Braden (8 page)

“Shit.” Justin took a deep drink of ale. “I leave for
twenty-five years and look what happens. I remember Rylan, always sneaking in
to be with Maia, poor guy.”

“Yeah, that’s him.” The existence of Maia was also a pretty
deep secret.

“And Aiden and Ky? Hmm.”

“Together with a lady of the d’Aroth family, believe it or
not. She loves them to pieces. You don’t seem too freaked out about Aiden and
Ky.”

Justin shook his head. “I got used to life on Sirius, where
sex between consenting adults isn’t considered taboo. In fact, they think it’s
healthy. Men and women share equal status, some men pair up with men, some
women with women. Couples, threesomes, foursomes—whatever melts your butter as
long as it’s consensual and no one gets hurt.”

Braden sighed. “Sounds like paradise.”

“It was normal to me. Isn’t much else to do there except
watch trees grow.”

“Hey, I wouldn’t mind having a shitload of sex while I
watched trees grow. But you still haven’t answered me. Why the fuck did you
come back to the hellhole that spawned you?”

Justin drank again and gave Braden a little smile. “To find
someone.”

“Someone. Not a Shareem?”

“Nope.”

“A woman?”

“None of your damn business.”

“Shit. A man?”

Justin laughed. “No, not a man. Don’t worry. Your ass is
safe from me.”

“Good.” Braden drank again. “I don’t mind a threesome, or a
foursome, or a moresome, but not without a lady in the equation.”

“Me either.”

“Friend.” Braden clicked his ale bottle to Justin’s. “And
now that you’ve made me think about it, I had an encounter tonight I couldn’t
finish and if I don’t yank I’m going to die.”

“Don’t let me stop you.”

Braden got off the couch, his cock killing him. “Bedroom’s
behind the door next to the kitchen, clean linen and towels in the cupboard. ’Night.”

Justin nodded, half in amusement, half in sympathy, as
Braden rushed through the doorway into his bedroom. His loincloth came away
before the door even closed, and then followed lube and reliable hand on cock.

He stroked, pulled, massaged, rubbed—fucked his own hand
every which way—and still he couldn’t ease the torture of not being with his
librarian tonight.

* * * * *

Elisa’s spiritual advisor was eighty-two and a beautiful
woman. Sixty years of serenity rested on her face, which bore few lines. Her
sleek silver hair was covered with a translucent veil, and her movements were
soft and gentle.

“My dear, it is perfectly natural for you to have responded
to him,” Lady t’Lenka said. “You are a young woman, and the Shareem were
bred—rather imprudently—to satisfy a taste for the forbidden.”

Elisa rested her hands on her knees, her legs cramping a
little from the kneeling position. The private garden was large, spare and
beautiful, the air cool under the wooden pavilion. Wind chimes whispered, a
fountain trickled nearby and the cushion beneath her knees was covered with the
softest silk.

Elisa knew that the entire garden was protected from Bor
Narga’s sun and sand by a force field, and that the natural beauty of the place
wasn’t natural at all. It was cultivated, crafted, perfected, like most things
on Bor Narga, including Shareem.

“I wish I could make myself believe that,” Elisa said in
answer. “A natural reaction, never to occur again. A chance encounter and now
it’s over.” She clenched her hands. “But I want to see him again.”

Not only for the sexual feelings Braden had awakened in her.
Elisa wanted to talk to him again, to simply hear his voice.

“Are you asking for my permission for another encounter?”

“I don’t know,” Elisa answered.

Lady t’Lenka gave her a sympathetic smile. “My dear, I know
that choosing the Way of the Sky was difficult for you. I even know that you
made the decision in order to avoid an unpleasant marriage, not because you
craved the life of a celibate. I believe you will do well in the Way of the
Sky, but it must be a choice made for the right reasons.”

Elisa sighed. “Meaning I should embrace the Way only because
I believe in it.”

“Child, I will tell you a secret. I haven’t always been
eighty-odd years old.”

Elisa returned her smile. “I know that, my lady. I’ve seen
the holopics of you when you first entered the order.”

“Yes, but before that, when I was in my twenties, I was
quite a wild young woman. Sensual pleasure wasn’t as taboo on Bor Narga as it
is now. This was well before DNAmo developed Shareem. The creation of Shareem,
unfortunately, only fed the underlying paranoia the ruling women have about
becoming slaves to men in all but name, as our ancestors were. But when I was a
girl, there was more freedom, and I definitely did some wicked things.”

Elisa found it difficult to imagine this woman with her
quiet, graceful movements going to wild parties and chasing men.

“I see that you doubt,” Lady t’Lenka said. “But I had too
much money and I loved excitement—the rawer the better. If we’d had Shareem
then, I’d have taken up with them in a heartbeat. I tried every kind of liquor
and pleasure-seeking drug I could find, and I loved off-world men who were so
much more aggressive and sexual than our own males. I was shameless with them.”

Elisa still found it difficult to imagine, but the sparkle
in the elderly woman’s eye told her that her words were true.

“Why did you decide to follow the Way, then?” Elisa asked.

“Because I woke up one morning, sprawled in someone’s
shower, having no idea where I was or what I’d done for the past three days—or
with whom, man or woman. I realized that I’d been striving for happiness with
recklessness. Recklessness, I realized, was killing me. I did much soul
searching and decided to look into one of the Ways. I didn’t make the final
choice to follow the path for a year or two. I wanted to be certain.”

“Are you saying that I’m not certain?”

“I’m saying you didn’t have time to be. You hadn’t any
intention of pursuing the ascetic life before your fiancé upset you, had you?”

Elisa dropped her gaze. “To be honest, no.”

“I knew that when I approved your application. But I
understood that you were the sort of young woman who would try very hard, and I
hoped for the best.” Lady t’Lenka unfolded herself from her cushion and came to
Elisa. She rested her hand comfortingly on Elisa’s head. “I want you to see
this Shareem, to follow your temptations, and then to make your choice.”

Elisa looked up in astonishment. “You
want
me to seek
him?”

“It’s what you came here to ask me, my dear, wasn’t it? For
a dispensation?”

Yes, she had, though she hadn’t said so. Elisa had wanted to
talk around it with her, to assess how Lady t’Lenka would react before Elisa
asked. Wise Lady t’Lenka had seen right through her.

“I grant you the dispensation,” Lady t’Lenka said. “For one
month. Go and see your Shareem, and do what you must. You will not be allowed
to wear the robes, or enter the order’s house, or in any way associate with the
Way until you have chosen one path or the other. That decision will be final,
no turning back. Do you understand?”

Lady t’Lenka pulled Elisa to her feet as she spoke. Elisa
looked into her shrewd eyes. “Yes, m’lady. I understand. It’s what I need to
do.”

Formality over, Lady t’Lenka pulled Elisa into a
sandalwood-scented embrace. “Go with the goddess’s blessing, my dear.” She
smiled at Elisa, eyes twinkling. “And for heaven’s sake, enjoy yourself.”

Elisa kissed her cheek, bowed as she’d been taught and
turned away, her heart beating hard with excitement.

* * * * *

“Lady of my dreams,” Braden said when he answered his
terminal a day later. “Did you call to torture me some more? Have pity on your
poor Shareem. I’m running out of lube.”

“No.” On the other side of the blurry screen, Elisa n’Arell
drew a breath. “I called to hire you.”

Chapter Seven

Braden came alert, his adrenaline spiking off the scale.
“Like I said, sweetheart. You’re torturing me.”

“I want you to do whatever it is you do. With me. Teach me.
Please.”

The little
please
made his cock jump. “Darlin’, I
have a huge hard-on, and I might have to make you relieve it.” Braden forced
his voice to be careless, but he cared. Damn did he care. “You’re a celibate.
Certified, registered—whatever it is you do.”

“I’ve gotten a dispensation.”

Oh, hell.
“You know you’re killing me, love.”

“I’m not teasing.” Elisa watched him intently, the bad
console distorting her lovely features. “Is there some kind of contract we need
to negotiate?”

“What?” Braden dragged his mind back from his fantasies.
“No, no. This is just between us, sweet baby.”

“All right, then what do I do? Meet you at Judith’s bar?”
Elisa blushed. “I beg your pardon. I’m new at this. I’m not sure how to
approach you.”

I beg your pardon.
Gods above, he was going to die.

Braden drew a breath and suppressed every hormone screaming
at him. This couldn’t be real. He had to be asleep. This was a dream—a
cock-hardening, come-inducing dream. But no, there she was, on his crappy
console, wide-eyed and asking him to be Shareem with her.

Every muscle fought him as he reached toward the keypad.
“Sorry, sweetheart,” he heard himself say. “I’m going to be busy for a while.”

His finger didn’t want to press the disconnect button.
Braden almost had to force it with his other hand, his finger shaking like
crazy.

Elisa gave him a shocked look, and then the screen went
black.

Braden’s groan turned into a cry of anguish. His hand went
to his cock, but it ached so much that touching brought more pain.

Elisa would call back. That was the game. Braden was level
three. He had to make her beg for him. It was procedure.

Besides, he couldn’t really believe that a celibate, a
declared one, had decided to throw off her robes and go for him. It had to be a
trick, some way to lure Braden into committing the ultimate crime—touching a
celibate. The patrollers wouldn’t be able to terminate him fast enough, and
maybe they’d terminate a few other Shareem with him just to prove a point.

Justin came out of his bedroom, a look of concern on his
face. “You all right? I heard you bellowing like a hurt elephant.”

Braden wasn’t sure what an elephant was—some kind of
creature from Sirius III probably—but if it sounded anything like Braden in
anguish, he pitied it.

“Lady. Trying to hire me.”

“And this hurts you?”

“I want her,” Braden said. “I want her so bad.”

“And she obviously wants you if she asked to hire you.
What’s the problem?”

“You’ve been off planet a long time. Shareem don’t get to
have any woman they want. And if you’re level three, making
them
want
you
is what you do.”

Justin stared. “Damn, I’m glad I’m level two.”

“Yeah, but this is Bor Narga. Even if the lady says yes, you
walk the risk. And right now is a bad time to risk.”

“Why?”

Justin didn’t know Rees’ plans. Rees knew that Justin had
come to town—he’d known even before Braden told him—but Braden had no idea how
Rees saw Justin fitting in.

“Just trust me,” Braden said.

“You want this woman, right?”

“Yes.” The word was tight.

“So go for it. Screw being level three, screw Bor Nargan
rules. Clock out and enjoy yourself.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“It is easy. I broke my programming—well, most of it. You
can too, brother.”

Break his programming. Just as Elisa was trying to break
hers. They could be program-breakers together, act like an ordinary male and
female and enjoy each other.

Yeah, right.

“She’ll call back,” Braden said. “They always call back.
It’s a level-three thing.”

Justin pointed both hands at him. “You, my friend, are
fucked-up crazy.” He grabbed his robes and breath mask and banged out the door.

Braden stared at the black terminal a little longer. Elisa
would call. She had to.

She never did. Braden waited for an hour, then another, then
he went into the bathroom and took a freezing cold shower.

* * * * *

After twenty-four hours of agony, Elisa still hadn’t called
back.

Braden was supposed to have the upper hand here. He usually
did, and the lady always called, pleading. It usually took less than an hour,
though he’d known it to go as long as forty-eight, when the woman in question
had to debate long and hard with herself. Braden usually whiled away the time
with other ladies, and in any case the waiting had never gone longer than
forty-eight hours.

Braden would die if he had to wait two full days, and this
time he didn’t want to touch any other woman in the meantime.

At the end of the longest twenty-four hours of his life,
Braden called Elisa at her library. Elisa’s professional face filled his
terminal screen, and Braden touched his fingers to the image. Even that
pseudo-touch relieved some of the pain inside him, if only a little.

“Serestine Quarter library,” her smooth voice came to him.
“May I help—” Elisa broke off and leaned forward, her face-framing veil
fluttering. “Braden? Why are you calling me
here
?”

“This is what you do,” Braden said. “First, you give me your
word that this is no trick, that patrollers aren’t going to break in and haul
me off to the cells for even thinking about touching you.”

Elisa blinked, startled. “They’d do that?”

“You’re celibate, sweetie. Sacrosanct.”

“But I have a dispensation.”

“Give me your word.”

Elisa nodded. “You have it.”

Anyone could mouth a promise, but the look in Elisa’s eyes
told him she meant it.

“All right,” Braden said. “The next thing you do is, when
you go home tonight, you send your servants on a vacation. I want no one in the
house with you. I mean no one.”