by H M Major
Cord was satisfied with the response. The humans wanted it, all right. Neteel and Fyrrell could probably name their own price.
***
He found his way to Julia McKay's door without much difficulty. Clearly he was in the residential section of the complex-two or three humans he met in the corridors reacted with surprise.
When Julia came to the door, Cord almost forgot what he had intended to say. Her hair hung loose in a cloud that almost brushed her shoulders, and her robe was a diaphanous gray webbed with silver. Promising hints of a fully curved and feminine body showed in the swells of material. Surprise flared briefly in her green-gold eyes, but not in the serene aura she maintained.
"Come in." She said it calmly, as though she'd been expecting him. But he was sure she was glad to see him.
He stepped inside and curiously looked around. The room was small, no larger than the common area in his parents' unit, but it was bright and airy. The walls and ceiling were a pale, pale yellow, while the bed, set level with the floor, was covered in purple. It was simple, yet exotic and strangely enticing. Somehow it was the perfect setting for the human woman, who outshone her surroundings.
The one chair was not meant for someone with a tail, so Cord sank to the floor to be comfortable. Julia did the same, though she knelt rather than crouched. The gray fabric swirled about her in a way that made Cord pleasurably aware of the organ in his pouch.
"I came to make an appointment for my mother and father to demonstrate their newest invention," he told her. "Since I was here, I thought… I wanted to see you again."
He knew he was being as awkward as a boy making his first assignation. Worse, he could not recall being so inept when he'd asked Bird to be his love-friend. But Bird and he had grown up with the same conventions and moral code.
"I'm happy you did. Can you stay for dinner? The kitchens can produce a few Mehiran dishes as well as those of a number of our own worlds."
"You are kind, but my parents expect me back soon. I must not linger."
"Then I won't detain you." But neither of them moved.
"I think Stev Greffard will ask you to aid him in arranging the demonstration," Cord said.
"Good!" Julia smiled. "It will give me something useful to do. But why is he asking me?"
"The device my mother invented is very special," Cord explained. "Perhaps the first of its kind. I trust you to help gather the appropriate humans-and not to reveal the nature of the device."
Julia plucked at the folds of her garment, pulling the material above her knees and revealing creamy flesh. Cord stared at the smooth pale skin. He had never touched a human, really, and longed to caress Julia's skin, to run his hands slowly along her milky inner thighs, to discover the sweet delights beyond.
"What is this special device?" Julia asked, seemingly oblivious to Cord's stare.
Cord tore himself away from the erotic pleasures he was imagining. "It is a machine that reads minds." If Julia could read his mind now, would the human woman be shocked or would she be willing to share his lustful curiosity? Suddenly he was desperate to explore the physical differences between them.
"Thank you for telling me. It is an honor to receive your trust." She learned forward and squeezed his forearm-a human gesture of reassurance?-and said, "I regard you as a good friend."
Cord captured her hand in his own. "One trusts one's good friends. I wish you felt the same way about me."
"I do, Cord." She placed her free hand over his; a pulsing current passed through him at this, burning his already heated body.
"Among Mehirans," he said slowly, "if two people are friends-as we are-and find each other attractive… You are very beautiful in my eyes, but perhaps I am not to your taste."
Julia pulled her hands free. "If I understand you, Cord, you are inviting me to have sex with you."
"Yes. I don't wish to offend you, but I hope since we are friends you won't be offended." Oh, Cord, he addressed himself, you sound like a fool.
"I am flattered." She lowered the lids over her eyes. "But you know my religion is very important to me, and I have already explained this to you."
The faint odor of her body came to Cord like an intoxication, stealing over his senses. Cord placed his hands on her thighs. Desire rose in him like a tide of lava. It was almost like the excitement of the chase.
"Don't," Julia cried. She tried to push him away, but he was too strong. "The truth is that I'm afraid. I've given myself to God, but I'm afraid I'll give myself to you any way you want, as often as you want!"
The pupils of her eyes were dilated, and Cord could feel her arousal, though it was like none he had ever felt in a woman. And her words confused him: who was this "God"?
If she had given herself to a human male, then why would she be afraid of sex with Cord?
"I'll go," he said finally, his own emotions painfully churning. "But I hope your ancestors will give you a satisfactory enlightenment in this matter."
Julia rose gracefully.
"I hope so, too," she said, her voice husky. Her nipples were standing up hard against the flimsy material of her gown. With an obvious effort to regain control, she added, "I will study the holy books carefully."
"Will you give me your answer at the demonstration?"
Passion flared in her eyes once more.
"If I can."
Cord, standing in the hallway outside her closed door, was baffled at the feelings she aroused in him. He found himself almost able to understand why some deviates forced themselves upon an unwilling partner. His overwhelming desire for Julia had nearly made him lose control, and now his hunger was turning to shame and disgust.
But he still wanted the alien woman.
CHAPTER 8
Bird, flying home from a party, savored the cool night air. It seemed to caress her body, just like… she laughed to herself, remembering. A pleasant evening, she thought, with several interesting young men. She'd drunk too much aphrodisiac, though: her clitoris began to feel hot and large as she enumerated the men who'd pleasured her-or wanted to. Her thighs tingled at imaginary touches and her breasts ached. She smiled and sighed. It was too bad Cord refused to accompany her to passion parties; he would be such an asset. And she would have liked others to learn how exciting and virile her love-friend was, to sample the strength of his muscular body.
The sight of the Council building, fully illuminated as it was when a session was in progress, distracted her. Bird slowed her skim and stared at the massive structure. Resumption of a Council meeting in the evening was a sign of serious trouble.
I should go in. Father will be there and he may need me. Strange he had not mentioned an evening continuation when she'd left the house late in the afternoon. Maybe something had arisen suddenly.
No, there was no point in her going in. It was very late, and they would certainly adjourn soon. Father would tell her to go home anyway. Also, the scent of passion was heavy around her, and it was in poor taste to distract those who were working. Certainly she was too tired for any more lovemaking, and she wanted to look her best for tomorrow. Her father had been invited to attend an affair at the spaceport the following afternoon. Bird was to go with him, and she wanted to be fresh, because it was in honor of some machine Cord's mother had built.
Having made her decision, Bird passed the government complex and headed toward the suburbs. She put the skim away and went up to bed immediately, leaving the house lights on for her father's return. Usually after so much sexual activity she rested well. Tonight, however, her dreams were chaotic and troubling.
Waking to the morning sun, Bird felt neither rested nor easy in mind. It was unusual for her to be upset by nightmares. After washing and dressing slowly, she went downstairs, to find that the lights she'd left on last night still glowed. Could the Council have remained in session all night? He must have come home, she decided, and she simply had not heard him. Perhaps he was tired and worried.
She crept up to her father's suite of rooms as
softly as she could. The door to his office was not quite closed. It looked familiar and comforting in the sun that shone in the great round window. Austere, everything in its place-except for a scroll, half-written, on the Speaker's low desk. Bird smiled and crossed the room to roll it up and slip it into a holder until he should care to continue it. She never completed the gesture-her own name loomed large and foreboding…
"Bird, I wish I could do this differently, to spare you the anguish you are about to experience, as well as the inconvenience and embarrassment. However, no practical alternative exists. Thank all the ancestors, on both our behalves, that you were gone tonight.
"Bird, in my life I have made several major mistakes, but until this last one, I have been the only one to suffer thereby. The first one was cutting myself off from emotional contact with others after your mother died. No one could replace her, and I let no one try. That was foolish, but this is worse: I began to give myself airs of nobility for the deprivation. I let myself believe that it was somehow ignoble to indulge in palliative affairs, when sexual and emotional contact would have kept me from brooding, from turning inward.
"You know, naturally, that I have not been in the habit of letting others see my feelings. What no one knows is that for years I have not been receptive to others' feelings either. It may have been a brain dysfunction; I don't know. But I welcomed it. The joys, sorrows, and needs of the rest of the world were too painful after Tareel joined her ancestors.
"This was my last mistake: having ceased to listen to the feelings of everyone else, I let the aliens deceive me. I believed what they told me without the precaution of sensing their emotions. Having done so, I promoted trade with them against the Council's judgment, which was based on empathic sense as well as on reason. I know now this was foolish-and arrogant-to the point of insanity. I must have been mad to ignore common sense to such a degree.
"Tonight I was called before the Council. They charged me with willfully ignoring a Council directive, which was true but would not ordinarily be a matter of importance. They accused me of acting as an agent for the humans in return for gifts. It is possible that the humans intended those beautiful bracelets as bribes. I don't know. If I had listened to their souls as well as to their speech…
"Finally, my 'deviancy' was denounced, my lack of emotional sharing, as if that were a crime. Someone actually suggested that I must be a pervert because I have no love-friends.
"The Council demanded my resignation, and I have complied. It may look like an admission of guilt, but you know as well as I do that if I refused, they would find some other way of removing me.
"I am afraid I know why your friend Cord has not visited you lately. His delicacy of feeling does him some credit; his family was engaged to gather the evidence which was brought against me.
"Bird, if I resigned to live in retirement, I would be disgraced and you would be disgraced because of your connection with me. Therefore I am going to kill myself. It may save you from ostracization. Others will pity you, and maybe they will give you a chance. Lovely one, farewell."
There was no signature; none was necessary. Bird, with a sick sensation in the pit of her stomach, ran to the door of her father's bedroom, still clutching the scroll in one hand.
The Speaker was lying on the bed platform. One glance at the drawn, colorless face was enough. Beside him was an open box. Bird recognized it as a medication container, in which her father had kept lozenges to help him sleep. It was empty.
She stood there for a space. Then, shivering, she turned away, to make the necessary arrangements.
She spent most of the morning reporting her father's death to the Council clerk in charge of death registry, and in arranging for his cremation. Finally, having written short messages to their relatives, Bird found herself alone in the house. She felt stunned and abandoned at first-then she began to be angry. Not at the Council so much as at their tools and at those who had made the Speaker their tool.
And she remembered the invitation and her pass to the spaceport.
CHAPTER 9
Contrary to Cord's apprehensions, nothing occurred to complicate their preparations. His father rented a vehicle without difficulty; the telepathy machine continued to work; no one attempted to hijack it. They left for the spaceport much earlier than necessary; none of them wished to be late because of some mishap enroute. Cord was amused to see that his mother had knotted an ancestor bag for the device, by way of disguise. To conceal the main object of their visit further, she had brought along several other tools.
"Here, you carry it," she said to Cord, as they got into the ground car. He took it and suspended the pouch from his belt. It would arouse no curiosity; many people carried ancestral mementoes with them. Running a finger over the pattern of knots, Cord deciphered the meaning: Fyrrell-Neteel-Cord: 3228 Year of Council: 205 year of family-Gifts and Good Fortune from the Sky. His mother's idea of humor, he thought.
The road to the spaceport had become familiar, so Fyrrell pushed the vehicle along at near its top speed, although they had plenty of time.
Stev Greffard seemed to be waiting for them, in spite of their early arrival.
"The room is ready," he told them. "There's been considerable interest, so I expect a crowd. This is the first major gathering we've held, and Julia McKay's announcement piqued their curiosity. She studied persuasion and logic at her seminary. And, of course, there's been a great deal of speculation about the nature of your invention." He smiled slyly at Neteel.
She smiled in reply. The fulfillment of years of work was in sight.
The human offered them beverages and morsels of food, all exotic but quite tasty. Cord decided that the pickled vegetables were the aliens' most outstanding accomplishment.
Julia joined them in Greffard's office. She greeted them, maintaining a slight formality with Cord which he found charming.
"Is everything you need here?" she asked, glancing at the pile of gadgets Neteel and Fyrrell had placed on Greffard's desk. The ancestor bag, however, remained on Cord's belt. "May I arrange for it to be taken into the conference room?"
"Yes," Neteel answered. "Yes to both questions. Thank you."
They had not informed even Greffard that the real demonstration piece was still with them. Let their prospective customers wonder.
"Everything is ready," Greffard reported soon afterward. "It's almost time. If you've finished your refreshments, I'll escort you to the room we've scheduled for you."
"We are prepared," Fyrrell said. An electric current of excitement passed between the three. They followed Stev Greffard down the corridor, with Julia close behind.
The room assigned was surprisingly large and already full. Most of the crowd were human, but many Mehirans were present as well; it looked as though every Mehiran who had a pass to the spaceport had attended. Cord thought he had never seen such a collection of notables in one place. The most honored members of the Council, both Upper and Lower, were well to the front-not in the first rows of seats, which would have been vulgarly pushy, but in the forward middle section, as their dignity demanded. He hoped the Speaker for the Third District was there to witness their triumph.
A long table at the front of the room held the gadgets Neteel had brought along. It was flanked by a pair of tough-looking guards carrying guns. A broad expanse of polished floor separated the table from the spectators' chairs. No one could say that Greffard wasn't giving Neteel full honors.
A knot of people around the door-those who lacked the prestige to gain seats-stirred as someone pushed through behind them.
"I didn't expect so many," Neteel remarked, obviously pleased.
"Shall we go down to the table now?" Fyrrell asked Greffard. "Or would you rather we stayed here? We seem to be in the way."
"As my father was in the Council's way?" a voice inquired, sharp-edged.
Bird had come through the crowd around them. Her face was set and colorless; worse, uncontrolled and scorching anger flowed from her.
"Dead?" Cord repeated blankly. "What happened? When?"
"They killed him." She was looking at his parents, anger and tears fighting in her eyes. "The Council wanted him eliminated, so they hired Fyrrell and Neteel to find a way. Once the Council had disgraced him, he thought it would be better to die-for my sake. Maybe my father made mistakes, but he never deliberately did anyone harm. But you're the Council's tools. You've made it dangerous to have a difference of opinion with them." Her voice had risen shrilly; now it fell to a whisper. "You… you should have told me, Cord. You owed me that much."
Cord dropped his defenses to let Bird feel his concern and surprise. In the background he sensed his parents' embarrassment and alarm. Others' reactions came through also: concern, irritation, confusion, and faintly, as though from a great distance, an immense need, a gnawing hunger…
Before Cord had time to wonder about it, Hamilton K appeared with an escort of security guards. They surrounded Bird as if cornering a vicious animal.
"She should never have been permitted inside," a Mehiran voice observed. "Under the circumstances…"
K said, "We were not aware of the 'circumstances,' whatever they are. She has a pass. Needless to say, it will now be suspended. Get her out of here."
"No," Cord snapped.
Hamilton K looked at him. Cord was glad he did not work for this alien, cold man.
"Is she a friend of yours?" he asked.
"Yes," Fyrrell replied. "We will deal with the matter." To Bird, he added, "I'm sorry. I did not know what they intended to do with my report. We've often worked for the Council, even gathering material about its members. Nothing ever came of it, before. Nothing we've been aware of, at least. And I would have sworn in the names of my ancestors that there was nothing in your father's life to give the Council so much power over him."