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Archive-name: Fantasy/mindstar.02

Archive-author: Jeff Buser - (C) 1990

Archive-title: Those Of A Mindstar Born - 2

Wendy called the plant in the morning, telling them she would not be in.  She 

buzzed Sarah, but cut the connection when Sarah's autoanswer message came on.  

She used the hygiene closet and emerged slightly fragrant, feeling more awake 

and even more eager to tackle the mystery ahead.  She switched on the viewer 

and examined her body.  She saw a woman, rather attractive by her own 

standards, standing before her.  Curly red hair halfway down her back, wide, 

expressive green eyes, big breasts, narrow waist, wide hips, muscular legs, a 

nice package.  Her bodypaint depicted white and yellow flames dancing about 

her ankles and feet, rising to yellow and orange at her waist and fading to a 

red which matched the color of her hair where it played around and between 

her breasts.  Her back was done similarly, and the whole was executed in a 

new holocrystal paint which gave a realistic impresseion of actual fire 

consuming her body.  She had been really impressed with the effect when it 

was introduced, but now it was getting a little tedious to see it on everone 

she passed on the street.

Her facepaint was done in a similar motif, but was more subdued, a mere hint 

of flame around the corners of her mouth and eyes.  Fortunately, her red hair 

and natural radiant sexuality made her one of the few women who could carry 

the flame paint well, and therefore few others had it.  But she had seen 

enough 3D dancing lines and churning waters and rising smoke and sparkling 

stars and whirling galaxies to make her think it was time for a change.  And 

thinking about it, she began to look under the paint at the woman herself.

For the first time she began to notice the effects of 'jac juice deprivation. 

Around the corners of her mouth and eyes, tiny wrinkles were forming.  And 

some, no, quite a few of her fiery red hairs were now a lighter color, a kind 

of gray.  Scanning downward she began noticing other little imperfections 

which had happened so gradually that she had never seen them.  Her breasts 

which, though large, had once projected firmly outward, now hung down against 

her body;  her once flat stomach had expanded slightly, creating a sloping 

mound between her crotch and chest, and her legs, still muscular, nonetheless 

looked thicker, heavier.  She knew from the shows that on other worlds these 

traits were characteristic of aging;  women of her age were often portrayed 

in those shows as either grossly fat or painfully thin, wrinkled, 

sunken-faced, and gray, but here these symptoms only occurred in the truly 

ancient or mortally ill.

She remembered that years before the invasion she had met a free trader in 

person;  how old had she been then?  Thirty-five?  Thirty-six?  The trader 

captain had been only a few years her senior, but at the time Wendy had 

thought she was the victim of some strange malady.  The captain had been 

strong and quite sturdy looking, and yet her short cropped hair had been 

silver and her face lined and twisted;  the sight of the trader's twisted 

face when it contorted with laughter had sent shivers up Wendy's spine.  If 

it was the fate of everyone who lived without 'jac juice to live two-thirds 

of their lives like that, then something had to be done.

She fixed a quick breakfast and sat down at the console.  She queried the net 

about the ejaculoids and confirmed most of what she already knew.  All life 

on the planet seemed to consist of various large and small organisms which 

reproduced by emitting a discharge of countless single-celled proto-beings. 

Out of these vast, photosynthetic colonies of single-cell life, one or more 

cells would eventually develop into a replica of the originator.  How the 

colony chose one cell to develop while the rest supported it's infancy, or 

why the discharge of all life forms on the planet seemed genetically 

identical, or any of an endless number of questions remained unanswered.  The 

compound was adequately equipped for exobiological research but long ago it 

had been decided that use of live ejaculoids for experiments was immoral, and 

the creamy discharge had yet to reveal it's secrets to human science.  Many 

varieties of ejaculoid posessed very high intellegence;  though they had no 

way of duplicating human communication, many people believed them to be fully 

sentient beings.  Even the discharge radiated an essence of life;  the psi 

people said it had a rudimentary telepathic empathy which disappeared in the 

mature orgamism.  Wendy cleched the crystal tight in her palm.  The warmness 

she felt was not entirely the heat of the cream's biological function but 

also an impression of something vaguely like emotion.

Wendy punched up all information on the Prophylactans.  Not much was known 

about them.  They had landed forteen years ago, origin unknown.  They looked 

like large, semitransparent bags made of some highly resilient membrane in 

widely varied sizes.  They could fly or crawl with surprising agility.  They 

seemed to posess no technological artifacts other than their odd, shiny 

starship.  Some had speculated that they had not built the craft;  that they 

had hijacked it, or were merely escaped specimens.  Their only direct 

interference with human life was to bar entry to the alien ship, but the 

indirect consequences of their other actions were bad enough.  They had 

emerged from the ship by the thousands only hours after landing.  They had 

quickly enfolded every ejaculoid in sight, absorbing the discharge;  within 

two days they were multiplying by budding new copies of themselves from their 

outside surfaces.

In captivity, they disintegrated into a pool of simple organic slime.  No 

effective weapon other than brute force had proved effective against them, 

and their close proximity to the ejaculoids and their overwhelming numbers 

made extermination impossible.  Once a team had used heat wands to burn their 

way through the gaurds into the ship without damaging it, but nothing useful 

had been found.  The Prophylactans had merely swarmed into the ship, burying 

the explorers, and had their power packs been exhausted before burning 

through the layers of living entombment the brave souls would likely have 

been lost.

So, the humans had turned back to their daily work, and found new  

entertainment in the systems which the original colonists and their 

descendants had long had little use for.  How could everyone pretend that 

nothing was wrong, that life inside the compounds was enough? 

Wendy remembered when she had been nearing the end of primary training.  She 

had been relieved that performance evaluations were over, and decided to go 

out into the natural sectors for a while.  She was nearly an adult, and her 

mother had been eager to let her experience the natural beauty of the world 

away from human engineering and technology.  She and two friends had taken a 

minimal amount of survival gear and had walked straight away from the 

compound in a randomly chosen direction.

She was alone.  Nyri and Gwen had gone off to look for flyjacs and she had 

stayed to ready the gear for the next day's walking.  She had gotten done 

before they had returned, now having a highly practiced and efficient routine 

for making and breaking camp.  She had walked in the opposite direction, down 

into a small hollow where two hills joined.  She came into a clearing and saw 

a 'jac like she had never seen before.  It was round and wide with a broad, 

concave back perhaps four or five meters across.  It's skin was light ivory 

with a purple-red tint.  All around it's circumference were the beautiful 

heads which were the trademark of most of the larger, mobile 'jacs.  The 

heads (she thought there were eight) rose up on long, slender necks and bent 

inward over the back;  from them poured a constant stream of discharge.   

She slid down a steep embankment and walked toward the creature.  She 

extended a hand and rubbed along the outside of the creature's body.  It's 

flesh was warm and, like most, was very smooth and firm.  There were no 

individual muscles that Wendy could see;  instead, any part of the body 

seemed able to become rigid or springy at will.  She stripped out our her 

briargaurds and pressed her own body against one of the necks towering above 

her.  She stretched her hands up over her head as high as they would go, 

caressing the thick, slowly swaying neck.  The head still bent over the 

creature's back, pouring cream onto itself in a heavy, pulsing stream.  Wendy 

reached down to where some of the 'jac juice was dripping over the edge onto 

the ground.  She dabbed her fingers in it and brought them to her mouth, 

trailing sticky tendrils of juice from the creature which then snapped and 

hung dripping from her hand.  She tasted the juice;  somehow it was even 

sweeter and more satisfying that that of the more domesticated 'jacs at home.  

Not much cream dripped over the creature's sides, however;  it must have been 

recycling the juice it sprayed.  Suddenly Wendy clambered up onto the back of 

the creature.  She slipped on it's damp side and fell headfirst into the 

center cavity, cream washing over her in thick, stringy waves.  Her chest 

made contact with a long slit in the creature's body, and the suction of 

rushing cream into that opening tugged at her breasts.  An abrupt awareness 

of sexuality burst into her mind, and then several of the 'jac's heads 

plunged beneath the surface to pull her up. Amidst the tangle of twisting 

necks, Wendy's head broke surface.  She shook her head, huge gobs of sticky 

cream flying from her long hair.  She wiped her face with her hands, licking 

residue from her lips and fingers.  All of the heads were now bent down, 

nuzzling her from all angles.  Her ass was wedged into the creature's back 

opening but the flow of cream had stopped.  

One of the heads was lying in her lap, about the size of a human head, 

rounded and with a single oblong opening nearly a foot long and several 

inches wide from which cream had just been pouring.  Wendy embraced the neck 

with her arms where it met the head, and pulled the head up to her face.  She 

began kissing it, dipping her tounge and lower lip into the opening to drink 

the residual juice there.

"It's OK.  I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to scare you or hurt you.  I just wanted 

to play."

As if in response Wendy felt the suction of the back opening start up, 

pulling jism through her legs and over her crotch in a constant flow.  The 

heads around her began sliding against her and the one in her arms erupted 

into a glorious fountain of juice, coating her face in a strong stream of 

white fluid.  Wendy opened her mouth, drinking deeply of the sweet, thick 

discharge, but there was far too much to consume and most of it splashed out, 

flowing down over her chin and chest in torrents of hanging drops.  She 

twisted her head, showering in the downpour as she felt a strange tingling in 

her crotch begin to build.  It seemed as if there was a buzzer in her chest, 

deep beneath her breasts, connected to another buzzer in her cunt by glowing 

electrical wires.  The wires began extending to her arms and legs as the 

heads of the 'jac performed their synchronized dance around her, sending 

waves of living jism up and down her body.  She began opening and closing her 

legs to vary the flow over her crotch, and periodically a head would splash 

beneath the surface to double the pressure on her awakening organs with it's 


The wires were now burning bright along every nerve of her body.  Her toes 

and fingers first stretched to their limits and then clenched into balls with 

the stimulation.  As the glow seeped into the base of her skull and spread 

out into her brain she believed she was one with the alien.  It was no longer 

a creature to her; she knew without doubt that it was a soul, like her, alone 

in a prison of flesh which they could now, only briefly, transcend.

And then the light exploded from her, illuminating the living stuff which 

penetrated her every opening.  She cried out, a long, high cry of sheer 

exhiliration which rose above the hills into space and time.  The light 

slowly, slowly, slowly faded to black.

When she had awoken, the heads of the 'jac had been back to their original positions, pouring a steady flow of juice over her body.  She lay in the cavity, her head hanging over the edge and her hair still dripping remnants of jism from earlier.  It was dark and the stars were out, clearer than she had ever seen them from the compound.  She mustered her strength and dropped from her lover's back.  She carried her briarguards back to camp and wiped off there, taking care not to wake her friends who had returned and were already soundly sleeping.  They might have just thought she had been bathing, but somehow they always knew what each other had been up to.  She wouldn't have been too embarrassed, except that her experience with the 'jac had been the

first orgasm of her life.  Some girls bragged about their exploits with 

'jacs, and while most people publicly expressed with mild humor that it was 

sick, Wendy knew that everybody fantasized about making love to them.  Just 

how many really did it she didn't know, but normal human relationships were 

much more fashionable and much less prone to humiliation upon exposure.  But 

after her experience in the hollow, Wendy wondered how making love with 

another woman would ever be able to compare with the feeling she had shared 

with the 'jac.

Wendy snapped off the console and rested her head on her arms.  This was 

getting her nowhere.  As a control systems tech, she better than anyone 

should be able to get useful results out of a machine, but her heart and mind 

just weren't in it.  What had some Mother said?  'The more things change, the 

more they stay the same'?  Wasn't everyone's blind acceptance of recent 

events just like the attitude they had displayed since the colony's birth?  

When the seedship had landed, and the suspended chromosomes had been nursed 

by the autodocs into adolescent colonists over the years, how had that new 

breed reacted to the discovery that all the children were sterile?  They had 

lived out their lives almost to extinction before Mother Krystal had proposed 

perpetuation through cloning.  The autodocs had all the necessary equipment, 

and soon a new generation of female children was alive.  The decision not to 

clone the males was based on many factors;  the one recorded for posterity 

was that to make a male clone, male and female chromosomes are both needed 

but female clones only require female cells.  The fact that the males had 

already shown more major signs of genetic damage and the possibility of worse 

defects was also mentioned.

The most basic reason, however, was that in the fifty odd years after the 

seedship had landed and hope for the future was lost, men had fucked up the 

planet almost irreparably.  Clique warfare, destructive hedonism and complete 

disregard for the native ecology had reduced the colony to a state of near 

barbarism.  But in the four hundred and fifty nine years since a dying 

woman's brilliant vision, there had been no warfare, no ecological abuse, no 

cultural excess of the sort which had destroyed countless empires before.  

There had been times of stress, of course, times at which the future had 

seemed bleak; there had also been women of action and women of insight, but 

the overwhelming majority of the planet's human history had been a tale of 

survival by indifference.

When the MetaC drive had been invented, allowing journeys that had taken tens 

or hundreds of years to be made in weeks, merchant ships had begun arriving 

every few days.  What had the government done?  They had imposed trade limits 

to keep the planet's economy the same as it had been during the time that a 

single ship's arrival made the history crystals.  When the Free Planets had 

rebelled against the oppressive Earth Empire, the government had actually 

seemed a little reluctant to let the Imperial offices close as the end of 

rebellion finally arrived.

And now their indifference was not only costing the planet's inhabitants 

their happiness, but might also be harming the planet's ecology.  Nobody knew 

how much damage the Prophylactans were causing because nobody really fully 

understood the workings of the native ecosystem.  The 'jacs were mostly 

dormant now, enveloped by the parasites.  They seemed to have almost no 

discharge, and at least this had reduced the reproductive rate of the 

Prophylactans to a near halt.  The accepted theory was that the discharge was 

not just the reproductive matter of the ejaculoids, but was also their food. 

Since the jism was no longer free to enter the environment and 

photosynthesize before being reabsorbed, the 'jacs were probably being slowly 

starved to death.  The humans would still be fine after the planet's own life 

came to a grinding halt, within the enclosed ecosphere of the compounds, but 

it was a tragic, stupid, fatal thing to simply let happen.  Wendy, her head 

still heavy on her arms, began to cry.


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