Chapter 14
**
I find myself staring out the transparent viewport, out into the black of space. Points of fiery light flame all around us, and I wonder what the star names are. It looks different than they show it in the movies, I think, crossing my arms. It’s cold. Cold and empty. Unbidden, some of Yolande’s poetry comes to mind, and I shiver. She definitely got the moods right on the ones I remember.
Andri breaks into my dark thoughts cheerfully. "Rosta says Alois is hungry again, Erin."
"He’s always hungry; he’s a Draka," I sigh, turning from the viewport. The tall, lithe servus grins at me, and rolls his eyes.
"Aren’t they though? If not for one thing…" he shrugs his shoulders, "it’s another."
"I’ll go feed him before he gnaws a hole in the hull or something," I smile, and pat Andri on one of his firmly-muscled shoulders as I walk by.
I walk slowly, carefully, down the main aisle, making semi-formal bows to the various high-ranking Draka officials, some of whom return the gesture of submission with a friendly wave, or a smile. A few don’t seem to notice me at all, but they’d sure as heck notice if I didn’t do it, I wryly say to myself. You bet. Rosta and the baby are in the aft compartment; he’s beginning to babble loudly as I step through the hatch.
"I’m glad you’re here, Sera Erin," Rosta says, handing Alois to me quickly. "He’s really hungry."
"Well, he had a good three hour nap, too, so he’s gonna be," I reply, sitting down with the baby in my arms. The chair molds itself to me in a fluid motion for an instant, and my skin sort of crawls. I just can’t get used to metal and plastic-looking things that move on you. It’s creepy. Of course, Patrick and his generation don’t even pay it a second thought, I think, a little enviously. Man, to be his age, now…
Alois attaches himself and begins refueling; hot little hands on either side of my breast. I stroke his hair and smile down at him. If only they could stay this small, or this friendly, I muse. Lots of ‘if onlys’ nowadays. Rosta has scampered up to the fore compartment, and I hear the low murmur of her voice with Andri’s. She’s so excited about getting to go, and feel important; it’s kinda fun watching her youthful exhuberance. I need some of that energy, sure enough.
"How’s the trip so far for you, sweetlin’?" Gwen’s red head pops through the hatchway.
"Just fine, Muhmis."
"I saw you at the viewport…"
I smile. "Of course you did. You basically have to pry me away from there with a crowbar, don’t you?"
Muhmis returns the smile. "Yes. You get lost out there in your thoughts, don’t you, Erin?"
"Who wouldn’t?"
"Hmm…" She steps on through, and an aide, neatly uniformed in the formal black of the War Directorate, walks past me, handing her a data chip. It’s the size of my thumbnail, but holds a huge amount of information, I think, watching my Muhmis thumbprint for it. "Thank you, Charles."
"Service, Archon."
"Glory." He bobs his head at her and moves back to his seat in the foresection. Gwen pulls a silver diadem out from a pocket, and rolls her eyes slightly at me. "Always something else to do, besides talk and look at my darlings…" She kisses me softly on the forehead, and then kisses Alois, on his forehead, before walking away, to a chair at the end of the compartment.
As ranking Draka here, I’ve noticed how the others respond to her. There’s definitely respect; some admiration, a little fear occasionally. She seems to run a tight ship, command-wise, with the others but they respond well to it. She has a larger zone of personal space around her, I think, as I watch her settling back into her chair, which stretches out as a couch at her mental command. The other drakensis don’t interfere with her that way, and it sort of goes with her position, as well as her age and experience level.
The baby begins to gnaw, apparently full but enjoying himself, and I gasp a little. Those gums, man alive, kiddo… I like everything attached, thank you very much, Alois Ingolfsson. I grin down at him, and then slowly, remembering we’re operating in lighter gravity conditions than either of the two of us are used to, I put him up on my shoulder and start patting. He snuggles against me, purring slightly, and then burps. I take him down, and he whines a little; I shush him, wipe his mouth, and then begin to rock him, gently, rhythmically.
Softly, I hum a song Mamaw used to sing, and I watch Alois’ bright blue eyes grow sleepy. "Look how the wind carries the seed, see how the soil supplies what it needs, the rain falls, the sun shines, and a flower breaks free… and it all works together… oh, why can’t we?" He fights it, eyes blinking, fists waving in the air; Alois tries to grab his toes, anything to keep himself occupied, and I smile down at him.
"And I have seen children, at play in the park… skin shades of ivory, red, yellow and dark… Well, my eyes saw colors their little hearts did not see… they were playing together, oh , why can’t we?" Alois whimpers a little, wrinkling his brow as he feels sleep creeping up on him, and I keep rocking him in my arms, safe and secure, with a full tummy.
"I had a dream, about a lion and a lamb… they were layin’ together, and there was peace in the land… and swords became plowshares, ‘cause there were no enemies… and I woke up and wondered, God, why can’t we?" Humming the rest, slowly, in time with the motions of my arms, I watch the baby drift off into sleep, his body relaxing with a limp finality and a tiny purr. I rock him for a few more minutes, to make sure, and then slowly stand up to put him in his baby bed.
As I stand up, I’m aware of someone’s eyes on me. I look up to see Gwen watching me; her leaf green eyes are emeralds in her café-au-lait tanned face, and she’s smiling. I smile back, and cover the baby with a light blanket, and then fasten his restraint system into place, just in case. Her hands touch my back, and I stand up, leaning against their warmth.
"I thought you were busy… did my lullaby bother you, Muhmis?"
She nuzzles against me, and her hands slide from my back to my front, caressing, stroking. I feel her kisses, and then a little nip as her lips find an earlobe, and I shiver. Her hands are touching my breasts, firmly, knowingly… kneading, plucking, tugging slightly, and she chuckles deeply at my sharp intake of breath, my whine of desire. I feel her thighs against the backs of my legs, the strength in those arms, and groan softly, very softly, as she runs one hand down my stomach, down further…
"Muhmis…"
The hatch’s wide open, I know, and I blush furiously, stiffening a little in her arms. Gwen lifts her head from my neck, and laughs quietly, a deep bronze ripple that creates cascades of delightful shivers that pour down my spine. The hatch sighs shut, and the compartment grows darker; Muhmis’ hands on me grow more insistent, more direct. I lean against her, soaking up her body heat, her scent, her… oh, god, I want, I think, I want…
My knees are growing weak, though, by the time she finally cradles me in her arms and walks us over to the couch. She’s purring now, a sound coming from deep within her chest. All I can see or hear or feel is her; part of it’s the pheromones, I think dazedly, but part of it’s just us two… I reach up and put my hands at the back of her neck, pulling her down for a long kiss as she begins to undress me. Soon, she’s kneeling astride me, her thumbs stroking along my cheekbones, my jaw.
Smiling down at my panting hunger, my need, she moves her hips slightly, murmuring, "Ready to play pony for Muhmis, pretty-girl? Hmm? Ah… yesssss… like that, mmmhhh…"
**
Waking from the doze I was in, for a moment, I think I’m at the Household… but the smooth grey walls of the spacecraft realign my senses. I stretch, feeling relaxed and a little sore, and the blanket nearly falls off me. A Draka turns her head, and grins at me.
There’s a group of them around Gwen; in various seats, sitting crosslegged or reclining at their leopard-like ease on the deck. Charles, the one from the War Directorate I saw earlier, is collecting some chips from the others, and putting them in a slim carrying case on his belt. "That’s it, then, Planetary Archon Ingolfsson, everyone’s had the download, and assimilation of the relevant datasets. As well as our projections…"
His voice trails off abruptly as he sees my open eyes. He glances over to Gwen, his look saying volumes. She nods, and he blinks once, then continues smoothly:
"Our projections as to their defense situation, and their probable demands. The Archon has also asked me to make sure there aren’t any, well, last-minute questions concerning our negotiation strategies we’ll be bringing to bear on the Samothracians…"
I wrap the blanket tightly around me, my blush probably reaching my toes (I don’t look). When I start to stand up, Gwen’s voice speaks into my head:
Where’re you going, my dear little pretty-girl?
Um, Muhmis… this is, well, a Draka meeting, isn’t it? Shouldn’t I get the hell out of Dodge?
What? If that means should you leave, the answer’s no. You’re my personal saafn, my Prime Counselor, and you’ll be at my side the entire negotiation session. Unless you need to visit the head, come over here and sit by my feet, Erin.
I slowly get up and walk over to where she’s sitting, reclining at her ease in one of the chairs. I sit down at her feet, and lean my head against one of them. She moves it slightly, in a gentle caress, and I relax, a little. The other Draka smile, seeing my obedience, but Charles the Paperwork Man, as I’ve mentally christened him, looks down at his feet. He’s uncomfortable with me, a human, being here as they get ready to discuss what they’ll say to the Samothracians, I think, and wince, inwardly.
Gwen clears her throat in a low growl, and the talking stops, almost instantly. Everyone looks over or up to her, and I wait for her to begin.
**