by George Olney
She found herself riding with Evan when Maev drifted a short distance away. She decided to stir the waters a little. "I didn't picture you as someone that would refuse a gift, especially when it's that nicely packaged."
Evan looked at her with his perpetually absent expression. "Gift? Oh, last night?"
He smiled. "It's all in knowing how to get what you want."
Frenchy looked back with a puzzled expression. "I don't get it."
"Tribal girls." He said with a grin. "They'll come on hard and expect you to react. When you don't, they wonder what the hell's wrong. Makes 'em insecure."
Frenchy's face showed her dawning awareness. "You were playing with her?"
"Let's say I turned the tables. In fact, I do like her a lot. She's exciting. But if I let her think I want her, the thrill will be over and she'll be in another bed as soon as she can find one. Happens that I don't like being taken for granted. When we do finally get into bed together, it'll be because I let her and she'll know it. It's the only way to get one of those girls to respect you."
Frenchy nodded in comprehension as her opinion of Evan went up another notch. It was beginning to look like Maev had finally met her match. Another thought struck her. "Say," she began hesitantly, "about your glasses. You're the only person I've seen since I left Earth that wears 'em. Why is that?"
Evan laughed briefly. "I got shot up once, pretty badly. They were originally a therapeutic aid to help my eyes learn to focus again after the transplant. Then, after my eyes improved, I found they were a big help in being able to see at almost any distance. Since they are neurally linked and have an infinite focus adjustment, I can see things with these that you'd need a set of distance lenses to spot, or a microscope. Add the fact that my transplant was one of those rare cases that never returned to one hundred percent and you have my reasons. They're a pain in the ass from time to time, but they let me see better than anyone else around me that doesn't have artificial implants."
Frenchy nodded in understanding. "Oh, that's how you were able to see those birds so far away!"
Evan nodded. "I could do better with implants, but who wants to see the world through sensors if he doesn't have to?"
"Is that what happened to Grae's eye?"
Evan shrugged. "Don't know. He had both eyes when we mustered out after the War. I didn't know he'd lost one."
Frenchy nodded. "He wears an eye patch over one of your implanted sensors. He looks like some kind of pirate."
Evan looked at her briefly and grinned. "The way you say that makes me think of a romantic figure."
She started to deny that comment hotly, but paused in confusion as she realized that was exactly what she meant. She tabled further conversation for a while.
A little later, she noticed the thoughtful expression on Maev's face and decided this would be a good time to open a little dialog. "Got over last night?" she asked, careful to note that Evan wasn't in earshot.
Maev also checked before answering. "Tell me something. How do the women on your world go about getting men?"
Hoo, Boy! The little minx could sure think up some lulus! There were so many things she wanted to say to that, Frenchy's mind went totally blank. "Uh, what brought this about?"
Maev looked at her with a frustrated expression. "He acts like he's from the same repressed culture you come from!"
Repressed! Her? Stripper/bar girl/dancer/model/easy hookup Frenchy? She was repressed? "Sister," she replied with feeling, "you've sure as hell got the wrong woman! There's a lot you don't know about my life and none of it is repressed!"
Maev looked away and snorted in disgust. "Ohh, I'm sorry, damn it! It's just that he doesn't respond normally when I want to have sex and you seem to get upset whenever I try, anyhow! You two are a good match for each other."
"And you're frustrated, and you've been rejected, and your pride was hurt," Frenchy replied in a gentle, if slightly sardonic voice. She recognized the symptoms now. She began to feel a certain sympathy for the girl. Hell, she’d been tossed by men, too.
Not that Maev hadn't deserved it.
Or had she? Maev was just being herself.
"Look, honey," she finally said in a sympathetic tone, "maybe what we have is a little cultural problem here. Then again, maybe we both have to understand some things about each other."
Maev looked back at her, frustration still showing on her face, but she was also listening to what Frenchy was saying. Frenchy studied her for a moment and continued, "Do you know what I did before Grae picked me up? I told you I was a dancer, but do you know what kind?"
Maev surprised her. "I read your file at Arm Headquarters before I went to your hotel room. Grae had one made up for some reason I couldn't fathom and that's where I found out about your psi abilities. The entry he put in for occupation was 'exotic dancer'. I thought that meant you entertained with the kind of dance you did in the Freehold."
Frenchy snorted wryly. "Grae, darlin', has a sense of humor. Considering that I was buck naked when I danced in the Freehold, your guess wasn't too far off the mark. I was a striptease dancer, a stripper, and a damn good one."
Maev looked puzzled. "What does that mean?"
Frenchy smiled ruefully. "In words you'd understand, I would take off my clothing and perform a sexually enticing dance on stage to entertain and titillate men."
"And that gave you your choice of bed mate?"
Frenchy frowned at Maev. "You're thinking like you usually do. No, I did not do it for a night's partner. It was my job. It was how I made a living, such as it was."
Maev's expression was thoughtful. "I've heard of things like that on some of the Galactic worlds and I always thought they were strange. I mean, what's clothing, or lack of it, got to do with sexual longing? I never served on those worlds while I was in the Arm and I'm glad of it. Still, why did you do it? I mean, you're a good dancer. Couldn't you have done that for a job?"
Frenchy looked off into the distance, marshaling her thoughts. "Lots of reasons. I never got too far on the legitimate dance stage once I found out how much money could be made as a stripper. I made more money in my first year shaking my bare butt than I made in all the dancing gigs I ever had before that. I did a few other things, too, but they all revolved around using my looks and my body to make money. I had no education and they were the best assets I had to use, so I used them.
"Then, too, there's another side to the coin. I found out that I had a power, a control over men when I danced and that got to be addictive. A lot of men treated me like dirt off stage, but once I got in the floodlights I had all their attention and I really enjoyed showing those jerks something they could never touch!"
Maev winced at the vehemence in the last sentence. "You hate men, don't you?" she asked softly.
"I used to," Frenchy said frankly, "but not anymore. Not since I met Grae. Oh, I hated him too, for a while, but no more. Now that I'm free, I want him more than ever. He's the first guy that ever treated me decently and he loves me. That's more than anyone has ever done before in my life. That's why I'm going to find him. I'm not about to let him go off and die. I think I love him too. At least, I want the time to find out if it's real."
Maev was silent for a while. "I see, I think. But what's that got to do with me?"
"Well, Evan's in no sense repressed, Maev. He's just not into casual sex. That's unusual in a man, in my experience. I also know those are the ones worth going after."
"Why? Sex is an enjoyable act. Why not just enjoy it and go on about your business?"
Intellectually, Frenchy knew the girl had to be older than she was. Right then, though, she felt like a mother explaining the facts of life to a teenage daughter. Like the one she was going to have one day, she promised herself. Another reason for keeping that bum alive, besides the fact, she told herself, that she was pretty certain she loved him. "Well, there's no denying sex is fun for a recreation. I've always enjoyed it. But I've learned there's more to it than just fun between two people that re
ally care for each other. That's something you only learn with the right man. It's an emotional sharing, too. I didn't learn that until Grae came along. I'm sure he was that way with his bondsmate, but he's that way with me, too. That's a feeling you can't hide. Between two bodies, it's just a recreation. Between two people that care for each other, it's something special."
"You know," Maev said thoughtfully, "I've spent enough time around you and Grae to recognize that you have that something special. I can see it in other matings, too. I also saw you both spent a lot of time hiding that feeling from yourselves."
Frenchy nodded. "I can see we did now. He didn't acknowledge it until it was almost too late. I let him go before I realized what was going on. Well, I don't give a damn what customs and smugglers have to say about it. I'm going to get my man back. Maybe you'll have someone like that, someday."
"Evan?" Maev suddenly giggled.
"Well," Frenchy laughed. "He's a start."
Maev grew solemn again. "You know, that's a frightening thought. I mean, you give up so much if you tie yourself down to one person."
Frenchy shook her head. "Until Grae, I never had one person. I didn't realize just how lonely that was. I guess that was what was bothering me about you and your man hopping. I saw you doing that and I could see all the lonely immature jerks I used to see in the front row around the stage. I saw a little of me, too. Now that I have Grae, I've grown up emotionally and I'm never going back. I don't look at it as a restriction. I've gained too much. Once you have someone that really cares about you, you're never alone again. That means a lot."
"Evan?" Maev said again, a bit amazed.
Frenchy threw up her hands. "Hell, who knows? He might be an ax murderer! All I know is he's here and he seems to take sex a little more seriously than the rest of the men I've seen. That's one good point!
"Besides," she added thoughtfully, "Grae thought he was good people. That's a pretty decent recommendation in my book."
Maev nodded decisively. "Okay. He's the experiment. I'll try him out and see if we can get something going."
"Anyway," she added, looking at the man riding a ways ahead of them, "he's cute. And interesting."
Frenchy snorted. "Not my type. But what the hell, he's worth a try."
"So what do I do? We still come back to my original question."
Frenchy thought for a moment. Trying to start a serious relationship with a man was not her strong suit. In fact, she had no experience in it whatsoever. Time to improvise. "Make friends with him."
"Huh?"
"Make friends with him. Lay off the hard sell and get to be friends." She had a sudden flash of insight. "The folks that really make it work are as much friends as lovers."
"Friends, huh?" Maev grew silent and began eyeing Evan in thoughtful speculation as she rode.
Ahead, Evan had a strange feeling. He didn't know what was wrong but a sudden ominous chill ran up his spine. He looked around to see Maev pulling up next to him, a determined expression on her face. Nothing to worry about there, but why did she remind him of the farmer's wife approaching a barnyard fowl about four hours before dinner? Looking further back, he noticed Frenchy's expression was one of patent innocence. He began to get the feeling, common to the male, that somewhere, far beyond the reach of his consciousness, there was Female Connivance Afoot.
Maev smiled brightly as she rode up next to him. "Hi."
Guardedly, he nodded, wondering what the hell she was going to spring on him next. "I see you've decided to speak to me again. That's nice."
She flushed and looked down for a second, embarrassed. "Look," she said after a few moments, "I just wanted to say I'm sorry for the way I acted last night. I guess I was a little pushy."
Evan was smart enough to say nothing, just nod.
Maev forged on. "I'm me and you're you and we look at things just a little differently and I kind of forgot that and I'm really not that bad a person when you get to know me and... and... and... Oh, Hell!"
Flustered and lost in her words for a moment, she couldn't figure out what to do or say next. Then she decided and stuck out her hand. "Can we just be friends?"
After a long look at her face, Evan reached out and shook the offered hand.
Riding a discreet distance to the rear, Frenchy smiled as she watched them.
The free flowing conversation between Maev and Evan continued for quite a while, easy and relaxed in the manner of the trail. Although both were fully aware of their surroundings as they rode, it was Evan that first noticed the riders on the close horizon. Breaking off what he was saying as he stared at them intently, he commented in his absent voice, "Think we'll have to finish this another time. Looks like visitors."
Maev followed his glance. By this time she, too, was aware of the advantages of his glasses. "I can barely make them out. Do they look Tribal?"
Evan nodded. "Tribal, of some sort. Your Tribe isn't into casual feuding, is it?"
Maev smiled, still intent on the approaching riders. "That's back in historical times. We mostly look for our fights off planet these days.
"On the other hand," she continued, "a smart rider is always just a little suspicious this far out in the Barrens."
He nodded. "Good point. I see six of them. Let's get Frenchy up here and hope that's all there are."
He smiled at her. "Now that we're being civilized to each other, there's no need for her to lurk in the background, watching her plots unfold."
Maev flushed again, but smiled gamely at him. "Well, it's working, isn't it?"
He nodded, grinned back at her, then turned and waved Frenchy to join them. As she rode up to the pair, he waved at the oncoming riders. "Looks like we have company."
Frenchy looked at Maev. "Is that good?"
Maev shrugged. "That depends. It's a good idea to be careful. Do you feel anything about them?"
Evan hadn't yet found out about Frenchy's psi talents, whatever they were. He looked at her quizzically. "Feel?"
It was Frenchy's turn to look slightly embarrassed. "Something Locar said I have. He's not sure what I can do, but he says I can do something."
She stopped short, a strange expression on her face. "Maybe I can feel something! Guys, we've got a problem fixing to happen. I'm not sure, but I think these characters are bringing trouble."
After his first skepticism, Evan totally accepted Frenchy's warning. Where survival was the topic, he was totally pragmatic about anything that would enhance it. Fact took a long lead over theory in his book, especially where his skin was concerned. He took her feeling as fact and began thinking hard. "Okay," he said in his normal absent minded tones, but his eyes were continually scanning the horizon and returning repeatedly to the oncoming riders, "they were probably scanning us with distance lenses long before we knew they were here. On the other hand, there is nothing to outwardly give away our abilities or experience. Everyone stay calm and just a little helpless. I'll do that helpless part, girls, you just stay calm."
Frenchy snorted sarcastically, even as her own eyes were trying to see the riders better. "You were made for the part. That still leaves out what in hell we do after putting up a false front."
Evan favored the women with an abstracted smile. "I can see them scanning us again. That'll be the last time until they get close that they get a good look at us. Or will be if they don't want to give themselves away. I think they're good enough that they'll avoid exposing their purpose until too late.
"Gee, it's wonderful when the opposition tries to use its brains."
Maev commented through a completely false smile, "Agreed, but that still begs the question of just what in the hell we're going to do."
"Like to shoot them early," Evan mused as he rode, "but they all have rifles and we only have Maev's. Odds are too bad for a long range fight. There's six of them, three of us."
He nodded as though deciding a philosophical question to himself. "Yep. Have to let them get close. Ladies, while we have a few unobserved moments, put
your weapons where you can get them easily."
Frenchy reached for her bopper but Evan shook his head. "Nope, that gun's too obvious. They're sure to have already seen it. Just tuck your ax where you can get it in a hurry. Maev, do the same with your pistol. I've got my stutter gun in my bag, but we don't have time to get it. We're going to have to let them get close enough to get inside their guard.
"That is," he added virtuously, "if they're really bad guys. We may have misjudged them sorely."
Frenchy favored him with a sour look. "Fat chance, bucko. These birds are fairly screaming evil intent, now that I can feel it."
"Good enough for me," Maev commented calmly, drawing her pistol and tucking it within easy reach under a fold of her saddle blanket.
Frenchy casually followed her lead, drawing her ax and tucking the branching head under the lip of her forward saddle bag, leaving the handle free like some harmless tool. She knew she could have it free and on its way through the air in an instant.
"Heads up ladies," Evan said softly, waving in typical loose jointed fashion at the approaching riders, "company's almost here. Don't waste time looking virtuous, just be innocently appealing."
Frenchy didn't reply to that comment, but the thought struck her that the three of them were taking the impending arrival of bad guys one and sundry with the amused tolerance of competent professionals having to deal with a minor annoyance, prior to getting on with whatever it was they were doing. Interestingly, she also felt that way. She knew there was a fight coming and somebody was going to get killed, but she wasn't overly excited at the prospect. She was perfectly certain of the ability of her and her companions to handle any assortment of villains, at least up to the level where it would require Grae's presence.
My, she thought, how times and little blonde girls have changed!
The six that rode up were dressed in typical Tribal garb, but there was some indefinable difference she couldn't pinpoint. Interestingly, none of the six sported the ever-present facial patterns of the Tribes. She wondered if that was intentional. Maev supplied it for her in a soft voice. "There're no tribe markings, anywhere. These guys are rogues, probably outlaws."
