subtly, becoming less childlike. She was, in short, a golden-haired little beauty.
But her manner changed most of all. She remained highly irritating, but she also became highly suggestive. And, oddly, it was when she was most infuriating that she was most intriguing.
“Where do these lead?” Ex asked, gesturing toward an irregular series of openings in the wall. She was almost better now, and eager to go everywhere.
“Only to the big gas crevasse,” Arlo said. “No way to pass that. It’s the largest canyon in the caverns, hundreds of miles long.”
“Oh, let me see!” she cried, and ran for the nearest hole.
“Wait!” Arlo exclaimed, pursuing her twinkling bottom. Part of his mind noted how much fuller her buttocks were than they had been; perhaps it was because she had sat for so long, recovering. “It isn’t safe!”
But she scurried on through, bending over to clear the low tunnel ceiling. This had the effect of thrusting out her posterior further, making it an object of increasing interest to Arlo, though he was aware that there really was nothing there. Still, the immediate danger alarmed him.
“There’s a dropoff!” he called. “No safe way down, from here—and the gas would choke you anyway.”
She scooted on around a bend. He followed. Beyond it was another turn, and here the passage narrowed so far that her hips caught against the sides. He knew the drop was close ahead, so he grabbed her where he could. One hand passed inside her legs, catching the front of one thigh, his fingers sinking into the smooth flesh. “Stop!” he cried.
“You’re doing it!” her voice came back. “Goosing me!” She wriggled, and her hips slid through the constriction.
He tried to hold her, but first her thighs pressed tightly against his hand, then spread wide, and his fingers slid out. Again he experienced that mixed excitement and alarm, wanting to hold that thigh because it excited him, and to protect Ex from danger—and losing that hold despite everything.
He dived after her—but now his own hips caught in the constriction. He ripped free, scraping skin on both sides, for the rock was very rough. Annoyed by the burning pain, and by her escape, he accelerated again.
“Oh!” she cried ahead, and for a moment he feared she had plunged into the chasm. But she had stopped in time, and now was sitting on the cliff edge, dangling her legs down.
“Why didn’t you wait?” he demanded angrily. “You could’ve gotten killed that way! I told you it was dangerous!’’
She looked out into the mist before them as though nothing had happened. “What is it, Arlo? I’ve never seen anything like this!”
“It’s the gas crevasse, as I said,” he said tightly. “The gas vapors drop down from the ceiling, there.’’ He pointed to the distant, lofty roof, not actually visible from this vantage. “They drift into the bottom, maybe a mile down, maybe more—I don’t know how to judge it—and get sucked into tubes. At the other end, way across the caverns, there’s fire. It blows into the passages and makes the hot upwind tunnels where the prison is. The wind finally expands and cools and slows and comes back here, to pick up more gas and repeat the cycle.”
She peered down. “I can’t see anything.”
“ ‘Course you can’t. There’s no glow down there.”
“Then how do you know about the gas?”
“My father told me.” On one of those few prior occasions when Aton had talked freely. He was more apt to tell about things than about people.
“How does he know?”
“Fat Hasty must have explained it to him, when they were on the Hard Trek.”
She sniffed. “That’s a myth.”
“What?”
“The Hard Trek. It’s just a prison story. There never was any such thing.”
“My father was on it!” Arlo protested hotly. “They had nothing to eat, so they ate their own dead. The chimera stalked them, and the myxo, and—”
“It’s a lovely story, anyway,” she said. “And
But her manner changed most of all. She remained highly irritating, but she also became highly suggestive. And, oddly, it was when she was most infuriating that she was most intriguing.
“Where do these lead?” Ex asked, gesturing toward an irregular series of openings in the wall. She was almost better now, and eager to go everywhere.
“Only to the big gas crevasse,” Arlo said. “No way to pass that. It’s the largest canyon in the caverns, hundreds of miles long.”
“Oh, let me see!” she cried, and ran for the nearest hole.
“Wait!” Arlo exclaimed, pursuing her twinkling bottom. Part of his mind noted how much fuller her buttocks were than they had been; perhaps it was because she had sat for so long, recovering. “It isn’t safe!”
But she scurried on through, bending over to clear the low tunnel ceiling. This had the effect of thrusting out her posterior further, making it an object of increasing interest to Arlo, though he was aware that there really was nothing there. Still, the immediate danger alarmed him.
“There’s a dropoff!” he called. “No safe way down, from here—and the gas would choke you anyway.”
She scooted on around a bend. He followed. Beyond it was another turn, and here the passage narrowed so far that her hips caught against the sides. He knew the drop was close ahead, so he grabbed her where he could. One hand passed inside her legs, catching the front of one thigh, his fingers sinking into the smooth flesh. “Stop!” he cried.
“You’re doing it!” her voice came back. “Goosing me!” She wriggled, and her hips slid through the constriction.
He tried to hold her, but first her thighs pressed tightly against his hand, then spread wide, and his fingers slid out. Again he experienced that mixed excitement and alarm, wanting to hold that thigh because it excited him, and to protect Ex from danger—and losing that hold despite everything.
He dived after her—but now his own hips caught in the constriction. He ripped free, scraping skin on both sides, for the rock was very rough. Annoyed by the burning pain, and by her escape, he accelerated again.
“Oh!” she cried ahead, and for a moment he feared she had plunged into the chasm. But she had stopped in time, and now was sitting on the cliff edge, dangling her legs down.
“Why didn’t you wait?” he demanded angrily. “You could’ve gotten killed that way! I told you it was dangerous!’’
She looked out into the mist before them as though nothing had happened. “What is it, Arlo? I’ve never seen anything like this!”
“It’s the gas crevasse, as I said,” he said tightly. “The gas vapors drop down from the ceiling, there.’’ He pointed to the distant, lofty roof, not actually visible from this vantage. “They drift into the bottom, maybe a mile down, maybe more—I don’t know how to judge it—and get sucked into tubes. At the other end, way across the caverns, there’s fire. It blows into the passages and makes the hot upwind tunnels where the prison is. The wind finally expands and cools and slows and comes back here, to pick up more gas and repeat the cycle.”
She peered down. “I can’t see anything.”
“ ‘Course you can’t. There’s no glow down there.”
“Then how do you know about the gas?”
“My father told me.” On one of those few prior occasions when Aton had talked freely. He was more apt to tell about things than about people.
“How does he know?”
“Fat Hasty must have explained it to him, when they were on the Hard Trek.”
She sniffed. “That’s a myth.”
“What?”
“The Hard Trek. It’s just a prison story. There never was any such thing.”
“My father was on it!” Arlo protested hotly. “They had nothing to eat, so they ate their own dead. The chimera stalked them, and the myxo, and—”
“It’s a lovely story, anyway,” she said. “And
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