Bikini Planet Read online

  “Yeah.”

  “Would you like a bag to carry your other new clothes? We can make one in any style you wish.”

  Norton thought about it. “I want one shaped like a violin case.”

  He’d never seen a violin case, except in the movies—and neither had he ever seen a violin—but he demonstrated what he meant.

  “Like this?” said the Algolan, and another manifestation appeared between them.

  “More like,” said Norton, gesturing with his hands, “yeah, that, only not as much, yeah, there, that way, with a kind of… yeah.”

  The alien’s creation looked close enough.

  “We need your name,” said Xenbashka Bashka Ka.

  “Wayne,” he said. And immediately wished he hadn’t. “Why do you need my name?”

  “So that we will be paid.”

  Norton had checked in as Robin Hood, but it was too late to give the Algolan another name—although not too late to give his complete one.

  “I’m Duke Wayne,” he said.

  “You’re a duke?”

  “Yeah.”

  “We are royalty.”

  “That’s nice.”

  “You must already know who we are.”

  “No.”

  “But you must.”

  “No. Why?”

  “Because you’re here to assassinate us.”

  “What?”

  “Our real name is Janesmith of Algol.”

  “Pleased to meet you.”

  “Princess Janesmith of Algol.”

  “Very pleased to meet you.” Norton wondered if he was expected to bow.

  “You must have discovered our identity.”

  “I haven’t discovered your identity. You told me who you are.”

  “We are Princess Janesmith, heir to the imperial throne of Algol.”

  “I didn’t know.”

  “Xenbashka Bashka Ka is our assumed name, but everyone on Hideaway knows who we really are.”

  “I told you, I didn’t know.”

  “We are a direct descendant of the First Empress, six hundred and fourteen generations ago. Why should we hide under a false identity? We are Princess Janesmith, next in line to the imperial crown.”

  Janesmith wasn’t a very alien name, although that was the fault of the slate. It was a female name, however, and princess was a female title. If that’s what the alien really was.

  “Why’s a princess running a clothes shop?” asked Norton.

  “If you know who we are, you already know the answer.”

  “All I know is what you’ve told me. You say you’re Princess Janesmith.”

  “We are, and therefore we’re a threat to our sister, Mary-smith, Empress of Algol. Only an aristocrat, even an alien aristocrat such as yourself, is permitted to eliminate that threat by assassinating us. Are you here to execute us, Duke Wayne?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “You’re not sure?”

  “Yeah, er, I’m sure. Sure I’m sure.”

  But Norton wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure about anything. It was a reasonable assumption that his secret mission was not to kill Princess Janesmith, alias Xenbashka Bashka Ka.

  He wouldn’t have been brought halfway across the galaxy for that—would he?

  “If you’re not going to kill us,” said Princess Janesmith, “shall we have sex together?”

  “Sex?”

  “Yes.”

  “Together?”

  “Yes.”

  “No!”

  “Why?” asked Janesmith. “Is it because we’re ugly? We think you’re very ugly, but we’ll close our eyes and imagine someone else.”

  “You’re not ugly,” said Norton, and he realised he meant it.

  Despite her blue skin and her strange appearance, the Algolan was better looking than a lot of human women. If she was a woman.

  “If we weren’t a princess,” said Janesmith, “we’d have been drowned at birth.”

  “You are, er, female, aren’t you?”

  “We are, but we don’t look very feminine because we’re deformed.”

  She looked feminine enough to Wayne Norton, and what he could see definitely wasn’t deformed.

  “But my genitals are not deformed,” the princess continued, “and they’re compatible with yours.”

  “Er… how do you know?”

  “Because of my research on male Earth persons. You’re certain you are male?”

  “Yeah. Totally. All male.”

  “And because you are an aristocrat, you can have sex with us.”

  “Can’t we, er, wait?”

  Norton kept backing away, hoping to reach the wall, then feel his way around to the exit. He moved slowly, hoping that Janesmith wouldn’t follow. But she did.

  “Why wait?” she asked.

  “Er… shouldn’t we get to know each other better?”

  “What for?”

  “Because, er, it’s nice to talk first.”

  “Is it like foreplay for you if we talk?”

  “No, I mean, er, yeah. So, er, what’s a princess like you doing on a planetoid like this?”

  “We’re trying to have sex.”

  “Have you been on Hideaway very long?”

  “Far too long.”

  “Nice place you’ve got here.”

  “It’s not nice, and it’s not ours. You think we want to be here, making impossible clothes for temperamental aliens? We’re here because we’re trapped, paying off our debts.”

  “Through gambling? You lost your shirt?”

  “We never wear a shirt. If we wanted a shirt, we could make one. As a young princess, we learned embroidery. It’s one of our three skills. It’s also our qualification for this demeaning job we were forced into after being abandoned on Hideaway. And who abandoned us here?”

  “Who?”

  “An Earth person. A male Earth person.”

  “Oh,” said Norton. “But you said you liked Earth persons, Earth people.”

  “Some Earth persons. One male Earth person in particular.”

  “Me?”

  “Not you. He was so handsome, so strong, so wonderful, so perfect.” Princess Janesmith gazed up, remembering. “Definitely not you.”

  While her eyes weren’t on him, Norton retreated two steps. There was still no trace of the wall, let alone a doorway, just more and more drifting lines of soft material. One by one, they were as light as gossamer, whatever gossamer was; together, they were almost impenetrable. He kept his arms behind him, yanking the layers of flimsy fabric aside, trying to force his way back.

  Janesmith seemed to have no problem with the stuff, simply brushing it aside as she remorselessly pursued him.

  “But he abandoned you,” said Norton.

  “He wasn’t to blame. It was another Earth person who left us here. When we find him, we’ll make full use of our second skill.”

  “What’s that?” Norton didn’t want to know the answer, but he wanted to keep Janesmith talking.

  “Death,” hissed the Algolan, baring her fangs. “We killed three of our sisters. They called us the ugly sister. Now they’re the ugly ones. Ugly corpses!”

  If Janesmith was considered ugly, then her other sisters must have been absolutely beautiful. When they were alive.

  “We should have executed Marysmith when we had the chance,” added Janesmith. “We wouldn’t be here now, slaving like a peasant. We would be Empress. Empress of Algol!”

  Janesmith flexed her claws, and her whole body seemed to ripple. There was something almost feline about her exotic features, her lithe shape, her supple movement.

  “From what you say, Algol isn’t a constitutional democracy?”

  “What?”

  “Crowns and thrones, princesses and empresses. You don’t operate the one-vote system?”

  “We have a one-vote system,” said Janesmith. “The Empress is the one with the vote.”

  “What about ‘one man, one vote?’ ”

  “On Algo
l, men are nothing. Their only purpose is for pleasure and for siring children.”

  “Oh.”

  “We’ve talked enough. You must be aroused by now.”

  “Er… no.”

  “You soon will be. Our third skill, the other royal talent we spent so long perfecting, is the art of sensual enjoyment.”

  Norton could no longer move. He was Janesmith’s helpless prisoner, entangled in a spider’s web of gauzy fabric, drugged by the exotic aromas that filled the air, trapped by her hypnotic alien eyes.

  “Now we will have sex, Duke Wayne,” she said. “That is an imperial command.”

  Princess Janesmith stepped toward him, her arms going around his shoulders, and she pulled him close. Their lips met.

  He didn’t want to, but he couldn’t resist. No longer in control of himself, Norton’s mouth opened. They kissed.

  And kissed. And kissed.

  He’d never been kissed like this. Her tongue sinuously twined around his, explored his mouth, his palate, his throat. He felt her warm breasts against his chest, while her fingers clawed up and down his spine. His passion rose, his ardour grew.

  She finally released him, licking her lips with her tongue. Her forked tongue.

  Wayne Norton watched as the Algolan princess discarded her clothes. Her strange garment began to unravel, falling apart brick by brick, revealing more and more of her blue flesh.

  He’d never seen a naked girl before, either human or alien.

  Until now, the closest he’d come had been gazing at photographs in Playboy.

  Tits and ass, that was all a centrefold would reveal. The secret heart of the female anatomy was a complete blank.

  Janesmith stood nude in front of him.

  He should have bought a bugstrap.

  Norton’s heart was racing, his mouth was dry. He had waited so long for this moment. Slowly he looked down, down her perfect blue body, until his eyes finally focused on her crotch.

  Where he saw—

  He blinked.

  Where he saw what looked like—

  It couldn’t be!

  Could it?

  Teeth!

  Two sets of tiny curved fangs waiting to devour their prey.

  Their male prey.

  He suddenly felt very dizzy. His head was spinning and he started to f-a-i-n-t…

  He’d waited forever for this moment, for Susie to strip off her T-shirt and reveal what she’d let him touch but never see. Her breasts were wonderful, everything he’d dreamed of. So shapely. So firm. So blue.

  So blue?

  Then she unzipped her jeans. The colour matched her boobs. As her denims dropped, she tucked her thumbs into the elastic of her briefs and started to slide them down.

  This would be the ultimate revelation, the forbidden zone he had neither seen nor even been allowed to touch.

  She was naked and soft, he was naked and hard.

  Susie smiled, leaning forward to kiss him. He always loved the way her tongue snaked into his mouth. That was because her tongue was forked. He’d never noticed before. And her teeth were so very sharp. Why had he never realised?

  Because this wasn’t Susie…

  She was someone else, someone different, someone alien!

  That was when he woke up.

  With a scream.

  He opened his eyes wide, discovered he was naked, and closed his eyes again.

  Not wanting to, not wanting not to, he slid his right hand down his body. He’d already lost a finger on Hideaway. Had he lost something else, something infinitely more vital?

  It was still there and he sighed with relief as he grasped it in his palm.

  Then the door blinked open and a naked girl stepped into the room.

  “Susie?” he said.

  “Shut up,” the girl said.

  She was naked but not defenceless, and she pointed her gun at him.

  “Who are you?”

  She wasn’t Susie, but at least she wasn’t blue.

  “Don’t stare at me when you’re playing with yourself!”

  He hadn’t woken up. This was still his dream. He’d stare at her if he wanted to. Which he did.

  She was good looking, of course. How could a fantasy girl be otherwise? Tall and slender, but with all the necessary curves. Her hair was red, curly, and short, in two places.

  “You’re human?” she asked, moving closer to him. “From Earth?”

  He wondered how he had got back to his room. But if he was still asleep, he might not be in his room. Where were his clothes? His new ones, his old ones, any clothes. He wouldn’t have been naked by choice because it made him feel even colder. Neither would he have chosen a null-bed, lying suspended in mid-air.

  As the girl came nearer, he covered his groin with both hands. She tapped his hands with the gun. He let go.

  “Just checking,” she said. She glanced back at the invisible doorway. “You’re my alibi. I’ve been here for an hour. Two hours. Understand?”

  She climbed onto the nullbed, straddling him, and he didn’t notice any teeth.

  “Stop staring at me!” she ordered.

  “I can’t help it.”

  “Then close your eyes.”

  If his eyes were open, then he couldn’t have been asleep. Unless he was dreaming he was awake.

  “Is this real?” he asked the naked girl above him. “It’s not a dream?”

  “I’m not a dream, I’m a nightmare. One mistake, and I’ll blow your brains out.” She touched the barrel of the gun to his groin.

  “If you’re in trouble,” Norton said, slowly, carefully, “I can help.”

  “How?”

  “I’m a police officer.”

  “Ha!”

  “I am.”

  She looked at him, really looked at him, for the first time.

  “That’s all I need,” she muttered. “One wrong word, and you’re dead. Or one wrong move. Uhhh!”

  “What?”

  “Ohhh! Keep still.”

  He was desperately trying not to move. But there was a part of him which he’d never really been able to control, a part which had never been so close to its female equivalent, a part which now he couldn’t control at all.

  “Don’t!” she warned.

  He was scared of the gun, but his other part knew no fear. When she pressed the weapon harder against him, it pressed harder against her.

  “Uhhh,” she sighed.

  “Ahhh,” he agreed.

  Her eyes gazed down into his, and it was as if she could see deep within him, down into his very soul, knew everything about him, was aware of every thought, could read every secret.

  She leaned forward, and her lips brushed lightly against his. Then she sat up again, the gun sliding away from his body as she slid even closer.

  “If we’re both going to, ohhh, die, we might as well make the most of what we’ve got left.”

  “Die?” He was already entering paradise.

  “Shhh,” she told him. “Lie back ahhhnd think of the uhhhniverse.”

  Reality or not, this was the best dream of Wayne Norton’s long life.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  “The alien’s claws were surgical instruments,” said Kiru. “It was going to cut me open, put Grawl’s pendant inside me, turn me into an android, make me a zombie!”

  “How did you get away?” he asked.

  “I dived to one side, toward the door. The alien spun around and one of its claws hit Grawl, knocking him out. Instead of stopping me, the thing went to Grawl. Because it was a doctor, I guess. So I grabbed Grawl’s gun and ran.”

  “Wow.”

  They held each other close and they kissed.

  “Don’t let them get me,” she said.

  “Never,” he said.

  They kissed again.

  By now they had introduced themselves. His name was James Bogart.

  “You’re really from Earth?” asked Kiru.

  “The twentieth century,” said James.

  �
��Where’s that?”

  “It’s in the past. You know, history and all that stuff. I was born over three hundred years ago.”

  “No,” said Kiru. He was lying. He was a man. Of course he was lying. “Humans don’t live that long.”

  “I was born in 1947,” he said. “I’ve spent most of my life, if you can call it that, in suspended animation. I was revived just a few months ago.”

  Kiru looked at him, but he was looking at himself.

  “This is the first time I’ve felt warm in three centuries.” James turned his attention to her. “You’ve finally thawed me out, Kiru.”

  “You look good for an old man. Everything still seems to work well.”

  “Seems to, yeah.”

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Nothing. Why?”

  “You keep smiling.”

  “I’ll stop,” he said. “If I can keep doing this.”

  They kissed. Again. Then they did something else again.

  Kiru was very impressed with the nullbed, it was so flexible and versatile. Hideaway certainly provided the best in guest facilities. And it had also provided her with the perfect guest.

  “How did you know his name?” asked James, after a while.

  “Whose name?” she asked.

  “Grawl.”

  “Did I say his name?”

  “You did. But he didn’t. You said he couldn’t speak.”

  “He couldn’t. He didn’t. The alien did. That’s how I knew what they were going to do to me.”

  “The alien told you Grawl’s name?”

  “Yes.”

  “And did it introduce itself?”

  “Why all these questions? Don’t you believe me?”

  “Now you’re the one asking questions.”

  “I was in terrible danger. They were going to erase my mind, take over my body.”

  “Terrible,” said James, but he was still smiling.

  He obviously didn’t believe her, he seemed to think she was here simply for his amusement.

  “I’m still in danger, James. We both are. They could find us here.”

  “Like you found me here?”

  “I told you, when I got away I made for the human levels.”

  “And you chose me.”

  “No. Yours was the first door I came to.”

  “But they chose you.”

  “Who did?”

  “Grawl and Doctor Lobster. Why you?”