Brain Plague

same.'

That made all the difference. She took a deep breath. The feel of his fingers, the scent of him, only cried for more. She pressed him to her breasts, her waves of hair spilling over his shoulders. They rolled down together on the cushion, only nanotex between them. She caught him between her thighs, feeling his hardness press into her. She pressed harder until she climaxed. She gasped, her nails digging into his back. Then she lay back with a smile, tossing the hair out of her face. 'I couldn't wait,' she breathed. 'I've wanted you so long.'

Daeren lay beside her, stroking her forehead. 'Chrys, I just want to make you happy, if it's the last thing I do.'

'Don't say that.' A touch of fear returned, fear of something she could not define. 'You have to live forever.'

'Anything,' he promised. 'I'll do anything I can.' She looked him over speculatively. 'Then let me see a little more of you.'

He regarded her as if thinking it over. Then he reached behind his neck to touch the collar control. The nanotex peeled slowly, down his arms and his chest and beyond, all the way revealing clear, unblemished skin, not even a broken vein. Just to be sure, her hand traced the curve of his muscles, exploring every inch. I got him back, she thought; I'll never have to see those muscles rotting in my dreams. She sighed. 'I'll sleep better now.' 'Then why don't you help me sleep better?' Twisting back her hair, she touched behind her neck. The nanoplast creased and gathered, flowing down from her breasts and up from her legs, collecting as usual into a compact disk that slid onto the cushion. Daeren started with his lips at her breasts, as sensitive as a woman, she thought. Then his lips traveled downward, deliberately, no hurry, only time out of time. After a time she felt herself rouse again. He slowly brought her up, soaring higher than before, until she cried out.

'So hungry,' he whispered. 'If only I'd known.' She frowned, slightly puzzled. 'What about you?' Turning to him, she kissed him all over, passionately, trying to rouse him. But below the waist he was cold.

'Didn't the doctor tell you?' he said. 'I'm still. . . recovering.'

Chrys sat up. She bit her lip. 'What does that mean?'

Daeren sat up with her, swinging his legs down. He looked away. 'It means I can't feel,' he said dully. 'When I first came back, I felt absolutely nothing. No taste but plain, no colors but gray. No want, no pain.' He looked at her again. 'Now I can feel maybe a tenth of what I should. Enough to know I should be the happiest man alive.'

'Can't they fix that?'

'Like growing a new leg, it takes time.' He caught her hand. 'Chrys, will you wait for me? While I get better?' His voice shook.

'Of course I'll wait.' Holding back tears, she rested her head upon his waist. What if he never got better, she thought with a touch of panic. What if he never could feel anything better than dopamine overload? Love was cruel.

Daeren looked out the window. 'You know, they have a whole resort out here.' He patted her shoulder. 'You'd look great in the pool.'

The pool was lined with sapphires. Chrys sank into the warm water and swam lazily, stopping now and then to watch Daeren's form slip in and out of the waves. She never took vacations, she realized suddenly. Just like her parents, with their goats to milk and hens to feed every day.

'Does the god taste good? ' asked Forget-me-not.

'Better than Endless Light.'

'It's good for us. The hormones enrich our circulation. There will be a golden age.'

The house produced dinner. Afterward the lights gradually dimmed, like natural sun. Daeren nodded down the hall. 'There's a suite for you.'

Chrys was puzzled. 'Did I tire you out? We can just relax.'

'That's okay, I just thought you'd want privacy.' He put a patch at his neck. 'You can have your people back.'

Suddenly his eyes flashed blue rings, very fast.

'The blue angels,' flashed Forget-me-not. 'They tell us to stay.'

Daeren looked confused. 'Why won't they leave?'

Chrys was puzzled. 'Your blue angels want the Eleutherians to stay.'

He turned away. 'They should listen to me.'

That was true; but now, Andra had said, the blue angels knew better, were there to help him get well. From behind Chrys caressed his shoulder, letting her hair fall to his neck. 'Why can't I sleep with you? They can visit whenever they like, all night.'

'Night is not my best time.'

'I'm here to look after you.'

So she joined him in bed, where they lay together quietly, arms entwined. Pleasantly tired from the water, Chrys felt light-headed from his touch, his head on her shoulder, her arm resting on his chest. She soon fell asleep.

In his sleep Daeren grew restless, tossing his head and arms. Chrys awoke, vaguely puzzled. The bed seemed comfortable enough; it yielded gently to the slightest pressure. But Daeren kept tossing, his shoulder digging into the mattress, then turning again.

Suddenly he shot upright. Out of the dark his eyes flashed blue and infrared. 'Take them back!' The voice did not sound like his own. 'Take them back, I said!'

Light came on from the house. Daeren's head twisted like a wild thing, an animal in a trap. 'Daeren—what is it?'

He shouted again, so loud she barely understood. Scrambling out of the bed, Chrys backed against the wall. From beside the bed projected two arms of plast that curled over to pin Daeren down.

'What's wrong?' she asked Fireweed. 'Did our people cause trouble?' Forget-me-not and several others had stayed with him, to help the blue angels.

'The blue angels still want our people to stay.'

'Bitch,' he screamed. 'You work for them—why couldn't you leave me there?' He kept on screaming, over and over, until Chrys fled the room.

She ran down the corridor until she could hear his voice no longer. Shaking uncontrollably, she slipped to the floor, hugging her knees. 'House?' she called. 'What's wrong with him? Are the blue angels false?'

'No,' said the house. 'I'm sorry to say, that was himself.'

'What do you mean?'

'He dreams of Endless Light.'

Chrys hugged her knees harder, until she could barely breathe. 'Fireweed? What happened? Did Forget-me-not say?'

'He begs the blue angels to take him over, like the masters.'

She shook her head, uncomprehending. 'Why?'

'He thinks he'll never feel good again.'

She hesitated. 'Even with me?'

'He was better today. But the nighttime is hard.'

'Why was he angry at our visitors?'

'I don't know. We promised to serve him as our One God.'

Chrys bit her lip. What if those who stayed with him did as he asked? 'House? How is he now?'

'Subsiding,' said the ceiling. 'He'll sleep again.' Farther down the hall, a light turned on. 'There is your own suite. Sorry for the trouble; I hope you sleep better.'

Chrys would have cried if she had any tears left. Instead, she sat staring, her mind dull.

'Our people are still there,' reminded Fireweed. 'We must find out what happened.'

Chrys looked up at the ceiling. 'My people are still with him.' She asked the house, 'What if they need help?'