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out there all by himself at night? Since he didn t sleep, maybe they should defy village custom and
keep Pearl themselves at night.
A low moan carried on the breeze. What? Was Fort een okay? Connell pulled on his pants and
hurried to the cliff.  Is something wrong?
Silence. After a long pause Fort een whispered,  I miss& 
Connell had never considered that Fort een might have left a lover behind. The moonlight washed
over the man, his features vulnerable even while fully armored. Connell eased down beside the
soldier.  I m sorry. You loved someone?
 Loved? Confusion passed over Fort een s face, gone a moment later.  Not loved. At night, I&
soldiers& we. Even in the low light of the waning moons the man s blue eyes shone. He raised his
visor.  We took comfort from each other, he finally said.  Suit is not the same.
 Oh? Connell absorbed the meaning.  Oh! His eyes locked with the soldier s. They moved as one,
lips connecting. A gasp of surprise gave Connell his opening to dive his tongue inside Fort een s
mouth. Ever since he d first arrived on New Wailea to discover the hard notions of the colonists,
he d despaired of ever experiencing the physical pleasures he d found with other young men at the
export station where he d waited patiently for an immigration opening. He d snapped up the first
opportunity, overlooking the requirements and a carefully worded call for  breeding stock. Small
colonies had little use for those not inclined to increase the genetic pool to prevent inbreeding.
Fort een drew back.  But I cannot ask that of my commander.
 Your& your what? While the soldier s vocabulary skills had grown over time, he still missed the
odd word on occasion.
 You are my commander, my colonel. I cannot& 
 Colonel? Only then did Connell recognize the subtle inflection that wasn t  Connell as he d always
believed, but  Colonel , a soldierly rank. He threw back his head and laughed.  I m not your colonel,
I m a civi& civil&  Drat! Now words failed Connell.
 Civilian? Fort een offered.
 Yes, a civilian. Connell is my name, not a rank.
The soldier flashed a brief, barely perceptible smile and began to descend again. Connell stopped
him.  Your name? Is it really Fort een, or is that some kind of military name too?
 Fourteen. My comrades were Thirteen, Fifteen, and Twenty-seven.
A number? All this time Connell had been calling the man by a number?  Don t you have a real
name? A name given to you by your mother or father?
Fourteen s lips drew into a thin line of distaste.  I would not speak of them. You have taught me
what family is. They were not family.
 Then I will erase the bitterness from your mind. How many times had Connell dreamed of having a
family while living in a Federation orphanage, a place too overrun to even hope for adoption? The
very young, the beautiful, the exotic children found a place, but not someone like himself with no
skills or looks to speak of. Fourteen, though, would have been taken in a minute, probably by an
unscrupulous person who planned to raise him for use in a pleasure house.
This time, when Fourteen closed the gap between them, Connell openedc his mouth. While hesitant
at first, the soldier soon joined in the tongue play. Earlier he d asked about kissing, yet he d
mentioned finding comfort with other men. Had none of them ever kissed him? Had they shared
their bodies only?
 Come with me to my bed, Connell said.  We ll be more comfortable there. He rose and held out
his hand. The soldier took it, and together they strolled the moonlit path to their home. They fell
onto the bed in a tangle of arms, legs, armor, and heated embraces. Clicks and clanks announced the
suit s plates hitting the floor. The helmet fell last.
Though the night hid details from Connell s eyes, he ran his hand up Fourteen s arms, seeking out
the tiny depressions where suit gripped flesh, and where he knew tiny wires punctured muscles and
drilled past tissue to arrive at the central nervous system, to add nutrients and take away toxins, to
adjust the soldier s body for maximum efficiency, and otherwise alter his physiology for maximum
performance and longevity. Ah yes, watching a living, breathing soldier had greatly advanced
Connell s knowledge of how they worked.
In response to Connell s explorations, the soldier did his own discovering, dipping his fingers
in the ridges of muscles on Connell s back and shoulders muscles honed by pulling a sled
full of fish across sand, and hoisting pulleys to raise the bounty up the cliff face.
 Family. That single word gusted from the soldier s mouth to Connell s ear, saying many
things probably foreign to a warrior tongue.
 I want you, Connell murmured.  I ve long wanted you, in my arms, in my bed, in my
body. He rolled to the side, then onto his back, spreading his legs. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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