Cherryh, C J - Alliance-Union 08 (84 page)

She went to her room to change. And sat down on the bed, wishing she had left the cabinet alone and knowing she was in trouble.

Bad trouble. Because she was good at saying no to herself when she saw a reason for it... but it got harder and harder to think of the reasons not to do what she wanted, because when she did refuse she got mad, and when she got mad that feeling was there.

She went and read Base One . . . long, long stretches of the trivial housekeeping records Ari senior had generated, just the way they themselves were doing, until she ran them past faster and faster. Who
cared
whether Ari senior had wanted an order of tomatoes on the 28th September?

She thought about the tape library, about pulling up one of the Recommendeds and getting started with it. And finally thought that was probably the thing to do.

"Sera." It was Florian's voice through the Minder. "Excuse me. I'm doing the list. Do you want anything from Housekeeping?"

Bother and damnation.

"Just send it." A thought came, warm and tingly, and very, very dangerous. Then she said, deliberately, knowing it was stupid: "And come here a minute. My office."

"Yes, sera."

Stupid,
she said to herself.
And cruel. It's
mean
to do, dammit. Make up something else. Send him off on a job.

God. . . .

She thought about Ollie. The way she had thought about him all afternoon. Ollie with maman. Ollie when he had looked young and maman had. Maman had never had to be lonely. . . while Ollie was there. And Ollie never minded.

"Sera?" Florian said, a real voice, from the doorway.

"Log-off," she told Base One, and turned her chair around, and got up. "Come on in, Florian. —What's Catlin doing?"

"Studying. We have a manual to do. Just light tape. It—isn't something you need to Super, —is it? Should I stop her?"

"No. It's all right. Is it something really urgent?"

"No."

"Even if you were late? Even if you didn't get to it?"

"No, sera. They said—when we could. I think it would be all right. What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to come to my room a minute," she said, and took him by the hand and walked him down the hall to her bedroom.

And shut the door once they were inside and locked it.

He looked at that and at her, concerned. "Is there some trouble, sera?"

"I don't know." She put her hands on his shoulders. Carefully. He twitched, hands moved, just a little defensive reaction, even if he knew she was going to do it. Uneasiness at being touched, the way he had reacted with Maddy once. "Is that all right? Do you mind that?"

"No, sera. I don't mind." He was still disturbed. His breathing got faster and deeper as she ran her hands down to his sides, and walked around behind him, and around again. Maybe he thought it was some kind of test. Maybe he understood. Another twitch, when she touched his chest.

She knew better. That was the awful thing. She was ashamed of herself all the way. She was afraid for Catlin and for him and none of it mattered, not for a moment.

She took a hard grip on his shoulder, friend-like. "Florian. Do you know about sex?"

He nodded. Once and emphatically.

"If you did it with me, would Catlin be upset?"

A shake of his head. A deep breath. "Not if you said it was right."

"Would
you
be upset?"

Another shake of his head. "No, sera."

"Are you sure?"

A deep nod. Another breath. "Yes, sera." Another. "Can I go tell Catlin?"

"Now?"

"If it's going to be a while. She'll worry. I think I ought to tell her."

That was fair. There were complications in everything. "All right," she said. "Come right back."

He left sera to sleep, finally—he had slept a little while, but sera was restless. Sera said she was a little uncomfortable, and he could go back and sleep in his own bed, she was fine, she just wanted to sleep now and she wasn't used to company.

So he put his pants on, but he was only going to bed, so he carried the rest, and slipped out and shut the door.

But Catlin's room had the light on, and Catlin came out into the hall.

He stopped dead still. He wished he had finished dressing.

She just stood there a moment. So he walked on down as far as her room, past his own.

"All right?" she asked.

"I think so," he said. Sera was in a little discomfort, he had hurt sera, necessarily, because sera was built that way: sera said go on, and she had been happy with him, overall. He hoped. He truly hoped. "Sera said she wanted to sleep, I should go to bed. I'll do the manual tomorrow."

Catlin just looked at him, the way she did sometimes when she was confused, gut-deep open. He did not know what to say to her. He did not know what she wanted from him.

"How did it feel?"

"Good," he said on an irregular breath. Knowing then what he was telling her and how her mind had been running and was running then. Partners. For a lot of years. Catlin was curious. Some things went past her and she paid no attention. But if Catlin was interested this far, Catlin wanted to figure it out, the same way she would take a thing apart to understand it.

She said finally—he knew she was going to say—: "Can you show me? You think sera would mind?"

It was not wrong. He would have felt a tape-jolt about it if it were. He was tired. But if his partner wanted something, his partner got it, always, forever.

"All right," he said, trying to wake himself up and find the energy. And came into her room with her.

He undressed. So did she—which felt strange, because they had always been so modest, as much as they could, even in the field, and just not looked, if there was no cover.

But he was mostly the one who was embarrassed, because he had always had sex-feelings, he understood that now—while Catlin, who was so much more capable than he was in a lot of ways, missed so much that involved what sera called flux-values.

"Bed," he said, and turned back the covers and got under, because it was a little cold; and because bed was a comfortable, resting kind of place, and he knew Catlin would feel more comfortable about being up against him skin against skin in that context.

So she got in and lay on her side facing him, and got up against him when he told her she should, and relaxed when he told her to, even when he put his hand on her side and his knee between hers. "You let me do everything first," he said, and told her there was a little pain involved, but that was no more than a don't-react where Catlin was concerned. You didn't surprise her in things like that.

"All right," she said.

She
could
react, he found that out very fast, with his fingers.

He stopped. "It gets stronger. You want to keep going with this? Does that feel all right?"

She was thinking about it. Breathing hard. "Fine," she decided.

"You let that get started again," he said, "then you do the same with me. All right? Just like dancing. Variations. All right?"

She drew a deep, deep breath, and she took his advice, until he suddenly felt himself losing control. "Ease up," he said. "Stop."

She did. He managed all right then, finding it smoother with her than with sera—but of course it would be. Catlin would listen, even when it was hard to listen, and he had a far better idea this time what he was doing.

He warned her of things. She was as careful with him as he was with her, not to draw a surprise reaction: he had more confidence in her in that way too.

She did not put a mark on him. Sera had, a lot of them.

He finished; and said, out of breath: "Most I can do, Catlin. Sorry. Second round for me. I'm awfully tired."

She was quiet a minute, out of breath herself. "That was all right." In the thoughtful way she had when she approved of something.

He hugged her, on that warm feeling. She didn't always understand why he did things like that. He didn't think she had understood this time, just that it was temporary reflex, a sex thing, but when he kissed her on the forehead and said he had better get back to his own bed:

"You can stay here," she said, and sort of fitted herself to him puzzle-fashion and gave him a comfortable spot it was just easier not to leave.

They had to get up before sera anyway.

Ari woke up at the Minder-call, remembered what she had done last night, and lay there for a minute remembering.

A little scared. A little sore. It had not been quite like the tapes—like real-life, a little awkward. But someone had said—the tape, she thought—that happens; even sex takes practice.

So they were twelve pushing thirteen real hard. Which was young. Her body wasn't through growing, Florian's wasn't. She knew that made a difference.

The tape had said so. "Does Ari have any reference on sex?" Ari asked

Base One.

But Base One only gave her the same thing it had always given, and she had read that so often she had it memorized.

She had been irresponsible, completely, last night, that was what kept eating at her. She could have hurt them, and the worst thing was she still could: this morning she was still on, —a whole lot cooler and calmer, but sex was just like the tape, hard to remember what it felt like the minute it was over, a damn cheat, leaving just a curiosity, something you kept picking at like a fool picking at a scab to see if it hurt—again.

It was hard to remember a whole lot of things when
that
got started.

Like responsibility. Like people you cared about.

Like who
you
were.

Ari senior was right. It messed up your thinking. It
could
take over. Real easy.

Sex is when you're the most vulnerable you'll ever be. Brains is when you're least.

Damn those shots! They're Working me, that's what they're doing, they're Working me and I can't stop it, Dr. Ivanov can pull my license if I don't take them, and I know what they're doing, dammit!

That stuff is still in my bloodstream. I can still feel it. Hormones gone crazy.

And I still want to pull Florian in and try it again like a damn fool.

Fool, fool, fool, Ari Emory!

"Are you all right?" she cornered Florian to ask, before breakfast, in the hallway. Carefully.
Care
about things. It was the only antidote.

"Yes, sera," Florian said, looking anxious—perhaps for being pulled alone out of the kitchen and far down the hall and backed against the wall, perhaps thinking they were going to go through it again.

Calm down. Don't confuse him. You've done enough, fool. She could hear maman, could hear maman clear when she did something stupid—
Dammit, Ollie!
"You're sure. I want you not to try to make me feel good, Florian. If I did something wrong, tell me."

"I'm fine." He took a deep breath. "But, sera, —Catlin and I—she—I— Sera, I slept with her last night. We—did sex too. It felt all right—then. It
was
all right, —wasn't it?"

Surge of hormones.
Bad
temper. Panic. She found her breath coming hard and folded her arms and turned away, looking at the stonework floor a moment until she could jerk herself sideways and back to sense.

Stupid, Ari. Real stupid. Look what's happened.

She's his partner, not me, what in hell am I being jealous for? I did a nasty thing to him and he doesn't even know it's not right.

Oh, dammit, Ari. Dammit!

Flux. That's what sex sets loose. A hell of a flux-state. Hormones. That's what's going on with me.

I wonder if I could write
this
up for one of Dr. Dietrich's damn papers.

"But she's all right," she said, looking around at Florian—at a painfully worried Florian. "She is all right this morning, isn't she? I mean, you don't think it's messed anything up between you.
That's
what I'm worried about."

His face lightened, a cloud leaving. "Oh, no, sera. No. Just—we got to thinking about it— Sera, Catlin was just curious. You know how she is. If it was there she wants to know about it, and if it involved me—she—really needs to know, sera, she really needs to understand what's going on." The frown came back. "Anything I do—is her, too. It has to be."

She put her hand on his arm, took his hand and squeezed it hard. "Of course it does. It's all right. It's
all right,
Florian. I'm only upset if you two are. I don't blame you. I don't care what you did. I only worry I could have hurt you."

"No, sera." He believed everything. He would do anything. He looked terribly relieved. She took his arm through hers and held on to his hand, walking him back down the hall toward the kitchen where rattles and closings of doors said Catlin was busy.

"But Catlin's not as social as you. And sex is a hell of a jolt, Florian, an awful hormone load."
But it's the flux-values it goes crazy with. Flux and feedback loop, brain and hormones interacting. That's what's going on with me. CIT processing. The whole environment fluxing in values. Even Florian doesn't flux-think that heavy.
"It didn't bother her—really?"

"I really don't think so. She said it—was sort of like a good workout."

A little laugh got away from her, just surprise on top of the angst, that left her less worried and more so, in different directions. "Oh, damn. Florian. I don't know everything I ought to. I wish I was azi, sometimes. I do.
Keep
an eye on Catlin. If her reactions aren't up to par, or yours aren't, I want to know it, I want to know it right then—call me if you have to stop an Exercise to do it, hear?"

"Yes, sera."

"I just worry—just worry because I'm responsible, that's all. And experimeriting around with us makes me nervous, because I can't go and ask, I just have to try things and I really need you to tell me if I do wrong with you. You object, hear me, you
object
if you think I'm doing something I shouldn't."

"Yes, sera." Automatic as breathing.

They reached the kitchen. Catlin was setting out plates. Catlin looked up at them, a little query in the tension between her brows.