by Unknown
She'd done her best to avoid him since their earlier conversation, but it wasn't easy, given their cramped quarters and his tendency to roam around the small craft.
Earlier, she'd settled down in the comm room and called up her favorite ballet vid for entertainment. But no sooner had she begun to relax and enjoy it than he had joined her. Most Vantrans had a keen appreciation for the arts, and it soon became apparent that he was no exception.
She lay there thinking about her resentment of this man and of all Vantrans. Her contacts with them were rather limited, even though she had lived on their world for years. Trans/Med people were clannish and tended to socialize mostly among themselves. And her isolation from the Vantrans was even greater, since she spent so much of her time off-world.
She knew that some of her resentment had to do with their history, but as she thought about it now, she realized that it had more to do with the kind of people they were.
Vantrans were unfailingly generous with their technology and their great wealth, dispensing it liberally to all the poorer worlds. And off-worlders who visited or lived on their world were treated with great kindnesswhich was certainly not the case on many worldsincluding Tevingi.
But the result of all this was a deep, if carefully hidden, resentment, and Jalissa wondered if the Vantrans knew thatand if they did know it, whether or not they cared. Did they know, for example, that their very name was often used by other people to signal a trait in someone that offended others? ''Don't be so Vantran!" was an admonishment that needed no further clarification anywhere in the galaxy.
She had just begun to drift off to sleep when the cabin door opened, letting in some light from the passageway. Fortunately, she'd already turned to face the wall.
In the silence, she heard the whisper of clothing slipping from his body. But the effect upon her was as though he had shouted. Every fiber of her being went on full alert as her mind conjured up an image that sent a soft heat stealing through her.
The situation was intolerableand yet she'd have to endure it for weeks. She wondered what she would have done if she'd known ahead of time that she'd be forced to share sleeping quarters with him.
Then a thought struck her suddenly. If he had wanted to avoid taking her along on this mission, he could reasonably have assumed that informing her of the arrangements would have accomplished that.
She was wondering about the significance of that when she heard the door to the adjoining bath open and then close. Immediately, she felt her body begin to relax.
Could he have actually wanted her to join him? If so, it could only mean that Malvina was right. They wanted to discredit heror even to kill her.
And yet she could not believe that Panera would go to such an extreme, no matter how ruthless his reputation. Or was she merely engaging in that most foolish of enterprises: self-delusion?
She drifted with her thoughts: the danger of this mission, her sudden re-awakening to her origins, her incomprehensible attraction to a Vantran who might wish her harm. Accustomed to dealing only with problems outside herself, Jalissa found all of this very confusing.
The door opened again and she held her breath, then stiffened as she felt her bed move when he climbed up the small ladder to the upper bunk.
Was he naked? she wondered. She herself generally slept that way, but she was now wearing one of her loose, comfortable tunics. She hated herself for the images that now crept into her mind, bringing with them every story she'd ever heard about Vantran men.
Sleep was a very long time coming, and when it did, Jalissa only exchanged those tales for dreams: erotic dreams with a darkness at their coreas though even in sleep, her brain was trying to remind her of the danger posed by Miklos Panera.
She awoke the next morning feeling as though she hadn't slept at all. Memories of her dreams, as fragile as cobwebs, clung to her mind, then dissolved slowly as she pulled herself from bed.
The upper bunk was empty. Apparently, he'd had no trouble sleeping. She was angry that she couldn't seem to escape from him even in her sleep. In fact, sleep was even worse, since at least when she was conscious, she could rein in her wayward thoughts.
Exercise, she thought as she stumbled toward the bathroom. That will make you feel better. She groaned as the mirror reflected back to her the image of a woman with tousled black hair and dark-ringed eyes.
After putting on the brief, second-skin suit everyone wore for exercising, Jalissa opened the door into the passageway and peered out cautiously, hoping that Panera wasn't about to put in one of his sudden appearances. Probably he was catching up on the galactic news: the secret Special Agency version, that is.
But when she walked into the exercise room, he was already there. She stopped in the doorway, fighting the urge to turn and leave. The room was adequate for two people at the same timebut not when one of them was the man who had just finished haunting her dreams.
He was wearing only a pair of second-skin briefs, and his bronzed body was glistening with sweat as he worked with the series of weights designed to exercise all muscles. Even in the much larger exercise facilities aboard the giant spacecraft, he would have drawn her attentionbut here, in this cramped space, he was overwhelming.
His gaze swept briefly over her as he greeted her, but she could read nothing in it. She realized that this was the first time he'd seen her in anything but the voluminous robe of her profession. It wasn't likely, though, that she impressed him. She was so much smaller and more curvaceous than Vantran women.
She returned the greeting, then turned her back on him and went to the exercise mat, where she immediately began the series of stretching exercises she did every day. Her body was very limber, thanks to the rigorous dance training all children of the Coven went through almost from the time they could walk.
Halfway through her routine, she realized that the sounds behind her had ceased, and she paused, then turned, hoping that he might have left. But instead, he was sitting on the weight bench watching her.
"You've studied dance," he said, making it a statement and not a question.
She nodded, concealing her uneasiness.
"I didn't know that Tevingians went in for that sort of thing."
"They don't, as a rulebut my family did." If she stretched it a bit, it was true. They had encouraged her to keep up her practice and her adopted sister had joined her. But in general, he was right. Tevingians had almost no appreciation for any of the arts, which had often made life difficult for Genna, her adopted sister. That was why she'd left Tevingi for an art colony on a distant world.
"I still go to classes at the Academy," she added, referring to the prestigious Academy of Dance on Vantra. "When I'm not off-world, that is."
"My mother sits on their Board of Governors. She was once a principal dancer."
"I know. I've seen vids of her performances. She was wonderful." Her appreciation was sincere. Davin Panera was almost as good as the best of the Coven's dancers.
Jalissa turned away and completed her routine, then got up and went over to one of the pieces of equipment. But she quickly realized that the proportions were wrong for her. It had clearly been designed for the much bigger Vantrans.
He came over to examine it, bringing with him the not unpleasant odor of masculine sweat. "I think it can be adjusted. You're the first non-Vantran to travel on a U-."
It was an honor she could have done without. She stepped back as he began to make some adjustments, and at that moment, the ship's comm unit came to life.
"Sir, there's some news you should look at immediately."
Their eyes met, the question hanging in the small space between them. Had there been another sighting? He excused himself and hurried off to the comm room.
Jalissa was tempted to follow him, but she didn't know if the news had come over the regular channels or the ones limited to the military. She hoped that it wouldn't mean a change of course, since she'd been looking forward to a visit to Tevingi, even if it wasn't under the be
st of circumstances.
She also hoped fervently that the wayward Warlock hadn't been captured. If he had, she would have to think very carefully about the possible dangers of her further involvement. The Warlock would certainly recognize her as being a Witch, and while it was unthinkable that he would give her away, he was already doing the unthinkable.
Panera was back within a few minutes. "I'm afraid you'll have to cut your exercise short. We've just had a report that our man might be on Torondi, so we're changing course and going there."
She hid her relief that the Warlock hadn't yet been captured, and instead gave him a confused look. "Why should I stop my exercises?"
"You're about to discover the secret of the U-. The only reason it hasn't been announced yet is that its usefulness is very limited. Do you know anything at all about propulsion systems or time-travel theory?"
She shook her head.
"All right then. I'll just say that this ship has a totally new propulsion system that allows it, for brief periods of time, to exceed the speed of light far beyond anything we have been previously capable of. During that period, the laws of physics operate differently, and the net result is that we can cover the distance that would normally take a week in a few hours."
She stared at him in astonishment. She might not know much about physics, but what she was hearing was obviously the biggest advance in space travel in many decades.
Panera allowed himself that small smile of satisfaction she'd seen before on Vantrans when they'd just dazzled the rest of the galaxy with their scientific prowess.
"The problem," he went on, "is that the maneuver requires enormous amounts of fuel, so its usefulness is quite limited at present. But I've decided that it's justified in this case if it means we can get to Torondi in time to capture him, or failing that, to get some fresh first-hand reports.
"It will stretch our fuel supply to its limits, but we can refuel on Torondi.
"We'll have to be strapped into our cots during the whole maneuver, and I must warn you that it's a bit disorienting, which is another problem we're working on."
Her expression obviously mirrored her fear at becoming part of an experiment because Panera smiled at her. "Don't worry, Jalissa. It's perfectly safe. You might experience some dizziness, but that's all."
Then he chuckled, a pleasant sound that vibrated through her. "Of course, since you distrust bubbles, I'm sure you will worry, despite what I say."
"How long will this take?" she inquired as she followed him back to their cabin.
"About five hours. You could take a sleep-drug."
It was a tempting thought, but she disliked them and decided against it.
"When we return to normal operations, we'll still be about ten hours from Torondi. That's be- cause there's a safety factor built into the calculations. We can't afford to enter Torondi's gravitational field at X-speed."
"I think I'd rather not hear all the details," she muttered.
He laughed. "Sorry. I guess I'm being too 'Vantran.'"
She stopped in her tracks and stared at him and he chuckled. "Did you think that we don't know how others see us? Climb into your bunk and I'll show you how to strap yourself in."
She did as told, her estimate of him moving up several notches. He was certainly arrogant, but at least he had a sense of humor, a trait she would never before have associated with his race.
He showed her how to fit the straps over her body, then went over to the comm unit and announced that they were ready. "You'll feel a slight shudder in the ship. It's nothing to worry about. It's been designed to withstand far more than this."
Seconds after he had climbed into his bunk, a loud chime soundedand a moment later, the ship did indeed begin to shudder slightly. Then she heard a high-pitched whine that was very near the limits of her hearing.
His disembodied voice floated down to her as he repeated the report he'd received. It was sketchy at best, but it did sound like the man they were seeking. Torondi was one of those worlds everyone else tried to avoid. It was as primitive as many of the Outer Ring worlds: a swampy, dark place populated by small clans of leathery-skinned people who ignored any attempts to improve their lives. No Whisperer had set foot on it during her time in the Service, though she knew that a few had done so in the past.
"I'll admit that it's a likely place for an uprising," Panera said. "They have no love for the Federation. But there have never been any problems there in the pastexcept among themselves, of course. We've by and large left them alone. There's a small Federation force there, of course, but they've never done any real exploring because the place has never seemed worth it.
"On the other hand, they were once under the sway of the Coven, so they could appeal to this supposed Warlock."
"I'm not sure how effective I can be there," she admitted. "Their language is very difficult even for us. I worked with it when I was in training, but that's all."
"I've been there only once myself, and that was also years ago during my training. Two months of foul-smelling swamps and maneating snakes and that accursed whistling of theirs."
Jalissa smiled at his candor. It was the first time she'd ever heard a Vantran speak ill of another world. And then he surprised her again.
''I'm sorry that we have to delay our trip to Tevingi, since I know you must be looking forward to a visit with your family. But I think we should establish quickly that this isn't our 'Warlock.' He'd have to have better transport than I think he has to have gotten there so quickly."
She said nothing. A strange feeling had come over her: a tingling sensation throughout her body and a vague nausea. When she didn't respond, he spoke her name sharply.
"I . . . I feel strange."
She heard a sudden movement in the bunk above her, and then he vaulted to the cabin floor, not bothering with the ladder.
"You'll be fine," he said. "It shouldn't get any worse. Are you certain that you don't want a sleeper?"
She nodded, wondering why the presence of a man she couldn't trust seemed so reassuring. Something tickled her mind, a fleeting memory that she couldn't quite reach.
He sat down on the edge of her bunk, still clad only in his exercise briefs. "It seems to affect some people more than others. For reasons we don't yet understand, women are often more affected than men. Do you feel ill?"
She shook her head. "I did for a moment, but I'm fine now, except for that tingling sen- sation. Shouldn't you be strapped in?"
"Those are just safety regulations. It isn't really necessary most of the time. Occasionally, the ship can shake a bit more than it is now."
Then, as if to prove his point, the ship suddenly began to shudder more violently. He leaned over her, bracing himself against the post at the corner of her bunk. Their eyes metand for one breath-snatching moment, Jalissa saw what she had never expected to see in him: the naked, primitive desire of a man for a woman!
The ship settled down and he moved away, now avoiding her gaze. After murmuring a few words of reassurance, he climbed back up to his own bunk.
She wanted to believe that she'd been mistaken. The rational side of her mind told her that she must be. Vantrans did occasionally take lovers from among other races, but it was a rare occurrence.
Then she recalled with a sudden chill the disgraced Whisperer who'd taken a Vantran Special Agent as a lover. Could he intend to seduce her in order to discredit her? Was Miklos Panera capable of such a vile act? It surprised her to be able to deny that. She didn't know this man, but her instincts told her that what she'd seen, however fleetingly, had been real.
Chapter Three
"We're in orbit around Torondi now, sir."
Jalissa was jolted out of her dreams by the voice on the comm. But this time, the dream remained sharply etched on her mind, and she felt herself grow warm as the images tumbled about in her brain. Still groggy, she tried to sit up, only to find herself immobilized. For a few seconds, the dream and the reality merged, and it was Miklos Panera, his bronzed
, naked flesh glistening and his green eyes glittering with raw, primitive desire, that held her down.
Then, just as she realized that it was the restraining straps instead, Panera appeared, once more vaulting down from his bunk. The eyes that met hers briefly were unreadable now. Seeing her struggle against the bonds, he reached to undo them and his bare arm brushed lightly across her breasts. He seemed not to have even noticed, but she was barely able to stifle a cry.
"If you want to get a look at Torondi, come to the command center," he said as he turned to leave. "It's a rather striking sight."
She said nothing, since she didn't trust her voice. His touch had been so brief and casual, and yet her nipples were hardened and straining against the thin fabric of the exercise suit she still wore.
She began to doubt her earlier certainty: not that she'd seen desire in his eyes, because she was sure of that. But now she doubted that it had been genuine. Or was he merely struggling as she was, to avoid complications?
No, she thought. There would be no complications for him. His superiors would welcome the opportunity such a liaison would produce. Discrediting her would help his careernot that it needed any help.
She pulled herself from those thoughts with difficulty and got up to follow him to the command center. Torondi was indeed a striking sight as it filled the now-opened viewport. A veritable rainbow of colors surrounded the planet, with the predominant one being a shade of green that was a perfect match for his eyes. She'd never seen anything like it, and told him that.
"The colors are the result of rare gasses in their upper atmosphere that fortunately stay there. If they didn't, we'd be forced to wear breathers. Below it, there's a layer of clouds, so you don't see the colors from the planet itself, except at sunset, and even then, it's not as striking as it is from up here."
Several hours later, they were aboard a Federation hovercraft, skimming just above the surface of the mist-shrounded swamps, en route to the isolated town where a stranger had been reported. The reports were sketchy and the man was supposedly gone, but both of them doubted that it was the man they sought.