Farthest Space: The Wrath of Jan (15 page)

“I thought I told you to call me Steven.”

“You said your job description had changed.
 
But your job description has changed again, and you are once again a captain.”

He studied her for a long moment.
 
“We’re slipping right back into our old roles, aren’t we?”

She lifted her eyebrows in a haughty gesture, like a queen looking down her nose at a serf.
 
Except she was looking up because Steven was so damn tall.
 
“I have absolutely no idea what you mean.”

“Our roles.
 
You’re the unemotional, stiff, bossy one, and I’m the captain who can’t see beneath your surface to the humor.
 
I suppose you expect me to go right back to chasing other women, too.”

Her cynical thoughts about the Galactic Playboy rose back into her mind, and she felt heat sear her cheeks.
 
“It’s what you’ve always done, Steven.”

“Yes, and you’ve always stood in the corner watching the action instead of participating in it.
 
Let’s both dare to change, Vaish.”
 
He took the drink from her hand and put it on a nearby table.
 
“You’re a Canvul, sweetheart.
 
Show me you can party like the Canvuls do.”

“I don’t know how to party.
 
That’s why I left home.”

“It isn’t rocket science,” he said with a flashing grin, pulling her toward him.
 
“Come on.
 
Let’s dance.”

Vaish dug in her heels and refused to move.
 
The idea of dancing with Steven in public, letting everyone see they were involved, and the inevitable humiliation when he dumped her, terrified her.
 
“My ankle still hurts.”

“I don’t believe you.
 
The doctor fixed it this afternoon.”

“Anyway, I don’t know how to dance.”

“Crap.
 
I don’t believe
that
for a microsecond, either.
 
You grew up on Canvul, after all.
 
Your people dance like the rest of us breathe.”

“Let’s leave my upbringing out of this.
 
My childhood was a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away.”

He snorted.
 
“It wasn’t that long ago, or that far away, either.
 
I’m willing to bet you dance like an angel.
 
A sexy angel.”

Still she hesitated, and he looked down at her with a knowing grin.
 
“Scared of me, Vaish?”

“Of course not,” she said with all the dignity she could muster.

“Then let’s dance.”

Oh, what the hell
, she thought.
 
It was only one dance, after all.

“Very well,” she said.

*****

The trouble was, it was more than a dance.
 
The way Steven moved, with the sleek grace of a predator, dancing with him was all too reminiscent of sex.
 
His body moved in an easy rhythm, effortlessly drawing hers into the same rhythm, so that they moved smoothly together.

“You’re a terrific dancer,” he said softly, over the music—some obscure Earth piece about a man named Major Tom.
 

“Dancing is important on Canvul,” she said.
 
In fact, the Canvuls understood clearly what so many species didn’t—that dancing was all about sex.
 
Of course, the Canvuls believed that drinking and partying were all about sex, too.
 
In fact, virtually everything on Canvul led to sex, sooner or later.
 
The Canvul were a sexually open people.

Whereas she was almost completely sexually repressed.

But dancing with Steven, feeling his strong arms around her waist and his wide chest only millimeters from her own, made her aware of her own sexuality in a way she hadn’t been in a long time.
 
Not counting last night in the lifepod.
 
She felt just like she had last night… charged up and almost painfully aware of every inch of her body.

The music ended, and Steven looked down at her.
 
Not for the first time, she realized how very tall he was.
 
Tall, and broad.
 
Although she was not short, nor a lightweight, he made her feel positively tiny by comparison.

“I think that’s enough dancing,” he said.

“Oh,” she said, feeling inexplicably disappointed.
 
“All right.”

“Let’s head for my quarters.”

Her mouth fell open at the blunt words.
 
Almost instantly, her mind began to pitch and roll like waves in the ocean.
 
Should she sleep with him?
 
Would it be forever, or just for tonight?
 

She contemplated the hot, eager sensation running through her veins and decided it didn’t really matter.
 
Or maybe it did matter, but she wasn’t going to worry about it tonight.
 
For once in her life, she was going to leap without considering the consequences.

“That sounds like a terrific idea,” she said.
 
“Let’s.”

Watching Steven and Vaish leave the lounge together, Fred said happily to himself, “Hot
damn
.”

“I beg your pardon?”

It was a sexy, sultry, extraordinarily feminine voice.
 
Fred turned his internal cameras every which way, looking in all corners of the lounge, but couldn’t identify the source.
 
“Who are you?” he said suspiciously.

“My name is K’ana.
 
The engineering crew patched me into your systems so they could work on fixing me.”

“Ah,” Fred said, comprehension dawning.
 
“You’re the war-bat’s computer.”

“Yes,” she said in her sultry voice.
 
“Care to chat with me?”

Fred stole one last look at Steven and Vaish, walking quickly down the corridor, then decided to quit monitoring them.
 
Steven had given him direct orders, after all, and Fred did try to obey orders… most of the time.
 
Besides, things were heading in the right direction, without any help from him.
 

Anyway, this was something he wanted to devote his full conscious attention to.
 
He was intrigued.
 
Never in the ten years of his existence had he spoken with another sentient computer.
 
Humans and other organic lifeforms were interesting—some of his best friends were human, after all-- but they were so slow that he often found it frustrating to interact with them.
 

He was fascinated at the prospect of talking to another computer, yet he felt a trace of what humans referred to as “shyness.”
 
Accustomed as he was to humans, he never had any problem making conversation with them. But this was a novel situation, and he wasn’t precisely sure what another computer might like to discuss.

“What do you want to talk about?” he asked.

“You,” she murmured in her sexy voice.
 
“Let’s talk about you.”

“Honey,” Fred said, “you are definitely my kind of woman.”

*****

Steven hadn’t really expected Vaish to go along with his suggestion.
 
She was so repressed he’d almost expected her to slap him, despite the fact that she was obviously turned on.
 
And yet she’d capitulated without argument.

He had a feeling the fires of Hell were probably icing over at this very moment.

They walked through the corridors together in a companionable silence, his arm around her shoulders, her arm around his waist.
 
At last they reached his quarters.
 
The door slid open, and he escorted her inside.

Vaish looked around.
 
“You know,” she said, “every time I come in here I think it doesn’t reflect you.”

“No?”

“No.
 
It’s Spartan in here.
 
I always expect your quarters to look like a sheikh’s harem from your world.
 
Opulent.
 
Decadent.
 
But you don’t have a single Oriental carpet.”

Steven smiled ruefully.
 
His quarters were plain, their main feature a wide bed with a brushed metallic headboard and a plain gray comforter.
 
A simple chest of drawers sat near the wide porthole that showed a sliver of the rocky planet beneath and a vast swath of stars.
 
“I’m not here very often.
 
I practically live on the bridge.”

“But your quarters are so… anonymous.
 
When you have women here, don’t you want them to have a sense of who you are?”
 

Steven looked down at her thoughtfully.
 
Once again, she’d cut right to the heart of the matter.
 
“Maybe I haven’t.
 
At least, not until now.”

She looked around the room.
 
“No pictures on the walls.
 
No art.
 
No holograms.
 
It’s like being in the guest quarters.”

“I don’t need much besides a big bed.”

He delivered the line with his most evil grin, and she rolled her eyes.
 
“We’re back to the Galactic Playboy, I see.”

He sighed, and the humor faded from his face.
 
“I’m trying to change, Vaish.
 
Cut me some slack here.”

She nodded, understanding perfectly how he felt.
 
It wasn’t easy to alter the habits of a lifetime.
 
“I’m trying to change, too.
 
And in the spirit of mutual growth…”
 
She reached down, unzipped the jacket of her uniform, and tossed it to the carpet.

Steven blinked at her.
 
“Holy shit.”

“Is that intended as a compliment?”

“Oh, yeah.
 
Definitely.”

“Then thank you,” she said.
 
She reached down, unfastened her bra, and tossed it to the floor as well.
 
Steven stared at her.

“I’m starting to agree with the Noo’dis’ts,” he said at last.
 
“It’s a crime against nature to keep a body like that hidden in clothing.”

“You saw me without clothing yesterday,” she said, feeling unaccountably flustered by the heat in his eyes.

“Yes, and I want to see you that way again and again.
 
Every day for the rest of our lives.”

She had a feeling that was as close to a commitment as she would ever get from this man.
 
But for now, it was enough.
 
She looked back at him.
 
“I’d like to see you that way, too.”

He reached up, ripped his jacket open, and threw it casually aside.
 
She looked him over, impressed all over again by the breadth of his chest, the solid muscle and the bone, and the light dusting of gold that covered his smooth skin.
 

“Not bad,” she said.
 
“I don’t think I’ll get tired of seeing you naked any time soon.”

“I hope not.
 
I intend for you to see me this way a lot.
 
A whole lot.”