This month’s theme:
Corridor & Cereals Part 7: More Love and Lust

Regular readers know that I occasionally do a column with stories that share titles with the songs of various recording artists. Here is the final installment of the seven-part theme honoring one of my favorite musical duos: Hall & Oates. As of this writing, Daryl Hall and John Oates have recorded 18 studio albums, but they have 28 compilation “best of” albums. It’s nice when labels shamelessly try to make as much money as they can, no matter how silly it looks.

In addition to wrapping up the seven-month-long Corridor & Cereals theme, this expresses the theme of Love & Lust.

 

“Out of Touch”
Science fiction
By David M. Fitzpatrick

The twin suns were golden red in the lavender sky above Ishtar-Dimuzid Seven. Ellie stepped out of her hut, which she’d built just inside the jungle treeline overlooking the beach. She saw Amanda on the beach, waving at her. Her heart soared with renewed vigor.

She burst out of the hut, long yellow ponytail flying about, wearing her tattered dress, and ran down the hill. The grass gave way to dirt and then to sand, and she hurried across the sprawling beach. Amanda stood waiting, a big smile on her face, wearing her gray Star Force uniform from neck to toe: jumpsuit, rank insignia, black boots.

Ellie skidded to a halt in the sand, spraying it up towards Amanda, but none was left on her uniform. “I’m so glad to see you!” she cried. She wanted so badly to wrap her arms about Amanda and hug the life out of her.

“Same here,” Amanda said. She was beautiful, with much shorter and darker hair than Ellie, and with a million-dollar smile. The smile alone made Ellie’s day, but of course Ellie wanted more.

The two women stood a foot apart in the blazing sun, and Ellie squinted against the brightness. “Got any good news?”

Amanda’s smile abated. “I wish I had some.”

Ellie sighed. “It’s ridiculous that such an accident can’t be recreated.”

“I know. If only the capsule wasn’t destroyed…”

Amanda looked over her shoulder, and Ellie followed her gaze. Ellie’s capsule was half-underwater; waves crashed around it.

“I’m sorry,” Ellie said. “I tried to bring it down gently, but…”

“It’s okay—it’s not your fault.” And the smile was back again. “Ellie, don’t worry. I’m doing everything that I can. I promise you that.”

They stood in a silence that wasn’t exactly awkward; no, it was very comfortable, in fact. But there were things unsaid, and they gnawed at Ellie like a dog with a bone.

“Power’s dropping,” Amanda said. “I’ll have to leave soon.”

“I’m in love with you,” Ellie blurted out.

Amanda seemed surprised; her smile vanished in one instant, but just as quickly it was back, widening across her face. “Are you sure? Maybe it’s just your situation …” She trailed off as Ellie shook her head.

“When we served together, when you were involved with Rose—I had a crush on you,” she said. “I knew I loved you then. If only you and Rose had broken up before I’d been reassigned! And now, I know you’re my rescuer, but that isn’t why I’m saying this. I don’t even know if you feel at all the way I do, but… if I don’t get back, I just needed to say that.”

Amanda stepped in closer, until their faces were inches apart.

“I’m in love with you, too,” Amanda whispered. “Why do you think it’s always me here, when there are thirty members of my team working on that transgalactic gate? We might not be able to come get you in a ship, but I promise you that the only thing that matters to me is opening that portal one more time.”

Relief and happiness flooded over Ellie. “I really want to kiss you right now.”

“Me too,” Amanda said, and her image flickered.

The projection vanished like a light turning off, leaving Ellie alone on the beach of an alien world six galaxies away.

On that beach, Ellie cried a mix of happy tears and sad tears.

 

“You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feelin’“
Science fiction
By David M. Fitzpatrick

“Are you absolutely sure about this, Miss Tamerlane?”

Carrie Tamerlane nodded as she wiped away a tear streaming down her face. “Yes.”

The woman who would administer the procedure gave her a hard, grim stare. “I cannot stress enough that this is irreversible. We can do this, but we can’t undo it.”

Carrie let loose with a long, shuddering sigh. “I can’t handle the pain. I’d never found success in love until Timothy. I was used, abused, cheated on, and humiliated in every way possible—emotionally, romantically, sexually, and humanly. Tim was the first man who truly loved me—the only man who ever would, and the only man I ever could love that way. And now he’s gone.”

“And what if he comes back?”

“His ship was sucked into a black hole, ma’am—he’s gone forever. And, besides ending my life, this is my only option.”

The doctor sighed. “Okay, then. I’ll administer the procedure, and when I’m done you will lose all capacity to love. You will lose all emotional connection to any past loves. When you think of those bad relationships, it will be as a machine considers them. And when you think of Timothy, it will be the same thing. You’ll no longer have the pain of losing him, but neither will you have the pleasure of recalling how he made you feel when you were in love.”

“I understand. Get on with it.”

The doctor leaned in and gave her the injection.

*     *     *

A lifetime of pain had abruptly ended. Carrie could remember feeling the pain, but it was like reading an emotionless report about someone else’s experience. Timothy was just like any of them: a story in her head, one she had participated in, but one that no longer had any emotional impact on her.

And then, five months later, Tim came home.

It was all very sudden. The military contacted her to say that his ship had been recovered. Apparently, there was some last-minute interdimensional jury-rigging of the hyperspace drive that enabled them to leap away from the beyond the event horizon of the black hole. The ship was damaged in the process, and ended up quite distant. With hyperspace communications down, it had taken them the next ten months to get within standard communications range of an outpost.

She left her show when the doorbell rang. Tim stood in her doorway, mouth agape, as she told him that she was pleased that he was home, but that she no longer loved him.

“You’re all I’ve thought about these last ten months, Carrie,” he said. “You’re what kept me going. Just knowing that I could get home and see you again was all I needed.”

She was completely detached emotionally, and she explained that she had had the procedure done to remove her emotions of love so that she would no longer feel pain over losing him—and that it was not a procedure that could be reversed.

“No chance at all?” he cried.

“None. And I have no inclination to try even if there were a chance. I don’t love you. I don’t recall the feeling of ever loving you. But I’m certain that you’ll make someone else an excellent companion and lover.”

He staggered out the door as he left, and she knew that she would miss him. She didn’t love him, couldn’t remember what it felt like to love him, and could never love him, but she valued his friendship—and knew that she would regret not having that.

The procedure did not prevent her from feeling something over that.

“It’s a very sad thing,” she said to herself, and returned to watching her show.

*     *     *

She was watching another show when her doorbell rang the next day. She was surprised to see Tim when she opened the door.

“I explained this to you,” she said. “I cannot love you.”

“But you can appreciate me,” he said. His face seemed as blank as she felt.

“I can.”

He stepped closer. “I had the same procedure that you did. I no longer feel love for you. But I do desire your companionship. I don’t wish to be without you in my life.”

She raised her brow. “I… feel the same way. Can we exist as friends without romance?”

“What is romance but friends who are intimate? I believe we can be both. Perhaps that’s what’s needed to love again.”

She gave a start. “The doctor said it could not be undone.”

“I’m willing to prove that wrong as your companion.”

She smiled. “That sounds like a good plan.”

 

“Family Man”
Alien SF/Polyamory
By David M. Fitzpatrick

Hal kissed his human wife and three children good-bye. “I’m off to Centurion on business,” he said.

The kids all cried and said they’d miss him. When Ann hugged and kissed him good-bye, they expressed their love for each other, and how much they’d miss each other.

“Say hello to Pareen for me,” she said.

“I will.”

He boarded the passenger jumpship and took the three-day trek to the planet Centurion. At the orbiting spacedock, he checked into the alteration clinic and gave them his records. He was in the chamber for seven hours before emerging in his new form. His brain was still human, but the window dressing had all been changed. He was a bipedal humanoid, but his eyes were bigger and were fluorescent pink. He was taller and thinner, his skin a mottled blue-green, and he had the characteristic gigantic oval ears. He looked like any normal Centurion—but, more importantly, he looked like the same Centurion who had visited last time.

Hal took a cab down to the planet and arrived home. When he walked in, his wife, Pareen, and his four young children greeted him with cheers and hugs. Pareen could barely wait to put the kids to bed before dragging him to bed.

“I forgot to tell you,” he said as she kissed him all over with her big, round, bubble-lipped Centurion mouth, “Ann says hello.”

“I’ll call her tomorrow,” she said. “But right now, you’re mine.”

*     *     *

He worked on Centurion the next few days, but he spent every free moment with Pareen and the kids. On his last day there, he didn’t have to work, so they went to a suborbital amusement park and had a grand time before swimming in Lake Eklaforus with the Centurion telepathic flying dolphin frogs. Eventually, it was time to leave.

The night before his departure, he and Pareen made love again in the puff bed in their sleeping-room sauna. As they cuddled afterward, she said, “I don’t want you to go.”

“I know, honey. But I need to be on Flaxor tomorrow.”

She sighed and hugged him tightly. “Say hello to Mimadal for me.”

*     *     *

Mimadal squealed with joy when she saw her husband. She was a four-legged Flaxorian, and now so was Hal; they wrapped their tentacles around each other as soon as he walked in the door and they never even made it to the domed coupling nest set of from the main house dome in the back yard. There were no children in this marriage to have to put to bed.

After their reunion union, she said, “I have a surprise. I’m with eggs.”

He brightened. “Seriously? Now?”

“Yes!”

“Then… you’ll be pregnant?”

“We’ll know tomorrow.”

And they did. She didn’t reabsorb her eggs, as she would if they were unfertilized; instead, she laid a clutch of five. He’d have five new children by the time he was back again.

“This is so exciting,” Hal said. “I don’t know how I’m going to work the next few days. I can’t wait to tell my other wives.” He gave a start. “They’ll hatch just before our family gathering. Will you be able to make the trip with the little ones?”

“I’m sure that I will!”

“Good! I can’t wait for us all to be together.”

*     *     *

He was gone from Earth for six weeks, during which time he visited all eight of his families around the galaxy. But he enjoyed becoming human again—his native form—when he returned home, and he was eager to see Ann and the kids. She was busy preparing for the gathering, but had good news: She was pregnant. This would be good news for everyone.

The family gathering was a few weeks later at a lakeside hotel, where they’d reserved lots of rooms, and Hal’s families began arriving. The wives greeted each other excitedly, and the various children immediately ran off to play together.

Just when the fun couldn’t have gotten better, a small ship flew over the property. “Your sister is here!” Ann called over the rushing wind as the ship set down in the adjacent field.

The various kids were already running to greet their aunt, and they were there before the ramp had descended. Hal and Ann and his other wives hurried to meet his sister.

“She’s so disapproving of this,” Mimadal said, her five tiny infants hanging off her tentacles, nursing off the suckle nubs there, as she hurried along.

“She believes that marriage should be a particular way,” Ann said.

“And this marriage certainly doesn’t meet her standards!” Pareen said, and the wives all laughed.

Hal’s human sister was descending the ramp as Hal arrived. She greeted the kids with smiles and love—there was never any doubt that she loved her nieces and nephews—but when she turned her attention to her brother, her face became stone.

“Hal,” she said. “Glad to be here. And how are you, ladies?”

Hal’s eight wives greeted her with great affection, although it wasn’t returned.

“My marriages are acceptable to just about anyone, Susan,” Hal said to her. “It’s time that you got used to it.”

“You know that I try,” Susan said. “I really do. And I like all of your wives. It’s just… it’s just wrong somehow, a bunch of women herding around one man like this. It’s the opposite of female empowerment.”

“It’s what we choose,” said Kendya, Hal’s four-armed humanoid wife. She was eight feet tall.

“We accept you and your choices,” said Ann. “Please accept ours.”

Susan sighed. “Surrender your dignity all you want, ladies. I’ll stick with female empowerment.”

She turned to the ramp and hollered up, “Come on down, boys!”

Out of the dark interior, Susan’s eleven alien husbands, and two human ones, emerged and headed down the ramp.

 

“Mano a Mano”
Science fiction
By David M. Fitzpatrick

They walked together, holding hands.

“I miss you,” he said to her.

“I miss you, too,” she replied.

When he looked up, he saw the Moon orbiting the Earth. It was daytime, but the Moon was clearly visible. “You’re so close,” he said to her.

She turned to him and smiled, squeezing his hand. “So are you.”

When she looked up from the domed habitat on the Moon, she could see the day side of Earth. She could see where he stood, looking up at her.

“We’ll be together next month,” he said, and he squeezed her hand. “I wish I could kiss you.”

She squeezed back, and then said, “I have to get to work. I love you, and we’ll kiss soon.”

“I love you too.”

When the link broke, her hologram vanished, leaving just the robotic facsimile of her hand that he held in his. Without signal, it relaxed.

He turned his gaze skyward. On the Moon, in her habitat, his hologram had vanished, and she was holding a lifeless robot hand as well.

Soon.

 

“They Needed Each Other”
Sword & sorcery
By David M. Fitzpatrick

Alika wasn’t supposed to be attracted to him, but she couldn’t help herself. He was an orc, for the gods’ sake! Elves couldn’t be attracted to orcs! But when she was foraging in the forest, far from the treecity of Woodwill, she stumbled across one sleeping in a hammock. It was strung up between two trees on a riverbank; his hair was wet from swimming, and he was nude; his clothes were strewn on the riverbank, and he was snoring.

She stood still, afraid to move and crack twig or rustle some leaves. She couldn’t tear her eyes away. He was typically orc in the face, with ugly features somewhere between canine and porcine, but he was otherwise an impressive male specimen: a muscular barrel chest, bulging biceps, washboard abs; and that amazing thing lying on his thigh. She couldn’t NOT look at it. He was by far longer and thicker than the biggest elf.

She knew she had to quietly flee before he woke, but she found herself moving closer, as if guided by unseen hands, until she stood beside him, staring at his powerful, greenish-skinned body, and that huge… Well, her sex drive had often been a challenge for her; it was why she was devoid of a husband and scorned by her clan. Lost in her thoughts, Alika suddenly realized that the orc had stopped snoring. She looked up at him—and saw that he was looking at her.

“I’m so terribly sorry!” she cried, and she spun about and stumbled away.

“Wait,” came his deep voice, and it was like a magic spell had made her stop in her tracks and hold her breath as she waited for him to speak again. She heard him rustling to get out of the hammock, and soon he bade her turn around. When she did, she saw that he had wrapped his tunic about his waist. At that, she was both relieved and disappointed. He looked at her with a bit of shame on his face.

“My humblest apologies,” he said, bowing his head. “I thought there wasn’t a soul for miles.”

His face was that of a dog-pig, but his voice, like his physique, was that of a god. She couldn’t keep herself from fantasizing as he stared at her, and she felt herself growing physically aroused. It was embarrassing. Forget all her other transgressions; the clan would be mortified if they knew about this!

“Are you all right?” he prodded.

“Yes, quite fine,” she said, trying not to undress him with her eyes.

Now, he seemed amused, as if he knew. “I know that orcs don’t meet elven beauty standards,” he said, and he flexed so that his biceps rippled and his pectoral muscles danced.

She was fighting against her urges. Images flew through her head: sex with an elven boy when she was younger than anyone approved; sex with two elven boys, which really infuriated them; sex with a human, which didn’t set well, either; and, of course, the time she was caught with the married daughter of one of the clan leaders. She was the sexual outcast in her clan, and she longed for another clan that would accept her…

And in that moment, she just didn’t care. She refused to be shamed for her sex life. She slid her pack off and advanced on him, unlacing her tunic as she went. She bared her breasts to him, and he took her in his strong, powerful arms, and they went down on the riverbank together. It was a tangle of clothing being torn off, and her long auburn hair being freed from its clips, but soon they were making mad love there. She didn’t stifle her screams of ecstasy, hoping that there really wasn’t anyone else around…

*   *   *

The sun was low in the sky as they lay, totally spent, after hours of lovemaking. She cuddled next to him, nestled in his massive arms, and he stroked her long hair.

“You’re extraordinary,” he said, smiling with pointed canines visible, and he kissed the tip of one of her tall, pointed ears.

She smiled back. “Your first elf, I assume?”

“No,” he said, looking sad. “I was once in love with an elf. Her clan, and my tribe, discovered us, and I was exiled. I’d hoped to be with her, but she relented to her clan leaders and shunned me.”

Alika sat up, looking at him in surprise. “You accepted my advances because I reminded you of your past elf lover?”

“No, my lady; I accepted your advances because you tore off your clothes and practically tackled me.”

She giggled. “I am not in great favor with my clan, either.”

“Tell me...”

*   *   *

His name was Jalargo, and they talked for hours. She related her many transgressions, and he told her the details of his exile. By the time the summer sun was setting, his face no longer seemed so ugly to her.

“If they knew what I’d done with an orc today,” she said, “I’d also be exiled.”

They were dressed, standing next to the river, as she finished putting her long hair back up. “Perhaps that would be a good thing,” he said. “I’m on a journey to a mythical land, far to the west—a community of half-breeds and mixed-race couples, where all are welcome. I… admit that I have long held feelings for my former elven lover, so…”

“So you hoped to find a new elf there, one who might love you?”

He nodded. “I didn’t expect to meet you. You’ve already captured my heart, Alika.”

She sighed. “It was just sex, Jalargo—great sex, but… I could never be another woman’s replacement.”

“I understand.”

He packed up and walked her the many miles back to her clan. She warned him that they could only get so close, lest the scouts spy him. The moon was high when they neared the perimeter, and she turned to bid him farewell.

“Farewell, my lady,” he said. “I’ll be traveling the Old Continental Road through the mountains, for the next thousand miles… if you should change your mind.”

She wished she could. She was drawn to him, but…

“Travel well,” she said. She went to him, hugged him, and met his lips with hers. She relished the iron hold of his powerful body, savored the taste of his mouth on hers. She began to get excited, and felt him growing so, so she broke their embrace. They stared at each other in the moonlight for a long minute, and then they parted. She watched him disappear into the forest night.

*   *   *

She was preparing to climb the family tree to her bedroom cabin when she heard the commotion outside. She looked down to see twenty or thirty of the clan guard on the ground, calling out her parents. She watched and listened as they descended from the family tree. Below, clanspeople had come down from their trees to see what was going on.

“What is this?” her father demanded.

“We come for Alika,” the captain said.

Fear crawled over her. It couldn’t be…

“My daughter? Why?”

“Perimeter scouts reported seeing her with an orc—and kissing him!”

The gathered crowd collectively gasped in horror.

“Lies!” her mother cried.

“No, my lady. Six scouts witnessed this from tree outposts. Your daughter has often disgraced our clan, but this is unforgivable…”

Alika slid down the wall of her cabin and hugged her legs to her. Her life had just ended.

*   *   *

She was imprisoned that night, and the clan elders held a trial the next morning. She was quickly convicted and banished from Woodwill, with the elders promising to spread the word far and wide that Alika of Woodwill was a known orc whore. The vicious words hurt her, but it hurt more to hear her parents and siblings stand to agree, and turn their backs on her in a gesture of exile.

They gave her a pony and supplies, and she rode hard all day. She found Jalargo where he had just left the local trail and gotten onto the Old Continental Road. He was surprised to see her, but pleased. She leaped into his arms and they hugged and kissed.

“I don’t care what anyone thinks—I’m not ashamed of who I am or who I’m with,” she said. “Make love to me right here, on this road, in broad daylight.”

She tied the pony up, and then he unfurled his hammock on the ground and laid her there, and he ravaged her under the sun and blue sky, and it was even more incredible than it had been the day before. Later, when they had recovered, she told Jalargo what had happened.

“This destination of yours sounds worth investigating,” she said, “but I just can’t be some replacement for another elf you still love.”

He sighed and reached out to stroke her long auburn hair. “Sweet Alika, you would never be a replacement. I thought she loved me. I proudly accepted exile for her. But she didn’t do the same. She turned on me to stay with her clan, and while I still have regrets and sadness, I have not loved her since that betrayal. I could only hope to win your love one day.”

Orcs were not known for being poetic romantics, so his words melted Alika’s heart. They embraced, and she reveled in the feel of his strong arms holding her.

*   *   *

They journeyed for nearly a thousand miles, and it took them a month. Sometimes, Alika walked; other times, she rode the pony. Jalargo always walked, and he was a machine. She felt that she was slowing him down.

They bedded down somewhere every night, where they always made love. Sometimes it was sweet and romantic; other times it was furious and lascivious. Always, she felt closer to him when it was over.

And every day, he told her of the mythical land where mixed-race couples and half-breeds were welcome. It was called Marvelous, and at the end of their month, they found the sign directing them up a side road, and they found it. It looked like a human town, with wooden buildings and cobblestone roads, but there were many races there, with plenty of mixed couples. There were human/elf, human/dwarf, and human/orc couples abounding, but many others as well. There were even some orc/elf couples. The children playing in the streets were hybrids, and none of them seemed to notice or care.

“Welcome to Marvelous,” said the mayor, who met them in the center square with his wife. He was a handsome human, but he had low points on his ears that hinted at some elven ancestry. His wife was a felinoid, with cat-like features. “Here, all are welcome. We judge our citizens only on their characters. We’ve built this town from nothing in ten years. In another ten, we will be a city. And ten more, perhaps an autonomous state.”

The communist society was one of true equality, and they were given a house and assigned jobs. Their first day was spent apart—the big Jalargo training with the militia to defend Marvelous, and Alika working in the town bakery. She loved every moment of it, except that she longed for Jalargo.

That evening, the first night in their house, they made love again, she atop him in the dominant position. When they finished and she collapsed atop him, both covered in sweat and breathing heavily, she said, “I felt it today.”

He furrowed his thick brow. “Felt what?”

“The knotting.”

He seemed confused. She climbed off him and cuddled up in the crook of his arm. “It’s a particular feeling of twisting and stabbing, as if a muscle deep inside is pulled and stuck with a needle.”

“That’s terrible!” Jalargo cried. “You must see a doctor!”

She laughed and slapped his chest. “No, silly. It only lasts for a few hours. It’s how an elf woman knows…”

She trailed off, looking at him with hopeful eyes. It was the deciding moment: Would he love her or leave her?

Realization spread over his face, and his eyes grew wide. “You’re… with child?”

She nodded, holding her breath.

He bellowed with laughter. “WITH CHILD!” he cried out. “Our child! And that child will be born in the greatest city on the face of this world!”

Alika’s heart swelled with happiness, as her lover roared his approval: “WE’RE HAVING A BABY!”

And he kept repeating it until cheers of congratulations began calling out from neighboring houses. Alika felt tears of joy streaming down her cheeks, and she allowed herself a few moments to enjoy that before she’d celebrate with him, one-on-one style.

 

David M. Fitzpatrick is a fiction writer in Maine, USA. His many short stories have appeared in print magazines and anthologies around the world. He writes for a newspaper, writes fiction, edits anthologies, and teaches creative writing. Visit him at www.fitz42.net/writer to learn more.