Forever's Not Enough (Galactic League of Planets) (2 page)

Pran crossed her arms on top of the billowy silk robe bearing the Meline royal crest she was wearing, cocked her head to one side, and dripping sarcasm said, “Oh yeah, I believe that.”

When her mistress kept pacing she added, “Let’s see, the beam to get us here lasted all of two seconds. You must mean all that time I spent with the servants gathering your things together and preparing for the trip. You know, while you were out with Mazzatt dancing the blue moon into the ground.”

Grabbing double hands full of silk royal robe, Peenzan, wild-eyed and agitated, practically groaned in pain screaming in Pran’s face, “But it can’t be! How in the name of Bast could this be? How, in all the wicked fates served up, could she do this to me?”

Pran was becoming more than a little alarmed. What on Meline could the goddess Bast have done to her mistress?

“But…”

“How on Meline am I supposed to save our people if…if…”

“What?”

Pran watched her mistress, in a fit tear the sheer veil off her shoulders and try to throw the wispy material to the floor. Her hand came to her mouth when she saw the ridge of silky fur standing along her princess’s spine.

“Call my mother! Now!”

* * * *

Yes, grinning at the snifter of blue liquid, nothing like off world booze to get a man,
a human,
he amended, high as a fucking kite. And this was his third.

What the hell happened?
He still couldn’t figure it out.
It must be some kind of perfume. Yeah, that’s it. Some Meline something or other that puts humans in a state.

He could still see the fire in her eyes, the flare of her nostrils, the swish of her…
Shit, she has a tail!

“So, off duty early I see.”

He downed his snifter of blue liquid and shoved it toward the bartender. With a sideways glance at Radd, he grunted and went back to his thoughts.

Yeah, you couldn’t see them without wanting to pet them. And he sorely wanted to pet this one. Damn!

“Tough day at the office?”

Picking up the snifter he pointed in the general direction of his lieutenant and ordered another. Looking around the dark lounge to make sure it was corps and diplomat free, he tried to invite Radd to join him. “U otta ave un.” He swayed dangerously, his finger poking at the air before finishing with a goofy grin, “L…ieutenant!”

The lieutenant picked up his snifter, and with a sigh of resignation, tipped his sergeant’s glass in a toast.

“U know, …ieutenant, u was right!”

“How’s that, Hill?”

“’ell,” he said as he nearly fell off his barstool. “You sure can’t ’ook at ’em without ’anting to, well, you know.” He leaned close and whispered conspiratorially, “You know, ieutenant! Pet em! Yeah, that ambassador lady sure is one fine pussycat!”

This time, when he started laughing, he did fall off his stool.

* * * *

He couldn’t figure out where he was at first. Then he got it and jumped up. His boots were soggy and his uniform soaking wet.

“What the hell?”

Then it hit him. It was like a
Marjing
mind worm drilling through the middle of his brain. He thought it would split his head like an egg any second.

“So, sunshine, you back with us?”

He wanted to speak, but every time he opened his mouth he had this overwhelming desire to spew his guts.

“That’s okay, this too shall pass.”

Shoving his head under the cold spray, he decided he seriously doubted the Lieutenant knew what the hell he was talking about.

“I gave you a
sober-up
.”

That explained that.
How many damned drinks did I have?

“Oh, and one more thing, Hill.”

He looked out between his fingers.

“The next time I have to drag your sorry ass back from a bar when you’re on duty, I’ll post you so far out in the Blue system you’ll be sleeping with a light bulb just to keep your gonads from freezing off!”

When the lieutenant left, he started pulling his wet uniform off and scowled while he dumped a cup of water out of each of his boots.

“Damn,” he muttered.

“What’s that?” the Lieutenant yelled from his office.

“Nothin’, Lieutenant.”

“Stop mumblin’ and report to duty, sergeant!”

“Fuck,” he mumbled.

“What did you say?”

“Nothin’, Lieutenant! Double time, Lieutenant! I’ll be right there, Lieutenant!”

And to top it all off, he could still smell her! And his damned cock just wouldn’t settle! What the hell has this she-cat done to me?

Grabbing a towel he wrapped it around his waist, letting the tuck hang in front to try and hide the state of his cock, and reported to the Lieutenant’s office.

“Sorry, Lieutenant. I can explain, Lieutenant. I just…”

When he ran out of steam, Radd prodded, “Well this ought’a be good. Great, explain away!”

“Well, Lieutenant. I reported for duty. The detail, I mean, and well, then I, well… and then we… I mean the ambassador, well, then she wanted to… well…and she purred, well…”

“Right,” Radd boomed shutting him up. “Look, Hill, I don’t want to know what happened.” Given the state of his stomach, Hill was sure he was going to spew right on top of Radd’s desk. “All I know is that the ambassador has requested your presence for tonight’s Company dinner.”

That was the last thing he wanted, “But, Lieutenant…”

“Do I look like an asshole to you, Sergeant?”

Damn, it had been a long time since he’d seen Radd so mad.

“Ah, no,” he said then rushed to add, “Sir!”

“Then don’t
but
me, Sergeant! Now, you got your orders. Report to the ambassador’s suit at 2100!”

When he didn’t respond the Lieutenant bellowed, “I can’t hear you!”

“Sir, yes sir!” His hand came up in a sharp salute and he spun on the balls of his bare feet to leave.

He was contemplating the current climactic conditions in the Blue system when Radd barked, “Oh, and dress whites with full diplomatic sash!”

His mouth fell open and he nearly stumbled headfirst into the doorframe making his exit.

* * * *

“This is ridiculous!”

How could this be? It’s unheard of. It hasn’t happened for more than two millennium. How can you do this to me, Bast?

Pran smiled wickedly. “Ah, but it is the queen’s order. You must.”

Turning in a fit of rage she said, “She’s my mother! And I’m old enough to decide these things for myself! She told me so!”

“Then why are you doing so much preening for a Corporation dinner you don’t even want to go to with a man, as in hu-man, you have spent the entire afternoon cursing Bast for sending to you?”

She pulled the thin feather beneath her eye, and forgetting herself, smiled at the results. Just as quickly, she frowned and whined sarcastically, “Well, you’ve been a lot of help.”

With a petulant smirk she watched Pran sulk and went back to fixing her face.

She tried to remember. It had been over two thousand years ago. Somewhere in the family line. Or, more importantly, the royal line. It had been before the humans had even left their planet, much less their solar system. In some place they called Egypt. She couldn’t recall the whole story and made a note to ask her mother.

When Pran poked her in the side, she jumped. “What was that for?”

Pran smiled sheepishly. “You were purring.”

“I was not!”

“I heard you, Princess!”

“You did not!” But she knew she had been.

They stared at each other until they both burst into giggles.

Bending back to the mirror, Peenzan admitted, “I was, wasn’t I?”

Her hand came up to her mouth and she nearly shouted, “I did it today, too!”

“In public! No!”

“I couldn’t help it. As soon as I got near him, it just happened.”

“Oh my Bast! Did anyone hear you?”

Her face was blank for a beat then she burst into more giggling. “He did!”

Pran grabbed her arm, “No! He can’t have!”

She felt a blush, “And I leaned into him and…”

“No! In public? What did he do?”

Turning back to the mirror, she whispered, “I think I scared him to death.”

“Are you going to tell him?”

She didn’t answer and cursed when she realized she was purring again.

And why now
, she wondered, dusting her face with flecks of gold.
And why couldn’t it have been Mazzatt?
She felt unsettled when his name, one that had always sent a rush through her, no longer had a magic sound to it.
Mazzatt.
She whispered it out loud, “Mazzatt,” and felt sorry for him.

They’d all been so sure. Even her mother. It was just a matter of time, she’d said. It will happen soon.

Well, she said to herself wickedly, guess what Mom, it happened.

When she stepped from the cleaning room, she found a full-length gown of translucent
mijon
silk from the Blue system with gold edging lying on her bed.

Pran carried gold slippers with heels high enough to give her a nosebleed in one hand and the Meline state sash in the other.

“Oh, I hate that thing,” she said pointing at the sash. “I don’t see why I have to wear it.”

“Try to keep in mind that this is a state dinner with the United Corporation and you are here to save our people, my princess.”

She sulked some more fingering the luscious edge of the gown.

When they both heard a light rap on the door, she jumped and Pran ran to her side and whispered, “And not some first date with Mr. Right.”

“What?”

Pran ran back and whispered, “It’s your second!”

When Pran ran out giggling, Peenzan scowled, and smiling the whole time, started dressing.

* * * *

Aside from feeling stupid, he felt more than a little trepidation as he stood staring at the five red stars on her suite door.

What the hell is wrong with me?
His palms felt wet in his white dress gloves and he had his dress saber pulled so far to the front of his black slacks to hide his half hard cock he was almost out of regulation.

At 6’8” and two hundred sixty pounds, he was nothing more and nothing less than a finely tuned fighting machine trained to stare down the deadliest of threats no matter what solar system or planet they came from. Well, that and the platoon fuck-up. Too many brains and way too much brawn, one captain had commented the last time he’d fucked up.

It’s one of the reasons Diplomatic duty was such an insult to him. Running around in red silk sashes and sabers, tipping fine crystal with the pantywaists that ran the Corporation, was not what he’d had in mind when he’d signed on to the deadliest fighting force in the galaxy.

He cursed himself again as he stood, his thighs quivering beneath his slacks, waiting for someone to open the damn door. Just as he raised his knuckles a second time it slid open.

“Good evening. I’m Sergeant Hillsborough, here for the Madame Ambassador.”

When the young woman stood, mouth open, and said nothing, he added, “I believe I’m expected.”

She said something and he had no idea what it was. Must be her native tongue. You would think an Ambassador would have multilingual help. But given her step to the side and sweeping hand, he decided it was an invitation and strode into the main reception room of the huge suite.

When, eyes as big as saucers, she spoke a second time in the same strange language and disappeared down a hallway still muttering, he pulled on his starched collar and fell into parade rest staring at a lavish painting of a Meline female that looked surprisingly like the Madame Ambassador.

* * * *

“Oh my Bast! I forgot to speak his language! Twice!”

Peenzan inspected her nails and smiled wistfully.

“You can’t!” Pran exclaimed.

“What on Meline are you talking about, Pran?”

Turning she pointed at her back and Pran lifted the two wide falls of cloth from her side and, pulling them behind her princess, tied them into a six sided knot that represented the hallan flower on their home planet. Snapping a big shimmering gold button in place, she was through.

Fluffing the long strands out over Peenzan’s back-fall that still showed beneath her gown representing the stem of the flower, Pran explained excitedly, “He’ll crush you! He’s huge! He’s a walking wall!”

She flushed at the thought and fanned her neck with her open palm.
Yes, he is huge isn’t he?

“Don’t be silly, Pran.”

“I mean it, Princess; we must call your mother at once!”

Standing in front of the tall mirror she inspected the front of her dress noting the small line of soft champagne colored fur that ran delicately between her breasts in a ridge to stop at the small of her neck. Turning to her side she inspected Pran’s work and smiled with satisfaction.

When she looked up, she jumped to grab the communicator from Pran and threw it on the bed, “What are you doing?”

“I swear, Princess, it isn’t physically possible! We must stop this right now! He will kill you!”

She fixed her handmaiden with a benevolent smile and said,
“Well, Pran, if that is how I am to die, if that is Bast’s will, then so be it.”

She’d started purring again.

“Forgive me, Princess, but you are completely mad.”

“I know,”
she replied, her inflection gentle, a soft purring lilt,
“Mad in love. Now please, Pran, bring me the sash and send me out to meet my executioner.”

Pran swatted her princess on the shoulder, “And stop purring!”

She brought her hand to her chest and blushed.

“Stark raving mad,” Pran repeated.

* * * *

Crenshaw sat waiting for the chairman to speak first. He watched impassively as another leather bound document was signed, sealed, and carried away by the chairman’s assistant.

“So Blake, is everything in place?”

“Yes it is, Mr. Chairman.”

“And how will it happen?” the chairman inquired, and then picked up a cup of coffee before adding, “Or do I want to know?”

It was a task like any other. One of hundreds he’d performed for the current board of directors. There’d been a proposition, a vote, and a resolution. And he was the
go to
man who would make sure the resolution was carried out. He had no idea why the Meline had been earmarked for eradication, and frankly, he didn’t care. His only concern was how to make it happen.