Authors: Maxine McArthur
Bill, whom I’d been kissing when Veatch interrupted.
This is not a good time to begin a liaison. Neither of us knows where we’ll be tomorrow, let alone in the months to come. Henoit’s presence is getting stronger every time I touch Bill, and we’ve got so many other things to worry about.
“Activate privacy lock,” I said to the air. The interface beeped acknowledgment.
I half turned to see Murdoch’s expression moving from astonishment to careful interest.
“Bill, do you think...”
this is a good idea,
was what I’d been going to say, but then he reached up to the back of my neck and stroked gently. An invitation. His other hand was cupped around my outer thigh. It moved slowly inward.
I couldn’t finish what I was going to say because my breath was gone. When I gasped to get it back, my arms were around Murdoch’s chest and my lips were on his.
Later, I curled with my back against Murdoch’s warm bulk and watched the unchanging night light of the station stain the room blue.
We knew each other so well, except in this. I hadn’t expected him to be a gentle, inventive lover and he had obviously not expected... my responses. Which were partly a response to Henoit. Not that Murdoch knew that. He saw only the effect, as if I were responding to him alone.
Do you feel as I feel?
Henoit had whispered in the ear of my mind. His touch brought something out of me to the surface of my skin to meet him. For the space of a heartbeat or the length of an orgasm I did feel how Henoit felt, see the same way he saw. In that space I was part of a consciousness not mine, not human. I could never describe it; we have no frame of reference for getting into another’s skin.
It wasn’t fair to Murdoch, because when I held him tight and pitched into pleasure I was holding Henoit’s hot, dry skin and feeling his breath in mine. And for that second I wanted it to be Henoit.
Why couldn’t Henoit leave me alone? But, oh dear, it is hard to resist such... I wriggled in the bed, still smelling Henoit’s scent, still half immersed in his voice.
It wasn’t that he had possessed some exotic alien appendage that could be used to drive humans to extremes of arousal, as popular entertainment depicted. The mechanics of H’digh reproduction are fairly androgynous, like their appearance, and practical rather than exciting—a species in which most females conceive only once in their lives has to have evolved methods of making sure that conception occurs.
When I lay with Henoit, the quality of arousal for me had come firstly from the pheromones, which turned my whole body into a kind of tuning fork for pleasure, and secondly from the accuracy of his touch. Perhaps because, as bonded partners, he was inside me mentally and could feel what I felt, and adjust his touch accordingly.
But I never thought it would happen when I was with someone else. Murdoch’s every caress, every shiver of our arousal, every touch of hot skin in the here and now, had an extra dimension. As though I was feeling with two sets of senses.
I rolled over and stretched myself full length along his side. Reached over and anchored my hand across his chest, laid my head beside it. When I shut my eyes to keep out the blue, I could feel his chest rise and fall under my cheek. His heartbeat thudded regularly in my ear, loud enough to drown out other memories.
T
he door buzzed. My eyes stuck together and I tried to force them open, surprised that I’d eventually fallen asleep.
Murdoch half fell out of bed beside me and staggered into the main room. I heard him groan, “It’s 0700. Don’t you ever sleep?”
Murdoch in bed beside me. I rolled over onto the warm space he’d vacated and wriggled my toes there, savoring the strangeness of the feeling, wanting to etch it in memory before it faded to familiarity.
“I work to a Central day,” said Veatch’s voice.
That is, twice as long as we work. Better get up, Halley.
I rolled right over and out of the bed. Fished for the uniform trousers I’d left on the floor the night before. Earlier this morning, rather. At the third try I got them. My depth perception was out, focus too.
“May I come in?” Veatch’s voice went on. “I have some information I think you should know.”
The door swished shut. I pulled on the trousers and did up my shirt, realized it was uneven, refastened it.
When I looked into the main room, Veatch was standing near the door, where he’d stood last night. Murdoch rubbed the sleep out of his eyes beside him.
Veatch’s antennae perked up. “Commander Halley. Considering the urgency of our situation, I felt it best that I should come early.”
“Urgency. Yes.” The strange Tor-Invidi ship, Rupert Stone, and An Barik. A Bendarl voice growling—ConFleet waiting to pounce. Murdoch’s hands on me, reaching...
“Have we got a coffee dispenser in here?” I said. Murdoch yawned hugely and pointed to an alcove on the wall beside one of the chairs. “Allow me,” said Veatch. He stepped over to the alcove and tapped at the dispenser controls.
I went back into the bedroom and shoved my face in the cubicle’s airwash. The mirror in the cubicle was voice-activated and I was careful to say nothing. If I looked half as sleepy as I felt, I didn’t want to see it.
Awake on the outside at least, I reemerged into the main room. It smelled of coffee. Murdoch was hunched over a cup in one chair and Veatch sat on the edge of the chair opposite. Another cup sat on the low table in front of the other chair, beside Murdoch.
The room was artificially lit, as it had been last night, but something in the quality of the light said morning. I sipped at the coffee and things began to slip into place. I must go up to the dock and investigate the ship. We had to know how it worked, and whether it was important enough for An Barik and the other Invidi to risk political embarrassment by breaking Jocasta’s provisional neutrality to take it back.
Veatch straightened his collar. A small gesture, but unusual enough to ring a faint alarm bell. He’d wanted to talk about something last night, but Murdoch and I had been in no condition to listen.
“What do you want to talk about?” I said, too tense for subtlety. “I, er, wish to know the details of your disappearance and arrival,” said Veatch. “It is impossible for me to complete my report without knowing your previous whereabouts.”
Murdoch shook his head. “Imagine that, not being able to finish a report for five months. And all I was worried about was whether you were alive.”
I frowned at him. “Veatch, I can’t tell you where I went. Not yet. It involves the Invidi.”
“In what sense...” he began, but Murdoch interrupted.
“You mean finish your report about the
Calypso II
experiment, don’t you?” he said, voice rising slightly. “You must have implemented those orders to transfer the three engineers. When I asked you what happened to the Engineering accounts for June, you didn’t know about it. You didn’t even know who was treasurer at that time. As for the information on Finke’s freighter...” He leaned forward and tapped the table for emphasis. “How about my transfer? You passed that through without query, too, I suppose?”
Veatch drew back slightly. “I have no input into personnel movement orders.”
Murdoch snorted. “You’re station manager, aren’t you? At that stage we didn’t even have an acting head of station, so if you didn’t object, nobody would.”
“Chief Murdoch, you must understand that I am obliged under all circumstances, however personally disconcerting, to observe the protocols of the service.”
I drained my coffee and put the cup down with a clatter louder than I’d intended. Not that I’d ever expected Veatch’s loyalty. Or even his understanding. “So who was it?”
Veatch twitched in my direction. He’d started shuffling his handcoms again. “Who was what?”
“Who gave the orders to hush it all up?”
He hesitated, then laid the handcoms one by one on the table, like someone playing patience with 2-D cards.
“The orders came through Sector Five Division Three,” he said. Sector Five was the branch of the Confederacy bureaucracy that handled affairs of the Nine Worlds. Division Three was Security.
“The orders were...” he paused, then continued delicately, “emphasized by An Barik. His advice was to follow them precisely. I did so.”
Murdoch and I shared a glance. An Barik wanted my experiment with
Calypso II
kept secret. The immediate explanation was if news leaked out that a member of the Nine had used a jump drive, the Four would have to explain how that was possible and why everyone couldn’t do it. The other explanation was that An Barik knew the
Calypso
jump point was off the network and wanted to keep that possibility quiet as well. Why hadn’t Barik simply prevented me from taking
Calypso II?
I supposed, because he needed me to go back to 2023 and set off the chain of events that resulted in the Invidi coming to Earth.
“I’m sure you both agree I could not have done otherwise. Even had I wished it,” he added unexpectedly. “Why should you ‘wish otherwise’?” said Murdoch suspiciously. “What’s in it for you?”
Veatch seemed unembarrassed by the question. “If use of the jump drive becomes more freely available, the status quo in the Confederacy Council may be disturbed. In this scenario, there is some probability that nonaligned worlds such as ourselves may gain economically.”
“And the other probability?” said Murdoch.
“The political upheaval may induce lawless elements, which were previously restrained by the presence of Con-Fleet, to attempt acts of violence.”
Murdoch met my eyes and I remembered his comments the night before.
How’s it going to help any of us right now?
“However,” Veatch continued thoughtfully, “I have considered this matter at length and feel it is highly unlikely that either outcome would prove particularly detrimental for this station and the Abelar system.”
He waited for Murdoch’s impatient “Well?” before continuing, his antennae perked with gratification. “This station is not on the periphery of the Confederacy in any sense other than that of physical distance which, as we all know and appreciate, is of little import in the present transport system which relies on the jump network. In fact, Jocasta’s position close to a point on the jump network places it in as important a position as any other place close to a jump point, whether that be Earth, Chene...” which was one of the main Melot systems, “or Rhuarl, to give random examples.”
“You’re saying if we improve our insystem facilities, we could become a big center in this sector?” said Murdoch unbelievingly.
“But not if we lose the neutrality vote, right?” I said, understanding Veatch’s reasoning. “If the Confederacy keeps control of who goes in and out of the jump point, we’re never going to get the people here who could help set us up as a major sector player.”
“An oversimplification, but I believe that is the gist of the matter,” said Veatch, with nicely calculated condescension. “I do not think the Four Worlds will lose the monopoly over travel within the Confederacy. My experience tells me ConFleet will come and retrieve the ship you brought here, to prevent you from passing on the information. But this in itself will be a destabilizing influence, as it will demonstrate to the Nine Worlds and unaligned worlds that the Four are willing to break their own laws to protect their interests. The likelihood that we will earn enough votes for neutrality is greatly increased.”
“Will any of the Nine support us, do you think?” Murdoch said.
“My casual opinion”—Veatch paused to make sure we realized this didn’t commit him to anything—“is that we may count on support from the Dir, who reject K’Cher monopolies, and the Tell, although it is not clear why. The Neronderon may turn our way—they are unpredictable as yet. Achel possibly, because their new leaders are demonstrating a desire to take leadership among the Nine.”
“None of the Four will vote yes, obviously,” said Murdoch.
“The Bendarl do not like to lose territory. The K’Cher do not like to lose arenas for business. My people are divided on most issues, but generally we support keeping the jump drive confined to use by the Four. And the Invidi...” He paused.
“The Invidi?” I prompted.
“This is difficult to express.” His antennae curled lightly once, then extended again. “The Invidi are like a child who insists on having a potentially dangerous animal for a toy. In my opinion, they are genuinely curious about other species and wish to engage with them on a variety of levels. But when those species begin to act in ways that the Invidi perceive as dangerous or disturbing, the Invidi lose initiative. It is a most curious phenomenon.”
“If you can’t stand the heat, stay out of the reactor,” grunted Murdoch. “Yes, but if it wasn’t for them, we wouldn’t have a reactor,” I reminded him.
“All this talk of Four and Nine,” said Murdoch. “You’re one of them, not us. Why are you betraying your own kind?”
Veatch’s antennae curled momentarily in outrage. His unblinking eyes narrowed. “I am doing nothing of the kind. I merely desire to continue a satisfactory occupation.”
Murdoch and I had speculated after the Seouras occupation ended whether Veatch’s masters in the Confederacy bureaucracy would want him back at Central. It looked like the answer was no.
“You’ll try to run for a top position if we get neutrality, won’t you?” said Murdoch.
“My present position is sufficient and I would like to keep it.” Veatch shifted even farther onto the edge of his chair. “As part of that position, I have business here with you this morning.”
Murdoch yawned, but his eyes were wary. “We’re listening.”
“You are familiar with the trader, Kuvai Trillith?” said Veatch. Murdoch and I both nodded and he continued. “Twenty-five days ago it came to me and asked me if I could assist in a problem of storage. A cargo of high-quality booster fuel, I believe, that exceeded the capacity of Trillith’s own warehouses. Perhaps mistakenly, I agreed to lend it an unused storage bay in Level Eight of the center.”
He paused to check we were following.
“Veatch, at the moment that’s not a priority,” I said.