“I am yours to the extent my brother is. That is why I came to check with you before–”
“I desire you as a mistress.”
She paused. “This is the price of your support?”
“If you wish.”
There was that oblique response again. “I wish to have your support.”
“I wish to have you without buying you. But others would not understand, so if you wish, I will say I bought you.”
“You know my pirate and Navy experience. Sex is the least of the price I would pay to support my brother.”
“Your love is out of reach. But perhaps not your respect.”
She contemplated him. “How long?”
“While we associate. As in the Navy: term commitment. Romance not necessary. Not to interfere with your departure when the Tyrancy resumes. Not to be secret, once your brother’s purpose is accomplished.”
He wanted to be able to say he had the tyrant’s sister, and have her agreement. But he would keep the secret of her identity while it counted. Spirit had kept a rein on her personal feeling. Now she let it flow. She was flattered that this remarkable man should desire her sexually despite her age, and desire also to have his passion publicly known. She had been long without a man. This one would do; she was attracted to especially talented men, and Khukov was one. It would not be onerous duty. “Then take me, Navy man.”
He smiled. “Not in your present guise.”
She laughed, and stripped off her masculine clothing and the binding around her chest. She stepped into him and embraced him. She kissed him. “From Jupiter: surplus Navy tail,” she said.
“You understand: I support your brother regardless, for he serves my larger purpose. It is not essential that you do this.”
“That does make it easier. But it is not difficult, regardless.”
“Thank you.”
Then they proceeded to an act of passion that would have done a younger couple credit. Khukov’s desire was plainly genuine, and he was indeed the kind of man she preferred: intelligent, powerful, ethical, with a special ability, and, as it turned out, caring.
After the first bout, they cleaned up, and Khukov began giving directives to the Saturn Navy. It would slowly deploy toward Jupiter, but in a manner that did not betray its target. One courier ship would rendezvous with a Jupiter Navy courier for the transfer of liaison personnel, one of which would be an anonymous Hispanic male: Spirit. Then they had another siege of sex. Then they had a good meal. Then more sex, somewhat more drawn out.
“How long since you did it three times in one day?” she asked, impressed.
“Decades. As long as I have been without you.”
It really was flattering, and it was no chore to participate. She realized that she had missed the regular sex of the Navy. “Had I known of your interest, I might have made myself available sooner.”
“You were married, then committed. I was married. We were at different planets. It was not feasible.”
He had desired her when she was with Gerald? He had kept his eye on Hope and his sister a long time!
They spent the night naked in the same bed. She knew this would mean rather constant attention, if not full sex, but she intended to saturate his desire. Indeed, he clasped her as she slept, and in the night she woke to feel him stroking her breast. She let him proceed, lapsing back into sleep. In the morning he slept later than she did; she considered, then stroked him and kissed him, waking him to her interest.
“It is a calculated thing you do,” he murmured. “I appreciate that calculation.”
“Let it never be said that you found the Iron Maiden insufficient.”
“It shall never be said.”
They were together a week. Khukov’s passion was almost indefatigable, though he was not able to consummate it as often as at first. It seemed not to matter; he was satisfied with her closeness and amenability. Between-times they played chess and pool, and discussed works of literature. There was no pretense of love, merely of mutual interest. His passion for her was clearly greater than hers for him, but that was natural to their genders, and it would not have been possible to fool him anyway. Overall, she enjoyed the experience, and made no effort to conceal her pleasure. She felt two decades younger.
“To have the attention of a independent woman whose interest can not be purchased—this is a thing I have long lacked,” he said. “You could be ugly, and it would have appeal. But you are lovely.”
“I can endure this kind of criticism.”
They laughed and continued. Spirit found it pleasant also that he trusted her, though she knew it was because she was trustworthy. She was not catering to him for his power, but because they had made a mutually beneficial deal.
Then it was time for her to catch the shuttle. “It has been nice,” she said.
“It has been paradise.”
“Can the shuttle rendezvous again, in a week?”
He looked at her, surprised. “Oh Iron Maiden, I could love you if I allowed it.”
She smiled and kissed him once more. “Do not allow it. Just hone your passion, lest I waste my time.”
She boarded the shuttle as Sancho. In due course it rendezvoused with the Jupiter shuttle, and that conveyed her to a Jupiter cruiser.
A buxom civilian woman met her at the port. “You will serve my interest, laborer,” she said curtly.
Spirit masked her reaction and followed the woman to her cabin. Then, alone, they flung themselves into each other’s arms, kissing. “Roulette!”
“Spirit!”
“How did you know?”
“Juana told me.”
“How did she know? This is supposed to be secret.”
“Not from Emerald. She has been in touch with Saturn throughout, and when news of your presence came, she gathered the other women. She’s on duty elsewhere at the moment, but can see you in two weeks.”
“Two weeks is perfect.” Then, at leisure, she explained about Khukov.
“Maybe I could substitute for you,” Rue said teasingly. “I’m sure he’d find me more interesting.”
“He might indeed! But I’m the one he wants, amazingly.”
“Then you will have to give me your brother. He’s the one I want.”
“Hope has another woman now.”
“He always has another woman! But I’m a widow, and I want one more crack at him before he dies.”
“Before—?”
“Come on, Spirit. If the assassins don’t get him, the kidneys will. There’s not all that much time.”
Spirit shook her head. “Can’t any secrets be kept?”
“Not from wives and lovers. No outsiders know.”
“All right. If the chance comes, you get him for a while. Now we need to organize.”
“His current woman. I have seen her on holo. She’s ugly. What’s her secret?”
“She’s a mime. She uses masks and signals to emulate other women. She is very good.”
“She couldn’t fool him.”
“She comes close enough to satisfy him. She emulated Juana at age seventeen, and she can do others.”
“Juana at seventeen.” Rue pondered that a moment. “Sexually too?”
“Yes.”
Rue was intrigued. “Could she do me?”
“I’m sure she could—and will, in due course.”
“As I am now?”
“Why not? You remain a sight to stir the male passion.”
Rue glanced down at her full figure. “We’ll see.”
“I presume Emerald retains real Navy power?”
“Potential power. With her husband dead, the edge is gone, but he taught her much. But any use of it could alert Tocsin’s men, and they are not incompetent.”
“Understood. The strike must be properly timed, and it must be effective. There will be no second chance.”
“Meanwhile, we can organize. Do we have a code name?”
Spirit pondered momentarily. “The Affair.”
; “Mine, yours, and ours.” Roulette smiled. “I must return to the Belt so as not to rouse suspicion. But Juana will take over.”
“Juana is here?”
“Unofficially. Jupe retirees have staff privileges.”
“Staff privileges,” Spirit repeated, thinking of Shelia.
Juana was indeed grandmotherly, half again as solid as she had been in youth, smiling and pleasant. “He’s coming back?” she asked.
“Yes. With things as they are on Jupiter, we have to act.”
“What about Megan?”
That made Spirit pause. “You’re right. If she doesn’t acquiesce, Hope won’t do it. Can we reach her privately?”
“I can, when I return to Jupiter.”
“That will do. She regards you as Hope’s second wife, and herself as the fifth. She will talk with you. Meanwhile, do you still know the people who know the people?”
“Enough of them. But the wider this gets, the harder it will be to keep it secret.”
“Emerald will have to decide who is notified when.”
“She can’t be here personally yet.”
“I know. In a week I must return for Saturn liaison. Then–”
“You have a Saturn man!” Juana exclaimed.
“You want details?”
“I never really liked doing it, but I love hearing about it. Is he a known figure?”
“Chairman Khukov. He’s a widower now.”
Juana whistled. “You started at the top! How did you ever land him?”
“He desired me. I had not realized. I found it flattering.”
“He’s like Hope, isn’t he?”
Spirit paused. “How do you mean that?”
Juana blushed. “Not that way! I mean, he has the talent to read people. To move them.”
Their dialogue continued, as Spirit shared the details of her affair. But now she wondered: Khukov’s interest in her was understandable, in retrospect, because she was the sister of a man like himself and had kept herself in physical shape. But she had returned his interest, and truly enjoyed their ardently sexual week. She had thought it was because she respected him, and was flattered by the intense desire of so prominent a man, and she did miss the lost regularity of sex. Could it be, at least in part, because he was a surrogate for her brother? She had never forgotten her lone liaison with Hope, when she was twelve, and she still dreamed of it on occasion. She still loved him in more than a sisterly way. If there were some heaven where a woman could marry any man she chose, she would marry him. That was her abiding secret, even from herself, much of the time. She had been the first girl to fall into his orbit, and not one of them had ever fallen out of it.
She concluded that it was true. She decided to tell Khukov, to be fair to him. She suspected it wouldn’t matter to him, but it was a qualification to her side of the relationship.
The week went swiftly, and then she took the return shuttle to the Saturn ship. She broached the matter as soon as she was alone with Khukov: “In fairness, I must say–”
“If my essential likeness to your brother inspires your return passion, I welcome it.”
So he had known. “Still, that is an illicit association. My licit ones–”
“One is dead, the other jailed.”
Her jaw dropped. “You know?”
“He is a fine man, and now also a widower. When you return to Jupiter, you will marry him, and raise many eyebrows. But for the moment you are mine.”
“For the moment,” she agreed, bemused.
Their association was less intense than before, but as meaningful. “I still find it hard to appreciate why you should wish to have me instead of a fresher face and body,” she said after a satisfying bout.
“Aside from whatever else, you have a wealth of experience that is similar to my own. You are not merely a pretty face.” He stroked the scars on her countenance. “If pirates came after me, would you burn yourself to stop them?”
“Yes.”
“Because you fear what else would come to power in my absence!” he said, laughing as he read her.
“We agreed: no love,” she reminded him.
“But there could have been, in other circumstance.”
“In other circumstance.”
Meanwhile the Saturn Navy maneuvered seemingly routinely, coincidentally drawing nearer to Jupiter. If the Tyrant asked, it would answer.
“It is a lot of trust you extend, to one who could make real mischief for you if he did not serve your interest,” she remarked.
“It is my business to know whom to trust. If Hope Hubris recovers Jupiter he will no longer serve me, but will still serve the Dream.”
“That is true.” She glanced at him. “May I initiate?”
He read her with that uncanny accuracy. “You are twelve.”
She nodded, embarrassed. She had in the course of their more candid dialogues told him details of her other men, and he had understood more than she told.
“A privilege.” He feigned sleep. “Helse!” he said, dreaming. “Don’t go!” He caught hold of her. She struggled weakly to free herself, then let him draw her in. He tried to kiss her. She turned her face aside, then turned it back and met him squarely. “But I killed you!”
“Do it,” she said.
“I love you.”
“And I love you.” Fifty years, and it remained so clear.
He brought her in close to him, and she felt his hard member. She could draw away, even now, for he would not force her. Instead she found his hand and carried it to her breast. She was Helse, giving him comfort. He kissed her breast, and she arched, responding. Then he mounted her, and she spread her legs, lifting her knees. His member found the place, and nudged inside, slowly, distending the tightness, like a ship docking in a bubble tube. “Helse!” and his pulsing joy erupted.
“Oh Hope, my love!” she breathed, her joy enclosing his, her pulses extending his. The rapture seemed to continue for a brief forever.
Then they fell apart, and she left him sleeping, to clean up by herself. He remained for a time in his dream.
Later, he commented. “How can love be wrong?”
“I fear it can be.”
“Speaking for myself: I think I have never had a more fulfilling experience.”
“I think Hope and Helse loved with a love that was more than love,” she agreed.
“They did what we can not: they spoke of love.”
“What we can not.”
“Nevertheless, I think I have had of you what you have given no other man.”
“Except the first.” He shook his head. “You truly are the Iron Maiden.”
“We agreed,” she reminded him again.
“Yet if our circumstances should ever change–”
“Then, perhaps,” she agreed. It was an oblique, conditional betrothal.
The following week Spirit met with Emerald. Here, too there were fond memories. “That time you flashed your cleft at my husband,” Spirit said, laughing.
“Black magic,” Emerald agreed.
They kissed each other. Then they got down to business. They knew that no overt moves could be made, but there were some useful covert ones. They devised a system of bottlenecks that would inhibit or prevent certain commands from being carried out efficiently, and the blame would fall on Tocsin’s appointees. Only when Hope assumed power, and restored Emerald to command, would full efficiency return. This ploy would work for only a few hours, but that might be sufficient.
Then things went wrong on Planet Mercury. Suddenly Hope Hubris was on the Interplanetary News. He was, it seemed, in a South Mercury prison cell, naked and in bad condition. Somehow someone had bootlegged the holo tape out from under the nose of the controlled press.
Then the face of Spirit came on: Forta, emulating her with uncanny precision. “Oh, Hope!” she exclaimed. “I knew it! They’ve humiliated you! They’ve stripped you naked!”
How had this happened? Later Spirit learned that Forta had been abducted, b
ut that Hope had managed to exchange places with her, emulating her while she emulated him and escaped. Then she had become Spirit and made a scene calculated to blow the lid off the tight little dictatorship that was the South Mercury government. They had reversed the ploy with a vengeance.
The Iron Maiden Page 37
