The Abulon Dance (7 page)

Suddenly, urgently, Triani slammed into him. Cham clung tightly, his eyes closed, tears caught on his lashes as the assault went on. When Triani lay still, Cham opened his eyes again and smiled. He felt Triani’s long, shuddering breaths all through him, felt the withdrawal of his sex, the softening of his nipples, the thumping of his heart. Cham let his own sex emerge at last, seeking union with his lover.

Triani ignored the signal. “Look what I have to do to get a smile out of you,” he said.

“Rough, isn’t it?” Cham pulled his face closer and kissed the side of his mouth.

Triani ran his long fingers through the pale, gold hair. “Come on, baby. We can’t lie around on the floor all day. Time for work.”

“But love…” Cham’s voice trailed off. Triani was already heading for the little bathroom. Swallowing his hurt and sexual frustration, Cham got to his feet and followed, resignedly.

When they were dressed, Cham sat at Triani’s make-up table brushing his hair and watching his lover in the mirror. His heart felt painfully full of tenderness in spite of what had just happened. He wondered if he would ever understand Triani. The story of the drowned dog would have to wait now. He dropped the brush in his bag and stood up. Triani was right behind him. His hand caught the back of Cham’s neck, his fingers in the long hair.

“It’s not going to be easy in there, baby,” he said. “Don’t let me down. And don’t ever let them see you cry.” He brushed the soft cheek with a kiss. “Knock ’em dead, sweetie. You can do it!”

Cham felt his heart turn over. At that moment he would happily have died for Triani. He reached for his hand, raised it to his lips, gently sucked the tips of the fingers, one by one. His eyes never left the loved face.

“Shit. You’re one sexy kid.”

Cham kissed the inside of Triani’s wrist, turned without a word and went out the door.

* * *

Cham was the first one back at their apartment. He was trembling with the effort at self-control. He poured himself a tall glass of Merculian mint wine and stood by the window, his forehead resting against the cool glass. Every few sips he would close his eyes and take several deep breaths. If only Triani would come home. To keep busy, he washed in the small pool that was constantly filling with warm water, dressed in a pale blue robe and put on the gold collar Triani had given him for his sixteenth birthday. He laid out some of the Merculian delicacies they had brought from home on the long, low table and placed silver candles down the middle. He put two furry cushions on the floor, side by side. He shut the dog in the bedroom. With everything done, he knelt in a corner of the huge sofa that nearly filled one wall, both small hands clamped tightly around the riot of fruit carved along the back.

Today was the first time he had danced with the company. He was physically and mentally exhausted. It wasn’t the dancing that had done it, but the constant emotional drain of feeling hostile eyes on him, knowing they were just waiting for him to make a mistake; ready to pounce if the star’s little darling made one slip. No one said a word but their resentment and jealousy were heavy on the air. Triani had warned him. “You’re not going to be popular, baby.” But Cham hadn’t expected hatred. It wasn’t just because of his relationship with Triani, although that was a big part of it; but because of his extreme youth and great talent. But now Cham wondered if he could take this kind of constant pressure.

No one had befriended him. The only bright spot had come during a break, from an unexpected source. Cham knelt alone in the wings, adjusting a slipper when a comforting arm was draped over his shoulder. Surprised, he looked up into the wide, blue eyes of Eulio Chazin Adelantis.

“Remember, you’re on that stage because the director of this company thinks you’re good enough.”

“But Triani asked him,
chai
.”

“Triani got you an audition. You got yourself the rest of the way. Remember that, Chamion.”

Cham smiled for the first time. “Now I know why
Chai
Benvolini loves you so,” he said shyly.

Eulio flushed slightly and got to his feet. “Don’t get cheeky with me, child. And don’t let them get you down.” After the rehearsal, when Cham went to the dressing room he shared with three others, they all stopped talking. They made him so nervous he didn’t want to change in front of them. He pulled his red pants over the tights, got into his boots and shrugged into the lacy shirt. He wanted to scream at them, to make them acknowledge him but he was afraid he would cry if he said anything at all. He picked up his bag and left. As the door closed, he heard one of them say loudly; “They share a bed, why can’t they share a dressing-room, for god’s sake! Why crowd us?”

Cham stared at the carvings of the alien fruit. Why do they want to hurt me? he wondered. When he felt the touch of Triani’s long fingers on the back of his neck, he let out his breath in a sigh.

“It was rough, baby. I know.” Triani sat down close behind him. “I couldn’t get away any sooner. I’m sorry.” He caressed the pale flaxen curls. “You’ve got to let it out. Don’t let them chew you up inside. Come on.” His hand moved soothingly over Cham’s back.

Cham gulped and with a sudden twist of his body, buried his face in Triani’s neck. All during that awful rehearsal he had longed for these arms around him, for the comforting strength of Triani’s body against his. Finally he let the tears come. Triani rocked him gently in his arms. “The bastards,” he muttered and kissed the top of his head. “I’m proud of you, Chami. You didn’t make one mistake.”

Cham clung to him for a long time as the tension gradually drained away.

Finally Triani said softly, “You okay, now, lover? I’m starving.”

Cham laughed a little shakily and wiped his eyes. “Do you want some wine?”

“You go wash your face, sweetie. I’ll pour it.”

When Cham came back, he sat on the cushion beside Triani and took a sip of wine. “I’ve got something to tell you,” he began.

“Baby, it’ll never be as bad again as it was today.”

“I don’t mean the rehearsal. Something happened at the picnic.”

“You laid the girl.”

“Be serious.” Cham looked at him reproachfully. “This is really weird. While we were walking in a field, we found one of those big watch dogs drowned in a stream. His middle eye had come out. Except it wasn’t an eye. It was a video camera.”

Triani stared at him, his glass half way to his lips. “Shit! Those bloody sneaks! Talk about invasion of privacy!” He jumped to his feet and looked around for his boots. “Holy shit! If I’m going to be in the porno business, I’m sure as hell going to get paid for it! Where can I find the Chief? And where’s that shitty dog now?”

Cham was on his feet, clinging to his arm. “Please, Triani! It’s ten o’clock at night! We can’t go to the Great Chief now! It’s pitch black out there! The dog is in the bedroom,” he added.

“Well, he’s not going to be there tonight,” muttered Triani, sitting down and picking up his wine. Cham knelt beside him. “You don’t have to say anything about the girl, do you? I mean, it’s not really necessary and besides, I think she’ll get into a lot of trouble if her parents find out she was alone with me.”

“Well, well! If it isn’t the Merculian Menace!” laughed Triani. “What do you care anyway? It was her idea.”

“I know, but still….” Cham sighed. “Everything I do here seems to come out…wrong.”

Triani made a sound of annoyance and tossed off the rest of his wine. “Come on. We’ll tell Benvolini the whole thing and see if he can keep her out of it. He’s the Ambassador. It’s his problem.”

Cham was not looking forward to a recital of his private picnic in front of Benvolini and Eulio. It occurred to him that not only Quana might get into trouble over this, but there was nothing for it but to take Triani’s hand and follow him to the Ambassador’s apartment.

Even before the door opened they could hear the music. The male android who stood there had his name on a silver disk around his neck, spelt out in the Merculian alphabet because Eulio found it hard to remember.

“My masters are occupied, lords,” he said solemnly, holding the outer door open with one large hand. “So I hear.” Triani pushed the door further open and sailed in, his black velvet robe brushing lightly against the android. Someone was playing the Merculian pipes, and judging from the results, it could only be Eulio. His mother, a well-known maker of the instruments, had taught him at an early age. Wild and achingly sweet, the clear notes sounded from the other room. A high, crystalline soprano sang along with the instrument, weaving a counter-melody around it. The voice hesitated, stopped. Laughter filled the sudden space before they started over again. Triani said; “This is urgent. Call
Chai
Benvolini at once.”

The android did not move. “I cannot, lord. They said not to disturb.”

“Oh shit,” said Triani. He marched past the anxious android and thumped on the inner door with his fist.

The music stopped. The door opened.

“What the bloody damn…” Beny was holding a tall glass. His turquoise tunic hung open and his feet were bare. Behind him, Triani could see Eulio sitting on the raised platform by the pool, one bare leg dangling in the water as he held the gilded Merculian pipes close to his chest. His lavender robe was bunched up around his thighs. He leaned his head against the wall and squinted up at Triani. He was a little drunk. He always maintained he played better that way.

Triani spread his hands placatingly. “Hi, Benvolini, sweetie. I’m sorry to bother you. I really am. But this is important. Cham has something to tell you.”

“At this hour?”

“I know. It’s late. Dhakan, why don’t you take the brute for a walk, okay sweetie?”

The android remained impassive. He didn’t move.

“He looks like he wants to pee. Don’t you think so, Benvolini?” Triani went on. He gestured with one hand and touched Beny’s arm for a moment, holding the contact.

Beny’s pupils dilated slightly. He fastened his tunic, picked up his belt from the floor, smoothed his bright curls. “Dhakan, Triani’s right. Take him out, please.”

The android bowed at once, grabbed the dog by its collar and headed for the door.

“This had better be good, Triani.”

“But what do they want, darling?” Eulio complained as Beny helped him to his feet. When nobody answered, he scooped up a bottle of wine and followed them to the other room. He sank languidly into a sofa and delicately crossed his ankles. “If you hauled yourself away from your sweet, juvenile games at this hour, Triani darling, it must be important indeed.”

“Watch it, baby!” Triani scowled at him but Eulio only laughed.

“Not now, you two,” said Beny, wearily. He moved behind the sofa where Eulio lay. “What’s this all about? What have you got to tell me, Chamion?” Cham cleared his throat. His round, grey eyes flicked to Triani, then back to the Ambassador. He told his story to Benvolini. Wringing his hands in his earnestness, he begged him not to reveal Quana’s name. At last he showed him the green lens of the video eye.

The Ambassador’s face turned a flaming red.

Eulio lay unmoving on the sofa while the color slowly drained from his cheeks. “God’s teeth, Orosin!” He reached for Beny’s hand.

Beny sank down beside Eulio. “I suspect we’re not the only ones they’ve been watching,” he began calmly, studying the inlaid pattern of the wooden floor. “I’ve seen many of these animals around in the short time I’ve been here. The bedroom aspect is probably nothing but an unexpected fringe benefit for them. I’m sure that’s not the reason for this elaborate scheme. They want to study us, our habits, our way of speaking to each other, what we talk about and what we say about them behind their backs.”

“Audio-visual teaching aids, sweetie?”

“Something like that. By the way, Chamion. Did you tell Triani your plans about the picnic with the girl?”

“Of course,
chai
. Last night.”

“With the dog watching? I’m afraid the identity of your friend is already known.”

Cham pounded the arm of his chair and swore. “It’s not your fault,” said Triani.

Beny got to his feet. “Thank you both for coming to me with this. Just keep the bloody damn dog out of the way for now and I’ll tell the others to do the same. Tomorrow we’ll have the video eye disconnected.”

“Anything to oblige.” Triani draped his arm over Cham’s shoulder. “Come on, child. Playtime.”

SIX

“Are you positive this is important?” Thar-von’s voice crackled sharply from the small communication device in Beny’s hand.

“Bloody damn, Von, don’t make me give you an order!”

“I’ll be there in five minutes.”

Eulio had fallen asleep on the sofa. Beny woke him up. “Go to bed,
chaleen
. This will take awhile.”

“I’m sorry I can’t stay and help, but I’m so very tired.”

“So am I,” muttered Beny. He helped himself to one of Eulio’s short-term stimulants and went back to the other room to pace.

Thar-von arrived fully and impeccably dressed in exactly five minutes. He bowed.

“What’s the matter?” asked Beny warily.

“I fail to understand why every Merculian crisis has to occur close to midnight,” he replied, his voice tight. Beny was shaking with fatigue. As a Merculian, he needed many more hours of sleep than Thar-von did. He found it very difficult to keep his objectivity and the stimulant played havoc with his nerves. He turned away from the man he had considered a good friend for years and sat down on one of the many fur-covered chairs.

“I do not control the times of the crises,” he said as calmly as he could. “I apologize if I have inconvenienced you. Sit down. Please.”

Thar-von took the chair opposite him and bent his head to listen as Beny carefully related Cham’s story.

“Does that rate Serpian approval as a genuine crisis?” he finished acidly.

Thar-von blinked. “As I see it, the main problem is that they did not inform us before hand. Otherwise, I can see the watch dogs as a fine invention. They could take children to school and bring people home safely late at night. They could do guard duty and crowd control. Mine goes running with me early in the morning. Now I will feel doubly secure.”