Moondust And Madness

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by Taylor, Janelle


  Today, Jana had been a captive for ten days. She eyed her daily schedule, which listed her second group dinner, along with dance lessons in the Stardust Room, whatever that was. Jana tensed at the thought of such close contact with the male crew members.

  Midmorning, Martella led Jana to the library on a lower deck. She wondered why she was the only captive present. She listened attentively as an instructor expounded on their government. Martella interspliced facts about their geography. Jana was shown graphs, slides, and pictures to aid her understanding. At noon, the man left the women alone.

  As they discussed history, Jana decided to press Martella who, she realized, sympathized with the captives’ plight. “What about the women who are sold to men who will abuse them?” Jana asked. “Have they no rights to happiness and safety, to honor and pride? What about their resale? Doesn’t this passing around of a mate lessen her value in the eyes of your people and in her own eyes? No matter how good or pampered these lives are, it’s still evil and wrong. You speak as an observer only, Martella. I wonder how different your opinion would be if you were in my place and I in yours.”

  “You are very intelligent, Jana, and I agree with you, but it changes nothing,” she admitted. “I’m trying to encourage the Supreme Council to make needed changes in our charl laws. In fact, I hope to persuade them to abolish this practice. But such grave matters take time. I would like you to know it will be intelligent, superior charls like you, Jana, who will influence those decisions. Prove you are worthy to become a citizen, to marry your owner. Show your courage, wits, and strength. Don’t let your actions shout bitterness, hatred, disrespect. Don’t appear a threat or an enemy, Jana; appear a friend and evoke the promise of a better future for all. I will be honest with you; others don’t agree with me yet, and get angry when it’s discussed.”

  Jana knew it was foolish to provoke brutal punishment or torture or death. For the moment, it was best to use her “courage, wits, and strength” to stay alive until she decided how to end this slavery. There must be a path to freedom, and she would find it! She would not allow herself to be a victim or coward, at least no longer than necessary to weather this current storm! Whatever happened, she must endure with dignity. People often faced crises beyond their control; she must not allow this one to destroy her!

  After lunch, the remainder of their time together was spent informing Jana of the various laws and rules of conduct which she would be expected to practice. She was given a short break and told to wait for an escort to Nigel’s science laboratory on another deck of the ship.

  After Martella left, Jana wandered around the large room. Despite technological and scientific advances, this location proved that man still loved to read books. Jana fingered several volumes, suddenly eager to begin her lessons in their language, which oddly was not listed as a requirement. Jana surmised it was because of the audiotranslators which interpreted any language it received.

  A door had swished open. Jana assumed it was Nigel or her escort. Before she could step into view, Varian’s voice prevented it. Jana didn’t want to see him in private, he was too beguiling. She anxiously waited for him to leave and prayed he wouldn’t discover her presence.

  “Since when did you develop an interest in medical science?” Tristan teased the scowling man at his side. He retrieved a book at the far end of the library and handed it to Varian. “This should answer all of your questions.”

  “Wipe that grin off your face, Tris, or I’ll demote you for disrespect,” Varian jested. “You know what I’m seeking, so change the subject.”

  Tristan changed the topic to another disturbing one. “Why don’t you tell Jana the truth about Sylva and the scarfelli? With her scientific brain, you know what she’s thinking. Have you seen her since then?”

  Varian frowned, then shook his head. “You expect me to tell her it was only a simulation? That sweet Sylva is actually confined to solitary in the security brig? No way. That little ruse worked perfectly. I have those women right where I need them—full of respect and minus defiance.”

  Tristan argued. “But it isn’t necessary to make Jana despise you and fear you. Tell her the truth; it’ll help her,” he urged compassionately.

  “Thanks to you and Martella, she’s receiving plenty of special treatment. I would lose all power and control if these captives learned the truth, and don’t think kind-hearted Jana wouldn’t delight in telling them. You didn’t see the way she was looking at me after that spectacle. I’d never convince her Sylva is just fine unless I take her to the brig. You know what Jana and everyone else will think if I keep showing her favoritism. They’ll get the wrong idea, Tris, especially Jana. She’s already shown too much attraction to me. An infatuation for me could spoil her new life.”

  “You’re wrong, Varian,” Tristan protested softly. “She can be trusted.”

  “Am I? You, Martella, and Nigel all think she’s superior and unique. I’ve done as you three asked, I’ve allowed her extra attention and privileges. If I’m any more lenient, she won’t respect my authority at all. Don’t you dare tell her the truth about scarfelli, or Sylva.”

  Tristan was concerned over Varian’s obstinate attitude. “If she could read our language or if she asked any of our people about those large spiders, she’d learn they don’t kill or eat people. She’d learn those scarfelli were trained for alien terror tactics. Why are you so worried? Have you ever known me to disobey orders?”

  “Of course not. But there’s something about Jana Greyson which affects my crew strangely. Not a single one of you dislikes her. It wouldn’t surprise me to discover she’s an alien witch! Maybe you’d better examine her again,” Varian hinted roguishly, then winked.

  “If you stop being mean, she’ll settle down,” Tristan suggested merrily.

  “No, it’s best for both of us if Jana paints me an evil black,” Varian said, chuckling wickedly.

  Tristan grasped his underlying meaning. “Has that black image of yours ever discouraged any woman?” Tristan challenged, winking at his friend. “Surely you’re not missing Canissia Garthon? She’s worse than her father, Supreme Councilman Segall. I surely do wish those seats weren’t for life.”

  “I’ll handle Cass when I get home. As for Jana Greyson, the kindest thing I can do for her is to prevent any affection or delusions about me.”

  “And what makes you think she has either?” Tristan quipped.

  “Let’s just say I’m generously preventing a new problem from being born,” he remarked, his voice suddenly cold and harsh. “Let’s go. I have work to do.” The door swished twice as they departed.

  When Nigel arrived, he apologized for his tardiness. Pushing aside the puzzling conversation she had overheard between Tristan and Varian, Jana followed him down a long corridor in the gigantic ship. She sat down across from Nigel to begin her science lesson. His words confounded her. In comparison to hers, his race was so advanced that it staggered the human mind. Enthralled by his fascinating talk, she didn’t notice how swiftly the time passed. Jana listened, questioned, and reasoned. She revealed none of the lack of understanding that many of the other women had displayed.

  Caught up in Nigel’s lesson, Jana temporarily forgot her dire circumstances. She laughed easily and relaxed completely with him. “I feel as if I’ve mysteriously stepped into a realm of magic and fantasy. I suppose that sounds silly, doesn’t it?” She laughed in merriment.

  “Where would man be without dreams and visions to encourage him, or his science fiction to disprove or discover? To cease to learn is to cease being interesting, alive, and vital. Avoid that pitfall, Jana. You’re much too rare and special to—” He halted at the astonished expression on her face. “Tell me, Jana,” he asked, to change the topic. “When are we going to finish that Laius match? You’ve sparked my interest in whether or not you can beat me.” His hazel eyes twinkled.

  “Worried about your position as champion?” she teased.

  “Something tells me I should be,” he ans
wered.

  “I’ll make you a deal. Teach me all your tricks and I’ll teach you mine.”

  He chuckled: “Agreed. No competition yet, just training.” His eyes sparkled with intrigue. What a choice mate for some lucky male!

  Jana suggested, “We’ll play our real match the day before I leave. That way, if I do win, you will remain the best on your ship.”

  “You wily female. How very considerate. You think of every angle.”

  “I wouldn’t wish to offend my partner and teacher, now would I?”

  “Beating me would certainly do that,” Nigel jested with a heavy sigh.

  “Answer a question for me, Nigel. Just how big is this starship?”

  “Come in here and I’ll show you.” He walked into an adjoining office and over to the side wall. He pulled down a diagram of the Wanderlust.

  “The ship is constructed in a U-shape with three decks. In this left wing, deck three contains the crew’s quarters, rec rooms, and mess halls; the second deck where we are now contains some of the lower officers’ quarters, sick bay, and the science labs; the first deck above us contains the conference room, the commander’s quarters, the upper officers’ quarters, and our rec rooms and mess hall. The gold room, which is for a high-ranking guest, is here.” He pointed to a suite not far from Varian’s!

  “If it’s for guests, why does it have a camera and no locks?” she probed.

  Nigel didn’t tell her there was a control button beneath the lower edge of the painting over her sofa which caused the picture to move aside to reveal a layout which contained videoaudio communications, a viewer screen comparable to television, a door release switch, and a button to open a side-wall panel to display a large window. It wouldn’t do for Jana to discover that arrangement. He told her what truths he could. “Doors work by voice communication or an electrocard. The camera was installed for this voyage. When we return to base, things will return to normal.”

  “I see, the room was converted to an elegant prison for this special trek?”

  Nigel smiled grimly and went back to his explanation. He pointed to each section as he spoke to her. “The circular foresection contains the bridge, navigations, and communications on deck one. On deck two we have the transporter, security control, and weaponry arsenal. On the lower deck we have the psychology-sociology lab, the history lab, data centers, and the engineering section. We have six docking bays, one located at the far end of each deck. On the first level, there is an emergency jettison pod on each side. On level two, we have a shuttlecraft in each bay. Deck three has takeoff and landing pads for spacers.” He smiled and clarified, “Spacers are swift, agile fighters. Tesla Rilke’s an expert pilot.”

  He inhaled, then went on. “There’s a planetarium bubble above the apex of the bridge for observation and enjoyment. I’ll show it to you. It’s exhilarating to go up there. You feel as if you’re suspended in time and space, like standing in the door to the Universe. You’re a part of the heavens. Sometimes that feeling is awesome.”

  “I’m glad to hear it affects someone else that way,” she remarked.

  Nigel chuckled. “The other wing contains the environmental and life-support units, the brig and security holding rooms, the computer and data-processing departments, and geological and meteorological units on deck three. On deck two we have the library, crew’s quarters, and conference rooms. On deck one we have the monitor control room, conference and activity rooms, the botanical conservatory, and the Stardust Room.”

  “It’s so huge. What are the conservatory and the Stardust Room?”

  “The conservatory is a semiglass-enclosed room where we grow and store plants from all over the galaxy. It’s very beautiful and fragrant in there. The Stardust Room is for dining and dancing. Only the officers and invited guests can enter. The food and view are excellent. You’ll see for yourself.”

  She smiled and nodded agreement. “What’s on the agenda for—” she began, but was interrupted by a call over the telecom.

  “Lieutenant Sanger, is Miss Greyson with you?”

  “Yes, Kyle. She’s right here Do you need her for something?”

  “Sir, she needs to dress for dinner. It’s late. Is there a problem?”

  “Just bad timing, Kyle. We got caught up in our lesson. I lost track of the time. Thanks.”

  “Yes, sir,” the security chief replied and signed off.

  “Seems we’ll have to finish this discussion tomorrow. I had better get you back to your room before they sound a red alert for you.”

  “A red alert?” she echoed as they headed out the door.

  Nigel playfully winked at her. “You know—the sound of stomping boots and clinking weapons as security men hunt you down,” he jested.

  “But I’m with you,” Jana argued lightly.

  “I have to follow the rules and regulations too. I’m only second in command,” Nigel remarked flippantly as he escorted her to her quarters.

  “You would make a good commander,” she told him. He was so likable. They had much in common. Despite her rank, he showed respect for her. Evidently she had Nigel, Martella, and Tristan to thank for her reception and treatment. How could she regard Nigel Sanger as an enemy?

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Nigel said.

  Jana hurried to bathe and dress. Recalling Nigel’s brief description of the Stardust Room, she selected a cream-colored gown dotted with lavender flowers and trimmed with lavender lace and silk ribbons. She secured an amethyst rosette at the hollow of her throat. Jana gathered up her hair and arranged it in leaf-curls, leaving short wispy ringlets to dangle down the nape of her neck. Lovelocks fell softly near her ears.

  As she worked, Jana pondered the mystery and allure of Varian Saar. She couldn’t forget his stirring words and contact at the last dinner, nor the contradiction between the Sylva episode and the library talk. It thrilled her to know that he had not killed or injured Sylva. Varian had mentioned Alex twice and warned her to avoid his men. Was Varian married or attached to “Cass?” Was he rankled by an unbidden attraction to her? Why did Varian want her to believe he was an evil monster? There must be an illuminating clue to this dark mystery which she couldn’t yet perceive.

  The signal for dinner was issued before she finished. When Kyle asked if there was a problem delaying her exit, Jana replied, “Just running late, Kyle. I’ll be ready in a flash. Just keep my door open.”

  “Agreed, if you’ll save me a dance after I finish my watch,” he hinted.

  “Sounds perfect to me. See you later,” she responded merrily. After all, Varian had declared that everyone on board liked and respected her!

  * * *

  Varian wondered if Jana was stalling their next meeting. He had avoided her for days, hoping to give her time to settle down. Maybe he should clear up her misconceptions about Susan. After the Sylva incident, he wondered how Jana would behave tonight. He concluded that a mixture of silk and sword might be best. Her corridor door opened and they nearly collided. Varian teased, “Surely it doesn’t take this long to enhance your looks. Get moving, woman. Your dance instructors are restless.”

  Jana mischievously responded to his mellow mood. She snapped to attention, saluting Varian as she clicked her heels together as if she were a member of Kadim Maal Triloni’s Androas Empire troops. “Yes, sir, slave driver. I’m ready now. I was la—”

  His deep blue eyes narrowed as he heard her seeming mockery. Why did she have to rebel against him? Weren’t this grisly mission and Ryker’s treachery enough trouble without being forced to whip this temptress into line? He would curse Kahala if he did not survive this ravishing creature!

  Irritated, Varian snapped, “Why must you always seek to incur my wrath? Must I crush you into submission? Make an example of you as with Sylva?” His eyes engulfed her face and body. He felt perilous stirrings of desire at the mere sight of her enchanting beauty.

  Jana was confused by his quicksilver mood and sudden show of temper: the dark spirits which plagu
ed him. “I’m hurrying, Commander. Nigel and I lost track of time,” she nervously explained.

  “I was referring to your blatant defiance of orders. You’re too bright and clever to pull a rash stunt like this,” he chided her.

  She inquired in sincere confusion, “What have I done wrong, sir?”

  “The dress, Jana,” he informed her, tugging on the ribbons.

  Jana glanced at her gown and anxiously questioned, “Is it inappropriate? They said dancing in the Stardust Room. I assumed I was to—”

  “Inappropriate? Surely you have enough sense to realize you’re supposed to choose one of those laid out for you. Why do you defy me?”

  “Laid out?” Jana echoed as her gaze went past him to three elegant gowns which she had failed to notice. “I ran straight to the bathroom to bathe and dress, sir. I didn’t see them. Do you wish me to change?” she inquired, hoping to appease his black temper.

  “As quickly as possible,” he replied. As he stepped aside, he berated himself for his too hasty and turbulent reaction. Yet, teasings of suspicion entered his mind. Had she planned to make a grand entrance at dinner, clothed in defiance? Her words in the booth echoed in his mind: “Artful pretenders, playact our assigned roles…”

  Jana went to the bed. Her eyes scanned the three gowns which were so different in color and style from the rest of her wardrobe. One gown was a slinky cranberry-colored silk, another was an emerald-green satin, and the last was an enticing peacock-blue silk. “Which one?” she asked.

  “Hold up each one,” he ordered, determined to test her “I’ll do as ordered” claim or to expose the extent of her reckless bravery. Jana did as he commanded. His gaze swept over her as she held up each gown in turn. “The blue, and hurry. You’re late for dinner and dancing class.” He could imagine the impression they would make entering late and together.

  Jana snatched up the blue gown and rushed into the bathroom to change. The way the gown was designed, she could not fasten it. She had no choice but to ask for assistance. Varian sealed the opening after she had the gown in place. He pulled her taut body around to face him. The gown scintillated with sparks of deep blue and jade green. His gaze passed over her from tawny head to foot. The gown dipped to a low V-shape in the front, gathered snuggly at the waist, then fell softly to the floor. There was an arabesque at the abdomen in lighter, contrasting shades of blue and green.

 

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