Iris

toward space travel and the future of humanity. Sure. Those things are true enough. . . . But I didn't have to leave Earth for that. I was comfortable. Most of the time, I was even happy! How many people can say that?' She grinned at him. 'Maybe I came out here to save Brendan. He deserves a right to fight off his demons, to live out his dreams in some fashion. Maybe he's the only person I ever met who did deserve a second chance. He was dying back there among the masses, living to gratify the things that kept him unchanging. . . . Out here, maybe he can at least fight his way free of that.' Her eyes seemed bright, wistful.

'You're right. I don't understand.'

'Maybe I don't either. Maybe I came out here so I could understand. . . .' She laughed, odd and hollow-sounding.

'More than anything else,' John said, 'Brendan seems to be willfully blocking any attempts we might make to reconcile ourselves. We've got to help these people live with one another.' Ariane said, 'I guess I agree with you.'

'It's not just our personal survival at stake. This colony is supposed to last, even if no one ever comes to join us. I've put off bringing the first foeti out of the deep freeze; this is just the beginning. . . .'

'And it all doesn't seem very likely, does it?'

As he half listened to Ariane and John talk, Demogorgon disengaged himself from Shipnet entirely. He thought of losing himself once again in the Illimitor World, but the idea was unappealing. Most of all, he wanted Brendan—and Brendan wasn't in there. He'd tried once to make a version of him in Arhos , but it hadn't worked. The body was the same, yes, and equally thrilling, but its behavior, subtle as it was, somehow gave it away as a mere simulacrum, and a pale one at that. You could make him coarse and abusive and that is what he would be. Make him sensitive, and that aspect of Brendan would dutifully display itself. . . . The only one who could've put a real Brendan in the Illimitor World was Sealock himself, and he just laughed at the suggestion, never responding.

Listening to the others talk about Brendan made him want to laugh. Monster, monster in the sky . . . He suppressed a giggle, then sobered quickly. Their perceptions seemed confused. Cornwell was mostly interested in the content of his own ideas, and ideological egocentrism was always a good excuse, but why were Ariane's notions so different from his own?

His attention drifted away from them, thinking about his recent exchange with Sealock. Some sort of change will have to come over me, and soon. He noticed the first sensations of a developing erection and his lips twisted into a derisive smile. Some deep-thinking artist I am! What should I do, sit here and jerk off at the ceiling? He wanted to feel amused, but the thought made him angry, bringing unreasoning tears to his eyes.

Out of nowhere, Beth's hand was resting gently on his collarbone. She was looking at him with a kind of concern. 'What's the matter?'

'It's . . . nothing.'

She touched his face lightly and her fingers came away wet. 'This doesn't look like nothing to me.' He looked away from her, out the window, then said, 'What's always the matter, then?' She sat down beside him on the edge of the chair. 'I know. It's tough. You and Brendan. Harmon and Vana. Me and John. Even . . . even Brendan and Ariane. We always want what's out of reach, don't we?' Suddenly she reached down and, splitting the material of his garment, seized his penis, holding it in a pressure grip that trapped the blood inside. It swelled rapidly, involuntarily.

'What are you doing?' he asked, incredulous, feeling paralyzed.

'Nothing.' She lowered her head downward and took him in her mouth. As he watched her head bobbing slowly, ridiculously, up and down, he thought, But I didn't want this!

Still, he watched, fascinated by the sight and realizing that, for now, he was occupying Brendan's psychological niche. Is that what I look like? He found himself imagining that he was Brendan, and suddenly his perception shifted. He put his hand on the back of the woman's head and began pushing her down further, something that Brendan often did to him. She started to gag but didn't stop moving. He wanted to giggle.

In the background John and Ariane had fallen silent, watching them.

Suddenly Vana appeared from her compartment, naked, a broad smile on her face. She announced,

'Da-daaa!' and the PC hatches sprang open. 'It's orgy time!' They all gathered in the center of the room, on a ridge surrounding the exit hatch, coming to cluster together by ones and twos, forming a ragged circle.

Harmon was trying to grin, but his pale skin was suffused by a succession of easy blushes. 'This isn't exactly spontaneous, is it?'

Vana laughed. 'Whoever said it needed to be? Come on!' She started to peel him out of his clothes, and the othersslowly followed suit. They stood there naked, appraising each other, at a loss. Sealock looked them over with amusement, then his eyes fell on Demogorgon, still paired with Beth, and on his moist, still erect penis. 'Well, well,' he said, 'very nice. I told you you'd like it, kiddo!' His peal of laughter was absorbed by the soft walls.

The Arab looked away, starting to feel angry, then he suddenly felt his mood fall in line with the spirit of the occasion. 'Yes, you did.' He glanced at the others. 'Big brave heteros . . . I'll show you