Aliena Too by Piers Anthony Page A

Aliena agreed.
    â€œMay I kiss you again?”
    She struck his shoulder with her fist in a mock attack. “Don’t ask, dodo! Do it! You have the onus. Anytime.” But she didn’t wait on him. She kissed him, then rolled with him in the water, feeling his arousal building again. She wrapped her arms and legs about him and squeezed her breasts hard against him as his hands clamped on her buttocks.
    He resumed his Note of Joy. His member stiffened and drove into her again, and again they climaxed together.
    At length they returned to the car, where Sam and Martha waited. “We made it,” she said simply, as if they didn’t know.
    â€œWe noticed,” Sam said. “We watched, as we are required to do. That set us off, and we did it in the car.”
    â€œWe were very unprofessional,” Martha confessed. She returned to her cell phone.
    â€œThere’s just something about the starfish Song,” Sam said. “We saw it with Aliena, too.”
    â€œOf course they did,” Aliena agreed. “On this very beach. That’s how they knew to come here.”
    â€œThe word is out,” Martha said. “We’ll have to go into public mode. A bit prematurely, but not by much, actually.”
    They started the drive back. Soon police cars intercepted them, silently, and escorted them home. A police cordon had been thrown around the house, holding back the crowd that ringed it.
    â€œYou kids get a night’s sleep, or whatever,” Sam said as they pulled in. “Tomorrow will be busy.”
    They took him at his word. They retired to the bedroom, where they lay together kissing and holding hands. “I am so glad you decided,” Gloaming said. “You taught me love, and it burst out of me. I never felt such emotion before.”
    â€œI still do love Quincy. But now I love you too. The way Brom loves Aliena, and also Star.”
    â€œI am glad.” Then they slept.
    In the morning they showered, dressed, ate, and announced themselves prepared for the day. There followed a rush of public appearances as Gloaming was introduced as Gloaming the Star-Man, the male counterpart to Star the Star-Woman. His formal Unveiling had been preempted by the opera incident. No one blamed Lida, but she knew it was her fault.
    â€œIt’s just one of those things,” Grandfather Johnson said. “Plans go oft agley.”
    Still, she might have reconsidered had she realized what would happen. She was not a politician and did not think in such terms. Lida was now part of the sidelines, as she was glad to be, though women’s programs interviewed her because of her proximity to the figure of the day.
    And of course Gloaming sang bits from the opera that had blown his cover, because no human man could have done the same. Crowds gathered to hear his beautiful voice.
    They toured the world, heavily guarded, because the nuts were always out there, but well received everywhere. Gloaming sang in the language of whatever nation they visited, a detail that was much appreciated. It was a whirlwind of publicity that often left Lida figuratively gasping.
    Just one thing was missing: they never went near Star, the other starfish envoy, also known for her singing. “Why is that?” Lida asked Sam.
    â€œToo risky,” Sam replied. “We need to let the excitement die down some before we can put them together where a single bomb might take them out.”
    She had to concede the validity of the caution. Sam, Martha, and the rest of the security apparatus kept most of their business out of sight, but there was quite real danger. Keeping the two starfish envoys apart made sense, for now.
    Then Lida saw a news item. Health care was on the way to becoming universal, especially since the starfish supported it, but there were families that still slipped through the cracks. This one was about a five-year-old boy named Jeb who had a congenital condition that would cost him his