There was no amusement in those arresting green eyes of his. They were no longer emerald, but had turned as dark as a forest at night. She felt trapped by their intensity and she couldn’t pull her own away. The voices around her faded as if she and the Commander were the only two people in the room. Under the influence of that stare, her heart began to beat a little faster. Her mouth opened, searching for air, and she nervously moistened her lips.
As if the slight movement of her tongue was the signal he was looking for, the Commander spoke.
“Tell us, instructor, does a female’s dress indicate her interest in and availability to the males surrounding her?” His darkened eyes travelled the length of her body and his tone implied an accusation.
Suddenly conscious of the modest cleavage exposed by her scooped neck sweater, Mira had an impulsive urge to hike the sweater up, don her jacket, and button it to the neck. Her guilt increased with the knowledge that she’d chosen the outfit specifically to show off the attributes she now wanted to cover.
Rebellion immediately stomped on the toes of her guilt. Her outfit could not be called provocative. He had no right to insinuate otherwise.
“It’s true, some women dress for the sole purpose of attracting male attention,” she told him in what she thought of as her teacher’s voice, pleased she didn’t stammer under his continued glare. “Most women, however, try to dress in a way that makes them feel good about themselves. Male admiration is always pleasing, but not necessarily the goal.” She hoped he heard her implied, “So there.”
Still frowning, Roark nodded once, slipped through the open door behind him, and was gone.
Mira blinked and looked around at the roomful of men who had indeed fallen silent and were now staring at her, too. She swallowed and laughed self-consciously.
“Well, where were we?” She dusted off her hands as if dusting off a problem and continued to smile in an attempt to cover her embarrassment.
“We were right here,” someone answered as if her question had been a serious one. “The question is, where were you?”
Mira had no idea where her mind had wandered, but her body felt warm and flushed, and her hands were ice cold.
Chapter 10
As if Roark’s question was a dare, Mira not only wore her jeans to work the next day, she traded her comfortable walking shoes for her only pair of high heels. As an added act of defiance, she left an extra button free on the tailored shirt she wore.
“Too much?” she’d asked Wynne before leaving that morning.
“Oh, definitely,” her big talking sister giggled at the modest gesture. “When it comes to daring, that button’s right up there with Mom refusing to wear a hat to church. Nona Donazetto was sure we’d all be struck dead when God sent the lightning bolt to get Mom.” Using a voice that mimicked their long deceased grandmother, she intoned, “The road to hell is paved with unused buttons,” and then giggled.
“Very funny, Miss Smartie Pants. I tell you what. Why don’t you be the fatted calf and I’ll stay home and make the jokes.”
“Sorry, I’m not the fatted calf he’s looking for and that button’s not going to make one bit of difference if he doesn’t show up for the sacrifice.”
Wynne was right on that one. There was no guarantee Mira would even see the man. She spent most of the morning watching the window in the hopes that he’d pass by.
Ahnyis was missing in action, too. She’d left a note on the clinic door referring all patients to the hospital where she was still at work seeing to the wounded. Dr. Mason was there, though, and alone. He cleared off a pile of papers that were scattered across the table and invited Mira to eat her lunch with him instead.
“I’m surprised Ahnyis left you alone,” Mira laughed as she dragged her chair over from the desk.
“I’ve been let off my leash in order to clean the clinic while Ahnyis is gone. Years of medical school and this is where I end up.” With his hand, he introduced her to his mop and pail.
“We’ve all ended up in places we didn’t expect to be, doing things we didn’t expect to do,” Mira sympathized.
“And kissing asses we shouldn’t have to kiss,” he added.
Mira blinked at his choice of words.
Now that he was clean and his beard was trimmed, he was actually quite handsome with a bad boy look about him that some women would find attractive. Mira wondered if Ahnyis’s people had bad boys, because that type of man would be even more dangerous to the unsuspecting.
“Is that what you’re doing with Ahnyis? Kissing ass?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said, but the hint of a smirk made Mira think otherwise.
“Mason, I know you’re a doctor and probably have more knowledge of these things than I do, and I’m only going to bring this up once because I don’t want you to get in trouble for doing something you didn’t know you shouldn’t. It’s none of my business really, but I’d hate to see you get thrown back into a cell in the basement.”
“Aha!” he cried, and at the same time stole one of the pickle slices from her plate and popped it into his mouth. “A dose of medicine for my own good. I’ve always enjoyed being served up a spoonful by a beautiful woman, but it’s only fair to warn you, I rarely swallow it.”
“Why am I not surprised?” she laughed. “Whether you swallow it or not is none of my business, either. I only feel the obligation to offer it. I’m talking about Ahnyis’s tail.”
“What about it?” His question sounded curious and much too innocent. “What should I know about a Kataran female’s tail? For that matter, what do you know about a Kataran female’s tail? Ahnyis didn’t strike me as the type to kiss and tell.” He threw back his head and sighed dramatically. “I feel so used.”
“You know,” she concluded with a sigh of her own.
“Of course I know. I’m a doctor aren’t I?” He picked up the untouched half her sandwich and took a bite before asking, “Do you mind?”
He was already taking another bite by the time she smiled and shook her head to indicate she didn’t.
“God, I hate that glop they serve in the mess hall, don’t you?” he asked after he swallowed.
Mira had seen the glop he spoke of and was in no hurry to taste it. She’d learned that when you’re truly hungry, you’ll eat anything that’s put in front of you, but she wasn’t hungry now and would put off the taste test for as long as she could.
There was something else she couldn’t put off because she might not find him alone again any time soon. “Mason, there’s something I need to ask you about, something I’d like to keep private.”
She searched for the rights words, but there weren’t any. No matter how she asked it, she would sound like she was questioning the integrity of the people she was growing to love. What sort of person did that?
“If you’re counting on that subdermal implant, you’re out of luck,” Mason said, seemingly out of nowhere.
“What?” Mira heard the words, but they didn’t register.
“Unless you found a spare one floating around sometime in the last three years,” he went on. He pointed to her arm. “If it’s pre-war, you really should have it removed. I can take care of that for you. As for Roark, you’re going to have to take your chances, but I wouldn’t worry too much about it. I’ve been teaching myself to read Godan when I’m supposed to be cleaning the clinic and according to the research, it looks like only about ten percent of any genetically compatible female population can actually conceive. Of course, the jury’s still out on our population, but the odds are you’ll be okay.” He shook his head. “Man, I can’t believe I’m a doctor and just said that. Next thing you know I’ll be telling girls they can’t get pregnant the first time out.”
A genetically compatible female population? Now she was thoroughly confused. “Mason, what are you talking about?”
“Contraception. That’s what all the hesitation is about, isn’t it? You said you had something to ask.”
&nbs
If she hadn’t been looking right at him, she would have missed the look of fear that passed across his face. She blinked and it was gone, replaced by a look of questioning concern.
“Why ask me? I’m just a doctor.”
“Yes, you’re a doctor, and a human.” She grabbed her last pickle as he reached for it. “And I think you know a lot about a lot of things.”
“Which is why you didn’t think I knew anything about Kataran females or their tails.” He sounded resentful. “Well, you’re right. I don’t know anything about anything.” He held up his hand, showing her the three mangled fingers she hadn’t noticed before. “Learned my lesson the hard way on that one.” He suddenly looked suspicious. “Are you a spy? Is that what this opportune lunch is about?”
Mira was taken aback by the question. “A spy for what? Or should I say for whom? And why would anyone care what a doctor knows about Kataran females’ tails?” Mason’s suspiciousness was contagious. “Why exactly did they have you locked up, Dr. Mason Mason? Did someone really do that to your hand?”
“Maybe because I asked about things I shouldn’t and the hand was the easy part. You still haven’t answered my question.”
“I’m not a spy, but I don’t see that my answer makes any difference. If I was one, I’d lie.”
“You’re sleeping with Roark,” he accused as if that was his evidence.
Mira thought about correcting that statement, but it wasn’t worth it. “And you’re sleeping with Ahnyis. Should I be asking if you’re a spy, too?”
“Ahnyis is an innocent. You know that,” Mason said testily, which was kind of sweet, really, but his implication wasn’t.
“Are you saying Roark isn’t?”
“An innocent?” He snorted a laugh and waggled his eyebrows. “I wouldn’t know. We haven’t gotten that far in our relationship.” He raised his hands for peace when he saw her jaw clench. “Jeez, jealous much? Okay, fine, since you ask, no, I don’t think he’d have anything to do with something like snatching kids off the street. You don’t have anything to do with it either, Mira. You don’t know anything. Do you hear me?” All humor was gone. “And don’t think you can trust me with this shit because I’m human. You can’t. You can’t trust anyone. I learned that the hard way, too.”
She was more curious than ever about why he’d been jailed and why he was still so afraid, but she didn’t push it. Instead, she shrugged and pulled the last packet from her lunch bag.
“I was going to share my cookies with you, but now that you’ve accused me of being a spy, I don’t think I will.”
She saw the relief pass through his eyes before he laughed and held out his hand.
“I take it back. You’re not a spy.”
Not wanting to upset him further, Mira changed the subject back to her original.
“Mason, I only brought the stuff about Ahnyis up because she’s my friend,” she told him as she passed him his cookie. “I know she’s an adult, but like you said, she strikes me as more innocent than you or me. Ahnyis doesn’t use people. I don’t think she knows how, and I don’t want to see her hurt.
“Please don’t use her. Don’t hurt her. It’s for your sake as well as hers. She’s loved and protected by powerful people,” Mira added, remembering Roark’s reaction. “Mess with her heart and you’ll get hurt, too. And,” she added to take the sting from her words, “I won’t bring you any more cookies.”
“If it makes you feel any better, Ahnyis is definitely not on my list of aliens I’d like to hurt. She’s much too sweet.” He grinned. “Now when will you bring me more cookies?”
Mira wasn’t sure what to make of Dr. Mason Mason. He said not to trust him, but by the way his face softened when he said her friend’s name, she trusted him when it came to Ahnyis.
That part of yesterday had been partially successful, at least. Now, if she could only make some headway with Roark, she’d consider today successful, too, though to make that happen, she’d have to find him first.
She hung up her coat and called hello, but there was no muttered morning curse from behind the partition. There was a coat hanging next to hers, so she knew he was there.
“Hey Mohawk, what’s with the silent treatment?” she called as she tossed her purse in the drawer of her desk. “No morning complaints. No foul mouthed curse of the day. Yesterday’s son of a feather fucker was pretty damn good, but I’m ready to increase my Godan vocabulary with a new one. Lay it on me, Mohawk. I’m feeling neglected here.” She rounded the partition with a smile on her face.
“Is that what you do here all day? Learn foul mouthed slang? I’ve been waiting here for fifteen minutes. You’re...” Roark looked up at the old analog clock on the wall as the minute hand clicked into place.
“Right on time,” Mira said on a sigh of relief and completely forgetting her mission to lure him in with her pretended sex appeal, gave him an awkward salute. “To what do we owe the honor, First Commander? It isn’t often we’re graced with such a high presence in our humble and often foul mouthed Office of Local Communications and Development.”
He glared at her after checking the multipurpose unit on his wrist. “That clock is three minutes off. It’s antiquated and should be replaced.”
Mira didn’t try to hold back her laugh. “In case you haven’t noticed, bossman, most of this base is antiquated and needs to be replaced. That’s why they abandoned it fifteen years before you got here and why it was still mostly in one piece when you arrived. There wasn’t much worth stealing. The Hahnshin must have thought it was a waste of ammunition to level it. I only wish they’d thought the same about the town down the road. We weren’t exactly a thriving metropolis after the base shut down.”
“Destroying all population centers is standard operational procedure for the Hahnshin,” he said.
“Yeah, well they should have checked with us first. As a town, we were already dying. Most of our population left when the Army pulled out.” It was then she noticed the two containers on Mohawk’s desk and the delicious smell emanating from them. Her eyes widened and she felt a silly grin spread across her face. “Is that coffee?”
“Thank you, God,” she whispered, rolling her eyes heavenward after she’d taken her first sip of the dark and bitter brew and then she smiled at him and that smile was enough to make Roark feel blessed by whatever god it was she worshipped. “And you, too, of course,” she added making him feel doubly blessed. “I haven’t had coffee since last Christmas when Wynne traded six tins of sardines for three ounces of beans.”
“Sardines?” he asked, making a mental note to buy some of them, too, if such a thing could be found. Shared coffee, and small, insignificant gifts were two things on her list of the mating rituals of human women.
“Little fish packed in a can” she explained, measuring the length with her fingers and then forming the shape of the container. She wrinkled her nose in distaste. “Before the war, I wouldn’t have touched them. They stink.”
Roark crossed sardines off his list of possible gifts.
“After, when food became scarce, I started what Wynne and I call forage runs, searching bombed out buildings for anything that could be eaten or traded. I’d looked over the remains of that building a dozen times, but there was no way in. The rubble must have shifted because that night, when I decided to take one last look, I discovered an opening big enough to crawl through.”
Roark couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Had she no idea how dangerous that was? The foolish female could have been killed. She must have recognized the disbelief on his face because she quickly amended her story, though not for the better.
“Okay, so that was the story I told Wynne. The truth is I was looking for a place to hide. Everyone scavenged in one way or another back then. They still do, for that matter. Anyway.” She shrugged and took another sip of coffee and made another heavenly face of bliss as she did so. “As time passed and surface goods disappeared, the hunt became a little riskier and I just didn’t want Wynne worrying about it. It can be dangerous crawling through the rubble to find openings into those bombed out buildings. Piles that remained stable for months or years suddenly collapse. Even a small shift could leave you trapped inside with no way out. I know that, and I make sure the kids know it, too. Two iron clad rules,” she stated firmly. “You don’t steal and you stay above ground.”
At least she had the sense not to encourage children to undertake such dangerous practices. Roark’s relief was short lived.
“But falling buildings aren’t the only nasty things waiting out there in the dark. You also have to watch out for the gangs that roam the streets. Beating up scavengers and robbing them is a whole lot easier than doing the work yourself. I got careless.” She sighed and shook her head at her own lack of sense. “I was running from one of them when I fell through the hole in the rubble. I thought I was a goner, but I lucked out. Most of the bottom floor had collapsed, but the elevator shaft was clear to the basement,” she went on.
She was reliving the excitement she’d felt. He could see it in her face. It was the same look he’d seen on the faces of soldiers as they recounted a successful battle.
“I found four untouched storage lockers with very little water damage,” she confided happily. “It was like discovering King Tut’s tomb. It took me a month to clean those lockers out. Oh, sorry.” Her blush of embarrassment heightened the color of excitement in her silk skinned cheeks. “I have a bad habit of making a short story long. Bottom line; among the treasures were six cases of sardines. With seventy-two tins of sardines, Wynne figured we could spare six in exchange for coffee on Christmas morning. She traded a few more for fresh oranges for the kids so it was a pretty good Christmas all the way around.”
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