Terguz had always been that way, a hell of a world with a hell of a way of forgetting its problems. Now men and women drank and talked quietly, uncertainty in their eyes. Probably just like the look in his.
The ceiling had been grimy-dark the first time Will set foot in the place. No one had bothered to wash it since. The sialon bar before him showed nicks and gouges despite the durable nature of the material. A fellow by the name of Vinney had engraved his name on the surface with a vibraknife.
just in the times Will had frequented the Wayside, he'd watched six men and two women toted out on med gurneys-and those were just the dead ones. He couldn't count the number of cuttings, beatings, and other scrapes that had littered the place with wounded. Not that Wayside was a dangerous place, a fellow just got whatever he wanted. If it was a fight, someone would oblige.
If you only wanted a peaceful drink, like he did now, the management would provide that, too. All of Terguz was that way. The Administrator knew how to run a wide open planet.
Will sighed, staring down into his drink. On the walls, pictures of freighters, warships, and stars glowed in holographic splendor. Half the tables in the place were occupied, most of the people talking in low voices.
He could hear melodic laughter as young Lark laughed at someone's joke.
Hell, a man didn't know what to take for a load. From the holo reports, food was the hot item. Anyone willing to space for Imperial Sassa, of all places, could make a killing. And here Will sat, waiting on Terguz with its riches of metals, gasses, and ice-and not a load of food to be had.
"Why didn't I planet on Vermilion?" "Why didn't you?"
The sexy contralto caught him by surprise, and Will turned to stare into the most magnificent amber eyes he'd ever seen. "Mind if I sit down?" she asked.
Blacker's skin prickledwith excitement. He glanced up and down, taking in the tall woman's dress. A thick cape hung from her shoulders, falling straight over the swell of her hips. The brown shift she wore disguised what had to be one hell of a body.
"Be my guest."
She settled athletically beside him. Lustrous auburn hair spilled in a wave over her shoulder. Blacker stared, rapt, at her perfect face.
"I-I'm Will Blacker. From Rega. I'm a freighter."
She smiled, and his heart skipped at the dimples that formed in her smooth skin. "Some of my friends call me Desire. It's a joke, I think."
I'No joke. " He glanced around, aware that several sets of male eyes were casing her out. "Uh, are you with anyone, or by yourself?"
"By myself . . . so far. Just came in from Rega. "I see. You saw the conquest?"
"I did." She said it wryly, a glint in those marvelous eyes. "The Star Butcher did a thorough job."
Will nodded, flustered, cares about the future suddenly on hold. "You spaced here by yourself? No crew?"
" I have a companion." At his crestfallen look, she added, A female companion."
Blacker brightened. "Could 1, uh, buy you a drink? This place has-"
"Whiskey, Ashtan, if they have it."
Will tried to keep his credit chip from trembling as he poked it into the dispenser and punched the right button. :'You alone?" she asked.
'After you showed up, it wouldn't have mattered if I was with an Etarian priestess! I'm as alone as I'll ever get." She lifted a slender eyebrow.
"Thank you for the compliment. "
"What do you do? I mean, you work on a ship? Trade? What? "
. "Suppose I told you I was running." She paused, glancing shyly away.
"Given the change in power . . . well, there are certain people I wouldn't want to have catch up with me. "
At his stunned look, she smiled. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't endanger you. Thank you for the drink. "
He reached out, placing a hand on her arm. "No, that's fine. Stay. I don't care. I mean, listen, maybe I can help." As he stared into those eyes, his soul began to melt. Rotted right, he'd sell his soul to see her look at him that way. Excitement stirred in those amber depths and her lips parted slightly. "I wouldn't want to involve you. Are you sure? "
'No problem. " His pulse had begun to race. "Uh, listen, this isn't the place to be if someone is after you. I'd keep a lower profile."
She glanced about, a wounded doe look in her eyes. "I shouldn't have come in here. I just didn't have any place to go. I thought . . . well . . . "
Blacker tossed off the last of his drink. "Come on. I've got a berth a couple of levels down. Let's . . . go talk it over. That is . . - "
The excitement had returned to her eyes. "I don't mind. In fact, I'd be very grateful." Her hand slipped over his,
her touch warm, inviting. "Perhaps I could make it worth your while. I'm not without means to repay your kindness.,"
Blacker swallowed hard, aware of how her high breast§ pressed at the material of her dress. He had problems finding his voice. "Glad to help." Blessed Gods, woman, for a moment alone with you, I d trade my soul!
He barely remembered walking out of the Wayside, a thrill possessing him as all eyes followed. Blessed Gods, maybe Terguz had been one of the luckiest moves he'd ever made. They walked in silence, Blacker sneaking glances at her, reassuring himself that she wasn't just a dream.
He'd rented a room on F Level. Placing his chip into the slot, he led her into the cramped quarters. "It's not much. If you need, I can hide you in the ship."
She smiled as he closed the door. With a sultry move, she slipped the heavy cape from her shoulders, and Blacker manfully kept from gaping.
Desire walked toward him, placing both of her hands on his shoulders. "Thank you, Will. I've been looking for someone like you."
She leaned forward, kissing him gently on the lips. Dazed, he leaned into her, returning her kiss, passion growing. "Are you sure you . . . "
"We'll discuss my situation later," she whispered. "For now, let me show you my appreciation. You won't regret it. " -
Any reservations Will Blacker might have had vanished as her slim fingers began to unfasten his shirt.
The bed squeaked as Arta F6ra rolled onto her back, eyes dreamy, a smile on her full lips. She stared at the uniform white ceiling tiles in satisfaction and licked her lips. The salty taste of blood mixed with pungent flavor of ejaculate. She stood and stretched like a tiger before stepping into the narrow shower. From head to foot, Arta scrubbed herself. She opened her mouth to the spray and spit to clean it. Being cheap quarters, no drying field awaited her. Instead, simple towels hung on a rack. As she wiped the last of the water from her glowing flesh, she took a deep breath, looking at the man on the fluid-stained bed.
She picked her dress up from where it had been flung on the floor and pulled it over her head, flipping her wet hair free. Then she pinned the cloak at her neck.
The room did have a comm. Arta input a number. Ily's face formed on the monitor, "Everything all right?"
Arta gave her a flushed grin. "Just like plucking plums from a tree. Victory is ours. We have a ship."
" I'll have Gyper send Leon and Vymar down. They'll handle the body with discretion."
Arta glanced over her shoulder., "They'd better bring a mop. "
Ily winced. "Arta, in the future, don't play with them. Just kill them."
I
The gleam brightened in Arta's eyes. "But it s so exciting to play with them.
He died in ecstasy."
The old familiar nightmare had invaded Staffa's sleep. The souls of the dead chased him through a blasted starship. He ran and ran, hounded by the hissing, moaning mob, until an explosion impaled him on torn metal. There, with freezing steel slicing through his guts and piercing his stretched skin, they cornered him, reaching out with taloned fingers to feed on his soul.
He had come awake to the old familiar shakes. This time, however, no Skyla waited to hug him, to stroke his head as he drifted back toward oblivion.
Staffa sat up, staring around his sleeping quarters He rubbed his eyes with a callused hand and went to stare at the p
ersonal articles left on the counter. Skyla's jeweled brush rested in the same spot she'd left it. Strands of hair glistened, silver in the light. Lifting the brush to his nose, Staffa closed his eyes, inhaling the faint ghost of her scent.
Epaulet clips lay in a neat row, the jewels sparkling. Staffa opened the wardrobe where her snowy white armor hung in immaculate rows. His own gray suits had been pulled straight, tucked efficiently into their holders. The room echoed her presence, everything in its place. No detail overlooked.
How different that old Skyla had been from the haunted woman he'd walked out of the hospital with. That Skyla had
been brittle, like supercooled crystal, ready to shatter at the next instant.
Fool, you should have known She'd run.
The lonely echo of defeat rang hollowly within. His fingers trembled as he stroked the cool fabric of her suits. He knew the physiological effects her trauma induced. Depression and feelings of inadequacy induced a chemical overload of cortisols, acetylcholines, beta-endorphines, and other chemicals.
The brain, desperate to reestablish normalcy, adopted any strategy to gratify that need, often creating new neural pathways, or accessing old, inapplicable paths to superimpose a "new" reality, but one based on false assumptions.
He himself had barely survived such an experience. Had it not been for random chance, and the concern of a few heroic and outstanding individuals like Kaylla Dawn, his corpse would have been rotting on Etaria.
Skyla had played a very important role in his survival. She'd worked behind the scenes, manipulating events, risking her life to rescue him from his own folly.
When you needed me, Skyla, I wasn't there. Would it have hurt to miss one of those planning meetings? Would it have precipitated disaster had he delegated more to Tap or Tasha? Would Chrysla have left? Would Anatolia be alive-or the rest of his people killed in the explosion?
"I don't know ' Skyla. But maybe you'd be here, safe, and I could tell you how sorry I am.
The stack of reports under Chrysla's arm refused to stay in place as she walked down the corridor. The flimsies kept slipping. In defeat, she clamped them with two hands, pausing before Mac's hatch. The Regans hadn't designed their ships for luxury and the narrow corridor, crowded with overhead cables, could have been brighter.
She had finished the reports in her quarters, taking the liberty of okaying the duty rosters for First Section. In addition, she'd applied herself to the study of Ashtan. A great deal had changed since the days of her youth.
Imperial Rega had instituted computer controls for most government administration. The Ashtan of her youth, rich and carefree, had vanished beneath the Regan boot.
Would she recognize her home world? Did anything remain of her youth? From the historical files, she had accessed the names of government officials. Now, all she had to do was convince Mac that it would be worth reappointing those individuals to power. If enough of that reserve of experience remained, perhaps they could cobble together a makeshift government competent to stabilize the planet. "Mac? It's Chrysla. "
The door comm remained silent. Despite the hour, MacRuder must have been on duty.
Hesitantly, she reached up and palmed the lock plate. Mac had recalibrated it for her. As the hatch slipped open, she stepped inside, surprised to see Mac canted back in the desk chair.
His neck had craned into the most uncomfortable position, his deep breathing sounded strained. Walking silently, Chrysla placed the flimsies on the corner of his desk, debating on whether to wake him.
She turned, catching sight of the holo. Three starving children stared out at her. The scene changed, revealing a night sky blackened by clouds. Corpses had been piled like stacked wood, arms and legs akimbo. People scampered in the darkness, stopping to saw bits of flesh from the bones.
The scene changed again, to that of freezing people huddled in the snow.
Rudimentary shelters had been formed for some protection. Chrysla raised a hand to her mouth, realizing that this was no refugee camp, but an alleged hospital. The holo zoomed in on one corpse, snow blanketing the dead eyes.
The scene changed again, depicting a street fight. Men armed with clubs attacked a woman who ran through the street, a bundle clutched to her chest.
She fell beneath the attackers, flailing with fists and feet as they viciously clubbed her unconscious, prying the bundle from her arms. Then they turned on each other, spilling the contents, four loaves of bread, into the foul mud.
Immediately, armed troops appeared from the side, dispersing them, collecting the dirt-encrusted bread and rendering aid to the woman.
Scene after scene flashed on the holo, the projection looped until the three haunting children stared out.
Mac made a hideous whimpering sound, beads of sweat forming on his slack face.
"Rotted Gods," Chrysla whispered, reaching over to kill the display. She took a deep breath, noting the name of the file:
SEDDI REPORT TWELVE DISPATCHED FROM IMPERIAL SASSA 5780:2:13:05:00.
Mac made another mewing sound as he flipped his head around.
Chrysla set her jaw, walking around the desk. "Mac? Mac, wake up."
MacRuder moaned, the word "no" muttered under his breath.
"Mac!" Chrysla shook him and jumped back when he cried out and jerked upright, almost upsetting the chair. Mac blinked, catching his breath. "What?"
"Bad dream. It looked like a nightmare." She tilted her head toward the wall holo. "Did you fall asleep watching that? "
Mac groaned, stretched, and rubbed his neck as he looked up at her through bleary eyes. "Report in from Imperial Sassa. "
"I gathered that."
Mac sighed, bowing his head. "I'm all right. What's up?" She studied him pensively. "I brought the day reports. I called. When you didn't answer, I thought you might have been on duty."
He growled to himself, grabbing up the stack she'd indicated, sorting through the flimsies. "They look fine. Thanks.
Chrysla hesitated. "Mac, you can't blame yourself. You and Staffa, you're torturing yourselves to death. Trust me, I know what I'm talking about.
Dwelling on war leads you to self-destruction."
He didn't look up. "It's one thing to plot an action. Another to carry it out from space." He paused. "And still another to look into the faces of your victims. "
She reached down and took his hand, pulling him up. "Come on. You're going to lie down on a real bed and get some real sleep."
He smiled sheepishly. "And my dreams will be better in a bunk than in a chair?
Optimistic, aren't you?"
She pushed him down, bending to unsnap his boots and set them to the side. She looked up at him, aware that for the first time, even his attraction to her had been eclipsed. "Will you try to sleep?"
He nodded agreement; but she read the truth in his eyes. , ,Take your belt off. Sleeping on a blaster isn't conducive to rest." She paused.- "And while you're at it, slip out of that armor, too. I know you guys live in it, but for once, I want you comfortable. "
He raised a wry eyebrow. "Undress? Right here in front of you? "
' 'You've got an undersuit on beneath that, don't you? She stood and crossed her arms. "I'll look the other way. Besides, I don't think you've got anything I haven't seen before. "
She stepped over to the dispenser and drew a bulb of stassa. By the time she turned, he'd undressed, hung his suit, according to regulation, and pulled the blanket over him.
Chrysla pulled one of the collapsible chairs out of the wall and settled herself. Mac watched uneasily.
Chrysla sipped the hot liquid. "I've been there, Mac. Lived it. When I escaped thePylos, the pod malfunctioned. I landed harder than I should have. It was in a mountainous region. My leg was broken. I crawled for a couple of kilometers until I found a cabin. The people who owned it ran goats, barely eked out a living. They set my leg as best they could.
"The weather turned because of the smoke. So much soot gets into the air when entire cities burn
. All of their goats froze to death in the snow. It was supposed to be summer on that hemisphere.
' 'I'd only been there a week when they went out into the snow to try and save as many animals as they could. They never came back. Didn't dress well enough, I suppose. I healed, made crutches, and ate the last of their food. After that, I made my way to the nearest city. Most of the particulate matter thrown up is heavy and precipitates. That trip was plenty cold, but I made it.
"I saw scenes like that. Did what I could to survive." She shook her head.
"Some of the things I ate. Well, survival does that. Fortunately, I had enough training to know where to go, what to say." She gave him a stony glance.,
"When that didn't work, I sold myself.'
Mac bit his lip, eyes closed.
"I made it. " Chrysla lifted the bulb to her lips. "I could have told you what would happen. I might even have made you feel so bad, it could have jeopardized the mission. Don't look at me that way, I could have used my sexuality, convinced you. "
"But you didn't."
She shook her head. "You offered me a chance. Safety. Survival. Besides, I respected you and I wanted your respect. "
"You've got it-and more."
"I want you to think about this. You're a soldier, Mac. How would you have felt if you had failed to neutralize Sassa's threat? They were massing their force to hit the Regan Empire. Divine Sassa had turned down Staffa's peace plan. Seriously, if you had to do it all over again, knowing only what you knew then, would you have done anything differently? "
He sighed heavily. "No. I suppose not. In all honesty, I'd maximize our chance to make it out alive."
"We all do what we have to. That's the glory and curse of being human."
"Condemned to be what we are." Mac twisted.anxiously on the bedding.
"Close your eyes. I want you to try something for me." "All right."
"We're on a lake, a placid blue lake. You and I are in a boat. The waves rock us gently, while overhead is a blue sky, filled with puffy white clouds. Nod if you can imagine it. "
Mac nodded.
"The sun is shining brightly, a warm breeze blowing over the water. All around the lake are mountains, each covered with trees. If you sniff, you can catch the delicate fragrance of pines. The boat continues to rock, so gently, following each of the swells. So tranquil. So gentle. "