Fugitive (3 page)

   "Forgive me," Drusilla said quickly. "I didn't understand."

   Though Lester seemed somewhat mollified by this explanation, Drusilla wondered if he was secretly regretting having opened his world to such a callous individual, and his next statement proved it.

   "My planet is a very peaceful one, and letting war like species visit here is sometimes… disturbing."

   Drusilla smiled. "The people of Earth have been very war-like in the past, but we're improving." Noting Lester's sidelong glance, she added, "And yes, we look pretty weird too, don't we?"

   "You are very odd," Lester agreed. "Your skin is strangely white, and that peculiar growth from your heads looks untidy." Apparently determined to remain diplomatic, he smiled disarmingly and said, "I'm sure we Baradans appear strange to you, as well."

   "A little," Drusilla agreed. "Tell me something; if this is such a peaceful planet, why does the house have to be so secure?"

   Lester laughed musically. "We did that so visitors would feel safe in coming here. It really wasn't neces sary. There is nothing to fear."

   "No thieves or murderers?"

   "No," Lester said firmly. "And we have no weapons either."

   Drusilla nodded. "Yes, I knew about the weapons ban. It's nice to know there aren't any guns here. There aren't many places that can say that."

   Lester's smile, though peculiar, was undoubtedly rueful. "It is very sad to think that the inhabitants of so many worlds can't get along with one another."

   "But you don't get along with eltrans very well, do you?"

   Lester shrugged his shoulders in a jerky gesture—a movement that suggested it wasn't natural for him. "We manage to coexist," he said simply. "They tend to keep to themselves most of the time. It is only when they venture nearer to our homes that we notice them at all. The lakes, which they inhabit, are further inland, and most Baradans prefer to live near the shore, where the fuuslak plants grow." Gesturing toward the tangled path that lay ahead, he added, "This lake house is very remote."

   As Drusilla was soon to learn. She probably would have been very tired—not to mention lost—if she'd attempted the journey on foot. There would be no ques tion of making a quick run to the store for anything she might have forgotten. She hoped that the house was well-provisioned because Lester hadn't loaded anything but her own belongings onto his old truck. Looking down at her bag of bolaka, Drusilla wondered if she should have gotten two triplaks' worth. Perhaps she would need to visit the market after all. "Um, what about food?" she ventured.

   "The house has a very large stasis unit," he said proudly. "You will have more than enough for your entire stay."

   Looking at Lester, who appeared to be little more than skin and bones, Drusilla wondered how much someone like that would consider enough. She was frugal with food, but
still…
"How much is that?"

   "We have researched your species," he said with a quick nod and another face-splitting smile. "We Baradans eat only fruit, but we know that you Terrans eat a variety of foods. There is enough stored there to feed four Terrans for six months. You will only be here for three, but if there is anything else you need, there is a comlink. You have only to ask, and it will be brought to you."

   And would no doubt be included on the bill with a vengeance. Ralph hadn't told her what all of this would cost, but Drusilla suspected that he planned to make it all back on the paintings he sold. These must be some really spectacular birds, she thought idly.

   "What do I do if I get sick or hurt?"

   "The Terran trader who delivered the food included medical supplies, which are in the house if you have need of them," Lester said. "There are many healers on Barada, though I do not believe any of them have ever treated anyone from Earth."

   "My, how reassuring," Drusilla commented.

   Lester went on as though he hadn't heard her, making Drusilla wonder if perhaps sarcasm was as foreign a concept on Barada as war. "We have contact with other worlds, and what our healers don't know, they can always ask. But I will bring this to the attention of the local doctor."

   "Well, I'm pretty sure I won't need anything," she said, hoping she wasn't jinxing herself, "but it's nice to know you're prepared."

   "It would be very bad for business if our first Terran visitor were to die of some trivial malady or injury during her stay." Eyeing her curiously, he added, "You seem healthy enough, but your skin is so pale."

   "Don't worry," she said, laughing. "My pale skin isn't the result of some lingering illness. It's natural."

   Lester looked at her doubtfully. "Perhaps our research into your species wasn't as thorough as it should have been."

   "I'm sure I'll be fine," Drusilla said, though she couldn't help but wonder if Baradan medicine might kill rather than cure her. She'd been to several different planets over the years—and had never been sick—but none that hadn't been frequented by Terrans for some time. She reassured herself with the knowledge that Ralph would never intentionally put her at risk and he always had her best interests at heart—
nearly
always— but he might not have fully understood the details.

   Leaning forward as the truck broke free of the jungle and the house finally came into view, Drusilla sincerely hoped that the birds would make it all worthwhile— Ralph had been quite sure they would, but he'd been wrong before.

   Unfortunately, neither of them knew anything about the cats.

Chapter 2

MANX WATDHED WITH A GRIM SMILE AS THE BATTERED OLD truck drove up to the house, undoubtedly bringing another tourist. He hoped this one's stay would be short, but having endured far greater hardships since his escape from slavery, Manx knew he could handle it indefinitely. The house was nice, of course, and though he'd been secretly living there off and on ever since it was built, roughing it came easily to him. He was relatively safe on Barada—he'd never been to a more peaceful world— and probably could have come out of hiding; however, though the natives might not sell him out to the Nedwut bounty hunters, they wouldn't be able to stop them from killing him either.

   He wasn't well-armed; Manx's only weapons were his knife and bow, neither of which would be an adequate defense against the Nedwut pulse rifles. His only saving grace had been his highly developed sense of smell— so far, he'd always been able to pick up their peculiar stench quickly enough to keep out of their range.

   Still, that last band had nearly had him until he'd stowed away on the ship bound for Barada Seven. Stealth was another of his particular talents; Manx could sneak up on any animal without startling it, and while he had managed to keep himself fed in that manner, it was also quite useful when attempting to board a ship he had no business being on.

   Peering around the trunk of a tree, he watched as the visitor got out of the truck, his green, feline eyes widening as he noted the feminine form. His heart nearly stopped as he first thought she might be one of his own kind, but as she turned in his direction, he saw that her eyes were not those of a Zetithian, and his heart sank. In all the years since his planet was destroyed, he'd never seen another Zetithian, but he had never encountered a species like this one either. She was much more inter esting than the ugly orange locals, and he watched, spell bound, as she paused to push a stray tendril of dark red hair back from her face. Small and slender, she had an air of fragility about her that instantly made Manx want to protect her from… anything. He was standing upwind from her, so he couldn't judge her by her scent, but he found her appearance pleasing. Perhaps he wouldn't disappear into the jungle just yet.

   She smiled at the Baradan, revealing lovely white teeth, but no fangs, and, unlike his, her ears were rounded at the tips. No, she wasn't Zetithian; but there was something about her…

   Obviously, she was less fragile than she seemed because she hoisted a heavy bag onto her shoulder with no difficulty whatsoever. The Baradan was insisting that she allow him to carry it, but she seemed capable enough, ignoring his protests as she walked toward the house. Stubborn, Manx decided. He liked that in a female. Wetting his lips with his tongue, he wondered how she would taste, and more than that, how she would
smell. He hadn't breathed in the aroma of a female i
n several years—not one that aroused him, anyway. It took the scent of feminine desire to arouse a Zetithian male, but Manx was slightly different. He'd forgotten which planet he'd been living on at the time, but he'd learned something then that his brethren never had; he could hold the scent of a woman in his head long enough to maintain his erection and bring himself to climax— whether she was still with him or not. Studying this new visitor carefully, he knew she was physically appealing, but would her aroma be as intoxicating?

   Revising his original wish, he hoped her stay there would be a long one. He wanted to learn the answers to those questions before she left.

   Moving silently through the trees, Manx headed for the lake, but then stopped short as he remembered Zef. The eltran might give him away—might tell her about him, warn her that he was there in the trees, watching her. Manx was fairly certain that Zef had told no one else of his existence, but Zef was an odd creature; who knew what he might decide to do? And this woman might be one who would betray him to the Nedwuts if they ever came looking for him. Not intentionally, perhaps, but the hairy, snarling beasts could be very intimidating. Would she be able to stand up to them?

   Manx knew he couldn't risk it, not for her safety or his own. With a resigned sigh, he melted into the jungle.

***

Drusilla stood in the center of the house, viewing her surroundings with awe. "This is a very nice place you've got here, Lester," she said, turning on her heel as she took it all in. "All I expected was a little cabin in the woods—
nothing
like this!"

   "You did not believe the advertisement?" Lester said with surprise. "We included many images."

   "I never actually saw it," Drusilla admitted. "Someone else made the arrangements for me." All the comforts and amenities, Ralph had said. "He wasn't kidding when he said it had everything—including canvases. There must be at least fifty of them," she added with a gesture toward the stack just inside the door. Ralph obviously had great expectations for her visit. She wondered what else he'd had delivered.

   "We did our best to incorporate things that many species would find necessary," he said. Leaning forward to peer at her through his bulbous eyes, he made a sweeping gesture with a blurry wave of his hands. "Is there anything missing?"

   "Just the private landing pad for a starship," Drusilla said absently. "Haven't got a ship, though, so I don't think I'll complain." She gazed up at the soaring, vaulted ceiling, thinking that a much taller humanoid than she would have found it accommodating, and a giraffe would have been tickled pink with it. The living room was palatial, with numerous comfortable-looking sofas and chairs interspersed with a few highly polished tables accented with vases of fresh flowers. The wall facing the lake was transparent and made her feel as if she was right out on the water, rather than the actual thirty meters away. The kitchen contained all of the usual appliances, plus some equipment Drusilla had never seen before, and, as promised, the stasis unit had enough food stored in it for a small army. The huge bathroom was sparkling clean, with beautiful brass fixtures and a tub that would have accommodated a dolphin. There was also a shower that sprayed water into a shallow wading pool, along with a sonic shower for the more hirsute clientele. There were four bedrooms with the largest, softest, most luxurious beds imaginable, complete with ceiling fans. The front windows looked out into the trees and the patio boasted a built-in grill with an elegant table and chairs under a tented roof as well as two capacious hot tubs—one full of water, the other filled with hot, bubbling mud.

   Having viewed the interior, Lester led the way through the door to the deck, and from there she looked down on the sparkling lake, complete with a dock and a pontoon boat big enough for a party. There was even a sliding board for jumping into the lake.

   "Most everything is voice-activated, and there is a droid and a computer to manage the house, but I will show you how everything operates before I leave," Lester said helpfully. "If you ever have any questions, there are instructions you can read, or you can use the comlink to call me."

   Drusilla was still gazing out over the lake as he spoke, and she nodded absently, having just seen a bird skim ming the water, searching for fish. She blinked, scarcely believing her eyes as another swooped in to follow the first.
"Oh my God,"
she whispered hoarsely. "They
can't
be real!"

   Lester seemed taken aback by her comment and peered at her curiously, tilting his head to one side while his forked tongue flicked in a nervous gesture. "Real? But, of course they are real! Why would you think otherwise?"

   "That's the sort of question a person asks when they think they may have just died and gone to heaven, Lester."

   The birds were huge—with a two-meter wingspan and legs easily another meter in length—but that wasn't what made them so remarkable. They were every bit as orange as Lester was, with sparkling gold crests like a cockatoo and bills similar to a pelican's, but far more streamlined and graceful.
"Beautiful,"
she whispered.

   Lester took a step backward as though determined to distance himself from what might be contagious insanity. "You think you have
died?"

   "Not really, Lester," Drusilla said with a smile. "It's just one of those Terran expressions that no one else seems to understand." She recalled saying something similar on another planet known for its birds, and her driver had taken her directly to a hospital—had her checked in and everything before she realized it wasn't a hotel. Gesturing toward the lake, she added, "It's just that those birds are about the most beautiful I've ever seen—and I've seen quite a few."