“Is everything okay?” Suzanne asked them.

“Peachy,” Richard said, forcing a smile.

“Arak just told us something you two might find interesting,” Suzanne said. “I assume you’ve noticed how it is getting dark as if the sun had set.”

“We noticed,” Richard said testily.

“They have night and day down here,” Suzanne said. “And we learned the light comes from bioluminescence.”

The two divers tilted their heads back to look straight up.

“I see stars,” Michael said.

“Those are relatively small pinpoints of blue-white bioluminescence,” Arak said. “It was our intent to re-create the world as we knew it, which certainly included the circadian cycle. The difference from your world is that our days and nights are longer, and they are the same length year-round. Of course our years are longer as well.”

“So you lived in the external world before you moved down here,” Suzanne said.

“Absolutely,” Arak answered.

“When did you make the move?” Suzanne asked.

Arak held up his hands defensively. He laughed. “We are getting ahead of ourselves. I’m not supposed to be encouraging you to ask questions this evening. Remember, that’s to be tomorrow.”

“Just one more,” Perry pleaded. “It’s an easy one, I’m sure. Where do you get all your energy down here?”

Arak sighed with exasperation.

“It’s the last question, I promise,” Perry said. “At least for tonight.”

“And you are a man of your word?” Arak questioned.

“For sure,” Perry said.

“Our energy comes from two main sources,” Arak said. “First is geothermal by tapping the earth’s core. But that creates the problem of getting rid of excess heat, which we do in two ways. One by allowing magma to well up along what you people call the mid-oceanic ridge, and two by cooling with circulated seawater. The seawater heat exchange requires a large volume, which does provide us an opportunity to filter out plankton. The downside is that the process creates oceanic currents, but you people have learned to live with them, particularly the one you call the Gulf Stream.

“The second source of energy is from fusion. We split water into oxygen, which we breath, and hydrogen, which we fuse. But this is the kind of discussion we’ll be having tomorrow. Tonight I want you to experience and enjoy, mostly enjoy.”

“And we aim to do just that,” Richard said. “But tell me, is this going to be a wet or dry party?”

“I’m afraid that is a term I’m not familiar with,” Arak said.

“It refers generally to alcohol,” Richard said. “Do you people have any on hand?”

“But of course,” Arak said. “Wine, beer, and a particularly pure spirit we call crystal. The wine and the beer are similar to what you are used to. But the crystal is different, and I advise you to go easy until you are accustomed to it.”

“No need to worry, bro,” Richard said. “Michael and I are professionals.”

“Let’s party!” Michael said enthusiastically.

Perry and Suzanne had to be nudged forward. Both had been bowled over by Arak’s explanations, particularly Suzanne. All at once she had answers to two of the mysteries of oceanography, namely, why magma wells up at the mid-oceanic ridges and why there are oceanic currents, particularly the Gulf Stream. The answers to both questions had completely eluded scientists.

The group climbed the stairs with Arak in the lead. As they passed between two of the massive columns supporting the domed roof, Suzanne caught sight of Richard’s overeager expression. Worried what his conduct might be under the influence, she leaned toward him and whispered, “Remember to behave yourself.”

Richard glanced at her. His expression was one of scornful disbelief.

“I’m serious, Richard,” Suzanne added. “We have no idea what we are up against, and we don’t want to put ourselves in any more jeopardy than we already are. If you have to drink, do it sparingly.”

“Drop dead!” Richard said. He quickened his pace and caught up to Arak just as two oversized bronze doors swung open.

The first thing that greeted the visitors was the murmur of thousands of excited voices as they reverberated around the pavilion’s vast, white marbled interior. The level they’d entered formed a ballustraded balcony that ran around the circular hall. Together the group moved to the top of a grand staircase and looked down.

“Talk about a party!” Richard cried. “My god! There must be a thousand people here.”

“We could have had ten thousand if we’d had the room,” Arak told them.

In the center of the huge domed ballroom was a round pool illuminated in such a way as to make it appear like an enormous aquamarine cabochon jewel. Surrounding the pool was a foot-high, ten-foot-wide lip. Numerous stairways connected the balcony to the level below.

The floor of the pavilion was packed with people. Everyone was dressed in the same simple white satin outfits except for an occasional worker clone in their usual black. The worker clones were carrying large trays loaded with golden goblets and food. Each guest sported a velvet ribbon tied around his or her neck just like the one Arak had on. Only the color varied, not the size, the shape, or the way it was tied. And as before, everyone was strikingly beautiful or handsome.

Word that the visitors had arrived spread like wildfire through the crowd. Conversations stopped and faces tilted up. It was a dramatic sight to look down on so many silently expectant people.

Arak raised his hands over his head with his palms toward the audience. “Greetings to everyone! I am pleased to announce that all our visitors, save one, have graciously deigned to come to our celebration of their arrival to Saranta.”

A general cheer erupted from the audience as everyone lifted their arms, mirroring Arak’s gesture.

“Come!” Arak said. He motioned for the group to follow him as he started down the broad flight of stairs.

Richard and Michael scampered forward eagerly, followed by a more hesitant Suzanne and Perry.

“This is too much!” Richard whispered in excitement. “Look at the women! It looks like a Victoria’s Secret slumber party.”

“Every one of them could be a centerfold,” Michael responded.

“It’s hard to keep this all in perspective,” Suzanne whispered to Perry. “I feel like we’re in a 1950’s Cecil B. DeMille movie spectacular.”

“I know what you mean,” Perry answered. “It also gives me an idea what it’s like to be a rock star. These people are really happy to see us. And look how young everybody is. Most of these people appear as if they’re in their early twenties.”

“True, but there’s a significant number of children,” Suzanne said. “I can see a few that can’t be any more than three or four.”

“Not very many senior citizens,” Perry commented.

At the base of the stairs the people shrank back as the group descended, but as soon as they reached the floor, the crowd surged forward with their hands held up, palms forward.

Suzanne and Perry instinctively retreated a few steps back despite the obvious warmth of the crowd. In contrast Richard and Michael allowed themselves to be engulfed. The two divers soon realized that the crowd wanted physical contact with their hands, and the divers happily reached out to touch the palms that sought theirs. It was a greeting similar to the one Arak had employed when he’d first welcomed Suzanne earlier.

“I love you all,” Richard cried out, to the pleasure of the Interterrans in his immediate vicinity, but he selectively chose the palms of young, beautiful women as he worked his way through the crowd. In his enthusiasm he even grabbed a few and kissed them-which brought the festivity to a sudden, screeching halt.

Richard eyed the women he’d kissed and wondered for a fleeting moment if he should retreat up the stairs. The stunned women proceeded to touch their lips, then examine their fingers as if they expected to see blood. Clearly kissing was not part of the Interterrans’ normal salutational repertoire. Richard glanced guiltily at Michael, who was equally tense at the precipitous change in the mood of the crowd. “I couldn’t help myself,” Richard explained.

Three women he’d kissed looked at each other and burst out laughing. Then all three launched themselves simultaneously at Richard to return the gesture. The crowd cheered with delight and pressed in around the two divers even more. After several fumbled attempts at kissing, the three women graciously moved away to make room for others.

A sly smile spread across Richard’s face. “Looks like we’re going to be teaching these chicks a thing or two,” he said beaming. He felt encouraged enough to be even more demonstrative. Michael, seeing Richard’s successes, quickly followed suit. But soon their activities were interrupted by a worker clone who had responded to a suggestion of Arak’s to give their guests something to drink. The clones arrived and pressed golden goblets into their hands.

Even Suzanne and Perry’s reserve began to erode in the face of the infectious conviviality. They were surrounded by friendly, beautiful people eager to press palms with them. Some of the welcomes were the very young children Suzanne had seen when they’d first arrived. Suzanne asked one of them her age after being impressed by her flawless English and apparent intelligence.

“How old are you?” the child asked without answering Suzanne’s question.

Suzanne was about to respond when a man who could have played a Greek god in the Cecil B. DeMille movie she’d imagined asked her if she lived with a mate. Before Suzanne could answer this curious question an older man, no less attractive, asked her if she knew her parents.

“Just a moment here,” Arak said, coming between Suzanne and her admirers. “As you all know, we have specifically told our guests that their questions must wait until tomorrow. It is only fair that ours wait as well. Tonight is to celebrate this wonderful event for Saranta and to enjoy.”

“Hey, Arak!” Richard yelled from the center of a group of fans. He was holding up his golden goblet. “Is this the crystal liquor you were talking about?”

“It is indeed,” Arak called out.

“It’s fantastic!” Richard yelled back. “I really dig it.”

“I’m glad,” Arak said.

“One other thing,” Richard yelled. “Don’t you guys have any music? I mean, what’s a party without music?”

“Right on,” Michael yelled.

“Workers, music!” Arak shouted over the din. Within moments background music miraculously could be heard over the babble. It was as soothing as the music in the decon living quarters.

Michael let out a contemptuous laugh.

“I’m not talking about elevator music,” Richard shouted back at Arak. “I mean something with some base and a beat. Something we can dance to.”

Arak barked another order to the worker clones and soon the music changed.

Richard and Michael exchanged bewildered glances. The music had more base and a beat, but with its strange syncopation it was not like any music they had ever heard.

“What the hell is this?” Michael asked. He cocked his head to the side to listen better.

“Beats me,” Richard said. He closed his eyes and moved his head in an undulating fashion. At the same time he took a few unsteady steps and swiveled his hips. His movements brought some giggles from the girls he’d amassed around him.

“You like that, huh?” Richard questioned.

The women nodded.

Richard brought his goblet to his lips and tossed off the entire drink, to the surprise of the people around him. Putting the vessel on the floor he grabbed the hand of the nearest woman and charged toward the raised platform surrounding the pool in the center of the arena. With lots of laughter the crowd gave way and shouted encouragement to the couple. Reaching his goal, Richard leaped up and dragged the woman with him. He turned to face her and was momentarily taken aback by her beauty. Having seen so many beautiful people he’d already had begun to take it for granted, but he was particularly struck by this one’s looks.

“You’re gorgeous!” he whispered, his words slightly slurred.

“Thank you,” she said. “You’re attractive as well.”

“You think so?” Richard asked.

“You’re very entertaining,” the woman said.

“I’m glad,” Richard said. He then had to take a lateral step to regain his balance. For a second the image of the woman went out of focus. He was feeling light-headed.

“Are you all right?” the woman asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Richard assured her. He could feel the ends of his fingers tingling. “That crystal stuff packs a wallop.”

“It’s my favorite,” the woman said.

“Then it’s mine, too,” Richard said. “Hey, do you want to learn to dance?”

“What does that mean exactly?” the woman asked.

“Like I was doing before,” Richard said. “Only we do it together.”

Richard closed his eyes and repeated his earlier gyrations. It only lasted for a second since he had to open his eyes to catch his balance a second time. The crowd responded with cheers and applause. They shouted for more.

Richard faced out into the audience and did an exaggerated bow. There were more cheers. Turning back to the woman, Richard began to strut, twist, and shake as best as he could to the music. The woman watched him with great interest and amusement but had trouble imitating him. The only thing she was able to do with any degree of accomplishment was raise her hands in the air and move them as Richard was doing.

“Let me show you,” Richard said. He reached out and grasped the woman about the hips and tried to get her to shake rhythmically. She couldn’t get the idea but found her awkward attempts hilarious. So did the crowd.

Suzanne and Perry watched with understandable misgivings. Suzanne told Perry she was worried that Richard was drunk, and Perry agreed. But they couldn’t help but notice how much the crowd was enjoying his antics.

“Your friend is very amusing,” a voice said behind Perry. He turned to face a darling young woman whom he guessed to be around eighteen. She had lively light blue eyes that reminded him of Suzanne’s and an infectious smile. She reached out with her palm. Perry pressed his against hers self-consciously; he could feel his face flush. The woman was disarmingly attractive and several inches taller than he.

“My name is Luna,” the woman said in a voice that made Perry’s knees feel weak.

“I’m Perry.”

“I know,” Luna said. “You are very appealing. I see you have whiter teeth than Richard.”

Perry blushed even more. He nodded. “Thank you,” he managed to say.

Luna’s eyes drifted out toward the center of the arena. “Can you dance like Richard?”

Perry glanced back at the diver, who was now doing an interpretation of break dancing. At that moment he was on his back spinning around with his legs thrust up in the air.

“I can, I suppose,” Perry said noncommittally. “Maybe not quite as well as Richard. He’s a bit more extroverted than I. But to tell you the truth, I haven’t tried dancing for a few years.”

“I think Richard is as good as an entertainment clone,” Luna said. She seemed to be mesmerized by Richard, who was now moon walking to the enjoyment of the crowd.

“That’s a compliment I bet Richard has never gotten before,” Perry said.

Forever the follower, Michael took the hand of one of the women surrounding him and joined Richard on the pool’s raised border. No sooner had he started to dance than a dozen other women stepped up on the platform to join in.

There was now a bevy of beautiful women surrounding Richard and Michael, trying to move their arms and swivel their hips in imitation of the two tipsy divers. But it was not easy. Even the divers were having trouble coordinating their movements to the peculiar beat of the music.

Several of the more adventuresome young Interterran men climbed onto the platform to attempt the strange dance. Richard was not amused. Without interrupting his gyrations, he worked his way over to each of the men in turn. With sudden, exaggerated movements of his hips, he knocked each in turn off the platform. The crowd and even the men themselves loved it, thinking it was all part of the exercise.

After a half hour of uninterrupted dancing, the limits of endurance were reached. Forever the leader, Richard swept his arms out and grabbed as many women as he could before collapsing in giggles to the floor. Michael aped Richard’s maneuver, adding to the pile to create a tangle of legs, arms, and lightly clad, perspiring torsos. The recumbent divers didn’t mind keeping up with the palm pressing, and the women were happy to return the favor with kisses. At Arak’s suggestion, worker clones rushed up with more drinks.

“This place is a dream come true,” Michael cried after taking a swig from his freshly filled goblet.

“Poor Mazzola,” Richard said. “Good old bell diver misses all the fun.”

“What do you think this crystal liquor is made from?” Michael asked. He peered into his glass. The fluid was completely transparent.

“Who cares?” Richard squealed as he reached out and gave an exuberant one-armed hug to one of the women pressed up against his chest. In the process he spilled his drink on his chest to the merriment of all who noticed.

“Michael, I have something for you,” a blue-eyed, dark brunette said.

“What, gorgeous?” Michael asked. He was on his back, gazing up at the inverted image of the woman who was standing next to the raised platform. She smiled and held up a small jar.

“I want you to try some caldorphin,” she said as she unscrewed the jar’s top. She extended the jar toward Michael, who used his free hand to scoop out a glob of the creamy contents. “That’s a bit more than you need,” she said, “but it’s okay.”

“Sorry,” Michael said. “What do I do with it?” He brought it to his nose and sniffed. It was odorless.

“Rub it on your hand,” she said. “I’ll do the same and then we touch palms.”

“Hey, Richie,” Michael said as he rolled over and sat up. “Here’s something new.” Richard didn’t respond. He was busy getting another refill of crystal.

Michael rubbed the cream on his palm and then looked up at the attractive woman who’d given it to him. She had a dreamy look about her, her eyes were half closed. Slowly she raised her hand, and Michael pressed his palm against hers.

The reaction for Michael was swift and overpowering. His eyes shot open, then closed in utter pleasure. For a few minutes of rapturous ecstasy he couldn’t move. When he was finally able to, he snatched the jar away from the woman. He reached over and yanked on Richard’s arm.

“Richie!” Michael yelled. “You got to try this stuff.”

Richard tried to detach himself from Michael’s grasp, but Michael hung on. “Hey, can’t you see I’m occupied,” Richard said. He was trying to kiss two women at the same time.

“Richie, you got to try this stuff,” Michael repeated. He held out the jar.

“What the hell is it?” Richard said. He pushed himself up on one elbow.

“It’s hand cream,” Michael said.

“You’re interrupting me to try some hand cream?” Richard couldn’t believe it. “What’s the matter with you?”

“Try it,” Michael said. “It’s like no hand cream you’ve ever tried. It’s better than coke. I tell you it’s dynamite!”

Sighing, Richard reached out and took a small amount of the cream and rubbed it on his hands. He looked up at Michael. “So, now what’s supposed to happen?”

“Press your palm against one of the girl’s,” Michael said.

Richard beckoned one of the two he’d just been kissing, but she motioned for him to wait. She took a bit of the cream for herself, rubbed it into her palm, and then pressed hers against Richard’s. The result was the same as it had been for Michael. It took Richard a full minute to pull out of the blissful delirium that enveloped him.

“Oh, my god” Richard cried. “That was like an orgasm. Gimme some more!”

Michael snatched the jar away from his groping hand.

“Find your own,” he said.

Richard made another lunge for the jar, but Michael batted his hand away.

Perry was in the middle of explaining to Luna what it meant to be the president of Benthic Marine when he felt someone tap him on the shoulder. It was Suzanne. She looked concerned.

“Richard and Michael are starting to quarrel,” Suzanne said. “I’m worried. Arak is seeing to it that their glasses are never empty, and they’re already very drunk.”

“Uh-oh!” Perry said. “That could spell trouble.” He glanced in the divers’ direction and saw them pushing and shoving each other.

“I think we’d better walk out there and try to control them,” Suzanne said.

“I guess you’re right,” Perry said. He hated to leave Luna.

“Let them have their fun,” a voice said behind Suzanne. “Everyone is enjoying them. They’re quite lively.” She turned to find the same man who’d asked her if she lived with a mate.

“We’re afraid their behavior could become disruptive,” Suzanne said. “We don’t want to take advantage of your hospitality.”

“Let Arak worry about their behavior,” the man said. “As you can see, he is encouraging their drinking.”

“I noticed that,” Suzanne said. “It’s not a good idea.”

“Leave it up to Arak,” the man said. “It’s his job to take care of them, not yours. Besides, I’d like to talk with you in private for a moment.”

“You would?” Suzanne responded. She was nonplused by the request. She glanced back at the divers and was relieved to see they’d stopped their squabbling and had settled back down into their bevy of reclining women. Suzanne looked at Perry, wondering if he’d heard the man’s request. He had. Perry smiled mischievously and gave Suzanne an encouraging nudge.

“Why not?” Perry whispered leaning toward her. “We’re supposed to be enjoying ourselves, and the diver emergency has passed for the time being.”

“It will be just for a moment,” the man said.

“What do you mean, ‘in private’?” Suzanne asked. She took in the stranger’s chiseled features and liquid eyes and felt her heart skip a beat. She’d never seen a man quite so classically handsome, much less spoken with one.

“Well, not really in private,” the man said with a disarming smile. “I thought we could just withdraw a few steps or perhaps climb the stairs to the balcony. I only wish to be able to speak to you alone for a moment.”

“Well, I suppose,” Suzanne said. She looked back at Perry.

“I’ll be right here,” Perry said, “with Luna.”

Suzanne let herself be led up the stairs.

“My name is Garona,” the man said as they climbed.

“Mine is Suzanne Newell,” Suzanne responded.

“That I know,” Garona said. “Dr. Suzanne Newell, to be precise.”

They reached the top of the stairs and leaned against the balustrade. Below, it was apparent the gala was a great success: laughter and lively conversation drifted up from the throng. Most people were milling around the central pool area where the divers and their harem were the focus of attention. The crowd was orderly, gracious, and respectful. Those closest to the dancing were constantly giving way so that those on the periphery could move up to get a close-up view.

“Thank you for giving me this moment,” Garona said. “It’s unfair for me to monopolize your time.”

“It’s quite all right,” Suzanne said. “It’s a relief of sorts to step back and get this overview.”

“I had to talk with you to tell you I find you irresistible,” Garona said.

Suzanne peered into Garona’s handsome face. She expected to see at least a faint vestige of a sly smile. Instead he was regarding her with a warm, smiling intensity that suggested utter sincerity.

“Run that by me again,” Suzanne said.

“I find you absolutely irresistible,” Garona repeated.

“You do?” Suzanne asked. She chuckled nervously.

“Truly,” Garona said.

Suzanne’s eyes wandered back to the crowd to give her a chance to process this unexpected encounter. She hesitated before turning back to him. “You’re very flattering, Garona,” she said. “At least I think you are. So I’m sorry if I seem skeptical, but with all these absolutely gorgeous and flawless females, I find it a bit hard to believe you’d be interested in me. I mean, I know my limitations. In the irresistible arena, I’m no competition for any of these women here.”

Garona’s smile never faltered. “Perhaps it is hard for you to believe,” he said. “But nonetheless it is true.”

“Well, than I am sincerely flattered,” Suzanne said. “But perhaps you could tell me why you find me so irresistible.”

“It’s hard to put into words,” Garona said.

“At least give it a try,” Suzanne said.

“I suppose I’d have to say it involves your freshness or your innocence. Or perhaps it’s your alluring primitiveness.”

“Primitiveness?” Suzanne echoed. “That’s how Arak characterized Richard.”

“Well, he definitely has it, too,” Garona said.

“And that’s supposed to be a compliment?” Suzanne asked.

“Here in Interterra it is,” Garona said.

“What exactly is Interterra?” Suzanne asked. “And how long has it been in existence?”

Garona smiled patronizingly and shook his head. “I’ve been warned against answering any questions other than purely personal ones about myself.”

Suzanne rolled her eyes. “Sorry,” she said with a touch of sarcasm. “I guess it just slipped out.”

“It’s quite all right.”

“So, I have to think up some personal questions?”

“If you’d like,” Garona said.

“Well…” Suzanne said as she tried to think of one. “Have you always lived down here?”

Garona roared with laughter, loudly enough to attract the attention of two men on the floor below. They looked up, waved when they recognized Garona, and began making their way toward the stairs.

“I’m sorry I laughed,” he said, “but your question underlines how wonderfully innocent you are. It’s so refreshing. I’d love to get better acquainted. When you have had enough of the festivities and you want to leave, let me know. I’d love to take you to your room. We can spend some intimate time together pressing palms, just you and I. What do you say?”

Suzanne’s mouth slowly dropped open as the true meaning of Garona’s proposal dawned on her. She laughed mockingly. “Garona, I don’t believe this,” she said. “Only a short time ago I thought I was going to die. Now I’m in a fantasyland with a great-looking guy making a pass at me and wanting to come to my room. How am I supposed to respond?”

“Just say yes,” Garona said.

“I’m afraid I’m a little too stunned to reply so smoothly.”

“I can appreciate that,” Garona said. “But I can comfort you and make you relax.”

Suzanne shook her head. “I don’t think you understand. I’m having trouble just thinking straight.”

“You excite me,” Garona said. “You enthrall me. I want to be with you.”

“I have to give you high marks for persistence,” Suzanne said.

“We will talk more later,” Garona said. “Here come two of my friends.”

Suzanne turned to see the two men who’d been roused by Garona’s outburst of laughter mount the top step of the main stairway and approach. She couldn’t help but notice that both were as attractive as Garona. They walked arm in arm, like two lovers.

“Greetings, Tarla and Reesta,” Garona said. “Have you met our honored guest, Dr. Suzanne Newell?”

“Not yet,” the two men said in unison. “We were hoping to have the honor.” They both bowed elegantly.

Suzanne forced a smile. This was all so enchantingly odd. She felt it all had to be a dream.

Richard knew he was drunk, but he’d certainly been drunker in the past. His inebriation didn’t seem to deter any of the women who were still flocking around him. He was aware the faces of the women changed as he danced, meaning there was a rotation of sorts, but it didn’t matter since they were all so beautiful.

Without meaning to, he bumped up against Michael hard enough to knock both of them off balance. They collapsed to the floor, too limp to hurt themselves. When they realized what had happened, they laughed so hard, they brought tears to their eyes.

“What a party!” Michael cried when he’d recovered enough to speak. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.

“Nobody’s going to believe us when we get home,” Richard said. “Especially when we tell them that every single chick is available. I mean, it’s like a turkey shoot. It’s unreal.”

“The men down here just don’t care,” Michael said. “Hey, look at that girl over there.”

“Which one?” Richard asked. He rolled over and tried to follow Michael’s line of sight through the milling crowd. His eyes finally came to rest on a statuesque redhead walking arm in arm with a young boy.

“Wow,” he said.

“I saw her first,” said Michael.

“Yeah, but I’m going to get her first.”

“No way.”

“Screw you,” Richard said as he scrambled to his feet.

Michael reached out and grabbed one of Richard’s legs and tripped him. He fell head first and skidded off the edge of the platform, striking his forehead on the floor. He wasn’t hurt, but he was angry, especially when Michael tried to run past him toward the girl.

Richard managed to put a foot out in time to trip Michael. As he tried to get up, Richard threw himself on top of him. Then he grabbed the front of his tunic and punched him in the nose.

The sudden violence caused the party-goers to shrink back in alarm. A collective gasp was uttered as Michael’s nose began to bleed.

Michael bucked Richard off his body and got his legs under him. Richard tried to do the same, but Michael caught him on the side of the head with a blow that sent him sprawling back to the floor.

“Come on, you bastard,” Michael taunted. “Get up and fight.” Blood trickled down the front of his chin and dripped onto the floor. He swayed on his feet.

Richard got to his hands and knees. He looked up at Michael. “You’re a dead man,” he growled.

“Come on, you twerp!” Michael responded.

Richard pushed himself up to a standing position, but he, too, was unsteady on his feet.

Arak, who’d been at some distance from the divers when their melee started, pushed through the stunned and silent crowd. He stepped between the two drunken divers.

“Please,” he said. “Whatever is the problem we can resolve it.”

“Outta my way,” Richard spat. He shoved Arak to the side and launched a roundhouse blow to Michael’s head. Michael ducked but lost his balance in the process and fell to the floor. Richard lost his balance when the blow failed to connect.

“Worker clones, restrain the guests!” Arak yelled.

Richard and Michael both managed to get themselves upright and throw several more ineffectual punches before two large male worker clones intervened. Each grabbed a diver in a bear hug. Richard and Michael continued trying to hit each other until they were moved a body length apart. At that moment Perry pushed through the crowd.

“Have you idiots forgotten where you are?” Perry shouted. “For chrissake, no fighting! What’s the matter with you two?”

“He started it,” Richard said.

“He started it,” Michael said.

“No, he did.”

“No, it was him.”

Before Perry could respond to this juvenile tit-for-tat, the divers suddenly broke out laughing. Every time they tried to look at each other they laughed harder. Soon everyone but Perry and the worker clones were laughing as well. At Arak’s command the worker clones let go of the divers, who immediately exchanged high fives.

“What was the fighting about?” Arak asked Perry.

“Too much of your crystal,” Perry said.

“Perhaps we should switch them to a less potent drink,” Arak said.

“Either that or cut them off completely,” Perry said.

“But I don’t want to ruin the party,” Arak said. “Everyone is enjoying them immensely.”

“It’s your party,” Perry said.

Richard and Michael started back toward the platform.

“I tell you what,” Richard whispered to Michael. “We’ll make it fair. I’ll shoot you for the redhead.”

“Okay,” Michael said.

“You call,” Richard said. “Odds or evens.”

“Evens,” Michael said.

On the count of three, they both threw out a single finger. Michael smiled with satisfaction. “Justice!” he exclaimed.

“Crap!” Richard said.

“Now where the hell is she?” Michael questioned. The two divers scanned the crowd.

“There she is,” Richard said. He pointed. “And she’s still with the little squirt.”

“I’ll be back in a flash,” Michael said. He made a beeline for the woman whom he noticed was watching his approach with great interest.

“Hi, baby,” Michael said, avoiding making eye contact with the preteen beside her. “My name is Michael.”

“My name is Mura. Are you hurt?”

“Hell, no,” Michael said. “A little tap on the nose doesn’t hurt old Michael. No way.”

“We are not accustomed to seeing blood,” Mura said.

“Listen!” Michael said, “How would you like to come over and rub palms with me? We got our own little party going on over by the pool.”

“I’d love to touch palms with you,” Mura said. “But first, may I introduce Sart?”

“Yeah, hi, Sart,” Michael said offhandedly. “You’ve got a great looking mother here, but why don’t you go off and play with some friends.”

Both Mura and Sart giggled. Michael wasn’t amused.

“Pretty funny, huh?” he questioned irritably.

“Unexpected is a better word,” Mura managed.

Michael reached out and took Mura’s arm. “Come on, honey.” To the youngster he said, “See you later, Sart.”

With Mura in tow, Michael strutted with a few unplanned wobbles back to Richard and the rest of the group. Richard had singled out two women who were particularly demonstrative in their affection for him. He introduced them as Meeta and Palenque. One was blond and the other brunette, and both were incredibly voluptuous.

“Richie, meet Mura,” Michael said proudly.

Richard pretended not to notice the striking redhead. Instead he pointed over Michael’s shoulder and asked about the preteen. Michael looked behind and was irritated to see the boy had tagged along.

“Beat it, kid,” Michael snapped.

Mura ignored Michael and encouraged Sart to step forward. She introduced him to Richard.

“Hey, nice to meet you, Sart,” Richard said. “You, too, Mura. Why don’t you two take a load off and sit down?”

“We’d enjoy that,” Mura said.

“Indeed,” Sart added.

Michael rolled his eyes in frustrated irritation as Richard managed to preempt his triumph. For a moment he considered cold-cocking Richard on the spot.

“Hey, you, too, Mikey,” Richard goaded. “Come on, buddy, take a seat and relax! It’ll do you good. After all, we’re all one big, happy family.”

That comment brought giggles from all the Interterrans within earshot, only adding to Michael’s embarrassment. He swallowed his pride and sat down.

“Listen, Mikey,” Richard continued. “My little blond bombshell, Meeta, just told me something interesting. Everybody loves to swim in Interterra.”

“No kidding,” Michael said, lightening up. “Did you mention that we were professionals?”

“Of course,” Richard said. “But I’m not convinced they quite got what I was talking about. Seems that the idea of work is not something they can relate to.”

“If you swim for work, does that mean you like to swim?” Meeta asked.

“Sure we like to swim,” Michael said.

“Well, why don’t we all take a dip?” Meeta suggested.

“Why not,” Mura agreed. “You people need to cool down.”

“I think it is a wonderful idea,” Sart said.

Richard looked at the inviting aquamarine pool. “Are you talking about swimming right now?” he asked.

“What time could be better?” Palenque said. “We’re all so warm and sweaty.”

“But our clothes,” Richard said. “We’ll be sopping.”

“We don’t wear clothes when we swim,” Meeta said.

Richard looked at Michael. “This place just keeps getting better and better,” he said.

“Well?” Meeta questioned. “What do the professional swimmers say?”

Richard swallowed. He was afraid to say anything lest he wake up.

“I say we go for it,” Michael cried.

“Wonderful!” Meeta said. She leaped to her feet and helped Palenque to hers. Sart got up and gave Mura a hand. In the blink of an eye the Interterrans unabashedly threw off their tunics and stepped out of their shorts. In their naked nubile splendor, they all dove cleanly into the water and swam out toward the center of the pool with strong, practiced strokes.

Richard and Michael were momentarily too stunned to follow. Instead they glanced around at the people in the immediate vicinity. To their added surprise, no one had taken much notice other than Perry. Then Richard and Michael’s eyes met.

“What the hell are we waiting for?” Richard asked as he smiled drunkenly.

In a rush, the two divers clumsily struggled to get out of their clothes. At the same time, they made a dash for the pool. Michael had trouble with his shorts and ended up tripping. Richard was more successful and was soon racing toward the shallow area at the center of the pool.

On his arrival Richard was literally set upon by Meeta and Palenque who playfully and repeatedly dunked him. Richard took the harassment from the naked beauties gleefully but was soon out of breath. By the time Michael arrived and engaged in similar activities with Mura, since Sart and Palenque had swum to the far end of the pool, Richard was content to languish in a place where he and Meeta could sit with their heads above the surface.

“Richard, Richard, Richard,” Meeta cried happily as she repeatedly pressed her palm against his and stroked his head. “You are the most primitively attractive visitor we’ve ever had in Saranta. Maybe in all of Interterra for at least several thousand years.”

“I thought only my mother appreciated me,” Richard said jokingly.

“You knew your mother?” Meeta questioned. “How quaint.”

“Of course I knew my mother,” Richard said. “Don’t you know yours?”

“No,” Meeta said with a laugh. “No one in Interterra knows his mother. But let’s not get into that. Instead, why don’t you take me to your room?”

“Now there’s an idea,” Richard said. “But what about your friend Palenque? What will we say to her?”

“Anything you like,” Meeta said unconcernedly. “But it’s easiest to just ask her. I’m sure she’ll want to come. And Karena. I know she wants to come, too.”

Richard tried to act nonchalant, but he was afraid his surprise at this unexpected good fortune was all too apparent. At the same time with this auspicious turn of events, he wished he hadn’t drunk quite so much.

It was a boisterous group that set out from the pavilion to the dining hall. Suzanne, Perry, and the divers were singing old Beatles songs at the top of their lungs to the delight of their companions who, surprisingly, knew the words. Suzanne was walking with Garona, Perry with Luna, Richard with Meeta, Palenque, and Karena, and Michael with Mura and Sart.

Although Suzanne and Perry had resisted drinking very much, what they had drunk had gone to their heads. They were not nearly as drunk as Richard and Michael, but both recognized they were tipsy. They were also enjoying themselves immensely.

Arak had bid them farewell as the gala wound down and promised to meet with them in the morning. He had wished them a pleasant rest and had thanked them for coming to the celebration.

“Hey,” Richard called out when they’d finished a rendition of “Come Together.” “Don’t you guys know any songs of your own?”

“Of course,” Meeta said. Immediately the Interterrans burst into song, and although the words were in English, the beat was as irregular as the music at the gala had been.

“Cut!” Richard cried out. “That sounds too weird. Let’s go back to the Beatles.”

“Richard, let’s be fair,” Suzanne said.

“It’s all right,” Meeta said. “We’d rather sing your songs.”

“Michael? What the hell are you doing with the glasses?” Richard asked when he saw that his partner was carrying several empty goblets.

“I asked Arak,” Michael said. “He told me I could take them. They’re gold. I bet I have enough money here for a down payment on a new pickup truck.”

Richard leaned over and snatched one of the goblets.

“Hey, gimme that back,” Michael demanded.

Richard laughed. “Go out for a pass. I’ll hit you long!”

Michael handed the rest of the goblets to Mura. Then he staggered ahead for the pass. Richard tossed the goblet like a football, and it spiraled into Michael’s hands. Everyone clapped. Michael took a bow, lost his balance, and fell. Everyone giggled and clapped harder.

“We have pets that play that game,” Mura said.

“I saw some pets when we were flying in,” Suzanne said. “They looked like composite creatures.”

“They are,” Mura said.

“Do you have sports games down here?” Richard asked.

Michael came back and collected the rest of his goblets.

“No, we don’t have sports,” Meeta said. “Unless you mean mind games, things like that.”

“Hell, no!” Richard said. “I mean like hockey or football.”

“No,” Meeta said. “We don’t have physical competition.”

“Why not?” Richard asked.

“It’s not necessary,” Meeta said. “And it is unhealthy.”

Richard glanced at Michael. “No wonder the men are all such wimps,” he said. Michael nodded.

“How about ‘Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds,’ ” Suzanne suggested. “It seems so apropos.”

A few moments later, still singing the refrain, the group stumbled into the dining hall. It was dark, but the Interterrans somehow brought up the illumination. Perry was about to ask how it was done when he noticed Donald. The former naval officer had been sitting silently in the dark. His face was as grim as it had been when they’d left for the celebration.

“My gosh,” Richard said. “Mr. Straight Arrow is right where we left him.”

Michael proudly deposited his cache of golden goblets on the table with fanfare.

Richard lurched over to a position across the table from Donald. He dragged the three women with him like trophies. “Well, Admiral Fuller,” he said in a mocking tone while comically saluting. “I guess you can tell by our present company and booty that you really missed out.”

“I’m sure I did,” Donald said sarcastically.

“You can’t imagine how great it was, smart ass,” Richard said.

“You’re drunk, sailor,” Donald said scornfully. “Luckily, some of us have enough self-control to keep our wits about us.”

“Yeah, well, let me tell you what’s wrong with you,” Richard said, pointing a wavering finger at Donald’s face. “You still think you are in the goddamned Navy. Well, let me tell you something. You ain’t.”

“You’re not only stupid,” Donald hissed. “You’re disgusting.”

Something snapped in Richard’s brain. He shoved the women away and launched himself across the marble table, catching Donald by surprise. Despite his inebriation, he was able to straddle the man and land a few ineffectual punches on the side of his head.

Donald responded by enveloping Richard in a bear hug. Locked in a violent embrace, both men rolled off the chaise Donald had been sitting on. Neither man could do much damage to the other, but pummeled each other with short punches nonetheless. They did succeed in crashing into the table which caused Michael’s goblet collection to fall to the floor with a great clatter.

The Interterrans shrank back in dismay, while Suzanne and Perry intervened. It wasn’t easy, but they finally managed to separate the two men. This time it was Richard’s turn to have a bloody nose.

“You bastard,” Richard sputtered as he touched his nose and looked at the blood.

“You’re lucky your friends are here,” Donald told him. “I might have killed you.”

“That’s enough,” Perry said. “No more baiting and no more fighting. This is ridiculous. You’re both acting like children.”

“Idiot!” Donald added. He shook off Perry’s restraining arms and straightened his satin tunic.

“Jerk!” Richard retorted. He moved away from Suzanne and turned to his three women friends. “Come on, girls!” he said. “Let’s go to my room, where I won’t have to look at this guy’s ugly mug.”

Richard took a few unsteady steps toward the women, but they shrank back. Then, without another word, they fled out the open end of the room into the night. Richard hurried after them but stopped at the edge of the lawn. The women were already halfway back to the pavilion.

“Hey!” Richard yelled through cupped hands. “Come back! Meeta…”

“I think it’s time you went to bed,” Suzanne called after him. “You’ve caused enough trouble for one night.”

Richard turned back into the room, disappointed and angry. He slammed his open palm down on the tabletop hard enough to make everyone in the room jump. “Shit!” he shouted to no one in particular.

As Perry pushed open the door of his cottage with a trembling hand he did his best to hide and let Luna enter before him. It had been a long time since he’d been alone with a woman like this. He had no idea whether his anxiety was from marital guilt or from recognizing Luna’s inappropriate youth. On top of that he was tipsy with drink, but even more intoxicating than the crystal was the fact that an absolutely gorgeous young woman found him attractive.

As Perry struggled to conceal his nervousness he was sensitive enough to notice that Luna was agitated herself.

“Can I get you something?” Perry asked. “I’m supposed to have food and drink available.” He watched as the girl went over to the pool and bent down to test its temperature.

“No, thank you,” Luna said. She began to wander aimlessly around the room.

“You seem upset,” Perry said. For lack of anything better to do, he went over and sat on the bed.

“I am,” Luna admitted. “I’ve never seen a person act the way Richard did.”

“He’s not our best ambassador,” Perry said.

“Are there many people like him where you are from?” Luna asked.

“Unfortunately, his type is not uncommon,” Perry said. “Usually there’s a history of abuse that gets handed down from generation to generation.”

Luna shook her head. “Where does the stimulus for the abuse come from?”

Perry scratched the top of his head. He’d not meant to get into a sociological discussion nor did he feel capable at the moment. At the same time he felt he had to say something. Luna was looking at him intently. “Well, let’s see,” he said. “I haven’t really thought about this too much, but there’s a lot of discontentment in our society from heightened expectation and a sense of entitlement. Few people are ever really satisfied.”

“I don’t understand,” Luna said.

“Let me give you an example,” Perry said. “If somebody gets a Ford Explorer the next thing they see is an ad for a Lincoln Navigator, which makes the Explorer seem unappealing.”

“I don’t know what those are,” Luna said.

“It’s just stuff,” Perry said. “And we’re conditioned through relentless advertising to feel it’s never the right stuff.”

“I don’t understand that kind of covetousness,” Luna said. “We don’t have anything like that here in Interterra.”

“Well, then it’s hard to explain,” Perry said. “But anyway there’s a lot of discontentment that especially comes to a head in poor families which have even less stuff than everyone else, and within families people tend to take it out on each other.”

“It’s sad,” Luna said. “And frightening.”

“It can be,” Perry agreed. “But we’re kinda conditioned not to think about it since it all drives our economy.”

“It seems strange to have a society that encourages violence,” Luna said. “Violence is shocking for us since we have none in Interterra.”

“None?” Perry asked.

“No, never,” Luna said. “I’ve never seen a person hit another. It makes me feel weak.”

“Then why don’t you sit down?” Perry said. He patted the bed next to him, feeling self-consciously transparent. Nonetheless Luna came to the bed and sat down beside him.

“You don’t feel dizzy, do you?” Perry asked, struggling to make conversation now that she was so close. “I mean, you’re not going to faint or anything?”

“No, I’ll be all right.”

Perry looked into Luna’s pale blue eyes. For a moment he couldn’t speak. When he could he said, “You know, you are very young.”

“Young? What does that have to do with anything?”

“Well…” Perry said, searching for words. He wasn’t sure himself whether he was referring to her reaction to Richard’s behavior or his reaction to her. “When you’re young you haven’t had as much experience as when you are older. Maybe you haven’t had time to see violence.”

“Listen, there’s no violence here,” Luna said. “It’s been selected against. Besides, I’m not as young as you probably imagine. How old do you think I am?”

“I don’t know,” Perry stammered. “About twenty.”

“Now you seem to be upset.”

“I guess I am a little,” Perry admitted. “You could be my daughter.”

Luna smiled. “I can assure you I’m over twenty. Does that make you feel better?”

“Some,” Perry admitted. “Actually, I don’t know why I feel so nervous. Everything is so nice here, but it’s still quite unnerving.”

“I understand,” Luna said. She smiled again and raised her palms toward his.

Self-consciously Perry put his against hers. “What is this with our hands?” he asked.

“It’s just the way we show love and respect. You don’t like it?”

“When it comes to showing love I’m partial to kissing,” Perry said.

“Like Richard was doing this evening?”

“A bit more intimately than Richard’s technique,” Perry said.

“Show me,” Luna said.

Perry took a breath, leaned over, and lightly kissed Luna on the lips. When he pulled back, Luna responded by touching her lips gently with the very tips of her fingers as if amazed by the sensation.

“Do you dislike it?” Perry asked.

Luna shook her head. “No, but my fingers and palms are more sensitive than my lips. But show me more.”

Perry swallowed nervously. “Are you serious?”

“I’m sure,” Luna said. She moved closer to him and looked at him with those dreamy eyes. “I find you very alluring, Mr. President of Benthic Marine.”

Perry wrapped his arms around her and pulled her down onto the white cashmere coverlet. Michael was in seventh heaven. Mura was the woman of his dreams. It couldn’t get better than this. He didn’t even mind Sart’s continued presence. The boy was in the pool, leaving him to enjoy Mura by himself.

Just when Michael was about to pass out from sheer delight, his rapture was interrupted by a knock at his door. He tried to ignore it, but finally staggered to the door, stark naked. He felt even drunker on his feet. “Who the hell is it?” he demanded.

“It’s me, your buddy Richard.”

Michael opened the door. “What’s the problem?”

“No problem,” Richard said. He tried to look around Michael. “I just thought maybe you might need some help, if you know what I mean.”

It took Michael’s drugged brain a few seconds to catch Richard’s drift. He glanced back at Mura on the circular bed, then back to Richard.

“Are you kidding?” Michael asked.

“No,” Richard said. He smiled crookedly.

“Mura,” Michael called out. “Do you mind if Richard comes in and joins us?”

“Only if he promises to behave,” Mura called back.

Michael looked back at Richard with an exaggerated expression of surprise. “You heard the lady,” he said with a sly smile. He opened the door wider and let Richard into the room. As the two men approached the bed Mura held up both hands.

“Come on, you two primitives!” she said. “I’d love to press palms with you both.”

The two divers exchanged a glance of appreciative disbelief before Michael climbed back onto the bed, and Richard struggled out of his satin garments. As Richard settled next to Mura, he said, “You people are pretty free with love.”

“It’s true,” Mura said. “We have lots of love. It’s our wealth.”

A short time later the two drunken divers were swooning with pleasure in Mura’s arms. It wasn’t sex per se, since in their drugged state neither was capable of consummation, but nonetheless they couldn’t have been more content.

Sart had observed Richard’s arrival from the far end of the pool. He was both attracted and repelled by Richard. Mainly, he was curious. After tiring of swimming he got out of the water, dried himself off, then walked over to the blissful threesome. Mura smiled up at him. She had her arms around both divers, who had fallen fast asleep.

Mura motioned for Sart to sit down on the bed. She’d been gently stroking both divers’ backs but was happy to let Sart take over with Richard. That freed her to concentrate on Michael.

Sart initially just stroked Richard’s back as Mura had been doing, but tiring of this, he began to improvise. First he rubbed Richard’s exposed arm and shoulder. Richard’s skin felt intriguingly strange to Sart. It wasn’t as firm as Interterran skin and had many curious, tiny imperfections. Sart transferred his attentions to Richard’s head, where he’d noticed a small, poorly defined, bluish red discoloration within the hairline above his ear. As Sart bent over to examine this flat blemish more closely, touching it gently with the tip of his finger, Richard’s eyes popped open.

Sart smiled at him dreamily and went back to his tender stroking.

“What the hell?” Richard cried. He knocked Sart’s hand to the side. With drunken clumsiness he leaped from the bed.

Sart stood up as well. He wondered if the mark above Richard’s ear was inordinately sensitive. Maybe he should not have touched it.

Richard’s sudden movement was enough to awaken Michael. Sleepy and dazed, he sat up despite Mura’s restraining arm. He saw Richard swaying by the bedside and glaring at Sart, who looked somewhat guilty.

“What’s the matter, Richie?” Michael asked with a slurred, gravelly voice.

Richard didn’t answer. Instead he wiped his hand over his head while continuing to glower at Sart.

“What happened, Sart?” Mura asked.

“I touched Richard’s blemish,” Sart explained. “The one above his ear. I’m sorry.”

“Michael, come here!” Richard snapped. He waved Michael away from the bed while walking unsteadily in the direction of the pool.

Michael got to his feet feeling giddy from the short snooze. He followed Richard. The two men staggered out of earshot. Michael could tell that Richard was major-league perturbed.

“What’s going on?” Michael asked in a whisper.

Richard wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He was still glaring back at Sart.

“I think I figured out why all these guys don’t care if we make it with their women,” Richard whispered back.

“Why?” Michael asked.

“I think they’re all a bunch of queers.”

“Really?” Michael looked back at Sart. The possibility had crossed his mind at the gala when he’d seen so many men walking around arm in arm, but then he’d forgotten about it in the general excitement.

“Yeah, and I’ll tell you something else,” Richard said. “That little nerdy squirt over there has been rubbing my back and head. The whole time I thought it was the girl.”

Michael laughed despite Richard’s evident rancor.

“It’s not funny,” Richard snapped.

“I bet Mazzola would think it was funny,” Michael said.

“If you tell Mazzola, I’ll kill you,” Richard hissed.

“You and ten other people,” Michael scoffed. “But, in the meantime, what do you want to do?”

“I think we should show this little twerp what we think of his kind,” Richard said. “The guy had his hands all over me, for chrissake. I’m not about to let that pass without a reaction. I don’t think we should let any of these people get the wrong idea of our persuasion.”

“All right,” Michael said. “I’m with you. What do you have in mind?”

“First, get rid of the girl!” Richard said.

“Oh, no! Do we have to?” Michael questioned.

“Absolutely,” Richard said impatiently. “And ditch the long face. You can tell her to come back tomorrow. It’s important to teach this guy a lesson, and we don’t want an audience. She’d yell bloody murder and the next thing you’d know we would be dealing with a couple of those worker clones.”

“Okay,” Michael said. He took a breath to fortify himself and walked back to the bed.

“Is Richard all right?” Mura inquired.

“He’s fine,” Michael said. “But he’s tired. In fact, we’re both tired. Maybe exhausted is a better word. Plus we’re drunk, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

“It hasn’t bothered me,” Mura said. “I’ve been enjoying myself.”

“I’m glad,” Michael said. “But now we’re wondering if we could put off any more palm pressing until tomorrow. What I mean is, maybe you should leave.”

“Certainly,” Mura said without hesitation. She immediately slid off the bed and began dressing. Sart did the same.

“I don’t want you to get the wrong impression,” Michael said. “I’d like to see you tomorrow.”

“I understand you are tired,” Mura said graciously. “Don’t worry. You are our guests, and I will return tomorrow if it is your wish.”

Sart cinched his braided rope around his waist and looked back at Richard, who’d not moved from where he was standing halfway to the pool’s edge.

“Sart,” Michael said, following the boy’s line of sight. “Why don’t you hang around? Richard wants to apologize for scaring you when he leaped off the bed.”

Sart looked at Mura. Mura shrugged. “It’s up to you, my friend.”

Sart looked back at Michael, who smiled and winked at him.

“If the guests wish me to stay, I will stay,” Sart said. He stepped back to the bed with a bit of swagger and sat down.

“That’s wonderful,” Michael said.

Mura finished dressing and went first to Michael and then to Richard to press her palm against each of theirs one last time. She told them both that they had given her great pleasure to be with them, and said she was eager to see them the following day. Before closing the door behind herself she bid them good night.

After the sound of the door closing drifted away, there was a brief, uncomfortable silence. Richard and Michael eyed Sart while Sart looked back and forth between the two men. Sart began to fidget. He stood up.

“Perhaps I should call for more drink,” Sart said, to make conversation.

Richard forced a smile and shook his head. Then he approached Sart with a gait that suggested he didn’t quite know where his feet were.

“How about more food?” Sart said.

Richard shook his head again. He was within an arm’s distance of the boy. Sart took a step back.

“Me and my buddy here have something important we want to say to you,” Richard told him.

“This is true,” Michael said. He walked equally as unsteadily around the end of the bed to join Richard, effectively boxing Sart in a corner between the bed and the wall.

“To put it bluntly, so there is no misunderstanding,” Richard continued, “we can’t stand queers like you.”

“In fact they make us a little crazy,” Michael said.

Sart’s eyes darted from one drunken, sneering face to the other.

“Perhaps it would be best if I go,” Sart said nervously.

“Not before we’re absolutely certain you know what we’re talking about,” Richard said.

“I don’t know what you mean by ‘queer,’ ” Sart admitted.

“Homo, gay, fag, fairy,” Richard said derisively. “The term doesn’t matter. The point is we don’t like guys who like men. And we have a sneaking suspicion you fall into that category.”

“Of course I like men,” Sart said. “I like all people.”

Richard looked at Michael then back at Sart. “We don’t like bisexuals either.”

Sart made a dash for the door, but he didn’t make it. Richard grabbed one arm while Michael grabbed a handful of hair.

Richard quickly got Sart’s other arm as well and with a triumphant laugh pinned both behind the boy. Sart struggled, but it was no use, especially with Michael still clutching a shock of his hair. Once the boy was immobilized, Michael punched him in the stomach, doubling him over.

Both divers let go of the boy and then laughed while they watched him take a few staggering steps. Sart was desperately trying to catch his breath. His face was purple.

“Okay, pansy,” Richard slurred. “Here’s one for putting your filthy paws on me.”

Richard lifted Sart’s face with his left hand and hit him with his right. It was not a jab but rather a wild, roundhouse uppercut behind which he put his entire weight. This second blow caught the boy full in the face, crushing his nose, sending him hurling backward off his feet, and inadvertently smashing his head against the sharp corner of the marble nightstand. Unfortunately the cold stone penetrated several inches into the back of the youngster’s skull.

Richard was initially unaware of the fatal consequences of his powerful punch. He was too preoccupied by the intense pain of his bruised knuckles. Wincing, he cradled his throbbing hand with his other and cursed loudly.

Michael watched in horror as Sart’s flaccid body came to a rest. Bits of brain tissue oozed from the ugly wound. Suddenly sober, Michael bent down over the stricken boy, who was making gurgling sounds.

“Richard!” Michael called out in a loud whisper. “We got a problem!”

Richard refused to respond. He was still in pain, pacing the room and shaking his hand in the air with his fingers widely spread.

Michael stood up. “Richard! Christ! The guy’s dead.”

“Dead?” Richard echoed. The finality of the word shattered Richard’s self-absorption.

“Well, almost. His head’s caved in. He hit the goddamned table.”

Richard staggered back to where Michael was standing and looked down at Sart’s motionless form. “Holy shit!” he said.

“What the hell are we going to do?” Michael demanded. “Why’d you hit him so freakin’ hard?”

“I didn’t mean to, okay!” Richard shouted.

“Well, what are we going to do?” Michael repeated.

“I don’t know,” Richard said.

At that moment Sart’s battered body let out a final sigh and the gurgling stopped.

“That’s it,” Michael said with a shudder. “He’s dead! We got to do something and fast.”

“Maybe we should get outta here,” Richard said.

“We can’t get out of here,” Michael complained. “Where are we going to go? Hell, we don’t even know where we are.”

“All right, let me think,” Richard said. “Shit, I didn’t mean to hurt him.”

“Oh, sure,” Michael said sarcastically.

“Well, not that much,” Richard said.

“What if someone comes in here?” Michael questioned.

“You’re right,” Richard said. “We’ve got to hide the body.”

“Where?” Michael demanded urgently.

“I don’t know!” Richard yelled. He looked around the room frantically. Then he looked back at Michael. “I just got an idea that might work.”

“Good,” Michael said. “Where?”

“First help me pick him up,” Richard said. He stepped over the body, rolled it over, and then got his hands under Sart’s arms.

Michael got Sart’s feet, and together they hoisted the boy off the floor.