Part 23 (2/2)

”Oh.” Rhani glanced at the com-unit. The message light on its side flashed steadily. ”I -- I was asleep.”

”City Computer said the line was not malfunctioning. I was worried. I came home. Binkie told me there was a second attack. Three people, one of them with a bottle?”

”Yes, that's right. I wasn't hurt, just shaken up. My side aches.”

”Tell me about it.” She described the attack as best she could. ”Let me see your side.” She drew back the coverlet to show him the bruises. They were purple-green, very big, and ugly. In places, the flesh was puffy. Clinically, carefully, he touched her ribs. It hadn't occurred to her that they might be broken.

”You see,” she said, ”I'm fine.” She smiled at him to prove it.

He did not return the smile. ”Rhani, do you want to go back to the estate?” he said.

”Run away, you mean?” He nodded. ”Absolutely not. What would you have me do on the estate, build a Cage-field? Live behind bars? No. I am going to the Auction tomorrow, and in six days we will have the Yago party. We will leave after that, as we always do. Family Yago built this city; I will not be chased out of it!”

Mildly, he said, ”I had to ask.”

”I suppose you did.”

”Did you notify the Abanat police of the attack?”

”Of course.” Rhani got out of bed and reached for her robe, wincing a little at the ache in her right arm.

”What is it?” said Zed quickly.

”My arm ... I fell on it. It got wrenched out of the socket. Dana put it back.” His name resonated in her mind, like a bell ringing. She turned her face away in unaccustomed dissembling from her sharp-eyed brother. She turned the lights up. The purple had faded into a soft, shadowless blue, herald of darkness. She wondered how long it would take him to learn that she and Dana had bedded. Amri might let it slip. Corrios would not. Binkie would not say two words to Zed by choice.

She called the kitchen on the intercom. ”Amri, tell Corrios that Zed and I will want dinner in the dining alcove.” To Zed she said, ”Are you hungry? You must be. I am. When I left the Dur party they had just begun to serve lunch.”

”You left early,” he said. ”Was it so tiresome?”

”Yes,” she said, half-smiling as she recalled Ferris Dur's mouth against her own. So clumsy. Not like Dana. ”Very tiresome. Zed-ka, don't you want to put on other clothes?”

He glanced at his Clinic greens. ”Oh. Yes.” He rose, and then came to her, and very gently, as if she were made of gla.s.s, put his arms about her and buried his head in her hair. ”Rhani,” he whispered.

She held him lightly. ”Zed, I'm all right. I'm all right, twin.”

”Yes,” he whispered, and let his arms fall.

Dana watched Zed and Rhani walk side by side down the curving marble stair.

As he had been the first time, at the estate, he was struck by their likeness. But now he could see beyond it, beyond the fact that their eyes were amber, their hair red-brown -- Rhani's dark, Zed's lighter -- their height the same, their voices similar. They were different as light and dark, different as pleasure from pain. He remembered the springy weight of Rhani's hair on his throat, and s.h.i.+vered. And what am _I_ now? he thought. Slave, Starcaptain, pilot, friend, lover, bodyguard.... Amri pushed past him, carrying a tray. He retreated from her path, into the kitchen. Zed and Rhani went into the dining alcove. Corrios was bending over his pots, muttering. Binkie sat on a stool, eating. His look was unfriendly.

Corrios jabbed Dana in the ribs with an elbow. ”Eat,” he said.

”All right.” Dana filled his plate and sat on another stool.

He tried to think of something lighthearted to say to Binkie, and couldn't. They sat in silence, and ate. Suddenly Amri came from the dining alcove. ”Dana, Zed wants you.”

”Wants me -- now?” Dana said, half rising. Amri nodded. Dana swallowed.

Binkie looked at him, expressionless. Dana's hurts began to ache as he walked from the kitchen. His left arm had been sc.r.a.ped on the stones of the Boulevard, and there was a dark, painful knot where he had been kicked, on his left thigh.

He walked to the dining alcove. Rhani was there. He was careful not to look too long at her. Be careful, warned the blood hammering through his chest, be very careful. He called upon the discipline he had learned on Nexus, and shut Rhani's presence from his consciousness. Then he turned, to face the one person who could, if he chose, obliterate that self-control with a touch.

”You sent for me, Zed-ka.”

”Yes,” said Zed. He leaned back in his chair. ”Tell me about this attack today.”

”There were three of them,” Dana said. ”They were waiting for us, approximately halfway between Founders' Green and Dur House, on the Boulevard.

They pretended to be drunk. It was noon, a perfect time; there was no one on the street for blocks. Rhani's black wig didn't fool them: they must have known she had it on.”

Zed frowned. ”Black wig?” he said to Rhani.

”I wore that black wig, the one I bought four years ago,” she said. ”And the silver sari.”

He nodded. ”Go on.”

Dana thought back. ”The woman with the bottle went for Rhani first, I think. Yes. I got between them. I kicked the bottle from her hand.” He grimaced.

”It was a stupid move, but it worked. I brought her down and hit her. The second one tackled me and we rolled around for awhile. The third one went after Rhani.

He was twisting her arms when I got to him. I pulled him off her and they all got skittish and ran. There wasn't a soul in the street to see it.”

”Was it difficult, chasing them off?” Zed asked.

Dana's thigh throbbed. ”It wasn't fun.”

Zed said, ”What did they want, do you think? To kidnap Rhani? Hurt her?

Frighten her?”

Dana considered that. ”I -- I don't know, Zed-ka,” he said. ”They couldn't have wanted to kill her or they would have done it from a distance, and I never would have seen their faces.”

Zed locked gazes with Rhani. ”It makes a pattern,” he said.

Rhani was nodding. ”Yes. The day after tomorrow I should get a letter from the Free Folk of Chabad.”

Zed's gaze shot to Dana's face. ”You did well,” he said.

”Thank you, Zed-ka,” Dana said.

”Tell me” -- Zed sipped his wine, still looking at Dana -- ”was there no way to put one of them out? A knock on the head would have done it, and the police would have had someone to question.”

Dana swallowed. He had been expecting this question, and dreading it.

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