Respite was a loose definition of the transfer to Demodocus. The base was smaller than even Antioch, less manned and possibly more remote by less official specifications. More people likely inhabited the Faroe Islands than Greenland, and there were more villages, but the base was deeper and not truly even connected to the landmasses nearby.
Yuuki would hate the place; many of the ceilings and walkways were of the more recent Opentech, using bionano reinforcement to a living polymer that acted like glass by being clear and liquid, but shifted itself constantly and with intelligence necessary to maintain and grow itself. The whole of the vast sea was invisible, and the light of the sun shone not even as a haze glow. Invisible, that distant roof some two-and-a-half miles away with its fish and whales and life and the islands that moored there. The short walks were usually kept lightless, though there were dim tracks along the edges to be keyed on if they were wanted. Light attracted attention. But it wasn’t this that struck him as inimical to the young warrior. Rather the palpable feel of the water, the weight of its dark presence in the back of the throat that sat in his sinuses and made breathing shallow for his three assistants who had agreed to come along. It was a place so deep that it became akin to the lack of presence of space.
Only the mecha in the close hangar provided a slow, ponderous way out as necessitated by the sporadic pauses required for the equipment and the human body to adjust to the levels of pressure. Each Brondal-class could carry six passengers, and there were three. 17 people made up Caduceus’ entire world. Four of the Crew had been stationed at Demodocus for a year, prior to their arrival, carrying out research on pressure resistant technology for the partition exodus to the dwarf planet of Pluto. They were drear, quiet folk who had become somewhat incestuous in their isolation. The few soldiers that had come, a set of twins and a transfer from Antioch, had quickly removed themselves from any association with the ‘natives’.
It was only a matter of time before they all followed suit. It wouldn’t be as limited a pool, but most humans gravitated at some point in their dealings with tension and environmental restrictions by turning to sexual relief. It would all work out well, regardless of the isolation of Dr. Beorwith, Veldwore, Massonway and Massonway. Their foursome was established and well working. His assistants may find the soldiers beds.
His bed was already claimed, active pursuit or no.
Kilkenny reached down and curled a lock of gold around his fingers. Caduceus was ‘sleeping’, more because he enjoyed being still, quiet, and heavy with the feel of his Creator’s lap beneath him then actually needing the activity. It was massively unusual for an AI of any kind to not only weather periods of little interaction, let alone relish them. On the whole, Caduceus was a study in the sheer amount of possible residual effects a given body could have on the cyborg or potential AI it housed.
“Caesar?” The mumble was preceded by a soft moan, and the ‘r’ was almost wholly dropped. It would always be a regret that he could not see the colour of blue that opened up at him, nor read the expression there. Relying on the native AI, Precia, to collect data on the expanding use of expressions was dodgy at best.
“Shh, I did not mean to wake you. I was just admiring.” He untangled the strands from his finger and started to withdraw his hand.
Caduceus had learned to move like a human outside of training exercise, but deliberately moved fast enough to catch the retreating hand, “It is not disturbing.” But instead of back to his hair, Caduceus brought the captured hand to his collar, petting the fingers flat along it. Touch me.
Kilkenny decided he may have been too quick to judge that contemporary interest in his affections was not active. The AI was still, waiting, without breath or heartbeat to warn others’ intuition. They had finished the exposures to the college baccalaureate levels three days ago regarding the developmental knowledge of social behaviors and academic learning. “You’re wondering if I do not start to move my hand because I do not want you.”
Caduceus shifted, turning on his side so that the hand slid from his neck.
“You don’t want a lesson now, but you need one. Do you know what you want? What you intend with those hopes? “
“I want you to love me. “
“You want me to make love to you, or to be made love to. But you haven’t decided which. You don’t have the necessary function, Caduceus. Your Jehova’s Apple is designed to instigate a serotonin release when good sources touch you, or caress you, but you cannot get erect or ejaculate. There is no release. “
“You’re excusing yourself from either loving a dead body, or from loving a man.”
Kilkenny smiled, startled. It was a precise conclusion, perhaps arrived at before the decision to try anyway. The development was happening unprecendently fast. Risks. “No, I don’t want you to be hurt if I can come and you can’t. “
“I want to see you like that. I want to be the reason for it. I want you to love me, not just make love.”
“And my wants?”
“You never say what you want or think. You stay at a professor’s remove from the subject. Passionate, pointing out all the angles, but never what you yourself believe.”
“It’s good for research and not influencing the development of the subject.” There was a bite in his voice, a dangerous nasal draw that meant Caduceus was probably sneering.
No, not subject. That is dangerous and close to old paths through that brain. “As a father to son, I want you to become strong, clever, wise and patient. Exemplary. But your own skills must be developed for that. I am sorry you feel distanced from me. I do love you, Caduceus. I was just lamenting that I cannot see you. How many men get to spend every day with such a creature? Something so beautiful and quick, and speak with it and teach it. I do not want to hurt you. I always worry that I may. “
It was usual, all the circumstances and signs, that Caduceus would come to love his ‘father’. The AI shifted again, up to hands and knees from the feel of the weight distribution. His long fingers brushed on either side of Kilkenny’s thighs. “I am ready for this. It hurts more to not touch you. “
There was a long pause while Caduceus was calculating exact sensations. “Yes.”
A shift in weight again and long fingers slid along Kilkenny’s jaw and pet back until the steady hands cupped his face. Caduceus shifted nearer, straddling his lap. “Let me receive you, Caesarian.”
Exposing him to all the aspects of human life through high school and college may have been a mistake on my part. It had been years since anyone had touched him so earnestly or gently. The rush of heat to his cheeks and lips was embarrassing, the rush to his groin, dizzying. “You’ll be very good at seduction.”
Caduceus leaned in so that Kilkenny’s chin was rested on the dip between his own and his lower lip. His words brushed soft against the doctor’s thinner lips. “Seduction has the implications of multiple lovers.”
Where did you learn that? It was an unusual way to speak, creative. Kilkenny closed his eyes. That was fast. From ‘waking’, to brief words, and now he is straddling me. What happened to that lesson? Where did that go?