Touch of Danger (Three Worlds)

by Strickland, Carol A.

  “If you can get to it.”

  “I have my own private mode of transport.”

  “That's yet to be determined.”

  “Sure.” She checked out the inside of her middle finger fingernail, giving him a surreptitious bird that this alien commander would never recognize.

  Lina felt very naughty. She'd never flipped anyone off before. It felt good. She'd have to do it again sometime.

  “What's your interest in Valiant?” Stoan asked abruptly. “Did you have something to do with the attack? Who was behind it? How well do you know Teresa Rhodes and Dr. Menlo?”

  “Other than them trying to kill me, I don't.”

  “We'll see about that.”

  With no further word, he shrank vertically to a central bar and then disappeared.

  Lina blinked at the effect before she realized that Jae had been sitting across from her on a lab table, hidden from her view by Stoan.

  He eased off his table and paused before resuming his business. “Have a nice talk?” he asked. “Getting to know everyone?”

  Chapter 13

  Londo rounded the corner just in time to miss Jae's comment. Lina needed another shower, too, to wash away the sweat and salt water and Stoan's presence. So not only were Londo's enemies against her, but his employer and friend were as well. Shit.

  Lon's condition was more important than that right now. She hurried to him. He leaned on her as they made their way to the break room.

  As they entered Jae was ahead of them, already reaching into that cabinet from which meals appeared. He brought forth a loaded plate and steaming mug. “Londo's favorites,” he said and set them down on the table as Londo carefully eased himself onto the banquette.

  This was worse than Jae watching her squirm before the Legion commander. Londo was hers to help. Lina glowered at Jae.

  Jae gave an ingratiating shrug. “You'll have to learn these things.”

  Dammit, he was right, but he didn't have to be so smug about it. He knew what Londo ate while on Sarastor, and could operate the food cabinet. Lon's plate did smell very good.

  But Lina could feel Lon's twinge at it. “Lon, can you stomach this now?”

  “Of course I can.” But he didn't hurry toward the dish as a whole, just the soft gray stuff that was heaped on one side.

  “How about some soup instead? Can we put this in a fridge for later? Do they have chicken soup here?” Her question switched from Londo to Jae, who frowned at her.

  “Chicken soup,” he parroted the English. With a glance at Londo, he turned to configuring the meal cabinet. What he brought out was a double-handled soup bowl.

  “Thanks, Jae,” Lon said as he wrapped his unsteady hands around it.

  It smelled good enough, though clearly it wasn't chicken. Lina could see some kind of somethings in there which she hoped were healthy veggies. Londo sipped a few times before he gave a good chug. After that it was back to sips until he settled down to using a spoon.

  Lina relaxed. Londo had what he needed. He was getting better.

  Jae leaned against the counter with his own mug. He seemed expectant. Or maybe he was just watching Londo closely.

  “Stop staring,” Londo said into the bowl. “It's good.”

  Jae grunted and then attended to his drink.

  “Well,” Lina said into the silence. “Guess I'll take a shower now. If you're in good hands.”

  Jae's sour expression now refocused on her.

  “And you are.” Lina squeezed Lon's arm before sliding out of the banquette. He nodded to her before returning his attention to the meal at hand.

  Lon and Lina sat in front of a small window in the outer wall of the lab while Wiley stood behind them. Londo had handled three more shots and had a network of sensors taped to his bare chest.

  “You sure you're not cold?” Lina asked him.

  “Not a bit. And if I feel a chill—” He pushed his chair closer to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Warmer,” he pronounced to Lina's smile.

  Wiley said, “Here's a concentrated burst of biocleaning rays, aksel, set for ten seconds. Starting now.”

  Lina stared at the microwave-sized compartment within the window. It looked exactly the same now as it had before.

  “Can't you see them?” Lon pointed at it. “Narrow yellow rays. They leave a green glow on surfaces for maybe a half-second.”

  Lina shook her head. “Nothing.”

  “I always thought it was kind of pretty. Too bad no one else could see it. Well, except Hal.”

  “Maybe if the rays had something to work on I could figure it out,” she said hopefully.

  Wiley thought a moment. “The compartment is sealed. Port something in if you can. Make it disposable. Such a concentration of aksel will probably destroy it.”

  So she chose an object and concentrated on porting. “Jeez, the electrical difference is so great…” After two minutes a folded black tee appeared in the compartment. “I've always hated that shirt,” she told Londo as Wiley noted the incredibly short time it took to transport something in from Earth.

  Londo merely swore fluently.

  Wiley triggered the aksel again and Lina watched. “I don't— Oh. Is that what it is.” The shirt began to burn and turned into ashes in seconds.

  She turned to Wiley. “Okay, I got it.”

  “Do you think you can mimic the effects?”

  “No. They say that those are an outside force. I'd have to be able to produce those rays myself. Guess I'm stuck with constant quarantines.”

  Londo set down the nutri-drink he'd been sucking through a straw and told her, “What you need to do is forget being a biocleaner. Try to filter what you port. Just don't let anything harmful through. You can do that, right?”

  “Biofilter?” Lina chewed over the concept. “I might be able to. Why didn't I think of it?”

  “You would have eventually,” Lon assured her with a squeeze. Ordinarily Wiley would have separated them so Londo could heal fast, but he'd laced Lon's drink with special medi-nanites that would direct Lon's healing process as well as see to potential internal problems. With Londo's defenses down whenever he touched Lina, the nanites could do their job.

  “All right. We'll call this phase two.” Wiley signaled the computer to clear the compartment.

  Now Lina chose to bring in a plastic chess pawn. “It's here,” she immediately announced for Wiley's benefit. “Just not quite here. It's outside.” She held it in that phantom space to compensate for atmosphere and potential, then tried to tune into all its germs and shove them away before letting the pawn materialize.

  Londo scanned it with a handheld padd. Just three minutes from Earth to Sarastor! In all his travels he'd never heard of anything remotely like this.

  “It's a start,” he told her. “Contamination is significantly less compared to the shirt, but still très dangereux. Let's try it again. You can do better.”

  He held the padd for her to see, but it was in a strange language, or in Terran notations so obtuse that Lina had no idea if they were supposed to make sense. But they did to Londo. Everything Out Here did. He was as much at ease here as he would have been on Earth. The exotic and alien were his home.

  Not hers.

  Wiley cleared the compartment and Lina brought in another piece, a rook this time. She held it outside as she tried to go through every microscopic particle of it, but suddenly—

  “Whoops.”

  They looked at her.

  “It's gone. Not back to Earth. It's just—gone.”

  Wiley made some notes on his padd. “So there's a time limit on how long you can hold something in stasis.” He checked his screen. “Five and a half minutes, approximately. We'll need to get an exact reading later.”

  “Terrific, now I've got a time limit,” Lina grumbled. “Maybe it's just a case of practice shaving some time off the process.”

  “You're on the right track,” Lon encouraged.

  An hour later she apologized for no
t improving quickly enough. She was getting better at screening some of the contagion out of the objects, but also crept closer to her time limit. Wiley was fascinated when she brought in a knight just as it dissolved in front of their eyes.

  “Subatomic cohesion breaking down?” he theorized, and replayed the moment through his sensors. “Reversion to dark matter?”

  “Shit,” Lina muttered.

  “I think that was very cool,” Lon soothed. He eased back into the chair beside Lina and handed her a cup of hot tea made of nutri-mins. “Drink,” he told her. He waited for her to comply, and then stood up to massage the back of her neck. She leaned against his hands. “Don't sweat it, kitten. Take a break. You'll get this.”

  “But probably not before quarantine ends naturally,” she complained and sighed. “I wish someone would turn on a radio, Muzak at the very least. I'm going crazy with the silence.”

  Lon chuckled. “I know what you mean. But they don't have music here.”

  “So Wiley said.” Lina stretched and Lon rubbed her shoulders around the bandages. He had magic hands. His wide fingers knew her so well. “Too bad we can't pick up any TV. We could use that as background noise.”

  “Voyons, the classics,” Lon mused, and then broke into song: “Come and listen to a story 'bout a man named Jed…” He drawled it out, yodeling on some of the notes. Lina couldn't help but laugh.

  “Londo!” Wiley looked very cross indeed. Music in his lab!

  Londo grinned and kept going. Lina wanted to join in, but between him and Wiley's expression she laughed so hard she couldn't even speak. It didn't help when Londo took off on his own vocal version of the banjo ending, air-picking his way to a grand finale. Lina applauded and Londo bowed graciously to both her and Wiley, who stood with his arms folded across his chest practically under his chin.

  “Are you quite finished?” the doctor huffed.

  “I've got lots more,” Londo threatened.

  “I will not stand for any more of this Terran barbarism in here,” Wiley declared. “What you do in your own quarters, behind your own doors, is your business. But you are a guest in my laboratory, and you'll keep some decorum or I'll file a complaint. You can't stand to have too many more demerits.”

  Londo made a show of prissily settling back in his chair. (It involved a great deal of shaking his butt and shoulders.) It was a difficult feat to achieve when one had his broad musculature.

  “I hardly have any demerits on file,” he claimed. “And I bet I can come up with something that will earn you some demerits if I really try.” He nudged Lina. “Terran barbarians. Huh.”

  Lina stage-whispered back, “At least we barbarians keep the temperature in our laboratories to a decent level.”

  She'd been sitting tailor-fashion, her stockinged feet tucked up under her for warmth. Wiley had made some comments about Terrans who didn't know how to sit in a civilized manner, but she'd ignored him.

  “It's fine in here,” Wiley said. “So you can control indoor conditions on Earth?” he asked Lina.

  She grunted at him stupidly. “Ugh. Fire good.”

  One of the colored squares in the wall lit up as Wiley touched it. Londo jumped out of his chair and cowered, covering his eyes. “Fire bright!” he squalled. “Fire burn!”

  He let out a series of shrieking monkey cries and bounded about this cleared area of lab, his knuckles dragging the ground. He noogied Jae as he bounced past, and then hopped back to Wiley. There he bowed down monkeylike and made motions of kissing Wiley's feet. “Ci-vi-lized!” he ooked. “Not Terran!”

  “Point made,” Wiley sighed.

  Lina had never seen such a showman as Londo. “How do Leos do that?” she wanted to know.

  “Is that what it is,” Wiley said sourly. “And here I thought he was merely insane.” He let a beat pass. “Or Terran.”

  “Ouch.” Lon straightened until he was on eye level with Wiley. He had to rise in the air to do so, his feet entirely leaving the ground; Wiley was over a handspan taller than he. “Step outside and say that, pardnah.” Out of the corner of his eye he glanced at Lina. **Amused, chérie?**

  **I'd pay double admission to watch your act, Lon. What say when quarantine is over, we shanghai everyone here to Earth? I think they need a few lessons in real civilization.**

  Lon gave her a grin of agreement at that.

  Jae sat well away from them at the wall's communications station. He'd been talking to several people: mundane Legion business, apparently, but making a little show of not participating in the great porting experiments. “Hey Lon,” he called now, “if you don't have anything else to do—and it seems you don't—L-PIC wants you.”

  Londo muttered something dark under his breath. “Tell 'em I'm sick,” he said out loud.

  “It doesn't look like it to me. C'mon, I'll share some with you.”

  “Share some what?” Lina asked Lon.

  “Interviews. All the time interviews,” Londo grumbled. “None of my mission reports have been released to the media lately, so these will be the little gossipy kind.” Giving a tight, saccharine smile, he undulated his shoulders and raised his hands like he was handling the Queen's tea service, pinkies extended. Then he bared his teeth. “I hate the little gossipy kind.”

  “Just tell them you're not dressed for it.”

  Lon's vest had been torn in half, and he hadn't put on the shirt Lina'd ported in with, so he'd been walking around spectacularly bare-chested. Wilder had made a few remarks about proper Legionnaire deportment and Jae had accused Londo of showing off for Lina. Lon had ignored both of them. He'd chivalrously sacrificed both his shirt and socks for Lina to use in addition to her robe.

  He gave her a squeeze now and added his mischievous smile. “That's no problem around here. You take a break and watch, why don't you? Get your mind away from this stuff.”

  He talked to Jae and Jae's screen for a few minutes before the two arranged some chairs in a cubicle opposite from the break room. As Wiley helped them, the equipment behind them shimmered and disappeared behind an illusion of a smooth, neutral-colored wall. It displayed an oval emblem with a child's version of a bird, a “V” with wingtips, flying through it. It was the same emblem as on everyone's rings, so it must be the logo for the organization.

  Lon disappeared into the bathroom and came back with his hair perfectly styled. Jae just shook his head violently and patted his mop of hair into position, grinning superiorly at Lon. Then they took their places in the chairs. Three baseball-sized metal globes hovered at eye-level in front of them. A monitor scrolled down from the ceiling.

  “Lower,” Lon directed in Lingua, and the screen descended to slightly below their eye level so they could see it comfortably. “That good for you?” Lon asked Jae.

  “Fine.”

  Lina walked up behind Wiley. “How come you aren't in this, too?” she asked softly as the others talked back and forth about technical setup.

  Wiley shrugged. “The press doesn't like to interview me.”

  “Why not?”

  “They say I talk down to them. They can't understand what I'm saying.”

  “I bet you it's the eye thing. You seem quite understandable to me, and apparently I'm just an idiot barbarian. Then again, maybe it's the translator.”

  “That reminds me.” He turned and adjusted the translator marble so that it set almost in her ear canal. “Don't want any—”

  “Feedback,” Lina finished for him.

  That surprised Wiley. “So Earth does have some technology,” he said.

  “Of course it does. If this interview was supposed to be just Lon, why is Jae sitting in?”

  “Lon will do it if Jae's there. That's the only way any more that Lon does this kind of interview. If they have Londo alone, interviewers have a tendency to ask him embarrassing personal questions. This way they skip that. Besides, everyone knows that Jae and Lon are best friends.”

  “Best friends?”

  “Mm. They grew up here together. They'r
e practically the same age.”

  That explained a lot of Jae's possessive attitude. Oh great; Lon's best friend disliked her. Still Lina's mouth quirked. “And they're both a little looney tunes.” That made Lon glance at her from across the room with a sparkle in his eyes.

  “They've both had a lot of advanced psychiatric treatment, if that's what you mean, yes. For a newsgroup to request Valiant and wind up with Neutrino and Valiant is a definite coup for them. Now quiet, they're ready to begin.” He pointed at a screen he had scrolled down for himself to watch. It bloomed to life.

  There sat Lon and Jae, the same as they were sitting now, but Lon was in full uniform and Jae wore gloves and a cape, with a bodysuit and tight vest. His outfit was vivid blue and white, unlike the neutral sweater he was really wearing, and there were blue metallic triangles prominent on each shoulder.

  Lina hadn't realized how gray Lon's skin really was until she saw the color-corrected version onscreen. There it was a healthy, light nut brown. Still, in person he was looking far better than he had yesterday.

  He was indeed the all-Canadian guy next door: easy in his handsomeness and athletic bulk, his face not too chiseled, but not round at all. His noble nose was ever so slightly larger than normal and a bit Roman in attitude. Lina chuckled to herself. Large noses were sometimes a sign of a large ego. Londo had no doubts about how wonderful he was. Such a Leo!

  The two Legionnaires greeted the interviewer, seen screen-within-screen, and Lina wondered if the reporter were manufactured CGI, too.

  **Does this mean that they could be sitting there stark raving naked if they wanted?**

  Wiley gave a start at the sudden telepathic contact but recovered speedily. **I doubt if they'd do that with me handling the feed,** he returned in the exaggerated, word-by-word way non-telepaths had to speak to telepaths. **The controls might slip accidentally.**

  Lon was talking to the reporter. “Eh bien, I just got in from Earzh,” he said as if it happened every day. For some reason Lon's problem with “th” bothered Lina when it came to the name of their home planet. Otherwise, his accent was ridiculously romantic.

  “Someone there tried to kill me and didn't quite succeed. And when I arrived here,” he shrugged his shoulders, “I got stuck in quarantine for a couple days.”