Starlaw (26 page)

“I'm sure she's all right,” Barst placated. “Perhaps we've just overlooked her in the throngs. There are a great many in attendance, after all.”

Darius sighed heavily. “Barst … check the dining area and the ballroom. Gemma, check the great chamber and the ladies' dressing rooms. The crew knows her. Ask around,” he ordered.

As Barst and Gemma hurried away to begin their search, he strode purposely into the garden area, trying not to interrupt trysts between members of his crew and the lovers with whom they'd so recently been reunited.

With each passing moment he was more certain that Laurel had never made it on one of the shuttles headed to the castle. He'd given her the space she'd seemed to crave and was now sorry for it. Without a communication device of any kind, how would she know where she was or where the airfield was if she got lost?

He dodged well-wishers and those who'd comment on political decisions having to do with Goll's capture, and made his way to a communication console in his father's study. Several vid calls to the airfield proved fruitless. A cleaning supervisor, whose crew was sprucing up the
Titan
, hadn't seen a lone woman matching Laurel's description. The man confirmed there were no enforcers remaining on the ship. Gate guards couldn't remember who, among all the enforcers, had left the airfield alone. Without any reason to ask for ID from those
leaving
the field, they hadn't noticed anything amiss—even though she was in an unmarked League uniform.

“Fools! The guards should have at least noticed that much about her,” he angrily muttered as he shut down communication to the airfield.

Furious over having to leave the celebrations, he knew there was simply no other choice. If Gemma or Barst didn't find her, and none of the crew had seen her, then she was not on the premises. He found his parents and dejectedly made explanations for having to leave the celebrations.

“Mother, Father … please, excuse me. I have to find the Earth woman we took aboard the
Titan
. Creator only knows what she thinks of us for departing as we did. As a primitive, we can't leave her on her own. There's much she doesn't understand about our society.”

“Of
course
,” Maelle agreed. “This is unbelievably awkward. That poor young woman was simply left behind? Part of tonight's festivities was meant to be in her honor; she's the first Earthling on our world.”

“Don't worry, Your Majesty,” Barst addressed Maelle as he joined Gemma and Darius, “if there's anyone in the star system who can look after herself it's Laurel. Our mutual ignorance of her whereabouts is still incredibly tactless.”

After bidding their families a brief goodbye, Darius, Gemma, and Barst left the palace and made their way back to the ship. Where the gate guards hadn't remembered her, perimeter guards had. Several had seen Laurel leave toward the main thoroughfare. Because the
Titan
's arrival was being celebrated, the shopkeepers and street merchants would be doing business day and night. Thousands of people crowded the area.

Darius took communicators from the ship's inventory and the three of them split up. As he left to search the central section of the city, he couldn't help but wonder why she hadn't simply followed the crew to the celebration. It wasn't as if they'd
meant
to leave her. Knowing the woman's damned pride, she probably stayed behind on purpose.

• • •

Laurel lost track of time. She wandered the streets seeing things a science fiction writer would give their right arm to witness. There were creatures of every imaginable shape, size, and color meandering about. And, to her amusement, they appeared in every stage of dress and
un
dress. Women of some species bared their breasts for men who eagerly suckled nipples and fondled shapely curves. This was Lusterian nightlife, in no way similar to the austerity—and chastity—of a deep space enforcer's existence. What she had seen aboard the
Titan
hadn't prepared her for this strange but exciting multitude. It was surreal, dramatic, and even comical. The new quickly wore off, however. She was reminded a million times over, and in every small way, how alone she was on this world. As they had on so many occasions, feelings of inadequacy threatened to overwhelm. Her jaw clenched, bolstering courage that suddenly threatened to desert.

But no one acted threatening. The passing crowds didn't even seem to notice her. Once more, as she had so many times, she tamped down paranoid thoughts, took a deep breath, and continued. It wasn't as if there was no diversion.

Merchants offered wonderful cloth, exotic scents, fragrant and tantalizing dishes. She only wished Gemma were with her to explain things. The blue woman had become quite important in her life and Laurel missed their shared, first real outing on Luster. But she understood. Gemma had a family and wanted to be with them.
Hers
would obviously believe she was dead by now. As things in her family stratosphere went, she was pretty sure they'd eventually got on with life. She'd be a fond memory, replaced by the new children her father would get by a girl near her own age. Her mother would take extra trips to Italy, buy gold jewelry to assuage her pain, then return home to California with a new lover.

She stopped in the middle of a gray stone thoroughfare and wished Cory were still alive.
He
got her. That was why she'd spent so much time with him and his fiancée.

Her throat tightened.

How in God's name would she ever adapt? It was a necessity. She knew it. But how did a person keep pretending to be all right? What resources were there for coping?

“Are you in need of help?” a strange voice asked from behind.

She whirled to see a very dark blue, tall man wearing a silver jerkin, pants, and tall boots. His square jaw, straight nose, and electric blue eyes were startling. But he was a handsome male. With his bald head, standing there smiling down at her, she was reminded of Mr. Clean. He gazed down at her with concern in his eyes. As a defense against pity, she immediately pulled her shoulders back and smiled brilliantly. “Oh no … I'm fine, thank you! I … I'm new to Luster. Just enjoying the sights.”

“Strange. You wear an enforcer's uniform with no visible markings,” he said. “Is this some new style?”

“No. I'm not an enforcer. I'm sort of a refugee. The clothing was loaned to me until I can acquire garments of my own.”

“Ah! You must have just arrived on the
Titan
? Am I correct?”

Laurel nodded.

The big man stepped closer. “You looked a bit lost. If I can be of assistance … ”

“No. I'm fine.
Really
.”

A woman with scarlet skin, flame-red hair and a diaphanous dress that sparkled in the light from nearby shops suddenly latched onto Mr. Clean. This new being looked up at dark blue guy with lust in her eyes.

“There you are, Crecian. I'm in need of you,” scarlet woman announced while staring aggressively at Laurel, and staking her claim by running her hands all over Crecian's body.

Laurel realized she was being warned off, but dark blue man still stared at her intently and spoke again.

“Would you like to join us?” he asked. “We're celebrating the monthly glow of Luster's two moons. He reached for the gown scarlet woman wore, and pulled one shoulder of it down to more fully reveal the lady's very large right breast. “We can share coitus tea. It induces lactation. The drinking of breast milk is a custom during such celebrations here.”

With that announcement, he grasped the scarlet woman's breast, and massaged it enough that droplets of milk actually fell from the orange-red female's nipple.

Laurel stood in shocked silence. What could she possibly say and not sound incredibly inane?

“I hoped to have you to myself, Crecian,” the bare-breasted siren complained as she lifted her breast for Crecian's inspection.

“This lady is new to our world, Fior. We should make her welcome,” Crecian gently insisted as he spoke to his companion.

Laurel finally found her voice. Her next words came out sounding a bit high-pitched but firm. “Um … thanks for the offer. I-I'm … trying to cut down!” She turned and strode away quickly.

Before dark blue floor cleaner man and flame-woman could follow, she jogged around the nearest street corner.

With the same glee a lost child might experience on seeing familiar faces, she caught sight of some of the men and women from the
Titan
. The glass-front tavern they stood before—with its neon-looking signs and cosmic, planetary statues outside—must be the Nebulae Bar. Some of them remarked about the place while aboard the ship. There'd been enthusiastic discussions about visiting the hangout after other, official landing obligations were attended to.

She smiled heartily. Thankfully, all of the crew she saw were dressed in their uniforms. None seemed interested in participating in bizarre lactation events, much to her relief. And like a lot of friends she'd partied with back on Earth, the shift seemed to be enjoying each other's company, making toasts with various beverages in multi-colored, oddly shaped glasses. A few were enjoying the night air by sitting at scattered café tables that appeared to have been carved of heavy white marble. The scene vaguely reminded her of sailors on leave at the 32nd Street Naval Base back home.

One of Gemma's assistants saw her, ran forward, and pulled her into the amiable rowdiness. So happy to be among beings she at least knew, Laurel laughed outright.

A white, snake-looking man pressed an impressive fuchsia-colored drink into her hands. She gazed at the bluish fog drifting off the top of the beverage, but the crew around her dared her to drink it. After what she'd just witnessed around the corner, a good stiff drink seemed appropriate.

She shrugged off any misgivings concerning the fogging nature of the beverage, took a sip, and found it wonderfully refreshing. It tasted like champagne but with a decided kick.

Someone told her it was called Falconian Ale. It was a good name for the effect it had. She felt as though she was flying. Everything between her throat and her crotch suddenly warmed quite nicely. More importantly, she didn't feel alone anymore.

• • •

Darius only searched a short time when he recalled the favored, late night hangout for a few of his crew—the Nebulae Bar. Some found their way to the establishment after the more formal welcoming events at the palace. This was the last logical place to ask about the Earther's whereabouts.

He walked down the street and smiled when sounds of singing filled the air. There was a time when he would have joined them, but that was many years and responsibilities ago.

From his position near the rear of the crowd, he heard someone in the center of it garnering attention. Amused laughs and encouraging remarks were egging someone on to greater drink.

One of the engineers noticed him and, as if an alert sounded, the crowd instantly stilled. He was confused for a moment. Even a ranking officer did not warrant
this
kind of attention, especially not during shore leave. Salutes, yes … total silence, no.

“Three cheers for Commander Starlaw,” the engineer shouted. “No driller could daunt him!”

Cries of hurrah rang out and Darius felt something in his chest tighten. He still hoped someone there might know Laurel's whereabouts. But after the initial recognition of his presence, the crew instantaneously regained their former celebratory revelry, and put their attention back to the center of the large group. He was quickly relegated to one more in their number.

Sensing something unusual was taking place, he moved toward the center of the boisterousness. Once there he understood the crew's brief acknowledgement of him, and why their attention went back to the entertainment.

An Illusion dancer with bare breasts was diverting the crew. A few of the more rowdy individuals urged the entertainer on—including the one person he'd been seeking.

I should have known.

Once again, Laurel had found her way into the hearts of his subordinates. It appeared as if she hadn't been alone or lost at all. She fit in with them, the way a fuel gauge custom fit into the side of a carbrundium engine.

He pressed forward and dodged several of his bawdier crewmembers' attempts to get him to drink. Finally, he made a space by her side.

“Laurel, are you all right?” he loudly asked as the din nearly buried his voice. “Barst, Gemma, and I have been searching for you. In our haste to see our families, we were incredibly ill-mannered. I apologize. It wasn't intentional, I assure you.”

Laurel simply shrugged. “No problem,” she responded. “A homecoming wasn't exactly where I belonged. Besides, I wasn't alone.”

Her response came a little too easily, and he doubted the truth of her words. Her voice made light of the entire night's events. Her eyes, however, were a bit cool even considering the same brisk responses she'd given of late. Where he was concerned, she either gave very frigid answers or avoided him entirely. He would have asked her more about what'd happened since landing but the drink in her hand caught his attention.

“Is that Falconian Ale?”

“That's what they tell me. It goes down smooth, what
ever
it is!”

He frowned. “How many of those have you had?”

“Five … I think.”

“Mother of Kronos … I'd better get you to the palace.”

“Why?”

“Because you're safer where I can keep an eye on you.”

“Holy crap … I thought I'd proven I can take care of
myself
. And who died and left you babysitter?” she daringly asked as she sipped more of the drink.

“
Excuse me
?” Darius was certain he'd misunderstood her amid all the merrymaking.

“Why can't I just go back to the ship? Is there some reason I have to go with
you …
back to the palace that everyone tells me
you
live in?”