They’d do what they said, watch his every move, and they were likely following him now. He sure as hell couldn’t lead them back to Dr. Laas’ compound and Nella, so he turned his steps to his own small apartment in d’Enela Street.
Despite its fancy name, the street was short, with sand-scoured shops and narrow apartment blocks. Children ran unhindered in the dust, playing a ball game that Rio had never learned, which apparently involved kicking and much arguing.
A woman sat on a bench outside a fruit shop, dozing in the sun, the storm doors open and her wares brightening the dim interior with yellow, orange, and red.
“Rio,” she said delightedly when he stopped in front of her. Her artificial teeth, bright silver, flashed in a grin. “About time you got back. Where you been?”
“Kamile.” Rio bent down and kissed the woman’s timeworn cheek. “I found me a delicious lady.”
“You’ve always found you a lady. Who is it this time?”
“No one you know.” He plopped down on the bench just to annoy any following patrollers. “I really like her. If I weren’t Shareem, I’d say she’s the one.”
Kamile’s dark eyes widened with interest. “Ooh, I’ve never hear you say that before. Wait, it’s not that Serena woman again, is it? I told you she was trouble, and I was glad when she ran off. She wasn’t good for you.”
“Serena was a long time ago,” Rio said. “I’m over it.”
“Good. Who’s this woman, then?”
“She’s beautiful. Never seen anyone like her.”
“Going to ask her to be your lifemate, are you?”
Rio studied the dusty street and the rather battered walls and storm doors, and the patroller several shops down who was bad at being covert.
No one in this part of town took much trouble with the outsides of their houses, because the sandstorms would ruin everything, so why bother? Richer neighborhoods had shields over the streets to minimize the damage, but d’Enela Street wasn’t so lucky.
“I want to meet her,” Kamile said, with force.
“Maybe someday.” Rio knew that day would never come, but he was good at pretending. “Can I use your console, Kamile? I’ve got the credit.”
“What’s wrong with your own console?”
“It’s acting funny,” Rio lied. “Can’t see for static. Have to get it fixed.”
“Go ahead then. Have a peach, on me.” She chuckled, silver teeth winking.
“Thanks.” He set down his packages, asking her to look after them, and ducked into the dim interior.
The shop smelled like bright fruit—Kamile stocked all kinds, from prosaic apples to zoolberries, which were only grown in one tiny area of Bor Narga. She also stocked illegal fruit like the inigo, which simulated after-sex euphoria.
Where she got them all, Rio didn’t know, but people came here from all parts of the planet to buy Kamile’s fruit. She made enough money that she could have opened a store in a wealthier part of the city, but she didn’t want to. Her customers wouldn’t come, she said, if she made the shop respectable. Being disreputable was part of its charm.
Kamile’s console stood in a niche in the back. Like the console at Judith’s it was a public terminal, and Rio shoved his credit slip into the slender slot in the front.
The machine sucked in his slip, and a gentle voice told him to place his call.
Rio proceeded to call every person he knew in Pas City and some out in the desert communities of Ril and Strama. He chatted to them briefly about anything that came into his head.
He knew that the patrollers would monitor these calls and check out each person in case they were his contact for a transport. He called women and men and other Shareem, everyone but Rees and Dr. Laas. That should keep things busy for a while.
In the middle of the flurry of communications, he called Aiden. “I might be late,” he said to Aiden’s beautiful image. “Give her a message.”
Aiden looked curious, but only said, “All right.”
They talked briefly, then Rio finished the rest of his calls and retrieved his credit slip, now nearly depleted.
“Thanks, Kamile.” Rio picked up his packages, kissed Kamile’s cheek again, and strolled back toward his own apartment.
“Sandstorm’s coming,” Kamile said. “Better seal yourself in.”
“You heard a report?” Baine hadn’t mentioning anything when Rio had left the compound. Baine loved weather reports, the more dire the better.
“I feel it in my bones.” Kamile heaved herself up, tottered inside, and proceeded to close all her storm doors.
“Just what I need,” Rio said, then he reached walked into his flat and sealed all his windows. Kamile’s bones were never wrong.
*** *** ***
While Nella wandered about the house, examining Dr. Laas’ strange, sensuous rooms and wishing Rio were here to explore them with her, Baine announced two things.
The first was, “Another Shareem has arrived. He says Rio sent him to see you. I put him in the mural dining room.”
“Another Shareem?”
“Yes. A level one called Aiden. Do not worry, Dr. Laas cleared him for the compound a long time ago, and he’s been sworn to secrecy concerning your identity. He is trustworthy, even if he is an acquaintance of Rio’s.”
“Rio isn’t with him?”
“No, your highness,” Baine answered. “I would have said so.”
Worried, Nella moved to the nearest lift. “Take me to the mural dining room.”
“As you wish.”
As Baine opened the doors on the appropriate level, he made another announcement, this one piped through all the halls and rooms.
“Sandstorm,” he said.
Chapter Ten
Riding Out the Storm
Nella heard and felt nothing to indicate that a sandstorm raged in the city above them, but Baine assured her it did.
“A Code 9,” he said. “Not the worst I’ve ever seen, but fairly bad. Most are Code 6—very few reach Code 7 and up. This is unusual.”
Nella walked through the softly lit halls lined with pictures of tranquil landscapes on her way to the dining room. Dr. Laas’ compound, so far underground, would know nothing of the storms. She wondered how Dr. Laas’ power was supplied, and if the sandstorm would affect it.
She had the feeling that Dr. Laas and Baine had figured all this out long ago. The compound was too orderly and too well hidden for them to have been anything but careful.
Nella entered the dining room and stopped. The mural on the wall showed a pleasant garden of trellises and climbing roses, with a fountain in its center. The picture was so sharp, the sound of the fountain so entrancing, and the slightly damp scent of roses so real that Nella thought she could walk right through the wall and find herself in the garden itself.
But however lovely the mural, it was not what had made her pull up. A Shareem rose from a chair when she entered, one so incredibly handsome that she could only stare in shock.
His hair was blond, like Rees’, but a lighter shade. He wore a sleeveless tunic and sandals, again like Rees, though he was a few inches shorter. His brawny arms sported Shareem muscle and a black chain.
His face was chiseled perfection. An artist sculpting the ultimate in male beauty could use this man as a model, but the result would never match his natural handsomeness.
The Shareem smiled at her, making him even more seductively beautiful. “I was face sculpted,” he explained, smiling at her scrutiny. “The epitome of genetic art.” He extended his hand. “Rio sent me. I’m Aiden.”
Nella politely put her hand in his, then backed away when she felt Shareem pheromones flood her. She had the sudden urge to tear off her clothes and beg this man to touch her all over, but she was very aware that he’d put the urge into her head.
With Rio, she felt more like she begged him because she wanted to. Perhaps that meant Rio was a more practiced Shareem.
But maybe . . .
Nella felt it, tenuous and
weblike, the pull to Rio.
No.
Something joyful inside her responded, Why not?
“Where is Rio? Is he here?”
Nella knew he wasn’t. The entire complex felt different when Rio was in it.
“He said he had some errands and that he’d meet me here,” Aiden said.
“Oh.” Nella chewed her lip and pressed the brief sensation away. “Perhaps the sandstorm slowed him down. It must make walking difficult.”
Aiden gave her an odd look. “Slowed him down? Have you ever seen a Bor Nargan sandstorm?”
“No.”
Aiden glanced upward. “Baine, show what’s outside, will you?”
Baine emitted a computer cough. “Why? The garden is much more pleasant.”
“I know, but Nella needs to see.”
Baine sighed. “To each his own.” The computer faded out the garden scene, leaving a yellow-brown blank wall.
Nella realized after a moment, that she was not looking at a wall but at a view of the street outside, the same scene Baine had showed her earlier. Only now the street was completely obliterated by a thick brown-gold haze.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Aiden said. “No one travels in a sandstorm. We stay inside and seal the doors. I was lucky I got here before it hit.”
If she looked closely, Nella could just see the corners of buildings fading in and out under the blanket of scouring sand. She also noticed that, unlike with the garden or other scenes, Baine had not added sound, scent, or feeling to this image.
“How can anyone breathe out there?” Nella asked.
Aiden came up behind her, his warmth touching her like a blanket. “No one can. That’s why we carry breath masks. No one told you when you arrived?”
Nella shook her head. “I saw that everyone carried one, but I didn’t know why. Was Rio caught in it, do you think?”
“Rio’s smart enough to stay out of a sandstorm. Wherever he was, he ducked inside and is sitting tight, waiting for it to subside.”
“I hope so.”
“I know so. Shareem have lived through Bor Nargan sandstorms for decades, and none of us have been lost in them.”
She relaxed a little. “That’s good.”
“Put back the garden, Baine,” Aiden said. “We’ve had enough of this depressing view.”
“I thought you’d never ask,” Baine said.
Instantly, the mural transformed to the garden scene. Nella drew a breath of relief, inhaling the scent of sweet roses and the green odor of earth.
Aiden put his hands on Nella’s shoulders, warmth radiating from his palms. She sensed his pheromones spilling over her again.
“I’m Rio’s,” she said quickly.
“I know. He told me to give you a message.”
She turned, unnerved when Aiden didn’t back away. His chest and shoulders were every bit as broad as Rio’s, his blue eyes just as unnerving. “What message?”
Aiden smiled. “Two words. Trust me.”
Nella thought of Rio’s “lessons” in trust, and wondered what he meant to do now. A little shiver began at the bottom of her spine.
“I also brought something for you.” Aiden turned away, lifted a metal box from the floor, and set in on the flat surface of the table. He opened it to reveal a cloth-lined interior in which rested two rows of varicolored bottles.
Nella moved to the table, curious in spite of herself. “What are they?”
“Scented oils. We’ll go through them, and you’ll choose the one you like. Or more than one, whatever you want.”
Nella looked them over, intrigued. While she sometimes wore light perfume on Ariel, she’d never allowed herself anything as exotic as scented oil. Oil was meant to glide over the skin under trained fingers . . .
She had the sudden vision of this man oiling her from head to foot while Rio watched nearby, a wicked look in his dark blue eyes.
Nella swallowed. “Rio wanted me to have this?”
Aiden’s perfect eyes crinkled with his smile. “Don’t be afraid, Nella. It’s just oil.”
Nella sat down at the table. Aiden plucked the first bottle from the slot, worked out its airtight seal, and handed it to her.
“What’s this one?” she asked, taking it.
“Rose and tulawood. I think you’ll like it.”
Its scent, not too strong, hinted of the roses in the garden behind her, laced with the smoky smell of wood. As Nella slowly inhaled, a feeling of well-being and peace stole over her.
Mystified, she resealed the bottle, set it aside, and reached for the next one.
The next oil gave off the sharp smell of crushed herbs laced with lavender. Nella felt suddenly energetic, as though she wanted to throw Aiden to the floor so she could jump on him.
Letting out a shaky breath, she quickly sealed it. “They’re stirring up my pheromones, aren’t they?”
“Yes.” He lifted the herb one she’d set down and looked at it reverently. “I make up the formulas and have them created to order.”
“By Dr. Laas?” Nella asked.
“Who else? There’s nothing that woman doesn’t know about sensuality and biochemistry.”
“She’s an unusual woman,” Nella said.
Aiden winked. “We like her. Try this one.”
The third oil smelled of warm spice, amber, and patchouli, a dark scent that reminded her of Rio.
At the thought of Rio, her opening became slick and hot. Dreamily, she put her fingers between her legs and pressed.
“You like that one,” Aiden said softly.
Nella wriggled against her fingers, and then, incredibly, she started to come. It was not the over-the-top, screaming sensation she’d had with Rio, but a wicked, warm feeling.
“I’d say you definitely like that one.” Aiden took the bottle from her and resealed it. She saw that his eyes had gone fully blue, and he grinned. “Never be embarrassed in front of Shareem, sweetheart. That’s what we’re for, you know, to teach that sexuality is a wonderful thing.”
“Rees said something like that.”
“And he’s right. Men and women were meant to have sex with each other. It’s part of creation—or at least, it was until we made creation all about genetic manipulation. Kind of ironic, isn’t it, that Shareem, the ultimate genetic experiments, only want to show that creation the old-fashioned way is a good thing?”
Nella listened to him in a kind of daze, not quite recovered from the last bottle of scent. “I never thought of it that way.”
“Joining is a glorious thing. Satisfying your partner is most glorious of all. And Shareem live to satisfy. We’re not happy—I mean, really not happy—if we don’t give pleasure.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“It’s programmed into us. We can’t go against our instincts.”
“We have something similar on Ariel,” Nella said, finding herself relaxed. “It’s called the Bond.”
Aiden looked interested. “The Bond?”
“It’s like falling in love, only more so. It’s more than sex—it’s a complete joining of man and woman.” Nella laced her fingers to illustrate. “No one is certain if it’s a chemical thing, or psychic, or who knows? Maybe even magic. We only know that when we feel it, we act on it. Most people find a Bond-mate only once in their lives. Some give up and marry non-Bond-mates, but that can be bad if either partner finds their true Bond-mate. So most people wait for it.”
“Have you found your Bond-mate?” Aiden asked, watching her.
Nella hesitated before she shook her head. “Not yet.”
“And what happens when you find him?” Aiden asked.
“I ask him to mate with me, and then we marry. If he wishes to acknowledge the Bond, that is.”
Aiden toyed with the stopper on the next bottle. “Is it always man-woman? Could your Bond-mate be another woman?”
“Oh, yes. We have male-male and female-female couples on Ariel, although it’s not as common. And interspecies too. Ariel has twelve diff
erent sentient beings, and the Bond does not confine itself to one. Scientists think that the Bond evolved early in our ancestry to encourage genetic diversity.”
Aiden grinned. “Ever notice how scientists like to make sex so cold and clinical?”
“Except Dr. Laas,” Nella said.
“Except Dr. Laas and her sidekick, Dr. Ralston.”
They shared a smile, like they were old friends.
Trust me, was Rio’s message.
“Did Rio tell you to make me open up to you?” she asked.
Aiden shook his head. “No. He only told me to come here and let you pick out the oil you want. What he actually said was, Just give her the oil and don’t touch her until I get there.”
Nella wanted to laugh. That sounded like Rio all right. “Was there a danger that you’d touch me?”
Aiden’s smile vanished, and Nella realized how very alone she was with this man. Baine hovered in the background as always, but she wondered how much he’d interfere if Aiden tried to seduce her.
“Let me put it this way,” Aiden said, leaning to her. “If I didn’t know you were Rio’s, I’d have had you on the table by now, with my hands all over you, spreading oil on your pretty body. And soon after that, I’d have your pussy lubed and I’d slide right into you.”
Sexuality oozed from him, filling the room. Nella had no doubt her own pheromones filled it as well, feeding his hunger.
Then he straightened, and the temperature dropped a degree or two. “But for now you’re Rio’s. Question is, do you want to be?”
Aiden’s eyes were shrewd. He knew Rio far better than Nella did, and he seemed to know what the situation was here.
“I like Rio,” Nella said. “But it’s only temporary. He knows that.”
“Not very romantic of you.”
“I mean he wouldn’t want it to be more than temporary. Why would he?” She lifted her hands in a resigned gesture. “I’ll go home, and that will be that.”
“You make it sound easy.”
“Isn’t it? Every Shareem I’ve met—you, Rio, Rees—has told me they’re all about pleasure. Well, sometimes the pleasure has to end.”
Aiden feigned shock. “Gods, no.”
“I mean, we don’t have a choice. We have to face things that have nothing to do with pleasure. We don’t want to, but we find we have no choice.”
Tales of the Shareem, Volume 1 Page 28