The Tower and the Hive (6 page)

Ah ah ah!
Kincaid Dano said, with a mental image of a wagging finger. He grinned across the way at Laria as they both sat up on their Tower couches and stretched against the long session.

“I don't feel like a mule,” Laria said, rotating her shoulder blades and rubbing her neck. “I feel like I've been kicked by one.”

Kincaid swung his long legs over the edge of his couch and, with equally long arms, reached across the narrow space and began to massage her neck, his strong fingers sensitively touching just the right spot. Laria let her head hang and murmured appreciatively.

Van's a damned fool,
Kincaid said on a tight link with her.

Leave it, Dano,
Laria said.

Why should I?
the T-2 asked.
For all he's one of the best Tower engineers, he's an aggravation.

Do I sound aggravated?
Laria asked.

Patient is what you sound and you're too good for him.
He gave her a final hard rub, nearly sliding her off the smooth surface of her couch. He caught her body with a mental block and she couldn't help but giggle.
That's better.

He's handy,
she said with a shrug.

It's the thought of a T-1 in his bed that depresses him,
Laria said, and sighed.

Very, very deeply, Laria thought that Kincaid was in an even more attractive package, but his preference lay with his own sex. Meanwhile that didn't interfere with their understanding each other as perfectly as she could have wished Van and she did.

“Which idiot was it that said once we've got the last sphere, work'll slack off?” Lionasha asked, as Laria and Kincaid descended the short flight of steps from the cupola above the station building that acted as a Tower.

“Wasn't me,” Kincaid said, making for the cold drinks cabinet. “What'll you have, Laria, with your electrolytes?” he asked.

“Do we still have any of that real old-fashioned lemonade flavor?”

“We do.” Kincaid 'ported her a nice cold flask, grinning as she deftly caught it in her open hand. “Not a drop spilled either.”

Vanteer joined them from the lower level that housed the great generators needed for Talent gestalt. He was wiping his hands on a greasy cloth.

“I need a beer,” he said, and 'ported one without quite the same deftness as the others used. He shot them a look as he peeled off the cap. “Number three needs servicing. I had to rev it manually during the last three 'ports.”

“Will it be down long?” Laria asked.

Lionasha also looked apprehensive. “We've the same schedule for tomorrow, you know.”

“So you told me. I'll have it up and running sweetly by tomorrow when it's needed,” he said, turning to retrace his steps, “even if I have to work all night.”

Lionasha looked from Laria to Kincaid and rolled her tawny eyes.

Keep a lid on it, Lio,
Laria said, aiming the thought at the Tower expediter, whose eyes matched her hair, set off by a skin that took Clarf's sun well.

Kincaid gave a low snort.
Likes to rub it in, doesn't he!

You too, Dano.
Laria glared at the T-2.

Lionasha returned to her desk, shaking her head, and began checking the next day's schedule on her screen.

We're a good team. Let's never forget that,
Laria said. “I'm going swimming.”

“You'll fry,” both Lionasha and Kincaid told her.

She held up sun-browned arms, as dark as acorn hulls, and laughed. “I've sunblock. I need the exercise.”

WE COME TOO, cried her 'Dinis, just entering the Tower from the landing field.

Kincaid stretched, yawned. “I'm for a nap, frankly.” His 'Dinis, who arrived on Laria's heels, vehemently agreed, all three sauntering down the cool hall to their quarters.

She went to her room and changed into her swim togs, struggled into the long caftan that would also be a protection against Clarf's late-afternoon sun. Tip and Huf rummaged to find pads to lie on and the umbrella that Laria wisely carried to shield herself from the sun at the swim place.

“Have fun,” Lionasha said as she watched the three of them file out the door.

Halfway there in her ground car, her caftan clinging to her sweating body, Laria wondered why under any sun she was doing this now. She could have waited until sunset, when the air was less humid and Clarf's primary was not shining directly in her eyes, as it was now that she was heading west. If Vanteer was going to work on the generator, she couldn't remain in the Tower premises, especially after Kincaid's remarks.

She knew Van had acquired another girlfriend: a chemical analyst just in from Betelgeuse on a three-month assignment. That was a long enough stay for most Humans who came from colder Human planets. They might exude joy over a world that rarely had any rain; when they had to endure the constant heat and humidity night and day, the novelty soon wore off. An unlucky minority would prove to be allergic to the harsh rays and have to be transferred, to the annoyance of their contractors, Human or 'Dini. Meanwhile, there was no point in trying to get Van's attention: this Marjolee Hess-Tukin monopolized him. Laria had seen her at the very party where Van first met her: a pretty little woman, Laria admitted impartially, with long eyelashes, which she used to good effect on any male. Ironically, it was because Vanteer was Talented and part of the Clarf Tower staff that he was such a conquest for Marjolee. Doubtless one of the other, less tactful females who had also been wooed by Vanteer would warn the girl of his fickle nature. Laria had come to the reluctant conclusion that Van couldn't resist the challenge of a new female to be courted and won. He required diversity. And the way he kept up with the demands made on him by his other women—he had once sworn to Laria that he loved her to the exclusion of any other woman he'd ever known—astounded his colleagues in the Tower.

“How does he do it?” Lionasha often remarked when Van had lured yet another girl into his bed.

“I know plenty of men who'd like to know,” Kincaid had replied, grinning. “Of both inclinations,” he'd added with a droll smile.

Whatever, Laria needed to get out of the Tower. She thought wistfully of cool, dark-sun Iota Aurigae and home: with the wild wind and the mountains, and riding Saki to hunt scurriers and avians. But now was not the time to ask for home leave.

One of the four planets that Kincaid had discovered of those he had probed on his unhappy stint in Squadron D on the Galaxy-class
Valparaiso
had been named Talavera, following the nineteenth-century naming of his other three M-type finds: Marengo, Waterloo and Ciudad Rodrigo. Its primary was not quite as fierce as Clarf's but would certainly suit 'Dinis better than Humans. With so few dying in combat against the Hivers, all five worlds were bursting with candidates willing to undertake the immense task of colonizing, even if it meant heavy ecological work. No birth control methods existed for the 'Dini species. Indeed, their prolificacy had been an advantage during their two hundred years of fighting the spheres. They could “lose” suicide crews, knowing that others of the same genetic pattern would be born in the hibernatories at some later date. Such a “reincarnation” allowed the 'Dinis, if it became necessary, to sacrifice themselves willingly. This was, of course, a fundamental difference between them and Humans, who did not waste their space personnel. Fortunately, Mrdini High Command and all its Councillors were aware of this major psychological difference between the two species, or the mind-set might have caused an insuperable schism. The difference occasionally caused trouble on mixed-species crew ships despite continued lectures on the subject.

Ironically, the Mrdini race had originally been attracted to the Humans because they had witnessed the seemingly effortless destruction of the first Hiver sphere to approach Human space at Deneb, when the Mind Merge of the Rowan and all female Talents had paralyzed the Hiver queens and the male Mind Merge of Jeff had sent their sphere into Deneb's sun.

The 'Dinis had come to the point where, with dwindling resources, they were hard pressed to continue their defense against the spheres. So they had used “dreams” to make contact with Humans—with Laria's mother and father, Damia and Afra, recuperating on Deneb from Larak's tragic death and their exhaustion in battling the mental entity Sodan. An Alliance had been promulgated between Human and Mrdini. Now, if suitable worlds could reduce the population density on the five 'Dini homeworlds, much of the growing dissatisfaction on the 'Dini half of the Alliance would be eased.

Laria reached the river swimming facility before the place became crowded. 'Dinis liked water sports. Though sun-warmed, the water was noticeably cooler—since the current was swift—and Laria sank gratefully into it up to her neck. Tip handed her one of the rope harnesses that the wise swimmer looped around the arms. She let her body be carried flat out to the length of the rope by the current. The river flowed over her in a rippling massage. Tip and Huf joined her, their furry bodies silkily touching hers now and then in the current. Letting herself relax with her head back, Laria closed her eyes. She was facing east so that the sun was no longer in her face. Tip and Huf gurgled happily, and there they remained until the Clarf sun with its customary abruptness sank below the distant hills and darkness spread across the deep plain, with its thousands of 'Dini dwellings and the occasional lump of a hibernatory.

As soon as Laria heard the revving of other ground cars, the put-put of individual fliers approaching the riverbank and the chatter of 'Dini tongues, she flipped over and began to pull herself, hand over hand, to the bank. Shucking off the harness, she swam vigorously to the slanted permacrete lip that assisted entry and exit. Almost before she reached her car, Tip and Huf dancing beside her, totally refreshed by the swim, her skin and her suit were dry. But the water had been therapeutic. She made a private wager that Vanteer would have finished the servicing and would be gone when she returned to the Tower.

She won.

Lionasha had left a note saying she was dining with friends in the Human Compound, lavishly air-conditioned. Lio had a new male interest. Kincaid was probably still asleep, but he was always a restful and undemanding companion.

 

Laria woke in the night, gasping with panic, her heart pounding against her ribs, her 'Dinis twitching in their sleep and mumbling. She had been caught in their dream and it had been ... What had it been? Terrifying? No. But charged ... heavy with emotion and an odd “dead” smell.

“Laria?” Kincaid 'ported into her room, striding to her bedside and gathering her up in an anxious embrace. “What is it? What's the trouble?”

She clung to his bare arms, her head against his chest, struggling with the aftermath of such intense sensations, gasping for breath.

“Easy now, easy now,” he said as he stroked tangled hair back from her face, his hands gentle. “‘Dini dream?”

She nodded.

“Are they due for hibernation?” he asked.

Tip and Huf were flapping at her side in whatever dream still held them.

“Possibly,” she said, and knew that had to be part of the problem. Humans might not know how 'Dinis mated—the hibernatories were off limits and even 'Dinis did not mention what went on—but sometimes, when her pair were close to that part of their life cycle, their dreams could be extremely erotic. Her own frustration had magnified the intensity of their dreams and she had been frightened by her own response. That was what had wakened her. “They usually know and tell me.”

Kincaid pulled her closer, holding her against him, soothing her with soft touches and a wave of mental consolation. It felt so good to be held—a thought she kept very, very tight. Good to be held by Kincaid. That rider startled her, and her panicky breathing under control, she started to push away from him. His hands resisted.

“I offer myself, Laria,” he said softly in her ear. “You
need
someone right now and I am here.” He gave a soft, self-deprecating laugh.

She gripped his arm, unable to answer yet desperately wanting to agree.

“You offered me friendship, dear Laria, when I needed it desperately. Why may I not assuage your need now?”

She could feel his mind touching hers, lightly at first, then stressing his remarkable offer, as his arms folded her more closely to him. She could not deny the honesty of his gesture. She most certainly could not deny her need of relief.

“Admittedly I'd be a virgin sacrifice.” The laughter in his voice found an amused response in her. “But I like you better than any other woman I have ever met. And I am not the least bit intimidated by you being a Prime.” He kissed her forehead and then held her away from him, seeking her eyes in the darkness as his mind sought hers on a deeper level. She did not resist. “After all, it's much the same with either partner.” His mouth curled in an ironic smile. “Shall we see if we can make it together?”

She opened her mind completely and felt within him the desire to console, the respect and admiration he had for her and a suddenly fierce yearning for sexual release.

I am honored,
she said.

Gently he pushed her backward onto the rumpled bed, stretching his long self beside her, and then pulled her tightly against him, one arm about her shoulders, the other fondling her bare body. She let down all mental and physical barriers, felt him do the same, saw all that had troubled him before he came to Clarf Tower, and was shaken by an incredibly powerful desire to erase such devastating memories with a selfless abandon to the growing passion that Kincaid's deft lovemaking roused in her.