"There is something primal in dancing under the canopy of the heavens.The founders had known it, bringing ancient rituals: women dancingaround a fire,...naked, painted, or smeared in ritual blood; praying tothe Goddess of this new world, and to the spirit who dwelled in the skyand in all living things. Remnants of the old cults still lived on inStein, and even here, on the ramparts above a modern city, a hologramfire burned, a safe and clean fire for this later age.Few danced naked anymore except. I woke her with a kiss. I raised her silk nightdress and kissed her clitoris until she moaned and stirred.“What?” she asked as if befuddled.“The week has ended, you are free,” I opined.“Not until the afternoon,” she suggested, “You may take your pleasure again if you will.”“Perhaps that would be taking advantage?” I suggested.“Then do it to please me,” she suggested, “My teats grow lonely for your kisses.”“And your cunt?” I asked.“Has become accustomed to your intrusions,” she admitted, “She is. More

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