Hinekiri

by Shelley Munro

  Hinekiri waggled her arms and aimed her body at the door, fighting to control the prickling at the back of her eyes. Damn. How could she have misread the signs so badly?

  “Where are you going, woman? You can’t leave me up here.”

  “Watch me.” Hinekiri reached for the button to slide the door across.

  “What if Janaya manages to intercept you or get a call through? We don’t have time to dilly-dally.”

  Hinekiri stopped short and scowled up at Richard. He flapped his arms vigorously and went up instead of down. She winced at the thud his head made when he crashed into the ceiling. “You have a point.” She hated to admit it.

  “Hinekiri, come up here and help me down. I have enough aches and pains for today.” Using his hands, he pushed off from the ceiling and headed toward the floor, but he didn’t gain enough propulsion. He hovered halfway between the floor and the ceiling. “Get me down, dammit!”

  Hinekiri darted up and grabbed him. She hit the gravity button before he had a chance to take off again.

  “Thank you.” He wrapped his dignity around him as best a man could, given his lack of clothes. “Where are my clothes?”

  “Um, I had to cut them off, then I realized we’d left your bag in the vehicle. I’m afraid you’ll have to wear a robe until we can find some for you. I saved your boots so at least you’ll have those to wear. I have your wallet and passport thing.” Sudden humor bubbled up inside. She couldn’t wait to see his face when he saw the male version of the Dalcon robe.

  “Just my boots? Fine. I’ll wear a robe. I want to reassure myself the spaceship isn’t flashing its presence to every kook and local resident of Sloan. Luke has enough problems without us adding to them.”

  His words brought shame. Here she’d been busy thinking about herself instead of the bigger picture. She squared her shoulders and attempted to ignore the tiny voice inside that insisted it was about time she put herself first instead of everyone else.

  “You’re right.” She opened a storage locker near the door and rifled through until she found a male robe. “Come on. Put this on. We’ll go to the bridge and then I’ll give you a tour.”

  Richard stared at the charcoal-gray robe. It was a new design made for her by a friend, constructed with voice recognition and extra-special features for when she was with a lover. The robe could become transparent or had the ability for peek-a-boo programming. Her favorite since strategic portions of the garment turned clear to showcase the goods.

  “How do I put this on?”

  “Drop it over your head, hold the recognition tab sewn into the seam, say my name and the robe will conform to your body shape. Next time when you want to dress or undress, the garment will recognize your voice. All you say is undress and it will happen.”

  “Okay.” Richard sounded skeptical but he followed her instructions, placing the gray fabric over his head. The fabric slithered over his body, hiding all the good stuff from sight.

  Pity. Hinekiri studied the fit. Not bad. Just as well they weren’t on Dalcon. The other females would likely issue challenges. Richard Morgan was every female’s dream. She nodded. “Looking good, sailor.” She closed one eye in a saucy wink.

  “But…but…I can’t go out in public looking like this.” Horror laced his voice as he gestured at his body. The gray fabric conformed to his shape, highlighting every muscle and bulge, a V of tanned flesh visible at his neck. The sleeves were long but also formfitting, the special fabric allowing for ease of movement.

  “Why not?” Hinekiri strove for a neutral voice but humor leaked into her words. Her mouth twitched and she caught her bottom lip between her teeth in an effort to halt the belly laugh straining for release. “It’s the height of Dalconian fashion. The friend who designed it for me is a top designer. Anyone who is anybody on Dalcon wears designs by Gregorious.” She’d guessed he’d react this way. It was a test of sorts. Any male she teamed with needed a sense of humor and self-control. She refused to live with a male who struck out in anger. Been there. Done that.

  “The bit over my groin is bright red. Okay if I was a baboon, but I’m not.”

  “That’s a codpiece,” Hinekiri explained. He’d passed the test. “Very trendy and now. I’ll show you my collection of depictions later. I have some of my friends. All the males wear what you’re wearing. It has a nifty hinge opening for ready access.”

  “You don’t say.” Richard sighed. “I guess I have to wear something.”

  “Okay.” Hinekiri offered her arm. “Let’s do that tour.”

  Richard grabbed her forearm. “Hinekiri, wait. Before the tour—”

  “Yes?” Her brows arched.

  “Just so you know—we’re not finished with the sex. I’d like to try out a few more things on your luscious body.” He gave his own version of a wink then strolled from the room. Her knees wobbled, heat piercing her core and causing juices to flow. A sudden grin creased her face as she appreciated the view. Richard Morgan had one sexy arse, not that she intended to inform him of the special transparent viewing panel at the rear of his robe or the secret word she’d whispered to activate it.

  Chapter Six

  Richard checked the view from a porthole as he walked down a narrow passage. Even though his muscles ached from overexertion, it felt great to be alive. His legs weren’t exactly functioning properly either. He grasped the wall to stop from falling. He shook his head, hoping to clear the muzzy sensation.

  A wry thought hit him over the head. Old dogs should know to take things easy. But hell, he might not have sex again for a long time. Might as well make the most of it while Hinekiri was on vacation. The sense of jubilation dissipated because of the hard truth. Hinekiri was a scientist, and judging from the little he’d heard of her work, one contracted to explore and chart the galaxy next to Earth. Not far to travel with her spaceship, but impossibly far away for him. Not exactly a commuter-friendly journey. It wasn’t as if he could catch a bus or drive his SUV.

  Richard sucked in a deep breath and counseled himself to enjoy what was on offer. Hell, his very first affair. Who’d have thought? “Are you going to show me around or not?”

  “One conducted tour coming up.” Hinekiri gripped his arm before she tapped the door. “Careful, the change in gravity between the rooms might make you feel woozy for a few seconds. Take a deep breath and move with caution.”

  She opened the sliding door to a room that looked like the bridge. A panel of controls filled a portion of one curved wall. Vision outside was by way of a large oval window—sort of an egg on its side. Two swivel seats made of a leathery-looking material were bolted to the floor near the controls. Red and green lights flashed on the panel and a faint hum throbbed through the air. Richard presumed it was the engine or propulsion unit or whatever drove the spaceship. Fluffy clouds passed in front of the window and the sky had turned a deep steel blue-gray as the sun lowered on the horizon.

  Hinekiri entered and Richard followed.

  “’Bout time.” Killer bounded up to them and wagging her tail vigorously. “I hungry. Do ya have any food?”

  Richard gaped at the purple dog. It had talked. He rubbed his ears and swallowed. They popped. He stared at the dog and waited.

  “Food. Do ya have any?”

  “Bloody hell.” His ears were working correctly. “What do ya know? A talking dog.”

  “Hmmm, it’s obviously something to do with sex,” Hinekiri chirped.

  “What’s sex got to do with it?” Confusion didn’t quite cover the spectrum of his feelings. He eyed the purple dog with trepidation.

  “It’s got to be hormones. Maybe they’re exchanged with bodily fluids.” The smooth skin of her forehead wrinkled as she shifted into scientist mode. “But that didn’t happen with Luke and Janaya. Luke could understand the dog straight off.”

  “Luke talks to this dog?”

  “Yeah, but he’s mean with food.” Killer issued a big doggy sigh, her pink tongue lolling from her mouth. “Gonna fade away.
Need food. Now.”

  “I liked you better before I knew you talked,” Richard told the dog. “You didn’t seem so demanding.”

  Killer sidled up to Richard and gave him a sly nip on the calf.

  “Ow!” He backed up and stood beside Hinekiri for protection. That dog was armed and dangerous.

  Hinekiri inspected the instruments. “Everything is okay. The cloaking device is working. Understanding the dog. It must be a combination of the travel inoculations and the sex. Or the bonding ties. Hmmm. Interesting. I’ll have to give it some more thought. This way. We’ll head up to the relaxation room. You get a great view from up there.” Hinekiri took his arm and steered him over to the wall to their right. “Stand on the white square and make sure your body is completely inside.”

  Richard followed Hinekiri’s instructions and noticed Killer did as well without a single word of complaint. Weird since the dog hadn’t shut up since they’d entered the bridge area. It was as if the creature was making up for lost time. For a small purple creature, Killer had attitude to spare. It was gonna take him a while to get used to the concept of talking to a dog.

  Hinekiri winked. “Ready?”

  For what? Seconds later, Richard knew. They whooshed upward as if they were in a lift.

  “Okay?”

  Richard wiped his moist brow and tried his best to look as if trying out alien-type stuff was something he did every day. He failed and gave a sheepish smile when Hinekiri smirked her toothy grin. “Apart from the fact my stomach is still at the starting gate.”

  “At least you’re not a big screamer.”

  Richard’s eyes widened at the sly note in her voice. What the hell did that mean? Some of the best sex in his life had happened in that gravity-controlled room. He’d loosened every inhibition he’d ever held and gone with what felt good. Had he reacted a little too strongly?

  Hinekiri chuckled. “You should see the expression on your face.”

  “You both make noise.” Killer settled the argument with dispatch. “Loud noise. Hurt my ears. Not good for dog to hear. Bad influence. Where food? I still purple.” Killer turned her glare on Hinekiri. “You promise.”

  Hinekiri surveyed Killer’s purple coat and scratched her chin. “We’ll try a bath first.”

  “No bath,” Killer said firmly.

  “Yep, it’s into the vac-shower you go.”

  “No.” Sharp teeth flashed white during a menacing growl.

  Hinekiri scooped the little dog up and marched over to the lift square, disappearing downward with the wriggling creature protesting the whole time.

  “Not like. Bite you hard!”

  Richard tuned out the ensuing argument and counteroffers that floated up to him. He made his way past a library or entertainment system, over to another porthole and stared out. With dusk fast approaching, it was difficult to see much on the ground. Flying in a spaceship wasn’t much different from traveling via airplane, apart from the gravity controls and talking dogs. He shook his head. Despite that, common sense told him a relationship with Hinekiri was impossible. Their worlds were too dissimilar. They were too different, and he was better off returning to Sloan to his settled, ordinary life. He watched the shadowed landscape and the lights that flickered on one by one until Hinekiri’s return.

  “Do you still want to go to Africa with me?”

  It was as though she could read his mind. No, this was a once in a lifetime chance. He’d never get to see Africa let alone fly in a spaceship. “Ten days. Yep, I’m game.”

  He turned and gave in to his need to touch, tucking a long strand of blonde hair behind her ear. Her normal hairdo made her hair appear short, reminding him of Mrs. Robinson off the old Lost in Space show. Long hair disguised as short wasn’t the only thing the women had in common since they both traveled in space. Pure electricity arced between them, panicking him a little with the intensity.

  “Is Killer still purple?” he blurted.

  Hinekiri dipped her head in a clipped nod, a lump in her throat. His agreement spoke of trust and it warmed her inside. Richard curled his arm around her waist when she moved closer. His possessive manner upped the heat. The mushy sensation again. Her departure date wasn’t far away, and the thought of leaving the unexpected friendship she’d found with him cast a shadow over her happiness.

  The low drone then the click of nails on the floor indicated Killer’s return.

  “Can’t see,” Killer complained, wagging her purple tail in a demanding flick.

  Hinekiri’s lips twitched as they always did when she looked at the purple dog. The Torgon color had taken well and two washes in the vac-shower hadn’t restored the dog to her normal white with black spots. She remained a delicate lilac, an excellent accessory for any fashionable Torgon.

  “I like to relax up here with a drink and watch the stars.” Hinekiri reached over to push a control button. A comfortable chair big enough for two slid out from the wall. “Big enough to share.”

  Without warning, the ship tilted alarmingly. Killer barked and fell against the wall, bouncing off with a dull thud and a loud yelp. Richard grasped the rim of the porthole and held tightly while the dog toppled across to the lift square. Hinekiri grabbed the nearest handhold, struggling to maintain control. When the ship leveled off, she zapped down to the bridge and strapped herself into the pilot’s seat.

  Not mechanical difficulties this time. A squat black spaceship that looked as if it shouldn’t get off the ground, let alone attack, was firing on them.

  “Richard. Killer. Get down here!” she hollered, bracing to begin avoidance maneuvers.

  Richard and Killer appeared almost instantly.

  “Strap in.” She indicated the chair at her side. “You’re going to need to hold Killer so she doesn’t get hurt.”

  “Why hold?” Killer barked.

  “Torgon attack ship.” A blast accompanied her words and a solar flare blinded her for precious seconds. Where was the purple bastard flying that ship? She’d have to head out of the Earth’s atmosphere. They could hardly battle here. Hinekiri zipped the ship upward, shoving the controls into hyperspeed the instant the flight path of the ship straightened out.

  Richard strapped in with the aid of Killer who told him how to work the harness restraint. Hinekiri would have laughed at the idea of the dog in charge but she had her hands full, dodging the shots fired at her ship. She whipped upward again, leaping from Earth’s atmosphere into dark space. The grinding sound that resulted didn’t sound too healthy. Fodo crap! She hoped the repairs held up okay. This was an exploratory ship and not the best for dogfights.

  She gripped the controls and braced for a sharp turn to the left. The Torgon craft flew so close she could see the smirking colorless face of the pilot, his pale eyes large and hideous as he grinned through the viewing porthole.

  “Fire underneath,” Killer ordered. “Weak underbelly.”

  Hinekiri squeezed off a shot but it was difficult to fire and fly the ship at the same time. “Richard, you need to man the guns for me so I can concentrate on flying.” She took one hand off the controls and grabbed his. She slapped it on top of the weapon control unit before glancing at the dog and jumping with instinct. “Killer will help.”

  By the goddess, she hoped this Earthling was made of strong grit and wouldn’t turn spineless when she needed him most. She wanted to live through this to see the wildebeest in Africa and to chart the next galaxy. Dammit, she intended to fulfill her next contract.

  “Richard,” Killer barked, taking control without another word. Craning her neck, she balanced on Richard’s lap barely able to see out the porthole.

  Richard swallowed, watching the craft peppering them with fiery shots with horror. Hinekiri took evasive action, turning the ship in a rapid one-hundred-and-eighty-degree roll. Richard braced his feet against the floor and tightened his grip on the dog. Fear curdled his stomach. Terror kicked him in the gut. Not even the gunman who’d tried to rob the Sloan branch of the Bank of New Zealand
had brought such icy dread.

  Killed yelped. “No hold so tight. Need to concentrate.”

  “Sorry.” Richard loosened his grip, his heart racing while his mouth turned dry as if he’d tied one on the night before. Damn, he was too old for this excitement. Hinekiri went into a loop. He screwed his eyes shut, swallowed and held the dog so she didn’t get hurt.

  The ship leveled out. Richard opened his eyes and searched for the ship. He couldn’t see it. Perhaps—no, there it was coming up beside them.

  The dog peered out the porthole, quivering with eagerness. Her black nose twitched and her floppy ears cocked in alertness. “Ready to fire.”

  Richard tensed watching the approach of the Torgon craft. His fingers hovered above the gun ignition switch with a sense of disbelief. A Kiwi cop playing space pirate. It was too far-fetched even for the movies. He froze when the ship flew in front of them, intersecting their flight path.

  Killer went rigid, eyes fixed on the porthole. “Wait. Wait. Fire!” Killer barked. “Fire!”

  Richard fired. The flash blinded him, burning the back of his retinas until all he saw were dazzling, whirling white patterns in front of his eyes.

  “Fire!”

  Richard’s finger depressed the button. The ship bucked, throwing him forward against the restraints.

  “Hit! Woof! Fire ’gain!”

  “Woo-hoo,” Hinekiri cheered. “You’ve crippled him. Let’s watch those Torgon fry!”

  “One more time,” Killer barked.

  Richard fired again, blinking rapidly in an attempt to restore his sight. He glanced across at Hinekiri. She was flying the ship, running through a series of rolling maneuvers that brought severe discomfort to his stomach. Enjoyment blazed on her features while her violet eyes shined with the thrill of the chase. Even the dog looked as though she was enjoying herself. Richard merely felt sick with each rock ’n’ roll of the ship. How could they both act so nonchalant?