She gazed up into his eyes. “I do, Eliot. I trust you.” She relaxed into his arms and kissed him. It lasted for a long time, and held deeper meaning than mere gratification. That simple acknowledgment—that she trusted this man—felt like a major step forward in their relationship. Perhaps in her ability to have relationships. All her sexually mature life, she’d sought powerful men as lovers, but had always resisted getting too close to them—and now that she’d come clean to Rachel, she was beginning to understand why. Releasing her pain and guilt toward her father, reminding herself of the love and trust they’d once shared, made it easier to lower her defenses and let herself believe she could safely embrace a closer connection to this man.
Instead of trying to express that in words, though, she said it with her lips, her hands, her body. She and Eliot wrestled again, this time assaulting only each other’s clothes. He dominated as usual, but this time she made no effort to jockey for position, instead trusting herself to his powerful, sensitive hands. Instead of trying to take from him, to assert her will, she simply gave joy, shared joy, experienced joy. It made it truly special and moving, rewarding her well beyond the pleasure his hands and mouth imparted upon her body with virtuoso skill.
After a long while, she lay relaxed atop him, gazing up at his face. “What was it like on Earth?” she asked him. “For you and the Vanguard? I mean, I know all the stories of what you did … but not from your side. Except what my dad told me, and he was a kid for most of it. And the others I’ve met, they told me about some of their adventures, but didn’t want to talk about … what was really going on underneath it all.”
So Eliot told her of how he had argued with the Vanguard leadership to let him and his peers go down to Earth and try to make a difference in a turbulent world. How their fear of backlash from a prejudiced population had made them unwilling to help. How Eliot had dismissed them as hidebound cowards and forced the issue, leading the habitat’s most successful and powerful mods down to save lives in defiance of the leaders of both Vanguard and Earth. How he had kept them committed to their mission despite the controversy, the rhetoric, the hate mail, the death threats. Even despite the actual deaths of some of his peers—whether intentionally targeted, as Liesl Warner had been, or in defense of others like Liam Shannon. Eliot told her how their brave deaths had only inspired him to fight harder, determined to give them meaning.
“But I saw that what we were doing was only a stopgap,” he told her as he absently caressed her back. “I realized that if we truly wished to make a difference, we had to do it in the political and social arena. Had to attack the causes of the turmoil as well as the effects. We were more than just crimefighters; we had the intellect to lead the way in finding solutions to the environmental woes, engineering new crops to fight the famines, building the new economy of the Molecular Age and the sociopolitical institutions that would rely on it. We were something greater than human, so we had to aspire to a greater goal than simply bringing the odd terrorists and rioters to justice.”
“Isn’t that a little arrogant?”
He studied her. “Arrogance is the assertion of a status or right to which one is not entitled. Is it arrogant to acknowledge an ability you actually do have? Would it be arrogant, say, for you to state that you can bench-press a tonne in one gee?” He stopped himself. “Never mind. I suppose we were arrogant, not in asserting our ability to make those decisions, but in failing to acknowledge that others had a voice in the process as well. That is not a mistake we will repeat again.” He smirked. “I was young, cocky, and heavy-handed. I hadn’t yet learned the value of subtlety. When I tried to stave off the building tensions between Earth and the orbital nations, tensions we had helped to create, I did it by trying to dominate and bully both sides into compliance, and only made things worse.
“Once we relocated to the Belt, our goodwill squandered largely through my own excesses, I took much time to ponder my errors, to learn from them. Among my own people, I learned how to govern through consensus, to persuade through subtle diplomacy. I created an offspring who could fulfill that ideal, could be everything I am not, and much that I am. And now, she is helping me fulfill my ambition at last—but to do so in the right way this time.”
He stroked Emry’s hair. “And now I have you on my side as well, offering a merging of Vanguardian and outside perspectives. Like Psyche, you are a part of me, and yet you bring me more than I have on my own. You are the crucial bridge I need to unite the Vanguard with the Troubleshooters, and through them with the mainstream. Psyche may have a beauty and charisma to match your own, but even she cannot offer that symbolism.”
Emry stared at him uneasily. “So that’s what I am to you? A symbol? A tool?”
He smiled. “Far more, Emerald. You may be the key to achieving my greatest desire. I cherish you for that.” His brow furrowed. “Perhaps it would be more romantic to say I cherish you simply for yourself. Do not doubt that I do, Emerald. But I am an ambitious man. My life has been defined by my goals. And so my feelings are defined in those terms as well.” He stroked her cheek. “I only hope you don’t feel slighted by that. By having to … share me with my ambitions.”
“Oh, no, Eliot!” She cradled his face in her hands and kissed him softly. “I wouldn’t have you any other way. You don’t know how amazing it feels to be with you, Eliot. I mean, people call me a celebrity, but I haven’t done much to deserve it. It’s mostly just the face, the tits, and the checkered past. But you … I think you’re the kind of man they still write history books about thousands of years later. You’re a great leader, a visionary. In the past, you probably could’ve been a great conqueror. An Alexander, an Ashoka. You have that kind of power and will. But you chose to be a statesman … a Jefferson, an al-Bayyari. I think you’re gonna be the one who unites the Belt … maybe the whole Sol System.
“I don’t know,” she went on a moment later. “Like I said, all this nation-building, this history-making … it’s way the vack out of my league. But the man who’s able to do it all … it’s an incredible feeling to be around that man. To know that … he thinks I have a place in his life, even in his goals, it’s…”
She searched for words. Nothing seemed right … until she had to admit that only three words would do, the ones that had been looming in the back of her mind for some time and that she finally felt brave enough to face. She prefaced them with one more deep kiss, fraught with meaning. “Eliot … I love you.”
He said nothing in return. He simply pulled her to him and took her once again. It was enough. It made her feel, more than anything else had made her feel in a decade, that she belonged. In Eliot Thorne’s arms, she was home.
And she would be happy never to leave home again.
* * *
“I’ve never felt like this, Zephy!” Emry sighed as she floated in Zephyr’s residential deck, feeling weightless in more ways than one. “At least, I never let myself feel it. Now I don’t know what I was so afraid of!”
Zephyr’s avatar studied her from the display wall. He was again in stallion mode, although he’d made it silver and added Art Deco wings which she quite liked. She didn’t much miss the naked Greek god now that she had the real thing on a several-times-daily basis. “Being hurt, I suppose,” he suggested. “Losing the one you love. That’s usually the risk people run. And it’s one you’d be understandably sensitive to.”
Zephyr’s words gave her pause. “I guess so. Also … hurting the man, I guess. I didn’t want to risk screwing it up for both of us. Again.” She shook off her moment of melancholy. “But Eliot … he’s a rock. I can’t imagine there being anything he couldn’t handle, couldn’t solve.”
The stallion shook his mane. “High praise indeed. So you’re confident that he can help us expose Tai and redeem the TSC?”
“Of course.”
“I see. And how is that coming, exactly? If he’s managed to make any significant progress, you neglected to mention it.”
“I’d’ve told y
ou if he had—you know that.”
“Well … I suppose I’m just feeling a little neglected. This is the first time you’ve been to see me in days.”
“Aww, Zeph, I’m sorry!” She stroked his nearest bulkhead. “I’ve just been so caught up in Eliot. And Psyche, Grandma Rachel, the whole Vanguard!”
“I understand,” he told her. “And of course there’s your ongoing effort to contact Sensei Villareal. Right?”
“Wha? Oh, Zephy, you know I can’t risk implicating him by contacting him myself! Eliot and Psyche are handling it.”
“With little success so far.”
“Yeah, that’s weird. I would’ve thought Sensei’d be open to working with the Vanguard. But Eliot says he hasn’t responded to our advances.”
“Would you like me to try contacting him?”
Emry stared at his avatar. “You know that’d be just as bad as if I did it. What’s this all about, Zeph?”
“I just want to make sure you keep your focus. I’m glad for you that you’re so happy, but perhaps this isn’t the ideal time to indulge in it.”
“What else is there to do?” she asked. “Eliot just sent Psyche off to Mars to look for more dirt on Tai. They think he has allies there who could be turned. And Sensei’s got some kind of business meeting on Phobos, so Psyche’s gonna try to contact him there. Meanwhile I’m just laying low. Wanted criminal, remember? Take it from an old Freakshow girl—when the law’s after you, sometimes it’s best to duck in a hole and stay real quiet for a while. And it helps to have someone to keep you company while you’re there,” she finished with a saucy grin as she sorted through her sexiest outfits, looking for something worthy of being ripped to shreds by Eliot tonight.
Zephyr morphed his avatar back into the Greek god, apparently so he could cross his arms at her and frown. “I defer to your expertise in fugitive living. Still, I’d be more comfortable if we were more in the loop. You’re surprisingly content with delegating this to the Thornes.”
“And why shouldn’t I be? I’m no politician, no great strategist. I’m muscle. Point me at a bad guy and I punch him.”
The avatar’s gaze softened. “You underestimate yourself, Emry. You have Vanguardian intelligence, even if you’ve resisted cultivating it. And it puzzles me that you aren’t asking more questions. That you aren’t straining at the bit—pardon the equestrian metaphor—to get out there and fix this problem. It doesn’t seem like you.”
“That’s ’cause before now, I was never this much at peace. I couldn’t let myself relax and trust other people.” She threw him a look. “Maybe you could try trusting a little more. Eliot has taken us both under his protection, and frankly you aren’t sounding very grateful.”
“Gratitude doesn’t alter the facts. And the fact is, the longer we wait, the more entrenched Gregor Tai’s control of the TSC becomes.”
“I know that. Eliot is doing all he can.”
“I’d prefer it if we could see the specifics of that for ourselves.”
Emry sighed. “Why can’t you trust him, Zeph? He’s not the kind of human who enslaved and abused you. He’s the kind who’s fought against people like that his whole life!”
“And I respect that about him. But he is also a very ambitious and calculating man who values control above all else.”
“You don’t still think he’s up to something?”
“A man like Thorne, by his nature, is always up to many things at any given time. He makes no secret of his goals. And he would use any means at his disposal to fulfill them.”
This was getting ridiculous. “Including me?” she shot back. “Zephy, if you’re trying to say he’s tricked me into falling in love with him—well, that’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever said! You know me, Zeph! You know I’m not that type!”
“I also know that Vanguardians are skilled at pheromonal control. Tell me—do you find he smells alluring even after extensive physical exertion?”
Emry sighed. “Ohh, yeah.”
“Parandrostenol.”
“Whoozits?”
“Normal male perspiration contains a pheromone called androstenol, which is attractive to women. But within twenty minutes, it oxidizes to androstenone, which tends to be repellent to women. Parandrostenol is a synthetic variant, which resists oxidation. Thorne has apparently engineered himself to secrete it instead—thus intensifying his attractive power.”
“So what?” Emry challenged. “You were the one who told me about the limits of pheromones. I’m not some mindless bitch in heat. And don’t you dare pick up that straight line!”
“I wasn’t going to. Emry, I know you’re not blind or foolish. But I also know you’ve resisted love for a long time, even with partners who would have been good for you. Now that you’ve made greater peace with your demons and finally feel free to love, I imagine the desire to give into the temptation must be very powerful. And that makes it easy to exploit.”
Emry was too distracted now to focus on wardrobe. She just shoved a number of outfits into her duffel bag, deciding she’d choose one later. “You’ve got it all wrong. I’m not blinded by love or pheromones or anything. My head’s clearer than it’s ever been! I feel … whole now. I feel like I’m finally a grown woman.”
“And yet you’re deferring to Thorne to make decisions for you. Are you sure you aren’t trying to recapture the idyll of your childhood? Feeling secure in the arms of a powerful man, the company of a warm and affectionate woman?”
Emry grimaced. “Oh, don’t go Oedipal on me, Rex! That’s just creepy!” She pushed off the closet doors, aiming for the ladder well. “I don’t know what kind of cyber mood you’re in today, Zephy,” she said as she pulled herself headfirst down the ladder, “but you’re really getting on my nerves! And you’re getting close to crossing a line.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way, Emry. I’m just trying to look out for you.”
“Well, when I need you to, I’ll let you know!” She slapped the airlock panel.
But the door stayed closed. “Just let me say my piece, Emerald,” Zephyr said over the intercom.
She sighed. “Make it quick. I’m running late.”
“The record shows Eliot Thorne to be a man who doesn’t take well to being disagreed with. When faced with those holding dissenting opinions, he either persuades them to change their minds … or he dissociates from them altogether and creates people who will be more sympathetic. What happens, Emry, when you and he aren’t pursuing the same goals?”
“What happens when I kick this door open? Huh? Will it hurt? Tell me that.”
Without another word, Zephyr allowed the lock to open for her. But Emry paused halfway through the door. “I’m sorry, pal. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“I’m unharmed.”
“But you’re wrong about him. He can admit his mistakes. He’s learned a lot from the ones he made on Earth. And he trusts me. He thinks I have a real role to play in the future he’s building. I know he’d listen to me.
“He’s a strong-willed man, sure, and an ambitious one. But he’s a good man. Do you really think I could love him otherwise?”
Zephyr didn’t reply for a moment. “Even good men bear close watching when they have great power.”
Emry sighed. He just wasn’t letting this go! “And he knows that, damn it! That’s the whole point of going after—” She broke off. “Just let me out.”
“I’m sorry I upset you.”
“Yeah, me too. Right now I gotta go.”
The outer doors opened onto the access tunnel. Emry shot through them without another word. He’ll see, she thought. Soon we’ll have Sensei on our side and this whole thing will be straightened out, just like Eliot planned. Villareal’s silence on this affair remained odd, but Emry was confident it would change soon. If anyone can get through to him, Psyche can.
Private shuttle HV763M
Keeping station near Phobos
Yukio Villareal pulled Psyche’s nude body against his and clutch
ed her tightly. Her hair flowed forward in the microgravity, writhing around their torsos like a living thing, its spun-gold strands stroking and tickling his skin. He’d never felt hair so soft, so silky. It was one of the many things he loved about Psyche.
The thought came with a twinge of guilt that Yukio tried to shake off. There was no reason for it, he told himself. His wife accepted that he was simply one of those men for whom monogamy was not an option, and that the very things that drew her to him would inevitably draw others. He’d never made a secret of that with any woman, although his first wife had not proved as able to live with it as she’d imagined. But Helena had always tolerated it, even indulged in a few dalliances herself. She believed, as he did, that the only real infidelity was deception.
And that was the problem. Yukio had always striven to be scrupulously honest about his affairs. As an active Troubleshooter, he had never risked compromising his judgment by sleeping with a woman he was charged with protecting—not until afterwards, anyway. As an administrator, he had never slept with a Troubleshooter, trainee or Corps employee (which took some willpower when their ranks included the likes of Lydia Muchangi or Emerald Blair). And he had never, ever kept an affair secret from his wife. Until this one.
As always, he reminded himself that there were very good reasons for it. Psyche had insisted, months ago when their affair had begun, that no one could know. Her father was overprotective, and despite his long isolation from Strider society, had an extensive intelligence network keeping him informed. Indeed, it was a covert fact-finding mission that had brought Psyche to Demetria to begin with. Eliot Thorne was slow to trust, and if he ever discovered that his own daughter had fallen in love with an older man who just happened to be the founder of the Troubleshooter Corps and one of the subjects of her investigations, his fury would jeopardize any hope of rapprochement between Vanguard and the Corps. So it was imperative, Psyche had stressed with tears in those quicksilver eyes, that no one—absolutely no one—could ever know of their love affair. That was why Yukio had needed to lie to his wife and fabricate a business trip to Phobos when Psyche had summoned him for a rendezvous there. Yukio hated keeping a secret from Helena, but Psyche was absolutely convinced it was necessary. And he trusted Psyche. He respected her judgment. He would rather die than see her unhappy.
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