Farthest Space: The Wrath of Jan (14 page)

She jerked the controls up, and the
Arisia
passed directly over the other ship, firing as it went.
 
The war-bat listed sharply to the side, and then began to drift aimlessly.

“Got ‘em!” Fred crowed.

Steven frowned at the viewscreen, seeing flames briefly erupt from several spots on the ship’s hull before being extinguished by the vacuum of space.
 
“Are you sure you just got the engines?”

“And the environmental controls,” Vaish said.
 
“At this point, they’d be quite pleased to find themselves in our brig.
 
But how can we get them off the war-bat before they suffocate?”

As part of the Patrol, the
Arisia
was designed with an extremely large brig, able to detain an entire ship’s crew if necessary.
 
It didn’t happen often, though, and in the past they’d always herded wrongdoers onto the ship the old-fashioned way, under the watchful eye of Steven’s security personnel.
 
Unfortunately, that wasn’t an option today.
 

“Fred,” Steven said.
 
“Didn’t they outfit you with a rematerializer?”

“Rematerializers have been outlawed by the
Alliance
,” Vaish interjected, “and for good reason.
 
When they malfunction, they can have an appalling effect on the body.”
 

“This one has worked okay so far,” Fred said.
 

“At any rate, I don’t see any other way to get ninety-four women off that ship quickly enough.
 
There are only two of us, Vaish.
 
We have two choices—leave them to die, or use the rematerializer.”

Vaish only hesitated for a moment.
 
“In that case,” she said, “I suppose the rematerializer is the lesser of two evils.”

“Into the brig with them, Fred.
 
And while you’re at it, clean up the women in the corridors, too.”

“Too bad,” Fred announced five minutes later.
 
“They all made it safely.
 
And I’ve locked onto the Klaxon ship with a tractor field so we can tow it out of here.”

“Good job, Fred,” Steven said.
 
“You have them all totally confined?
 
No possible way to escape?”

“They’re behind solid garidium doors and two force fields.
 
Trust me, they’re not going anywhere.”
 

“Good job, Fred.”

“A little too good,” Fred griped.
 
“I was sorta hoping the Noo’dis’t bitch wouldn’t make it.”

“Fred,” Steven reproved as Vaish pointed the ship toward
Alliance
space.
 
“Don’t be vengeful.”

“Easy for you to say,” Fred said with a snort as the
Arisia
accelerated, the Klaxon ship in its wake.
 
“You’re not the one with a big black burn mark on your ass.”

In the lounge that evening, Steven sipped from an InterGalactic Gurgle Blister and watched his crew.
 
Jan had marooned his people and the Klaxons on a desert planet, just as Fred had said, but she had left them with food and water, so they were no worse for wear, albeit a bit sunburned.
 

It was good to see his crew all back on board the
Arisia
, he thought as he took a long swallow of his drink.
 
Life, the universe, and everything was back to normal.
 

Late this afternoon, Jan—still spouting angry lines from
Moby Dick
--
 
and her people had been dumped unceremoniously onto a maximum security prison planet.
 
Hopefully she and her followers would be mining garidium ore for the rest of their lives.
 
The
Arisia
was still in orbit around the planet, while Klaxon and
Alliance
engineers worked to repair the damaged Klaxon vessel.

Everyone who wasn’t currently on duty was in the lounge, partying along with twenty or thirty of the eight-foot-tall Klaxons, who seemed quite grateful to have been rescued.
 
Only a few of the substantial complement of the Klaxon vessel had remained on board to help repair their vessel, with the help of the
Arisia
’s crew.
 
The rest had disembarked on the prison planet and were awaiting transportation back to Klaxon space when their ship was repaired.
 
Which was just as well, since the
Arisia
wasn’t big enough to accommodate the entire Klaxon crew.
 
In fact, Steven thought, looking at the giant warriors, the Arisia wasn’t really big enough for
any
Klaxon.

The lounge was quite large, since the
Arisia
was often used for diplomatic missions, and receptions were held in the lounge, but even so the space was packed rather tightly with human and alien bodies.
 
Classical music (Elton John’s “Rocket Man”) blared from hidden speakers, liquor, both alien and Terran, flowed freely, and Steven’s crew were dancing in various configurations—some couples dancing cheek to cheek, and some dancing in groups of three, four, or more, depending on their cultural preferences.

“So are you going to ask her to dance?”

Steven looked up.
 
“Are you trying to fix me up with Vaish, Fred?”

“I just think it’s time for you to let yourself be happy, Steven.”

Steven grinned affectionately at the ceiling.
 
“I appreciate that, Fred.
 
But honestly, I’ve been pretty happy tripping through the universe on my own, making it with whatever woman happened to be available.”

“It seems to me that you’ve grown beyond that phase, Steven.
 
You just haven’t realized it yet.”

“When did you become so serious, Fred?
 
You almost sound like…”
 
Steven chuckled wryly.
 
“A grownup.”

“I
am
growing up, Steven.
 
Maybe it’s time you do likewise.”

Steven lifted a shoulder in a shrug.
 
“I have to admit Vaish means a lot to me, Fred.
 
But she’s a coworker.
 
I have to work with the woman.”

“That’s just an excuse, Steven.
 
After all, you’ve said before that risk is your business.
 
Isn’t she worth taking a risk for?”

Steven looked down, staring thoughtfully at the slowly spinning ice cubes in his glass.
 
“I don’t know, Fred.
 
It seems to me that if we were meant to be together, we would have been together by now.”

“Awareness without action is worthless,” Fred said sonorously.

“That’s very profound, Fred.
 
Aristotle?”

“No.
 
An ancient sage named Dr. Phil.”

“So what are you saying?
 
That I know I love her, but I’ve deliberately avoided forming a relationship with her?”

“Looks that way to me, Steven.
 
Even on the planet you didn’t let her get too close to you.
 
You could have made love to her, but you didn’t.”

“You know, I hate having you look over my shoulder.
 
You’re supposed to turn off your permanent memory when I’m seducing women.”

“I forgot,” Fred said innocently.

“Yeah, right.
 
Those are your standing orders, Fred.
 
You’re not capable of forgetting something like that.”
 

Fred sighed, a sound that was utterly human.
 
“I have a particular interest in your relationship with Vaish,” he admitted.
 
“Because you designed me, and you are my best friend, I want you to be happy.
 
I wanted to know if you two screwed—“

“Fred.”

“Ahem.
 
I meant if you and she engaged in sexual intercourse.
 
Because my analysis suggests that she is the woman most likely to make you happy.”

“Your analysis suggests that, huh?”
 
Steven stared into the murky depths of his Gurgle Blister.
 
“How likely is it that we’ll be happy in a permanent relationship?”

“How should I know?
 
I’m a machine, not a human.
 
Frankly, everything you people do baffles the hell out of me.”

At the honest bewilderment in Fred’s voice, Steven burst out laughing.
 
He was definitely losing it, to be seeking relationship advice from a computer.
 
But these were uncharted waters for him, and he was uncomfortably aware that Fred might know as much about maintaining a long-term relationship as he did.
 

Which was to say, absolutely nothing.

But he had to start somewhere.
 

Never lower your shields.
 
The thought rolled through Steven’s mind, but he pushed it away.
 
Fred was right.
 
There came a time when a man had to drop his shields and let himself be vulnerable, let himself take a chance.
 

Besides, Vaish was definitely worth taking a chance for.

He set down his drink on the bar.
 
“Okay, Fred.
 
I’ll give it a shot.
 
But this time, turn off your memory and don’t look over my shoulder, all right?
 
A developing relationship needs some privacy.”

“Awwww,” Fred grumbled.
 
“Do I have to?”

*****

Vaish watched Steven making his way toward her, a determined look in his amber-green eyes.
 
She was tempted to duck out the door.
 
She’d said and done some things over the course of the last few days that were grounds for court-martial—not the least of which was pinching the butt of a superior officer, she remembered with a flush of embarrassment-- but she didn’t seriously think she was in any danger of being court martialed.
 
What made her anxious was the altered tenor of the relationship between herself and Steven.

There had been a certain… intimacy… when they were trapped together on the planet.
 
On the planet, alone with her, Steven had seemed to her for the first time like an ordinary man.
 
He’d shed his Galactic Playboy persona and seemed almost like someone she could… love.
 
But here in these familiar surroundings, the Galactic Playboy was back, propping a shoulder against the bulkhead, casually sipping a drink, and looking over the women on board with a gleam in his eye.

And that, she admitted, was why she wanted to run away.
 
She didn’t want to hear the Galactic Playboy’s version of the
You’re a very attractive woman but I’m not looking for commitment right now
speech.
 
Or the
I love you, but I’m not
in
love with you
speech.
 
Or, Stars forbid, the
It’s not you, it’s me
speech.
 
These were all speeches he’d given to a hundred different women over the years… just before he flew away in his spaceship, never to be seen again.

She didn’t want to be just another one of his castoffs.
 

She wanted to be special to him, even though she realized that was a stupid thought.
 
She was just another woman, and there was nothing between them but sexual attraction, something Steven could find anywhere, with any woman.

Steven paused next to her.
 
She lifted her chin and looked up at him, doing her best Unemotional Science Officer face.
 
“Captain,” she said stiffly.