Desire Disguised

by Lynn Rae

  “He’s enjoying it very much. He even likes to do his home assignments.” Cara wanted to make a little joke. She understood homework was something students complained about, but Mat was so thrilled with his experience he’d taken on everything with unrestrained enthusiasm. He was aware their time of living a nearly normal life was fleeting, and he seemed determined to do everything with verve.

  As she’d hoped, the other women laughed and managed their laundry for a few minutes. Once they had everything in their hoppers, they each headed for the door, and Cara wondered if they were leaving and she could get back to her reading. It was not to be; they returned with their own stools and set up on either side of Cara to face the blinking and warm machines.

  “So, Moca, have you talked with Lynde today?” Lia leaned toward Cara as she smiled at the magistrate. “Lynde is Moca’s partner. She’s an extractor working a distant claim. I’m quizzing all my friends on their personal lives since that’s so hard to do by message. You lose all nuances in a recording.”

  Magistrate Blakelock shook her head and shifted on her stool as Typho’s dark-haired head bobbled. “Not yet. She’s been having trouble with her com links, so I’m not worried.”

  “I’m sure she misses you and Typho terribly. When will she be back in the settlement?”

  “Not for another month, she’s nowhere near her quota.” The magistrate adjusted her hold on the baby, and Cara had to force herself not to reach out for him. She missed holding Mat so much and longed to touch a warm little baby again.

  “It’s too bad it will be that long before you can have a big homecoming celebration. I’d have been happy to watch Typho for a couple of hours so the two of you can have some privacy. Since it’s going to be so long for her to come here, isn’t it within your mandate to conduct a tour of some outlying claims? Spend a few evenings roughing it in the company of a certain tough prospector?” Lia’s suggestion made the other woman laugh out loud.

  “Lynde isn’t rough and tough, she’s very sweet. I couldn’t bring Typho along anyway. Besides, I don’t think the chief would be too keen on me putting myself in danger like that.”

  Cara’s ears tingled at the mention of Ben. Perhaps some other parts tingled as well. She decided to stay quiet and let the two more experienced females have a conversation. If she eavesdropped, she might learn something useful about what normal women talked about. Not that she was going to get a chance to use any of it in her own barren life.

  “Aw, Zash needs a challenge now and then. He’s probably getting soft just keeping the peace by throwing drunks in jail and putting out the occasional small fire.” Lia turned from her friend to peer at Cara. “What do you think, Cara?”

  “About what?”

  “How soft Zash is getting?” Lia’s eyes gleamed, and her mouth quirked as if she’d said something clever. Cara wasn’t sure what the other woman was implying, but the last thing she wanted to do was to appear unsophisticated or immature.

  “He doesn’t seem soft,” she ventured a reply. He was very focused and alert, and every part of his body she’d accidentally encountered had been healthy and firm.

  Both Lia and the magistrate giggled. Cara wondered what she’d said that was so humorous. Lia reined in her laughter and tapped on Cara’s leg.

  “We aren’t laughing at you, Cara. We’re amused by the idea of Zash’s relative hardness.”

  Cara caught on to what had been inferred and knew she blushed horribly. Her temperature must have gone up at least twenty degrees when she contemplated that image. Which was a mere mental picture since she’d never seen any sort of real-life example. Ben would almost certainly be different than the rather clinical illustrations she’d examined. Or perhaps all men were fairly uniform in that dimension, not that she’d have the opportunity to do much first-hand comparison.

  “What do you think he’d be like, Lia? You’ve surely wondered.” The magistrate tightened her lips to repress a smile as she stared at her friend. Her baby wriggled his hands and tensed his face. Cara wondered if he was preparing to eliminate.

  “I have wondered but never with enough momentum to get close to an actual encounter. He’d always beat me at baccio or outrun me in a sprint, and I’d be too irritated to bother making a move.”

  So Ben and Lia hadn’t ever—Cara couldn’t even say the words to herself, but her worrisome feelings about the situation between the two friends evaporated.

  “What about you, Moca? Did you ever contemplate getting cozy with him?” Lia was teasing, and she again tapped Cara’s leg in an inclusive way. It was a strange feeling to be part of such a conversation with two women.

  “My inclinations don’t lead me in that direction, so no; I’ve never had a fantasy. But now that you’ve put the idea in my head, I am coming up with a fairly impressive collection of parts assembled in an admirable way.” Magistrate Blakelock raised her eyebrows and nodded her head. “From what I’ve seen, he’s cared for himself very nicely, and his demeanor, while too reclusive for my taste, is pleasing. In a purely non-sexual way.”

  Lia cackled and hit a new button on her machine. “Listen to you, ‘pleasing’ and ‘impressive parts’ indeed. Faint praise. Has he been involved with anyone in the last year? He’d never tell me if he was, because he knows I’d interrogate him for every last detail.”

  Cara swayed on her stool, lightheaded at the thought Ben might currently be intimate with someone. How would he be with someone he was attracted to? Affectionate and tender, or bold and assertive? Her skin prickled, and she wanted to rub the feeling away.

  Magistrate Blakelock pursed her lips and tilted her head. “I can’t say he’s seemed to be in pursuit of anyone in the last months. He’s such a cipher, it’s hard to be sure, but I’m aware several attractive women keep their eyes on him.”

  “You would notice where the attractive women look, Moca,” Lia chided her friend. “What do you think of Zash’s allure, Cara? You’ve spent some time with the man. Are the women of Gamaliel missing out?”

  Swallowing hard, Cara wished she’d never decided to launder that day. So what if she and Mat were down to their last pairs of clean undergarments? She glanced at the time and realized she wouldn’t be able to say she needed to leave with any believability. Which left her to make some sort of statement that wouldn’t reveal her utter ignorance of the subject of men and sex and coupling up.

  “He’s, ah, very fit. And nice. He’s been kind.” Stars, she thought he was simply riveting, and she’d obsessively reviewed all her encounters with him several times over as she’d tried to fall asleep at night. It was something she’d never admit and didn’t understand. Some comforting embraces, a bad kiss on her part, and she was completely dazzled. Her face burned, and she stared at the floor in confused mortification.

  “I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable, Cara.” Lia’s normally ebullient tone had quieted, and when Cara met her gaze, she saw only kindness. “Moca and I are comrades, and we tend to be unrestrained with each other, at least when other congressional staffers aren’t around.”

  “That’s right. You mustn’t think we are terrible gossips. It’s been a long time since we’ve had a chance to chat, and our enthusiasm got the best of us. We certainly regard Chief Zashi with the utmost admiration.” The magistrate’s confident and respectful tone put Cara at ease. “It’s natural to speculate on these matters, but we shouldn’t have made such comments with you. He’s not one to flaunt his activities, and we shouldn’t be indiscreet.”

  Cara shrugged. Somehow she was both interested in the other women’s opinions of Ben’s appeal but wanted to unhear everything they’d already said. Lia leaned back and gusted a sigh.

  “Perhaps that’s why we like to talk about it. It’s difficult to get involved with someone on these small settlements, because one always has to worry about the potential for conflict of interest.” The magistrate nodded once with a resigned look on her face. Perhaps she thought about the woman she was partnered with. It had to be a r
elationship filled with careful compromise, especially with the added responsibility of a baby. As if Typho heard her thoughts, he stirred and kicked his legs against his mother. The magistrate laughed and held him out to bounce on her knee.

  “That’s why assistant magistrates were invented,” Lia said. “Let Cordon start earning some of his marks by taking on the tasks you shouldn’t.”

  Cara gave them a weak smile, relieved they were on to another topic. Moca Blakelock caught her gaze and extended Typho her way. “Would you care to hold him? I need to check the machine.”

  Without a word, Cara reached for the baby and tucked him into the crook of her arm. The little boy regarded her with blinking confusion, his warm weight a welcome reminder of how Mat had been so long ago.

  “Being circumspect didn’t seem to hinder you when you met Colan.” The magistrate turned to smile at her now spluttering friend. “You should have seen them, Cara. They were like an imploding reactor whenever they were together. Anyone watching them could see the inevitable chain reaction to explosion.”

  Lia huffed. “At least it had a happy outcome. For a while there I was worried there might be murder.”

  “How long did it take you to come around? Twenty or thirty hours?”

  “Stop!” Lia laughed and left her seat to check on her machine. Cara smiled a little when she noticed the other woman’s cheeks were flushed pink. She gave Typho one of her fingers to grip and decided to try a little of this feminine conversation while she had the chance. Cara gathered her courage to ask something she’d been wondering.

  “How did you know that you, that he was…” All daring left her, and she gaped breathlessly, sure she’d be rebuffed or treated to a condescending look. It was horrible to have to navigate these social waters from such a position of ignorance.

  “Well, at first, I was sure I hated him.” Lia shot the magistrate a sharp glance before she continued. “He was so argumentative and irritable. But as soon as he touched my feet, I knew something was going on.”

  “He touched your feet?” Moca Blakelock’s voice was higher pitched than Cara would have thought possible for someone with such a modulated and trained tone. Little Typho started at his mother’s tone of voice, and Cara gave him some gentle rocks to settle him.

  “Yes, he was looking for a foot weevil infestation. Didn’t I tell you? In any case, after he got his hands on me I started to get nervous and feel a little ill whenever he was nearby. Actually, I felt that way whenever I even thought about him.”

  Cara absorbed that news with a shaky breath. So, it really did happen the way her more lurid novels described it.

  “They were simply adorable together. Everyone could see it even if they couldn’t. He watched her all the time, and I swear, Lia, you blushed so much whenever he was around I worried you might rupture the capillaries in your face.” Moca stretched her legs out and sighed. “It was a relief to everyone when the two of them finally gave in. And it was no surprise to anyone when he came rushing up just as your shuttle was set to take off. So dramatic and romantic.”

  “It was a surprise to me. I was sure I’d never see him again.” Lia stepped away from the gently rocking laundry machine and sniffed loudly. Her friend rose from her seat and gave her a hug.

  “Sorry. I’m just feeling homesick.”

  “Of course you are. You miss your baby and your partner.” Moca Blakelock shushed her friend with an understanding smile.

  Cara watched the two women comfort and reassure each other. She’d had no idea Lia had a baby, which was no wonder considering she’d been operating under the mistaken assumption she and Ben were intimate. Something loosened in her chest. Maybe it was the presence of little Typho in her arms, or the honest emotion of the women around her, but Cara wanted to step away from her isolation for a few minutes more.

  “Do you have a digima of your baby?” Cara asked Lia, and the other woman beamed and came rushing back to her seat.

  “Without a doubt. Would you like to see some of the birth or would you prefer to start with some less messy ones?”

  Chapter 8

  Prowling around behind the school, Ben tried to convince himself he was there merely to oversee crowd control in the plaza, but considering only about thirty-five people were in attendance, it wasn’t much of a crowd to control.

  Parents ringed the edges of the plaza, standing obediently behind the barriers he’d put up earlier, ready to observe Citizen Topi’s class and its imminent jumbo nano war. He wasn’t sure why he was still there. Topi had been very happy to see him and probably assumed he was trying to make up for his abrupt refusal of her dinner invitation. To avoid another awkward interaction with her it would make sense to disappear until the demonstration was over and come back later to retrieve the barricades. Or send someone else over to do it. Like Soloman. Perhaps the lieutenant and the teacher would find something to talk about.

  As he mulled over his options, he noticed Topi’s students filing out from the school building, each holding a small white box. The rest of the children followed behind and lined up in rows behind the barrier, each class jostling and whispering until teachers shushed them. Some parents waved at their children, but Topi’s students ignored them as they split into two groups and faced each other with grim expressions. Mat Belasco was standing next to Ermil Healy, and each boy had pulled on a dark stocking cap as if they were toughened street thugs. This might be fun to watch.

  Ben leaned his sore shoulder against the wall of the school and waited for the action to begin. He was too far away to hear Topi’s instructions, but Mat had filled him in earlier when he’d called to invite Ben over for dinner that night. Ben had been surprised Cara would want to see him, but he’d accepted readily. Hopefully it was a sign she’d forgiven him for the kiss. Mat had given him a pleased grin at his agreement and elicited a promise from him that he’d be at the nano war as well.

  Each student opened his or her box and pulled out some microspecs which they hung in front of their eyes with quite a few fumbles and drops. Parents in the loop pulled out their own observational equipment, and everyone was soon quiet as they watched the invisible robots perform.

  “Chief, I’m so glad I ran into you.”

  I’m not. Ben glanced at Myltin Tarl as he sidled up to him. He wanted to ignore Tarl, but since he didn’t have any microspecs to hide behind, he was left to acknowledge the other man with a nod.

  “Remember when I told you I was going to investigate the story of those people in the crash? How there is so little information on them that it’s suspicious? I have some theories I’d like to run by you.” Myltin didn’t pause for breath or look over at the people gathered in the plaza for the show.

  “Perhaps they were kidnapped by the old man for use in some sort of illicit sex work. Or perhaps the two siblings are actually clones and the old man created them and wanted to keep them from the authorities. You notice how similar their features are?”

  “They are brother and sister.” Myltin didn’t pick up on his sarcasm, of course.

  Myltin shrugged at this reasonable rebuttal. “Of course the names they are using are aliases. That’s why there’s not much detail in their public files. Perhaps they’re skilled thieves. You have to be thinking of Tellus and the La Torres. I certainly am. Who says the king and his family were actually incinerated on the imperial flagship when the rebels overthrew the government? There have been rumors some might have survived.”

  Ben thought each idea was more ridiculous than the last and that was saying a lot for Myltin’s cracked conspiracies. The Belascos hardly had the demeanor of criminals, and they spoke of their companion Soren with respect and some affection but certainly no fear. As for the little man’s other outlandish idea, Ben and Cara were the least royal-acting people he’d ever encountered, not that he’d met any prince or countess or even a minor congressional representative. As carefully concealed as he’d thought he’d kept his skepticism, it seemed Myltin Tarl sensed his disinterest, and he huffe
d out an impatient breath.

  “I’d hoped you’d want to follow up on this, considering the safety and security of this settlement is your job, Chief Zashi.” Tarl blinked his eyes rapidly and stuck his skinny arms akimbo.

  “I certainly will discover everything I need to know about the Belascos while they’re here,” Ben promised in as serious a tone as he could manage. He wanted to know more about them but had a feeling at this point it was more personal than professional interest. That meant he needed to be cautious with every move he made.

  Not getting any appreciation, Myltin stalked off toward the crowd to sniff around and discover a scandal or two among the school age set. Ben watched him go with relief but tensed when his gaze fell on Cara Belasco. She was on the far side of the plaza, standing separate from the other parents and family members, her arms crossed and her shoulders hunched as if she was cold even though the weather was perfectly comfortable. She watched her brother with a smile on her lips, and he was glad to see she seemed to be in a more settled mood than she had been the last time he’d encountered her. Just thinking about how she’d scurried away from him made tension settle in his shoulders as if he’d been carrying a heavy load for days. He had to apologize, explain it to her somehow, even though he didn’t understand why he’d kissed her.

  Taking a roundabout route, he worked his way around the square, stopping to listen as people noticed him and wanted to tell him something, but always keeping an eye on her. She wore dark blue today, and her reddish brown hair hung in a braid over her shoulder like it had that night he’d seen her in that heavy robe. She glanced away from the final action on the plaza and met his gaze as if she’d known he was there the whole time.

  Her expression was neutral, but she took a nervous nibble of her lower lip. Remembering his all too brief contact with those lips made heat flood his veins. Against his better judgment, Ben moved to her side, and she glanced over at him, and then returned her stare to the children now being released by class to rush to their families and go home for the day.