Schismatrix plus - Bruce Sterling [54]
"Suppressant. With phenylxanthine to kick your IQ up. So you'll see how we feel."
"This isn't the full Carnaval mixture," Lindsay said. "Just the aphrodisiacs, half strength, and muscle relaxant. I think you need it since I smashed the spinal crab. You seem jumpy."
"You seem to know all too well what I need."
"That makes two of us." Lindsay pulled aside the loose sleeve of his wraparound blouse. "This is it, Nora. You could kill me now and call it allergic reaction, stress, anything." He looked at the gaudy tattoos on the skin of his arm. "Don't do it."
She shared his suspicion. "Are you taping this?"
"I don't allow tapes in my room." He pulled a pair of elastic cords from a styrene cabinet and passed her one.
He tied off his bicep. She did the same. With their sleeves rolled up, they waited quietly for the veins to swell. It was the most intimate moment they had ever had together. The thought aroused him.
She slipped her hypodermic into the crook of his elbow, and found the vein by the sudden rosette of blood at the needle's root. He did the same. They stared into each other's eyes and pressed the plungers home. The moment passed. Lindsay withdrew the needle and pressed a sterile plastic dot against her puncture. Then he did his own. They loosened the cords.
"Neither of us seems to be dying," she said.
"It's a good sign," Lindsay said. He tossed the cords aside. "So far so good."
"Oh." She half closed her eyes. "It's hitting me. Oh, Abelard."
"How do you feel?" He took her shoulder. The nexus of bone and muscle seemed to soften under his hand. She was breathing shallowly, lips parted, her eyes dark.
"Like I'm melting," she said.
The phenylxanthine hit him first. He felt like a king. "You wouldn't hurt me," he said. "We're two of a kind, you and I." He undid the ties and pulled her blouse off, then peeled the trousers inside out over her feet. He left the sandals on. His clothes flapped as he threw them off. They spun slowly in midair.
He pulled her close, his eyes blazing.
"Help me breathe," she whispered. The relaxant had hit her lungs. Lindsay took her chin in his hands, opened her mouth, and sealed his lips around it. He puffed gently and felt her ribs expand against his chest. Her head lolled back; the muscles of her neck were like wax. He hooked his legs around hers, from the inside, and breathed for her.
She let her arms drift, sluggishly, around his neck. She pulled her mouth back a fraction of an inch. "Try now."
He tried to enter her. Despite his own excitement, it was useless; the aphrodisiacs hadn't hit her yet, and she was dry.
"Don't hurt me," she said.
"I want you," Lindsay said. "You belong to me. Not to those others."
"Don't say that," she said, her voice slurring. "This is an experiment."
"For them, maybe. Not for us." The phenylxanthine had made him certain, and reckless in his certainty. "The rest don't matter. I'd kill any one of them at a word from you. I love you, Nora. Tell me you love me."
"I can't say that." She winced. "You're hurting me."
"Say you trust me, then."
"I trust you. There, it's done. Hold still a moment." She wrapped her legs around him, then rocked her hips from side to side, settling around him.
"This is it, then. Sex."
"Haven't you had it before?"
"In the Academy once, on a bet. It wasn't like this."
"You feel all right?"
"I'm comfortable. Go ahead, Abelard."
But now his curiosity was aroused. "Did they give you the pleasure tap too? I had it once. An interrogation drill."
"Of course they did. But that was nothing human, just white ecstasy." She was sweating. "Come on, darling."
"No, wait a minute." He blinked as she clutched his waist. "I see what you mean. This is stupid, isn't it? We're friends already."
"I want you, Abelard! Come on, finish me!"
"We've proven our point. Besides, I'm filthy!"
"I don't care how fucking filthy you are! For God's sake, hurry!" He tried to oblige her, then, and worked away mechanically for almost a minute. She bit her lip and groaned in anticipation, rolling her head back. But all the meaning had leached out of