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Authors: Helen S. Wright

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The Webmaster
asked if you

d do a calibration
sequence, please,

Joshim called out.

Elanis glared as he removed his web-bands.

Are you a real First this time, or is
it still brevet?

he asked more
quietly.


Does it make a
difference?

Rafe asked mildly.

And whichever it is, you still ought to
check those contacts before you use them.


I assumed you
had.

He made a perfunctory check.

You haven

t changed much, have you?


That

s reassuring to know.

You cannot like everyone you web with,
Rafe told himself strictly, starting the calibration sequence. You only need to
trust them. It was unfortunate that Elanis did not inspire trust either.

Elanis

performance in the web had not improved in the near-year since Rafe had last
worked with him. It took Joshim less than an hour to reach an assessment of his
abilities, and only five minutes to tell it to him afterwards. Rafe lingered
out of hearing until Joshim had finished, and Elanis had dressed hastily and
departed. He had enough experience of Elanis

character to know that he would blame Rafe for Joshim

opinion, just as he had blamed Rafe for every unfavourable
opinion of him since Rafe had been promoted into the Third

s berth that Elanis had expected to get; Rafe had no intention of
being the target for his immediate spite.

The Webmaster was taking a leisurely shower when Rafe
finally went through to the shower-room.


Was he the
Webmaster

s lover on
Avannya
?

he asked, moving aside for Rafe.


No.

Rafe grinned maliciously.

Although he wanted to be, for the
privileges he thought it would get him. He wasn

t anybody

s lover, not
for very long. Things he learned across the pillow were all around the web-room
the following day.


You speak from
experience?


No. Observation.
That

s another of the things he has
against me.

Joshim laughed.

I
suspect he

s planning his way into my
bed. Any advice on how to avoid it?

Rafe took the tie out of his hair and shook the curls down.

I suspect he

d be lucky to make it through the cabin door.


True. Although it
isn

t so difficult for the right
person.

Rafe stepped into the spray to give himself time to think.
There had been enough warning of this in the speculative looks that Joshim had
been giving him since he joined the ship. He ought to have a response prepared;
what he had was a hollowness between heart and groin, both of which were
responding without words. He was not a virgin; there had been nights of
curiosity and comfort with other webbers, but always single nights, sharing
nothing except the hours of pleasure. There had never been any commitment, no
exchange of pasts and promise of futures, because Rafe had no past that he
dared to offer. But with Joshim, who already knew? The prospect unexpectedly
frightened him.


Is this such a
surprise, Rafe?

Joshim set his hands
lightly on Rafe

s shoulders and bent
forward to kiss him. Rafe had a moment of déjà vu that shook him as much as his
physical reaction

green eyes
beneath black hair, parted lips bending to kiss him. He trembled. Joshim
released him at once and stepped back.


Sorry, Rafe. I thought…

Rafe took his hands and pulled him back under the spray,
standing on tiptoe with his hands on Joshim

s
hips to reach his mouth. They kissed, broke apart for breath and kissed again
as fiercely. Joshim called a halt at last, holding Rafe firmly at arm’s length
with one hand and switching off the spray with the other.


Dry, dressed, and
down to my cabin? As Webmaster, I have to set a good example, and what will
happen in this shower if we don

t
leave it soon is not something I want the juniors to emulate

 

* * *

 

Rafe was a playful lover, his lips laughing as often as
kissing and in as many ways, but now he was lying beside Joshim in the
prolonged, easy silence that had followed their first loving, his face against
Joshim

s shoulder, one leg bent over
Joshim

s thigh. Joshim traced a
mischievous finger along his back. Rafe sighed in unabashed pleasure and turned
his head just enough to nip the lobe of Joshim

s ear. Joshim moved without haste until he could see Rafe

s face and stroke the fine sheen of silky
grey hair on his belly that merged into the diamond of brown curls at his
groin. Rafe gasped and rolled onto his back, reaching urgently for Joshim.
Joshim held his wrists gently and ran his tongue up the sensitive under-surface
of each arm before releasing them and setting his tongue to trace descending
circles through the grey down of Rafe

s
belly. Rafe moaned in eager anticipation and Joshim paused to look up at his
face.


Did you say
something?

he teased.

Rafe said something that showed scant respect for Joshim

s rank. Joshim tutted and settled
himself lower between Rafe

s thighs.
Playful and delightfully noisy, he amended as Rafe answered to his lips and
tongue. The final yell would have woken the whole ship were it not for the
soundproofing of the cabins.

He lay with his head on Rafe

s thighs afterwards, listening to his breathing move into the even
cadence of sleep. Rafe had a rare gift for knowing when words were needed, and
when silence was right; he was a comfortable person to be silent with, and if
he fell asleep without words, it was because he trusted Joshim to know what
might have been said.

He had a gift too for enjoying himself, for drawing every
drop of pleasure out of a moment before moving to the next. Joshim smiled at
the memory. There had been no haste when they closed the cabin door behind
them. A slow undressing, each savouring the initial revelation of the other

s body outside the discipline of the
web, exploring with the eyes before they touched. A gentle embrace, kissing with
none of their earlier urgency, moving to the bed, searching for the words and
the caresses that brought response, building a language to be shared between
them:
“This?


Yes.


And
this?


Oh, please, yes!

Joshim slipped off the bed, careful not to disturb the
sleeper, and said his evening prayers in front of the Arura in the niche behind
his desk. Late, but then they often were, and he could not believe in a deity
who required stopwatch accuracy, any more than he really believed in a deity
who would hear his prayers. Prayer was a reaffirmation of belief; the Arura was
a visible symbol of that belief; a deity, or thousands of them, were only other
symbols, necessary because his mind was too limited to comprehend the reality
behind them. How many reincarnations would it take before he progressed beyond
the need for those particular symbols? He stroked the curves of the Arura,
thinking that he would keep one even when he no longer needed it, amused by his
sudden, unusual introspection. There is a reason for every question, but not
necessarily an answer, he reminded himself as he lay down beside Rafe to sleep.

 

* * *

 

A face. A succession of faces, or were they all the same
face? They flashed in and out of focus, mouthing snatches of speech that were
sounds, not words. Rafe tried desperately to cling to one of them, any one of
them, to hear what was said, to see the face clearly. The effort drove the
dream away and he was lying in the dark with nothing left.

A dim light came on, making him blink, and there was a face
looking down on him. He struggled to put a name to it, knowing that he knew
one, not knowing what it was. He squeezed his eyes shut and swore in
frustration.


Rafe?

The voice triggered memory. Joshim. Rafe opened his eyes
again and tried his own voice.

Sorry.
Nightmare.

He sat up and rested his
chin on his knees.

Did I wake you?


Yes.

It was not a complaint. Joshim put his
arm across Rafe

s shoulders and
squeezed briefly.

Tell me?

Rafe shrugged.

I
wish I could. There isn

t anything to
tell. Nothing I can remember,

he
added sardonically.


Your father?

Joshim guessed.


The Commander
told you?


She mentioned it.


There

s no proof that he is my father. Or
anything else to me. And if you

d
asked me before I went to sleep, I would have said it didn

t bother me at all.

Rafe smiled with difficulty.

Obviously,
I would have been wrong. Something must have triggered that nightmare.


How often do you
have them?


Not often, now.

Rafe sighed.

Immediately after I was wiped, they came every night. Now, it

s once or twice a year, with the
occasional bad patch.

He rubbed his
cheek against the hand on his shoulder.

You

re honoured. You

re only the second person who

s
ever been woken by one.


Oh? What sort of
company am I in?


One of
Avannya’
s juniors. She was in the web
when we hit the EMP-mine.


I

m sorry. Was she special to you?


We only spent the
one night together. She was a nice kid, though.

Rafe shook his head in remembered grief.

About Churi

s age, and
as plump. Working her way through every cabin in the ship, the way they do when
they

ve just got their webs. Making
up for lost time as an apprentice and eager to find out about the fringe
benefits of their new nervous system. Hell, the way I probably behaved when I
first got my web.


Churi been in
your bed yet?

Joshim teased
deliberately.


No.

Rafe accepted the diversion
gratefully, determined to enlarge on it.

He
thinks the Commander is in possession, or will be soon. Magred has better
powers of observation. She was backing you.

He turned to face Joshim completely, slipping one arm around his waist and
tracing the linked circles of the tattoo on his left breast with the fingers of
the other hand.

Ready to go back to
sleep?


You have another
idea?

Rafe grinned mischievously and straddled Joshim.

I do,

he promised deep in his throat.

Lie there and I

ll show
you.

Conversation at the office of
Councillor Danriya Lady Carher

“The agent is in place, with explicit
instructions to cover every contingency. If all goes well, the problem will be
solved by the end of the year.”

“You said that last year too.”

“This time the matter will be handled by the agent in person.
He is in no doubt about the consequences of another failure.”

 

227/5043
ARAMAS ZONE, OLD EMPIRE

Rallya dropped into the seat that Elanis had just vacated
in front of the web-monitor, perfectly aware that he had only risen to collect
a cup of alcad. The monitor showed no unusual activity, just two web-teams in
the last hour of another uneventful shift. Vidar was nominally in the
key-position, with Rafe as second, but they had switched roles for this shift.
Good practice for both teams, and halfway to the convoy’s destination without
incident, everybody needed a little variety to keep them sharp.

The small screen to one side of the web-monitor showed a
mass-scan of the convoy, the cargoships as fat, lumbering blips and the
patrolships as smaller blips tied to the speed of the cargoships by invisible
chains. The cargoships were complacent; Noromi spent his whole time exhorting
them to make better speed, without results. Having passed safely through the
system’s major jump point, the obvious place for an Outsider attack, the
cargoship Threes had given a collective sigh of relief and dropped their speed,
to settle happily around the optimum of their mass-speed cost curves for the
run down to the settlements on the inner planets.

Only Sajan, aboard
Tariya
,
was showing any sense, and in her position at the back end of the convoy, she
was handicapped in her attempts to gain speed by the ships in front, who wailed
to Noromi whenever
Tariya
ran up to
their tails. In Noromi’s place, Rallya would have used Sajan to force the
others to increase speed, instead of giving her a warning about convoy formation
whenever the wails became too loud. In fact, she had offered
Bhattya
’s services to perform the same
function; a patrolship creeping inexorably up your rear end was a powerful
incentive to accelerate. The hell with Noromi’s veto; if things did not improve
soon, she would do it anyway.

BOOK: A Matter of Oaths
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