Venus Rising (21 page)

Tarik was there in Service uniform, shaved
and with his hair freshly trimmed. He was so handsome her breath
caught in her throat at the sight of him. He came to her at once
and took her hand.

“You look,” he said, “like a wealthy and very
elegant Demarian woman.”

“I feel most unnatural.”

“I remember a simple silver-gray robe.” His
night-blue eyes twinkled. “A robe you did not keep on for very
long.”

“This one would be more difficult for you to
remove.” Her heart was thudding hard in her chest. How she wished
he could unclasp the red stone brooch at her left shoulder, unfold
the fabric and unfasten all the clips and clasps and loops of her
gown to free her from its weight, and then take her hand again and
lead her out into the garden, under the trees, amongst the
low-growing flowers and the sweet-scented leaves. When he smiled at
her, she knew he felt the same way.

He touched her lips with his fingertips. The
gesture was as gentle as a kiss, yet silenced anything else she
might have said, recalling her to the present, to the elderly man
who stood behind him, and to the guards waiting in the shadows of a
nearby archway. Then she remembered with a start just where they
stood, and that it was unsafe to speak too freely.

“This is Jon Tanon,” Tarik said, “my old
teacher and a dear friend. It was Jon who first awakened me to the
uses of history.”

Narisa held her breath. She hoped Tarik would
say nothing to betray his opinions about the Jurisdiction version
of history. Not with the guards standing so near. She and Tarik and
Gaidar were in enough trouble already. They didn’t need anything
else for the Assembly to blame on them. To her relief, Tarik
launched into a funny story about his school days, during which
Narisa was able to study the elderly man.

The teacher was short, plump, with white hair
thinning on top, blue eyes and a round pink face presently wreathed
in an infectious smile as he listened to Tarik’s account of his
student days.

“He never stopped asking questions. He was my
most difficult pupil,” Jon told Narisa, “and my most brilliant. I
hoped he would become a teacher himself, but Almaric wanted him to
enter the Service.”

“And see what has become of me,” Tarik said
too softly for the guards to hear.

“Never mind.” Jon Tanon laid a blue-veined
hand on Tarik’s arm. “With Almaric behind you, this trouble will
not last long. Ah, here are your parents.”

Kalina wore a black gown trimmed with silver,
similar in style to Narisa’s. On her tall, dignified figure it was
most impressive and stately. Almaric, in his black and silver
Assembly Member’s uniform, complimented his wife’s dignity.

“We are eating a little early,” Kalina said
to Narisa, “because Almaric and I are required at an official
function this evening.”

“It will offer a marvelous opportunity,”
Almaric added, “for me to speak with many of my friends. Assembly
business is so pressing, we do not often have time for informal
conversations.”

Narisa understood from this that Almaric
would spend the better part of the evening trying to convince his
fellow Assembly Members that Tarik was telling the truth. Kalina
would probably do the same with her friends. Narisa began to feel
more hopeful about Tarik’s and her own prospects.

When they sat down at the red stone table,
all six of their guards sat with them, a guard at every second
place. Narisa was deeply offended at this invasion of a private
meal, but Almaric and Kalina treated the guards as though they were
invited guests, and Tarik was a model of politeness, successfully
hiding the irritation Narisa knew he must feel.

“I know you will excuse us,” Almaric said to
the leader of the guards when the meal had ended. “Please stay here
and have all the wines and sweets you want. My servants are
available to you at any time.”

“Where are you going, sir?” inquired the
guards’ leader.

“A brief family conference before my wife and
I leave for the Assembly chambers,” Almaric told him.

“And the old man? Master Teacher, you are no
family member.” In contrast to his deferential attitude toward
Almaric, the guard looked threateningly at Jon.

“A dear friend and advisor.” Almaric took the
teacher’s arm and helped him to rise. “His knowledge of
Jurisdiction law and history will be helpful in resolving my son’s
difficulties. Jon is spending the night with us.”

“Go, then.” The leader of the guards, perhaps
thinking he had previously been too lenient with his charges, now
seemed to feel a need to assert himself. “You, Member Almaric, and
your wife, may leave the house, since it is on Assembly business,
but these other three must remain above the second floor once they
go up those stairs. No evening strolls in the garden, no wandering
around the lower levels where the outside doors are.”

“For myself,” Narisa declared, glad to rise
from the table and end the strain of sitting between two guards, “I
will be happy to stay in my room. It has been a long and tiring
day.”

They made their way back to the secure room
in Kalina’s quarters. After a quick discussion of how much Almaric
should tell his friends when meeting them at a public and official
function, Tarik’s parents left.

“And now,” Jon said, rubbing his hands
together, his pink face shining with eager anticipation, “tell me
about this new planet you have discovered. I want to know
everything.”

It was long hours later before Jon sought his
room, leaving Tarik and Narisa near exhaustion from all his
questions.

Narisa stretched in her chair. “Do you think
it was wise to tell him about the birds? I would rather have kept
their existence a secret. Talking about telepathy, even a primitive
kind like theirs, is dangerous.”

“Not when we are talking to Jon.” Tarik sat
on the carpets by Narisa’s chair. He laid one arm across her knees
in a familiar gesture that warmed her heart. “I would trust Jon
with my life.”

“You just did, my love.” He smiled at her use
of that phrase, and moved his hand along her thigh, warming her
body’s most secret places. “Do you know, Tarik, there was a time
when I thought I would never see you smile?”

“That was before I knew you could love me.”
He slid his hand higher. Narisa felt herself begin to tremble. Her
need for Tarik was like a disease, growing stronger each time he
touched her, until she would be completely consumed by it. It might
kill her before they were done with upcoming dangers. She did not
care. The joy of loving him, and knowing he loved her, was
compensation for any punishment the Assembly could have in store
for them. Tarik had filled the empty places in her heart, healed
the wounds left by the death of her family, and most important, he
had opened her mind, so she was capable of seeing and understanding
facts she had ignored or been blind to before.

“I love you, Tarik.”

“Come here.” He pulled her down into his
arms. “Lie with me again.”

She pressed herself against him where he
still sat. “Tarik, I don’t know how you are going to get me out of
this dress. I can’t do it by myself. I have never seen any garment
with so many closures and so much material.”

“I could always just pull up your skirt.” He
reached for the hem of the dress and tugged at it. Narisa tried to
stop him, laughing and slapping at his hands. He pulled again,
catching more of the fabric this time. She tipped over, rolling
onto the floor, tangled in her dark green draperies. With her bare
right arm she caught him, and he landed on top of her, laughing as
hard as she was, and buried his face in her well-covered bosom.
There he stayed for a time, caressing her through all the thick
folds of her gown while she stroked his thick hair, weaving her
fingers through the heavy strands. Their laughter gradually
dissipated as the tension between them grew.

“You may be content with this,” he whispered
after a while, “but I am not.” He unfastened the brooch at her left
shoulder and pulled the dress down rather roughly to expose her
breasts, further entrapping her left arm in twisted material.

“I can’t move,” she complained.

“You don’t need to. I’ll do it all.” He
proceeded to plunder her throat and shoulders and breasts, holding
her right hand prisoner while his strong legs straddled her, giving
her no choice but to submit to the delicious torture his lips were
inflicting on her. He began pushing the dress farther down her
body, reaching beneath it to caress her abdomen. With his mouth he
burned a path of fire upon her skin.

“Tarik, stop,” she moaned. “I heard something
tear.”

“My trousers, I’m sure.” Although his voice
was muffled against her skin, she could hear renewed laughter. But
when he spoke again, it was with anguish. “If I don’t get this
ridiculous dress off you soon, I’ll explode.”

“I know, I feel the same way,” she gasped.
“Let my hand go, my love, and I’ll help. Let me go·”

He freed her right hand, and together they
pushed and pulled at the dress until it was down around her ankles
and she could kick it away. Her shoes had been lost long before,
and now the gold band in her hair fell off, too. She wore no
undergarments, the dress being constructed so she would not need
them.

Narisa felt gloriously free, as though she
had been released from chains. She stretched luxuriously, feeling
the silky pile of the thick Demarian carpets against her back. They
made a wonderful bed, soft and firm at the same time. She stretched
again and preened, deliberately inciting Tarik to greater
passion.

The moment her dress had come off, he had
begun tearing at his uniform jacket. She reached for the waist of
his trousers and saw he had not been far wrong when he had said he
would explode. His desire for her was obviously desperate, and
knowledge of his need increased her own desire. She slid her hands
along his flanks as she slipped his trousers lower. With a deep,
rumbling growl he finished the job himself, removing trousers and
boots with one rapid motion. When he turned toward her, she caught
at him, pulling him down on top of her again, his body hot and hard
and brimming with barely contained passion.

Narisa, laughing aloud from the pleasure of
his touch, raised one knee and hip and pushed hard. She was strong,
and he had not expected the sudden movement. She managed to tumble
both of them over until she was on top of him. His shout of
surprised laughter changed to a moan of sensuous delight as he
achieved what he wanted most. She straddled him, and he became part
of her, filling her completely while he caressed her breasts until
she screamed, and screamed again in ecstasy as her moment came upon
her. He pulled her down hard to stop her mouth with his tongue, and
she lay quivering and shaking on his chest while he poured himself
into her.

Something filled Narisa’s heart as she lay in
Tarik’s loving arms, an ancient, atavistic desire that shook her to
her very roots and cut the last bonds of unquestioning loyalty to
Jurisdiction and Service.

“I love you,” Tarik whispered, kissing her
brow.

“Tarik,” she said, “I want your child.”

He tightened his arms around her and lay
without speaking for a moment. Narisa, her face hidden against his
chest, held her breath, fearing rejection. His response, when it
came, was a harsh whisper.

“Are you sure?”

“I am absolutely certain.”

“So am I.”

She raised her head to find his night-dark
eyes suspiciously moist. She kissed him quickly before her own
emotions could overcome her. It was more than a kiss they shared
then; it was a pledge.

“Until this morning,” he said after they had
both gotten their feelings in hand again, “you might have had a
chance for approval of an application to reproduce. You are the
last surviving member of your family. The Reproductive Agency would
have favored you for that. I might even have had a chance of being
approved as the father. But I doubt the Agency will be so amenable
to either of us now.”

“No,” she agreed. “After my outburst in the
Assembly chambers, my application would never be accepted for
consideration, much less approved. Jurisdiction law is wrong in
this matter, Tarik.”

“I never thought I’d hear you say that.”
There was no laughter in him now. He smoothed back her ruffled hair
with great tenderness. “What do you suggest we do, my love? I have
a few ideas of my own, but what do you say?”

“There are two possibilities,” she told him.
“We can leave the Capital as your father suggested earlier and
return to the Empty Sector. Jurisdiction law does not apply there,
and we could live as outcasts. Or, we can change the law.”

“Dangerous words. Have I done this to you?”
he wondered aloud. “Have I made you into a rebel?”

“I have never before wanted to do anything
important that was against Jurisdiction law or Service
regulations,” she replied. “Perhaps I would have come to this
myself in time, but you opened my mind, Tarik. You and the birds
and that strange, beautiful planet. There, I was forced to think in
different ways. I want your child, and if you want it, too, we will
find a way.”

“Before we can do that,” he reminded her, “we
must deal with the Cetan threat. If we survive it, and if my father
and his friends can convince the Assembly to be lenient…” His voice
slowed and stopped.

“The Cetans.” Narisa took a deep breath. “All
else must wait until they are defeated. And if they are not, if the
Jurisdiction loses the battle with them, our plans will remain
hopeless dreams.”

“Then,” Tarik told her, “we must see to it
that the Jurisdiction does not lose the battle.”

She could not get back into the green dress
alone. Tarik had to help her, with time out for much tender
laughter and many kisses and sweet, mischievous caresses, which
ignited new fires between them. At one point he pulled the dress
off her again so they could make love one more time before parting.
They never did get it adjusted so it would hang as it should.