The shuttle touched down with the slightest bump and the hatch slid open.
Flinging off the seat belt, Sam stood up and hurried to the exit. She paused and caught the tang of sea, and other scents—wattle and eucalyptus. Australia. Home. The heat and humidity was like Chizan, the sky overhead was not mauve, but the purest azure as far as the eye could see. In contrast the beach was glittering white and beyond the dunes and palm trees, the soil was ocher. She breathed in. So good to be home!
John held out his hand to her and they stepped down the ramp.
The thought that they could sneak in and out without anyone noticing was at best a dream. In reality, John was met by the mayor and other dignitaries as well as the Terran Ambassador from Canberra.
“Feegle me!” John hissed beneath his breath.
“Maybe later, if you’re a good kitty,” Sam whispered.
“And what if I’m a bad kitty?”
“Same thing.”
“You’re on.”
Laughing, John linked her hand through his arm and strode forward.
They were waved through Customs and the security screen. The official reception party fanned out around them. As one bureaucrat began his spiel, John’s eyes lit up as he studied the crowd.
“Pete!”
A blonde, tanned man wearing a garish Hawaiian shirt, jagged cut off jeans and an Akubra shouldered through the crowd, distracting the carefully orchestrated welcoming committee.
The stranger clapped John on the shoulder. He was as tall as John, well-muscled, his long hair tied back in an untidy tail. They embraced, laughing.
“I hear ya was coming, mate. There’s a coldie waiting.”
“Oh man, sounds good.”
“Can ya give these the flick?” He glanced at the officials, raising a sun-bleached brow.
“Not for a while. Besides…” John held out his hand and pulled Sam forward. “This is my kitten. Samantha.”
Pete grabbed Sam’s hand and pumped. “Gidday, and welcome.”
“Thanks.” Retrieving her hand she frowned at her throbbing fingers and wondered if any bones were broken.
“Come and have that beer as soon as you’re settled. You and the um, what’s it in your lingo?”
“Wife,” John said. “My fe’ha tu.”
“Bloody hell, Jo, how is it cat-speak is so bloody unpronounceable.”
“Not to me it isn’t.”
Pete tilted his akubra and studied them both. “I figure you’ve got some stories to tell. I wanna hear them first. Catch ya.” He strode off.
“A colorful character,” Karev said. “As are all your associates, so…”
“Cat got your tongue, Captain?” John smiled and Sam hid her laughter behind her hand.
“In the future, anyone who wishes an audience with you, my lord, must first clear it with your security chief.”
John went to retort, but Sam pinched his wrist, shaking her head, signing against his skin: His. Job. Upset. Not. He nodded.
Sam lifted a brow. “You like that nickname? You want me to call you Jo?”
John sniffed. “Later, we’ll talk about it.”
“Oh, why?” Sam raised a brow.
“Later, fe’ha tu.”
“Whatever you say…Jo.”
He mind-growled at her and turned his attention to the committee spokesperson.
They endured fifteen minutes of speeches and welcome and made their polite responses. All the while Captain Karev chafed behind them.
Finally, the welcome wagon departed.
Karev hissed. “Feegling hell! Humans! They never say with one word, what they can stretch to ten. Or a hundred.”
Sam laughed.
“And now san-Duran and Sher-ean, permit me to escort you to your home. Exactly where might it be?”
John lifted his chin, pointing out to sea. “About two kilometers that-a-way.”
“Ah, a boat, my lord?”
“Cut that my lord, crap, Karev, or I’ll fry your whiskers. Understood?” John’s tawny gaze narrowed on the older felinus. “My home isn’t exactly a boat.”
“No matter. The security team will check it out and once—”
“There’s not going to be a security check.”
“I have my orders from the king.” Karev planted his feet firmly on the ground, and folded his arms, dark eyes flashing. “My orders, san-Duran.”
John sighed. “Okay. Check it out, you won’t find anything.”
The Captain growled. “These days no one can assume safe unless measures are taken to make it so.”
Sam saw that the two men tried not to look at her, but their avoidance only made it more obvious: trying to spare her feelings, trying to make certain she knew she would be safe. Stars! How tired she was getting of everyone creeping around her as if she was fragile and would shatter at any moment with the wrong word, or look…
She lifted her chin. “Hey, if you can find a starlord hiding under my bed, I have first dibs on him. I carry three knives. So, where’s my suitcase?” She left the men gawking after her as she walked away.
“How’d you get the knives through customs?” John demanded, catching up with her, matching her stride for stride.
“Taren taught me a trick or two. I’m packing and I’m not telling where.”
“Then I’ll have to frisk you.”
“You’re welcome to try.”
“Same thing, kitten-mine.”
“Right.” Sam stepped away.
“Ah, kitten?”
She halted and looked over her shoulder. “Yes?”
“Where’re you going?”
“To find my suitcase and get out of here.”
“Wrong way, sweetheart.”
Sam frowned. “I knew that.”
Laughing, John led her to the shuttle. Porters had unloaded their belongings onto an anti grav unit. Karev supervised their removal to the hover-craft.
A half hour later with cargo and passengers secured, the boat skimmed over the sparkling water, past an array of pyramid-shaped solar-carb invertors, before veering north, toward a distant speck on the Indian Ocean.
Minutes passed, the only sound was the water slapping the sides of the solar-powered hovercraft.
As the boat finally slowed, Sam could see a white, multi-tiered building floating on the water, the architecture a mix of futuristic and Chizan elegance with carved metal archways leading into shaded terraces.
She studied John, seeing his smile. “Our home, kitten.”
“It’s on the sea.”
“Mm. I like my isolation and it’s my office. The oyster farm is one hundred meters to the north, just below that long walkway.” He pointed, his arm resting over her shoulder. He withdrew, his fingers lightly teasing her ear lobe, then her nape.
The hover craft drew alongside a landing platform and John rose, stepped up onto the first step and held out his hand to Sam. He led her up the metal stairs.
Glancing around, Sam was stunned. A wide platform-patio was bounded by four towers, over which stretched a plasti-shield sun-shade shaped like an oyster shell. Running along two sides of the patio was a triple-level dwelling, with both opaque and transparent plasti-shield walls. Metal balustrades ran the length of the house and potted plants and garden beds gave splashes of color around the complex.
“Look at those roses! How do they survive the sea salt?”
“Selective screening, Sam. I even have a veggie patch at the back and an oak tree.”
Sam gaped and he grinned.
The gangways branching off the patio stretched across the sea in four directions, reminding her of the bridges linking the Chizan palace to the surrounding countryside.
“I’ll have the cases brought, san-Duran, Sher-ean.” Karev bowed.
John grimaced. Sam bit back her smile, knowing that he had little time for the formality that Karev insisted was his due—as the heir apparent.
Taking her hand, John led her over the patio, past a pond with a dolphin-shaped founta
in, and up several steps. Pushing open a sliding door, he stood back and Sam entered, brushing aside a mauve beaded curtain.
It was an open plan apartment and on the floors above, she glimpsed rooms all partitioned by billowing diaphanous curtains and carved wooden screens.
The tiled floor was a mix of mauve and cream and a hint of green, as were the inner walls. Massive external plasti walls allowed a stunning view of the Indian Ocean. One wall was hung with tiers of crystals that refracted the sunlight, sending rainbows dancing across the room. Crystal chandeliers tinkled in the breeze.
There were several low carved wooden lounges and chairs clustered around a table holding a giant amethyst crystal-light. Dotted about the room were mother of pearl inlaid wooden boxes and chests. Large cushions of velvet and silk, richly embroidered and tasseled, lay strew on the floor, or rested against wooden screens that formed miniature rooms within rooms. Potted plants stood in every corner. A huge filigree bronze brazier dominated the center of the room.
Sam ran her hand over the intricately carved lounge chair closest to her. “I know why you wanted to get home so badly.”
“You like it?”
“I love it. It’s just perfect.”
“I’m sure you’ll want to re-decorate. Add your own touches. That’s fine with me. Once we’re settled, I’ll take you to Exotique. It’s the clearing house in the spaceport for all off world imports. Now that, kitten-mine, is an Aladdin’s cave. You’ll have the decorator’s choice of ten worlds beside our own.”
“Chizan…that’s good. I’d like to have more Chizan… What? Why are you smiling?”
“When I said our world, I meant Earth.”
Sam paused. “When I think of our world, I think of Chizan. I’ve been with cats too long.”
John inclined his head. “Thank you for the compliment. Let me show you the whole house.”
Behind them, porters delivered the cases and crates, quietly, efficiently, with Karev overseeing the operation.
Beneath the main glass staircase, Sam saw the kitchen, again a blend of ultra modern steel and traditional wood panels, the computer console dispensers and the solar range cooker beneath the low, wide flue.
John led Sam to the first level. She glimpsed a sitting room, pure felinus style with no chairs, just thick rugs and piles of cushions and diaphanous silks hanging from the ceiling. An octo-speaker stereo system sat against one wall beside a television and DVD unit. Ancient, leather-bound books shared shelf space with digital books and a holo projector.
“Does that projector have images like at Rendezvous?” Sam asked.
“It can do, if you want. What images would you like programmed into it?”
“I’ll show you.”
“I was kinda hoping you’d say that.”
Sam smiled and lifted her gaze to the ceiling. Rows of crystals were strung from one side of the room to the other and as the wind caught them, they tinkled together, sending pinwheels of light over the floor and walls, reminding her of the Chizan cave.
“The formal dining room is in the next room. There’s an elevator leading from the kitchen to it. I don’t use the room much. Too formal, but sometimes I have to entertain dignitaries. They don’t like to sit on rugs or cushions. You know how humans can be.”
“Yes, feegling impossible, just like cats.”
Laughing, they climbed to the next floor.
“This is the guest level,” John said, pushing open one of five doors leading off the landing.
Sam saw a two-roomed apartment with felinus décor and the far wall opened out onto a sun deck. A computer dispenser sat in an alcove.
“Do you get many visitors?”
“The Circle, maybe twice a year.”
“The Circle?”
“Lenar, Kareena, Taren and Alesiar.”
“Why do you call them the Circle?”
John smiled and stroked her cheek. “Because.”
“That means I’ll find out soon enough.” Sam frowned.
“Clever kitten.”
“If I was a clever kitten, I’d smack you and stop you annoying me once and for all.”
John’s grin deepened. “Do I annoy you?”
“Yes, Jo.”
“You want to call me that? Pete I can understand—he’s an Aussie, they like to shorten names. But you’re my wife, it isn’t proper for you to do so.”
Sam couldn’t believe her ears. Since when was John-Kuno worried about proper? Maybe he’d been contaminated by the Chizan courtiers. Time for him to get back to earth—literally. “You forget, Jo, I’m Australian, too.”
“You were.”
“Gidday mate.”
John rolled his eyes. “Can’t break you of the habit, then?”
“No, Jo-Jo!”
Double, bloody feegling hell!
They climbed to the last level and at the landing, Sam halted before a semi-circular room. The far wall was painted with a peacock-feather design, the light catching the bronze and gold and cobalt blue making the wall shimmer.
“Oh my!”
“Amazing, isn’t it?” John asked. “Sandokan is—”
“Sandokan? The Sandokan Santoirini?”
“Mm. Why?”
“You know Sandokan?”
“Sandi, yeah, why?”
“He’s my absolute inspiration.” She glanced at John in mock disgust. “Sandi, yeah, why?” she mimicked. “He’s just the most famous painter this century. Don’t you realize?” She strode up to the wall and ran her fingers over the painting.
“Sandi and Pete are regular visitors,” John said.
“The guy in the spaceport? That’s Pete Connor? The galactic cluster award chef? Oh my!” Sam’s mind reeled, making connections and she put a hand to her temple. John was at her side immediately supporting. “Stop fussing over me, Kuno. All this is a shock. I’m not an invalid and if you start treating me like one, I’ll bite you.”
He growled. “Promise?”
Sam rolled her eyes. “I can’t claw you, or bite you, because that’s fun to you. Feegle it, what can I do to you to punish you?”
His look was her answer. What she had been doing to him recently. Ignoring me, denying me convergence. His thought touched hers, before it was suppressed.
“I wouldn’t deny you anything to punish, Kuno.” She touched his wrist. “It’s just that…”
He lifted a strand of hair from her face and smoothed it down behind her ears. The action was at once intimate and utterly possessive and erotic.
Taking her hand, he tugged her to the full-length window and slid part of it aside. He led her out onto a wide balcony overlooking the levels and patio below.
Beyond the home lay the ocean, all the way to the horizon. Azure sky met azure sea. Sam tasted the salt on her lips and the cool breeze caressed her skin.
“The view is spectacular.”
“Yes,” John said, looking at her. “It is.”
“Not me, you idiot. This!” Sam waved her hand indicating the vista.
“I’ve got a surprise for you.”
“This isn’t?”
Laughing, he put a hand to the small of her back and ushered her across the balcony to a side door. He slid the glass aside and guided her ahead of him.
Sam halted, staring. The room, like the rest of the condo, was made of plasti-screen, some transparent, others opaque. An easel at the far wall stood beside a low table. Against the wall wide shelves contained artist’s paraphernalia: paper, canvases, crayons, paints, brushes.
“This is your studio. If there’s anything you need, you can get it in the shop in town. There’s a community of artists here in Broome, not to mention renowned galleries.” He paused, smiling. “My own office is at the other end of the balcony. You need your space, as I, to work.”
“Isn’t your office the sea? I mean the pearl farm?”
“Yes. But I’m still a Director of Starwatch, so I have to keep my feet dry sometimes.”
“Yes.” She studied him doubtfu
lly.
John stroked her cheek. “Even if GTC is cowed—for the moment—they’ll start up, again, sooner or later, or someone else will.”
“Cynic.”
“Realist.” He grinned. “And speaking of that, I think it’s time I extended the house, at least by one room.”
“Extend? What for?” In answer, John ran a finger over her stomach. “Oh, right,” Sam said. “But not just one room, Kuno.”
“Oh, you planning on having more than one child?” He tried not to smile, but his eyes gave him away.
“I was an only child. I’d never inflict that kind of loneliness on any son or daughter of mine.”
“Good. A felinus needs at least one brother or sister confidant…” He paused, his sorrow palpable.
She stroked his wrist. “John-Kuno, you have me as confidant, and the Circle.”
“Yes.”
“Ah, now I begin to understand about the Circle. Am I included in it?”
“Human-mine!” John said. “You were, the moment they knew I was meeting you that first time.”
“Had it all planned, did you? Seduce the human, feegle her into submission? I didn’t stand a chance.” She laughed, to take the bite from her words.
John raised a brow. “You can bite me if you want.”
“Stop reading my mind.”
“Read mine instead, Sammi! Then you’ll know exactly what I want to do here and now, and biting is not at the top of my list.”
“What is?” she asked, in all innocence.
John grinned. “You’ll have to wait until we’re alone.”
Going downstairs, they found Karev searching every room with a hand-held device, similar in appearance to a tennis racquet.
“San-Duran, I’m just ensuring there are no listening devices, or anything to breach your security.”
“Fine,” John said.
“And I insist you keep the screens activated.”
“I generally do, to discourage the curious and to protect the oysters, especially during cyclone season. Things get interesting if I don’t. The whole place bobs about like a cork.”
Sam groaned, as her insides churned.
“Sorry, kitten. I’ll make sure it’s stationary from now on.” His gaze slipped to her stomach.
StarlightComplete Page 34
