Starbridge

by A. C. Crispin

  "By the time we get to Earth," Rob said to Mahree, in English, "we'll be so blase about First Contacts that nobody will be able to stand us."

  She giggled. "I can picture it now. 'And then there was the time I spent the afternoon with that creature from the ammonia ocean--now what was its name?' "

  Ahead of them, Shirazz halted before a spot in the tunnel wall. "Here are your quarters," she said, and a discernible opening appeared in the previously featureless surface. "And your comrade is there." She indicated another door not far away.

  The doorway slid open. "Please," Shirazz murmured, ushering them in. The humans preceded her into an apartment half the size of Rosinante, consisting of a sitting room, furnished in typical Simiu fashion, a small galley, a bedroom, and beyond it, in the head, something that made Mahree gasp with anticipation. "The bath! Thank you so much, Esteemed Shirazz!"

  "Is there any way to adjust the lighting level downward?" Rob asked the Mizari. "Simiu light is too white for our eyes. We prefer a lower level, and more yellow than white light."

  "I will show you how to adjust the light levels and reach your friend on the intercom, HealerGable," Shirazz said, and bowed to Mahree, who returned the salutation. "Enjoy your bath, Honored Mahree," she said, and the young woman thought she

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  detected a hint of kind amusement. Shirazz then undulated back out to the other room, Rob trailing behind her.

  Mahree looked at the deep, circular depression in the floor that was filled with water, the liquid bubbling slightly from the circulating jets near the bottom of the small pool. The "tub" was easily three meters across, and had one side that sloped upward in a ramp. Of course, she thought. So the Mizari can get in and out easily. A narrow ledge ran around its inside, about halfway up.

  The young woman opened her bag and pulled out her soap and shampoo.

  Then she stepped out of her clothing, and, with a disdainful grimace, tossed it over to the other side of the room. Hanging on cautiously to the edge, in case the bottom was slippery, Mahree lowered herself into the warm water with a sigh of pure happiness.

  For a few minutes she just basked, allowing the dirt to loosen up, then she began scrubbing herself briskly.

  Mahree had just dunked her head to rinse it of its first lathering'and then raised it again when she heard Rob's voice. "How's the water?"

  Holding her nose, she tipped her head backward, submerging it so the long strands wouldn't blind her, then she wiped the water from her eyes. He was leaning in the doorway, not quite looking at her. "Fine," she said, absurdly glad that her hair floated around her, covering her exposed shoulders. "It could be a little hotter, but, under the circumstances, you managed wonderfully. I would never have thought of describing temperatures the way you did."

  "Desperation is the mother of invention," he said cheerfully. "Shirazz had to call her staff and remind them to bring the lengths of Simiu cloth for toweling." He hefted several scarlet and blue thicknesses lying across his arms. "I got the feeling heads are going to roll. Conrad Hilton could've learned a lot from her."

  "Conrad who?"

  "Never mind," he said. "Where do you want me to leave your towel?"

  Mahree hesitated for a long moment, then suddenly grinned sheepishly. "Oh, Rob, don't be silly! I'm not going to make you wait while I soak, and I don't intend to climb out in a hurry just so you can get in! Come on in, the water's fine."

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  When he hesitated, she beckoned with a soapy arm, reaching for her shampoo again. "C'mon!"

  She was bent over scrubbing her scalp when she felt the water surge higher as his body displaced it. And, despite her brave words, she didn't look up until she was certain that he was fully immersed.

  When she glanced up, she saw that he was sitting a little more than arm's length away. Balancing on the narrow ledge, slumped far down on his spine so the water rose chin-deep, he had his head tilted back, and wore an expression of utter beatitude. "Don't anyone disturb me for about a hundred years," he sighed. "I may never move again."

  Mahree smiled as she soaped her hands and arms yet again. "It almost makes up for the whole trip, doesn't it? Desiree doesn't have anything to match this!"

  Finally he stirred and sat up straight. "Now for those layers of grime," he said. She noticed that he was careful to look her directly in the eyes. The water was cloudy, but the circulating jets kept it from being completely opaque. "Lend me your soap?"

  "Sure," she said, and held it out to him. His hand brushed hers as he took it, and Mahree blushed. She turned away and briskly began squeezing de-tangler through her hair, then rinsed it again. Not looking up, she began finger-combing out the knots, wondering how the hell she was going to get herself out of the tub and into a towel. You're being ridiculous, she thought, You've been sleeping next to this man for days, this is silly . . .

  But she felt the way she had the time she'd stood on the edge of Desiree's airlock, looking out into space. A quivery, fluttery feeling, as though someone had turned the gravity off.

  Water sloshed over her shoulders as Rob submerged himself, then came up streaming. For a moment he was staring directly at her, and there was something in his eyes that caused Mahree to color again--a male awareness of herself as a female. She gulped nervously. "Want some help with that?"

  he said, moving close enough to pick up a strand of the hair that lay plastered against her shoulder, half its length floating like some kind of exotic seaweed. "Need your back washed?"

  "Uh ..." she stammered, hastily backing away. "I . . . no, not really. I mean, I already did that ..."

  "Okay," he said, amiably, but something flickered in his 234

  eyes that might have been disappointment, "guess I'd better go see if Shirazz had that food delivered yet. You think Dhurrrkk's okay? Should we check on him?"

  Mahree shook her head. "He's fine, but he was definite about wanting to be by himself," she said, then hastily glanced away as Rob pulled himself out of the tub. She heard him slosh over to the "towels," then the soft whisper of the woven material as he dried himself off. Then his footsteps receded into the sleeping room.

  She shook herself, then put both hands on the edge of the pool behind her and pulled herself up out of the bath water. Sitting on the edge of the pool, she hastily squeezed the water out of her hair, then blotted it with the Simiu towel. You idiot, she thought, a painful lump in her throat, her stomach in knots. What's wrong with you? Why did you back off like that?

  Paradoxically, she was also furious with Rob, for not making more of a move, for not pursuing the issue. Why did he have to drop it? Why couldn't he have . . . She frowned as insight flooded her. Because he's a decent guy, dummy.

  Mahree took a deep breath and swung her legs out of the tub. Hastily, she dried herself with the scarlet length of Simiu fabric, then wrapped it around her body, loosely knotting it over her breasts. Her knees felt weak and shaky as she walked quietly into the room with the sleeping mats. Rob was there, his makeshift towel wrapped around his waist, his back to her.

  As she approached soundlessly, he held up a shirt, sniffed cautiously, then called out, pitching his voice to carry into the bathroom, "Whew! The next thing on the agenda had better be laundry. Everything I have smells worse than a locker room. How much soap do you have left?"

  Mahree's heart felt as though it were trying to burst its way out of her throat.

  She swallowed it back down, then put a hand on his shoulder. He started violently, but then, realizing who was behind him, he stood still, muscles tense beneath her fingers. Mahree had to wet her lips before she could whisper, "Nearly a whole container. But can't the laundry wait?"

  Rob did not reply, only remained unmoving as she slowly, deliberately, trailed her fingers and palm across the width of his back to his other shoulder, then ran them downward, spiraling back and forth along his spine.

  "You know, Rob," she murmured softly, "I've been thinking about how big this station is. And almost all of it, apparently, h
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  atmosphere. That means there's lots and lots and lots of air here. Air to burn ... air to waste."

  Her fingers had reached the edge of the blue fabric at his waist by now, and, taking a deep breath, Mahree slid them beneath it, running her hand over his buttock. Sparse, soft hairs tickled her palm. "Want to waste some air, Rob?"

  Without warning, he whirled to face her, his hands closing on her shoulders, his eyes holding hers. The sudden motion of his body had pulled the blue towel loose, but he ignored that as he stared at her intently. "Are you sure, Mahree?" he said, and she saw the pulse leap beneath his jaw. "Real y sure?"

  She nodded. "I'm sure," she whispered, though again she had to moisten her lips before she could speak. Her teeth wanted to chatter, and she clenched them to control the urge.

  Rob leaned a little closer, his eyes searching her features, concerned. His hands tightened on her shoulders. "You scared?" he demanded. "Tell me the truth."

  Mahree shook her head. "Not scared," she corrected, her voice emerging with more strength. "Just nervous. But I know what I want."

  He gave her a wry grin. "I'm nervous, too." Slowly, his fingers moved up to tenderly caress her throat, the line of her jaw. He slid his arms around her, at first gently, then they tightened, pulling her against him hungrily.

  This kiss was different from their first, less tentative, more sensual. More deliberately arousing. For endless moments Rob's lips lightly brushed hers, tracing, nibbling, tantalizing, until Mahree could stand it no more. Opening her mouth wide against his, she captured his tongue with her own. She felt him pull away slightly, then felt him stroking her nipples, her back, her buttocks, and realized with a faraway part of her mind that her towel had gone the way of his.

  She clung to him, dizzy from the feel of his body against hers. Finally, when she was gasping and trembling, he lowered her onto the bed.

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  CHAPTER 16

  Something Special?

  Yesterday Rob and I became lovers, but that's by no means the most important thing that's happened in the last two days. (Though it certainly has been the most enjoyable!)

  It all started tonight, when Dhurrrkk', Rob, Shirazz, and I ate dinner together in Dhurrrkk's suite. Not surprisingly, the Guest Liaison was lovely company, urbane, witty, and entertaining. She and Rob had a lot to talk about, because she's a physician, as well as a diplomat. (Being a Mizari healer means that you treat the entire person--body, mind, and spirit.)

  We wound up telling her the entire story of how we'd come to be aboard Desiree, and of the Human/Simiu contact. Dhurrrkk', Rob, and I took turns relating our adventures--with one important exception. Before we docked at Shassiszss Station, the three of us decided that it would be best not to mention Doctor Blanket and Avernus until we discovered how things stood with the CLS. So we left all that out.

  (When it was my turn, I made sure that I filled in all the gaps in Rob's story, because he tends to downplay his achievements. But Rob repaid me, in kind. Some of the things he and Dhurrrkk' said about me had me blushing.) Even though I enjoyed speaking Mizari with a native, Shirazz was also careful to have both Rob and me talk to her in English, so she could test out the translation program the Mizari had adapted from the one Dhurrrkk' and I put together aboard

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  Rosinante. Not surprisingly, we found a few bugs, the most notable of which was the substitution of the definition of "pubic" for "public." Good thing we caught that!

  Apparently the story of our dramatic entrance has spread around the station.

  Dhurrrkk' said the First Councillor referred to it when she called him this morning. I gather she wasn't pleased. At least the publicity makes it impossible for the Simiu to simply "disappear" Dhurrrkk'. I wish I had a holovid of that scene in the corridor. We must've looked like something out of one of Rob's Marx Brothers films.

  Anyway, after the "party" broke up last night, Rob and Dhurrrkk' came back here so Dhurrrkk' could see our bathtub. I lingered in Dhurrrkk's suite, talking to Shirazz. When I told her that I was worried about Dhurrrkk', she explained to me that the CLS would do everything in their power to keep him safe while he was here on Shassiszss Station, but that it was against League policy for them to interfere with the Simiu legal process.

  Then she fixed me with her onyx-like eyes and told me she had something very important to discuss with me, and a great favor to ask.

  She wanted this journal! Seems Dhurrrkk' told her that I'd kept a written record of everything we'd been discussing, and she asked to see it for two reasons: (1) She wanted to use it to test the new translation program the Mizari are developing, and, (2) The journal will help them make a decision about an extremely vital project the League has been considering for a long time.

  She didn't tell me just what the project is, but it was obvious that Shirazz considered it essential to the future of the Five Founding Worlds and their six affiliate member worlds (Hurrreeah and its colonies are included in the latter category).

  The CLS has been looking nearly as long for a very special person to run this endeavor. Someone who comes from a world that is politically and economically independent of CLS interactions and involvements.

  In Rob, they think they may have found that person. They were impressed with him from the first, Shirazz told me.

  I have to admit that when she first spoke of finding someone to run this project, a sudden, wild hope blossomed in me. When she said it was Rob they were interested in, my heart sank for a moment. Then I felt a thrill of vicarious pride and joy.

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  She wanted to know whether Rob seemed to like what he'd seen of the CLS

  so far. I told her he did.

  "Your journal," she said, then, "will help us to know him better, know whether he is indeed the person we seek. It would be cruel to disappoint him if he is not that person, so I will ask that you say nothing of our discussion to him."

  Of course I agreed, though the idea of Rob staying here on Shassiszss, while I went on to Earth, was like a knife in my heart. I don't know if I could bear to lose him, now that we're finally together . . .

  So now I've got those cassettes burning a hole in my pocket, until I can hand them over to Shirazz. She's taking us on a tour of this station, now that quarantine's over. I left everything in, all the angst and anguish, except for those references to Doctor Blanket as an intelligent being.

  Now you see why losing my virginity got "second billing," as Rob calls it.

  But speaking personally ...

  WOW. I had no idea.

  Rob is a terrific lover--passionate, remarkably attuned to what I'm feeling, what gives me pleasure. I didn't realize that lovemaking could be so much fun. When you watch the couples in a clinch on the holo-vids, it's all so deadly serious--all groans and gasps and writhings. Well, that's true enough, but you also play and that's great! For two people who've been living "on the edge of death" (that's melodramatic, but true), the sheer cathartic release of playing, of laughing and making terrible jokes and hideous puns, of acting adolescently moonstruck and silly-- it's wonderful.

  The CLS Guest Liaison led the two humans and their Simiu friend on a tour that left their heads spinning with new sights, sounds, and smells--a long ramble that didn't cover a third of the massive station.

  Mizari architecture was based on circles and spheres. The polished white walls with black floors gave a sense of cool purity, enlivened by isolated touches of vibrant color--a piece of pottery here, an abstract mural there.

  Growing things flourished. Mizari were enthusiastic gardeners. Plants from Shassiszss were so dark a green they appeared black in some lights, and many had exotically shaped and

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  colored blossoms. Trellises arched overhead, ground-level plots surrounded exotic fountains composed of water and crystal. These water sculptures created a sibilant sussuration throughout the Mizari portions of the station, muffling the sounds of alien voices and means of locomotion.

&
nbsp; Other "spokes" of the six enormous wheels reflected different architectures and environments. For some of the environments, guide and visitors had to don the glowing protective "fields" that protected their bodies from poisonous atmospheres or crushing gravities, while supplying them with breathable air.

  Rob, Dhurrrkk', and Mahree saw the "cliff-dwellings" of the symbiotic race called the Shadgui, from -a star located near Procyon. The "Shad" portion of the alien was a huge, black- haired shambling creature that looked vaguely like one of the enormous ground sloths that have long been extinct on Earth.

  The "Gui" were small, red-skinned toadlike creatures the aliens carried on their shoulders. The "Shad" were eyeless, but "saw" perfectly through their symbionts, while the "Gui," in their turn, needed their massive partners to speak for them. Both creatures shared a powerful telepathic and metabolic bond. Shirazz explained that separation of either life-form from the other for more than ten hours inevitably resulted in the death of both.

  Next came the Ri, the beings that Shirazz had mentioned as being so shy that the sight of an alien could be a fatal shock. Accordingly, the three visitors could only observe their area on a one-way holo-screen. Ri were an aquatic species that resembled huge, shelled lavender octopi. Each individual was the size of a small room. The Ri Councillor, Shirazz explained, would not attend tomorrow's meeting in person, but would observe and participate via holoscreen.

  Then the travelers met the Chhhh-kk-tu. These small, furred creatures came from a star near Sirius, and they resembled wallabies.

  Chhhh-kk-tu stood upright. They came no higher than the middle of Rob's chest, and had small, bright eyes, pointed noses, rounded ears on the top of their heads, and fourdigited fingers. They had pouches in their cheeks and small, marsupial- like pouches on their fronts that Dhurrrkk' quietly explained had nothing to do with carrying young, but were part of their sexual equipment. The aliens' fur was soft and shining, and varied in