Sometime later, he found himself in the main house. It was dark. Kea had not eaten, nor gone back to his room. He had tried to be invisible, especially to any of the Bargetas. A couple of the retainers asked if he needed anything. Kea shook his head. He saw one woman's eyes soften. She started to say something, but just put her hand on his arm. Then she looked frightened and hurried away.
He didn't know what he would do next. How could he stay out of Tamara's way for the rest of the summer, a summer that had gone from paradise to purgatory? He couldn't just leave. Austin was his friend. All he wanted was a secret, hidden place, to crawl into and lick the gaping tear Tamara had ripped.
He heard laughter. Austin. "Oh dear, oh dear," he said. "Was he seriousT‘
"If not, he's the best japer on Mars." Tamara.
"I guess it shouldn't be unexpected," another voice said thoughtfully. Bargeta senior.
"I'm sorry, Father," Tamara said. "But I thought—"
"You needn't bother with an apology," her father interrupted. "I'm hardly concerned that you found the rustic to be handsome. Nor how you chose to scratch an itch. It would be most hypo-critical for me to suggest my daughter behave as if she were a Renunciant, when we know the family has always had a taste for the... rawer side of life, eh?"
There was laughter. Shared laughter. Family laughter at the casual mention of a minor secret.
"So it's my fault." Austin.
"Not really," his father explained. "You've just been reminded of a lesson you perhaps let slip from your mind, when you rewarded this young man's assistance by letting him into your life. But it's not a new lesson. Remember how hard it was when you realized your nannies weren't Bargetas and had to be treated a certain way? Or the children we allowed the servants to have, so you'd have playmates, and how you cried when it was time for them to be sent away? So don't chastise yourself, Austin. It's a lesson we have to learn and relearn."
"So what do we do?" Tamara. "I mean, I can see that letting Kea sulk around for the rest of the summer like some moonstruck swain out of a poem will be really dullity."
"Don't worry," Bargeta senior said. "Perhaps he'll simply vanish. Or jump off a cliff. Or sail off into the sunset. Moonstruck yokels do things like that."
The clink of glasses as someone poured a drink. Then, Austin's voice: "Actually, Father, when you stop to think about it, this whole thing is very funny. Isn't it?"
Tamara's titter. A chuckle from Bargeta. And then all three of them were laughing very hard. Harsh, unrelenting laughter. Kea heard no more. Their mirth vanished. As did the Bargetas and Yarmouth itself. The only thing in the entire universe was a tattered, yellowing PLACES AVAILABLE notice, on a spacecrew hiring hall.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
THE PINLIGHT WAS a frantic red pulse on the monitor. "There it is again, Murph!" Vasoovan twittered. "At one o'clock."
Captain Murphy "Murph" Selfridge squeezed into the navigation cubicle. He was a big, formerly athletic man, gone to seed. He bent over his first officer. The light pulsed back at him. Kea Richards watched his commander's broad features take on an oxlike look of puzzlement as he studied the winking light. "I don't get it," the captain finally said. "Same damn coordinates?"
"Same damn coordinates, Murph," Vasoovan said.
"Sure you didn't make some kinda screwup?" Murph asked. "Maybe you better run it through again."
The Osiran sighed the martyred sigh of the constantly incompetent. "If you say so, Captain," she twittered. Slender pink tendrils moved swiftly over the com unit. Touching sensor pads. Spinning dials.
Richards and the two scientists kept silent. Their card hands forgotten on the tiny rec table of the cramped instant-bucket-of-bolts some corporate sales veep had misnamed Destiny I. There was no Destiny II. The first model was so poorly designed and built that only the ten ships had been completed. And those had been sold for kiloweight. Richards's skinflint company had bought two and put them into service. For the past five E-months, it had taken all of Richards's skills as chief engineer to keep the Destiny I in one piece and headed for the mysterious signals emanating from Alva Sector.
Vasoovan rebooted. The monitor blanked, then came back on. The light was still blinking. But this time at six o'clock. "What the hell's goin‘ on, Vasoovan?" Murph demanded. "How come the sucker keeps movin' around on us?"
"Don't blame me," Vasoovan protested, anger building. "I just do my job. Same as anybody else." She turned her large oval face full on the captain. Vasoovan had the permanent grin of a carnivore. Even after five months in close proximity with the ET, Richards found the face unsettling. He watched two of Vasoovan's eyestalks check out Murph for signs of argument. The other two craned over Murph's head to study Richards and the scientists.
One scientist pretended not to notice. She stroked a straying dark curl from her eyes. The other—the man—turned his handsome profile away. But Kea stared back. He knew better than to give the Osiran an edge. "What're you looking at, Richards?" Vasoovan's twittering was shrill.
"Apparently not very much," Kea said. "In my book, watching my captain and his first officer doing tight twirls around their backsides hardly qualifies as entertainment."
"You've got no cause to gripe," Murph said. "You're getting triple time for this trip, with some pretty hefty bonuses all around if we come up with something."
Richards pointed at the wandering light on the nav board. "If that's our bonus, Captain," he said, "I wouldn't be making plans for any big spending when we get back. From where I sit, the company's money is pretty damn safe."
"Come on, Kea," the captain urged. "Let's not be negative. We got a good team, here. And, by god, we're gonna take this thing all the way over the top."
Kea shrugged. "Sure, Murph. Whatever you say."
"It's their fault," Vasoovan said, indicating the scientists. ‘This whole thing was their idea. Know what I think? I'll tell you what I think—"
Dr. Castro Fazlur—chief scientist of the expedition—broke in: "It actually believes it has a thought process, Ruth. Amusing, isn't it?" He crooked his lips into a smile of nonamusement.
Dr. Ruth Yuen, Fazlur's assistant and lover, ducked her pretty head. Trying to stay out of the line of fire. "Oh, come now, Ruth. Be honest," Fazlur pressed. Handsome gray-fox features pushed forward. "Don't you find it tragic that the only sign of allegedly intelligent life mankind has found is this tentacled thing?"
"Watch it, Fazlur," Vasoovan hissed.
The scientist ignored the warning. "I'd say it was the eye-stalks," Fazlur said. "What IQ exists in an Osiran is mostly consumed controlling that primitive biological function. This would explain its limited language capabilities. You will note, Ruth, dear, that it speaks the argot of a common ship rat. Obviously, its mental powers are too taxed to achieve a civilized person's vocabulary."
Vasoovan's features turned from pink to parboiled. A powerfully muscled tentacle reeled out, searching for a heavy object to hurl. Then snatched back as the captain slapped at it. "Come on, guys. Lighten up. I got enough problems without you piling on more." Murph pleaded.
It was at this point that Kea felt a warm, shapely foot press against his calf. It rose up his leg, caressing higher... higher. Ruth's dark eyes flashed. A red tongue tip licked an upper lip. It was that Tamara kind of look. Suddenly, the already-cramped world of Destiny I slammed around him. He tossed in his cards. "I'm going to catch up on some sleep," he said. "When you figure out where we're going... be sure to wake me." He rose, avoiding Ruth's hurt look, and stalked out. The too-familiar sound of quarreling voices faded as he made his way down the corridor.