Eye of the Gazelle

by Marcia Tucker

  “There are alternate futures, yes. But the probabilities for success are sharply decreased from the one which I presented to you. The encounters must happen. Your...” Thho paused, unwilling to refer to them as offspring. “Those small ones. There is every indication of success. If you need an estimate, I would place their chances at 73%.”

  Damn... Vekta felt a threatening surge of despair. Hastily he suppressed it through applying autoemform techniques as best as he was able. He'd already asked Thho if she would intervene, but had only gotten a stony silence from her.

  “You see that you must learn the Attitudes,” Thho added tersely. “They will need your powers when the time comes.”

  That was undeniable; the scenario which Thho had painted was a one-way path. If only Vekta could get to them. “Thho... where is Pel? How far from Gozgazel?”

  The Pelan had observed the Dracon's thoughts without sympathy, for it was not in her to feel compassion. Not in the normal sense — feelings of concern for particular individuals. Her only concern for Vekta's well-being, including his emotional state, was directly connected to her larger goals. Intellectually she thought she understood his desire to help his offspring, but considering that they would probably do fine without him, she saw no need to contact them, much less assist them. The Dracon's Attitude training would take some time. Considering the long-term benefits of having the Attitudes of Consciousness at his disposal, Thho thought the possible sacrifice of two or three might be worth it.

  “This star cluster, your Messier 54, is about 87,000 light years — to use your distance designation — from the center of your United Star Communities, though of course in a different dimension,” Thho replied patiently. “I do not have any specific designation for my universe. Since you strangely like to name things, you may give it whatever designation you wish. As far as physical laws, I think you've already observed that the light frequencies here are different. You are unable to normally see those differences, but with the Attitudes it will be possible.”

  Vekta's mind was spinning with these new ideas, but he had more pressing concerns still. “And what about Novella? Can you see what will happen to her?”

  The Pelan replied solemnly, “You do not need to be concerned.”

  “Is that all you want of me? To learn to use the Attitudes then train other High telepaths to use them?” Vekta asked, irritated. Of course he was concerned, frightened, terrified, excited, and determined, all at once.

  “Yes,” Thho replied, though it was another lie. It was all she was willing to ask of him right now. The rest could come when he was ready.

  Vekta had an inner suspicion that there was more to this, that Thho had another motive, but he didn't voice the concern. If the Pelan was reading his thoughts, he didn't care. He was going to have to put in the time right now to learn these powers. “All right,” he said with a sigh, gazing back at the remarkable being before him. “Let's begin.”

  7: Attractions

  As the Starglobe Korvaleen started off on the thirteen day trip to the Phorsev System, Tesirax left Novella alone. She had refused the opulent guest quarters the new Imperial Khagan had offered her, choosing instead a more utilitarian room reserved for officers. The guest quarters, she'd been told, were normally occupied by visiting Khagan or Kadir, telepaths from the highest class in their society — Mahotar. It had chilled her to hear Tesirax's description of the available sex toys and devices as well as the full stock of the most popular hallucinogenic and alcoholic offerings.

  Tossing her uniform tunic upon the bed, Novella tugged the light blue undershirt down and sank into a reclining chair, sighing. Her hand extended to the side. It was a long moment before she realized there was no Freen there to join tendrils with her fingers. I've never been so far from everything I know, she thought, shivering a bit. And Vekta's had years of this, working solo in the Taree Empire and all over the USC. To be so alone, for so long...

  A voice over the ship intercom broke into her thoughts. “Major Novella, if I could request a few moments of your time... join me in the lounge?” The Khagan's voice was silky smooth; she was warned.

  “Of course,” she replied, getting up from the chair and snagging her tunic again. “I'll be there in a while.”

  She waited five minutes, not wanting in any way to give the Taree leader any reason to think she might be eager to see him. Then, taking a deep breath, she left her room to go updeck to the VIP lounge, the same one she and Vekta had been sitting in when he'd disappeared.

  Tesirax appeared the picture of patience, relaxed and smiling widely. The white mantle had been cast aside, and the neck of his black Legion uniform was open. He gestured for her to sit down with him, then waved at a selection of beverages on the table. “I didn't know what you might like, Novella,” he purred. “May I call you Novella?”

  She sat and looked at the array of glasses and cups, rather than at him. “I couldn't possibly be less than formal with one of the five Imperial Khagans of the Taree Empire,” she murmured, ducking her head in a little bow. “Could you describe these, please?”

  He looked peeved for a couple seconds, then put on the wide smile again. “Of course, you would have no idea. Here we have one of our finest brews... the beans were selected by my own chef and fresh roasted right before we left Sarga, less than a couple months ago.” He pushed forward a steaming cup of a black substance.

  “I don't drink jav, excuse me,” Novella said hastily. She inadvertently put the back of her hand to her nose against the acrid aroma, unpleasant to Dracons.

  “No? Then this lovely tea, the first leaves picked at their optimum—”

  “Nothing with caffeine in it, thank you,” she interrupted. Glancing at the other drinks, she guessed most of the rest probably had alcohol in them. “Or alcohol.”

  “No?” Tesirax looked bewildered. “I have something here that's only very mildly stimulating.”

  “No, thank you,” Novella said, her glance sliding away. Did Vekta refuse their beverages, too, or did he imbibe to be diplomatic? How pissed is this going to make Tesirax?

  “What do you drink for pleasure?” the Khagan fairly snapped. “Surely there's something that helps you relax!”

  “I'm fine, thank you. Just water or fruit juice.”

  “Oh, well, we have juice. Excuse me.” Tesirax clapped his hands a couple times; at the summons, a woman wearing the plain black uniform of an Adjaniman entered and bowed in half, wrists crossed at her throat.

  “My Khagan,” she murmured, careful not to look at him.

  “Ruvlia juice for my guest,” he ordered, not looking at the servant. “Be sure to prepare it specially.”

  The woman glanced up briefly, then hurriedly tucked her gaze somewhere else. “I shall comply,” she murmured, then backed out and left the lounge.

  “Please forgive me, this is the preference of all Dracons,” Novella explained, hoping she hadn't offended him too badly. She'd noted how the Khagan had treated the woman, a servant, but recognizable as a guard of the Accatar class of lower intelligence workers.

  “All?” Tesirax said a little too sharply, then gave her a short bark of a laugh. “Well, Vekta Rentclifv is no ordinary Dracon, then. The Starguards have attended negotiations on our main planets from time to time, and I've never seen him or anyone else refuse the refreshments. Which were inspected before hand, of course. But refusing something because it has caffeine or alcohol in it...” He shrugged. “Never seen that.”

  “I don't know about that. I apologize if I made a difficult request,” Novella said quietly. Did Vekta... really?

  “No, it's quite all right,” Tesirax said, picking out a tall glass of a frothy green substance for himself. “You won't mind if I indulge, right?”

  “As you wish, Khagan.”

  The Adjaniman came back in with a glass of a translucent, pale pink liquid and set it in front of Novella, then cleared the table of the other beverages. She nodded to the Khagan before leaving.
“Specially prepared, my Khagan.”

  “Very good,” he said with a nod, but he still had not once looked at the servant. He nudged the glass closer to Novella. “Juice of a ruvlia... probably similar to a Terran apple. I think you will like this.”

  What does “specially prepared” mean? Novella was wondering as she lifted the glass. She could indeed smell a deliciously fruity scent.

  The Taree was taking a long swig from his own glass. “Ahhh, it's a shame you can't enjoy this! It's my favorite, deliquiro, from Abdisina, carefully crafted for a most interesting... effect. But, your juice... I assure you, no caffeine, no alcohol. Please, refresh yourself.”

  I can't trust him, but he is an Imperial Khagan, Novella was thinking. Surely he wouldn't... it's just juice, right? I hope he doesn't drink too much of his drink. What does he mean, interesting effect? Sighing, she decided diplomatic relations were worth a little risk. And took a sip of her juice.

  Indeed, it was quite delicious. Emboldened, she took another swallow.

  “There, pleasant, isn't it?” Tesirax purred. He watched her, wearing a smirk that she surmised had been induced by his alcoholic drink.

  “It's very nice,” Novella said with a sigh, and took another, deeper swallow. For some reason, she wanted to keep drinking this wonderful juice. Then, alerted, she froze minutely — only a second — then relaxed again, too much, feeling a warming sensation where she'd least expected to feel one. It was too late.

  He's drugged me... but I can't... I can't do anything about it, she thought helplessly as she took another swallow. Then even her initial horror faded away, and any fear she might have about what this could mean. She felt aroused.

  Tesirax came around the table to slide into the chair beside her, wearing what was now a lascivious smirk. “Ah, you're feeling it now,” he whispered, bringing his face close to hers. “Don't worry, pretty lady, I won't do anything much... just a nice bit of friendly play, is all. This juice is to make sure you enjoy it, too... as my own drink ensures my own... pleasure.” He filtered his fingers into her long black hair, brushing it back, feeling its silkiness. “It really isn't so bad, is it?”

  Novella felt detached, as if observing herself from the outside, but unable to affect the sensations within her body. She was hyperaware of Tesirax's attractive maleness, the delicious tease of his nearness. Curious, she wondered just how far he was going to take this play.

  “I'm not even going to kiss you,” he murmured, his lips very close to hers. He grinned; usually the female was eager to kiss him first at this point. “This play is all about wanting... and I'm guessing you're starting to want me very much about now. You like my fingers in your hair... or my thumb across your lips...” He acted out his words.

  The touch to her lips gave her a shiver. “I—”

  “You don't have to say anything, pretty Novella,” Tesirax said in a low voice. “Or do anything, really, though I know you might... want to.” He chuckled. “You can just listen while I talk, while I play my favorite little game. It's just play, to tease you this way. Space voyages are long... but I know this will be my only chance with you. It's just too much fun to miss, you know?”

  His voice dropped like silk upon her heightened senses. “I'll just tell you what I'd rather be doing — with my hands — and maybe with more of me.” A finger lowered to trace her collarbone. “I'd like to take this tunic off you — so formal and stiff — is that pale blue undershirt clingy? Perhaps something I could see though? It'd be nice to see your lovely breasts. I can tell from your side profile they'd be rather nice, ample and soft, aren't they?”

  Novella realized she was growing wet from his smooth seduction. He'd barely touched her, but his satin voice and his nearness and the drug were working their magic on her. I want... more... I want his hands on me...

  “I'm going to be very good to you, even though we both know that right now, I could give you so much more. Do you want to know how much more?” Tesirax reached for her hand and pulled it gently between his legs so she could feel the erection straining against his uniform pants.

  A whimper escaped her. He laughed.

  “But I'm not giving it to you. Even I know better! After all, I'm an Imperial Khagan now, right? Even though I want you just as much...” He sucked in his breath. “Or more... but we mustn't do that, of course. But playing doesn't hurt, doesn't put us in a place we cannot return from. Mmmm, you are very beautiful and desirable. I could...”

  Tesirax paused, his hand lifting again; he noted that she immediately took her hand back. “Ah, well. I suppose I was hoping for too much after all. I suppose I've done enough, haven't I?” He shifted his body away from hers, moving back to look at her face from a more circumspect distance. “So pretty! It's such a shame you're one of those stuffy Dracons. What a waste!”

  To her inner shock, Tesirax abruptly scooped her up in his arms and started out of the lounge with her, though she easily had six inches on him. Then he autoported to her room and laid her on her bed. “Well, I'd best leave you now. Don't want to get in too much trouble with your Cenntl when you tell him what an evil man I am. Although it might be difficult to tell him how I tricked you. So delightfully naïve... ah, well. Do enjoy yourself now... Novella.”

  And then he was gone, autoported back, probably to his quarters. Would he take care of his own need himself? Or summon a servant — for that was plainly what the Adjaniman guards were.

  Another whimper escaped her. Bastard, she thought as she dashed into the room's personal unit, adjusting the shower setting to ice-cold.

  *

  Later, she would shed any lingering thought of guilt. I won't let anything like that happen again, Novella promised herself ruthlessly. I won't be so gullible! I'll cept down to the molecular level if I have to in order to make sure any food stuffs aren't similarly drugged. I have to eat... but surely he wouldn't dare try that again? Still, I can't trust him at all.

  Sighing, she finished taking a second shower and retrieved her uniform from the auto cleanser installation in her suite, dressing quickly. I'm not even going to think of him! He's not worth thought... but if he contacts me again, I might have to burn a few of his neurons. He's only a Level 7, right? She knew all too well that he'd deftly manipulated her into drinking that “juice.” She hadn't expected it, and so hadn't thought to read him more closely.

  Brushing out her wet hair, Novella turned her thoughts elsewhere — to the last moments in which she'd seen Vekta Rentclifv. Something happened between us... because of our matching? she mused, remembering the strange sensation. He was telling me about that entity, the one that saved me and who killed Korgovax. Did it take him somewhere? Something about it wanting to show him new powers?

  She sat on her bed and hugged her knees to herself. I didn't want him to leave me, Novella wondered. This is more than the fear of being left alone on the Starglobe with the Taree. It's him, the loss of Vekta himself that's so profound. Like... like he's the most important person to me. My mental match... and more?

  Novella pictured Vekta on the Andromedea, when he had trumpeted his pride in Crater's part in fooling the Sdaldi when they had been merged back at Aldebaran. While professionally she might have been suspicious of his methods and wary of how he'd made Crater a telepathic receiver, she had to admit that the computer scientist in her was thrilled at his achievements and even ached to collaborate with him.

  But that “Starguard mentality” with which he was infected? It both excited and frightened her. Since joining the Fleet twelve years before, Novella had been content on Defender starships, serving as a computer technician, then supervisor, then Chief of Computer Operations. She'd also been able to work on her own research to her satisfaction; she was renowned for her work on microids, the tiny machines so effective in starship systems maintenance. bBut never had she been so challenged before Vekta Rentclifv had appeared on her personal horizon. In a good way — professionally and even personally.

  Novella had
tested as a Level 8 High telepath at age seventeen, the year before she graduated from Fleet Institute. But little had been asked of her powers. She had been scouted to transfer to the Guard, but that would have meant danger and less opportunity to do her research — or so she'd thought. She'd turned down the offer.

  Certainly Vekta Rentclifv hadn't developed the Crater-class cybernism in merely a year. Crater 0001 had been activated about six months after Vekta left the Guard upon the death of his wife. Evidently he'd been working on the Crater for years before then, though he'd been traveling extensively as a Starguard. And much of that had been in the Taree Empire.

  I could do that in the Guard now... and maybe together...

  But it was more than the prospect of working with the incredible cybernetics engineer. The matching changed that. My other self? she thought, tucking her face against her knees. What does it really mean? My soulmate? Are we fated to be together? She realized that she could easily fall in love with Vekta Rentclifv, or might even love him already. No one has ever made me feel like this, like being close to him will allow me to be the most myself... my best self.

  It wasn't that she didn't feel complete in herself; her new resolve here among the very different Taree taught her that. It was more that the prospect of partnering with Vekta Rentclifv would enable her to achieve more than she'd ever dreamed possible.

  Lifting her head, Novella sighed and smiled wanly. It won't be easy for him. He may not want any relationship with me at all, and his kids haven't exactly warmed up to me. She chuckled weakly, laughing at herself. Falling for a man who is probably still grieving the loss of his wife and whose kids hate me... right, Novella Aurand, what are you thinking?!

  She felt warmth, thinking about Vekta. And that warmth, she now knew, was in stark, sharp contrast to the artificially induced heat that Tesirax had forced upon her. In a way, that unfortunate experience only taught her that what she was feeling toward Vekta Rentclifv was indeed the real thing. It wasn't a prurient warmth of arousal; it was the bloom of a treasured regard for someone who was important to her, someone she wanted very much to support, to receive support from, to partner in a matching of minds, and hopefully more. She could call it love and savor it, hold it close until she would see him once more.