by H M Major
"Quite a project," K commented.
"It will be," O'as agreed without enthusiasm. "I'll compile a list of those who arrived on the Maida."
There was a moment of silence. Cord's tail kept switching, To restrain it, he wrapped it about the chair leg. Something was bothering him.
"But what does this have to do with me?" he finally asked.
"It is highly likely that the possible killer of this crewman is the same person who killed your parents," O'as explained.
"You left out the person who attacked me," Cord pointed out logically. "Isn't one psychopath responsible for all the attacks?"
"I don't know," admitted O'as. She turned to Hamilton K. "The subspace message also transmitted an electronic 'picture' of the dead crewman." She reached into her tunic and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. "That's why I ran here. Fortunately-or unfortunately-Cord was here too."
She stood up and smoothed out the sheet on K's desk. Cord stood up to examine it-and recoiled. The face that stared back at him, created by millions of pinpoints, was the same man who had tried to kill him in the spaceport weeks ago!
Hamilton was on his feet too. "Are you trying to tell me that he was attacked by a dead man? Impossible!"
O'as spread her hands. "I have no explanation." She looked at Cord.
"That is the man," Cord said in a flat voice. "And I have no explanation."
"Resurrection? Teleportation?" asked Hamilton K.
"Or a shape changer," muttered Cord.
"It's clear," said O'as, "that we are not dealing with an ordinary crime nor an ordinary criminal."
"Then perhaps my mother's telepathy receiver will find the answer."
"And that's probably precisely why," said O'as, "your parents were destroyed."
"But why kill the first time? Did the crewman know something about the killer or the killer's past?"
K shook his head. "I know nothing of criminal investigation, Cord, but I do know the company. Every Ten Suns employee is screened before assignment. The psychological testing would have uncovered any crime in the suspect's background. The only person here who hasn't got a psych profile on record is you."
"And you can't be guilty," O'as pointed out. "Still, the original murder may have been intended to cover up a crime initiated after the profile was taken-smuggling, for instance."
"What would be worth anyone's risk to smuggle onto Mehira?" K inquired. "And if illegal narcotics were being distributed in the port, could you be unaware of it, O'as?"
"What if he was selling them outside the port?" O'as countered. "That would explain why there were no signs of drug traffic. I know Cord has been curious about the possibility that someone was getting out."
O'as and Hamilton K continued to argue. Cord did not hear them. From the humans' point of view, the suggestion was a good one. They didn't know about the empathic link of Mehirans-or about his dreams.
Most crimes committed by humans might also be perpetrated by Mehirans, though not as frequently or as casually. Drug selling would probably be the exception, Cord thought. If the drug was not harmful, the Council would have no objections to its being sold. If it did affect the mind, its use would be impossible to conceal from other Mehirans.
His dream supplied the answer. The death agonies of Mehirans so far away should not have troubled his sleep-not enough to trigger a terrifying and detailed nightmare. The source of the signal was either much closer or else was someone he knew.
What he had experienced in the dream-the thrill, the pleasure in the victims' fear-was what the killer had felt. Oh, the murder of Fyrrell and Neteel had been for their slayer's safety, Cord was sure of it. The deaths outside the spaceport had been committed for enjoyment. And Pars? A combination of the two: first, for a scapegoat, and second, because his unhappiness and desperation pleased the one who drove him to death.
What a fool he had been. Here, among humans, he had missed the motive because it was such a Mehiran crime. On Mehira everyone knew that some commit violent crimes to savor the pain of others. It had not occurred to him to look for the same motivation among humans, who seemed to lack the empathic sense.
And with O'as's latest revelation, Cord was sure his quarry was a very unusual human.
"Well?" Hamilton K demanded. "You're the security chief. What shall we do next?"
"After the list is compiled," she answered, "you and I and Cord, with his clever little device, will cooperate with the Maida's captain to find the killer. In the meantime, the freighter Lady of Eire has already landed and most of the port people are celebrating. The Maida is not due to land until tomorrow."
"If everyone is drunk, or otherwise engaged," K said, "it might make our investigation easier. Cord?"
"The telepathy device works whether one is sober or not. Or," he said, grinning, "otherwise engaged." Suddenly he remembered his promise to Julia to celebrate with her tonight.
O'as looked at her watch. "If we meet again at the third hour, here at K's office, that should give us enough time to form a plan-and for everyone else to be caught unawares."
The three of them agreed, and Cord left K's office, the comforting feel of a knife slapping against his leg. If he made love to Julia or anyone else tonight, it would be with his boots on…
CHAPTER 24
The day had passed swiftly. After leaving K and O'as, Cord found he had only enough time to stop at his unit and change clothing before meeting Julia for dinner-among other things. When he dressed in a silky-smooth tunic and trousers (altered to accommodate his tail comfortably), he left the mind-reading device in his equipment case. The chest's alarm system would keep it safe. He did not wish to be encumbered with the detector this evening-it would make undressing complicated and generate questions.
They met in the port's "restaurant." Unlike the main dining room, it was dimly lit, subdivided into smaller areas, and rather luxuriously furnished. There were also music and holographed entertainment.
Julia was quiet. She was never one to chatter, Cord knew, but tonight she seemed subdued. From their table, they could watch the recorded floor show while they sipped their wine. Its pale-green color pleased Cord almost as much as its light dryness.
The entertainment was an acrobatics/comedy/dance routine, two men and a woman demonstrating sex acts in a variety of unlikely postures.
"That one looks hazardous to health," Cord murmured. "One false move and you'd be explaining to the doctor how your spine came to be a two-hundred-eighty-degree arc. We could try it tonight."
Julia laughed softly. "You are corrupting me, Cord. While sex is permissible in my religion to relieve frustration, an… arrangement like that one could not be considered necessary. But I wonder what it would be like in free fall."
"Oh, Julia, I'll never understand the ins and outs of your beliefs. Or how you came to adopt them."
"I… was born a Centrist."
"But…" Cord intended to say that did not seem an adequate reason to continue to believe in a philosophy which was so opposed to her passionate nature. Then he thought of his own beliefs and decided they were in similar situations.
"Maybe I'm not suited to practice Centrism," Julia agreed. "It used to be easy, but since I met you, Cord, my control and beliefs are eroding. And I'm certainly not accomplishing anything here as a missionary. I wasn't even of any assistance to Lion."
It was all too true to be denied. He took Julia's hand and pressed it in sympathy.
"It doesn't matter," she assured him. "This doubting may only be a test of my faith. If it continues, then I'll decide, what to do." She refilled their glasses. "Have you changed your mind about not leaving on the freighter that came in today?"
"No, I'm not ready to go yet. If I change my mind, I can always leave on the Maida."
Julia was surprised. "That's a Ten Suns ship. I didn't know it was coming back here."
Cord shrugged. "I need to sell Ten Suns a few more plans and prototypes. I have enough credits to leave now, but if I wait, I would have a s
mall fortune. From what Hamilton K and others tell me, it appears that money is everything."
"Not everything!" Julia exclaimed with surprising intensity. "Not safety or freedom."
"No-but I would not want to be on my own in your civilization with no money."
"That's true," Julia conceded.
Their attention returned to the holos. The three sexual athletes had given way to a juggling act, a combination of fast talk and flying objects. Cord noticed that those watching were breathless with anticipation. The four jugglers were tossing cutter guns back and forth in an intricate pattern-and the guns were set on continuous fire. If any of the sixteen weapons was fumbled, someone was going to die.
Of course, it was all prerecorded, so there should be no unpleasant surprises. And yet it was impossible to watch without becoming tense. The jugglers worked with little illumination, so the cutters' opalescent rays wove a spiderweb pattern in the dark.
"This isn't entertainment, it's an art form," Cord whispered.
Every eye in the cafe was watching the act; conversation had ceased. Julia made no response.
The routine came to an end. Cord and Julia had finished their meal; the wine was gone.
"Let's go," Cord suggested.
"Yes," Julia said. Her breasts rose and fell. The dress she wore was cut low, exposing part of the aureolae around her nipples. Her pupils were dilated with expectation.
"Your room or mine?"
"Why not go somewhere different tonight?" she asked. "There's something I've wanted to try. Do you know what a stim-center is?"
"I've heard of it, but I haven't been there." In fact, Cord did not know what a stim-center might be, but he was willing to find out.
"Neither have I, of course, because it looks odd if you go alone-and a missionary shouldn't go at all-but I would like to see what it's like. You wear a headset which links you to a computer. You describe to the computer a fantasy you want to experience. A very simple description will do, although you can get more elaborate if you wish. Then you take a drug, and you live out the fantasy. Stim-centers are used a lot on worlds where the port staff can't go outside because of the climate, and also on ships making long trips."
"It sounds fantastic," Cord said. He could imagine some very interesting scenarios to try.
The stim-center was not far from the cafe. They strolled along a concourse twinkling with colored lights and advertisements for diversions. Life, Cord decided, cupping one of Julia's buttocks in his hand, could be very good.
The cubicle was small and gray, furnished only with a plastic-covered bed platform, a pair of silver bands with long cords leading to a simple console, and a small grille set beside it in the wall.
"Would you like to take a cruise on a luxury liner?" Julia asked.
"Yes, unless you'd rather do something else. It would be good practice for when I leave."
Julia laughed. "I'll never be able to travel in a starship of this class," she said. "But maybe you will."
Her fingers flew over a keyboard as she programmed the computer. "Margravia and bound for Jeelung. With plenty of entertainment-especially in free fall…"
She led him over to the grille. "Now put your hand over this." He followed her movements. "We've just been air-injected with a drug. Put on the headband and lie down next to me."
The headbands adjusted to fit snugly, Cord found. His last thought before stretching out beside Julia was that the trailing wires might be a nuisance…
***
He was standing in front of a great viewport, staring at his own planet, Mehira. He could see the continents and oceans before him, like a living map. As the ship moved slowly into space, Mehira became swathed in mist and clouds.
Julia touched his shoulder, and he looked away from the viewport. They were in a lounge, large and carpeted on all walls with a silky, many-colored covering. The ceiling and walls were studded with strange plateaulike formations. They were seating areas, Cord realized, for the occasions when the ship's up and down orientation was different, and for the times it might be in free fall. At the moment there was gravity.
Julia stood beside him. Her hair was dressed high on her head in an elaborate style which must involve some sort of frame underneath. She was wearing floor-length strings of gems falling from a collar around her neck, and not very much more. Hip-high hose, and nothing else, he noted as she turned to him. Her eyes were greener than the jewels. There were bracelets of the same stones on her wrists.
He looked down at himself. He was clad in the richest Mehiran clothing he had ever seen-far more costly than anything Bird's father had worn. A broad neck ornament of precious stones lay heavy on his shoulders, while he, too, wore bracelets and rings. The soft tunic did not conceal the beginning of an erection.
"Let's go to the free-fall deck," Julia suggested, lowering her eyes.
The ship was lavishly fitted: no utilitarian, naked decks or bulkheads. It was not as Cord had envisioned, yet he recognized it as being right. He could remember embarking on Margravia amid the glitter of casinos, vast estates, and slave markets. He knew that the door down the passage led to the crew's quarters and the cabins for passengers' servants. This ship carried no second-class accommodations.
He knew it all, and knew that the computer link was supplying the knowledge. At the same time, it was all quite real. It would be very easy to slip into the dream and be aware of nothing else.
The free-fall room was in a lobe of the ship which did not rotate to provide gravity. Cord savored the sensation of decreasing weight. Part of the space was divided into small areas where passengers could take advantage of the novelty in privacy. Julia led him to an unoccupied one.
Freed of the restraint of gravity, the jeweled strands floated, exposing more of Julia's body. The hose and flimsy bandeau left just enough to the imagination to tease.
Sex was different in free fall. Postures which would be impossible in a strong gravitational field (or even a weak one) presented no challenge. Weightless, they writhed around each other, laughing as they recoiled from the cushioned walls.
"I've got you now," Cord said, pinning Julia against the wall. Garments floated like strangely hued clouds: here a cirrus wisp of black chiffon, there a cumulus of velvety white kilt.
The tip of his tail snaked up to stroke her. Julia lunged against him as his organ snaked up, too. The designer of the ship had thoughtfully provided handholds, so Cord was not dislodged.
"Oh, Cord," Julia sighed when they were no longer locked together. "I hope you aren't disappointed in me. I'm so many people-not all of them nice."
"Nice enough for me," Cord replied, kissing one leg from knee to delicate toes. What a position for a despised Catcher to find himself in!
Somehow, the dream changed and flowed. He heard a bell sounding high up and far away. Julia's expression changed. "We're going into overdrive."
She reached for him, and he entered her again. His clothes melted away like wax, forming little colored beads that bounced away. Julia's long strands of jewels dissolved and fell in a tinkling shower. Even the air around them changed colors, swirling around them, as the ship went into overdrive.
A thousand tiny fists pounded on his body; his brain exploded in a kaleidoscope of lights. He felt as though he were having an orgasm that was without end, and a tiny part of his mind wondered how Julia could survive this.
But she had. When the ship came out of overdrive, he looked into her glittering eyes and avid face. Their sweat-slicked bodies parted. The dream changed again.
Cord was naked except for a collar around his neck and a small chain which led from the collar to Julia's hand. She was now dressed in flimsy black stockings with an openwork pattern in them. Her firm breasts were covered by little circles of matching black. She led him down a corridor, into another lounge.
Inside, a huge table was set for dinner-the captain's table. The dishes were creamy porcelain, the tableware was inlaid with mosaics of precious stones. A gold-chased goblet was at
every setting.
Julia tugged him into a chair beside her. Suddenly all sorts of humans came forward to claim their seats.
The captain was Hamilton K. Around the table sat Tanna, the little brunette from the party, and the twins May and Mary, as well. All three women wore ornaments instead of clothing, leaving bare all the necessary parts of their bodies. They licked their lips in anticipation-but not of food.
Across from Cord sat the burly large man who'd first attacked him-the dead man from the Maida. The crewman smiled at him, revealing pointed fangs. Farther down the table sat a young man; it took Cord a moment to recognize the young security guard who stood outside his lab. The security guard turned and fondled the dead crewman.
At the very end of the table, in apparent segregation, were three Mehirans: Bird, and his dead parents. Bird ignored everyone at the table, and tended the mutilated bodies of his parents, which had a tendency to slump over as they fell apart.
Cord flinched. The dreams were turning ugly, and he wanted to leave. But Julia's silver chain prevented it. Then dinner started. Brisk stewards in crisp uniforms were in constant attendance, bringing a never-ending stream of delicacies. They filled glasses almost before they were empty and removed plates unobtrusively.
The captain, however, was served by a young woman who was naked but for an ornamental hip belt and neck collar.
Another slave, Cord realized, and then started when he recognized the woman as O'as Garatua.
O'as spilled a few drops of wine on the table cover while filling the captain's goblet. Hamilton K backhanded her across the mouth without interrupting his conversation with a flirtatious Tanna. O'as fell back against the wall, a trickle of blood on her lip. She managed not to drop the decanter, however, and returned to her place behind the captain's chair. O'as furtively wiped away the blood with the palm of one hand and stared hatefully at the back of K's head. No one else seemed to take notice of the incident… they were too busy stripping off what there was left of clothing.
