Chapter Thirty Five

Coming back into his office after several days away always made Bateman shiver with apprehension. Especially when he had been unable to give his time to anything else than the particular matter at hand. So, coming back after trying to negotiate an agreement with the Muslim-Christian Alliance over ending their Jihad-Crusade against non-believers, was going to be particularly traumatic.

He had known that the talks were going to be difficult, after all, first he had to convince them that the whole thing was a non-starter due to the fact that most of the rest of the world had no interest in any form of a higher being. Which, Bateman admitted to himself, was exactly how he wanted it. Secondly, he had to make sure that stopping them working against the rest of the world wasn’t going to mean that they started attacking each other again. These religious types really seemed to think that they were put on the planet just to fight and die. If they wanted to do that, Bateman wished that they would do it in a more constructive manner. He could think of lots of uses for people with that degree of single-mindedness. If he could work out how to get ordinary people to behave like that for the Executive Committee, he’d be delighted. They’d do exactly as he wanted and he wouldn’t have to go through the expensive process of turning them into drones.

So, he came into his office, sat at his desk and instructed his avatar to give him a list of the items that had been flagged for his personal attention, in the order they arrived.

Most of it was fairly minor, but Bateman liked to keep a handle on everything so he made sure that a certain amount of information that was normally handled by subordinates made its way onto his desk. Rae seemed to resent that a little, feeling that Bateman didn’t really trust him, but he should have realised by now that Bateman didn’t really trust anyone and it was nothing personal. There was also a certain amount that he had a personal interest in and had flagged specifically for his attention. One such item came up as he worked his way through his in-tray.

He quickly read the report that was marked as having come from an agent in Town Tower. When he first opened it, he realised that it was more about Logan and felt a surge of anger. But, as he read on, he realised what it actually was. The names of the two men who had attacked Logan. He smiled as he saw that it was two fairly minor EarthForward members who had apparently tried to advance themselves within the organisation by acting as unofficial bodyguards for Lukas. That was somewhat ironic, Bateman thought, but he refused to have people getting in the way of his plans. Nobody attacked people that he had his eye on. Well, not unless he wanted them attacked, of course.

He passed a copy of the report to the Chief Inspector of Town Tower Police, along with a note about how he wanted it dealt with and then filed it away in the folder he had set up for information on Logan.

***

Kem sat looking at the fire burning in the grate. He held a large glass in his hand that was half full of Saharan Zinfandel. Saffia sat in a high-backed chair next to the fire and looked at him. In the background, soft classical music played. He had been surprised to discover that she was just as much a fan of late twenty-first century Deep Indigo as he was. There were so few of them around. He was toying with the idea of introducing her to Chandler. He thought she’d like that as well.

“You aren’t happy are you?” she asked.

Kem looked at her and then back to the fire, taking a large gulp from his glass.

Saffia got up from where she was sitting and went across to sit next to him on the sofa.

“I can’t pretend to understand what you are going through. It must be so hard for you,” she said.

Kem shook his head.

“No. I’m handling it, I think. What I don’t understand is how you can stand being around me. I caused Lize’s death and then hijacked her body. I don’t see how you manage so well, seeing me every day.”

“No. It isn’t your fault. It’s the fault of whoever attacked you. It’s the fault of Earth First for sabotaging the New Argo. I suppose you could even blame Lize for wanting to have the damn thing investigated or Nicholas Bateman for vetoing an official investigation. You are the last person whose fault it could be.”

“But I’m right aren’t I? It’s hard seeing me everyday, isn’t it?”

This time it was Saffia’s turn to take a large drink from her glass. Slowly, she nodded her head in agreement.

“It is hard. It’s very hard. I see you and I see Lize. Even the things that you do differently underline my memories of her because they send a shock through me.”

“What do you mean? What do I do that is so different?”

“Everything. The way you walk, the way you sit, even the way you talk. They are all so different. Lize was so feminine and you, even in her body, you are so masculine.”

“Do you think so? Sometimes it feels like I’m fighting against a flow of female-ness.”

“Sometimes, when you’re working in Lize’s office, I’d watch you on my com-screen, like I did with her. Even the small, unconscious moves you make are nothing like Lize. I suppose I was hoping that something of Lize was still inside you. I lie in bed imagining you suddenly changing and becoming Lize again. I’m sorry, that sounds horrible.”

“No, I understand. I imagine waking up and discovering myself back in my old body.”

Saffia laughed, a laugh that was half humour and half despair.

“We are a bloody useless pair, aren’t we?” she asked.

Kem nodded in agreement.

“Come here,” Kem said, holding his arms open for her and she came across to him, nestling into the curves of his body.

“That’s nice,” Saffia told him, gently stroking the lambs-wool jumper he was wearing. “You feel all soft.”

“I was a little cold before dinner. This looked warm, so I thought I’d put it on.” Kem said, feeling a little embarrassed, being reminded of the femininity of his clothing.

“That’s okay. It’s good to feel soft and warm. That’s why I’m wearing this,” Saffia said, running a hand down her velvet dressing-gown. “I slipped into this after my bath, for that exact same reason.”

They sat like this for a while, slowly drinking their drinks. They were also both extremely aware of the proximity of female flesh. Softly, he lay his hand on her head and gently stroked downwards over her neck then along the length of her back. She gave a gentle sigh and closed her eyes.

“That’s nice,” she said softly. “Lize would do that when I had had a stressful day.”

Kem continued gently stroking her neck and back. He liked seeing Saffia this relaxed. He hadn’t seen her like this before. They sat, slowly sipping their wine, enjoying the comfortable silence that was between them, listening to Papa Midnite and The Late Nite Players.

Suddenly, almost without them realising it, the first bottle was empty, a second was almost drained and the album had finished. Saffia pushed herself up from her prone position, stretched and yawned.

“Oh,” she moaned softly. “That was wonderful. I feel so relaxed.”

“Glad to be of service. If I’d known that was all you needed to relax you, I’d have done it ages ago. What did you do for Lize when she was stressed?”

Saffia paused, looked straight at Kem and then leant over and placed a gentle kiss on his lips.

“This,” she said, pushing him back onto the sofa.

Softly, she kissed him again and again. It wasn’t until he felt her nipples brush his chest that he realised she had slipped her robe off and was naked underneath. Then, almost magically, certainly with no conscious effort on Kem’s part, they were both naked. He turned his head away from her mouth.

“Saffia, stop. Please,” he said as she kissed his neck. “You really don’t want to do this.”

“You wanted to know what I did when Lize was stressed. Well, let me relax you the same way,” Saffia whispered into his ear as she gently cupped his left breast. Kem groaned as her soft squeezing sent waves of pleasure through him. Saffia was right, Lize really did have very sensitive nipples.

“This isn’t right. You shouldn’t be¼ oh¼ you shouldn’t be doing this.”

Saffia’s hand trailed down his body and over his belly, before coming to rest on his thigh.

“We both need this. It will help you become accustomed to your body if you know what it feels like,” Saffia said, her voice becoming ragged and strained with lust. “Just part your legs a little.”

“No. Saffia, stop.”

Saffia wasn’t listening to him and, as he felt her tongue gently caress his nipple, he realised that his body was no longer listening either. He had read about bodies becoming ‘enflamed with desire’ but had always thought that it was merely poetic licence. But now he knew exactly what the writers were saying. His body felt like it had burst into flames. Waves of heat were rushing through him, waves that centred on his breasts and his vagina. It was still bizarre to him that he had a vagina but, at that moment in time, he was hugely aware of it and he knew that it needed attention. He had felt moments of sexuality before in this body – when he was washing and rubbed himself between the legs – but he had always made himself ignore them. He was only able to imagine one way of satisfying those urges and he found that he couldn’t bring himself to touch his vagina. To remind himself about his lack of penis in such a forceful way was just too much. But now¼ Now he was reminded of it in a way that he was never going to be able to forget. And he suddenly realised that it didn’t matter. He was here, in bed, with a woman more beautiful than any he had been with when he did have a penis and she was¼ oh, she was touching him. And it felt so good. All his objections and reservations finally fell away as he felt a finger slowly slide deep inside him.

He tried to push her on to her back, but she resisted.

“No,” Saffia whispered. “Let me. You don’t know what to do with this body. Let me teach you.”

Chapter Thirty Six

“What information do you have about this reporter woman? This Carlane Ling?” Bateman was snarling. Rae stood to attention on the opposite side of his desk, trying to avoid Bateman’s notice and subsequent wrath. A difficult prospect, considering he was the only other person in the room and Bateman was staring at him, his hands gripping the desk. In recent days, Bateman had started to become more and more vicious with his reprimands. The previous day, when one junior assistant had brought him tea instead of coffee, Bateman had thrown a chair at the poor unfortunate. He had only escaped a worse beating by running from the room. Bateman immediately dismissed him. So, it was with some trepidation that people now entered his office.

“We have ascertained that it is a false name and ident-card, sir,” Rae told him. “There are no registered freelance newstaper reporters with that name.”

“Ha. I had assumed that, you idiot. Tell me something that I don’t know. Quickly.”

He slammed his stick on the table and Rae flinched, the blood draining from his face.

“Well, sir, we’ve traced the ident-card to a Joseph Collins, but we don’t know who he passed it onto.”

“Joseph Collins? Who is¼?” Bateman paused as he realised who he was. “Fucking Logan, again. Even dead, he annoys me. Tell Barnes to kill him. Now.”

Rae turned and turned to leave. As he reached the door, he was brought up short by a gentle call from his employer.

“No. I’ve had another idea. Invite Mr. Collins to my offices. Inform him that I wish to discuss certain aspects of the case that Kem Logan was undertaking for my step-daughter. Be polite, but make sure he comes.”

Rae nodded and left the room. He pulled the door closed behind him and felt his knees sag. Wiping his brow, he breathed a heavy sigh. Joseph Collins may not have realised it, but he was in a lot of trouble.

***

The following morning, Saffia woke first. She looked across at Kem’s sleeping form and grimaced as she thought about the previous night. Although it had been her choice, even as she had made it, she knew she was going to pay for it the following morning. And she had been right. It had been enjoyable, exploring the same body again. Seeing Kem’s reaction to her touch had been a