A Perfect World: An Erotic Science Fiction Short Story

BOOK: A Perfect World: An Erotic Science Fiction Short Story
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A Perfect World

 

An Erotic Science Fiction Short Story

 
 

©
2011 Kris Cook

 

Published
by Forbidden Passion Press

 

[email protected]

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www.kriscook.net

 
 
 
 

In a world where death has been virtually conquered and
beauty is the norm, a husband goes to extreme measures to ensure his wife is
approved to have their baby. Will Greg be able to agree to William's wicked
request so that Seana can become a mother?

 
 
 
 

Copyright
2012 Kris Cook

Edited
& Formatted by Chloe Vale

 

ePub
ISBN: 978-1-452446-61-5

 

All
rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY.
No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any
printed or electronic form without prior written permission, except in the case
of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. Please do not
participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the
author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

 
 
 

A Perfect World

 

Seana’s maternal clock vexed me with each tick tock. If it
had been audible, it would’ve also disturbed the other passengers. The little
voice in my head kept shouting that this was my last chance to help her before
our hopes would be silenced forever. I knew that the long shot at the end of
this trip had less of a chance of working out than a snow cone in hell.

Fuck!

I turned toward her. As always, she looked perfect. Her
blonde locks hit her soft shoulders like sunlit waterfalls. Dressed to the
nines in an outfit that flattered her amazing figure, she seemed ready to face
anything. Yet, her hand wringing and constant sighing revealed the storm
brewing beneath the untainted façade. The more she fidgeted, the more it drove
me insane… and we still had forty-five minutes left until we landed, not that
it really mattered anymore.

She asked me for the millionth and one time what I thought
he would say.

“I don’t know,” I stated, giving my same answer and readying
for the long pointless discussion to follow.

Seana glared at me with her hazel eyes, daring me to add
anything further.

Knowing this signal all too well and happy not to reawaken
another debate, I remained mute and rested my eyes on a warm, unspoiled beach.
I scanned the holographic image and the accompanying words floating next to it
about numerous vacation destinations. Our coach tickets afforded us this level
of surfing, but they didn’t allow us access to sound, smell, or any other
deeper simming. But for a lofty fee, even the lowly coach traveler could
upgrade in transit. I wished the Caribbean or some other island was our final
destination instead of Dallas. Maybe next year, I thought. But I knew better.

“Don’t give me that, Gregory Michael.” Her tone delivered a
sting. I hated when she called me that, like I was the densest person in the
world and it was her duty to scold me.

“Give you what?” I asked innocently.

It was the verbal dance we’d created over eight years of
marriage. One. Two. Three. A shower of expletives from that beautiful mouth.
One. Two. Three. A genuine apology. One. Two. Three. The waltz would finish in
a final dip and a kiss, followed by wonderful make-up sex.

Seana began to mouth an answer that I suspected might make
several jaws drop, but she stopped suddenly and only shook her head. She seemed
like she was about to cry, and my gut clenched. I grabbed her hand, and she
squeezed back.

Public tears were evaded. I was glad. She didn’t like to
show any vulnerability, even to me. I was certain that I was the only one who
had ever seen her shed a tear, and then only once when her employment review
came in with only a
Meets Expectations
.

“Greg, I’m sure it seems ludicrous to you, but we just have
to convince him.”

“I know, sweetheart.” And I did.

Her urgency and despair had grown well beyond my capacity to
share. Yet, I had caught some of the fervor when her mother’s grandfather had
died in a diving accident seven months ago. I had thought our dream might
actually happen and let myself imagine what it would be like to have a baby in
our house. Unfortunately, his new wife’s nephew got everything, including what
we wanted.

“But you’ve seen William’s Vid; you know about his life. How
are we going to do it?” The panic in her voice was heartbreaking. Rather than
make any suggestions, I put my arm around her. She leaned in to me and closed
her eyes.

“Request for sim,” I ordered. Instantly the beach and the
article disappeared replaced by the familiar authorization prompt.

“Gregory Michael Links, seven-three-six-beta-Missouri,” I
confirmed. After the ident-scan, several selections appeared.

“Waves and gulls, first level, seats thirty-seven A and
thirty-seven B.” The computer complied, adding the desired birds and sounds
created to relax the unseasoned traveler. I worried that the cost would be much
higher since it was added to our tickets and not pre-ordered, but then let the
thought go. Even if we had to break into our tiny savings account, so be it.
Seana needed to be distracted. Hell, so did I.

None of our relatives had consented to help us start our
family. We’d even asked our parents but got the answer we expected since they
were only in their seventies, except my dad who was eighty-two. Both our
mothers were very understanding as they’d gone through the same ordeal, though
not to the late age limit like Seana. But neither would agree to it.

When we got married, Seana told me she didn’t want a baby. I
should’ve known better. When we were dating, every chance she got to be around
any child, she took it.

Seana sat up and dug in her purse, pulling out the Vid of
Anthony. I pretended not to notice. She activated it, and a miniature of Rick
and Shelia’s beautiful baby boy sat in her hand, smiling. The image was from
his first birthday party. I remembered the crowd of fifty-two couples and
seventeen singles. It was the event of the year in our neighborhood. Shelia’s
great-grandmother had been struck by lightning over a year earlier. She and
Rick had been so lucky.

“We’ll be landing in Dallas in fifteen minutes,” a voice
announced and continued with other information and instructions. Passengers
followed the mandates of the attendants and brought their seats to the upright
position in the customary shuffling.

Seana visibly tensed.

William, whose late wife was a distant relative of mine,
would be waiting at the baggage claim for us. I didn’t remember ever meeting
him, though my mother thought he’d come to my high school graduation. Still, I
had the Vid of him, so I knew what he looked like. Chasing the elusive rainbow
had been hell for Seana and me. I was out of family members. William was the
end of my prospects for Seana, no matter what the outcome.

The bumpy landing briefly pulled me from my thoughts, but my
nerves were already shot.

I wondered how Seana would react if he didn’t agree to it? I
realized this could be the end of us, too. Would she try to find someone with
more potential to give her the child she desired so much, even if she only had
eleven months for the attempt? As much as it pained me, I believed she would.

As we disembarked, Seana motioned that she was going to the
ladies room to freshen up. I nodded. Her normally perfect hair needed a bit of
attention but that was all. Everything else about her was flawless. I looked
around at the crowd, and, per our DNA-corrected world, saw only attractive
women. Still, Seana had a slight edge on all of them.

“We would have such a beautiful child,” I said aloud to the
air.

All the forms were completed and approved. Only one thing
was left to get. But would William give it to us?

Over the past three years, we’d tried to acquire what we
needed from anyone we could think of. We even attempted to purchase an
accidental death, but the average month only produced about thirteen hundred
worldwide. And only two to three of those went on the open market. Every time
we would bid, they were snatched up at prices far beyond our reach. It had to
come from a family member and, though not a blood relative, William was my last
hope.

From the ladies room, Seana emerged looking stunning. Her
white leather pants and black silk top only added to her awesome presence. We
were ready to meet him; I hoped it was enough.

I saw William before he saw us.

He was talking to a gorgeous woman, who was understandably
captivated by him. I’ve been called a nine point eight-two, even a ten once or
twice—but William? He busted the ten-scale wide open. He wore his dark, wavy
locks long. His eyes sparkled with the deepest blue, and his shoulders were
Olympian in breadth. He wore gym shorts and a tank top, I assumed to better
show off his muscular physique, which was matchless. The baggage claim was his
to rule as most eyes were on him. I saw why he still modeled for major
advertising firms. There was no need to digital-brush him. His smile reached
across the room and found us. In the world of perfection, he was the
quintessence.

Yes
from him?
Never.

William excused himself from the female admirer and rushed
to us. He put out his hand to me. I took it, and his hand swallowed mine. I had
to look up to him. He had three plus inches on my six-foot-one height.

“Nice to meet you.” Seana smiled.

Ending our handshake, William turned to my wife. “My
pleasure.” His stare lingered on her a little too long for my taste. They
clasped hands. “Your Vids didn’t do you justice.”

“The same’s true about you, Mr. Graves.”

I felt a boulder of jealousy drop in my gut as William
brought Seana’s hand up to his lips.

He released Seana’s fingers, but his gaze remained fixed on
her. “
William
, please. Welcome to
Texas,” he said with no sign of a southern accent.

We were swept into his waiting limo. As the driver pulled
onto the highway, William began asking questions about our work and family and
then filled us in on the latest happenings in his life. Three photo shoots in
Europe and one in Australia a month earlier had rounded out his year, plus he
had just finished his doctorate in Philosophy, giving him a total of five
graduate degrees. He had decided to learn Mandarin since he was thinking about
relocating to China. He invited us to the opening next year of one of his
clubs. His fortune reached around the globe.

Gloom coiled around me like a noose. William was
good-looking, charming, intelligent, and happy. Why did he have to be so damn
happy?

“Maui opens in the perfect season for great waves. Do either
of you
surf
?”

Seana was enthralled—as was I. Who wouldn’t be? I wondered
if she had forgotten why we were here, but when I looked over at her, I knew
she hadn’t. She flipped her hair back many more times than necessary, a dead
giveaway that she was nervous.
Tick tock
.

“Thanks, but it depends if Seana and I can coordinate our
vacations.” I was with our city’s public works department, and she worked for a
communications company with an asshole for a boss. We both got three weeks off
each year. No more. How could he understand our life?

I knew asking someone’s age was the worst social blunder,
but I was tempted. There had to be less than twenty people with William’s years
in the entire world. The original team that cured aging would’ve been proud of
their handiwork in him. I realized that William was far beyond human in our
twenty-second century world; he was a god. Trepidation took hold of my entire
being.

The black vehicle arrived at William’s private drive and
stopped at the front of his massive estate. It was hidden from the street by
heavily wooded grounds; this was no
McMansion
.
William informed us he had had it built for his late wife, Heather.

The interior was elegant and filled with incredible
paintings and sculptures. A marble staircase surrounded the circular foyer.
Music and the scent of fresh flowers met us. A handsome butler took our
luggage.

After going to our suite and changing clothes, we were led
by a servant to the library. Books lined every square inch of the walls of a
room that could’ve easily held our entire apartment. William sat in one of the
four wingback chairs, reading an ancient text. There were no computers here,
only visceral books.
 
We joined him, more
mesmerized by the man than the surroundings.
 

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