by S. E. Smith
Valkyr retracted his talons and a screaming Karissa fell directly into Grant’s arms. He kept his balance by the narrowest of margins and got them safely landed on the floor, where she clung to him, weeping. Still carrying her, he went to a small vehicle used by the arena staff, set her on the seat and got in the driver’s side, taking her to the backstage area where a crowd waited.
“Don’t move,” he told her, jumping out and coming to pick her up. “Make way,” he ordered the crowd. “Get a doctor—she should be checked out.”
Someone ran to do his bidding. Desdusan paced with him, stroking Karissa’s hair. “I was so scared.”
“You and me both,” the singer mumbled, clinging tighter to Grant.
Ted stood in Grant’s path.
“Listen you son of a bitch, I want to see all new, top of the line antigrav units here tonight, with a certified tech to maintain them, by six o’clock. No one, and I mean no one, least of all Karissa herself is going aloft until you get the new units,” Grant said to Ted. “Am I making myself clear?”
“Who the seven hells do you think you are, giving me orders?” Ted tried bluster.
“I’m the guy who just saved your singer’s life. I’m the guy who’ll have this show shut down for safety violations faster than you can blink if you don’t get out of my way and follow my orders.” Grant shouldered past the red faced manager and got them to Karissa’s dressing room, shutting the door even on Desdusan.
He carried the singer to the couch and sat, with her on his lap.
She was trembling violently. “I could have died, if you and Valkyr weren’t here. Thank you.”
“Hey,” he tilted her chin up so he could see her.
“I must be a mess,” she wailed. “Don’t look at me.”
“All I want to do is look at you and be happy you’re here, warm and safe. No more rehearsal today.”
“But—”
“No buts. You need to recuperate from the shock of a near miss and I’m guessing you’ll have a few pulled muscles at the least. Tomorrow, I’ll be here to test the new units and the first time you go aloft, Valkyr and I’ll be in the air with you, until you and I are both satisfied everything’s ok.” He left her for a moment to fetch an afghan on a nearby chair and draped the fabric over her as she shivered.
“From the girls at the orphanage where I grew up,” she said with a watery smile, pulling the soft woven fabric more tightly around herself. “I need to do something really nice for them.”
“Worry about it later. Or maybe after you’re done with Ted and his bullshit.” He got one of her scarves and wiped her face as clean of the smeared makeup as he could get it.
Desdusan’s voice came from the door com. “The doctor’s here.”
“Raincheck on dinner?” he said, rising to open the portal for them.
“Tomorrow? But can’t you go back to the hotel with me?”
“Of course, but only to make sure you’re ok. You need to rest.”
“Is Valkyr all right?”
I’m fine, wings in one piece, the eagle said when Grant asked. My shoulder joints ache as if I’d tried to carry off a mountain gazelle.
We’ll check with Tyrelle as soon as we get back to the ship.
He waited while the doctor examined Karissa and prescribed a mild muscle relaxant, which she refused to take. “I’ve been to rehab twice, you must be aware of my past if you work at the arena. No drugs. I don’t care how mild the meds are. I’ll take a long soak in a hot bath, with special salts, do some stretches and be fine.”
Grant and Valkyr followed the limousine to the hotel in his rented ground car, and then made their way to her suite, over the initial objections of the hotel staff, who weren’t too sure about the giant eagle. By the time he got to her rooms, Karissa was already in the tub, modestly shielded by towering bubbles.
She opened her eyes as he came in, feeling awkward to be in her presence while she was naked, and blew a few of the bubbles at him. “Like a scene in a madcap trideo romance, isn’t it?”
“I’ve got to get going back to the ship, but I wanted to make sure you’re doing ok.”
“I wish you could stay.” She swirled her hand through the waters, dislodging some of the bubbles. The pillowy tops of her breasts were visible and as the bubbles drifted he got momentary glimpses of the rest of her shapely form and he could feel himself responding, all the blood rushing to his groin.
He drew a deep breath. “There’s nothing I’d like more, but I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
She pouted for a moment before grinning. “We could just talk.”
“Uh huh. Or you could get your rest and be ready for tomorrow’s rehearsal and the string of concerts to come,” he said.
She flipped a handful of the bubbles at him. “You’re no fun, Officer Barton. But I will admit I’m aching all over. Lords bless Valkyr for breaking my fall and you catching me, but even then, it wasn’t a picnic.”
He came to sit on the edge of the tub and took her hand, resolutely keeping his gaze focused on her face rather than the enticing expanse of skin the bubbles failed to hide. “I promise I’ll be here tomorrow, we’ll have dinner and then I’ll stay the night, if you still want me to.”
“I’ll want you to, very much,” she said, staring into his eyes. “It’s a date.”
He brought his own military grade antigrav unit to rehearsal the next day, intending to give it to Karissa if he wasn’t satisfied with the new equipment, but Ted had followed orders grudgingly, and there was a stack of shiny, top of the line antigrav pads on the table backstage, zealously guarded by a tech. Several of the acrobats pulled Grant aside on his way to Karissa’s dressing room to thank him for saving her, and for intervening to get them new equipment.
She was alone with Desdusan, who greeted him and left the room, closing the portal behind her.
“How are you doing today?” he asked, taking her into his arms for a kiss.
“Sore,” she admitted. “I’ll be taking it easy through rehearsal. You’re going to fly with me, right?”
He nodded and went to inspect her new antigrav unit, lying on the couch. “I asked Maeve to do some research for me and I think I found the perfect place for dinner. A five star restaurant serving Calillia cuisine cooked in the normal way and also nouvelle style, done with ingredients from other worlds. Has great reviews.”
“I should have known you’d do your research.” She laughed. “I’m flattered. But will the food there be better than what we had at the family restaurant whose name escapes me?”
“Probably not. It might cost less though, considering you had to buy out her restaurant to bribe her into silence. Did you get her and her people their tickets?”
“Of course. I had Desdusan do it, rather than trust the task to Ted or his minions. Did you see the coverage of yesterday’s incident?”
“Yes.” He tried to keep his tone casual, not to appear upset by receiving even more unwanted publicity. “Too bad the meet and greet group was here and some of them recorded it.”
“I’m told ticket sales have tripled. Ted wanted me to add a show and I said no, since the date would fall outside the contract term. People want to see if I fall again.” She shivered a little.
“You won’t and once a person hears you sing, they’ll forget all about the macabre possibility.”
He and Valkyr flanked her as she rose into the air later, and flew alongside her as she made the circle of the arena several times to get the feel of the new antigrav, and did part of her routine. When Karissa landed, she was beaming and the watching crowd of musicians, dancers and crew applauded. “So much more powerful than the old one. I feel much safer, thank you.”
“There’s an emergency backup so if the power on the main unit did fail, you’d drift to the ground,” he said. “For once Ted did the right thing and got you top of the line equipment. After this concert tour is done, you and I should do some training. Your technique is a bit rough. Beautiful,” he added hastily,
“But rough.”
Biting her lip, she had a strange expression on her face, brow furrowed. “After? But when does the Nebula Zephyr sail for her next port?”
He cleared his throat. He’d forgotten about the ship and the fact Karissa wasn’t traveling with them to the next Sector Hub. “Two days after the final concert.”
“We have to talk,” she said, frowning.
“At dinner.” He could wait. Tonight they’d have all the time in the world to talk…and do other things. “I think you have a rehearsal to get through?”
She stuck her tongue out at him and ostentatiously pivoted to listen to the stage director. Grant took his customary place in the wings and watched, making a few mental notes of things he wanted to mention to her, not about the show or her singing of course, but mechanics of the production.
The session was about done when he heard a rising murmur of excitement and turned to see Ted strutting into the area with a large entourage, accompanied by a man even Grant recognized.
“Patric Bowdene,” Desdusan said the name as if she was praying. “The most famous singer in the entire Sectors. And the most reclusive. How did Ted pull this off?”
“I thought he retired,” Grant said.
“Well apparently Ted found a way to lever him out of his privacy.”
Karissa came off stage and Ted waved her over. She was absorbed into the crowd surrounding Patric, with Ted making enthusiastic introductions before Grant could say anything, and the entire group moved off toward her dressing room.
“I’d better go,” Desdusan said. “She’ll need help getting out of the costume and into her dress for dinner with you.”
“Which I’ll bet is going to be delayed,” Grant said, unable to keep a certain annoyance out of his voice. “Chances for a fellow singer to meet Patric come once in a lifetime, if ever. Tell her I understand and I’ll wait outside with Valkyr, let him get some fresh air flying. When she’s ready to leave she can send someone to let me know.”
“Will do.” The older woman moved off.
Valkyr appreciated the opportunity to do more freewheeling acrobatics than the confines of the arena allowed for, and the time passed. Grant kept an eye on the arena but from where he was standing he couldn’t see the VIP parking, so he had no way to know when Patric and his massive entourage might be leaving. Finally, as the sun was setting, he called Valkyr to him and walked back inside, startled to find the place pretty much empty and the lights off. Uneasy, he hurried toward the backstage area, only to be met by Desdusan.
“They’ve gone,” she said.
“Good. Then Karissa and I can go have our dinner.”
She shook her head. “She went with them. Ted insisted. I’m sorry—she asked me to let you know.”
“She stood me up?” Anger and puzzlement warred inside his head. Sensing his mood, Valkyr shifted on his shoulder, spreading his wings as if about to take flight.
Eyes downcast, Desdusan looked miserable as she nodded. “I overheard Ted saying he’s gotten Patric to agree to sing a duet with Karissa tomorrow as a special guest and they needed to discuss the arrangements. I think Ted’s up to something sneaky, as usual.”
“She could have said no because she had a prior commitment tonight. Or invited me to join them. She and Patric could have talked in the morning. Despite that fucking contract I keep hearing about, he doesn’t own her.” He knew he shouldn’t be venting his feelings to Desdusan but the words poured out. He took a breath to regain control of his emotions.
“I’m sure she’ll call you later,” the costumer said. “She knows how to reach you on the ship.”
He caught her sleeve as she stepped away. “If you see her, tell her I was disappointed of course but I understood. Even if I don’t, between you and me. But there’d better be a raincheck.”
Nodding, Desdusan murmured agreement and walked away into the shadows.
There was no call from Karissa that evening. Grant was on duty the next day but eagerly anticipating seeing her at the concert in the evening. Surely they could catch a few private moments between the show and the after party, and make new plans.
Midmorning he was summoned to Jake’s office, which was unprecedented.
“What’s up, boss?”
“Take a seat.” Jake nodded at the chair by the desk. “Sorry to pull you in like this but I’m afraid I’ve got bad news.”
“Something’s happened to Karissa?” Icy dread formed a ball in the pit of his stomach. Some other hazard he should have anticipated, like the faulty antigrav? He started planning how he could get to her side in the quickest fashion.
“No, she’s fine as far as I know but it does concern her.” Jake’s face was unusually grim. “Her manager filed a restraining order against you this morning. You’re not to be allowed within a hundred yards of her, no contact, and you’re explicitly barred from attending any event of any size at which she is expected to be present, including her concerts.”
He was sure he hadn’t heard right. He was so stunned that he got a worried mental inquiry from Valkyr, roused from his nap by Grant’s distress. I’m fine, tell you later he reassured the eagle. “You—you’ve got to be kidding.”
Jake held out a paper. “Printed this copy off for you. Came through to the captain this morning. It’s official all right.”
“The captain?”
Jake nodded. “All he wants to know is there’s nothing which will reflect badly on the line or the ship but we stand behind our people.”
Grant let out a short, bitter laugh. “That bastard Ted couldn’t even be bothered to take out an order against Mr. Leclaire after he stalked Karissa here on the Zephyr and showed up at her rehearsal to do another meet and greet. I saved her life and he gets one against me?”
“I was surprised. I thought things were going well between you and her,” Jake said.
“I thought so too. Maybe Ted thinks I’m a threat to his control. He brought in Patric to sing with her yesterday.”
“The Patric? As in the King of Celestial Notes?” Jake sounded a bit awed.
Grant glanced at the printout in his hand and grimaced. “She signed this.”
“I saw. Man, I am so sorry.”
Shoving all his emotions into a black hole in his heart, Grant straightened. “Tell the captain there’s nothing for him to worry about. I acknowledge receipt of this order. Was there anything else, sir?”
“No, you can resume your regular duties.”
Grant went back to the deck he’d been patrolling, barely paying attention to the passengers and crew he met along the way. The rest of the morning passed in a haze.
He spent the evening in his cabin constructing an elaborate birdbath for Lully, and trying not to think about what he’d expected to be doing. He kept hoping for a message from Karissa herself, or failing that, some word from Desdusan. The only thing to come through from Calillia was a notification from the arena his all access pass had been cancelled.
The next day was even worse, as he tried not to think about the concert, which he was legally forbidden to attend. He declined a well meant invitation from Red and his wife to join them for dinner and another from Jake and Dr. Shane to join them for drinks and a movie. He appreciated having good friends on board who were trying to keep him distracted, although he was embarrassed anyone knew so much about his private affairs.
He took Valkyr and Lully for a scheduled flight session on the hangar deck when he got off duty and while the birds cavorted and chased Maeve’s drones, he sat with his back against a shuttle and tried to wrench his mind into the discipline required to meditate and cleanse the soul of adverse emotions. The ritual was an ancient one, from his planet and he’d had some success with it when he was recovering from his final career-ending set of war-related injuries but tonight the desired calm mental state refused to arrive. Moby, the ship’s cat, sat beside him for a while and he found it more restful to pet her soft fur and listen to the purr.
Lully is afraid of the cat. I ha
ve assured her Moby is a friend but still she fears.
Regretfully, Grant urged Moby to go somewhere else, to her indignation, and then stood to receive Valkyr on his shoulder. Lully settled in on the eagle’s back, as was her custom.
As the hangar crew filtered back onto the deck, Grant headed for his cabin, seriously contemplating getting drunk, which he never did. And certainly not over a woman. But Karissa isn’t just any woman. Not to him.
She’s a queen of the flock.
Valkyr’s thought was complimentary, his next equally so. As a warrior of Qaazamir, you deserve to fly with her.
I may never get the chance again. But I appreciate your support. Grant unlocked his cabin and stepped inside.
The more fool she then. There are few to match what you bring to the flight.
He was surprised, as the eagle rarely made personal comments but Valkyr was already absorbed in a mutual preening session with Lully. He checked his message queue but there was nothing.
Maeve spoke on the private channel. “I’ve been monitoring the planetary broadcasts. Would you like me to project a realtime trideo of the concert for you?”
He wondered if the CLC Line had the remotest understanding of how much Maeve remained a military AI at heart, with civilian rules existing to be broken in favor of loyalty to her crew. He was sure Captain Fleming got it. Grant didn’t answer her right away, going to the kitchen and fishing a readymade meal from the stasis cabinet, then putting it away again, not hungry. Did he want to see Karissa perform all out? Dance and sing and duet with Patric no doubt, who oozed the sexual magnetism underlying his title as king of celestial music?
Jealous much? “All right. Thank you, Maeve.” Maybe viewing the concert in this way would be closure and he could mourn the relationship that never had the proper chance to become more than an unlikely friendship and move on. He quashed the tiny hope he might still hear from her, the idea their connection hadn’t been so easily set aside.
The AI placed a crystal clear trideo inside the cabin, taking up every inch of space not occupied by the birds. He stumbled to the couch. “Whatever feed you’re pirating here is top notch.”
