Dan Simmons - Hyperion 04 by The Rise of Endymion

Author:The Rise of Endymion [Endymion, The Rise of]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Published: 2011-02-15T22:51:31.891000+00:00

Lying together in the moonlight, the sheets and blankets and the futon curled and thrown around us, the cool wind from the north drying the sweat on our bodies, her cheek on my chest and my thigh across her hip, we kept touching each other -- her fingers playing with the hair on my chest, my fingers tracing the line of her cheek, the sole of my foot sliding up and down the back of her leg, curling around her strong calf muscles.

"Was this a mistake?" I whispered.

"No," she whispered back. "Unless ... "

My heart pounded. "Unless what?"

"Unless you didn't get those shots in the Home Guard that I'm sure you got," she whispered. I was so anxious that I did not hear the teasing quality in her voice.

"What? Shots? What?" I said, rolling onto my elbow. "Oh ... shots ... shit. You know I did. Jesus."

"I know you did," whispered Aenea and I could hear the smile now.

When we Hyperion lads had joined the Home Guard, the authorities had given us the usual battery of Pax-approved injections -- antimalaria, anticancer, antivirus, and birth control. In a Pax universe where the vast majority of individuals chose the cruciform -- chose to attempt to be immortal -- birth control was a given. One could apply to Pax authorities for the antidote after marriage or simply buy it on the black market when it was time to start a family. Or, if one chose neither the way of the cross nor a family, it would last until old age or death made the issue moot. I had not thought of that shot for years. Actually, I think A. Bettik had asked me about those shots on the Consul's ship a decade ago when we were discussing preventative medicine and I had mentioned the Home Guard induction battery, our young friend of eleven or twelve curled on a couch there on the holopit level, reading a book from the ship's library, seemingly not paying attention at all ...

"No," I said, still on my elbow, "I mean a mistake. You're ... "

"Me," she whispered.

"Twenty-one standard years old," I finished.

"I'm ... "

"You," she whispered.

" ... eleven standard years older than that."

"Incredible," said Aenea. Her whole face was in the moonlight as she looked up at me. "You can do math. At such a moment." I sighed and rolled over on my stomach. The sheets smelled of us. The wind was still rising and now it rattled the walls. "I'm cold," whispered Aenea. In the days and months to come, I would have held her in my arms if she said such a thing, but that night I responded literally and stood to slide shut the shoji screen. The wind was colder than usual.

"No," she said.

"What?"

"Don't close it all the way."

She was sitting up with the sheet raised to just below her breasts. "But it's ... "

"The moonlight on you," Aenea whispered. Her voice may have caused my physical response. Or the sight of her, waiting for me in the blankets.

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