Worlds Apart (ThreeCon)

by Carmen Webster Buxton

  Tinibu grinned. “We already told Merschachh. He’ll pass it on.”

  On the flyter pad, they found Chio already aboard the flyter, but Qualhuan insisted on piloting it so Chio moved to a back saet next to Tinibuu. As soon as they lifted off, Tinibu and Chio began to argue about where to go.

  “Mickey’s is too noisy,” Chio said. “Let’s go to The Twin Moons.”

  “The drinks are overpriced at The Twin Moons,” Tinibu said.

  “That’s because they pay pretty girls to sit at the tables and drink with the customers. And the food is better,” Chio said. “It’s worth the difference in price.”

  “You’re always hoping the woman will ask you home,” Qualhuan said, joining in the conversation. “It’s never happened, and it never will.”

  “A man can dream, can’t he?” Chio said.

  They went to The Twin Moons. Prax looked around curiously when they went in. He had been in a few bars in Pireaus and other cities on Celadon, although never for very long. This looked very similar. There were servoids rolling around delivering food and drinks, but he had gotten used to that at Rishi’s house where the small household staff relied on servoids to do much of the physical work. The Twin Moons at least had an intelligent being for a bartender. She was using some type of elaborate machine to dispense drinks, but she was definitely human—Terran, Prax corrected himself.

  Qualhuan led the way to a table, and they each found a chair. They ordered food and drinks from the console, although Prax passed on food when he learned it would be synthesized. He would go to the kitchen once he was back at the Trahn estate and see what he could find.

  A few minutes after the food arrived, a young Terran woman strolled over. “Like some company?”

  “Sure,” Chio said. “Have a seat.”

  She sat down next to him and smiled. “My name’s Danitra.”

  Tinibu made the introductions. “I’m Jomo Tinibu.” He nodded around the table at each of them. “That’s Qualhuan jur gonqua, Praxiteles Mercouri, and Joshi Chio.”

  Prax realized he had never heard everyone’s full names before. “Qualhuan, is Jurgonqua your clan name, like mine is Mercouri?”

  Qualhuan rubbed a sturdy thumb on the side of his face and gave a faint whistle through his nose. “We don’t have clans, or clan names. We don’t even have surnames. My full name is Qualhuan jur gonqua, which means ‘One who is forceful in a dangerous situation.’ At formal events, everyone would use my full name, but mostly they just call me ‘One who is forceful’.”

  “I never knew that,” Tinibu said. “So, what does ‘Rurhahn na bhudan’ mean?”

  Qualhuan’s face split in a toothy smile. “One who can impregnate many women.”

  “Really?” Tinibu tilted his head and gave Qualhuan a skeptical look. “Are you having me on?”

  Qualhuan let out a loud, shrill whistle. “Ask him sometime.”

  Prax noticed that Danitra looked peeved. “Are you from Subidar?” he asked her.

  She smiled gratefully. “Yes. How about you all? Where’s everybody from?”

  It turned out that she and Chio were the only native Subidarans. Qualhuan was from Milora, and Tinibu was, like Prax, from a colony world. If Chio had expected that having something in common would make Danitra more interested in him, his hopes were dashed. She was very careful to talk to each of them equally. She also pointed out whenever anyone’s drink ran low.

  Qualhuan watched as Prax drank a beaker of Shuratanian ale. “Do your people have ale back on Celadon, Prax?”

  “Not ale,” Prax said, “although I drank it in the cities. The Elliniká make a kind of wine from the berries of a vine that grows wild on the plains.”

  “How long have you worked here?” Chio asked Danitra.

  “Three years,” she said. “It’s not a bad job. It’s not hard work and the manager is good about reminding the customers that we’re not whores.” She smiled at Prax. “Would you like another drink?”

  Prax shook his head. Danitra reached over to move his empty glass to the center of the table where a disk inset into the surface lowered it into a holding bin for the servoids to clear later. Her hand brushed against his as she did this and lingered just a fraction of a second. She smiled again.

  Prax flushed and pulled his hand away.

  Tinibu smiled into his glass of whiskey. Chio looked sulky, and Qualhuan seemed thoughtful.

  “Ever had any Miloran whiskey?” Qualhuan asked Prax.

  “No. What is it made from?”

  “It’s better not to ask,” Qualhuan said. “You’re finished with your drink, and so am I. Why don’t we both have a glass of my kind of whiskey?”

  Danitra pressed some keys on the small console set into the tabletop. In a few minutes, a servoid rolled up with two glasses of green liquid.

  Danitra set one in front of Qualhuan and one in front of Prax. Qualhuan took a sip of his right away.

  Prax stared down at the smoky green whiskey and sniffed. The odor reminded him of a type of medicinal herb his mother had often used to make a poultice for aches and bruises. “It smells terrible.”

  “You don’t notice it after a few sips,” Qualhuan said. “Try it.”

  Prax took a small sip. It was bitter, with a strong smoky flavor. He let it roll around his mouth a little, swallowed and took another sip.

  “What do you think?” Qualhuan asked him.

  “It’s not too bad,” Prax admitted. “It tastes better than it smells.”

  He and Qualhuan drank slowly but steadily.

  The Miloran watched Prax with interest.

  “So tell me, Prax,” Qualhuan said, “what do the Elliniká put in their wine beside berries?”

  “Not that much,” Prax said. “We add other fruit to make it just a little sweeter, and we age it for as much as a year before we drink it.”

  “And it’s strong after that?”

  Prax sipped his whiskey. “I suppose so. The people in the cities like it. We use it for trade because they value it. The berries won’t grow anywhere except out on the plains, so they have to come to us to get the wine.”

  “Tell me about your world,” Danitra said to Prax. “What’s it like?”

  “It’s empty compared to Subidar,” Prax said, feeling loquacious. “The cities aren’t so big. My people live on the plains, following the herds. We don’t shut ourselves up in boxes with no air.”

  “He means houses,” Tinibu said, smiling. “The man’s got a thing about walls.”

  Danitra smiled at Prax. Prax was aware of her interest, but did his best to ignore it. He studied his friends instead. Chio kept scanning the room and noting any women who looked as if they might be unattached. Tinibu seemed lost in his own thoughts, while Qualhuan stared at Prax.

  “Is anything wrong?” Prax asked the Miloran.

  Qualhuan grinned. “Nope. I just never saw a Terran hold his whiskey like you do, especially on an empty stomach.”

  Prax took another sip and then shrugged. “It’s not so strong.”

  Qualhuan leaned over and whispered something to Tinibu. The big Terran looked at Prax and shook his head. Qualhuan said something that sounded like, “If you leave your crop in the field, you can’t complain if someone else harvests it.”

  “What?” Prax asked, confused. “Are you talking about farming?”

  Qualhuan laughed and spoke in a normal voice. “In a way. How about another glass of whiskey, Prax?”

  “I don’t think I have enough money.” Prax was learning about money, but it was a difficult concept for an Elliniká to grasp. The concept of credit was even harder, and he was reluctant to venture into that territory for a few drinks.

  “Don’t worry about that,” Qualhuan said. “This one’s my treat.” He nodded to Danitra, who asked what everyone else wanted and then punched in another order on the
console.

  When the servoid rolled up, Danitra served the drinks. When she handed Prax the new glass of green liquid, her fingers brushed his again. He didn’t pull away this time.

  They drank and talked a good while longer. Chio was morose by the end of the evening and showed a tendency to sit staring into space. Danitra was careful to be friendly with all of them, but it seemed to Prax that she was sending him clear signals.

  “I get off work in a few minutes,” she said eventually, directly to Prax. “What are you doing the rest of the evening?”

  Prax blinked. He was finally beginning to feel the effects of the Miloran whiskey, and all at once it seemed an effort to articulate his thoughts. “What are we doing the rest of the evening?” he asked Tinibu.

  His friend smiled broadly. “We’re giving the lady a lift home if she wants one. And if she wants some company…” He looked at Danitra with a knowing glance, “I’m sure there’s one of us she wouldn’t mind spending some time with, eh, Prax?”

  Danitra flushed and lowered her eyes, but she smiled back. “I’d love a ride home, and some company.”

  Prax said nothing. Sorting out all the implications behind the words seemed like too much trouble, somehow. They paid their bill and waited while Danitra collected her belongings, then walked her to the flyter. She gave Qualhuan an address, and after only a few minutes, they descended toward an apartment building in a residential district. When they landed, Tinibu got out and opened the flyter door. Prax had to get out, also, so that Danitra could exit the flyter without climbing over him.

  “Why don’t you see Danitra to her door, Prax?” Tinibu suggested.

  Arguing was beyond Prax at that point. It was difficult enough to know how to follow the suggestion. He nodded. “All right.”

  Tinibu leaned over and spoke to Danitra, who was standing right next to him. “He has to be back at work tomorrow morning.” Tinibu spoke in a low voice, but Prax could still hear him. “We’ll pick him up here tomorrow, real early. All right?”

  She nodded and pointed to the com panel near the lift tube. “I’m in 2270,” she said, and then she turned to Prax and took his hand.

  “It’s this way,” she said, leading him to the lift tube.

  Prax followed, confused. Why had Tinibu said they would pick him up tomorrow when the flyter was here already? He had a sense of watching the scene from a great distance, as if he had lost control of the events of the evening. He couldn’t sort it out, so he followed Danitra. When she opened her front door, Prax stood in the hallway.

  “Come on in,” she said. “I’ll get us a drink or something.”

  Prax stepped inside, and the door closed behind him. “I don’t know if I should have anymore to drink.”

  Danitra smiled. She moved very close to him and put her hands on his shoulders. “That’s all right. I don’t need anything either.” And then she reached up and kissed him.

  Prax felt himself sway. He put his arms out for balance and found that he was holding her. She pressed against him, and Prax had a strange feeling that this was all happening to somebody else. He kissed her back, feeling his will slip away every second that her mouth was on his.

  Danitra pulled away just enough to open the front of his shirt and slide one hand inside. Prax heard a tiny voice in his head telling him that he should stop her. She stroked his side, running her fingernails up and down across his skin, and then she began to unfasten his trousers.

  Prax knew he should stop her. He put his hand around hers to pull it away, but she just laughed. She took that hand and put it inside her blouse so that it rested on her breast. Prax stopped listening to the little voice.

  Chapter Ten

  Prax awoke suddenly and looked around. He had no idea where he was.

  Almost square, this room was larger than his room in the Security wing and had more furniture. Two large windows let in a lot of light. The view told him he was somewhere in the city, quite high up from the look of it. He tried to recall the details of the night before. He remembered going to The Twin Moons. He remembered drinking with Qualhuan and Chio and Tinibu. He had just remembered that there was a woman with them when a door opened, and a dark-haired woman in a red robe walked in carrying a tray.

  “Good morning,” she said. “You don’t have time for much—your friend is on his way—but I made some tea.”

  Speechless, Prax just sat there. “Thank you,” he finally said.

  “Here.” She passed him a cup of steaming hot tea.

  Prax pulled the bedclothes over his lap and took the cup.

  The woman sat on the edge of the bed and watched him. “Last night was nice. No one ever called me ‘lady,’ like that before—like I was somebody important.”

  Prax’s head reeled. If he had called her lady when she clearly wasn’t the head of a clan, then it must mean something, but he was too confused to sort it out.

  She smiled. “It wasn’t your first time or anything like that, was it?”

  “No.”

  “I didn’t think so. You seemed to know what you were doing.”

  “Thank you,” Prax said again. He didn’t know what else to say.

  “If you want to come back some time, I wouldn’t mind.”

  “I don’t know if I can,” Prax said honestly.

  She got to her feet, not worrying too much about keeping the robe closed. “Well, I’ll write out my com code for you. You’d better get dressed now.”

  Prax put down his cup of tea but didn’t stand up.

  After a moment, she laughed and turned for the door. “All right, I’ll go away, although how you can be so shy after last night, I’ll never know.” She nodded at another door. “The bathroom’s through there.”

  Last night was coming back to Prax in bits and pieces. It wasn’t any worse than what he done in Agnios and Pireaus, but somehow he felt as if he had transgressed against his new world as thoroughly as he had the old one.

  Once he had relieved himself, washed, and dressed, Prax took his cup of tea into the main room. The apartment consisted of only one large room in addition to the bedroom and bathroom, but it was cheerful, and it looked comfortable.

  The woman made inconsequential conversation while Prax drank his tea. After just a few minutes, a beeping noise sounded from a com panel on the wall.

  “That’ll be your friend on the roof,” she said. “Do you want me to take you up in the lift tube?”

  “Thank you,” Prax said, grateful that escape was imminent, “but I can find it by myself.”

  She stood by the door as he started to leave, and he realized she was expecting him to kiss her.

  He leaned over and gently brushed her lips with his own. “Goodbye. And thank you.”

  “It was my pleasure,” she said, a mischievous gleam in her eye. “And I mean that.”

  Prax fled down the hallway. He found the lift tube after a couple of wrong turns, and in a few moments, he arrived on the roof. A Trahn flyter waited, with Tinibu at the controls.

  The big Terran opened the door for Prax. There was no one else inside. “Hop in. We’re going to have to hurry to get back in time.”

  Prax got in and sat down.

  After they were airborne and the course was set, Tinibu looked over at him. “Well, you did pretty well for your first night out on the town.”

  Prax didn’t answer. He had no idea what it would be proper to say. None of the Mercouri had ever known what he had done when he returned from his excursions into Agnios and Pireaus.

  Tinibu grinned at him. “Are you getting all prickly again? I never met anyone as touchy as you are. What’s wrong now?”

  Prax took a deep breath. He put his hands over his face and rubbed his eyes. Why did he feel so bad about what he had done? He hadn’t felt this way on his excursions to the cities on Celadon. “I don’t remember her name.”

>   Tinibu chuckled. “You had rather a lot of whiskey. Her name is Danitra, and she took a shine to you right from the start.”

  “Why?”

  “I expect it’s a least partly because you’re different.” Tinibu gave him a quick sideways glance. “You look different. Out of place, almost. She must meet a lot of men, but I imagine after a while they all seem the same to her. Someone from a place like Celadon would stand out in a bar in Shembor.”

  Prax thought this over. “Do you think she does that often?”

  “What, you mean asking a man to come home with her?” Tinibu shrugged. “I haven’t the faintest idea. She seemed like a nice girl. We wouldn’t have left you alone there if she hadn’t.”

  Prax sighed again and put his head in his hands. “It’s very different here.”

  Tinibu chuckled. “I’m sure it is. I hope you got enough sleep because you’re on duty in just a bit. Do you have a hangover?”

  “What’s a hangover?”

  “Sometimes when people have too much to drink they get sick the next day—headache mostly.”

  “Oh, that. No, I don’t have a hangover.”

  “Good,” Tinibu said, shifting the throttle. “Because we’re here.”

  Prax barely had time to put on a clean uniform. He had been assigned perimeter patrol that morning, but when he reported for duty, Rurhahn told him that there had been a change in the schedule.

  “The boss wants to see you. She’s in her office. You know where that is?”

  Prax nodded. He wondered suddenly if Rishi had found out where he had spent the previous night. It couldn’t have been against the rules or Tinibu and the others wouldn’t have left him there so casually, but still, his conscience pricked at him as if he had done something wrong.

  Resolutely, he put the thought aside and made his way to the office corridor.