Part 11 (2/2)

Val was staring over at the Anthaurk. 'Whatever did you say to them. love? They're all meek and mild now.'

Fitz straightened his collar. Much as he was enjoying having two women fussing over him, he wished Val would leave him alone with this gorgeous specimen. 'What did did you say to them?' you say to them?'

She sat down on a chair next to Fitz. 'Oh, I just reminded them that twelve to one is hardly the sort of odds for honourable warriors.' She waved a pale, fine-boned hand. 'They're suckers for all that honour-andglory stuff, even when drunk.'

'Well, I don't know how to thank you.' But he did. 'Val, be a star, bring us a bottle of Chateau Yquatine.'

Val narrowed her eyes towards Fitz and leaned in towards him. She smelled of gin and cheap perfume. 'I see your little game.'

'Oh, go on,' said Fitz through gritted teeth. Then he turned to his rescuer. 'Fine wine for ' He leaned towards her. 'What's your name?'

'Arielle.'

'For Arielle.' He knew he was deliberately winding Val up but she'd been getting a bit touchy-feely of late and this should put her in her place.

'All right. Seeing as you saved his scrawny neck and more importantly prevented any damage to the furniture, this is on the house.' Good job Il-Eruk was still working or most probably sulking in the kitchen. Val minced off, muttering under her breath, returning with a slender blue bottle with a thin neck and two gla.s.ses, which she plonked down on the table between them.

Fitz watched her go with some relief. Arielle had watched this little performance with detached amus.e.m.e.nt; her mind was clearly on other things.

Fitz poured the wine, enjoying the trickling glug of the dark ruby liquid. 'My name's Fitz Kreiner, intergalactic man of mystery currently down on his luck and working behind a bar.'

Arielle smiled distantly, sipping her wine. 'Arielle Markhof, first-year xen.o.biology student, currently sitting in a bar wondering what the h.e.l.l to do with her life.'

This sounded extremely interesting. Fitz took a sip of wine. but then duty called the Anthaurk started demanding more ale, with a perceptible degree of politeness. Within half an hour they upped and left for another bar, but more parties arrived and Fitz was kept busy, able to glance at Arielle only once in a while. She sat on her own, drinking from the bottle of Chateau Yquatine, avoiding the glances of the male customers. She looked as if she'd been stood up or chucked, but even in despondency her face was quite something. The angles of her cheekbones, the tilt of her nose, the refined pout of her lips, combined to stunning effect. If Fitz had been asked to design the perfect woman, Arielle would pretty much fit the bill. And there was something else: she carried her beauty casually unadorned by make-up, uncaring of the loose strands of hair that fell over her face. Every now and then she'd toss her head so it all flew back into place. The way she did it was natural, without affectation, as though she had no idea how d.a.m.n s.e.xy d.a.m.n s.e.xy she looked. she looked.

Val tried to take no notice of her, but Fitz could see a desperation in her eyes, a coldness towards him.

'Not jealous, are you, Val?' he joshed.

'She's young, she's beautiful, and you're already half in love with her.' She looked at him, her brazen manner abandoned, suddenly an ageing and lonely woman. 'Of course I'm jealous, you prat.'

Fitz smiled back at her. So often had he thought of her as a figure of fun, when he even thought of her at all. He whispered in her ear, 'I'll make it up to you.'

She put her hand on his shoulder. 'Promises, promises,' she said sadly, and went off to clean the ashtrays. She left shortly afterwards, claiming a bad head.

When things had quietened right down and looked like staying that way, Fitz went over to Arielle and sat down opposite her. He'd been thinking all evening of how to approach her and he'd decided the best angle was the friendly, sympathetic barman. 'You look like someone with something on their mind.'

She looked wary, as though she resented his intrusion. 'For all you know. I could be something with someone on my mind.'

Touche 'So what's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?' he said with a selfconscious swagger in his voice.

She ignored the cliche 'Getting drunk to forget.' She waved a hand at him. 'You don't want to know.'

'I tried that once,' said Fitz, knowing it was more like every other night. 'Doesn't work.'

She sighed, and half sagged over the table. Her hair descended in a golden fall. 'I've just got got to get off this planet.' to get off this planet.'

Fitz boggled. He felt like crying. So do I! Let's go, baby! But he managed to stop himself. 'Love affair gone wrong?'

She glared at him. 'Does it show?'

Fitz shrugged. 'Lucky guess.'

Arielle leaned back in her chair. Her movements were slow and leisurely with wine, her eyes seeing distance. 'Then yes, you're right, love affair gone wrong.' She frowned. 'He's the problem. He's so b.l.o.o.d.y childish and clingy, he won't let go. Every time I go away he makes me feel guilty.' the problem. He's so b.l.o.o.d.y childish and clingy, he won't let go. Every time I go away he makes me feel guilty.'

Fitz couldn't blame him: who'd want to let a beauty like Arielle go? 'Why do you have to go away?'

'I would have thought that was obvious. I'm studying xen.o.biology. There are hundreds of races in the System, so...?'

Fitz nodded quickly. 'Ah, I see.'

'He only likes me for the way I look. has no interest in my inner life, or the reason I came here in the first place. But the worst thing is, he's totally restricted my life on Yquatine. My friends are his friends. All the other students shun me because they think I'm having such a great time with Stefan.' She sighed, and held out her gla.s.s for more wine. 'All I do is study, and go to functions and visits with Stefan. I'm in the papers all the time. Can't go anywhere without some fly-camera zipping around me like a d.a.m.n insect. This is one of my few places of refuge. n.o.body here cares who I am.' She let out a sigh of exasperation and took a long glug of wine. She smiled at Fitz. 'Sorry. I tend to go on a bit after I've had a few.'

Fitz already hated this bloke. What right did he have to treat her this way? 'No problem,' he said. I've been through a few relations.h.i.+ps in my time,' he added to show his credentials. 'And I b.l.o.o.d.y hope I've treated my ladies better than that!'

She smiled at him. She actually smiled! 'I'm sure you have,' she murmured.

This was the green light for Fitz or at least it had been, once. Now he wasn't so sure. He didn't particularly want to get involved. Not now, so soon after Filippa. But Arielle had said she wanted to leave Yquatine. And she was extremely attractive and friende. 'You should chuck him,' he said casually, fiddling with the stem of his winegla.s.s.

'Chuck him?' Arielle's eyes widened as though this was the first time she'd entertained the idea.

'Yeah!' said Fitz, mustering all his self-righteousness. 'I wouldn't stand for being treated the way he treats you.'

Arielle's face had darkened. 'Do you know who he is?'

Fitz shook his head.

Arielle leaned conspiratorially towards Fitz. 'Stefan Vargeld.'

The name was obviously meant to mean something. Was it some Yquatine pop star? 'Who is...?'

Arielle looked insulted. 'Oh, come on!'

Fitz ran his hands through his hair. 'Look, OK, but I've only been here for a week.'

She banged the table with the side of her hand. 'Everyone's heard of him!' heard of him!'

'I'm from outside the System,' wailed Fitz.

Arielle rolled her eyes, a gesture Fitz was beginning to recognise as characteristic. She spoke in a slow, duh-duh voice. 'He's the Pre-sident of the Min-erva System.'

Politics had never been his strong point. 'Oh. Blimey. Well I hope he treats his const.i.tuency better than his woman.'

<script>