The Great Escape Chapter 15, Part 2 of 11

The Great Escape
Chapter 15, Part 2 of 11

"No one could be, but it's my duty; now we're hitched.

"That's right; a husband's duty is to please his wife."

"So, what's a wife's duty to her husband."

"To let him please her."

"That sounds fair."

"Doesn't it? Could you come on, do your duty? It's nice and hard!"

Early morning, Roger gamely began to do his duty for the third time that night. At the same time, the party finally wound down. The relatives had rooms in the main house, the guests were sent to hotels in taxis, and Nathan and Mariotta Goldrick finally went to bed.

"I'm pleased with our son-in-law," Nathan said, unzipping his wife's dress and helping her step elegantly out of it.

"You should be. I chose well for Danielle: Roger has lots of potential."

"Potential? I'd say he's pretty accomplished already."

"Nonsense, Darling: a man isn't fully developed until a woman has licked him into shape."
Nathan paused.

"Why did you say 'you' chose well?"

"Well, of course, I wouldn't let Danielle decide for herself."

"She asked your opinion?"

"Naturally. A daughter needs her mother's advice."

"Frankly, I can't imagine Danielle not deciding for herself."

"Nat? However sure of her mind she may seem, a young woman's not fit to make such an important decision. It takes a wiser and older head."

"Danielle is twenty-nine!"

"Exactly! Not yet thirty. I wouldn't let a child's romantic notions decide our grandchildren's fate."

Nathan Goldrick knew his wife and daughter to be vital, intelligent, and strong-minded women for all Mariotta's pose as a dutiful diplomatic spouse. He had the most substantial doubts possible that Danielle allowed Mariotta to decide her choice of man. He went along with the fiction, nonetheless.

"So, what made you choose Roger?"

"He wasn't an astronaut or a footballer."

"Very sensible criteria, my love. Anything else in his favor?"

"Yes, he's got a steady job but isn't rich. He's moderately good-looking but not too attractive.

He's honest, fair, traditional, manly, liberal, and good with his tongue."

"Good with his tongue? You mean sex, don't you, not conversation?"

She raised a sculpted eyebrow.

"Of course you do," he smiled. "How did you learn that?"

"From Danielle, of course. It was the first thing I asked when she told me they'd slept together."

"The first thing?"

"Certainly. If he's going to be the life companion of my daughter, Roger needs to keep her happy in bed, and, as you know, confidence, consideration, and a good tongue are three parts of a good lover."

Nathan had nothing to add. He was himself traditional enough not to want to discuss his daughter's bedroom matters any further. He thanked God that no one had told him when Danielle and Roger had first slept together. Yet it reminded him of something from earlier that evening.

"So, what did you tell Roger about our first time together?"

"I told him how you shagged me up the ass under the stairs in my Dad's house when we were supposed to be playing tennis."

They were eighteen and had just finished high school. Their fathers had recently met and were arranging a business deal. With nothing to do on a hot summer's day, Nathan had accompanied his father. He planned to play tennis with Mariotta in the local park, but they never arrived. They never made it out of the house.

"You were very confident and gave me no choice," she said, sitting on the bed, smiling at the happy memory as she rolled a sheer stocking down a long fashionable leg.

"Darling," Nathan protested. "I recall that you seduced me."

"Memory will play tricks, especially on the elderly. You were the driving force, Nat, and I was too young and naive to resist."

"My beautiful Darling, you were young - you still are - but you were never naive."

She patted his cheek.

"You're sweet, but a woman who's just married off her daughter can no longer pretend to be young. No," she concluded with an ornamental sigh. "I must begin to grow old with grace."

There was no chance of Mariotta ever doing that. She was seventy years old, and after two rejuvenation treatments, she looked forty. She was still one of the most compelling women on the social scene.

As for Nathan, though he'd tried to resist his wife's demands, he'd also endured a rejuvenation treatment for her sake and now passed for a vigorous fifty-five. Stocky and shorter than his voluptuous wife, he had distinguished grey hair, a strong jaw, and intelligent dark-blue eyes. A boxer's nose gave him a pugnacious look. Still, his character was open, and he could have as much natural charm as Mariotta, mediated by his most attractive feature, a golden baritone voice.

"You know what's a good way to stay young?" he asked.

"No, what?" Mariotta said.

"To do again what you did when you were young."

"Of course. What do you propose?"

He indicated his clothes cupboard, a small walk-in affair with a ceiling sloped due to the second-story eaves. Her wardrobe was more significant than their bedroom.

"It's a bit like the cupboard under the stairs," he said.

Mariotta smiled.

"It's very cramped," she complained.

"That's the point, Darling."

Nathan had undressed to his shorts, and Mariotta had only her suspender belt and knickers to remove. He pulled her up and held her tightly as they kissed, and he slipped his fingers into her knickers, finding her as responsive as always.

He gently pulled down her knickers and undid the suspender belt; then he led his beautiful wife into the cupboard, and they fucked as forcefully and possessively as they had done fifty years before.

The following day, Roger tied Danielle's wrists to her ankles, laid her on her front, and spanked her until her bum was hot and red. Then he fucked her hard. She wailed delightedly.

He did it again at lunchtime.

Mariotta let the honeymooners join their relatives and friends for a late lunch in the afternoon.

Danielle remembered limping theatrically for her mother's sake, but she yelled for real when she sat down. She and Roger shared a guilty smile.

After lunch and long, sincere goodbyes, Danielle and Roger were not just going on honeymoon but emigrating. Family and guests went home, and Mariotta sent the young couple back to the lodge. They were too wrapped up in themselves to notice that Mariotta sported a crick in her neck, and Nathan nursed a strained back. That morning, Danielle's parents discovered the reason why cupboard sex is for teenagers.

All too soon, the first part of the honeymoon was over. Mariotta released them early to spend the morning with Danielle, ostensibly to ensure she had packed everything but to hold her daughter and kiss her whenever the mood took. Nathan was less demonstrative but just as affected. He held Danielle tightly and kissed her cheeks, damp with tears.

It was a prolonged, tearful goodbye, but Roger and Danielle were finally on their way to the airport. They held hands in the car, silent at first, then laughed together at nothing, just like they had when they were first in love.

At the airport, they checked their messages for the first time since before the wedding. There were hundreds of congratulations to acknowledge. Then Danielle had a good idea. Spurred by the coincidence that Yumi, the girl with whom Ezra had spent his last day on Capella Spaceport, had a Kyoto mailbox address, and the head office of Hyper Star Japan, the engineering firm she was visiting, was near Kyoto, she took a chance. She sent a message to Yumi, saying who she was and that she and Roger were on their way to Japan.

Missing her brother at her wedding, Danielle thought it might be interesting to meet the last person he spoke to on Capella. Danielle kept her real motive safely hidden from her conscious self: she was deeply worried about Ezra and fearful for his safety. It would be a comfort to talk to anyone who had seen him more recently than she had.

It was a two-hour flight by Stratoliner to Tokyo, and half an hour into the journey, Danielle's communicator buzzed. She read the message twice before showing it to Roger. It was from Hayate Takahashi of Kyoto. It said:

"Danielle Harcourt:

In this time of glorious heat...

Esteemed Madam,

It would be more honor than your humble servant deserves if you replied to this missive with positive news about your humble servant's beloved daughter, Beautiful, who has been missing for more than a year and two months.

Beautiful father and mother, brother and sister, bow to you and hope our overflowing tears will move you to bestow good news upon your humble servants.

We hope you enjoy the summer season...

High Bridge Smooth."

"High Bridge Smooth?" queried Roger.

"The idiot messaging program robotically translated the personal names along with the text,"

Danielle explained. "Look, Yumi's name means 'Beautiful'."

"Are you going to reply now?" he asked.

"I think I should, though I'm unsure what to say."

She reread the message and wrote an answer, saying she was sorry but had no news of Yumi. She knew only that her brother and Yumi had been on Capella together. Danielle herself had hoped to speak to Yumi.

Fifteen minutes later, Danielle's communicator buzzed again. This time, it was an incoming video call. She accepted the link, and a young Japanese man's face appeared on the screen.

"Mrs. Harcourt?"

"Yes."

"My name is Itsuki Takahashi. You honored my family with a reply to my father's message."

The young man babbled in perfect English with barely an accent.

"I hope you don't mind my intercepting your communication with my father, but I have a good reason. Will you allow me to talk to you?"

"Of course."

"My father doesn't know that my sister went to Capella. He believes she's somewhere on Earth. I can't tell him the truth because I'm keeping a secret on her behalf."

"I understand, but what is the secret? Do you know where Yumi is?"

"I don't know where she is. I am just as worried as my parents, though I know a little more than them. Please can we meet up and talk? Where are you staying? How long are you staying? Will you be visiting Kyoto?"

"Yes, we're visiting Kyoto. We stayed in Tokyo for three days, and then we had a meeting with an engineering firm near Kyoto. We have another day after that before we leave Japan for Capella Spaceport."

"Ah! Can I see you in Kyoto? I can guide you to the best Temples and gardens."

Danielle consulted Roger and agreed to meet Itsuki Takahashi at the Nanzen-ji Temple on the morning of their last day in Kyoto.

Thus resolved, the rest of the flight went quickly, and soon they were in the vast Tokyo transport hub, trailing their suitcases and looking bewildered, not knowing what transport to take to their hotel.

There was a large choice: maglev trains, subway trains, levitating ground cars, air shuttles, and moving pavements. The bustle was terrific. People constantly streamed to and from the roadside pickups and train platforms, leaping onto moving walkways or squeezing into lifts to the airport or the subway.

Among the hurrying passengers and staff were robots—Japan's technological specialty—calmly giving directions or acting as porters and speaking hundreds of languages. When Danielle grabbed his arm, Roger was about to join a queue to talk to a robot.

"Over here, Darling," she said confidently.

She led him to a large gallery that opened onto the Tokyo skyline. Below were the maglev train lines and roads streamed out to the city's various districts and beyond. Beyond a row of booths, at the edge of the gallery were launchpads, where people stood on thick plastic cylinders, got their balance, and floated out into the sky. Others floated onto the gallery, skidded to a halt, and stepped off their cylinders.

"The air jellies!" Danielle exclaimed. "We have to try them."

"What are they," Roger asked, hopelessly out-of-date with modern technology.

"Here, I'll show you."

They went to a booth, gave the destination, and hired two larger cylinders with room for their luggage. Danielle immediately got on her cylinder and felt the comforting embrace of the air-suit. The cylinder rose six inches off the ground and wobbled a little until she held her arms out to steady it.

"Get on, Roger. This is going to be fun!"

"But what is it? What does it do?"

"Step on, and I'll explain."

Roger stepped on and immediately felt a slight pressure on his thighs, chest, and shoulders, as if soft, invisible arms were holding him in place.

"It's an air-jelly. The cylinder levitates and takes you where you want to go, and it keeps you in place by microwaves compressing the air around you. Try to move your arm slowly."


To be continued