Part 2 (2/2)

Yet why then had that giant of a woman taken him into custody on Ghanj, after the death of his (admittedly s.a.d.i.s.tic murderer of a) Jarp first mate? Only to see that I paid one h.e.l.l of a fine, as she maintains? Man-janungo wondered. Perhaps-but no matter. He had paid nothing other than a bit of pride. It was she who had paid. Would pay. Was paying.

Ah, that reminded him.

”Intaglio! Get our guest out of s.h.i.+pdoc and bathe her. An injection first, mind! Then . . . oh, arrange her, interestingly.”

”My lord,” she said with that slow nod that was a deferential bow, and she departed the con-cabin.

Rather than watch the skintight fit of her white garment over her b.u.t.tocks, so carefully st.i.tched so as not only to cling but to dip into her rearward cleavage, Manjanungo looked up at the screen. It showed his s.h.i.+p and Kenyo's, along with the coordinates Kenyo had given him. SIPAc.u.m estimated another twenty-seven hours to intercept.

How lovely! Kenyo had spotted a s.p.a.cer, apparently merely b.u.mbling along on course to nowhere and as if without anyone in control. It was worth another sixty or so hours. Let Lortice and his prize wait! All this loot, and the yacht soon to be his, and now merely to run out and pluck from s.p.a.ce an apparently derelict s.p.a.cer! No matter what sort of shape it was in, it would be one 36.more addition to his growing fleet . . . and what he already dared envision as a pirate empire.

Besides, there might be people onboard. Doubtless they would be most grateful to be ... rescued.

They'd better be.

”I'll go offplanet,” Seera had promised the Sonde-layne. ”It's time I visited Suzi.”

”Of course it is, Seerava! Your family ...” He trailed off with an eloquent gesture in which she saw some of his relief.

My family, she thought with a sinking feeling. At that instant she knew that merely going off to Suzi for awhile would not be enough. Not time enough. No, Seera decided. Her best course was to seek fun, not to go home to who-knew-what. She would leave Jorinne on an extended tour of several planets. First she'd get this silly cargo delivered to Franjistation, and pop down for some extensive shopping in its capital, Velynda. Once she had a few dozen new outfits and perhaps a new hair-color (and did she want to retain the ”mask” of dye that marked her as a Sondelayne Clanner?), she could move on with confidence to her old homeworld. The younger generation would not know her, but any daughter of Sarik Arslan Sarik would have doors opened for her in Suzite society.

Unless I get sidetracked along the way, she thought, almost able to smile, or decide to get sidetracked!

Still, foremost in her thoughts was the more than cheerful prospect of the coming tri-family reunion. The thirtieth decade since the founding of the Sariks and two allied families was an event that would last for weeks. During that long long and festive Shambanafest, every scion of Suzite wealth would receive points; points based upon the number of older women he successfully 37.trysted, i.e. made love to, i.e. sliced with, i.e. screwed.

It was a charming custom. Seerava intended to support it. She intended that no young man should be disappointed. She would try to help them all to win. Were there extra points for doubles, twice-overs with the same woman? Well, whatever the case, as a member of the moneyed and dominating cla.s.s, she must respond to the sacred call of Duty.

Meanwhile . . . here she was a prisoner on her own s.h.i.+p, and her prison contained no shower, soni-, water-, or otherwise. There was the sink. Was there any way she could induce good old Boroboodhi to bathe?

He had not so much as disarranged his clothing, much less washed his hands and face. Seera had no inhibitions about using the limited facilities for an all-over bath, and she had done so more than once. Boroboodhi presumably had such inhibitions, and so had not emulated her.

Maybe if I gave firm instructions, even guidelined* him, and then turned my face to the wall. . .

Ah, Lady Vike and other G.o.ds, it was all just so unjust! Just when she had been really about to kick up her rounded heels at last, just when she had escaped the stiflement of Jorinne and the d.a.m.ned uptight clans . . .

And the most outrageous part of the whole misadventure was that with all this lawlessness, this capture and imprisonment. . . I haven't even been raped!

Ordered, as in ”The Government issued new guidelines today ...”

3.

Karmal Pak was of the opinion that the only possible way to rape Lady Seerava would be in her sleep. He remembered Captain Lortice's query the day Pak had signed on as steward of this loony s.h.i.+p: ”Y'understand that if yer accept the berth there will be demands above and beyond the call of duty?”

Pak had heard about his prospective employer's reputation, although he knew next to nothing about s.h.i.+pmaster Lortice. He had stored up several months' worth of rut in durance vile (mining corundum for emeralds and rubies that he would never see) after having been nipped up at Jorinne's...o...b..ting s.p.a.ce station. He even knew that the female nipper who'd got him had been promoted to boss of Station Soljer Security.

”I understand,” he had told Lortice. ”Be a nice change. How long will I have to keep it up?”

”Most of the time,” the captain said, giving him a look that made Karmal realize he should have chosen a different phrase. But Captain Lortice went on with the information he had sought: ”Depends on how he comes out in the Race* and if he makes the first rendezvous point.”

See s.p.a.cE WAYS #18, Race Across the Stars 38 39.”Uh. And if not?”

”You'll just have to keep on slicing 'er until he gives us the signal, cobber.”

”Uh.”

Karmal Pak, who could have been described as willowy had he been female, tried to find out who this ”he” was. The desire to know was so strong that he almost asked. He was either a pirate or a slaver, that was for sure. He had more than one s.p.a.cer; either he had a fleet or was putting one together. Karmal Pak saw opportunity in that. Lortice had let it slip that he had recently lost a good s.h.i.+p's first-a mate he had been considering elevating to captain's status. That meant at least one other s.h.i.+p aside from this one and the one they would rendezvous with. Meanwhile . . . lost that first mate? Whether to the superspooks of TransGalactic Order/TransGalactic Watch-TGO/TGW-or to lesser policers such as TAI or locals . . . that was not explained. Obviously that was not for Karmal Pak to know, at least yet.

Lortice was in his employ* and he was occupied elsewhere, partic.i.p.ating in the great Five-Year Race of s.p.a.cecraft across a large chunk of the Galaxy, and Lortice and Pak were to take over a whole flaining yacht in s.p.a.ce. A yacht! Not to mention its owner, a Most n.o.ble Lady Roundheels whom Pak was also to keep happy in bed. Along with Lortice, though not simultaneously. Soon he would show up and lay claim to yacht and owner. Lortice would be installed as master of another s.p.a.cer in his growing fleet.

And I, presumably, will be in charge of this lovely yacht, as master! Pak mused, dreaming. Under him, of course. And Karmal Pak smiled.

Not bad for a minor smuggler who had just put in a few strength-building months of rockbusting in the 40.Joser boonies!-while burning his olive skin black except for a bandit-like-or clan-like!-trace of pallor where his filtration mask had remained in place all day, every day. And Lady Vike have mercy if a man forgot to change the filter and air-bottle and breathed in that awful dust. It was only the stuff that emery boards were made of!

Going to be nice, playing pirate captain, Pak mused. Lie down and spread your legs, me hearties!

Actually he had never aspired so high. . . .

Strangely, he was soon tired of his duties to the Most n.o.ble Lady Roundheels Sondelayne with her dyed Son-delayne ”mask” of golden yellow. Once this was over . . . just give me a ten-min breather and a microgram of hormone helper in my Heaven High and grant that the next captive is younger, squeakier, less pillow-chested, and a lot less willing; that's the way to add spice to the slice!

That was Karmal Pak's problem arid his new punishment.

a.s.signed to see to the s.e.xual needs of a woman of about sixty with an apparent-age thirty body that wouldn't quit and a yen to match and enthusiastic expertise as well, he was not happy. Seera Sondelayne was the s.e.xual dream of millions and maybe billions of men. Pak wasn't one of them. To begin with, he wasn't an Akima Mars fan. He liked 'em on the willowy side. Too, the sort of s.e.xual partner he wanted and cherished was not a more-than-willing expert. Karmal Pak's great dream was a s.e.xual victim. At least the illusion of unwillingness and resistance, he thought unhappily.

Nevertheless he did her d.a.m.ned good stud service, and managed not to smother in breastworks.

Captain Lortice sat alone in his cabin, thinking about 41.his situation and his Most n.o.ble captive while he sipped a drink. Alone, very alone. The trouble was that all he could do was wait, wait for his employer-also n.o.ble. Once the man found himself another s.h.i.+p's mate or dragooned one, his s.p.a.cer would rendezvous with Lewuvul, somewhere up ahead.

Somewhere. Sometime, Lortice thought, and sipped, and thought about his employer.

Neither tall nor short, neither homely nor handsome, the man had been born to wealth and considerable influence on Jorinne. He had no need to do anything at all for money. He did; he had other needs. He had things to prove, and he proved them. Until the policers and those meddlers calling themselves the Satana Coalition had sapped the drive of his operation and who had been ”collecting” and selling so many of his fellow Josers, as well as visitors to his native Jorinne.

He was a nephew of the renowned physician/biochemist Caldera Mehdhi-daktari, who was brother to the Jacalder of Caldera and cousin to the Jasondelayne of Sondelayne. Tight, those clans. Nevertheless, the son of Manjarik, Jacath of Jacath, had become a big, a truly major criminal: Jacath Manjanungo. Now he employed Lortice and quite a few others.

He had broken his father's heart and scandalized all the Twelve Clans.

Family connections would be of little value to a young man who had been s.n.a.t.c.hing and selling his fellow Josers into offplanet bondage. Manjanungo had escaped Jorinne and justice in his superb s.p.a.ce-yacht about two mins ahead of the law.

Since then he had gone pirate. He had prospered, too. Using an alias for both himself and his s.h.i.+p, he had even dared enter the Great Race.

Now Lortice knew that he had not won, though he 42.should have done-some flainin' little creep had tried to crowd Manjanungo into one of the collapstars named Karybdis and Skylla. True, the flaining little creep had got himself nicely, spectacularly killed. That had not enabled Manjanungo-as-Don Arecibo to win the Race. He had even raised h.e.l.l about the mysterious s.h.i.+pmaster who had won-and couldn't be bothered to show up and collect the prize.

Shortly after that, Manjanungo had got into trouble down on Ghanj. He survived that, too. His Jarp mate did not. Eyes narrowed, Lortice sipped his drink and recalled their last contact.

”I've checked out the s.h.i.+p,” he had told Manjanungo, once he had unscrambled and had the man on-comm. No picture; Manjanungo was far, far away and trying to get a picture would merely drag out the contract. ”The best non-VIC SIPAc.u.m. Enough weaponry to take on most local policer s.h.i.+ps-wonder why? And it all works. With an excellent tachyon converter. Fine s.h.i.+p.”

<script>