No Such Thing

by Michelle O'Leary

  Some of the tension went out of him, but his expression was still worried when he met her gaze. "But they won’t like what the Chief did. What’ll they do?"

  She gave him a grimace, trying for nonchalance. "I’ll get a talking to, most likely. Not for what the Chief did, but for forgetting to put the snood back on. They only let me out without it this morning because I asked if they wanted the whole crew to puzzle out what it did." She gave him a conspiratorial little smile and was rewarded with a lightening of his expression.

  "They’ll just chew you out some, then?" he asked, eyes still full of dark blue shadows.

  She lifted one shoulder in a careless shrug. "I’ll get the big speech on protocol and safety measures. It won’t be the first time. But I should get in there and get it over with." She hesitated then reached out to him, immensely relieved when he closed his warm fingers around hers without pause. "Thank you," she said simply, unable to express the full extent of her gratitude for everything he’d done for her today.

  She was rewarded with his sunshine smile and his warm honey voice, as he said, "My pleasure." Mother of god, the boy was just simply beautiful, murderously gorgeous. At least, she felt like she might be in danger of dying, the way her heart was staggering around in her chest. Somehow, basking in the warmth of his smile and his touch, she couldn’t bring herself to care. She’d just die happy.

  She had no idea how long she stood there on the verge of a happy death, gazing into the warm sky of his eyes with a wobbly smile and equally wobbly knees, but eventually her brain started functioning again. Taking a deep breath, she let go of his hand and stepped back. "Will I see you—?"

  "Yes," he answered before she could finish, a twinkle in his eyes. "Anytime, anywhere. You call, I come running."

  She couldn’t suppress a surprised giggle at the image. "Um, don’t you have to work?"

  "You’re the telenetic, second in rank only to the commander. If you want me for your own personal slave, nobody’ll have a thing to say. I’d like to volunteer, actually," he added with a grin, putting a splayed hand on his chest and inclining toward her in a little bow.

  She laughed again, breathless for some reason and completely unable to stop smiling. "I’ll keep it in mind," she managed to say as she opened her door. "See you later, then?"

  He nodded, still gazing at her with a warm light in his eyes and a teasing smile on his lips. With reluctant feet, she backed through the doorway, lifting a hand in response to his little salute as the door closed between them. Then she sighed with dwindling euphoria, watching the color drain from her world as she turned to do her duty.

  Chapter 6

  Declan couldn’t feel his feet and didn’t care. He was so filled with Ryelle that there was little room for anything else as he floated through the ship. She had smiled and laughed, and he didn’t think there was a sound he’d ever loved more. Already he was plotting new ways to make a fool of himself just so he could hear her laugh again. He was also working on excuses to see her again.

  Would the Chief let him attend her next rock clearing session? That had been so spacin’ blaze—he still could hardly believe what he’d seen, the ‘roids whirling in a dance that was as precise as it was beautiful, and then lining up as neat as you please, forming a tunnel big enough for two Odysseys. Even more amazing—she hadn’t seemed the least bit tired. The full body tingling that he’d felt during her use of power only added to his pleasure in the experience.

  That was a little puzzling, though. Every time he touched her, he received a jolt of sensation, a tingling that whispered over his skin like electric kisses. He was starting to get used to it, at least enough so that he could still function, so that he could mostly hide his delighted responses. But the Chief and Mina hadn’t seemed affected at all when they held her hand. And when she’d worked her telenetic magic, none of the rest of the crew seemed to feel anything, while he could barely keep from humming in pleasure and begging for more.

  He shivered, remembering the whisper of sensation over every millimeter of his skin and the feel of something else, a pressure just out of range that promised so much more. He shifted restlessly in his clothes, wondering why no one else had acted like they were desperate to get closer to her, to press against her until there was not a molecule of space left between them. The commander had stood right next to her and hadn’t even twitched. Was he the only one who could feel it? Why?

  The mystery couldn’t hold his attention for very long, though. He didn’t really want to question something that felt so good, and other memories of being with her took precedence. Her smile, the way she would lean toward him when he held her hand and watch him with those midnight eyes as they spoke. She had such a sophisticated way of talking that he felt like a moron in contrast, but she seemed interested in what he had to say. He knew that her childhood hadn’t been normal and that the Institute had trained her to be as much a diplomat as a weapon, but she still amazed him with her points of view. He marveled over the way she saw things, the way her mind worked, the way that some complicated things seemed so simple to her and the everyday things seemed so mysterious.

  He marveled over her. No doubt about it, he was falling hard and fast, and couldn’t seem to care. He should care, he supposed. He was so far beneath her in rank that he practically disappeared. He’d never felt this…delirious about another human being in his life and she could hurt him so badly in so many ways. Just removing her hand from his had felt like an amputation. What if she decided not to see him again?

  He shook his head, pushing away the spear of panic before it could sink in. She’d said she would. And outside her door, she’d held out her hand to him and smiled up at him, her eyes soft and welcoming like dark velvet. He’d wanted to hold her so badly. To kiss her. Would she ever let him do that?

  He shivered with longing, his heart breaking into a sprint. He nearly fell down the auto-ladder shaft before fumbling the energy disc into existence. Remembering the feel of her silky skin under his fingers, he heaved a deep sigh. He should just be content with that for now. She wasn’t used to people touching her, he reminded himself. He needed to go slow, not scare or upset her. Then he remembered the curious look she’d shot him when the Chief had kissed his wife’s hand and a delighted smile tugged at his mouth. Well, maybe not too slow.

  He arrived at engineering in one piece, though he couldn’t remember how he’d gotten there. He went through the motions of preparing for a day of work without much attention and headed into the Chief’s office with a sense of anticipation. The Chief was watching several views of the cavern with his usual serenity, hands tucked in the small of his back.

  "Sir," Declan greeted him.

  "Good morning again, Declan," the Chief said and seemed about to add something else as he turned to look at his young crew member. But he started chuckling instead.

  "Sir?" Declan felt an easy, answering grin stretch his face, not sure what was so funny, but perfectly willing to go with it.

  "Son, if you glow any brighter, we’ll be able to plug you into the Odyssey and give those engines a rest."

  Declan felt his face flush but kept grinning. "Whatever works, sir."

  "Ah, young love," the Chief chuckled a bit more before lifting his eyebrows. "Did you have something you needed to discuss?"

  "Um…" He shuffled his feet, feeling his face grow even warmer. "I just wondered if I might, ah, be there when she—Ryelle, I mean—moves the rest of the ‘roids."

  The Chief turned to him, face sobering, and Declan’s heart plunged. "Now, young Declan, I understand your desire to see her again, but this is not a pleasure cruise. As a member of her crew, you’re expected to work the Odyssey in your chosen capacity, not dance attendance on her telenetic."

  Declan dropped his eyes to the floor and nodded, body shifting into stiff, military attention. "Yes, sir," he said mournfully to the man’s shoes.

  "On the other hand," the Chief added with a hint of mischief in his tone, "I seem to recall a requisit
ion for a refit of an auxiliary panel on the command deck. Let’s see here…" He touched one of the screens in front of him, scrolling through data while Declan’s heart rebounded and he rediscovered his grin. "Ah, yes. Analyzing station four has had trouble with the auxiliary systems and has requested work on it. That seems within your range of expertise, wouldn’t you say?"

  "Yes, sir!" Declan responded with renewed energy.

  The Chief chuckled again. "That’s settled, then. I’ll contact the commander and discover what time would be…advantageous for your arrival. Hmm?"

  "Thanks, Chief," Declan said, grin widening as he worked to keep from dancing.

  "Well, our telenetic is certainly a wonder."

  "Amazing in every way, sir."

  "So you said," the Chief commented with a twinkle in his eyes. "Blaze—was that the word?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Fascinating. Off you go, then."

  Declan danced out the door, feeling like his blood had been replaced with bubbles, and went to find Bags. He still couldn’t feel his feet. He still didn’t care.

  The afternoon found Declan on the command deck, pretending to work while watching the entrance for Ryelle’s arrival. The auxiliary panel had only needed a few simple tweaks. He was already done but planned to use his pass onto the deck to its fullest. Commander Task had nodded to him when he first arrived, giving him a flush of pride and pleasure at the recognition, but he’d noticed a slight curl to the man’s lips that was a little disconcerting. What had the Chief said to him?

  There was no extra crew on deck besides the normal shift, so no one else had been invited to watch this next demonstration of Ryelle’s telenetic ability. Declan felt a little self-conscious about being there and bent over the panel to fiddle with it industriously. No one seemed to be paying him any attention.

  A moment later, she was there. Declan dropped his pretense of industry and just watched her, safe enough since everyone else was doing the same. She was in the same somber blue dress that she’d been wearing that morning and moved with that same mysterious grace that so baffled him, but his stomach clenched to see the silver net back in place over her dark hair. Her eyes made a quick pass over the crew and when she met his gaze, her cool calm warmed into a small smile, before she continued on to the commander.

  He took a deep breath, a soul-deep quiver running through him. Oh, yeah, falling hard and fast. He didn’t hear their low conversation, but he watched the commander point out their location, which was in the middle of the scatter field almost at the end of the tunnel she’d created.

  Then the commander turned to another officer and asked, "Scans?"

  "Inconclusive, sir. The scatter field’s too disruptive. They could be anywhere."

  Oh . He wanted her to scan for more GenTecs. Declan frowned, wondering if the commander really expected to find more. Maybe the other ships had signaled a distress before they were destroyed, or maybe he thought the other GenTecs might get curious if they couldn’t reach the two that had been in the field.

  "Not to worry," Ryelle said as she stepped forward and removed her hair net, sending the commander a little challenging glance that gave Declan a pang. "I can scan everywhere."

  Then she closed her eyes and Declan felt the full force of her power.

  He hadn’t before—he’d been standing behind her when she’d scanned through the field and moved rock. This time he understood what he’d sensed just out of range, the enormous ability that had been aimed away from him. It nearly brought him to his knees.

  He gasped and braced his hands on the console, but he wasn’t aware of his actions. All he could do was feel. Her power rushed through him like a hurricane, touching him everywhere, stroking him everywhere, inside and out, every particle of him filled with her, this beautiful, powerful extension of her. It was more than tingles on his skin; it was a pleasure so intense and deep that he shook like a leaf in a gale, blinded and weak, aware of nothing but the sensation of her filling every corner in an excruciating flood.

  The pleasure built inside him with reckless speed, coiling tighter and pushing him relentlessly toward explosion. He didn’t even attempt to fight it, too far gone to remember that he was on the command deck in the middle of a bunch of crew. Then suddenly, her touch was gone, leaving him with a wrench that made him groan out loud.

  Panting, he lifted his head and saw Ryelle staring at him, wide-eyed and pale. She turned her face away quickly, saying something low and rapid to the commander.

  "Hey, crewman, you okay?" the officer at the next station asked and Declan remembered with an agony of embarrassment how not alone he was. Only the closest officer was looking at him, though.

  Slipping to his knees, he pressed his hot face against the console and muttered, "Yeah, just feeling a little sick. Something I ate." His hands shook so badly he almost couldn’t manage it, but he worked at the panel cover in front of him until he pried it off, trying to look busy. Trying to distract himself. Oh god, his body still ached with the remnants of pleasure. He couldn’t believe he’d almost lit off in front of the whole crew. His only saving grace was that everyone had been so engrossed in Ryelle that no one had noticed his little sideshow. Almost no one.

  "Should probably clear out," the officer said with waning concern. "You don’t look so good."

  "I’ll be okay, sir," he answered without looking, afraid the guy would suddenly realize it was lust and not illness that put the flush on his face. He did need to leave, he knew that, but he didn’t think his legs would hold him just yet. "Almost done here."

  The officer grunted but made no further protest, and Declan snuck a look over the edge of the console. Ryelle was still in conversation with the commander, her face a bland, serene mask while he frowned at her with arms folded. Something wasn’t quite right, but he was so flustered that he couldn’t think what it could be. Her shocked look had said she knew what had happened to him and that caused another wave of embarrassment to pass over him. Especially since just looking at her now still made his breath come quicker and heart thump hard in his chest.

  She moved away from the commander, taking a couple of measured steps to one side as her face turned toward Declan. The impact of her dark gaze made him stop breathing all together, but he wasn’t too far gone to notice her eyes flickering from him to the exit and back again. She wanted him to leave.

  Humiliation joined embarrassment and he scrambled to put the panels back together. At least she hadn’t said it out loud in front of the crew. Was she disgusted? Repulsed by his reaction?

  "You’re stalling, Ryelle," the commander said in a less than patient tone.

  "I’m pacing myself," she responded with amazing serenity as she turned back to him.

  "And making excuses."

  "A good telenetic does not overwork her ability."

  Declan scrambled faster as he realized what she was doing. She didn’t want to start using her power again until he was out of range. And she hadn’t told the commander why she was waiting. Was she protecting him or did she just not want to explain it? He couldn’t blame her for feeling squeamish—his face was still hot as hell over the whole event. Worse, part of the heat was still lust.

  A moment later, he headed out the door without a backward glance, struggling to keep a decent pace and not look as weak-limbed as he felt. He didn’t know how long she’d give him before continuing her work and he had ugly visions of writhing on the corridor floor for the entertainment of anyone passing by. He felt no return of her impossible touch, though, and made it all the way back to engineering before he realized that his quarters would have been a better destination if he was going to get hit by another dose of Ryelle.

  Warily, he stepped into the anteroom, but it was empty. Letting out a harsh, relieved breath, he stepped over the storage units and replaced the tools he’d used for the auxiliary panel job. Then he edged over to a control array, sat, and put his head in his hands. What in the name of the stars had happened? He was positive that he’d be
en the only one to feel anything of her power. His faith and confidence in Commander Task was unshakable, but even his famous control would have cracked in the face of such unimaginable sensations.

  He shuddered, feeling his body respond again at just the memory of her touch. Inside and out. He wasn’t even sure it was possible, that he could feel her everywhere inside him, but that’s how he’d perceived it. God, he would give almost anything to feel it again. No one could have hidden their response to that. So why was he the only one? From Ryelle’s shocked look, he was also positive that she hadn’t done it on purpose, that it wasn’t some special part of her talent that she’d exercised on him alone. And she hadn’t wanted to do it again—he gathered that much from her actions afterwards.

  He scrubbed rough hands over his face, trying to dispel the return of humiliated heat to his skin. How was he ever going to look her in the eye again? Would she even want to? She didn’t look disgusted when she’d silently urged him to leave, but he was coming to understand that she had as much control as their commander. She could have been hiding any number of emotions under that cool serenity. Including revolted horror over his response. Hell, she’d never even held hands with a guy before him—he’d probably made her sick or scared her off.

  He lurched to his feet, taking a fretful pace around the room before he realized that enough time had passed. She had to be done with her work by now, and he wasn’t going to feel a return of that insane pleasure. Relief and disappointment fought for center stage, twisting his gut uncomfortably.

  With a grimace, he hurried into the main engine room and went looking for Bags, desperate for the distraction of work. He threw himself into it with such vigor that he annoyed his fellow crewman to no end, but he was determined not to think. The harder he worked and the more he focused on the details of the tasks at hand, the less time he had to remember what had happened and wonder what she would do.