But what if she—what was her name? Celeste?—wasn’t really in love with him? What if she only wanted his money or the joy she knew a Zetithian man could give her? Larry was counting on Althea to give him an honest assessment of the woman’s motives.
I could lie.
“No,” she muttered. “I couldn’t do that.” She might be able to lie to some people, but Larry wasn’t one of them. Suddenly, even her double jalapeño cheeseburger had lost its appeal. “Crap-ola.”
“Was that a request?” the computer asked.
“Nope.” Althea somehow managed to drop the remaining portion of her hamburger onto the plate without splattering cheese everywhere, which wouldn’t have been the case if she’d followed her initial urge and thrown it against the wall. “I was only cursing my foul luck.”
“Luck is an intangible.” The computer’s tone was brisk and efficient. “I can’t help you with intangibles.”
“Didn’t think you could.”
“I’ll let you know if that changes.”
Althea peered cautiously upward at the blinking sensor on the ceiling. “Is there a possibility of that?”
“Indeed there is. Shall I quote the odds for you?”
She shook her head. “No. I’d rather not hear them. But thanks for the offer.” Most computers wouldn’t have bothered to ask. She was actually starting to like this one. “Do you have a name?”
“I am called Friday,” the computer replied.
No doubt there was some significance to that name, but for the moment, the memory escaped her. “Friday… That name rings a bell, but—”
“The reference you are attempting to recall is the movie His Girl Friday, first released in the Earth year 1940 and starring Cary Grant and Rosalind Russell.”
“Ah. That’s it.” Given Jack’s penchant for old Earth culture, the film was sure to have been somewhere in the Jolly Roger’s vast database. “Is it in your database?”
“Yes, it is.”
Clearly, Larry’s mother had taken a hand in programming the computer system on the Stooge, although he might have had some say in the matter. All the children raised on the Jolly Roger had grown up watching old movies and television shows, and flying through space for weeks on end provided ample time to binge-watch anything they chose.
Then it occurred to her that old movies probably weren’t the only information Friday had stashed away. “Tell me, Friday, has Celeste ever been aboard this ship?”
“Yes, she has.”
“So you’ve seen her, then?”
“I have. Would you like to see a holographic image of her?”
Althea shrugged. “Sure. Why not?” She’d been more interested in the woman’s character and behavior, but an image was as good a place to start as any.
Seconds later, a life-size image of a curvy blond Terran materialized in the corner of the galley. Althea got up from the table and walked around the hologram, studying the woman from every angle. If she had a flaw, Althea couldn’t see it. “Holy cow. She’s absolutely beautiful.”
“I believe she would be considered as such,” Friday acknowledged.
“Never realized Larry was into blonds, though.”
“Of the women for whom he has shown an interest, fully sixty percent have had blond hair.”
“And how long has he been flying around in this ship?”
“Three point seven years.”
“Hmm… How many women—”
“Ten, including Ms. Celeste Nunn.”
A giggle bubbled up from Althea’s chest. “Nunn, huh? How does she feel about taking the name Tshevnoe after growing up with a nice, short name like that?”
“I do not have access to that information.”
“Didn’t figure you did. Never saw her scribbling the name on paper to try out the signature?”
“No.”
“Celeste Tshevnoe… Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”
“If you say so,” Friday replied.
“Celestina Tshevnoe would sound even better. More cadenced.”
“I believe it would. But perhaps your stay among the Baradans has affected your ear for such things. Their voices are said to be very musical and pleasing.” Friday sounded cautiously tactful, which was yet another feature not normally encountered in an onboard computer—a highly observant onboard computer.
She might even catch me staring at Larry’s neck.
“You’re probably right.” Althea glanced at the smiling woman with the perfect white teeth, lustrous blond tresses, and deep-green eyes and felt the sudden urge to throw a rotten tomato at her. “Okay, Friday. You can turn off that hologram now. I believe I get the general idea.”
Chapter 6
Larry had never admitted to Althea’s family that he knew where she was. He’d only said he suspected he knew where she’d gone. They’d been satisfied with that, but he knew they would appreciate an update.
Deep space communications being his particular talent, he knew he could get a message through easily enough. The problem was what to say. Perhaps they’d prefer a video message—maybe even from Althea herself. She had no real reason not to speak with them. She hadn’t gone off in a huff when she left. Her departure was more of a respite or a sabbatical from the empathic bombardment of other people’s feelings than a rebellious daughter cutting ties with her parents.
Larry wished he’d confided in her parents more fully. That way they wouldn’t have had any reason to worry about her. Barada Seven was among the most peaceful planets in the galaxy. He could’ve at least told them she was there.
Too late for that now.
He still hadn’t come to terms with the hot Zetithian ass comment, although it was interesting that she didn’t remark when he’d referred to her backside in that manner. To the best of his recollection, he’d never made any observations about her appearance whatsoever. She’d always been beautiful, even as a child. Everyone knew that. Telling her was completely unnecessary. Her parents might have mentioned how pretty she was, and she’d certainly drawn plenty of appreciative glances from the guys hanging out in spaceports. Picking up on their emotions must’ve been bad enough, and while she appeared to ignore most of the stares, anyone who had the audacity to say anything out loud received an icy glare in return.
Larry was glad he didn’t have powers like the Mordrials. His own thoughts were more than enough to occupy his mind. He didn’t need to know anyone else’s—with the possible exception of Celeste. Every girl he’d tried to date had some preconceived notions about Zetithians, and they’d never bothered to keep those feelings secret. Until Celeste. She’d always been something of a riddle. She seemed honest and genuine, but that was the part that made him question her sincerity. Which, of course, made no sense whatsoever.
As much as Al had missed out on by growing up without any sisters, Larry had the same problem. His mother wasn’t a typical female by anyone’s standards. Althea and her mother were the only other examples, and neither of them were what you’d call typical, either.
With a sigh, he left the pilot’s console for the communications station, although he had absolutely no idea what he was going to say.
Better clear it with Al first.
He tapped the intercom. “Hey, Al. I’m thinking we ought to let your folks know where you are. Do you want to talk to them?”
She was silent for a long moment before she replied. “Yeah. I probably should. They’re probably pissed enough at me as it is.”
“I doubt that. But the message might be better coming from you. You’ve got your choice of live audio or recorded video. Can’t do live audio and video this far out.”
“That’s just as well. I’m not sure I could face them and still be able to explain why I left without falling apart completely. I think a recording would be best. Be there in a minute.”
Bra
k rose from the navigation console. “If I am not needed, I shall retire to my quarters.”
Larry nodded, but he wasn’t fooled. With Althea back on the bridge and an unattended stasis unit full of hamburgers, he would probably stop off in the galley first.
With a flutter of his wings, Brak left the bridge. Larry set up the deep space comlink for a video recording, glancing up as Althea returned.
She really was beautiful, possessing the same dark hair and exotic green eyes as her mother, but with a feline twist. Slender rather than voluptuous, she’d always dressed in a very simple manner, as though unwilling to draw attention to herself. Celeste, on the other hand, had a tendency to dress more provocatively. He’d never seen Al show as much skin as she had when he found her in the Baradan jungle. She was dressed more modestly now, wearing a loose-fitting sleeveless top and a pair of palazzo pants she’d bought when they’d stopped off in Jaipur several years ago. Her mother had tried on several saris while they were there, the dazzling fabrics suiting Tisana far better than her daughter. Al, who would’ve looked gorgeous in anything, had never shown much of a flair for fashion.
Even so, four years in the jungle had left her tanned and fit. She moved with the same grace as always. Not precisely alluring, more like a natural poise.
“You ready for this?” he asked.
She sucked in a breath. “Ready as I’ll ever be. I’ve thought about what I would say, and all I could ever come up with was that if I’d at least said goodbye, this would be so much easier.”
“You don’t think they would’ve tried to talk you into staying?”
“That’s what I told myself at the time, although they probably wouldn’t have stopped me. Mom knew I was having problems, and she probably even knew that going away was the best thing for me.” She shrugged. “That’s hindsight for you.”
“Would you rather do this alone?”
She shook her head. “No. You can stay. I owe you the same apology.”
Nevertheless, Larry moved out of her line of sight and withdrew to a respectful distance. He let her talk, doing his best to ignore his own roiling emotions. That he’d missed her was a given. He’d just never realized how much.
She started off well enough, but through the halting speech and apparent loss for words, he could see how much it cost her. Tears were running down her cheeks by the time she’d finished recording her heart-wrenching message.
He waited until she hit the send button before taking a step toward her. “Aw, Al, don’t cry.” Although he’d witnessed a variety of her emotions over the years, he’d never seen her cry, and her tears shocked him a little. She’d always been so tough, rarely allowing her more tender side to show. She might not be able to block out the feelings of others, but she did seem to know how to put a lid on her own. “I’m sure they’ll understand.”
“I hope so.” She rose from the comstation, wiping the tears from her eyes. “I never meant to hurt anyone. I just couldn’t stand it anymore. The constant din wore me down until I was completely exhausted.”
Tisana wasn’t the only one who knew Al was having trouble coping. Larry had seen it too, which was why he’d put that tracking beacon in her duffel bag. At the time, that was about the only thing he could do to help her. The need to comfort her now was so powerful, he wasn’t sure how it happened, but suddenly, she was in his arms. He was holding her close, stroking her hair, and patting her back. Pressing his lips to the top of her head.
And purring.
That response was so automatic, he couldn’t even pinpoint when it began. The ramifications hit him with the force of a rogue comet. Zetithian men purred for one reason and one reason only. To entice females. Zetithian females.
Females of other species probably thought purring was cool, but the response in a Zetithian was as much physiological as it was mental. He’d always managed to avoid purring in the past. This time, he’d simply had no choice, no control whatsoever. His intention might have only been to comfort her, but that certainly wasn’t how it turned out.
Mother of the gods. I am so screwed.
Then again, Al wasn’t a purebred Zetithian. She had Terran and Mordrial blood mixed in. Purring might not affect her like it should.
No need to chance it.
He held his breath, released her, and took a step back. “Um, better now?” The purr remaining in his voice made him wince.
“Yeah. Thanks.” With her head still lowered, she turned away, sweeping her hair back behind her ears. “I think I’ll go lie down for a while. That took more out of me than I expected.”
“Sure, Al. Whatever you want.”
Afraid to detect any change in her scent, he held his breath until she left the bridge. When a swift inhale drew in her aroma, he detected no hint of yearning. Only sadness and regret.
For a moment, he felt relieved. Then disappointment crept in.
That was ridiculous. He shouldn’t be disappointed. If anything, he should be glad she hadn’t responded with desire. One girlfriend at a time was enough. Nobody needed two.
The silence folded in around him. The hum of the engines was barely audible as stars swept past the main viewscreen. Not for the first time, he felt alone, and not just on the bridge of his ship, but in the entire universe. Isolated. The only living soul amid the inconceivable vastness of space.
Such isolation wasn’t normal. Like most other sentient beings, Zetithians thrived on social interaction. Humans were no different, and yet his mother had spent six years in space searching for her sister, alone on a starship traveling hundreds of light-years from one world to the next. How had she done it without going mad? He smiled to himself, thinking that there were those who would insist that she truly had lost her mind somewhere along the way.
Then she’d found his father, and her life had been transformed in a manner no one ever could have predicted. Would that kind of change happen to him? Or had it happened already?
With a sigh, he returned to his station and pulled up the schematics for the comsystem the Palorkan wanted him to upgrade. Several hours passed before he took note of the time. One nice thing about traveling in a Delfian-modified starship: there weren’t many distractions, mechanical or otherwise.
Until his personal comlink played his mother’s ringtone, a highly appropriate old Earth tune called “Why Haven’t I Heard from You?”
Due to the distance and the number of relays it must’ve gone through, there was a slight lag in the transmission, but Jack’s voice came through as clear as a bell. “So…you found her,” she said. “Good work.”
“Thanks. I take it you saw the video we sent?”
“Of course I did,” Jack snapped. “You don’t think anything happens on my ship that I don’t know about, do you?”
“Probably not.” Actually, Larry could think of several things he and his brothers had done that he was fairly certain she’d never gotten wind of, but those escapades were far outnumbered by the times she’d known precisely what they were up to. When he was little, he’d suspected her of having eyes in the back of her head. It wasn’t until he was older that he realized she’d been relying on the ship’s computer for much of her information, but even that didn’t explain everything.
“Tisana and Leo are so relieved,” she said. “Honestly, not a word in four years? They’re working on a reply, which you should receive soon. They’re certainly more forgiving than I would’ve been.”
“Aw, Mom. You know that isn’t true.”
She snorted. “Good thing that was a recorded message, or I would’ve given Althea a big, honking piece of my mind. Listen, bucko, if you ever go four years without calling your mother, I’m coming after you with one helluva switch.”
“Sure you would.” His mother had threatened him with all manner of dire consequences throughout his youth and had never followed through with any of them, except restricting his access to t
he communications console, which was probably the most severe punishment she could think of for a guy who’d spent most of his life tinkering with comsystems.
“Speaking of which, it’s been over a month since we last heard from you. Kinda pushing it, aren’t you?”
“Been busy, I guess.”
“Not so busy you couldn’t call me once a week,” she countered. “Trust me, I know what it’s like to fly around on a starship for years with only yourself for company. Most of the time it’s boring as hell.”
His nape prickled at her uncanny ability to know what he’d been thinking. He’d always assumed he took after his father. Now he wasn’t so sure. Were he and Jack really that much alike?
“I’m not alone and never have been,” he insisted. “Brak’s been with me from the very beginning.”
“If you can call that big bug company. Thank God you didn’t team up with a Norludian.”
He cleared his throat. “I thought you were over that aversion.”
“Nah. Probably never will be. They still make me gag every time I see one.”
Deeming a change of subject to be prudent, he said, “So where are you now?”
“Making a run to Darconia,” she replied. “Probably Rhylos after that, which I assume is where you’re headed, right?”
“Yeah. Might take us a little while though. We have another stop to make.” Knowing how she felt about Palorka, he opted not to tell her where that stop was.
“Sounds good. Guess we’ll see you when we see you.” She hesitated. “Ship behaving itself?”
“Running fine,” he replied.
“It better be,” she growled. “If not, I’ll have that mechanic’s head on a platter.”
“Not necessary,” he assured her. “Everything is working exactly as it should.”
“Well then…take good care of Althea, and call me if you need me.”
“Will do. Love you, Mom.”
“Back at ya, bucko. Stay safe.”
“You too.” Larry tapped the screen, breaking the link.
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