The Alien Trace [Cord 01] (14 page)

    "Try not to think about it" was all he could find to say. Grasping her hand in reassurance, his Fingers brushed her leg and the old longing rose in him.

    She seemed not to notice.

    "I can supply you with clothing from a dispenser. Your tail"-she caressed that member, which was resting beside Cord's leg-"would fit into a pair of loose trousers, wouldn't it? That would conceal your most noticeable difference. If you wear a cap or a cowl, that will conceal your ears. Your skin color is close enough to some of Ten Suns' employees that no one will pay attention to it."

    "Julia, if you think it will work, I will take your advice. But how can you get clothes to fit me without attracting attention to yourself?"

    "It is only a question of putting credit coins in the machine rather than my debit card." She shrugged. "And no one is likely to be at the dispenser now. If someone is, I will not make my selection until he is gone. But I will need to know your size." She smiled.

    "Can you measure me? Or guess?"

    Her hands bracketed his shoulders, then fell to his hips.

    "I never leave anything to chance. You are very lean," she added. "Tall, too. I think I can fit you."

    Cord did not know whether to be glad she was empathically deaf or to wish that she were an empath, so she would realize she was rousing desires in him which he could not satisfy. If she were Mehiran, if she shared his feelings, he would take her in his arms, press her down on the bed, and begin peeling that tight garment off her…

    Perhaps Julia McKay was experiencing similar sensations: her slim fingers skimmed over his groin and came to rest in his crotch.

    The gentle pressure made Cord gasp.

    "Julia," he said, concentrating very hard, "I'd like to discuss this with you, but there's no time. I've got to get to Bird before they start hurting her again." His ancestors grant that he get another chance like this when he had an opportunity to pursue it!

    "Don't worry," Julia said. "The head of security is a Kamean. They always rest after the noon meal. She won't be ready to resume for some while. And she will call me first, because I asked her to, and she promised to do so. She did not want to, but I argued and argued, and now, having given her word, she will keep it." Julia's fingers continued to roam.

    "I see." Distractedly he wondered what a Kamean was.

    "We have time," Julia said, stroking his tail again. "I want to find out what it's like, Cord. Since I left my own world, there's been no one I wanted. Mmmh," she murmured as Cord pulled her down on the bed.

    Shyly, Julia traced the seam in the front of her overall, and the fabric parted.

    Cord did not speak. He ran his hands under the open edge of her jacket, easing her out of it, so it slid down, exposing her shoulders, arms, and breasts. Then it was down around her hips and thighs. There was surprisingly long hair between her thighs, veiling her secret place, where a Mehiran woman would have only short, velvety fur. Gently he explored her with his fingers while her breathing became rapid. She moaned in pleasure and in anticipation of greater pleasure to come. In its pouch his organ throbbed and grew, pushing against its protective cave.

    Julia plucked at his clothing, trying to find unfamiliar fastenings. Quickly he pulled off his own suit and saw her eyes widen at the sight of his pouch parting to reveal the tip of the organ within. Slowly it snaked out.

    She licked her lips-fear or anticipation? Cord didn't know which. He'd shut down his mind out of deference to Julia's humanness.

    "You are so slender," she finally said. "I'm afraid I'll hardly feel you."

    Cord knew she was too kind and too innocent to mean it as a taunt, but her words stung him anyway. He did not want to hurt her-but he did want to prove she would feel it. He plunged into her and came down hard. He could feel the softness of her breasts and the way her hips rolled under his. The muscles inside her squeezed him, urging him on. Cord thrust again and again, feeling her back arch, feeling her muscles squeeze convulsively. He held back. He wanted her to cry out, to writhe more. Slowly he raised himself upright and hooked his knees around her thighs. He was almost out of her now, remaining only a fingerbreadth inside her warmth. Cord rotated his hips so that the tip of his organ tantalized her.

    Julia ran her tongue over her lips. The sight stirred Cord so much that he came close to filling her cup too soon, oh, far too soon. With an effort he controlled himself. He let his tail travel up under her buttocks in search of another orifice.

    When he penetrated her the second time, her whole body heaved in ecstasy.

    She laughed softly and raised her head. Her tongue flicked across his nipples. The moistness of her lips inflamed him.

    So she wanted to make him come before she did? It had become a contest between them, one which Cord meant to win. He renewed his efforts. She seemed to like it best when he paid no attention to her comfort, so Cord cast off the last of his scruples. The joy of subduing her blocked out every impulse to be gentle and considerate. It was easy not to care with shields up. He tried several variations: thrusting with both organ and tail simultaneously, thrusting and slightly withdrawing first one, then the other…

    "This is called the Horns," he whispered. "Feel how you are impaled. The Horns go deeper and deeper…"

    With volcanic force, Julia's slim body arched and she cried out. Cord, looking down at her, felt a rush of triumph hot as an eruption of semen. But he continued to plunge until she lay supine and panting. Only then he permitted himself to let go, to release the pressure that was growing unbearable.

    When he collapsed beside her, Cord was aware only of his shame.

    "I'm sorry. Please believe me, I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me." He drew her closer, hoping he had not harmed her.

    She rested her head against his shoulder drowsily.

    "I didn't intend it to be like that," he began again.

    "I know," she replied.

    Opening his shields, Cord detected nothing in her mind but her normal self-contained, almost imperceptible signal. He wasn't even sure she felt there was anything to forgive. He was not satisfied, however. He knew his behavior had been disgusting, shameful, and brutal. Maybe he was as bad as his people said Catchers were. Ancestors, maybe he was as bad as the humans!

    "I think," Julia remarked, disengaging herself from Cord's embrace and sitting up, "I ought to go and get you some clothes."

    She kicked off her shoes and the overall, which Cord had not succeeded in stripping all the way off, and walked into the next room. Moments later she emerged, looking and smelling fresh, and did something to one wall of the room. Drawers and a closet appeared. She took out a garment and began to dress.

    "If you wish to clean up, there are facilities for washing in there." She nodded toward the door from which she'd come. "Red for warmer, blue for cold, and green when you want to dry off."

    He did as she said. The cubicle filled with a warm, damp mist, but it must have been something more than mist, too, because it seemed to float sweat and dirt away, and to leave him refreshed. Touching the green control caused the mist to vanish. Cord wondered whether to expect warm air or a heat lamp. There was neither. Instead, he simply found that he was no longer damp.

    Emerging into the main room, he found Julia ready to leave.

    "I'll be right back," she told him briskly.

    Cord paced the room in restless anxiety. She could betray him so easily. Even if she didn't, he still had to rescue Bird, and he was beginning to feel that would be no small accomplishment.

    

    

    Julia McKay returned with a bundle.

    "These should fit. Put them on. I brought something else too. It occurred to me that you have that big box-I suppose you want to take it with you."

    "Yes, I'll need it." The problem had been worrying Cord. Always before, he and his parents had known what they were likely to need in a chase, so it had not been necessary to carry everything. Now he could not afford to leave any of it behind. Some might be useful if he needed goods or money- having failed to trade with the humans, it was likely he would-while others might be vital to his and Bird's survival.

    "In that case, my efforts were not wasted." Julia produced a small boxlike object with sliding grippers evidently meant to hold a crate firmly. Attached to it was a wire lead.

    "We'll have to get this under your box. Can you tilt it? Oh, thanks. The slides will contract to hold it. Now push the button on the handgrip."

    The equipment case floated gently to about Cord's waist level and hung there.

    "You'll have more mobility this way."

    "Yes, I see. Thank you, Julia. But won't someone notice it's missing?"

    'It's kept in an unlocked closet for use by anyone who needs to move something large or heavy. Its not being there won't be thought suspicious. What will cause people to wonder is how you will know where to find your friend. So I'll take you there, and we will pretend that you came to me- since we are known to be acquainted-and forced me to take you to the security department."

    "Will your people believe such a story?" Cord asked skeptically.

    "They are traders. They have no very high opinion of missionaries. They will think I was easily frightened. It is true that I am very timid."

    "I don't think so. I don't think I've ever met anyone like you."

    "Perhaps not," she responded. "Anyway, when you've got Bird, you can leave me-push me to one side; I'll seem to be stunned. But please don't let yourself be captured. Under questioning, you won't be able to keep from revealing who helped you."

    "I won't be caught. I can't. I have a responsibility to Bird."

    "Even if it means killing?"

    "With any luck at all, it won't come to that," Cord said, thinking of his anesthetic gun.

    Julia looked unconvinced. She had noticed the weapon, of course, but he had not mentioned it was nonlethal.

    "We should start," she said. "Can you break through locked doors?"

    "It may depend upon the lock."

    "They will all be like this one." She indicated the lock on her own door. "A burn ray would probably deactivate it in a second."

    "I have something which should work, but won't there be more complicated security devices where we are going? If it is used for prisoners…"

    "With a dangerous prisoner, they would use extra precautions. They did not bother in your friend's case. She is in restraints, after all, and as a rule that is enough. She can't free herself, and no one else would. Everyone in a trading port like this is psych-screened before assignment."

    Cord was stowing the cutter gun from his equipment chest in one of the pockets of his tunic. It had a loose cowl, which he pulled over his head.

    "Let's go," he said. Now that action was imminent, he was calm. Why not? He had been trained all his life for similar situations.

    They left Julia's room and proceeded to the nearest trans tube, Julia walking slightly in front of Cord. He casually held his right hand in his pocket. If anyone remembered seeing them afterward, it would seem that Julia had been his prisoner.

    Four levels down, they left the tube. Julia turned right and indicated to Cord that they would take the speedwalk. It rushed them along faster than they could have walked: so fast that Cord, glancing from side to side, could not take in their surroundings. When Julia led Cord off the walk, it appeared to Cord that they had traveled all the way to the far end of the building.

    The color of the walls and floor shifted to a bright orange-red, and ahead of them the hallway ended in a cul-de-sac.

    "This door." Julia spoke for the first time since leaving her room.

    Cord gave a quick glance around him. This was not a busy section. No one was in sight, none of the doors stood open. He tried the one before him experimentally. It was locked.

    "Hurry," Julia breathed.

    Cord withdrew the cutter and motioned Julia to stand aside. With the ray at its narrowest setting, he gave the trigger a brief squeeze. When he tried the door a second time it gave way.

    He slid it open and entered, cutter gun in hand. Julia, following him, slid the door shut.

    "In the next room," she told him.

    The outer room in which they stood was nothing more than an office. Cord passed through it in three strides. The next room was bare by contrast: just a large machine in one corner, and a metal table on which Bird lay. Heavy straps bound her wrists and ankles. She was pallid, and there were shadows beneath her golden eyes. She stared toward the door, cringing. Cord remembered too late that she could not have felt this approach, with his mind shielded as it so often was. Immediately he poured out reassurance.

    At the sight of him, Bird gasped.

    "It's all right," he said, working to free her hands. Julia struggled with the straps at Bird's ankles.

    "It's all right," he said again as he helped her sit up. Bird was shaking. She clung to him. Her hair had come loose from its braid, and she was unable to keep her voice steady enough to utter more than a word or two. Her emotions were a cascade of fear, apprehension, loathing. Cord had never known her to be so distraught, physically or mentally.

    "You'd better hurry," Julia said. She remained calm.

    "Can you walk?" he asked Bird.

    She continued to tremble but replied, "Yes."

    "Good, Bird. We'll be out of here in no time at all." He turned to Julia. "I don't know how to thank you. I couldn't have gotten this far without your help. Why don't you change places with Bird? When you're found it will be obvious that I forced you to bring me here, then left you bound."