Morgan Selwood 3: A Victory Celebration (4 page)

"But your marriages are arranged.
Family to family. It's got nothing to do with love."

He shook his head. "I'm a grown man,
my parents have no say in who I wish to marry now my wife has passed on. And
I've done my duty to the family line, produced a son and a daughter. I want to
marry you."

She sank back onto the bed. "I love
you desperately, Ashkar. But I'd be the wrong wife for you. You'd offend all
those admirals offering you their daughters."

"I've already done that."

"Oh."

"Yes. Three out-and-out proposals. And
I've ignored quite a number of indirect propositions. I'm not in the
market." He grinned. He'd said those words and they were so right. The
woman he loved lay beside him.

"Ashkar, you can't be married to an
alien. Imagine what a field day the gossip mongers would have."

"I don't care."

She tilted her body so she could meet his
gaze. "I do. You'll be grand admiral, I'm sure of it. If I'm not holding
you back. Look, they accept our relationship because we don't advertize it. But
marriage?"

He slid an arm around her, holding her
tight to his side. She smelled of sex and sweat and a hint of her favorite
perfume. He'd never loved her more. "They'll get over it."

"Please, let it go. I'm very happy
with how things stand. Please?"

He felt the tension in her body. She meant
what she said. But so did he. This was a subtle form of warfare, or perhaps
diplomacy. He would have to persuade her, win her over to his position. Time to
retire gracefully, and regroup. He gathered her up, aware of parted lips close
to his, her breast against his chest, her beautiful, silver eyes imploring him.
"If you're happy, I'm happy."

He met those luscious lips with his own.

***

 Ravindra stretched his shoulders and
wished the chairs in these conference rooms were a bit more comfortable. He'd
fielded the questions from his senior admirals, anxious to know what had
happened the previous evening. He hadn't gone into detail but the knowing
smirks said it all. They were happy; only President Assarta to go. Speaking of
which, here was the man himself with his entourage of lackeys. Ravindra stood
and bowed.

"Good morning to you, Admiral,"
said Assarta, returning the gesture. "I trust you all enjoyed your
evening, officers," he said to the room at large. "And I understand
you retrieved your lady safely?"

"I did, Mister President."

"There was some… ah… fuss, I
understand? Armed troops in an innocent nightclub?" He waited, clever eyes
on Ravindra’s face. He already knew all this.

 If he was expecting an apology it would
not be forthcoming. "Unfortunate, I know. We had reason to believe that
Suri
Selwood was in danger. But my public relations people have already explained
this have they not? And apologized for the inconvenience caused?"

"Mister Trimpathi—the owner of the
nightclub—is a well-respected businessman here." Assarta’s voice held a
note of reproach.

And a generous supporter of Assarta’s Mirka
faction. "I assure you, his business won’t suffer. Quite the reverse. The
place will have added popularity. And the lads
Suri
Selwood danced with…
they’ll have a story to tell their grandchildren."

"True," conceded Assarta, lips
pursed. "Not every man can claim to have danced with the Orionar
Queen." His eyes glittered with a hint of malice. He knew what had
happened on Krystor and he probably knew about the temple, too. So many leaks.

"Without her your local war would
still be unfinished."

Assarta raised an eyebrow. "And when
will we have the opportunity to meet this remarkable woman?"

"She’ll be joining me for this
evening’s ball."

"Ah. Excellent. Well now. Let’s move
on to the agenda items."

Ravindra took the opportunity for a quiet
word with Prasad during the morning break, leading him away from the other
delegates and out onto a balcony with a murmured excuse. The city basked in
sunshine, the sky clear and transparent, a slight breeze stirring the flags on
their poles. A far off glitter betrayed the snow caps on the distant peaks, and
a bright glare low on the horizon was the second of this system’s twin suns.

Ravindra leaned on the balustrade, one foot
propped up on the lower rail. "I want you to investigate, Prasad. This
whole business with Morgan smells wrong."

"How did she get off the ship without
an escort?"

Ravindra grunted. "It seems Morgan
explained that she was going out with a group of Fleet officers and wasn’t that
escort enough?"

"Ah. That was a mistake."

"Not one those troopers will make
again. They’re already off the ship. After what happened last time she went off
on her own..." He took in a deep breath and blew it out again, then
shifted his position, turning so that he had his back to the railing, his arms
folded. "It all seems to have been very innocent but…" he shook his
head and frowned. "Look at anything you can lay your hands on about that
night—the restaurant, the nightclub, the shuttle flight down." He gazed
out across the city. "I don’t know. Maybe I’m being paranoid, but she’s
such a prize. We’ve only just started to scratch the surface of what she can
do. Asbarthi may be dead but
Bunyada
isn't."

"She is. I think if I was
Bunyada
,
I’d be trying again."

Chairs scraped in the conference room. "Report
to me as soon as you have something."

"
Srimana
." Prasad bowed.

Ravindra returned to the conference as the
intelligence chief slipped out the doors.

***

Eyes still closed, Morgan wiggled her nose
and breathed in deeply. Ravindra’s bed, but he was gone. She sighed, stretched
and yawned. What a night. What a spectacular, magnificent night it had been.
After that first glorious union, she had slept until, aroused and wanting, he
had woken her with kisses and caresses from erotic dreams into reality. Her
orgasm had rippled through her body like a seismic wave, shaking her to her
core, as she gasped beneath him, arms around his shoulders.

She sat up in bed and put her arms around
her knees, her hair hanging down around her face. She still felt stupid and
guilty about her night out with the girls and yet she’d been touched more than
she realized by the depth of his concern. She had to admit that she wouldn’t
have imagined he’d care so much. Enough to want to marry her. That would have
been silly. He deserved to be their grand admiral but with her as his consort…
She shook her head. No. Even though they both knew she wasn't really an alien,
nobody was going to believe it. They'd point at her hair and her eyes and how
weak she was. She was glad they'd put
that
notion to bed.

She stretched her shoulders, wincing a
little as sore muscles complained. Out of practice. Still, the dance had been a
spectacular success, two bodies moving together, working to the music in a way
she could never have imagined. The routine had certainly never been designed as
a duet.

"Oh."

That was it. The shift drive. What if the
interlocking parts of the motivator didn't quite dance to the same tune? She
leapt out of bed. This was something she could work on.

***

Morgan ran a hand through her hair as she
walked along the passage to Ravindra's office. She'd been summoned, but by his
clerk. And he wasn't taking her calls. He wasn't even supposed to be here. What
the hell was going on? Oh, well. She'd find out soon enough. And at least she
could tell him they were almost ready for another test of the shift drive. She
grinned. And this time she reckoned it would work.

Ravindra's office door opened as she
approached. He sat behind his desk, his hands steepled in front of him. Prasad,
standing facing the door, offered her a neck bow.

"What's going on?" she asked. "I
thought you were staying planetside for the ball?"

"I want you to be present for a small
ceremony." Ravindra rose and walked around to stand behind her. A glance
at his face was enough to tell her not to ask questions.

A moment later Leila Peris entered, flanked
by two guards. Her eyes slid to Morgan for a moment and then she saluted
Ravindra, head respectfully bowed. "
Srimana
."

She was nervous, but then you'd expect she
would be, dragged into the admiral's office.

Prasad stood in front of the girl. "Lieutenant
Peris, you are under arrest for treason against the Manesai Union, in
particular for conspiring to kidnap
Suri
Selwood."

Morgan started. "What are you saying? That’s
ridiculous."

She made to step forward but Ravindra laid
his hand on her shoulder. "It’s true. Watch."

Judging by Leila's reaction, it was true.
The fear beamed off her, bright as a beacon but she managed to shake her head. "That's
rubbish."

Prasad put a data card into the reader on
Ravindra's desk. "Is it?"

Morgan recognized the nightclub,
Trimpathi’s
.
The grainy security footage showed Ravindra shoving through the dancers to
collect Morgan, showed the crowd following behind as he dragged her up the
stairs. A few moments later, the people returned, coming back down in small
groups, chatting and laughing. Morgan recognized all the women from the group
she had been with, saw them collect their things and leave.

"I was fetched, they left. So what?"

"Keep watching," said Ravindra.

Leila, coming back. Leila meeting someone,
someone who put an arm around her.

Morgan turned to stare up at Ravindra. "So
she met somebody. I still don't see the point?"

"It's who she met," he said. "This
man is a local
Bunyada
operative. We found out about him from the rebel
data we obtained when we seized their headquarters."

Bunyada
. Again. Morgan's legs
trembled. It was all she could do not to sway.

"He is under arrest," said Prasad
softly, smiling slightly, a nasty, satisfied smile as Leila started. "We
caught him yesterday."

The room fell silent, except for the sound
of Morgan’s breathing, her chest heaving. Leila stared at the floor, mashing
her lips.

"I thought we were friends,"
Morgan said. "I guess I should have known better." The disappointment
was a bitter taste in her mouth.

"We are friends." Leila raised
her chin, staring at Ravindra for a moment. "I don't care what you do to
me. But you, Morgan. You don't want to work for them, these Mirka oppressors.
All we want is freedom to govern ourselves. We're equals, we Vesha and the
Mirka. We know you found evidence on Krystor." She flung out an arm
pointing a finger at Ravindra. "But he… he has covered it up. You must
see. They're trying to hide our past from us, prevent us from learning the—"

"That's enough," Ravindra
snapped. "Prasad. Take her away."

The guards gripped Leila's arms, one on
each side, and marched her out, Prasad following.

Morgan leaned back against Ravindra's
chest, feeling the warmth of his body. He slid an arm around her waist. "All
right?"

"Yes. Huh. And here I was thinking she
really liked me."

"Perhaps she did. But the point is, my
love, you are a target. And you will continue to be."

"Yes, yes. Point made and understood.
Was it just her? Not the others?"

"Just her. And her boyfriend."
That at least offered a small sense of relief.

"What was the plan?" she asked,
turning to look at him.

"They were going to drug you—all of
you, spike your drinks so you appeared to be drunk."

"All of us?"

"Except Peris, of course. Then she and
her friend would have helped you out of the place."

"And then?"

"We can only guess."

She sighed. "When did you know all
this?"

"Today. Prasad contacted me when
they’d caught Peris's friend." He urged her toward the door to his
quarters. "Come. I'll pour you a drink."

They sat on the couch together, Morgan's
head on his shoulder, grateful for his warmth, his hard strength. "At
least I have some good news. I think I've solved the problem with the shift
drive."

She felt him straighten. "Have you
indeed."

"Mmm. Have you really been keeping all
the Krystor Temple revelations from the people?"

He sipped his brandy. "There's so
little to go on. You've seen what happens if the wrong people get even a sniff
of something they can use. The Orionar Queen?"

She snorted.

"And yet," he said softly, "our
people should know where they came from. If we can find the evidence to show
them. Maybe forge links with their ancestors. If you've fixed that remarkable
shift drive, perhaps we have the means as well as a route to follow."

Morgan put her glass back on the table and
turned to gaze into his eyes. "You want to go back."

He nodded. "Follow the trail.
Backtrack Artemis and take it from there. We
must
come from the same
stock."

She still had lingering regrets that they'd
had to destroy Artemis, the massive ship with its fabled Artificial
Intelligence. She could have learnt so much if the AI hadn't been insane. But
Artemis had shown her the route she'd taken through the galaxy, from what
became the Coalition. Morgan had the data in her implant. It would take too
long with a normal shift drive, but with the one she was developing?

Excitement bubbled. Go home, at least to
see. "Will you come?"

He nodded. "I'll persuade the High
Command or I'll take leave of absence. We can find out where Artemis came from
and maybe track down the man in the temple."

Maybe. A man thousands of years dead. But
they had some clues; the star system in the temple, the man's DNA, the feline.

"Oh, man." She flung her arms
around his neck and kissed him, molding against his body. He shifted, sliding
his fingers into her hair, his tongue thrusting between her lips. He tasted of
brandy.