Part 17 (1/2)

They ate in the cafeteria, at a round table with Erith Allogonga and the section heads. As the staff filed in for lunch, Dana saw the heads turn to look, and heard the whispers go around. Occasionally, someone started laughing. They finished the meal -- which was not bad, though not up to the standards of either Immeld or Corrios -- with tall gla.s.ses of the ubiquitous Chabadese fruit punch.

Rhani added sweetener to hers. Slowly, the lesser members of the staff went out.

Kay Seponen said, ”Domna, I think you've halted the tours for a while, till the rumors die down.”

Dov I-Kotomi said, ”Not such a bad thing.”

Rhani said, ”Do they get in the way of your work? I'll have them stopped.”

The section heads looked at one another. Kay Seponen said, ”They don't really take up any time. The slaves like them. It's just that -- you know.

Tourists.”

Erith Allogonga said, ”I'd love to see the look on that woman's face when she discovers that there is no 'Abanat Production Quality Control Inspection Bureau'!”

Rhani sipped the punch. She was looking tired; her eyes had lost that animated gleam. Softly, Dana said to her, ”Rhani-ka, if we're going to be staying much later, perhaps we should call Abanat. You don't want Zed to worry.”

She pushed the gla.s.s away from her. ”We won't be staying later. I've seen all that I came to see.”

Erith Allogonga and the section heads accompanied them along the dusty path to the hangar. They crammed into the narrow seats. The bubble hummed under Dana's fingers; the hangar roof pulled back; the sky blazed in. They lifted toward it.

Rhani sighed. She wriggled against the hard padding of the seat. ”I'm tired,” she said.

Below them, the bubble shadow dipped and lifted over the contoured ground. Dana took them higher. Rhani had a smudge of dust on her left cheek.

Curled into the seat, her pinned-up hair falling down, she looked like a dirty- faced child, done with exploring some wild and private wonderland. Dana smiled at her. ”We'll be home soon.”

”Not home,” she corrected. ”We'll be in Abanat. _Home_ is the estate. May I have some water, please?” Filling a cup, he gave it to her. She lifted her face to drink. The small age-lines around her eyes stood out, clearly defined. She no longer looked like a child.

Dana felt a rush of tenderness for her. He reached out his hand to brush her cheek clean. She smiled. ”My Starcaptain,” she said. She turned her face toward his palm. In the hollow of his hand, he felt the lingering moist warmth of her lips and tongue.

*Chapter Eight*

On the way up the steps to the house, Rhani turned to look at Dana.

Coming from the landingport, he had remained silently and watchfully beside her, a perfect image of a bodyguard. She touched his wrist, afraid of putting too much weight on their unexpected rapport. ”Be careful,” she said. ”You will have to be careful.”

”I know,” he said. The door opened, and they went in. They separated at once: Rhani went to the stairway, Dana to the slaves' hall. She glanced at him before ascending the stairs. He was watching her from the hallway, his face impa.s.sive except for his eyes, which brimmed with warmth.

As she went upstairs, Rhani remembered that she had asked Tak Rafael, manager of the Yago Bank, to attend her that afternoon. She sighed, scrubbing her face. She felt dusty, begrimed, and hot. Perhaps she would have time to shower. She went into the bedroom.

Zed was there.

He looked weary and tense. Rhani's head stabbed with sudden pain; she could not bear the thought of a second fight with him, she would not.... She touched the intercom. ”Amri,” she said, ”bring me something cool to drink.” As she started to pluck the ivory pins from her hair, Amri entered with gla.s.ses and a pitcher of chilled wine.

”I'll do that,” Zed said, as the slave began to pour. Amri left. Zed cleared his throat. ”Rhani-ka,” he said, ”I was stupid, and jealous yesterday, just as you said. I will support whatever you choose to do, even if you choose to marry Ferris Dur. Can we be friends?”

She turned to him, deeply grateful. She reached a hand to him. He lifted it to his cheek. His face was grainy with exhaustion. ”Thank you, Zed-ka,” she said.

He let her hand fall and presented her with the gla.s.s of wine. ”You look tired,” he said.

”It's a long flight from Sovka. So do you.”

”Yukiko called me in. I spent the morning repairing a badly shattered elbow.”

She nodded, knowing that he had battled his way to his capitulation under the surgery lights. ”They found out what was killing the kerit kits at Sovka,”

she said. ”It's called hemophilia.”

Zed frowned. ”The name's familiar.” He shook his head. ”Tell me about it.”

Rhani repeated Erith Allogonga's explanation.

”Of course.” He leaned on the back of the chair. ”It must have been a spontaneous mutation. As I recall, it was s.e.x-linked in humans; females carried it, but it was expressed in males.... How many breeders were affected?”

”About half the Prime Strain breeders, Erith said.”

Zed winced. ”They'll have to be killed, and their kits as well, even the healthy-seeming ones. You can't continue to breed them.”

”I know,” Rhani said. ”They've already sent the hunters out.”

”It'll dilute the strain.” Prime Strain kerits were so designated because of the color, texture, and superior reflectivity of their coats. ”But I suppose it can't be helped. Something like this was bound to show up eventually.” Rhani drank and set the gla.s.s down. Recalling Jo's letter, she pulled it from her pocket. ”Zed-ka,” she said, ”look at this.” She held it out.

He read swiftly. ”Loras U-Ellen has taken Sherrix Esbah's place. Who the h.e.l.l is that?” He read further, and scowled. ”Is not, as far as anyone can tell, dealing dorazine? He'll go out of business in a week! How did he persuade Sherrix to -- oh, I see. Probably a bribe. U-Ellen, U-Ellen. It's an Enchantean name, but I don't think I've ever heard it. Better tell Binkie to get the word out.”

Rhani nodded. ”I shall. I wonder what's going on, Zed-ka.” She frowned, and her temple twinged with pain. She hated dealing with shadows, names, never faces. In five years, she had never met or even spoken with Sherrix Esbah. That, too, was a consequence of the Federation ban.

A step drew her attention. Binkie stood in the doorway. He spoke, not looking at Zed: ”Excuse me, Rhani-ka. Tak Rafael has arrived, and waits downstairs. And you asked me to remind you; Family Kyneth's party is tonight.”

”Oh, h.e.l.l!” Rhani said. Her shoulders hunched. Parties, she thought with disgust. She did not want to go; her back hurt from the flight, she was hot, and tired, and her head ached.... She looked at Zed. ”Zed-ka,” she said, ”would you go in my place? One of us has to.”

Zed groaned. Rhani knew he hated parties, and never went to them unless she was there. But it was hard for him, as she knew it would be, to deny the direct request. ”I wouldn't have to stay long,” he said hopefully.

She smiled at him. ”An hour or two,” she said. ”No more. You can tell them that I'm not feeling well, and you have to return to take care of me.”

He sighed. ”I'll go.” He glanced at the clock display on the com-unit.

”I'd better eat and dress.”

”Come and see me before you leave,” she said. She looked longingly toward the washroom. She had wanted to shower. It would have to wait.

”I will,” Zed promised. He walked to the door. Binkie had vanished.

”Don't waste your strength on that bank manager, Rhani-ka.”

She grinned at him, amused despite her fatigue. ”But, Zed-ka,” she said, ”he's _my_ bank manager.”