I don’t think you’re ready for a jaunt to Earth yet, Afra said. ‘Good morning, Rowan. We’ve got some pretty heavy stuff to shift.’
She glared at the Capellan, knowing he was right. And yet, if she didn’t take the plunge, when would she? Why shouldn’t she – if she was only reacting to a conditioning? But his caution, and his obvious concern, deflated her impetus. She was not all that sure of her reconditioning – not just after one swing to Demos. Her glare was the signal for everyone to become intensely interested in lists or keyboards or any task that took them out of her immediate vicinity.
‘Now listen up, you lot. There’s two hours and fifty minutes before Callisto clears Jupiter. You all know how to set up the day’s shifts without Afra and me. Afra,’ and she intensified her glare, ‘I want to go back to Demos again. Now!’
‘As you wish,’ he said in an unexpected capitulation. She caught a very suspicious glint in his yellow eyes before he turned his head away. And his shields were up tight as air-lock seals. She decided to ignore him and marched back out of the Tower and down to the launch.
This time, though she strained her eyes wide to catch any motion, Afra’s lift was so smooth that she had the bulk of Demos before her eyes again. This time she did look about her, and if her breathing quickened, she initiated control and steadied herself. The view was rather spectacular.
Is Earth visible from his position? she asked Afra. She caught her breath again as her capsule altered direction.
Cut in the visual magnification. Second position on your right fingerboard, Afra told her.
Four taps and the cloud-swirled marble of Mankind’s world became clearly visible. Its moon hung like a milky pebble, fully lit by the distant sun. Awesome to think that the insignificant speck in the vast space-black panorama had spawned those now inhabiting the planets of far distant suns.
Suddenly she became very conscious of the blackness around her: too much dark and she was confined in a very small space … And she didn’t even have Purza for comfort!
Easy, Rowan! And abruptly she was back in the launch site on Callisto, Afra unsealing the lid of her personnel carrier, his yellow skin sallow with anxiety.
Shaking, she held her arms out to him. He lifted her out of the capsule and ran with her back into the Tower, yelling vocally and mentally for a stimulant.
Blackness! Why blackness, Afra? I was all right, truly all right, until I thought of the blackness …
And claustrophobia, Afra added. He took the glass Ray offered and held it to her lips. She was shaking too much to hold it herself.
ROWAN! Jeff’s anxious shout made her wince.
I’m all right, Jeff. I’m all right.
Blackness. Why are you reacting to blackness, Rowan? Why do I see the pukha in your mind?
I don’t know, Jeff. I don’t know. I’m all right. Afra’s determined to get me drunk early today! She tried to lighten up her mind tone: she didn’t want to upset him because she’d experienced a moment’s silly panic.
Scared me half to death, you did! Jeff went on and she was as aware of the pounding of his heart as her own.
Jeff, she’s all right, Afra said, initiating metamorphic massage to reduce her tension.
‘It wasn’t space. It was the blackness. The awful blackness.’
Damn it! I’ve had just about enough of this! Jeff Raven said, his tone incandescent with fury.
DENEB! and Reidinger’s roar made even the Rowan’s skull vibrate. Afra rolled his eyes in intense mental pain, clutching at his head. Primes don’t have privileges! She’s only shaken. And there’ll be no more of these experiments, Rowan. YOU HEAR ME?
Even I can hear you, said David of Betelgeuse sourly.
I think you’re being extremely selfish, Reidinger, came from Capella.
I told you this could be fatal, was Siglen’s moan.
Leave me alone! the Rowan said, furious at being the center of so much unnecessary attention. Go away and get back to business. Reidinger’s made his point!
Jeff’s parting phantom caress did not make it any easier for the Rowan to ascend to the Tower, and her couch, and try to focus her thoughts on the day’s business. A steaming cup of java appeared and she reached for it gratefully. Deep inside her something was frozen, some black … something odorous? A whiff that she couldn’t identify – a reek that was connected with the frightening blackness. Not today’s darkness, a smelly, clanging, revolving darkness. That was what had set off her panic – revolving around to see Earth … Just as the bucking Miraki had panicked her with Turian sailing up the Straits that time. But it had been a ‘spinning’ motion that had triggered her on the Jibooti on her first space voyage.
Cargo coming in, Afra said, bringing her back to her responsibilities.
Once again Callisto Tower staff moved with dull efficiency through the day’s tasks, with none of the livening humor or even bad temper that signalized an off-day for the Rowan.
Callisto was space-side of Jupiter and receiving the last of the in-bound receipts, which would be downshipped once the Moon was again Earth-side, when an emergency signal for live cargo lit up the board.
Live one coming in, Rowan, Brian Ackerman warned her in his capacity of Stationmaster. She’d lost her deft touch in the late afternoon, unusual enough for her, but as the packets were not marked fragile, he hadn’t remonstrated.
Now what? she demanded but she retrieved the capsule with more care.
Some Fleet nerd to judge by the ID … Brian began and then broke off.
At first the Rowan did not notice the silence from her staff. It was day’s end and, with that tardy capsule, the generators were growling down to rest. She was making a neater pile of deliveries and transshipment copies when she heard someone taking the Tower steps two at a time.
‘Tut tut, I didn’t think I could really put this over on you so easily!’ And it was Jeff Raven who swung the door wide, his blue eyes brilliant with teasing – and his love. ‘I don’t think you’ve missed me at all!’
The Rowan didn’t bother to answer his jibe. She grabbed his hand and launched them into her quarters, into her bedroom, out of their clothing, proving in every way possible just how much she had missed him and exactly what she had missed the most of him.
*
At several points during that magical night, they had time to exchange words rather than emotional extravagances.
‘I’ve a new nephew, you see,’ he said, cuddling her against him, her head on his shoulder, her body edged as closely to his as was possible, her legs entwined about one of his. With one ear on his chest, she could hear his voice rumbling up from his diaphragm. ‘And I was congratulating Mother when she reminded me that a day of rest from hard labor has long been ordained. So, with the impetuosity for which I am known on Deneb, I tagged an assortment of reliable people to hold the planet secure for at least one day, and came back for what I’ve been aching for!’
‘I shall bless your mother forever!’
‘She’s mighty curious about you, I will say. I have informed her that holograms do not do you justice.’
‘Does she have any Talent?’
‘Oh, masses, but she’s never trained much, so sometimes her use of what she has can be quite devastating,’ and Jeff’s chuckle began where her left hand rested on his flat belly. There wasn’t, the Rowan realized, a spare ounce of flesh on him anywhere. He was much too thin. Eating’s the last thing on my mind, love! ‘I don’t think she has enough range for Callisto but, if she put her mind to it, she could blast a message to us anywhere in the City and down on the farm.’ His chuckle turned rueful. ‘Could never put anything over on our Mom.’
‘I never knew my mother!’
Jeff’s arms pressed her lovingly. ‘I know, pet. I know.’ He shifted suddenly, raising up on one elbow, breaking the physical closeness that the Rowan was reveling in. ‘Why is that Purza on your mind again? I know the function of a pukha, but it’s no surrogate mother!’
‘You’re digging d
eep.’
‘No,’ and Jeff frowned slightly, soothing her hair back from her face and gathering up a handful from the pillow, fascinated by its paleness in the dim light of the room. ‘I’m not. Not half as deep as I intend to dig. And speaking of digging, or delving …’
And that ended that conversation though the Rowan was fleetingly aware as Jeff stroked her body with deft erotic caresses that the interruption was deliberate. She was soon too involved on too many levels of exquisite lovemaking to complain. Jeff was incredible and kept urging her on to new delights.
When at last they moved apart an inch or so, Jeff’s stomach emitted a rolling growl which the Rowan’s answered.
‘By God, we’ve even got compatible digestions.’
‘And you need feeding up. Does no-one take care of you on Deneb?’ she demanded, half her attention on manipulating food items from freezer to heating chamber.
‘Got any Terran beef steak up here?’ he asked, following her efforts. ‘We lost most of our food animals in the bombardments and we can’t really plant until we clear the fields of metal objects. I don’t care how nutritious the processed stuff is supposed to be, it tastes bloody awful. Oh,’ and he inhaled the aroma of grilling meat that wafted into the bedroom, ‘and never smells right. What a talented woman I’ve found!’ And he expressed his appreciation in the most delightful way.
‘Jeff! The meat’ll burn!’
‘Oh, a little charcoal does you no harm! Got to eat a peck of dirt, you know …’
‘JEFF! That’s the only decent steak I have right now!’
‘Oh, in that case …’and he desisted.
After they had ravenously consumed a huge meal – with the Rowan going back again and again to her larder to supply them with the high-protein substances they both needed to fuel their ardor – they made love again. They slept so soundly that neither heard Afra’s discreet knocking, nor the ringing of the comsystem.
I do beg your pardons! Afra inserted the phrase politely in each mind, repeating it with more mental force until the Rowan roused.
She felt deliciously rested, totally sated …
Rowan! You’re broadcasting … Afra said with a discreet mental cough.
Startled into full consciousness, the Rowan felt the unexpected heat of a blush. Afra would never ‘look’ but nonetheless she covered herself with a fold of the thermal sheet. Jeff Raven grumbled sleepily, one hand searching for a touch of her.
‘Jeff! Wake up! We’ve overslept!’
‘Nonsense. Today’s my day off!’ He opened one eye.
‘I think that was yesterday, Jeff.’
She’s right! Reidinger doesn’t know you’re here …
Why not? Jeff pulled himself to a sitting position and then hauled the Rowan back into his arms, his hands lightly caressing her.
He’s not… Afra faltered. He’s in a very touchy mood.
That’s not unusual! Jeff refused to be cowed. He threw us together on purpose and now I’m here on purpose so he can like it or lump it.
Tell him the truth, Afra, the Rowan added. I overslept and I’ll be back at work as soon as I’ve had a decent breakfast.
Aware that she had, indeed, been delinquent in her own responsibilities, the Rowan tried to wriggle free. But Jeff merely tightened his arms, keeping her close.
Trouble with Reidinger is, he says jump, and every single one of you asks how high! Well, this Denebian lad doesn’t! ‘IS there anything left to eat in the house, dearling?’ And, as if he hadn’t a care in the world, Jeff grinned fondly down at the woman held firmly against him.
The Rowan swallowed, both appalled by and admiring of Jeff’s nonchalance.
‘I think, lovely, it isn’t only Siglen’s conditioning you must slough off.’ His voice was soft, very gentle but with an edge in it that gave her another, totally new perspective on Jeff Raven of Deneb. ‘That FT&T of yours has exploited you for such a long time that you’ve never stopped to realize that you, as a Prime AND a citizen of Central Worlds, have certain inalienable rights that you haven’t even bothered to exercise!’ He dropped an affectionate kiss on the end of her nose. ‘And it’s time to exercise! Last one in the pool has to take the day off.’ He began to unwind himself from her and the covers.
With all respect, Rowan, Raven, Afra said, still standing outside the dwelling, we managed well enough yesterday but there’s a passenger carrier coming in that needs the Rowan’s gentle touch.
So it has to stay cradled for half an hour, Jeff replied, employing his mouth to plant kisses on places of the Rowan that he had somehow missed earlier. Tell the Captain it’s generator trouble. I have it all the time on Deneb. No-one minds!
‘But, Jeff, not a passenger ship. That’s a contractual violation …’ the Rowan began.
‘And violating the contract we’ve been forming is a far more heinous crime in my eyes,’ and he leered at her, his black hair hanging over his eyes to give him a very piratical appearance. We shan’t be that long, Afra! Tell them they have to give way to a priority shipment. Me. And it’s not ready to launch yet.
Their swim was less than brisk but more than languid, interspersed as it was with loving kisses and caresses. Just the touch of his hand roused the Rowan, so totally unused to any physical contact. She kept in tactile contact as if loosing touch would somehow lessen their incredible rapport.
Between them – for Jeff was becoming familiar with the storage and cooking facilities in her kitchen – they had breakfast ready by the time they had dressed.
On their way to the launch pad, the Rowan’s hand tucked and held against Jeff’s arm, Reidinger’s angry shout made her wince.
No need to shout, Jeff Raven replied mildly.
WHAT ARE YOU DOING THERE?
Spending my day of rest …
HA!
Now, now, Reidinger, there is a long-standing precedent for rest days, and I haven’t had one, and my lovely Rowan certainly hasn’t had one … Jeff looked down at her, his blue eyes glinting with pure mischief and a broad grin spreading across his mobile features. He restrained the Rowan from quickening her pace in her obedient effort to placate the angry Earth Prime and held her to his lazy saunter.
You have a contract with FT&T …
So I do, so do you, and does the Rowan, but nowhere in that contract does it stipulate we are obliged to work a seven day week, twenty-four or twenty-six-hour day. His tone abruptly changed. Now butt out, Reidinger. You’re invading our privacy. And that IS a contract violation!
Some kind of a sound, initiated and abruptly severed, similar to a gargle of pure rage, echoed in their heads. Jeff grinned and the Rowan looked anxious.
‘Honey, don’t let him exploit you any more. We can do without him, but he and the mighty FT&T can’t do without us! Remember that. Stiff upper lip and all that guff.’ They had reached the battered personnel carrier, in which he had made his surreptitious arrival. Now he took her into his arms again, tucking her head under his chin, their bodies as close physically as their minds were. He said nothing, savoring the contact. Abruptly he released her, kissed her cheek, and stretched himself out in the carrier. ‘Same time six days from now, dearling.’ The hatch covered his reassuring grin.
Scurrying to the Tower, the Rowan pressed her lips tightly against the pain of this farewell, somehow more intense than when she hadn’t known what she would be missing.
Now, then, honey, neither distance nor time can really separate us! And he gave a quick demonstration that made her gasp. See what I mean?
Her cheeks were burning in the cooler air of the passageway. Ducking her head so that none of the Station personnel could see her face as she entered the Tower, she took the steps two at a time. By the time she had taken her place, the generators had hit their peak whine.
Safe trip! she said, as she spun his shell back to Deneb. A kiss that lasted beyond the moons of Neptune brought a smile to her face. Then she flipped up the com to the waiting passenger liner. ‘I do apologize for the slight delay, Capta
in, but if you are prepared, we can launch at your convenience.’
Either he was an unusually tolerant master or someone in the Station had dropped a discreet word, but he made no more comment than to request the lift at the mark of five minutes.
All that day the Rowan half expected a blast from Reidinger, so she took particular care to keep incoming and outgoing shipments moving in a steady flow. Nor did she receive any word from Jeff over the next five days. She was, however, in very constant and reassuring touch with her lover: his presence palpable in her mind, like a silken touch in the corner of her mind, a feather-gentle caress.
That was probably why it was such a shock when abruptly she became aware of the absence of that touch.
Jeff? She felt more alone than she had when Purza had been destroyed, than when she had been … in the tumbling blackness. Jeff! She strengthened her mental shaft, swiveling in her chair in Deneb’s relative direction. JEFF! Anxiety took the place of surprise. JEFF RAVEN!
What’s the matter, Rowan? Afra asked, now aware of her concern.
He’s gone. His touch is gone!
She heard several people rushing up the steps to her Tower.
We’ll link! Afra suggested as he, Brian Ackerman, and Ray Loftus entered the room.
She opened to them and, tapping the generator power, called again. Panicking, she turned to Afra.
‘He isn’t there! He’s surely heard us!’ She tried to keep her voice steady, but Afra was far too sensitive not to feel her growing terror.
The tall Capellan took hold of her hands. ‘Breathe more slowly, Rowan. There can be many reasons …’
‘No! No, it’s as if he’d been blotted out suddenly. You can’t understand …’
Rowan? The mental call was faint, heard only because the Rowan was linked with the others. Rowan …
‘You see, I told you …’ Afra began and she yanked her hands out of his.
‘That’s not Jeff!’ Yes?
Come at once! Jeff needs you!
The Rowan Page 18