| The spaceport town on Kethry prime bore a striking resemblance to the interior of Beckhaven Station, except for two things. The town's streets were open to the clear blue sky. And while there were many Humanoid species in evidence, Kerra had seen, including Aden, barely a half-dozen males.
Each of these alien males had appeared to be sticking very close to females of their own race. Aden himself kept very close to Kerra's side, and for once she didn't think it was for her protection. "Why did you want to come here, if it makes you so nervous?" Kerra asked irritably, when Aden stepped on her toes for the eighth time. "Who's nervous?" Aden moved out of the way of a passing group of uniformed women. "I'm not nervous." "Aden, you're squeezing my hand so hard I may never get the circulation back. What are you afraid of?" "You'll find out," Aden predicted grimly. "This is one of the easiest places in the sector for an honest smuggler to find work --" "Honest smuggler? Isn't that a bit of a contradiction?" Aden ignored the interruption. "The Kethrians import and export everything through offworld channels. Including a thriving trade in non-Kethrian men." "You mean, if you get on my nerves, I can sell you?" Kerra could learn to like this place. "Yeah," Aden confirmed. "For a big fellow like me, the average Kethrian mate-trader might give you an even dozen of her own sons -- or boys she claims are her own sons, anyway." Kerra's brow furrowed. "What would I do with twelve adolescent Kethrians?" "Whatever you wanted to," said Aden. "I've heard the Mercalans consider them a delicacy, roasted over a charcoal pit and basted with --" "Please say you're kidding," Kerra broke in. Aden arched one eyebrow. "You're not kidding." "I once knew a guy who made a fortune running Kethrian boys into Mercalan space. Real nasty guy. I heard he stiffed his buyers on a shipment and wound up on the barbecue himself." "I see," Kerra said. "Wonderful place you've brought me to. You really know how to spoil a girl." "Well, there's no planet anywhere in inhabited space where an offworld female is safer," Aden assured her. "As long as you don't try to help yourself to any of the local men without permission, no one will bother you. As for me -- I can handle this place, as long as it's clear to everyone who I belong to." He smiled wickedly. "How are you at acting possessive? In response, Kerra stopped where they stood. She turned and wrapped her arms tight around Aden's neck , pulling him fiercely down to her for a deep, hungry kiss. Aden's arms went around her, pulling her tight, crushing her body against him. His mouth opened to her welcome invasion, and she swallowed the delighted laugh that issued from his throat. At last Kerra broke the kiss, breathless with shock at her own public wantonness. "How was that?" she managed, once the air returned to her lungs. "That," Aden said throatily, "nearly got you ravished in the middle of the street." His arms still held her, his large, strong hands resting against the small of her back. "I'd have settled for glaring daggers at any woman who dared look twice at me. Not that I'm complaining." Kerra grinned sheepishly. "You seem to bring out the worst in me, love." "The best, my girl. Only the best." He bent his head to drop a playful kiss on her nose. "Let's get moving. The place I hung out when I was here last is just ahead." _______________________________________________________________________ It soon became apparent that the establishment Aden had frequented on his last visit to Kethry had vanished some time ago. After putting up with several it-must-be-the-next-blocks and a few we-must-have-passed-its, Kerra found herself considering the possibility of trading Aden in for a few docile, obedient native lads in a new light. "Aden," she said in exasperation, "the place is obviously gone." "The place was a landmark, Doc. It had stood on the same spot for three hundred years, owned by the same family. Vaia's grandparents met there. It wouldn't have just disappeared." "Maybe the last owner died without a daughter or niece to leave it to. Maybe it burned down. Whatever. It isn't here." "I'm sure it has to still be here. Let's retrace our steps." "Aden, I'm not wasting another minute trying to find some tavern you last visited over ten years ago. I'm sure there are other bars in this spaceport where people go looking for a smuggler to hire -- though why this kind of business seems always to be transacted in bars I don't understand." "It's a very ancient tradition, Doc," Aden said. "Criminal activity and chemical intoxicants go hand-in-hand. It's just the way things are done." "Well, I'd like to practice another ancient tradition. It's called giving up. People do it when they realize they're wasting their time. I'm sure that the bar we just passed will do fine as a place to start. Surely any bar located this close to the spaceport will do?" Aden sighed resignedly. "Technically, I guess. I just wanted to show you the place, that's all. They used to have a great band." "Ten years ago. When you were here with Vaialora." "Doc, why do you keep bringing that up? You're making me feel like a cradle-robbing old man. What difference does how long ago it was?" "Ten years ago you were still in love with Vaia," Kerra reminded him. "Ten years from now, where will you be?" "Good question," Aden muttered, so low Kerra doubted he'd meant her to hear. "It's a long time. Certainly long enough for one little bar to go out of business." "Hey, I just wanted to show you a good time," Aden said. "Make a few memories, you know?" "In a place you already associate with your partnership with Vaialora? Call me vain, but I'd rather whatever memories you have of me belong to me alone." "I didn't think you resented Vaia," Aden accused, his eyes narrowing. "I don't," said Kerra. "I don't resent Vaia, or any of the other women you've been in the past. What I do resent is the idea that some day, you'll be showing some other woman the places you used to bring me." "Never happen." Aden took her by the arms and jerked her around to face him, forcing her to meet his gaze. "I swore when Vaia left me that I would never take on another partner, especially not a woman I cared for. I've never broken that vow. Not until you. With you, I wasn't given a choice. But you are the last. Once Gandes is dead and we part company, I fly alone for the rest of my life." Kerra swallowed hard, her throat gone as dry as a world too near its sun. "I hope you don't actually think that makes me feel better." "I don't know what you want from me, Kerra," Aden groaned. "I'll tell you what I want," she told him. "I want all I can get of you for as long as I can get it. I want this time with you to be mine. And then, after it's all over and you let me go, I want you to be happy. Even if that means loving someone else. The last thing I want is for you to be alone." "Kerra, people are staring at us," Aden said, glancing nervously around them. "I don't think we should be arguing in public like this. Not here. Not saying the things we're saying. I'm sorry for whatever I've done to hurt you. We'll go wherever you want." Kerra closed her eyes and breathed a ragged sigh. "I'm sorry too. I'm just not used to all these -- feelings. I actually thought making love would make things simpler." "I don't think making love is the problem, honey," Aden said, pulling her close against his side. "Now, then, where did we see that bar?" _______________________________________________________________________ "What we should do," Kerra said several hours later, as they were sipping drinks in a secluded booth near the rear of a rundown gin mill, "is stay on the ship. Conduct all our business from orbit. We get along perfectly on the ship. But almost the moment we landed --" "All lovers fight, Doc. Or if they don't, it means there's no real passion there." "Is that your own personal theory, Aden?" Kerra asked sharply. "It's passion that makes us fight? Then why, the first time we argued, did I spend the night alone?" "I think we should abandon this line of discussion before we wind up in another public argument like the last one," Aden warned. "We can't afford to appear like anything other than a devoted couple." "You just finished telling me that all couples argue. Make up your mind." "I just don't want the details of our -- arrangement -- aired out loud, in public, the way they were outside before," Aden explained. "I admit we were both at fault, but we've got to be more careful. Now, can we please drop this topic, at least until we're alone?" Kerra nodded. "So what are we supposed to be doing here, anyway? Just waiting around for someone to walk up and offer us a contract? Because if so, it doesn't seem to be a very efficient way of doing business." "Well, a big part of what a smuggler does is waiting," Aden said. "Waiting, watching, listening. You sit, and you watch faces. You can tell from the way a person looks and acts whether she's here for a quiet drink after work, or to meet a friend, or to meet someone who's a bit more than a friend. People act differently when they're looking for illegal services than when they're just looking for someone to take home for the night." "And when you spot someone who has this -- look?" Kerra prompted. "You listen to your gut," Aden explained. "Your instincts will tell you whether or not you should approach. If you decide to make a move, you offer the person a drink, ask them if they're looking for somebody. You don't come right out and say what you're offering. You let them make the first move. "If your first instinct was right, they'll be evasive at first. You introduce yourself, start up a conversation. Mention that you've just arrived, and the name of your ship. If the person's really looking for a pilot for hire, they'll ask questions about the ship -- speed, hold capacity, that sort of thing. You ask if they'd like to see her. Then you set up a rendezvous, at the ship, at a mutually convenient time." "So you don't get a lot of mysterious notes by anonymous messenger?" Kerra asked with a twinkle in her eye. "There've been a few. Yours was the first one I ever actually followed up on. I don't normally like arranging private meetings with unknown quantities, but there were -- extenuating circumstances." Kerra chuckled at the euphemism and raised her glass. "Here's to extenuating circumstances." Aden brought his glass up to clink against hers. He looked as though he intended to add something else, but something caught his attention. Setting his drink down, he put his hand on Kerra's. "Look. Over by the bar. She just came in." Kerra's gaze followed his, to rest on a young Kethrian -- not simply younger than herself, but quite young, not more than two or three years past puberty -- speaking quietly to the bartender. At first glance, there was nothing unusual about the girl besides her age. She was taller and more muscular most Human females, with dark skin and deep red hair. She wore snug-fitting leggings of some elastic material and a long, flowing tunic which almost concealed the two lower pairs of breasts. "I don't see --" Kerra began. "Look how gray she is. It shows mostly around the eyes. She isn't well. She's gone without for a long time. Almost too long." Kerra almost opened her mouth to ask without what. Then she remembered. "She's a messenger," Aden continued. "The most powerful Kethrian ladies would never contaminate themselves by public contact with an offworlder. She was probably offered a man of her own in exchange for handling the preliminary negotiations." "Negotiations for what?" Kerra asked. "How can you tell all that from all the way over here?" "I can tell what she is by the fact that she's sixteen if she's a day, but still alive and most likely still sane. I'd also say she's fallen on hard times, and recently. She if she'd gone this long in the past her benefactor would have been forced to give her the man when she was done with him. As for the nature of the negotiations, I may be observant, but I'm not psychic." The girl finished talking to the bartender and headed toward a row of small tables lined up against the edge of the empty bandshell, carrying a tall glass of something that steamed and bubbled. She seemed to hesitate a moment as she passed Aden and Kerra's table, and something about her expression made Kerra's stomach clench into a tight, uncomfortable knot. "What do you think?" Aden asked softly, watching the girl take her seat. "I think she's bad news." Aden's brows rose at the soft vehemence of Kerra's words. "Based on..." "On my gut, Aden. Like you said." "Are you sure it isn't just the way she looked at me?" Aden suggested. "Because in her condition, she would have looked at any male that way." "That may be part of it," Kerra admitted. "But I could swear it was more than just desire in her eyes, love. It was... I'm not sure I know the word." Aden frowned. "I didn't see what you did, Doc, but then, you saw how I felt about you when I was doing everything I could to hide it, so I suppose I should trust your judgment. Okay. We go with your call on this one." "Spoken like a true partner, partner." Kerra smiled warmly, taking his strong hand in hers. "We may make it through this relationship in one piece, after all." _______________________________________________________________________ The rest of that evening passed without any other evidence of potential business. Finally Aden agreed, after several loud and pointed yawns from Kerra, to go back to the ship until morning. She leaned into his side as they walked back toward the spaceport, letting the strong, manly arm around her shoulders support her tired body. She wasn't used to alcohol. She'd thought it would help her release her inhibitions, make her more spontaneous, less reserved, more relaxed. Well, it had certainly relaxed her. But not in quite the way she'd had in mind. Thank the stars she had stuck to soft drinks until the later part of the evening, or Aden would have been carrying her slumbering body back to the Key. Not that the thought of being borne home in Aden's arms didn't have a certain appeal. His broad, strong shoulder would be the perfect pillow for her tired head, his thick hair soft against her cheek. Still, the symbolism would have been all wrong. She'd fought hard to convince him to treat her as a true partner. She wouldn't sacrifice the progress she'd made for a few moments' comfort. "I hope you have a little energy left, sleepyhead," Aden drawled softly, turning his head to bury his face in her hair. "Because sleep isn't what's first in my mind." An impish smile flickered on Kerra's lips. "Just be very slow and gentle, and I'm sure you won't even wake me." Aden pulled her more tightly into his arms and kissed her, his strong arms pulling her clear off the ground, crushing her against his chest. Her body responded instantly, already fully awake and aroused when he released her. He let her slide down this body, feel his arousal against the soft flesh of her belly. "So you think you can sleep through my lovemaking, hmmm?" Aden's eyes glittered with smug irony. Kerra had to concede his point. Every cell in her body felt electrified. She could not possibly have slept, now, until he finished what he'd started. She opened her mouth to say so, but the words died on her tongue. The sudden blankness of Aden's gaze was all the warning Kerra had. His body went slack in her arms. His knees gave way and he fell heavily against her. Kerra barely reacted in time to catch him before his head struck the hard pavement. Kerra fell to her knees, Aden's head and shoulders cradled in her lap. Looking down, she saw a small, needlelike projectile protruding from his upper arm. A small stain of blood was beginning to spread around it. That was all her mind had time to register. That, and the sharp, stinging pain in her shoulder before unconsciousness claimed her too. Home Back LTDBooks |