Stardoc

by S. L. Viehl

  “You are decided?”

  Of course I was decided. I knew what to expect as a Terran, and had researched the database for the specifics involved with his species. There weren’t many details, but I had learned that Jorenians and Terrans were completely sexually compatible. I’d even taken the precaution of getting a contraceptive booster.

  “I’m sure.” Saying that didn’t make me feel any more confident. It was my first time, and my hands shook as I fumbled with my tunic.

  Kao’s hands covered mine. “Allow me,” he murmured against my lips.

  My body, a disciplined, often-abused tool I always used without thought, slowly became a stranger to me. Kao’s hands gently freed me of my garments, and guided me as I helped to remove his. I was astonished to see several scars marring the perfection of his body. Deep ridges of old injuries marked his shoulder, side, and upper thigh.

  I touched the one above his heart. “What happened here?”

  “Warrior training,” he said, pulling me closer.

  That first touch of skin on skin was shocking. Before I could catch my breath, Kao began finding sensitive spots I never knew I had. The glide of his fingers over my shoulder left a trail of tingling warmth. Under his stroking palm, my breast swelled and flushed. My thighs trembled as he brushed his lips over my hair.

  This wasn’t so bad, after all.

  He lifted my chin. “You honor me, Cherijo,” he said. There was no equivalent for the word “love” in Jorenian, “honor” being the closest to it.

  “Yes. I love you, Kao.” Okay, so it didn’t translate.

  He understood me.

  His skin was damp beneath my fingers. I curved a hand around his neck, and discovered an odd, textured tattoo hidden beneath his hair, just below his left ear.

  “More warrior stuff?” It was dark, and shaped like the upswept wings of a bird. When I traced it with a fingertip, he groaned with pleasure and dropped to his knees. That put him exactly at my eye level.

  “My HouseClan symbol,” he muttered against the curve of my arm. I gasped as his face turned, and his mouth opened over my tightly beaded nipple.

  He ran over me like soft, warm rain, until there was no inch of skin he had not touched and stroked into awareness. This was what all the fuss was about, I thought. I could get used to it. My shivering euphoria quickly burst when I heard Kao say, “I would Choose you now, Cherijo Grey Veil.”

  What? I thought blankly, and went very still. “Now?”

  Kao frowned. “You said you were decided.”

  “Oh. I didn’t know you were talking about that.”

  What had happened to waiting for an eternity for me? “Um . . . can’t we talk about this later?”

  His brow touched mine. “I must. We cannot be intimate without Choice. It is forbidden.”

  Pre-Choice intimacy was forbidden? Great. Why wasn’t that in the database files, under Before you have sex with a Jorenian, read this? His timing was less than perfect, too. It would have been nice to know little details like this before he’d gotten me naked and half-crazed with desire. The only comfort I had now was knowing I wasn’t the only virgin in the room.

  I dimly heard him speak in his own language. “Etarra nek t’nili. M’adeunal,” he said. Then my TI kicked in when he repeated the ritual words. “Come with me to the eternity we share. Be my Chosen.”

  This was it. Like it or not, Kao wanted to Choose me. There would be no going back. I closed my eyes, steadied myself against him. Whatever I decided to do now would determine the course of our future forever. There was so much he didn’t know. I had to tell him, I thought, and opened my eyes.

  “I will not hurt you,” he whispered as his big hands moved over me, soothing my tense form. “But I will not let you go.”

  Maybe he would. “There are things you don’t know about me,” I said. “I have to tell you about—”

  Now his fingers touched my mouth. “It does not matter.”

  “It will,” I said as I pushed his hand away. “I’m not what you think I am.”

  “You are Cherijo Grey Veil. That is all that matters to me.”

  “Kao, I’m not—I am a—I’m—” I groped for the right way to tell him the happy news.

  “Cherijo, you could be a disguised Hsktskt, and my decision would not change. I will Choose no other.”

  What he meant was it was me or no one. Period. Forever. From what I knew of his people, he meant it, too. Like it or not, Jorenians mated for life.

  “All right,” I said at last. On the Jorenian bondmate desirability scale, a clone had to be better than a Hsktskt. Even a disguised one. “I’ll be your Chosen.”

  Kao rose to his feet. One arm encircled my hips, a muscle flexed, then suddenly I was at his eye level. My feet dangled two feet above the floor. Instinctively I wrapped my legs around him.

  In an unexpectedly fierce tone he said, “I claim my Choice.”

  He certainly did that. There was the sensation of being stretched, filled, pleasure edged by momentary pain. I was so absorbed in watching Kao’s reaction that I didn’t care. A moment later I was immersed in my own body’s response.

  The room began to whirl. We were entwined, moving together, until I felt breathless and dizzy. I needed something . . . wanted to . . . the pleasure changed, became torment, driving us together again and again, until the sensations nearly destroyed me.

  “Kao!”

  When I could breathe again, I floated down like a feather—drifting, untroubled, complete. I opened my eyes. We were still in the center of his quarters, clothing scattered around us. My hair and limbs were wrapped around him. He disengaged our bodies and gently placed me back on my feet. I smiled up at him.

  “Wow.” Someone needed to update the database. “That was incredible.” He brushed his lips over mine, but when he drew back I saw the bleakness in his eyes, felt the tension in his limbs. “Kao?”

  “I could not stop myself,” he said, his hand stroking the hair away from my brow. “I frightened you, hurt you.”

  “No.” I shook my head, swaying a little. “Not at all.” Now I understood why most patients got so upset whenever I had to temporarily restrict certain activities. I’d be mad, too.

  He lifted me up, carried me over, and placed me on his wide sleeping platform. Carefully he pulled the bed linens over me, and made as if to stand.

  I pulled him back down. “Don’t go.”

  “You are so small,” he said, and touched his forehead to mine. “I hurt you.”

  “It always hurts Terran females the first time,” I said, and smiled. “It wasn’t bad. I hardly noticed.”

  “Cherijo.” He sat next to me, held my hand between his. “You honor me, but I—”

  Hadn’t I said men never knew when to shut up? Exasperated now, I tugged his arm. “If you don’t get in bed with me this minute, I’ll do a lot more than honor you. You won’t like it, either.”

  His lips curved with relief. “I will never leave you again,” he said as he stretched out next to me. He placed one palm over my heart. “I dwell here forever.”

  Hours passed unnoticed as we lay together, holding each other. I slept for a long time, and when I opened my eyes his hands were caressing me. It was a great way to wake up. Each time we made love, the unique meld of our bodies thrilled me.

  “If we were on Joren, would we be bonded now?” I asked him once, my cheek pressed against his chest.

  “Almost,” was his reply.

  I lifted my head warily. “There’s more?”

  He rumbled a soft laugh at my disbelief. “Wait and see.”

  While we were together, Kao filled in some of the gaps about Jorenian sexuality. I learned a complete bond could only take place on Joren, where Kao’s entire HouseClan would acknowledge the match during a mysterious ceremony, and that Jorenian males control conception, through deliberate glandular repression (so much for my contraceptive booster).

  Leaving him after that night was the hardest thing I’d ever done. Whe
n I drew away from his last embrace, he turned me to a mirror and lifted my hair away from my throat. There, beneath my left ear, was the faintest shadow of a mark. A mark like the upswept wings of a dark bird.

  “E’amyorn keleah es, m’adeunam,” he said, and met my eyes in the glass. “You bear the mark of my honor, my Chosen. To remember, Cherijo.”

  I knew without asking, the mark would slowly grow darker, until it matched his. In the weeks to come, the only thing that kept me going at certain points was to lift my hand and touch the mark he’d left on me.

  To remember we would always be together.

  PART THREE:

  Complication

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Offplanet

  A week after Kao left his mark on my throat and my heart, I arrived at the FreeClinic and found my lab had been sealed off.

  Despite the apparent full recovery of the latest cases (including Rogan, who had promptly filed another malpractice charge against me), I was sure there was more at work here than a simple infectious bug. I’d spent the last seven rotations scanning, comparing, and dissecting every detail from the case profiles involved. I’d made no significant progress.

  Now I couldn’t get the damn door to open.

  I stabbed an impatient finger at the touchpad, which had been keyed to disregard my pass code. “I know I wasn’t that nasty to the sanitation crew yesterday.”

  “Dr. Grey Veil.” Dr. Mayer joined me, flanked by Administrator Hansen.

  “Hi, Ana. Dr. Mayer, I can’t get into my lab,” I said. “Whose toes have I stepped on now?”

  The chief turned to Ana. “How many off days did you tell me Dr. Grey Veil has been allocated since her initial transfer, Administrator Hansen?”

  “Thirty-two, sir.”

  I was startled. “That many?”

  “Of those, how many has she actually spent off duty?”

  Wait a minute, I thought. What exactly was going on here?

  “Fifteen.” Ana plucked an invisible piece of lint from her sleeve to avoid my glare. “A recent study of work-related stress syndromes illustrated the negative effects of blatant disregard for adhering to duty schedules.”

  “Negative effects?” I was indignant. “Blatant disregard?”

  “Indeed?” Mayer appeared thoughtful. “I would appreciate the chance to review the data myself.”

  Although they preferred to chat as though I was invisible, I’d had enough. I waved my hand to get their attention.

  “Excuse me? This is all very fascinating, but it won’t help me get this door panel open. Why has my lab been sealed?”

  “That,” Mayer said, “should be obvious. You are not scheduled for a shift today, Doctor.” Was that humor gleaming in the chief’s steely eyes? No. I must have been hallucinating.

  “Open the lab. Please,” I said.

  “Not today.”

  “I’ll take tomorrow off. I just want to finish a scan series that I—”

  “Not today,” Mayer said again. “I have scheduled transport for you that will leave K-2 within the hour.”

  “Transport?” My voice squeaked. “Offplanet?”

  “Think of it as a furlough.”

  “But I don’t want to go offplanet.”

  “You don’t have a choice, Doctor,” Mayer said. “You will either take a furlough, or report to psych services for a competency evaluation.” Nodding to Ana, the chief turned and strode away.

  Ana held up her open palms as I turned on her. She looked a little guilty. “Not my decision. Ready to go?”

  I closed my eyes. “Where?”

  “On a shuttle, into orbit, out of the—”

  “I get the general idea,” I said. “What’s to stop me from just going home and sleeping?” Or seeing Kao, my guilty conscience added, who had been very understanding lately about my obsession with finding the bug.

  “I get to escort you to the shuttle,” Ana said, putting her arm through mine and patting it like the good mother hen she was. “Chief’s orders.”

  “I liked it better when he hated me.”

  We stopped at my housing unit to check on Alunthri and Jenner and pack a few items. Alunthri was delighted by the news of my kidnapping and promised to look after Jenner. Ana admired the new living arrangements, which gave the Chakacat its own room and a private terminal. From what I’d learned, Alun Karas had relegated the big cat to a rug on the floor. I had refused to follow suit.

  While Ana was talking to Alunthri, I signaled Kao. There was no answer, so he must have been on duty. I left a message promising to signal him later.

  On the trip to the shuttle docks, we discussed my new roommate. Ana proposed that our unique living arrangement could help her fight to gain sentient status for the Chakacat. When we pulled up to Transport, the sight of a familiar, hulking silhouette made my jaw drop.

  “The Bestshot!” I said. “Why didn’t anyone tell me Dhreen was on planet!”

  “He just got here,” Ana said, and gave me a big, satisfied grin. “Go on, he’s waiting for you!”

  I paused long enough to give her a hug, which creased her perfectly pressed tunic and made her laugh.

  “Thanks, Ana.”

  Inside the shuttle, the Oenrallian was replacing some frayed cables with something somewhat less worn. Dhreen cheerfully hailed me as I made my way up the less-than-stable ramp. “Doc!”

  “Dhreen, I should have known you’d be in on this.” I gave him a half hug. “Still patching the old girl together?”

  “I don’t repair what isn’t fractured,” he said. “Come on inside and stow your stuff, we’re due for a launch slot. I’m waiting for one more passenger.”

  “Another passenger?”

  “One of the impossible-to-kills like you.”

  “Die-hards,” I said, then chuckled. Maybe I would enjoy this vacation, after all. “Where are they sending us?”

  “Caszaria’s Moon. A nice little retreat with all the amenities.”

  The other unnamed passenger strode up the ramp to enter the cabin. With a sinking sensation, I saw it was Chief Linguist Reever.

  “Oh, lovely,” I muttered.

  “Dr. Grey Veil,” Reever seemed even more disgruntled than I felt. “Pilot Dhreen.” He added something in the Oenrallian’s native tongue in too low a tone for my TI to pick up.

  “Whatever perfects your shield,” Dhreen replied. “Let’s get the gear tethered, I don’t want to miss this slot.”

  We took up positions on far sides of the passenger cabin and strapped in while Dhreen initiated launch. I examined the condition of my fingernails carefully. Reever seemed engrossed in a study of his footgear.

  The rumors going around the FreeClinic about me and Kao had obviously never made it to Ana’s ears. I’d never said much to her, either. I’d been a little too discreet about my love life, I decided. If Ana had known about Kao Choosing me, she would have never sent Reever along on this trip. And what was Kao going to say when he found out?

  “You can signal Pilot Torin when we reach Caszaria’s Moon,” Reever said, startling me. He was staring at the mark on my throat.

  I covered it with my fingers. “Don’t do that.”

  “Do what?”

  “Read my thoughts!”

  “They were apparent without need of a telepathic link,” he said.

  I didn’t believe him. “Did Ana Hansen have something to do with you being on this shuttle?”

  “Her exact words were, ‘Duncan, you either spend a few days offplanet or I have you undergo a psych-eval.’ ”

  “I’ll get even with her,” I said with dark pleasure.

  “There must be a Rilken convention I can steer her way in the near future.”

  Reever didn’t laugh, but then, I didn’t expect him to. I sighed. It was going to be a long two days and nights.

  “Have you ever been to Caszaria’s Moon?” I asked. Being polite seemed the best way to handle enforced close proximity. Seeing as I didn’t have a syrinpress of sedatives handy.<
br />
  “Yes.”

  “What’s it like?”

  “The asteroid is one thousand, four hundred Terran standard kilometers in diameter, artificial dome-contained atmosphere, five visitor centers which offer—”

  I held up my hand to stem the flow. “Okay, okay. Did you have fun?” No reaction. “Did you like it at all?”

  “I found it to be a suitable location for the particulars of the assignment.”

  I swallowed a groan. “You went there as a linguist, then.”

  “That is correct.”

  “Reever, have you ever lived on Terra for any length of time?”

  His eyes grew even more distant. “Four point two revolutions.”

  “Did you decide you hated Terrans so much that you would do everything within your power not to be like them?”

  Reever’s face went rigid, while the Bestshot rose through the layers of the lower atmosphere and slipped in between space. The moment passed, and his expression was as bland as ever.

  “I am biologically human,” was his response to my challenge. That was it. I even waited to make sure.

  “Having the hardware, so to speak, has very little to do with how it operates.”

  “Perhaps you’d care to show me,” he said.

  “What?”

  “Show me how to be human.”

  I simply sat back and closed my eyes. Well, I’d really asked for it.

  Caszaria’s Moon was only a few hours’ distance from K-2, in a neighboring system with twelve planets. Half of the sphere was desolate, lifeless terrain pocked by inky craters. The other half was encased by a pressure dome, beneath which the clever Caszarians cultivated verdant fields and forests, dotted with hostels. It was a beautiful place, offering all the nonessentials a tourist could want.

  I would have taken a nap on the way, but Dhreen returned to the passenger cabin to regale me and a decidedly silent Reever with his latest exploits.

  “I believe the part about the nebular cloud cities, but did you really brush flightshields with real space pirates?” I asked.