A Very Schticky Thing To Do - 3. Chapter 3

The flight to the retreat in the Central Highlands of Bobbysland, the smallest and oldest continent on Gurd, took a lot longer than Spid expected. Lord Nivl was very, very rich and had access to some of the best aerocraft, but their flight was relegated to an old, long distance, low altitude transport. Bobbysland, often called the “Eye of Gurd” because of its dead center location in the Great Ocean—when seen from space it is the only significant visible land—the tectonic spreading centers that split up the last great continent and created the Great Ocean left Bobbysland wanting.

Spid watched a vid on this during the two hours of their flight. He didn’t have much else to do as he was restrained in an S cage at the back of the freight area. Rules were rules and even the boyo of the most important pubi on Gurd couldn’t break them, which was interesting because the aerocraft was robotic and there were no other human passengers. Plus, the aerocraft wasn’t configured for humans, so for six hours Spid had to endure ever increasing pressure on his bladder.

Dimp sat in the seat normally occupied by the S guard. He tried to appear as apologetic as possible, but ended up sleeping most of the way because he got airsick thirty minutes after takeoff and the medical unit onboard gave him an injection.

After landing, robots unloaded the plane and then it was towed into a hangar where it sat. Dimp was still asleep, so Spid bided his time as there was little else he could do. He certainly didn’t want to make a scene and get killed by some ignorant security guard thinking he was doing Gurd a favor by killing a worthless S who had the audacity to piss on the floor of a government aerocraft.

“Hey! Are you boyoes coming out?” a voice yelled through the side entrance.

Spid wondered if he should risk responding.

“Hey! Are you boyoes there?” the voice called out, again.

“Dimp got airsick and was given an injection,” Spid called back.

“Oh,” a voice said, quickly followed by a huge, hairy, old boyo in dark green coveralls. He walked back to the cage and released the restraints on Spid.

“Thanks, you can’t imagine how much I need to pee,” Spid said.

“Not now, there’re facilities in the hangar,” the boyo said. “Out to the world, isn’t he? Okay, I’ll escort you to the lav and tell medical to give him an antidote injection. I’m Prink, your host. Come on; let’s get the show on the road.”

Spid followed Prink down the ramp and over to the lav. It was a communal facility serving dottirs and boyoes. Prink went in ahead and watched him at the stand-up. Doesn’t trust an S, Spid thought. He shook off and packed it away.

Without a word Prink turned and Spid followed along dutifully. Why bother, why put him at unneeded risk? Dimp was standing at the bottom of the ramp when they came out, but Prink headed for the big hangar door.

“Over here, Dimp,” Prink called. “The copter is out on the apron.”

Dimp stood where he was. Spid looked at him and looked at Prink. Something wasn’t right, something was going to happen and it wasn’t going to be good. He slowed up allowing Prink to get a number of paces ahead. He looked over at Dimp who was now moving his hand as if to call him over. Spid didn’t wait to get a second opinion and ran over to the other boyo.

“Something’s not right,” Dimp said. “Who did that boyo say he was?”

“Prink.”

“I doubt he means personnel recreation and nutrition component,” Dimp said. “A PRNC is a robot. We need to get out of here, but which way?”

“Retreat works for me unless you can fly an aerotransport,” Spid said.

“No such luck,” Dimp said. “He doesn’t seem too interested we’re not coming out.”

“They have weapons to kill us, or at least me,” Spid said. “You’re probably too valuable to kill outright. They’ll hold you for ransom, but sometime between now and the payoff you’ll join me on Hurlshome. We have one chance and that’s behind us. One of those doors on the back wall goes outside where, hopefully, they haven’t posted a guard. Running is probably a good idea, right now.”

Spid reached the door emblazoned with an EGRESS sign in bright florescent red letters. There was also a bar on the door labeled with “Alarm Will Scream When Egress Is Attempted.” Spid looked at the bar; then squatted down and looked underneath. It was a Model 305A4 Alarm Bar. He rummaged through his pockets for a moment before realizing he’d lost his S uniform.

“Do you have a small screwdriver?” he asked.

“No, just some nail clippers,” Dimp said.

“Better yet, give them to me,” Spid said. He opened them and turned out the file. He pushed the pointy end up into a small hole until he heard a faint click. He pushed on the bar and the door opened. A young S stood just outside with an improvised beam pistol. He turned and aimed it directly at Spid’s head.

* * * * * * *

When Spid’s blindfold was removed the sun was quickly descending over a range of mountains. They seemed to be up on the side of a U-shaped valley near a spring. There were equatorial Gurdian conifers all around them in which could be heard a constant chattering from some small animals or maybe birds. Dimp was blindfolded, gagged, and his hands were tied. They’d removed his pants and forced him into a squatting position where he was tied to the far side of a tree. It was obvious they didn’t want to be bothered with Dimp’s toilet needs.

There were eight boyoes of various ages from middle teens to over thirty and all of them were armed with knives in sheaths. The one who captured Spid was squatting next to him. All of them were listening to one of the older boyoes as he related what occurred during the capture. All of them seemed especially interested that Spid had tried to escape with the Normal, who they knew was the youngest son of Lord Nivl. From what Spid gathered from their conversation somehow they knew Dimp was going to be on that aerotransport and laid a trap for him.

On the other side of the camp a number of beam weapons were laid out on a yellow tarpaulin. Some of them were obviously improvised using parts of various devices, but he figured they could generate sufficient energy to vaporize their target with ease. Of course, sometimes partial vaporization was worse than getting a full shot; no head was definitely less painful than missing only a fourth of your head.

There were, also, a number of other weapons, including a number of gravitation bombs, which Spid recognized as they were manufactured at the consortium where he worked. They were banned by numerous Federation and Intergalactic treaties, but everyone made them. Sometimes a good old implosion was just as effective as a huge explosion and, in the case of gravitation bombs; there wasn’t any lingering radiation to clean up.

“Why are you with Lord Nivl’s boyo?” the leader of the rebels asked.

“I was sold to him,” Spid said and wasn’t surprised at the ohs and uh-uhs expressed by the others. “Dimp has pledged his life Bud and he wanted a companion. For a variety of political reasons, he wasn’t able to acquire a Normal, so his pubi got him an S. It is only coincidental that I also have a grape cluster. The plan was for us to live in Lord Nivl’s mansion in Burpiburg, but Dimp’s sister attacked me, so we were sent here to live in Lord Nivl’s retreat.”

“And, the boyo, what is his relationship to his pubi?” someone else asked.

“An embarrassment,” Spid said. “What Normal pubi, especially the leader of AGHAST, wants a follower of Bud as a boyo?”

“Would you feel he has any ransom value?” the leader asked.

“No,” Spid said.

“Bisk, take care of the Normal,” the leader said.

The boyo squatting beside Spid stood up and went over to where Dimp was tied. He took out his knife.

“Stop!” Spid yelled. “Please, stop.”

“You do have feelings for this slime,” the leader said. “We figured that was the case. Untie him Bisk.”

The boyo did as he was told and after removing the gag and blindfold, tossed Dimp his pants. Though before putting his pants on, Dimp scurried around the tree, squatted and shit, then he vomited. The rebels laughed.

Dimp put his pants on, walked over and squatted next to Spid; who wondered if the Normal knew how close he came to being killed.

“As I see it you two have maybe three choices here,” the leader said as the rest moved away and began getting the camp ready for night. “One is to hike back to the aerodrome tomorrow and hope there is someone to fly the copter up to the retreat, but there isn’t because we killed everyone. You could still go down there, but Security will pick you up. Well, they’ll pick up the Normal and kill you, Spid. Your Normal friend will go into interrogation because they’ll want to know everything he knows about us, which isn’t a whole lot, but they won’t believe him until he gives them the answers they want; and you will give them those answers. You know that, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Dimp whispered.

“Those buggers know all the tricks to torture,” the leader continued as he moved over to them. “So, you don’t want to go down there. Your second choice is to hike over to the retreat, but Security will pick you up as soon as they know you’re there and you know they’ll find that out. Of course, the S is vaporized and the Normal is tortured to death. So, that’s not a good idea. As I see it, you have only one logical choice and that is to stay with us.”

“Who are you, anyway?” Dimp asked softly.

“The Democratic Army for Gurd’s Ultimate Freedom,” the leader said. “You can call me Captain Osk as that’s what everyone else calls me. No one knows anyone’s name, except we know both of yours, which may turn out to be a liability.”

“Why can’t we go off by ourselves?” Spid asked.

“And, where would you go?” Captain Osk asked. “Both of you are wanted by Security. If they find only you Spid, you’ll live until you tell them where your friend is hiding. The other way around they probably won’t bother, but they’ll ask your friend a few questions about you anyway.”

“Why can’t we find some secluded place in a forest somewhere?” Spid asked, thinking of some of the books about Junior Rangers he’d read when he was younger, more impressionable, and got ahead of his daily piecework quota. “We’d have to move around, of course, so that Security doesn’t have a chance to pinpoint our location, but we should be able to survive off the land. I’m willing to try that. What about you, Dimp?”

“Yeah, I suppose,” he whispered.

“And, why don’t you want to stay with us?” Captain Osk asked.

“Because of the reward,” Spid said. “As soon as it’s announced Dimp is missing, every Security officer on Bobbysland is going to be looking for him and me, too. What’s going to prevent one of your men from looking to line his account with a few extra credits?”

“Well, there is that,” Captain Osk said. “When do you plan on leaving?”

“As soon as we can get at least one knife,” Spid said.

“That’s all you need?” Dimp asked.

“Yes, an S is very resourceful,” Spid said.

“Isn’t that the truth,” Captain Osk laughed. “Okay, we’ll give you two knives and a map of Bobbysland so you’ll get some idea of where you are.”

Then in a whisper, he said, “Tomorrow, I’ll take you up on the ridge and you can head out from there. Now, try to get comfortable and get some sleep. Sorry, no food tonight.”

* * * * * * *

Spid was startled awake by the whining scream of beam weapon discharges slicing through the air contrasting sharply to the thump of plasma pulses turning the ground where they struck into little puddles of glass. The thrum of copters overhead shook the ground as beams and pulses danced around the camp seeking organic targets. The all too familiar sizzle of water based life being vaporized and/or cauterized amid screaming, yelling, and swearing.

“Come on, we have to get out of here,” Spid said pulling at Dimp’s arm, who was wide-eyed as he tried to flatten himself into the ground. “Come on!”

The boyo seemed to have a spark of awareness left and he sat up just as a beam discharge burnt a three centimeter wide hole in the ground where he’d been a moment before. There were two knives at Spid’s side and he gave one to Dimp. He picked up his and the folded map. He moved into a crouching position to lessen his available target area and sidled toward some bushes. He looked back at Dimp.

“Come on, stay low,” Spid said as he crawled into the bushes, not waiting for the Normal. This was life or death and if he had a chance for life, he wasn’t about to die just so a Normal might have a chance to live.

Bushes were exploding into flame from the heat of the plasma weapons while being torn to shreds by the beams. Spid hurried through the brush away from the camp not thinking whether Dimp was behind him. A loud explosion was heard and he turned to see a large conifer’s top burst into flames as the tree came crashing to the ground.

Security wasn’t pulling their punches on this attack. They weren’t looking for prisoners. Everyone in that camp was going to die, one way or another. Spid had no intention of being around to find another way of dying. After a few minutes the beam discharges began to fade and Spid stopped to get bearings. Dawn was brightening the mountain tops across the valley, but their side was filled with the dim light of the big moon. Then Spid heard a voice. He looked around and in the dim light saw a man a few meters away.

“Do a grid with broad beams to make sure we’ve got them all,” the voice said. It was Captain Osk’s voice! He was an AGHAST undercover agent. Spid knew his duty.

“Yes, I know we’ve probably fried the kid,” Captain Osk said, “but you know what the Lord said. Hopefully, there’s enough left of him to get a DNA sample so we get our share of the reward. So do what I said.”

Spid worked his way around behind the agent. It was going to be tricky and there was only one chance in a thousand of doing this right and coming out alive. Luckily, Captain Osk was standing on a slab of exposed granite, lessening the chance he’d hear Spid over the sounds from his earpiece. Plus, the agent’s concentration was on killing Dimp, not protecting his own ass.

Spid jumped and pushed into the bigger boyo who tried to maintain his balance, but quickly succumbed to Spid’s momentum. As they fell the young boyo quickly plunged his knife into the agent’s neck and pushed with a forward motion on the blade. There was a struggle, but in the meantime Dimp had come up and was attempting, though haphazardly, to secure the agent’s flaying limbs. Dimp added his own weapon to the attack, though probably with little effect other than confusing the victim.

Spid jumped away, pulling Dimp with him. The partially decapitated body of Captain Osk moved as if to come around at them, but death’s embrace was tightening as spurting arteries quickly starved the brain of needed oxygen. The body flopped back and blood began to drain from the wounds.

“You killed him,” Dimp whispered. “How did you know how to do that?”

“I’m an S,” Spid said flatly. “I know how to kill Normals.”

“Oh,” Dimp replied.

“Come on, let’s roll him over,” Spid said. “I want to find out if he’s an S or a Normal.”

“How can you tell,” Dimp said as he helped with the feet while Spid pulled at a shoulder.

Spid unzipped the agent’s coveralls and slit open the undersuit.

“He’s a fake S,” Spid said.

“How can you tell?” Dimp asked. “He certainly has the equipment for it.”

“There’s too much body hair,” Spid said, “and look here at the scar from when he was circumcised. And, here, feel this, right here.”

Dimp placed two fingers where Spid indicated, but gave a questioning look.

“There’s a rib where there shouldn’t be one,” Spid said. “S’s don’t have that rib. I wonder how he fooled them, unless they needed a leader so bad, they’d overlook the obvious. Come on, we need to head up valley then cross to the other side. They’ll have heat seekers out as soon as they discover your remains are not among the dead. We need to be out of this valley by then.”

“Why don’t we go up to the ridge?” Dimp asked.

“Because that was where Captain Osk said he was going to take us,” Spid said. “Plus, right now we don’t need to be out in the open. We need the trees. Do you think you can run for awhile?”

“Sure,” Dimp said. “Let’s go.”

They jogged down into the valley where the brush thinned out and the canopy increased leaving a soft, needle covered surface that was easy on their feet. After about two kilometers they came to a rather established trail and Spid stopped.

“Do you think it’s monitored?” Spid asked.

“How so?” Dimp responded.

“Likely electro-sensors, unless it’s only a recreation trail,” Spid said. “It might be dangerous.”

“I don’t want to say anything, but do you ever get thirsty?” Dimp asked.

“I’m an S,” Spid said. “We can go longer without food or water. When we get to the creek, we’ll see if it’s safe to drink. There might be some water plants we can eat.”

“Wait a minute, you seem to know too much about being out in the woods,” Dimp said as he started off down the trail with Spid.

“Junior Rangers, I wanted to be one,” Spid said.

“I’m a Junior Ranger,” Dimp said. “I have fifteen merit badges.”

“Have you done the three day survival? The twenty, fifty, and one hundred kilometer cross countries? Can you make water in a desert? Do you know where to find water in a desert if you don’t have the equipment to make it? Do you know what plants are safe and which ones will kill you? Do you know how to skin a Bung, properly gut it, dismember it, and, more importantly, know which parts you can safely eat raw and those you have to cook? Do you know where north is at this very moment?”

“I did all of the urban merit badges,” Dimp said meekly. “But, how do you know all this. S’s can’t be Junior Rangers.”

“No, but we can read or at least I did and the Junior Ranger manuals and reference materials are marked Open Use,” Spid said.

There was something about the trail that troubled Spid. It looked too well used to be as far from a populous area as he thought they were. When they got to the creek and he saw a practically new, well constructed bridge that looked as if it could carry a fairly heavy load, Spid was getting a clearer picture. Unfortunately, they couldn’t tarry here, there wasn’t enough cover.

He practically ran across the bridge, not stopping until he was again under the forest canopy. He turned and saw Dimp panting behind him. Then he heard a familiar hum.

“Quick, off into the trees,” he said quietly. “Hurry up, it’ll be here soon.”

They ran about ten trees into the forest before turning back to look at the trail. Spid ducked behind a large tree and pulled Dimp with him.

“What are you . . .” Dimp started before Spid put a hand over his mouth.

“Shush,” Spid whispered, as the hum imperceptibly grew louder.

He looked around one side of their tree and Dimp looked around the other. Soon, a five unit robotic land train came into view with a sensor unit out front. Not only was it scanning the trail ahead, but every now and then the sensors rotated to take in the surrounding forest. It trundled out of sight and Spid sighed. The humming slowly faded in the distance and the boyoes relaxed until there was the sound of another train in the distance.

“Come on,” Spid whispered as he turned and ran further back into the forest before stopping for a moment to take his bearings.

“Do you think they’ll send out searchers?” Dimp asked.

“Only if they’re certain there’s a scent to follow,” Spid said. “That’s a commercial track, so Security will have to outfit a special sensor unit to run the track, especially over the bridge. I think we’re still safe.”

“I’m not going to see my Pubi, again, am I?” Dimp whispered.

“Likely not, but then I definitely won’t see mine,” Spid said. “Of course, I’m an S so I have to expect difficult situations. If this shit continues, it may become ever more difficult for you to hook up with him again. If we find a global com site, we might be able to get a signal to him, but what will he do with it? Can you trust him with your life?”

“I don’t know,” Dimp whispered. “Like you were saying last night, I’m a liability. He might be sad for a moment, but he won’t care all that much if I end up dead.”

“We’ll go up valley for a ways looking for water,” Spid said. “Hopefully, it’ll be under the canopy and we’ll be able to find food, too. I’m afraid we’ll have to hurry, again.”

* * * * * * *

They found clean water after four kilometers of jogging and walking. The underbrush was thicker there, sufficient for them to be near the water and not visible to anyone or anything unless directly overhead. As they drank, Spid looked around for anything suitable in the way of food. While Dimp was still filling his gut with water, Spid went over to a bed of reeds and pulled up a clump. The root was a rhizome and the stalks were edged with sharp horns pointing down. He broke off the stalks and shaved the root until the blue flesh was exposed. He cut it in half and handed one to Dimp.

“What’s this?” Dimp asked.

“Survival food, chew on it,” Spid answered. He took a bite and tried to smile over the sour taste. “Don’t swallow the meat, just the juice.”

“Wow, this is kind of sweet,” Dimp said. “Are you sure I can’t swallow it?”

“Do you want to shit from now to next month?” Spid asked. He wished he was a Normal so his mouthful of blue root could be sweet, too, but the Schtickist genes messed up a lot of things.

“Oh, no, that’s okay,” Dimp said. He spat out a mouthful and took another bite.

Spid saw something dart into the hole where he pulled out the blue root. He reached in and felt a handful of rough wriggling anger. He pulled out a long file snik and sliced off its head, tail, and four stubby legs. After peeling off the skin, gutting, and rinsing out the body cavity, he cut it in half lengthwise and handed Dimp his piece.

“What’s this?” Dimp asked looking at the bloody flesh in his hand.

“Survival food,” Spid said. “Watch out for the bones.”

He sliced off a small hunk from the side of the salamander-like creature and put it into his mouth. He immediately swallowed it.

“It’s not too bad, as long as you don’t chew,” Spid said.

“I’m not eating uncooked meat,” Dimp said.

“Cooked meat means fire, which means smoke, which leads to detection,” Spid said. “You’re going to have to eat a lot of raw beasties until we get somewhere safe or starve. Personally, I’d rather eat yucky food than die of starvation. Hurry up and finish your blue root and, if you’re not going to eat the snik, give it to me.”

Dimp sliced off a small piece in his mouth and swallowed. They moved back from the water into the reeds and finished their meal. Before leaving, both took long swallows of water. Spid told himself to remember to find something to carry water in; it would make travelling cross-country a lot easier.

They continued up the valley trying to stay under the tree canopy as long as possible until finally reaching the edge of the trees a couple hundred meters below a pass. Looking back through spaces between trees, the whole valley spread out below them. Strangely, there weren’t any Security copters flying around, which meant someone already made the decision the boyoes were on foot and had trackers following them or Security was still processing the site and hadn’t determined they lived through the assault. Spid decided the first option was the likelier. He definitely didn’t want a search and destroy tracker robot finding them. Those things were not nice, as Security only needed a small piece of flesh for DNA identification.

He motioned to Dimp and they hurried up to the pass and once over dropped behind a rock to take their bearings. Before them was another broad, U-shaped glacial valley extending down into the forest below. There was no sign of life.

Spid looked around quickly scanning their surrounding area for any sign of human activity, Normal or S. Across the open space something glinted under a huge boulder. Was it a marker or was it a sensor?

“Dimp, see that over there, that sparkle in the sun?” Spid asked.

“Yeah.”

“Go over and see what it is, but don’t get too close.”

“Why don’t you go?”

“Because it might be an escaped S detection unit.”

“Oh. They have those?”

“Yes.”

Dimp hunkered down and worked his way over toward the unknown sparkler. He inched closer and closer until finally standing up and walking over to whatever it was.

“Come on over, it’s safe,” Dimp called out.

“What is it?” Spid asked when he finally squatted down next to Dimp.

“A remote global com unit,” Dimp said. He went up to it and removed the cover. There was a small vid and an even smaller input interface. He tapped a few of the buttons. He knelt down onto the moss covered ground and signaled Spid to come over.

“What’re you doing?” Spid asked.

“Trying to contact Pubi,” Dimp said. “Using Pubi’s secret account I’ve established a secure ’xrsc path to his personal com unit. Unfortunately, it put me into message hold. Should I leave him a message?”

“No, we need to get out of here,” Spid said. “You might think that’s secure, but you know the ’xrsc, for the right price, nothing is certain. Try one more time.”

“Great, I’m in,” Dimp said as he tapped a few of the buttons.

CN: Bisk Sniv Dotto Onk.

LN: . . .

“Whoever has the unit doesn’t know our contact code,” Dimp said as he flipped the off switch, breaking the connection. “Okay, let’s go. I wonder what’s going on.”

“Worse case scenario?” Spid asked.

“What’s that?”

“What’s the worst thing you can think happened?”

“Security broke into the line. No, Pubi is no longer at the top or, worse, he thinks this is a good way to get rid of me. Shit!”

“That’ll work. Will that thing tell us where we’re at?”

“It should, just a sec, let me see, oh, yeah, there should be an ID panel on the back. We’re at Thumt Pass. Is that on the map?”

Spid unfolded the thing until he was able to turn it over to the index. “Let’s see, Thumt Pass, coordinates K.15HJ.32V.,” he said as he turned the map back over.

“Here it is, practically in the center of the continent,” Dimp said. “Dang, there’s hardly anything around. What are those x’s that have been written in?”

“Probably of significance to the rebels or Captain Osk,” Spid said. “Look, there, what’s that symbol?”

“It’s a mountain hut,” Dimp said. “There should be food there.”

“There might be some Normals, too,” Spid said. “That looks about a day away. Well, let’s get down into the trees and find some place to bed down.”

“Shouldn’t we try to put some distance between us and this?” Dimp asked. “If Security was monitoring the line, they’ll be out here. Let’s try to get over that ridge and down into the next valley before night fall.”

“Good idea,” Spid said. “Well, I guess it’s back to jogging. You’re going to get in good shape if this lasts a long time.”

“I just wish we could find someplace to lie low for a while,” Dimp said. “You know, someplace with food, bedding, water, heat, cooling, food.”

“You said food twice,” Spid said.

“Well, that thing I ate isn’t too happy right now,” Dimp said.

“Blue root causes abdominal gas,” Spid said. “There was another reed back there, but it’s reputed to taste like dead bugs, whatever they taste like.”

“Probably yucky,” Dimp said.

* * * * * * *

The sun was barely above the horizon when they summited the far ridge in line with the next day’s hike to the mountain hut. The pass was steep, narrow, and full of loose rocks requiring them to scramble with their hands helping to keep from falling backward. However once over the other side, they were presented with a sheer drop to a talus slope what looked like a hundred meters below. There was a small track to the left made up of the edges of huge blocks of the mountain that hadn’t yet fallen.

“Scared of heights?” Spid asked.

“No, want me to lead?” Dimp responded.

“Sure.”

They clung to the mountain and inched their way down the length of the cracks along the cliff face. It was slow going as the sun crept closer to blinking out for the night, but they couldn’t hurry. One misstep and you didn’t have to worry about being vaporized in a Security attack. About a third of the way across when the slope became less steep, they came to the narrow entrance of a cave. Dimp slipped inside. When Spid came to it, Dimp poked his head out.

“I think I’ve found us a place to spend the night,” Dimp said. “It’s fairly roomy inside and there’s a small spring. It’s not much more than a drip, but it doesn’t taste as if it has washed across a valley floor.”

Spid slipped into what wasn’t much more than a crack in the side of the mountain, but once inside, it did seem to open up into a sizeable room. The fading sunlight filled the space and Dimp sat down near the spring. Spid sat down beside the Normal.

“We haven’t got anything to eat and there’s no soft bedding available,” Dimp said, “so do you want’ta make out?”

“Still trying to get in my pants, huh?” Spid said as he sat down.

“As matter of fact, yes,” Dimp said. “I’m going to wear you down until you shove that thing of yours up where it belongs. Plus, I can give way better head than my sister. She’s mostly into other dottirs anyway, so I don’t know what her deal was with you.”

“Same deal that’s with you,” Spid said. “You Normals are so fascinated with S dicks.”

“Well, they’re huge compared to what we get,” Dimp said. “And, well, in my case, it doesn’t matter whether you’re an S or a Normal, just as long as I get into your pants. So, look, the sun’s almost down so we can barely see each other, how about a little kiss? I promise I won’t touch you.”

Spid turned slightly and put his lips to Dimp’s. He missed, but the boyo adjusted and their mouths were joined. Tongues quickly joined the fray with slathering caresses and soft probing. Dimp’s left hand eased onto Spid’s right arm to steady him. Meanwhile, Spid gave into his feelings, his need for what was happening, what was going to happen and brought his left hand up to the top of Dimp’s shirt where he found the zipper. He pulled it down to the belt and began to unbutton the top of the boyo’s undersuit. His hand slipped inside and he found a perky nipple waiting for attention.

The change in Dimp was immediate as Spid tweaked that nipple. The boyo’s free hand began undoing his gear belt and then opened his pants. Spid felt the fumbling and he removed his hand from the nipple. He felt over Dimp’s body until he found the free arm and then followed it down to where it was busy opening the fly of its undersuit. He pulled the hand away and took over.

Spid’s mind raced toward feelings as old as when humans first climbed out of the caves around Mount Spinl on Argotte after the last Great War of Attrition. Dimp’s lips and tongue pleaded for the relief the boyo offered. He pulled the hot, engorged cock out of the confines of the undersuit and into the cool air of the cave. It throbbed in his hand imploring it be given a ready, available substitute to its ancient, hereditary want.

He broke the kiss only to have Dimp whimper at the loss of passionate input along erogenous receptors, but Spid knew from somewhere in the back of his brain, where the first Schtick gene mutated, that over all of the silliness, games, jokes, and even the multitude of crème pies, only another boyo’s mouth produced the same feelings as a dottir’s vagina. All the talk of fucking was just that, fucking, a way to get off as good as another’s hand, but to stimulate the crown with the underside’s highly charged nerve endings similar to the cervical mouth’s stimulation to draw out the semen and eventually to return the fertilized egg, the cock needed the warm moisture of the human mouth and tantalizing massage of the tongue.

And, that was exactly what he did. It was a dance he’d performed only once at the culmination of his training at the Temple of Bud, but he gave what Dimp desired and was willing to give all he could. The drawing in, the circling, the laving, and below, where his hand grasped the throbbing need, the milking of the three fingers and the thumb. He felt Dimp’s hands caressing his head, trying to pull him away to keep the seed for its intended purpose, and pushing him onward to a pleasure beyond description.

As when Bud and Vini lay naked under the oak on the sunny hillside each at the other’s cock stimulating and simulating as only two boyoes can, Spid gave himself to Dimp’s need and as he felt the cock swell as blood filled tissue to seal the cock in a dottir’s vagina, he drew in the head, swirled his tongue over the smooth, sensitive surface, and waited for the flood of seed, which he could feel coursing up the cock. This was the ultimate gift a Boyo of Vini could give another. This was the whole point of the ceremony, the first seed, the sealing of the vial, the presentation of the grape cluster, the one aspect of life between Normals and S’s where tradition was thrown in the trash.

The seed was acridly sweet, much like the taste of the blue root earlier in the day. He allowed it to splash over his teeth, to leak over to the inner side of his cheeks, to fill his mouth with Dimp’s pleasure. He wanted to keep it forever. He was now bound to this boyo, even if at some time in the future Dimp might reject him, he was bonded through Vini, god of the Autumn Harvest, god of Receiving the Seed of the Harvest.

When Dimp could give no more, Spid returned to the boyo’s mouth and shared the offering with the giver as the giving of the seed of the harvest is given to the planting, to Bud, god of Spring, god of Planting. They were one.

“Uh, um, I, well, um,” Dimp mumbled as he came down from his orgasm.

“Hush, feel the moment,” Spid said feeling his own cock reaching toward the mouth that usually brought satisfaction. That was the one thing about S boyoes, they didn’t need a dottir or another boyo to satisfy there need. They had more than enough length to compensate for the uncomfortable bending required to access that demanding thing between their legs.

“What about you?” Dimp asked. Obviously, he felt a need to reciprocate.

“You don’t have to,” Spid whispered, his cock twitching in disagreement.

“I have to,” Dimp said as he began opening Spid pants. “Although I am pledged to Bud, I desire to the want of Vini, too. I have to do this, one to one, one to another. Bud to Vini, Vini to Bud. It’s in my heart. Don’t stop me.”

“I’m not,” Spid said leaning his head back against the cave wall.

“Damn, how did this get so big?”

“Funny you should ask, it seems to do that on its own. I think it has to do with the boyo thing.”

“Smart, really smart.”

“Are you going to play with it or suck it?” Spid pleaded. “Hurry, before it performs its little trick all by itself.”

Spid shut his eyes and saw the priest of Vini kneeling before him, giving him the same pleasure Dimp, his bond, was giving at this moment. The priest spat Spid’s offering in the vial. Dimp was going to accept it into his body, forever binding him to Spid; one to one, one to another.