Part 5 (1/2)

His heavy-lidded eyes closed and opened. ”I'm pleased you understand. And now Jael ... if you would help me ...” He coughed suddenly on a lungful of smoke. He laid his pipe aside, frowned, and sat back.

He lifted his headset over his grey-streaked hair.

Frightened, Jael rose. ”But weren't you just under this a little while ago?”

”Don't question my orders!” he snapped. She stepped backward, alarmed by his tone, but he smiled woodenly and beckoned her forward again. ”And now, Jael, please do me the honors. One hour will be sufficient.” He closed his eyes.

She knelt and made the adjustments. Sighing, she rose and looked down at his inert form, at his fingers twitching - and she felt a rush of loathing. She also felt an appalling weariness and confusion. Mogurn had, after all, given her the chance to fly which everyone else had denied her. And the pallisp - whatever it was or did - brought her a pleasure she had never known before. Was that so bad?

She was hardly sure any longer. She was hardly sure of anything except that this flight was turning into something far different from what she had dreamed.

Mogurn was sighing and murmuring to himself, his eyes seeing nothing. Jael walked toward the door, intending to leave him to his peace, if that was what his present condition could be called. But instead of leaving, she found herself peering around Mogurn's compartment, which she had not really looked at closely since the first time she'd come in. Then she'd been so taken with the crystal tapestry, and absorbed in her own anxieties, that she'd not noticed much else. But now she peered about, surrept.i.tiously and a little guiltily, feeling like a trespa.s.ser.

The cabin was decorated with some expensive-looking oddments of art, mostly sculpture, and in his half-open wardrobe she noted the sheen of silken, satiny cloth. She turned toward the door again, and was startled to realize that the wall to the left of the door was a full-sized holo-screen, with controls on a panel in the corner. With a hasty glance back at Mogurn's unmoving figure, she thumbed through the holo-selection. She stopped, flus.h.i.+ng, when she realized that at least half the t.i.tles sounded like p.o.r.nography. Serves you right for prying, she thought. But as she turned once more to leave, she noticed two other items framed on the wall. She stepped over for a closer look. One was a series of holo-prints: a young dark-skinned woman with a haunted gaze, a humanoid Denedrite with intense red eyes and a pointed nose, and an incredibly pale young man with an expression as desperate and defeated-looking as that of the woman's. Jael sensed at once that all three were riggers. What else could they be? Mogurn's former riggers? What had become of them? she wondered with a s.h.i.+ver. She looked at the other item. It was a legal doc.u.ment, bearing the seal of the planetary government of Eridani Prime - a long-settled and powerful world. She scanned the text.And suddenly had trouble breathing.

The paper was a certificate of indictment against one Deuteronomous Mogurn, in federal planetary court of Eridani Prime. The indictment listed six counts of smuggling, three counts of receipt of stolen property, and two counts of possession of illegal goods. The specifics were listed, and at the bottom of the list, under the heading of illegal goods, one word caught her eye:pallisp.

She blinked, staring at that word, a feeling of despair rising in her. ”d.a.m.n you ...” she whispered.

She'd never heard of a pallisp before this trip - but it was illegal on one of the most important worlds in the known galaxy. And what about the rest of this? Mogurn had been brought up on all of these charges.

Or had he? Squinting at the bottom of the sheet, she saw a date and time: his scheduled hearing. Beside the date was scrawled a single exclamation:Hah! Trembling, she turned to look back at Mogurn, twitching and pawing himself: the man whose s.h.i.+p she was flying; the man who had framed his own certificate of indictment, apparently as a badge of honor. Had he escaped from that world before he could be brought to trial? It certainly helped explain his unregistered status at Gaston's Landing - not that anyone there was likely to notice, or care about, an outstanding warrant.

It could also explain Mogurn's reluctance to discuss his cargo. She'd let the question pa.s.s because he had the right to confidentiality. But now she wondered, what hadn't he wanted her to know?

Heart pounding, she crept out of the cabin. Mogurn was still inert, his head rolled to one side, his eyes closed. Leaning against the wall outside, panting, she let the door turn opaque behind her. Then she staggered into the commons room and sat and listened to the thundering of her heart and prayed,Dear G.o.d - if there is a G.o.d - tell me what I've done!

All she heard was the rus.h.i.+ng and pounding of blood in her veins.

After a time, she rose and went out into the hall and stood by the ladder that led down to the engineering decks. Would it also take her to the cargo holds? She might be able to see for herself what the s.h.i.+p was carrying - if she had the nerve.

She stood by the open hatch, staring down into the gloom. At last she sighed painfully and turned away.

She went to her cabin and locked the door, and there she brooded, huddling on her bunk in near darkness. And after a long rime, she felt her eyelids growing heavy, and eventually she curled into a tight ball and slept a sleep of exhaustion.

She confronted Mogurn at breakfast, though not immediately. She pushed some pieces of cut-up griddle cake around on her plate for a while, then said, ”What is our cargo, anyway?” After waiting a moment for an answer, she realized that she had spoken too softly to be heard. Mogurn was scratching his beard, muttering to himself as he pored over a datapad at his elbow. Jael had no idea what he was studying. She chewed a syrup-dampened bite. She started to repeat her question, then hesitated, and instead blurted, ”I saw the certificate on your wall.” She looked down again and stabbed another square of griddle-cake.

When she raised her eyes, Mogurn was gazing at her. She realized that he was squinting in puzzlement.

She cleared her throat and started to say, ”The ... court thing -”

”What did you say?” he asked, cutting her off. ”Something about my wall?”

Jael's face burned, her stomach knotted. ”Your certificate,” she said. ”I saw it.”

”My what?””Your - ” Her throat constricted and she tried one more time, taking a deep breath. ”You were indicted. You were in trouble for smuggling. And for - ” Her throat tightened again, but she saw the sudden flash of understanding, and the glint of amus.e.m.e.nt in his eyes, and she was suddenly determined to speak her mind. For the pallisp, she thought. For the d.a.m.n pallisp. ”For possession of stolen goods,”

she said.

Mogurn c.o.c.ked his head.

”And illegal goods. Including ...”

”Yes?” he said in an exaggerated tone. ”Including what?”

”Including ... the pallisp.”

”I see. And does that bother you?”

”Yes, it -”

”You're enjoying the pallisp, aren't you?” he interrupted. ”Do you think that just because something is illegal on one world, it is therefore wrong, somehow?”

”You were ... stealing,” Jael stammered. ”You were smuggling.” Mogurn shrugged, making no effort to deny the charge. And, she noticed, he didn't seem to object to her having seen it. Perhaps he'd even posted it in the expectation that whatever rigger was serving him would see it.

”Actually,” Mogurn said finally, turning off his datapad, ”all you know is that I was charged with those things. You don't know that I was guilty of any of them.” He smiled placidly and stroked his beard, as though tempting her to respond.

”I don't hear you denying it,” Jael said hotly.

”True,” he admitted. He raised his dark eyebrows. ”Would you like me to deny it?”

Jael tried to control her anger. What happened to your last rigger? she wanted to ask, but couldn't voice the words. She wanted to rage at him; she was so tightly coiled, so angry that she didn't know how to answer. ”I would like to know,” she said coldly, giving each word measured emphasis, ”where you got the pallisp. And what it is doing to me.”

Mogurn smoothed down the front of his navy blue satin s.h.i.+rt and pulled together the front of the violet-trimmed vesta that hung loosely around his shoulders. His eyes came to a focus, and he pressed his palms together in front of his lips to hide a frown. ”Of course. What shall I tell you? That it is a medical instrument? That it is utterly safe when used with knowledge and care?” As he gazed at her, his eyes seemed to be intently gauging her response.

”Medical instrument?” she muttered, trusting him less than ever.

”Yes, of course.” Mogurn tipped his head to one side. ”Well, psych-med, actually. It is said to have certain uses in the treatment of, for example, severe depression.”

Then why are you using it on me? she wanted to shout.

”I find, however, that many people enjoy its use.” Mogurn steepled his forefingers, interlocking his hands in front of his face. ”It must be used with caution, of course. There are those who would tell you it is ...

addictive, who are terrified by that thought, and I ... well, I do not accept such claims. It is simply aquestion of using it correctly.”

”Addictive?” she whispered, so softly he could not have heard.

”There is no reason to fear it. After all, the pallisp brings pleasure, does it not?” Mogurn's voice softened.

”Don't we all enjoy the sensation of pleasure? Pure pleasure, unadulterated by the complications that muddy our lives, the petty jealousies and guilt that rob us of whatever grim joys fate brings into our lives?” His gruff voice became almost delicate. ”Isn't that something that all people should have the right to enjoy? Even riggers? Shouldn't riggers have that right, too, Jael?”

Jael swallowed; she had no idea how to answer anymore. Perhaps there was some truth in his words, but she was speechless with anger at the way she'd been manipulated. Speechless with fear. And with, even now, an almost overwhelming desire to go under the pallisp again. To feel the warm caress of its presence within her mind, and the tickling suggestion of love and companions.h.i.+p against her soul. To feel the golden light of that inner sun - ”Is there anything else you wanted to discuss, Jael?”

Startled, she tried to think. Yes!What about the theft, the smuggling ... ? None of the words made it to her lips.

Mogurn had risen to his feet. ”We do, after all, have flying to do. A s.h.i.+p to bring into port.” His brusque hurry-up tone had returned. ”If you've finished with your breakfast ...” He gestured impatiently as he turned to leave the commons.