Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 {Author's Note: This is another Nomad story, not unlike JoaTMoN.  Which is
to say that though there is quite a lot of 'Meat Piston Action", it's a
flavor, rather than the main course.  There's also relatively little kink
like BDSM, Rape, Pedo, and so forth.  Therefore, if you're looking for a
quick stroker, I have plenty of those, but this ain't it.  However, if
you're into post-cataclysm near future hard science fiction, read on, there
should probably be more than enough eroticism to titilate you as well.)

   Cochi (m Solo NS}

   The Caldereños were cutting closer every day.  The town Elders say they
aren't worried, but today the cleared strip was nearer than yesterday, and
every day since I noticed it.  I dared not fly closer, up the thermals over
the foothills of the great Valles volcano.  Even without my telescope, I
could see the circling dots of their fighters, and carriers flying up, and
down.

   I locked the controls, and looked anyway.  Focusing on one to see what
was clamped underneath, they look like wingless libelulas, it's legs
gripping a long thin section I can't see well enough to identify down to
the end of the cleared track.  The engine just vibrates too much to hold it
steady.  Another returns empty, turbulence buffeted me so I had to take
over the controls again before I stalled.

   I dove instead, to pick up speed, and banked back toward town.  Along
the Rio, I looked south to my workshop, and something just past it.  "Que
es?" Dust, like a devil, but too straight from the trail settling behind it
in the afternoon calm.  No spring winds to fight against, I checked my
fuel, and passed over my little strip to check it out.  I wanted to use my
scope, but kept my hands on the control bars, and waited just to be safe.

   "A la Verga!" it looked like a Tank!  Following the edge of the river
basin, just outside the treeline of the Bosque'.  I hoped I was out of
range, and banked back before getting any closer.  Locking the controls
again, I twisted, careful not to throw off the balance, and accidentally
roll to aim my scope.

   Maybe an Armored Car, definitely wheels kicking up the dust, and no
visible cannon barrels.  Is that a turret?  On top, a circle about the size
of a hatch with some long flat thing level along the roof.  Getting
smaller, and smaller, I unlock the controls to prepare for landing...

   Cia (Fm+ NS)

   I came to a low building, with a straight dirt road to nowhere in front,
and long low ridge behind it.  Too straight, and level to be a natural
formation, it broke in the middle where the river flowed through, but I
could see nothing through the high shallow slope from this angle.  I cut
the engine, stopped, and stood up though the now open hatch with a spare
tee shirt.

   I waved it, "Hello?  I am unarmed." The afternoon air was calm, but this
is at least close to the settled dust cloud kicked up by the small plane
I'd seen driving up.

   "Buenos Tardes," he turned from closing one of the large doors. 
Corrugated metal, like the rest of the structure, it was otherwise the low
flat roofed box shape I had gotten used to around the region.  "What brings
you herre?" He rolled the last 'r' slightly, and looked like the common mix
of Spanish with local tribes.

   "Huh," I climbed out, and dropped the hatch, "Just passing through," and
walked down the front slope, "Is there a town, or city nearby where I can
trade for some supplies?"

   "Jus over the dam," he waved at the bank, "What have you to trade?"

   "Not much goods," I shrugged, and hopped down, "But I was hoping to work
for fuel."

   "What do you do?" He was mostly looking Thao, my truck over.

   "Well, I was an engineer in the war," he looked back, excited, "But I
can fix lots of things, or do heavy lifting?"

   "You know aircraft," he grinned, "Aeronautics?"

   I laughed, "I was a Combat Engineer," I shook my head, "Not the same
thing."

   "You designed weapons?" he guessed.

   I kept shaking my head, "I destroyed them.  Combat Engineering was the
field for EOD," he looked at me blankly, "Explosive Ordinance Disposal.  I
disabled Bombs, but I'd love to look at your plane." I guessed this was a
hanger, for a drone, or whatever it was I saw.  The vehicle identification
database struck out, didn't even come up with any partial matches, more
narrow than fixed wing aircraft meaning it was unique, more recent than the
last update, or probably both.

   He practically skipped back to the door, and I thankfully stepped out of
the dry sun.  Blinking in the relative dark, he pulled the door behind me.
"These is Dyami." he waved proudly, and walked past me to rest his hand on
the tail.  A strangely shaped short duct, I saw 4 blades inside, and went
around to look in.

   "Counter-rotating?" I guessed from the reverse pitch, and the fact that
the 2 pairs weren't at right angles to each other.

   "Jeah!" it didn't quite sound like a Y, or G sound, but somewhere in
between, "They cancel each other's torque so they don't make me roll, or
yaw in the air." I blinked, amazed, and closed my drying mouth.

   It's just that he didn't really look like who you would expect to hear
such aircraft specific technical terms come from, so conversationally.  Not
in a racial way, nor the fact that he was obviously a back country native
of the desert.

   "Uh," I cleared my throat, "You have any water?" He did, a large bottle
of at least 5 gallons on a stand that let it tip over into a clean looking
fired clay bowl.  The distraction gave me time to re-evaluate his age, or
at least try to.  Maybe he shaved, but even then, he looked at most in his
mid-teens.  "HahH!" I sucked the spare drops from my lips, "How old Are
you?"

   "Oh!" he laughed, "almost twenty." I just blinked and took another sip.

   "You made this plane," I turned back to 'Dyami.'

   "Jeah!" He grinned exited, "All by myself.  The others wone help me,
they think it is dangerous."

   Turning back, I was near the end of one wing.  "Why are they vertical
like this?" The airfoil was turned straight down, with the thin trailing
edge straight up toward the ceiling.  Large mounting plate on the side, I'd
guess 2.5' I came around to see th ael, but it looked like a bearing plate,
and din't turn but a quarter but the visible polished wear.  Some sort of
roller bearing I couln't see through the brushed, or probably sand-blasted
sheet aluminum.

   "Oh!" he came around me, and lifted it, "They tilt, but I have to hold
them level in flight." A conrol handle, inside the cockpit he had to reach
up, and lift out, looked like a motorcycle throttle, and brake cable.

   He let it swing back down, "Let me chow you." Space-frame inside, more
sheet alluminum, and tubing welded in triangles, and bent around the inner
arc of the tubular fusilage.  Fixed front gear, doesn't look like it can
even stear, wheel-barrow?  He came back from some shelves with a book.  A
children's picture-book, it had the DK logo on the cover, and opened to the
right page automatically.

   [Magic Carpet Ride:] across the top, [The Hiller Flying Platform] I
recognized the duct shape from the tail, but the grainy black, and white
photo showed it in flight, horizontal with the pilot standing on top. 
Looking back, I could see that the rear wheels were aft of the collar, and
steering vanes, like the rudder on an airboat, but arranged in a square
configuration, and a skid stood up from the top.

   "It was never successful, but I had to make one to find out the
problem." The opposite page was dominated by a cutaway drawing, and brief
block of text with labels for the numbered arrows.  "Is too stable," he
went on, "When ever you get up to speed, it straightens up and stops, so I
give it a stronger engine, and built a fusilage on top." He held up his
arms, like a cross, with the horizontal one flat for the wing.  "To VeeTOL,
I lift off, and lean foreward, to get enough airspeed to climb, and level
off.  Or, it can take off, and land like normal."

   "And you designed this," I shook my head, "By yourself?"

   He shrugged, "I put it together, mose of the parts came from the scrap
yard at the capitol."

   Genius!  I walked around, and tried to picture it.  The fuselage was
like a canoe, tube frame with some kind of plastic molded over it, but
clear so you could see right through it.  Some gauges out front, and handle
bars that swung a quarter arc when he let go of the wing to swing back
down. "So, you built it all by your self." I marveled.

   "Well, everyone in town thinks I'm nuts, so they wouldn't touch it, but
I've got a gantry winch!" He pointed up at the ridge beam.  Sure enough, a
ratcheting crank winch, right there.  The welder in the corner was covered
in dust, along with the mask tossed on the dirt floor next to it.  The tool
box looked like it's used often enough.  "I guess you fix stuff around here
too, huh?"

   "Yeah!" his grin fell, "Sorry, if there's none of that work left around
here."

   "Whatever," I shrugged, "I bet nobody's got anything like Thao!" I
pointed.

   "Oh yeah," he skipped back around the plane, "I showed you mine, now you
can show me yours!" I couldn't help laughing a little.

   "All right," I led him back out into the relentless sun, finished my
water, and screwed down the cap.  "Let me introduce you to the AUV 13E
Armadillo Engineer's Vehicle."

   "What's that?" he pointed up to the stowed boom.

   "Let me start her up, and I'll show you." I opened the back doors, and
at least it was still fairly cool inside.  He didn't seem to notice at all.
Even with his dark skin, and hair as black as mine, it was just normal to
him, I guess.  Would almost be better with at least a little humidity so
the air didn't suck the sweat right out of you.  "No, stay outside." I
turned to the side controls, and connected my suit to the pendant. 
Checking the pedals, I turned it on, and brought up the screen.

   [Initialize Control Harness] I held my arms straight out to the sides,
"What're you doing?" Then straight forward.  [Work Envelope Initialized.]

   "Let me show you," I worked the pedals to extend the boom.  On screen,
the wire frame unfolded at the elbow, and erected.  "Oh!" He looked up at
it.  I brought the effector mount down to mate it with the target in the
automatically opened tool box.  [Effector Engaged] I crossed my arms, and
used the pedals to withdraw it before unfolding them.

   Cochi (mF NS)

   "Look," She held out her arms, "See how when I do this," She moved,
"They do it too." The long arm swung out, and down in front of me.  "I'm
Sia," She held out one of the hands, "Nice to meet you."

   'Uh," I nervously reached out to grip it.  "I'm Cochi." It just shook
limply like a regular arm, though it was obviously mechanical.  The elbow
was like a ball, but split diagonally so it bent as they rotated against
each other with a soft whining sound.  The wind shifted, and I sniffed. 
"We better lock up, and head in, it's almost time for dinner.

   She gave me a ride, as soon as I had the hanger closed.  "What kind of
name is 'Sia'?" Sounded not unlike Zia, which means Sun, but I never heard
of anyone called that, and she doesn't look Indian.

   She swiveled her chair, and started driving, since I shut the back
doors. "Lao, I guess." she shrugged, and I kneeled next to her seat.  "Or
maybe it's my mom's sense of humor." She chuckled.  "She never came out and
said what she did, was doing in Laos, but I think I have it figured out. 
Whenever I asked her, about some of the stuff she used to do when I was a
kid, how she made her money, pulled some strings when we came back to the
states, she would avoid the question, or use the ufemisms.  She worked for
'The Company', as a 'Government Contractor.' Of course, it had nothing to
do with the war, across the river, never officially involving Laos.  The
big giveaway was my name, though.  'Sia,' that's C.I.A.  She was always
subtle like that."

   I didn't get it, but I was mostly checking out the vehicle.  Other then
the steering wheels, and pedals, it was all familiar, but different.  Like
the seat, in the middle, but no windshield.  Instead, the slope in front of
her bulged out in a cylinder shape, like the hatch overhead, and thick
prisms all around.  No shifter, either on the floor, or the steering wheel
axel, and some of the gauges made sense, like the digital speed, in
Kilometers, but a fuel capacity, in Liters, and Charge, in MJ, MegaJoules,
I guessed.  A lot of them, much more than even a stack of regular car
batteries by my rough estimate in my head.

   "So, how about you?" She got tired of the silence.  "What's your story?"

   "I don't know," nobody asked me, and I usually think about more
important things, like my plane, or other projects.  "Cochi is where I was
from, or Cochiti.  When the Pueblo was destroyed in the flood, I wasn't the
only survivor, but my parents, they uh, they didn't make it." That was a
long time ago.  "Any way, I went up to the capitol, with the other
refugees, but they were busy with the invasion, and I was just a kid. 
After the Chinos left, sorry."

   "No problem," she shrugged, "I'm not a big fan of the Chinese, either."

   "Well, anyway, since I was from down here, a lot of us came back, with
some farmers, and we settled on the old lake bed because it has the best
soil, and is easy to irrigate."

   "You're a pretty smart kid, huh?" She chuckled.

   "I don't know?"

   "See?" she looked over real quick, "You know when to admit your own
ignorance, that's smart."

   "I guess?"

   "Yeah," she nodded, "So why do they have you way out of town?  Not even
inside the dam.  They resent your intelligence, don't they."

   Not really much of a question.  "Well, I guess it's because of my plane,
it's 'Dangerous', and it's really better for taking off down there, with
the winds, and all."

   "This it?" She drove around a little, but it's not a big city, like the
capitol, and everyone was gathering around the Cocina house.  "You do all
your meals communally?"

   "Not really," I headed back, and tried to figure out the hatch. 
"Supper, mostly, and on Sunday, other holy days."

   "Here," she grunted, and turned the lever.  "Mm!" she sniffed.  Smelled
like Posole', again, but I'm glad she liked it.  She was welcomed, and
given a bowl.  She came to sit next to me while we ate.  "Mm, this is
really good.  Spicy!"

   I sopped some of the broth out with some bread.  "So you were in the
War?"

   "I was a non-combatant," she nodded.  "When we got back, to the states,
we lived in Virginia a while.  I enlisted, in the Navy, then went to school
on the GI Bill.  After that, I qualified as an Officer, so I switched
branches to the Marines.  Back then, women couldn't do Combat duty, but a
lot of my classmates picked EOD because it was the next best thing."

   "Not you?" I guessed from the way she said it.

   She shook her head, and swallowed.  "You never heard of Laos, I get
that, so let me tell you something about it.  During Vietnam, and for years
after, we dropped bombs all over it.  I mean, you have no idea how many are
literally all over the countryside there.  We left when I was 8, but I knew
people, saw others.  They died, all the time when some old thing blew up in
their rice paddy.  Some kids, just playing in the woods would find one, and
then, next time I saw them they were missing half a leg, or two.  It was
horrible, so when I got the chance, there was nothing I wanted to do more
than clean up shit like that." She tipped her bowl up, slurped, then back
down.  "What?" she looked around at everyone.

   They stopped talking.  Our meals together are when we get to talk, share
stories, gossip, or whatever.  At least that's what they do.  Kaisa got up,
and limped over.  One of the elders, he was wrinkled, and wracked with pain
in his joints.  "I was in 'Nam," he held out his hand, "And I am sorry for
what we've done to your country.

   She shook it, "Thank you." She smiled, "I'm only half Lao, I was born
there, but since then, I have become American."

   "I never dropped a single bomb, or flew over the country, but as an
American, I'm still sorry for what we did there." She didn't share anything
about her mother.  I'm not sure what all she ment about her working for the
'Company', but I could tell it must be something terribly shameful.

   He offered her a drink, but she sniffed it, and handed it back.  "No
offense," she wrinkled her nose, "But I don't drink."

   "None taken," he took a shot, hobbled back to his seat, and sat down.

   Cia (mF Teen IR NS)

   I offered to give him a ride home.  Turned out he slept out at his
hanger too, though I didn't see his bed.  Most of the buildings were
strange looking.  I guess I expected the square flat roofed stuccoed mud
brick buildings of the Pueblo style, since this used to be a Pueblo.  These
looked like overturned boathulls, only plastered over on one side with the
dark brown soil that's everywhere out here.  The other faced south,
slanted, and transparent to show the green of gardens inside.  Watching the
locals in my head lights, they went in, and started lighting fires to shine
out.

   "They all live in greenhouses?"

   He told me about the design, in more detain that I really needed.  It's
from up north, the Mesa, but not the Sierra Valles Caldera that loomed over
the entire area.  They had crops outside, too, looked like corn in the low
sun when we'd driven in, but now it had set, and even the glow of twilight
was fading in the west.  It was completely gone by the time we'd topped the
old dam.  I looked back, at the long squat buildings, glowing in the dark
basin.  Not very large, probably high tens, to low hundreds of people if
they all showed up for the dinner.

   "I don't have a bed for you," he looked down, shyly.

   "I do," I pointed past him, to the shelf folded next to him.  "For the
attacks, most of the civilians retreated to loved ones, or the Sierra
Sandia, so when the Chinese left, I was able to pick through an RV lot for
salvage." That's where I got the refer, and hotplate mounted over it. 
Would have been nice to get a sink, but there was nowhere to put it.

   "How long have you been living in here?"

   "Ahah!" There was the low hanger, "About, 9 years?  She's NBC shielded,
and armored up to small arms, so it's really the safest place as long as I
can keep her running." I'd just been following our tracks, there wasn't
much of a road.

   "You call her 'Thao'?"

   "It means 'Turtle' in Lao." I didn't feel like recounting all the
legends about the ghosts, and turtles of the lake.  "Khuay tou euay kheun
ma kin khao der a-a-a-a" I hummed to myself, then, "Here we are." I pulled
up by the hanger.

   I got out with him, pulled back the door, and helped him close it. 
"Uh," he looked around.

   "I'm not tired," I pulled the velcro around my wrist, "Are you?"

   "I stay up pretty late." He went back under a little shelf.  "It gets
pretty cold here at night." Yeah, the desert.  He squatted, and busied
himself lighting what looked like an Alcohol stove.

   Smelled like it too, "Where do you get your fuel?"

   "Canyon," he straightened, and I unclipped my control harness.  "AhhH!"
I stretched, knowing it would be a few minutes before I couldn't feel the
phantom limbs still pressed against my arms.  I set it on a random
workbench, and reached back to pull the sweaty shirt away from my back.

   "You wear that all the time?" He came over to check it out.

   "Mostly," I nodded, "You get used to it, I guess, but it takes so long
to put it on, adjust, and set it, if I need it, I often can't afford the
delay." He played with it, eyes squinting in the dark, then squatted under
the workbench.  He jerked, and a motor turned over.  4 stroke, sounded like
2 pistons opposed at 180 degrees.  Lights faded up, and he went back to
inspecting the frame.

   "This is like the power suits?" He bent the arm, back, and forth, and
watched the actuators.

   "It was the support frame for a Power Assisted body armor." I nodded. 
"We got them in Tehran, during the Terror War.  Our bomb suits kept getting
heavier, and heavier, and in my line of work, it's nice to be able to run
some times."

   "How do you outrun a bomb?" He looked over, and marvaled.

   I laughed, "You don't, but when you're trying to get in and disarm a
timed device, every second counts, and the old suits had us barely able to
walk." He had black eyes, so I couldn't see the pupils, but he just kept
staring at mine.  "Uh, so I stripped it down to just the arms, reversed the
linear magnetic actuators for sensing, and reprogrammed the control
processor to work with the effector arms."

   He smiled, "and you called me Smart?" He turned, and wandered off.

   "I had training." He found a rolling stool, and sat down.  The dirt
floor was packed down as flat as concrete, if not as hard.  "Chemistry,
electronics, fusing, bomb design, and so on to start.  Then, the terrorists
kept getting more sophisticated, using Cell Phones for triggering, remote
sensors for stand-off charges, slaving RPGs to automatically go off, so I
kept taking classes.  It's a complex multi discipline subject to begin
with, but then it turned into a sort of arms race between us, and the
device makers.  They were always a generation ahead, because it's our job
to react, and defend."

   "Uh huh?" He shook his head.

   "You never went to college, did you?" another head shake, "I don't have
to tell you that aeronautics is another complicated high precision skill
set, but you managed to make a unique working aircraft out of salvage parts
in a back country garage with no training?  I'd say you're a fucking
genius!"

   "Oh," he looked down, "Well thanks." His face was already a dark reddish
brown, but I bet he even blushed.

   "Come here," I walked over as he stood back up.  I reached out, and
rested my hands on his narrow hips.

   "What?" he looked down, then back up.  We're two smart, people, I
figured, and there's no good reason why the socially retarded nerdy kid
can't get the girl.  He's cute enough, and I've got needs too.

   Cochi (mF Teen IR)

   "What?" She just stared at me.  Her eyes are light brown, and locked
mine like had never happened to me before.

   She smiled, then pulled her bottom lip in between her teeth.  "You never
touched a woman before, have you?"

   Excitement jumped up my back, I barely had a chance to feel it before
she craned her neck to push her mouth into mine.  It was confusing to
start, it's not like I know much about women, and what they see in a guy,
but why me?  And I had no idea how to kiss her.  That's what we were doing,
I was sure of it, or she was doing it to me.  I can't say it felt like
much, besides the warm soft pressure of her lips on mine.

   "Here" her lips looked bigger, and redder.  I felt her hands on my arms.
"You put your hands here." She raised them to her chest, and I sure felt
that!  She felt up my arms, to my neck, and pulled my head back down to her
face.

   They were so soft, I spread my fingers to cover them, and gripped
gently. She sucked air in her nose, and opened her mouth.  I had to turn my
wrists, and grip sideways and my pants tightened.  She ran her hands down
my back, and I jumped when they closed on my bottom.  She pressed me hard
against her, and my hands slipped off, so I reached around to hug her.

   She kept pulling, and relaxing.  I felt her pants, the front against my
Verga, rubbing back and forth.  "Uh!" she sucked in a breath, and locked my
eyes again.  "Where's your bed?"

   "Qu, wh?" It was almost dreamlike, but not like any I remember ever
having, with all these weird feelings, and it was almost frightening. 
"Uh," I backed up, and tripped.  The stool,tumbled under my legs, and she
tried to hold me up.  "WUH!" She landed on me, and my chest hurt like my
lungs collapsed.  "ehh!" I tried to say 'let me get the ladder', but it
didn't come out like that.

   "Never mind," she had this weird smile, like a sneer, almost, and
brought her knees up around my legs.  She pulled my belt with both hands,
and I felt her fingers moving around down my pants.

   Cia (Fm Teen IR..)

   It wasn't love, or even lust, but I have to admit, I was needy.  A woman
can only spend so long out in the bush without some affection.  When I was
younger, I guess I was just too focused, and driven, and distracted.  That,
and all the Marines.  Especially the grunts, they just couldn't wait to get
out of uniform with the "Cute little Asian Chick."

   He wasn't like that, at all though.  In fact, his relative ignorance,
and youthful confusion at my advance was kind of cute.  Ever since the end
of the war, my libido seemed to kick into high gear, despite my supply of
rings running out.  Maybe that was the fetish, knowing that I could get
pregnant, and it helps that all these scattered small populations are
unlikely to transmit, or sustain any serious disease.  Nothing I can't
handle with the antibiotics in my medkit, anyway.

   He was small, all over.  Not that I was disappointed, I was never so
promiscuous to get bored out, and need a softball bat between his legs.  I
don't own any toys, and never got desperate enough to rig something up. 
It's just nice to feel something, anything more than my fingers down there.
He wasn't sawed off, I guess that's a plus.  More interesting than those
exposed mushroom caps that are so common.  As soon as it came out, I rolled
back the hood, and smelled it.

   It stinks, not like urine, he's not that dirty under his clothes, but
you know they don't have all that much water around here, right?  Any other
time, it would be nasty, but when I get all hot like this, I hunched over,
and sidled down his legs to get a good whiff.  "Mwahlm!" Even the taste,
salty at first, then this indescribable savory flavor.

   "Huh uh!?" I looked up, and smiled around him from the look of disbelief
on his face.  "Hohn!" He let his head fall slowly back as he moaned.  Not
really so small, short, but fairly thick.  I sucked him all the way back,
and slipped my hands down over his legs.  Pulling back, his head bulged,
and I rubbed under it with the stud in my tongue.  Hey, I was a Marine,
remember?  No way I could make it through my first tour, and not wind up in
a shop, even drunk for once, but there was no way I could sit still long
enough for a tattoo.  Turned out I'm not immune to peer pressure.

   Any way, he sure seemed to like it, so I guess I got something out of
it. Every once in a while, when I get the chance.  Fuck, I was hot, and
muggy!  I dipped a little sweat out to rub it around my own.  "Huh!" I had
to breathe, but I figured he was wet enough to move back up, pulling open
the flaps of my pants, and pushing down my shorts.  "Damn it!"

   It's impossible, every time I tried to make the interface, the pants
forced up on his lap to get in the way, but I was really in too much of a
hurry to dismount, and unlace my boots.  "Ah, Fuck!" I got up, pushed them
down to his belly, and squatted.  Getting desperate, I gripped, and aimed,
pulling back the skin to guide him in.  He reached for me, but I pushed his
hands down to my hips, and undid my shirt enough to get it over my head.

   My skin prickled, it was almost cold, but that just energized me more.
My nipples felt like they might burst, and then his hands were on me.  I
humped him, desperately.  As slow as I could manage until I got used to his
length, couldn't afford the delay of re-engaging him.  "Uh huh, yehr,
haAH!" I was just grunting now, not even trying to form it into words, but
sticking to the first language.  The animal tongue, primal, and mindless
need.  Insistent, growing in me.

   "Huh, nghH!" No, "NhHhHnN!"

   "Ah, fuck!" I thrust as fast as I could, getting a few more stabs in
before he got soft, but now my fingers were down there.  Frantically
flipping my switch, jabbing in to replace his falling dick.  "nnNHHII!"
Finally, it broke, and I shrieked uncontrollably with the low heavy pulse
vibrating through me.  I fell over in the dirt, hands still working to
sustain it.  I couldn't breathe, but it was wonderful.  Just the release I
needed.

   "Hah, huh, heh..." I caught my breath, and looked up to him.  Looking
down, puzzled, confused, but pleased.  His tail still hanging out, a drop
clinging wetly to the wrinkles closed over the tip.  I got up, tried to
brush the muddy sweat off my arm, it even stuck on one side of my breast.
"Uh," I looked around, "I don't guess you have a shower around here."

   "No," he looked down, "Sorry."

   Cochi (mF Teen IR)

   I had some water, not already mixed with coolant, and we wound up
washing each other with a cloth, and a Castile bar from a bowl that wasn't
too dirty.  It was cool, but after the heat of the day, and all that,
exertion, it was really pretty refreshing.  She went out, naked in the
starlight to rinse off her arm, leg, and the side of her chest.

   She looked incredible, in the light from the opened door.  Even just
twisting around to pour the bowl over her arm, and side, wipe the rest of
the dirt away with the cloth.  She is not so dark.  Not the pale pink of
the "white" people that used to come, and play on our lake, but her long
black hair braided down her back.

   Not so much hips, and bottom as the women I was used to seeing.  Our
bodies are nothing to hide in clothes out of shame.  We cover up outside,
for the sun, and blowing dust, but in our homes, or up at the springs, it's
all right.  She had a little tummy, not so fat to roll down, and bounce
when she moves, but a nice soft dome out front.  Underneath, the thick
curly fur to cover herself.  She walked back, kissed me again, quick, and
kept going back into the hanger.

   The heat was lifting away, and she started to shiver.  "I know one way
to warm up," she grinned when we got the door closed again.  I hooked the
ladder, I have to take it down to get the plane in and out, and even then,
I have to side it in carefully if I don't take the wings off.  I cut the
generator, but the heater warmed the loft well enough.

   I wished I had more pad for both of us, kind of.  Ok, it ment we had to
lay sideways right next to each other, and that's not so bad.  I'm used to
having it to myself, so I can spread out, but we sure warmed up fast.

   She rolled over, and her bottom rubbed on my hanging verga.  It wasn't
shrank any more, and it started to grow again in her rubbing hand.  "Here,"
she took my hand from her chest, and moved it down to touch her.  Her fur,
thinner than her hair, and curled tightly.  It was so warm between her
legs, and dry, I could feel her skin squeek on my finger tips.  "This is my
clit," Her fingers pushed one of mine, showed me how to rub it.  "eH!" She
twitched, "It's okay, just keep rubbing, yeah, like that."

   It had a skin over it, like the end of my verga, but tiny, and flatter.
It didn't get as hard, but felt kind of rubbery.  I tried pinching it
gently, and rubbing the skin back and forth.  A fraction of an inch, it was
so short, but she started breathing strangely.  Quicker, in short small
gasps while she pulled me faster, and faster.

   I could smell her, so I thought I'd try something.  I was about to do it
again.  Close to that incredible feeling, creeping up, but last time that
was the end of it, and I wasn't ready to stop yet.  Scooting back off the
mat, I gave her enough room to lay back, and climbed over her leg to smell
her.  Like she had, it was unlike anything I had before.  Not sweaty, at
all, very weak, I couldn't even be sure I could smell all of it, but it
swirled in my head like an eddy vortex, and I felt drunk.  Better than any
strong drink, I sucked it in my nose, eyes closed, until I felt it brush
her fur.

   Her fingers were back down there, pulling herself open.  "Would you like
to taste me?" I didn't have to say yes, but as soon as she said it, I did.
I was overcome with curiosity, and opened my mouth to stick out my tongue."

   "Hm?" She tasted like noting.  That I could taste, anyway, just like
licking my arm, or warm water.

   "Don't stop," her fingers ran through my hair, and I kissed her. 
Licking inside, like she had my mouth, her lower lips spread, and slipped
down the sides of my tongue.  I found her Vergita, she called a "Clit" and
she moaned from me licking it.  I had to use my fingers to slip the skin
back, so I stuck my arm under her leg to wrap around it.  I just reached
her fur, but found that if I pressed, and pulled it up, it exposed her
better, and I found a split in the bottom of it with my tongue.

   "Ah!  Yeah.  That's great." She rubbed my hair with both hands, massaged
my scalp, so I kept at it until my neck started to hurt.  She pushed me
down, to stick my tongue deep into her opening.  Not the tight tiny hole
right under her Vergita, but at the bottom.  It didn't taste like Veches at
all, but like her, her smell, which filled my nose long after it was over.
I pressed it into her Vergita, and wet her as much as I could.

   I had softened a little, with all the distraction, but she pulled me up,
and stiffened me again in her mouth.  Not very long, to finish this too
quick, but to wet me.  Then she pushed me down by the hips, and guided me
in.  To her larger hole, so hot, and wet, and wonderful.  Her fingers
gripped my bottom, moved me in her until I got the hang of it.  My bottom
started hurting, but she was holding my back, pulling at my shoulder
blades. I had to stop when I started to cramp.

   So she layed me back, and mounted me again.  This was slower, and not as
hard, but now I could feel of her chest again.  They were so hot, like
feverish heads, but so much softer.  She showed me how to touch her
nipples, "Yeah, like that, ohh, yeeaas.  UH!" She sat down, with me all the
way in her, and relaxed on top of me.  I could feel her tighten inside, and
quiver, and a twitch against my head.  Her language sounds so weird, once
she switched away from Englese.  All vowels, and rs, and h sounds.  Like
breathing so loud, and singing, but she didn't scream again.

   She panted, then started humping me again.  Faster, and faster until I
couldn't hold back, and planted my seed in her once more.  She fell next to
me, scooting me back, kissing me, and running her fingers through my hair
until I fell asleep.

   Cia (Fm BJ)

   He reached over me, then rolled away.  I felt him tense, then relax, and
heard a wet pattering on plastic.  He sighed, and started getting up. 
"Mm?" I rubbed my eyes.  It was light, but without windows, it just leaked
in under the roof where it looped up, then back down with the corrugation.
Across from the loft, a round open window had a grate over it, and a
stalled fan blade, but it was blue beyond.  A shaft slanted down to an oval
on the floor.

   I stretched, and Cochi climbed down out of sight.  Looking over the low
rail, I watched his little ass move his legs across the floor to a barrel
under a work bench, and he poured in the piss.  Skinny little kid, I didn't
bother asking myself what I'd done.  I remembered, with a little twinge of
fondness for his sweet naievetee'.  "Morning," I mumbled.  I didn't have to
pee, for once, I don't want to dehydrate myself, so I climbed down to the
water jug.

   My canister was around here somewhere, did I leave it in Thao?  I wound
up crouching under the spout to crane my head, and catch it in my mouth. 
"KrlgKrlgKrlGK!" I drank until I had to breathe, then gasped, and sucked a
little spray from my lips.  I turned, and he was standing, watching me with
that dear puzzled look.  His head even tilted a little to the side.

   "Come here," I grinned, and backed him up to the work bench.  Dust is
everywhere, it's not exactly dried in, but dry wind is more likely than
rain any way.  His hands went to my chest, but not to push me back, and he
stiffened in my hand.  I grabbed the stool, and sat down to suck up some
breakfast.  "A la VergA!" he called me "Merciless." Not so much a
complaint, I didn't have to hold him down, and he got off soon enough.  "Do
you never get tired?"

   "I caught my breath, and licked some from the corner of my mouth.  Not
much of a swallow, thin, and flavorless, but I'd depleted him a little.

   "I don't get a lot of," I chose the right word "Opportunities on the
road.  So, when I get the chance, I stock up!" He laughed.  "So," I grabbed
my caked clothes, "You wanna show me how this thing flies today?" I leaned
on the body, over the side wheel to not tip it, and pulled on my pants.

   "Yeah!" He climbed up to the loft for some clothes.

   "Can you throw me down a shirt?" It was a little long on the sleeve, but
mine got the worst of it.  Pretty coarse heavy fabric, I buttoned it enough
for some modesty, but spread the collar wide to vent.  I'm not what your
would call busty.  Maybe it's the Lao blood, mom had more than me, but I
don't own any bras, haven't seen one in my size in years, and wouldn't know
how to start fabricating one.  Besides, it's not like I'm just hanging out,
it doesn't take much to cover me decently, and the shirt was baggy enough.

   "What's this?" I held out the patch, and looked at it, upside down, and
not very straight on.

   "The patch is from Cochiti Pueblo," he shrugged, "We still have some
around."

   (Pueblo de Cochiti) I read up side down around the top, (New Mexico) and
bottom.  The middle was just what looked like a red, and blue drum on a
yellow background.

   "That's old, from the AD years." he pointed out, "Please take care of
it."

   "I promise," when he came down, dressed, I kissed him.  Getting a little
better at it, he tried.

   "Cia?" I turned at the door.  "I, uh.  I mean we, you didn't wash my
seed out of you, last night." He was looking down, turned this way, and
that while he talked, but away from me.

   I sighed, "It's okay." I think?  "I don't know, if I want to have a
baby, right now, but my Body really does."

   "But you don't," He looked up, then back down, "Are you not planning to
stay?"

   "I" ran my fingers through my hair, "Huh, I don't fucking know.  I
didn't plan on it, I mean, I wasn't exactly Thinking last night, but I
guess we should talk about it."

   "I don't want to leave these," he waved at his plane, "Behind." Stepped
over to run his hand over the wing, "But I have nothing else keeping me
here."

   "Ah." I pulled the gasket ring from the end, and started untangling my
braid over my shoulder.  "Well.  Of course you'd be more than welcome to
come along," I thought, "I know it gets pretty lonely out there by myself,
but I don't have a whole lot of room, you know?"

   Most of the rest of the conversation was coordinating the morning
launch. I helped him pick up the front wheels, which are fixed, so we could
get first the tail, then one wing, then the other out.  Then he hitched it
to his rider to tow it out to the cleared strip.  Not much scrub out here,
but it wouldn't take much of a strike to severely damage the fragile
design.

   Remarkably light.  At least there was nothing solid to hit in the air,
but I bet you could shoot it down with a well placed .22.  He took off
level, while I waited in Thao to keep out of the dust.  Then, he came
around, and pitched up to balance on the engine, and slowly settle to the
ground.

   He jumped off, and ran to me before the dust settled, and the engine
wound down.  "They stopped working on the road!" He looked exited, and
scared.

   I jumped down, "What road?" He explained they they were clearing a strip
down that ridge, pointed it out, with an old timey pull out telescope, like
a pirate's.  "I don't see anything," I noted, just trees, and a rather
straight ridge.

   "You can't," he nodded, "Except from the air, but there's usually
carrier craft running back, and forth to the Caldera."

   "The what?" I shook my head.

   "The Crater," he pointed, "At the top." Sure enough, I realized that the
low flat cone was sawed off on top, and it must be a large distant volcano.
"That's where they come from, the men from Canyon, and Jemez call them the
Calderenyos."

   "Okay?" I slid the scope shut, and handed it back, "So?"

   "So," he sighed exasperated, "We are like the same contrey,' his accent
slipped, "Canyon, Cochiti and Jemes is the capitole.  Up on the Plateau is
Santa Fe, they own the upper river, and Valles Caldera is at war with them
over it.

   "Can you take me up, and show me?" I tried to remember my Strategic
Leadership training, but I never used it.  An officer in name, I almost
never had to give anyone an order, and never had any underlings.

   "It wone carry you." He shook his head.  Kept looking up at the
mountain, over to the ridge, and back to me.  "They work on it ever day,
all year, dawn to dusk." I didn't notice yesterday, but I was distracted,
and maybe they knocked off early.

   "Hang on," I turned back to the open door, "Do you have a radio on that
thing?"

   "Who would I call?" I ignored that, and bent to open the underside bay.
Unpowered, I had to haul out the drone, and sent him back for a tool box.
"What is this?" He watched me unscrew an access plate.

   "An entry drone," I got it off, "I can attach my effector arms to make
it a robot for going into buildings for devices." The antenna screwed off
by hand after I broke it free with a crescent wrench.  "I hope I don't have
to boost the signal, but it's got a recorder." I un-threaded the leads
through the antenna port, and reattached them.  "Hang on." I had to crawl
forward to grab my rifle, and the remote controller.  A re-purposed laptop,
I unfolded the screen, and booted it.  While that was running, I stripped
the power supply, and hooked it to the bus port.

   Full charge, so I wouldn't have to strip off the drone's base, it had
the right output without a rectifier, if I could rig an adapter.  I opened
the rear cabinet for the wire stripping kit, and some crimp caps.  "We need
to attach this to the nose," I pointed up at his craft.

   "Should I lay it down?" he asked.

   "I can reach it, but can you get something to secure it?" I wiped my
forehead, this damned shirt was still too hot.  While he rummaged around, I
grabbed a bandana, wiped my face, wet it, and tied it on over my head. 
"Ah! Back to work."

   "How's this?" he ran up.

   "Perfect!" I grabbed the roll, and hopped in to back up in front of his
plane.  I left the doors open to see, and just maneuvered on battery power
rather than fire up the engine.  That ment climbing out the top hatch above
the seat.  At least I didn't leave the boom over it in the usual position
after demonstrating it yesterday.  "All right," I tore off some strips, and
stuck the various modules as securely as I could without obscuring the
lens.

   Then I jumped in, and drove away so he could take off.  Buttoning up,
I'd told him to "Fly as close to me as you can, since I don't know how much
range I can get." I extended the mast all the way, more to expose the whole
antenna than gain a couple extra feet.  My kettle boiled, so I rehydrated
some rice, and opened a jar of chile paste while I waited.  This local
stuff was good, not like I remembered, but pickled to a unique flavor I
like almost as well.

   I wished I could talk to him, or get some magnification, but this was
designed to image at close range, I was just glad it could focus that far.
I had to plug into the main computer for the processing power to compensate
for the frame shake from engine vibration, then remote phase the chip's
pixels for frame cropping to simulate magnification.  That would allow
enhancement, once I had the chance, but the image started degrading, then
faded out when he left range.

   "Fuck!" I hoped he got some good footage I could go over when he landed.
Nothing to do, but go out, and try to wave him down.  He came back, right
away, dipped, rolled, banked around, and came in for what looked like a
hurried landing.  "What's up?" I yelled, almost sliding down the front
slope.

   He just pointed, and I turned.  To the sky, dots moving, and growing
larger.  "God damn it!' I ran for the plane, "If it ain't one thing, it's
two!" I booked it for the nose, and we hauled it back in as fast as we
could.

   "I hope, hah!?' he panted, "It's just a water raid." He grunted, and we
got it inside before we even heard engines approaching.

   "They going to attack?" I looked back at Thao, but there was no room to
hide it the hanger.  I shoved the drone back in it's bay, and locked every
thing up.

   "I done know, they never do, before."

   "What's a 'Water Raid'?" I started running, past the hanger, and toward
the bank of the dam.

   "Were are you going?" He caught up, "You are abandon the vehicles?"

   "I don't know these forces, or what they got." I slowed to a walk at the
slope.  "If they have anything to take out Thao, they'll probably use it,
and you don't want to be any where nearby." I panted up to the top,
overlooking the washed out part, where the river flowed through.

   They flew in from the W/NW, the first looked like fighters, streaking
over sub-sonicly, then banking to hover, and swing toward us.  More like
F/AV Strike Fighters, from the underslung single barreled autocannon.  Not
a design I recognize, but they resemble the bastard child of a Harrier's
wings, and small A-10 Warthog in the nose.  Then, slower vehicle swept in
behind.  These looked liked rotorless skycranes fucking some crumpled metal
package like a species confused dragonfly.  All direct thrust, it vectored
in low, and sank slowly over the ridge.

   Of the dam, we were standing on, close enough for dust wash to blow over
to us.  Cochi dropped his goggles, but I could just cover my eyes.  I heard
hydraulics whine, and something touching down with at least a couple
impacts before the carrier angled off, and flew over the village.  "Well
fuck me running!"

   It stood like a giant crab, four legs, and a rigid tail rising, and
straitening like the boom arm to point right at us.  Hydraulic rams folded
out of the lower legs, and sank piles in to stabilize it.  A barrel, an
artillery cannon, at this range, it looked big enough to stick my whole arm
down.  I raised my hands, and didn't make any sudden moves.

   Another carrier flew over, to hover over the river, and drop a tube from
a massive underslung tank.  Looked like the spider's carrier, only the
bottom was all tank with a small cockpit in front of it.  'Water Raid,'
obviously.

   "I wasn't expecting them for at least another month." Cochi shouted over
the various engine roars.  "They'll be coming the rest of the season, until
the snows, unless it rains.  The other carrier finished it's swing around
the bowl, and came in to land between us, and the greenhouses.  I turned to
them, arms getting tired, but I didn't dare drop them so they would think I
was going for a weapon.

   Someone got out, reached back for a rifle, and kept it on us the whole
way up.  As if I would try anything with that cannon ready to take us out
with the muzzle blast on a miss.  "That your tank?" He pointed back to the
hanger.

   I sigh, "It's an unarmed support vehicle, yes, it's armored, but only my
personal weapons on board.  Can I put my arms down?" He switched to his
sidearm to cover us, and checked my empty holster before he nodded.  "That
your kill 'bot?" I chucked my head at the mottled green scorpion to our
left.

   "It's a self propelled autocannon, but yeah, he's with us."

   "No shit.  I just saw you drop it off, but pursuant to the Jerusalem
Convention, I hope that's not an AI controlled unit."

   He laughed, "Like that means shit any more," and reached up to his
throat mike.  "Fire one, go ahead, and wave for the nice people." He
pointed, and a hatch popped up.  A helmet appeared, and an arm to wave.

   "Pretty impressive shit," I had to admit, "What's with the crawler
legs?"

   "Mountains." He shrugged, "You're a vet." He didn't ask.

   "Let's just say I've been to Jerusalem, and it wasn't a vacation." I
nodded to the pistol, "You're keeping Active."

   "And you're not a Puebla." He tapped the patch on my breast.

   "Look," I backed up slowly, "I'm a non-combatant, and I would appreciate
it if you would stop pointing that weapon at me." I could almost ignore the
vaporizer in the corner of my eye.

   "Fine," he lowered the muzzle, but didn't put it away.  "Don't go no
where, son." He turned to Cochi.  He looked like he would piss himself, but
stopped trying to sidle away, and put his hands back up.  "So," he looked
back, "I'll make it a direct question.  Where Are You From?"

   "Laos," I sighed, "I just borrowed this shirt, and have no affiliation
with these people."

   "Merc?"

   "Just passing through."

   "Nomad?" I nodded, "Where's your tribe?"

   "Solo."

   "Hard life." I lifted my chin, and bit back a snappy retort.  "Try to
stay out of trouble, but if you can make it up the hill, we can always use
good people." He trotted off, got back in the carrier while the tanker took
off, and reeled in the dripping hose.  Then the other took off, and picked
up the crawler, which had already stowed the barrel.  The legs tucked, and
folded as they rose together, and the fighters swept in to escort them
back.

   "Mother FUCK!"

   We went back to town, as soon as I checked on Thao.  She was all right,
and I sighed with relief.  Don't let the name fool you, I'm not fond of the
inanimate object like a pet, or anything, but there's a lot of useful tech
in there it would take forever to collect, and assemble in replacement.  I
doubt I'd ever be able to replicate the NBC shielding, and it'd take me a
lifetime for the Robotics.

   Cochi's plane, and hanger were untouched as well.  They never fired a
shot, just covered us to protect their interest in harvesting water.  Cochi
elaborated on the situation, the "Rio" Grande that is, feeds Cochiti, and
any number of Pueblos I'd passed on the way up from Albuquerque.  Santa Fe
has it's own runoff from the Sangre de Cristos, and Hemez has it's own
rivers which fed into the Rio south of here.

   The Caldera was the high ground.  Great for strategic position, and they
have uncontested Air Superiority in their range, but they only have what
water collects in the crater during the winter.  They are a newer
population, but growing, and whenever the water runs out, they have to raid
nearby forces.  Santa Fe covers the upper river with SAMs, so they have to
fly down here, the closest source that isn't defended.

   They don't mind, as much.  It flows year round, and there's plenty for
everyone, but I'd kind of like it if they weren't such assholes about it.
I'm a non-combatant.  I can shoot, had to qualify like any other Marine,
but never shot at anyone, ever.  I saved lives, that was my job.

   Any way, when we got back, the town was going on like it was all normal.
Out in the fields, small, but standing with corn, or inside tending the
home gardens.  I asked around, and Jimenez was in the Cocina house.  Just
drinking a tall glass of what looked like tea, he mopped his forehead, and
didn't get up to greet us.

   I won't bore you with the whole conversation, to summarize it, I
informed him that I was leaving, and Cochi wanted to come with me.  I
would've appreciated some supplies, but he said the deal was for some work,
and I hadn't done any.  One of the old women came out, and offered us some
food for our journey.

   What the hell, those stocks were running low, and Cochi didn't appear to
keep any at his place.  Fuel would be nice, if we're going to make it far,
and she came through with some used cooking oil.  A mix of corn, and lard,
they'd poured it into sand to break down into fertilizer.  Great, I had to
melt it out, and filter it, but got a few liters, anyway.  It was a good
sized deposit, since they only mixed it in once a season.

   Then, she took us to her home, and offered us some food.  Flat bread
that isn't quite unlike tortillas, but they call it "Pan de Navajo." She
spoke bilingualy, but unfortunately, the 2 touges were Spanish, and the
tribal language they use around here.  The old Nam vet, Kaisa came back
with a rifle, some meat, and skins.  I wasn't willing to accept the Coyote,
but he had several praire dogs he'd trapped, and a jackrabbit.  He kept the
skins, and his wife boiled down the squirrels into a sort of broth.

   I thanked them, and she proudly showed me her garden.  Cochi said she
said that she had a "Surprise" for me.  My jaw dropped, tiny peppers, not
as long as my little finger.  They grow theirs outside, broad, and flat as
my hands, but she called them "Chile's de la Thai." I didn't need a
translation.  Kaisa laughed, he'd brought them back, and cultivated them,
because they're so good.

   I gave her a jar of my pickled Hatch chile paste, and told her how to
make it.  It would take days, and I didn't want to wait for tomorrow's
water raid.  Then, we had to go use what little light was left and figure
out how to haul everything.  I studied his nose loop, which was horizontal,
so it could have mated with the hitch hook on my bumper, if it wasn't far
too small.  When the light faded, we moved inside.

   Cochi started taking off the wings, with my help, and the gantry winch.
After that, he worked on mounting them to the sides, while I sat in Thao to
go over the almost forgotten footage.  I just dropped all the equipment in
back, with the tape still stuck to it.  Lucky none of it fell off. 
Plugging the memory pack into the main computer, I sat turned sideways, and
scanned past the drop off point.

   During his approach, I slowed when he actually pointed at it, and paused
on the first frame.  Wide angle, it showed the whole slope, and ridge. 
Rather straight, and flat, it sloped down toward the river, somewhere
upstream of the dry lakebed.  Moving forward, he banked to Port, which
swept the frame away, but swung past the Canyon, so I paused, and ran it
back.

   "Wow," it was like a triangular wedge, cut out of the steep cliff face,
and dammed for a large resevoir.  I zoomed, and enhanced as best as I
could, but the pixels got too big.  I couldn't help but make out low wedge
shapes, like turretless tanks sloped all the way back to the rear. 
Reminded me of a NATO design I'd seen in the vehicle identification cards,
but never in real life.  Bringing up that on the drone control unit, I
selected the silhouette, transfered it and ran the pattern recognition
software.

   I advanced the footage, he swung toward the plateau, with the Sangre
mountains in the distance, so I scanned ahead until he rolled, and turned
back to the ridge.  I checked the other screen, and there were 3 hits. 
Lowest probability was a SV103 "Stridsvagn", SWED, NATO affiliation, late
Cold War Era.  It highlited a difference in the silloette, something on top
that didn't look like a weapon.  Highest probability at an estimated 1/3
was the Rheinmetall "Panzerwagen Lenkflugkorper" 230 NATO designation
"Manticore" Misslie Tank.  A retrofit to the Swedish "S Tank" with the
cannon replaced by a rear missile assembly, and launch tube module with a
telescoping sensor mast not unlike the one in the grainy pixelated capture
image.  The middle probability hit estimated at 1/38K is a prototype
American version, dismissed because it never saw service.  By the time of
the last update, before the US government collapsed almost 8 years ago.

   Back to the onboard screen, the view was almost straight up the ridge,
with the cleared area plainly visible.  More zooming, and enhancing to the
highest possible resolution, the lowest point was almost clear, though
still full of digital grains.  Looked like some sort of construction, I
adjusted the color contrast, and the felled lumber stood out from 2 long,
large diameter tubes.  One was held nearby by some sort of crane vehicle,
similar to the artillery crawler I saw yesterday, but holding up the tube
in some sort of claw.

   The other stretched up out of frame, apparently in flanged sections held
on racks to keep it straight, and level.  "Hey, Cochi?" He stopped
tightening the straps, "Come here." He walked out to climb in.  "Take a
look at this," I turned the screen so he didn't have to look over my
shoulder.  "I think it's a pipeline, probably to pump water up to the
Caldera." By the scale, it had to be wide enough for you to slide down, I
couldn't estimate the weight of such a column, but it had to be staggering.
"Would they have enough power to pump it that far?"

   "Got me," he shrugged, "They might know up at Canyon."

   "Yeah," I picked up the portable unit, and expande to the original
image. "This the place?"

   "Yes, that's it."

   "Looks heavily defended," I unlocked the seat to turn 3/4 around, and
face rear.  "What do they do there?"

   He sighed, and thought.  "This is the main military base for Hemez. 
They make energy from the dam, mine from the exposed veins of metal, and do
some manufacture.  We send food up to them for trade for the Alcohol."

   "But they're friendly?" I hoped.

   "Yes, they defend us."

   "I don't see any airport, so they have VTOLs?" I guessed.

   He shook his head, "The Calderenyos shoot everyone down, but me, I
guess. They have missiles, and gones to shoot down anything that flies over
them." That explains the missile tanks.  "How long have they been there?"

   He took the portable, "This Canyon was not there, until the flood.  You
see the rocks?" Indeed, scattered in a fan downstream of the spillway. 
"They use this to make the dam, and the water to make power."
Hydro-electric.  Impressive within less than a decade.

   "So we can go there," I decided, "Tomorrow."

   "Ok," he got out, and I reached over to shut down.  Power getting low, I
hoped I had enough fuel for the trip, so I'd set up the filtration for
overnight.  Later, I caught up, and grabbed his hard little ass.

   Cochi (mF...)

   She was exited again.  I wished I knew what I did to turn her on like
that, so I could do it when I wanted.  For now, I just followed along, up
to the loft.  She tasted sweaty this time, and bent over me to take me in
her mouth.  I got her good, and wet, and she crawled off to let me sit up.
She stayed bent over, twisted back to reach behind her, and pull her bottom
to the side.  Under her, she held my verga to guide me into her.

   The generator was still going, so I could see she has 3 holes.  I knew
little about women's bodies, but learned quickly.  Her recto ano was over
her opening, not the same, and I felt better about it.  She encouraged me,
"Yes, faster, harder," and slapped her bottom when I pulled back.  "Ah yes.
Fuck me, fuck me Cochi!" I could do that, and I wondered why she wanted to
be spanked.  I did it, swatted her when I pulled back.  "An, hnNH!  Harder
Cochi, make me come!"

   At least my bottom did not cramp, this was much easier than on top of
her laying back.  I stopped hitting her, and held onto her waste to pull
her into me, I mean me into her as hard as I could.  Her bottom bounced,
out, and back together with each stroke.  I felt it, the good feeling
getting stronger, up my back until it burst in my head, and I pushed all
the way in.  I could feel her fingers, brushing my sacho de juevos from her
rubbing her vergita.  I softened, and pulled out, but she fell over on her
side.

   She was not talking again, moaning and grunting while her fingers
worked. One hand on her vergita, and the other behind to feel inside her. I
touched her, moved her hand out of the way to use my fingers.  She was wet,
and warm, and I rubbed her vergita with my thumb.  She started to 'come',
shaking, and twitching.  So wet, it rushed out over my other two nuckles.
"HohHhHnNH!" She held my wrist tight, "Nh, dn stop, Ahh, FUCK yhr!" She
panted, catching her breath, while her inner twitching got slower, and
softer.

   "Oh god, that was good!" She reached up for my face, and pulled me down
to kiss me.  I felt her chest, happy I was not stiffening again so soon. 
We still have so much work to do, but it was a good break.

   Cia (mF...)

   In the morning, I woke first.  His 'verga' was hard, so I took advantage
of him to wake him up.  He groaned, and rubbed my hair, but he was wet
enough, so I turned around to offer myself as breakfast.  He dove right in,
first his tongue, then adding fingers slick with spit.  He always softened
a little, going down on me, so I went back to what I was doing to keep him
up.  I had planned, as much as I thought ahead, to bring each other off
like this, but he got up, and walked on his knees around to my hot, and wet
end.

   I lifted my leg, up on his chest while he straddled the other to open up
for him.  This time, he held it, didn't miss too many times, and filled me.
"Oh, so good!" The best way to start the day, I fingered my clit, and gave
it a few swats with my fingers to wake it up.  He playfully slapped my
cheek, his other hand up on my chest, squeezing, and pinching me.  I didn't
even have to tell him, he went as hard, and deep, and fast as he was ever
able, so I gave into the pleasure, and just let it happen.

   I came fairly quickly, before him, and he kept fucking away even
throughout my orgasm.  I pushed him out, let my hip fall down to the mat,
and pulled him forward by the hips.  I don't have much up front, but enough
to squeeze around the bottom of his cock.  He was delighted, took over
holding them, so I could grab his franticly pumping ass, feel it flex, and
relax in my hands, and he tensed.

   "HUH!" He stopped, hot thick splash hitting my neck, and chest.  "Uh,
jeah!" He almost whined, and held his breath.  We climbed down, and I took
a cat bath while he pissed in the barrel.  For the ammonia, they use
everything down here, and it makes a good fetilizer with the fats from
their cooking oil soaked soil.  Mixed with fish guts, and composed plant
matter, it all goes in the soil, except the "Veches", shit, which they
discard.

   I was getting hungry, so I reconstituted some more rice, with some
leftover trout, and checked my Thai pepper marinate.  Not quite done, but
it would be a good spicy batch, I soaked out some of the juice with pinches
of rice anyway.  "How can you eat that so early?" He pulled on some pants,
then dropped down some clothes for me.

   I caught them, "What?" sorted out the pants from the shirt, "I grew up
on this breakfast!"

   "No wonder you're so little!" He joked, and started stuffing clothes in
a sachel.  The "Shortas" were too loose on my legs, but my hips held them
up.  I turned off the cooking torch, left it to cool on the stand, and
wrinsed out my empty bowl.  I drank the rinse water, out of habit, but also
because I still wasn't peeing in the morning like I was used to.  Mostly
inside Thao on the road, I was spending so much time out in the dry heat
these last few days, my hands had started darkening.

   At least the shirt was finer, but I still had to belt the pants a
centimeter, or two tighter.  I opened up the hangar door, and the left door
on the truck to get into the rear cabinet.  Strapping on the harness, it
always takes a while to adjust it for comfort.  Determined to pack up
before noon, less for the heat, than that's when they usually come for
their water raids.

   I got everything put back together early, my carbine charging in it's
mount, and the wad of duct tape discarded.  I think I got most of the
sticky off before replacing all the modules, thankfully it hardened dry to
scrape off with a knife.

   Then, I adapted the tow hitch to carry the plane.  His rider is too
slow, and short range towing it, but he loaded up the rear rack with every
drop of fuel he could, running a gravity line down to the fill cap.  I
cleaned out the topside tool box, and underside bay for as many tools as
would fit.  The arms slung over the stove, and cabinet, and the tracked
base strapped to the wall under the stowed bed.  I used the boom to lift
the nose, while Cochi hitched up.  I had to climb in, and out the top
hatch, and he piled all the clothes in the fusilage.  A tarp was wrapped
over, and around the wings to keep most of the dust out.

   And that was it, all we owned between us, he followed on the little
tractor, and we circled around the ex lake to head north.  Had to, the
terrain wouldn't let us up the slope toward what he called "La Bahada" any
other way without fording the river.  My Thao could probably do it, but the
plane would never survive.  I gave him the short range remote radio, and
told him to stay on the same channel.

   Cochi (m...)

   The water raid flew in south of us, but we were far away, and hopefully
inside the protective dome from Canyon.  The winds were behind us, catching
our dust, and kicking up some more, so they might not have seen us.  I
covered the top of my bottle, and pulled the spout out with my teeth for a
drink.  Fixing my Bandana, I slowed down to stay well back from the plane's
tail.  I did not like how low it was to the ground, and we had to stop a
few times for some tricky grades.

   She stopped again, so I let go of the throttle, and pulled out the
radio. "Whats now?"

   "Out of fuel" she called back, "I have a full charge, but with this
load, I'll be lucky to make it a full mile further."

   I held the button, "I'm driving up," and put away the radio.  The wind
died a little while ago, and I saw the hatch flip up on top.  She walked
down the front, but just sat on the tool boxes we strapped onto the front
pusher plate.

   "So what are our options?" she asked as soon as I stopped my engine.

   "I done think is much more," I looked ahead.  It was many years ago
since the last time I went up there.

   "Think you can fly it?" she nodded back over the truck.

   "I have plenty of fuel," I laughed, "But is no good idea to fly into
Canyon." They would likely shoot me down.

   "How about your tractor?" she pointed down at my quadcycle, "That should
make it."

   "You wantoo ride on the tanks?" I looked back.

   "You go ahead," she stood up, "I'll stay here with the gear, and make
sure nothing happens to your baby." She picked up the hatch, and put her
leg in.  "See if they will loan you some diesel, and be careful."

   Okay?  No use arguing, but I have no pull there.  I don't think any one
would remember me, and even if I did, I doubt I made much of an impression.
They got mad at me for asking so many questions.  They say a lot of the
technical design things are secrets, and warned me I could be charged with
Espionage.  A Spy, they said, "Only a spy ask so many question."

   I made it to the rock field, with all the stones, and boulders
everywhere, and a sign.  [Warning, Mined Area, Stick to the road.] It was
more like a trench, I had to be careful that my wheels stuck to either
side, but it went straight for the dam.  There were tracks, and holes dug
out without any dust blown in, so they must be new today.

   One of those flat ramp tanks rolled up in front of me, blocking between
to rocks even bigger then it, with chips, and holes all over them.  "HALT,
ALTO ATTENCIA!" I stopped.  It was loud, from a horn on top next to a
strange head with black eyes all around it, and a small RADAR dish.  They
made me turn off the engine, and get off, then walk to them with my hands
up, in the center of the road.  A man stuck out of the hatch, and pointed a
machinegun at me.

   "¿Qué hace usted aqu'?  What is your business here?"

   I picked English, "I need Fuel!" I shouted, "Our primary vehicle broke
down, and we are in a dangerous area.  We can trade!"

   "Trade What?" he asked.  I stopped in front of it, but it would take a
while to climb up where I could walk the ramp.  "Are you from Cochiti?"

   I looked down, pulled up the patch to show him, "Yes, yes!  I have no
food, right now, but I will bring up a very useful person if you can spare
just some Diesel."

   "How Important?" he asked, but let the machine gun swing up, and started
climbing out.

   "iMuy Imprtante!" I laughed, "You have mines here." I waved out to both
sides, "She is especialista'," what did she say, "Bomb Tech, EOD Engineer!"

   Already out, he leaned over the hatch, "Call it in." Then he closed it,
adjusted a radio on the harness he was wearing, and stood up.  "Can you
turn around, safely?"

   "I done know," I wished my quadcycle could turn around in place like I'd
seen Cia's do.

   "Hang on," he walked down, and put a hand on the front blade to hop off.
"Back in," he said into the radio, then straightened up to look back at me.
"Tell you what," the tank started it's engine, and rolled backward, "I got
a break coming to me any way, so I'll head down with you.  Drive forward,
we'll impound your vehicle for colaterale, and escort you back.

   Cia (F solo)

   I hate waiting like this.  If I could drive, or afford the energy to do
something, it would be better.  I cut the AC as soon as it was cool enough.
Then, I had to crawl back, around all the extra shit packed in for the
chemical toilet.  I hate using this thing too, but better than getting out
to dig a squat hole out in the baking heat.  "Ah, fucking Chile'!" I had to
open the hatch to let the smell out, then cycle the AC so I could breathe.
Took less energy than running the full atmospheric scrubbers.

   The portable runs on it's own power, and was at full charge, so I
unplugged it, and went over what footage I had.  This time, I expected the
water raid, and managed to get some footage from the hatch periscope on the
road.  Multi-spectrum, I wish I knew the Image Manipulation better, but the
programming helps a lot.  It can talk me through what I don't understand,
if I have the time.  I do now, so I even learned a bit.

   No matches on the Calderos' tech, just partials to research some of the
derivative designs.  I had to look up the cannon crawler just surfing
through the menus, only having a shot of it's folded legs.  "Huh!" Closest
match to anything like it was a Russian design for the Himalaya states,
like Tajikistan.  Short range, but out of class terrain capability, and
stability, since there's nothing else like it.  Or there wasn't, may be
copied by the Chinese, then captured during the invasion to reverse
engineer.  The short range explains the carrier craft, it's theorized that
the multilegged design could be lighter weight than an equivalent tracked
chassis in terms of stability.  "Hm!" Pretty much a large armored turret,
on legs, Diesel/Hydraulic hybrid, some pictures of an excavator variant.

   My proximity radar alarm kicked in.  On passive, I turned to the main
screen, and switch back to the hatch periscope.  Dead ahead, even through
the manuvering prisms, I could see the dust cloud, but the multispecrum
optics penetrated to show some kind of technical.  I'd seen them in the
Afghan/Pakistan terror war, the Army boys called the "Trophy Technicals."
Probably in the database, I was more worried about the MG turret on top,
and side mounted missile tubes at the moment.  Pretty much a Baja 500 racer
up-armored to small arms/AP blasts, and fitted with a targeting mast for
missiles, it was about as well protected as my Armadillo, much better
armed, and doing about 80.

   It skidded to a stop, and I popped hatch with my tee shirt flag.  Cochi
jumped out, and reached back for something.  A Jerry Can!  I climbed down
for the driver to meet me at the front.  "Julio Garza," he held out his
hand, "Jemez Pueblo Defensive Forces.  Your friend says you're EOD?"

   I shook, and nodded, "Used to be."

   "Is this EV complete?" He whistled through his teeth.

   "Mostly," I shrugged, and took the fuel.  "All the tech gear, I had to
gut some of the amenities, and I'm only half crew."

   "Marine, jes?" He guessed, well.

   "12th Support Division, Quantico." I nodded.

   "Urah!" he chuckled, "One-eleventh ADAB, Army National Guard.  Worked
with you guys around Khabul."

   I nodded, "We were there, Stationed out of Borque, eh?  The feebs loaned
me down to APD, so I've worked with your unit here, too."

   "Small world." He took the empty can back.

   "Big war." I finished for him.  "So, you think they're let me in?"

   "We need you," He laughed, "Both sides have been raining down ADMs to
keep us from maneuvering." Area Denial Munitions, or 'Air Dropped Mines' in
slang.  "We've got two main fields, and the road up the hill is impassible
with them.  No specialists, they're magnetic fused, so metal detectors just
set them off, and we can't get close enough to probe, and pull them."

   "AP, or AT?" Nasty!

   "Both, or dual purpose.  I'm a missile jock, but from what I heard,
they're a ground penetrating shaped charge with a booster, and
fragmentation collar.  Step on one, and it goes Bouncing Betty, but if you
drive over, they torch right through your underside armor."

   "Real nasty," I shook my head, "How about a link launch?"

   "Sausage charge?" I nodded, "We have linear det-cord, trail those over
with a rocket to clear the road, but these thing are downright smart.  It
just takes out the ones in the blast area, but they don't daisy chain to
clear the whole field."

   I had climbed back up to the hatch, and was half way down.  "I'll follow
you In," I sat down, and pulled it over me.  I kept the passive on screen
as I drove up, and sure enough, the detection domes overlapped to a carpet
out of sight on either side of the line crater.  "Holy shit!" The sigint
didn't recognize the frequency, or code, but noted they were networked,
like a battle LAN.  Each one was like a separate processor, with RFID, and
they talked to each other constantly.

   I whistled, "Who the fuck Are these guys?" I've never seen a minefield
like this, though most of my terror war experience was IEDs, and domestic
bombers.  This was the total opposite end of the tech spectrum.  I spotted
one, blown off to the side under a rock, and stopped to Image it.  All
passive, I kept going, and must have gotten to close.  A little farther
along, one sensed me, and exploded a few feet off the ground.  The muffled
thump was almost drowned out by the fragments splashing against my side
armor, so I righted closer to the centerline, and drove more carefully.

   One of those sub-craters caught my front wheel, jumping the other so I
slid into the trench, which moved me over just enough.  I sighed, and
picked back up to straddling for the tight rope drive the rest of the way.
I didn't even dare radio, no telling what kind of signal would set them
off. Temptingly bare, except the half covered rocks to boulders, through
the prisms, you couldn't see the invisible walls of lethal explosive to
either side.

   "Thought I was through with this shit," I muttered under my breath.  I
hate my job, but I still have to do it.  Just like the military, any
military.  They're necessary evils.  Wouldn't it be nice if we didn't have
to protect ourselves from mindless violent people?  Doesn't mean I have to
like it.  I hoped that 'Trophy Technical' wouldn't set any off, or could
handle the fragments.  At last, we passed through two marked boulders, and
the way ahead was clear of ground signals, except for stray domes.

   Cochi got out to recover the 4by, and followed us around the top of the
dam.  Concrete, the shallow slope up was clear of rocks, but packed earth
like the desert.  I guessed the inside wall was more vertical, and saw
shapes floating on the water.  Some sort of rafts, with radomes, and
missile launchers like robots with tubes for arms.  Pylons held tall round
topped towers with multibarreled autocannon pointed out.  Thankfully, they
didn't swivel to track us.  I didn't relax until we reached the end, and an
armored door rolled up to permit us into a garage.

   "I got to get back to my post," Julio pulled up along side as I was
getting out, then drove back out to the dam.

   8 years, since the flood itself, probably less than that since they
started work on this site.  Hard to believe they built all this so fast.

   "Hello, there!" A woman came out, in full uniform.  "I'm Commander
Albrecht, and you are?" She helped me down from stepping over the tool
boxes.

   "Cia Johanson," I shook, and let go, "Former Marine, Corps of
Engineers."

   "Welcome to my base," she smiled, and started walking, "I don't usually
come down to greet visitors, but I've been told you're just what we need
with our ADAM problem."

   "I'd like to help," she ran her hand over the side, "But I'm not
planning an indefinite stay.  Is there any chance I can do some work for
supplies kind of deal with you?"

   "What do you have in mind?" she came to the tarp shrouded package. 
"This isn't some sort of weapon, is it?"

   "Ah, no!" Cochi ran up, "I know, it looks like a missile, or something,
but it's just my airplane."

   "Completely unarmed," I added.

   "Well," she turned on her heel, "You must be the 'Cochiti Fly-boy' I
keep hearing about?"

   Blond Brass Bitch, I recognized her type immediately.  Old school, some
grey starting to tarnish her tightly pinned up golden hair.  Back when
females had to fight our way up the ranks, it made a lot of women more
controlling, ruthless, and aggressive than even the men, just to compete.

   "Uh,yeah?" He looked down nervously, and failed to notice her hand out.

   "Cochi, for short." I patted her shoulder, then stepped back before
someone shot me for it.  "Sorry, Commander.  I think we were going to talk
about a deal?"

   "Yes," she turned straight to me, rigid as a statue.  "What DID you have
in mind?"

   "Well," I thought an instant, "First I need to be briefed on the
Strategic situation, to see where I can do the most good.  Then we can
probably negotiate something in compensation.  The guy who escorted us in,
a Julio Garza?  Yeah, I didn't get his rank.  Anyway, he said you have two
major mined zones, the field I just drove through, and some sort of road?"

   "Yes," she had started walking, so I stayed a step behind, and to the
side.  "Follow me up to the Command Room, and I'll show you our 'Strategic
Situation'."

   "Keep an eye on our stuff," I told Cochi, and followed her into some
sort of lift.  It seemed to move sideways at one point, or at a diagonal, I
couldn't tell exactly by inertial cues, but she held onto the handrail, so
we did too.  It let out up the slope, but not on top, at a road overlooking
the lake, and triangular valley.  No water fall, my guess is they must have
capped it off above, and re-routed spill ways around to fill the reservoir.

   We mounted a jeep type vehicle, which drove us to a building not quite
to the tip of the valley.

   Cochi (mF...)

   "Cia!" I ran to her.  "I don't much like this place," I wispered in her
ear while she hugged me.

   "My brain hurts," she kissed me, "But now I know more about what
happened, and what the hell is going on.

   They all live in the cliffsides here, taking over the mines they dug
minerals out of for safety.  "They told me I can't fly, ever here, but I
made some friends that want to help me fix up my plane."

   "What's wrong with it?" She let me go, and followed me over to where we
had it taken apart.

   "That bomb that went off, when you were driving in.  It mostly damage
the wing, I don't think it hit anything vital, but I'm still checking every
thing." That helps a lot.  Working, or talking about it so I don't have to
think about all this rock, and soldiers all around me.

   "Is that a Vankel?" I just stared at her.  "The engine," she pointed at
where I had the faring pulled off, "It looks like a rotary." Under a thick
heavy looking plate, or firewall, right under the floor of the motorcycle
cockpit, but padded floor, I guess he just knels in it.

   "Oh yes!" I showed her, "I pulled it out of a plane in Jemez, Masda made
it." She squatted down to look under, and behind it.  "Interesting gear
box." She almost stuck her head in the duct, and moved one of the propeller
blades.

   "I had to make something to make them counter rotate." I helped her up,
"Well, the Machinist did most of the fabrication, and some of the housing
comes from a truck differential." With a PTO.

   "Can you get it flying?" I led her around the other side, "This is the
wing, I'll have to replace the whole sheet metal, but they say they have
rolled aluminum here.  I think they want to work out a deal, like one of
yours.  One of their designers came, and took a look.  He said they could
scale it down for a drone."

   "Ok," she looked up, "They're putting us up nearby, so lets grab some
stuff, and go check it out." We borrowed a dolly, took both of our bed
pads, some of the clothes, and the food.  She looked around, reached back
for her rifle, and pistol to tuck between the pads.  "I'll try to get us
out of here as soon as I can.  We're not prisoners, or anything, but I'll
need to get some fuel at least.  A lot of it would be nice, and whatever
else I can talk them out of.  In return, I have to help them clear the road
up to the plateau.  I don't know how long that will take, but when I'm
done, we should be able to take it out of here."

   "What about Santa Fe?" they might not like us doing that.

   "We'll deal with that when we get there." The guard walking with us
opened the door, gave her the key code, and walked off.  We rolled every
thing in, and she closed the door.

   "Now," she lowered her voice, "I don't know if they're listening, or
what they care about what I tell you, but they'll probably let me know."
Not a big room, the walls were rock, rough except for holes drilled through
along the faces of them.  She went over to a shelf, and sat on it.  "They
supported some of my suspicions, and I'm not sure how much is assumption on
their part, but here it is:"

   "About 10 years ago, we were at war with the Islamic countries, most of
them end in 'Stan.  I was part of that war, so I know all about it.  Also,
there was a lot of other conflicts, genocide wars in the Baltic, all over
Africa, South America, and Asia.  We got involved in a lot of those too. 
The brass upstairs kept calling them 'Atrocity Wars', and I can't really
argue with that name.

   Then, on Feb Twelfth, 2002, the Terror War ended in the largest, most
coordinated attack.  I don't know if you were watching the news, or it got
this far ahead of the collapse, but they took out the Pentagon.  5
Airliners were hijacked on the eastern seaboard, one crashed in
Pennsylvania, they shot the last one down, the other 3 got through.  It
only incapacitated central command for about 72 hours, but in that relative
moment of weakness, all our enemies saw an opportunity to strike.

   We made a lot of enemies, in the Atrocity Wars.  Not just the ones we
were fighting, but others we screwed over, or pissed off indirectly with
our meddling.  Quite a few just didn't like our 'First World, last of the
Superpowers global Judge, Jury, and Executioner' attitude.  Most of the
invasion force was China, which we kind of ticked off liberating Thibet,
but mostly because they were #2, and saw the chance to knock down #1.  Not
to mention the fact that they were the only ones with the manpower.  At one
point, I heard 1-in-4 people on Earth were Chinese.

   They didn't cause the Rio Grande flood, though.  Yeah, that part you
remember, right?  According to their Seismographs, and reports they've
gotten since then, it was started by some sort of Seismic Strike.  Someone
dropped a ground penetrating nuke up in the rockies at the exact point to
destabilize the fault line.  It might have been more than one, we just
don't know.  Communication kind of broke down after that.  This was
followed by precision missile strikes, to dams, reservoirs, and glaciers
all the way down from Colarado.  Precisely timed, they preceeded the flood
wave, and swept all obsticals out of it's path.  By the time it got down
here, they didn't even have to hit Cochiti, it was traveling so fast, and
carrying mountains worth of rubble with it.

   That's most of what I already knew, or at least suspected.  They filled
me in on a lot of the local stuff that's happened since then.  I was in
Albuquerque when the 'Chinos' showed up.  They were already evacuating, and
most of the civilians fled to what is now Sierra Sandia.  The streets of
Pourque are now pretty much Anarchy, by the way.  The invaders stuck around
just long enough to take out Kirtland, the power plants, SNL, and all other
strategic targets.  That they knew about, that is.  Somehow, they ignored
most of the stuff outside of the major cities, like Los Alamos.  You know
much about that place?"

   I nodded, "A little."

   "Home town of the A bomb, H bomb, N bomb, and they've been pretty busy
since the cold war.  I'd rate it right up there with Nellis AFB, and Cape
Canaveral, both of which where taken out.  Now, I'll give you three guesses
where that high tech shit from the water raids came from.  During the
Atrocity Wars, they were doing some pretty high energy research, as well as
robotics, and weapon design.

   Fortunately, they had a semi-dormant volcano in their back yard, so
before the river came down, they expanded up to Valles Caldera to build a
geo-thermal power plant.  During the invasion, just about everything was
packed up to there as a defensive fallback.  Now, they have more energy
than they can use, lots of metallic deposits, including radioisotopes, and
the highest technology in the region, but not enough water.  One of the
things about geothermal is you have to pump it down to where the heat is to
create steam to run their turbogenerators."

   "Oh!" I understood that.  She was running through the rest to fast to
catch most of it, but hopefully it would sink in.

   "Santa Fe is a different kind of place.  They described them as
'Militarized hippies.' All peace, love, and happiness, but in a hard world
where they have to defend it with deadly force.  Now, the Commander says
this is an exclusively defensive enplacement.  I didn't see anything
offensive yet, they might not be just blowing smoke up my ass, but there's
a lot of mine shafts in these cliffs to hide just about anything.

   Any way, it sounds like our friends up on the plateau are getting more
aggressive in their defense, because according to the Commander the mines
I'm going to start clearing tomorrow where sent by them.  They're also
being pretty stingy with the water rights, at least they don't seem to be
capable of damming off the whole river, but they've got the Rio de Santa Fe
dry year round."

   "Oh," he shrugged, "kay?" I patted his leg, and rubbed it
affectionately. Rather than try to say anything reassuring, I pulled him in
with my free hand to kiss him.  I was pretty stressed, ever since we came
here, and needed some release.  It had to be hell for him, being cooped up
underground where they would never let him fly overhead.  He was probably
worried for his baby, wounded by the mine I'd set off, and I felt a little
guilty.  At the same time, hopefuly it would give him something else to
worry about.

   He'd gotten better, at kissing.  At least an active participant now, I
felt him responding between his legs, and moved to free him.  His hand went
right to my chest, down the open front of my shirt to feel inside.  I
unbuttoned up his front, and spread the shirt to rub his firm flat chest.
Not what you would call muscular, at least I couldn't feel ribs without
pressing hard, or moving down over them to his slightly concave midriff.  I
stirred a finger tip in his navel, then felt down the thin trail of fine
hairs to the coarser curls.

   He sighed, and lay back, so I followed, kissing down his neck, and
sternum, then lapping at a tiny hard nipple.  Just 3 little hairs, I curled
around with my tongue, circling around the tiny pebble, and kissing lightly
with my lips.  He moaned, and his fully hard 'verga' bulged in my hand.  I
rolled back the skin, feeling the tip with my thumb like a joystick hat. 
Spreading the sticky drop leaking out to slick the end, and kissing down
the dip of his belly.

   He scooched up on the hard unpadded shelf to lift his knee, sideways on
his hip.  I unbuttoned my shirt, though he'd already dropped his, and
lifted his hip to slide down his pants.  A little gritty, from the dust
that must have worked it's way down the waistband on the ride out.  "pbt!"
I spat it off my lips, and dropped my own pants before swinging over to
join him.  No doubt intended to be the bed, we'd have to use both pads to
soften the low flat slab of sandstone.  I worked the pants down around my
boots, and he lifted his head to slide leg under it.

   "Hnh!" He lapped at my clit, and sucked against his lips.  I devoured
him hungrily, pulling back the skin with my lips to rub the head into my
tongue.  I felt his fingers, spreading me, and rubbing the bottom with a
tip.  He licked it, and around the already dampening hole before working it
in.  I pulled back, the skin wrapping tight over the bulging head, then
thrust it in.  Faster, I mouth fucked him while his finger prodded inside,
and he licked the cleft around my pisshole.

   "Hah!" he gasped, "Hhuha!" Cute little sounds of his pleasure
encouraging me faster, harder, deeper.  I forced it in, grunting up some of
the deep spit.  Thick, and slimy as semen, I coated him with it, then sat
up.  Pulling my thigh out from under his head, we were both wet enough for
me to throw my leg over his him, push him gently down, and grip him.  I
slapped him against me a few times before rising up to run the tip over my
clit, between my labia, and press it into me.  Still tensely tight, I
spread around his fat little shaft, felt the sheathe roll into me.  "hohH!"
He rubbed my bottom, gripped the sides of my hips, pressing his palms into
my ass.

   I lifted his knees, planted my hands on them, and brought my knees under
them.  My pants streched tight over his tummy, I stabbed him into me, then
withdrew for another thrust.  And another, full depth, bottoming out to
bump into my cervex.  But harder, as fast as I could lift myself, then come
down with my full weight.  Bashing against the end of my tunnel, over, and
over.  I rocked my hips, feeling his hairs crickle against my ass, his
short lever swing in me.  Harder, sliding back so it swung forward into the
Good spot.

   "Uh!" I grunted, and hunched forward, then back again for another swing.
"Huh, UH!" More quick deep strokes, trying to get the tricky orbital motion
to combine fucking with swinging against the back of my pubic bone.  "Aph!"
cut off before the 'uK!' My legs weakened, so I put my hands down, bent
over, slipping off of him.  He got up, spreading my cheeks to press against
my ass.  Thick warm meat along my crotch, and hair, I had to twist, and
reach under.  Guide him back where I needed him.  He fucked into me, and I
scrapped my shoulder on the cold hard rough surface.

   Then my elbows, I had to get up on my hands, but he bent over me, held
me up by my tits, gripped tight in his hands.  His chest rubbing my back,
belly wrapping over my ass.  My knees hurt, but I didn't care, enough to
stop, do anything but moan, taking it, him deep inside me.  He moaned in my
ear, caught it, then let out a shuddering grunt.  I didn't feel it, but
knew he was twitching behind me, pumping his seed out to splash on my
cervex.  I lay back down, let him fall out, but he replaced it with his
fingers.  Two, then three, fucking into me faster than he could move his
hips.  I rubbed my clit, frantically, slicked by the cumlike discharge from
my urethra.

   "Heah!" Almost, "eahHnNnhH!" I couldn't breathe, or think, just feel
myself suck hungrily at his fingers.  The double pulse from my battered
cervex, and bashed 'Gee!' spot, a couple more thick blops popping out on my
pinching fingertips.  I collapsed, twitching limply, and slowly caught my
breath.

   "A la verga!" he held up his soaked hand.  A thick oily bead on the back
of his middle knuckle.  "I didn't know a woman could cum like that too!" He
licked it off, and smacked his tongue on the roof of his mouth with a
"CLUCK!" sound.  I got up, on weak legs, and pulled a cloth out of the
stacked dolly to dry myself.

   "Ah, fuck!" I gasped, "That was fucking wonderful!' Or wonderful
fucking, I hadn't come that hard all year.  Tried to remember back, it used
to happen all the time in the war, or the months after in Abuquerque.  Of
course, the higher the stress, the greater the release.  "Thank you
sweatheart," I kissed him, then went to find the bathroom.  Oh, good, they
had a shower, plumbing, hot, AND cold.  I couldn't remember the last time.
Didn't have to ask him to join me.

   ;
   {Might have to get back on this one...}