"Clean enough."
Steve did her best to get into a comfortable position in spite of her costume. Removing her jacket, shoes, and glasses helped. Falcon eased himself down, sitting Indian fashion in front of her. She glanced at the luminous digits on her watch. "We cut that awfully close. It's almost five now." She did not realize her whisper had gotten louder until Falcon placed his palm over her mouth.
I believe we should refrain from conversing, she heard him state in his normal, resonant voice.
"Shh-sh," Steve hissed back. "Your voice carries a lot further than my whisper!"
But I was not speaking.
Again his voice echoed through her, and she responded to his soundless order by placing her palm over his mouth.
Only you can hear me, Steve.
She kept her hand on his face. His lips had not moved. There had been no vibration against her palm as she heard his words.
Please, relax. Remember, I feel everything you do. Your fear is quite uncomfortable for both of us, and you know it is unnecessary. I discovered another talent this morning. I have always been able to feed my thoughts directly to a trained mind, such as most adult Noronians possess, but I do not believe you have that training. Since you are the first untrained person I have been able to do this with, I have no way of knowing if it will be so with any individual or if our sexual sharing has made a difference. That was a very nice emotion you just had. I assume my making reference to our intimacy caused that. Yes, I feel that, too.
Steve did not need to be hushed as she removed her hand from over his mouth. She was totally speechless. The fact that he had picked up on her emotional state so easily had been confusing at first, but how did he get in her head? Could he read her mind now? She was afraid to hear the answer, so she refrained from asking aloud.
Steve, I would appreciate your assistance with an experiment. I wish to know if you have any telepathic powers that would explain how you can hear my thoughts so clearly. She nodded, knowing he could see the movement. Thank you. I told you there were a few times I picked up a word or two of your thoughts when you were excessively emotional. For the moment, try to think of something passive, perhaps a mathematical table. Now, in your mind, say it as if you were talking to me aloud.
She did. "Well?" she whispered close to his ear.
Nothing. It would have been quite nice if we could have conversed in that manner.
Again she leaned close. "You mean you can't read my thoughts unless I'm all worked up?"
Basically, that seems to be the case. Unless I touch your mind, as you already know. I suggest, for the remaining hours we are in here, if you need to speak, place my fingers on your temple and think your words directly to me. I assure you I would, not invade your privacy by probing further. He placed his hand in hers.
Steve tried to adjust to the idea of communicating without voices. She was relieved that he could not read her every thought, and, when she was emotional, he usually knew what she was thinking anyway. He would abide by his promise to allow her her privacy. She pressed his fingers to her temple. It could be an interesting way to pass the time.
Like this?
Yes. I hear you. There is a lot going on in your mind, however. If you work at concentrating on a specific word at a time, it would be easier for me to disregard all others.
She removed his hand so she could plan what she wanted to say, then tried again. We lucked out on the surveillance system they're using.
That is somewhat better.
There's only one monitor with keyboard control. The guard doesn't have to make rounds of the floors. Instead, whenever he's due to patrol, he just runs through his list of cameras. The odds are with us, but when we move, well have to do it fast and be sure to keep your head down. I didn't see any evidence of cameras when we were here before, but they're around. Also, no elevator. He would be aware of it instantly. Since the stairs are only two feet away, and out of the guard's line of vision, we should manage fine, if the door doesn't creak. Hey, this is fun!
That is because you are not the one trying to sort out all the words you are thinking at lightning speed. Perhaps you would oblige me by limiting yourself to one sentence at a time.
Steve started to reply and realized he had withdrawn his hand. The sliver of light was not sufficient to see where it was. But she could see his eyes, and from them, she found his shoulder with her hand and followed his arm downward. She felt the muscle in his upper arm tense as she made her way to his elbow. That joint was bent at his hip, and her nails glided along his strong forearm.
He was not very good at hide-and-seek. She knew exactly where to find his hand and refused to play his game that easily. A tug on his wrist made no difference. If she wanted his hand, she had to get it his way. She felt her way along the back of his hand and gingerly tried to grasp one of his fingers without brushing against the part of his anatomy it was resting over.
Falcon smiled, knowing she could not see him. He had never completely understood the playful teasing his human friends enjoyed so much. In the last twenty-four hours, he had not only learned how delightful being teased felt, he discovered a whole new meaning for the word "play."
When he resisted again, she decided to change tactics. Pressing her hand against his, she molded his fingers over his rigid flesh. Once she ascertained his condition, she scraped her fingernails down the swollen muscle, knowing only the thin material of his slacks protected him. He flinched, and she quickly grabbed his fingers and pulled them to her face.
Behave yourself!
Why?
I said if someone caught us in a closet, we could let them think we were having a rendezvous. I did not say we had to be doing anything to be convincing. I have no intention of being caught with my pants down, literally, just because you haven't yet learned to control your new horns.
I am not familiar with that expression, but I think I comprehend your meaning. May I continue my experiment? It will not involve touching you physically.
Steve knew he would not say that if he did not mean it. Okay.
Remember, no talking, only thinking. He pushed himself a few inches further back.
She sat a little impatiently, waiting to learn about this next experiment. He kissed her softly on the nose. Her hand automatically went to the spot, while her gaze darted to his eyes. He had not moved. His mouth brushed hers, and still his eyes were several feet away from her. How was he doing that? His lips touched hers again and stayed.
The feeling was real and familiar, and yet her reasoning denied the reality. When his tongue dipped into her mouth and softly scraped the roof of her mouth, Steve had to stifle a squeal. She now understood his "experiment" involved toying with her senses on a mental level of some kind, and decided to keep her eyes locked on his to remind herself he was not truly making any physical contact.
Then why could she feel his hands cupping her breasts beneath her blouse? Repeatedly, he rolled the pebbled tips until they were sensitized beyond belief.
Stop it! Please. You're driving me nuts.
Falcon heard her clearly. He was right. When her emotions, particularly her passions, were aroused, he could read her without touching her. He could stop the experiment now, but he wanted to confirm another suspicion while she was cooperating... more or less. Had he actually invaded her dream the other night? Could he please her just because it was what he desired to do?
Close your eyes, Steve. And let go. Trust me.
His fingers were between her thighs, stroking and kneading her. Trust? With her body or her mind? She gave up the brief struggle and closed her eyes.
Falcon, beautiful Falcon. Standing proudly before her in all his naked splendor. Briefly, she wondered how her own clothes had mysteriously vanished and how she had come to be lying on silken sheets. She lifted her hand to caress the loving shaft he offered and continued to stroke him as he positioned himself over her.
Steve gasped when he plunged completely into her with one powerful drive. He was too ex
cited to go slowly. But suddenly so was she. It was not enough to simply arch into his every thrust, she felt compelled to ram herself mercilessly against him. Her explosive climax hit without warning. She felt as if her entire body had been inserted in an electrical socket and jerked back out again,
Falcon kissed her lips and she raised her lashes. This was real. He was holding her tightly, with two fingers pressed to her temple, and... chuckling! Steve felt the rumble in his chest and gave him a punch on his shoulder. That was not funny! She could feel him working at suppressing his laughter.
The experiment was a success, in case you are interested. I can indeed read your thoughts when you are in a highly emotional state. Unfortunately, you tend to become incoherent beyond a certain point. Have I ever told you how much I like the way you smell? He inhaled deeply.
She punched his shoulder again. You are developing a strange sense of humor. Let's see how funny you think this is. She wriggled out of his arms and ran a hand over the closure of his pants. A small tug at his waist and the zipperless opening gave way.
When her fingers encircled his aching manhood, Falcon discovered just how hard it could be to form a coherent thought. You said... what if someone... found... Her mouth came down on him and the thought was lost. Drek! What was she doing with her teeth? He found her temple and pressed.
What I am doing, and what I am going to do, is just a little experiment of my own. I want to see if I can drive you out of that gifted mind of yours. And, by the way, I said I had no intention of being caught with my pants down. Yours are a different matter entirely. Relax, Falcon. Close your eyes. Trust me.
He complied with her second and third commands. The first was utterly impossible for the duration of the extraordinary, purely physical experiment she proceeded to conduct. When he could think clearly again, he decided teasing and playing were two more of the positive aspects of being human.
The next five hours passed quickly, with Falcon doing most of the think-talking. Once Steve started asking questions about Innerworld, Norona, and his home planet, her curiosity got the best of her. The more he told her, the more she wanted to know. After all, she would never see these places for herself.
In her briefcase, she had packed sandwiches and sodas, which came in handy, and a deck of cards, which did not. Steve was beginning to wish she had packed a porta-potty as well. After they got upstairs there would be lavatories they could use, but she warned Falcon not to flush. The plumbing system would also be hooked up to the guard's computer.
During their wait, they had propped a stepstool against the doorknob to prevent any surprise visits, but so far, no one had shown any interest in the storage room. Assuming there was a nightly cleaning crew, Steve was banking on their starting time being close to midnight, as it was in the building where her offices were located. Eleven o'clock was chosen as the best time to move. The last employee should be gone, the cleaners should not be on-site yet, and the guard, if any, should be involved in whatever he did to occupy the long boring hours of the night. Steve's hope was his favorite pastime was sleeping.
At eleven, they gathered their belongings and cracked open the door an inch. All clear. As quickly and quietly as possible, they moved into the stairwell. Thank God, the door barely made a whisper of noise, but it was pitch black. Falcon held onto Steve's arm to lead her. After the first two flights, she memorized how high each stair was, how many there were before a landing, and how many steps she had to take to the next flight. After that, they climbed the many flights to the tenth floor at a rapid pace.
A few ceiling fixtures lit the hallway of the executive floor sufficiently for the guard to be able to see them if he happened to switch to.that view. There was no camera in evidence, but Steve knew it was there. She sent up a little prayer and took off at a run for Underwood's office with Falcon right behind her.
There were no lights in Miss Preston's office, but there was no reason to fear turning on a flashlight now. Also, Underwood's wall of glass let in plenty of moonlight and reflections from the street lamps.
Falcon sat down at the secretary's desk and went right to work. Steve was still breathing a little harshly from the run upstairs and sat on another chair to watch him. Once again, it was the telephone that held his rapt attention. After a moment he found a pad and pen, scribbled several numbers, and handed the paper to Steve.
"Miss Preston placed calls to these four numbers in the last twenty-four hours. It is all I can pick up from here. I will try the other office."
Steve studied the numbers. Three were local exchanges. Her intuition told her to forget about anything close by leading them to Underwood. The fourth call was to area code 907. Using her flashlight as a guide, she located a phone book on the credenza behind the desk, and looked up the area-code map. Alaska. Damn. One area code for the entire, enormous state, and it didn't really mean the number had any connection with Underwood's present location.
"Steve?" Falcon called from the other office. She was at his side in seconds. "I have seen something that we might be able to use. Miss Preston placed a small notebook in this safe before she left today. It is very important to her. I believe we should look at it."
"Are you telling me you're a safecracker, too?" Steve shook her head, knowing anything was possible with this man.
"I do not know. But I was able to manipulate the small gears in the machine in Las Vegas. This must be similar."
"You made me hit the jackpot? Of course you did. Why should I be surprised to hear that? So go ahead. Show off."
Falcon inspected the numbered dial on the outside of the safe, ran his hands over the outside, and smiled. "I cannot see through the metal to the gears, but Miss Preston cooperated unintentionally. I can see how she opened it to place the book inside." With no effort, Falcon opened the safe, removed the notebook he had envisioned, and handed it to Steve.
She opened the cover and smiled. "Bingo! This is the index of the files in the computer and all the access codes." She quickly scanned the pages looking for a heading that would ring some kind of bell. There it was: "Real Estate Acquisitions" with a long list of subheadings. Steve's gaze halted on "Personal."
"I think this is it." Quickly, she returned to Miss Preston's desk and shined her light on the computer keyboard.
"Do you need assistance?" Falcon asked as he joined her.
She found the power switches, and the area around her glowed from the light of the monitor. "I don't think so. The instructions in the book were written for a novice to follow, and I'm a little better than that."
The main menu for the file came up on the screen. It consisted of a list of states, commencing with Alaska, and continued in alphabetical order with the exception of Alabama. Apparently that state held no interest for Gordon Underwood.
Hoping the Alaskan telephone number was a legitimate lead, Steve punched in the code to call up the Alaska file. Only one description of the location appeared with details of the purchase following it.
"Look at this, Falcon. Underwood bought this huge parcel of real estate near Fairbanks about six months ago. Here's a list of expenses incurred after the property was purchased. Looks like a pretty fancy house for that neck of the woods. What do you think of the timing?"
Before he answered, she found the final piece of evidence needed to draw her own conclusion. The phone number was a match. Falcon saw it at the same time and gave her arm a squeeze.
"That must be it. I am filled with certainty."
"Can you zap us there right now? We've got a very detailed description to go by."
Falcon closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and made a difficult decision. "No. I explained the danger to you. We will have to rely on your traditional transportation."
"But, Falcon, this is an emergency. I feel certain, too, and my intuition is usually on target. Underwood could be sitting in that house right now. He'd have no way of anticipating our arrival so fast."
Falcon turned the swivel chair so that she was facing him and framed
her face in his hands. "There is nothing in the universe so important that I would endanger your life, Steve. I do not fear the end of my own existence, but I would do my people no good by committing suicide. Now, I believe we should depart while our good fortune continues."
Steve felt the excitement bubbling up as she ran the cursor back up to the description of the location, and quickly copied it beneath the phone number. She turned the computer off while Falcon returned the notebook to the safe.
On the hike downstairs they reviewed the plan for exiting the premises. Again, assuming a guard was at the desk in the lobby, Steve would approach him in her full business attire, and gush out an embarrassed explanation about having fallen asleep in an upstairs lounge. While the guard was distracted by Steve, Falcon would sneak up behind him, put him quietly to sleep, and make him forget he had ever seen Steve. Simplicity always worked best.
At the bottom of the stairs, Steve whispered, "Now remember, don't move until you hear me thanking him. That will be when I've convinced him to unlock the door and his back is to the lobby. If he's an old geezer, a little eyelash fluttering should hold him long enough for you to move."
They slipped through the doorway into the alcove. Falcon touched Steve's temple. There is a man out there, but something is wrong. He is highly agitated, anxious.
Maybe he's just a nervous Nelly. That might help me run this bluff. Here goes. Steve stepped away from Falcon, but not before she heard him tell her to be careful.
The moment she stepped into the lobby area she halted. The guard had been staring at the alcove when she appeared. He bolted up from his chair, sending it crashing into the desk behind him. His elderly, shaking hands gripped his drawn revolver, pointing it directly at Steve.
Topaz Dreams Page 19