Tarasch Read online

  “Thank you, Astrogator,” Nick replied and hung up the handset before he stepped across the boundary between station and spaceship. The moment he was aboard, he turned to the nearest console and jacked in, pulsing his net ID to the ship’s AI.

  “Command and control authority granted, Captain Steele,” stated the mellow baritone of the AI. The shipnet came to life in his head, and Nick immersed himself in it immediately. There was no better way to get a feel for a new ship than by its net.

  The ship might look like the rest on the outside, but each was a unique environment as far as the insides went. They had to be, because the ship reflected its Gator, and the Gator was human. The Astrogator-AI melding when the ship first came online set the pattern for that ship permanently. So Nick was, in a sense, exploring the architecture of Cai’s mind, and he was liking what he was seeing.

  Cai was deft, analytical, clean and organized. The AI reflected that quite obviously. The root structures made sense at a deep level. There was little redundancy, but there was a dense network of crossover as data was freely shared between the systems that needed it.

  Nick had no trouble establishing himself. It felt, strangely, like coming home. He’d never in his wildest dreams imagined a fit so perfect as the one he had with Laughing Owl’s net. Of course, his wildest dreams were generally more geared toward doing physical things to Cai rather than networking with him. He came out of the shipnet after what felt like forever and realized that he was still standing in the airlock barely a foot inside his ship. He unplugged, blinked to reorient himself and didn’t even glance back as he strode deeper into his new domain.

  * * * *

  Cai tracked Nick’s foray into the shipnet effortlessly, almost automatically. The captain had done nothing unexpected, nothing untoward, and yet, his establishment of place in the net felt almost like a violation. He had to resist undoing all of Nick’s work. Instead, he studied the carefully constructed command interface. It worked. More than worked, it melded seamlessly into Cai’s net structure like it was meant to be there.

  He turned his attention back to his sensors as the captain left the airlock. He followed Steele down the long corridor, flipping swiftly from sensor to sensor. Steele turned outward from the starboard corridor and, ignoring the lift, jogged up the steps to the upper deck where the crew quarters were located. He turned again and pulsed his ID at the door that separated Officer’s Row from the enlisted crew spaces. Cai permitted the door to open and skipped ahead of the man so he could watch Steele walk toward him again.

  He wondered if his behavior was bordering on obsessive, but what else was there to do? The captain was the first member of the crew to arrive. Cai heartily approved of that, but it also excused his behavior, at least in his own mind. He doubted Steele was even aware that he was tracking his every movement. The captain found his quarters without any difficultly. Cai didn’t even wait for the ID pulse this time but opened the door as Steele approached. Not that he had to pay attention to a door to enable it to open, he didn’t, the system was automatic. But he could override it as he chose. He was aware, peripherally, of everything that happened in his ship, all the way down to which doors were being opened and by whom.

  The captain’s stride hesitated a moment. A casual observer might not have caught it, but to Cai, the pause was as obvious as a shout. Steele glanced up at the ceiling, eyes tracking from left to right as if he was searching for something. Without picking up a handset, he said, “Thank you, Astrogator,” and walked through the open door.

  Cai broke the connection with a gasp, leaving the captain to explore his quarters in privacy. Steele hadn’t sounded upset, but Cai wondered if he’d done wrong. Have I violated Steele’s rights by my close observation? Would the Guild get involved? It was rumored that the Guild kept an especially close eye on new Gators. Were they monitoring me even now? How would I know?

  He whirled away from his console and snatched up the standard dose of raw Synde. He chugged it down and entered his Chamber. He wouldn’t need any of his six for this; all he intended was a full diagnostic scan.

  He seated himself in his chair and consciously relaxed himself. The ceiling opened and the crystalline array of the neurologic interface descended. The crystal in Cai’s palm mated to the depression in the arm of the chair, completing the linkage, and then, Cai was the ship.

  He felt the warmth of the sun like a continuous patter of rain against his skin. Photons are nice, he thought errantly as he took a few minutes just to be.

  Starting at the bow and working back, Cai proceeded to check every circuit, every sensor, every wire, looking for things that should not be there, looking for the monitoring equipment that had to be there. It kept his mind from entertaining fantasies of the pleasures he wanted to share with his damnably handsome captain.

  * * * *

  Nick hid a smile as he entered his quarters, just in case Cai was still watching. He’d thought he’d sensed the Astrogator’s presence following him, like a hint of motion seen out of the corner of one’s eye. That presence had vanished the moment he’d spoken, lending credence to his belief. Of course, it could have all just been his imagination, which was why he hadn’t actually called Cai via the shipnet or a handset. But somehow, he didn’t think so. He was the only other person aboard, so it was reasonable to assume that Cai’d be interested. Astrogator solitude notwithstanding, he was human, and therefore, it wasn’t unreasonable to think he might be lonely.

  Somewhat convinced that he was now alone, he surveyed his new home. The room he stood in was set up as an office or study, with a full console to one side, a faux-wood desk and several office chairs. The next room was also semi-public, a living room perhaps, with a comfortable couch, reclining chair, a bookcase and a holotank. Nick moved on and found the bedroom next. The bed was large—double size at least. The dresser and nightstands were of the same polished faux-oak as the rest of the furnishings.

  Nick was impressed. For a small ship, he was granted a lot of space. The only quarters that would be larger than this were the Astrogator’s, but that was standard since the Gator couldn’t ever leave his ship. He set his duffel on the foot of the bed and went looking for the rest of his belongings. He found them in the luxurious walk-in closet, three trunks, neatly stacked.

  Their mission briefing wasn’t scheduled until seventeen hundred hours, and it was barely noon. He had arrived early on purpose, but not to unpack. Once he’d verified that his belonging were aboard, he left his quarters and headed aft, for a particular corridor that should be located behind the bridge.

  Chapter Three: Touring the Ship

  Cai exited the Chamber nonplussed. His search had been singularly unsuccessful. There wasn’t so much as a stray piece of wiring anywhere. He absently wolfed down some sliced fruit one of his six had placed on a platter. Chambering used a lot of energy. He had to eat or his blood sugar would drop to fatally low levels.

  The fruit didn’t really satisfy, and he’d just stood up to head to the kitchen when Captain Steele rang his doorbell. Cai knew it was him without even checking; he was the only other person aboard, after all. He hesitated, not sure he was ready to face the man then turned and faced the door as he opened it.

  A moment later, the handsome captain stepped into his private quarters. The man’s grey eyes swept over the outer chamber and came to rest on Cai. He stepped forward and saluted. “Captain Nicholas Steele, reporting for duty with your approval, Astrogator Cai.”

  Cai blinked, then he remembered what he’d been taught. Ship’s officers were required to introduce themselves to him. It reflected well on Captain Steele that he did this so soon after boarding. “Thank you, Captain. I welcome you as the Captain of Laughing Owl and am very pleased to meet you.”

  Steele relaxed a little, and it was only then that Cai realized he wasn’t holding a shield against the man, and yet, the captain’s thoughts weren’t pressing themselves against his mind. This was highly unusual. Humans generally
broadcast every stray thought and emotion they had, which normally forced Cai to double shield—one shield to keep his own thoughts out of others’ heads and a second shield to keep others’ thoughts out of his own head.

  His chambers had shielding built into the very walls so that Cai didn’t have to exhaust himself by holding shields while he was in here, and fresh out of the Chamber, it hadn’t occurred to him to shield when Steele rang. The captain was standing a dozen feet away, no more, and yet, Cai sensed nothing of what the man was thinking. Scrambling for something to say, he lamely added, “You’re here rather early.”

  “I was planning to tour the ship. As captain, I need to know...everything.”

  Cai noticed that Steele wasn’t asking. He approved. Captains were supposed to command, not ask permission for everything they did. Courtesy to the Astrogator didn’t at all mean that the captain wasn’t in charge. Cai knew that, in extremis, he could override Steele’s commands, but he would have to be able to justify that action to both admiralty and the Guild. Steele doubtless knew that also.

  It was best for the captain and the Astrogator to establish a working relationship, but personalities didn’t always mesh. Cai suspected that wouldn’t be the case here, given the way Steele had merged into the shipnet like he was meant to be there. He really thought the biggest problem they’d have to overcome was his intense physical attraction to the man. Even now, even knowing better, Cai found himself imagining Steele undressing him, pushing him down over the arm of the couch and taking him.

  “That’s a good plan,” he finally managed to say. “The entire ship is open to you, of course.”

  * * * *

  The years had done Cai good, Nick decided. The man was still tall and slender, but he no longer looked unfinished. His tousled platinum blond hair framed an elfin face dominated by a too-large pair of intensely blue eyes. It was the adult version of the face that haunted his dreams. It was the improved version of that face—the Gator had been a cute kid, but he’d grown into a hot man. To say that he was interested would be an understatement. But he was patient. Seducing an Astrogator, a creature known for a fanatic desire for privacy, would be a long-term project. He wasn’t interested in a one-night fling, oh no, he wanted a partnership.

  Nick cocked his head, ignoring the bulge in Cai’s pants, proof, though it was, that the attraction was mutual. “Would you care to accompany me?” He silently urged Cai to agree. He wanted to spend more time with the Astrogator and a tour of the ship was the perfect excuse for that.

  “I…I shouldn’t,” Cai began then shrugged and peeled himself off the wall. “Oh, why not? We’re the only ones aboard.”

  “You don’t have to shield against me if you don’t want to,” Nick offered. “I have nothing to hide.”

  “Captain, you have a natural shield.” Cai’s smile was warmer than it needed to be, not that Nick minded. “That’s unusual and…refreshing. I don’t have to work to keep you out of my mind.”

  “I had no idea,” he said, honestly surprised. Nick wanted to smack himself upside the head. How could he have forgotten basic telepathic theory? Humans were natural broadcasters, so those with psi had to actively work to block the thoughts of others. The fact that he was shielded was interesting. Does it mean that Cai will be receptive to my advances? He certainly hoped so.

  It took an effort to force his mind away from what he’d like to do to Cai. He tried, instead, to get to know Cai and to let Cai see what he was like in turn. The Gator did seem to warm to him as their tour progressed. They started on the main deck at the bow and the off-duty lounge there and worked their way through the cargo bays, the science labs, medical bay, office spaces, the communication center and the gunnery stations, then the bridge and aft of the Astrogator’s chambers, the engineering spaces. The upper deck was next—crew quarters, rec center, galley, officers’ mess, officers’ quarters. Then, they went down to the lower deck. Here was maintenance, the machinist shop, carpentry shop, weaponry, drone and fighter storage, plus the launch bay.

  They ended back on the main deck in a special place forward of the bridge—the null-gee spot. Every ship with a singularity drive had one; it was a gravitational field balancing issue. Like most ships, Laughing Owl’s null-gee spot was enclosed in a special, spherical chamber. Nick measured the space with his gaze—ten meters across. Not bad. Enough room for some sport.

  He kicked off with a practiced motion. Although there wasn’t any gravity in the chamber, there was air. He drifted to a stop just over halfway to the far wall, turned and looked at Cai. “You coming?”

  Cai leapt into the room as gracefully as a falcon taking to the air, and the breath caught in Nick’s throat as he watched. It took him a split second to realize that Cai was coming straight at him with no way to turn aside. So he set himself as best he could, caught the Gator in his arms and, as they drifted, spinning together, Nick set his lips to Cai’s, tasting their plump, salty softness. Cai’s lips parted beneath his and their tongues brushed each other with gentle swipes.

  Cai broke away, gasping and flushed. “We should not.”

  Nick resisted putting a hand on the bulge in Cai’s pants. “You want this. We want this. Nobody will know…we’re alone, Astrogator. Quite alone.”

  “You make a good point, Captain. But the Guild would know. We should not, however much I might want to. I can’t risk burning out your mind.”

  “You said I was shielded,” Nick pressed. “I trust you.”

  “I…I am flattered that you trust me, but no, we can’t risk it. Your shields can’t hold against my strength.”

  “We’re touching, Cai. Are you breaking through my shields?” Nick hoped he was, then he’d know for certain just how much Nick desired him.

  “No, but I am shielding, too,” Cai told him, and the Astrogator was pushing away, his expression set.

  With regret, Nick accepted it. He should have known better, shouldn’t have allowed his lust to take control and usurp his plans for a patient approach. They left the null-gee chamber in silence, walking side by side, but Nick sensed that a wall had built up between them. “Astrogator, my apologies. I didn’t mean to be so forward. I hope you can forgive me and that we can manage to work together.”

  Cai grabbed his shoulder and brought him to a stop. His intense blue eyes studied Nick for a moment. “I took no offense. I want what you want. It just…can’t happen. I can’t risk damaging you. Friends are the most we can be.”

  Nick reached up and covered Cai’s hand with his own. “That will do, Cai.” For now.

  Cai’s smile broke out like the sun from behind a cloud, and Nick was half dazzled by it. Before he could say anything further, Cai said, “Your XO just boarded.”

  “Thank you. Let’s go meet him.” Nick released Cai’s hand and strode swiftly toward the airlock. He was pleased to note Cai’s long legs pacing him easily. Nick wasn’t short at two meters, but Cai was even taller, if not as broad across the shoulder.

  They turned into the starboard corridor with military precision although marching was a lost art, or so Nick’s Academy instructors had often bemoaned. But Cai turned the other way, and when Nick hesitated, looking back at the Gator, Cai made a shooing gesture. “Go greet your XO, Captain. Call me when it’s time for the briefing.”

  Nick nodded, accepting Cai’s decision and guessing at the reasons behind it. It would be highly unusual for an Astrogator to greet crew, even officers, at his airlock. And, Nick suspected, Cai would be physically uncomfortable in the airlock, maybe even ill. The Guild did something to the Gators, when they put them on their ship, to inhibit them from ever leaving. They had good reason for this—the ship would die without its Gator. Nick had heard that some Astrogators, those inclined to push the edge of the permissible, had attempted to leave their ships in a number of ways, and all of them had failed, some quite spectacularly so. A young Gator like Cai, fresh from the Guild Halls, and the conditioning, probably wasn’t ready to face the challe
nge of an airlock with a station attached to the other side, so Nick didn’t press him.

  * * * *

  Cai leaned against the closed and sealed door to his chambers and closed his eyes. He was trembling, sweating and achingly horny. He’d come so close to doing the unthinkable it was frightening. And even now, he still wanted to do it. He wanted Nick Steele with a pure, deep longing that surprised him in its single-minded intensity. That was the reason he’d turned aside from Nick’s course. He wasn’t afraid of his airlock. He was afraid of himself.

  Si-el walked up with that peculiar gliding gait that marked an Astrogator’s adjunct. He’d seen the adjuncts of other Astrogator-elects, in training, and they were the same. Cai assumed it was some side effect of the mind-wipe and resynapsing his adjuncts underwent before they became his. Cai acknowledged the adjunct’s presence silently. Si-el held out a glass of some beverage so Cai accepted it and sipped.

  His six adjuncts served many functions. They were a subset of his own mind and boosted his raw computational power six times over. They were each programmed with additional functions, such as navigation, military ops, mathematics, cryptology, things that, as an Astrogator, Cai would find useful. It was like just plugging in a doctoral level of schooling and experience in that particular subject. But beyond their use to him as an Astrogator, the six were also programmed to take care of him. They were doctor, nurse and physical therapist rolled into one package.

  The beverage was Synde-laced iced tea, cool and refreshing. The chai tea was made even spicier by the addition of the drug Cai had to consume in order to live. Synde was a manmade drug designed to defeat a manmade problem, namely that organic nerves were not meant to be paired to inorganic circuitry. Synde bridged the two systems, enabling them to mesh.