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5
SOJOURNER
Airlock Eve had gone back into the airlock with Thuliak. We’d sent her to figure out what he wanted, and also to give Emissary and me a chance to talk to each other without Thuliak listening.
“Are you really not High Command anymore?” I asked her.
“There was no coded message, Weapons. I’ve given up entirely. I wasn’t faking that pathetic sobbing. This has broken me.”
I sighed. Part of me still wanted to fight this somehow. I’d grown up being told to never give into the taint, but it had been so easy to do it because giving in had feltright.
“I’ll be honest with you,” I said, “if you’re really not in charge anymore.”
She pointed toward the airlock. “I think by copulating with their king, Airlock is basically in charge now.”
“Copu…?”
“Never mind,” Emissary said, “it’s another old word for sex. We used it in High Command because it sounded the most clinical and least appealing. We used all these little tricks like that, and one of them ended up mattering at all.” She shook her head again.
“You want one too though, right?”
She nodded and blushed.
I squeezed her wrist again. “I’m still thinking about Eden too, Emissary. Despite what I said in front of the alien.”
“I am too,” Emissary said.
I shot her a sincere and hopeful grin. “We can still get Khetar without being total traitors.”
She nodded. It was like we were both trying to convince ourselves. Deep down, I knew that Eden as it had been was over. No woman could fight the taint, not when it was coming from the Khetar. We could still try to nurture Eden. It was still our planet, and these women were still my people. I’d still do the best I could to look out for them, even as I looked out for a Khetar to claim me like Thuliak had staked his claim on Airlock.
“Do you think they’re cockulating in there?” I asked, pointing to the airlock.
“Copulating. And yes, I think they are.”
“Goddess,” I whispered. “What do you think it’s like?”
“I can tell you it will be nothing like the orgasm therapists,” Emissary said.
“Really?”
Every month we went to an orgasm therapist. It was all very clinical, but it ended in a stress-relieving orgasm at the end of a full-body massage. I always experienced the orgasm almost the same way as when the orgasm therapist got the tension knots out of my back, before the orgasm part. It felt a bit more enjoyable to have the orgasm than it did for the knot to come out of my back, but it was just a few seconds of fluttering pleasantness. We’d been taught since we were girls that an orgasm was just a thing your body needed between periods. It might feel good sometimes, but that was just a side effect, and it was bad to try to make it feel better than it needed to feel. Liking your monthly orgasm too much was one step on the path to becoming tainted.
Emissary nodded. “The orgasm therapists are trained to barely make you cum. The give you just enough release that you don’t go crazy, but ultimately they are more focused on making you not cum too hard than they are on making you cum.”
“Come?”
“It means to have an orgasm,” Emissary said.
“Oh,” I said. “And is it called a dingdong?”
“It’s called a lot of things,” Emissary said. “That is one of them.”
I didn’t understand why it had so many names. Had women really talked so much about dingdongs, or was it men that had talked so much about them? I already felt too embarrassed to ask.
“It looked too big,” I whispered.
“He’smuchbigger than any human,” Emissary said. “I hope he’s not hurting Airlock in there.”
