Venus Rising

by Speer, Flora

  “He never stopped asking questions. He was my most difficult pupil,” Jon told Narisa, “and my most brilliant. I hoped he would become a teacher himself, but Almaric wanted him to enter the Service.”

  “And see what has become of me,” Tarik said too softly for the guards to hear.

  “Never mind.” Jon Tanon laid a blue-veined hand on Tarik’s arm. “With Almaric behind you, this trouble will not last long. Ah, here are your parents.”

  Kalina wore a black gown trimmed with silver, similar in style to Narisa’s. On her tall, dignified figure it was most impressive and stately. Almaric, in his black and silver Assembly Member’s uniform, complimented his wife’s dignity.

  “We are eating a little early,” Kalina said to Narisa, “because Almaric and I are required at an official function this evening.”

  “It will offer a marvelous opportunity,” Almaric added, “for me to speak with many of my friends. Assembly business is so pressing, we do not often have time for informal conversations.”

  Narisa understood from this that Almaric would spend the better part of the evening trying to convince his fellow Assembly Members that Tarik was telling the truth. Kalina would probably do the same with her friends. Narisa began to feel more hopeful about Tarik’s and her own prospects.

  When they sat down at the red stone table, all six of their guards sat with them, a guard at every second place. Narisa was deeply offended at this invasion of a private meal, but Almaric and Kalina treated the guards as though they were invited guests, and Tarik was a model of politeness, successfully hiding the irritation Narisa knew he must feel.

  “I know you will excuse us,” Almaric said to the leader of the guards when the meal had ended. “Please stay here and have all the wines and sweets you want. My servants are available to you at any time.”

  “Where are you going, sir?” inquired the guards’ leader.

  “A brief family conference before my wife and I leave for the Assembly chambers,” Almaric told him.

  “And the old man? Master Teacher, you are no family member.” In contrast to his deferential attitude toward Almaric, the guard looked threateningly at Jon.

  “A dear friend and advisor.” Almaric took the teacher’s arm and helped him to rise. “His knowledge of Jurisdiction law and history will be helpful in resolving my son’s difficulties. Jon is spending the night with us.”

  “Go, then.” The leader of the guards, perhaps thinking he had previously been too lenient with his charges, now seemed to feel a need to assert himself. “You, Member Almaric, and your wife, may leave the house, since it is on Assembly business, but these other three must remain above the second floor once they go up those stairs. No evening strolls in the garden, no wandering around the lower levels where the outside doors are.”

  “For myself,” Narisa declared, glad to rise from the table and end the strain of sitting between two guards, “I will be happy to stay in my room. It has been a long and tiring day.”

  They made their way back to the secure room in Kalina’s quarters. After a quick discussion of how much Almaric should tell his friends when meeting them at a public and official function, Tarik’s parents left.

  “And now,” Jon said, rubbing his hands together, his pink face shining with eager anticipation, “tell me about this new planet you have discovered. I want to know everything.”

  It was long hours later before Jon sought his room, leaving Tarik and Narisa near exhaustion from all his questions.

  Narisa stretched in her chair. “Do you think it was wise to tell him about the birds? I would rather have kept their existence a secret. Talking about telepathy, even a primitive kind like theirs, is dangerous.”

  “Not when we are talking to Jon.” Tarik sat on the carpets by Narisa’s chair. He laid one arm across her knees in a familiar gesture that warmed her heart. “I would trust Jon with my life.”

  “You just did, my love.” He smiled at her use of that phrase, and moved his hand along her thigh, warming her body’s most secret places. “Do you know, Tarik, there was a time when I thought I would never see you smile?”

  “That was before I knew you could love me.” He slid his hand higher. Narisa felt herself begin to tremble. Her need for Tarik was like a disease, growing stronger each time he touched her, until she would be completely consumed by it. It might kill her before they were done with upcoming dangers. She did not care. The joy of loving him, and knowing he loved her, was compensation for any punishment the Assembly could have in store for them. Tarik had filled the empty places in her heart, healed the wounds left by the death of her family, and most important, he had opened her mind, so she was capable of seeing and understanding facts she had ignored or been blind to before.

  “I love you, Tarik.”

  “Come here.” He pulled her down into his arms. “Lie with me again.”

  She pressed herself against him where he still sat. “Tarik, I don’t know how you are going to get me out of this dress. I can’t do it by myself. I have never seen any garment with so many closures and so much material.”

  “I could always just pull up your skirt.” He reached for the hem of the dress and tugged at it. Narisa tried to stop him, laughing and slapping at his hands. He pulled again, catching more of the fabric this time. She tipped over, rolling onto the floor, tangled in her dark green draperies. With her bare right arm she caught him, and he landed on top of her, laughing as hard as she was, and buried his face in her well-covered bosom. There he stayed for a time, caressing her through all the thick folds of her gown while she stroked his thick hair, weaving her fingers through the heavy strands. Their laughter gradually dissipated as the tension between them grew.

  “You may be content with this,” he whispered after a while, “but I am not.” He unfastened the brooch at her left shoulder and pulled the dress down rather roughly to expose her breasts, further entrapping her left arm in twisted material.

  “I can’t move,” she complained.

  “You don’t need to. I’ll do it all.” He proceeded to plunder her throat and shoulders and breasts, holding her right hand prisoner while his strong legs straddled her, giving her no choice but to submit to the delicious torture his lips were inflicting on her. He began pushing the dress farther down her body, reaching beneath it to caress her abdomen. With his mouth he burned a path of fire upon her skin.

  “Tarik, stop,” she moaned. “I heard something tear.”

  “My trousers, I’m sure.” Although his voice was muffled against her skin, she could hear renewed laughter. But when he spoke again, it was with anguish. “If I don’t get this ridiculous dress off you soon, I’ll explode.”

  “I know, I feel the same way,” she gasped. “Let my hand go, my love, and I’ll help. Let me go·”

  He freed her right hand, and together they pushed and pulled at the dress until it was down around her ankles and she could kick it away. Her shoes had been lost long before, and now the gold band in her hair fell off, too. She wore no undergarments, the dress being constructed so she would not need them.

  Narisa felt gloriously free, as though she had been released from chains. She stretched luxuriously, feeling the silky pile of the thick Demarian carpets against her back. They made a wonderful bed, soft and firm at the same time. She stretched again and preened, deliberately inciting Tarik to greater passion.

  The moment her dress had come off, he had begun tearing at his uniform jacket. She reached for the waist of his trousers and saw he had not been far wrong when he had said he would explode. His desire for her was obviously desperate, and knowledge of his need increased her own desire. She slid her hands along his flanks as she slipped his trousers lower. With a deep, rumbling growl he finished the job himself, removing trousers and boots with one rapid motion. When he turned toward her, she caught at him, pulling him down on top of her again, his body hot and hard and brimming with barely contained passion.

  Narisa, laughing aloud from the pleasure of his touch, raise
d one knee and hip and pushed hard. She was strong, and he had not expected the sudden movement. She managed to tumble both of them over until she was on top of him. His shout of surprised laughter changed to a moan of sensuous delight as he achieved what he wanted most. She straddled him, and he became part of her, filling her completely while he caressed her breasts until she screamed, and screamed again in ecstasy as her moment came upon her. He pulled her down hard to stop her mouth with his tongue, and she lay quivering and shaking on his chest while he poured himself into her.

  Something filled Narisa’s heart as she lay in Tarik’s loving arms, an ancient, atavistic desire that shook her to her very roots and cut the last bonds of unquestioning loyalty to Jurisdiction and Service.

  “I love you,” Tarik whispered, kissing her brow.

  “Tarik,” she said, “I want your child.”

  He tightened his arms around her and lay without speaking for a moment. Narisa, her face hidden against his chest, held her breath, fearing rejection. His response, when it came, was a harsh whisper.

  “Are you sure?”

  “I am absolutely certain.”

  “So am I.”

  She raised her head to find his night-dark eyes suspiciously moist. She kissed him quickly before her own emotions could overcome her. It was more than a kiss they shared then; it was a pledge.

  “Until this morning,” he said after they had both gotten their feelings in hand again, “you might have had a chance for approval of an application to reproduce. You are the last surviving member of your family. The Reproductive Agency would have favored you for that. I might even have had a chance of being approved as the father. But I doubt the Agency will be so amenable to either of us now.”

  “No,” she agreed. “After my outburst in the Assembly chambers, my application would never be accepted for consideration, much less approved. Jurisdiction law is wrong in this matter, Tarik.”

  “I never thought I’d hear you say that.” There was no laughter in him now. He smoothed back her ruffled hair with great tenderness. “What do you suggest we do, my love? I have a few ideas of my own, but what do you say?”

  “There are two possibilities,” she told him. “We can leave the Capital as your father suggested earlier and return to the Empty Sector. Jurisdiction law does not apply there, and we could live as outcasts. Or, we can change the law.”

  “Dangerous words. Have I done this to you?” he wondered aloud. “Have I made you into a rebel?”

  “I have never before wanted to do anything important that was against Jurisdiction law or Service regulations,” she replied. “Perhaps I would have come to this myself in time, but you opened my mind, Tarik. You and the birds and that strange, beautiful planet. There, I was forced to think in different ways. I want your child, and if you want it, too, we will find a way.”

  “Before we can do that,” he reminded her, “we must deal with the Cetan threat. If we survive it, and if my father and his friends can convince the Assembly to be lenient…” His voice slowed and stopped.

  “The Cetans.” Narisa took a deep breath. “All else must wait until they are defeated. And if they are not, if the Jurisdiction loses the battle with them, our plans will remain hopeless dreams.”

  “Then,” Tarik told her, “we must see to it that the Jurisdiction does not lose the battle.”

  Chapter Ten

  She could not get back into the green dress alone. Tarik had to help her, with time out for much tender laughter and many kisses and sweet, mischievous caresses, which ignited new fires between them. At one point he pulled the dress off her again so they could make love one more time before parting. They never did get it adjusted so it would hang as it should.

  Narisa was glad the corridors were deserted when she made her way back to her own chamber, and very grateful to find Chatta asleep on a low couch. It was just as well that Chatta could not see the rumpled dress. Narisa liked the little maid, but she did not want Chatta gossiping about her relationship with Tarik. Any information about Narisa and Tarik that leaked back to the Assembly and its Leader could be used against them, or against Almaric.

  Narisa pulled off the hated dress, dropping it carelessly over a chair, and crawled into the huge, heavily-draped bed. She was not sleepy, which was just as well. She had a great deal to think about.

  When she and Tarik made love, they had shared more than physical intimacy. Each had touched the other’s innermost being, and their agreement to have a child bound them together in love and trust. They belonged to each other for the rest of their lives. Tarik was the man for whom her heart and soul had longed. She could never take another into her heart or into her arms, and she believed he felt the same way about her.

  She knew their love for each other would not keep them safe. They might be separated by a ruling of the Assembly when their punishment was decided. But before that could happen, one or both of them would very likely be killed when the Cetans attacked, unless they could convince someone in power to prepare a defense. Never before had Narisa held such hopes for the future, and never had the future seemed so elusive.

  She sighed, turning over in the too-soft bed. How complicated everything had become. How simple life had been before she learned to love Tarik. Simple and easy, she told herself scornfully, to be oblivious to reality. She was fully aware now, and she had no desire to retreat into her former state of blind obedience. Because of Tarik she was happy, and she was terrified at the same time. And most important, she was determined to fight for what she wanted, if need be until there was neither breath nor blood left in her body. She knew Tarik would be at her side to the end.

  Drifting toward sleep at last, Narisa’s thoughts turned to Dulan’s planet, to the simplicity and freedom it offered. She could almost see the birds behind her closed lids, and their calls echoed in her heart.

  Chon. Chon-chon. Return one day. Return. Return.

  Chatta greeted the new morning with the announcement that Mistress Kalina would like to see Narisa as soon as she had dressed and eaten.

  Narisa decided to wear her Service uniform. She would not, she told Chatta firmly, be fastened into another complicated gown like the one she had worn the night before.

  “You will not have to,” Chatta replied with her usual series of giggles. “Mistress Kalina ordered Beltan dress prepared for you. She thought you would find it more comfortable.”

  Chatta held up a cream-colored garment. Narisa snatched it from her fingers with a delighted cry. She had not worn the dress of her youth since she first put on a Service uniform. It slipped easily over her head, the rounded neck circling the base of her throat, the long narrow sleeves wrist length. Chatta fastened the small silver clasps along the left shoulder. The ankle-length un-cinched garment was narrowly cut so it clung to her figure, yet it was loose enough for easy movement. The footwear Kalina had sent was Beltan, too- flat sandals with silver strips winding between her toes and around her ankles. On Belta, Narisa would have worn a wide silver bracelet on each wrist. There were none to be had, but she did not care.

  “This,” she said happily, “is much more comfortable than the clothing you wear here at the Capital.”

  “It looks like an undergarment for the cold season.” Chatta sniffed, offended. She brightened, however, when Narisa said she was needed for an important errand, and sent her off to Service Headquarters to get a supply of the pills that prevented growth of body hair.

  “My Mistress Kalina has some,” Chatta exclaimed. “I’m sure she would share them with you.”

  “I’m certain she would,” Narisa agreed, “but the Service provides them free to all its personnel. There is no need to take Kalina’s pills.” She had an ulterior motive for sending Chatta. She hoped the talkative, friendly girl would pick up any gossip that was circulating about the Cetan threat, and some hint of what, if anything, the Service proposed to do about it. Almaric undoubtedly had more orthodox sources of information, but Narisa wanted to hear what ordinary Service people were
saying. With Chatta on her way, Narisa hurried to meet Kalina in the little square hall just outside the secure room.

  “There is someone I want you to meet,” Kalina said after Narisa had finished thanking her for the new Beltan clothes. “This may be difficult for you, Narisa, but please listen to what she says and believe her as I do. It is extremely important that you do. How I wish Almaric and Tarik were here.”

  “Where are they?”

  “They left early this morning with Jon. I can’t say more here.” Kalina opened the door and motioned to Narisa to enter before her.

  There, in the center of the secure room, stood a woman who was a few inches shorter than Narisa, who had flame red hair, large green eyes and a voluptuous figure.

  “Suria, what are you doing here?” It was Tarik’s former lover, who had been navigator of the Reliance before Narisa, the sensuous, throaty-voiced creature of whom Narisa had been so jealous.

  “Greetings, Narisa.” Suria put out her hand, and under Kalina’s expressive look, Narisa felt compelled to take it. “I came here to warn you.”

  “Of what?” Narisa wanted to shout that Tarik was hers, and that Suria had no right to come back into his life. She could not keep the hostility out of her voice. “What do you want, Suria?”

  “Narisa, please.” Kalina moved between the two younger women. “I asked you to listen to Suria. I have known her for years, and I am certain she is telling the truth. Let us sit down and speak rationally.”

  Narisa sat, perching on the edge of a chair, never taking her eyes off Suria, who sank gracefully into another chair, while Kalina took the third one. Narisa had noticed something about Suria, and could not contain her curiosity. Suria wore the simple wrapped garment over trousers that was the costume of her home planet. Her waist was tiny, and though her hips curved in a way that must be inviting to men, her abdomen was flat.

  “I understood,” Narisa said in a slightly more pleasant tone than before, “that you left the Reliance in order to reproduce. It has been more than six months since that time, yet your figure is unchanged. Has no genetically suitable father been found?”