EdenvalesSecret Page 3

  “Anything I’ve missed?” Jones enquired with a small shudder as he was secretly afraid of Kris, especially of his voice as it lacked any sort of emotion.

  Kris signed the inventory and pushed it back across the desk. “That’s all.” He smiled as Jones flinched.

  “Alright. Good trip then, Kris. See you when you return. Any idea how long you’ll be?”

  “Have you?” Kris brusquely questioned.

  “No,” Jones stammered.

  “Then you’ve got more idea than me. Later,” Kris waved a nonchalant goodbye, grabbed his rucksack and ran athletically to the docking area.

  Soon, Kris was boarded. The Spitfire carried up to ten bounty hunters toward the front of the transport vessel and coped with a large amount of inventory in the hold, including up to ten cruiser or hunter class ships belonging to individuals. Kris recognised a few faces but regarded none of them. He made his way to the rear left and left his hunter’s pack in the chair next to him. There was nothing he liked less than hours of inane chatter. Other hunters took their places away from him and the lights dimmed before the craft began to shake ready for take off.

  Chapter Five

  Assembly on Dania

  Four Worm Holes later, through the darkness, dense gassy clouds and solar flares of the nearby systems, finally Kris took his first glimpse of the calm, clear beauty of the Agri Hub with its brightly twinkling diamond studded skies. Kris landed The Scarab on a designated field in Edenvale. There to greet him, was a small assembly of people, mainly from the Dania Agricultural Committee, but also a number of other interested locals. Kris rapidly took stock of them—humanoids, in general, a gathering of Steelers, and a small smattering of Arcanians, noticeable by the bi-coloured eyes and protruding ridge of bone upon their foreheads, seeking political refuge. All were dressed semi-formally, in an oatmeal textured linen garment resembling a kimono, which wrapped around their bodies and tied at their waists.

  Birch was first to step forward and greet Kris. In his pocket, Kris kept a small laser pistol at the ready, set to stun for the time being.

  “Welcome to Edenvale.”

  Kris returned Birch’s tight handshake. As tradition decreed, Kris was given a shot of spirit made from Lupe, a sweet green vine fruit native to Edenvale. He drank it and shuddered, glad of the warmth as the long journey had chilled him. Next to speak was Hawthorn, Birch’s deputy.

  “Welcome,” Hawthorn nodded.

  “This is Fern,” Birch had his arm around his daughter’s slender shoulders.

  For a moment, Kris fell speechless. He had not expected the female Steelers to be so entrancing. She offered him a pale yellow hand. Kris flinched to feel the warmth running through her skin. Steelers have a fast metabolism due to their high work ethic. The heat pulsed into his fingers. “You are the one who sent the original message?” Kris swallowed, finding it hard to maintain her tranquil orange gaze.

  “Yes. I hope you had a good journey,” Fern replied.

  “Long,” Kris brusquely answered.

  “Can we offer you a drink or something to eat?” Fern politely offered.

  “No thank you. I am quite catered for. Miss Evergreen, if you and I could go somewhere and discuss matters, I can begin.”

  “Alright,” she stammered.

  “In The Scarab,” he pointed to his vehicle. “I can guarantee your privacy and safety within.”

  “Wait a minute,” Birch interrupted. “My daughter’s not going anywhere with a stranger.”

  “It’s alright, Father.”

  “It’s procedure.” Kris frowned. “I can only discuss the bounty with the originator.”

  Birch held onto Fern before letting her go. “Don’t be long.”

  Fern stepped into the front of The Scarab.

  Kris followed, noticing her small waist and sweeping hips. Kris was a little disconcerted already by Edenvale. In the motionless evening air hung the sweet, ripe scent of orange blossom and tilled, warm soil. Birdsong merrily exploded every so often, as did the haunting voice of an owl. He had not experienced anything so similar since leaving Earth and the senses stimulated both happy and disturbing memories which caught him off-guard. All he had been used to for a long while was the metallic element in the air of the Star Fighters HQ or the arid, heat-seared atmosphere of Balana, his last mission in the Quest system where he had been for the last year hoping to locate a pirate, without avail. “Through there.” Kris opened the glass door to the rear of The Scarab. “You can sit on the bunk.”

  Fern stepped through.

  Inside, the air was close and cold, chilled by air conditioning, not at all natural. A strip light fizzed into life, casting an artificial glow, revealing the sterile surroundings of metal and plain surfaces.

  As instructed, Fern sat tentatively on the edge of the bottom bunk.

  Kris pulled up a stool and sat facing her. “So.” He re-examined the paperwork. “You are a Steeler.”

  “Yes.” Fern smiled.

  The innocence he saw in her smile frightened him. “Briefly tell me what’s been happening to concern you.” Kris took a pen from the side and put it into his mouth, revealing to Fern his white teeth and tongue shiny from saliva.

  “Well, we depend on agriculture here. It’s our livelihood. We have nothing else. Ever since the planet was populated, Dania has been a thriving centre of food, animal and plant alike. Just recently though, things have been dying.”

  Kris slid the pen from his wet mouth and began to write on a stiff pad upon his firm thigh, which bulged as he sat down. “Explain.”

  “This morning, for instance, when I woke, our best field of brastley had gone from a lush, healthy crop to dry, useless stubble.”

  “And this just happened? Overnight?”

  “Yes.”

  Kris scribbled some more notes. “You said there were animals farmed on Dania. Bovine? Ovine?”

  “Both. Also sheep.”

  “Are they well?”

  “Yes. Luckily our stock seems healthy as yet. But the Fishers who farm at the bottom of the west field, they lost all their cattle last month.”

  “They were all wiped out?”

  “Not a one left alive.”

  Kris scratched his head. “Was this the only instance of livestock threat?”

  “Not the only one, but certainly the largest. Other farmers have lost individual animals.”

  “Not a whole herd before that?

  “No.”

  “I don’t suppose there is any evidence I can see?”

  “Of the cattle? No. They were destroyed in case they were diseased.”

  “I presume your brastley field is still intact?”

  “Yes. We can go and see it, if you like?”

  “First of all, I have to collect your bounty.” From his hunter’s pack, Kris pulled out a computer. “Where is your data card?”

  “We tend to keep them under our wrists.”

  “Do you have the bounty there?”

  “Yes.”

  “Give me your hand.”

  Kris watched almost in slow motion as Fern held up her wrist. She was completely different to the other females he knew. The first Steeler he had seen was two-dimensional on the screen in Hudson’s office and the image had not prepared him for the captivation he suddenly felt and fought off automatically in his mind. Her skin was a delicate shade of primrose and was occasionally peppered by small splashes of sunset orange, a batch of which revealed itself as her sleeve slid down her smooth arm. He found himself playing with the computer in his hand, forgetting to switch it on for a moment.

  He reached for her wrist. He had not handled anything as soft for as long as he could remember. Yet it came to him instinctively as his large, rough hand held Fern’s slender, lemony fingers aloft.

  As he did so, Fern inhaled and held her breath.

  “Hold still,” Kris said in a voice which almost quivered and took him by surprise. He passed the computer across the thin wrist and felt a warm shiver tickle his s
pine as Fern’s fingers slowly dropped over his own, revealing the soft orange shade of her oval fingernails. As the computer beeped inconveniently, Kris let go. He did not appreciate the warming effect she was having upon him. “That’s fine. I suppose you read the small print, but your bounty won’t be cashed until the hunt is completed. We just hold your currency until then.”

  Fern smiled. “I’m very glad you’re here, Kris. I should warn you, some aren’t so happy. Most are. The Committee took a vote and the majority wanted you here.”

  “I’m here whether they like it or not,” Kris declared. “Right until your problem is solved. Take me to the brastley field, I might as well get started.”

  Chapter Six

  What The Field Reveals

  The Scarab landed and the door hissed open. Kris jumped out first and, to his surprise, found himself reaching out to assist Fern on her way down. Her warm hand pulsated against his own again as she gently put her small weight onto him until she was steady on the ground. Until then, Kris had not noticed her feet, in light thongs with a wooden sole and twisted leather straps. Like her fingernails, her toe nails were also orange and her perfectly formed toes were mottled by the fascinating orange speckles.

  Kris wiped his brow with the back of his hand. Perhaps it was the long journey, maybe he had picked up something nasty at the HQ, it might have been the smells and sounds he had not experienced since Earth, or perhaps it was the bewitching effect of Fern Evergreen, but he felt strangely weakened.

  They were followed to the field by Birch and Hawthorn who kept a small distance. Kris’s heavy-duty combat boots crunched and squashed the brastley stalks with each stride as he looked around for clues. All the life had been sapped from the crop. Not a trace of the glorious gold remained, only a sad, dull, lifeless yellow and a few wrinkled ears. Kris picked one and examined it carefully in his fleshy palm.

  “See,” Fern came close, her words whispered against Kris’s bare neck, “no blight. No scorching. I can’t imagine what happened to them.”

  Kris surveyed the whole field. “Your other crops seem alright. Is that wheat over there?”

  “Yes.” They walked over to the adjoining field. “Luckily that’s still healthy. Kris, you seem to know a great deal about crops. How is that so?”

  “I used to live on a farm.”

  “I knew it.” Fern laughed melodiously, making her hair shake languidly. “Where? How long ago?”

  “Ten or so years ago, I suppose. Back on Earth.”

  “Do you miss it?” she asked. “Only I can’t imagine any other life. I always imagined farming was in the blood, forever.”

  “Not for everyone,” Kris bluntly finished the conversation and walked back into the midst of the ruined brastley. Something glimmered in the starlight and Kris bent down to investigate. A small object, made of some kind of metal, was half-buried in the soil. As he picked it up and secreted it into his pocket, Birch and Hawthorn arrived.

  “Found something, bounty hunter?” Birch asked.

  “Looks like your brastley season’s over this year.” Kris avoided the question.

  “I hope you find something soon,” Birch continued. “If the same thing happens to the rest of my crops, well, it could ruin me. There’s a lot of worried people in Edenvale at the moment. As Head of the Agricultural Committee, I’ll help in any way I can. We need an end to this mystery as soon as possible. Tell you truthfully, I don’t think you can help us and, to me, this bounty’s a big waste of currency.”

  “Keep your livestock away from this area,” Kris told him. “I’ll be back tomorrow to look round in the daylight.”

  Once alone inside The Scarab, Kris pulled open a cupboard door and pulled down a small table which had a rectangular inlaid microscope. From a drawer, he pulled out a pair of rimless spectacles, which nobody knew he wore. He placed the metallic object upon the microscope, which lit up with a purple ray and scanned the article.

  When it had completed, a tinny female voice declared, “Robotic life form, identity unknown, life force extinguished.”

  “Planet?” Kris enquired.

  “Steeler,” the monotonous, logical voice returned.

  The hairs on Kris’s neck stood up.

  “In the Robotix D system.”

  The Evergreen’s native land. “Any fingerprints?”

  A small pause. “Negative.”

  “Damn.”

  “Unable to compute.”

  Kris folded the microscope ledge away and put the first piece of evidence into a small bag, which he carefully sealed and dropped into fingerprint controlled storage. He removed his glasses and sat on his bed. He was disappointed. Fern had appeared so innocent. Pleasant, even. All this told him that his initial outlook was correct. Nobody was to be trusted. Ever.

  A wave of tiredness overcame Kris and he felt the need to lie down. He took off his tee-shirt and trousers and realised that a small erection had begun to form. Tired and half-hearted as the rise was, Kris had not had an erection without the aid of a robonurse since the incident with his parents. It came as a bit of a surprise. He had too many surprises already in Edenvale and was beginning to feel quite disconcerted. Kris expected the erection to disappear, so he took off his underpants and socks and slid into the chilly bed. The thrill of cold sheets appeared to enlarge it a little more so his penis pointed outward, not fully stiff, but enough to make a small tent of the bed sheets.

  Kris hardly dared touch it lest it disappeared. He made a loose fist and slid it up and down himself a couple of times with bated breath. It felt really good. Suddenly he found himself fantasising about Fern’s incredibly warm hands, so warm he could feel the veins pulsating beneath her skin, and how amazing they would feel wrapped around his most intimate parts. It grew an inch longer and at least a couple of centimetres wider in girth.

  His intercom buzzed. “Kris. It’s Fern. Can I speak to you? It’s important.”

  “Oh, fuck.” Kris jumped out of bed, catching his erection on the tight sheets, and pulled up his combats. “One minute!”

  Kris could barely buckle his trousers and, with his penis pressed back and bulging larger every second, he was rather uncomfortable. He decided there was no way he could answer the door like that, he might take an eye out, so he wrapped his tee-shirt around his waist so the sleeves covered the dubious hump.

  The door to The Scarab slid open with a hiss. Kris often heard he had an amazingly sexy body—every muscle hard and ripped and bigger muscles swept the side of his body from his shoulders to halfway down his torso so that he appeared arched like a feline. He felt a very light covering of perspiration on his forehead although the vehicle was quite cold inside.

  “Sorry to disturb you.” Fern gulped. “But you disappeared so quickly, I wondered if everything was alright. I mean, you’re not going away, are you?”

  “No, of course not,” Kris said, a little out of breath.

  “Oh,” Fern faltered. “Can I get you anything? A drink before you go to bed?”

  “No. No.”

  “If you like, there’s room in the house. It’s warmer and a lot more comfortable.”

  “This is fine for me,” Kris cut her short. He did not want to waste his erection and it kept throbbing to remind him it was still there. If she did not go soon, he would be tempted to pull down his pants and push it into her mouth between her smiling, gorgeous, orange lips.

  “I shall see you tomorrow.”

  “Fuck!” Kris shouted as the air tight door hissed shut, thankful The Scarab was soundproof, and waddled back to bed.

  Kris looked under the covers feeling very proud. He had forgotten what an incredible instrument his penis was. He had always been well-endowed and had found his lack of virility an obvious problem. No problem now, however. It was there to be savoured, long, hard, eager, with a brutal and relentless ache which needed to be wanked away and quickly.

  Kris began to tug at himself and smiled more that night than he had for the last three years in total. Thos
e magical undulations and inner tinglings throbbed through his shaft like electric sparks. He began to pound himself quite hard and laughed, he reminded himself of monkeys he had seen in the zoo as a child. Kris hadn’t felt this liberated for years. As he laughed, he groaned with abandon, like he had been given a special present he had wanted for ages.

  As the stroking and thumping began to lash harder, Kris squashed in tight at the top with a flick of the wrist until his balls turned as hard as concrete. He hastily reached out for a sock from the floor as he began to pump his hot white semen in a terrific orgasm that made him cry out like he was in pain. He laughed to himself again as he wiped the juice and sock fluff from himself. “Dania appears to agree with me.”

  Chapter Seven

  The Piglet

  Morning appeared with a thud and even inside The Scarab one could sense that a bright and cheerful daylight had arrived. Kris awoke and felt at least five years younger. He put his underwear into the microwasher with a fleeting smile and took a quick shower. Kris had the water set to his specific preference, scorching hot, and sighed as the droplets pattered pleasingly over his bronze-coloured skin. He pumped a pool of fragrant red shower gel into his large hand. He lathered fiercely, ensuring every inch of his body was squeaking clean.

  As his hands smoothed over the undulations and dips of his musculature, he surprised himself with another semi-erection. Rubbing himself clean with a sponge felt strangely soft, soggy and hot but didn’t count as a wank in the shower, he decided. However, he was more keen to start work and see what he could find, so only treated himself to a few small movements as the hot foam bubbled and burst against his skin in a thousand tiny crackles. He hoped that he would surprise himself again later that night where he could spend some quality time with himself.