Teresa Marquee sat quite prim and proper in the straight-backed chair, pale hands folded on her lap, an appropriately dour look on her face. Her head was bowed slightly, but her eyes were up, looking at the large crowd of people around the room. Most were sitting quietly, or standing, staring at the floor. Some were crying, some were standing together in small clumps of people, chatting politely.

Teresa's dress was a strange mix of depression and frivolity; a tight black top embroidered with black beads, long skinny arms ending, oddly, in puffs of black lace. The same black lace graced the neck, and the bottom hem. She had insisted on wearing her boots, big black heavy boots that laced up her shins. Her mother hated her boots, even on a normal day, but Teresa had insisted. It was her only nod to herself in this otherwise ritualized performance of grief, and she knew her grandmother would have appreciated it. Which is partly why her mom hated it, of course.

Teresa couldn't help but think happy thoughts about her grandmother as she sat there in the stiff-backed chair, doing her best to look the part of an eleven year old heiress-in-mourning. There were so many happy thoughts. An endless stream of happy thoughts. She tried very hard not to smile, but when her mind rested on one particular happy memory she couldn't help herself and so she hung her head even further, looking down at her black bead-clad belly, so that her mother wouldn't see her smiling and blushing on this sad and solemn day.

This memory was particularly good because it also involved her best friend, Susan. Susan had been gone for so long now. At least a year. But when she was alive, they were never apart. She was the brightest funniest sweetest most wonderful friend you could ever have. They would sit on the roof of the turbine station and talk for hours, talk and laugh and sing and do other things, too. They would talk about boys, and about the future, and about boys some more. Susan was four years older than Teresa and she knew all about boys. She'd done all sorts of things. Even though good girls from the Sangkum were never supposed to be with a boy until they had been introduced into society at sixteen years of age, and then they were to court politely until everyone's parents and grandparents agreed to the match--even though all of this, Susan had been with boys. And she loved to tell Teresa all about it.

Teresa remembered how Susan had told her once about a boy who put his hands down her pants and touched her down there. It seemed like the most thrilling thing to Teresa, and she told Susan how great she thought this would be to be touched like that. And Susan said that she could show her, if she wanted.

So then they played this new game when they were together on the roof of the turbine station; they touched each other and kissed each other and pretended that they were a boy and a girl, a boyfriend and a girlfriend, except that they were both girls.

Teresa was feeling her face get flush as she thought about how Susan touched her, and how she kissed her, and then she felt a wave of excited embarrassment as she remembered the time that her grandmother suddenly opened the door to the roof of the turbine station and pulled herself up. Susan pulled her hand out from Teresa's skirt and they sat up quickly, so prim and proper, but her grandmother just chuckled slightly and went about her business in the storage shed. Afterwards, after Susan had left, Teresa hung around her grandmother, wanting to talk to her, to apologize and ask for her forgiveness.

"Grandma Bea, I'm sorry," she said, kicking one boot-clad foot with the other.

Her grandmother put down the wrench she'd been heaving on and looked at Teresa.

"Why child? Why are you sorry?"

"Because..." Teresa looked up at her in surprise, or confusion.

"Come here my child," her grandmother said, and Teresa walked over to her, and Grandma Bea wrapped her thin, strong arms around the girl and gave her a hug. "I'm glad you have a friend like Susan, you have nothing to be sorry for. But you might want to make sure that your mama doesn't catch you two like that!" She patted Teresa on the head. "I don't think she'd understand."

"No, I don't think so either, Grandma Bea."

Tears were rolling down Teresa's cheeks as she remembered that scene with her grandmother two years ago.

"Don't you cry, my little angel," Grandma Bea said.

Teresa actually looked up, because it seemed so real that for just a second she thought maybe her grandmother was there, in the room with her.

"Now would you help me with this bolt?" her grandmother asked, picking up her wrench again and heaving some more.

Susan died not long after, died of the plague they say, the miasmas. And she left Teresa all alone. All alone except for her grandmother, whom she was with almost endlessly after Susan's death. And now her grandmother was gone, too.

Teresa was sobbing now, and her mother put a gentle hand on her shoulder as she passed by her daughter in the stiff-backed chair.



After a while, Teresa stood up and quietly wandered unnoticed down the stairs to the kitchen, where she grabbed a loaf of bread and a block of cheese, stuffed them in a rucksack with a picnic blanket and a bottle of water, and headed out through the servant's door to her family's stables. She couldn't ride today, her mom would kill her if she found out she'd been on a horse during her grandmother's wake. Particularly in this expensive mourning gown. But she could have a picnic down at the stables, or better still up at the turbine station.

The stables were good for her; the fresh, earthy odor of the horses would help keep her mind off her now-profound sadness, as would the comforting, ever-present, slow swooshing of the blades of the turbine station. The turbine station always reminded her of Grandma Bea.

As she approached the stables, she heard the voices of two old gossip-maids. She stepped quietly and listened.

"They say those creatures got to her," one maid said.

"Do they now?"

"They do, they do. Her head was bashed in, they say."

"Oh, now, 'twasn't, I saw the lady, she was as pretty as could be, looked almost like she did yesterday morning when she wished me goo' day."

"You saw her in the coffin though, you did. They hide things, you know, those undertakers. They can hide things."

"I s'pose they can. What do I know?"

"Can you believe it though? After all that dear lady did for those creatures? Fed their children every day, she did. And this is how they repay her."

The sound of a heavy sigh, and then the first maid lowered her voice to almost a whisper. "And they say another uprising is afoot, you know."

"They do," the other responded in a whisper.

Teresa stood in silence. She had not been alive when the last uprising had taken place, it was fifteen years ago. But she had heard, the people of the valleys, the Sangkum, talk about it like it was nearly the end of the world. And as she stood, she heard a distant sound, like thunder but longer, sustained, and she looked up and saw a formation of warships flying high in the sky, so high they were almost invisible, just little points of darkness against the beautiful sky. There must have been fifty of them up there. Maybe a hundred. The warships of Chiang Mai, no doubt, coming to save Nakhon Sawan from the hordes of city dwellers about to rise up against the Sangkum.

"Whatcha doing?" a voice said loudly.

"Huh?" The solid timber of the voice caused her to jump a mile into the air.

"Whatcha doing?"

She looked up. It was Krit, a boy whose parents owned land not far away. Teresa liked Krit; in fact, even way back when Susan and she would talk about boys, Krit was the boy that Teresa talked about. She was terribly embarrassed when she first told Susan about it, because Krit was even older than Susan. He was six years older than Teresa. But Susan told her it was good to like older boys. "They know what they're doing!" she said, giggling. "He'll like you, maybe when you get a little older. But he'll like you, you're an important whatever."

"Heiress," Teresa said back, and they both giggled. "But, my parents would never approve, you know. He's a half-caste."

"Oh, who cares? They don't need to know! You're not gonna marry him, you're just gonna have sex with him!" And they giggled more.

The boy stuck his hand out to her. "I'm Krit," he said. Teresa was surprised that he thought she wouldn't know his name, although it was true that they hadn't been formally introduced. That wouldn't happen for five more years, on her sixteenth birthday.

She took his hand. "I'm Teresa."

"I know! Everybody knows you!"

"Oh," she said, her face flushing.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to embarrass you."

"It... it's OK."

Only then did he drop her hand. "I'm really sorry to hear about your grandmother."

"Oh," she said, her mind flooding again with the thought that her grandmother was gone forever now. "Uh, thank you."

Teresa couldn't help noticing that the boy was wearing a black suit but a burgundy shirt. That meant his parents decided that half-mourning was good enough, even when the deceased was the lady of his estate. They'd probably even let him forget all about mourning in a couple of weeks. Teresa, on the other hand, had three months at least of all black before she could go into half-morning. Then she could wear a little something, a little color. But it'd be a year at least before she could abandon the mourning entirely.

Krit had a sympathetic face, he always did, and when he smiled at her she knew he meant it, that he really was sorry. She smiled back despite her sadness.

As she looked at him, she thought about how beautiful he was; tall and broad shouldered, dark hair, ruddy cheeks. But he's so much older than her, and he's courting now, anyway--what's her name? Some girl, some other half-caste from another valley.

"Well," she said, "I gotta go." She hoped he would offer to come along.

"I'll..." he stammered for a moment. "I'll walk you back, OK?"

"I'm not going back, not right now, I have something I need to do."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah... And I could... use some help."

"I'd love to help!" he said, rather more enthusiastically than a boy who is courting already ought to act around any girl, but in particular around a girl still five years away from being introduced. Not to mention an heiress who was at least several stations above his status.

"Com'on, then," she said, turning and starting to walk away.

He scrambled after her. "I liked your grandmother." Teresa looked over her shoulder at him and slowed down a little. "It's stupid, what kids said about her."

"What do you mean?" Teresa asked, even though she knew perfectly well what he meant.

"I don't think she was a witch. I think she was just..."

"Weird?"

"Eccentric."

Teresa laughed, the boy did too, and she led them onto a path into the jungle.

Twenty twisted winding long minutes later, with lots of breathless panting and very little talking, they arrived at the turbine station, and Teresa hoisted herself up onto the concrete platform. Above her the giant blades of the turbine slowly spun, each of them seventy feet long, a long, slow swooshing sound as they cut their laborious way through the air. She turned and offered a hand to Krit, who was struggling to follow her onto the platform. He refused the offer and scrambled up.

"What are we doing here?" he asked.

"I have something I have to do."

Teresa grabbed the handle of a little door leading into the huge room behind the turbine blades. The handle didn't give. She shook her head disappointingly, then leaned down to investigate closer. She knelt onto one knee and fished around in one of her boots, then pulled a switchblade out.

"Whoa!" the boy said. "You carry that thing around in your boot? To your grandmother's funeral?"

She just gave him an little smile and set about working on the lock. When it finally sprung, she opened the door, slipped the knife back in her boot, and stepped into the room.

It was a cavernous place, a hundred feet high, a hundred feet wide, the only sound a strange, deep echo of the swooshing of turbine blades, the only feeling that of the cool humid air rising from deep within the mountain, the pressure differential bringing it to the surface with just enough wind to tousle Teresa's hair and to spin the giant turbine blades. Though the room was cavernous, it was well-lit by the early afternoon sun shining in through the turbine, but with a giant vertigo-inducing three-bladed shadow constantly passing through. The cavern continued back into the mountainside until it disappeared down a shaft leading into black abyss.

Teresa mounted a grey metal staircase and started to climb, with Krit scrambling after her. It took a while for them to get to the top--a hundred feet is a lot of climbing--but eventually they were at the ceiling, walking along a narrow catwalk.

"Where are we going?" the boy asked, panting, but the girl did not respond.

They turned, and turned again, following a maze-like pattern through the catwalks until they came to a ladder leading to a trap door. Teresa climbed up the ladder, tried the latch, then pulled her knife out of her boot again. A half-minute later they emerged through the trap door onto the roof of the turbine station, a huge flat expanse of concrete extruding from the cliff face of the mountain and jutting out into the early afternoon air. Other than a large rolling steel door against the cliff face, and what appeared to be a couple of winches anchored to the roof, and a couple of odd cables stretched here and there, it was nothing but a football field-sized tract of concrete.

"Holy shit," Krit said, just standing and staring out at the horizon.

The view was truly spectacular. From the roof of the turbine station, you could see all the way past Nakhon Sawan and the river--the giant Chao Praya, green and brown; past the purple steam of the distant forests, to the ocean and the massive man-made escarpment keeping the waters at bay. And as you scanned the horizon to the mountains, you would see an endless string of turbine stations, each exactly like this one, jutting out from the mountains.

"Jeez, it's beautiful," he said with reverence, looking back to the burgeoning waters behind the giant levy.

Teresa walked over to the front of the turbine station and sat down, her legs swinging over the edge. Krit sat down next to her. They stared in silence for a while at the amazing scene unfolding in front of them. Among other things, they could see the city, and the city dwellers, far down in the valley, doing whatever it is those city dwellers do, passing from one street to the next all day long. They could also see Teresa's family's estate, the huge manor, the stables, the barns. In stark contrast to the streets of the city, there was no movement on the estate at all. Everyone, even the farmers and hired hands, were in mourning today.

"Hey," Teresa said, suddenly remembering the pack on her back. "You hungry?"

"Yeah!" Krit said with a big smile. "Ravenous!"

The two youngsters laughed as they pulled the picnic blanket from the pack. They laughed at the beauty of the day, at the beauty of the remarkable view from the mountains to the ocean and all of life in between, and at the opportunity to be alone together on this day, this day of all days.

They sat together on the blanket and Teresa took the bread and cheese from the pack, and her knife from her boot--"See? It comes in handy!"--and started slicing cheese.

"It blure bloes," Krit said, his mouth already stuffed full of bread and cheese, and then they started laughing so hard that he almost spit it out and had to cover his mouth with his hand.



After they'd eaten their fill, laughing, and occasionally touching; smiling and twinkling at each other through the lunch, Teresa sat back on her elbows and looked out at the afternoon sky; there were thin clouds slowly banking from left to right, shining purple as they reflected the color of the vast undifferentiated sea. She could feel Krit's eyes on her, and it made her nervous and excited.

The boy was sitting cross-legged on the blanket next to her; he reached out a hand and set it gently on her shoulder. His touch sent a wave of electric warmth through her body, a feeling she had not had since she was with Susan so many years ago.

"Is that OK?" he asked. "I mean..."

She nodded, momentarily unable to form words.

"Can I...?"

She nodded again, not sure what her was offering to do but willing--oh so willing!--to do whatever he wanted.

He leaned into her and kissed her on the mouth. Her heart leapt when his lips made contact; his breath was warm and humid and smelled wonderful, like bread and cheese and boy-ness, and his kiss tasted even better, musty and... interesting. Very different from how Susan tasted. Susan was like candy, he was like--she couldn't place it. Something strong, like coffee. No, like rock, like earth, like fire. And when she felt his tongue slip into her mouth, she felt the wonderful feeling of wetness flowing between her legs. She had not had another person's tongue in her mouth since Susan, and she had missed it so, so much!

"I'm sorry," he said softly when he lifted his face away from hers. His lips were only a half an inch from her mouth as he spoke.

"It's OK," she answered, unsure what he was sorry for.

"I'm... You know I'm supposed to be courting another girl..."

"It's OK," she said again.

"You're OK with it?" His beautiful eyes were staring right into hers.

She smiled at him and tried to remember what it was that Susan has said to her. "It's not as if we have to get married," she said, her voice shaking, but she managed a little smile. "We can just..." Susan had said "have sex," but Teresa couldn't bring herself to say that to him. Luckily he kissed her before she had to finish the thought.

"I wish we were getting married. I mean, I wish I was courting you," he said.

Teresa's heart was thumping very hard now.

"It's OK," she said again, and he kissed her again. "We don't have to court, we can just..." He kissed her again.

Teresa lay down on the picnic blanket and Krit lay down next to her and they kissed. They lay there in the warm sunshine on the top of the turbine station and kissed, just like she and Susan had done years ago. And she longed for the feeling of Susan's touch--no, she longed now for the feeling of Krit's touch, but the same sort of touch that Susan had given her. And so, after they had been kissing forever, without even really thinking about what she was doing, Teresa reached out and took Krit's hand, pretending at first that she just wanted to hold it, but at the same time directing him down and putting his hand on her knee, and then pulling it up, onto the inside of her thigh.

Krit knew what she wanted, and as soon as she let go of his hand, he slid it up under her dress.

The boy wasted no time, which made Teresa perfectly happy, and soon his fingers were rubbing against her sex through her panties. She smiled to herself; Susan was right, having an older boy was wonderful! Then he slipped his fingers under her panties and began rubbing her bare pussy lips. She felt a tickle, and a tingle, and then a jolt as her whole body gave a little shake from the electricity of his touch surging through her. And then, as she felt her face flush dark red from those wonderful feelings of sex again, she was overwhelmed with a desire to touch his penis.

She had never touched a penis before. Susan had told her all about it--how they were long, and thick, and warm, and how the skin was soft and sweet and wonderful but underneath it was hard as a rock. And she laughed whenever Teresa called it a penis. "It's a penis when it's little," she said. "But when it's big, it's a cock!"

"A cock?"

"A cock. And do you know what boys want you to do with their cock?"

"What?" Teresa had asked, big-eyed with excitement to hear what boys wanted her to do with their cocks.

"They want you to suck it!" Susan was just as big-eyed, and hers were twinkling with excitement and merriment.

"Suck it?" Teresa couldn't believe that Susan had ever done that before.

"Oh, yeah!" her friend said, smiling big and closing her eyes. "And it's so big, it hardly fits. You have to open really big to get it to fit." And she opened her mouth really wide, showing Teresa how wide she had to open her mouth. "You try!" she said. And when Teresa opened as wide as she could, Susan stuck two fingers in the young girl's mouth. "Suck my cock!" she commanded, and Teresa sucked while Susan pulled her fingers out and pushed them in, several times, before the two of them collapsed on the roof of the turbine station in a fit of giggles.

So Teresa had some idea what to expect when Krit pulled his hand out of her panties and sat up on his knees, next to her face, and started unbuckling his pants. She was already opening her mouth wide.

He let out a funny sound, a grunt, or a moan, when his cockhead pushed into her mouth. She'd hardly had time to even look at it, all she really saw was a big purplish head. It was nothing like what she thought it would look like. It looked almost non-human, like some alien tool that was just designed to inject her with sperm. And she loved it, that was exactly what she wanted. She wanted Krit's big aggressive masculine nonhuman tool to inject her with sperm.

And then he was leaning over her, his hands on the blanket above her, and he was pumping his hips up and down and she realized what he was doing, he was fucking her in the mouth! And that thought made her so excited! She felt a burst of wetness flow out of her pussy and her body began to shake, just as he moaned out loud, "Oh fuck! Oh, fuck, Teresa!"

Up until that moment, she really hadn't thought about the taste. It had just been this big thing stuck in her mouth, shoving in and out. But now, she had no choice but to think about the taste, because that suddenly became the overwhelming aspect of the experience. As Krit moaned, she felt his cock stiffen, and then pulse, and then suddenly her mouth was full of a warm, salty liquid, and before she could even figure out what it was, his cock pulsed again and another pump of it surged into her mouth, filling it completely, and she had no choice but to swallow. She remembered Susan telling her, "they always want you to swallow it!"

And so she did, she gulped down a mouthful just is Krit fired another shot, and another, and she gulped those down, too.

When he finished, he just sat above her, leaning over her, catching his breath, his cockhead twitching in her mouth.

Eventually he sat back. Teresa sat up on her elbows and wiped her lips with the back of her hands.

"You OK?" he asked her.

She nodded, looking up at him sitting above her.

"I'm sorry if..."

She grinned and sat up and grabbed the water bottle and took a big swig. "Tastes weird." She took another big drink, then stood up. "Com'on, now, we've got something we have to do!"

She grabbed his hand and dragged him over to the big rolling steel door that was built into the cliff face of the mountain.

"Help me open this," she said.

And then both of them yanked on the giant rolled steel door until it lifted, powerful springs unleashed to hoist it high into the air, shimmering and quaking as it went, steel chains rattling.

Behind the door was a large room carved into the cliff. Surrounding the walls, all around it, were boxes. Boxes and boxes, stacked high into the air. And in the middle of the room was an airplane--a glider, to be more precise, a bright white glider with long thin wings, a narrow body, and two open-air seats.

"Wow!" Krit said with reverence. "What is this?"

Teresa was climbing underneath the glider, pulling away the wheel blocks.

"It's my grandma's. Com'on, help me." She'd walked around to the tail of the glider and was beginning to push it out of the "hanger." Kit ran around back to join her, and the glider--which was surprisingly light--slowly wheeled out onto the concrete expanse of the roof of the turbine station.

Once they got it outside the door of the hanger, Teresa ran back and grabbed the wheel blocks and put them in place again. Then she started hauling boxes from the hanger and loading them into the glider.

Krit joined her in hauling the boxes. "What's in these?" he asked her.

"Food."

"Food?"

"Yeah, food. For the city dwellers."

"Food for the city dwellers?"

"Is that all you do, is repeat what I just said?" she said to him with a teasing grin.

"Is that all you do, is repeat what I just said?" he answered.

The girl laughed outloud. "Teresa is awesome!"

Krit laughed outloud with her. "Teresa is silly!"

"Hey!" She ran at him and tried to tackle him. He easily picked her up and hung her over one of his shoulders. Teresa was impressed by how strong he seemed to be. He carried her back into the storage shed and set her down by some boxes.

"Seriously," he said. "Food? Why food?"

"My grandmother took food to the children of the city dwellers all the time."

"She did?"

"Yeah."

"Wow. That's awfully cool of her."

"Yeah. And I really want to take food to them today, as a present for my grandma."

"Of course!"

They loaded the glider with boxes of food, and then Teresa set about hooking the nose of the airplane to the winches anchored to the front of the roof. The she clambered into the pilot's seat.

"Get in!" she yelled down at Krit.

"Coming!" he yelled back, already mounting the ladder.

"Buckles!" she said, strapping herself in and then picking up a leather aviator's helmet from the floor of the plane and pulling it on over her head and securing a pair of goggles. "Helmet, too!"

"You ready? Hang tight!" She reached up and pulled a tripwire that ran from the winches past the airplane and secured to the cliff face behind them. The trip wire disengaged the locking mechanism on the spring-loaded winches, which immediately sent the airplane racing across the concrete roof and into the air.

"Oh my god!" Krit shouted, a sound of both breathlessness and exhilaration.

"Awesome, isn't it?" Teresa yelled over the rushing wind.

"Oh my god!" was all Krit could say in response.

It wasn't more than five minutes before they were silently gliding over the city center of Nakhon Sawan, big lazy looping circles as they slowly worked their way down to the piazza. A huge crowd of city-dweller children were gathering, looking up at them.

"When I tell you," Teresa shouted back at Krit when they had circled down until they were no more than thirty feet above the square, "pull that lever there."

"This lever?"

"The only lever! And pull it now!"

He pulled the lever, and the bay doors of the glider flew open, and the boxes of food fell down into the crowded square. Kids ran away, the boxes split open when they hit the ground and packages of food went flying. The kids scrambled back and gathered the food.

"OK, close 'em now!"

"Huh?"

"The lever! Push it back into place!"

"Oh!"

The boy pushed the lever back into place, closing the bay doors. Then Teresa pulled back the yoke and the glider started climbing. Right then, a crowd of city dwellers came running out of a building with a large gun, mounted it on a tripod, and started shooting at the glider.

"SHIT!" the boy hollered. "Teresa!!!"

All concentration, she banked the glider, catching the breeze as it rose up the mountains, and climbing, climbing, until she was a hundreds of feet above the turbine station, then slowly and gently letting the plane down. As she landed on the concrete expanse of the roof, the glider's tailhook snagged perfectly on the first of the braking wires stretched across the roof and the glider came to a gentle stop.

Teresa unbuckled herself and jumped out of the plane. Krit sat in his seat, still buckled, catching his breath and looking stunned.

"Come on, moron!" she laughed as she unhooked the tailhook.

He unbuckled and climbed out, a bit shaky on his legs. Teresa was already spinning the glider 180 degrees to roll it back, tail first, into the hanger.



"Why did they shoot as us?" Krit asked Teresa as they sat in the catwalks up in the rafters of the turbine station, munching on some more bread and cheese and looking down on the city shining orange and yellow in the late afternoon sun, as the huge blades of the turbine slowly swooshed through their vision. The city was teeming now, millions of city dwellers, millions upon millions of them. If it's true that they are planning another uprising, the Sangkum were screwed.

"The city dwellers hate us," Teresa answered.

Krit nodded. "So, you think there's an uprising gonna happen?"

"I don't know," she said. "Maybe."

"What are we going to do if there is?"

She looked at him, and he looked at her. She felt her heart flutter for a moment as their eyes met. "We can take the glider, go up into the mountains."

"I'd like that," he said. "I'd like to run away with you."

She smiled.

"There's people in the deep mountains, they say." He put his arm around her.

"Yeah."

"They live a long ways away from all of this, from the war and the rising oceans and the dying forests."

"Yeah."

"That's where we should go. We should go find those people and live with them."

Teresa was just looking up at him, her eyes focused on his, nodding. Then he set down the loaf of bread and the block of cheese and leaned in and kissed her.

Teresa and Krit sat up there the catwalks and kissed for hour after hour, to the gentle swooshing sound of the turbine blades, in the soft yellow light of the setting sun, the constant shadow of the blades passing over them, until it had gotten so late but there was no more light coming into the turbine station. But even then the lovers were unaware.

"That dress," Krit whispered to her. "It must be uncomfortable."

"It is," she whispered back.

"Here..." Krit spread the picnic blanket out onto the floor of the catwalk, then reached over to his new friend and unzipped the back of her dress.

Teresa had never been naked in front of a boy before. Such a thing was unheard of in Sangkum society. And so her heart was pounding as she leaned forward and crossed her arms over her chest and grabbed the tight shoulders and sleeves of the dress and pulled it down.

With her mourning dress now down around her waist, she turned her head nervously to look at Krit. He had already pulled his coat and tie off and and was unbuttoning his shirt. And as she watched him take his shirt off, she slipped her dress over her waist and down her legs. And her heart was slamming in her chest.

Naked now, except for her panties and her socks, she laid down on the picnic blanket as Krit unbuckled his belt and pulled his pants down. She could see that he was shaking, which added excitement to her nervousness. And then he was naked, except like Teresa for his underwear and his socks, and he climbed onto the picnic blanket with her.

They kissed, and they kissed, and somehow, Teresa wasn't entirely sure but somehow, their underwear came off and he was on top of her. She was so scared she couldn't even move but it didn't matter because Susan was so right, it was so wonderful to be with an older boy who knew what he was doing! After kissing her forever, he moved his mouth down from her mouth, down her chin to her neck, and she knew what he was doing, where he was going, and she was so excited! Susan sometimes had kissed her nipples but she was only nine then, and her nipples weren't nearly as sensitive as they are now. Despite the dark, Krit found her little breasts easily enough, and kissed them all over, wonderful tongue-on kisses all over her skin and then her nipples, and as his tongue lapped at her swollen little nubs she felt surges of electricity course through her body and she felt heat in between her legs, and then wetness.

And then he moved off of her nipples, off of her breasts, and she was so disappointed!

Until she realized where he was going.

Teresa knew that guys kissed girls down there. Susan told her all about it. But even though she had really, really wanted to find out what it was like to be kissed down there, she hadn't been able to bring herself to ask Susan to do it. So now, as Krit was kissing her down her chest, and then down her belly, she knew this was going to be the first time. And she was terribly nervous and embarrassed, because she knew she was already soaking wet down there, and that she was getting even wetter. And then he was kissing her pubic hair, the little bit of hair that she had, and her heart was pounding so hard that she felt like she was going to pass out.

And then, oh, man, oh, god, oh fuck! He put his mouth right on her pussy! Almost instantly she felt like she was starting to come; her whole body was on fire, waves of wonderful tingles coursing through her. Involuntarily, she lifted her legs in the air and she put her hands on Krit's head. And then she felt his tongue slide wetly up her slit, and she felt her whole body shake and, completely out of control, she arched her back and let out a little squeek and pressed her legs together, Krit's poor head locked between her thighs. He licked her again, and again, and then his tongue was on her clit and she was coming now, coming hard, one big, solid, long, earth-shattering orgasm!

She was nowhere near finished with her orgasm when he lifted his head away from her pussy, and she was so disappointed!

Until she realized what he was going to do next.

He had a totally serious look on his face as he wiped his mouth off on the back of his hand and climbed up on top of her. He was all business now, he knew what he wanted, and he was going to get it, and Teresa wanted to give it to him so badly! She wanted so badly to give her little pussy to her big strong man. Fuck me! she wanted to shout. Fuck me, Krit, fuck me now! But she couldn't say a word.

It didn't matter, though. He wasn't asking for permission. He was acting on instinct. And as he held himself above her on his hands and knees she felt his big thick head pushing against her, down between her legs, and then he reached down and she felt him pushing in and she was so thrilled, and so scared, and so happy!

And then it hurt, it hurt a lot, but she just closed her eyes and tried to be good for him.

And even though she was crying now, hot tears smarting down the sides of her face, she felt him filling her and she knew he was inside her and it felt unbelievably good! And she felt him pull back and then go inside again and OH!

He was holding himself up on his hands again and looking down at her and he had the sweetest look, he was so concerned.

"Are you OK?" he asked.

She nodded, unable to speak, and reached up to wipe the tears from her face.

"I don't want to..." he said, pulling back and pushing in, "...do anything that... hurts you."

She nodded. "I'm..." she whispered, breathlessly, "...OK."

He smiled, so sweetly. He is so beautiful! And he lifted his hand and wiped away a errant tear from her face and then leaned his face down and kissed her.

Teresa was stretched wide open by his huge and wonderful cock, driving into her, over and over, a hundred, two hundred, three hundred times! Oh, yeah! It was so wonderful to be fucked by him, this was the greatest feeling she'd ever had, even better than anything she'd experienced with Susan and she was so happy to be giving herself to him, and to have him on top of her like this. It made her feel so vulnerable, and yet at the same time so protected. And she knew then, she discovered, what it really meant to be in love with a man. And so she wrapped her arms and her legs around him and held him tight as he continued to make love to her.

He was breathing hard now. He was laying on top of her and had his head on her shoulder, his mouth close to her ear, and she could feel his hot breath and hear as it became more and more labored. And then, with his cock all the way inside her, he stopped, and she heard him grunt and she felt this wonderful warmth filling her vagina and she knew he was coming. And it made her so happy, she just lay there, holding him tightly to her with her arms and her legs wrapped around him and smiling as she felt him pump more of his warm cum inside her.

When he was done coming into her, he held himself up above her and kissed her, and she opened her mouth and they kissed for a long time until finally his penis slipped out of her and then a few moments later, with his tongue still in her mouth, she felt his cum begin to leak out of her too.



Teresa was awakened from a dead sleep by the sound of an explosion, loud and echoing through the mountains.

She sat up, not entirely sure what it was that awoke her. It took her a moment to get her bearings... in the catwalks... on a picnic blanket... naked...

That last thought made her smile, and she turned and looked and there was Krit, still asleep, his beautiful strong naked body shining reddish from the light passing through the turbine.

She scrunched her nose, her brain still foggy. Why is the light red? Her mind was finally beginning to clear of sleep. Why is it shining red? And flickering like...

Bam! Baaam! A series of loud explosions caused her to jump to her feet. Krit sat up onto his elbows, looking confused.

"Come on!" Teresa hollered, already pulling her panties on and throwing Krit's pants at him. He hopped along behind her as she ran to the ladder leading up to the roof of the turbine station, pulling her dress on as she ran. In a moment they were on the roof again.

Their eyes were watering now, searing from smoke. Giant billowing clouds of smoke pouring out of the city. The city, and the smoke above it, glowed orange and yellow and red from countless fires burning everywhere.

Great giant gunships, the size of whole neighborhoods, hung in the air nearly motionless within the red glowing smoke, firing endless streams of rockets that exploded on the streets below amid huge crowds of city dwellers. Teresa and Krit watched in stunned silence as they realized that they were seeing before them the death of thousands. Of tens of thousands. And then suddenly a rocket flew up from the ground and slammed into the bottom of a gunship and the ship began to burn. Moving in slow motion, it seemed to turn, like a wounded animal confronting its attacker, as the fire climbed up its massive side. And then the ship split in two and each half, the front and the back, slowly collapsed and fell onto the tens if thousands of city dwellers, of people, of human beings, below.

The other gunships turned and, still lobbing their rockets into the crowds, began accelerating away.

"I think... I think the Chiang Mai are retreating," Krit said.

All Teresa could do was nod while searing hot tears rolled down her cheeks.



The next morning; the morning after.

The colors of the nighttime battle were gone now; all around them was grey; ashen grey billowing smoke, here and there accented with a reddish glow from fires still burning. And the destruction was not limited to the city; no, not hardly. All through the mountain valleys, smoke billowed grey and ominous. Teresa could hardly bring herself to look at her own family's estate. She had seen it go up in flames during the night. She could only hope that they made it into the refuge caves further up the valley.

The two lovers sat at the edge of the roof and stared in silence. There was no sound at all except for the gentle sound of wind blowing down the valley from the heights above them and the slow, low, endless swoosh of the turbine blades.

Sometime around mid-morning they pushed the glider out of the hanger, filled it with boxes of food, and hooked it up to the slingshot winches. A minute later they were airborne, flying above the destruction in huge loops, gradually gaining altitude as the breeze coming down the mountain valleys gave lift to the wings.

To the north, and the west, they could see green and purple mountains, lush and fertile and beautiful. To the south, and the east, they could see the ocean, dark against the smoke-grayed sky; the ocean that already was lapping against the top of the giant escarpment built to hold it back. Soon the water would rise enough that it will breach the protections, as it has for the last hundred years to each of a series of protections that mankind has built in a fool's effort to hold back the inevitable. Soon, this wholesale destruction by the wars of humankind that smoldered beneath them would be meaningless, irrelevant, forgotten. Engulfed and overwhelmed by the endless sea.

Up and up the glider rose into the sky until it was higher than Teresa had ever been, higher than all the mountains, high enough that the giant billows of smoke rising from her family's compound were nothing more than tiny puffs among a million similar tiny puffs.

Only then did she bank the glider to the north, and the west, heading to the deep mountains.



=-=-=-=-o0o-=-=-=-=



Epilogue

They stood together, Teresa and Krit, looking out from the loft door of the old barn. The view from up there was unbelievable, they could see forever. The boy had his arm around the girl.

Teresa smiled at him. "We told the old couple we were brother and sister," she said.

He laughed. "Yeah, but you know what that old man thinks of us, I'm sure he wouldn't be surprised to learn that the Sangkum practice incest."

Teresa laughted.

The old woman was unbelievabley nice to them. The man was, actually, too, even though he didn't like the valley folk.

After they'd landed the glider in a nearby field, some of the villagers who arrived on the scene were quite hostile. "Sangkum shit!" they were shouting. "Die Sangkum shit!"

But the old woman would have nothing to do with it.

"These chil'n landed in our field, we take care of them."

The crowd hurled more insults their way.

"Jeremiah, tell these people to leave these chil'n be."

The old man hemmed and hawed and kicked the dirt.

"Come on you old man," the woman said.

"Peoples, you gotta go and leave these childrens be."

The crowd was unhappy but it was enough to calm them down, and once Teresa had showed them that the plane was stocked full of boxes of food, they were downright friendly. The men of the village helped push the glider into the old couple's barn in exchange for a box of food apiece.

The old woman cooked them a beautiful dinner of curried rice and vegetables and jasmine tea, and then she apologized to Teresa, "I ain't got no mourning clothes, who you mournin' for girl? Can't be just from yesterday's battle."

"Ought to be mourning the city folk you know," the old man said. "They's dead by the thousands."

"The valley folk died by the thousands too," Krit said.

The old man looked at Krit with beady red eyes and opened his mouth. But then he closed it again, and nodded briefly. "Suspect you're right there, young'un," he said.

The old woman shook her head. "It's all so bad," she said softly. "So then, girl, who you mournin' for?"

"My grandmother," Teresa said.

"She died two days ago," Krit added.

The woman looked at Krit. "Your grandma, too, then boy?"

"Uh, that's right."

The woman looked right at his maroon shirt and smiled and Teresa knew she'd figured out their secret already.

"I'm sure old Jeremiah has clothes suitable for a mourning boy--young man I should say. Don't you Jeremiah? You take this young man and find him some suitable clothes, there, mister." The old man sighed and stood and signaled to Krit to follow him.

"But child," the woman said, looking back at Teresa, "I ain't'a got nothin' for you but my daughter's things." She handed Teresa a box full of bright-colored dresses and shirts and scarves, the wonderful colorful clothing of the mountain folk.

"Oh, I love it!" Teresa said, her eyes sparkling.

"But it ain't appropriate for mournin' folk."

"I don't want to be in mourning," Teresa said. "My grandmother would have hated it anyway! She would've wanted me to wear these beautiful colorful dresses!"

The old woman smiled. "I like your grandmother already."

Teresa smiled up at the woman. "You're very kind to me," she said, tears welling in her eyes.

"Oh my child," the woman said, and wrapped her arms around Teresa. The girl started sobbing.

"Oh my child," the woman said again, "you cry, baby, you cry. You've got the whole hurt of the world on your shoulders and nobody can take that, not for long."

Eventually Teresa stepped back and dried her eyes.

"Ma little baby girl died when she was 'bout your age," the woman said.

"Oh," Teresa said, starting to cry again.

"It was so very long ago now, I'm over it. But you remind me of her. You don't look like her, but girl, you got her spark."

Teresa smiled at the old woman. "Spark."

"That's right. You shine like the sun, just like my baby girl did. Now you take that dirty old dress off and make your grandma happy and make me happy too and put on something nice and colorful and pretty."

"Yes, ma'am," Teresa said. A minute later she was twirling around in a patchwork dress of a million colors.

"Oh you look fine girl!" the old woman said.

Krit and the old man walked in. Krit smiled at Teresa. "You look beautiful!" he said.

"You look just like Daisy," the old man said with a sound of reverence.

"Don't she!" the old woman said. She turned and looked at Teresa. "Daisy was our daughter."

"You look just like Daisy!" the old man said again, his voice cracking.

"The world is a funny place," the woman said. "You just never know what's going to happen next."



And now Teresa and Krit were together alone in the loft, looking out over the endless mountains. In the very very far distance you could see the smoldering runs of Nakhon Sawan, and the ocean beyond.

The girl turned to the boy and they took each other by the hands and then they kissed. And then they lay down on the blanket in the hay and they kissed.



Patchwork dress off now, old grey suit in pile in the hay; lovers entwined, arms and legs wrapped 'round each other.

And they rolled in the hay, and they rocked, first him on top, then her, rocking together and loving each other and laughing and giggling.

And she felt him stiffen inside her, and he made those wonderful sounds she'd heard the day before on the roof of the turbine station, the heavy breathing and the grunting and she felt herself suddenly warm and full and she knew that Krit was filling her with his cum and she was holding him tight and smiling.



The morning after, she stood at the loft window again, looking across the ages to the ruins of Nakhon Sawan, and she knew that she and Krit had found a new home, and that they would be safe here. Krit was still asleep and so she pulled on her patchwork dress and climbed down from the loft and went to the house and the old woman was making griddle cakes and she smiled her big beautiful smile when she saw Teresa.

"And how did you sleep my chil'?" the woman asked.

"Wonderfully," Teresa answered.

"That boy of yours--your brother--" she said with a sly smile, "--he didn't keep you up now did he?"

Teresa felt herself blushing, and the woman smiled.

"Why he did! That sly one!"

"Did what?" the old man said as he shuffled into the kitchen. "Who did what?"

"None of your bid'ness you old nose!" the woman said, winking at Teresa.

The man poured a cup of coffee and handed it to Teresa, who took a little sip. It was the most delicious coffee she'd ever had. These mountains are where the best coffee in the world is grown.

"'Old nose,'" the man grumbled as he poured himself a cup. Then he looked up at Teresa and his faded blue eyes twinkled. "You sleep well last night?" he asked her.

She just knew the old man had figured them out, too.

"Great," she said. He nodded. "It's really beautiful here," she said. "Krit and I are really happy."

"Mary and me are happy you two came to us, too, aren't we Mary?"

The old woman smiled.

"The world is a funny place," she said again. "You just never know what's going to happen next."

Comments

Nickname Feedback
litoa77 Beautiful, truthful and fictitious, real and un. Not everyone does the woman's view well, you do.

Side note: Some of the references rocked me back 40 years so I looked it up. Isn't it Chiang Mai vs. Chang Mai? The geography fits, anyway, and I remember reading some Buddhist translations from 13th-15th century.
Ah, damn, you're right! Will fix now. Thanks for the editorial assistance! Man there are some brainy people at ASSTR!

--Chris
Anonymous Sounds like an adventure story that could go on for awhile and in a number of different ways.....That means I like it.
I'm definitely thinking I want to learn more about what happens to Teresa and Krit and this sad crazy world they live in.

--Chris
MarcusAriel My word. I have liked your stories ever since I read the first one. Then I read "the Mourning After," and my enjoyment of your writing has skyrocketed! I think that this is the best short I have read on ASSTR. Thanks for sharing.

Looking forward to more,

Marc
*Blush* So glad you liked it, Marc, and thanks for letting me know.

--Chris
Anonymous Enjoyed the story very much.
Little Darling What a great story!

Love and loving that exists apart from any age gap as the world they know burns apart behind them. More!
Thanks, Darling! And welcome to our site!

--Chris
Xaldir Its not often i leave Comments but for this one I have to say. Wonderful, nearly perect. I am a huge Fan of Science Fiction Erotic and I would love to see this Story as a Series.
thank you so much Xaldir. I'm definitely thinking about adding to this. Cheers!

--Chris
me I love science fiction when it is included in these stories, it just matches my preferences. Your story was wonderfully written and I enjoyed it. Please visit this new world and/or this couple in the future, the sooner the better. ;)
Thank you, "me." So glad you liked it.

--Chris

Leave a comment

Writers love to hear from their readers, so please leave a comment about this story. Because the ASSTR comments form is not working right now, you can leave a comment by emailing me at [email protected]. I’ll add your comment here, and I never include email addresses when I add a comment to a story, so your comment will be 100% anonymous.

To help me update stories with your comments, try to include the title of the story you are commenting on, and a username I can attribute your comment to ("anonymous" or similar is fine, and if no nickname is provided, I'll just use "anonymous." I will never use your real name, or include your email address, unless you specifically ask me to).

Thanks!