The Web of Sin Ch. 03

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Govinda remembers scenes from his history with Indhira.
2.7k words
11.4k
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Part 3 of the 4 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 05/14/2003
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©2003, k.x.

As he crossed raw space on his way to the Haradza hab, Govinda watched the ship he'd just left dwindle into a minor star in his hindsight. He'd recognized the design as soon as he was outside: a converted Kunyunese Heavy Cruiser, pointed at both ends, with a massive hypertorus around its middle. There were no markings, though, so he couldn't tell anything about the owner. He thought of asking the suit, but it was the kind without a ghost. And, the interface for the ship's mind had been offline since he'd faxed on board. All of this was Indhira's doing, of course; she'd locked him out of the usual sources of information, so that he couldn't be sure where he was in the Galaxy, or who all might be helping her play her game. Not that it actually mattered much. Ultimately, the game was between the two of them alone, even if other people might get drawn in, here and there, as obstacles or traps or reminders of past injuries. Like the way Indhira had used Atsuko against him. Or, at least, how she'd tried to use her.

Still, as angry as she made him sometimes, Indhira was right, he could learn to enjoy this. Living the last few years on an Ethical world like Pale Blue, Govinda had missed having enemies. Netcrime was a decent enough way to make a living, but doing it didn't make you feel alive, partly because it was so easy for someone with his skills, partly because Ethical governments were so impersonal. Of course, Indhira's style of crime could get out of hand, which was one of the reason's he'd been laying low for the last few years. That last job, especially, had scared him a little more than he liked, and had almost cost him his life. Or, he should say, the life of his original self, the one who was at this moment somewhere far across the lens of the Galaxy.

He flew on through the hard dark night, a journey of many long, silent hours before him. His destination was a tiny pewter bead in the far distance, a guttering spark ignited by the still-hidden parent star of the system. Unable to sleep, and with nothing better to do, Govinda closed his eyes and replayed old memories, letting his mind fill with scenes and images from the time when he began to hate Indhira almost as much as he'd loved her...

***

He'd been on Maravore for a week, and was still not completely recovered from a bad case of the new world blues. Usually, he adjusted to planetside life much faster than this. But, Maravore was an odd place, a construct built by gods-knew-who millions of years before, for some purpose long-forgotten. It had variable gravity, and orbited on the extreme inside of the habitable zone of its parent star. So, the heat and the strange shifting feeling of walking around with changing weight made most newcomers more than a little ill. Even in a cybskin, which kept the wearer perpetually fed and healthy and in touch with the local and Galactic nets, there was still an adjustment period.

So, Govinda had been spending his days going slow, until he felt well enough to pursue a more active schedule. He'd made his home base in the old city of Sikhazovot, which was in Maravore's southern hemisphere, a congenial, sleepy place mostly occupied by neo-humans, with a few different kinds of outworlders thrown in for variety. His rooms overlooked a dry canal and the plaza of a Shouter temple. The neighborhood was a quiet one, though, since the temple was in disuse, its worshippers having mostly committed ritual suicide years before (their religion had been based around a supposedly "holy" message beamed out of alien Tsunkatsa space; but, it was finally determined that the message was really just the noisy signal from an erratic pulsar).

Govinda had been spending his nights alone, laying sleepless in his oversized bed in his oversized apartment, with only the muted rhythmic ticking of the city's ancient prayer machines to keep him company. At first, he'd enjoyed the solitude, especially the part where he could for once finish a dream, instead of being awakened by Indhira and one of her other lovers for yet more complicated fuck-play. (They were good dreams, too; he'd bought them off an avant-garde artist from Iron Angel.) But, a week into his time on Maravore, he was starting to feel vaguely lonesome, perhaps even a little hungry in the old-fashioned predatory way. And so, although he was still a little unsteady on his feet, he decided to celebrate the one-week anniversary of his planetfall with a drink or two in the marketplace. It wasn't far, and was anyhow about the only place the locals went to socialize. After wandering around a while, he found an open-air cafe and ordered red tea from the vending drone. Then he settled in for some serious people-watching at a small table by the wide dusty road.

As he sipped his tea, he thought briefly about the recent past. His last argument with Indhira had been a bad one, but he liked to think he wasn't running from her. Instead, he told himself he'd simply decided to take a break, a sort of a sabbatical away from all her schemes and demands and subtle, clever threats. If he took a new lover, he or she might help wash Indhira's taste out of his mouth. Of course, he'd probably go back to her, eventually, just as she'd come back to him after all of their many fights. They were bound together in some deep way that defied logic or common sense. But, for the length of this one small space he'd carved out in his life, he thought he would simply pretend that she didn't exist, however hard a task that might prove to be. Of course, he could have chosen a paradise world, and had a proper vacation, instead of being stuck with a case of the blues on a backwater oddball like Maravore. But, Govinda had never liked to make it easy for people to find him.

Sighing, he made a serious effort to pay attention to the passing crowds. Not that crowds in Sikhazovot were all that heavy; at most the city's population was only about a hundred thousand. The natives who were strolling through the marketplace stopped now and then and haggled with various merchants, but seldom bought anything. The outworlders, on the other hand, often purchased little objects or pieces of fruit without haggling at all. The merchants seemed disappointed if they got their first price, even though they made almost all their profit that way. Govinda smiled a small, inward smile, thinking of all the different ways he could commit crimes in an old-fashioned economy like this one. It might be a nice diversion after spending so many years doing cutting-edge netcrime for Indhira's crew...

Just then, a shadow crossed his vision, and a tall outworld woman sat down at his table. She planted her elbows on the tabletop and leaned in, looking sideways at Govinda as she pulled the blackened husk off a grilled sukkao. Taking a big bite of the fruit's bright green flesh, she turned to face Govinda full-on, and smiled at him with her large dark eyes. "So," she said, talking around the food in her mouth, "you know a place we could go?"

Govinda was accustomed to forward women, but, even so, this one surprised him. He liked her long red hair and her pale milk skin, and the way she wore her cybskin, which was currently matte black with a subtle rippling pattern all over, like water covered with a film of charcoal dust. So, he was definitely interested. Still, at the same time, he wasn't completely himself yet, and so tried to slow her down some, even if only for a minute or two. He said, "Yes. I know a place. But...maybe you want to talk first or something? Let me buy you tea."

She took one more bite of the sukkao and tossed the remains in the hole in the table's center. Then she wiped her chin with her hand, and said, "No, don't want to talk first. Later might be okay...we'll see. But, anyway, if you don't want to do anything, you don't have to." She made as if to leave him, half-rising from her chair, but Govinda reached out and grabbed her hand. They stood up together, and, giving in, Govinda led her away from the marketplace and back to his rooms near the vacant Shouter temple.

***

Her cybskin was set to allow a basic hand-off ID, but nothing else. So, Govinda knew her name was Sabine as soon as he'd touched her the first time. He did not know the usual list of other things, such as origin or sub-species or last planet visited. Of course, Govinda's skin was set on highest privacy, and Sabine wouldn't know his name unless he told her himself. Which, he might do eventually...just, not yet.

They stood at the foot of his wide bed and let their cybskins melt off their bodies, each one rolling into a little ball which they kicked away with their feet. Govinda stepped back to admire Sabine's body, then held out a fingertip to trace a line from her ear to her shoulder to the sharp edge of her hip. In an age when it wasn't difficult to be perfect, beauty depended on imperfection, and Sabine had designed herself to be extremely pleasing to the discerning eye. She had a spray of faded freckles across the tops of her small breasts, a ragged scar along the inside of her left bicep, a wine-colored birthmark under the shadow of her collarbone. Her pubic hair was full, and surrounded her sex like a halo made of flame. Below that, she had thick rings tattooed in black around her thighs, and narrow rings tattooed in brown around her ankles. Standing there with his palm now massaging her hard little nipple, Govinda thought she was the loveliest woman he'd been with in a long, long time.

Sabine reached out and played with the soft black hair on Govinda's chest, then let her fingers walk down his body until they found his growing erection. She grinned at him and wrapped her hand around his penis, jerking on it until it was rock-hard. Then she sank to her knees and put out her pointed tongue, the better to taste the precome that was flowing in great clear beads of dew down onto her hand and wrist. Govinda watched her take his manhood into her mouth, watched as shadows filled the hollows of her cheeks, and recorded the memory of the way her lips rode up and over the ridge of his glans. He ached to be inside her cunt, and was tempted to grab her shoulders and drag her up onto the bed. Or, perhaps he could simply stand her up against the wall and fuck her like that. But, then again, the feeling he got when Sabine used her warm soft tongue to tease open the slit in the tip of his cock was the kind of feeling that could make all other desires melt clean away.

She worked on him with hand and mouth until his balls tightened and sparks of pleasure ran up his shaft. Sabine reached around and grabbed his ass, pulling him deeper down the length of her tongue. Then she sent an adventurous finger southward along his cleft. When her self-lubricated finger arrived at his asshole, she began to rub it around the margins, making his already unsteady knees even more weak. Much as he might've wanted to fuck her, Govinda was now so close to an orgasm, especially after having gone without sex for longer than usual, he decided to just let it flow. In a rough-edged, whispery voice, he said, "I want to come in your mouth." Sabine nodded around his cock and made an agreeable noise in her throat, then pushed her fingertip up his hole and massaged his balls with her palm. When she sucked him, it felt like being enveloped in the rippling muscles of a highly adept vagina. Govinda threw his head back and his hips forward, and fell deep into the vast blue sea of his own personal heaven.

Time slowed for him, and all his senses but touch went dull. He savored every discrete moment of Sabine's loving attention to his penis. He especially savored the sensations spreading out from his finger-full netherhole. He rode her hand, and on every downstroke, he felt a little warmer, a little more ready to surrender his seed. He waited for just the right moment, then allowed his nervenet to open up and out. When his orgasm came, it was like an ocean wave, starting slow in the deep water, then rushing ever faster to lick then crash on the shore. His sperm boiled up from his balls and flooded his shaft, then came spasming out of his cockhead in thick streamers of cream. Govinda opened his eyes and looked down to watch as Sabine caught his jism all over her lips and chin and nose. Then, still trembling from his extended O, he pulled his cock away from her and knelt down to kiss the come off her skin. Sabine laughed and hugged him close, and she let him taste himself on her playful tongue. Govinda's erection did not recede, but pressed hard against Sabine's thatch, nestled there like it had found the perfect bed to sleep in.

Govinda placed his hands under Sabine's ass, and was about to lift her onto the edge of the bed, where he planned to eat her out for at least an hour, when she sucked his earlobe into her mouth, then whispered his name. And that was when he knew for certain what he should have known already: there are no accidents in this world. Sabine had been sent to find him. Which meant, Indhira knew where he was.

***

He gave up on Maravore and left with Sabine on the next outbound lifting pod. They fucked each other to exhaustion in the crossing ship, then fucked each other far beyond exhaustion in the c+ cruiser that took them to Onlo. After all, Govinda didn't feel any resentment toward Sabine. If anything, he was almost glad he'd been found. It saved him the tedious trouble of having to try and outwit his lover, boss, and sometime enemy. He could run ahead of her for a while...but, he was nearly ready to submit that he couldn't escape her forever.

At Guindy Port, an old Haradza artifact in geosynchronous orbit above Onlo's main city of Omkot, Govinda parted company with Sabine, then went to see Indhira in her hotel room. She acted as if nothing had happened, and greeted Govinda at the door with a long, deep kiss. "I have a job for us," she said, "a big new job I think you'll like." As he followed her into her room, Govinda felt something go dark in his heart, because any time Indhira suggested to him that he'd like something, it always meant trouble...

***

Meanwhile, in the present, Govinda was pushing himself across space at the highest acceleration he could endure. Even so, when he checked the suit's chronometer, he saw that it would be at least a day until reached the hab, which was still a dot orbiting a mote of a moon in his foresight. He felt warm, and had his cybskin run cold plasma through its veins while he checked the sensornet. An orange icon in the shape of a stylized lightning bolt told him that local space was full of radiation. A block of code that appeared when the icon was on-focus told him the source: the primary, a gas planet wrapped 'round with countless giant storms. The radiation wouldn't affect him permanently, neo-humans could take all kinds of abuse from the universe. Like with the new world blues, he'd get over it, in time. And the Haradza hab would be safe, since its skin was impervious to just about anything. But, just knowing the radio signature of the planet was information, even if only a small amount. He'd file it away, in hopes that, one way or another, he might yet figure out where in the hell he was...

To be continued.

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