Starlady & Fast-Friend by George R. R. Martin Read Free Book Online Page B

Melissa no longer.
    Fast-friend.
    He ached to join her. She was smiling at him, beckoning. There was a dark waiting for him, too. He would join it, merge. Then, together, he and Melissa would run, faster than the starships, faster than light, out, out. The galaxy would be theirs. The universe, perhaps.
    But the government man held his arm. “Her next,” he said. Fat Canada kicked free of the place where they stood, hardly hesitating. She knew the risks, like them, but she was a dreamer too. They’d tested and traveled with her, and Brand knew her boundless optimism.
    She floated towards Melissa, chunky in her oversize suit, and reached out her hand. Her radio was on. Brand remembered her voice. “Hey,” she said, “mine’s slow. A slow dark, imagine!”
    She laughed. “Hey, little darkie, where are you? Hey, come to mama. Come and merge, little…”
    Then, loudly, a short scream, cut off before it started.
    And Canada exploded.
    The flash was first, of course. But this time, afterwards, no fast-friend. She’d been rejected. Three-quarters of all candidates for merger were rejected. They were eaten instead. Except, this time, the dark hadn’t enveloped her cleanly. If it had, then, after the instant of conversion, nothing would have been left.
    But this dark had just sheared her off above the waist. Her legs spun wildly after the explosion of violent depressurization. Her blood flash-froze.
    It was only there for a second, less than a heartbeat, a pause between breaths. Then another flash, and emptiness. Just Melissa again, her smile suddenly gone, still waiting.
    “Too bad,” the government man had said. “She did well on the tests. You’re next.”
    Brand was looking across at Melissa, and the stars behind her. But his vision was gone. Instead he saw Canada.
    “No,” he’d said. For the first time ever, the fear was on him.
    Afterwards he went down into the Station and threw up. When he dreamt, he woke up trembling.
* * *
    Brand left Robi with her dark, and sought the comfort of his angel.
    She was waiting for him, as always, smiling and eager for his company, a soft-winged woman-child. She was playing in the sleep-web when he entered, singing to herself. She flew to him at once.
    He kissed her, hard, and she wrapped her wings around him, and they tumbled laughing through the cabin. In her embrace, his fears all faded. She made him feel strong, confident, conquering. She worshiped him, and she was passionate, more passionate even then Melissa.
    And she fit. Like the fast-friends, she was a creature of the void. Under gravity, her wings could never function, and she’d die within a month. Even in free-fall, angels were short-lived. She was his third, bred by the bio-engineers of the Jungle who knew what a trapper would pay for company. It didn’t matter.
    They were clones, and all alike, more than twins in their delicate sexy inhuman angelic simplicity.
    Death was not a threat to their love. Nor fights. Nor desertion. When Brand relaxed within her arms, he knew she’d always be there.
    Afterwards, they lay nude and lazy in the sleep-web. The angel nibbled at his ear, and giggled, and stroked him with soft hands and softer wings. “What are you thinking, Brand?” she asked.
    “Nothing, angel. Don’t worry yourself.”
    “Oh,
Brand
.” She looked very cross.
    He couldn’t help smiling. “All right then. I was thinking that we’re still alive, which means Robi left the dark alone.”
    The angel shivered and hugged him. “Ooo. You’re scaring me, Brand. Don’t talk of dying.”
    He played with her hair, still smiling. “I told you not to worry. I wouldn’t let you die, angel. I promised to show you the fast-friends, remember? And stars, too. We’re going to the stars today, just like the fast-friends do.”
    The angel giggled, happy again. She was easy to please. “Tell me about the fast-friends,” she said.
    “I’ve told you before.”
    “I know. I like to hear you talk, Brand. And they