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From: "Elf M. Sternberg" <elf@pendorwright.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Journal Entry 224 / 01028  Contrasting Opinions (0)
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Date: Thu, 16 Apr 2009 06:10:20 -0400
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Contrasting Opinions
Aldea, Hiss 04, 1028
The alarm went off. Wailing like a banshee, it demanded Nickolai's
attention from the very first scream. He crawled along the length of the
bed, fumbled in the darkness for the gap between the bed and the
dresser, and slammed his hand down hard on the disable button. "Twenty
minutes, Nix," he growled softly before crawling into bed.

Furry stirred beside him. "Another day," she sighed, not looking up from
her pillow.

"Another fine day," Nickolai agreed, cuddling closer to her. "How're
you?"

"Fine," she murmured. He wrapped an arm around her and held her close;
she stroked his bare arm with her fingertips. "Feeling good?" she asked.

"I could be," he said, his erection already poking her buttocks. "How
about you?"

"Let me think about it," she murmured. "I might want to use this time to
get sleep."

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Hmmm " She sighed, wiggling her butt back against his hips. "No, not so
sure. Convince me otherwise?."

Nickolai grinned in the dark. He kissed the back of her neck, nuzzling
the soft fur that tufted over that one spot where the neck and back
seemed to join together. He nipped her there, softly, making her shiver.
She liked to shiver, he knew, and he loved that he could cause it so
easily, at least in the morning. It seemed to wear off as the day went
along, although he could tickle it out of her with nightfall once more.
She shivered again and squirmed against him. "Kolya " she moaned
plaintively.

His hands caressed the fur along her chest and belly, finding the hidden
nipples under the fur of her flat chest. His fingers slipped down
between her thighs to touch her lower lips; her hand covered his as if
to guide it between those lips. He knew where he was going, but her
touch thrilled him. "I love you, Furry," he whispered.

"I love you, Kolya!" she whispered back. "Please fuck me?"

"You don't even have to say please," he said, cuddling up behind her,
finding his way in the dark to her cunt from behind. She bent her legs
inwards just a little, exposing her secret places more to him, and he
slid easily into the waiting wetness of her sex. The feel of their two
bodies merging each greeted with their own groan of pleasure, Nickolai's
shaped into that single word, "Yes "

He held onto her hip with his one free arm and slowly the two of them
rocked back and forth. Nickolai nibbled softly on an offered ear. Furry
stroked his arm gently with one hand, the other also between her thighs,
stroking at her clitoris while his cock eased in and out of her,
massaging her insides, awakening her to the day. She moaned softly as
first one and then another climax rolled through her-- moderate things
not meant to shake the Earth, but reassuring to her that her world,
Nickolai, was still there.

Nickolai didn't exert too much energy. He could feel Furry's pleasures
running between them, hear her moans as she reached her second orgasm.
He felt so strong, so capable, when she came like this, with him inside
her, and when he came it was a release that came with little more than
one last gentle moan.

He cuddled her close, feeling his shrinking cock sliding out of her.
"Thank you, Furry," he said, kissing her neck once more.

"You're very welcome, my love," she said, turning around, turning him
down to the bed, kissing him gently. "I'll never get tired of wakeups
like that," she giggled, kissing his face. "Ready for the day?"

"Better now than I was before the alarm went off."

"Good. Let's get going. Mom and Dad are probably already up and going."

            *            *            *

Morrail was already halfway through his second cup of coffee when his
beloved daughter and well-chosen husband (at least in both Morrail's and
Helena's opinions) showed up at the command center tent. "Good morning,
lovebirds," Morrail chuckled.

"Good morning, Father," Furry said, giving him a gentle buff on his
cheekfur. "Any changes through the night?"

"None, I'm pleased to say," Morrail responded. "Helena is packing a
heavy shuttle for a lift to the South. Chatenni has called to report
that he has found the ruins of a city and, like all archeologists in his
position, has no idea where to begin." Nickolai nodded. Ritacha was
becoming a peculiar dig all on its own, with its own difficulties. There
were a great number of places that were sealed and protected; simple
exposure could convert much of this world's paper documentation to dust
or pulp in mere seconds. They had to be careful with each room. It was
not by any stretch of the imagination an easy task.

"Well, it's time we got on with the day," Morrail sighed. "Where's the
rest of my staff?"

There were over a dozen major digs going on all over Ritacha, and as the
senior organizer of the dig, it was Morrail's task to be aware of the
status of all of them. It wasn't his favorite task, but it was one he
did rather well. Slowly the team representatives from each major dig
site either filtered in or registered their presence on one of the
monitors overhead. "Let's start. Site: The University of Besnial."

A rather tall and rangy-looking Mephit stood. "The University Project is
proceeding well. We have completed work on the preservation of the
library, although it's estimated that only half of what was there will
ultimately be recoverable. In other places we have discovered that the
artist whose works line the auditorium was highly regarded as a minor
master of sorts and it appears that much of his work will be
recoverable. We have also recovered a treasure trove of fiction, mostly
in the student dormrooms; with their cinderblock construction and small
windows they did an excellent job of keeping the elements out. I can't
help bit wonder what the construction did for the psyches of the
students." He spread his hands out wide, apologetically. "There isn't
that much to report otherwise; we're taking the university slowly and
seriously; a school of this size represents such a treasure trove of
information that we think it better if we catalog everything first and
go through the process of preservation. We want to be able to continue
analysis even after the terraformers get here."

Morrail nodded. It was the tack he had recommended himself, although he
wasn't very happy with the pace that the University team had managed.
Nix himself had defended the team on the grounds that the school was a
huge place and that the minutiae involved in sorting and cataloging it
all were orders of magnitude different from the usual ancient
civilization dig. Morrail supposed so, but still it bothered him. He
wanted it to go faster, to provide all the answers. He wondered if he
was getting old. He almost didn't notice that Captain Omon had taken the
floor and began discussing the dig at Rico Kith. He listened intently to
the report, knowing that eventually he would have to make decisions
based on the information distributed here. Sure, it would be in their
individual reports, and Nix could always play back the entire meeting,
but he had no desire to go through with this all again. He had just one
life to live, eternal as it was, and he preferred to do the drudgery but
once and enjoy the pleasures life had to offer twice, at least.

The dig at Kimmonowal intrigued him most of all. When Co gave his
presentation, he confirmed what a few documents at Besnial had covered:
Kimmonowal was the first and primary installation of Heeram. They had
found Tream relatively easily and now they had the other AI. Nobody in
the entire mission imagined that that place had been Heeram's only
information centre, but it was probably a good place to start.

The rest of the team reported in on their own. He listened to each. The
dig at the city of Genra, Chatenni's assignment, had proven to be more
exciting than anyone had realised. There had been a third technological
culture there, one that had tried to vie with the Tsuguran and Theban
States. There wasn't even a name for the people there yet. The report
wasn't very in-depth, but it did reveal that the primary hypothesis
working at this time inside Chatenni's group was that they had been
relatively lightly hit during the first war and had instead drowned in a
lack of resources after the war. This had led to their own internal
downfall. Although it was clear that they had had the kinds of
technology evident in the other two technological cultures, its use was
neither widespread nor intensive, suggesting a nation caught deep in the
self-destructive game of catch-up. Roger, Nickolai's Pamthreat friend,
had contributed to the bulk of the working hypothesis thread of the
report.

After the reports were in, Morrail closed the meeting with his usual
thank-yous. Things were progressing along well, but it was hard to
determine what at this time constituted a break-through. Language wasn't
a barrier here; there was so much of it, including dictionaries, that
cracking it had become a matter of routine. The Theban language was
proving no more difficult than the Tsuguran; it seemed that they were
both intensely interested in one another, a factor not unusual in a
people at war, and had left behind a great many examples of translations
of each others' works.

Nickolai already read the Tsugran script with some fluency, an amazing
skill that had appeared out of nowhere, one which Morrail appreciated
greatly even as he ordered Nix to check Nickolai's urine for dangerous
nootropics. None were found. Still, Morrail wondered if Nickolai had
always had this ability to learn languages or if this was just something
that had clicked into place with later life and the growth of new
pathways. Morrail had joked to Helena that if that was the case there
was hope for himself yet.

Helena had just smiled and continued packing, preparing for their
independent trip out to a small city found on the opposite northern
continent, a place that was not generally believed to have had a very
high technological level. Still, with the kind of imperial pattern that
had evidenced itself on both Terra and early llerkin, there was no
reason to suspect that the resources of this relatively undeveloped land
had not gone unexploited by the wealthier nations, and where there were
exploitive efforts there would also be cities developing. Morrail hoped
that the environment was more to his suitability. He had labelled this
trip a 'vacation' of sorts, a time away from the rest of the team when
he and Helena could practice their art of independent exploration
without feeling like the rest of the team was constantly waiting for
their decisions.

Morrail sighed and deliberately closed down his uPADD; he had no
intention of taking this reminder of work with him on the shuttlecraft.
He grinned as he left it behind on the table. He wasn't being fair to
himself or the mission. He truly loved his job; if he didn't he would go
do something else. It was just that the number of people who were
qualified to do what he did continued to grow even as the number of
places to explore continued to shrink. And so competition for good sites
was becoming more and more fierce each and every year. He had to smile
and admit to himself that, at least this year, a new adventure had
shaped up and a whole new world with layers upon layers of history had
opened up to the explorers. Ritacha would be a resource for the next
five centuries of archaeologists, historians, and anthropologists. Not
to mention art critics and book translators.

"Nix, are we ready?"

"Helena indicates that the shuttlecraft is fully loaded and ready to go.
Enjoy your trip, Morrail. I expect to see you back in a few days, fit
and ready for action."

"Am I ever not fit and ready for action?"

"I am not one to judge that," Nix replied. "I merely report on the state
of the mission and hope that your vacation will contribute to its proper
functioning."

"Uh-huh," Morrail grunted. He pulled on his coat and pulled the
atmosphere hood over his head. The forward plastic formed itself into a
clear sheet so as not to distort his view, and he walked over to the
shuttlecraft. The rear airlock allowed him in easily and he made his way
forwards, finding Helena waiting in the pilot's chair. "Nice place," he
commented.

"The 454 is the most common shuttlecraft in the galaxy," she said with a
smile. "I am just pleased to have one at my disposal. Now sit, Morrail.
We have a short flight ahead of us."

"How short?"

"Two hours or so," she commented. "Not even enough time to get
comfortable. And all of it will have to be strapped in. Safety, my
love."

Morrail nodded, taking the left seat in the two-person 'cabin,' a space
open to the entire rear of the ship. He settled back into the chair and
watched as Helena easily took the ship up on a hyperbolic arc that would
allow Ritacha to turn underneath them. They would end up in the city of
Tareen in a matter of hours.

As long as Morrail could remember, Helena had been a competent and
careful pilot. He couldn't remember her ever flying in anything other
than the manner of a school bus driver. He knew about the restless
animal that lived underneath that teacherly exterior. He hoped to see
her sometime during this vacation. Maybe tonight.

"I'm ready to land," she mentioned to him.

"Already?" he asked.

"What do you mean, 'already?' It has been nearly two hours since we took
off. Yes, already I am preparing to land, Morrail. Are you still
strapped in?"

"I never took off the belt," he said. "You see what a good passenger I
am?"

"Some good passenger. You are also supposed to stay awake and talk to me
so that I do not fall asleep."

"Isn't that what Nix is for?" he asked with a smile.

She grinned and replied, "Nix is not so exciting as you, my love. Now
give me a moment to put this thing down. I believe I have found the
airport."

Indeed, with the tower in the distance and the widely separated
buildings, this sparse tract of land did indeed appear to be the airport
they had predicted it to be. There was little left; apparently those who
had built this place had had little interest in keeping it long. Most of
the buildings were little more than foundations and stacks of rubble.
"Maybe it was bombed in one of the wars. Or a civil action afterwards."

"Perhaps," Morrail muttered. "We could go take sensor samples and see."

"The radiation outside is not bad," Helena muttered. "Although we'll
still want helmets, this close to the equator it is almost balmy
outside. Twelve centigrade."

"Lovely," Morrail muttered. "Let's do a survey."

The city was, indeed, a desolate place. Many of the taller buildings
still survived, at least partially, the heavy mass of their steel and
concrete construction giving them longevity. "I bet those buildings
represent the imperial masters or their local lackeys," Morrail said,
pointing to them on a map. "This one looks especially heavily guarded.
Do you see the construction?"

"It is like a compound," she said. "Look how these overflight photos
reveal windows towards the inner courtyard, yet only small windows on
the outside. This could be some kind of foreign office for either the
Tsugurans or Thebans, or perhaps another party of which we are not
aware. It would appear they were very concerned with light missile
attacks."

"It also suggests that there is a lot to be found there."

"You want to go?" Helena asked, knowing the answer already.

With medium jackets, breathing masks and eyecovers, they walked out the
back airlock of the ship, immediately joined by two seccor drones,
dinosaur "D" models, which looked vaguely like Tyrannosaurus Rex but had
much heavier heads in which to pack lights, weapons, sensors, and so on.
Morrail and Helena made their way through the dust-covered town. It had
not seen snow in some time; already nuclear winter had retreated from
the equatorial region, although the arctic cold which had gripped all of
Ritacha still filtered down through the winds to chill this land. It had
also probably not seen rain. There was a thick layer of yellow dust on
everything as they made their way down streets. Morrail had his
precision camera in place. Even though the drones would record
everything, he always kept a camera with him to record exactly what he
would think was interesting. He knew that in the end the tapes the
drones had made would be gone over second by second until everything had
been digested, but he had his own reasons for keeping his own record.
"That building, Morrail. Do you see it?"

It appeared to be still intact. A heavy building that, from the outside,
appeared to be almost featureless but for a door just wide enough for
two Ritans. Stairs led up to the door, and a sign hung on the archway
over the stairs. "Nix?"

"Tsuguran, Morrail. It reads, 'Embassy of Tsugura.'"

"You were precisely right, Helena."

"And I have been wrong when?" she asked with a grin. "Many times, my
love. Come on, let us see what wonders await us within."

Bones of several combatants, killed it what appeared to be some sort of
gun battle, littered the entranceway. Morrail found the site profoundly
saddening, that in the grip of self- destruction on a planetary scale
these people had chosen a more personal, pointless battle to fight. He
shook his head and walked past them.

There were dozens of offices, each with its own marker, each familiar in
its own way. They identified rooms for commerce, travel, immigration;
offices for high officials; security systems and procedural traps. At
one point, they came across a vault and Helena marked it as something to
be checked later, in a controlled-atmosphere systemic setting.

"Another house full of treasures," Morrail grinned. "I am overwhelmed by
where to start."

"Let us leave that to the students."

"No," Morrail said. "I do want to check out one place. The high
ambassador's office. Let us look in on what kind of mel he was like."

"Are you sure it was a 'he'?" Helena asked, teasingly. She knew
perfectly well that this culture, not unlike others, was male-dominated
and that a fem in such an office was unlikely. Possible, if she read the
data correctly from the University dig site, but not at all probable.

They entered the office and looked around. It was indeed the kind of
space a male would keep. The environment radiated a kind of cold
control; this was not the office of someone who had friends. He had
useful acquaintances. "The name reads Tekop Sedui, high ambassador to
the nation of Sraudit from Tsugura." There is a date on that plaque. It
suggests a pre-first-war office. Apparently there was no trade with
these people following the first war. Maybe there was nobody here after
the first war."

"Morbid," Helena agreed. "But unlikely. I predict there were survivors.
The Tsugurans were too concerned with Tream and the Thebans, still, to
have done much about it. If they ever visited here, it was simply as
reconnaissance."

Morrail nodded. He examined the office in detail. Much of the paper was
actually still in good shape, which pleased him. He opened several
drawers of files and examined the contents briefly. The pages were
brittle but not immediately disintegrating. He hoped they would last
long enough for some students to get down here and start taking them
apart. An ambassador's suite could tell them a lot about the world
before the first nuclear war, the limited one that had sent their
society back to a primitive state that the Forcassans had worked to
repair, rebuild, and restore to some semblance of civilisation. And they
had succeeded. Unfortunately, it also appeared as if they had brought
with them the very tools of their ultimate destruction. Morrail shook
his head. All those souls, wasted; all that life, gone.

Helena picked up on his mood. "It is depressing, Morrail. I do
understand."

He grinned. "My face shows it?"

"Eh," she agreed. "And very clearly, husband. You do not return poor
papers well, either."

He smiled at her. "My students complain?"

"A little. I hear it. It is no big deal," she replied with a grin.
"There are history books here on the shelf that Nix says they do not
have at the University. They should be catalogued and put into the
general circulation. And then they should be imaged."

Morrail smiled. Document imaging and restoration was his and Helena's
prime skill as a team. Together they could coax the words out of
documents thousands of years old. It was something he loved to do, to
make the invisible visible and to make the past speak its name aloud.
"We will need students to move the material back to the main lab where
the NI scope is located."

"I have already arranged for four junior students to do a safety move,"
she said. "They will be here tomorrow."

"So much for a vacation," Morrail grunted.

"I thought you wanted to do what you enjoyed, Morrail. We will not be
asked into meetings for many weeks of these documents prove as useful as
we think. That should make you happy!"

He laughed. "Yes, I suppose it does, Helena."

In what appeared to be the residential wing of the embassy they also
found the remains of the library. Again, like the Ambassador's quarters,
there were a number of books that were not in the dig catalogue of
records and would have to be added by hand. It would take days to get
all of this stuff back to the main lab.

By the end of the day, Morrail had seen more documents than he believed
he could read in his immortal life. He was glad that he wasn't going to
be one of those who would have to go over them and actually read the
histories complete; he would get digested versions from his students
even as he and Helena produced more and more pages for them to read,
collate, and opine upon. Exhausted, he and Helena tromped back to the
shuttlecraft.

"I am taking a shower," she announced. "Would you like to join me?"

"In that tiny closet?" he asked. "Sure, why not?"

They stripped down to fur and she got into the shower ahead of him,
dialling up a temperature she knew they both enjoyed, hot and steamy.

Morrail felt his blood run a little quicker at the sight of her naked
body, even with the water streaming down her fur. The phrase, 'like a
wet rat,' meant something entirely different to those of his species,
who appreciated the sight of their own more than anyone else. He pushed
up against her in the shower and enjoyed the feeling of her wide hips
and lightly furred tail. "You feel wonderful," she sighed.

"I hope I do." He lowered his muzzle to one of her ears and whispered,
"I do not feel like being gentle tonight."

He could feel his words course through her even as she tensed up. "What
would you do to me?" she asked, softly.

"Whatever I like," he growled. "Horrible things I have not done to you
in a long time."

"I have not forgotten," she said, her voice taking on a tinge of fear.

"I think you have." He grabbed a bottle of soap from the rack just
outside the shower and spread some on his paws. He pushed the soap into
her fur, washing her down to the hide, roughly manhandling her body as
he washed away the day's exertions. He did himself at the same time,
taking care not to play too much with his own hardened cock. He was
excited as it was. "I think you need a reminder," he said as his hand
trailed between her legs and began pinching at her labia.

"What do I need to be reminded of?"

"Of the pleasures you feel when I am cruel to you, Helena."

"Are you ever cruel to me?" she asked.

He pinched her outer lip hard and she cried out in pain. "Am I cruel to
you now?" he asked.

"Yes," she gasped. "Please, Morrail, not too cruel."

"I will do what I like," he said, turning off the water after he had
finished rinsing the two of them. He turned on the fans and positioned
her in front of one of the blowers, guiding her with his hands on her
shoulders. She did not struggle but stood meekly by as he dried her off,
allowing one of the blowers behind and to his left to dry him off at the
same time. It took several minutes, but soon he was leading Helena by
the scruff of the next to the soft platform bed mounted in the back of
the shuttlecraft. It was large enough for the two of them. "Kneel," he
said. "On the floor. Right there."

Helena nodded and sank slowly to her knees. There was something in her
demeanor that Morrail enjoyed-- was it anticipation, or dread, that
seemed to radiate off every stand of fur on her beautiful body? He could
not tell, and perhaps it was really a bit of both. "Suck," he said.

"I-- I-- am not good at... "

"Do it," he said, pulling her head towards his cock with one hand behind
her ears. "Now."

She nodded and opened her mouth in anticipation. He pulled her down over
his cock, feeling the warmth of her mouth surround his erection. She
actually was rather good at giving head, but not when he was directing
her like this. He held her ears and forced her down onto his shaft,
choking her with it. "Bite me or get sick, and you will really regret
it," he growled. "Suck well. Keep your hands at your sides."

She did her best. He smiled as he watched her try to take all of him,
even as he resisted forcing himself down her throat. He wasn't that big,
but her muzzle was short even for a Markal's and together he could at
least awaken her gag reflex. He also wasn't giving her much of a chance
to overcome it, either.

"Up," he said, reaching for the web of skin at her armpit and pinching
it, twisting it, making her yelp in protest even as he shoved her onto
the bed. "Face down," he said. She lay down flat on the bed. "No," he
said, grabbing her hips and pulling her upwards. "Kneel. Face down."

"Morrail " She gasped.

"Quiet," he demanded. She fell silent, although he knew that wouldn't
last for long. "You are quite lovely," he said as he reached out and
began teasing her labia again, parting them with his fingers, sliding a
finger inside her, stroking it gently against her cervix. He was careful
with that, though; depending on how hard he did it, he could invoke
pleasure, pain, or even nausea, and the last was very definitely
something to avoid. He did bear down with two fingers against the upper
wall of her pelvic bone, making her gasp in something that wasn't quite
pleasure. "I want you to know what kind of lover I can be," he said as
he pinched her labia with the other hand, using almost bruising strength
on her. He moved his hand over her mound, pinching here, tweaking there.
She squirmed, trying to avoid his grasp, but that only made his
successes even more painful. She cried out as his hand roamed her inner
thighs, his cruel pinches becoming even moreso. And yet he could feel
her cunt getting ever more wet as he manipulated her, hurt her. She
moaned against the bed and he thought the time was right.

He got between her legs, kicking them apart with his knees, dropping her
hips down a little further than she had been just kneeling on the bed.
He grabbed the bottle of sex slip from the floor and coated his cock
with it. "You have been good, Helena. I am going to give you a gift."

"A gift?" she moaned, lifting her head.

"Yes," he said. "I am going to fuck your ass."

"No, Morrail, no, please, no " she begged. That only made him more
excited as he pressed his cock against her opening. "Morrail, please,
you promised "

He ignored her protests as he pressed. She fought back against him,
tightening her opening, trying to keep him from getting in, but he
pressed hard and she couldn't hold him back. His cock plunged into her
tiny asshole, ripping a scream from her even as his hips met her ass.
The sensation inside her was amazingly tight and hot, and he loved the
resistance as her body fought against this painful, unfair invasion. He
withdrew only halfway before lunging back into her. "Oh, fah, oh, fah "
her voice gurgled in semi-coherence as he fucked her asshole, giving her
everything she had asked for even as his own climax built within him. He
could feel her body jolt underneath him as she came, her voice thick
with lust and pain even as he continued his violation of her precious
asshole, his cock thrusting deep into her guts. Her screams were a blend
of pleasure and objection, and his own voice joined hers as his pleasure
ripped through him and he seared her insides with his semen, jamming his
cock down to the base and filling her to the very end.

He withdrew from her and wiped himself off on a towel he had left next
to the bed with the other toys. She lay on the bed, quivering. "Ohhhh,
fahhh " she repeated over and over as what appeared to be a kind of
seizure slowly eased down within her.

He lay beside her and held her close, wrapping one arm over her
shoulders. "Helena?" he said.

There was no response for a minute, but soon she lifted her head. "I am
still here, Morrail."

He kissed her. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," she said with a smile. "Thank you."

"I still don't see what you get out of that," he said. "But I'm glad you
enjoy it."

"The same as you," she said. "A good fucking and the best orgasms. Now,
I am exhausted."

"I was tired before we even got into the shower," he murmured.

She turned around and faced him. "Morrail, does doing that bother you
still?"

"No, not anymore. It did once, when you first asked it of me."

"You do it so rarely," she said.

"I don't want to spoil it by making it commonplace. If you wait long
enough that you begin to miss it, then I will not have to escalate it
too quickly." He reached out with one hand and stroked her inner thigh,
running his fingers over the bruises he could already feel swelling
under her fur. She squirmed, moaning softly. "I should stop. You'll get
excited."

"Yes," she replied. "And I am too tired to go through that again."

"I'm too tired to go through that again, too." He kissed her and held
her close. "I love you, Helena."

"And I have always loved you, Morrail. Do not ever forget that."

"I do not think we could play those games if we ever forgot that,
Helena." He kissed her nose. "Goodnight, my love."

"And to you, my beloved husband, who gives me such gifts."

----------------------
The Journal Entries of Kennet R'yal Shardik 
and Related Tales.

The entire archive of stories can be found at:
http://www.pendorwright.com/journals

Copyright 2002 Elf Mathieu Sternberg.
Distributed under the Creative Commons License BY-ND-NC/1.0
Some Rights Reserved. 

Elf's latest stories are available in paperback!  Buy 
the genderbending novel _Sterlings_, available
now from http://stores.lulu.com/elfsternberg

--

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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