Harbinger by Jack Skillingstead

Author:Jack Skillingstead [Skillingstead, Jack]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science Fiction; American, Science Fiction, Immortalism, General, Fiction
ISBN: 9780982073032
Google: BJprPgAACAAJ
Amazon: 0982073038
Barnesnoble: 0982073038
Publisher: Fairwood Press
Published: 2009-09-02T04:00:00+00:00

chapter ten

We parked the tandem bicycle behind the Bedford Falls Hotel, crossed the promenade, and entered the hotel by the rear entrance. A middle-aged woman was behind the front desk. Delilah took my hand and led me up the stairs, passing through diamond-paned light on every landing.

“You have a room here?” I asked.

“I have every room here. My mom and I run the place. That was her at the check-in desk.”

“So you know which rooms are empty.”

“Naturally.”

We came to a room on the second floor. Everything from the rug runner to the wainscoting to the paneled doors was mock period accurate. But the locks, which resembled yellowed ivory doorbell buttons, were actually thumbprint readers. Delilah pressed her thumb to the reader by our door and the lock snicked open.

I followed her in and shut the door. She turned to me. I slid my finger along the collar of her bodysuit, felt the slightly raised nub, inserted the edge of my fingernail and drew the finger down, smoothly parting the clever static seal. The suit fell off her like a yellow shadow. Beneath it she was naked. She unzipped me then undid me, and we went on from there, wonderfully.

Much later, I said, “So is recreational sex discouraged?”

“Is that what this was,” Delilah said.

“Not as far as we’re concerned, but I’m wondering if the PTB might have other ideas.”

We were lying on the bed, damp among the rumpled sheets and pillows. It reminded me of a similar situation a long, long time in the past.

“PTB?” Delilah said.

“Powers That Be.”

“There aren’t any PTBs in The County. That’s all on the Command Level. We all know what’s at stake and what can and cannot be tolerated in the interests of the overall mission. The County power structure is minimal. And are you sure this isn’t just recreational for you?”

“Delilah—”

“What?”

Something disarming and charming came to my lips, but I recognized it for what it was and wouldn’t let it out. Instead I said, “You’re not Nichole.”

Uncomfortable beat. Then: “I know that.”

“I mean, this isn’t anything mystical.”

“Okay, Ellis. I know. I was kidding about the reincarnation idea. Don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried.”

“Good. I’m not worried either.”

“We’re on the same page, then.”

“Sure, of course.”

More uncomfortable beats.

“Well,” she said, “I’ve got a hotel to run.”

“Come on,” I said.

“What?”

“You’re mad.”

“I’m not mad. What makes you think you know so much about me, anyway?”

“Hubris?”

She laughed, which was better. “Really, though. I’ve got work I’m supposed to be doing. The whole day can’t be picnics and sex, can it?”

“Can’t it?”

“It can’t. At least not recreational sex.”

“Ouch.”

She got out of bed and clothed herself. “Are you still planning to stay a while?” she asked.

“Hell, yeah, the room service here is phenomenal.”

“Very funny.”

She was all sealed up again, like a pretty yellow banana with curves and bumps and a sexy musk. If only there were a bunch of her, but that might have been more than I could have peeled.

“Do you like this room, sir?” she asked. “It’s one of the nicest ones. If you look out this lovely bay window you can see Main Street.

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