They boiled together in each other’s arms. Their scorching tongues wrestling playfully. Her hands moved over his flesh.
Every part of him hard and supple. Moist with sweat. Skin cool to the touch. Yet wherever her fingertips lingered, touching him generated searing heat.
His hands went to her face. Hard, calloused hands, but they caressed her with astonishingly desperate tenderness.
Ellis lined every contour of her face. Feathered her high cheeks and arching eyebrows. Played gently over her soft ears, like an artist sculpting them.
He eagerly buried his fingers in her dark hair. Pulled her hot wet mouth closer and deeper to his own. Still their lips did not part.
They gasped for breath from the sides of their mouths.
One of his hands slid down her back to her narrow waist and pulled her body closer to his own where she shivered and snaked against him.
They twisted from being side by side to her lying on top of him in his arms.
She stretched like a feline against him, generating even more impossible heat where their bodies worked together. She caught her breath slightly, enjoying the luxury of his hands on her body.
They slid up from her waist, caressing her sides. Up her ribs.
The door panel suddenly slid open.
There stood Jan and Tarim, along with the two Intel guards.
Jan laughed.
Tarim met her eyes for an instant. Then he turned pale as a corpse and walked away.
“Sorry, sib. We didn’t think Ellis was, uh...busy. Just let me know when you’re...done?”
Jan sounded genuinely surprised, neither amused, nor angry. Yet.
Naero jumped up. “Jan, come back here.”
Despite her attraction to Ellis, embarrassment came easy. She wasn’t used to sensual passion. It felt too much like something she couldn’t control.
Was that the real problem? Was that why she couldn’t take a lover? She needed too much control?
Jan looked back at her.
Oh, he was amused, all right.
A shit-eating weasel-smile plastered all over his sickening face.
“Look, it’s not what you think,” she said.
“I’m certainly not the one to judge, sib.”
“You got that right, Jan–the guy who’ll chase anything with a–”
“Whoa, whoa,” Ellis demanded. “What do you mean it’s not what he thinks?”
“No, I mean, it is what you think. Both of you. It’s obvious. There’s this attraction thing between Ellis and I. And don’t you look so pleased with yourself, Jan. So he’s a Matayan. So what?”
“Hey, sib. You don’t have to explain anything to me...”
He walked away.
“...but Aunt Sleak and the clan elders? Hoo-hoo! They might have something to say about it.”
He laughed again.
Naero’s face flushed hot.
She glanced at Ellis, but he simply smiled and shrugged. He held out his arms to her. “Life is always difficult.”
Naero rolled her eyes. “Oh, please.”
“You might practice by explaining it all to Tarim,” Jan said, glancing back. He shook his head and clucked his tongue. “Poor kid. You’ll probably find him locked in his room; heartbroken and sulking most likely.”
She covered her mouth and gasped slightly. “Damn the stars...Tarim. I forgot. I have to go explain things to him.”
Ellis looked somewhat oblivious. “I don’t understand. What is there to explain?”
“I’ll tell you later.”
“Good,” he said with a rakish smile. He grinned from ear to ear and leaned back on one elbow.
“I’ll be waiting.”
“I bet you will.”
Perhaps longer than he thought.
Now that the spell of the moment was broken, she wasn’t entirely convinced it would be the best choice to try to return to their little overheated moment. Perhaps she had been saved from making an even bigger mistake.
Naero raced through the deck of the ship to find Tarim, hoping she knew what she was getting herself into with her idiotic personal choices.
Trying to figure out what and how to say it to Tarim.
Again, why did Ellis have to be Matayan? She winced painfully at Tarim having to see them together like that.
33
Naero reminded herself that they still hid inside an old Spacer battleship at the bottom of the Memosan ocean, deep in enemy territory.
It grew harder to recall that sometimes. Making her way through the decks to Tarim’s quarters took a while, and he had a head start.
Along the way, because of Naero’s eye for ships, she couldn’t help noting various elements concerning the old ship’s design and construction.
Obsolete, triple-hull construction from the old days before advanced shielding and better armor choices. Bulky panel boxes and com nodes that did not sink into more advanced nanowalls or nanofloors. Less streamlining and simplification. Semi-active tronics that made odd noises on their own, for no apparent reason. Garish, colorful displays and control panels.
The Alamo, named after some obscure, ancient skirmish back on Old Terra centuries ago.
Naero made a mental note to take time to upload the history when possible, but Intel made certain they had little free time.
Some nights she couldn’t resist roving the decks of the big hulk, even if it did cut into her sleep.
Exploring The Alamo was like touring a museum piece.
Aunt Sleak told her that once, half a century or more in the past, such warships had been the pride of the Spacer Fleets. Two decades after that, The Alamo fought at the heart of the Fourth Spacer War.
Battered and partially gutted, she went down with her transports on Memosa-3 to effect repairs. By the time her teks refitted her for active duty, the battles swept past her and the wars ebbed. She performed interdiction and escort duty near the system until hostilities ceased completely.
Spacer Intel left her behind, mothballed beneath the ocean, joining the ranks of the Shadow Fleets.
Picking her way through the old ship also gave Naero time to think about how she needed to handle both Ellis and Tarim.
Intel’s preparations usually kept her and Ellis apart–perhaps intentionally. Maybe her aunt had something to do with that.
Conflicted didn’t begin to describe her feelings for Ellis.
With Tarim, she wanted to be honest. She knew he had feelings for her that she could never return in kind. Yet she liked and even admired him, and didn’t want to hurt him needlessly
She reached his door panel and buzzed. It slid open and closed behind her after she stepped in.
Tarim did not to look at her directly from where he sat moping on his bunk, his face ashen and set, visible even in his darkened room.
With his dark blue eyes and his black hair growing out, he actually looked pretty good, especially after months of training and proper diet had added some much needed muscle back onto his lanky frame. But for her, the spark of attraction simply wasn’t there like it obviously was for Ellis.
“Naero, don’t try to explain anything,” Tarim said to her softly. “I know how these things work. The more you try to explain things, the worse I’ll feel about them.”
“That’s not good enough, Tarim. They’re going to send us out soon on an escape run. We have to be able to count on each other.”
“I know that.” He kept his voice down with hers.
“We’re friends, Tarim. More than that. We’re crew now. And crew work things out. Up until now I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to hurt you. I ended up hurting you anyway.”
“Fine. Are you done?”
“Not hardly. We need to talk this out once and for all.”
He looked pretty angry and upset, but at last he nodded. “Okay. I guess a lot of it’s my fault too. I just know talking won’t change anything.”
“Tarim, I want to be friends. I like you.”
He sat straight up
and glared at her. “For a lander. Go ahead. Say it. I know I’m some kind of joke to your kind. Nobody says anything, but I know you all think you’re better than me.”
He chuckled sadly to himself. “The worst part is, you all are.”
Naero leaned back against the cool interior of the old hull. The surface wasn’t self-regulating like more modern ships.
“Tarim, I don’t care if you’re a lander. We are who and what we are. But if you hate yourself, nothing anyone says or does is going to make a difference. I know life has beaten you down, but you need to find a way to get past all of that on your own. Everyone among my people, with few exceptions, will do everything they can to help you find your way. Take advantage of that.”
“Believe me, I am. But I’ll never be good enough for you, will I?”
Haisha. Men were idiots. Dealing with them–exasperating.
“Tarim...have I ever given you any sign that I want to be anything more than friends with you?”
He blinked. “Well...no. You haven’t.”
“Thank you. I’m sorry you had to see me and Ellis...together like that. I like him, he’s–”
“A jerk. Even though he’s been friendlier to me lately, he’s still a jerk.”
“Sometimes people are attracted to jerks. Some people might think I’m a jerk. I’m working on him.”
Tarim sighed and shook his head, staring down at his clasped hands. “I’m no warrior, not like Ellis, not like your people. You’ve trained all of your lives to be fighters. It’s in your blood. While I’ve just been a worker, a slave.”
He paused and looked up at the small open view screen on his cabin wall. Then his gaze flipped back to to meet hers. “But I can’t change the way I feel when I look at you, N.”
Naero glanced away from him for a moment, feeling her own eyes go tight.
“You honor me, Tarim. But I have to be honest with you, even if it hurts. Can you handle the truth?”
He waved both hands helplessly in the air. “Sure, go ahead. I can pretty much guess what you’re going to say. Spacers respect strength, and force of will. Ellis has all that. Hell, he’s a Matayan prince for God’s sake. He’s been trained, and pampered, and educated and conditioned all his life. He’s handsome. Girls probably fall all over him. While I’m just a skinny lander slave who doesn’t know his butt from a bucket. Tell me how close I am?”
“I was going to say, that for whatever reasons, I am attracted to Ellis. And I’m sorry, but I’m not attracted to you in the same way, or to the same degree.”
“I don’t see you pasting yourself to me like you did to Ellis.”
“I’m as prone to the randomness of physical attraction as anyone,” she said.
“Uh-huh.”
“It’s not like I’m going to run off and settle down with Ellis somewhere cozy and spawn a dozen kids. I want to do things with my life. I want to get out of this mess; I want my own ship. The biggest thing Spacers value is freedom, to live in space, not bound to anyone or anything.”
He glared up at her with his arms crossed in front of him. “So you’ll just screw Ellis for a while?”
She resisted grinning. “If I choose to, yeah. But I wouldn’t be so crude about it. People can love each other for a while sometimes. It doesn’t always have to be forever.”
“It should be, Naero.”
“I don’t know who or what I want right now. I’m nineteen. I’m young and curious, just like you, and I’ve got a lot to learn. I want to get out there and live my life. I suggest you do the same. Don’t worry about me. Worry about yourself.”
“Fine.”
“Grow up, Tarim. Find someone who is attracted to you. You’ll never force anyone to love you.”
He swung at her.
Naero barely pulled back, almost completely surprised.
His knuckle just barely grazed the tip of her nose.
She instinctively fell back toward the door in a defensive stance.
Om woke up.
Is Tarim attacking you? I thought he was your friend? Should I prepare to disintegrate him? Advise.
No, Om. He’s just hurt, confused, and angry. Don’t hurt him; in any case, you can’t.
I am working ceaselessly on finding a way to be able to defend us. I will solve this problem.
You do that. But leave my friends and family alone. The girl he’s crushing on is telling him she just wants to be friends. That’s hard on anyone.
I do not understand interpersonal relations. So chaotic and complex. So many personalities and variables.
I know you don’t, Om. Leave it to me.
Yeah, she was an expert, all right. Look at the mess she was making of things.
Tarim sat back down on his bunk and sulked while she hesitated.
He wiped his eyes. “I...I know you can beat the crap out me with your eyes closed, Naero. I’m sorry. You’re right. But it hurts so bad to face the truth and hear it from you. I have so much to work on still.”
“Do things for yourself first, Tarim. Become who and what you want to be. Not for me or anyone else. Spacers teach their kids that it’s difficult for others to love and respect them if they don’t love and respect themselves.”
He looked up at her. “When you’re an ‘associate,’ no one treats you like anything but dirt. We take it out on ourselves and everyone around us. Pretty self-destructive, huh?”
“Slavery does that to people. We were all that way once. That’s why Spacers hate it so much. We’ll die before we let the Corps, or anyone, or anything enslave us again, and we’ll take as many of them down with us when we go.”
“A lot of landers wish they were Spacers, Naero. We’re jealous of you people–your arrogance, your technology, your skill and intelligence. But mostly, we’re jealous of your liberty.”
“Tarim, you’re not a helpless, frightened slave boy any longer. You’re a free young man. You’re learning and growing every day, learning to defend yourself, your freedom, and your rights. Even I’m amazed at your shooting prowess.”
He clenched and unclenched his fists. “I’m so frustrated, Naero. I want everything; it can’t happen fast enough. I wish I were…a Spacer.”
“You don’t have to be a Spacer,” she said. “Just be Tarim. That will be enough.”
Naero went forward again, knelt down, and put her hands over his.
“You’re with us, Tarim. You’re free. Right here. Right now. We’ve accepted you among us, and whatever happens, we won’t let you go back to being a slave. You’ve got a choice in that too. Keep striving and studying the way you have been, and you’ll make something of yourself. You will meet people everywhere who will be proud to know you. And it won’t matter if you are a Spacer or not.”
“Yeah.” He looked her straight in the eye, sad resignation written all over him. “I want all that, but it still won’t put your lips to mine in passion, will it?”
She drew back slightly. “N-no. I can’t say it will.”
He held his head up and nodded, staring off into space. “Well, I guess I’ll have to live with that, too. At least you didn’t leave me dangling. I appreciate your honesty, even if it does rip my guts out.”
He laughed a little.
“Hey,” Naero said, showing him a sad smile of her own. “What are friends for?”
She turned to go.
“Naero, I’m going to keep praying for you. Be careful.”
“My middle name.”
“No, it’s not,” he said. “Not you.”
She went out and left him behind in the dark.
Her com buzzed.
Aunt Sleak requested an impromptu sparring session with her, pronto, in one of the training rooms.
*
“Suit up,” Aunt Sleak said, already in her sparring gear.
Naero looked around in the big training room. They were all alone.
She put her pads on.
“What’s this all about Aunt Sleak? I’m off duty.”
“Just get thos
e pads on, spacechild.”
A tone in her voice made Naero’s blood glacier and crystalize. Aunt Sleak had that affect on people, just from the intensity of her voice.
Aunt Sleak turned and met Naero’s eye straight on.
Her sudden glare. Withering.
She already knew about Ellis.
Naero wished suddenly she could split out of her form like an Ichikan mimic and assume a new shape or identity.
Intel always had surveillance on Ellis. The two guards. The little tryst on the floor hadn’t gone unnoticed.
Foolish to think it would.
That brief glare told Naero all she needed to know.
She was really in for it now.
Nothing she could do but take her lumps.
Naero got a few blows in before she went down.
That didn’t matter.
Aunt Sleak overwhelmed her defenses and threw her to the ground. Hard.
Suddenly it was a bit like fighting Baeven. She knew her aunt had been holding back in the past, but she had no idea how much.
Naero rolled to her feet, buffeted by low kicks as she crouched.
Their precision and speed pummeled her, and knocked her back into the wall.
Training with Baeven turned out to be good for something. At least he taught her how to take a beat down
“What in the hell were you thinking?” Aunt Sleak finally screamed at her. “I don’t care how good-looking he is. He’s a Matayan. One of their princes. This is not going to happen. The two of you will never be left alone again.”
After getting beat up, Naero’s own temper flared. She spread her arms wide in denial.
“So he’s a Matayan. So what? What’s the big deal? You sound as bigoted as they are. He’s not all that bad. Did you ever think that with all this talk of new alliances, he might be able to help our side and his own people at the same time? They’ve got their backs against the wall. They’re desperate.”
“His people kill our people, Naero–every chance they get. They killed your parents and everyone with them. And we’ve killed plenty of Matayans in retaliation. We are enemies. Blood enemies.”
“And when will that change? Never? We have a platinum opportunity to reverse that. Can’t anyone see that? His people need help.”
Spacer Clans Adventure 1: Naero's Run Page 25
