Lady Lure (34 page)

“Request is incomprehensible,” the computer
responded. “Restate design preference more exactly.”

Perri did so, describing the robe as she
recalled it, asking for the pale green shade she wanted and adding
gold embroidery at neck and sleeves.

“Is footwear also required?” the computer
asked.

“Yes. Mules, low heeled, in a color to match
the robe,” Perri said at once before the computer could ask more
questions. Under happier conditions, she knew she would have
enjoyed the session with a machine programmed to give her whatever
clothing she could imagine.

“Specify other accessories,” the computer
said.

Perri thought for a moment. She had never
owned any jewelry. Such adornments were considered highly
inappropriate for unwed Regulan females, though married women were
encouraged to flaunt their husbands’ wealth with multiple
necklaces, bracelets, and rings. Perri did not want to wear
anything even vaguely Regulan in style.

“I want Demarian earrings, gold with green
stones. My ears are not pierced. No other accessories are
wanted.”

“Processing will require three minutes.
Please close the wardrobe door and wait for the light to flash
before reopening it.”

Perri did as ordered, then wandered around
the cabin, occasionally glancing at the silent clothing-processing
unit, but mostly wondering what would happen to her and to Rolli.
She was certain her future would hold no cell as attractive as her
present accommodation.

“I may as well enjoy what I have until they
take it away from me,” she said to herself.

When the light shone forth on the wardrobe
door, Perri held her breath in expectation and pulled it open. The
robe she had requested hung there, its soft, pale green folds
gleaming when she removed it. The gold thread embroidery along the
edges of the sleeve hems looked as if it was stitched by hand. A
wider band of gold threads in a similar pattern bordered the high
neckline and the slit that reached to well below her bosom. Tiny
buttons made of gold thread fit into a series of golden loops to
hold the front of the robe together. The garment fit her perfectly,
as did the shoes.

The earrings were like no jewelry she had
ever seen before. When she put them on, thin golden wires swirled
over her ears, with tiny, milky green stones dangling from the
wires here and there and one larger green stone hanging at each
earlobe. Tossing the waves of her dark red hair over her shoulder
to better display the earrings, Perri stared at her reflection in
the mirror.

“Is this the way Demarian women dress? Do the
men enjoy seeing their mates like this?” The computer did not
answer her. It had automatically turned itself off as soon as
Perri’s requests had been fulfilled. But there was an unexpected
sound, a quiet chime that came from the direction of the door.
Perri hastened across the room to press the panel Dysia had shown
her how to use. The chime stopped when the door slid back.

“May I come in?” Halvo asked.

“Please do.” Perri stepped aside and Halvo
entered. He was followed by a young man in Jurisdiction uniform who
was guiding a covered antigrav table.

“By the window, I think,” Halvo said to the
young man. “Lower it to chair height and take the cover with
you.”

“Yes, sir.”

Perri watched in silence while the table and
chairs were positioned as Halvo wanted and the cover removed from
the table. At Halvo’s signal the young man saluted and left. Halvo
followed him to the door, which he sealed so no one could enter
unless admitted from within. Then, before he returned to Perri’s
side, Halvo dimmed the lighting to a shade approximating dusk.

“I thought you might like company for
dinner,” he said in a casual way.

“How charming. I notice the guards are still
at my door. Did Captain Jyrit order them posted there, or was it
your mother?”

“I cannot deny that you are a prisoner.
However, we do not plan to torture you,” he added in a dry way that
she suspected was meant to make her laugh.

“What a relief.” Perri did not know why she
did not respond to his humor or why she snapped at him when what
she really wanted was to go into his arms and be reassured that he
cared about her.

“Shall we eat before our meal grows cold?”
Giving no indication that he was annoyed by her attitude, Halvo
gestured at the table floating between the two easy chairs at a
level exactly right for dining.

“What is this?” Perri regarded the pale blue
cloth, the crisp white napkins, the temptingly arranged food on
delicate ceramic plates, the crystal and silver. Tiny lights burned
in low, cut-crystal holders. A bouquet of blue, yellow, and white
flowers completed the setting. Perri sniffed at the fragrant odors
of a well-cooked meal. “I thought food was provided by the ship’s
computer.”

“It is.” Halvo moved to stand behind one of
the chairs. “There is also a galley, where traditional food can be
prepared by those who prefer it.”

“You never made this yourself.”

“There is an excellent cook aboard. Jyrit is
something of a gourmet, though I do not think you would care for
Jugarian specialities. This meal is Demarian, with some of my
favorite dishes. Will you sit?”

He was still holding the back of the chair,
and Perri realized there was some ceremony involved. She sat, and
after making certain she was close enough to the antigrav table,
Halvo took his own seat.

“Regulans don’t do that?” He shot her a
knowing glance. When she did not respond at once, he lifted a
decanter of wine and began to pour it into the tall, stemmed
glasses.

“A Regulan man would consider it demeaning to
hold a chair so a woman could sit more easily. I am beginning to
comprehend how badly Regulan women are treated. The more I see of
the respect accorded to women of other Races, the more angry I
become. This is delicious,” Perri ended on a note of surprise,
tasting a thin slice of meat. She chewed and swallowed, then took
another forkful, adding a bit of grainy vegetable.

“Roasted peloron fowl and wild hairgrass.”
Halvo attacked the meat on his own plate with enthusiasm. “If you
think this is good, just wait until dessert. We are having stewed
rockfruit.”

“I will try to contain my impatience.”

“Don’t wrinkle up your nose like that.” Halvo
laughed at her. “It is called rockfruit because it grows only in
rocky areas and when it’s dug out of the ground it is as hard as
the rocks. After it is stewed for several hours and sliced open, it
has the taste and consistency of a very rich custard, but it
contains no fat, just a lot of necessary vitamins. The first human
settlers on Demaria lived on it for months, until they could start
their farms and bring the crops to harvest. Now, it is our official
planetary dish and an important export.”

“I didn’t know that story,” Perri said.

“You may eat it with crushed nuts on top or
with a berry sauce,” Halvo said. As he spoke he was removing their
empty plates to a compartment under the table. From another
compartment he produced a pair of green crystal bowls, each sitting
on a matching crystal plate. The rockfruit in the bowls looked to
Perri like a yellow-fleshed melon. The berry sauce she chose
dribbled into the small seed cavity in the center, where it mixed
with the fruit when she spooned it up.

“Well?” Halvo watched her as she took her
first bite.

“It is every bit as wonderful as you
promised.”

“I am glad you like it. And I am even happier
to see you smile again, if only for a minute.” Reaching across the
table, Halvo took the hand that was not holding her spoon.

“I don’t have much to smile about, do I?”

“Perhaps more than you think.” Halvo’s hand
tightened on Perri’s. “I know how you hate being left in ignorance,
but there are times when it is best to be discreet until certain
delicate matters have been resolved.”

“That statement tells me nothing.” She tried
to pull her hand out of his, but he only exerted a firmer
pressure.

“I don’t mean to sound like a mealy-mouthed
diplomat,” Halvo said. “It is just that I have learned from past
experience when to keep silent. You have trusted me before, Perri.
Trust me now. It won’t be for long.”

His voice was low. She could see in his face
and his eyes just how serious he was. There was only one answer she
could give him.

“I do trust you, Halvo.”

“I will not desert you.”

Perri knew it was a solemn oath that Halvo
had just spoken. What she did not know was the state of his
feelings toward her. As an honorable man he might feel no more than
a sense of responsibility for the ignorant girl who had been
tricked into abducting him. But she did not want his pity. She
wanted his love.

Halvo rose from the table, the hand he still
held pulling Perri up after him. And then she was in his arms, his
mouth was on hers, and though she might question his feelings, she
had no doubt about what he wanted.

She thought of refusing him, but only for a
moment. If she sent him away she would be hurting herself, too,
perhaps more than she hurt Halvo. She loved him passionately,
totally, without knowing how warm or how lasting his desire for her
was.

Nor could she guess how long she would remain
relatively free and able to make love with him. The worst torture
Perri could imagine was being sent to a prison planet far removed
from Halvo, never to see him again. Or touch him. Or hear his
voice.

I will enjoy what I have until they take
it away from me.
Silently, as if they were a magical
incantation, she repeated to herself the words she had said
earlier.

With his arm at her waist Halvo drew her to
the bed. Perri’s heart beat faster and she sensed a warming deep
inside her. Halvo put one knee on the bed. Perri remained standing
close to him, within the circle of his arm.

“Your beautiful eyes reveal everything you
are feeling.” Halvo kissed each lid. “They tell me how much you
want me.”

“I won’t deny it.” Perri felt like crying to
know she was so transparent to him. She stood perfectly still,
letting him kiss the softness of her cheek.

“But this jewelry must go,” he murmured, “so
I can taste your delicious ears.”

“I asked the computer to give me Demarian
earrings. I thought you would like the way they look.”

“I do.” His mouth curved upward in amusement.
“However, I prefer not to have my nose scratched when I am making
love.” Halvo gently removed the earrings.

“The robe is also most becoming, but it, too,
is a hindrance,” he whispered, working at the fastenings between
her breasts until the buttons were all undone and he could push the
fabric aside. It slipped lightly to the floor. Perri was wearing
nothing underneath. Halvo stared at her, taking in every detail of
her delicate yet womanly figure. Then he grasped a thick lock of
her dark red hair and pulled it forward until it fell over her
shoulder and down across her breast.

Perri trembled a little, wanting him, wishing
she dared to say aloud how much she loved him. She stayed where she
was at the foot of the bed until Halvo had undressed and pulled
down the covers. When he bent across the bed and put out his hands,
Perri laid both of hers into them. Halvo yanked and Perri went
tumbling down onto the cool white sheets. Halvo fell on top of
her.

The touch of his warm skin on hers inflamed
her senses. She loved the way the rough hair on his legs rubbed
against her smoother limbs, loved the tingling sensation of his
manly chest pressed on her sensitive breasts. Best of all she loved
his fingers weaving through her hair, holding her head in just the
right position so he could fit his lips over hers. She welcomed the
surge of his tongue into the eager heat of her mouth, rejoiced in
the hardness that prodded at her thigh.

She wrapped her arms around him, wanting him
closer. She shifted her hips, opening to him and Halvo slid into
her as easily and naturally as a sunrise – or a fierce,
planet-shaking storm. He drenched her with passion and with
unceasing kisses. He touched her in places that made her think he
must be a contortionist to be able to reach there – and there –
until she shook and heaved and cried out for more – and deeper –
and harder.

“Please. Please.” She gasped.

Halvo found just the right place and exactly
the rhythm and pressure she needed. She heard him groan with
pleasure a moment before she lost all perception of time or place
and joined him in a sublime union of bodies and, on her part at
least, of heart and mind as well. Only very slowly did Pern’s
surroundings resolve themselves once more into two people, a bed,
and a spaceship cabin.

Halvo stayed with her all night, though
strictly speaking, in space there was neither night nor day.

“Ship’s time,” he said. “Humans require day
and night to follow each other in the steady cadence demanded by
our bodies and our minds. Without that rhythm we suffer, fall ill,
and occasionally die. Other species seem to adapt more easily to
different schedules, which is why most spaceships maintain a
twenty-four-hour day or something as close to it as possible. And
at the moment, it is nearly midnight by the
Krontar’s
time.”

He made love to her again later and it was
even more wonderful than the first time, but to Perri the important
part of that night was in the long hours when they lay quietly in
each other’s arms, talking in soft, disjointed phrases. Though they
were still in the Empty Sector, she suffered no bad dreams that
night but slept peacefully at last, curled up against Halvo’s
warmth and strength.

“Do I have to stay in this cabin until we
reach Capital?” Perri asked.

“Where were you planning to go if you should
be allowed to leave it?” Halvo lounged back against the pillows, a
mug of qahf in one hand, a chunk of brown Demarian bread in the
other. The sheet was loosely thrown across his loins as protection,
he had told Perri, against the possibility of spilled hot qahf,
since she persisted in bouncing about the bed in a dangerous
manner.