The Anomaly Volume Three: Into the Unknowable
Chapter 2

Copyright© 2014 by Bradley Stoke

Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 2 - The voyage of the Space Ship Intrepid is approaching its end. Will the nature of the Anomaly at last reveal itself? This is a question of paramount importance to Vashti and Beatrice, and in which there is no greater stake. For Captain Kerensky, the success of the mission is measured more by the well-being of the Intrepid's crew and passengers. Whereas Paul remains blissfully ignorant and unaware of almost everything around him and expects to play no part in the success of the mission.

Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Ma/Ma   Gay   Lesbian   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Hermaphrodite   Science Fiction   Group Sex   Interracial   Size   Nudism   Science fiction adult story, sci-fi adult story, science-fiction sex story, sci-fi sex story

The Sahara Desert - 3723 C.E.

The hazy spectre of a camel caravan could be glimpsed far in the distance through the haze that shimmered in the intense heat. The sparse vegetation on the gravel and sand was scrubby and succulent. There were few places on Earth as remote as this.

And that, of course, was what attracted Vikram, Rao, Sandhya and Dorothy to this region of the planet. It wasn't the first time that Vikram and Sandhya had visited a desert: that was pretty much all there was on the Solar System's satellites and most particularly Triton, the most popular tourist spot in Neptune's orbit. However, neither Rao nor Dorothy had seen a desert before and so it was an attractive destination for the two pairs of newlyweds.

The two couples wouldn't describe their visit to planet Earth as mere tourism, of course. They would claim that their voyage so far from family and friends in the outer reaches of the planetary Solar System was the opportunity to honour the sacred sites and monuments of their faith. Although most such sites were in India, and most particularly in the subcontinent's south, any place naturally conducive to spiritual contemplation was a spiritual home for a Hindu. And so, for forty days and nights, accompanied by only their mobile home and all its luxuries, they were holidaying in the parched desert somewhere to the east of Timbuktu.

Few other tourists chose to venture out under the vast open skies of the Sahara Desert, especially on foot and unprotected, but the two couples wished to experience the true isolation of the Earth's greatest desert. If the honeymooning couples were to see a Tuareg cross the desert on the back of the camel, it was unlikely that he or she was any more African by birth than they were. Few of the actual natives ever cared to wander far from the pleasantly air-conditioned astrodomes that sheltered the desert communities with all the paraphernalia of thirty-eighth century life. The only kind of person likely to wander so far afield, particularly on such an unreliable and uncomfortable form of transport as a camel, would be a tourist. There was a high chance that such a tourist might be a Tuareg who'd traversed the immensity of interplanetary space to visit the ancestral home. More Tuareg now lived in Neptune orbit, most particularly in the Adrar n Fughas colony, than had ever lived at any one time in the Sahara Desert.

Nevertheless, even well away from the Timbuktu astrodome and their air-conditioned caravan, the two young couples were still relatively cool and refreshed courtesy of the loose but fully engineered smart fabrics that enveloped them from head to toe. Only their faces and hands were visible. In their home colony of Sadhu, of course, none of them would dream of concealing their bodies in such a way. The lingam and yoni were sacred and it was spiritually impure to hide them. Rao and Vikram were especially proud of their lingam, which were as well enhanced as that of any of their compatriots. Dorothy's and Sandhya's yoni were also enhanced but in a very different way. When they weren't out in the harsh open air, the four lovers would remove all covering from the sacred groins and indeed from anywhere else.

So varied was the Hindu religion, now spread over the vast extent of the Solar System, that most other adherents, even those who recognised Vishnu's precedence in the holy pantheon, had very different notions to those of the Sadhu colonists regarding the most appropriate way to dress. When in India, even in Varanasi or the sacred temples, the four tourists had become accustomed to covering the sacred lingam and yoni: however odd and uncomfortable it might seem to be. But it would be foolish to be unclothed in the desert, even though they were less than five kilometres from their mobile home.

The couples were searching for a place to shelter in the open plain where they could rest and share a spicy meal with chapattis and rice that their accompanying serving robot was carrying for them. The desert wasn't the best place to find a tree or an overhanging rock and they were increasingly resigned to the prospect of having to shelter under a parasol on the cushions that another robot was carrying.

It was Rao who first saw the curious orange cloud that shimmered and swirled only a hundred metres ahead of where the couples were walking. It could have been anything. A dust storm. A swarm of insects. Even a mirage. It had no discernable shape and behaved with no apparent purpose. If it had been blown up by the wind, this would have been strange enough. It was a very still day and the meteorological reports gave no indication that anything other than the mildest breeze could be expected. This cloud had a similar ethereal glow to that of domestic nanobots before they settled down to their household chores.

Dorothy had her own opinions of what they were watching as the honeymooners stood transfixed by the sight. "I'm sure it's an Apparition," she said, referring to the strange phenomena that had been regularly reported on the news in recent months.

"It looks too amorphous somehow to be an apparition," remarked Vikram. "Aren't they supposed to be a lot more visually stimulating than just a swirl of orange dust?"

"The gods move in mysterious ways," remarked Dorothy, who was the most devout Hindu in the company and saw evidence of divine intervention in everything. She was of the opinion that the Apparitions were partial reincarnations that hadn't yet reached a stable state of repose.

"They might do," commented her husband, who despite his faith tended to the opinion that natural events had natural causes. "But all we can see is a cloud of luminescent particles. It could be anything. It might be nothing more than radioactive dust left over from the nuclear wars of the twenty-third century."

"Or even from the twenty-ninth," remarked Sandhya, who was so sceptical of supernatural events that she might as well have been a Buddhist.

The cloud of particles then behaved in a way that was very unusual for a swirl of sand or even radioactive dust. They suddenly consolidated as one and blew at speed towards the four tourists. The particles swarmed around the two couples for less than ten seconds but it was more than long enough to be truly alarming. Some dust even seeped through the tourists' cloaks under which they wore no underwear. While the four men and women brushed and flicked away at the swarm, hoping that there'd be no stings or burns, the two robots who accompanied them stood curiously impassive and made no attempt to intervene.

And then, just as suddenly as it began, the swarm of particles swished away leaving no trace of their presence on the tourists' bodies and gathered together at their original location a hundred metres away.

"You still don't think that was an Apparition?" remarked Dorothy who pulled down her hood and ran long black fingers through her cascading, slightly reddish, brown hair.

Rao shook his own equally long jet-black hair and pulled his hood back over his head. "More likely some kind of flying ant."

"They didn't look much like ants to me," remarked Vikram, as he shook his cloak in the hope that there were none of these peculiar particles still sticking to his skin.

Sandhya pressed her fingers to the indigo skin of her cheeks. "Did anyone else feel a funny kind of burning?" she asked. "Not hot so much. A bit like a tingle. But burning all the same."

"Yeah," said Vikram. "It must be this weird desert heat."

"I'm sure it was an apparition," said Dorothy adamantly. "What else could it be?"

"Whatever it was," said Rao, pointing at the place where the particles had only moments before been gathered but had now vanished, "perhaps it had something to do with that woman there."

"And she's naked!" exclaimed Dorothy. "Perhaps she's a believer."

"Or very stupid," remarked Rao. "Only an idiot would go around naked in the midday sun."

"Or a mad dog," remarked Sandhya.

"Well, whatever she is," said Vikram, "she's not a dog. Though whether she's mad, I can't tell from here."

The four tourists walked towards the recumbent woman whose appearance, as they steadily approached, seemed increasingly strange with every step. The peculiar thing was that what she resembled the most was a colonist from Sadhu. She had dark brown skin and long black hair, which suggested that she shared the tourists' genetic ancestry in the Indian subcontinent. She was a woman in all the most obvious ways and one like Dorothy and Sandhya who had benefited from genetically-induced breast enhancement. Nevertheless, she was also very muscular, rather like Rao and Vikram, and in one particular aspect appeared not to be a woman at all.

Rao and Vikram were rightly proud of their lingams. Even on Sadhu, they were considered well-endowed. But here was a woman who not only had a lingam where a yoni might normally be found, but one who shared with the two husbands, a lingam of proud dimensions.

She was outspread on the gravel and dirt, her penis flopping over a thigh and her bosom high above her chest and off the ground. When the two couples were near enough to examine her face, they could see that it was most definitely feminine but, in keeping with her muscularity and her unusual asset, she could be best described as handsome rather than beautiful. Her eyes were closed, but her face had a peaceful, even peaceable, expression. Despite this, it was obviously not a good policy for her to remain exposed to the hot sun of the barren Sahara Desert.

Dorothy touched the woman gently on her shoulder. There was no response, although her skin was blisteringly hot to the touch as was only to be expected in the tremendous heat.

"What do we do?" asked Vikram anxiously.

"We can't just leave her here," said Sandhya adamantly.

"Perhaps she prefers being here," said Rao without conviction. "Wouldn't it be better to leave her? And why do you think she's here, anyway?"

"Maybe she has something to do with that weird orange cloud," said Dorothy.

"How did she even get here?" wondered Vikram. "I can't see any vehicle. She can't have just been walking across the desert by herself, can she?"

"Maybe that's precisely what she was doing," said Rao.

"It hardly matters how or why she came to be here," said Sandhya impatiently. "What we can't do is leave her here. If she doesn't die from the heat of the sun, she'll be dead from the cold of the night."

"I guess we'll have to take her back to the caravan," Rao sighed. "The robots should be able to carry her."

And so it was that rather than enjoying a picnic under the sun, the two honeymooning couples walked back to their mobile home while the reclining body of the mysterious woman hovered above the two robots who had to abandon the intended feast to the vultures. The blankets that would have served to protect the two couples from the desert's rough ground were now employed to shelter the woman from the burning sun.

The woman still hadn't roused when the party at last reached their mobile home which rested beside one of the few palm trees that dotted the open plain. The robots laid her out on the spare bed in the couple's shared en suite bedroom and she sprawled unconscious with the same beatific expression on her face while the two couples went about the normal business of their interrupted day.

 
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