Heat (107 page)

“I can take you away from Earth,” he said, still addressing the main bay’s ceiling. “But you must understand that you will never be permitted to return.”

“I know,” she whispered. “What…what will you do to me?”

“I expect you will be detained at first, for medical purposes. I am sure you will be made as comfortable as possible and no one will harm you. Afterwards…” He hesitated, risking a sidelong glance that showed him only her spiritless profile. “You will be moved to a…facility…forgive me, I do not know the correct word. A place for humans we have recovered from others like E’Var.”

She nodded dully.

“It is the place you will live thereafter,” he continued. “There will be many other humans and no Jotan. You will be assigned a room at first, but you are, of course, free to move when and where you will. The moon is—”

“Moon?” She raised herself to look at him. “Aren’t I going to live on Jota?”

“No.” Again, he hesitated, trying to see through the face she showed him and gauge how much of the truth she needed to know and how much would only upset her further. “It is well within our space and is monitored to preserve the stability of its inhabitants, and to provide medical services and other aids when necessary, but it is not on Jota. We wished to prevent escape.”

She only stared at him.

“And abductions,” he admitted.

She looked away.

“It is not much like Earth, but it is a safe place. And it is the only place I can take you if I remove you from this world.”

Raven drew a deep breath and let it out as a shuddery sigh. Her shoulders hunched. “I don’t have a choice,” she said. She glanced toward the door to the prisoner’s holding cell and her hands clenched on the chemist’s pack. “What about…”

“He will be imprisoned for what remains of his life,” Tagen told her firmly. “He will sleep out the flight to Jota and be taken directly into custody. You will not have to see him or speak to him. There is no escape from our prisons. Once he is installed, he will be gone.”

“How—” Her voice failed her and it was a little while before she could go on. “How long before that happens? Will he go directly to jail?”

“I think not. There will be questions for him.” Tagen’s gaze went to the sealed cell and darkened grimly. “He will be held some time on Jota, I suspect.”

“Not in prison?”

“No.” He sorted through his N’Glish warily for his next words. Raven had gone as tight as a coiled spring; he would have to be careful of the way in which he chose to comfort her. “To have a interrogation team stationed at the prison would be too great a risk to their safety, and to transport them in each day would present too much opportunity of escape for the other prisoners. But his cell on Jota will be quite secure and his transport to prison afterwards will surely be better orchestrated than his first. And he does not know you are here,” he finished. “He will never come for you. He will never know that you have left Earth.”

Raven nodded, drew a deep breath, and nodded again.

“Are you certain this is what you want?” he asked.

She looked at him, her face empty. “I don’t think it matters what I want anymore,” she said. She stared at E’Var’s door. “None of this was supposed to happen. None of this is one bit fair. But if you need me to say it so your conscience is clear, then sure, this is what I want. Take me to your concentration camp. I’ll survive.”

Tagen’s talons did tak then, but he brought down the bars of the flight harness and began to strap her to her seat. He supposed he understood where she was coming from well enough, but he did wish he could hear more bitterness in her voice. At least then he could be certain of her sincerity.

Wit, insight, humor, and now sensitivity. Gods, he was beginning to think he was more than merely a terrible officer, he was what the humans called a stone-cold bastard. How Daria had managed to live with him this long—

Daria.

Tagen glanced behind him at the open airlock as he cinched the last safety on Raven’s harness tight. He saw only open forest at first, and then the twitch of an orange tail at hip-height just beyond the door. He rose and went outside.

Daria continued to lean against the side of the cruiser, rubbing Grendel’s neck and gazing down at the dry soil of her home world. She did not speak to him.

Tagen glanced up once at the glaring eye of Earth’s sun. He could feel Heat creeping in at him and it gave him a strange sensation that was almost nostalgia. He would be gone from here before his tsesac filled and it would be many, many years before he underwent the experience again. At this point (and again, he would admit he was not being objective), he would be happy if he never went into Heat again. He did not care if he returned to Jota and a full thousand admiring females anxious to breed. Never again. But then, neither had his time here passed in a wholly unpleasant manner.

Grendel miaked contentedly, its eyes slivers of serenity and pleasure as it kneaded the flesh of Daria’s arm. Tagen reached out and rubbed the short furs on the animal’s nose. Daria still did not speak. Well. He supposed he should say something.

“I am taking Raven with me,” he said.

“Good.”

Silence. He could feel sweat beading on his chest and stomach, making his uniform cling uncomfortably to his skin.

“I was hoping you’d find a way to help her,” Daria said suddenly.

“I do not know how ‘helped’ she will feel,” he admitted. “I do not imagine it is an easy life. I—”

He stopped there, glanced within at the human secured for flight with E’Var’s pack hugged to her chest, and then began to walk. Daria followed him. They moved without speaking to the groundcar and stopped there. Neither of them looked at the vehicle, but all of Grendel’s attention was fixed hungrily within at his greatly-reduced supply of food tins.

“My obligations on this world should not begin and end with E’Var’s capture,” Tagen said. “I cannot in all honesty say that I trust this Raven, but I feel compelled to make some reparation for all that has been done to her. And…for all that I have done to you, I suppose I should feel the same sense of duty.”

She smiled just a little, gazing down at the hand at work in Grendel’s fur. “But you don’t?” she guessed.

“No.” He paced a little ways back towards his ship, and then returned to the groundcar and turned to face her. “I wish that I did. I am a solider. My sense of duty has always been clear to me and easily followed.”

“Tagen—”

“No, let me speak. I love you. The thought that I must leave you is the most brutal blow I have ever known. I would have you come with me as well, Daria Cleavon.” He did not allow her time to answer, but spoke on rapidly, turning his back so that he could not see her reactions and let himself be crippled by them. “You are, of course, free to do what you will on Earth. It would be wisest, I am sure, to return to your home and I trust you to say nothing more of me. I will not argue if such is your decision. If you choose to leave this world, you will never return to it, and although I will fight to keep you with me, I can make you no promise that you will not be sent to the same life awaiting E’Var’s female. It is a risk. I hold you no blame if you choose not to accept it.”

“Are you done?” Daria asked. She sounded like she was smiling.

“No. I am not an easy male to live with, by all accounts. And I do not know, even if you are permitted to remain with me, whether you will also be permitted to accompany me on tours off-world. The food will likely be not to your taste, the language will take some time in learning, the appliances will confound you, and the gods only know what you will think of the privy, and of course, you will certainly be under a great deal of pressure to provide our Human Studies scientists with information at every spare moment. If you come…” He sighed, rubbing at his temples in discouragement. “Now that I think it through, I cannot imagine why you would want to. No, Daria. Not even I am so selfish. I will leave.”

He turned around into Daria’s open palm striking against his chest and pinning him effectively in place. “Now are you done?” she asked severely.

“Yes,” he said. “Now I am.”

She took a handful of his jacket and pulled him down into her kiss.

Tagen closed his eyes, feeling all the world slip away. He savored every unending moment of this-her sweet breath, her firm lips, the flicking touch of her tongue, even the cat’s paw batting at his throat. His arms enfolded her easily, holding her against his heart.

At last, she drew back enough to let him see her smiling face. “Even a chance at a life with you is worth any risk,” she said. “You saved me, Tagen. Take me with you. Heck, even if they put me in the zoo, you can at least come visit me. There’s just one thing.”

She stepped back to arm’s length and looked down at the cat in her arms. Grendel purred, claws extending and sheathing in empty air, its long tail lashing happily.

Tagen blinked. “Ah,” he said. He clapped his hands once briskly and opened up the groundcar’s hatch. “I shall fetch out his food. You collect his scratch-sand.”

“Are you sure?”

He had to laugh a little. “Daria,” he said dryly. “I am already bringing home a human. Surely, if they can overlook that, no one would begrudge me a cat.”

T
here were few feelings in all the universe quite as nice as a homecoming. Nicer still was a homecoming to a new home, where the paint was still fresh and everything still clean and hopeful. But nicest of all was opening that door newly-marked with his name, breathing in the scent of a hot meal, and stopping over the twining body of an orange cat to take a beautiful female into one’s arms.

Daria, his Daria, let him hold her as the evening meal threatened to surpass sizzle and move on to singe. Her hair was soft as it passed beneath his stroking hand, her breath warm as it exchanged with his, and her teeth sharp as she nipped his chin when his kiss ended.

“I trust it went well?” she asked lightly.

“Very,” he said. “I have been once more promoted. I am now a third-rank officer. Congratulate me.”

She did, most pleasantly, nibbling all down his throat to his chest as she opened his jacket before biting him hard just above his heart. One last kiss to tease him, and then she was running down the hall to rescue their dinner.

“
Vey
Venekus wishes an appointment in the coming days,” he called, following her. “For medical testing. Dietary questions, discussion of anatomy, ailments to which humans are prone and the symptoms of same, undoubtedly some matters of reproduction.”

“Oh God help me. All right. Is he the one with the funny eye?”

“No. He is—”

“Oh, the other one. The little guy.”

“Yes.”

“Sure, okay. I like him.”

“Tell him so. It will please him.” Tagen passed a cluttered mass of moving crates, sparing it a smile of approval. Still in their ungainly heap. Good. “For as much as it matters, I believe he likes you as well.”

She laughed, blushing a little, trying to be comfortable with the idea. She stayed busy at the cooker, working it as effortlessly as if she’d had years of experience with the device rather than a mere three days. “So…so it’s all settled? For real? I can stay and everything’s cool? Fine, I mean?”

“Yes,” said Tagen, slipping an arm around her waist. He bent to breathe in dinner scents over her shoulder. “Everything is cool.”

*

“Out of the question!” the Magistrate snapped. And when Tagen did not reply or drop his gaze, she banged both hands down on the table and showed every fang she had. “I am shocked,
shocked
! That you would even ask!”

“You mistake me, Magistrate,” he said evenly. “I am not asking.”

It took a while for that to sink in all the way, and once it had, Magistrate Inarr’s face seemed to bloom outward with the force of her astonishment. It made her seem younger somehow. Tagen watched, waiting in silence for outrage to come flooding in to fill that oddly youthful face. In all fairness, he couldn’t say that the meeting had taken a bad turn. It had been this bad from the very start.

As he’d known it would be, from the very instant he’d walked into the conference room and seen the four people already seated at one end of the table. The High Magistrate who had started this whole miserable affair, of course, in the same white robes of office and wearing the same bitterly annoyed expression, and who had set the serious tone of this meeting by actually introducing herself. Beside her, a scientist. Not
vey
Venekus this time, oh no, it was none other than
vey
H’sivek Kosar, head of the Department of Xenobiological Sciences. And on
her
left, the only other male in the room, Tagen’s commanding officer from his previous tour of deep-space duty, Dukanath Cura. Across from him, seated at the Magistrate’s right hand, Fleet Admiral and commander of the Jotan Interplanetary Allied Forces,
taxan
Chani Sta’al. The only person who could have made the moment more intimidating would be Jota Prime’s Governor-in-Chief, Rangan Etat, at the table.

No, meetings like that don’t have good starts. And they rarely work their way around to good endings. Tagen was prepared. He’d made a civil salute to all and taken a chair and then confined himself to trying to appear confident while keeping his temper in check.

“You took her
home
?” were Magistrate Inarr’s very first words, and so the debriefing was off and running.

“Her quarantine had ended,” he’d said calmly. “
Vey
Venekus pronounced her fit and in no danger of contracting or spreading communicable disease.”

“That’s hardly the issue!”

“I’m quite sure I filed the proper custody release forms.”

“Yes, but you were supposed to take her to the preserves! Not home, for the gods’ sakes! Really, Pahnee, you need to work on this tendency of yours to overcompensate for failures. Losing one human does not entitle you to
keep
another! Now sign out a hopper and put her where she belongs!”