If you don’t like syntho, you have to cook your own. Enjoy your meal.”
For the second time in five minutes I started to walk around him, but even a ten-year-old could have blocked the doorway without trying. Val, about as far as you can get from a ten-year-old, was trying, and what a surprise that turned out to be.
“I’m not very good at following instructions like that,” the man who had helped rebuild my ship said in a coaxing voice, at the same time looking down at me with a smile in his dark black eyes. “Why don’t you stay here and help me, and then we can both enjoy the meal.”
I let myself stiffen enough for him to notice, then glared up at him.
“You don’t have to rub it in!” I hissed with enough venom to widen his eyes in startlement. “If I knew how to cook, don’t you think I’d be eating food instead of syntho? Don’t think you can embarrass me about it, because you can’t! I’m good enough at enough other things that cooking doesn’t mean a thing!
Not a thing! Now, get out of my way!”
He retreated in confusion at my tirade, giving me enough room to stalk out of the galley, then let me carry my coffee away to the control room without saying a word. I settled myself and the coffee in the pilot’s seat, activated the forward screens, then grinned faintly as I sipped and watched our not-yet-visible progress through the deep black. Syntho might not taste very good until you got used to it, but it was more nutritionally balanced than natural food, it helped keep you in better shape physically during a dead-time trip like the one we were currently on-and it was incredibly convenient for people like me who didn’t care to be bothered with cooking. If Val reacted to my play-acting the way I expected him to, I’d have my choice of the syntho or an already-cooked meal of natural food for the rest of the trip.
Already-cooked by Val. If he ever found out I cooked well enough to suit just about anybody I’d probably have to defend myself, but life without risk is nothing more than existing. I put my heels up on the edge of the board, sipped at my coffee, and began thinking about how long I ought to resist being invited to dinner.
I stayed in the control room until I finished my coffee, went to my cabin to read and nap for a while, then returned to the exercise area to run through those forms I hadn’t gotten to earlier. I would have thought Val had disappeared off the ship if I hadn’t heard the muted clatter and movements every time I passed the galley; his new preoccupation was taking all of his attention, an absolute blessing as far as I was concerned. The change of being out from under surveillance for a while made it more than worth it.
When I finished the forms I showered again, then sat down to read.
It was just about 1800 hours
AST
when I put my book aside, too distracted to sit there any longer. I hadn’t been particularly hungry earlier that day so all I’d had was coffee, but just then I was feeling the hollowness clear down to my ankles. I’d been expecting Val to figure out how to use the cooking unit, but there was always the possibility he would turn out to be King Thumbs in anything domestic. It would be too bad all the way around, but I could survive easily on syntho, and Val would just have to learn to like it. I left my cabin and went straight to the galley and the syntho server, ignoring the galley’s other occupant until my wrist was grabbed in a big hand before I could touch the selector dial.
“You don’t want any of that,” I was told in very firm tones, the hand pulling me gently around and away from the server. “Don’t you remember how hard it is to dispose of bodies on this ship?”
“If I don’t get any of that, you’ll be faced with the need to make the effort,” I pointed out, moving my wrist in his hand. “I happen to be hungry, and I’d like to get something to eat. ”
“Then let’s get you something to eat,” he said with a faint grin, heading me toward the other side of the galley before turning my wrist loose. “Is there some place with more elbow room where we can set this out?”
“This” turned out to be more courses of fresh-cooked food than I ever expected to see before I got back to the Federation, all kept nice and warm behind the holder panels surrounding the cooker. I could now understand why I hadn’t smelled any of his efforts, but not why he hadn’t already begun digging in.
“There’s a pull-out table in the salon you can use,” I answered. “I’ll have mine in a minute, and then I’ll be out of your way.”
I tried to turn away from the open holder panels, but the hand in the middle of my back wasn’t allowing that. My avenue of retreat was well blocked off.
“What’s the matter, are you too good to eat with me?” Val asked softly, making sure his arm stayed in my way. “Are you afraid to try it in case you like it? It takes a big person to accept a shortcoming, Diana, but I thought you were big enough to do it. Was I wrong?”
I looked up at the sober face looking down at me, silently giving E for effort to the line he’d decided on.
“All right, I’ll join you,” I grudged, trying not to lick my lips in anticipation of what was making those delicious smells. “But only this once. It so happens I-like syntho.”
“Only this once,” Val agreed without hesitation, showing his grin nowhere except his eyes. “You get the pull-out table pulled out, and I’ll start bringing the food.”
With chore assignments made I was free to go where I liked, which was into the salon to see to the table.
A pretty white cloth fluffed out once the table was locked into open position, and Val began covering it with dishes while I unracked a couple of chairs from the dining set recess, then checked the wine list to see what was available. On the trip out I’d used a heavy brandy to get stoned on once, not caring to waste anything better on the urges of deep depression. A wine drunk is murder on the constitution, and the hangover had been bad enough to keep me from doing it a second time, which left the figurative cellar almost untouched. Val had prepared a seafood appetizer, a meat soup, a meat and vegetables main dish, something with about ten million calories for dessert, and had cheese and fruit and breads scattered around. I selected one good white wine, an average rose and a darned good red, then decided against the excellent brandy the yacht’s original owner had undoubtedly laid in for himself. If I felt like sharing brandy with Val, I could always call it up later.
Once we were settled at the table, there was more plate-passing and swallowing than gabbing accomplished, the sort of silence one gives to a very creditable effort. Val’s handling of the seasoning was unorthodox but interesting, and the fact that I could have done better didn’t keep me from thoroughly enjoying myself. We worked our way through the first two bottles of wine along with most of the food, then sat back to sample the third.
“This is nice,” Val observed, raising his glass so that the light gleamed red off its contents, then brought it to his lips again. “Have you made any plans for our first stop after we reach your Federation?”
“I certainly have,” I answered with a good deal of satisfaction, noticing how close to blood color the wine was. I felt relaxed and good after that meal, and didn’t mind talking about my plans. “I have some unfinished business named Radman to see to, and then I’ll show you a few of the sights. ”
“Isn’t that the name of the slaver who first put you on this ship?” Val asked, looking at me over the rim of his glass. “When Dameron first questioned you he found out you’d been after this Radman, but he never learned exactly why. What law did he break?”
“Aside from what he did to me?” I asked, remembering the way I’d felt after waking up aboard that ship, the control room in ruins, unexplored vastness all around me, my future all behind me. If I hadn’t been too stubborn to give him the satisfaction, I would have gone slowly mad, locked up in a crippled hulk on my way to the far side of forever. And it was all Radman’s doing, the slime who found that sort of thing more fun than a clean death, the filth who never thought. I’d come back from it, the dead man who didn’t yet know we had a final date penciled in on the calendar.
“Radman’s a special case among slavers,” I said after taking a deep, necessary swallow of my wine, only vaguely noticing that Val hadn’t filled the gap between my question and the beginning of my answer to his question. “As long as he stuck to ordinary slave-trading he was none of our business too many member planets consider slavery of one sort or another legal. Not long ago, though, he decided to branch out.
“Two Councilmen were arguing for opposite sides of an important political question, and Radman, in an effort to increase his power, approached one of them with an offer. For all I know, the Councilman may have thought he was acting in the best interests of the people; whatever it was, he made a deal with Radman and two days later the other Councilman’s three children disappeared. The second Councilman was told he would see them again only if he abandoned his opposition to the first Councilman’s stand.”
Val was still staring at me silently, his wine glass held in both hands, his lack of expression giving me no clues as to what he was thinking. I took my eyes away from him, and went on with the story.
“Unfortunately for his children, the second Councilman was a man of honor,” I continued. “He refused to desert his stand, and the kids paid for it. They were never seen at home again, but were eventually traced to the pleasure planet Xanadu, purely by accident. Radman had sold them to the Pleasure Sphere, and it was much too late to save them. The nine-year-old-girl and twelve-year-old-boy had been used to death by the patrons, and the sixteen-year-old-girl had committed suicide. It didn’t take long before the Councilman went the same way his oldest daughter had gone.”
“And all that because of someone’s twisted desire for power,” Vat said very softly, so softly that I looked back at him in startlement. I’d never heard such chill menace from him before. “And you were supposed to arrest him, but instead of your getting him, he got you. Why were you sent alone? Why didn’t they send a squad of peacekeepers?”
“A squad of male peacekeepers, you mean?” I asked with a very faint smile before sipping my wine.
“We don’t call them that in the Federation, but I catch your meaning. The only problem with that is Federation police can’t do what I do. ”
“Why not?” he asked, almost in annoyance, his wine forgotten. “What makes a lone female more qualified to arrest filth like that than a squad of men?”
“Possibly the fact that there’s no arrest involved,” I answered, trying not to watch him closely and failing miserably. “The Council issued a death warrant on Radman to show how much they appreciated his efforts, and I’m the Special Agent they sent to serve it. If someone hadn’t warned him I was coming, I would have killed him and left the body for his friends to find, as a warning against trying something like that ever again. It would hardly have been the first death warrant I ever served, Val, and if I’m very, very lucky, I’ll get back to find that no one else was sent to see to it in my absence. Not even police special squads are authorized to-or capable of-executing a death warrant. I am.”
I watched him absorb the news. It hadn’t been necessary to tell him that with a two-month trip still in front of us, but I couldn’t hold back. Val knew well enough that I’d killed on Tildor-hell, I’d almost done it to him!-but there was a big difference between killing in self-defense and killing in cold blood. That the end result was the same made no difference to most people; deliberate executions of any sort were horrifying, and the soulless, inhuman creatures capable of taking life without the mitigating emotions of rage or fear-for-self were more horrifying still. Those black eyes watched me while I watched him, the thoughts behind them totally unreadable, and abruptly I didn’t care to play the game any more. I didn’t give a damn how shocked he was; at least it would keep him out from under my feet from then on.
“Thanks for the meal,” I said, swallowing the last of my wine before replacing the glass carefully on the table and then standing. “If you’d ever like it matched in syntho, just let me know. ”
I started back toward my cabin, looking forward to being alone, but Val was out of his chair so fast he practically materialized in front of me, blocking the way.
“Come on, you don’t really want to put us back to where we were,” he said, sounding as if that was all there was worth discussing between us. “That wine is much too good to be left after a single taste, and I really hate drinking alone. And you haven’t finished telling me what we’ll be doing in the Federation once we take care of that Radman garbage. Just a little while longer, and a little more of the wine-What do you say?”
“After we take care of Radman?” I echoed, feeling as if I’d already had more than enough wine. I couldn’t understand how he could dismiss what I’d told him so lightly, not with the way people usually took it. “What about-what I just said. Didn’t it bother you?”
“Of course it bothered me,” he said, looking faintly startled. “Just because you’re capable of doing a tough job like that doesn’t mean they had the right to send you in entirely unprotected, without any back-up. Something can slip in any dangerous situation, just the way it did in yours. Next time he’ll have the two of us to contend with, and I don’t think he’ll do as well-no matter who warns him about what. ”
“The two of us,” I echoed again, almost in a whisper, feeling so strange that I couldn’t describe it, even to myself. I’d had partners before, usually under protest and usually forgotten as soon as the assignment was over, but even when it had worked out I’d never felt so-really wanted. It was stupid, and probably a combination of imagination and too much wine, but as I looked up into those dark black eyes, it almost felt as though Val was considering me with an eye for more than what most men usually wanted. A big hand came gently to my face, and I looked up in time to see how close his face was. Warm lips touched mine briefly but without any doubt, and then we were heading for one of the couches, to discuss the Federation a bit more over another glass of the really good wine.. When it finally came to me that what he probably wanted was nothing more than some human interaction in the midst of the ultimate isolation all around us, I was able to relax again and hold up my end of the conversation. The rest of it was just wine and imagination after all, but that strange feeling still warmed the rest of that “night. ”