by Diana Palmer
He wasn’t convinced, but he couldn’t let his worry show. “Where are you and Mekashe going today?” he asked, to cheer her.
She glanced at the clock display on the wall and laughed. It was, indeed, morning, if very early. “We’re going to Dacerius,” she said. “I’ve always wanted to see it.”
He smiled. “So have I. They have an entire pamphlet in the databanks for anyone who’s interested in the tour. It sounds fascinating. If the two of you like it, I may try it myself.”
She looked worried, as if she thought he might want to tag along with them.
He laughed. Her expression was so open. “I don’t want to go with you and Mekashe,” he told her. “Just so you know. The time you have together is precious.”
“It is,” she said, and smiled apologetically. “But I really think we’re going to be together for a very long time.” She sighed. “I’ve never felt like this. It’s joy beyond description.”
“I had that, with your mother,” he said. “She was a rare person.”
“She was.”
“Try to get a little more sleep,” he said, rising. “And no more nightmares. That’s an order.”
She laughed. “Yes, sir.”
“Sleep well, daughter.”
“You, too.”
* * *
SHE DID MANAGE to get a few more hours of sleep, without the nightmare returning. When she got up, she powdered her face, put on a light lip gloss and put on a gossamer blue sleeveless dress in a light, clingy fabric that swirled around her ankles. It made her look older, more sophisticated. And it was just right for a hot, desert climate. She’d noticed that the holorooms did an excellent job of matching climate to location. She didn’t want to sweat too much.
Mekashe was punctual. He was wearing a lightweight suit, superbly cut, that enhanced his muscular form. She wondered at the strength of it; he was very fit for a diplomat.
“Why are you watching me so closely?” he teased.
“You’re very...well, very muscular,” she replied, smiling up at him. “Does your diplomatic service have physical requirements?”
“Many,” he said, “and more than just physical ones. You look very pretty,” he said, changing the subject.
“I tried to dress for the climate. I expect Dacerius is very hot.”
He chuckled. “Extremely hot. The sands blow constantly, so that it’s impossible to walk around the villages without being lightly covered in yellow dust.”
She laughed. “If I get covered in yellow dust, I’ll look like you,” she said with a shy glance. “You have the most beautiful skin color. Sorry, handsome skin color,” she corrected at once.
He curled her fingers into his, sending a shock of pleasure through her. “I’m pleased that you like it.”
“What do the Cehn-Tahr look like?” she asked suddenly. “I mean, do you have different skin colors, like human colonies do?”
He’d caught his breath when she asked what his species looked like. He was afraid that she’d seen or heard something that would disturb her. He laughed softly. “No. All Cehn-Tahr have golden skin and black hair. We are one race, not many.”
“Then you must never have conflicts,” she began.
He threw back his head and roared with laughter. “We have them constantly. One Clan takes offense at something a member of another Clan says, and there’s open verbal warfare. It can be extremely unpleasant.”
“What are Clans?”
He pursed his lips. “You might call them family units, but that would be a simplification. Clan is everything in my culture. We live and die to spare it shame or dishonor.”
“It sounds like a very noble culture,” she said after a minute.
He smiled. At least that sounded positive.
* * *
THE HOLOROOM THAT Mekashe had reserved was already programmed for Dacerius. He’d already checked with the programming manager to make sure there were no more glitches, like the one that had injured Mekashe. They arrived in a shuttle in the created environment, which made the experience even more real.
When they stepped out of it into the spaceport on the planet’s surface, Jasmine caught her breath and laughed. “It’s so hot!” she exclaimed.
He smiled. “True to life. Come. There are Yomuth for rent just outside. We can ride to a village and sample the native foods. And see the Nagaashe,” he added when she looked dubious.
“But I’m really not dressed to ride anything,” she began worriedly. “I should have worn slacks. I’m so sorry!”
He chuckled. He led her to a small cubicle in the spaceport. “It’s a changing room,” he said. “Clothing for the tourist attraction is provided with the holoroom.”
Her face lit up. “Really? Oh, thank goodness. I would have been heartbroken if I couldn’t ride!”
“Go ahead,” he said, indicating the room. “I’ll wait here.”
“I won’t be a minute!” she promised.
* * *
OF COURSE, IT was ten minutes, maybe more. She had a choice of desert outfits, so she finally chose one that was supposed to resemble ancient human desert garb—a tunic and long skirt with high boots and a wide-brimmed hat, in a khaki color. She was so fascinated with it that she lost track of time.
“I’m so sorry!” she told Mekashe when she reappeared. “I got carried away.”
He scowled. “Carried...away.” He nodded, not understanding.
“I lost myself in the search for clothing,” she amended. “It was fun!”
He laughed. “I see. You look nice.”
“It’s ancient human desert wear, they said,” she told him. “At least, it should keep the sand out!”
“Indeed.”
She noticed that he was wearing the same suit and hadn’t changed. “Won’t you ruin your suit?” she worried.
He laughed. “It’s made of durable fabric, and it changes color and shape according to the environment it encounters. You’ll see when we get outside.”
* * *
THAT REALLY FASCINATED HER. She followed him out the spaceport doors and into the desert sun. His suit turned pale tan and amended itself into desert wear, much like the Dacerians themselves wore.
She laughed with delight. “That’s so incredible!”
“We have rather advanced tech on Memcache,” he said simply. He caught her hand in his. “Now. Let’s find a Yomuth shop!”
* * *
THERE WERE YOMUTH in all sorts of colors. Some were white. Some were tan. Some had patterns. But Jasmine fell in love with a black-and-white one with huge blue eyes. He rubbed his head against her and she was entranced.
“They’re quite affectionate,” Mekashe said. “This one, then?” He gave the merchant his chip and paid for the animal for a whole day.
“Mount up,” he told her, indicating a large, high stone edifice with steps.
She knew immediately what it was for. She climbed to the top and let Mekashe seat her on the soft blanket that served as a saddle. He moved into place behind her, linked a long arm around her waist, took the reins and urged the mount forward.
The Yomuth was fast. It took to the road with a spring and a grunt and galloped down the long, winding desert road.
“This is fun!” Jasmine called.
“Yes, it is.” He chuckled. He turned the animal toward Hakar, a small village a mile from the spaceport. It had a famous bazaar in real life, which was re-created in the holoroom.
“It’s so hard to believe that we’re in a room,” she exclaimed as she looked around at the endless horizon.
“Technology has made many advances over the years,” he agreed. “One does get the feeling of actually being in the chosen place.”
“Is it like this? Really like this?” she wondered when they reached the village and he was handing her down to the mounting sto
ne in place beside a stable.
“More or less,” he said. He smiled down at her. “Of course, on the real planet, there are raiders and some rather fierce predators. Those won’t be re-created here.”
“Thank goodness. I couldn’t bear to see you hurt again,” she confessed huskily.
His heart soared. He smiled at her and felt himself almost airborne.
“Is that where they sell the Nagaashe?” she asked excitedly, when she saw another group of tourists gathered around something serpentine on a raised table.
“Yes, it is. This village is famous for them. Of course, these are virtual Nagaashe, Jasmine,” he emphasized. “The sale of real ones is taboo.” He didn’t tell her why, that the blue-eyed serpents were both sentient and telepathic. The small ones from Dacerius were sold on the black market, but their possession was illegal on most civilized worlds.
“Why?” she asked curiously.
He smiled. “I’ll tell you later. Look.” He pointed to a table where the little Nagaashe were slithering around.
She moved closer. She was shocked when one of the little creatures rushed toward her.
She jerked back, but Mekashe caught her shoulders and held her in place. “No. Don’t run,” he whispered. “It likes you! It wants to be picked up.”
“Oh.” She stopped struggling and moved closer. The tiny serpent coiled just in front of her, swayed back and forth and emitted a purring sound. “My goodness!” she exclaimed.
She cupped her hands and the little creature slid into them and coiled and purred even louder. She laughed like a happy child as she lifted it to her face. It leaned forward and rubbed its head against her cheek, vibrating and purring.
“It’s so sweet!” she exclaimed.
“They make loyal pets,” he said. “There have been stories about them, legends, for many years. The virtual ones have a shape-shifting ability. They can grow to enormous size and actually protect their owners from attack. It’s why they’re so sought after as pets.”
“Do the real ones do that?” she asked.
“No. The true Nagaashe are as tall as a two-story building. They are both venomous and aggressive when attacked. They have a large colony on Eridanus Three, where they live undisturbed. The virtual ones are patterned after the real ones, but with the shape-shifting function programmed in.”
“That’s fascinating.”
He smiled. “Yes. They have other traits that are only revealed to the owner, and each is different and unique. They can never be used against the owner. But they are quite protective, and they survive to a great age, like their living counterparts.”
“How long do they live? The real ones?” she asked curiously.
“We have no true figures, but some are rumored to be thousands of years old.”
“My goodness!”
The little Nagaashe purred some more.
“I have to have him,” she said huskily. “I don’t even care what it costs.”
He laughed. “I will give him to you...”
“No, you won’t,” she said firmly. “Daddy gave me plenty of mems to spend, and I’m buying him myself.” She looked up at his surprised expression. “You’re so kind to me, Mekashe. You’ve treated me to so many fascinating trips. I can do this one thing for myself.”
He sighed. The giving of a gift was a prelude to courtship. It would bring on the mating ritual. He didn’t mind. He planned to bond with her. But perhaps she was right. It might be just a little soon for something so profound. With that thought in mind, he’d given her the capture device through her father. He’d asked earlier if she had it, and she assured him that her father had passed it along. She seemed enthralled with the capture of the two of them together.
“Can you ask him how much the Nagaashe is?” she asked Mekashe.
“I can.” He spoke Dacerian like a native. The shopkeeper replied, and Mekashe translated for Jasmine.
“That’s very reasonable, for something so precious!” she said. She reached into her pack and pulled out a sack of mems. She handed it to the merchant and Mekashe explained that she wanted the merchant to take out what was needed for the serpent and return the rest, which he did.
“And now you’re mine, you precious thing,” she whispered to the little serpent. “You’re just so precious!”
Mekashe was delighted at her pleasure in the little pet. It would keep her safe, too, protect her against any threat. It might shock her when she watched it transform, however. He’d have to make sure she understood that it wouldn’t look like the tame, affectionate little creature she was holding, if it changed into its larger form to meet the threat.
She turned to him suddenly, worried. “We’re in a virtual place,” she said. “I won’t be able to take him out of here, will I?”
He chuckled. “If that were the case, the holorooms would go unvisited. The Nagaashe will be replicated outside the instance and waiting for you, nicely packaged, when we leave.”
She let out the breath she’d been holding. “Oh, thank goodness,” she said heavily, rubbing her head against her pet’s. “I’m already attached to him. It would hurt to have to leave him behind.”
“I can assure you that you won’t,” he said, smiling. “And now, how would you like to sample Dacerian fare? You can bring the little serpent inside with you,” he explained with a laugh when she paused at the doorway of the small restaurant.
“Oh, then, that’s fine! What is the food like?”
“Much easier to show you than tell you, but I think you may find it delightful,” he commented as they went inside and were seated.
She looked at the menu and hesitated. “Can you tell me what it says?” she asked. “Better yet, can you just order something for me?”
“What sort of fare do you prefer?” he asked.
“Nothing that comes from an animal,” she replied quickly. “Just vegetables or fruits.”
“Certainly.”
* * *
SHE ATE HEARTILY, delighted with the taste of the native plants. “Aren’t you eating?” she asked worriedly.
He smiled. “I think you know that I prefer meat. But I won’t eat it in front of you.”
She smiled back. “That’s so sweet. But I wouldn’t mind, really,” she said hesitantly. “Sometimes we have to compromise.”
“I agree. But I had a large breakfast and I’m truly not hungry,” he said, smiling warmly. If she was willing to compromise, perhaps the road ahead wouldn’t be so rocky after all.
After she finished her small meal, with her virtual Nagaashe tucked safely into her pack, they mounted the Yomuth again and headed to the next tourist attraction. It was a desert camp in the old style, with a campfire and huge tents in which the inhabitants lived.
There were animals being roasted on spits in the campfire and Mekashe tugged Jasmine’s hand as she went toward it.
“That will not make you happy,” he told her quietly. “We should go along to the rest of the camp. They use flint knapping techniques to work stone weapons. It will be interesting.”
She looked up at him, puzzled. “But I’ve heard of campfires. I’ve never seen one. They say that the Holconcom used to tell stories of Dr. Madeline Ruszel around them, before she was bonded to your emperor’s son.”
“That is true,” he replied, smiling. “She was legend among the kehmatemer, the emperor’s Imperial Guard, long before she left the Holconcom to bond with Dtimun.”
She caught her breath. “She was Holconcom? But she’s a woman...!”
He chuckled. “You see, Dtimun and the emperor were involved in a feud that lasted many decades. When the Morcai Battalion was first formed at Ahkmau, where military humans and Cehn-Tahr were imprisoned, it was Dr. Ruszel who saved Dtimun’s life. Dtimun had Ruszel assigned as Cularian medicine specialist aboard his flagship, the Morcai, and she became the first and onl
y female human ever to serve there. The emperor was furious, but Dtimun’s authority aboard the Morcai was absolute. Later, she saved the emperor’s life during a small conflict on an away mission, and earned his respect.”
“She must have been an exceptional person,” Jasmine remarked, fascinated.
“She still is,” he said, smiling.
Her pale blue eyes were full of concern. “Those are facts that most Terravegans don’t even know. You won’t get in trouble with anyone, for telling me?”
He shook his head. “Your father will be privy to much information that is never shared with outworlders. I am, how do you say, anticipating your residence on Memcache. You are not an outsider,” he added huskily, with possessive eyes.
She moved a step closer to him. “I’m glad. I love it, that we’ll be near each other on your planet. And we can see each other?”
He nodded.
“And...go places together?”
He nodded again.
She moved closer still. “I can’t wait,” she whispered. “It will be a whole new life.”
“For both of us,” he whispered back.
Around them, the villagers were smiling and laughing softly. Mekashe cleared his throat and stepped back.
“We seem to be attracting attention,” he explained.
She noticed. Her face flamed. “Sorry.”
“You have nothing to apologize for. But we should move on.”
“Yes.”
* * *
IT WAS A perfect day. When sunset came to the planet, it was time to board the shuttle and travel back to the ship—or at least, enter the simulation that created the experience.
Mekashe walked Jasmine back toward the rooms she shared with her father. They were holding hands and both reluctant to part.
“It grows harder to leave you,” he said huskily when they reached the door.
“For me, as well,” she replied, looking up at him hungrily.
He pulled her into the small alcove and kissed her with such passion that she caught her breath and shivered.
He drew back at once. “Did I hurt you?” he asked quickly. He’d used an extra dose of the dravelzium, to make sure, but perhaps...!