Stardust Dreams (3 page)

The man frowned at her
again, but he appeared to believe her. "All right. I'll have to get
someone to touch your mind. Even if you think you didn't hear him, your
subconscious would have picked it up. If you'll accompany me to my ship—"

Cherry sidestepped the hand
that reached out to her. "No way, mister. If someone's going to crawl
around inside my head, it'll be somebody I trust. Governor Romulus is my
friend. I'd let him do it."

"Romulus is my friend
as well, but I don't have time to go looking for him. You'll have to come with
me." He reached for her again, and this time she barely avoided his touch
as she headed toward the door.

"Last chance,
Cherry," he warned.

She glanced back to issue a
smart retort, and saw the small black box in his hand. As her mouth opened to
scream, he fired.

Gallant Voyager's chest
tightened with near-panic as he saw her collapse on the floor.
Drek!
His para-lyzer had been set to stop Frezlo, not a pint-sized female. Going to
her quickly, he checked the pulse at her neck and was relieved to discover a
faint assurance that he hadn't killed her.

He hadn't even meant to
stun her—only convince her of the seriousness of the situation. But something
about the way she defied, no
dared
him to stop her, had made him react
with force rather than thought. He could hardly remember the last time he had
allowed that to happen.

Yanking off his eye patch,
he scanned Cherry Cochran from head to toe, as if the explanation for his error
would make itself clear if he used both eyes. Her costume kept him from judging
her perfectly, but there was nothing about what he
could
see that
might have made him forget himself.

Even as he picked her up in
his arms to take her to his ship, his instincts were sending warning notices
that he should leave her there. He couldn't afford to be around someone who was
capable of triggering a spontaneous
emotional
response from him so
easily. Not only his mission, but his life depended on his keeping secret the
fact that his ice-cold demeanor went no further than the image.

For the countless time, he
cursed the fates that forced him to live a lie.

Despite the uneasiness he
felt, he decided she could do him no harm in the short time it would take to
discover what the Weebort had said to her.

Out of habit, he was about
to replace the eye patch when he realized he would need both eyes to do what
had to be done. In order to carry an unconscious female aboard his ship without
answering any questions, he was going to have to perform a little
"magic." Because it was another of his necessary secrets, he only
used his special ability in extreme circumstances, and this was turning out to
be one of those times.

The solid kick in the ribs
jolted Romulus out of a deep sleep.
"Drek!
That one hurt." He
rolled toward Aster and massaged the spot on her taut, swollen abdomen where
their baby had called attention to itself. Whether it was his large, warm hand
or the calming thoughts he was sending, the fetus soon settled back down.

Aster placed her hand over
her mates. "I'm sorry, darling. That one was a surprise. I didn't have a
chance to block it from you."

"And I told you to
stop trying to spare me. You've got enough to do just dealing with your own
discomfort. Roll onto your other side and let me rub your back." As she
happily obliged, he chuckled to himself. When they had joined ten years ago,
they were not only bound physically, but spiritually and mentally as well. Aster's
pregnancy was the first time since then that he was less than pleased by the
results.

Although Innerworld's
medical achievements were far beyond anything she had known in Outerworld, carrying
a child for nine months wasn't much easier. The first bouts of morning sickness
before Aster was treated for it left Rom weak as a baby himself. Later in her
pregnancy, Aster prevented him from feeling most of her aches and pains and did
her best not to relay her cravings and mood swings, but even the little she had
not blocked was enough to let him know how uncomfortable she was. However, it
would all be worth it in the end.

Attempts had once been made
to develop the fetus outside the mother's womb, but the babies' minds and
bodies were never quite as healthy as when it grew inside its mother. As Rom
kneaded away the tension in her lower back, he felt his own muscles relax. At
least they would not have to tolerate the kind of pain a woman in her world
would during their daughter's birth.

Their daughter.
The first child
born of a mixed joining between a Noronian and a Terran. She wasn't even born
yet and her responsibilities were already overwhelming. He stopped himself from
thinking along those lines. There would be time enough for that later.

Though her gender was
known, her physical characteristics were not. Genetic control had been limited
to defects several centuries ago after a series of experiments went awry. He
couldn't help but wonder what she would look like.

She'll be beautiful, of
course,
Aster thought back to him. Rom was six foot three, she was five foot
ten, and they both had imposing physiques. Their child would undoubtedly grow
to be a statuesque woman. She would probably inherit dark, hair as well, but
there was no way to tell if hers would prematurely gray in her twenties as
Aster's hair had.

The baby's eye color was
the only real unknown. Aster's eyes were an unusual midnight blue and Rom's
were a green-brown shade of hazel… most of the time. Like many Noronians, his
eye color changed with his emotions—a characteristic Aster had learned to use
to her advantage shortly after they'd met.

It had been years since she
gave more than a passing thought to the circumstances that brought her to Innerworld
and Romulus. They were of two different worlds, and a joining between their
races was forbidden by law. Yet the Noronian mating fever struck them both,
proving they were soulmates, destined to be together for eternity.

Unfortunately, the same prejudice
that had existed when Aster first arrived in Innerworld still simmered in some
corners of the colony. Only the support of the Ruling Tribunal of Norona
prevented the bigots from speaking out too loudly.

Aster prayed that their
daughter would be strong enough to withstand whatever trials lay ahead for her.

Rom stopped rubbing her
back and snuggled up behind her. With a soft kiss on her cheek he assured her
everything would be fine. "In another month the worst will be over."

Aster laughed. "Ha! That
shows how little you know about babies. But then I don't have much more
experience than you. Being an only child didn't exactly prepare me for this
role. Thank heavens we'll have Cherry to help. She never talks much about her
childhood* but I know she had nine brothers and sisters, so she had to have
picked up some practical knowledge about raising children."

Rom blocked his next
thoughts from Aster. He liked Cherry and was glad Aster had been with her best
friend when they arrived in Innerworld, but Cherry's high energy level and
unleashed spontaneity always made him feel like he was caught up in a tornado. Whoever
said "opposites attract" must have had her and Aster in mind. Imagining
Cherry under his roof for extended periods of time did not fill him with the
same sense of gratitude Aster felt.

Just before Aster fell
asleep, she reminded Rom that Cherry promised to come by for lunch tomorrow. As
always, she looked forward to hearing what her friend had done for excitement
this week. Rom was her soulmate, but Cherry held an equally important position
in her life.

Long before the disaster
landed them in Inner-world, Cherry had appointed herself Aster's savior from
workaholism. Cherry was her alter ego, surrogate sister, and the closest friend
she'd ever had. Cherry had not only shared the most traumatic events in Aster's
life, but she always forced Aster to see the bright side of everything.

If anything, her bond with
Cherry had strengthened over the years because of their being removed from
their world. Despite the fact that Aster and Rom shared thoughts, Cherry was
the only person in Innerworld who could truly understand her feeling of
alienness that never went away.

And the fears she harbored
for her unborn child's future in a society where prejudice against Terrans
still fermented.

Thankfully, Cherry was
around to keep her fears from overriding the joy.

Cherry felt the softness
beneath her and tried to orient herself before opening her eyes. A sense of
danger swept through her, instantly followed by the memory of a wicked-looking
stranger. At least she hadn't been incinerated as the Weebort had been.

Cautiously, she opened her
eyes and surveyed her dimly lit surroundings. She was in a gray-walled room on
a large bunk that took up most of the limited space. That devil must have
brought her here… wherever
here
was. After a moment, she recalled his
insisting she accompany him to his ship.

Panic assailed her as she
leapt off the bed and pressed her palm to a square metal panel on the wall
beside the door. The door slid open with a soft
whoosh,
and relief
that she had not been locked in quickly replaced the momentary fear. Years of
improvising on stage had conditioned her to instantly adjust to whatever
situation she found herself in. She usually relished an unexpected turn of
events, but this one made her furious.

Stepping into a narrow
corridor, she noted it ended a few feet to her right at one door and two more
doors were across from her. About fifteen feet to her left, light streamed into
the corridor. She headed toward that light fully prepared for heated
confrontation.

The angry words on the tip
of her tongue were suspended by shock as Cherry reached the doorway and her
worst suspicions were confirmed. Although she had never traveled out of
Innerworld, she had no doubt she was on a ship. Her gaze quickly scanned what
had to be a bridge, with no visible walls, ceiling, or floor. She would have
examined the unusually clear glass beneath her feet, but the darkness beyond,
accented by distant dots of light, brought the panic back in a surge. She was
in space!

Two people were in the
center of the bridge behind a control panel. Long black hair with two white
stripes identified the man seated in the only chair. At his side, a tall woman
stood facing Cherry, wearing a body-hugging, olive green jumpsuit and a very
amused smile. Tight coils of chartreuse hair sprung out from her head, making
Cherry think of the Statue of Liberty's crown, and she seemed to be patiently
waiting for her to stop gawking.

"Greetings," the
woman finally said in a deep contralto voice. "Are you well?"

The instant the woman
spoke, the man started to swivel his chair around, but stopped abruptly and
donned the black eye patch before turning the rest of the way to face her. That
seemed odd to Cherry, but she had too many other concerns to question that. As
he rose, she thought his expression looked somewhat contrite… until he opened
his mouth.

"It's about
time," he said abruptly, then turned to the woman at his side. "Well?
What are you waiting for?"

"An
introduction," she answered calmly in her husky voice. "I believe two
people who are about to become intimately acquainted should at least know one
another's name."

"Now hold it right
there!" Cherry exclaimed, taking a step backward. "I draw the line
at—"

"Calm down," the
man interrupted with a wave of his hand. "No one's—"

"Calm down?" Cherry
asked with disbelief. "I haven't
begun
to get upset. I had better
hear some satisfactory explanations in the next ten seconds or… or I won't be
responsible for my actions."

"She sounds dangerous,
Captain. Should I restrain her?" the woman asked in a serious tone, but
the sparkle in her emerald eyes let Cherry know she probably wouldn't do such a
thing even if he ordered her to.

"Eight seconds,
Captain,"
Cherry warned, planting her fists on her hips.

He scowled back at her and
crossed his arms. "I don't respond well to threats, particularly from
someone half my size."

Cherry marched forward,
poked him in his chest with the index finger of her robotic right hand, and sent
him sprawling backward into his chair. "And / don't respond well to being
abducted. Now you have three seconds left before you find out what all five of
my fingers can do."

Rubbing his chest, he rose
with a grimace. "I suppose an explanation is in order. I am Gallant
Voyager—"

Cherry snorted. "Come
on, you can do better than that. How about Luke Skywalker? I've always been
kind of partial to that one."

Gallant straightened
himself to his full height, which was actually only a foot taller than
Cherry's. His tone of voice revealed that he was a bit touchy on the subject. "I
assure you, that is my name. Gallant Voyager is a direct translation of my
birthname, which is extremely difficult to pronounce."

"Okay, so you have a
name. How about the explanation?"