An Indecent Proposal

by Jaleta Clegg

  "I need to tell your father to buy a better one next time. The aim on this one is lousy."

  "I'll have him put it on our wedding wish list. What brand are you thinking of?"

  "And they say I'm insane."

  "Speaking of insane requests," Vance said into my ear, "Commander Hovart wants a word with you. He seems to respect you. Do you know him?"

  "He's convinced I'm a secret agent, especially after he locked me up the last time I saw him. That was after Tayvis arrested me for treason."

  "Tayvis arrested you?"

  I was suddenly, acutely, uncomfortable with Vance's arms around me. I was getting too close to him. But Tayvis had walked out on me. After he promised never to walk away from me again. I shifted, away from Vance.

  "The rain's stopping." My voice was tight, too high, stretched by nerves.

  "Maybe you'll get to see the fabled skies of Perlion after all. We're leaving tomorrow."

  "Why so soon?"

  "Because my dear father, the Speaker to the Council, has urgent business back on Linas-Drias. Someone called an emergency meeting of the Council. It seems ships are being shot up by the Federation. They want retaliation."

  I thought I was cold before. The news left me chilled completely. "They don't know what they're doing."

  "They think they are protecting their interests."

  "By starting a war in which millions of people will die?"

  "What do you know that you're not telling?" He shifted enough so he could see my face.

  More than I wanted him to know.

  "I think I'll go change for that luncheon now." I turned away.

  I glanced back as I walked away. He was staring out the window now.

  I went into my room and peeled off my clothes. I grabbed the closest outfit that would meet society's expectations and put it on.

  He'd given me a perfect opportunity to take him into my confidence. I hadn't. That by itself would tell him I suspected him. But I couldn't reconcile the words of that anonymous note with the Vance I'd come to know. If he was involved in treason, wouldn't he be trying harder to hide it?

  I let the thought trail away. I was getting too close to him and I couldn't afford to be. I didn't know how to not be involved.

  I went through the motions of getting ready. I didn't pay much attention to what I was doing. Too many conflicting feelings were at war inside me, too many new suspicions.

  Why had Leighton cornered me into spying for him? Did he seriously believe I could find the traitor?

  I brushed my hair and dabbed makeup across my face. The actions had become much too familiar. I was losing touch with myself, I was becoming someone else. My life on the Phoenix with Jasyn seemed a faraway dream, a life someone else had lived, not me. Not Dace.

  I put the brushes away and fetched my shoes. No boots this time. They were high heels, shoes I would have refused just a few months earlier. Now I just slid my feet into them and walked out of the room. I looked different, polished and perfected.

  "Ready?" Vance asked with a bland smile.

  "Of course," I said just as blandly.

  We went to the luncheon. I laughed and smiled and pretended to be happy and in love. Inside I was dying, bit by bit. No one had the poor manners to mention the night before. It was as if it had never happened.

  The lunch was short, no one seemed in the mood to linger. I took the first reasonable excuse offered and dragged Vance away. He didn't need much dragging. He was as happy to escape as I was.

  The ground car was quiet on our way back to the palace. We were back in the room before Vance said anything.

  "Have you thought about a date yet? Spring on Linas-Drias is lovely."

  I froze halfway through removing my jacket. "What?"

  "For the wedding. We are engaged. That usually means a wedding."

  "I hadn't thought about it."

  "What about next spring?"

  "When's that?" I hadn't kept track of the seasons on Linas-Drias. I hadn't had to, everywhere I went, everything was controlled.

  "In about four months. Maybe that won't give us enough time. We need to decide on all sorts of things."

  "Why are you bringing this up now?" I asked point blank. "We've been engaged for weeks."

  "And I've been fielding questions about when for a while. They wanted to know today at the lunch and I had to give them some lame excuse. Dace, we need to settle some things."

  I turned away from him. He couldn't be serious. This was all a game, wasn't it? We weren't really going to get married, were we?

  "What color do you want the flowers and what kind?"

  "I don't want any."

  "That will be definitely different."

  "Vance, I can't do this now."

  "Then when, Dace? You keep finding excuses."

  And I'll keep finding excuses until I know for sure I want to marry you, I said silently. I couldn't let him know what I was thinking, because I could see myself married to him and it scared me that I could think that way. The ring on my finger weighed a ton. I glanced down at it. I had to play the game, and play it so well that no one guessed I was only playing. Play it so well, in fact, that I forgot I was only playing.

  "I don't know where to even start planning," I said in a little voice.

  "That's easily solved," he said, the smile back in his voice. "I have a whole list to start with."

  "I'll be right out," I said and smiled at him.

  "If you aren't, I'm coming in to get you."

  I came back, wearing a warmer outfit more suited to sitting around on a rainy day than the outfit I'd worn to lunch. I made myself smile and sit next to Vance as we planned a wedding.

  It was a relief when Iniuri interrupted us. For some reason, as long as we had separate rooms for sleeping in, no one seemed to care that we spent a lot of time alone together. I didn't understand the rules, they made no sense to me.

  Iniuri looked tired. Vance and I were deep in a debate over blue or pink flowers. I wanted something blue, small and simple. Vance was trying to convince me that a big, elaborate arrangement of pink and white flowers was more appealing.

  "Wedding plans?" Iniuri asked in surprise.

  "Don't get me started about the dress." I held my hand up to Vance. "Hester and Madame Yosefie are picking it out for me, as soon as we get back and I can ask them about it."

  "I hate to interrupt such a happy discussion," Iniuri said, "but Commander Hovart would like to speak to Dace about last night."

  Vance stood, leaving our notes scattered across the table. "Now is better than later. We can discuss flowers, after you have a chance to think about pink."

  "I will die before I let you drown me in pink flowers."

  "He asked to speak with her alone," Iniuri told Vance. "He sent an escort."

  Both of them turned curious looks on me.

  "I saw the man who shot at you last night," I said. "I'm sure it's standard procedure."

  "That reminds me," Vance said. "Dace wants you to buy her a better blaster next time. She says the one you gave her doesn't shoot straight or we'd have a body instead of a fugitive."

  "That is not what I said, Vance."

  "Not word for word, no."

  "Go." Iniuri shooed me out.

  A guard waited unobtrusively outside the door. He snapped to attention when he saw me.

  "Admiral Dace," he said. "Commander Hovart would like a word with you at your earliest convenience."

  At least the guards were competent at something, I thought to myself, even if it wasn't catching fugitive gunmen. They had good aim with their stunners.

  "Now would be fine."

  He nodded and led me off into the palace.

  Hovart's office was located in the basement. This was where they hid the workings of the building. There were rooms full of equipment and wiring and other necessities. Down here, they weren't hidden behind pretty facades. They were utilitarian and open and accessible. I felt much more at home.

  The guard k
nocked at Hovart's door. A muffled voice called to us to come in. The guard opened the door and stood back. I walked in. He pulled it shut behind me.

  Hovart had a com unit in one ear and typed madly on a keypad. He talked to someone else on a speaker set into the desk. Lights flashed and blinked. He waved me into a chair without pausing in his typing or his talking.

  I politely pretended not to hear. It wasn't too hard to pretend. He was using a subvocalizer for most of it. I sat on the chair and waited.

  He finished the call on the speaker and cut that off. He finished typing after another minute. He leaned back in his chair and talked rapidly into the com unit. He pulled it free with a sigh and shut it off.

  "Did you get any sleep last night?" I asked. He looked exhausted.

  "Did you?"

  "Was I not supposed to get any?"

  "The official story was that you had an emotional breakdown."

  "And had to be sedated? What kind of nonsense is that?"

  "Considering most of the women there last night, and a good number of the men, had to be sedated, they believe it. Being shot at is a traumatic event."

  "Not when it happens often enough."

  "Do I dare ask how often you've been shot at?" He opened his eyes wide, waiting for my answer.

  "More than I want to count. I was more upset that I couldn't shoot straight last night. I should have nailed him with the first shot."

  Hovart laughed. "You have no idea how refreshing it is to hear that." He tapped his desk, scrolling through a blinking report that suddenly appeared. "More nonsense. Half the city is filing complaints against me, saying I don't do my job."

  "Are they firing you over it?"

  "I wish I were that lucky. No, the Potentate refuses to let me go. His last security commander left with the Potentate's mistress and half of his money. I tracked him down on Landruss last month. The Potentate was very grateful."

  "Why did you want to see me, Greyson? I doubt it's to talk over old times."

  "No, I wouldn't want to talk about Vallius unless I had to. Or the time you were arrested for treason."

  "We don't have any other old times."

  "I need to talk to you about last night. What you saw. What happened. And I need to get an official report on your blaster. I have to ask you to give it to me for testing."

  "It shoots high and to the left."

  "Not that kind of testing," he said with a grin. "I need to have the records of its particulate residue pattern. I need to check its registration."

  "And if I refuse to give it you? What if I claim I never had a blaster? That I wasn't shooting at anyone last night?"

  "Then that's what I'll put in the report. But that leaves me with two undocumented weapons on the scene."

  I pulled the blaster out of my waistband and laid it on his desk. He reached for it. I put my hand on the weapon.

  "Trade me, Greyson. Give me one of yours."

  "That's illegal, Dace. Technically you shouldn't even have that one."

  "But I feel much better with it. This one is most likely registered to Iniuri Shiropi. He's the one who gave it to me."

  Hovart gave me a sharp look. "That explains a lot." He drummed his fingers on the desk. "Keep it," he said, making a decision. "If the Speaker wants you armed, then I'm not going to argue."

  "What about your report?"

  "What about it? I'll claim someone messed up the evidence. It happens often enough no one will even raise an eyebrow. The eyewitness accounts stating you had a weapon will be explained by hysteria brought on by stress and fear. Does that suit you?"

  "Perfectly." I tucked the blaster back away.

  "We're still looking for the assailant. So far, no one has shown up at a hospital with a blaster burn on his shoulder. I don't have the manpower to do much more than that."

  "Ah." That explained a lot to me. Someone takes potshots at the Speaker, the Second Speaker, and the Emperor's heir and the security commander doesn't have enough manpower to hunt him down? Someone didn't want him found. Someone was trying to deliberately keep him at large. And keep everyone else looking over their collective shoulders.

  "Ah, what? Tell me what's really going on, Dace. I find it hard to believe the news vids. You aren't really marrying Vance Shiropi."

  "I just spent the last four hours planning a wedding with him. I'm wearing his engagement ring. Why don't you believe it, Greyson?"

  "Because I know you better than that." His answer was flat.

  "You don't know me nearly as well as you think. I'd better go now." I was sorely tempted to tell him everything. But Greyson Hovart, no matter how loyal or trustworthy he may be, had a very narrow view of the universe. He wasn't the help I needed. I stood and held out my hand.

  "It was a pleasure to see you again," I said. "Even under the circumstances."

  He didn't take my hand. He sat back and studied me. "Tell me why you're really here."

  "I'm here because Iniuri invited me along."

  "You know what I'm asking, Dace."

  I smiled brightly. "I'm getting married. Do you want invited to the wedding? We only have eight hundred and forty three guests so far on the list."

  I watched as he mentally shuttered his thoughts. He took my hand and shook it limply. "Then I wish you the best."

  "Thank you, Commander Hovart."

  It hurt. It really did. I liked him. I hated lying to him and I hated even more that he knew I was lying. Someday maybe I'd find him and explain. I consoled myself with that thought as I found my way back to my room.

  We attended another reception that night. This one was more exclusive and heavily guarded. Max wasn't there. He'd been hustled out under heavy guard the night before and flown straight back to Linas-Drias. From the story I heard, he wasn't supposed to even be on Perlion. He'd managed to run away again.

  It made my life more complicated. Now I had three possible targets for the shooter on top of all the other possible reasons for shooting up the reception. I stood in the line, smiling, and wishing my feet would quit hurting. I hated heels, I hated sandals, I hated dresses. I hated everything about the reception, but I smiled and pretended I was enjoying myself. I must have done it well enough. No one accused me of lying, at least not to my face.

  It was a relief to leave early the next morning . We were whisked away to the yacht while the sun peeped over the far horizon. By the time the sky was showing its fabled blue, we were well past the jump to hyperspace on our way back to Linas-Drias.

  Chapter 30

  The drydocks at Tebros were utilitarian. They existed as a building and repair base for ships, not for passenger comfort. The Phoenix fit neatly in one of the smaller bays. Technicians and engineers were crawling over the ship almost before it was docked.

  Clark turned to look while Jasyn signed off on the papers. Darus and Ginni insisted on staying with the ship. Beryn had his arm over the stationmaster's shoulders, convincing him they needed priority. Considering the stationmaster was a member of one of the subclans Beryn belonged to, the priority status was almost guaranteed. Twyla came off the ship, lugging Louie and a bulging bag of his things. Clark hurried to the hatch to help her. She handed off Louie.

  "The bag smells better and doesn't squirm or drool," she said.

  "Again?" Clark asked Louie, holding him out at arm's length.

  "Adaba," Louie said and giggled.

  "Are you sure about going down to the planet?" Twyla asked. "We could be good to go within a few hours if they give us priority."

  "If they have the parts in stock," Clark said. "Jasyn needs to get away for a while. We all do. Much as I love the ship, it is a bit small. Enjoy the break."

  "And make sure Ginni and Darus actually leave the ship for an hour or two, I know. They'll have to when they do the refittings." She handed him the bag and pushed him towards his wife. "Go enjoy yourself, Trevyn. And don't worry about us. Beryn and I will take care of the others. We'll expect you back in a day or two. Go." She shooed him away with her h
ands.

  He took his smelly, drooling son and went.

  Jasyn signed papers without arguing, not a good sign. Either the rates were very low, which he doubted, or she didn't care anymore about cost. Or something else was going on that he hadn't figured out yet.

  Jasyn glanced up as she finished signing. She handed the clipboard to the waiting engineer. The techs already had the engine ports open, tearing apart the damaged thruster assemblages.

  "Is something wrong?" Clark asked Jasyn.

  "Someone made this a bit too easy," she grumbled. "We have a priority shuttle waiting for us. Priority all the way. Since when did we merit that kind of treatment?"

  "It is a bit suspicious," Clark agreed. "Shall we find out the reason behind it?"

  Jasyn sniffed and wrinkled her nose. "Not until you take care of that smell."

  "He's your son."

  "I signed the papers. You have toxic waste duty. He's your son, too."

  "Adaba." Louie grabbed Clark's face with a slimy hand.

  "I'm sure they'll hold the shuttle," Jasyn said.

  Clark spoke around his son's fingers. "Do you think they'd mind if I used one of the offices?"

  "Use that one," Jasyn said, pointing across the hangar bay. "He deserves it ."

  "Yes, ma'am."

  The station official was not in the office. Clark wondered what the man had done to merit Jasyn's anger.

  "Nothing is bad enough for me to leave this here," Clark told Louie as he finished changing him. He left the diaper behind, though. There wasn't a disposal unit handy.

  The shuttle was still waiting when he arrived at the docking port. He was hurried on board, the hatch shutting almost on his heels. There was a seat next to Jasyn. Clark strapped Louie into it before taking the seat behind her.

  Louie looked around with his big eyes. He grinned at his mother. "Adaba," he announced. Jasyn smoothed his dark hair.

  The shuttle drifted away from the station, picking up speed as it circled down towards the planet. Clark leaned back in his seat. He hated shuttles, mostly because they wouldn't let him fly. He closed his eyes, trying to relax.

  "Who is this friend we're supposed to meet?" Jasyn asked, turning around in her seat to face him.