Brim shook his head gloomily. "I doubt if I'll have to bother you, Nadia. This will be the first time we've been together for a lot of years."
"Good," Tissaurd laughed. "She'll be all the more appreciative once she's on her back. And for xaxt sake, remember to take your time!" Then she smiled. "Now get yourself over there and say hello so you can introduce me."
Margot met his eyes only moments later, and almost instantly, the one-time lovers were hand in hand, as if they had been apart no more than a few short days. "Wilf," she whispered breathlessly, "thank the Universe. I was so afraid you might not come."
"But you sent a message," Brim said. "How could I ignore something like that from you?"
Margot dropped her eyes to the floor. "It took more than a year for me to discover why you'd broken Rogan's back," she said. "I must have seemed like some sort of animal, lying there naked on the floor while he offered you my body if you'd join the League."
"You were too far gone with TimeWeed to know anything about it," Brim replied, trying desperately to force the abominable scene from his mind. "And what I did to your husband afterward,"
he added through pain-clenched teeth, "was the product of... well... simple insanity, I suppose. I hardly remember doing it." He drew her closer. "You seem to be different now," he added after a long silence.
"I am," she answered with a sad little nod, "but only to the extent that I described the last time we met." She shook her head. "Don't let it fool you, Wilf," she warned. "When I need it, I need it.
Withdrawal symptoms are disastrous—and they occur almost immediately following the first cravings...."
Suddenly, Tissaurd appeared beside them. "Skipper," she interrupted with a guileless smile, "I can't wait forever for an introduction."
Frowning, Margot turned to glance at the tiny officer's intrusion, then abruptly went rigid, as if something had momentarily startled her. "Hello," she said warily, brushing an offending lock of blond hair back in place.
"Margot—er... Princess Effer'wyck LaKarn," Brim stammered, "may I present Nadia Tissaurd, First Lieutenant of His Magnificence's starship R.F.S. Starfury?"
"Oh, yes, it is R.F.S., isn't it?" Margot remarked, her eyes narrowing as if she were suddenly facing some sort of menace. "Well, it pleases me to meet you, Nadia,'' she replied, extending her gloved hand to be kissed in the Grand Manner. "I'd heard you were all Fluvannians now," she said.
"Not Fluvannians, mercenaries," Tissaurd corrected, looking up at Margot with a little smile. She took the proffered hand and shook it politely, then for a few moments, she seemed to freeze time while she peered deeply into the Princess's eyes.
Suddenly Margot blanched as if she had been physically penetrated. "W-what have you done in my head?" she demanded, her eyes widening with something that looked a lot like fear.
Tissaurd slowly relaxed like a small viper uncoiling. "Done, Princess?" she asked with a malign little smile that Brim had never encountered before. "I don't understand." Abruptly she stepped back and resumed her original artless pose—except for her eyes. They had taken on a look of implacable anger.
Margot impulsively brought her fingertips to her lips. "Well..." she stammered, clearly at a loss of words.
"No matter," Tissaurd continued, raising a hand in gentle approbation. "Your Highness," she said, "it has truly been an honor to make your acquaintance, and I look forward to the next time we meet."
Then, turning to Brim: "Captain, I shall await your summons early tomorrow afternoon." Before either could utter a word of reply, her tiny form had disappeared in the evergrowing crowd of revelers.
The two stood in relative silence for long moments before Margot recovered sufficiently to speak. "That woman is your First Lieutenant?" she demanded.
Brim nodded. "She's the best, so far as I'm concerned."
"But, do you trust her—really?"
"Often with my life," Brim replied.
"That may someday turn out to be a foolish decision, Wilf Brim," she warned quietly.
"I noticed a few sparks fly when you two got within firing range," Brim joked in a lame attempt to defuse the ticklish situation.
"Sparks flew on both sides," Margot said, appearing to quickly recoup her aplomb. "An interesting one, that Tissaurd," she mused. "She might be good at what she does around a starship, but were I you, I'd never take my eyes off her."
Brim grimaced. "I... ah... will try to... keep that in mind, Margot," he equivocated.
"Well, no matter, Wilf," Margot said after a few more moments of silence. "I certainly have no business criticizing your crew in the first place. It's just that I should certainly hate to have anything untoward happen to you," she added, placing an arm around his waist. "Especially now that we will finally have some access to each other after all the years of separation."
Brim felt her breast pressing his arm and took a deep breath. "Margot," he sighed, "what will that access do to us? Haven't we been through enough pain over each other?"
"Pain, like gratification, is a part of life, my once and future lover," she whispered, guiding him toward the door. "I think Mustafa decreed romantic dancing in a number of his ballrooms. Let's see what threads of pleasure we can pick up after all the years we've been apart."
Immediately, Brim felt the old fear of dancing suddenly rise in his chest. Then he recalled the delight he'd felt while Tissaurd matched his artless shuffle. She'd even seemed to enjoy it! He shrugged—why not? "I'd love to, Margot," he said while his hands begin to warm all by themselves. Less than a metacycle later, they decided to share the night.
CHAPTER 7
Command
Brim awoke in a lavish suite belonging to one of Magor's larger downtown hotels. Early dawn softly illuminated the room from behind an ornate shade and Margot's golden curls tickled his ear as she slept peacefully in the crook of his arm. Only a slight odor of Time Weed permeated the air, she had taken care of her addiction in an adjoining bedroom.
Gently easing her head to the pillow, he sat up and regarded her luxuriant form beneath the stained silken bed linen. In many ways, she was even more beautiful than she had been years in the past.
Heavier, of course, but somehow all the more desirable for it. And she'd made love as ingeniously and strenuously as ever. Universe, had she! He found himself quite tender following her spectacularly uninhibited ministrations. She indeed had made it a night to remember, almost as though she were trying to atone for the missing years.
Yet in the light dawn, he realized that something had been subtly absent during their lovemaking.
Oh, his lust had been as well slaked, no doubt about that. And unless the Princess-cum-Baroness had lately become a talented actress in her own right, so had hers. Nevertheless, something had been missing. He couldn't quite focus in on its exact nature; but instinctively he understood it was quite central to the passion they once shared. And without it, he found a strange void in his soul that in the past would have been fulfilled during their lovemaking.
What was it?
Lack of sleep benumbed his concentration as he struggled to somehow characterize the emptiness. Was it even real, or had he dreamed of a reunion with Margot for so many years that nothing could live up to his expectations? And for that matter, why was Tissaurd so skeptical about the whole thing? Suddenly nothing made sense anymore, and the comfortable fulfillment he had anticipated only metacycles before was quickly turning to bewildered misgivings.