Mikaela, backing away from his embrace, must have felt his sudden wanting, too. She looked at him with a wry smile.
“Feeling inspired all of a sudden?” she asked.
“You might say that. Can’t help, Mickey. It’s what you do to me.”
“Don’t call me Mickey. You know I hate it.”
Mikaela sat down at the small table by the stove. She tilted her head back and began unfastening her long hair. Phineas watched as the blond tangle fell about her shoulders, reflecting the dim light with a singular brilliance. He watched with admiration. She was a fetchingly sexy woman, and he was damned lucky she had thrown in her lot with him. She was like Becky in so many ways, and yet so different, too.
But wasn’t it like that with all the women in a man’s life? It seemed like you were always finding characteristics in current lovers which reminded you of past ones. It made Phineas think about how similar we all really were, and how silly it seemed to get into such rows about such trifling matters.
“God, that feels better,” said Mikaela, tossing her head slowly from one side to the other, letting her hair swing free and loose. “I feel like a schoolmarm with that bun all the time.”
“Form follows function,” said Phineas, attending to their now-warm rations. “Beef stew sound all right to you?”
Mikaela grimaced. “Whoever selected the menu for these survival kits must have owned stock in a cattle ranch. What about some variety, for God’s sake?”
Phineas shrugged. “Sorry, love, I have to cook them as I get them ... We could be dining on ceratopsian steaks, if either of us could get up the nerve, you know,”
“I think I’ll wait until it’s a necessity ...” Mikaela drafted cups of water from a five-liter container.
“So what happened today? Any news of import?” Phineas served their cook-paks, handed out some utensils, and sat down opposite her.
“Maybe,” she said, telling him of Takamura’s discovery.
“I admire that guy’s tenacity, Even though I think he’s all wet about changing things, I’m glad he’s not giving up.”
“Do you really think it’s a waste of time,” she asked.
“Oh hell, I don’t know. I mean, we’ll probably end up learning something if he takes an exploratory team through there. It seems like we’re constantly learning new things about this ship, but ...” Phineas shook his head.
“But what?”
“I just keep getting the feeling that we don’t have any choice but to wait for the ship to emerge from hyperspace and see where it brings us. Takamura doesn’t have a bloody chance of figuring out how to fly us back to the solar system.”
“Then maybe we shouldn’t okay the expedition he wants to mount?”
“Oh no, don’t do that! Then he’ll just have to dream up some new scheme to keep himself busy.” Phineas grinned. “No, this one is good enough.”
Mikaela grinned. “You know, it’s funny ...”
“What’s that?”
“Well, everybody was so upset with the mess we’ve gotten into, and they blamed you for it, then they ‘punished’ you by not voting you into the Ruling Council, right?”
“That’s what you call funny?” What the hell was she getting at?
“Listen,” said Mikaela with an impish grin. “I mean, wouldn’t everybody be surprised to know that I come home from my meetings of the Ruling Council and base my decisions and votes upon opinions garnered from you? I just think it’s ironically funny, that’s all.”
Phineas nodded, took a swig of water. “You mean Phineas Kemp as Northumberland, as the ‘power behind the throne’ and all that crap? Yes, Mikaela, I suppose that is kind of humorous.”
“Oh, Phineas, don’t be such a stick in the mud!”
“Maybe you’re right,” he said, breaking into a smile. “Wasn’t it Thomas Jefferson who said that people always get the government they deserve?”
“American history isn’t one of my strong points.”
“Take my word for it. And in this case, I think the people on this ship deserve to be commanded by a certain Colonel I know very well.”
“Despite the recent bruisings, I see your ego is still reasonably intact.”
“Aren’t you glad? I mean, isn’t that part of my charm? Part of the reason you fell for me?”
“I suppose so.”
“So, you’re going to approve of Takamura’s mission, then?”
“Why not? I think everyone else favors it, anyway. I was just curious as to what your feelings were.” Mikaela cleaned up the empty paks and utensils.
“Now that you mention it, I think I’ll volunteer for his little team.”
“You’ll what?”
“You heard me,” said Phineas.
“Yes, but why? You just said it was probably silly for Mishima to even think he might be able to change the course of the ship.”
“Of course, but it will keep me off the streets, so to speak. It will give me something to do all day.”
“But you’re on the reconstruction and salvage committee,” said Mikaela.
Phineas rolled his eyes. “Ghack! Need you remind me? We’ve just about salvaged everything that can be used. The ornithopter’s being worked on by Barkham’s crew and some of the men from Tactical Engineering—nothing much I can do except stand around handing people tools. Great fun, that.”
“But Phineas ...” Mikaela was grinning in spite of what she felt.
It gratified him that she wanted to keep him safe and out of any potential danger, but he just wasn’t the kind of person who would be satisfied with that kind of arrangement. Years ago, Becky Thalberg had told him that he was doomed to spend his whole life proving his worth to himself. She was undoubtedly spot-on correct.
“I know what you’re thinking, my sweet paleontologist, but it’s all rather silly, don’t you think? I mean, I worry my ass off when you’re out in the Mesozoic, studying the beasts, but I just tell myself that it’s your job, and that’s that.”
“I know you’re right, Phineas, it’s just that this place is always surprising us.” She walked over to him, put her hands on his shoulders, and administered some of her special Swedish massage. “I’m afraid you might be walking into something dangerous. At least I know what I’m dealing with out in the Preserve.”
“Mikaela, you’re beginning to sound like a wife. He laughed softly, but she did not share this particular jest.
“What’s wrong with that?”
Phineas Kemp paused, considering his reply. Had to be careful here, since he knew that Mikaela was very much interested in more of a commitment than their adventurous relationship in the midst of possible chaos. One night in their shared bed, she had even wheedled a half-promise out of him that if they ever made it back to Earth, he would probably consider marrying her.
“Oh ...” he said finally. “There’s nothing wrong with it, really. I was just kidding.”
“I sincerely hope so, Phineas.” She came round and faced him, sat on his lap. “I really love you, you know ...”
He nodded. “... and I love you, too.”
Phineas kissed her, and she shot her tongue into his mouth. Instantly he wanted her. Incredible how women had such ultimate power over their men, he thought in a flash. Reaching down under her legs, he picked her up, preparing to whisk her off to their bed when another woman’s voice intruded upon the moment.
“Hello? Anybody home?”
Recognizing the perfect pronunciations of Kate Ennis, Phineas stopped in midstride and slowly eased Mikaela to the floor. “Just a moment,” he said hastily. “Be right with you.”
“Expecting someone?” asked Mikaela, who had stiffened a bit in his arms at the sound of Kate’s voice.
“No,” he said softly. “Of course not.”
Mikaela turned away and moved quickly to the front fla
p of the tent, pulling it back to reveal the lithe figure of Kate Ennis.
“Good evening, Ms. Ennis,” said Mikaela with just a slightly perceptible tinge of sarcasm in her voice. “Please come in.”
Kate was tall and leggy, with shining dark hair that was a subtle blend of brunette and auburn highlights. Her face was angular, accented by large, glistening doe-eyes. She had a perfect media-smile, and even Mikaela had been known to admit that Kate projected a great image for NBC news. There was no denying that Phineas found her extremely attractive, although up to this point their other-than-professional relationship had progressed no further than the flirtatious smile, the double entendre, and the occasional, semiaccidental touch of the hand. Phineas knew he was entering dangerous and uncharted waters, but there was a thrill about it which kept him from shutting down the operation.
“Sorry to interrupt anything,” said Kate, “but I had a few things I wanted to check out with. you, Phineas.”
“No, no, it’s fine,” he said, gesturing Kate to a chair by the table. “Would you like some tea or coffee? We were just about to make some.”
Mikaela shot him a look which said: Oh, were we, now? Then she moved to the stove and prepared a pot of water.
“Coffee would be fine,” said Kate, taking a seat opposite Phineas.
“So what’s up, newslady?” He attempted to be light and casual, especially under the harsh examining light of Mikaela’s attention.
“Well, I was just contacted by Mishima Takamura,” said Kate. “I guess you’ve heard about the expedition he’s planning.”
Phineas nodded.
“He’s planning to take a band of Saurians along, did you know that?”
“No, I hadn’t heard,” said Phineas, looking over at Mikaela. “Did he mention any of that to the rest of the Council, my dear?”
Mikaela shook her head as she began pouring the water for coffee and tea. “No, nothing at all. But why does he want the Saurians along?”
Kate shrugged. “Something about engendering a ‘spirit of cooperation’ is what he said to me. He also thinks the Saurian Warriors would be a great advantage in case the team runs into trouble.”
“What?” said Phineas, only mildly surprised. “I’ve had a bunch of the warrior-caste working in salvage and reconstruction. Rough, brutish types. Rather difficult to keep in line, don’t you think?”
“Of course! That’s why he wants me to come along ...”
Phineas nodded. “Because you’ve been working with them in ... oh, whatever committee name they dreamed up, right?”
“Yes, the Cultural Exchange Committee,” said Kate.
Phineas smiled. He loved the officious names someone had conjured up to describe all the foofaraw that was going on. Because of her investigative and journalistic skills, Kate had been selected to work on the committee to try to establish better lanes of communication with the various biological “castes” among the Saurians. Phineas knew that Kate had been working with digital translators and several of the members of the priest-caste Saurians. Bridging cultural and communications barriers with the Merchants and Priests had been easier than with the Warriors and the Agrarian Workers.
And yet, in a relatively short time, Kate had made significant strides, enough to qualify her as an “authority” on Saurian culture—if there could be such an entity.
“And so ... let me guess,” said Phineas. “Takamura wants you along to act as an interface between the humans and the Saurian Warriors?”
Kate smiled and batted her long lashes in mock-dramatic fashion. “That’s right, and that’s why I thought maybe I should talk to you first.”
“Me? Whatever for?” Phineas tried to act surprised, but he was inwardly pleased that she had thought to seek his advice.
Mikaela served the mugs of coffee and tea, then took a seat next to Phineas. She sat very close and reached out to casually touch his forearm. The cat establishing territorial imperatives, thought Phineas.
Kate paused before replying. Then: “Because I trust your opinion, Phineas.”
“But I can’t tell you whether or not you should go along with them! You’ve got to decide for yourself, Kate.”
“Is it safe?” she asked, then sipped from her mug.
“Safe?” interjected Mikaela. “Is anything safe on the Dragonstar? I mean ... really, Kate.”
Kate Ennis seemed a bit embarrassed by the silliness of her question. She looked away from Mikaela without acknowledging what she had said. To Phineas, she said: “I don’t mean to sound silly, but after working with the warrior-caste, I’m scared. I just don’t seem to be getting through to them, and I can’t let myself trust them. They’re weird, Phineas!”
He smiled and nodded his head in a fatherly way. “I understand what you mean. To be honest, I never did much care for any of the Saurians—they all kind of give me the creeps. But I’ve had one of the Warriors’ leaders on my salvage team—we call him Visigoth because he’s such a damned brute! —and I don’t trust the son of a bitch any further than I can throw him.”
“That’s great advice, Great White Hunter,” said Mikaela. “You sound like the bad guy in one of the old Tarzan movies.”
Phineas shrugged. “Sorry, but that’s how I feel.” He looked at Kate. “My advice is simple: if you don’t want to feel trapped on a mission with any of the Warriors, then tell Dr. Takamura you can’t go, that’s all.”
Kale seemed relieved and a smile gradually appeared on her face. She stood up and reached out to shake his hand. “Thank you, Phineas. Suddenly I don’t feel like a whiny baby about this.”
He shrugged. “Despite all the frigging committees, this is still a democratic process we’ve got going here. Nobody’s going to make you do anything you don’t want to do.”
Kate nodded. “I’m glad you don’t think less of me because of the way I feel.” She turned toward the entrance, then paused to look back at him and Mikaela. “I’ll go tell Takamura I can’t make it. Thanks.”
“No problem,” said Phineas. “See you later, then.”
“Good night,” said Mikaela.
Kate said her good-byes and walked off into the darkening evening. Phineas returned to his seat and stretched out, gesturing for Mikaela to come back to his lap.
She stood for a moment eyeing him oddly.
“Something wrong?” he asked.
“I wonder if she would be so afraid of going on that expedition if she knew you were planning to volunteer?”
Phineas laughed, “My God, I do believe the paleontologist is jealous of the journalist!”
“Jealousy has nothing to do with it, Phineas.”
He was still grinning at her. “Then what is it?”
“I can tell from she way she looks at you—that woman’s in love with you.” Mikaela spoke as though she were recording an observable phenomenon.
“That’s ridiculous!” he said, although he was inwardly flattered at the thought of such a possibility
“You might think so,” said Mikaela, “but just watch what happens when she finds out you’re going with Takamura ...”
I will! thought Phineas, feeling like a mischievous school kid. I will indeed!
IT WAS A typical evening within the Dragonstar. Hanging in the zero-gravity center of the immense cylinder, the Illuminator—a 200-mile-long fusion-reactor kernel—began to cast off its daytime brilliance, creating the perfect illusion of twilight. The close, humid atmosphere seemed a fright more bearable as the temperatures slowly dropped. It made Becky wonder if maybe she was finally growing accustomed to feeling sticky and always in need of a shower.
Riding in one of the only operable IASA vehicles, the trusty OTV, she and Mishima left the wide boulevard which flanked the Human Enclave in the Saurian city of Hakarrh. They entered a smaller pathway, which gradually snaked up to higher ground, toward the ruined Temple and its Potemk
in steps. Beyond the squat architecture of the Saurian Priests’ headquarters lay the steel-grey wall which soared upward into the ever-present clouds at the end of the vessel’s interior.
The wall behind the Temple. The Saurians called it the End of the World, and it was certainly that. Beyond the wall lay the alien crew section, the control-section of the Dragonstar where Drs. Jakes and Takamura, and all the others in the IASA research team, had been carrying out their initial investigations. But when the ship prepared itself for the jump into hyperspace, it automatically sealed off the hatches to the control-section, and thus began Takamura’s latest mission.
They passed few Saurians in this part of the city. As evening drew on, there were a few lamplighters out riding ostrich-like dinosaurs from post to post, lighting the oil lamps, and only a few pedestrians. That was to be expected, thought Becky. They were entering the domain of the priest-caste, and it was forbidden territory to all other Saurian castes. She didn’t like being out on the Hakarrh streets after dark. There was something about the Saurians that would forever make her uncomfortable. It was not only their temporary insanity caused by the start-up radiation of the Dragonstar’s command systems which scared her ... but also their coldness, their lack of emotional bonding to each other as well as to their human allies.
As guilty and ashamed as it made her feel, she honestly believed she could never trust them as a group.
“The meeting went very well, don’t you think?” asked Mishima Takamura as they approached the cliff wall of pueblo-like dwellings carved into the rock. He drove the OTV past the end of the Temple steps, following a route which would take them directly to the base of the cliff-face dwellings.
“Yes,” said Rebecca Thalberg automatically, although her private assessment of the recently adjourned Ruling Council meeting was markedly less enthusiastic than his.
Joy Davison, the Chair of the Council, had expressed reservations about Mishima’s idea—as had his department head, Dr. Robert Jakes. However, Mikaela Lindstrom and Dennis Patrick, the remaining members of the Council, had not really expressed any negative opinions. Since Mishima was a member of the ruling board himself, his own vote tipped the Council’s decision. Maybe that was why he felt things went very well ...
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