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Despite her promise, the Lady Calinda was polite but quiet through the rest of the evening. She made her apologies and departed the dining hall with the Harrington’s promptly at the two-hour bell. Dane felt a mixture of disappointment and relief as he watched her go.
Katara and Rijkard meanwhile were now lingering over the last of their after dinner port. Dane’s meal had been excellent and he sat back in his chair, his various appetites mostly satisfied, eyeing the two men and listening to their conversation with curiosity.
“But doctor, no expedition has returned from the Sol system for two centuries, since the Earthmen took her behind the Shield. What makes you think the Court will fund an expedition now?”
“Precisely because it has been so long, my young man! Perhaps on Jalesh they have no interest in mankind’s origins, but I assure you on Corant it has been talked about for years!”
“And how much closer are you to getting your funding?”
The doctor responded by draining his glass of port. Katara turned to Dane.
“You see, Cochrane? Useless. If the Crown will not support it, the families of the Kallaket won’t. So progress stops, growth rates decline, and we stagnate at an empire of a hundred Habitable Worlds.”
Dane couldn’t resist the opening, a smile breaking across his lips as he spoke. “Perhaps then the Katara’s of Jalesh should fund it all on their own.”
Katara wagged his finger at Dane in response. “You’re a sly one, you,” he turned back to the doctor. “If we had the money, and if we were so inclined, it might be a project we could take on one day, with partners, like Sire Dane here.”
The doctor eyed Katara “Would you? Fund the expedition, I mean? And you Cochrane, does it strike your fancy?”
Dane smiled. “It does, doctor. The origins of man on Earth have always interested me, and exo-archeology was one of my minor areas of study at the Academy. But I am not the Director yet, and neither is my good friend Sunil.”
“Precisely!” Katara slapped the table for emphasis and stood, a bit wobbly, then steadied himself by placing one hand on the table. “Doctor, the conversation seems to have led to me consuming too much of a good thing. Would you care to continue this discussion in my stateroom? My father has amply provided for our every need, and I believe Sire Cochrane here has decided to lament the loss of his evening’s companion, and will no doubt brood on it through the entire jump.”
The doctor stood. “Surely, my young man. And a good evening to you, Sire,” He bowed formally to Dane and then lit another cigar as he turned to go. Katara looked to Dane.
“Last chance,” he said, with a tilt of the head.
Dane smiled, then rose to shake his hand. “Good night, Sunil. I will take you up on that offer of a visit to Jalesh sooner than you think.”
“I’ll look forward to it,” Katara shook Dane’s hand vigorously and then he and the doctor departed the dinner lounge, still in conversation as they went. The hostesses were now busily converting the dining deck into a lounge, which it would function as during the ships “day”.
Dane emptied his glass and glanced at his watch in anticipation of the jump; three-quarters of an hour to go. He unbuttoned his waistcoat and loosened his shirt collar as he started for the lifters, sauntering slowly, hands in pockets, thinking about what might have been with the Lady Calinda. He was rounding the final bend near the rear of the observation deck when he saw her sitting alone in one of the window booths.
She sat with her chin resting in her hand, staring out at the starscape with what Dane fancied was a lonely look on her face. He changed course towards her immediately. As he approached, she remained oblivious to him, the auburn evening gown a rich beacon among the white dinner tablecloths. He stopped in front of the booth, noting a bottle of liquor and two glasses on the table, then placed his hands in his pants pockets and affected a casual stance.
“I expected you had retired for the evening,” he said.
She turned at the sound of his voice, smiling brightly at him, obviously pleased.
“You may find your expectations are turned on their head with me, Sire Cochrane,” she said, her voice low and seductive. He smiled back at her brashness.
“I’ve no doubt of that,” he replied. She was quite different from the brooding diner companion with whom he had parted company barely more than an hour ago. He was fully intrigued with her again. “So tell me Lady, what brings you here so close to the jump?”
She sighed, then affected a pout. “I found I was quite bored in my cabin. So I decided to come back to the lounge and see if I could rendezvous’ with you again, but out of sight of our dinner guests. A Lady must keep her reputation intact under today’s social mores. You understand.”
Dane nodded. “Of course.”
Her smile turned into a satisfied grin. She patted the seat next to her in the booth. “Come and sit with me. I believe it’s time I gave you a proper apology.”
His eyebrows went up in surprise. “But you had all night to do that.”
She gave him a look of impatience. “Quit being so difficult and come sit here, I won’t offer again,” This time she moved over in the booth to give him room.
He took his hands from his pants and bowed formally to her. “And who am I to refuse a Lady my company?”
She pointed to the leather seat with her finger in impatience. “Sit.”
Dane slid in next to her, unable to wipe the smile from his face. She ignored the overt pleasure he was taking from being in her company and offered the liquor bottle in front of her to him. “This is my family brandy. We’re fine distillers on our home world. We export to dozens of nearby systems. I was hoping you’d join me in a drink, as a means of fulfilling my obligation to you.”
Dane straightened proudly in the seat. “A gentleman would never hold a lady to an obligation that she did not wish to fulfill.”
She cocked her head at him playfully. “I never said I didn’t wish to fulfill it. And now suddenly I find you are a gentleman? Forgive me if I’m disappointed at that.”
He laughed. “Perhaps we should do away with the formalities and you should just pour the brandy.”
“Common sense at last!” She filled both their glasses a third full, then handed one to Dane while taking the other.
He lifted his glass to her. “To what shall we drink?” She pondered a moment, then:
“To pleasant apologies.”
He grinned, then they touched glasses with a gentle clink. “Pleasant apologies it is.”
He watched as she brought the brandy to her lips and drank deeply, keeping her eyes squarely on him. He matched her drink, the smooth glow of the brandy warming him, then carefully set his glass down next to hers. When he returned his attention to her he found she was searching his face, eyes darting back and forth as if she sought the answer to some unspoken question in him. He spoke gently to her.
“What is it, Calinda?”
She sighed heavily, the gentle candle glow playing across her face, then without a word she leaned in slowly and kissed him. He felt the softness of her lips on his, the gentle flick of her tongue a sensual delight in his mouth. He could taste the brandy as they mingled, the sweet scent of her perfume filling his senses. She pulled back from him and he waited anxiously on her next action. He felt unusually uncertain in the presence of such a beautiful woman. She looked down to her brandy and took another drink, then sat back, avoiding his gaze.
“I’m not usually that forward,” she said quietly. “But something about you has made me forget my manners more than once tonight.”
He stroked the back of her hand with his fingers, hoping to reassure her. “Your manners are fine, Lady.”
She looked to him again. “Then you have forgiven me?”
He nodded. “Apology accepted, Lady.”
An awkward silence fell then as she turned her attention back to the starscape, staring distantly.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she said.
They pondered together a moment, she intent on the stars, Dane intent on her.
“Yes, it is,” he agreed. Calinda’s cheeks flushed just a bit. She looked down at the table, speaking in a quiet voice, as if she was wary of someone in the near-empty lounge overhearing her.
“When I booked this voyage, I had hoped that I would meet someone special, someone to help me forget my recent difficulties.”
Dane brushed back a lock of hair from her face. “And have you?”
She smiled at him and nodded. “Yes,” He returned her smile, then leaned in and kissed her. She responded to his approach by moaning softly, her lips demanding his, grasping him ever more tightly as he explored the sumptuous curves of her body. They lingered together a long time before she pulled back, her quick and shallow breathing revealing a deep passion in her that both surprised and pleased him with its intensity.
“How much longer until we make the first jump?” she asked between sharp breaths. Dane looked at his wristwatch.
“Twenty minutes,” he said.
“And how long until the next one after that?”
“About four hours,” he began to smile.
“Hmm, four hours. Whatever will we do for so long?” she teased. He drained his brandy and set the glass down on the table again. “Let’s go to my chambers.” He stood and took her by the hand as she hurriedly gathered her brandy bottle with the other, then led her to the private lifter, the glass doors closing silently behind them.
***
DANE FUMBLED FOR THE light switch in the dark, trying not to seem too foolish. There was a loud crack and the clinking of glasses as his leg bumped into a liquor table near the bed.
“Don’t bother,” said Calinda from behind him. “It’s here.” The room lights came on slowly, creating a twilight effect in the master bed chamber. Dane quickly took the brandy bottle and glasses out of her hands and returned to pour them another drink, setting the brandy down carefully for safety.
“I’m sorry that I don’t have more to offer you,” he said, holding a bottle up to the dim room lighting. “Most of my liquor is packed for the trip, but I’ve always wanted to try a Kanaris cognac, and there just happens to be one here in the bar.”
Dane turned to look at Calinda. She stood near the bed, seductively holding onto the bedpost with one hand. Her evening gown clung tightly to her generous body, the twilight effect illuminating her auburn hair from behind. He thought it made her seem dark and mysterious, a mystery he was craving to uncover.
He took the glasses and went over to her, handing her the drink as they sat together on the edge of the bed. Dane took a sip of his cognac and felt the almost immediate warming effect of the Exotic distillation process. Calinda sipped at her drink.
“Ooo. That’s wonderful,”
“Be careful. It’s an Exotic,” he said. “An intoxicant and aphrodisiac in one. I hope you don’t mind,” She answered by taking another sip. Dane set his glass down and began gently nuzzling her neck, tasting her warm skin as he went.
After a few moments of this she set her own glass on the bedside table, then pushed him down flat on the bed and rolled over on top of him, hair dangling in his face to tease him. She let out a small giggle and then sat back and slowly released her gown from behind, exposing the top of her breast but holding the gown on to intrigue him. Her eyes and lips glistened seductively in the artificial twilight.
“Am I... everything you’d hoped for?” she said. Dane nodded.
“And more. Much more.”
“Then show me.”
He moved to her slowly, tracing her face and neck with the back of his hand, then running along her collarbone, glancing across the top of her breast before finally touching and parting her lips with his fingers. She moaned in delight as he pulled her to him and kissed her, savoring her as he would a fine wine, the intoxicating glow of the Exotic washing over them. She pushed him back to the bed again and kissed her way down his neck to his chest and stomach, pausing only to remove his dinner jacket and shirt from her path, unfastening the buttons as she went.
Dane basked in the moment, breathing deeply, the stimulation of her warm tongue on his skin sending waves of pleasure through his body. Abruptly she stopped kissing him. He opened his eyes to look at her but she had turned her attention beyond the bed to a row of closets at the far end of the room.
He looked up in the same direction, a hint of motion snapping him to full clarity in the space of a second. Five years of military training kicked in without a thought, the effects of the alcohol gone in a rush of adrenaline, his whole being suddenly aware of imminent danger.
He broke their embrace, rolling onto his knees on the bed as he pulled his shirt and jacket back on and pushed Calinda behind him to protect her, looking in the direction of the motion. He counted six dark figures, all in black, faces fully covered in masks. They stood in front of a row of closets, no more than ten feet away, dark shadows in the twilight.
“Move away from the woman!” came a gravel voice from the dark. Dane’s eyes darted quickly about the room, looking for the source of the voice, trying to analyze the situation as fast as he could. He surmised that they must have entered through some sort of double doors in the closets. He also noted their uniforms; all black with a golden human eye symbol inlaid at the breast, glistening in the mood lighting.
PKI!
Calinda remained motionless but fully tensed behind him, as if she were as ready for action as he. The voice came a second time, loud enough for both of them to hear but intended not to be detected by any nearby listening devices.
“I said move away from the woman!”
This time Dane knew it was the one furthest away from him who had spoken. Foolishly, he moved towards the voice in anger, disregarding his training and intuition in a moment of youthful bluster. “What’s the meaning of this intrusion? I demand to know-“
A blinding flash stopped him short. He felt a thud against his chest, then a tingling sensation began to spread rapidly to his limbs.
Stungun!
He realized it too late, buckling over on to the bed as a second burst of light came, no doubt intended for Calinda. His vision blurred as he saw her fall forward to the floor, the room around him fading rapidly to black.
#
THE DARK FIGURE OF Arimel, agent of the PKI, ripped the mask from his face.
“Search them!” the order was like the whispered hiss of a snake. The five remaining dark figures descended on Dane and Calinda, a variety of sinister-looking electronic detection devices being deployed. Arimel paced the room nervously in silence for several moments while his underlings went about their task. One broke away from the pack to approach his master.
He carefully handed Arimel a small razor-sharp blade. “We found this on the royal woman.”
Arimel looked puzzled. “A poison lance?”
“We found it under the nail of her forefinger. It contains Donoret, a neural poison which travels up the central nervous system to the brain, causing damage virtually indistinguishable from an aneurism. Death is nearly instantaneous.”
Arimel laughed as loudly as he dared. “No doubt intended for our young master here! How exquisite! To die in the throes of passion!” He looked contemptuously at Dane. “It would have been a much better death than the one we’ll give him.”
The underling nodded.
“Take them to the holding cells,” Arimel ordered. I want to find out more about our royal assassin. It appears Sire Dane Cochrane of Quantar is even more unpopular than we thought. And leave no traces of our presence here. I want his death to be a permanent mystery to the rest of the Empire.”
“Understood.”
Then Arimel smiled a snake-smile of satisfaction, pivoted, and vanished back into the darkness from which he had come.