Here’s another thing you need in that stuff—a solar charger. That would’ve helped me on the berg, and it would’ve saved me a lot of sweat as I tried to power the suit from that ship’s little electric source.
Have you ever tried to wire into a totally alien electric source? I know. “The power armor has smart recharging circuits.” But they don’t work in a dead suit, do they? Fortunately the batteries contained just enough residual charge that I could analyze the power and start a manual charge. It was slow going; sailboats don’t need much power, but my suit does.
Once I had it wired and charging, I went back to my women friends who’d been waiting patiently for me on the couch. They’d been good women, so I untied all their ankles. This time Red wanted to feed me, so I untied her wrists and we went through another bowl of porridge. This stuff wasn’t as bad. Red too insisted on feeding me with her fingers, and I was getting to like the idea.
When we finished the bowl Blondie started raising a ruckus like it was her turn. Reluctantly Red turned around and crossed her wrists behind her for me to tie up.
I was still cautious so I did. And let Blondie take her turn. I was getting full. The first dish she pulled out was too peppery. The second stunk, but the third was real sweet. I let her feed me that one, and I enjoyed every minute of it. Getting marooned ain’t so bad sometimes, eh?
Well, about this time I was ready to use the helmet translator. No, I hadn’t forgotten it, but it wasn’t worth much without power. I double checked the suit charging. It was on computer control now and doing just fine, so I removed the helmet and put just it on. I had about five minutes of power stored in it for the translator, which would let me find out a little about what made these lovely ladies tick, and just how much they wanted to. Customs can be peculiar, you know.
I found out a fair amount from that first session, but it left a lot of questions unanswered too. The women knew who I was, at least in vague terms. (I was a space traveler coming to meet one of their leaders.) The space battle had been observed and they’d come sailing here to rescue me, if possible. I confirmed that they were traveling alone, no more aggressive than they looked, and very ready to please this important man from off-planet—although I wasn’t sure why. About then the helmet power ran out, so I stopped talking and plugged the helmet back into the suit.
Then I let them all loose. That I trusted them that far made them very happy; they each gave me a big buss as I let them go. It made me wonder where I’d taken leave of my senses. The women had all run off above deck. Soon the ship changed course. I went up and motioned for one of the women to show me what was happening. Captain motioned me into the cabin and showed me a map.
A map! Now one thing I had done before coming was learn the planet’s geography; I knew where I was going. So when she showed me where I was, I was delighted. It turned out that luck was with me. I was only a few hundred miles from my rendezvous point.
Captain pointed out where we were going. It was near my destination, but on an island about a hundred miles from where I had originally intended to land.
I motioned where I wanted to go. Captain made motions back to indicate that wasn’t okay, and started babbling again. I decided not to make a big issue of it then. I was tired. They were headed the right way, so I decided it was time to hit the hay. The only question was what precautions to take. The women were docile enough, but how long could I trust that? Better to find out now, before I was even more exhausted and before they’d had a lot of opportunities to alert a rescue party. Also, in a couple of hours I’d have a lot more charge in my power armor. Then I could do some more translating or use it to contain a situation if it turned ugly.
I decided on a light sleep. Light sleep is something we learn in the Agency. It’s like a cat nap. You sleep, but your senses don’t shut down completely. I sign-languaged to Captain that I was going to rest in the cabin.
She got the message almost instantly and led me into the bunks. There she turned down the sheets for me and got out a bucket filled with warm water. Slowly, gently, she took off my shirt and pants, then gave me a luxurious sponge bath the likes of which I have never had on any world, civilized or primitive. She was still in her clothes, but I was wishing to God she wasn’t.
Boy, was I clean by the time she finally finished! I was a couple of other things too. It was a good thing I didn’t have to walk anywhere, ’cause I’d’ve walked like I had Long John Silver’s peg leg. All I had to do was climb in bed, alone though. Captain tucked me in and gave a good night kiss.
Given that sendoff, I didn’t think there was any way I was going to have a problem light sleeping. (I didn’t think there was any way I’d sleep at all for at least three hours.) But I’d endured more than I’d reckoned. I fell fast asleep as I was doing an internal check.
How long I slept I don’t know. But when I woke it was dark, and there was a naked body beside me. In the moonlight I saw that it was Blondie, asleep, bound hand and foot. Across the corridor was Red in a similar state. I looked aft. Captain was minding the wheel. She waved at me while she continued minding the ship’s course.
About this time Blondie woke up. She gently pulled my face to hers with her bound wrists and gave me a long lingering kiss.
It turned out that when they said they were very ready to please me, they really meant it.
Half the night I spent with Blondie and Red, the other half between Blondie and Captain. Come dawn it was Blondie’s turn on the bridge and I cozied up as best I could with Captain and Red. “Once a king always a king, but once a night is enough” was not in these women’s vocabulary, and I was not about to put it there! But I want to tell you, I was doing heroic duty that night. And what was your power armor doing for me then? … On second thought, don’t answer that. I managed just fine. Thank you.
Well, not to lengthen a long story, I made it to my rendezvous, linked up with the agency, and found out more about the nasties who’d been after me. It turned out that they were assassin androids hired by the leader of one of the local xenophobe factions. They were good ones, too. I was very lucky that where those pests where made they didn’t know about icebergs.
I also found out a bit more about the women’s xenophile faction. The three I met were, shall we say, unusually committed to “bringing the stars to our planet,” as the party motto went.
When the word got out about the xenophobe faction’s clumsy attempt to use off-world help, it took most of the wind out of the isolationist sails on that world. They’ve opened the world up and I’m going back.