I write this in response to Sharon and her scribing of Velor and Velorians. I do not contest her tales nor do I disbelieve. I wish only to offer a different point of view.     Sharon's opinion of a Protector's role is skewed by her own imagined inadequacies and her failure to be initiated as one. Each P-1 has her own tale and her own doubts. Sharon is arguably more confident than any Protector could ever be. The chosen ones come fully endowed with failings and flaws to offset their perfections and promise.     I know this. I am one, and not the best example. This is my story. * * * * * Questlings     Not all Velorians live on Velor, though most Protectors are chosen from the residents of the homeworld. Nova's parents were minor functionaries in the embassy on Belside. She'd long held the opinion that her optimal genetics were not a fortuitous accidental roll in the crap shoot of genetics but the result of an 'occasion of opportunity' by her beautiful mother, Dai'ayn. Nova's father treated her with small affection until the day the first forms were given and the scores placed her in the 99th percentile. After that time, Ral'syul forgot his objections, doubts and reservations, claiming her proudly and vocally as his sun-child, Nov'ayul, which was her given name, after all.     Belside, at the time, had a vital economy, poised at a convenient transfer point and possessing, in their territory, moons and sub-planets rich in trans-atomic elements.     The options available to her parents for education were limited. The Velorian School lumped all twelve embassy brats in a small classroom. The teacher would teach the alphabet to a few, history to others, and then attempt to teach Nova and her age-mate, Dar'nyot, astrophysics. The method was surprisingly effective. The students received a passable general education in a cozy environment.     Once Nova passed the first forms so glowingly, her parents worked to insure her continued success, doubting the ability of a sole instructor to properly guide the intellect of a future guardian. The guidelines from Velor were unequivocal. P1's must be socialized, which meant no private tutors. The only other educational option was the strangely free-formed system practiced by the Belsidea. Though unorthodox the scholars of Belside were renowned. The ambassador pulled a few stings to ensure the girl a place, and the prospect of graduating a future Protector thrilled the headmasters of the academy.     Nova adjusted after a time, holding back only until she found a sure footing. Always cautious, she watched until the basic structure and politics were clear to her. She continued to excel in the non-graded but highly competitive atmosphere. Her visits home were short but happy; though her father grumbled about the outlandish clothing she'd adopted to outwardly conform to the standards of her peers.     The second forms came and went with no change in Nova's P1 status, except an incremental upward tick. Belside academia would continue to nurture and educate the young Velorian. * * * * *     The mentor would present problems, ethical dilemmas, philosophical questions, mathematical equations, and historical situations (from a host of worlds) and the students would investigate, quantitate, debate, and document until the topics were exhausted or the solutions agreed upon. The mentor would then assign another problem set.     There is a certain beauty in never being told an answer is correct; one must develop a barometer to judge. The only external confirmation of achievement came from being assigned to smaller groups with people one considered intelligent and compelling debaters. If included with those people then is one not such a person also?     Dar'nyot and Nova were placed in such a group. Amongst themselves the seven students named their group 'Questlings'; it was a common affectation of adolescence to adopt a communal identity. Once the mentor assigned the questions, his task and responsibilities ended and the students were free to pursue the answers in whatever venue preferred. The Questlings preferred the lake.     Daro (Dar'nyot's pet name), though male and therefore not P1, had been sent along to academy for several reasons. Some were explained — to lower the demands on the embassy teacher, to keep Nova company, to receive an outworld education — but some were not and consequently were the more interesting ones.     The Questlings speculated on those frequently. Sometimes when resting from the intellectual demands, the topic would percolate lazily through the group as they floated about. A series of air mattresses, tethered together as a star-shaped raft, provided an island of perceptual privacy. Though jet boats and kequas (kayak-like canoes with small sails) passed with regularity, the collection of youths and lasses felt insulated and acted accordingly.     “He was sent to keep you satisfied,” Tol suggested, as always thinking of sex. Ari Tol could be ready if a suggestion of a romp was mentioned. He also had a keen mind for geometry and physics.     Masa glanced up from her position beneath him (mostly — at something just less than eight and a half decas, not all of her fit under anything smaller than the sky), a place she found most appealing judging by the dreamy-eyed look in her face. Her family was trades-people from Dancer. Her iridescent hair glimmered purple and black in the ruddy sunlight. Under a brighter sun the thick dark hair was a prism of colors and her black skin would gleam like oil. Belside's red sun stole some of her glory if none of her exotic good looks.     Her soft lilting words carried only as far as the circle of heads. “To keep you from falling in love with any Belsidea hunk with a way with his…”     “Masa K-vason!” Kemi whispered in her little girl voice. “Vulgarity is the refuge of the ignorant.” Tsa Kemi was tiny and plain — a typical Belsidea girl. On this planet the males wore all the bright plumage. Her timidity extended to most things except debate. In an intellectual argument she became a tiger, devastating and dangerous. Her encyclopedic mind for detail could instantly rebuke any adversary's weaker point.     She blushed at any verbal reference to sex but watched with great interest, occasionally offering advice. Her pater had fit her with a chastity belt before the term and checked the state of it at every visit. Virginity was a marketable asset among Belsidea females. Males like Tol had different priorities.     “Penis.”     “Cock”     “Prick.”     “Tool,” said the twins, back and forth, listing the various and descriptive names for that portion of a humanoid male anatomy. They did it to tease Kemi's blush, a reaction which started somewhere around her navel and spread outward, upward, and downward.     “Balweck,” one said, with a grin.     Kemi tried to argue. “Balweck,” she whispered, blushing further, having said the word, “Doesn't belong in your list. Theras aren't humanoid.”     Balweck was the slang term for the Thera's appendage that was roughly equivalent in function to a human's nose but resembling another anatomical feature more closely — except in size. The said feature was commonly used for another purpose — an open secret of the sex trade. Many Theran made a living on cruiser ships.     “But that part of them certainly is!” Sae (maybe) said. Bae raised his arm and moved it back and forth through his twin's hands. “Ooooo, less… Less.” Sae fell back laughing.     Masa moaned more convincingly, but from Tol's actions not Bae's.     “Faster, Tol,” Kemi said, without blushing. Nova wondered if the girl had some latent telepathic talent. Her suggestions were always right on target. Tol complied and Masa moaned again. One of the twins reached out absently and brushed back the glossy hair that had fallen in the tall girl's eyes during her exertions.     Nova raised her head, momentarily, from her arms. Daro's hands on her back and shoulders felt too good to maintain the position long, but the twins were nice to look at.     The result of Belsidea attempts at eugenics, Bae and Sae were an apparent testimony to the success of the program. Unfortunately, the endeavors all ended in such disasters. The children of the experiment, all twins, were not only homosexual but also monogamous to each other. The fantastic genetics could only be transmitted by artificial insemination from a set of male twins to a set of females. The second generation followed the same pattern and would be the last. New trials had been postponed until a complete review of the first failure could be made.     Est Sae (or was it Est Bae?) could think in tri-dimensions and solve spatial problems in his head. The other twin had memorized every love poem in the library, and could build a Hypoid sonnet from a list of unrelated words thrown out at random. The results were usually highly erotic, sometimes funny or tragic, but always had excellent iambic pentameter and rhythm. His haiku were even better, small verses breathing life. The talent extended to dictating long strings of logical connections from a string of seeming irrelevant facts the others would provide.     “Why do you think you're here, Daro?” Tol asked, able to share in the conversation and please Masa simultaneously. Nova hated when he did that to her, she preferred to be the center of her lover's attention, not a distraction. Masa didn't seem to mind and, admittedly, even part of Tol's attentions was better than most male's best efforts.     “Straight man, I guess,” Daro replied. He really did have a good mind, but his strengths were, as yet, undefined. He was the coordinator, keeping them all on task, getting them back to the question at hand, and summarizing the project.     Nova was uncertain why she'd been chosen for this group. The mentors had some arcane reason for everything they did, so this grouping was hardly an accident. Why did she belong, what did she bring or contribute? The doubt nagged her whenever the topic of Daro's presence was explored. Her P1 status, obviously, but these younglings were geniuses, as she was not.     “His hands,” she said aloud. “The mentors gave us a prize among men for our simple enjoyment.” She felt Daro jiggle a little and by the small chuckle she knew he was laughing.     Kemi sighed. “A prize among men. That's nice, I hope…” she said, trailing off, her frustrations plain. Marriages were political and economic, but once she provided a legitimized heir or two, the belt would be off and her body would be her own. Daro gave Nova a pat, a non-verbal promise to return, and clambered over the twins to Kemi.     “Poor baby. Let me help,” Daro said. He started at her feet, rubbing and soothing. Eventually he'd reach her shoulders and neck as he had Nova's, and Kemi would be a lump of contented, if not sexually satisfied, flesh under his wonderful hands.     Tol stretched over and kissed the virgin. “A prize among men. Call me when that shitting thing comes off. I'll give you a prize.”     “I've seen your trophy. I think I'll take a cruise, instead,” she said, relaxing as Daro manipulated her ankles. The twins hooted in appreciation and mimicked a Thera's equipment again. Sae rolled over Nova, and he and Bae hugged her between them. Not sex, just cuddle, a Nova sandwich. One of them or both would have rescued Kemi from her doldrums if Daro hadn't.     Masa made a little sound of impatience, wrapping her legs tighter around her lover.     “Now Tol,” Kemi advised and he moved harder and steadily to bring Masa to her climax. The five minimally participating Questlings watched as the dark girl orgasmed, always a terrific show of fireworks. Tol would need a few more romps to reach his. Belsidea males were undeniably gifted in that regard. Nova's turn would come, sooner or later.     “Fuck me, fuck me.” The exotic lisp only intensified the erotic message.     Kemi blushed, undoubtedly wishing to be in Masa's place, panting and crying. Of course, Nova mused; it might have been the vulgarity that caused the Belside girl to redden.     Daro had reached Kemi's knees, the backs of which were sensitive enough to give the little henbird a good taste of what she was missing otherwise. She squirmed but subsided when Daro shushed her.     Being between the twins was always a little strange. The caresses they started on her bare flesh would always end on each other and Nova usually wound up very hot and unfulfilled.     Masa's aftershocks died away, slowly — rocking the raft with each. Tol showered attention on the nubbins that were her breasts, teasing her into a few more quivers.     Daro asked, “Why are any of us here?” His question dovetailed nicely with the philosophic topic of the assignment, “What is the purpose of existence? What is the proof of our existence?”     “I'm here because I amuse Tol,” Masa said. “But that could be true of all of us.” Tol grinned and smacked her bottom as she rolled away. Tol had no homosexual tendencies and would rather spend an hour in frustrated petting with Kemi than a minute in consummated sex with a male.     Masa slid off the raft for a dip in the cool dark green water. She could swim with the fish and frequently did. The first time she'd stayed under for more than three ticks, Nova had dived in after her. Finding her in the murky water had been impossible, but Masa had found her ersatz rescuer easily, gliding sleekly past with a mere touch in tender places. That had been the first time Masa had demonstrated any intimacy with the Velorian, but not the last.     Tol sighed. “I'm here to learn to be a praetor.” His father was a senator, a hereditary title. The first career of a senator was always praetor.     “And me, an amusing hostess,” Kemi said with an identical sigh.     “We'll be deep-space explorers,” Sae/Bae said. Every schoolboy's dream and the twins' reality coincided.     Masa called, “Take me with you.” Her destiny was as set as any. Her family's business would swallow her up in its anonymous legions.     “What good will you do us?” Bae called back, laughing. Her sexual appetite was as extensive as Tol's, and neither twin could help her with those needs.     “I can speak twelve languages and program vectors from memory,” she said.     The twins exchanged a shrug. True but not enough to put up with her potential nagging.     “I can cook,” she added.     Sae said, “You're on, but there are no fringe benefits.” He waggled his penis at her.     “No problem, we'll hire a Thera.” The group all laughed, except Kemi who had no breath to spare. Daro had reached her inner thighs and with a feather light touch had, so far, managed not to trigger the chastity belt.     “Grab her hands, Tol.” Daro said. Kemi, thus restrained, wouldn't set off the device by accident as she sought to bring on her own orgasm. They hadn't quite figured out the sequence in the activation process but had eliminated some obvious things.     Tol whispered something in her ear and she squeaked. He continued his whisperings and her writhing increased. Almost there. Nova strained toward it with her, but something activated the chastity belt and a warning jolt knocked Daro on his ass. They heard an audible click as the force field engaged. Kemi sobbed and Tol cuddled her upper body avoiding the still glowing neural field.     Daro resumed the traditional massage starting just above the dimples on Kemi's back.     “Respirations,” Nova said. “Heartbeat and body temp. Does it trigger when you have wet dreams?”     Kemi recovered enough to blush. “I never…” The others booed and made phtt sounds until she nodded.     “How the fuck are we supposed to beat that?” Tol said in disgust.     Masa said from the edge of the float, “The fuck is not supposed to beat that.”     The twins laughed. Daro grinned. Kemi blushed and cuddled happily into Tol's chest. Nova suddenly knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, why Tol and Kemi were grouped together. Someday Tol would not only beat the belt, but also own the key. In the meantime, he would learn a great deal about her preferences.     Nova, sandwiched between Sae and Bae, waited until Masa resurfaced and gave her the come-hither look. Sae (or Bae, no difference — physically — anyway) rubbed against her rump, and Bae pushed his erection between her legs. Both kissed whatever parts they could reach, of her and each other. She eased from her place, not really missed as the activity continued unabated without her.     As Nova shimmied into the lake Daro glanced over and smiled his pretty smile. Tol was propped on one elbow, watching the masseuse's progress and occasionally kissing the Belsidea girl. His hard had subsided a bit, but twitched as Kemi made her little noises of contentment.     The water felt like satin and Masa glided between Nova's thighs. The bubbles of the dark one's exhaled breath tickled and burbled up the front of Nova's body. Long-fingered hands gathered the sun-child's breast with a delicate squeeze.     Masa would sometimes come from an unexpected direction and caress her in passing. This time Masa simply surfaced and tucked herself around Nova's backside.     “Why are you here, Sunny?” Masa murmured in Nova's ear.     Nova leaned back into the buoyant form and let the clever hands explore. “Do you want Daro or Tol?” she asked, attempting to distract the other from the question. “Or both?”     “I heard that,” Tol said, rubbing Kemi's shoulders while Daro and one of the twins (Bae probably) dictated the day's work into a wrist-pad. “Are you inferring inadequacy in my performance?” He laughed, completely confident — another Belsidea male trait.     Masa nibbled Nova's earlobe and played with her suddenly tight nipples. “Shall I tell you why I think you're here?”     Nova found the energy to nod but Masa didn't enlighten her. The soft hands continued to tease and probe, finding erotic buttons in odd places. In a sort of fugue, Nova heard Kemi dismiss Tol. Moments later he was before her, letting Masa hold them both afloat, while he slipped between Nova's wet-on-wet thighs, driving philosophy from her mind as he filled her body. Masa helped Tol's efforts, kneading and pinching, and pushing those odd buttons of pleasure.     Knowing her untrained strength to be perilous, even to these superbly fit younglings, Nova forced her hands float in the water at her side and let her friends do the active work. When she couldn't stand her empty arms any longer she hugged herself tightly, unwilling to chance harming either of the people who strove to please her.     “Who needs a Thera?” Masa whispered. “We've got Tol.” She stretched her dark arms over the end of a raft and held Nova and Tol with her incredibly long legs. She flexed her calves as he stroked — adding her strength to the big Belsidea's thrusts. The pounding almost satisfied the growing hunger.     Daro's familiar face appeared in her field of vision and finally she had a safe place to anchor her hands. He could withstand a little rough handling, so Nova clung to him as she reached for and obtained joy. Tol really was amazingly gifted, Daro kissed nice, and Masa knew everything else.     She heard Kemi say, “Now Tol,” and so it was.     “Why?” Nova asked, once again floating with Masa, feeling happily used and terrifically abused and oh-so-exhausted. The Dancer's tall frame wrapped around the Velorian's and kept them both gliding smoothly through the dark-jade water.     Embryonic, safe and loved, Nova closed her eyes and let the sensation linger.     Masa's lips tickled as she spoke, “To learn how to love us and for us to love you.”     Nova's barometer for judging accuracy knew the answer to be correct. * * * * * Buy the entire book@: eBookad or Fictionwise