Hero! (21 page)

“Gwathshit,” Vaun snarled. “If that’s the case, then it’s your duty to have me shot and it’s my duty to see if I’m fast enough to toss you over this railing first.”

Triumph gloated in Roker’s blue eyes. Vaun was blundering perilously close to threatening a superior officer, and of course Security now had his words on record. Roker’s courts-martial had a tendency to be predictable and fatal. Fornicating scorpions!

The big boy waited to see if there was more to come. When there wasn’t he continued, looking ominously pleased with himself. “So you want me to believe that you’re loyal to the Patrol, do you? Then you won’t mind proving it?”

Anything might surface now. “I am honored to serve…sir.”

Roker curled his lip. “Where are the other two?”

“What other…The missing brethren?”

“The missing cuckoos, Dice and Cessine. We never did catch them, did we? Where have you been keeping them all these years? What have they been up to?”

Vaun felt much better. If Roker wanted to link him to those two, then he was welcome to try. “I don’t know anything about them. I have no idea where they are, and never have had.” Sincerity was wonderfully refreshing at times.

The high admiral bared his teeth right in front of Vaun’s eyes. “Well, you are going to find them for me.”

“I am?” Danger instincts flashed lights. He studied Roker’s sneer and decided that it was unpleasantly confident. “How?”

“I’ll tell you later. I have an expert coming to help you.”

“That’s a threat.”

“Threat? No, no. Oh, not at all. You will merely demonstrate your loyalty to the Patrol by carrying out a…mildly risky?…Yes, a mildly risky mission. Of course, your courage is legendary. Quild will assist you. Together, you’re going to find the missing brethren for us. Right here, in Valhal.”

Roker knew something Vaun did not, obviously. There had to be something behind such insanity, something to explain the gleam of triumph in the blue Kailbran eyes.

“A
ND LEAVE OUT the stiffened” Vaun said.

The medic hummed and buzzed. It had already clicked disapprovingly over his bruises, but had issued no dire warnings about advancing age and extra medication and taking it easy. He still felt sour and shaky, but that was probably due to his suppressed fury at Roker, rather than to a few hours’ delay in his daily booster.

He had greeted the odious collection of “guests” the high admiral had brought with him; then had watched as they quaffed his best liquor in the Rainbow Room while awaiting the banquet they had ordered. Not one of them had ever come visiting in the past. Socially Vaun did not exist, but pillaging expeditions were apparently permissible behavior for spacer aristocrats.

After enduring the fusillade of wit for a while, he had excused himself to attend to personal matters. Ironically, Tham’s death had probably eased their mockery a little. Even that worthless crowd had liked Tham and now mourned him. Most of them seemed to approve of what Vaun had done.

A sinister purple position gurgled from the medic. Vaun tossed it off in one swallow. It tasted much the same as always.

It was years since he’d omitted his daily overdose of stiffener and he resented the need to do so now, but with Roker playing his deadly games in Valhal, a boy had better keep his head clear. Citizen Feirn would not be able to assume her new duties for a while yet.

So now he must dress up like a trained furpurr to entertain the parasite convention at dinner! Thinking murderous thoughts, Vaun went limping back to his own quarters, and his fury boiled up again like a pain in his throat even as the outer door dephased for him. The evidence was everywhere—people had been sitting on his bed, rummaging through his library, setting drinks down on the antique tables, sniffing croil. Every room stank of the filthy stuff. He threw open the big doors to the terrace to let in the air. This had been where Roker and his herd of flunkies had waited, eavesdropping on his conversation with Feirn and Blade and no doubt laughing their foul guts out. And if Service had not cleaned it up already, it was because Roker had given orders, so that Vaun himself could find the mess. How could anyone so petty have risen so high?

He ripped off his shirt and wadded it up. And paused. No! He was not going to dress up so he could go back and play gracious host for that gang. He could eat here…except that Roker’s control of Security automatically let him run all of Household, so even that might refuse to obey Vaun now. Krantz! Raped and emasculated both!

He would go for a swim instead. Yes, he would head down to the bay and see how Ensign Blade was making out with the strealers or if he had already vanished over the horizon on a runaway gaspon. At the moment even Ensign Blade might seem like decent company.

Vaun also needed to view Tham’s secret file, but if Roker had discovered it in the Valhal records, then that also might have vanished over the horizon. Vaun dearly wanted a peek at it, even if only to confirm that it was as useless as Tham had claimed, but it would have to wait until the marauders departed.

And this evening there would be the mysterious surprise that Roker refused to explain.
Mildly risky
sounded like a politic euphemism for
lethal
. Of course, it was impossible for the long-lost Dice and Cessine to be anywhere on the island…unless Roker had brought them with him. If the missing cuckoos had at last been captured and Roker could link them to Vaun in any way, then Vaun was a dead hero.

A shadow moved within brightness and he turned to the terrace doors. Crimson fires of backlighting outlined Feirn’s head like a stellar corona. How could he have forgotten Feirn?

She did not wait for an invitation, and as she glided toward him, the bundled shirt tumbled from his fingers to the rug.

“Vaun?”

“I am sorry,” he said, distracted from his anger by the graceful swing of those trim legs. “I did not plan it like this.”

She smiled a wistful smile that knotted his heart. “I know. I am sorry, too. What you promised me…just the two of us, and you showing me all of Valhal, corner by corner…that would have been wonderful, Vaun. But maybe when the high admiral leaves?”

His blood raced insanely; she had come close enough for him to start counting freckles. Yesterday’s stiffener had not worn off yet, obviously. His head would not clear for a day or two.

Red hair…Was his fascination with red hair common knowledge? Maeve had guessed, he recalled. If Maeve knew, then DataCen did also.

So perhaps his head was not supposed to be clear, and this cute little wench was another of Roker’s spies.

“Maybe,” he said, struggling with desire. “But that may not be for days. So as soon as your friend Blade finishes slaughtering strealers, he can fly you right back to wherever you came from.”

He had been too harsh. She recoiled, then turned away quickly.

“You don’t want me?”

“Not right now, thank you.”

“But you said—”

“That was before I knew about Roker.”

“Vaun?” She whispered, staring at the window. When he did not answer she continued, in a fast, nervous chatter. “Vaun, darling, I know this sounds crazy, but…Actually, I’ve never done it before. I mean most of the girls I know have been, well, you know, they started years ago, because their parents encouraged them, some of them, just kids even, and had lots of lovers ever since, but I waited, and I waited so long that now I’m scared to start, isn’t that crazy? Just that first time, like jumping in a cold pool, and then I’m sure I’ll be all right, but I’ve made such a big thing out of the first time now that, well, it is crazy, I know.”

Yes, it was crazy. He didn’t know what to say next, but for some reason his excitement level was shooting straight up again like a Q ship. Never done it before? Why should that kinky idea arouse him so much?

Because it was supposed to.

“Pardon my asking, but what’s wrong with Ensign Blade? You seem to be good friends.”

She continued to stare at the window, hiding her face from him. “Oh, you won’t repeat this to anyone…and I’m only guessing, of course…but I don’t think he’s ever done it either, and certainly not very often, and that would be silly, wouldn’t it, two people both trying it for the first time and neither knowing what to do? I mean, two clumsy beginners?” She sniggered nervously. “But Blade says he understands, and when I’m ready, just to tell him.”

Holy Joshua!
“He is…willing?”

“Oh, yes! Quite eager, I think, actually.”

Utterly insane! But typical of the way wild stock got their whole lives entangled in their messy reproductive affairs.

“Feirn, Blade is a spacer officer. He has access…I mean, there is a preparation for girls called ‘loosener,’ and a spacer officer—”

“He won’t. He says it would not be honorable.”

“Honorable? Not honorable? If you ask him?”

She sniggered again, and wiped her cheek with a slim finger. “Blade has very strong ideas about honor.”

“Persuade him.” Now Vaun was catching the insanity. Whose case was he arguing here?

“I’m not certain I could. Blade is awesomely well-disciplined. And it wouldn’t be fair. He would hate himself afterward.”

“I’m sure he would survive…And where do I come in? Why me?” he asked, while every cell in his body now was screaming
Why not?
Why did he have to get mixed up in the problems of this giddy little random?

“Well, I was told…I think you…You seem…”

“Who said?” he demanded, suspicion rising again.

“A friend told me you were the finest lover she had ever known, and if I explained that I was nervous, you would be gentle and helpful, and…Oh, shit. I wish you’d just…You could have done it by now, couldn’t you?”

“Maeve?”

She turned and stared at him with dismay, and then nodded.

Maeve!
Always Maeve! He had blundered into her web like a blind bug the previous night, and he was still entangled. “This is some sort of elaborate joke, I suppose? What exactly is there between you and Maeve?”

Now the child was close to tears. “Oh, I’ve made a mess of this…”

“Tell me! What am I missing?”

“She’s my mother.”

With no memory of moving, Vaun had gone right by her, had reached the window, and was staring out of it.

“And she sent you to
me
?” Pimping her own daughter?

He heard a sniff. “No. It was all my idea.”

“Why?” Another spy, of course. Was there no end to their foul suspicions, their prying…

“I told you.”

“I don’t believe a word of it!”

“Well, it’s true!” Feirn snapped, and he turned to stare at her. He could see the resemblance now. Maeve’s hair was darker, but it was certainly reddish. She had freckles, too, although not such a glorious abundance.

“And you want to be hostess at Valhal. That’s the payoff?”

“Yes. I mean no!”

“There’s a word for that, Citizen Feirn. It’s called
whoring
!”

White-faced, she sat down on the couch and stared at him. He stared back.

“I know you’re not really like this, you know,” she said sharply.

“Like what?”

“Rude and arrogant, and all those things. I know that what happened between you and Mother made you twisted and bitter, and that before that you didn’t hide your real self under that hard shell. I know you’ve had hundreds of girls here at Valhal, always hunting desperately to find a replacement for the one you really loved, but that’s not the true Vaun at all, and basically you’re a very loving, considerate—”

“Oh, for Krantz’s sake! I suppose your dizzy mother put that crap into your pretty little head?”

Feirn was on her feet now, and yelling shrilly. “I thought you wanted to! I wouldn’t force my body on anyone. I’m sorry if you find my request insulting, or demeaning, or think I’m too skinny. Maeve said she thought you were looking for a hostess, and I knew I could do that job all right because I’ve watched her running Arkady, and as for the sex part, well, she’s always said you were the finest lover she’s ever known, so I didn’t think you’d mind teaching me…I didn’t think it was such a great favor I was asking—you looked like you wanted to
eat
me! Spacer officers are always chasing after girls. Or boys. I mean the girl officers chase boys. I thought a spacer—”

“Don’t call me that!” he shouted. “I’m not one of them!”

“What? But…”

Krantz in a jug! What was he saying?

“Well, I am, of course.” He had graduated from Doggoth. He was the Patrol’s great hero. Of course he was a spacer. “It’s just that…well, you made me think of that band of horrors that Roker has with him…”

Wild stock. Lust-crazed. But he’d never met anything quite like this mixed-up child before. And as for that ensign…“Does Blade know why you came here, or did he believe the interview story?”

Her anger faded into sad resignation. “Oh, he guessed right away. He said it would be good for me, and he didn’t mind waiting if you wanted me to be hostess here for a year or two. He’s very reliable, Blade, even if he is a little bit humorless. And I do wish I hadn’t messed all this up.”

She stooped to pick up Vaun’s shirt and walked over to the door and pushed it at him in silence. For a moment he just stared at her, the shirt still clutched between them, fingers touching. He could see no guile in her jewel-bright eyes, blue and glistening. He discovered that he was inclined to believe her.

No spy, just crazy, and he felt that strange protective urge again.

“You didn’t mess it up, Feirn,” he said softly. “It was Roker did that.”

She smiled with relief like a child forgiven. “Tonight, then? Not hostessing…but tonight, Vaun, please will you make love to me?”

God in Heaven! “Yes, if you want.”

“Oh, thank you.”

She had an innocence that was totally alien to him. Mixed-up, yes. Not especially smart, no. Sweet, but yet determined in her way. Ruthless, even, for she had no idea how cruelly she was torturing Blade. Maeve should have told…but Maeve did not like Blade.

Tonight,…he had better go back to the medic.

The sound of boots interrupted Vaun’s thoughts—as if sum moned by those thoughts, Ensign Blade was marching across the terrace toward him.