Western Continent had settlements, far to the south, but here in the northern reaches virgin forests covered the sprawling land. At the coast, phalanxes of hills plunged to the sea to bury themselves in the swirling foam. Farther inland, great chasms cowered beneath the bristling peaks of the Ventures.
The heli service had marked some of the more spectacular sights on our map. Taking bearings from nav satellites I headed west over dense foliage.
As dusk neared I set us down on a grassy plain high in the hills. To one side was deep forest; a hundred feet beyond, the plain gave way to steep hills running down to a green and yellow valley. Across the vale a peak thrust upward so steeply that little grew on it. Waterfalls tumbled from the creases in the hill.
We got out the three-mil poly tents and their collapsible poles. I helped Derek pound stakes into the soft earth. We clipped the thin, tough material across the poles, and the tents were ready. Amanda began trundling in our gear.
Derek brought the micro and the battery cooler from the heli. He delved into the cooler and emerged with softies.
While I downed mine in two long swallows, he kicked at the grass. “How about going really primitive?”
I asked, “How?”
“A bonfire.” A heady thought. In Cardiff, as in most regions of home, wood was scarce and pollution so great that hardly anyone could get a permit to burn outdoors. Even the flue over Father’s hearth had its dampers and scrubbers.
Here, we need have no such concerns, as long as we were careful. I began clearing space for a fire.
The tough native grasses didn’t pull out easily; it took a shovel to dig them out. Their shallow intertwined root system ran just below the surface, and I had to spade to break the roots free.
Derek and Amanda returned from time to time with armfuls of firewood. I wondered if they intended our blaze to be seen from Centraltown. Our work kept us warm in the chill of the upland evening, but when we finished we immediately built up the fire.
I fed the flames from my cushion near the pit, while Derek and Amanda consulted on dinner like two master chefs sharing a kitchen. It pleased me that they liked each other.
We ate at fireside under the gleam of two benevolent moons. In the dark of the night, the crackling of the fire and the muted splashing of the waterfall across the valley were our only sounds. Knowing there were none, still I listened for insects and birds calling in the night.
Hope Nation seemed too silent. I knew our ecologists were preparing to introduce a few bird species and selected terrestrial insects. Bees to pollinate crops the old-fashioned way, for instance.
“It’s beautiful, Nicky.” Amanda sat between us. We’d devoured our dinner and were lazing around the campfire.
Our once mighty stacks of wood were fast diminishing, but they’d last until bed.
I tossed twigs into the flames. “What will people make of it when they settle here?” “They wouldn’t ruin a place like this.”
I snorted. “You should see Cardiff.” I’d seen photos of home in the old days, before the disposal dumps and treatment plants and the litter of modern civilization had improved the terrain. Still, the picturesque old smelters remained, some of them, as ruins.
I moved closer to the fire, watching my handsome midshipman’s face as he chatted with Amanda. Odd feelings stirred, recalling Jason, eons past. I shivered, wrenched myself back to reality. “Have you camped out with a friend before, Derek?”
He laughed. “On the rooftops of Upper New York?”
We stared into the firelight.
After a time he said to the flames, “I’ve never had a friend before, Mr. Seafort.”
I didn’t know how to answer. In Cardiff I had companions my own age. Together, we ran in the streets and got into mischief. Father, vigilant about my own behavior, grudgingly accepted my choice of associates. Jason and I were especially close, until the football riot of ‘90.
The silence stretched.
“Mr. Seafort, I want you to know.” Derek’s voice was shy. “This was the best day of my whole life.”
I could think of nothing to say. Not knowing what else to do, I reached out and patted his shoulder.
After a while Amanda yawned, and I found myself doing the same. “A long flight. I’m ready for bed.” I stood, and Amanda gathered her blanket.
An awkward moment. Amanda and I took a step toward the larger tent but stopped, embarrassed. Derek pretended not to notice. Hunching closer to the fire he peeled off his shut in its warmth. I tugged Amanda’s hand, gesturing toward our tent. On impulse, she let go my fingers, crossed to Derek.
She leaned over him and kissed him on the cheek. In the flickering light I saw him blush right up to the roots of his hair. “G’night.” He fled to his tent.
Smiling, I followed Amanda into our own shelter. We began taking off our clothes, poking and jostling each other in the closeness. I shivered when my skin touched the cold foam mattress. Amanda crawled in beside me.
Perhaps it was the first night in the exotic wildness of Western Continent. Aroused as never before, I tried to possess Amanda absolutely. My fingers and tongue roamed, caressing, probing, stroking, taking her warmth and making it mine.
I sucked greedily at her juices, her feverish hands guiding me gently. When at last I entered her it was as if I had become whole, our bodies thrusting desperately for fulfillment in simultaneous passion.
When it was over I lay drained of everything, feeling her heartbeat subside slowly against my ear. We rested, but again and again in the night we were like wild animals, coming alive to the frenzy of youth and desire. When morning came at last I slept in Amanda’s arms, peaceful, comforted, sated.
Whole.
It was never so fine again. Perhaps the newness was gone; perhaps some subtle tides failed to mesh. In the stillness of the nights we came together, loving, tender, eager to satisfy.
What we gave each other was good, and pleasing. But the first night remained a loving memory, never equaled.
Derek surely knew what we were experiencing. At least he must have heard Amanda cry out. But during the daytime we were a warm and friendly threesome, enjoying each other’s company, relaxing together. Only when dark fell did the two of us shyly retreat to our haven while Derek crawled into his solitary cot.
A dawn came when, Amanda’s head resting lightly on my shoulder, I woke with sadness, knowing our togetherness was drawing to a close. Amanda stirred in her sleep. As quietly as I could I slipped out of bed, gathered my clothes and crept out of the tent.
It was bitter cold; I threw some sticks on the embers and was at last rewarded with a sputtering flame. I fed it until it provided some warmth. I put a cup of coffee in the micro and when it heated, I held it between my two hands inhaling its vapor.
Restless, I wandered beyond the edge of the campsite toward the lightening sky, found a place to sit at the crest of a hill looking down into the valley below. Sipping my blessedly hot coffee I watched a moody yellow sun hoist itself over the peaks opposite, casting roseate hues on the bleak gray of dawn. The fog in the valley below began to lift. Across the glen, an eleven-hundred-foot waterfall threw itself endlessly over the cliff into the waiting valley.
Never had I seen a place so magnificent. Dawn brightened into day. Below, a smaller falls became visible as the night mists evaporated. The greens, yellows, and blues of the foliage brightened into their daytime splendor.
I had to leave this peaceful planet, and with it, Amanda. I must sail on to Detour, return briefly to Hope Nation to board passengers, then endure the long dreary voyage home to face an unforgiving Admiralty at Lunapolis. I knew they’d never give me command again. I knew I would never again come to this place. I knew I would lose Amanda to light-years of forgetfulness.