Pandora Post #23

Title: Pandora



Part Twenty-Three: Planning for Future Use



Notes: This is the next part of a spin-off story of a series I posted on Literotica (titled Bonded, as Carizabeth) and the subject matter is m/m sci fi. Dirty yummy R-rated sci-fi in this one. Plot wise we’re getting really close to some major ups ‘n downs. I’ll work my tail off in September to keep you satisfied:)

Happy Labor Day!





***









“You’ll just feel a little pinch…”

“That is not a little pinch,” Garrett said through gritted teeth. “That’s a big fucking pinch inside of my skull.”

“I offered to put you out,” Dr. Reynaud reminded him as she attached the optic nerve to his new left eye. “We could stop with this one for today, you know. You could do the other one tomorrow, Garrett.”

“Once is enough,” he groaned, “just finish it fast.”

“One more minute,” Dr. Reynaud promised. Garrett felt the forceps move to his right socket, heard the scrape of metal on metal and then felt the cool dampness of his new eye being inserted into his head. There was another sharp pinch, the slithering sensation of tubes withdrawing and then a damp cloth was wiping at his cheeks.

“A little seepage,” Dr. Reynaud murmured, “but overall I think it went really well.” Once she was done she put a mask over Garrett’s eyes. “No using these until I’m sure the transfer has settled. You have to stay here in recovery for six hours. Once the mask comes off you should expect light sensitivity to be a problem for a few days, and remember that the color of the irises will change a bit.”

“Six hours?”

“Six hours,” Dr. Reynaud affirmed before walking away.

“Lovely.” Garrett kept his face neutral until Rickie was gone, then sighed. Six hours. It wasn’t that he hadn’t expected that, but Jonah was still at work and Cody was playing at a friend’s new house “outside”, so Garrett was alone. Which meant he’d be bored. Yeah, he had holos and books he could listen to, but nothing was so entertaining these days as his guys.

Ah, well. Time for some preemptive personal psychotherapy. Garrett opened up his journal, which he’d grabbed off of the bedside table before being brought to the infirmary.

“Ready to record?” the cartoon voice boomed.

“Ready.”

“Journal record number forty-four, recording.”

“So, I now have the attention span of a six year old,” Garrett told his journal. “I blame Jonah completely. Two weeks of living with him and Cody and anyone would be ready for the next great thing after fifteen minutes. Cody is exhausting and don’t ever let anyone tell you differently. He’s also great, don’t get me wrong, but I have no idea how Jonah is raising him on his own. Then again, when the village rejects you, what can you do but go on?” He stopped for a second, considering how he wanted to record the next part. Pissy and annoyed was definitely an option, but that wasn’t how Garrett wanted to immortalize himself. “It’s finally their turn to get a house Outside. Cody’s really excited about it; they went looking at their options on Jonah’s last day off. I didn’t go with them. It’s not like I could offer an opinion on wherever they’re going to be living, I was blind at the time. They both wanted me to go anyway, though…

“They want me, and I love them, but I can’t stay here,” Garrett murmured, feeling the bone-deep ache of melancholy settle into him. “I just can’t. This place isn’t me. The entertainment is minimal and insipid, the luxuries are practically nonexistent and there aren’t very many options for enlightening personal discourse outside of holo films. There’s no university here, there are very few options for continuing education, there’s no real way to travel except by leaving the fucking planet, and that’s not advised more than twice a year due to ‘potential health risks’ for naturals. And it’s not like Jonah and I could go anywhere without Cody.

“Actually, you know what I really want? I just want to freeze things right now. With all of us living together on the ship, no pressure to integrate into Pandoran society, all of us healthy—you know, mostly—and my family safe. Now is great. Now is…it’s almost perfect.” It’s so close to perfect.

Garrett rubbed his shoulder absently. He had a vague suspicion that if Wyl was here he would be punching Garrett’s arm right now and giving him advice that he didn’t want to hear but that still had value. Fuck, but Garrett missed him. Wyl and Robbie and his dad and Claudia. Everyone.

“Hey, doll.”

Garrett immediately shut off the recorder, turning towards the source of the voice. “Who’s that?”

“Who do you think, doll?”

Garrett smiled despite himself. Nothing lifted you out of the blues like a snarky teenager. “Tamara Carson, I presume.”

“Yeah.” Her tone was swollen with the sullenness of someone who had no desire to be doing what she was doing, but did it nonetheless.

“And you’re here to…what, insult me into feeling better?”

The girl blew out an exasperated sigh. “No. I have to do mandatory community service and I could either do it on ship in the infirmary or at the kindergarten out in the Box. And I hate it out there.”

“In the city?”

“It’s not a city,” Tamara scoffed, “it’s a fucking block. And Pandora City is a stupid name for a capitol anyway.”

“Yeah, I hear you,” Garrett said noncommittally. “Why do you have mandatory community service? Did you break into another ship?”

The silence provided its own answer. “What, again? Really?”

“It’s only the second time I’ve ever been caught!” Tamara replied hotly, coming a little closer. Garrett heard the sound of a chair scraping across the floor. “I’ve broken into dozens of ships without anyone knowing. You just got lucky that one time.”

“Lucky?” Garrett arched a pale, barely-there eyebrow. “You were breaking into my ship in the middle of a room filled with thousands of people. And I don’t care how good your friends are at spotting, which by the way they weren’t, nobody is going to ignore a large group of loitering teenagers who are trying to look innocent.”

“Yeah, well…maybe. I was in a bad mood that night.”

“I could tell,” Garrett said, “but being in a mood is no excuse for doing sloppy work. I take it that you got caught this last time?”

“Yeah.” The words seemed to pour out of her suddenly. Garrett wondered if it was easier to speak to him because he was still technically blind and couldn’t meet her eyes, or if it was just because he was taking the time to listen. “I would never mess with one of the regular runners because I know the pilots need those to be solid all the time, but I’m so fucking bored in school here and my dad is always busy anyway and I already knew I could break into your ship, so the only other private vessel I could find was Senator Dowd’s. I got past her first couple layers of security and made it all the way into the ship but then her thermal sensor ratted me out. She and my dad had been having dinner over some kind of planning meeting and the security officers brought me right to them and I thought my dad was going to lose it. They’re thinking about expanding into a new area,” Tamara added casually. “I bet my dad wants to name it Carsonville, because then he’d have left something behind that would last. He wants Pandora to be his legacy.”

Garrett couldn’t help snorting a little.

“I know, some legacy, right? I told him he should have another kid if he wants someone to carry his name for a couple centuries, and then he told me that I was enough and why would I think that and blah blah blah, but it’s true! He always wanted his kid to go into the military. Know what a natural can’t do? Go into the military.” Garrett heard a low thump, like something being kicked. “We also can’t become exploratory scientists, medical doctors, government pilots or even colonists for any place other than this rock. We can’t become professional athletes because our bodies can’t take the training and competition. We can’t learn deepwater diving or mining or spend too much time in a weightless atmosphere. We can’t do anything cool. Everything about us sucks.”

Well, that was a low pronouncement if ever he’d heard one. “When I was a kid I was put into a mental hospital for a while,” Garrett said casually. “One of the other kids there was a natural. He hadn’t done anything stupid to himself like I had, he was just depressed, and we got to know each other while I was there. He was incredibly smart, a lot smarter than me, which I say with all due modesty makes him a genius.

“I kept up with him afterwards. He ended up getting hired by the government to be a covert operative in the central system, searching out slavers who were selling and transporting people to the Fringe. Slavers like targeting naturals, even though they don’t live as long under rough working conditions, because naturals kind of slip through the cracks, you know? A lot of them are ashamed of their condition so they tend to be reclusive, or work out of their homes. A lot of them don’t have families. It makes them much easier targets than the average Federation citizen. They’re much less likely to be missed, and less likely to be searched for once they are missed. The last time Rory and I spoke he was retiring after a very long and satisfying career helping thousands of people.”

“So he was like a Federation spy?” There was a note of interest in Tamara’s voice.

“Yep. He was totally innocuous looking, you know? Usually he played up the “poor little me” natural thing so he could lure people in, and then once they fell for it, they never got away. Rory was an amazing guy. He could break into almost anywhere, he was a master of disguise, he was a trained pilot and a sniper and he could make explosives out of anything—”

“They taught him how to do all that?” Tamara broke in.

“Most of it. Some of it he picked up living on the Fringe for over a decade. Pandora,” Garrett waved one hand around as though to encompass their current situation, “is on the Fringe but not really in the Fringe, if you take my meaning. Only one small colony with a highly specialized population? Not a good place to set up a smuggler’s den, not when the weather is so damn bad all the time. But there are other places out here that are crawling with pirates and smugglers and body snatchers and slavers and a whole host of perversions that I’m sure you’d rather not hear about.”

“No, you can tell me!”

“No, seriously, you don’t want to know, you won’t sleep for a week,” Garrett promised her. “How about I tell you how to beat a thermal sensor instead?”

“I already know about reflective blankets,” Tamara sighed. “It was a tight fit getting into her ship as it was, I would just have torn a blanket up.”

“Next time use thermal paint.”

“Isn’t that toxic?”

“It isn’t when applied over a bodysuit,” Garrett replied. “You won’t be able to make a proper reflective suit out here, but I know for a fact that the science lab has gallons of that paint stored away. Spray it on over some tight-fitting gear and add a facemask once you get on board. As long as you’re in and out in less than five minutes, most thermal systems won’t pick up the heat of your breath.”

“Cool.” The chair scootched forward a little more. “What else?”

They kept talking until Jonah showed up hours later. He was apparently just in time to hear Garrett detailing to Tamara how to jury-rig a personal antigrav unit out of an old ship’s compressor and a plastic sheet.

“That’s more’n a little dangerous though, isn’t it?” Jonah commented as Garrett stopped for breath. He and Tamara both made faint noises of surprise.

“Homemade antigrav units are always dangerous,” Garrett said after a moment, “but that doesn’t mean they can’t be useful sometimes. I made this one when I was fifteen. I threw it off of a building and it hovered for more than three minutes before the motor gave out.”

“Were you shootin’ for a three minute trial?”

“Five,” Garrett confessed with a smile.

“Lucky you weren’t wearing it, then,” Jonah said, coming over and sitting down on Garrett’s bed. “I got permission from Rickie to spring you a little early, if you want to head home now.”

Garrett paused, hearing Tamara sigh. “Yes, I do want to head home. Tamara, let me know when you have your next shift here, okay? I’ll tell you five different ways to build a flamethrower.”

“Cool. Um, so, bye.” Overly tall boots clomped away quickly.

Jonah chuckled and ran his hands down Garrett’s arms. “You’re kinda a bad influence on her, you know.”

“I’m a creative influence,” Garrett corrected, standing up and leaning into Jonah’s embrace. “She needs an outlet for her intelligence and creativity or she’s going to go crazy cooped up here.”

“Sensin’ a kindred spirit?” Jonah suggested lightly, but Garrett could feel him tense up. Garrett chose to change the subject.

“How long before I can rejoin the ranks of the sighted?”

“’Nother half an hour or so,” Jonah said. “It’ll be just us tonight, though. Cody’s stayin’ over at a friend’s house. Our new neighbors have a kid in his class.”

Garrett suddenly felt chilled. “You found a place you want to take, then.”

“It’s a nice little berth. Three bedroom, two bathrooms, all hooked into Pandora’s grid…it’s really close to the park, and the playground.”

“Oh, the playground.” That was one place that Garrett had visited, although he’d been blind for all of it. He’d pushed Cody on the swing for a while before Jonah had convinced him to take a turn. It was old fashioned equipment, deliberately squeaky and quaint. “I’m sure Cody loves that.” Shit, shit, shit.

“Yeah.” After a moment Jonah placed a kiss on Garrett’s temple, then backed away. “C’mon, let’s make our way back home. I’ll make you dinner.”

“I’ll be able to see in half an hour, I might make you dinner instead.”

“After all the warnin’s you’ve given me about your cookin’? Thanks but no thanks, darlin’, I’d rather do the honors tonight.”

“Probably smart,” Garrett agreed.

They walked slowly back to Jonah’s apartment. It was nice not having to use the wheelchair in public, and Garrett never felt insecure when he was holding on to Jonah’s arm. Once they were in the apartment Garrett took over their motion and started pulling Jonah towards the bedroom.

“I thought you were hungry,” his lover protested with a laugh.

“I am, but not for food. How long until the bandage comes off?” Garrett asked eagerly.

“Twenty minutes.”

“I can make twenty minutes fly by if I’m giving you a blowjob.”

“Fuck, Garrett,” Jonah muttered, grabbing him and pulling him back so that their chests were flush. “You…”

“Don’t you want me not to fret?’ Garrett offered, running one of his agile hands down Jonah’s chest and over the crotch of his jeans, cupping the growing hardness there. “Don’t you want me nice and relaxed?”

“More likely to be relaxin’ for me than for you, darlin’.”

“I can come from blowing you,” Garrett promised him. “I want to come that way. I want you to lie down and let me play with you and jerk you and suck you and make you feel perfect.”

“It’s always perfect with you,” Jonah confessed. “Never felt anything like it.”

Garrett pulled his mind away from the obvious love in Jonah’s voice, from the dangerous commitment it hinted of, and back to sex. “We haven’t christened this hall yet, have we…”

“Not in the hall,” Jonah replied firmly, keeping Garrett from going to his knees. “With my luck I’ll fall over and hit my head, or Cody will suddenly come home or somethin’.”

“How about the couch, then?” Garrett said. For some reason he wasn’t anxious to go back to the intimacy that was Jonah’s—their—bed, not yet.

“It is closer,” Jonah mused.

“A valid consideration, so the couch wins.” A few seconds later he had Jonah sitting, and a second after that he was sinking down, sliding his body over his lover’s as he dropped to his knees. Jonah moved restlessly, his fingers working their way again and again through Garrett’s short hair as Garrett pushed Jonah’s legs apart. He undid Jonah’s fly and freed his erection, leaned forward and hovered over the tip for a long moment, unmoving, just breathing moist, hot breaths over the head. God, Jonah smelled so good, like musk and sweat and warmth. Pursing his lips, Garrett placed a gentle kiss on the head, then trailed his mouth down the shaft until his lips brushed Jonah’s sac.

“You have no idea what lookin’ at you like this does to me,” Jonah husked. “Garrett, you look…” He trailed off into a groan of frustration as Garrett took him in one warm hand and stroked him, softly at first, gradually quickening. “Take me in,” he whispered.

Garrett didn’t reply, just smiled and flicked his tongue out, tasting his lover, lapping up the wetness that gathered at the tip of Jonah’s cock. Just before Jonah started to beg Garrett opened his mouth and inched down Jonah’s length, cataloguing every millimeter of it with lips and tongue. When he couldn’t see what he was doing, he relied on every other sense so much. Garrett had played around with sensory deprivation, of course, but it was different knowing that you couldn’t look. Knowing that he had no recourse was an incredible turn on, even though technically he probably could use his new eyes now.

Garrett sucked Jonah slowly, opening his throat on the down strokes to take him all the way in and licking his way back up before his lips crested at the head. He fondled Jonah’s balls, rolling and tugging and pulling them down when Jonah got too close, and the whole time he didn’t lay a hand on himself. The only touch Garrett got was Jonah’s knees pressed against his shoulders and his hands, his big, warm hands, tracing over the curves of Garrett’s head, moving with him, not forcing him down or deeper or faster but just taking everything he had to offer and cherishing it. It felt amazing, being held like that, and that was why when Garrett felt Jonah’s breathing really pick up the pace and felt the fluttering that meant his lover was coming start in his abdomen, he let his own iron control go and tightened his abdomen and groin and came, without touching himself, right into the scrubs he’d been forced to put on in the infirmary. A second later Jonah followed, filling Garrett’s mouth with his seed. Garrett heard his name as a long, drawn-out groan, and he swallowed and smiled and pulled away just far enough to lay his head against Jonah’s thigh.

“Holy shit.”

“I like being able to provoke that reaction,” Garrett informed Jonah a little muzzily.

“Did you—”

“Yes.”

“How?”

Garrett shrugged. “Practice. Motivation. You being you. Take your pick.”

“You’re a man of many talents.”

“I am,” Garrett agreed with a smile. “Hey, has it been twenty minutes?”

“Nearly,” Jonah replied after a moment. “Get up here.” He pulled Garrett up onto his lap and it didn’t matter that he was sticky and probably smelly and soon to be uncomfortable, at the moment it was absolutely perfect.

The video com beeped. “New message,” Jonah commented as he stroked up and down Garrett’s back.

“For you or for me?” They had started routing all of Garrett’s incoming calls over here a week ago.

“Looks like it’s for you. From Paradise.”

Garrett snuggled closer. “Does it say from who?”

“From Miles.”

“From my dad?” Garrett pulled back a little. “That’s strange. He never sends me messages. They either come through Claudia or we talk directly.”

“Want me to play it?”

“Sure.” Jonah shifted, and a moment later the message began.

“Hey, Gare.” It was Miles, and he sounded tired but also really, really…god, what was that? “I want to get back to Claudia before she wakes up so I only have time for a short message. Claudia went into labor last night, and an hour ago we delivered your new little sister. This is Renee,” and there was that tone again, and now Garrett recognized it. It was the tone that meant love. “Renee Emmanuelle. She’s seven pounds two ounces, eighteen inches long and cries fit to wake the dead, and she’s the newest member of our family that can’t wait to see you in person. We’re looking forward to your return, son. Claudia sends her love. I’ll call again once I can get all the family together.” The beep indicated that the message was over.

“Oh,” Garrett whispered. “Oh.” He turned towards Jonah. “Is she beautiful?”

“You can look for yourself,” Jonah said, and his voice was very soft. “It’s been twenty minutes.” He reached behind Garrett’s head and pull the mask’s adhesions loose, then slowly withdrew it away from Garrett’s face. The lights were low but Garrett was still cautious opening his eyes all the way. Blurriness slowly resolved as he blinked. The first face Garrett sought out was Jonah’s, seeking reassurance even though he wasn’t sure why.

“Do they look all right?”

“They’re violet,” Jonah murmured, framing Garrett’s face with his hands. “Like a newborn’s eyes.” He kissed Garrett gently. “You’re perfect. Incredible.”

“I missed seeing you,” Garrett confessed.

“Missed seein’ you too, darlin’.” Jonah kissed him again, then turned towards the vid screen. “Go on and take a look at your family.”

Garrett turned and saw the final still frame of his father’s message. Miles looked tired, but he was smiling down at the baby cradled in his arms. The baby’s eyes were turned towards the camera though, and Garrett could see that they were violet too, wide open and staring in that blankly curious way that babies had. Renee had black hair that stuck up in every direction, and apart from that she was pink and chubby and very much an infant. His little sister.

“She is beautiful,” Garrett said. He stared a little longer at the still. “He looks happy, doesn’t he?”

“Your dad? Yeah, darlin’. Why wouldn’t he be?”

“Were you happy?” Garrett asked, turning to look at his lover. “When you got to hold Cody, despite everything?”

“The first time I picked him up changed me,” Jonah said seriously. “I knew what he was, knew the problems, but holdin’ him…there’s no better feeling in the world than holding your child for the first time, knowin’ they’re yours. It’s scary as hell, but it’s amazing too.”

“It must be,” Garrett said, glancing back at the picture. There was so much possibility in a baby, all future and hope and nothing to look back on with regret. He shuddered, suddenly getting a taste of that fear Jonah had mentioned, and that his father had to be feeling even now. So much opportunity that could go in so many different ways…amazing, but scary as hell.

“It must be.”