When Haruna dreamt, it was of Hell.
Her faith had taught her that there were Hells without number; that there existed an infernal, hierarchical multi-verse and in it, an infinity of eternal suffering.
Paradoxically, that thought comforted her, for surely, in amongst them all, there was a Hell just for her. She imagined it as a vast plain of black basalt punctuated by distant spires of red quartzite. In her dreams, she would wander endlessly upon that plain of tortured stone, through drifting sands driven by mournful winds, under sterile, cloudless skies. It was not a Hell of pain and fire but one of inexpressible loneliness through which she would wander; lost and alone, forever.
She prayed for that Hell earnestly, every morning at dawn, before her statue of Arya Tara; the golden bodhisattva, the goddess of compassion and infinite mercy. It was the only mercy Haruna hoped for. She asked for little else.
Still kneeling before the shrine of Tara, she reached up and shut the doors, bowing as she did so. An instant later her phone rang. She saw that it was a secure encrypted line.
“Haruna Murakami.”
A voice at the other end informed her,
“ I.G.O.C.A. correspondence due to arrive at 10am.”
“I see, thank you.”
The caller was gone. She had five hours before the I.G.O.C.A. courier was due. She sat at her desk and took out a piece of thick water colour paper and an ink stone. She had fresh water already to hand and chose her favourite antique brush. The ink soon coalesced into the perfect consistency and colour; the colour of basalt. And so she composed a poem whose theme had come to her sometime between her dream of Hell and waking to the blue dawning light of Zeta Ophiuchi.
Tranquility ends
As the winds blow from the sea;
Age old afflictions
Wrack the cliff top pines and ruin
Their reckoning of the years.
*
Ursula Delmar opened her eyes and turned towards the window. She saw that the sun was already casting long bluish rays across the ebony floor. She threw back several stray locks of her long wavy blonde hair and continued to stare at the light.
She had been living in Ereshkigal for over a year now; having made the three hundred light-year trip from Earth deep in hyper-sleep. At the age of twenty-five, it had been her first interstellar journey. Although generations of engineers had made Ereshkigal's environment as Earth-like as possible she still found it difficult to get used to. The vast city orbited high above Melanchthon, the ninth planet of the star Zeta Ophiuchi. Melanchthon was a dark, jewel-like, gas giant. A 'dusky gem of a planet,' was the way her husband Kyle had described it, who now stirred in the bed beside her.
She slipped naked from between the sheets and looked down at him. She was tall and slim with glorious cascades of rich honey-blond hair reaching down to her lower back. Her luminous blue eyes traced the lines of her husband's back as he shifted slightly to bury his face deeper into his pillow. She smiled faintly and walked over to the window. She touched a control alongside it and the blinds shifted to reveal more of the view.
What she saw was a sublimely beautiful sight; the city, with it's elegant, clean lines, many lofty spires and fine towers against the backdrop of Melanchthon to the right and with the brilliant blue disk of 'Z Ophi', many times the size of Earth's sun, in the distance beyond. Ursula was lost in wonder until she heard Kyle call her name.
She turned rapidly, swinging her perfect, rose-bud crowned breasts. Running up and jumping on top of him, she plunged her fingers under the sheets, found his naked flesh and tickled him vigorously.
“Good morning honey. Happy Valentine's Day!”
*
Once Haruna was satisfied with her calligraphy, she stood up and looked at each of the characters she had drawn in turn. Beautiful. She had graduated from the I.G.O.C.A academy at the top of her class in poetry and calligraphy and had made many gifts of her work to friends and lovers over the years. She often wondered to what distant star systems some of them had travelled taking her creations with them.
A warm, gentle female voice; the voice of her phone, then informed her,
“It is now 9am Miss Murakami.”
“Thank you. Alert me again at 10am please.”
“Very well Miss Murakami.”
With one final long glance at the calligraphy she headed towards the bathroom. Shedding her black kimono and underwear along the way, she stood before the mirror and looked at her body. Long hours of yoga and training had paid handsome dividends; at twenty-eight, Haruna was athletic and powerful without having lost any of her grace and femininity. Her long, straight, black hair hung around small, pert breasts. A slender midriff, svelte hips and graceful legs completed a sublimely beautiful form.
At only 170 centimeters, she was a petite powerhouse. But pride in her body and in her obvious beauty never touched her heart. Her body was a tool, her beauty; an opalescent vapor like the mysterious swirling clouds that ringed the mighty planet of Melanchthon..
After showering, Haruna donned a light kimono of dark purple silk and proceeded to pack her case. Right on time, her phone announced,
“It is now exactly 10am Miss Murakami.”
“Yes, thank you.”
Seconds later she heard the door chime. Tapping a control on the door activated a window through which she saw a young woman carrying one of the slim black envelopes that contained official Guild correspondence. She spoke to the woman,
“Ok, swipe your card.”
The woman did so and a gap appeared at eye level. She handed the envelope to Haruna and departed. Haruna then settled down on her sofa to read. Essentially, she had to travel to an address in the city's swanky 71st district to meet a couple whose details were itemized minutely in the letter. After reading it a second time, she started planning her night's work.
*
Kyle and Ursula had spent the entire day naked in bed. Their servants had brought them numerous gourmet meals, champagne, and a succession of exotic cocktails. They had kissed and fondled, watched hours of holo-porn and traded romantic small-talk. Finally at 6pm he blindfolded her and hung a long string of antique pearls around her neck; a string so long that it touched the tiny strip of blonde hair at the apex of her pussy. She kissed him passionately and felt his cock begin to come to life as he cupped her smooth firm ass cheeks. He slid his cock into the gap between her legs but she pulled away.
“Ah no, not yet baby. I have a very special surprise for you. I've been planning it for months. A real treat for both of us. Save your...um... energy for that.”
He pinched a handful of her ass cheek and collapsed back onto the bed.
“Oh fuck baby, don't make me wait too long. I want to empty my balls deep inside you. Do you remember our first Valentine's Day, a year ago? Fuck, were you horny!”
“Oh yes! That's why I want to make this one even more special and more memorable.”
“You look after me so well sweetheart.”
She fell into his arms and soon their tongues entwined. They kissed until a chime sounded in the air above their bed.
