DarkShip Thieves (31 page)

As though out of nowhere came a memory of my mother talking to me. I couldn't have been much more than five, but she was speaking very earnestly, as though I'd been a peer and capable of understanding.
Never give a man your heart. He'll just twist and wrench it out.

"Land and let me down, damn you," I said. Or I'll jump off as soon as you slow down and you know you can't land without slowing."

Kit gave me a half-frightened look, then said. "I'm landing. Don't jump."

He slowed and I could see he was dropping, dropping, dropping, slowly, until we came to rest by the side of the road, outside a row of fences. He landed and turned off the engine, and turned to look at me. "Look, Thena."

"Don't want to hear it," I said, pushing at the door, shoving it all the way out. Mom was right. Give a man power over your life and you would have it go seriously wrong. Just look at what Father did to me, and the only power he had over me was judicial. With a man I loved it would be much, much worse.

I slid through the open door onto the road. Like most suburban roads, it was soft grass that looked a lot like the living room carpet at hom—No. Not home. Not my home. It was the compound of Kit's family, and I would have to figure out how to move out and soon.

Kath was constitutionally incapable of not telling Kit about my foolishness, sleeping on the floor of his room with his violin. Which meant now the only way I would be able to call my soul my own would be to find a way to get back to Earth. And then I would never see him again, a prospect so desolate it made me even more miserable than the prospect of living under Kit's thumb.

I stomped along the road towards the Denovo compound, making a remarkable speed and only stumbling now and then, because my legs must still be getting rid of the effects of the hypnotics.

I'd gone through all that trouble to get him free of suspicion, and look where that got me. Nowhere at all. I should have known the other stuff would come out, but did it need to come out in front of everyone I knew or could possibly know at Eden? Now for the rest of my life here everyone would look at me with a half pitying look. And when Kit married, which was now inevitable, sooner or later—since he'd been upgraded from murderer to rather romantic widower—everyone would give me a pitying eye.

Well, see if I care. There were several good looking mechanics at the center. And now that they knew it wasn't my fault that ships were disappearing, I was sure I could get them to take me out. Two could play this game. I would be so busy making the acquaintance of every handsome male in Eden that—

"Thena!" Kit said, just behind me. His steps made no sound on the stupid grass road, and he must just have caught up with me, because he was panting.

"I bet you didn't exercise nearly enough without me in the Cathouse," I said, and wiped to the back of my hand the tears that were forming in my eyes, doubtless because it was so bright out here and I was still suffering a reaction to the drugs.

"Not nearly," he said, meekly. "I spent most of my time in the virtus."

I sniffled. That figured. In the virtus, dreaming of his time with his precious Jane. Damn it, Thena, you are such hot stuff you can't even compete with a dead woman.

"Look," he said, practically running to catch up with me, which should show him once and for all to stop taking advantage of his longer legs to set a faster pace than I was comfortable with. Because it wasn't all in the length of the legs, and he might as well get used to
that.

"Look, Thena," he said. "I'm an idiot."

Yeah, and? Did he expect me to defend him? What was I now? The official clearer of Kit Klaavil's name?

"I've probably always been an idiot. Would you please stop and turn so I can talk to you?" he asked. "Or at least slow down?" He reached for my arm, wrapped his fingers around it.

I stopped and turned. Some things are automatic. The only thing I can say is that I didn't kick him as hard as I could have. He keened and went down on his knees, clutching himself.

"Oh no," I said. "You shouldn't have touched me, you idiot!"

He was three shades paler than normal, as he looked up at me, and his eyes were full of the kind of tears brought on by sudden and sharp pain, but he was smiling, even as he sucked in a lungful of air in a way that sounded like it hurt. "I know," he said, and smiled wide. "I told you I was stupid."

"Granted," I said. "You win on that. Are you all right?"

He took another deep breath. "I will be," he said, and got up, in a testing sort of way. He shook his head. "You didn't kick as hard as you could have."

I crossed my arms on my chest refusing to admit to anything. "You wanted me to stop so I could talk to you. Now talk."

"Give me time. You know how the prospect of hanging concentrates the mind wonderfully? A kick to the groin doesn't."

"Does this mean you don't remember what you wanted to tell me?" I asked. "Right. I'm walking. We can talk at hom—at your—at the Denovo Compound."

And the stupid idiot reached for my arm again, though this time he managed to stop himself just before he grabbed it, his hand hovering so near that I could feel the warmth of it. "Thena, no. I know what I want to say. I'm just not sure how to say it. And I don't want to make you ang—angrier."

"That," I told him, "Would be pretty damn hard."

"Wouldn't it?" he asked conversationally. "But not after being kicked." He looked expectant, but I refused to acknowledge his low joke. He hissed breath out. "Listen, Thena, I need a nav."

"I'm sure there will be dozens of them ready to travel with you now that they know you're not a murderer!" I said.

"Probably. The Denovos are a good family," he said. "We have prestige. We have Kath's brilliance and quick temper, besides Kath being the most devious avenger who ever lived. Anne is a legendary nav. Everyone loves mom and dad. I'm fairly sure there are dozens of the younger navs and a few of the loners my age willing to pair with me."

"See?" I said. "Problem solved. As Doctor Bartolomeu said, you're welcome."

"So . . ." he said. "You've been on Eden now for a while. What kind of Nav do you think I should pick?"

Oh, was that how he was going to punish me? How he was going to show his power over me? Very well. I'd play his game. "You need someone quiet," I said. "Someone who doesn't get angry easily."

"Really?" he asked. He looked surprised. Clearly he hadn't expected me to pick up on his gambit.

"Very much so," I said. "Because, you see, you have such a sudden temper. If you were to . . . partner or marry a nav with the same temper, you would end up killing her." I realized what I had said, and amended, "I don't mean literally but . . ."

He inclined his head, looking infuriatingly unaffected. "I see," he said. "So I need a meek and mild woman," he said. "
Her voice was ever soft, gentle, and low, an excellent thing in woman.
"

"Shakespeare," I snapped. "King Lear." Did he think I was totally uneducated?

He grinned and bowed slightly. "What else?"

"Well, she should be blonde, because you clearly like blondes. And well read. And she should be a musician."

"Oh, yes, that would be great," he said, and beamed. "Then we could play while on the trips. It would be very nice."

"Yes," I said. "Wouldn't it?" I considered kicking him again. If I kicked hard enough, I could get a good way down the road before he recovered. Of course, if I kicked hard enough I might cause permanent damage, and though that shouldn't matter, it seemed to.

"There are . . ." He thought about it. "Last I paid any attention to any of them . . . Well, I think there are about five of the single navs who fit that profile."

"Good," I said. "Then you should fly to the center and ask one of them out, right about now."

He frowned at me, "I should, shouldn't I?"

"Yes," I said. "Now if you excuse me—"

The bastard used cat speed. Before I knew what he was doing, he was on me, clasping my wrists together in one hand behind my back and, before I could stop him, bringing his lips to mine.

I moved around, trying to get the right angle to knee him in the gonads. And found he had his other hand in front of them. I squirmed. If I raised my knee just right, and shoved to the side, I could push his hand away and—

Thena!

His voice in my mind jarred, and his lips moved gently against mine—firm and yet soft, soft and yet seeming insatiable, asking for and getting my attention. For a moment, my mind went blank and diffuse, like cotton candy spread thinly against a light, and his tongue slipped between my lips to meet my tongue. It felt demanding and insistent. It tasted of bug juice, which mingled oddly with the taste of burnt sugar left by the last drug, but he didn't seem to care.

I cared, but I couldn't think very clearly because there were weird things happening to my body—probably as a result of the drug residuals. My knees had gone rubbery, and there was this great heat spreading from somewhere in my lower stomach, as he pulled me closer to him, my body squeezed tight against his muscular chest, his calico beard tickling my face and those damned feline eyes all half-lidded and tender.

Princess, will you marry me?

I couldn't talk, but I could think at him, and I thought at him the impression of a swat, the whole of my aggrieved pride behind it.
Stop making fun of me you . . . bastard!

There was a low rumble of laughter deep in his chest, though he never broke our kiss. And now I was going lightheaded. Oxygen deprivation.
Never said I wasn't a bastard, but what does that have to do with my wanting you to marry me and be my nav? Too good for me?

No! Yes!
I pushed back from him and managed a ragged sentence, as I tore my lips from his, "Damn you."

His expression didn't alter—or not much. His eyes were still soft-tender. "Please?" he said. "Please marry me. Or at least be my Nav. You know I can't be trusted in space alone. I live in the virtus. And I need someone to do repairs and . . . Please? I promise to let you kick me twice a week and four times on Sunday."

It had to be the most absurd proposal ever made by any man to any woman. And it was insane. What the hell did he want with me, exactly? "You like being kicked?"

"No. But if it will get you to say yes . . . ."

"Are you insane?"

"Possibly. But look, I really need a nav and—"

"And next thing you know, you'll tell me you need a woman to cook your meals and bear your children." As I said it I remembered what Doc Bartolomeu had said. No children for Kit, ever, not unless he contrived to clone himself, and it wouldn't be the same. I looked away.

"Oh," Kit said. "I wondered if he had told you." He let go of me. We were suddenly very serious and I didn't feel at all angry at him, at least not enough to kick him.

I cleared my throat, searched madly for words.

"I'm sorry I bothered you," Kit said. "I thought . . . if you didn't know, you might . . ." He seemed to realize what he was saying. "I don't want you to . . . I mean, I knew you wouldn't do what . . . what Jane did . . . when you found out, and I thought when you found out, by that time, you'd have reasons to love me, and understand that . . . that I really am just a man, like other men. But now . . . I completely understand you could never knowingly marry a Mule."

His words were so formal, his tone so perfectly contained, that I had to clench my hands tight. I should have kicked him then, but I couldn't trust myself not to make it too strong. "You are stupid," I said. "Rude too. Assuming you know what my answer is and why."

"Uh . . . You were afraid . . . when we first met . . . you were afraid I was a Mule."

I put my hands on my hips and glared up at him, "Oh, yes, but that was when I thought Mules were all powerful evil beings. It was before I got to share a ship with one and understood his was a more pedestrian form of evil, consisting of not picking up his damned dirty clothes, as though vibroing were an arcane mystery; and of being a hot head who is too proud for his own damn good; and of not being a gentleman."

He looked confused. "Not being a gentleman?"

"No gentleman would propose to a woman by mind talk while making her completely irrational with the best kiss she ever experienced."

His eyes widened. A little chuckle mingled with a shocked gasp, and then he used cat speed again. The man really was a very good kisser. I wondered if he'd learned it from the late, unlamented Jane, in which case, he might be forgiven for having married her.

With his arms—both—wrapped tight around me, his body molded to mine, his mouth attacking mine with intent and malice, I felt like I was surrounded by Kit. I smelled the long-distance ship smell, but also the smell I'd come to associate with Kit—clean male with a hint of soap, but very male, warm and vaguely musky. I think I moaned, though I refuse to admit it. It might have been him for all I know. After all, our mouths were joined. Who knew who made what sound?

Marry me, Thena, please.

I tried to sigh and would have managed it, had he left me enough air space. If he intended on kissing me like this a lot, I was going to need a nose-mask and oxygen tanks in the future.
Yes,
I said, reluctantly.
I think I must.

It was perfectly clear to me that the poor man had become disturbed in his reason, and in those conditions it would be cruel and unfair to send him to space alone, much less when space had become so dangerous. I must marry him, just to make sure he stayed safe. It was the least I could do, since I was fairly sure I'd started him on this road by trying to garrotte him and reducing his supply of oxygen to the brain.

Yes, yes, you must,
he said.
It gets very boring in the Cathouse, without anyone to kick me.

Poor man. Madder than a broomer hopped up on oblivium.

We walked back to the flyer, hand in hand. It seemed to take a long time, possibly because Kit felt the need to kiss me now and then. He said he had to check on my breath rate, because of the drugs to emerge from the hypnotics, but how you checked on someone's breath by stopping it was beyond me. Not that I was complaining. His kissing seemed to stop my brain for long periods of time, too. Which is the only reason I can give for why it took me so long to wonder if it was such a good idea to marry him.