by Caro Soles
Cham clung to him for a long time as the tension gradually drained away.
Finally Triani said softly, “You okay, now, lover? I’m starving.”
Cham laughed a little shakily and wiped his eyes. “Do you want some wine?”
“You go wash your face, sweetie. I’ll pour it.”
When Cham came back, he sat on the cushion beside Triani and took a sip of wine. “I’ve got something to tell you,” he began.
“Baby, it’ll never be as bad again as it was today.”
“I don’t mean the rehearsal. Something happened at the picnic.”
“You laid the girl.”
“Be serious.” Cham looked at him reproachfully. “This is really weird. While we were walking in a field, we found one of those big watch dogs drowned in a stream. His middle eye had come out. Except it wasn’t an eye. It was a video camera.”
Triani stared at him, his glass half way to his lips. “Shit! Those bloody sneaks! Talk about invasion of privacy!” He jumped to his feet and looked around for his boots. “Holy shit! If I’m going to be in the porno business, I’m sure as hell going to get paid for it! Where can I find the Chief? And where’s that shitty dog now?”
Cham was on his feet, clinging to his arm. “Please, Triani! It’s ten o’clock at night! We can’t go to the Great Chief now! It’s pitch black out there! The dog is in the bedroom,” he added.
“Well, he’s not going to be there tonight,” muttered Triani, sitting down and picking up his wine. Cham knelt beside him. “You don’t have to say anything about the girl, do you? I mean, it’s not really necessary and besides, I think she’ll get into a lot of trouble if her parents find out she was alone with me.”
“Well, well! If it isn’t the Merculian Menace!” laughed Triani. “What do you care anyway? It was her idea.”
“I know, but still….” Cham sighed. “Everything I do here seems to come out…wrong.”
Triani made a sound of annoyance and tossed off the rest of his wine. “Come on. We’ll tell Benvolini the whole thing and see if he can keep her out of it. He’s the Ambassador. It’s his problem.”
Cham was not looking forward to a recital of his private picnic in front of Benvolini and Eulio. It occurred to him that not only Quana might get into trouble over this, but there was nothing for it but to take Triani’s hand and follow him to the Ambassador’s apartment.
Even before the door opened they could hear the music. The male android who stood there had his name on a silver disk around his neck, spelt out in the Merculian alphabet because Eulio found it hard to remember.
“My masters are occupied, lords,” he said solemnly, holding the outer door open with one large hand. “So I hear.” Triani pushed the door further open and sailed in, his black velvet robe brushing lightly against the android. Someone was playing the Merculian pipes, and judging from the results, it could only be Eulio. His mother, a well-known maker of the instruments, had taught him at an early age. Wild and achingly sweet, the clear notes sounded from the other room. A high, crystalline soprano sang along with the instrument, weaving a counter-melody around it. The voice hesitated, stopped. Laughter filled the sudden space before they started over again. Triani said; “This is urgent. Call Chai Benvolini at once.”
The android did not move. “I cannot, lord. They said not to disturb.”
“Oh shit,” said Triani. He marched past the anxious android and thumped on the inner door with his fist.
The music stopped. The door opened.
“What the bloody damn…” Beny was holding a tall glass. His turquoise tunic hung open and his feet were bare. Behind him, Triani could see Eulio sitting on the raised platform by the pool, one bare leg dangling in the water as he held the gilded Merculian pipes close to his chest. His lavender robe was bunched up around his thighs. He leaned his head against the wall and squinted up at Triani. He was a little drunk. He always maintained he played better that way.
Triani spread his hands placatingly. “Hi, Benvolini, sweetie. I’m sorry to bother you. I really am. But this is important. Cham has something to tell you.”
“At this hour?”
“I know. It’s late. Dhakan, why don’t you take the brute for a walk, okay sweetie?”
The android remained impassive. He didn’t move.
“He looks like he wants to pee. Don’t you think so, Benvolini?” Triani went on. He gestured with one hand and touched Beny’s arm for a moment, holding the contact.
Beny’s pupils dilated slightly. He fastened his tunic, picked up his belt from the floor, smoothed his bright curls. “Dhakan, Triani’s right. Take him out, please.”
The android bowed at once, grabbed the dog by its collar and headed for the door.
“This had better be good, Triani.”
“But what do they want, darling?” Eulio complained as Beny helped him to his feet. When nobody answered, he scooped up a bottle of wine and followed them to the other room. He sank languidly into a sofa and delicately crossed his ankles. “If you hauled yourself away from your sweet, juvenile games at this hour, Triani darling, it must be important indeed.”
“Watch it, baby!” Triani scowled at him but Eulio only laughed.
“Not now, you two,” said Beny, wearily. He moved behind the sofa where Eulio lay. “What’s this all about? What have you got to tell me, Chamion?” Cham cleared his throat. His round, grey eyes flicked to Triani, then back to the Ambassador. He told his story to Benvolini. Wringing his hands in his earnestness, he begged him not to reveal Quana’s name. At last he showed him the green lens of the video eye.
The Ambassador’s face turned a flaming red.
Eulio lay unmoving on the sofa while the color slowly drained from his cheeks. “God’s teeth, Orosin!” He reached for Beny’s hand.
Beny sank down beside Eulio. “I suspect we’re not the only ones they’ve been watching,” he began calmly, studying the inlaid pattern of the wooden floor. “I’ve seen many of these animals around in the short time I’ve been here. The bedroom aspect is probably nothing but an unexpected fringe benefit for them. I’m sure that’s not the reason for this elaborate scheme. They want to study us, our habits, our way of speaking to each other, what we talk about and what we say about them behind their backs.”
“Audio-visual teaching aids, sweetie?”
“Something like that. By the way, Chamion. Did you tell Triani your plans about the picnic with the girl?”
“Of course, chai. Last night.”
“With the dog watching? I’m afraid the identity of your friend is already known.”
Cham pounded the arm of his chair and swore. “It’s not your fault,” said Triani.
Beny got to his feet. “Thank you both for coming to me with this. Just keep the bloody damn dog out of the way for now and I’ll tell the others to do the same. Tomorrow we’ll have the video eye disconnected.”
“Anything to oblige.” Triani draped his arm over Cham’s shoulder. “Come on, child. Playtime.”
SIX
“Are you positive this is important?” Thar-von’s voice crackled sharply from the small communication device in Beny’s hand.
“Bloody damn, Von, don’t make me give you an order!”
“I’ll be there in five minutes.”
Eulio had fallen asleep on the sofa. Beny woke him up. “Go to bed, chaleen. This will take awhile.”
“I’m sorry I can’t stay and help, but I’m so very tired.”
“So am I,” muttered Beny. He helped himself to one of Eulio’s short-term stimulants and went back to the other room to pace.
Thar-von arrived fully and impeccably dressed in exactly five minutes. He bowed.
“What’s the matter?” asked Beny warily.
“I fail to understand why every Merculian crisis has to occur close to midnight,” he replied, his voice tight. Beny was shaking with fatigue. As a Merculian, he needed many more hours of sleep than Thar-von did. He found it very difficult to keep his objectivity a
nd the stimulant played havoc with his nerves. He turned away from the man he had considered a good friend for years and sat down on one of the many fur-covered chairs.
“I do not control the times of the crises,” he said as calmly as he could. “I apologize if I have inconvenienced you. Sit down. Please.”
Thar-von took the chair opposite him and bent his head to listen as Beny carefully related Cham’s story.
“Does that rate Serpian approval as a genuine crisis?” he finished acidly.
Thar-von blinked. “As I see it, the main problem is that they did not inform us before hand. Otherwise, I can see the watch dogs as a fine invention. They could take children to school and bring people home safely late at night. They could do guard duty and crowd control. Mine goes running with me early in the morning. Now I will feel doubly secure.”
“I’m happy for you,” said Beny sarcastically. He clamped down on his feelings of anger, suspecting it was because the Serpian had no reason to be upset or embarrassed as they had. He looked at him consideringly. “Where do you keep your animal?”
“It sleeps at the foot of my bed.”
Beny thought he spotted a flash of amusement in the navy blue eyes. “You smug, self satisfied bastard,” he muttered.
“Would you care to repeat that, Ambassador?”
“No!” Beny looked about helplessly for a moment, wondering what had happened to their old, easygoing relationship.
“If I may be frank, Orosin, I understand perfectly why you are so upset about this invasion of privacy. You are worrying about aliens watching your undoubtedly bizarre love-making rituals.”
Beny’s face grew red with fury. “That remark is uncalled for! Just because you Serpians are forced to take a vow of celibacy—”
“That is irrelevant. Tell me, if the dog had not been in your bedchamber last night watching you and Eulio disporting yourselves, would you be this upset? Would you not simply have waited until morning and written a letter of gentle, diplomatic complaint?”
“Damn you, Von!” Beny stared at the Serpian. Thar-von had never talked to him like this. When he thought he could trust his voice again, he went on. “It’s more than that. We have diplomatic immunity. Our apartments are supposed to be a little piece of Merculian in the wasteland of Abulon. It is our laws that should apply here. That’s what makes what they have done so serious.”
“Please remember that these people are not used to dealing with I.P.A. member states. They do not know the ins and outs of intergalactic law. They are simply trying to protect important visitors from harm.”
Beny ran his fingers through his thick curls and looked at the ceiling. His hands were shaking. Thar-von studied him. After a minute’s silence, he got up and came over to sit beside him. “Are you on stimulants?”
Beny nodded numbly.
“Can I get you something to drink? I know you always get thirsty when you’re on those things.”
“You’re not my servant, Thar-von. I can get whatever I need myself.” He sniffed miserably. “What do you suggest we do?”
“I don’t think we should make a major issue of this.”
Beny wiped his eyes. “We have to make an official complaint of some sort, Von. But I agree. No big commotion. What about a letter to the Chief explaining that we appreciate the good points of the system but would have preferred to have been informed.”
“That sounds good. But no mention of the bedroom aspect, I think.”
Beny nodded. “All right. And tell him we’re disconnecting the video transmitters.”
Thar-von rose to his feet. “I will draw up the document and bring it in for your approval and signature in the morning.” He bowed and withdrew. Beny sat staring at the door after he had gone. His whole body was vibrating with tension. It was bad enough to discover they had been spied on by aliens without feeling he had been judged and found guilty by a friend for some crime he was unaware he had committed. He twisted the material of his tunic around in his hands. This was the kind of situation that could explode into major danger. He knew that. Just as he had sensed the danger in the apparently innocent meeting of Cham and that girl in the dining hall. Look where that had led! Here he was, deserted by the one person he had counted on to be there for him on this project, the only male he had ever trusted entirely.
When he couldn’t stand it any longer, he steeled himself to face the shadowed corridor and knocked on Thar-von’s door. “I’m coming in,” he shouted.
Thar-von sat beside the darkened window drinking siva, the fiery orange Serpian liquor. He had relaxed enough to undo the top three buttons of his tunic. As Beny came in, he turned his head but didn’t get up.
“For God’s sake, what have I done to get you so mad at me? Tell me!”
“I’m sorry,” said Thar-von in a flat voice. “I don’t know what’s wrong. Maybe it’s because, for the first time, you outrank me.”
“I don’t believe that! There’s not a jealous bone in your whole body. There must be something else.”
“Talassa-ran Zox. It’s ridiculous, but I feel honor bound to spring to his defense all the time, just because he’s a Serpian. He does seem to get along well with the Abulonian men, though. I think they have discovered they share a passion for gambling.”
“It’s hard to imagine Talassa-ran having a passion for anything.”
“Well, he does. It’s the real reason he’s no longer a Raider.”
“I didn’t know he ever was one.”
“You never read the files. Anyway, I spend most of my time these days ironing out problems between Zox and your Merculian staff.”
“Our Merculian staff, you mean.”
“No matter how I try, it keeps coming out as two Serpians against all you Merculians.”
“But it’s not like that! It’s never been like that!”
“I’ve never worked so closely with you and your people before, Ben. Do you realize that five times in three days you overruled my orders?”
“So that’s it. I don’t even remember.”
“For instance, the break-in at the theater. I started an investigation, and you cancelled it, without consulting me.”
“Oh, Von, that was just a waste of time and effort. You said yourself nothing much was missing, only a few bits and pieces of hologram equipment and some other odds and ends that made no difference to the production staff and aren’t dangerous or anything. It was probably just souvenir hunters.”
“I doubt it. If you had consulted me, I would have told you my theory that the very fact of the odd choice of things to steal might prove significant. Without an investigation, we will never know.”
Beny sighed and sat down beside his friend on the recessed window seat. “Why didn’t you say something? I’m sorry. And those other times, too…I guess I forgot to check with you. Please, please tell me right away if something like this happens again. I’m new at this, too, you know.” He shook his head sadly and was silent for a moment. “Von, do you know how I feel here with you, seeing the admiration and respect in the Abulonians’ eyes when they look at you? When they look at me, its only curiosity, puzzlement, sometimes even pity. You’re athletic. You can talk about hunting and…and marathons. They don’t want to talk about music or painting and they don’t seem to have any theater in our sense of the word. If either one of us has the right to be jealous, it’s me. They feel a natural affinity with you. Now I find out they even like Zox! It hurts, Von. It really does.”
Thar-von looked at him gravely. “I didn’t realize,” he said. “They have no right to feel that way about you.” His lips quirked in a half-smile. “One of them certainly doesn’t.”
“You mean Luan, the Chief’s son?” Thar-von nodded. “He follows you about like a dog. Every time I drop into the office, he’s there, just looking at you. It must be embarrassing.”
“They say it’s good to have friends in high places.”
“If Eulio weren’t here, would you…respond to his interest?”
�
�Eulio is here.” Beny sighed. “What’s gotten into you tonight?” It occurred to him that the vow of celibacy might have a lot to do with it. Thar-von handed him the siva and he took a sip, coughed and handed it back. He looked up into his friend’s strong, gentle face. “Oh, damn, Von! Please don’t be mad at me any more!” He flung his arms around Thar-von’s waist and kissed his cheek. “Please?”
The Serpian tensed, then smiled down at him tolerantly. “Remember the first time you did that?”
“How could I forget! You threw me across the room.”
“You took some getting used to.”
“You took the trouble to try, Von. I’ll never forget how you came to my rescue that time at the Academy when those Lanserian thugs were beating me to a pulp. You looked out for me after that.”
“Ben, please. That’s ancient history.”
“Maybe. I just want you to know it’s not forgotten.”
“Understood.” Thar-von sipped thoughtfully at his drink. “I apologize for what I said about you and Eulio. I had no right to say any of that.”
“That’s all right, Von. I shouldn’t have mentioned your celibacy vow, either.”
Thar-von nodded. “I’m beginning to think I no longer support the concept of purity of the race,” he said quietly.
“I never understood it but I thought it was a basic Serpian tenet.”
“It is. There are historical reasons for it—so many cases of monstrous birth defects in the past—but nevertheless….”
“What’s changed your mind?”
“Abulonian women.” He paused and Beny could feel the sigh. “Even the female androids in this place arouse me. Perhaps I am losing my mind. Could it be as simple as that?”
“I thought Serpians don’t do that sort of thing.”
“We don’t, as a rule. The strain is telling on me, I guess.”