Starfire

By

Phoebe Conn

Contents

Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Epilogue

The bestselling, award-winning author once again transcends the bounds of time and space as she takes readers over 300 light years into the future--and into a world brimming with breathtaking adventure and sizzling romance.

He is Dez Sanchez--brilliant space pilot--about to take on the greatest challenge of his career.  She is Blaise Quinn--beautiful rebel Skychild--ready to risk her life to find her vanished twin brother.  From the gentle planet Aurora to the steamy rainforests of a distant cosmos, Dez and Blaise are caught in a web of treachery, seduction and explosive passion that sweeps them beyond danger, beyond desire, and beyond the moon and stars...

Chapter One

Aurora Flight Academy, Autumn, 2258

Darkly handsome, Desmond Sanchez was accustomed to drawing admiring glances from strangers, but the looks coming his way this afternoon were as subtly disparaging as the whispers echoing off every corner. A native of Earth in a room filled with the sons and daughters of star travelers, he felt not simply uneasy but suffocated by a deadening sense of alienation. The printed program for the reception listed his name with the other new faculty members at the Aurora Flight Academy, but that did not begin to tell his story.

He was talking with the commandant’s wife, Jasmine Quinn. A typical Skychild, she was fair and slim with an elegant charm that flavored her comments and gestures. Unlike her solemn spouse, Edric, she was gracious. Her smiles contrasted sharply with the undercurrent of contempt that flowed around them, but Dez could not ignore it. Just three weeks ago he had held an enviable post as Aurora’s premier test pilot, but after nearly crashing the experimental spacecraft entrusted to his care, he had been banished to the academy. That the ship was named the Eclipse had certainly proved prophetic, for it had swept him into the darkest period of his life.

Dez set his empty glass on a passing waiter’s tray and apologized to his hostess. “You have a lovely home, Jasmine, but I’m afraid my presence is dampening the mood of your party. I hope you won’t think me rude if I excuse myself.”

Jasmine would have argued had she not been as acutely aware of the hushed murmurs his recent notoriety had inspired. “Believe me, Major, you’re not the one lacking in manners. I’ll look forward to seeing you at our next faculty gathering.”

Grateful he had made a friend, Dez managed his first smile of the day. Rather than run a hostile gauntlet through the other guests, he slipped out a side door unobserved. Eager for the silent tranquillity offered by the artfully arranged gardens surrounding the commandant’s residence, he loosened the uncomfortably stiff collar of his dress uniform and drew in a deep breath. The day was warm, but a refreshing breeze ruffled the leaves. Escaping the party hadn’t dispelled the darkness of his depression, but it had certainly lightened it a few shades.

After a moment’s hesitation, he chose the closest path. The extensive flowerbeds had been planted in ever-widening arcs with the lush blooms of each set of six semicircles producing a range of color, from red, through orange, yellow, green, blue, and violet creating an immense display of floral rainbows. The colors harmonized so perfectly, Dez found strolling through them almost as soothing as meditation. There was a lone gardener working nearby and when she looked up and smiled, he walked over to her.

“Rainbows belong in the sky, not on the ground,” he commented with a broad gesture which swept over the colorful surroundings. Then feeling very much like a fallen rainbow himself, Dez dropped his hand to his side. “I’m sorry. This is a splendid garden. I shouldn’t have criticized your work.”

The gardener brushed a long wisp of honey blond hair out of her eyes and stood to face him. Six feet in height, she was almost as tall as he. She yanked off her right glove and extended her hand. “Major Sanchez, it’s an honor to meet you, sir.”

That he would be recognized by a gardener startled Dez momentarily, but then remembering she worked at the academy, he realized she would be privy to the same insulting speculation that had made the commandant’s party such an unbearable ordeal. Her gaze was admiring, however, and he was pleased that someone remembered his former accomplishments. He took her hand. Her fingers were long and slim, the nails frosted with a shimmering pink. Her handshake was surprisingly firm. Then realizing a gardener’s grasp would scarcely be otherwise, Dez waited for her to end the exchange.

“Thank you. I didn’t realize anyone would still feel that way,” he said.

The gardener’s long-lashed eyes were more gold than green and widened slightly at his remark. “I doubt that one bad flight will permanently damage your reputation.” Noting another plant which needed her attention, she knelt and picked up her pruning shears. “Do you really feel disgraced?”

Her voice was low, with a seductive warmth that invited conversation. There was a bench a few steps away, and intrigued by her, Dez sat down, leaned forward and rested his elbows across his thighs. “It wasn’t just a bad flight,” he explained. “It was—”

The gardener’s hair was twisted atop her head in a careless knot, leaving her nape bare. She had an elegantly long neck and even in a bright yellow jumpsuit, her slender figure was delightfully feminine and enormously appealing. Completely distracted by her enticing presence, Dez longed to ease the dark burden of his memories in the warmth of her delectable flesh.

The gardener glanced over at him. “It was what?” she coaxed.

Ashamed of the erotic direction of his thoughts, Dez attempted to haul them back to the subject at hand, but unwilling to put the hideous experience into words another time, he straightened up and shook his head. “I won’t describe it again.”

Immensely intrigued, the gardener waited a few seconds and when Dez didn’t say more, she got up, took off her gloves, and joined him on the bench. “Tell me what you can,” she urged.

Surprised by her persistence, Dez stared at the attractive gardener. Obviously a Skychild, she projected an ethereal calm that was as soothing as her garden, but at the moment he needed something far more primitive. The steadiness of her amber gaze prompted him to speak. “This garden must take an enormous amount of effort to maintain. What if you were to come out here one morning and find all the plants uprooted and crushed, the faded blossoms strewn all about? How would you react?”

The gardener looked out over her well-tended beds. “Things aren’t nearly as perfect as they first appear,” she mused softly. “We’ve plants from each of Aurora’s colonies throughout Altair’s system, and while they were chosen for the brilliance of their blooms, they aren’t truly compatible. The carnivorous plants are seldom content. If they don’t eat regularly, they won’t bloom, which leaves gaping holes in the floral spectrum.”

“Is that such a tragedy?”

Amused by his question, the gardener responded with a low, musical laugh. “In my opinion it is. To answer your question, I’d be devastated if the garden were maliciously destroyed. Is that how you feel about your last flight?”

Her glance was serene, yet curious, and Dez found it impossible to look away. He had been forced to tell his story repeatedly to the engineers involved in the development of the Eclipse as well as to the officers responsible for his performance, but no one had bothered to ask how he felt. Not wanting to be sucked into that painful void, he shook his head. “Let’s just say no one ought to come that close to death. It was like being buried alive.”

Paying close attention, the gardener saw not merely a handsome pilot whose exploits she had admired, but a deeply troubled man. His dark eyes were filled with an unmistakable sheen of pain that would have frightened lesser women, but she was touched by his anguish. While the innovative technology involved in Project Eclipse was classified, that something had gone dreadfully wrong was common knowledge, as was the fact that Desmond Sanchez had been blamed. She couldn’t help but feel compassion for him.

“You didn’t want to come here, did you?” she asked.

Dez knew he ought not confide in a gardener, even one who was as pretty as one of her exotic blossoms, but having been shunned by the upper echelon of Aurora’s officers, he felt so terribly alone he didn’t care how inappropriate a companion she was, or how improbable their conversation. “I’d have rather continued being a test pilot.”

“Have you been forbidden to fly?”

“No, there aren’t any restrictions on me at all. It’s just that—”

Again Dez stopped, as though the words were im-possible to speak. The sympathetic gardener finished his sentence for him. “You’re afraid the same thing will happen again?”

Dez breathed a dejected sigh and rubbed his neck in a vain attempt to relieve the tension that had tied his muscles in knots. “The Eclipse has been cleared for flight, and despite what some feel is evidence to the contrary, doctors can’t find anything wrong with me.” He paused briefly and then, fully aware he had nothing more to lose, added the opinion the others working on Project Eclipse had stubbornly refused to accept.

“That means something else caused the problem: another ship, a beam operated from land, something. Something, or someone unknown, was flying the Eclipse the day I nearly crashed. It controlled the ship. There wasn’t anything I could do but sit there and take it. At present, I’m the only pilot qualified to fly the Eclipse, so it’s been based here temporarily. I can take it up whenever I want, but my duties at the academy won’t allow me much time for test flights.”

“You’ve a week before classes begin.”

“A week to finish the job, you mean, to get myself killed?”

Startled by the note of hostility in his voice, the gardener sat back slightly. “Are you saying someone sabotaged the Eclipse in an attempt to murder you?”

Unnerved, no matter how remote that possibility, Dez stood and took several steps away before turning back to face her. “No. The security surrounding the project was too tight, and an exceedingly thorough investigation after the disastrous flight turned up no evidence of sabotage. Besides, if I’d been the target, I could have been killed far more easily than during a test flight. Killing me wouldn’t have stopped the pro-ject, anyway. Other pilots could be trained to replace me.”

“Perhaps, but you’re clearly the best.”

Dez responded with a rueful laugh. “I was the best. No one would grant me that distinction now.”

“I just did.”

A slight smile crossed Desmond’s lips. “You have a marvelous voice. It’s as smooth as honey.”

“Thank you, but I meant what I said.”

Dez had always been popular with women, so it didn’t surprise him that this one still admired him but no gardener, and not even an exceptionally pretty one, had any influence with the officers who could so easily end his career. Having been born on Earth, he had never been fully accepted by the Skychildren who ran Aurora. Even after he had graduated first in his class from the very academy where he was now posted as an instructor, he still had to aggressively compete for each new assignment.

Unlike the other promising young officers, he had never had a mentor to provide guidance and ease his journey through Aurora’s ranks. He had been promoted entirely on his own merits. The achievement made him proud, but he couldn’t deny that except for a few brief and entirely forgettable liaisons, his life had been lonely. Still, he wasn’t prepared to play the bitter role of outcast.

“What do you know about Earth?” he asked.

Surprised by the sudden change in topic, the gardener shrugged before replying. “What everyone knows. We can all trace our origins back to Earth. This planet was chosen as the site for the academy because of its remarkable similarity to Earth. We even have a few Earth plants in the garden. Azaleas they’re called. They’re part of the violet bands.”

Dez unbuttoned his jacket and still attempting to work off tension, flexed his shoulders. “What do you know about the people?”

The gardener’s expression grew thoughtful, and she continued in the low, provocative tone that encouraged his rapt attention. “I know many are influenced by the teachings of the Paladins, an exclusively male group dedicated to preserving the old ways. They refer to us as Skychildren, the assumption being that we aren’t as fully human as those born on Earth.” The gardener lifted her chin proudly. “Are you a follower of the Paladins, Major? Do you share their prejudice that Skychildren are a different species, only slightly more valuable than androids?”

Having just left a party where he had been greeted with scorn rather than a warm welcome, Dez grew defensive. “First of all, the Paladins are historians and philosophers, not fanatics. I’ve attended their retreats and they project an aura of calm rather than maniacal zeal. Their views can’t merely be dismissed as prejudice. Those of us born on Earth don’t just look different, we are different. We’re the direct descendants of the first men to conquer space, not genetically engineered hybrids like the Skychildren. You’re man’s creation, and we’re God’s.”

The gardener had heard enough. “Initially, it was the blindly chauvinistic fools who believed Skychildren to be superior who forced those on Earth into taking such a ridiculous stance. I’m disappointed in you, Major. I expected better of you. I really did.” She rose and tugged on her gloves. “As I understand it, test pilots are chosen for their superior reflexes and unfailing courage. It’s obvious where your weakness lies.”

Dez had suffered a lifetime of abuse in the last three weeks and he wasn’t about to take more from a gardener. As she started past him, he reached out and grabbed her arm. “I’m no coward,” he swore, “but it’s impossible to fight an invisible force.”

The gardener looked him in the eye. “Nothing is impossible,” she replied with equal fervor.

Dez yanked her close. “You suggested I fly the Eclipse. Do you have the courage to come with me?”

The gardener’s heart leapt to her throat, but it was due to sheer joy rather than fright and a warm smile lit her face. “I can’t think of anything I’d rather do.”

Having called his bluff, she was daring Dez to make good on an invitation he had not even imagined she would accept. Too proud to back down, he nodded as though he were equally pleased. “Good, let’s go.”

“Now?”

“Yes, now, unless of course you’re too busy with your plants.” Dez held his breath, hoping she would refuse, but she continued to smile.

“They’ll be here when I get back.”

Silently cursing his own arrogance, Dez released her and started off down the path. If she failed to realize she might not be coming back, he’d not tell her.

The gardener left her gloves and shears on the bench and hurried to catch up with him. The instructors’ quarters were within easy walking distance, and he led her through the maze of stark glass and concrete buildings to his apartment. Due to the party at the commandant’s home, the rest of the complex was deserted. Dez removed his jacket as he entered. Leaving her waiting in the front room, he walked down the hall to his bedroom.

Even expecting the same type of starkly furnished quarters most bachelor officers occupied, the gardener was surprised to find Dez hadn’t even unpacked his belongings, let alone done anything to make the small apartment reflect the uniqueness of his person-ality. Black cases stenciled with his name sat stacked along the far wall, and what few pieces of furniture there were had been provided by the academy. The view was pretty, however, and she moved to the window to enjoy it.

“You have one of the best units,” she called out.

Dez sat down on the bed to remove his boots. “Aren’t they all the same?”

“In design, yes, but not location. You have a marvelous view of the Sapphire Mountains.”

Dez snorted derisively. “This must have been the only unit available. It couldn’t have been assigned to me out of respect.”

The gardener turned away from the window, and after briefly debating the wisdom of following Dez into his bedroom, decided for the time being against anything more personal than a ride in the Eclipse. “Have you always been so cynical, or is your current attitude something new?”

Dez replaced his dress uniform in the closet, but as he donned an iridescent silver flight suit, his hands began to shake. He took a deep breath before he replied. “Let’s just say recent events have given me a cynical bent.”

The gardener glanced into the kitchen. Spotless, the room still held the biting odor of the industrial cleanser used after the last tenant’s departure. Entering, she leaned back against the counter and folded her arms over her chest. “Bachelors,” she murmured to herself. She had met a few with an appreciation of aesthetics which showed in the handsome way they furnished their quarters, but she doubted Desmond Sanchez ever did more than unpack his uniforms before calling the rooms assigned to him home. Of course, he was a test pilot, a man fascinated by speed and risk rather than the type interested in making a home, but the emptiness of his apartment depressed her.

When Dez didn’t find the gardener in the living room where he had left her, his first reaction was disappointment, closely followed by an intense sense of relief. He hadn’t really wanted to fly the Eclipse again, and now that she had apparently decided she didn’t want to ride with him, he wouldn’t have to. Disgusted both with himself and his elusive companion, he entered the kitchen for a drink, and finding her there, had to struggle not to show his surprise.

“I’m sorry,” he greeted her. “I should have offered you something. Not that I have much, but I should have offered.”

The gardener didn’t apologize for snooping. “I’ll take a glass of water.”

Dez thought the young woman remarkably composed considering the challenge she had accepted. Taking a jug from the cooling compartment, he poured glasses of water for them both. Wanting to get the flight over with, he quickly finished his and nodded toward the door.

“Come on, let’s go.” It wasn’t until she placed her glass on the counter and moved past him that he realized he had failed to ask her name. This wasn’t the first time he had asked a nameless woman to his quarters, but he was disappointed that he had done it again. The academy wasn’t like a space station, where pilots came and went so often names were more easily forgotten than remembered. He was expected to behave in an exemplary manner here, and he knew that included being polite to pretty gardeners.

“What’s your name?” he asked as they left his place.

“You may call me Rebel.”

Amused, Dez couldn’t help but smile. “You’re well named. Not many women would fly with me now, and most especially not in the Eclipse.”

Rebel glanced over her shoulder to send him a teasing wink. “I’m not like most women, Major.”

“My friends, when I had them, called me Dez.”

“Dez it is then.” Pleased with herself, Rebel matched his stride on the walk and while he didn’t speak, she now felt more comfortable in his company.

Dez walked on past the first and second hangars, which housed the fleet of Scorpions flown by the cadets attending the academy, and led Rebel to ‘the third. At the side entrance he pressed the numbered buttons on the security panel in the proper sequence and the door slid open. As they entered, the lights came on, illuminating the single ship moored there. Designed for exploration, the Eclipse was a sleek two-man vessel with rear-mounted engines. It resembled the Scorpion in its triangular shape but was slightly larger, and reputed to have far greater speed and range.

While the Scorpion was often compared to an arrowhead, the wider wingspan of the Eclipse reminded Dez of a stingray. Doubtful Rebel would know what a stingray was, he didn’t point out the resemblance to her. “Have you ever been up in a Scorpion?” he asked.

“Yes, a few times.”

“Good. You’ll find the Eclipse gives a similar sensation in flight, but from a pilot’s standpoint, it has more sensitive controls. Or at least it’s supposed to exhibit that feature.”

Dez was surprised that just having someone to talk to made approaching the craft easier. He used another code to open the hatch, entered the Eclipse first, and then turned to offer Rebel a hand. “It’s not too late for you to change your mind,” he added considerately.

“Are you joking?” she asked. “Even after the Eclipse receives final approval and goes into production, it could easily be a year before more than the prototype is housed here. Maybe that doesn’t mean much to you, but it certainly does to me.”

Dez nodded and secured the hatch. “I suppose being the first gardener to fly in an Eclipse will be seen as an honor by your coworkers.”

Rebel waited for him to take the pilot’s seat, and then slipped into the copilot’s at his right. A quick glance revealed that the navigational computer was identical to that of the Scorpion, but the instrument panel contained several new dials. She wondered as to their purpose. “It will be seen as an honor by everyone,” she assured him, “but if you’d rather I kept quiet about it for the time being, I will.”

Dez took a moment to consider her offer. He wasn’t authorized to take passengers on test flights, but the prospect of having a witness on board should anything go wrong again was too appealing to ignore. Still, if he did encounter additional problems, having Rebel along would get him in even worse trouble than he was in already.

“Are you any good at keeping secrets?” he asked.

“Yes, I am.”

“Then I’ll trust you not to mention our flight to anyone.”

Rebel turned to study his expression and couldn’t help but notice the faint beads of perspiration forming on his upper lip. She hadn’t thought test pilots were ever frightened, but clearly he was. Surprised by that discovery, she found him no less appealing, only attractively human. She reached over and gave his wrist a comforting squeeze.

“I won’t even mention I met you in the garden,” she promised. “Now, this ship is sound and so are you. Let’s go.”

Impressed by her courage, Dez couldn’t show any less. He turned on the navigational computer and accessed the code to open the wide doors at the end of the hangar. He received clearance from the tower to take the Eclipse on a brief flight, then fired the ship’s powerful engines, keeping them at minimal thrust to merely float the Eclipse out to the launching area.

“I’ll keep her low and slow,” he vowed as he eased the experimental craft into the air.

As they gained altitude, the rainbow gardens slipped by in a blur of color and Rebel squealed with delight. “You needn’t use any restraint on my account. I love to fly. Let’s see what she can really do!”

While amused by her excitement, Dez wasn’t even tempted to test the limits of the ship’s performance as he had on the day the controls had ceased to respond to his commands. Instead, he flew at a leisurely pace, not straying far above the planet’s surface. On the day of the incident, he had taken off from one of Aurora’s test bases and had had unlimited space in which to fly. Now he hugged the rocky slopes of the Sapphire Mountain range, content to appreciate the sparkling blue peaks.

“Do the cadets still visit the beaches?” he asked in an effort to distract himself and conquer his lingering fears.

“Yes, of course. I doubt habits have changed much since you graduated from the academy. After all, it wasn’t that long ago.”

Dez regarded his attractive passenger with a sidelong glance. He was twenty-nine years old, but felt a thousand. “I didn’t realize you knew more than my name.”

Rebel shrugged. “You mustn’t be so modest. Everyone knows who you are.”

“Well, now they certainly do.”

He looked far from pleased about it too. The Eclipse was responding so well to his commands and confident the flight would continue to go well, Rebel made a suggestion. “Do we have time to fly out to the coast?” she asked.

Dez nodded and began a slow, banking turn that took them up over the deep blue mountain range and then on a straight course over the verdant valley for the sea. “You said you’d been up in a Scorpion. How does the Eclipse compare?”

“Very well, and it looks just as easy to fly. Will you give me a turn?”

Rebel’s reactions were a continual surprise, but Dez was no fool. There were plenty of men with more bravado than sense, and if she were that type of woman, he knew she would relish the challenge, but he doubted she had the skill to accomplish it. He had already come too close to dying in the Eclipse to allow her to kill them both.

“Take hold of the copilot’s controls and just mirror my actions for a while. Let me see how you do.”

Sitting forward slightly, Rebel took the controls in an easy grasp. Scanning the instrument panel, she pointed to the gauges she didn’t recognize. “Tell me about these dials.”

Impressed by her observation, Dez considered her request a long moment. The chances of her being a spy for Aurora’s competition was highly unlikely, but he still supplied a suitably vague answer. “The Eclipse has the same basic instrumentation as a Scorpion, but the modified engines require additional gauges to monitor their performance.”

Rebel nodded and waited for him to relinquish con-trol of the experimental craft. The coast had already come into view before he was satisfied with her competence and did. She kept to the course he had set and then asked his permission to cruise at a lower altitude. “I’d like to skim the waves!” she enthused.

“Sorry,” Dez countered. He glanced down at the near-blinding expanse of white sand. “There doesn’t seem to be much activity along the shore, but we can’t go down any closer:”

“Have you been out to the islands?”

Dez had paid such close attention to his studies while he had been at the academy, he had not had much of a social life. Trips to the coast had been few, and he had never visited any of the offshore island resorts. “Not yet,” he replied. Seeing his companion’s golden eyes take on a mischievous gleam, he shook his head. “Not today, Rebel.” He had expected her to display the tentative touch of a novice pilot, but she had surprised him with the firmness of her hand on the controls. He began to wonder just how expert her touch would be stroking him. Knowing such a digression was dangerous, he immediately rechanneled his thoughts.

Still apprehensive, he reassumed command of the ship and flew parallel to the coast until the islands Rebel had mentioned came into view. Reached by sleek hovercraft, the largest were home to expensive resorts. His limited resources while at the academy had provided another reason to avoid them. It being early autumn, most of the summer guests had departed. They sighted only a sprinkling of vacationers on the beaches.

“Take us out a little further,” Rebel begged. “My favorite island lies just ahead.”

Like the Caribbean on Earth, the Paraiso Sea was a clear aqua that beckoned invitingly. Long overdue for a vacation, Dez wished they did have time to land and explore the islands. Rebel had proved to be surprisingly good company and he was sorry he couldn’t take her where she liked to go. “Which one is it?” he asked.

“The last in the chain.”

Dez circled slowly. “It looks uninhabited.”

“That’s what I like about it.”

“Really?” Dez was used to women who played as hard as they worked, and their type wouldn’t consider any but Aurora’s most expensive resorts for a vacation. “What do you do there?”

Rebel appeared surprised that he had to ask. “Come with me sometime and find out,” she invited with an enticing smile.

Grateful that she had forced him to fly the Eclipse, Dez glanced toward the heavens. After a few more flights as uneventful as this, he would take the ship out again to test its potential, but for now, he just wanted to go home. With a final nod toward the island Rebel admired, he set their course for the academy and eased back in his seat.

“I’m going to let the computer take us home,” he announced after keying in his request.

Rebel would have preferred another turn to fly the new craft, but wouldn’t beg. “Another test?” she asked.

“You might say that,” Dez responded, but his glance intimated more. He could not recall the last time he had been with a woman who wasn’t either aggressively competing with him or blatantly attempting to seduce him, and Rebel provided a welcome change. As a test pilot, he had been popular, but at the reception earlier he had been ignored by the attractive young women who would once have welcomed his attentions. That had hurt. The party had provided a grim preview of what the rest of his stay at the academy would be like and he was not looking forward to it.

Rebel cocked a brow slightly, prompting him to say more.

“It’s a matter of regaining confidence in the ship,” he explained, “of just letting it do what it’s built to do.”

“After the fright yotrsuffered, that can’t be easy.”

“No, it isn’t,” Dez agreed, “but I’m doing it anyway.”

“Good for you.”

Rebel looked away to take in the view as they streaked across the valley. Dez checked the instruments to make certain the Eclipse was performing as designed, then turned to watch her. It was plain the women at the academy wouldn’t want to spend any time with him, but none that he had met had interested him nearly as much as this lovely gardener. She had both a sophisticated elegance and a childlike innocence, an enormously intriguing combination. He waited until the Eclipse was safely moored inside its hangar to ask to see her again.

“Yes, I’d love another chance to fly the Eclipse,” Rebel replied as she left the ship.

Dez closed the hatch and took her hand as they walked toward the exit. “I wasn’t talking about the Eclipse,” he chided. “I was hoping you’d like to spend some time with me. ”

Rebel stopped and turned toward him. She saw a clear light of admiration in his glance, but also a mist of apprehension. That he wasn’t certain of her response surprised her, and she leaned up and kissed his cheek. His skin was damp and tasted faintly salty. Before she could move away he turned and caught her mouth in a demanding kiss. His tongue slid smoothly over hers, coaxing a far deeper response than she wished to give to a man she had known only a short while.

Abruptly pulling away, she put her hands on her hips and adopted a far more serious manner. “Your choice of profession makes it plain you thrive on risk, Major, but I don’t like to be rushed. You’ll be at the academy a semester at least, so we’ll have plenty of time to get acquainted.”

Embarrassed by her scolding tone, Dez shrugged. “Sorry, but I find being alive a lot more enjoyable than I used to, and you’re a very attractive young woman.”

“Oh, now I see. You intend to celebrate life with whomever’s handy?”

“No!” Dez took a step toward her, but she moved back to maintain the distance between them. “It isn’t like that at all. I like your spirit. That’s why I want to see you again, not just because you’re gorgeous.”

“Thank you for the compliments, but I’d hate to disappoint you. Perhaps we should say goodbye now.”

This time Dez crept forward so slowly she didn’t think to retreat. “How could you ever disappoint me?” he asked.

Rebel laughed. “You don’t really expect me to tell you, do you?”

“Yes, you could at least provide a hint. Have dinner with me tonight, and we can discuss our expectations at length.”

“Sorry, I have plans for the evening, but you know where to find me. Ask me again.” She blew him a kiss and then turned and sprinted out of the open doors at the end of the hangar.

“Wait!” Dez called, but by the time he reached the doorway she had disappeared from view. He certainly wasn’t looking forward to dining alone again, and since a week remained before classes began, he thought he just might camp out in the rainbow gardens until Rebel found him as exciting as he found her. He stood out of the way as the hangar doors slid closed, then walked back toward the Eclipse.

The ship had flown as beautifully that day as she had on his initial test flights, but even if no one believed him, the threat of disaster still existed, and somehow he would have to find its source. He smiled as he thought of Rebel. Knowing that one person believed in him, he vowed to convince all of Aurora he was right.

Chapter Two

Sunday morning Blaise awoke early and stretched lazily in her bed. While she hadn’t dreamed about Desmond Sanchez, her first thoughts of the day were of him. Dark and dangerous, he was nevertheless enormously appealing, but she doubted she had made a mistake in rejecting his advances yesterday. A test pilot with his fame would expect to get whatever and whomever he wanted for the asking, and she refused to be just another shapely conquest.

Not that she wasn’t spoiled herself, she mused slyly, for boys had been tagging after her since she had first begun school. Adult males had a far more sophisticated approach, but she still drew a great deal of attention. Understanding men were capable of the same depth of emotion as women, she had never taken advantage of those whose affections she could not return. As a result, she had had only a few serious romances, and although they had come to their natural end, she still treasured the bittersweet memories.

As she recalled the sadness in Dez’s eyes, she felt a twinge of guilt for leaving him so abruptly. If he were truly the kind of man she believed him to be, however, his interest in her would survive. When she had learned he was coming to the academy, she had ex-pected him to be brash, if not arrogant, but he had proven to be unlike any of the other pilots she knew. She was anxious to see him again, and hoped he had no plans for the day.

She had promised he could find her in the gardens, and did not want to miss him should he be inspired to seek her out. Confident that he would, she rose with a sparkling burst of energy and anticipation. Others would admire the beautiful plants she tended as carefully as children, but on that morning, her true interest would be in a handsome man with a haunted gaze.

Dez had not really expected to find Rebel at work in the garden on a Sunday, but she was there. Not wanting to startle her, he waited until she looked up and saw him to approach. “Don’t you ever have any time off?” he asked.

Pleased he had not disappointed her, Rebel rose and removed her gloves before wiping her forehead on her sleeve. “I have the whole day off,” she replied. “I’m just making up for the time I missed yesterday afternoon.”

Dez scanned the floral rainbows. “The garden looks perfect to me.”

“Yes, it does, doesn’t it? Unfortunately, the plants need a great deal of attention to keep it that way.”

“I didn’t see anyone else out here yesterday, and you’re alone today. Are you expected to tend the flowers all by yourself?”

Rebel knew precisely what Dez was doing: talking about the garden rather than whatever had really brought him there. She appreciated his attempt to stop pressuring her and explained with a smile. “There’s actually a large staff assigned to the academy grounds, but most are on vacation this week. Once classes start, you’ll see the others.”

“I doubt they’re anything like you, but I’ll watch for them.” Dez was already dressed in a flight suit, and having exhausted his curiosity about the garden, he broke into a ready grin. “I thought I’d fly the Eclipse out to the island you like and have lunch. I’ve already got the food packed. Would you care to come along?”

Eager to spend more time with him, Rebel didn’t need to be coaxed. “This will have to be another secret, won’t it?” she asked.

“Our flights will be documented. I’ve been encouraged to fly; dared, rather. It’s only your presence we needn’t disclose for the time being.”

“I see. So you’ll describe it as another test flight out to the coast?”

“Yes. The Eclipse is to be a reconnaissance vessel, remember, so practice landings on a variety of terrain are a must.”

“If a Scorpion can land on and take off from sand, then it should be equally safe for the Eclipse.”

Dez nodded to acknowledge the point. “It should be, but it still has to be tested.”

While she had glimpsed Dez’s smile only briefly the previous day, she saw now that it was absolutely splendid. His teeth were very white and contrasted sharply with his deeply tanned complexion. He looked the part of the dashing test pilot, but Rebel believed him to have strength of character as well as extraordinary good looks and charm. “I’d like to bring a bathing suit. May I change clothes, and meet you at the hangar in a few minutes?”

“Sure, we’ve plenty of time. I thought it might take me most of the morning just to find you, so we’re running ahead of schedule.”

Rebel frowned slightly. “If you hadn’t found me here, I hope you wouldn’t have gone looking for me. The staff of the academy is prone to gossip, and I doubt you’d want the new term to begin with your name linked to mine.”

Dismayed by that admonition, Dez was quick to argue. “You’re a bright and beautiful woman. Do you think I’d be ashamed to be seen with you just because you work in the gardens?”

“No,” Rebel sighed softly. “It’s just that as you pointed out yesterday, you have problems enough already.”

“You’re no problem,” Dez assured her. “Now hurry up and get ready so we can go.”

Rebel waited until he had left the garden to gather up her tools. It wasn’t that she was ashamed of where she lived, but while she would undoubtedly run the risk of having him think her maddeningly reclusive for the time being, she knew he would thank her later for her discretion.

Dez brought the Eclipse down on the small island’s shore, where the wet sand provided the best base for the landing gear. He opened the hatch and inhaled the salt-scented breeze. Richly tinged with the heady perfume of lush tropical blooms, it made him homesick for the beautiful Pacific Islands on Earth. Caught by surprise, he tried to force away the melancholy sensation that welled up in him, but he was only partly successful.

The academy had been built inland to avoid the hazards of the coastal fog, but he thought this location ever so much prettier. Noted on the navigational chart as La Ultima, “the last,” the island.was nearly a perfect circle, ringed with glistening white beaches and overgrown with dense tropical foliage heavy with bright, fragrant flowers. Able to name the orchids, if not the others, he knew many must have been transplanted from Earth. Wherever they had gone, the first star travelers had taken whatever they could of home with them, and those who came later, like Dez, always appreciated the poignant reminders of Earth.

“This place would make a perfect private playground,” Dez remarked as he carried their picnic lunch up the beach. “I’m surprised it doesn’t belong to someone.”

“It does,” Rebel replied. “Edric Quinn, the com-mandant of the academy, owns it. You must have met him yesterday, if not before.”

The memory not all that pleasant, Dez winced slightly. “I wish you’d told me that earlier.”

“Why?”

“Because I wouldn’t have brought you here.” Exasperated, Dez considered leaving, but the island was so peaceful and pretty he didn’t truly want to go. “Quinn wasn’t the commandant when I was a student here, so I’d not met him before I arrived. Unfortunately, he was given no choice about having me on his staff; and he’s made it plain he isn’t pleased about it. I’m sure he wouldn’t approve of our using his private island.”

Rebel was wearing a bright pink bathing suit of the latest design. It swirled around her lissome figure with a near scandalous drape that showed off the fullness of her breasts, left her narrow midriff bare, and complimented her long legs providing scant coverage for her hips. For the trip there, she had knotted the slinky matching skirt around her waist, but after removing a pair of fushia sandals, she tossed it aside.

As was the fashion, she had a full-body tattoo. A sprinkling of tiny stars inked in shimmering shades of silver and gold swirled up her left leg, curled around her waist, then rose to sweep her breasts before the enchanting trail disappeared over her left shoulder. While not all of the delightfully feminine design was visible in her bathing suit, there was more than enough to rivet Dez’s attention. Oblivious to the hunger that was rapidly filling his gaze, Rebel blithely freed her long hair of its confining coil and continued their conversation.

“Quinn has a forceful personality, and he’s known for strictly enforcing the academy’s rules, but he’s neither petty nor mean. You won’t find any signs posted here to keep people out.”

“That may very well be true, but—” Dez fell silent as Rebel brushed by him to dash out into the surf. She plunged through the gentle waves and began to swim with a long, graceful stroke. She was delightfully uninhibited, but he wasn’t used to being with women who were more daring than he. He removed his boots, shrugged off his flight suit, and having worn a swim-suit underneath, followed her. The water was warm, more soothing than invigorating, and by the time he overtook her, it struck him as silly to worry over the ownership of the deserted isle.

“I’m glad you can swim,” Rebel called before disappearing in an effortless dive and coming up behind him. She tapped his shoulder, and Dez spun around to face her, only to find her again dipping below the surface to elude him.

Liking her type of play, he began his own chase, and their slippery game of tag lasted nearly an hour until, exhausted by laughter, they sought refuge on the sand. While Dez had forgotten, Rebel had remembered to bring two emerald green towels and they stretched out on them. In the water, she had only been able to see that he had a tattoo, but after she had caught her breath, she sat up to study the colorful design decorating his back.

“Dinosaurs!” she exclaimed. “Oh, I love this.” She reached out to trace the back of a tyrannosaurus rex that was stretching to catch a swooping pterodactyl in its tiny forelegs. Surrounded by a subtly inked primeval world, the scene was a perfect rendering of the dawn of time on Earth.

“So many pilots choose dragons, eagles, or griffons, but this is wonderfully unique.”

Dez sat up slightly, revealing a second pterodactyl dipping across his left collar bone. “You don’t find it too great a reminder that I’m from Earth?”

Spiked with water, his lashes looked as long as hers, and his gaze held a teasing invitation. Rebel ran her fingertips down her thigh. “Do my stars bother you?”

“Not at all. In fact, yours is one of the most beautiful tattoos I’ve ever seen on a woman.”

Rebel responded with a throaty laugh. “I’ll bet you’ve seen a great many, haven’t you?”

“Too many,” Dez heard himself confess, “but I’ve forgotten them all.”

Drawn to him, Rebel caressed his cheek lightly with the back of her hand. “Then the women mustn’t have been very memorable.”

“No, they were nothing like you.” Dez caught her hand and pulled her down into his arms. Her hair lay fanned out on the towel, a glorious silken mane. Thinking her perfect in every respect, he lowered his mouth to hers. When she made not the slightest objection, he deepened his kiss, savoring the sweetness of her taste until a kiss wasn’t nearly enough. He slid his hand down her body, gently appraising her curves before tugging at the top of her bathing suit in a vain attempt to push it aside.

Rebel arched against him momentarily, then weaved her fingers in his, stilling his wandering caress. When he leaned back to regard her with a puzzled frown, she quickly rolled out of his embrace. “I asked you not to move so fast. Now, you promised me lunch, and I think we ought to have something to eat.”

Badly disappointed, Dez let out an anguished moan and lay back on his damp towel. “There’s only one thing that I want to eat,” he protested under his breath.

Having heard his suggestive complaint, Rebel sighed audibly. “I’ll not be another woman you’ll sleep with and forget faster than your dreams. I’m not hungry, after all. I’m going for a walk.” She got up and, grabbing her skirt, used it as a cape to shade her shoulders as she strode off down the beach.

Surprised by the anger in her voice, Dez sat up slowly. While he wanted to go after her, he restrained himself. Rebel was younger than most of the women he dated, but she had seemed every bit as sophisticated. Now he began to wonder. What if she expected more than he was willing, or able, to give? Even worse, what if she demanded the promises he had never given the others? He cursed and needing to cool off, went back out into the Paraiso Sea, but the warmth of its azure depths failed to ease his distress. He swam then, with long, hard strokes until he was too tired to continue, he took refuge on the beach and fell asleep.

Staying on the damp sand, Rebel walked all the way around the island. She argued with herself the whole way but came to the eventual conclusion that she wanted far more than a brief passionate liaison from Desmond Sanchez. That would involve the two of them though, and what he wanted was obnoxiously plain. While it was flattering to be admired for her looks, Rebel also had a mind, and ambitions she dared not even hint at yet.

When she reached the Eclipse, she climbed aboard, and without Dez to notice how closely she examined the cockpit, satisfied the last of her curiosity about the powerful prototype’s instruments. She had no doubt that Dez had shown her enough to enable her to pilot it home, but the ship had capabilities he had yet to demonstrate and she dared not alienate him while they were still a mystery. Returning to the beach, she stepped over the sleeping pilot, opened the insulated food carrier he had provided, and began to rummage through its contents.

Sensing her presence, Dez opened one eye. “I hope I brought along something you like. That way the day won’t be a total loss.”

Rebel swept her hair out of her eyes as she looked up. “I like you, Dez, I really do, but you can’t tell me you’ve forgotten thousands of women in one breath and expect to seduce me in the next.”

“It was worth a try,” Dez teased, but when Rebel failed to appreciate his attempt at humor he sat up to face her. “My life has taken an exceedingly nasty turn,” he described with deliberate care. “This is the first time I’ve ever been posted to a location not of my own choosing. That I’ve been removed from a job I loved, not because I couldn’t do it, but simply because I can’t prove my suspicion that the technology has been developed to stop Project Eclipse, isn’t something I can accept graciously. For the time being I still have the ship, but I doubt I can hold on to it for long, and when it’s gone, what will I have?”

“Yourself,” Rebel responded easily, “but I won’t be a sacrifice on the altar of your pain.”

“You’d never be that,” Dez assured her.

His expression was too serious for Rebel to mistake his intent, but she had good reason to remain aloof. “You know very little about me, Dez.”

“You’re of age?”

Rebel nodded. “I’m twenty-one.”

“You’re not married to one of the other instructors at the academy, are you?”

“No, I’ve never been married,” she assured him emphatically. “And if I had a husband, I’d not be here with you.”

“I didn’t mean to insult you,” Dez apologized quickly, “and there haven’t been thousands, by the way.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” Rebel sank down on her knees next to him and regarded him openly.

Dez knew he ought to let her set the pace, but Rebel was so deliciously appealing he could not seem to behave himself. It wasn’t that he hadn’t been with a woman in a while, because there had been several who had bid him an affectionate farewell when he had left the test base. He studied her features with a rapt gaze, and when she responded with a shy smile, he leaned over to brush her lips with a light kiss.

“How do you do it?” he asked.

“Do what?”

“Make me want you so badly?”

That he thought his desire for her was some feminine trick, rather than the simple joy of being with her, pained Rebel, but rather than let it show, she provided a fanciful excuse. “It’s the island,” she insisted in a seductive whisper. “There’s a flower native to its shores that’s known to be a potent aphrodisiac.”

Dez wondered why it wasn’t affecting her too. “Maybe I ought to take some home with me.”

“No, that’s impossible. It loses its power the moment it’s picked.”

“Then tomorrow we’ll bring a shovel and take the whole damn plant.”

“Tomorrow?”

Dez started to laugh. “Yes, let’s come back. I like it here.”

His glance made it plain that the island wasn’t all he liked. Liking him enormously too, Rebel was sorely tempted to explore the attraction between them, but her earlier caution still struck her as the best possible course. “I think we better have lunch.” Distracting herself with serving the picnic, she kept the conversation as light as the summer day. Following her lead, Dez concentrated on the food as well, and they enjoyed a relaxed and leisurely meal.

By the time Rebel finished the last bite of a flavorful lavender pear and licked the juice from her fingertips, she was amazed by the size of their appetites. She had been certain the food container held enough sandwiches, fresh fruit, spicy nut cakes, and mineral water for half a dozen people. Now it was completely empty.

“It must be the island,” she apologized. “I never eat this much.”

“I haven’t felt much like eating since, well, for a while, but I agree. Everything tastes better here. Maybe it’s that seductive plant. Could it increase all types of appetites?”

Rebel glanced away to hide her smile. “I was teasing you, Dez. The flowers here are lovely, but their fragrance has no amorous effect.”

Dez came after her with a low, menacing growl that was quickly dissipated in deep chuckles. He caught her in a playful hug and rolled with her onto the sand. “Is that an example of a gardener’s sense of humor? Are you going to fool me constantly with tales of magical herbs and floral elixirs?”

His embrace was playful rather than confining, and Rebel laughed with him. “I just might. Now, let me up. It’s time we got back to the academy.”

Dez sighed unhappily, but released her. “You’re right. It’s late and we’ve got to go, but I want to see you again tonight. Have dinner with me.”

Rebel stood, flicked the sand off her skirt, and tied it at her waist. “I doubt I’ll be able to eat again before tomorrow.”

“Then just come to my place and we’ll find a way to amuse ourselves.”

When he stood, she shook out their towels and folded them. Readily understanding the nature of his invitation, she couldn’t accept. “No, that wouldn’t be wise,” she argued.

“If you don’t want to come to my place, then I’ll come to yours.”

Rebel shook her head. “No, that would really be unwise.”

“You have a roommate?”

“Several.”

“All male?” Assuming a challenging stance, Dez blocked her way and waited for a response.

“No, they’re not all male, but even if they were, that would be my business, not yours. We’ve only known each other two days, Dez. Are you always so demanding? Or is controlling the better word?”

Ashamed to have his interest in her described in such a damning way, Dez stepped aside, grabbed up his flight suit, and pulled it on. “Women complain that I’m distant, which is usually an accurate assessment. If I’ve been too eager with you, it’s just because I like you so much. That’s something new for me.”

“Please. I’d prefer the truth to flattering lies.”

“That is the truth!”

His indignation convinced her he was sincere, and Rebel stayed close by him while he drew on his boots. Now that they were ready to leave, she felt an uncomfortable sense of regret. It had been her choice not to take their friendship into something more. But she could not deny the attraction she felt toward him.

“I think we’re both tired and that’s a good reason not to see each other again tonight,” she said. “What’s your schedule like for the coming week? Will you have any time for me?”

Dez picked up the food container. “Frankly, I’ve got nothing but time. Quinn has assigned me a group of fourth-year cadets who already know how to fly, so I don’t have anything to prepare, and even after classes begin next week, I won’t have all that much to do other than supervise them.”

“What about testing the Eclipse?” When an anguished expression filled his glance, Rebel revised her suggestion. “I have time off coming. We could go on other flights, explore the planet, since you’ve not been here in several years. I’ll bet in a few days you’ll be ready to test her limits again.”

“Perhaps, but I won’t be able to take you with me then.”

“I understand you have a job to do.”

“I hope you do. Most women who are attracted to test pilots quickly decide what they really want is to force us to give up dangerous work for some lucrative job piloting shuttle flights. Now that’s control for you.”

Rebel touched his arm. “I told you before that I’m not like most women. What will it take to convince you?”

Dez flashed a charming grin. “See me tonight?”

Rebel scooped up her sandals and led the way back to the Eclipse. “That’s a tempting invitation, but no. I’d really rather not.”

Dez started to argue, then thought better of it. Rebel was definitely worth the wait, and somehow he would have to find the patience that had eluded him so completely that day.

Rebel slipped in the house unseen, but before she could close the door of her room, her brother followed her inside. His lazy glance took in the sand in her windblown hair and the incriminating blush in her cheeks. Laughing, he stretched out across the foot of her bed. “You’ve obviously found someone new. Who is he?”

Rebel took the precaution of closing her door before she whispered her reply. “Believe me, you don’t want to know.”

“Oh, but I do. Looks like you’ve been out to the coast, and the shuttle’s not due back for an hour. That means you’ve found a man with access to a ship. Let me guess. It’s either an instructor or a mechanic. Knowing your tastes, it’s probably the mechanic.”

“Did I tease you last year about the little red-haired programmer in accounting?”

“No, you didn’t and I appreciated it.”

“Good, but you still owe me for keeping quiet about her and I expect you to honor that debt. Now get out of here. I’ve got to get dressed for dinner.”

Sliding off the bed, the young man approached her. While he was a couple of inches taller than Rebel, his coloring was identical and his features remarkably similar. “Be careful,” he warned, “and if you need me to keep your new man in line, just let me know.”

Rebel feigned a punch to his midsection and he dodged away. “I’m all grown up,” she reminded him. “I can take care of myself now.”

“Sure you can, but if you ever need me, I’ll be there,” he called on his way out.

Certain that he would be, Rebel smiled and went into her bathroom. She removed her bathing suit and stepped into the shower, adjusting the water temperature to match that of the Paraiso Sea. She closed her eyes and, awash in that glorious warmth, took so long getting clean she was almost late for dinner. It wasn’t until much later, when everyone else was asleep, that she wished she were with Dez. Missing him terribly, she was again overcome by the painful sense of regret she had felt that afternoon.

She sat on the side of her bed and, weighing her options carefully, quickly decided she had already exceeded the bounds of caution where Desmond Sanchez was concerned. The instructors would have all returned to the academy, and most of the support personnel, but it was unlikely he had found another woman with whom to share the evening. And if he had, well, he wasn’t worth knowing anyway.

No longer able to put off seeing him, she left the house and boldly traversed the lighted walks, entering the instructors’ housing complex. Most of the apartments were dark, but a light shown in his. Hoping he would be delighted rather than annoyed by such a late visit, she rapped softly on his door.

Clad in a pair of black pants, Dez carried the book he had been reading to the door. When he saw Rebel outside, he tossed the book away and pulled her into his arms. She felt so good in his embrace that he would have provided his neighbors with an unforgettable treat had she not pressed the button to close the door. He pushed her back against it, molding her body to his as he drank in the delicious taste of her kiss.

That he had missed her too made Rebel’s heart soar, but he did not know enough about her to make the choice he had clearly made soon after they had met. She had tried to warn him, but he was a man who thrived on risk, and she wanted him to be attracted to her rather than to the danger an involvement with her posed. When he at last ended his lengthy welcoming kiss, she rested her hands on his chest.

“We ought to agree that no matter what happens, neither of us will blame the other.”

“I’ve never made any promises,” Dez replied in a husky whisper, “but I’ll agree to yours.” He kissed her again with the same passionate intensity, then wove his fingers through her hair, keeping her face pressed against his. He relaxed his hold when he realized she was clinging to him with unmistakable ardor.

Rebel hugged him tightly and gave his earlobe a playful bite. She wanted to apologize for ever believing she ought to stay away, but his next kiss smothered her words and blurred her thoughts until all trace of regret was forgotten. She was conscious of only one need and that was for him. Together they slid slowly to the plush gray carpet.

A dozen fevered kisses later, Dez began to laugh, certain the floor of his apartment wasn’t nearly as soft as the sparkling white island sand would have been. “Come on,” he coaxed. “We’ll be far more comfortable in my bed.” He helped Rebel to her feet, and they left a trail of clothes littering the hall to his bedroom. Although apart mere seconds, when they came back together in a tangle of warm, bare flesh, neither wanted to ever separate again.

Dez feared he was moving much too fast, and yet Rebel was wrapped around him so tightly he could think of nothing but pleasing her. He sucked at her stardusted breasts, then slid his tongue into her navel before moving lower to savor still more of her. She was delicate, soft, sweet. He parted her tender folds with eager kisses and then delved deeply, teasing her senses until he felt the first tremors of a shattering release. He shifted position then, and now certain she was no virgin, he unleashed the full torrent of his emotions, entering her with a savage thrust. Grinding his hips against hers, he took up a fierce, driving cadence until overwhelmed with a stirring climax of his own, he shuddered and, finally spent, collapsed in her arms.

Rebel had always regarded sex as a pleasurable exchange, but her other partners had not prepared her for the thrill of being with Dez. His hair was thick, but fine in texture, and she combed it through her fingers as he rested in her embrace. She felt the lingering bliss of their pairing clear to her toes, and was filled with wonder. He was very special indeed. Her fingertips soon strayed down his back, and she couldn’t help but be curious as to how dinosaurs had mated. Reptiles, she knew they had hatched from eggs, but was that only after the adults merged in a fierce coupling?

When Dez raised up, his expression was filled with awe, but he no longer questioned the source of Rebel’s magical appeal. “Don’t go,” he begged. “Spend the night with me.”

Rebel doubted she would ever find the strength to leave him. Rather than reply in words, she responded with lavish kisses and a knowing touch. She brought Dez to the brink of rapture before moving astride him to share his pleasure. Gripping his sides with her knees, she rose and fell in a slow, seductive rhythm that at first stilled his urgent need for release, and then gradually quickened to a swift pounding beat that threatened to rip out his very soul when he could no longer contain his joy. Tensing her muscles, she coaxed him to give more and more until, drained by orgasmic spasms, he drew her down into his arms.

“Oh God, yes,” Dez whispered against her lips, locking her in a fervent embrace. When he felt himself growing hard again, he moved inside her with a slow, easy rhythm. He kissed her as he deepened his strokes, but even with that cautious, deliberate beginning he soon found himself lost in a haze of passion, unable to control the fiery impulse to take her as forcefully as he had before. She wrapped her legs around him, holding him captive even as he drove to her depths, and a shared climax fused their spirits in a fiery shower of stars.

His face veiled by a curtain of golden hair, Dez knew he was caught in a luscious web. Content to be the astonishingly passionate young woman’s willing prey, he fell asleep in her arms. When next he awoke, his room was awash in Altair’s bright morning rays. The clothes he had left scattered about were folded over the room’s single chair, and the book he had been reading lay on the nightstand with his place carefully marked.

He sat up, leaned back on his elbows, and for an instant wondered whether Rebel’s visit had merely been a wonderfully erotic dream. Then lingering traces of her scent assailed his senses. She had been there all right, and with a breathless economy of words, they had reached a perfect accord. He threw back the covers. Eager to go and find her for the promised trip to La Ultima, he began to sing as he headed for the shower.

Chapter Three

As promised, in the following days Rebel took Dez on a tour, a magical tour that featured ancient forests where thundering waterfalls poured into lakes of crystal purity. She showed him vast deserts where the wind sculpted the dunes into shapes of eerie beauty, and lush valleys where the elegant native deer roamed free. At night, they hid away in his apartment to explore the ever-expanding limits of their passion. A finely matched pair despite their diverse origins, they forged a deeper bond than either had shared with another. Not surprisingly, they had nearly exhausted the planet’s secrets before disclosing all of their own.

At the close of their first week together, Rebel guided Dez through one of the abandoned mines on the far side of the Sapphire Mountains. The trail was treacherous but she knew the way and she led him on the winding path holding high a solar torch to light the narrow corridor that was carved into the mountainside. Deep indigo, the sapphires glowed with a haunting shimmer as the pair moved nearer the heart of the mountain. Their footsteps crunched on the fragments of stones removed a half-century earlier, and their voices echoed around them.

“Can you even imagine working down here?” Rebel asked.

Dez had never been down in a mine before. He felt as though he were strolling through a dank nightmare, and sincerely regretted ever agreeing to the tour. He rested his hand on the cave wall, but pulled away as the sharp edges of the embedded crystals cut into his palm. “No, I can’t. Haven’t we seen enough?”

“There’s a magnificent cavern just ahead. I want you to see it before we turn back.”

In treks all around the planet, Rebel had proven herself to be an intrepid guide. Once again trusting her judgment, Dez followed her down the steeply inclined trail. From what she had told him, overproduction had lowered the price of sapphires to the point that mining them here was no longer profitable. While that must have put a great many miners out of work, he doubted they had missed this strange blue world.

“It’s just around this bend,” Rebel promised, and taking his hand, she drew him close as they entered the cavern. Sparkling off the translucent crystals, her torch’s light was magnified a thousandfold to reveal a cathedral-sized room with a high, vaulted ceiling. In shades of blue ranging from nearly transparent to darker than midnight, a bonanza of sapphires beckoned with a magical glow.

“In many respects this place is forbidding,” Rebel whispered, “but I still think it’s very beautiful. The bottom of the Paraiso Sea must look like this.”

He watched her, enchanted by the way her fair skin was tinted pale blue by the light reflected off the precious stones. “You’d make a splendid mermaid. Now let’s get out of here and go back to La Ultima.”

“After all the picturesque places we’ve been, you still like that island best?”

Dez leaned over to nuzzle her throat with playful nibbles. “What I like best is you. Now let’s go, or I’m afraid we’re both going to suffer some very painful cuts when I try making love to you here.”

“Somehow I don’t think you’ve really appreciated the beauty of the mine.”

“Probably not, but I appreciate yours.”

Rebel turned to kiss him, then drew back as a low rumble signaled the approach of others. “Come with me,” she urged. “We can step off the trail and then leave after whomever is coming passes by.”

They had left the Eclipse in a secluded ravine, so Dez wasn’t worried their presence had already been noted. “Ashamed to be seen with me?”

“No, but this is no time to debate the issue.” Again taking his hand, Rebel continued down the path for a few steps and then slid into a narrow crevice that fortunately opened out into a small domed chamber. She switched off the torch and cuddled close. “Just be quiet, and they’ll never know we’re here.”

Dez managed to stand still for no more than thirty seconds before stoically ignoring the inviting warmth of Rebel’s charms became impossible. He tilted her head and kissed her, then slipped his hand under her waistband to begin a boldly wandering caress that soon had her leaning against him for support. Using her own creamy wetness to ease his way, he gently coaxed a flood of pleasure from her silken depths. He deepened his kiss, muffling the soft mewing cries she would have made otherwise, until he felt the last tremors of forbidden bliss leave her completely relaxed in his arms.

The voices were becoming clearer, deep, laughing, undoubtedly cadets enjoying a final day of mischief before classes began in the morning. Thinking the last week had passed much too quickly, Dez vowed not to let whatever onerous duties Edric Quinn assigned him to interfere with his time with Rebel. He had dreaded coming to the academy, but that was before he had known she was there. While still painful, the anguish of his exile had lost its sting.

Just as he and Rebel had, the newcomers stopped to admire the cavern upon entering, but soon they moved on. Taking Rebel’s hand in a firm grasp, Dez led her out of the small chamber and back up the trail. When he was certain their light wouldn’t be seen, he asked her to switch on the torch. They soon made their way to the surface. Drinking in the fresh air, Dez took a deep breath, and then turned to find Rebel eyeing him with a disconcertingly suspicious glance.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

“You have to ask?”

Again Dez took her hand for the short walk to the Eclipse. “I don’t want to waste a minute with you, and you’ll have to admit that I didn’t. Is that wrong?”

“No, but I’ll pay you back for taking advantage of the situation.”

Dez laughed at her threat. “I’ll look forward to it.” He keyed in the code to open the hatch and helped her inside the experimental ship. Within a few minutes, they were flying on what had become his most frequent course. “Isn’t La Ultima your favorite place too?” he asked.

Rebel settled into the copilot’s seat and gave his question considerable thought before she replied. “I haven’t been anywhere with you I didn’t enjoy, but I like your apartment because it’s the only place our privacy is assured.”

“Aren’t you ever going to invite me over to meet your roommates?”

“Oh, Dez—”

“Oh, Dez,” what? Either they’ll like me or they won’t, or is that the problem? Does their opinion of me matter so much you don’t dare risk having them dislike me?“

“No, of course not.”

“Then why won’t you invite me to your place?”

“Because it might spoil everything, and I don’t want to take that chance. Now will you please drop the subject. Once classes begin tomorrow, everything will change anyway.”

“I’ve already told you I won’t be too busy to see you. Don’t you believe me?”

Rebel turned toward him. “I can’t believe how dear you’ve become to me in only a week.”

“You’re changing the subject.”

“No, I’m not. I just don’t want to let go of this week.”

La Ultima was already in view, and Dez gave his full attention to the landing before he responded to her wistful remark. “I don’t intend to count the days,” he assured her. “All I know is that what we have will last as long as we want it to, and I happen to believe it will keep on getting better.”

Rebel unbuckled her seatbelt and leaned over to kiss him. “We’re getting positively maudlin. Come on, let’s go for a swim.”

She bounded out of the Eclipse before Dez could stop her, but he knew where to find her. They had refined the details of their excursions to a precise routine. He picked up their lunch each morning from the academy cafeteria, and they met at the hangar where the Eclipse was housed, both wearing swimsuits under their clothes. Rebel always had the coordinates for wherever she wished to go first, but on more than one occasion, they had made a stop at La Ultima on their way home for a lazy swim and relaxed lovemaking on the beach. Returning to the magical isle where the lush tropical beauty provided such a glorious setting for romance was a habit they both enjoyed.

After depositing his clothes on the beach next to the food container, Dez swam out to where Rebel was floating on her back. She was wearing a blissful smile, and making lazy circles with her hands. “Let’s not go home tonight,” he suggested.

“Classes begin tomorrow,” Rebel reminded him.

“I know, but we can sleep on the beach, get up with the dawn, and be back at the academy in plenty of time for me to meet my cadets.”

Turning a slow backwards somersault, Rebel dipped out of sight. When she reappeared, she shook her head, flipping her long hair and flinging droplets of water all around him. The coral tint of her lips and aqua accent to her eyes were tattoos, and she lost none of her beauty when wet. “While the Eclipse has performed as expected, I really don’t think we ought to assume that it will in the morning and risk your returning late.”

That the gorgeous gardener was such a practical soul continually amazed Dez. “I’ll take that risk. After all, the cadets have just returned from vacation and they aren’t going anywhere. They’ll be there the next day if I don’t see them tomorrow.”

“Edric Quinn might have something to say about that.”

Dez greeted that prediction with a loud moan. “Now there’s a ghastly thought.” He had managed to avoid the commandant all week, and hoped he could continue to elude him. “You’re right, if I’m going to win the instructor of the year medal, I don’t dare miss the first day of class.”

“Do they have such an award?”

“No, but I need to win it anyway. I’ve got to prove I can do something right.”

Rebel swam into his arms. “You just send anyone who wants a reference to me,” she murmured against his lips. Fearful of drowning in her embrace, Dez led her out of the sea and up on the sand, where making love with her again surpassed his wildest dreams.

When his alarm went off the next day, Dez awakened with a frustrated moan. On that of all mornings, he wished Rebel was there to wish him good luck. He vaguely recalled her doing so before she had left his bed after midnight, but it would have meant a great deal to him had she been there now. Sitting up, he ran his fingers through his hair and tried to remember if they had made plans for the evening. He felt certain they must have, but he couldn’t remember what they were. The thought of seeing her at the rainbow gardens after class made it possible for him to leave his bed and get ready to assume what he feared would be the tiresome duties of an instructor.

Well acquainted with the academy grounds, he found his classroom without difficulty. A couple of the cadets who would be in his charge for the fall semester were already there, and he greeted them with a slight nod and silently cursed the fact that he had been given absolutely no choice in the acceptance of his current assignment. The academy provided a complete university education in addition to flight instruction, but eight years after his graduation, his flight instructors were the professors he recalled most vividly.

He had regarded them with an awe tempered by an untamed desire to surpass each one of them in their considerable accomplishments. He had enjoyed astonishing success toward that goal, until the near-crash in the Eclipse had landed him right back where he had started. Only now as an instructor, he was positive that among the eager cadets he would meet that day there would be at least one who would be smugly contemplating demolishing each of his records.

A pleasant tone rather than the old discordant buzzer announced the beginning of the first class period. Dez attempted to look as though he knew precisely what was expected of him as an impossibly young looking group of twelve women and thirteen men filed into the room and with lighthearted shoving and jostling took their seats. Seniors, they wore their emerald uniforms with a touching pride, even though they were still dismissed by the instructors as “Greens.” Hoping he had their respect as well as their attention, Dez planned to wait until they were all leaning forward with eager anticipation before he opened the folder containing his class list and called the roll. Then a set of blond twins entered the room and the few plans he had made were instantly forgotten.

They were an imposing pair, tall and lithe, with oddly beautiful amber eyes. The young man was handsome, with a rakish grin, but his lovely sister’s smile was shyly seductive. That Rebel might be a cadet at the academy, and even worse, assigned to him, had not even crossed Dez’s mind and for a wretched moment he just stared at her. Then he hurriedly reviewed his roster, but there was no one named Rebel listed.

Attempting to sound sincerely disappointed by that fact, he gestured toward the printed list. “I’m afraid you two are in the wrong room. Rosters are posted by every door, so you should have no trouble finding where you belong.”

Displaying a cocky self-assurance, the young man pulled a wrinkled slip of paper from his hip pocket and handed it to Dez. “Your roster’s just been updated, Major. This is exactly where we belong. I’m Blair, and this is Blaise. I’m assuming you know our father, Edric Quinn? He knew you’d be pleased to have us in your class.”

Dez’s tenuous hold on his composure growing alarmingly frayed, he scanned the brief message from the commandant’s office. It was effusively complimentary, but still made him sick to his stomach. He hadn’t even known the Quinn’s had a set of twins, much less that he had been enjoying the most blissful affair of his life with one of them. If they spoke so much as one critical word to their father, the laudatory commendation for which he had hoped wouldn’t go into his personnel file, but instead a blistering rebuke that would undoubtedly end his career with Aurora. It was a daunting thought and he had to pour a glass of water from the carafe beside the lectern before he could force himself to smile at Blair. He couldn’t bear to look at Rebel—or Blaise, if that was her real name.

“Take a seat,” he said.

Blair gave him a jaunty salute and sauntered over to the last vacant seat in the front row. He nodded to the young man seated on his right and the cadet instantly leaped to his feet and moved back to the second row to make room for Blaise. Dez took note of that arrogant display, but he knew better than to remind the commandant’s son in front of the whole class that until the first exams were scored, all cadets were considered equal.

He hadn’t wanted to be an instructor in the first place, and now he was positive it was going to be the most miserable year of his life. It was only the realization that he had twenty-five other cadets to worry about in addition to the Quinn twins that inspired him to do his best. He cleared his throat, and vowed to make the most of this unexpected challenge.

“Welcome back to the academy. I’m Major Desmond Sanchez, and it’s my responsibility to make certain you graduate with not only a superb education, but as fully qualified to serve as an officer on any craft in Aurora’s fleet. I understand you’ve already been licensed to pilot civilian craft, but this year you’ll have your first opportunity to fly a Scorpion, Aurora’s reconnaissance vessel. They’re so small and fast, an error in judgment lasting no more than a second can end your career before it’s begun. Don’t make that mistake, either here in the classroom by not taking your studies seriously, or in flight by taking foolish risks.”

Blair Quinn raised his hand. “If I’m not mistaken, weren’t you quoted as saying, ”A pilot who’s afraid to push himself and his spacecraft past the accepted limits isn’t worthy of the name‘?“

Dez’s dark eyes narrowed. “Yes I did, but I was talking about pilots, not cadets; there’s an important distinction between the two. Now if any of the rest of you wish to quote interviews I’ve given, please do so after class so you don’t waste any more of our time.”

Dez had been given handbooks detailing the goals in flight instruction for fourth-year cadets and told to emphasize each one. As he did so, Blair regarded him with an insolent gaze while his sister followed the material with the rapt attention shown by the other cadets. Grateful for her cooperation, Dez tried to overlook her brother’s obvious boredom, but it was insulting all the same. When the tone sounded at the end of the period, he thanked the class for their attention and dismissed all but one of the cadets.

“Rebel, I need to speak with you for a minute, please.”

Surprised by that request, Blair waited for her by the door.

“I meant in private,” Dez called to him.

“I’ll wait outside then,” Blair replied, and with another of his offhand salutes, he left the classroom.

Just to make certain he wasn’t overheard, Dez turned his back to the door. Now, just looking at Rebel hurt. “When you knew my career was on the line, how could you have done this to me?”

Blaise had known he would be surprised to find her in his class, but the barely controlled anger in his voice frightened her. “Just what is it you think I’ve done?” she responded with forced calm.

“You should have told me who you were,” he insisted. “I know exactly what your father thinks of me and it isn’t good. Do you honestly believe I’d have been sleeping with you all week if I’d known you were Edric Quinn’s daughter? Christ, it’s no wonder you refused to invite me to your home. Well, let me make things clear now. Whatever we had is over, finished, done, and if it meant more to you than an amusing flirtation, you won’t breathe so much as a word of complaint to your father about the quality of my instruction.”

Blaise straightened her shoulders proudly. “I warned you that you didn’t know me, but you seemed not to care.”

“You’re right, I didn’t care, but I certainly would have if you’d been honest enough to tell me your name. What did you expect to happen when I discovered you were a cadet? Did you think I’d just ignore the fact that instructors can be dismissed for dating Greens and continue seeing you?”

“Yes, we’ve been discreet. There’s no reason why we can’t keep seeing each other.”

The honeyed smoothness of her voice reminded Dez of how comfortably she had fit into his arms. He had lost count of how many times they had made love, too damn many times, it now seemed. “I want you to request another flight instructor, and get that insolent brother of yours out of my class too. I intend to pretend we never met before today, and I don’t want our paths to cross all year.”

Blaise’s disappointment was a hard lump to swallow. “I thought that you cared as much for me as I do for you.”

Dez looked away. “Don’t make this any worse than it already is. Just go.”

“I believed in you, in us.”

Unable to listen to any more of what he considered flattering lies, Dez turned his back on her and walked out of the room. After he passed Blair without a word, the young man looked in on his sister. When he found her near tears, with the sixth sense common to twins, he knew why she was so upset.

“I didn’t catch it at first, but he called you Rebel. If he knew you by your call sign, then he must be the man you’ve been seeing. Am I right?”

Unintentionally displaying how much they had shared, Blaise helped herself to a sip from Dez’s water. “I can’t talk about this now. Come on, we don’t want to be late for our next class.”

“You knew you could get him fired.”

“To say nothing of getting myself dismissed?”

“Dad would never dismiss you. And from what I remember of the academy’s rules, it’s the instructor’s responsibility not to become involved with a cadet, and there aren’t any penalties for what you’ve done. This is all Sanchez’s fault.”

Unwilling to recount anything of her week with Dez, Blaise shook her head, but with her vision still blurred by tears, she managed to follow Blair to their next class.

Later that morning, Dez met with the other flight instructors to prepare a master schedule to allot each of the fourth-year cadets equal time for training flights. None of the five men and four women also serving as instructors that year had been there when he had attended the academy. The group was professional, if a bit distant, but Dez hadn’t expected a warmer welcome than he had received at the commandant’s reception.

After hurried introductions, their first task was to select a chairman, and the post went to Nona Chane, an attractive woman in her thirties who had the most seniority as an instructor. She then handed out listings of the flight training previously completed by the cadets assigned to them, and unlike his original roll, Dez found Blair and Blaise Quinn’s names were included on his roster. His students all had the requisite licenses permitting them to pilot civilian craft, but the Quinn twins had also logged most of the hours necessary to certify them in Scorpions.

Certain he had misread the information, Dez reviewed it quickly, but it only confirmed his initial impression. Sickened, he now realized Blaise was more than merely adventurous, she was an expertly trained pilot as well. The Eclipse was so easy to fly, on several occasions after their initial flight together, he had let Blaise take the controls, never suspecting that he was dealing with a knowledgeable pilot who was closely observing his every move. Even after she had asked him about the additional instruments, he hadn’t realized her level of expertise.

No, all he had seen was a lovely young woman who shared his daring. He had been so enchanted with her beauty and charm he hadn’t asked any of the questions he should have. As a result, he had seriously jeopardized his already tenuous hold on his career. He had always taken pride in being smart, but he had shown himself to be exceedingly stupid where Blaise was concerned. When Nona Chane asked for questions, he raised his hand.

“I have a couple of students who will complete their training long before the semester is over. I wonder if they wouldn’t be better off with another group.”

Dez’s remark was met with low chuckles, but it was Nona who responded. “I assume you’re referring to Blair and Blaise Quinn. They ended the spring semester at the head of their class. They excel at everything, and would even if their father weren’t the commandant here. Just let them complete their training ahead of schedule and then assign them solo reconnaissance flights for practice.”

Thinking she had solved his problem, Nona took a few other questions, but the minute she dismissed the group, Dez folded the damning printout, shoved it into his pocket for future reference, and went out to the hangar housing the Eclipse. The mechanics who had been doing its maintenance were the best trained on the academy’s staff, and had been cleared by security prior to being given the assignment. Fearing Blaise wouldn’t be nearly so closed-mouthed, he knew he had to complete the remainder of the required test flights and request an immediate transfer. It might not be granted, but it was the only way he saw to escape the wretched situation he had created for himself.

Just looking at the ship made him feel guilty, however, and moving on, he sat down on the low wall outside the cafeteria and tried to understand why, with all the trouble he was already in, he had deserved to fall for the commandant’s daughter. He hoped that after he had left her, Blaise had gone straight to her father to request a class change, because the prospect of flying with her was too painful to contemplate. He doubted her brother would take instruction easily either, and that was reason enough to transfer him to someone else.

Seated alone, Dez was an attractive target for the attentions of other instructors, and he was soon approached by a young woman who introduced herself as Rivera Coraggio. “I arrived late and missed the commandant’s reception so I haven’t had a chance to welcome you to the academy,” she informed him with a charming smile. “I’m glad you’re here and I hope we’ll become friends.”

Dez couldn’t help but laugh. “You obviously have me confused with someone else. I’m Desmond Sanchez and no one is happy that I’m here, least of all me.”

Amused, Rivera laughed with him. “I know who you are. I’m in the math department, and believe me, the calamity that brought you here is of great interest to us. Not because we doubt your ability, but because we are intrigued by the possible causes of your near crash.”

Rivera was a stunning young woman with a glowing mane of curly dark brown hair and luminous brown eyes. She positively glowed with excitement as she began to question him about the Eclipse, but Dez wasn’t interested in sharing the worst experience of his life with her. “I appreciate your enthusiasm for your subject, but at present, information on the Eclipse is restricted to those directly involved in its development and testing.”

“Well, yes, of course, that’s standard procedure, but I understood the ship was stationed here.”

“Yes, it is, but it’s not available for inspection.”

Rivera pursed her lips thoughtfully. “What a shame. Are you continuing your test flights?”

Dez could see where her question was leading, but a cold knot of foreboding began to form in his stomach as he replied. “Yes, but I don’t take passengers.”

Apparently giving up on her quest to inspect the Eclipse, Rivera shrugged her shoulders. “Well, perhaps when the tests are complete we’ll all have a chance to see the ship. Until then, what are you doing about lunch?”

Dez hadn’t felt like eating when he sat down, and now that Rivera had prompted a new worry, he had even less appetite. “I’m sorry, but I’m not hungry. Perhaps we can get together another time.”

“Fine, what about tonight? I love to cook, and any of my specialties are better than what the cafeteria serves.”

“That’s very kind of you, but I wouldn’t be good company for you.”

“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that, Major?” Rivera took out a card, wrote down her address, and handed it to him. “It’s in the middle of the instructors’ quarters. You shouldn’t have any trouble finding it. Shall we say 1900 hours?”

Dez flipped the card through his fingers. Rivera was a beauty, obviously bright, and without Blaise to keep him company, he had only a long and lonely night ahead of him. “Fine, I’ll see you then.”

Relieved when she waved and walked away, Dez went home to change into a flight suit, then returned to the Eclipse. After notifying the tower that he wanted his flight fully tracked, he took off for the first really demanding flight he had made since he had nearly lost the ship and his life. She responded as eagerly and as well as she had in the pleasure voyages he had made with Blaise, and Dez asked for more power while he made increasingly intricate maneuvers, pushing himself as well as the finely crafted ship. By the time he returned to the academy, he had satisfied all the requirements of the test, but still not erased his lingering suspicions as to who, or what, had caused his earlier problems.

It wasn’t until after he had left the hangar and started back toward his quarters that he realized he had been so angry with Blaise he had forgotten to be afraid. Despite his desire to avoid her, he was going to have to have a long talk with her about the Eclipse, but that would have to wait until tomorrow. Tonight, he would have dinner with Rivera Coraggio, and from what he had seen of her earlier, she would definitely do her best to amuse him. That he would feel absolutely nothing was a secret he intended to keep.

Chapter Four

Dez regretted accepting Rivera’s dinner invitation from the moment he arrived. She was wearing a slinky red gown that flattered her figure, but despite her seductive attire and enticing smile, she didn’t arouse a flicker of interest in him. He moved through the door and as far away from her as he could politely get. She had a sickeningly sweet incense burning in a brass pot on a low smokey glass table in front of a black leather couch. Not wanting to present her with the opportunity to sit beside him, where he knew she would nestle up close, he moved toward one of the matching chairs.

“Can I help with anything?” he asked.

“Save your strength for later,” Rivera replied suggestively. “Make yourself comfortable and I’ll bring you a drink. I have some excellent colonial champagne, or ale if you’d prefer.”

“Ale, please.” As he waited, Dez glanced around the room. The floor plan of her quarters was the reverse of his, and she had decorated them with a dramatic flair that suited her. A bold abstract painting in red, black, and gold dominated the living room, and Dez found it as beautifully forbidding as its owner. Feeling trapped, his gaze strayed toward the front door, and a wave of bittersweet longing overtook him as he recalled the night he and Rebel had gotten no farther before passion had overtaken them. That magical sweetness was something he knew he would never find with Rivera.

Rivera failed to note the darkness of Dez’s expression as she returned with his ale and her champagne. “Sit down,” she encouraged, directing him to the place at her side on the couch. He ignored her gesture and took one of the black leather chairs opposite her. While disappointed, she recovered quickly enough to adjust the drape of her skirt to show off an ample expanse of shapely leg.

“You needn’t be shy, Major. The faculty here is a close-knit group and the only formality you’ll see is at the commandant’s receptions. I’m not merely interested in the Eclipse, if that’s your worry. You’re an extremely attractive man. I’m most interested in you for your masculine qualities, rather than for your skill as a pilot.”

Rivera took a sip of champagne and favored him with another of her provocative smiles. She raised her chin and gave her long dark curls a light toss with nails polished the same vivid hue as her gown. She then turned her champagne flute with a graceful touch that promised her caresses would be light and immensely pleasurable.

Rivera had refined her alluring approach to absolute perfection, and Dez was disgusted to think how rapidly he would have taken her up on what she was so blatantly offering in the not too distant past. Tonight, however, he felt not the slightest stirrings of sexual attraction and could not manage so much as a smile. He took a long gulp of ale, and then positive the last thing he needed was too much to drink, he set the tankard on the low table between them.

“I appreciate your interest,” he told her. “It’s flattering, but until I’ve found the cause of the near disaster that’s jeopardized my career, I’m not going to have the emotional resources available to become involved with anyone.” Dez mouthed that excuse knowing it was an outright lie, and not caring. It was the truth where she was concerned, and that was all that really mattered.

Rivera accepted his comment with a husky laugh. “Major, please, we’ve just met. I’m not asking for a commitment, but I do think we’d enjoy each other’s company immensely. There’s no need to postpone that until your professional problems are solved, is there? Surely your performance in the Eclipse and in bed require two entirely different sets of skills.”

Dez wasn’t surprised by her persistence, but it definitely made further efforts to end her pursuit tedious. “That’s certainly true,” he told her, “but performance and involvement demand different parts of the body, and I’m not interested in one without the other.” He had heard that complaint voiced by more than one woman, but he never expected to use it himself. He had always bid such women a prompt goodbye and gone on to find another who demanded no more than the abundant physical pleasure he always gave. What sickened him most was not that he had borrowed a comment once directed at him, but that he finally understood what it meant when it was too late to matter.

Rivera stared at Dez for an uncomfortably long moment before finally deciding he was sincere rather than simply jaded. “What you’re really saying is that I can’t touch your heart, isn’t it?”

Dez nodded, and reaching for his ale, drained the tankard. “Exactly.” How he had allowed himself to be led into such a distressing conversation he didn’t know. “If you’d rather I leave, I will.”

Rivera shrugged, then rose and smoothed her gown around her hips, again drawing attention to her superb figure. “You’re here and dinner’s ready. Come on, let’s eat.”

Grateful she had dropped the sultry innuendos, Dez followed her into the dining alcove where a black lacquer table was set with gold utensils and dishes. Red napkins were the only other touch of color. “You have elegant taste. That’s unusual in a math professor.”

“There’s nothing more elegant than mathematics, Major,” Rivera insisted, and while discouraged the evening was not going to end as she had hoped, she nevertheless served a delicious meal, and was as charming a companion as she could possibly be.

Taking care to remain in the shadows, Blaise sat down on the wall across from Dez’s apartment. She had expected him to be at home at that hour, and couldn’t help but wonder what he had found to do with his time now that he wasn’t spending it with her.

Couldn’t he mourn the loss of their love for even one night?

Every time she recalled the dismay that had filled his expression when she and Blair had walked into his class, she became physically ill. She had not been able to eat anything for the remainder of the day, and even now, late at night, she was too sick over the way he had treated her to be hungry. Her head was pounding with a painful headache, but it didn’t compare with the agony tearing at her heart.

She had never become involved in casual affairs; her previous romantic relationships had all been lengthy and she had always been the one to bring them to an end. She had attempted to draw each romance to a close as considerately as possible to spare her lover’s feelings, but Dez had not shown an ounce of compassion for hers. No, all he had cared about was how loving her might harm his already damaged career.

How could he have been so selfish? she cried. How could he have reduced something so incredibly good to a shameful alliance he insisted had to end? How could he have been so needlessly cruel?

Slumped dejectedly, she sat in the dark, waiting, aching with longing for the tender, loving man she had believed him to be. He had accused her of deceiving him, but obviously he was a master of deception. He had convinced her that he loved her, after all, and clearly that had only been a convenient lie. Apparently she had provided a diverting interlude and nothing more.

Hearing footsteps approaching, she remainded in the shadows until Dez appeared; even then she waited until he had pressed the code to open his door before she slid down off the wall and stepped out of the shadows to greet him. “We need to talk, and I’m assuming you’d rather not do it out here on the walk where your neighbors will surely overhear.”

Dez had left Rivera’s early, but had gone for a rambling stroll around the base rather than return to the apartment, where his memories of Blaise would surely torment him. “Go home,” he replied wearily. “We’ve nothing more to say to each other.”

“Oh yes, we have,” Blaise replied in a steady voice that rang with a clarity that threatened to wake not merely his closest neighbors but those several doors away as well.

“Hush,” he scolded, and grabbing her hand, he pulled her through the door and hit the button to close it. He glared at her then, and even in the dim illumination of the single lamp he had left burning, the anger etched on his handsome face was plain. His brows were drawn together in a fierce frown, his dark eyes narrowed to menacing slits, and his mouth set in a hostile snear.

Blaise had had all day to rehearse what she wanted to say, and she prayed it would be persuasive enough to move him. She spoke in a low, thoughtful tone now. “Perhaps I should have introduced myself as a cadet the afternoon we met, but I had no idea how far our initial conversation would lead. Later, I thought you had more courage than to allow the academy’s archaic rules to influence your choice of friends.

“In my view, we have something far too precious to throw away just because the academy forbids fraternizing between instructors and cadets. No one has seen us together before today, and if we continue to be as discreet, there’s no reason why we can’t stay together until I graduate, when our being a couple will no longer be a problem. The joy we’ve found together proves how right I was to keep my identity a secret, and our love can remain a secret for as long as it’s a danger to you.”

In a vain effort to hold his temper, Dez drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly, but his fists were still knotted at his sides. “The essence of love is commitment,” he finally replied, “but the commitment on your side didn’t include the honesty to tell me who you were when you were well aware how great a threat a relationship with a cadet posed for me. I can’t forgive that, Rebel—Blaise—and as far as I’m concerned, whatever we had was a sham and I’m glad it’s over. Now I’d like you to go.”

Rather than leave, Blaise moved toward the win-dows where she saw as much hope in the blackness of the night as she had in Dez’s eyes. “As I recall, you never once asked my last name. I thought you were simply so thrilled to meet me you didn’t care. Was it merely an oversight?”

Dez took a step toward her and then thought better of it and stayed put. Aching to hold her, he jammed his hands in his pants pockets. “I’ll admit I rushed you, but you would have stopped me cold had you told me you were Edric Quinn’s daughter. You knew that too, didn’t you? How can you have been so damn selfish?”

Blaise spun back toward him. “You think I’m selfish?” she scoffed. “That’s absurd. All week I’ve encouraged you to fly the Eclipse, so you’d regain the confidence you’d lost. I did that for you, Dez, not merely to give my own ego a boost. I love you, and I don’t want to lose you just because the academy forbids any involvement between cadets and instructors! The academy has no feelings for lovers, no heart that can be broken.”

Unmoved by her impassioned plea, Dez shook his head. “Why is it women feel any underhanded trick is justified if it gets them the man they want? Well, you won, you got me, but I won’t stay with you when you obviously glory in the type of feminine conniving I absolutely can’t abide. There’s no love without truth, and other than vague references to roommates, you didn’t even hint at who you were.

“You shared my bed last night, and while I didn’t dream it would be the last time, I can promise you it was. Now I want you out of my quarters, and out of my life. I’d ask for your promise that you won’t reveal anything about the Eclipse, but frankly, I don’t trust you to keep your word. Transfer out of my class, and use the same brilliant level of deception you’ve used on me to convince your fellow cadets that we don’t know each other.”

Blaise was outraged, but kept her voice low and controlled. “I can’t believe you’d throw away what we have.”

Relaxing his pose, Dez rested his hands on his hips. “Don’t kid yourself. The sex was great, but that’s all it was, and I can find plenty of that elsewhere.”

Deeply insulted by his indifference, Blaise finally moved to the door. “You reek of Rivera Coraggio’s perfume. That you would jump into her bed so quickly after I shared yours says it all, doesn’t it? Apparently you regarded me as just an amusing diversion before the semester started, while you meant everything to me. Thanks for the lesson, Major. You can consider me your star pupil, but to pretend that we never met outside class is what I’d call masculine conniving of the lowest sort, and I don’t want any part of it. Don’t worry. I’ll keep our affair a secret because it would hurt too much to ever reveal how badly you’ve betrayed me.”

“I’m the one who was betrayed!” Dez bellowed.

Blaise lost all patience with him. “You’re an insufferably conceited lying sonofabitch and I hope you discover what went wrong with the Eclipse before the week is out so Aurora will transfer you and spare me the agony of having to look at you ever again!”

She slapped the button to open the door and darted through it before Dez could respond with a stinging retort, but he could not understand how she could twist around what had happened between them so completely that he was in the wrong rather than her. He closed the door and marveled as he always had at how women blamed men whenever they didn’t get their own way. Only this time, Blaise Quinn had the power to destroy him, and he could only pray that she was too proud to use it.

Blair had waited up for his sister, and when he heard her slip in the back door, he crossed the hall to her room. When she came in, he did not have to ask her how things had gone. Her tears told him all he needed to know. “It doesn’t look as though Sanchez was in a conciliatory mood.”

Blaise wiped her eyes on the back of her hand. “No, he wasn’t and neither am I. The bastard made it plain he cares more about his career than he ever did about me. He says I deceived him, but that’s exactly what he was doing when he said he loved me. What he really meant was that he loved me as long as there was no increased risk to his already tarnished reputation.”

Blair wasn’t even tempted to defend Sanchez. He slammed his fist into his open palm. “Do you want me to pay him a visit? I think it’s time someone taught him some manners, and he can’t complain that I’m harassing him without revealing his involvement with you, and he won’t dare do that.”

Blaise sank down on the side of her bed and looked up at her brother. Bare-chested, he had the same sleek, muscular build as Dez. They were about the same height and weight, too. Dez might have more experience, but Blair was eight years younger and that would be an advantage if they got into a lengthy fight.

“Don’t waste your time on him,” she cautioned. “He’s not worth it.”

“Until this morning, you thought he was.”

Blaise nodded toward the clock on her desk. It was after 1:00 a.m. “It was yesterday morning, and that feels like a very long time ago. Just go to bed, and I’ll deal with Desmond Sanchez in my own way.”

A slow smile curled across Blair’s lips. “Sounds exciting. Are you sure you won’t need my help?”

“Positive. I’m not going to need anything ever again.”

Startled by the darkness of her vow, Blair hesitated to leave. Blaise looked exhausted, and he had never seen her so bitterly discouraged. He wouldn’t go see Major Sanchez if she didn’t want him to, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t continue to confront him in class every chance he got.

“What had you expected him to do when he discovered who you were?”

His question prompted a fresh burst of tears. “I thought he truly loved me, Blair, so I didn’t think it would matter. I did expect him to be startled at first, but I never dreamed he’d turn on me the way he has. I just thought we’d continue to meet in secret. It never once occurred to me that he’d be so furious he’d not want anything more to do with me.”

Blair reached out to tousle her hair. “Major Sanchez is a fool, and he’ll regret losing you for the rest of his life. Get some sleep, and we’ll talk again tomorrow.”

“Thanks, but I’d rather forget I ever knew the man. Night.” Blaise remained seated on her bed long after Blair had returned to his room. Finally she just fell over and went to sleep without bothering to remove the green flight suit she had once been so proud to wear, but in her dreams the uniform was a taunting reminder of a barrier she now feared she ought not to have crossed.

Seizing the initiative, in the morning Dez went straight to Edric Quinn’s office before class. Although busy with the first week’s annual quota of problems,

Colonel Quinn agreed to see him immediately. A man in his early fifties, he was lean and fit. His blond hair was slightly flecked with gray, but that only served to make the blue of his eyes all the more striking. While Dez thought Blair resembled him slightly, he now knew Blaise favored her mother and he wished he had been smart enough to realize that the afternoon they had met.

“It’s my policy to be available to my staff whenever the need arises,” Edric greeted him, “but I must say I’m surprised to see you here so soon. What’s the problem?”

Dez understood the commandant’s mixed message clearly: he was always available, but he did not like to be disturbed. Dez had been called to the commandant’s office more often than he should have been as a cadet, and other than a fresh coat of paint, the handsomely decorated room was unchanged. A wide expanse of windows provided a magnificent view of the spacecraft arriving and departing the base, while photographs of the academy’s graduating classes lined the other three walls. Dez counted back eight years from the last one on display and tried to remember where he had been standing, but he wasn’t close enough to see.

Edric’s crisply tailored gray uniform contrasted sharply with Dez’s comfortably worn flight suit, but he had been through too much lately to be intimidated by the man’s rank, fastidious appearance, or even the memories of the reprimands he had received in that very office in years past. “I’ve no problems to report,” he explained as he took the chair opposite Edric’s teakwood desk.

“In fact, my cadets seem to be an unusually capable group, but I’m surprised that you wished to place your son and daughter with me. After all, I’m the least experienced of the instructors on your staff, and I believe they’d learn more with one of the others.”

Edric frowned pensively, leaned back in his chair, and steepled his fingers over his chest. “I don’t appreciate criticism on the way I’ve chosen to educate my children, Major. I realize Blair enjoys challenging authority, but he and Blaise have been ranked either first or second in their class the entire time they’ve been enrolled here. It’s a toss-up as to which one will graduate in the top spot, although it’s unfortunate they really have no competition except each other. I assigned them to you because, frankly, you stand to benefit most from having them in your class.”

Dumbfounded by that remark, Dez tried to imagine how, but failed. “It looks to me as though I have the most to lose, sir. Now, I realize I haven’t been here long enough to deserve any favors, but I would like to respectfully request that Blair and Blaise be assigned to another instructor.”

Edric Quinn sat up straight and regarded Dez with a cold stare. “The answer is no. Don’t let them intimidate you. They’re gifted pilots who are so close to being certified to fly Scorpions your class will merely be a review. Assign them special projects. Blaise is the superior mechanic. She could maintain half our fleet in her spare time if I’d permit it, which I won’t. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a stack of requisitions to approve.”

Knowing a dead end when he ran smack into it, Dez left the commandant’s office. Rather than having solved his problem, he was even more worried than when he had arrived. He had let Rebel—or Blaise, as he would strive to remember to call her—fly the Eclipse, thinking she was a gardener who knew a few basic maneuvers. Now he knew she was close to qualifying to fly a Scorpion, and if she were as fine a mechanic as her father boasted, then she understood more about the experimental ship than he had had any right to reveal. He could feel the cold sweat trickling down his back as he walked into class and saw her seated beside her brother in the front row.

“Good morning,” he greeted the waiting cadets, and Blaise was the only one who failed to respond in kind, simply staring at the floor. When he began a discussion of the Scorpion’s capabilities, she still wouldn’t look up at him. He would be flying with each of the cadets assigned to him, and the prospect of sharing the two-man scout ships with either Blaise or Blair was an ordeal he had done his best to avoid. Just because Edric wouldn’t change their instructor didn’t mean he couldn’t inspire them to request a change themselves.

“I’m sorry you don’t find my presentation compelling, Ms. Quinn, but I assure you, mastering this information is essential not merely for your success but for your very survival as a pilot.”

Again, Blaise stubbornly refused to look at him. “I not only know how to fly a Scorpion, Major, I could assemble one from spare parts, so you haven’t told me anything I don’t already know.”

A low murmur passed through the class as the cadets exchanged guesses on how Dez would handle her insolence. He recognized her comment as a clear challenge to his authority. Not about to back down, he forced a smile. “Is there anyone else who feels ready to take the final written exam? We’ll get that out of the way first, and then I’ll schedule the performance test. Frankly, the more cadets I can qualify now, the easier my job will be. How many of you are ready to try?”

Only Blaise and Blair raised their hands, and there wasn’t anything in the least bit hesitant about their gestures. Clearly they possessed the confidence to begin solo flights immediately. This wasn’t how Dez had hoped to get them out of his class, but because it would work, he was willing to go along with them.

“I’d like to fly with you today just to observe your technique, and I’ll make arrangements for you to take the written exam this evening. Will nineteen hundred hours be a good time for you?”

“It’s fine,” Blair answered for them both.

“All right. I want to spend an hour with each of you, and then we’ll go to half-hour segments for the rest of the class.” Dez announced the times for the other cadets’ flights, then dismissed the group and walked over to the hangar where the Scorpions assigned to his students were housed. Blair and Blaise trailed behind him.

“Which one of you wants to be first?” Dez asked.

“I will.” Blaise walked over to the small triangular ship at the entrance of the hangar, climbed the ramp, sat down in the pilot’s seat, plunked on a silver helmet, and began running through the preflight checklist she had had memorized for years.

“Good luck,” Blair called.

Dez paused on the ramp. “I don’t think she heard you.”

“I was talking to you, Major.”

The taunting gleam in Blair’s eyes made it plain he knew all about their affair, but Dez merely nodded rather than deal with him now. He continued on up the ramp and closed the hatch. He took the copilot’s seat and also donned a helmet. “I’m trying to be as professional as I possibly can and I’m counting on you to follow my example.”

“That’s a mistake, Major,” Blaise warned him, “because I’m just as likely to slam this ship into the ground as I am to bring you back safely.”

Tears had given her voice a husky edge, but Dez mistook the change for anger. “Lesson one,” he replied, “is to always leave your emotions in the hangar, because a preoccupied pilot is a danger not only to himself but to everyone in the sky and on the ground. Now I expect you to show me how well you can fly, not how much you despise me. If you can’t do it, then we’ll reschedule this exercise for another day.”

Blaise turned toward him, her amber gaze as cold as her words. “When you don’t follow a principle of detachment yourself, how can you expect it from me?”

She had him there, Dez wouldn’t deny it. “You’re right. The first time we flew together in the Eclipse, I was shaking so hard I could barely hang on to the controls. While it was something I had to do, it was a mistake to involve you. As your instructor, however, I have to insist upon safety as our first priority. So from now on, try and forget anything you may have seen me do, and stick to the recommended procedures. Now I’ll ask you again, can you fly this craft safely, or would you rather postpone this flight?”

“I can fly a Scorpion in my sleep.”

“Blaise,” Dez warned, “it’s just that type of cocky attitude that’s gotten pilots killed. This morning your father refused to transfer you and Blair to another class, but if you’re going to be preoccupied with getting even with me rather than proving how well you can pilot this ship, then I’m going to have to insist that you convince him to give you another instructor. I won’t allow you to risk your life. I absolutely refuse.”

“Careful, Major, for a moment there it almost sounded as though you still have feelings for me.”

“Of course I still have feelings for you, but I’m not going to act on them ever again. Now, either you give me an exemplary performance, or you get another instructor. Which is it to be?”

Blaise radioed the tower and requested permission for takeoff. “I can make birds envious Major. Just hang on to your helmet.”

In the week they’d spent together, Blaise had been playful, teasing, a joy in every way, but Dez was seeing a whole new side to her personality that day. Nona Chane had suggested he qualify her and her brother ahead of the rest of his class and assign them solo reconnaissance flights, and that was exactly what he intended to do. They had not been in the air five minutes before he was convinced Blaise was a natural who flew with the same instinctive talent he had once had, and was fighting to regain. She was a born pilot, and rather than simply observing her, he requested the necessary sequence of maneuvers required to certify her for solo flights. She performed them all with an ease that would have put many a pilot with years of experience to shame.

Impressed, Dez tried to find a way to compliment her, but the words stuck in his throat. “How does Blair compare to you?” he asked instead.

“You’re the instructor, Major. You’ll have to decide for yourself.”

“Yes, I intend to, but I thought you might have an opinion.”

“I have all kinds of perceptive opinions, but you’ve made it plain you don’t want to hear them.”

The Scorpion was nearly silent in flight, but Dez’s mind was a riot of conflicting thoughts. He was still furious with Blaise for not revealing her identity, and intellectually he knew as long as she was a cadet, she was worse than poison. Emotionally, however, he could still feel the softness of her stardusted skin next to his, and being with her when he couldn’t savor that thrill was sheer torture.

“I’ve seen enough,” he announced after they had been aloft only half an hour. “If you pass the written test this evening, you can start solo flights tomorrow. Take us back to the base.”

Blaise was sorely tempted to fly out over La Ultima, but curbed the impulse. Sitting next to Dez when she could no longer lean over and kiss him or touch his hand brought back the sickening wave of sorrow that had plagued her all of yesterday. But she refused to cry in front of him. She piloted the sleek Scorpion back to base and brought it in for a perfect landing beside the hangar, where her brother sat waiting. He waved and started toward them.

Dez hurriedly opened the hatch and went down the ramp to give Blaise room to exit the ship. She left the helmet on the pilot’s seat, wished Blair good luck, and walked off without so much as a thank you for Dez. He watched her until Blair cleared his throat with a noisy cough.

“You’re in real trouble, Major,” he advised as he started up the ramp. “You might be able to keep your hands off my sister, but the whole story’s in your eyes.”

“You’ll confine your remarks to the subject of flight, Mr. Quinn. I went ahead and qualified your sister for solo flights. Let’s see if you’re equally competent.”

“I’m a hell of a lot more than competent, Major,” the young man boasted as he picked up the helmet and dropped into the pilot’s seat.

Dez slammed the hatch shut and took his seat. “Show me,” he replied, and with the same extraordinary ease his sister had demonstrated, Blair did. When they returned to the hangar, Dez offered the congratulations he had not been able to give Blaise. He filed their performance certificates with Nona Chane and picked up the written exams, but he certainly wasn’t looking forward to being alone with the Quinn twins that night.

Chapter Five

After a tasteless dinner in the academy cafeteria, Dez walked over to his classroom a few minutes early and found Blaise, Blair, and their father already waiting for him. He had not expected to have to justify his decision to give the twins the final exam, but the commandant’s scowl made it plain he would have to, and eloquently. Dez hoped that would be all he would have to explain.

“Good evening, Colonel.”

Edric Quinn responded with a curt nod. “I need to speak with you, Major.” He turned to the twins. “You two will wait out here.”

As Edric strode through the door, Dez shot a glance toward the twins and their hate-filled stares stopped him cold. This is the end, he thought. Blaise had told her father about their affair. He was finished, and not merely with the academy, but with the whole Aurora Corporation as well.

Seeing him pale, Blaise shook her head. “I told you I was good at keeping secrets,” she whispered, “and so is Blair. Your precious reputation isn’t on the line, at least not tonight it isn’t.”

Relieved beyond measure, Dez breathed a quick “Thank you” and followed the commandant into the classroom. He smiled easily and gestured toward the first row of seats. “Would you care to sit down, sir?”

“No, this won’t take but a minute.” Edric clasped his hands behind his back, rocked back on his heels, and launched into what was clearly a strongly held opinion. “I don’t approve of your allowing my son and daughter to complete their training this early, Major. When I suggested special assignments, I did not mean the final exam.”

Dez briefly reviewed the flights he had made with Blaise and Blair that morning and his conclusions. “They proved they were fully qualified or I’d not have offered this option. Of course, they still have to pass the written portion of the exam. It’s difficult, and perhaps rather than discuss this issue any further, we should wait and see how they do.”

“They’ll undoubtedly make perfect scores, but their performance isn’t really the issue. Yours is. I gave you a direct order this morning, Major, to keep my twins in your class. You immediately found a way to remove them. Circumventing my order was exactly the same as willfully disobeying it.”

Dez did not need to speculate on how the righteous Colonel Edric Quinn would react should he discover he had slept with Blaise. That made taking criticism for this issue, which was insignificant by comparison, very easy to bear. “I’m sorry you look at it that way, sir. I wanted what was best for Blaise and Blair. They’re very bright and need to be challenged to excel. They would have been bored witless had they been forced to remain in a class where they’d already mastered all the material.”

“Special assignments would have taken care of that, but you chose not to give them,” Edric argued. Raising a hand in an emphatic gesture, he took a step closer. “I’m warning you, Major, if either of my chil-dren encounters even the slightest problem, and I mean the most insignificant difficulty imaginable when they begin solo flights, I’ll hold you personally responsible.”

Dez had never found anything more uncomfortable than talking with a man while he was sleeping with his daughter, and it was especially harrowing in this case. Shoving that embarrassment aside, he struggled to behave in as thoroughly professional as manner as a competent flight instructor should. “Please believe me, I’m as concerned for their safety as you and their mother are, and I intend to maintain strict supervision of their solo flights. You needn’t worry. I’ll keep a close watch on them.”

“See that you watch all your cadets,” Edric countered, “and the next time I give you an order, follow it to the letter.” His dark scowl hadn’t lifted, and he left the room with the same long, determined stride with which he had entered. Several minutes passed before Blaise and Blair came into the classroom.

Certain their father had just been equally tough on them, Dez actually felt sorry for the twins. After all, he would only have to contend with Edric Quinn for a semester or two, but they had been forced to grow up with him. He slapped one set of test materials down on the last seat in the front row and then walked to the first seat to leave the other.

“I’ve heard twins often have their own special brand of telepathy, but because you’ll be flying alone, it would not only be foolhardy to cheat on this exam, it would be dangerous as well.” He looked up at them and grinned. “Besides, I’m curious as to which of you is the superior student.”

Blair took his usual place at the end of the row. “You’ve obviously satisfied your curiosity about everything else,” he mumbled under his breath.

Dez caught enough of Blair’s comment to want to hear it all. “Would you care to repeat that remark?”

Blair relaxed into a comfortable slouch. “Sure,” he replied, and with a challenging nonchalance, he complied with Dez’s request.

Dez started toward him, but Blaise reached out and caught his elbow. “That’s enough, you two. We came to take a test, not to trade insults.”

Dez halted. Caught between the twins, he could feel their energy as strongly as Altair’s heat at noon. It throbbed through him, scorching his conscience as well as his skin. He hurriedly stepped toward the lectern to break the connection. They were Skychildren, he reminded himself, and all their abilities were superb, but men from Earth had proven their worth long before the first Skychild had been born.

“If your brother wishes to consider this a matter of honor, I will be more than happy to oblige him.”

“I’m of age, Major, and if I want my honor avenged, then I’ll do it myself. Now will you two please shut up so that I can take this blasted test and get out of here.” Blaise slipped into her seat and slit open the sealed booklet with her pale pink nails.

Blair continued to regard Dez with a threatening stare, making it plain he believed his sister’s honor was indeed his concern. She had already completed the first two pages before he deigned to open his test booklet. Each time he finished a calculation, he looked up to again engage Dez in a visual battle of wills. If he were at all nervous about taking the test, he hid it as well as his sister.

Restless, Dez began to pace.

Blaise sighed unhappily. “Major, please. That’s terribly distracting.”

“Sorry.” He moved behind the lectern and sat down on the tall stool. The exam encompassed navi-gational computations as well as general aviation questions. As he recalled, it was extremely difficult. He flipped through the instructor’s booklet, read the questions, attempted to do them in his head, and then checked his responses against the answer key. He recognized the wording of only a couple of items. The rest had been rewritten since he had taken the test in his senior year.

He couldn’t recall if he had taken it in that room or the one across the hall, but he had been elated when the grades had been posted and he had gotten the highest score. The uncomfortable sensation of being watched prompted him to glance up. He found the twins observing him, their amber eyes glowing with a virulent hatred he had to fight to ignore. Confident they couldn’t kill him with their version of the evil eye, he stared right back at them until they finally returned to the test.

He realized then that he had forgotten to make a note of the time they had begun working. He checked the classroom clock and was disappointed to see it was only twenty minutes past the hour. They were allowed ninety minutes for the exam, and he was positive the experience would prove far more wearing on him than it would on them. He rolled up the sleeves of his flight suit, but unfortunately felt no more comfortable.

Blaise felt only numb. She worked with a methodical precision, did her calculations in the space provided, checked them, wrote her answer, and moved on to the next. She finished before Blair, but remained seated. They had quizzed each other that afternoon and he had known as much as she, but he had never worked as rapidly. Because she had been born first, he had always teased her about being in a rush, but her natural pace was merely faster than his.

She folded her hands in her lap and stared at the back of the test booklet rather than at the instructor whose class she wanted so desperately to escape. She knew him so well, she did not need to look at him to remember the warmth of his smile or the fire of his kisses. She shifted in her seat, but it was impossible to find a comfortable pose when all she wanted was Dez, and the passion he now stubbornly refused to share. She hated him for that, but it didn’t stop the longing that made her whole body ache with desire.

Dez had noticed that Blaise was finished, and thought about retrieving her test to score it, but he didn’t want to be accused of disturbing Blair, so he remained seated. He had stolen frequent glances at Blaise and each time he had felt the same sharp stab of betrayal. She was like him in so many ways, but he couldn’t forgive her for endangering his career in a forbidden romance she had no right to begin. She was a senior and expected to be a responsible officer in less than a year. He would have expected better of her. A whole lot better.

After completing the last question, Blair picked up Blaise’s booklet and carried it along with his up to Dez. They had finished the exam well under the time limit and, anxious to see how they had done, they both waited for him to score it. Blaise remained in her seat, but Blair peered over the lectern to watch as Dez checked their scores.

Dez had already known Blaise was bright, and her calculations were done in quick strokes without a single erasure. He had had three errors the day he had received the top score in his class, but she hadn’t missed a single answer. “Excellent work, Ms. Quinn. You’ve a perfect score.”

“Just think what I might have been able to do after a whole semester in your class.”

“A simple thank you would have been enough,” Dez shot back at her.

Blair rapped on the side of the lectern to catch his instructor’s attention. “Major, I’d like to see how I did too.”

Dez’s gaze lingered on Blaise, but she failed to soften her expression and he knew he was wasting his time waiting. “Of course, just give me a minute.” He scanned the pages of Blair’s booklet. While Blair’s calculations weren’t nearly as neat as his sister’s, he had also aced the exam. “You scored one hundred percent, too. Congratulations to you both.

“I’ll post your assignments in our hangar each morning before I teach class. Get your solo flights out of the way early and you won’t have any difficulty getting a Scorpion. Your father made it plain he’d hold me personally responsible should you receive so much as a paper cut, so please be careful for my sake, as well as your own.”

The twins eyed him coolly. As Blair turned toward the door, Blaise left her seat and they walked out of the classroom together. Neither thanked him for the opportunity to take the test early. Dez didn’t know what he had expected, but he supposed insolence was preferable to the malicious revenge they might have taken. Still, he was disappointed not to have reached a truce.

During class the next morning, Dez kept glancing toward the empty seats at the end of the first row. Even absent, he was haunted by the Quinn twins. He buried himself in the material he was expected to transmit. Without Blaise and Blair, his cadets were an eager group who leaned forward, anticipating his every word. They had cheered when he had announced how well the Quinns had done on the final exam, but none was inspired to try the same feat.

After class, Dez walked over to the hangar with Sarah Bemis, the cadet whose flight lesson was scheduled first. She was a vivacious redhead who asked frequent questions during class and talked the whole way to the field of her dream to join Aurora’s Expeditionary Force. Dez nodded. Grateful that she was carrying the conversation, he added a word of encouragement here and there. She was anxious to fly, but when they reached the hangar, the Scorpion Dez had expected to use wasn’t there.

“Where’s my ship?” he called to the mechanics who serviced the spacecraft between flights.

The three mechanics huddled briefly, and when shoved by his two coworkers, one finally walked over to Dez. He was a tall, skinny young man whose blue overalls weren’t quite long enough to reach his ankles and wrists. A dab of grease clung to his left earlobe, and his blond hair looked as though it was seldom grazed by a comb. The name, Dolan, was stenciled on his breast pocket.

“Well now, Major,” the mechanic began in a halting drawl, “your ship’s out at the moment, but we can fuel a backup for you in no time at all.”

Dez knew without having to ask that Blaise or Blair must have his ship. He had thought he had made it plain that he wanted them to complete their flights early so there would be no conflict with his schedule. At least he thought he had made that point, but he couldn’t swear to it. “Who has it?” he asked.

Dolan shifted his weight from one scuffed boot to the other. “Blaise Quinn, Major. She must have lost track of the time.”

Dez felt a rush of terror that curled around his heart and threatened to still its beat. “You mean her flight’s overdue? Solo flights are scheduled for fifty minutes. How long has she been gone?”

Dolan looked over at his friends. They shrugged, and looking as sheepish as he, offered no help at all. “Fifty minutes, sir, and then some.”

Blaise was so remarkably pretty, Dez could easily understand why the mechanic was covering for her, but he was outraged all the same. “Have you notified the tower that a cadet’s overdue?”

Shifting his feet, Dolan glanced nervously past their hangar to the next, where Nona Chane was talking with several cadets. “No, sir, but it’s early yet.”

“Has she contacted the base to report mechanical difficulties?”

The mechanic shoved his hands into his pockets and directed his comment toward his boots. “No, sir.”

Sara Bemis was staring up at Dez, her green eyes wide, and he again had to fight to maintain the composure expected of a conscientious flight instructor. “Wonderful. The commandant’s daughter is overdue on her first solo flight and no one bothers to notify the tower? Where’s her brother?”

Dolan began to back away. “Blair took the ship up first, sir, and I haven’t seen him since he landed.”

Glad that at least one of the twins was safe, Dez walked into the hangar and contacted the tower from the communications panel just inside the doors. The controllers didn’t have Blaise on their screens so she wasn’t making her return approach. He walked back outside and sucked in the fuel-scented air in a futile attempt to regard this potential catastrophe as no more than a bothersome nuisance.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Bemis, but Ms. Quinn is my responsibility and even though we could use another Scorpion, I won’t take you up until I’m positive she’s safe.”

Badly frightened, Sara’s lip trembled slightly. “Do you think she’s crashed?”

A roiling wave of nausea rose in his throat and Dez swallowed hard to force it down. “No, she’s an excellent pilot, and I believe she’s simply taking advantage of my good nature to extend her time.” At least he prayed that was what she was doing. He raised his hand to shade his eyes and scanned the sky. Another of the instructors was taking off, but there were no returning flights in view.

He began to pace in front of the hangar, while Dolan made the most of his chances to impress Sara Bemis by describing how thoroughly he checked out the Scorpions between the cadets’ flights. The young man’s voice rose and fell in a comforting rhythm, but Dez was torn between the nearly suffocating horror that something might really have happened to Blaise, and his anger that she was deliberately taunting him to find the sound of the conversation soothing. When one of the mechanics still lounging by the hangar doors shouted that a ship was coming in, he turned to look up, and watched in pain-wracked silence as Blaise brought the Scorpion in for a perfect landing nearly a half hour late.

He remained by the hangar, so angry he could barely see. When Blaise opened the hatch, Dolan rushed up to meet her. She removed her helmet, shook out her hair, and gestured for him to follow her around to the rear of the ship. Seething while the pair conferred, Dez knew if Blaise could repair any mechanical difficulty she may have encountered, she could just as easily have caused a problem she could then blame for her tardy return to base. Rather than shout that bitter accusation, he forced himself to walk over to the Scorpion and wait for whatever ridiculous excuse she might choose to present, but as she started toward him, he lost what little control he had kept on his temper.

“Last night you correctly answered questions relating to the proper procedures to be followed if a flight is delayed for any reason. Did you think they were merely suggestions, Ms. Quinn? Or did you consider yourself exempt from the rules the rest of Aurora’s pilots are required to follow?”

Once he began berating Blaise, Dez grew positively inspired. “You’re not careless, nor are you simply absentminded. No, you just put your ship down and waited until you were good and ready to come back. How long did you think it would take before I went wild with worry and came after you?” He shoved her back against the side of the Scorpion.

“Is there no limit to how far you’ll go to humiliate me?” he shouted.

His hands were on her shoulders, his fingers gouging into her flesh, and Blaise could feel tremors of rage coursing through him, but again it was plain he had been worried only about himself rather than any possible danger to her. Before she could again tell him exactly what she thought of him, Nona Chane called out to him.

“Major Sanchez! What’s going on here?” Clearly more stunned by Dez’s violent outburst than Blaise was, Nona rested her hands on her hips, her short black hair shining in the morning light, her blue eyes snapping with a fiery sparkle. She was as tall as Blaise and used to being obeyed, presented an imposing image.

Dolan and the two other mechanics had drawn near, and along with Sara Bemis and the cadets who had trailed Nona Chane, Dez had quite an audience for his response. He lowered his hands but didn’t break eye contact with Blaise for a long moment.

Then he turned to face Nona. “I think Ms. Quinn ought to answer your question.”

Blaise pulled the collar of her flight suit back into place, but she directed her answer to Dez rather than Nona. “My ship developed a clog in the fuel line. I put down to clear it, and neglected to notify the base of the delay.”

There was grease under her fingernails and stains on her green flight suit that corroborated her story, but Nona couldn’t excuse her disregard of procedure any more than Dez could. “On your first solo flight?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Well, Major Sanchez, if you don’t ground her, I will.”

Still infuriated with Blaise, Dez didn’t believe simply grounding her was sufficient punishment for what she had done, but there was no way he could justify his opinion without compromising his own already precarious position. “You’re grounded until further notice, Ms. Quinn. Attend your other classes, and we’ll discuss your appreciation of Aurora’s rules during my office hours at the end of the week.”

“Yes, sir,” Blaise responded with such a faint hint of insolence only Dez caught it.

As she turned away, Nona touched Dez’s arm. “Before you begin your lessons, there’s something we have to discuss. Let’s step inside the hangar a minute.”

The small office just inside the hangar doors was used by flight instructors. Little more than a cubicle, it housed only a desk and a couple of chairs but when Nona shut the door, it was soundproof. She turned toward Dez, and the reason for their talk was etched in her livid expression. “That was the most disgraceful display I’ve ever observed here, Major, and I don’t think Blaise Quinn is the only one who ought to be grounded. How far would you have gone had I not arrived in time to stop you?”

Dez had no idea, but refused to admit it. All he knew was that the minutes Blaise had been overdue were among the worst of his life. “I know I overreacted, but the commandant’s daughter should have known better than to put down for repairs without notifying the base.” Dez’s heart was still racing, and he breathed deeply before breaking into what he hoped would be a disarming smile. “I want to succeed here, and if I have to ride my cadets hard to make them adhere to the academy’s rules, then that’s exactly what I’ll do.”

Successful in a career crowded with handsome men, Nona was unimpressed by Dez’s attempt at charm. “There’s a vast difference between enforcing our rules and abusing the cadets, Major. I consider your behavior gross misconduct, and I intend to write a report, but it will stay in my desk as long as there’s no repetition of what I saw today.

“Frankly, I think you’re lucky Ms. Quinn didn’t threaten to file a complaint against you for manhandling her. Violent displays of temper usually indicate a serious instability and that’s not healthy for you, or the cadets. It might be a good idea for you to stop by the medical unit and make an appointment for a checkup before you fly again.”

Dez shook his head. “An entire panel of medical experts has already cleared me to fly. Perhaps I was too loud with Ms. Quinn, but I can guarantee she’ll not make the same mistake again. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a cadet waiting for a lesson and thanks to Ms. Quinn, we’re way behind schedule.”

Nona had dealt with a great many cocky young pilots in her stay at the academy, but she recognized something more than mere bravado in Dez’s manner and that frightened her. “You’re a graduate of this academy so I’m assuming you’re well aware of the rule forbidding instructors from becoming involved with cadets.”

“Of course,” Dez assured her too quickly. “What’s your point?”

Nona looked him right in the eye. “I hope you have no other lapses in judgment, Major, because no matter how attractive Blaise Quinn is, she’s more trouble than a man in your situation needs.”

“Believe me, I’m well aware of what little margin I have for error, and you needn’t worry we’ll have to have any more of these little talks.”

“See that we don’t.”

Dez let her have the last word, but after he had left, Nona wrote down her impressions of the scene she had witnessed. She could not shake the uncomfortable sensation that Desmond Sanchez was close to the edge of a breakdown and could slip into violence again. While she had promised not to report him, she was troubled, and confided her fears in her best friend over lunch.

Rivera Corragio listened closely as Nona recounted the altercation between Dez and Blaise Quinn, but it didn’t sound anything like the maddeningly aloof behavior of the man who had been her dinner guest. Dez had been detached, coldly controlled in her home. Not wanting to admit his lack of interest in her to Nona, she didn’t share her own experience with him.

“He was exiled here,” she reminded Nona, “and he’s bound to be resentful and make mistakes until he learns the routine. Give him a chance. He’s the most exciting man to be stationed here in years, and I don’t want to see him have to leave.”

Nona knew Rivera’s appetites, and gave up any further attempt at a serious discussion of Desmond Sanchez’s behavior. She would watch him, though, and report him in an instant should he lose his temper and turn abusive with another of his cadets. “Earth-men are too volatile,” she complained. “I’d rather have a Skychild any day.”

Rivera didn’t disagree, but she was elated to learn that Dez had a more passionate nature than he had first revealed and vowed to arrange an opportunity to inspire it in him herself, and soon.

Still lacking all interest in food, Blaise sat out on the grass near the cafeteria while she waited for her first class of the afternoon to begin. Preoccupied, she plucked at the glossy turf. She didn’t notice the young man coming toward her until he called her name. When she looked up to find Jourdan Curry approaching, her mouth fell open in surprise. Quickly recovering, she got to her feet and greeted him with a warm hug.

Jourdan gave her a joyous squeeze and lifted her clear off her feet. “It’s been over two years,” he sighed against her cheek, “and I’ve missed you every day.”

Blaise rested her hands on his chest and unconsciously pushed him away. He had been three years ahead of her at the academy and they had once been in love. Now the year they had been inseparable was a dim memory. She still considered him a good friend, but nothing more. “Why didn’t you let me know you were coming?” she asked.

“There wasn’t time.” Jourdan was so excited to see her, he failed to note how quickly her welcoming smile had faded. “I’m trying to get on Project Eclipse, and because the prototype is stationed here, I leapt at the chance to come back to the academy. That you’re here only made the trip all the more worthwhile.”

Blaise’s first thought was not happiness at Jour-dan’s success as a test pilot, but how badly Dez would feel when he learned a potential replacement had arrived. After the miserable fight they had had that morning, she knew he could not possibly be in a good mood. She took Jourdan’s hand and urged him to sit down beside her on the glass.

“Does Desmond Sanchez know you’re here?”

“Not yet. Do you know him?”

Blaise chose not to describe how well. “He’s my flight instructor.”

“So you’ve met him at least.” Jourdan frowned slightly. “How does he seem to you? Frankly, his tale of being caught in some threatening cosmic ray has everyone worried about his sanity. He was the best test pilot Aurora ever had, but now he’s sure to be replaced on Project Eclipse, and I mean to get the first shot at his job.”

Jourdan was a handsome young man, with thick auburn hair that dipped low on his forehead and curled over his collar. His eyes were a clear green, and his skin deeply tanned. He was tall and fit, and Blaise had been the envy of many a female cadet when, during her freshman year, he had chosen her from among all the pretty possibilities. Eager to pursue his career, he had kept in touch as best he could after he had graduated, but neither had sworn undying love for the other. She felt comfortable with him, and on that day when she was very much in need of a friend, she was glad he was there.

“I met Dez while I was working in the gardens before classes began. Not realizing I was a cadet, he was very candid about his experience, and I believed him, Jourdan. I wouldn’t dismiss his story as some wild tale of a cosmic ray. He’s far too serious an individual to allow his imagination to play tricks on him.”

“Dez?” he mimicked. “Just how well did you get to know him, Blaise?”

Blaise plucked another blade of grass and shredded it with her thumbnail rather than return his inquisitive stare. “You know cadets and instructors are forbidden to mix, but he needed a sympathetic ear, and I listened. If you’re going to fly the Eclipse, then you need to know the truth, so don’t discount what he tells you.”

“I’ve applied for Project Eclipse, but so have half the pilots in the Expeditionary Force. Officially, I’m here just to recruit test pilots, but in my spare time, I plan to learn all I can about the Eclipse. If I can get a chance to fly it, then I’ll be ahead of all the others who want in on the project. I’ll admit it’s a devious approach, but the Eclipse is worth it.”

Blaise couldn’t help but laugh. “There’s nothing in the least bit devious about you, Jourdan. You’re one of the most honest and forthright men I’ve ever known.”

“I was afraid you’d forgotten me. What are you doing sitting out here all alone? Aren’t you going with someone?”

Before Dez, Blaise had been dating a senior who had graduated and left with fervent promises to remain in touch, but she hadn’t heard from him in months. Then there was Desmond Sanchez, who had tied her heart in knots. She looked up at Jourdan and smiled. “No. I’m as alone as I look. How about you?”

Jourdan shrugged. He had not been celibate since he had last seen her, but none of the women he had dated had meant as much to him as she had. “I’ve missed you,” he whispered, and when he leaned over to kiss her, he instantly remembered why.

Jourdan’s kiss was soft and sweet, but Blaise could still feel the heat of Dez’s hands on her shoulders. She pulled away as the tone sounded for the beginning of the afternoon classes, but it was with relief rather than regret. “Come have dinner with us,” she invited as she rose to her feet. “Everyone will be glad you’re back.”

Jourdan stood and took her hand. “Thank you, I’d like that. Come on, I’ll walk you to class.”

As they made their way across the grass, several cadets waved to Jourdan, and Blaise was glad he was remembered, but he wasn’t the man she would never be able to forget.

Blaise waited until her father had been home an hour before approaching him. He collected rock and mineral specimens from Aurora’s colonies, and was at his desk sorting his latest acquisitions when she paused at his study door. “I hate to bother you, Daddy, but could we talk a minute before dinner?”

Edric dropped a smooth silver stone into the corner compartment of his neatly organized tray. He laid his magnifying glass aside and leaned back in his chair. “The semester is only three days old, Blaise, but I can tell from your tone of voice that you’ve already gotten yourself into trouble. Come on in and tell me about it. I’ll undoubtedly be mortified, but you always have such inventive excuses that I can’t help but look forward to hearing your latest. First promise me it doesn’t involve Desmond Sanchez.”

Blaise was already dressed for dinner; the copper-colored sheath she wore brought out the golden fire in her amber eyes and tawny curls. She sat down on the edge of the desk and began to examine the rocks her father had been studying. A cluster of bright green crystals caught her attention and she turned it over in her hands.

“Unfortunately, it does,” she admitted. She de-

Chapter Six

scribed her first solo flight as routine until a clogged fuel line forced her to put down for repairs. “I knew I could clear it, so it just didn’t occur to me to notify the base about the problem. When I returned late, Major Sanchez grounded me, which he was well within his rights to do. I know that’s not an auspicious beginning in his course, but I’ve already passed the final exam, so it really doesn’t matter.”

Edric closed his eyes and massaged his temples lightly. His twins were his pride and joy, and also the source of endless aggravation. He considered them high-spirited rather than willfully disobedient, but the fact that his own children frequently ran afoul of the academy’s rules reflected very poorly on him as well as on them. He had begun thanking God each morning that this was their senior year.

“I have no doubt that you’ll one day captain one of Aurora’s massive expeditionary carriers, or a space station, and given time, you may gain a seat on the board and run the entire corporation, but before you have those opportunities, my darling, you have to graduate from this academy.”

“I know, Daddy.” Blaise was so depressed, she knew she must look repentent, but in truth, being grounded didn’t bother her at all. “I just don’t want you to blame Major Sanchez for my mistake.”

His sympathetic mood vanishing, Edric sat up abruptly. “He’s totally misplaced here, and it’s unfair to him as well as to us. The academy ought not to be used as a dumping ground for burned-out pilots, and I’ll be damned if I’ll allow myself to be talked into taking another one. When you have your own command, turn away everyone who comes to you asking for a favor. It’s the oldest trap in the universe. How long will you be grounded?”

“I don’t really know. Sanchez told me to check with him at the end of the week.”

“Well, act suitably contrite so he’ll reinstate you, and then follow every rule in the manual so this doesn’t happen again. In fact, be obsessively observant of the regulations, and tell Blair to do the same.”

“I will.” Blaise replaced the green crystals in the proper slot in the specimen tray and slid off the desk. “Do you remember Jourdan Curry? I’ve invited him to have dinner with us tonight.”

Edric left his chair and came around the desk. “Of course I remember him. He’s a fine man, and never gave me a minute’s worry. I saw his name on the recruiting roster. Looks as though he didn’t waste any time before contacting you.”

Her father’s smile strayed dangerously close to a gloat, but Blaise didn’t mind his teasing her where Jourdan was concerned. “He is nice, isn’t he?”

Blaise looped her arm through her father’s as they left the study. Because she dated cadets, he usually knew as much or more about the men in her life than she did. On more than one occasion he had warned her to be careful of a particular young man, and because his opinions had proved to be well founded, she valued his advice. Had she asked him, he would have forbidden her to see Dez, and not only because she was a cadet and he was an instructor.

Still, she didn’t think Dez was merely suffering from stress or burn-out. He might have disappointed her badly, but he had related the story of his near crash too convincingly for her to believe his brush with death had been caused by his imagination. Aurora was only one of five Earth corporations chartered for the exploration and colonization of space. With competition keen between all of them, industrial espionage was always a problem, and if another cor-poration had the technology to disable Aurora’s experimental ships, then the mysterious difficulty Dez had encountered was bound to reoccur.

Worried now for Jourdan, Blaise greeted him warmly when he arrived. He had spent so much time in her home before he had graduated, he took his place beside her at the dinner table without needing to be told where to sit. He winked at Blaise as her father began his nightly blessing, which included not merely a giving of thanks for the meal but a plea for the continued success of the Aurora Corporation and its splendid academy.

“I see nothing’s changed,” Jourdan leaned close to whisper.

Blaise nodded, and Blair began to question Jourdan about his duties as a test pilot. Predictably, the conversation quickly turned to Project Eclipse, and it was all Blaise could do to keep quiet about what she knew. She ate her salad with deep concentration, spearing the mixed greens with sharp jabs and chewing them thoroughly rather than enter in the discussion.

“I tried to speak with Major Sanchez,” Jourdan told them, “but he had flight lessons booked all afternoon and wasn’t available. Apparently he has a full schedule, but I’m still hoping there will be time for him to take me up in the Eclipse while I’m here. I understand he’s been flying it nearly every day. Have any of you seen it?”

Blair was seated across the table from Blaise and gave her a nudge with his foot, but she kept silent. “It’s kept in a separate hangar,” Blair complained, “so unless we happen by when Sanchez is preparing to take off, there’s no way to see it. I’ll bet he’ll take it out this weekend. Why don’t we just camp out on the field and wait for him to appear?”

“I already have recruiting appointments set up for all day Saturday,” Jourdan replied, “and most of Sunday afternoon. That’s why I was hoping to see Sanchez and talk him into taking me up with him. It’s still a good idea though, Blair. Why don’t you see if you can’t get a good look at the ship and then you can at least describe its design.”

The main course was one of Jasmine Quinn’s favorite recipes: golden peppers stuffed with a spicy mixture of tomatoes, corn, and rice, topped with tangy cheese. Blaise cut a bite with the side of her fork, and after a taste, gave her mother a richly deserved compliment. The men at the table heartily echoed her sentiments, but the conversation promptly returned to the Eclipse and even knowing she could answer all the questions Blair and Jourdan posed, Blaise kept still.

“Frankly, I’d not recommend flying with Sanchez even if he will take you up, which I doubt,” Edric warned. “I’ve kept a close check on him, and though he’s providing excellent instruction for his student pilots, that’s all been in the Scorpion. The Eclipse is reputed to be a powerful ship, and apparently it’s more than he can handle. If he couldn’t take the pressure, perhaps he actually believes he lost control due to an outside force rather than his own lack of skill. Isn’t this what happens to most test pilots, Jourdan: they’re effective until they hit the limit of their own courage, or competence?”

Knowing that was the general concensus, Jourdan chose his words with care. “Testing prototypes is a stressful job, there’s no doubt about it, but people have varying levels of tolerance for stress. Some leave after only a year or two, while others have lasted for a decade or more. Sanchez is something of a legend. He became known for running tests on his first flight in a prototype that other pilots would attempt only after half a dozen flights had given them the necessary confidence.

“While I admire his guts, I know I can achieve the same results without half the risks he takes.” As he continued, Jourdan’s manner was gently self-effacing rather than egotistical. “That’s why I was given the job to come here and recruit. Apparently I’m seen as not only as a competent test pilot, but as a deliberate, and intelligent one as well. My superiors want more like me.”

“And less like Sanchez?” Blair asked. “That’s a disappointment if they’re trading daring for caution. Do you suppose I have a chance of being selected?”

Jourdan smiled first at Blaise and then at her parents. “I certainly hope no one thinks it was improper of me to accept a dinner invitation to your home, Colonel, but I suppose it could be construed as an attempt to influence my recommendations.”

“Not with Blaise and Blair’s standing in their class,” Edric assured him. “If they were barely passing their courses, then perhaps someone might think our friendship improper, but when they excel in everything, there’s no reason to offer bribes.”

“Please,” Blair moaned. “Don’t talk about us as though we weren’t here.”

“Could we possibly discuss something other than the academy or the Eclipse?” Jasmine suggested. “Tell us something of your travels since we’ve last seen you, Jourdan. I’m sure you must have some interesting stories.”

“Probably none that he would want to tell in mixed company,” Blair joked.

Jasmine was such a charming woman, Jourdan did not want to disappoint her. “Most of my adventures don’t need to be censored,” he said with a laugh.

“Test pilots tend to have bad reputations, but that doesn’t mean they are always deserved.”

Blaise could not even imagine a man of Jourdan’s fine character gaining a bad reputation, and laughed along with the rest of her family as he described several practical jokes the test pilots had played on one another. With flights scheduled only a few hours each day, they had a great deal of free time on their hands and being bright and imaginative people, used it to good advantage. “If you tell the cadets you interview such amusing stories,” she told him, “they’ll all want to be test pilots. You make it sound like such wonderful fun.”

“What about you?” Jourdan asked. “Does the work appeal to you?”

Blaise shrugged slightly. She loved flying, but testing a ship wasn’t the same as piercing the clouds for pleasure. “Not really. I enjoy flying, but I think I’d prefer designing the prototypes you test to testing them myself.”

“We’d make a good team then,” Jourdan replied as he reached beneath the table to squeeze her hand.

Blaise smiled rather than argue, but once dinner had concluded and she and Jourdan went out into the garden for a walk, she hoped they would be able to talk more honestly. He was too fine a man to be led on, and she did not want him to mistakenly believe her dreams for the future included him. Then again, she and Dez had not been together long enough to have shared dreams. She missed him terribly and could not imagine herself always being as alone as she felt that night.

Solar lamps set flush with the ground lit the path and bathed the floral rainbows with the soft glow of moonlight. Jourdan laced his fingers in Blaise’s and inhaled the sweetly perfumed air. He had spent so many nights on space stations he had nearly forgotten how delightful a garden could be.

“You’ve done it again; the garden gets more beautiful every year. Just like you.”

Amused by his compliment, Blaise squeezed his arm. He had a muscular build, but touching him failed to bring the same joy she had always found with Dez. Ashamed to be comparing him to a man who had proved himself unworthy of a moment’s thought, she paid him a compliment of her own. “I’d almost forgotten how considerate you are.”

“I haven’t forgotten a thing about you,” Jourdan swore, “but as long as you’re enrolled here at the academy, there’s no way we can be together.”

“Jourdan—”

“Please, let me finish.” Jourdan led Blaise toward a bench and waited until they were seated to continue. Resisting the urge to envelop her in a boisterous hug, he rested his arm along the back of the bench. “I think we had something really special together, something worth nurturing, cherishing, and I was too young to appreciate it when I was here. I can’t tell you how many nights I’ve lain awake thinking of you, wishing we could be together again.”

Blaise dug her nails into her palms to hold back the tears burning her eyes. Jourdan was a wonderful man, so dear and sweet, but she wished with all her heart that Dez were the one pouring out such tender sentiments. She had been hurt too badly by Dez’s hostile rejection to treat Jourdan with anything but the utmost care, so she listened quietly without interrupting him. He didn’t propose marriage, but hinted strongly that he would do so after she had graduated.

When at last he fell silent, she hardly knew where to begin. “I’m touched that you remember the year we spent together so fondly, truly I am,” she confided,

“but I can’t make any promises, and I don’t want you to hope—”

“I will anyway!”

“Please.” Blaise saw him incline his head, but made no effort to escape his kiss. His marvelous affection was comforting, and needing it desperately, she relaxed in his arms. Knowing his love was sincere, she drank it in until they were both dizzy, and he pulled away.

“They gave me a nice apartment in the guest quarters,” Jourdan whispered enticingly. “Come back there with me.”

Sorely tempted, Blaise rested her head on his shoulder. “It would be so easy to get lost in your loving,” she replied softly.

“Was that a yes or a no?”

“I can’t, Jourdan. It wouldn’t be right.”

Jourdan sighed unhappily. “I can’t say that I blame you; after all, I haven’t kept in touch the way I should have. I shouldn’t have expected to arrive here unannounced, and take you to bed all in the same day. I’m sorry. It was rude of me to rush you like that. I’ll only be here a couple of weeks, but I’ll try and be more patient.”

“Oh Jourdan, it isn’t you.” Blaise left the bench rather than take any additional solace in his arms. She took only a few steps away and then turned back to face him. “I just don’t feel up to this now. You’re attractive, appealing, any woman would want you, but, well, I’m just numb. Please forgive me.”

Completely confused, Jourdan got to his feet. “What’s happened? You told me you weren’t seeing anyone, but you’re behaving as though you’d rather be with someone else. Does he know?”

Blaise knew if she said yes to that question, Jourdan would quickly have another, and she did not want to discuss the mess Dez had made of her love life. “There’s no one else,” she lied unconvincingly. “There might have been, but it didn’t work out, and I need some time to pull my feelings together. That’s all. Now, I have classes tomorrow, and I’m sure you’ve got an early start to make, so let’s say good night.”

Certain there was more to Blaise’s melancholy mood than she would admit, Jourdan jammed his hands into his pockets. “You weren’t yourself this afternoon, but I thought you were just surprised to see me. If there’s a man on the planet too stupid to want you, then you’re better off without him. Don’t give him the satisfaction of missing him. I’ll help you stuff some old clothes and we’ll burn him in effigy if you like. Would that help you forget him?”

“Probably not, but I appreciate your offer.” Blaise came back toward him and he again drew her into his arms. She trusted Jourdan’s affection and a part of her truly did want to spend the night with him, but she refused to indulge such a shocking weakness. She brushed his lips with a light kiss, then took his hand and started back to her house.

“I don’t think we can choose whom to love, Jourdan. What I mean is, it’s not a logical choice based on mutual interests or goals, but something far more mystical and profound.”

Jourdan let out a pathetic moan. “You’re breaking my heart, but any man who doesn’t love you is crazy and you don’t need lunatics in your life.”

“I’ll try and think of it that way.”

“No,” Jourdan insisted, “think of it this way.” He leaned down to kiss her, lightly at first, but then more ardently when she didn’t pull away.

Knowing it would take more than Jourdan had to give to erase Dez from her heart, Blaise forced herself to end the kiss long before he was ready. “I’ve got to go in. Will I see you tomorrow?”

“Yes, of course. I’ll call you in the afternoon and we can make plans for tomorrow night.”

“Fine, I want to hear more about your work,” she said. She pressed his hand with a fond squeeze, and left him on the path. He was a good friend, and she was happy to see him again, but it was also a relief to know his stay at the academy wouldn’t be a lengthy one.

She was confident she had made the right choice in rejecting affection she could return only with her body and not her soul, but as she entered her bedroom, tears she’d fought while they were together flooded her eyes. Before she could dry them, Blair peeked in.

“We’ve got to talk,” he said.

“Oh Blair, please. ”I’m not up to talking about anything tonight.“

Blair came on in, leaned back against her door, and crossed his arms over his chest. He was still dressed in the gray slacks and shirt he had worn at dinner, and looked dead serious. “When I first realized you were seeing someone with access to a ship, it didn’t occur to me that it was Sanchez, but now that I know you spent last week with him, I can’t help but wonder if he didn’t escort you around the planet in the Eclipse rather than a Scorpion. From the way you were concentrating on your stuffed pepper rather than the conversation at dinner, it sure looked as though you knew more than you cared to admit. Just between you and me, have you flown in the Eclipse?”

Objecting to Blair’s interrogation, Blaise chose the chair at her desk and sighed in exasperation. “If I answer that question, will you stop pestering me about the Eclipse?”

“Probably not, but go ahead and let’s see what happens.”

Being twins who had always had the same friends and activities, there was very little about each other they did not already know, and Blaise had always felt more comfortable confiding in Blair than in anyone else. Seeing no harm in satisfying his curiosity, she did so. “It started out with him daring me to fly with him, and while I don’t think he dreamed I’d actually do it, I took him up on it.”

“So what’s the ship like?”

“It differs only slightly from the Scorpion. It has the same basic design. Except for the addition of a couple of dials that monitor the modified engines, it has the same instrumentation. Not realizing I was a pilot, Dez let me fly it a couple of times. It handles well. It’s only the design of the engines that’s new. The Eclipse has greater speed and range than the Scorpion, but it’s no great challenge to fly.”

Intrigued, Blair straightened up. “Can you get us in the hangar?”

“I could have, but Dez probably changed the security codes.”

“What if he hasn’t? After all, he’s had as much on his mind as you, maybe more, since he has the additional burden of possible disgrace hanging over him. Let’s go and see. If we can get inside, great. I’ll take a look around. If we can’t, well, then I’ll be back to camping out on the field until Sanchez takes the ship out for another flight.”

“Breaking into the hangar isn’t a good idea, Blair, and you know it.”

“I wouldn’t call it breaking in. That implies malicious intent. I just want to see the Eclipse, not steal its design. Come on, you won’t be able to get to sleep for hours anyway, and you might as well put your time to good use.”

“If we’re caught, it will be obvious where I got the code to the hangar, and Dez doesn’t need any more trouble than he’s already got.”

“After what he did to you, why are you defending him? It’s plain he doesn’t give a damn about anything but himself, so let’s go look at the Eclipse. If we get caught, what the hell, Sanchez will get the blame he deserves. Come on, let’s go.”

Blaise hesitated, but Blair was right. Dez had recklessly disregarded the need for tight security and accessed the hangar code on more than one occasion while she had been standing right beside him. Perhaps she should not have watched, but because she had, she reluctantly gave in. “All right, but first let’s change our clothes. If we’re wearing our flight suits, we won’t attract any notice. Even if we do, we can say we’re out making astronomical observations for navigation.”

Blair laughed at her reasoning. “I knew you’d go along with this. Meet you out back in five minutes.”

Blair was already waiting for Blaise when she left the house. They walked along the same path they followed each morning to reach their classes. That late at night, the other cadets were all in their dormitories studying or asleep and they were able to make their way to the field unobserved. The academy had a security force that made routine patrols, but their vehicles were all parked by the tower.

“Come on,” Blair urged. “The security force is on a break and we’ll be gone before they start their next patrol.”

Blaise followed Blair through the shadows, darting from one hangar to the next until they reached the third building where the Eclipse was housed. Think-ing a man as determined to safeguard his career as Dez would surely have changed the entrance code, Blaise tapped the numbers in the sequence she recalled: two, seven, eight, five. She was amazed when the side door slid open and the lights inside the hangar came on. Blair took her hand to pull her through and quickly shut the door before their entrance could be noted.

“God, it’s beautiful!” he exclaimed. He sprinted toward the triangular ship, then walked around it twice while Blaise remained near the door. “Do you know the code for the hatch?” he called.

“Hush!” Blaise did indeed know the necessary code to board the ship, but did not want to push their luck. “I can’t believe he didn’t change the hangar code, but surely he’s changed the one for the hatch.”

“Try it and see,” Blair urged. He watched closely and repeated the sequence aloud, “Five, eight, seven, two. He just reversed the hangar code? He doesn’t have much imagination, does he?”

The hatch opened on the last number, and the steps unfolded to permit easy access, but Blaise drew back. “I think we better go, Blair.”

“Not until I’ve seen the instrument panel. Come on, keep me company.”

Blaise knew they would probably be expelled from the academy if they were caught, but having lost Dez, no further penalty held much threat. She needed no more coaxing to follow Blair into the cockpit. “You see, they haven’t rearranged everything. It’s the standard display.”

Blair picked up Dez’s helmet and read the call sign emblazoned on the front. “Phoenix? Prophetic choice, wasn’t it? Do you suppose he can pull himself out of the ashes here?”

“He’s trying awfully hard.”

Blair uttered appreciative murmurs as he ran his fingertips over the dials and switches. “We should have brought Jourdan along with us.”

“He’d know better than to sneak in here, Blair, and you know it. Come on, let’s go.”

Blair caught her arm. “Wait a minute. Tell me how he got the ship launched.”

Blaise drummed her fingertips on her armrests. “It’s exactly the same as the Scorpion. He’d access the navigational computer, it would open the main hangar doors, and then he’d notify the tower, and we’d just sail right out and up over the academy. Because the shape is similar to the Scorpion, I doubt we attracted much notice.”

Blair remained a moment longer, drinking in the feel of the exotic prototype and indulging in a flight of imagination. His amber eyes glowed with a teasing light. “Do you suppose we could contact the tower now, using Dez’s call sign, and be cleared to take the Eclipse out on a midnight cruise?”

“If you mean are we sharp enough as pilots to fly the Eclipse, then yes, we could do it. If you mean can we get away with such an audacious stunt, the answer is no. The tower would log the flight and Dez would know he hadn’t made it. It would take him all of three seconds to come up with my name and come after me, and having already had a blistering sample of what he’s like when he’s angry, I don’t want to risk a repeat of that scene.”

Blair broke into an evil grin. “He can’t accuse you of a damn thing, Blaise, without revealing how you got the codes to enter the hangar and Eclipse. We could take this ship up every night and he couldn’t utter more than a low growl.”

This wasn’t the first time Blair had come up with a stunt Blaise wouldn’t condone and she punched his shoulder to make her point. “Rotten as Desmond Sanchez obviously is, he doesn’t deserve to be tortured like that, so forget it right now. Come on, let’s get out of here, and first thing in the morning I’m going to tell Dez to change the codes.”

“No, don’t say anything to him. I might want to come back and take another look at the Eclipse.” Blair left Dez’s helmet in the precise spot he’d found it, then hurried after his sister. He watched her slam the hatch, and then continued arguing as they crossed the hangar to the side door.

“This is our secret, Blaise, and it’s too good to louse up by warning Sanchez to change the codes. That was his mistake, and we have every right to take advantage of it after the way he treated you. You’re worth far more than the Eclipse, but he’s too damn stupid to realize it. Don’t help the bastard cover his mistakes. Make him pay for them.”

Blaise pressed the button to open the side door and instantly the illumination in the hangar was extinguished. Only the outside light above the door lit them now. “I’m not going to argue with you about this!” she hissed. “The codes will be changed tomorrow, because it’s just too dangerous for us to come back.”

“Yes, mama,” Blair sneered, but the words were barely out of his mouth before they heard the sound of one of the security vehicles approaching and had to dash for the shadows. Blair pulled Blaise down beside him, and hoped their green flight suits were dark enough to keep them hidden. When the guard stopped and left his vehicle to check the door of the hangar they had just left, the twins held each other tight. After banging his fist against the door, the guard was evidently satisfied the Eclipse was secure, and continued on his rounds.

Blaise stood first, but her knees felt weak and her legs were trembling. “That was much too close, Blair.”

“I agree.” He took her hand. Running like the playful children they had once been, they darted along the shadowed route they had taken to the locked hangar, and didn’t slow their pace until they were back on the well-lit path of the academy grounds.

“Thanks, Blaise,” Blair then offered. “I owe you one.”

“Daddy warned me only this evening to beware of people looking for favors, so don’t ask for any more.”

“No, this was enough. Thanks.”

They said good night as they snuck in the back door, and Blaise went to her room and prepared for bed.

Blaise didn’t make idle threats, so Blair knew she would definitely follow through on her promise to warn Major Sanchez to change the access codes. That meant if he were ever to have a chance to fly the Eclipse, it would have to be tonight. He left the house and made his way back to the hangar housing the Eclipse.

He pulled on Dez’s helmet, activated the ship’s navigational computer, opened the hangar’s wide double doors, and then, using his best impersonation of Desmond Sanchez, requested permission to take the Eclipse out for a test flight. When it was granted, he fired the engines. Using a gentle touch, Blair coaxed the experimental ship out into the night for what he hoped would be a magnificent adventure. His only concern was that it might be years before he could tell anyone what he’d done.

The Eclipse was so fast and maneuverable, he swiftly went far beyond the limit he had set for himself. Reluctantly, he changed his course to return to base, but rather than respond, the ship continued to gain altitude. Forcing himself to remain calm, he spoke to the computer.

“Reset our course to return to the academy field. Acknowledge.”

The computer failed to respond, and despite Blair’s fierce yank on the controls, the Eclipse continued to gain speed and altitude. His blood turning to ice, Blair began to shake. He knew he hadn’t made any mistakes, but the ship was running away with him just the way Desmond Sanchez had sworn it had done with him.

The communications frequency was still set for the academy tower, and Blair started to scream, “Mayday! Mayday!” But there was no response, and the Eclipse continued to streak across the sky toward a destination too hideous to imagine.

upter

A terrifying nightmare yanked Blaise awake just seconds before the chime sounded on her father’s communications panel down the hall. She sat up in bed, swept her hair out of her eyes, and glanced at the clock on her desk. She had been in bed only half an hour, but the awful dream had been so frightening, she doubted she would be able to get back to sleep before dawn.

She couldn’t remember a bit of it, but it had been so horrible she was still shaking as she left her bed and went into the bathroom to get a drink of water. She leaned back against the counter and sipped the water slowly in an attempt to calm her frazzled nerves. She never had nightmares, or at least she hadn’t before now. She had no idea how to subdue a scare that had no real cause.

She heard her father questioning someone, his voice sharply insistent, and wondered what sort of an emergency could have occurred this late at night. Curious, she stepped out into the hall and waited until he had signed off. Before she could ask what had happened, the sirens on the field began to wail, their shriek magnifying her fright tenfold.

Chapter Seven

“What’s happened?” she called to her father. “Has there been a crash?”

“Sanchez took the Eclipse out and disappeared right off the tower’s screens. Looks like he’s managed to kill himself this time, but why he chose the middle of the night to do it I’ll never know.”

Edric returned to his bedroom and Blaise could hear him repeating the reason for the alarm to her mother, but she couldn’t believe it could possibly be true. Dez couldn’t be dead, he just couldn’t be. She slumped back against the wall and fought to think above the siren’s chilling scream, but all she could do was feel the gut-wrenching terror that had shattered her rest.

“Blair?” Mystified that her brother could possibly sleep through such noise, Blaise rapped on his door. It wasn’t locked, and when he didn’t appear, she looked in and switched on the light. His bed hadn’t been slept in, and with a certainty that clutched her heart with icy tongs she knew it wasn’t Dez who was lost, but her brother.

“Oh God, no!” She ran back into her room, tore off her sleepshirt, and pulled on the flight suit she had worn earlier. She yanked on her boots, and leaving her hair uncombed, ran from the house. She left the winding path through the gardens and leapt over the floral rainbows in a wild dash for the instructors’ quarters. The lights were on in Dez’s apartment, and she screamed his name as she hit his door with both fists.

As soon as Dez opened the door, Blaise fell into his arms. He pulled her inside quickly, before they could be observed. Only then did he realize she was hysterical. He knew he ought to slap her, but he couldn’t bring himself to strike her and instead crushed her against his bare chest. He stroked her tangled curls and hoped she could hear him above the blasted sirens that had awakened everyone on the base.

Finding Dez at home had confirmed Blaise’s fears, and she clung to him with a frantic passion. “It’s Blair,” she sobbed. “They think it’s you, but dear God, it’s Blair.”

Catching only her brother’s name, Dez guided her into the kitchen and splashed cool water on her face. It mingled with her tears, and while he could not even imagine how she had gotten in such an awful state, he continued to hold her and offered what comfort he could. “Try and tell me what’s happened, Blaise. I won’t know what to do unless you tell me what’s wrong.”

Blaise gulped and swallowed hard, but she couldn’t stop crying. “Blair took the Eclipse,” she finally mumbled.

This time Dez had heard her perfectly. “Is that what all the racket is about, Blair has the Eclipse?” He didn’t have to ask how Blair could have done it; he knew. All trace of sympathy slipping away, he wrapped his hands tightly around Blaise’s shoulders and shook her. “Damn you! You gave him the codes, didn’t you?”

Blaise went limp and would have slumped to the floor had Dez not caught her. He hadn’t said that she had killed her brother, but she felt as though she had. “I just showed him the ship. I didn’t dream he would try and fly it.”

“Dear God,” Dez moaned. He led her back into the living room and pushed her down into the one chair Aurora had provided him. “You just stay put. I’ll get dressed and go to the tower.”

He turned off the lights and Blaise sat sobbing in the dark, knowing Blair was dead, and not knowing how she would ever tell her parents it was her fault.

When Dez reappeared, she felt worse than when she had arrived, but she struggled to her feet. “I’m going with you.”

“No, stay here. You’ll only be in my way.”

“My brother’s dead and you’re afraid I’ll be in your way?” Blaise shouted right back at him. “I hate you!” She beat him out the door and, running with a speed born of desperation, raced out to the tower. Her father was already there, along with the flight personnel charged with the responsibility of handling emergencies on the field. Startled from their beds by the sirens, they all looked disheveled and distraught.

When Dez followed her into the tower, the incredulous gasps were so loud they could be heard even above the sirens. The controller on duty reached over to shut off the strident horns, but now that they could converse easily, no one spoke. Everyone stared wide-eyed at Dez, regarding him with such shocked expressions it would have been comical had the situation not been tragic.

Dez pushed his way up to the controller. “Tell me what happened,” he urged calmly.

The young man gave a helpless shrug. “It must have been forty-five, fifty minutes ago by now. I received a request for permission to launch, and I’d swear it was you. It sure sounded like you, and whoever it was used your call sign, Phoenix, and I never doubted him.”

Dez was still the only one in the tower who was in control of himself, if not the situation. “I understand,” he assured the quaking controller. “Then what happened?”

“I was tracking him like we always do your flights, sir, but he just disappeared. I got part of a distress call, and then he just vanished.” Sweat was pouring from the controller’s face and he wiped his brow on his shirtsleeve.

Dez studied the controller’s bank of screens, but there was no activity on any of them. “What other traffic did you have in the area at the time?”

“None, sir, but that doesn’t mean there weren’t ships above or below our range.”

Dez looked out over the field. The emergency vehicles were parked at the edge of the runway, their lights flashing in rapid sequence, but Dez knew they wouldn’t be needed. Above them, the night was as dark as his future and he knew it wasn’t only Blair who had been lost that night, but everything he had hoped to be as well.

He turned to face Edric Quinn. Blaise was standing beside her father, her face a mask of such tortured anguish, he couldn’t bear to see it, and yet he spoke to her, rather than her father. “I’ll take full responsibility for the loss of the Eclipse,” he announced, but only Blaise knew he was lying about the reason why. “I left the codes for the hangar and hatch on my desk where any of the cadets might have seen them. Obviously one did. Blaise fears it was her brother.”

Edric had not felt the slightest twinge of regret when he had thought it was Dez who was lost, but he was devastated by the possibility Blair might be the one who was missing. He grabbed Blaise’s arm and jerked her forward. “Where is Blair?” he screamed. “Tell me this instant!”

“I don’t know,” Blaise sobbed. She glanced toward Dez, silently pleading with him for a particle of hope that Blair was still alive.

“I couldn’t prove someone was after the Eclipse,” Dez responded, “but if they succeeded in getting it tonight, they would have wanted it intact, and that means wherever Blair is, he’s alive.”

A murmur of disbelief floated through the crowded tower, but Edric alone shouted a denial. “You’ve lost all touch with reality, Sanchez. I’m relieving you of your duties as an instructor. I want you off this base immediately. Report to Fleet Command, and if I have any say in the matter, you’ll be charged with murder!”

Edric grabbed Blaise’s hand and dragged her along behind him as he left the tower. She looked back at Dez, her gaze filled with pain and confusion, but he dared not follow. He studied the faces of those remaining and saw the very same revulsion Edric had expressed. Not a one of them believed him, and despite the fact the controller’s observations offered no support for his theory, he refused to give in.

“Replay the tape,” he ordered. “I want to see if there was an explosion.”

“Yes, sir.” The controller keyed the tape, and everyone moved forward to get a better look at the Eclipse’s last flight. They stared at the screen, following the blinking code that signaled the ship’s position, but just as the controller had reported, the ship vanished in an instant.

“Play it again,” Dez asked. Though he studied the screen intently, he saw no indication of an explosion. Experts would probably call the tape inconclusive, but had the Eclipse blown apart, Dez was positive a brilliant flash would have shown up on the tape, and would have been clearly observable on the ground.

“Did the security patrol report seeing anything?” he asked.

“No, sir,” the controller replied. “I’m the one who called the commandant and sounded the alarm.”

Dez weighed his options. The Eclipse carried several hours’ worth of fuel, and there was always the chance, no matter how remote, that Blair had encountered some bizarre cosmic event, a meteor shower, or the icy tail of an uncharted comet, which had knocked out his communications capability. If so, then he might survive it and return to base. The odds were a million to one against it, but all Dez had was time.

“I want to wait,” he stated to no one in particular, “but no one else has to stay.”

The controller cleared his throat with a nervous cough. “Excuse me, sir, but didn’t the commandant say he wanted you off the base immediately?”

Dez lacked the energy to laugh, so he just shook his head. “Well, I sure as hell can’t walk, now, can I? So it looks as though I’ll have to wait for a ship. I might as well wait here as elsewhere.” He had not been at the base long enough to make friends with any of the emergency personnel gathered around them, and when he sent them a questioning glance, they backed away and left the tower without another word.

Dez pulled up a chair and sat down by the harried controller. “Do I look crazy to you?”

“No, sir, you sure don’t.”

“Good.” Dez didn’t speak again, but as he watched the bank of screens, he saw Blaise’s anguished glance reflected in each one. Just as he had once shared her pleasure, he now felt her excruciating pain.

Edric started off toward home with an angry stride, but before they had reached the gardens, he drew to a halt. “What are we going to tell your mother?”

Her heart in her throat, Blaise didn’t know what to suggest. Her father was a man who prided himself on attention to detail. He was an excellent administrator, but there wasn’t an ounce of poetry in his soul. Blaise saw the panic in his eyes and knew he felt every bit as lost as she did.

“We’ll have to tell her the truth. Blair stole the Eclipse and vanished. If Dez is right, then he’s safe. If he’s wrong—“

Overwrought, Edric failed to note how Blaise had referred to Desmond Sanchez by a familiar term. “I won’t repeat his wild ravings to your mother. It would be too cruel to give her hope where none exists. Still, I don’t think I can bear to tell her Blair’s gone.”

He began to cry then. Never having seen her father weep, Blaise could only sob along with him. She wanted with all her heart to believe Dez, for the hope Blair had been captured by some evil entity was far easier to bear than the horrendous guilt she would feel should he be dead. Despite his outlandish questions, she had not even imagined Blair would really steal the Eclipse. If only she had, she would have had Dez change the codes that very night.

She had awakened from one nightmare only to find herself enveloped in another. Then with shattering certainty she knew it hadn’t been a bad dream at all, but Blair calling to her in the last seconds of his life and she lost all hope that he was still alive. She clung to her father, and slowly urged him along the path. She felt sick clear through, but she was all her parents had left now, and she wouldn’t fail them again.

Awakened by the sirens, Jourdan got dressed and went out to see what all the excitement was about. He joined a group milling around near the instructors’ quarters, but when he discovered they knew nothing at all about the cause of the commotion, he continued toward the field. It was a group of cadets who told him Major Sanchez was lost, but not wanting to believe that could possibly be true, he went on to the tower. As he reached it, one of the security men shared the latest rumor: Blair Quinn was dead.

“But he can’t be!” Jourdan argued. “I saw him earlier tonight.”

“Well, I doubt you’ll be seeing him again, sir.”

Unable to accept that prediction as the truth, Jourdan hurriedly climbed the tower’s steps and went inside. He was taken aback to find Desmond Sanchez seated beside the controller on duty, and seeing they were staring at blank screens he approached them cautiously. While they weren’t friends, until Dez had been reassigned to the academy he and Jourdan had belonged to the same unit, and were at least acquainted.

“Major?” Jourdan whispered.

Dez turned, and after a brief moment of confusion, recognized Jourdan. “Lieutenant Curry, isn’t it? If you’ve come for the Eclipse, you’re too late. It’s gone.”

Jourdan grabbed another chair and drew it up alongside Dez. He had to wait a long while, but eventually Dez began to describe what he believed had happened to the Eclipse. Jourdan could tell by the controller’s furtive glances that he didn’t believe a word the major said, and try as he might, Jourdan couldn’t either. So he just sat in the tower and waited until all hope for Blair’s return was lost. When Dez got up to leave, Jourdan followed him.

“Blair wanted to be a test pilot,” Jourdan confided. “We were talking about the Eclipse at dinner. I’m here to recruit, and he was interested.”

Dez felt sick to his stomach and thought he would be lucky to get home without having to stop and puke in the flowers. He paid no attention to Jourdan’s ram-blings and left him at the edge of the instructors’ quarters without so much as a wave. He did reach his apartment without embarrassing himself, but barely made it through the door.

He felt worse about losing Blair than the Eclipse, but that it could just as easily have been Blaise who had flown the experimental ship into oblivion tore at his very soul. Their affair had been star-crossed from the beginning, and now Blaise’s brother was lost. He might as well be lost too, for all the hope he had for the future. He collapsed across his bed and, feeling cursed, wondered what he had done to deserve the downward spiral his life had taken.

All he knew for certain was that he loved Blaise, and he had never meant to take her down with him.

Jourdan had never lost a close relative and had no idea how he ought to go about conveying his sympathies to the Quinns. It was staggering to think he had had supper with them only a few hours earlier, and now one of them was gone. Deciding his presence was more important than anything he could say, he made his way to their home.

The magnificent marble and glass house was as brightly lit as it was during one of the commandant’s parties, but the eerie silence dispelled any notion of mirth. The front doors of the residence were standing open, and while he knocked lightly, no one came to greet him. Thinking he could at least answer the door should anyone else arrive, he let himself in. The sound of running water lured him toward the kitchen, where Blaise was rinsing out the sink.

Not wanting to frighten her, Jourdan spoke softly. “I had to come. What can I do to help?”

Blaise turned toward him, but her gaze was empty, as though she didn’t recognize him. “Thank you.” She reached into a bin beneath the counter and withdrew several potatoes. “Can you peel these for me, please? I’m making soup.”

Her brother was dead and she was making soup? Jourdan thought her request damn odd, but approached the counter nonetheless. He had never peeled any vegetables, but doubted there was a trick to it. Grabbing a knife from the magnetized rack on the wall, he tried to form a long spiral, the way he peeled apples, but the potato was too knobby and it didn’t work.

“I remember your potato soup,” he told her. “It’s awfully good.”

“Yes, it’s Blair’s favorite.”

Jourdan’s heart lurched. It was the middle of the night and they were making soup for a dead man. “I like it, too.” He was making a mess of the potato, but knew it wouldn’t matter. Blaise had moved to the cooking center, where she was browning onions in a glass kettle. The kitchen filled with a delicious aroma. His mother had always purchased their family’s meals already prepared, but Jasmine Quinn loved to cook and had involved her twins in her favorite hobby. Now the Quinns no longer had a set of twins.

Deeply distressed, Jourdan called over his shoulder, “Blaise, why are we doing this?”

Blaise stirred the onions with choppy strokes, her usually graceful motions now awkward. “I know it’s stupid, but if I don’t do something, I’ll start screaming and I might never stop. Now please don’t ask me any more difficult questions. I can’t think now.”

Jourdan left the mangled potato on the counter, dried his hands on a towel, and closed the short distance between them. He wrapped his arms around her waist. “It’s not healthy to hold everything in so tightly. Go ahead and scream. I’ll hold you.”

Blaise closed her eyes, but unable to accept the tender sympathy; she knew she didn’t deserve, she couldn’t relax against him. “Let’s just make the soup.”

Disappointed, Jourdan let his arms drop to his sides. “I should never have mentioned the Eclipse. Maybe if I hadn’t been so eager to fly it—”

Blaise shook the spoon at him. “No! You mustn’t even think that. You had absolutely nothing to do with what’s happened to Blair.”

The onions were nicely browned, but when she turned back to the kettle, Blaise couldn’t recall what to do next. “Do you know how to make this soup? I’ve forgotten.”

Jourdan hadn’t cooked anything in the years he had been away, but again tried to be helpful. “Let’s see, we made it together once, and it seems to me we cooked the potatoes, then added them to the onions. What did we add to make it liquid? Was it milk?”

Blaise nodded. “Of course. How could I have forgotten the potatoes? Do you have them peeled?”

Frightened Blaise wasn’t truly rational, Jourdan went back to the counter. “Give me another minute.” He continued to scrape away the peel in a haphazard fashion. He had come to offer what comfort he could but Blaise was intent on shutting him out so completely he knew he might as well not have bothered. “Where are your folks?” he asked.

“They’re sitting on the floor of their bedroom, crying. They’ve always been close, and they need only each other.”

Jourdan’s father had once told him that a couple was either a team or they were not. Anyone could survive the good times together, but when tragedy struck, an ill-suited couple flew apart faster than a poorly made toy. He had come hoping Blaise would need him, but clearly she did not. She was all he wanted in a woman, but he had missed his first chance to make her his own, and that night he feared he might never have another.

Unable to sleep, Dez packed what little he had brought with him into the black cases he had never removed from the living room. Still feeling sick clear through, he wasn’t up to making travel arrangements and stretched out across his bed to wait for morning. He needed to speak with Nona Chane to thank her for her help, and arrange to shift his cadets to the other flight instructors. She must have heard what had happened. Perhaps she had already taken care of that chore.

He stared up at the ceiling and tried to imagine the interrogation he would have to endure at Fleet Command. He would repeat the same story he had given Edric Quinn: he had been careless about the security codes, and Blair was missing as a result. He wouldn’t even mention Blaise, let alone blame her for what had happened. To admit he had dated her would simply damn him to a lower rung of Aurora’s hell, and possibly get her expelled for passing along the codes. No, he would not even consider sacrificing her in a misguided attempt to save himself.

He had been so enamored of her, he hadn’t made any effort to keep the codes a secret, and so he rightly deserved whatever blame anyone wished to heap on him for Blair’s disappearance. He stubbornly refused to believe Blair was dead, and he would maintain that belief. Aurora was only one of the corporations exploring space. Because it was the largest, it had to constantly fight off fierce competition. Any of the other intergalactic firms might have wanted the Eclipse. The question was: Which one had it?

The Vanguard Corporation was second to Aurora in size but its frenzied approach to exploration had resulted in a plethora of marginally successful colonies and it wasn’t highly regarded. Biolink had a fine reputation, but such conservative management, it concentrated on its current holdings and seldom expanded into new territory. Tierradyne was run by engineers whose primary aim was establishing profitable mining colonies rather than expanding the universe for humanity’s benefit. Then there was the Janus Corporation, which was a small, elite firm run by scientists whose goal was purely scientific research.

Dez had applied to Aurora’s academy because he had wanted to fly for not merely the largest corporation but the finest. Vanguard had recruited him more aggressively, and Biolink more elegantly, but he had never wanted to fly for anyone but Aurora. If they fired him for losing the Eclipse, it was unlikely Biolink would offer him a job, or the Janus Corporation either, but both Vanguard and Tierradyne would still want him.

“That’s where the Eclipse has to be, then,” he murmured aloud. Vanguard had an insatiable lust for territory, and Tierradyne for mineral wealth. Tierradyne was also rife with engineers who could conceivably design a device to disable the competition’s prototypes, thereby enabling them to steal the most innovative designs and stay ahead. It was all purely conjecture, of course, but any explanation for the disappearance of the Eclipse was preferable to the helpless sense of loss he felt now.

Unfortunately, he doubted he would be believed no matter how logically he presented his case. Still, if another corporation had his ship, then there had to be a way to prove it. He had had no chance to explore possibilities between the time of his near crash and his posting to the academy, but he would make the time now.

He would begin his investigations with the question of opportunity, and because Fleet Command had records of all intergalactic flights, his dread of returning there decreased significantly. What he needed was evidence to back up his theory, and the minute he reached Fleet Command he would start gathering it.

Feeling better immediately, he went into the kitchen to brew himself some coffee. As he sipped it, he watched the sky lighten to a smokey rose and was grateful that what was easily one of the worst nights of his life was over. It would never be over for Blaise, though, he knew, and he did not want to leave the academy without seeing her. Even if he couldn’t promise to find Blair, he could swear that he would try.

A light knock at his door broke his concentration. His first thought was that it was Blaise, and he put his cup down so quickly the hot coffee sloshed over on his hand. He wiped it on his pants as he hurried to the door.

With his hair uncombed and a slight growth of beard, Dez looked as dangerous as Rivera believed him to be, but she strove to look concerned rather than desperately eager to see him. “I don’t think anyone could get back to sleep after last night’s tragedy. I was out for a walk and saw your light. I heard Colonel Quinn is forcing you to leave and I wanted you to know how sorry I am. It’s wrong of him to make you take the blame for Blair’s recklessness.”

Rivera was dressed in a pair of red shorts and a knit top, but Dez thought she had probably been lurking in the bushes rather than out for exercise. He supposed he ought to invite her in for coffee, but he didn’t want her company and leaned back against the door-jamb to prevent her from entering on her own. “No, you’re wrong. Blair’s disappearance is my fault, and Quinn was right to ask me to leave.”

The scent of fresh coffee made Rivera long for a cup, and she was badly disappointed when Dez didn’t invite her in for some. “From what I heard, he didn’t just ask.”

“I was trying to be civil. Now you’ll have to excuse me; I need to pack.”

Rivera refused to budge. “I still say it’s unfair to make you leave. I’m thinking of starting a petition. If Quinn knew you had the support of the other instructors, maybe he wouldn’t be so quick to condemn you.”

Deciding he could not stand the woman, Dez straightened up impatiently. “He’s lost his son, Rivera. No amount of petitions will make up for that. It was nice knowing you. Goodbye.”

Dez hit the button to close his door before Rivera could draw the breath to argue. Frustrated beyond belief, she tramped off down the walk. It was much too early to dress for class, and in all probability classes would be canceled for the day anyway. She paused at the corner and then turned toward Nona Chane’s apartment. Nona would invite her in for breakfast, and when she told her friend how regretfully Dez had bid her goodbye, she knew she would be believed. It was a damn shame it wouldn’t be true.

There was a shuttle flight arriving at noon, and Dez planned to be on board when it departed at one, but before he left, he was intent on seeing Blaise. He knew he would have to get by Edric Quinn to do it, so he went to their home hoping the commandant would be with his wife, and never know he had been there. He was surprised but relieved when Jourdan Curry opened the door.

“I’d like to see Blaise—Ms. Quinn,” he said, quickly correcting himself. “She was one of my cadets, and I need to speak with her.”

“She was up all night and just went to bed, Major. Perhaps later.”

Ready to leave, Dez was dressed in his uniform. “I won’t be around later; it’s imperative that I speak with her now. Please tell her I’m here.”

Jourdan hated to explain that Blaise wasn’t herself, but he was even more reluctant to refuse Desmond Sanchez’s request. “I’ll go see if she’s still awake.”

Rather than inviting Dez to come in, Jourdan left the door open as he turned away. When Edric Quinn passed through the hall a moment later, he caught a glimpse of Dez and, with a harsh cry, started for him. “Haven’t you done enough to my family without coming here to torment us? Go on, get out of here, and make certain you’re on the noon shuttle.”

“I intend to be, sir, but I wanted to tell your daughter goodbye.”

Edric would have hit Dez in the mouth, but Jourdan returned to the foyer in time to catch his arm and drag him back. “I think you better go,” Jourdan shouted over the commandant’s shoulder.

Dez hesitated, hoping Blaise was with the lieutenant, but she had apparently remained in her room. He didn’t want a fight with Edric, so didn’t even consider forcing his way inside. Besides, no amount of wild theories would ease Blaise’s grief. He turned from the house.

He hadn’t lasted at the academy even two weeks, but the time he had spent with Blaise would always be among his most vivid memories. “Tell her how sorry I am!” he called over his shoulder as Edric slammed the door, but he doubted his message would be relayed. He started through the rainbow garden, and stopped where he had first seen Blaise at work down on her hands and knees.

The flowers were still as lovely, and he bent down to pluck a small red blossom. That, and a broken heart, would be all he’d take with him, but as he stood gazing out over the colorful display, he made a promise to himself that he wished he could have made to Blaise. He was going to find the Eclipse, and Blair, or die trying.

Once alone, the fragile calm Blaise had shown earlier dissolved in a torrent of tears and she was sobbing too hard to hear Dez arrive. She had spent twenty-one years with Blair, her whole life. They had been so close, a large part of her had died with him. As she wept over this senseless tragedy, she knew the pain of his loss would never fade.

Not wanting to ever forget the brother who had been so dear she sorted through her fondest memories. From the time they were small, he had been a champion who had protected her from harm whether it had been from jealous classmates or infatuated boys. Through laughter and tears they had complemented each other so perfectly, she could not even imagine a future without him. Who would celebrate with her now when things went well, or raise her spirits when the inevitable disappointments came?

To leave the academy seemed her only choice at first. But then, as surely as if he had still been by her side, she knew Blair would not want her to abandon their goal of joining the Aurora Corporation as commissioned officers. Although, now she would have to fulfill his promise as well as her own. As she cried herself to sleep, her dreams merged with Blair’s, and when she awoke, his choices had become her own. She would become the test pilot he might have been, and she would make him proud.

Chapter Eight

Neither Edric nor Jourdan told Blaise that Dez had come to see her. Edric failed to report the visit because he blamed Dez for Blair’s death and despised him for it. Jourdan did not mention it because he feared any reference to the major would threaten Blaise’s tenuous grasp on reality. Both men wanted only what was best for Blaise, and never dreamed how their silence would compound her pain.

There were one thousand cadets enrolled at the academy, and those who couldn’t find seats in the chapel for Blair’s memorial service spread out over the front lawn. The last time the academy had lost a cadet, it had been in an accident over the summer vacation. But no one was ever prepared for the death of someone so young. Rather than a solemn event, however, Edric and Jasmine had requested a celebration of their son’s life, and the service was uplifting rather than sad.

Blaise sat between her mother and Jourdan, and while she appreciated the poignant anecdotes Blair’s friends shared, she lacked the strength to relate any of her own. When the service closed with the singing of the academy alma mater, she followed her parents in leading the mourners from the church. As she walked down the aisle, she searched the pews for Dez.

He had lied about her involvement in the incident to protect her, and whatever his reason, she wanted to thank him before he left. She knew her father had ordered him off the base, but she could not believe he would have left without telling her goodbye. The flight instructors were seated together in the rear of the chapel, but Dez wasn’t among them. Thinking he may have felt unwelcome, she looked for him outside, but was again disappointed. She nodded and managed a faint smile for those who approached her to pay their respects, but that the only man she wished to see wasn’t there left her feeling lonely and afraid.

Jourdan pressed her hand and she followed him down the walk. Her father had been commandant of the academy for six years, and they knew everyone on the base. Friends would come by their home all afternoon to pay condolence calls and she would thank them for their kindness, but doubted she would hear a word they said. Maybe no one who had lost a loved one ever did.

She glanced back toward the chapel where people had gathered in small groups to discuss the tragedy that had touched them all, but there was still no sign of Desmond Sanchez. Was he staying away out of respect for her family’s feelings? she wondered, or because he blamed her for the latest crisis in his career? That she did not know, made her doubt she had ever really known him.

Sensing her distress, Jourdan bent down to whisper, “Are you looking for someone? I’ll be happy to go find them if you are.”

Blaise’s reason for wanting to see Dez was too private to share and she just shook her head and continued on her way home. Her life had become an anguished blur the night Blair had died, and had Jourdan not led the way, she might have wandered the academy grounds for hours. Since the tragedy, he had seldom left her side. She was grateful for his devoted attention.

“You’ve been so wonderful to me and my parents,” she told him. “I won’t forget it.”

“I love you, Blaise. I don’t need to be thanked for being with you when it’s where I want to be.”

“No, you’re very wrong. Love ought never to be taken for granted. I know Blair loved me, and I loved him dearly, but I can’t recall the last time I spoke the words. Now I wish I’d said them more often.”

Blair’s death had affected Jourdan as well, and his throat filled with a painful knot forcing him to cough to clear it before he replied. “You were a magnificent pair, Blaise, and no one will ever forget him. I’m going to request an extension of my assignment here. I don’t feel like encouraging anyone to become a test pilot now, and I doubt any of the cadets would respond even if I did.”

“Death has a way of forcing us to reassess priorities, doesn’t it? I’ve certainly changed mine,” Blaise confided. “I’ve decided to join your branch. Will you recommend me?”

Jourdan pulled her to a halt. “It’s far too dangerous, Blaise, and after the way your parents lost their son, they’d never allow you to become a test pilot.”

Jourdan was such a considerate young man, and Blaise appreciated his concern for her parents’ feelings, but her choice was already made. “I don’t need my parents’ permission for any assignment I might wish to seek. I intend to graduate first in my class, and that means I’ll get my choice of assignment. If I want to test Aurora’s prototypes, then that’s exactly what I’ll do.”

Just moments before, Blaise had seemed lost in a haze of despair, but there was no mistaking her determination now. Her voice was steady, her gaze direct, her manner the thoroughly confident one Jourdan had come to expect. If following Blair’s path rather than her own helped her deal with her grief, then he was not going to argue with her when he was afraid of what might happen to her if she could not accept her brother’s loss.

“I’ll be happy to write a favorable recommendation if that’s what you really want,” he replied. “You’ll need your flight instructor’s enthusiastic praise as well, and it’s probably a good thing Sanchez is gone, as his recommendation wouldn’t carry any weight at all. I’m sure whoever replaces him will consider you a fine pilot because you are.”

Blaise failed to hear anything beyond Jourdan’s statement that Dez was gone. She didn’t understand how he could have left without offering a word of regret for what they had lost and the tragedy she had suffered. She had thought him selfish, obsessed with his career to the exclusion of the people who should have mattered, but for him to leave without making even the smallest sympathetic gesture convinced her he had no heart at all.

Who had she loved? she asked herself silently. She had been drawn to Desmond Sanchez from the instant they had met. She had been touched by his plight, and rejoiced when the flights they had taken in the Eclipse had restored his confidence. For one glorious week, they had been the perfect pair, in love with flight and each other. Then Dez had discovered how great a threat she posed to his security, and he had jetisoned her faster than he would have garbage in space.

What had she ever seen in such a tragically flawed human being? she agonized. Ashamed she had ever thought Dez worth loving, she looked up at Jourdan. “You’re an absolute treasure,” she offered with touching sincerity. “I wish I could love you, but I feel as though my heart’s been turned inside out, and I may never be able to love anyone ever again.”

Unable to bear such a sad prediction, Jourdan pulled her into his arms and hugged her tight. As long as she believed so strongly in him, he would try not to become discouraged. He had been shocked by her sudden interest in becoming a test pilot, but because it would place them in the same branch, he would do all he could to see she got her wish. She was young, and he would just have to be patient; though waiting for her would be the most difficult thing he had ever done.

Blaise and her family survived that day, and the next, but when classes resumed on Monday, none of them felt well. Jasmine sat home and sorted through photographs of her beloved twins. Edric went to his office and stared out the window at the field where the constant launch and landings of cadets and their flight instructors tore at his soul. Blaise went by Dez’s apartment, found it vacant, then went to Nona Chane’s office, where she waited more than a hour for the instructor to appear.

“Am I still grounded?” Blaise asked when Nona finally arrived.

Nona winced. “No, I think you’ve learned the importance of following the academy’s rules. You may continue with your solo flights tomorrow morning, unless, of course, you need more time.”

“More time for what?”

Nona sorted through the folders on her desk and found Dez’s class list. He hadn’t flown with all of his cadets before he had been relieved of his duties, but he had rated those he had. Beside Blaise’s name, he had written that she was the finest pilot he had ever seen. Surprised and touched, Nona set the folder aside.

“Emotional scars often take much longer to heal than physical trauma,” Nona replied. “If you’d rather not fly for a month or two, then I’ll request a waiver so you’ll be excused.”

“I’m not afraid,” Blaise assured her. “If there’s a Scorpion available now, I’ll take it.”

Blaise’s amber eyes had once glowed with a fiery sparkle, but that day Nona saw none of the zest for life the beautiful young woman had once possessed in such abundance. Her looks were every bit as striking, but there was a hardness about her now that worried Nona. “You needn’t prove your courage to me, or anyone else at the academy, Blaise. Don’t push yourself to fly before you’re ready.”

“I’m more at home in the sky than on the ground,” Blaise argued.

“That may very well be true, but—”

Blaise came toward the instructor. She was slightly taller, and as she glanced down at Nona, her expression grew even more resolute. “I’ve decided to become a test pilot, so the more hours I log the better. Now is there a Scorpion available, or not?”

Blaise’s manner had changed so completely, Nona felt she no longer knew her. She was an only child and could not even imagine losing a twin, but obviously it had affected Blaise deeply. “I must say I’m surprised when your math and engineering skills are so strong, but I’ll do all I can to help you. I’ll need the rest of the morning to reassign Major Sanchez’s cadets, so you may take my ship. Keep to the fifty minute limit, though.”

“Thank you, I will.” Nona hadn’t remembered to assign her a specific destination, but Blaise already had one in mind. After a smooth launch, she banked the Scorpion over the Sapphire Mountains and then sped toward the coast. There wouldn’t be time to land on La Ultima, but as she flew over the only bit of paradise she thought she would ever find, she remembered the sunlit afternoons spent in a handsome man’s arms. Unable to see through her tears, she relied on her navigational computer to take her home.

Aurora’s Fleet Command was located on a space station several days’ journey from the academy. A magnificent rotating wheel, living quarters and offices were located in the multilayered hub, and docking bays for the fleet were arranged around the rim. While heavily trafficked, the installation’s functions were carried out by a small permanent staff which directed the assignments of pilots, maintained their personnel records, and in the rare instances which had befallen Desmond Sanchez all too frequently, held disciplinary reviews.

When Dez was called into Taylor Bradshaw’s office, he stood in front of the colonel’s desk and, taking a deep breath, waited for the inevitable angry tirade to begin. Taylor was a man in his late fifties, with thick gray hair and piercing blue eyes, which again today were filled with a bright sheen of disgust. He was charged with the responsibility of approving pilot assignments. Dez had had several conversations with him over the years he had been with Aurora, and unfortunately none of them had gone particularly well.

“What have you got to say for yourself this time?” the colonel asked.

“You’ve read my report.”

“And a brilliant piece of fiction it is too. Now suppose you tell me the truth for a change.” He paused to press a button on the corner of his desk. “I’m recording this, of course, and after reviewing our conversation, there are sure to be others who’ll wish to speak with you.”

“It’s all in the report.” Dez focused his gaze on the Aurora Corporation’s insignia on the wall behind the colonel’s desk. A brilliant burst of golden light leaping over a dark blue horizon with flaming rays, it was a dazzling tribute to the goddess of dawn for whom the firm was named. The same stunning logo was emblazoned on all the corporation’s spacecraft, and was stitched above the left breast pocket of every uniform Dez had worn.

“I was careless with the security codes, and Blair Quinn found them. He was an accomplished pilot and took the Eclipse for what I’m sure he planned to be a brief and successful flight. The suddenness of his disappearance leads me to believe he experienced the same inexplicable loss of control I encountered, and barely survived. I intend to identify all traffic in the area that night, correlate it with the traffic on the day I nearly lost my life, and come up with the evidence to prove the Eclipse is being stalked by one of our rival corporations.”

Dumbfounded by that boast, Taylor leaned back in his chair. “When it is obvious to anyone who has studied the facts that Blair Quinn wasn’t qualified to pilot the Eclipse, and simply lost control of it, how can you propose such an absurd theory? Is it merely to distract us from your own complicity in this tragedy?”

Dez’s well-tailored uniform enhanced his height and trim build, but for disagreeable meetings such as this, it was uncomfortably warm. He ran his finger around the inside of the collar and wished he were in his flight suit where just breathing wasn’t a challenge. He had had his hair trimmed, polished his boots, and was positive he was neither wild-eyed nor drooling. He knew he looked damn good, but the smartness of his appearance wasn’t the question. His reasoning was.

“I reviewed the controller’s tapes, and there’s no evidence of an explosion. There is no evidence to suggest pilot error. The Eclipse simply vanished, as though it had been swallowed up.”

“By what, some gigantic cosmic whale?” Taylor laughed at his own joke, then caught himself. “It simply disintegrated, Major, and Blair Quinn was vaporized in an instant along with it. Had this happened to any other cadet, it would have been a tragedy, but Edric Quinn is the commandant of the academy. He has enormous influence within Aurora, and you’re going to feel it all as sharply as a knife’s point if you don’t come up with a more lucid story.”

Resigned to his fate, Dez did not even try. “I knew Blair, and it doesn’t matter whose son he was,” he insisted. “He was a fine young man and didn’t deserve to have this happen to him any more than I did. Had you people taken my accident seriously, Blair Quinn would still be attending the academy. Don’t put another pilot up in an Eclipse until we learn who’s after it and can stop them.”

“You’re going to stick with that ridiculous tale?”

“It’s the truth as I see it.”

Taylor opened his mouth to continue pressing Dez for facts rather than fantasy, then realized it was pointless. “You’ve given me no choice but to request a full review. I’d so hoped a semester or two at the academy would restore your perspective. I’m bitterly disappointed to discover it hasn’t. I won’t confine you to your quarters, but make a sincere effort to avoid trouble while you’re here.”

“I always do, sir. I’d like permission to run a comparison of the traffic on the two dates in question.”

Taylor stared up at the earnest young major, and then shook his head sadly. His first impulse was to refuse Dez any use of Aurora’s vast computer network, but hoping a futile search for substantiation would bring him to his senses, he gave in. “You have it,” he agreed. “Be prepared to present your findings at the review board. They’ll need hard data before they’re even tempted to accept your theory as a remote possibility. Frankly, I think you’ll find cosmic whales before you’ll discover a competitor’s ship capable of disabling and confiscating an Eclipse.”

“If it provides an explanation of what really happened, then I’ll be relieved to be the first to discover cosmic whales, sir.”

Not amused, Taylor nodded toward the door. “That’s all, Sanchez, you’re excused. I’ll schedule the review for this time tomorrow morning.”

Dez responded with a crisp salute, and left first to change his clothes, and then to search for a tie between the mysterious incident which had almost claimed the Eclipse, and the one which actually had. Every instinct he had made him believe in a link, but he knew just how little that would be worth to a review board.

An hour later, Dez sat on a tall metal stool while Mari Mitchell, a computer specialist, searched for the information he believed crucial to his defense. Her long red hair fell in tightly coiled ringlets which bobbed across her shoulders each time she tapped a key. Dez had hoped to find someone with more experience on duty, but the ease with which she worked had readily convinced him she knew computers as well as he knew spacecraft.

“I can map the entire galaxy if you like,” she offered.

Dez was so grateful to find someone willing to help him, he could have kissed her, but curbed the impulse. “That won’t be necessary, Ms. Mitchell. Just give me a standard quadrant, and scan for identical ships.”

“Done. You’ll have it in a minute.” She rolled her chair back a foot and reached out to slap Dez on the knee. “I love unraveling mysteries. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

She had asked the question with a good-natured playfulness rather than the seductive purr Rivera would have used, and Dez wasn’t offended. A Sky-child with violet eyes, she was exceptionally pretty, but he was too worried to do more than note it. He smiled slightly, then overwhelmed with longing for the beautiful young woman he had left at the academy, he had to look away.

“Major, are you ill?”

Clear to my soul, Dez thought. “Yes, but it’s not contagious.” The figures he had requested began to scroll down the screen and he nodded toward it to redirect the programmer’s attention. “How’s it look?”

Mari ran a lavender tipped nail down the column of identification codes, and quickly found the answer. “Sorry, sir, the only ship that was in both places was the Eclipse.”

“All right, this time scan by corporation, then by type of ship. Damn it, something sinister has to have been there, and I’ve got to find it before tomorrow morning.”

“I’ll keep working on it. We can always broaden the range.”

“No, it had to have been close.” Dez tried to force his mind back to the morning he had nearly died, but the emotions conjured up were too strong to allow for dispassionate analysis and he had to stop. He would have to rely on Mari’s talents to pursue the problem rather than get caught up in dangerous memories.

“Please keep running everything you can think of, no matter how remote, or ridiculous, the connection seems. I’m staying in the visitors’ quarters, so you can leave a message for me.” Dez got up and pushed his stool aside. “I really appreciate your help. If you can’t find anything, I’ll just have to come up with another way to prove what I know to be true.”

“You haven’t much time.”

“It will have to be enough.” Dez left her and went to the gym. He worked out until his whole body ached as badly as his heart, then swam until memories of blissful afternoons in the warm waters of the Paraiso Sea forced him to leave the pool. There were other pilots using the gym, acquaintances if not friends, but they greeted him warmly. He had expected to be shunned, and appreciated their support, but did not seek out any more of their company. He showered, dressed, and went by the cafeteria to eat supper, then returned to his room where he was disappointed, if not surprised, to find no message from Mari.

He sat down on the side of his bunk and wondered whether he ought not to save all concerned a miserable ordeal and resign that night. He had such little hope of impressing the review board that a resignation appeared to be the wisest course. Logical though it might be, however, it struck him as cowardly. He had been accused of all manner of misconduct lately, but never cowardice. A sudden knock at the door brought him to his feet, but not wanting company he was slow to respond.

It was Mari Mitchell. She was off-duty now, and dressed in a short lavender dress and matching boots. A bright purple fringed bag was slung over her shoulder. Amethyst crystals dangled from her ears, complimenting her violet eyes. “I hope I’m not disturbing you, Major.” She peered around the door and relaxed when she saw Dez was alone.

Grateful for her help, Dez didn’t dare be rude. “No, not at all. Come in. What did you find?”

Rooms in the visitors’ quarters contained only a bunk, closet, and bath and no matter where Mari chose to stand, they would be uncomfortably close. She reached into her bag and withdrew a small bottle of perfumed oil. “This may take awhile. Why don’t you take off your shirt and I’ll give you a massage while we talk.”

Thinking her remarkably original in her approach, Dez couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re very attractive, Ms. Mitchell—”

“Mari.”

“Mari, but what I need is information, not a massage.”

Mari pointed to the bunk. “Trust me. It will help enormously for you to relax. The mind and body are one, and the brain can’t function effectively when the body is knotted with stress. Take off your shirt and stretch out on the bunk.” She removed the lid from the oil, and a lazy curl of a sweetly spiced fragrance filled the small room.

Dez raised his hands. “Oh, please. The very last thing I need is perfumed oil.”

“You’re wrong again, Major. This oil is especially formulated to sooth the senses. It’s precisely what you need.”

“I’m trying to salvage what’s left of my career, and you’re recommending a massage with perfumed oil?”

Man favored him with a knowing smile and again gestured toward the bunk. “I believe I can help you,” she promised, “but if you have no faith in my methods, perhaps I should just go and find someone else who can appreciate me.”

She was undoubtedly appealing, but Dez had to fight to keep the abrasive edge of anger out of his voice. “Just tell me what you learned, and I’ll appreciate you until you beg me to stop.”

“You see what I mean about tension? Make yourself comfortable, and we’ll talk while I help you relax.”

“I know your type. You’re relentless, aren’t you?” Reluctantly Dez gave in and peeled off his shirt. He preferred to wear black when off duty, and hung the dark garment on a peg in the closet.

Mari shook the oil. “Yes, I most certainly am, and I’m also attempting to become a masseuse and need the practice. You help me, and I’ll help you.”

“Just be careful,” Dez warned. “I worked out longer than I should have this afternoon and I’m already sore.”

“You won’t be when I finish.” She waited until he lay down, and then poured the scented oil on her hands. “I love your dinosaurs. They’re perfect for you.”

“Yeah, I’m a relic from Earth.”

“You’re much too young to be considered a relic, Major.” Mari stepped to the end of the bunk and began to work on Dez’s shoulders. Her touch was light, but she knew precisely where to press and knead to sooth the tension from his muscles.

“That does feel good,” he had to admit. “Now what about the information?”

Mari’s fingertips continued to move in slow, rolling circles. “Naturally Aurora doesn’t test prototypes in the main commerce lanes, so it’s not surprising there wasn’t much traffic on the day of your, well, accident.”

Dez had been prepared to merely endure her pokes and prods, but the warmth of her hands and the delicious scent of the exotic oil were bringing him a much needed glimpse of peace. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Go on,” he urged.

“The fact that we found any ship within range is surprising. What is even more surprising is that Tier-radyne was running a three-ship convoy.”

“They convoy their massive transport vessels all the time.”

“Yes, they do, but between their mining colonies, and the planets where the ores are processed into metals. I tracked their usual trade routes, and the convoy wasn’t near any of them. There’s no such thing as a rogue convoy, Major. They must have had a mission and it could easily have been to disable your ship.”

“Thank you for believing in my theory, Mari, but the review board will insist opportunity isn’t proof.”

Mari moved around the bunk, scrambled up on it, and with a nimble ease straddled Dez’s hips. She moved her fingertips down his spine, then up and out over his broad shoulders. His skin was a handsome bronze, and she traced the outline of a swooping pterodactyl purely for her own pleasure. She could feel his body beginning to relax and smiled to herself.

“Don’t despair, it gets better. Tierradyne had another three-ship convoy in the academy’s vicinity the night the cadet disappeared. I went back and checked their location the previous week and they had been moving at a tenth of their usual speed until the night in question. That’s when they hit maximum power. Doesn’t that strike you as suspicious?”

“A convoy in and of itself isn’t, but if it’s off its usual route and changes speed suddenly, then yes, indeed it is. The convoy wasn’t made up of the same ships though, was it?”

Mari paused to pour another drop of oil in her palms. “No, but they were the same type of ships, and they’re huge. That means if they’re capable of disabling an Eclipse, they could easily have taken it on board and flown away with it.”

“Just swallowed it up like a cosmic whale?”

“Good analogy, Major. Let’s call this the Jonah project.”

Growing sleepy, Dez yawned wide. “That’s a good name for it, but while Tierradyne’s actions are definitely suspicious, I still need more.”

“How’s your history, Major? Do you remember the Stealth ships?”

“Vaguely. They were examples of twentieth-century attempts to evade radar, weren’t they?”

Mari moved back slightly and began to concentrate on his sides. “That’s right, but when the nations of Earth embraced peaceful coexistence, the technology was no longer needed. Thank God war didn’t follow man into space, but if the Eclipse is as good as it is rumored to be, then the engineers at Tierradyne would naturally want a look at it. What if they had borrowed from the Stealth technology and had a ship capable of flying undetected by the other corporations’ satellites? It could launch from a transport ship, track the Eclipse, somehow disable it, and tow it back to the transport. Clever, don’t you think?”

“Diabolically, but we could still track the Eclipse, and the night Blair was lost, it simply vanished.”

“Hmm.” Mari concentrated on her technique while she considered that troublesome detail. “A Stealth ship is invisible to radar, so if it flew between the Eclipse and the tracking station, the Eclipse would be lost in its shadow, wouldn’t it?”

“Eclipse the Eclipse, you mean?”

“Precisely. Maybe we can’t prove it, but perhaps you can convince those in charge of testing not to test the Eclipse if there’s a Tierradyne convoy within a thousand miles.”

“No small feat,” Dez grumbled. “They already think I’m deranged.”

“Well, you look awfully good to me.”

Dez turned his head to glance up at her. “Thanks, but there’s no way I’m going to dazzle them with my looks in the morning. The best I can hope for is to make them aware something deadly, if unexplained, is happening. I’d been flying the Eclipse everyday for more than a week. That would have been enough to lure Tierradyne, or anyone else into the area. It was just Blair’s bad luck that they got him instead of me.”

Mari increased the width of her motions to cover his shoulder blades. “I think we’re onto something, Dez, and regardless of what the review board decides, I’m going to keep working on it.”

“Good.” Mari was a bright and enthusiastic young woman, but Dez knew all she had done was embroider his theory with a bit of fanciful detail. It wasn’t going to be nearly enough to convince a board which had a passion for fact rather than imaginative speculation.

Completely relaxed now, his thoughts drifted to Blaise. It wasn’t difficult to pretend it was her hands dancing across his back and he wished she were there to help him sift through the sparse facts he had. Instead of despair, he would be elated should she be so close. Her belief in his abilities had helped him more than he had realized, but even after she graduated from the academy, and Aurora’s strict policies would no longer keep them apart, Blair’s disappearance would be an insurmountable barrier to their ever recapturing the sunlit days they had shared.

No, Blaise was out of his life, but try as he might, he couldn’t, quell the desire her memory evoked. “Mari, I think you better go.”

Mari rested her hands lightly on his back. “And if I’d rather stay?”

Dez longed to be with a woman, but Mari was the wrong one. “I’d be thinking of someone else the whole time, and that wouldn’t be fair to you.”

“Why not? I’d be the one enjoying it, and I’d never complain.”

“No, but I would. Thanks for the information, and the massage, but I’d like you to leave.”

The sadness in his voice convinced Mari not to argue, and she slid off his back. She picked up the oil, dropped it into her purse, and bent down to kiss his cheek. “If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

Dez heard her close the door on her way out, and for a brief instant wondered how long he would miss Blaise so badly no other woman would interest him in the slightest. The answer came in a heartbeat: he would miss Blaise forever.

Chapter Nine

Dez’s father and grandfather had been Aurora pilots, and the first toy he had owned had been a model of the Mars shuttle. Both men had died young, and as Dez waited in the hallway for the review board to begin, he considered it a miracle that he had survived as long as he had. The present question was whether or not he could hang on to his job with Aurora, because without that, his life would be as good as over at twenty-nine. When he was called into the review, he entered with a deceptively confident stride, and hoped the board was in an uncharacteristically forgiving mood.

The five members were seated behind a gleaming metal conference table, and at first glance, appeared to be as acutely uncomfortable as he. Dez knew Taylor Bradshaw, but while he recognized the others, he knew them only by reputation. None had attended the interviews after he had nearly lost the Eclipse, and he hoped that would work to his advantage.

Joel Essen was in his forties, but still as blond as he had been as a child. His eyes were a luminous green that reminded Dez of a saltwater aquarium, and they held not even a glimmer of compassion. Slim, his gray uniform fit him with casual elegance. A colonel, he was responsible for the advanced training all pilots received each year.

Next to him, Dr. Abbot Grove sat reading a copy of Dez’s personnel file. In her late thirties, she was a psychologist who worked with Taylor on assignments. A model of corporate efficiency, she wore her red hair short and brushed forward like the crest of an exotic bird. The expression in her amber eyes was guarded, and Dez feared she was interpreting every incident in his file as damning evidence he was unfit for any kind of flight duty.

At her right, Eva Bergeron was drumming her bright copper nails on the table in a syncopated rhythm. Violet-eyed, she wore her honey blond hair pulled back and knotted at her nape. In her early fifties, she ran the payroll division and was widely admired for being able to correctly quote the cost of every single item the Aurora Corporation had ever purchased. She would not let anyone forget Dez was responsible for the loss of a billion-dollar prototype.

Donald Orendorff occupied the last place at the table. He had begun his career piloting freight vessels and now supervised the pilots who ferried supplies to Aurora’s vast network of colonies. He wore a predatory smile as though he saw in Dez’s latest misfortune the opportunity to recruit him for his branch. Fair and pale, he was one of the few Aurora executives to wear a beard. A youthful thirty-five, his neatly trimmed whiskers made him look like a teenager masquerading as an adult.

“Good morning,” Dez greeted them cheerfully, but their responding murmurs weren’t encouraging. A water pitcher and five glasses had been placed on the conference table for the board’s use, but no provision had been made for his comfort. That was typical of the behavior of Skychildren, Dez wasn’t even sur-prised. They took care of their own. Every gesture they made told him he didn’t belong.

Taylor Bradshaw sent a questioning glance toward the others seated at the table, and their nods assured him they were ready. “Major Sanchez,” he began wearily, and then without a single wasted word, he charged Dez with gross negligence that had resulted in Blair Quinn’s death and the loss of the Eclipse. “If, since last we spoke, you have thought of something actually relevant to your defense, please share it with us now.”

Dez clasped his hands behind his back. Despite Taylor’s not-at-all-subtle hint not to suggest un-proven theories, he did so anyway. “I’ll take full responsibility for Blair Quinn having access to the codes that allowed him to fly the Eclipse, but it’s my firm belief the ship was lost due to hostile action by one of our competitors.” The board members’ eyes widened in astonishment. Undismayed, Dez continued relating his theory in a calm, confident manner. He explained how the Tierradyne Corporation had convoys operating nearby during both incidents involving the Eclipse, and urged a full investigation of their actions.

“I’ve no proof they actually have the technology required to hijack the Eclipse in flight,” Dez admitted, “but because their convoys had strayed from the standard commerce routes, their presence is sufficiently suspicious to warrant further study with the specific intention of establishing their guilt.”

Taylor leaned back in his chair and uttered a groan that sounded to Dez very much like a bullfrog’s mating call. Joel raised his strange green eyes to the ceiling. Abbot and Eva exchanged incredulous glances, while Donald Orendorff alone appeared to be intrigued. Dez directed his next comment to him.

“I realize I deserve a reprimand for allowing a cadet access to secret codes, but you can’t ignore the threat to future tests of the Eclipse prototype. Protecting the Eclipse, and the pilots flying it, ought to be your primary concern, not punishing me for misconduct.”

“It’s always easier to shift the blame than to accept it ourselves,” Abbot Grove replied. “So I’m not surprised by your attempt to incriminate Tierradyne. But the simple truth is, had Blair Quinn not gotten the access codes, he would not have been flying the Eclipse, and regardless of how it happened, the ship would not have been lost. I don’t believe a reprimand is nearly strong enough punishment for you, Major. Frankly, because you contributed to Blair Quinn’s death, this could easily be considered a criminal matter.”

Edric Quinn had threatened to prosecute him for murder, and Dez wondered if the idea had originally come from him rather than Abbot. He countered with the strongest argument he had. “I believe the Eclipse was hijacked, Dr. Grove, and that Blair Quinn is being held by those responsible. If he is murdered, it will be on the hijackers’ hands, not mine. The faster we move, the better our chances will be to rescue Blair and recover the Eclipse before its innovative design is irrevokably compromised.”

Donald Orendorff slapped the table with an open palm. “Amazing, absolutely amazing. We call you in to discuss what you admit to be gross negligence, and you charge us with the responsibility of investigating what can only be described as an unsubstantiated case of piracy. You have immense courage, Major, if very little in the way of sense.”

Dez did not even flinch at that insult. “How many prototypes and pilots will Aurora have to lose to realize I’m speaking the truth? The Eclipse has a greater range than the scout vessels currently in use by any of the corporations. It represents a tremendous advance which is bound to spur further exploration and colonization.

“Vanguard can’t manage the colonies it has. Bi-olink seldom explores. The Janus Corporation carries out long-term scientific investigations on carefully selected sites. Aurora already has the Eclipse. That leaves Tierradyne, which aggressively seeks mineral wealth, an excellent reason to want the Eclipse. Their errant convoys must provide the opportunity.

“At the very least,” Dez warned, “track Tier-radyne’s vessels and don’t test another Eclipse within a thousand miles of them.”

Taylor Bradshaw knew the meeting had gotten badly out of hand, and struggled to restore the board’s authority. “Is there anything more you’d care to add before we discuss your case in closed session, Major?”

“Yes. I want permission to stalk Tierradyne’s convoys with the hope of recovering Blair, and the Eclipse, before any more time is lost.”

“We’ll consider your request,” Taylor assured him. “You needn’t wait. This may take us the better part of the day to unscramble.”

The interview had not deteriorated into the bitter confrontation Dez had expected. Somewhat relieved, he left the meeting and went to the computer division to find Mari. Bent over her keyboard, she appeared to be in the midst of a difficult project. He grabbed a stool and took a seat beside her. When she turned and smiled, he was glad not all Skychildren thought Earthmen ought to remain on Earth.

“I thought of something else,” he told her.

“Good morning,” Mari replied, “how are you? Your muscles aren’t stiff I hope.” She had caught her hair atop her head in an amethyst encrusted barrette and it fell in a glowing cascade of curls. She winked at him, as though his lack of manners weren’t much of a problem.

“I’m sorry. That was rude of me, wasn’t it? I feel great, thank you, so I’ll be able to go back to the gym this afternoon without moaning the entire time. How are you?”

Mari batted her eyelashes coyly. “I’m bearing up quite well considering how lonely I was last night. Now tell me what you need, and maybe we can strike a new bargain for it.”

Mari was adorable, but Dez needed information, not a tryst. “I want to know where those suspicious Tierradyne convoys were bound. If we don’t have a satellite observing the location, then I’m going to demand one today.”

“I thought you might get curious about that, so I completed plotting their courses this morning. They were both bound for Zareba, a planet on the frontier Tierradyne claimed six years ago. They’re mining precious metals, and have one of their largest maintenance bases there. More than half the planet is covered in dense rain forests, so it’s doubtful we’d get much information from satellite photos. Of course, if they have the Eclipse, they’d fly it sooner or later, wouldn’t they? We’d definitely want confirmation of that.”

“Thank you.” Dez had always been stationed at the bases where test flights were the priority, and they were clustered around Fleet Command rather than on the edge of the frontier. “That’s a long way away,” he mused thoughtfully.

“So is the distance between two human hearts.”

“I was right; you are relentless. I’m going to the gym, but I’d like to take you to dinner later. Are you free this evening?”

“Most definitely,” Mari promised.

“Good, I’ll see you later.” Dez forced his mind off the boards’ deliberations, but hoped he would have something to celebrate by supper time.

Blaise lay stretched across Jourdan’s bed, watching him pack. He would be catching a shuttle flight in a couple of hours, and now that the time had come for them to part, she did not know how she would find the words to tell him goodbye. He was too dear a friend to dismiss with a distracted kiss, but she still felt so empty and lost, she did not believe she could offer anything more.

His temporary lodgings were attractive and roomy. While not as plush as the instructors’ quarters, they were bright and comfortably furnished. Blaise ran her hand over the charcoal gray bedspread and then began to trace a figure-eight pattern.

“Did you make your quota?” she asked.

“One over, which is good,” Blair boasted.

“Is that counting me?”

Jourdan shoved the last of his shirts into his flight bag, and came over to the bed. He sat down beside Blaise and took her hand. “Yes, but this doesn’t have to be your final choice. You can always change your mind if you decide another branch is more appealing.”

Blaise squeezed his fingers. “I won’t.”

“Did you tell your parents you want me to submit your name?”

“No, the semester’s just begun, and it’s a long time until graduation. Although—”

“Although what?”

Blaise frowned slightly. “I’ll need to discuss this with my counselor, but I believe I could arrange to take the finals for all my courses in December, and graduate then. It’s only one semester early, and because I already know most of the material we’ll be covering, there’s no reason to remain here an extra semester just putting in time when I could be getting a head start on my career.”

“But you love it here,” Jourdan argued, “and the last semester is the most fun. There are parties nearly every weekend, and all sorts of celebrations prior to graduation. You wouldn’t want to miss those.”

He spoke with such enthusiasm, Blaise knew his memories must all be good. Unfortunately, hers couldn’t possibly be as sweet. “Do you really think I could enjoy graduation parties when Blair wouldn’t be there too?”

Jourdan brought her hand to his lips. “After being together twenty-one years, I know it will be difficult to remain here on your own, but look at it this way, you’re comfortable here. You’re at home with your parents, and with their love and support, it will be much easier for you to adjust to being alone than if you were on a test base with strangers.”

With a slight tug on his arm, Blaise pulled him down beside her. “Memories of Blair echo all around me here,” she complained. “What I need is someplace new where I won’t expect to see him around every corner. Besides, as a test pilot, I’d get to see you more often than if I stayed here.”

Jourdan tried not to smile too wide. “I’d like that very much. Would you?”

“Hmm.” Blaise answered with a kiss that was extremely pleasant if not passionate, and Jourdan replied with one of his own. He swept her hair away from her face, and kissed her cheeks, and then her throat. He kissed her lips again, and when she slid her arms around his neck, he moved over slightly and separated her legs with his knee.

Blaise closed her eyes and tried to let Jourdan’s tender affection touch her heart, but despite how badly Dez had treated her, she still wanted him. If she made love with Jourdan now, it would be Dez’s touch she felt, not his, and believing that would be the worst sort of betrayal, she turned away.

“I’m sorry. I feel so safe with you, but—”

Jourdan leaned back to study her expression. He had wanted to leave her smiling, but there was the sparkle of tears on her lashes, and he knew he had failed. “But it’s not enough?” he prompted.

“It ought to be,” Blaise assured him, “perhaps it’s just too soon.”

Jourdan did not know if she were referring to Blair’s death, or the love affair she’d once mentioned that hadn’t worked out. Either way, she was reluctant to be with him, and he would never force her. He sat up, rolled off the bed, and offered his hand.

“Come on, let’s go get something to eat. They never have anything good on the shuttle, so this will be my last chance for a tasty meal for a while.”

Blaise let him pull her to her feet, then combed her hair with her fingers. She did not want to keep apologizing, yet felt that she should. The last time she had been with Dez, she had not known it would be the last time, and she had left him asleep, perhaps dreaming of her. Goodbyes were vitally important to her now, and she tried to think of something suitable while Jourdan checked the apartment to make sure he hadn’t left anything behind. He finished before she succeeded.

He was handsome, bright, and she had loved him dearly once, but as he stacked his belongings by the door, she felt only the warm bond of friendship, noth-ing more. Her rational mind told her not to let him go, while her battered emotions begged for the comfort of Dez’s arms. She had lost too much in a short space of time to feel anything except sorrow, but as Jourdan turned toward her, she smiled bravely.

“I’ll let you know my plans,” she promised, “and maybe we’ll see each other sooner than you think.”

Jourdan took her hand as they left his apartment for the last time. “I hope so. It would be good for both of us, and we deserve something good for a change.”

The day was warm, and as Blaise matched the length of her stride to his, she hoped with all her heart his wish would come true.

Dez was in the gym swimming laps when a messenger came for him. He got out of the pool, dressed, and arrived, his hair still damp, at the review board within ten minutes. He had not been encouraged by the group’s expressions that morning, and now, in late afternoon, their mouths were pulled in tight lines of bitter annoyance. He wished he had prepared alternative plans in the event they fired him, because it sure looked like he was going to need them.

Taylor Bradshaw again served as spokesman. “Yours is one of the most difficult cases we’ve ever had, Major, and I want you to know that we’ve given it our best effort.”

“I appreciate that, sir,” Dez replied, positive they were going to fire him.

“Unfortunately,” Taylor continued, “we’ve split into several camps. Two of us have voted for criminal prosecution. One is willing to accept your resignation as sufficient penalty for your negligence, and two are convinced the exemplary record you had maintained prior to being assigned as the primary test pilot for the Eclipse is sufficient proof of your fine character and generally excellent conduct to merit keeping you on.“

As Taylor paused, Dez surveyed the board and tried to decide which position each member held. Dr. Abbot Grove had been the one to mention criminal prosecution earlier, so he assumed she still held that harsh view and had convinced one of the others to join her, probably Eva. Joel and Donald supervised pilots, and he thought it likely they were the ones who wanted to give more weight to his record than his current problems. That left Taylor as the lone vote for resignation.

It was Donald Orendorff who spoke now. “We asked you to come back in hopes you’d help us gain further insight into how this tragedy occurred. There’s nothing in your personnel file to even suggest, let alone indicate, you’ve ever been careless with the confidential paperwork involved in testing prototypes. We’re confused as to why you’d leave vital security codes on your desk where anyone might have seen them. Can you explain how that happened, please?”

Dez looked away a moment, and hoped the panel would think he was merely collecting his thoughts. The proof was in his records. He was never careless, not even with the smallest detail, and such a monumental blunder was not only inexcusable but highly unlikely. He had a lot more than his career riding on his answer, because he doubted he would be found innocent in Blair’s disappearance should he have to stand trial. The possibility of going to prison made being fired positively appealing.

The simple fact was, he had not left the security codes on his desk, but he would go to prison before he would admit Blaise Quinn had watched him use them. Surely they both had suffered enough for following their hearts. He shook off melancholy thoughts of her, and faced the board squarely.

“I was new to the academy and unfamiliar with an instructor’s routine. I had all sorts of paperwork on my desk, schedules, student rosters, plans for my lessons. I didn’t deliberately leave the codes out where they could be found. It was simply an oversight, and I take full responsibility for it.”

Taylor Bradshaw held his breath, waiting for Dez to again accuse Tierradyne of hijacking the Eclipse, but when he did not, he hurriedly excused him. “Thank you, Major Sanchez. Please wait outside.”

There was a bench in the hall, but Dez could not have sat still so he paced up and down beside it. He tried to analyze his case from an objective point of view, and could easily rationalize any outcome from criminal prosecution to dismissal. He had never wanted anything but to be a pilot for Aurora, and it was difficult to imagine himself doing anything else. Of course, if he went to prison, he would have plenty of time to explore other careers.

A prison sentence would cost him his pilot’s license, and while he was a fair mechanic, he would not be able to stand working on spacecraft he couldn’t fly himself. Most colonies had high-speed rail lines, but driving a train wasn’t like flying. Aurora had colonies which resembled Earth in that they had more sea than land, but he couldn’t see himself rainsoaked, on the deck of a ship. No, he was a pilot and that’s all there was to it.

Taylor leaned out the door. “Major, would you join us, please?”

Dez looked up and down the hallway but there was no sign of the security troops the board surely would have called if they had planned to put him under arrest. He pulled on his collar, took a deep breath, and again walked in to face what he hoped would not be too horrible a consequence for his actions. When Donald Orendorff winked at him, he hoped it was a signal their decision hadn’t gone against him rather than merely a personal invitation he did not care to pursue.

“We voted again,” Taylor announced. “Two still believe you ought to be prosecuted, but the person who voted for your resignation has decided to go along with the two members who claim your fine record entitles you to clemency.”

“Thank you.”

“Please, you needn’t thank us yet,” Taylor warned. “You were relieved of your position as test pilot prior to being stationed at the academy. Because that assignment ended so badly, we feared it might be difficult to find any branch willing to take you, but Colonel Orendorff believes your qualifications are superb for long-distance transport. There’s no glamour in it, of course, and you’ll have to put in much longer hours than you did as a test pilot, at a reduction in pay because it isn’t hazardous duty.

“If you have any reservations about this new type of assignment, and prefer to resign, you may do so without fear of prosecution. We will not, however, be able to recommend you for a position with any other firm. We will furnish a statement that you attended our academy and worked for us for eight years, but will provide no details. That may seem unkind, but in your case, it will work to your advantage if the specifics of your resignation are not revealed. If you’d like time to think this over, please take it. We’d rather not have you remain with Aurora if you’re going to be bitter about your situation.”

“Of course,” Dez replied. They were offering him long, dull, tedious flights in hopes he would resign. He had thought being banished to the academy had been bad, but this was infinitely worse. A proud man would reject such a depressing offer immediately, but nearly dying in the Eclipse had burned away whatever pride he may have had and he did not react hastily.

“Can you give me some specifics on your offer, Colonel Orendorff?” he asked.

“Certainly. At present what we need are pilots for the frontier shuttles. You’ll be stationed on Ariel, which has few amusements at present, but we’re improving the site, and if your work is as fine as it has been in the past, you’ll be eligible for transfer to more, shall we say prestigious routes. You’re not being exiled, Sanchez, but being given the opportunity to make a fresh start under different, and we all hope, better, circumstances.”

Zareba was within a day’s journey of Ariel, so there would already be satellite coverage of the activity there. That fact alone was enough to influence Dez’s decision. “I don’t need additional time to consider your offer,” he stated firmly. “I welcome the opportunity to be a shuttle pilot, and I’m ready to start tomorrow. I do have one other question, though.”

Taylor shook his head. “I’m almost afraid to ask, but go ahead.”

“I want my firm conviction that the Eclipse was hijacked placed in the ship’s test records, along with a warning that tests ought not to be conducted if Tierradyne is running convoys in the area. While the officers responsible for testing may not believe my theory, I want them to be fully aware of it.”

After a long hesitation, the board members nodded their agreement. Dez walked up to the conference table and shook hands with each one of them. “Thank you for being fair.” Dr. Grove’s hand was cold, while Eva Bergeron held his a moment too long.

In an instant he knew she had not voted against him after all, and he smiled at her. As they began to file out of the room, he waited to speak with Colonel Oren-dorff.

“It will take me a day to cut your orders,” Donald said, “and I’ll make your travel arrangements so you’ll be able to join a convoy bound for the frontier. I had to talk awfully fast to convince the others this was the best way to handle your case. Don’t let us down.”

“I won’t,” Dez promised, but he was already plotting a way to visit Zareba, and discover just what Tierradyne did there other than routine maintenance. If he was right about their hijacking the Eclipse, he would recover not only the ship but Blair Quinn, and most assuredly be regarded as a hero rather than a negligent liability. Perhaps he and Blaise would never reconcile, but if he rescued her brother, he knew she would no longer hate him, and he would be content with that.

Edric Quinn entered his house cursing so loudly Blaise heard him even with her door closed. Leaving her studies, she joined him and her mother in the living room. “What’s happened now?” she asked, unable to imagine anything worse than what had already befallen them.

“I received a transcript of the proceedings this afternoon, and Desmond Sanchez managed to slip by the review board with no more than a change in assignment. The bastard deserves to hang, and instead they set him free to fly shuttles on the frontier.”

“There’s been no capital punishment in nearly three centuries, dear,” Jasmine reminded him. “Execution was never an option.”

Edric continued to fume. “Perhaps not, but he ought not to have escaped prosecution. Sanchez belongs in prison, not on the frontier where he may do as he pleases while our son is dead.”

Blaise leaned against the back of her favorite chair. “What Major Sanchez enjoys is the thrill of flying prototypes,” she informed him. “He might have preferred being hanged to being sent to the frontier. I sincerely doubt he went willingly.”

“Are you taking his side?” Jasmine asked. She had been delicate before Blair’s death, and had grown frail.

“No,” Blaise assured them. “He’s the last man I’d ever offer my support, but although I knew him only briefly, I’m sure what you regard as merely a change in assignment is severe punishment for him. Now can we find something more pleasant to discuss? It’s almost time for supper, and I don’t want this news to ruin it.”

“Blaise is right, dear,” Jasmine agreed. “Let’s be thankful the three of us can be together tonight, and not let anything disturb us.”

Edric kissed his wife rather than argue, but he couldn’t put his hatred for Desmond Sanchez aside for any reason, and prayed the first shuttle he was assigned blew up when he launched it.

Blaise returned to her room to prepare for supper, but like all of her actions, her motions were slow, her spirit depressed to the point of despair. She alone knew how highly Dez valued his career, and this latest assignment, which could only be described as a shameful demotion, would be a terrible blow to him. She wondered if he felt as wretched as she did, and because she believed he deserved it, she hoped he rotted in the obscurity of the frontier. Perhaps the sheer monotony of his duties would force him to think of her, and given time, maybe even miss her, if just a little bit.

As for her, she intended to have a glorious career, and she wouldn’t waste one precious second missing him.

Chapter Ten

Dez carried his flight bag across the sand-dusted runway toward the row of low buildings adjacent to the tower. Concrete and glass, the pilots’ quarters bore too close a resemblance to the instructors’ quarters at the academy for his tastes, but in an effort to keep costs down in the colonies, Aurora built as many projects as possible from every set of architectural plans they commissioned. There were those who found the resulting conformity comforting, but Dez thought the monotony was just plain dull.

When he got closer, he noted an important difference from the academy, where the living quarters where attractively landscaped and neatly kept. On this bleak outpost on Ariel, waves of iron-rich red sand had blown against the buildings, staining them pink and forming scalloped dunes around the perimeter. He turned, hoping for a glimpse of colorful vegetation, but the base was surrounded on all sides by a vast red desert. An oppressive heat rolled over him, making him long for the controlled climate of a space station. Hoping it would be cooler indoors, he quickened his pace.

He reminded himself that he was supposed to regard being stationed here as an opportunity rather than exile, but the wind blew the coarse sand around his boots with an eerie wail that sounded more like a banshee’s warning cry than a welcome. Aurora had sent him as far as the corporation possibly could, but he intended to work his way back. Seeing no one around the apartments, he veered off toward the hangar where someone was pounding furiously, creating a wildly defiant clang that served as the perfect accompaniment to his mood.

Dez stepped inside the side door and watched in amazement as a young woman dressed only in a pair of red shorts and a leather apron attempted to beat the right curvature into a piece of sheet metal to mend a gapping hole in the side of a shuttle. When she paused to wipe her brow, he called out to her. “If you’ll help me find who’s in charge here, I’ll give you a hand with that.”

Sula Damek turned and looked Dez up and down very slowly. She liked what she saw, laid her hammer aside, and walked toward him. The top of her apron came high enough to hide her nipples, but left most of her full breasts bare. Her bright burgandy hair stuck out from her head in wild spikes, and her violet eyes were heavily shadowed with smokey amethyst tattooing. Another tattoo, a brightly colored cobra, was coiled around her right arm, its hood flared, its fangs bared as it reached her shoulder.

Her ample mouth was outlined in bright red, but her smile was a cocky, off-center grin. “You must be Major Sanchez,” she said in a voice as gritty as the desert sand.

“Yes, I am.” The closer she came, the harder Dez found it to suppress the impulse to take off running in the opposite direction. She was the most bizarre mechanic he had ever encountered, but from the easy way she had been swinging her hammer, she appeared to know exactly what she was doing. He strove to admire her talent, rather than bolt at her shocking appearance.

Sula wiped her sweaty palm on the back of her shorts and held out her hand. “Sula Damek, chief mechanic, and for the time being, I’m in charge.”

Her handshake was as firm as Dez had expected. Her nails were clipped short and rimmed with grime. “I didn’t realize this place would be so deserted.”

“Yeah, I suppose it does look desolate today, but that’s just because the other pilots stationed here are flying runs to the colonies. I’ve been unable to convince the post commander, Jac Seltzer is his name, that it’s impossible to service our fleet efficiently when the ships are either all in or all out. That’s only one of the many finer points of administration he’s unable to grasp. The man is an idiot, but the standards here aren’t what Aurora maintains elsewhere, so I’m undoubtedly expecting too much of him. Don’t get discouraged. A man with your talent won’t be here long.”

A fine layer of red sand had seeped into the hangar and colored Sula’s bare legs clear to her knees. Her toenails were polished a burgandy shade that matched her hair. Dez tried to find a place to focus his eyes that wouldn’t distract him from their conversation. Fortunately, Sula had a cute nose. She was probably only a few years older than he.

“I certainly hope not. How did a woman of your obvious ability end up here?”

“That’s a long story. Want an ale? I have some in the cooler.”

Dez followed her over to a beat-up blue cooler. She raised the lid and handed him a bottle of ice-cold ale. She took one for herself, popped off the cap with her thumb, and poured half the contents down her throat.

“There, that’s better,” she exclaimed, but her voice sounded like it issued from a throat no less parched.

“I wound up here because I got involved in a tragic love story. Now, I realize I might not strike you as the romantic type, but I am. When I fell in love, it was with my whole heart and soul, but Kane, he was my husband, had neither. He cheated on me; I objected with a laser pistol. Sliced him up real good, too. If I’d killed him, I’d still be in prison, but because the surgeons were able to fit the pieces back together, I served only three years. You needn’t be afraid. I’m fully rehabilitated.”

She gestured with her ale bottle. “Of course, I ought to be working in a better place than this, but I’ll get back to Fleet Command in time.”

Dez tapped his bottle against hers. “To better assignments,” he said, and they both took a long drink.

“There are several vacant units in the pilots’ quarters,” Sula told him. “There are names on the doors of the occupied apartments, so just take one nobody’s claimed. None are locked; go have a look and take your pick. Major Fizz, as we all call him, has the largest unit. It might be wise to stay as far away from him as you can get, because he’s as nosy as hell.”

Dez dropped his empty bottle into the rack next to the cooler. “Thanks for the ale and the tip. Is he in the tower?”

“No. This time of day he’s usually in his apartment taking a nap. Go stow your gear, and then I’m going to insist you keep your promise and help me out here. This will be your ship, so I know you’ll want it to look better than it does.”

Alarmed, Dez looked back toward the battered shuttle. At least ten years old, it looked as though its last pilot had chased meteor showers. “I don’t care how it looks if the engines are good. Are they?”

Sula drained the last of her ale before replying. “Nothing leaves this hangar without my okay, Major. That ship may be full of dents, but she flies as well as she did on her maiden voyage. You’ve got a load of grass seed to deliver as soon as we can get you in the air.”

“Grass seed?” Dez tried to convince himself this was important work, but he sure didn’t believe it. “Where are the other mechanics?”

“Some are at lunch, but most of them quit last week after the fire.”

“I didn’t see any evidence of a fire as we landed.”

“That’s because we bulldozed what was left of the tavern, and the drifting sand’s covered the foundation. I hope you like your own cooking, because that’s the only choice we’ve got here for the time being. You can buy whatever you like from the commissary at the base of the tower.”

“I’ve been meaning to learn how to cook.”

Sula threw back her head and howled with laughter. Her teeth were very white. “I like your attitude, Major. We’re going to get along real well. I can see that already.”

“Thank you, Sula. I’m sure that’s high praise coming from you.”

“Damn right it is. Now you better go claim your quarters before Major Fizz wakes up and puts you next door to him.”

Dez gave her a quick salute and jogged out of the hangar. He felt as though he had landed in some bizarre cartoon, and yet the surreal quality of his new surroundings was strangely comforting, because it did not remind him of anywhere he had ever been. There had been tears in Mari Mitchell’s eyes when he had left Fleet Command, but with a woman like Sula Damek to keep him entertained, he doubted he would miss her.

Major Seltzer’s name was on the apartment farthest from the field. Most of the other occupied units were in the back as well, forcing Dez to choose one in which his bed would undoubtedly vibrate each time a shuttle landed. He was hanging his uniforms in the closet when someone rapped at his front door. Not ready to entertain callers, he tried not to be rude when he found Major Seltzer on his doorstep.

“Good afternoon, sir. I understood you were unavailable at this time of day, but I’d hoped to speak with you later.”

A barrel-chested man with coarse gray hair and more wrinkles than a bulldog, Jac Seltzer preferred flight suits to an administrator’s tailored uniform, but the truth was, neither flattered a man of his compact build. Because Dez was tall, slim, and handsome, he took an immediate dislike to him. “I’m going to be straight with you, Sanchez, this may be one of Aurora’s most remote bases, but I demand the same excellence of performance that you’d find at a test base. You get sloppy, or careless, and I’ll have you transferred out of here on the next flight.”

Dez recognized Major Fizz as a deeply frustrated man who had probably labored on the fringes of Aurora’s holdings his entire career. He had made major because he had put in the requisite years, not as Dez had as a reward for superior performance. He had never been greeted in such a disrespectful fashion, and rather than cower, he laughed in Jac’s face.

“Is that supposed to be a threat? Look, we both know coming to Ariel wasn’t my first choice, but I intend to perform whatever duties you assign me with the very same pride I’ve given all my work. If you have something for me to do, fine, otherwise, I’d like to finish unpacking.”

Seltzer’s mouth fell agape. “I’ll not tolerate such insubordination!”‘

“What can you do to me?” Dez challenged. After all, he thought, they held the same rank, and it was only a difference in assignment that made Seltzer his boss; but when a glow of panic filled the irate major’s eyes, Dez actually felt sorry for him. “Don’t worry. I won’t challenge your authority, but don’t ride me again. Let’s both try and make the best of this.”

Saliva bubbled at the corners of Jac’s mouth. “This is my command and I give the orders!” he fumed.

“Are you an academy man?”

“No,” Seltzer denied testily.

“I thought not.”

Seltzer’s face flushed and he began to back away. “Unpack, then check with the tower. They keep the roster of assignments.”

“Yes, sir,” Dez answered with more than a hint of insolence. As Seltzer walked away, Dez noticed that his feet turned out, giving him a duck’s comical waddle. “Welcome to Ariel,” Dez muttered under his breath, “paradise of the frontier.” No tavern, a head mechanic straight out of a nightmare, and a commanding officer who deserved to be called Major Fizz. Why wasn’t he surprised?

Dez helped Sula repair the worst damage to his ship’s hull, and delivered the grass seed to a colonial outpost eager to receive it. He was greeted there with an enthusiasm that embarrassed him until he realized it was the grass seed they were so eager to have, rather than his company. Intending to spend the night there, he ate supper in a tavern which served a peculiar hybrid fowl with bright orange feathers. The bird could be ordered barbecued, fried, roasted, or stewed, and taking a tip from the waitress, Dez ordered the stew.

He had finished half the stringy meat and soggy vegetables when a stranger approached his table. Because he was expected to ferry passengers as well as freight, he nodded when the man asked if he could join him. “They recommend the stew,” he warned, “but I certainly don’t. Have a salad.”

“Thank you, but I’ve already eaten.” The man’s voice was rich and deep, rolling over his tongue like a singer’s. “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Trane Mardag, and I’ve been waiting for you.”

Dez nodded. “The tower handles the shuttle tickets, but as far as I know, the return flight to Ariel isn’t full.”

Trane was thirty-seven. Nearly seven feet tall, he possessed an athlete’s grace. Blond, he had the same strange green eyes that had made Joel Essen’s gaze unnerving. His speech was very deliberate, as though English were not the language of his choice. There was no insignia on his tan flight suit, but it was heavily trimmed with copper-colored braid as though he were a man of some importance. He reached into his breast pocket and produced a tan card with raised copper lettering.

“I’m with the Tierradyne Corporation, and after the way Aurora has treated you, we’re hoping you’ll seriously consider coming to work for us.”

Dez choked on his stew and quickly covered his mouth with his napkin. Carefully worded treaties made it possible for employees of the five interstellar corporations to visit each other’s bases, but Dez was nonetheless shocked to find a man from Tierradyne sharing his table. “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,” he replied when he caught his breath.

A slight smile tugged at the left corner of Trane’s mouth. His lips were thin, almost effeminate, but his manner was coldly masculine. “Don’t waste our time, Major. Project Eclipse is in trouble, and you’ve been blamed. Ariel isn’t a fit home for a pack of wild dogs, while Zareba is a veritable paradise. We have experimental ships of our own which I’m positive would interest you. You were Aurora’s premier test pilot. I’m offering you the opportunity to become ours.”

Dumbfounded, Dez wondered if Tierradyne had a mole at Fleet Command or if they simply relied on intercepting satellite transmissions for sensitive information. It really didn’t matter, since his presence in a frontier colony proved the truth of Trane’s words. “I appreciate your offer, but working for Aurora is a family tradition I’d rather not break.”

“Not all loyalty is commendable,” Trane advised. “We can make you a very wealthy man in a relatively short period of time.”

“I have simple tastes and few needs.”

Trane cocked a pale brow. “I imagine you might find all kinds of fascinating new diversions should you have the wealth to pursue them.”

Dez had learned to trust his instincts long before he had become a test pilot. Trane Mardag’s icy stare reminded him of a lizard, and other than dinosaurs, he had never been fond of reptiles. He wanted to investigate whatever Tierradyne might be doing on Zareba, but every sense he possessed warned him this was not the way to go about it. If Blair Quinn was still alive, then they would keep him alive a while longer, and if he wasn’t, then a delay wouldn’t matter.

“Sorry, but I’m just not interested. Now you’ll have to excuse me, I have things to do.”

Trane slowly unfolded to his full height. There were a great many Skychildren seven feet tall, and clearly he enjoyed the advantage it gave him. “I’m sorry we couldn’t come to an agreement.” He plucked his card from the table where Dez had left it. “I insist that you keep my card. If you change your mind, you’ll need it to contact me.”

Dez slipped the card into his pocket, but only because it was evidence of their conversation. A confident man, he was comfortable with most people he met, but Trane Mardag made him feel terribly uneasy. He looked as though he knew far more than he was telling, and Dez was positive that he did.

As soon as he returned to Ariel, Dez went straight to the tower, then to the hangar to find Sula. “What do you know about Zareba?” he asked.

Sula wiped her hands on an oily rag as she replied. “It’s a Tierradyne base, so I haven’t any interest it in. Do you?”

“Yes, I think they’re doing more there than maintenance, and I’d like to take a look.”

“Check with the tower. They have satellite photos.”

“I did, but they don’t show anything other than mines, hangars, and rain forest.”

Sula walked over to the cooler, got herself an ale, and brought one back for Dez. “Maybe that’s all there is. Did that occur to you?”

“No. How can I get a Scorpion in here?”

Sula eyed him with a skeptical glance. “Planning on doing a little reconnaissance on your own, Major?”

Dez took a sip of ale. “Let’s just say I’d like to go exploring on my days off.”

Sula scraped her bare foot across the sandy floor, making a wide arc. “We had a scout land a Scorpion here last year, or try to. A wind gust got him just as he came in and he bounced down the runway like a child’s ball. It was a pitiful sight. He was unhurt, but the Scorpion ended up in seventeen mangled pieces. I’ve got them in the shed out back. Been meaning to weld them back together, but just haven’t had the time. If you’d like to give it a try, I’ll help you whenever I can.”

Dez had not expected to have to build a ship himself, but he couldn’t think of another way to get one. “Fine, let’s do it, but while we’re at it, let’s boost the power and increase its range.”

Amused, Sula started to giggle. Coming from her, it sounded like a low, rumbling gargle. “What are you hoping to do, Major, build your own Eclipse?”

“Yeah, I think with a mechanic of your superb talents, I can come real close.”

Before they could go out to the shed, Major Fizz entered the hangar. “I’ve got another run for you, Sanchez. We have a shipment of solar generators that need to go out as soon as you can refuel your ship. As for you, Sula, get yourself some coveralls!”

As usual, Major Fizz had barked out his orders rather than issuing them in a more gentlemanly fashion. He had made a point of avoiding Dez since their first conversation, and stood fidgeting nervously as he awaited his reply.

“He says that every damn time he sees me,” Sula whispered.

“Yes, sir,” Dez called out to him, taking a perverse delight in being agreeable. “I’ll get right on it.” When Fizz had left, Dez again confided in Sula. “This is real important to me, Sula. If we’re going to need parts, find a way to order them.”

“That’s easy enough. Fizz never questions my pur-chase orders. In fact, I’m not all that sure he can read. Tell you what, the ship has been reported as destroyed, so I’ll arrange for you to buy her as scrap metal. That way, when we finish reassembling her, she’ll be yours.”

Dez pressed a quick kiss on her oily cheek. “Perfect. Find a way for me to pay for the parts so there won’t be any argument later about the insides either.”

“That might take a bit of doing, but I’ll arrange it. You go on and deliver the generators. I’ll take a look at the Scorpion and order whatever we need. This might be kind of fun.” She poked him in the ribs with her cobra-wrapped elbow. “I’ve been looking for a man who’s good with his hands. I sure hope you don’t disappoint me.”

Dez didn’t take his eyes off her as he backed away. “No, ma’am, I don’t want to risk being shredded like coleslaw.”

“I knew you were smart the moment I laid eyes on you.”

“Anyone can tell you I’m smart. Just look how far it’s gotten me.” Dez laughed as he left the hangar, but his conversation with Trane Mardag had left him anxious to expose the Tierradyne Corporation for the pirates he was sure they were. As soon as he could get the Scorpion in the air, he would start paying them some well-deserved, if secret, visits.

Because Major Fizz kept Dez’s schedule full in the coming weeks, he and Sula weren’t able to work on the Scorpion nearly as often as he had hoped. When she had a chance, she worked on it alone, but the base was still short several mechanics, and that didn’t happen often. She usually spent her evenings drinking, listening to mournful love songs, and missing Kane. If Dez didn’t catch her early enough, she was too drunk and depressed to be of any use.

This particular evening, they had eaten dinner together in her apartment, which was decorated with an extensive collection of posters of Aurora’s fleet. She wasn’t much of a cook, so Dez hurried her through the meal and they had the whole evening to work on the Scorpion. Once they had identified all the pieces, reassemblying the lightweight hull hadn’t been difficult, but the engines were full of sand and had to be completely taken apart and cleaned which was slow, tedious work.

Sula had donned a shirt to cook in, and so was more fully dressed than Dez usually saw her. She was perched atop a tall stool, and working on bits and pieces no one but a master mechanic could identify. “We can give your ship larger fuel tanks without spoiling the aerodynamics. That will increase the range, but there’s no way to get more power out of the engine without doing more extensive modifications than you might want to attempt. The choice is up to you.”

Dez was polishing the scratches from the Scorpion’s badly scarred hull, but stopped to answer. “Are you calling me a coward, or merely inept?”

Sula responded with one of her gargling chuckles. “Neither. You’ve seen the Eclipse. I haven’t. How close can we come to duplicating its power with what we’ve got here?”

“If I were working alone, nowhere near, but you could do it, Sula.”

“I learned not to pay attention to flattering lies a long time ago. Kane had a million of ‘em. I should have published an alphabetized list so no woman would ever fall for them again.”

“You spend a lot of time thinking about Kane. Why is that, when you wanted him dead?”

Sula made a face at him. “There’s one of the great mysteries of the universe for you. I suppose because bad love is better than no love at all. You ever been in love, Major?”

Dez came over to the bench and dropped a bolt that needed cleaning into a pan of oil. “Yes,” he admitted reluctantly, “and it’s a tragic love story too.”

Longing for an ale, Sula sent a wistful glance toward the cooler, then decided to wait a while. “Tell me about it. After all, I shared my pitiful story with you.”

“I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

“Tell me how you met her,” Sula coaxed. “Did you know at a glance she was the one for you? I knew in an instant with Kane. He had a glow, an aura, I guess you’d call it, that no one else could see. Of course, now I wish I’d been looking in the opposite direction that first time he walked by. Would have saved us both a lot of grief. So tell me, did she sparkle for you?”

Dez smiled at the memory of Blaise in her yellow gardener’s coveralls. “You could say that.”

“Yeah, I could, but I’m waiting to hear you tell it.” Having waited long enough for a drink, Sula went to get them a couple of bottles of ale. She handed Dez his, and then clinked hers against it. “To love.”

Dez decided he must have been on Ariel too long. Sula was beginning to look quite normal to him, and her cynical attitude was almost charming. “Sorry, Sula, I can’t give you any details, as it would get me in more trouble than I’m already in.”

Sula’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Well, let me hazard a guess then. Nothing you did with another pilot would cause a ripple of notice let alone a scandal, but it’s easy to imagine how you might have gotten yourself in trouble at the academy. What did you do, sleep with the commandant’s daughter?”

Caught with a mouthful of ale, Dez blew it all over her. He quickly grabbed the cleanest of the rags she had been using and tried to dry her off. “I’m sorry, Sula, that was unforgivable.”

Sula yanked the rag from his hand and dried herself off. “I heard enough wild tales from Kane to recognize guilt when I see it. My God, Major. You really did seduce a cadet, didn’t you?”

Most of the pilots stationed there had only been out of the academy a year or two. Attractive young men and women, every time Dez saw one, he was reminded of his students’ fresh young faces. “I think we better drop this subject and get back to work before I make any more incriminating blunders.”

“You’re blushing!” Sula laughed clear from her toes. “Come on,” she encouraged. “You’ve got to tell me the rest now.”

“No, I’m not going to admit a thing.”

“You already have,” Sula argued. “Look at this place, Major. You think Fleet Command is taping our conversations? You can tell me anything, and I swear to you it won’t go any further.”

She raised her hand in a solemn vow, but Dez knew better than to trust anyone with such a tasty bit of gossip. It would get to Major Fizz by tomorrow noon, and he would rather drown in the pan of oil they were using than risk that. “I’ve been in love, and it ended tragically. No one got sliced with a laser pistol or went to prison, but it was tragic all the same. Now, love didn’t get either of us anywhere but this godforsaken outpost, so let’s concentrate our energies on boosting the Scorpion’s engines, and forget romance.”

Sula was too tenacious to give up without hearing what sounded to her like a delicious secret. “I’m going to get the truth out of you before you leave here, Major.”

“Boost the engines, and I’ll take you with me.”

“Now, there’s an inspiring thought.” Sula picked up a rag and went back to cleaning, but every now and then she’d glance up, cluck her tongue, and laugh.

Dez spent the next three weeks transporting seeds for the colonies’s spring planting. Each one followed the same evolutionary schedule, whereby the colony’s first goal was to become self-sustaining. Once food was plentiful, expansion began in a thoughtfully designed pattern. Unlike Earth, where prime agricultural land had once been the scene of reckless urban sprawl, Aurora’s colonies were carefully built with cities and residential communities on terraced hillsides, and the vast plains were reserved for the abundance of grains and produce a mostly vegetarian population required.

Dez knew such artfully designed communities were undoubtedly best, but he could not help but miss the careless confusion of Earth, where cities had evolved over the centuries, most without any planning whatsoever. Earth cities had character, charm, and even if many were a maze in which visitors easily became lost, he preferred them to Aurora’s, where the schools were always on precisely the same corners and banks sat on exactly the same lots.

He came home late one night after a long flight and found an invitation to a Christmas Eve party attached to his door. The red desert looked the same as the day he had arrived. With no visible change in the season, the holiday had slipped up on him. He had picked up a bougainvillea vine in one of the colonies he visited for Sula, but now he wished he had shopped for a more personal present for her. Still, the flowering plant would be unique, and he thought she would like it. He showered, dressed, and followed the noise to the party, which had been going on for several hours.

Most of the pilots stationed at the base were there. The men who could find a woman were dancing to a slow tune, while the others stood in small groups, filling the apartment with noisy laughter. Dez waved to Sula, who was dancing with another mechanic, and moved around the edge of the room. He and Blaise had never taken the time to dance, and that suddenly seemed like a terrible oversight. When the music ended, Sula came to find him. She was wearing a dress, which surprised him, as he didn’t think she even owned one. It was black, a strapless creation that left her arms bare, and she had inked a red ribbon and bow around her tattooed cobra’s neck.

“That’s a nice touch for the holiday,” he told her.

“Thought you’d like it. Come on, dance with me.”

It was difficult for Dez to think of Sula as a woman after all the hours they had put in together on the Scorpion, but he knew she would be badly insulted if he said so. “It will be a pleasure,” he assured her. He didn’t hold her nearly as tightly as the mechanic had, but she looked up at him often and smiled. When the music ended, she remained by his side. The mechanic asked her to dance again, and she cast an anxious glance over her shoulder, but Dez just smiled. He didn’t want her thinking there could ever be anything between them. After all, he sure didn’t want to take Kane’s place, and she could never take Blaise’s.

He left the party then, found a shovel in the hangar, and planted the bougainvillea beside Sula’s door. He knew plants didn’t like to be moved when they were blooming, but hoped it wouldn’t drop too many of its glorious fushia leaves that most people believed were its flowers. He thought Sula would have too much to drink to notice it that night, but she would see it in the morning, and know he had tried to brighten her life as best he could.

He returned the shovel, then stood outside his apartment and gazed up at the star-filled sky. As holidays went, this certainly wasn’t one of his best, but he had no real complaints.

Major Seltzer was out for a stroll, and halted abruptly when he saw Dez. “I didn’t know you were back. Merry Christmas.”

“Thank you. Merry Christmas to you.”

Jac hesitated a moment, and then took a step closer. “Fleet Command is trying to keep it quiet, so don’t tell anyone you heard this from me, but the rumor is they’ve lost another Eclipse.”

Dez sagged back against his door. The night was warm, as always, but he felt chilled clear through and began to shake. He crossed his arms over his chest to keep Major Fizz from noticing. “When?”

“Last week sometime. Of course, they don’t want it known, but I have my sources.”

Dez sincerely doubted Jac Seltzer had any sources whatsoever, but nodded nevertheless. “Did you hear the pilot’s name?”

Jac frowned. “It wasn’t anyone I knew. Koby something. You know him?”

“Koby Burne. Yeah, I know him. He was in my unit. I’ve got to go to Fleet Command. They wouldn’t believe my warning before, but they’ve got to heed it now.”

“Sorry, we’ve got too much freight to haul and I can’t spare you now. Maybe in a month or two.”

When Dez didn’t argue, Jac continued his walk, but he was badly mistaken in believing he would be obeyed. The Scorpion wasn’t ready to fly, but Dez had an empty shuttle out on the runway, and before Major Fizz was awake on Christmas morning to stop him, he was gone.

Chapter Eleven

The first time Dez stopped to refuel, he feared he might be detained on Major Jac Seltzer’s orders, but he was greeted with no more than crude jokes on the sorry condition of his ship’s hull. “She may not be pretty, but she’s the finest shuttle in the fleet,” he replied proudly. The same scene was repeated several times in his long journey to reach Fleet Command. It wasn’t until he docked there and found a message from Sula waiting for him that he understood why his trip had been so easy.

Before the Christmas Eve party had ended, she had heard there was another Eclipse missing, had been unable to find him, and had guessed where he had gone. She had then played on Major Fizz’s general ineptness and, strong-arming the other pilots into ferrying the freight assigned to him, had convinced the major that Dez was out making the rounds of the colonies as usual. Dez hadn’t meant to involve Sula in his plan, but he had to admire her audacity. The clever subterfuge wouldn’t have worked with a competent administrator, but Major Fizz hadn’t suspected a thing.

Considering Sula’s message a good omen, Dez checked into the visiting pilots’ quarters, cleaned up, donned the gray uniform he hadn’t worn once on Ariel, and went straight to Taylor Bradshaw’s office. As he came through the door, his gaze locked onto a lieutenant already waiting to see the colonel. A jolt of recognition shot clear through him. He understood instantly what Sula meant by an aura, because she was aglow with a radiant light. She was the last person he had expected to see there. Dez was rooted where he stood and couldn’t find his voice to greet her.

Blaise felt an equally stunning charge of physical magnetism emanating from him. No other man had ever affected her as strongly as Dez had, and while she doubted she would ever find the same delicious thrill with anyone else, in her mind, he had made the wrong choice and was lost to her forever. She left her seat and came toward him. “Have you heard about Koby Burne?” she asked.

Dez swallowed hard, but his heart was still pounding too fast for him to speak. He nodded.

“Good. I’ve been trying to get Bradshaw to investigate this latest disappearance as part of a pattern, but he refuses to see the obvious. Now that you’re here, maybe I’ll get somewhere.”

She was even more beautiful than Dez had remembered. Clearly angered by Taylor Bradshaw’s lack of response, her cheeks held the same subtle blush she’d had in his arms. He would have been content to stare at her all day had the situation not been so dire. “I had to go AWOL to get here,” he confided softly. “What are you doing in a lieutenant’s uniform?”

Shocked by his announcement, Blaise did not even hear his question. She gestured for him to follow her to the corner farthest from Colonel Bradshaw’s secretary’s desk. “You left the frontier without permission?”

Dez knew she was wondering how he of all people could have jeopardized his career in such a reckless fashion, but he did not have all that much left to risk. “That’s right. A friend’s covering for me, and my commanding officer doesn’t know where I am.”

“That’s quite a friend.”

“Yes, she is.”

Imagining a beautiful pilot, Blaise had to look away. She had no legitimate reason to be jealous. After all, Dez had made it excruciatingly plain the love they had shared was over, but that didn’t stop her heart from aching with a ravaged sense of betrayal.

“How fortunate,” she managed to reply.

“So, what about the uniform?” he repeated.

“I completed my studies early. Took the spring finals before Christmas and I’ve been stationed here at Fleet Command temporarily, but I hope to go on to my permanent assignment soon. My appointment with Bradshaw was for fifteen minutes ago, but he knows why I’m here and he’s stalling. Will you go in with me?”

Dez was grateful that Blaise was as committed to demanding an investigation as he, but on a more deeply personal level, he wished she had been glad to see him purely out of love. He had been the one to push her away, so he had no one but himself to blame for her maddeningly distant attitude, but it hurt him badly all the same. “I’ve missed you,” he admitted without realizing he had spoken the thought aloud.

“Really? I’ll bet that surprised you.” Bradshaw opened his door then, and Blaise moved toward his office with a brisk stride. “Major Sanchez will be joining us,” she announced as she swept by him.

Dez saw Bradshaw cringe, but didn’t care. “Good afternoon, Colonel,” he greeted him lightly. “You may regard Lieutenant Quinn and me as the Eclipse task force, since there doesn’t appear to be one.”

Bradshaw sent his secretary a pleading glance, but unable to provide a means of escape, she just shrugged. He closed his door and returned to his desk, while Dez and Blaise took the chairs opposite him. “Please,” he began, “don’t be impatient with us. We’re doing all we can.”

“That’s a damn lie and we all know it,” Dez shot right back at him. “Did you warn Koby not to fly the Eclipse if there was any trace of a Tierradyne convoy in the area, or did that important fact just slip your mind?”

In a brief search for something he failed to find, Bradshaw shuffled through the papers on his desk, then sat back and folded his hands in his lap. “We made you that promise at your hearing, Major, and we relayed your warning.”

“Was it followed? Or was there a Tierradyne convoy in the area when the second Eclipse was lost?”

“That’s the information I was looking for just now. Apparently, that data hasn’t been requested as yet.”

Dez and Blaise exchanged exasperated glances. “It’s a wonder this corporation is still in business,” Dez remarked. “Tell your secretary to ask Mari Mitchell in the computer unit for the information. She’ll have it up here in less than five minutes.”

Bradshaw used the communications panel on his desk to relay the request, and just as Dez has predicted, Mari brought it to them herself in a matter of minutes. “Dez!” she exclaimed, her expression lit with delighted surprise. “Why didn’t you tell me you were back?”

Dez stood and took the printout she carried. “I just got in.”

One glance at the attractive programmer’s enrap-tured smile was enough to make Blaise wonder how many women Dez had. “What did you find?” she asked, fearful of being forgotten.

Mari peered around Dez to reply. “The same convoy we identified as being in the area when Major Sanchez experienced difficulty with the Eclipse was nearby when Koby was lost. It accelerated speed and set a course for Zareba. How could this have happened?”

Not about to justify his lack of action to a programmer, Bradshaw quickly dismissed her. “Thank you, Ms. Mitchell, you may go.”

Mari waited for Dez to protest, then realized he wouldn’t. “See you later?” she inquired.

“Sure,” he said absently. Dez was now too angry to return to his chair, but he waited until Mari had closed the door on her way out to speak. He tossed the printout on Bradshaw’s desk. “I don’t think Koby was warned, and I sincerely doubt that you can find any proof that he was. You probably buried my remarks to the board in a footnote that went no further than my personnel file.

“Lieutenant Quinn has lost a brother. I nearly died and have now lost a good friend. How much longer is the corporation going to pretend there’s nothing unusual happening with Project Eclipse?” When Taylor Bradshaw just stared at him, Dez reached for Blaise’s hand to help her from her chair.

“Come on, we’re wasting our time here. Let’s go find Eva Bergeron. She’ll stop the testing, if only to save the additional expense of losing another prototype.”

“Major,” Bradshaw cajoled. “A panel has already been selected to study the problems we’ve experienced with the Eclipse. Return to your assignment on Ariel, and I’ll see that you receive the first copy of their report.”

“What good is a committee that doesn’t include Dez and me?” Blaise asked. “We’re the ones most personally involved, and yet in all the times I’ve been to your office, this is the first I’ve heard of it.”

The colonel noted the way Blaise referred to Desmond Sanchez, and while he thought it odd that she was on a first name basis with him, he had too much on his mind to worry about any possible impropriety in their relationship. “There were no test flights of any kind flown over the holidays,” he informed her. “But it is the testing branch that is carrying out the current investigation. Colonel Andrus, your former commander, Major, is in charge. If you wish to serve on his committee, then I suggest you contact him.”

Washing his hands of the matter, Taylor Bradshaw left his chair and escorted them to the door. “Good day to you both.”

“Dez?”

Dez didn’t care what anyone thought now and again took her hand. “Come on, we’ll discuss this later.” He led her through the outer office and into the hall. After making certain no one was close enough to overhear, he explained. “Andrus blamed me when I nearly lost the Eclipse. He claimed I must have serious mental problems to even imagine that something outside the ship caused the difficulty. He took over command of the testing unit just prior to the arrival of the Eclipse and he’d rather commit suicide than see the project fail.”

Blaise pulled her hand from his and looked Dez right in the eye. “You mean he values his career more highly than the truth? Unfortunately, I know the type.”

Dez could readily understand the reason for her sarcasm, but that didn’t make the remark any easier to hear. “Come back to my room with me,” he suggested. “We’ve obviously got a great deal to settle before we can work together on Project Eclipse.”

Blaise knew how small the pilots’ quarters were, because she had been assigned a room there herself. There was a single chair for the desk built into the wall opposite the bed, and the bed, which also served as seating. No matter how they arranged themselves, their knees would be touching and she could not imagine anything more painful than being so close to Dez when it wouldn’t be in an affectionate exchange.

“That’s not a good idea,” she argued. “Let’s go to the cafeteria and talk there.”

Dez couldn’t understand how she could offer such an inappropriate alternative. “I’d rather not discuss personal matters in a public place.”

Blaise did not recall him being so difficult, but she refused to give in. “I’ll not discuss anything in your quarters!”

Blaise started to turn away, but Dez reached out to catch her arm and stopped her. His eyes searched hers. “Are you afraid of me?”

Blaise responded with a derisive laugh. “Why should I be afraid of you, Major? You can’t hurt me again. I’m wise to your tactics now and I won’t give you the chance.”

Blaise wasn’t just skewering him, she was twisting the rod, but Dez stubbornly refused to let the pain show. “There’s a small library at the end of this hall. It’s private, but certainly not an intimate setting like my quarters. Let’s talk there.”

Blaise crossed her arms over her chest. “On one condition. The only subject open for discussion is the Eclipse.”

“Damn it, Blaise. There’s so much more to be said.”

“Goodbye then.” Dropping her arms, she started to turn away.

“Oh, all right. Come on.” Dez again took her arm, but she pulled away from him. Walking several steps ahead of him, she led the way to the library. It was a professional library containing reference materials and decorated in a deep forest green. Gleaming metal bookcases lined the walls. There was a small conference table and six chairs. A soothing room, it was seldom used, but Blaise took the precaution of checking for other visitors and didn’t take a chair until she had satisfied herself they were alone.

“What can you tell me about Colonel Andrus?” she asked. “Is he likely to conduct a thorough investigation?”

Disappointed she didn’t care about anything but the Eclipse, Dez dropped slowly into the chair opposite her. “To his way of thinking, yes, but he won’t look beyond the readily available data, and he’ll never accept the theory that Tierradyne is involved. After all, the corporations have been in space for nearly three hundred years. There’s never been a conspiracy like the one I’m trying to prove.”

“At least none that was discovered.”

“Did Jourdan or your father give you my message?”

Blaise frowned slightly, and forgetting she had refused to discuss anything of a personal nature, fell victim to curiosity. “What message was that?”

Dez sighed unhappily. “I tried to see you before I left the academy, but I didn’t get past your front door. Your father acted as though I’d killed Blair in cold blood. You must have been asleep or you would have heard him threatening me.”

Blaise studied his expression and finally noted he didn’t just look tired. He’d lost weight, and it showed in his face. If anything, being leaner made him even more handsome. Apparently, being posted to Ariel had been every bit as difficult for him as she had imagined. Her mood softened, but only slightly. “They didn’t tell me anything. What was your message?”

Dez again wished he had been blessed with eloquence. “I asked them to tell you how sorry I was. I’d hoped that you’d understand I meant for everything.”

Blaise crossed her legs and adjusted the drape of her pant leg over her boots. Aurora issued the same expertly tailored gray uniform to both men and woman, although the cut made allowances for the difference in male and female bodies. “When you weren’t at the memorial service, I just assumed you’d left without bothering to see me.”

“Do you really think so little of me?”

He looked sincerely pained by that possibility, but he had already abandoned her once, and Blaise did not see how he could imagine she would think anything else the second time it happened. She thought of the girlfriend who was covering for him on Ariel, and the pretty red-haired programmer, and decided it didn’t matter what she had thought when he obviously had not missed her.

“It doesn’t matter now,” she finally replied. “I want you to tell me the truth about something.”

Dez’s eyes narrowed. “I wasn’t the one who had difficulty with the truth.”

“Please,” she scolded. “Do you think there’s any chance at all that Blair could be alive?”

Forced to become serious, Dez sat back in his chair. “I hope with all my heart that he is, but other than the appearance of Tierradyne convoys, which can’t possi-bly be a coincidence, I’ve no proof.” He debated a minute and then told her about meeting Trane Mar-dag. He stressed just how unsettling the brief encounter had been.

“The chief mechanic on Ariel is helping me rebuild a wrecked Scorpion, and as soon as I can, I’m going to make flights to Zareba. I don’t care what Andrus’s investigation uncovers; I’m going to make one of my own.”

“Won’t that be dangerous?” Blaise asked.

“It can’t possibly be any worse than what happened to me in the Eclipse. If they’re holding Blair, I’ll get him out, Blaise. I promise you that.”

Blaise’s vision blurred with a mist of tears, but she hurriedly blinked them away. “It’s my fault that he was lost, Dez. I ought to be the one to go.”

“No, don’t even think about it. If I get caught, I can always say I’m there to see Mardag about his job offer and wanted to observe their operation on my own before I introduced myself at the gate.” Dez paused, but couldn’t hide his anxiety. “Maybe I should have taken him up on his offer when he made it. It might be the only way to get at the truth. But he gave me such a bad feeling, I just wanted to get away from him.”

Intrigued, Blaise leaned forward slightly. “How do you mean?” Did he make lewd remarks, or was he simply crude?“

“No, neither. He was just, well, it’s difficult for me to describe him without insulting you, which I would never do intentionally, but he’s the ultimate Skychild. Seven feet tall, blond, glassy-eyed, he struck me as a replica of a man rather than as a human being. Just sitting at the same table with him was unnerving. I’ve never felt that way before.”

“Maybe he wasn’t human.”

“Aurora can’t make androids or cyborgs that lifelike; I doubt Tierradyne can.”

Blaise responded with a graceful gesture. “Zareba is on the frontier. We’ve not encountered alien beings before now, but isn’t it possible they could have come to one of Tierradyne’s outposts? I imagine conversing with an alien would affect anyone strongly.”

Dez shook his head. “One thing at a time, Blaise. I want to check out the base on Zareba, prove Tierradyne has hijacked two ships from Project Eclipse, and if God is still with me, rescue Blair and Koby. I can’t stop to think about the possibility of alien beings until that’s done. I haven’t eaten all day and I won’t be able to think at all if I don’t have supper soon. Please come with me.”

“You’re inviting me to dinner?”

She looked amazed, and Dez couldn’t help but smile. “Yes, I enjoy your company, and I’d like to keep working on solving the mystery involving the Eclipse. As you told Bradshaw, you and I are the two people most vitally involved, and I believe we ought to work together.”

Blaise mulled that over a moment, then remembered something. “Didn’t you tell that wonderfully helpful programmer that you’d see her tonight?”

She was jealous! Dez controlled the width of his smile. “She has been a great help to me and I intend to thank her, but our relationship is strictly a professional one.”

“That must be a great comfort to the woman who’s covering for you on Ariel.”

Dez rose, taking Blaise’s hands and pulling her from her chair. “Sula is the chief mechanic. She has spiked burgandy hair and a magnificent cobra tattoo swirling around her right arm. She’s also served time in prison for attempting to filet her husband, and she and I are never going to be more than friends. I’ve not been with another woman, Blaise, and I doubt you’ve been with another man.”

Blaise was enormously relieved, and yet determined not to give him a second chance to shred her heart. “I’ll be happy to have dinner with you, but while we’re satisfying your appetite, I’ll not satisfy your curiosity about my personal life. You had your chance with me, Major, and you threw it away with both hands.”

Dez could have denied that accusation, but he did not want to relive their disastrous past. “The less said about what happened between us at the academy, the better. I want to concentrate on here and now.”

“So do I,” Blaise agreed, “and as far as I’m concerned, the only thing we have in common is an interest in the Eclipse.”

For now, Dez thought to himself, but he wouldn’t take that answer for long.

When they went to their rooms to change clothes before dinner, Dez and Blaise found they were neighbors, their quarters separated by only two units. They agreed to meet at the elevators in half an hour. Blaise had once had a colorful wardrobe, but since Blair’s death had worn only black. An ancient custom, it nonetheless offered the comforting reassurance that she had once had a twin, even though he was now lost.

She chose the most severely tailored of her gowns, not realizing the elegant black sheath flattered her slender figure and fair coloring superbly. She coiled her hair atop her head, put on a pair of black slippers, and left her room. She passed Mari Mitchell in the hall, and turned back to see the programmer knock on Dez’s door. Anxious to see Dez talk his way out of having two dinner dates, she quickly returned to her room and left her door slightly ajar.

Dez didn’t invite Mari into his room, and even knowing eavesdropping was unpardonable, Blaise did it anyway. She was disappointed not to be able to hear clearly, but caught enough of their conversation to learn that Mari was far more excited to see Dez than he was to see her. He was polite, but mentioned plans for the evening and quickly sent the programmer away. Ashamed of herself, Blaise closed her door and waited until she heard Dez walk by before she again left her room.

He was also dressed in black, and Blaise tried to convince herself it did not matter in the least how handsome he was. He didn’t have the slightest understanding of love, or even the smallest appreciation of her feelings, and those were the qualities that mattered most in a man. He did thrive on risk, however, and she knew if anyone could solve the mystery of the Eclipses’ disappearances, it would be him. Each time their eyes met, she thought only of the Eclipse, and how much she wanted her brother back.

Fleet Command had several restaurants, and Dez had made reservations at the most expensive. Located directly beneath the clear-domed roof of the space station, it provided a spectacular view of the heavens and offered delicious cuisine. The lights were low, to enhance the glorious starlit sky, a string quartet serenaded the guests with melodies of celestial beauty, and the air was sweetly perfumed by the bouquets of fresh flowers on each table. Dez had once thought the place ridiculously romantic, but that night, he feared it wasn’t nearly romantic enough to melt Blaise’s icy reserve.

Dez scanned the extensive menu. “They serve excellent steaks here.”

“I’d sooner eat a shoe.”

“I remembered you didn’t eat meat, Blaise. I was just thinking about what I wanted.”

“Of course.” Jourdan had brought her to the restaurant for dinner when she had first come to Fleet Command. He had soon returned to his test base, and although she remembered the evening they had dined there quite fondly, she was glad she would not have to explain her dinner date with Dez to him. She knew Jourdan would prefer she dated no one else, and until that night she hadn’t, but this wasn’t really a date, she reminded herself. She and Dez were plotting.

She glanced around the room but the dim lighting made it difficult to recognize the other guests. “Colonel Bradshaw didn’t seem particularly surprised that you’d left Ariel to come here and confront him. Are there others, some who could be observing us now, who might think your presence here odd, and check up on you?”

Dez doubted she would admit to being worried about him, but it was difficult for him not to gloat. “When I was a test pilot, I came through here fairly often, so you’re right, I am well known. No one ever questioned my presence then, and I sincerely doubt anyone will now. Everyone knows I’m not the type to accept being exiled for long.”

“How long do you plan to stay here?”

Dez knew better than to reach for her hand, but couldn’t keep the regret out of his voice. “Now that I know Andrus is heading up the investigation, there’s no point in my staying another day. I’ll leave first thing tomorrow.”

Blaise didn’t argue with him, but she wished she could think of a valid reason for him to extend his stay. Their waiter appeared and Dez ordered a steak, while she asked for the Laksa, a dish featuring rice noodles in a coconut curry sauce with tofu and fresh vegetables. Dez insisted upon a bottle of a light colonial wine, and although it was very good, Blaise made a point of drinking only a sip. She already had enough trouble keeping her thoughts and feelings separate where he was concerned; adding alcohol to the equation would have made it impossible.

“I didn’t expect to find you here,” he mused thoughtfully.

“Blair and I were always ahead of our classmates, and when I realized I could complete my courses at the academy early, I saw no reason to stay. Nothing was the way it was before, well, before I lost you both.”

That she considered the end of their affair on par with her brother’s disappearance and probable death, tore at Dez’s heart. “Oh Blaise-—”

Blaise forced a smile. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I’ve heard bad things happen in threes, and I can’t help fearing what’s next.”

“That’s merely an old superstition.”

“Whatever.” Forgetting her intention to remain exquisitely sober, Blaise took another sip of wine. Their waiter returned with bowls of a delicious cream cheese soup, lightly dusted with shaved ginger. It was as unusual a combination as she and Dez were, she thought to herself, but she enjoyed every spoonful.

“What’s the food like on Ariel?”

Dez couldn’t stifle a moan. “There was a tavern that everyone swears served the best food in the galaxy, but it burned down the week before I arrived and hasn’t been rebuilt. That’s forced us to prepare the dried food we eat in flight, and it’s almost a worse hardship than the isolation. There are some beautiful areas on Ariel. Thick forests with icy streams, deep mountain lakes with snowy beaches, but all I do is fly over them. The base is located in the middle of a vast red desert that not even a tortoise would love.

“I’m planning to solve the Eclipse mystery and return to being a test pilot. If I didn’t have that hope, I probably would be as crazy as Colonel Andrus believes.”

As always, Blaise thought sadly, all Dez cares about is his career. Her profession was merely a challenging way to spend her time; people were what mattered most to her. “I don’t know anything about your background,” she realized suddenly. “Where were you born? What did your parents do? Do you have brothers and sisters?”

“New Mexico, pilot and teacher, and no, I’m an only child.”

“In other words, it’s none of my business?”

Surprised by her reaction, Dez leaned closer. “No, not at all. I answered your questions. Why are you angry with me?”

“You answered the questions, Dez, but you didn’t really reveal anything. There’s a difference.”

“You want me to be more revealing?”

The sunlit beach of La Ultima flashed across Blaise’s mind, and she wondered how they had become close physically when Dez guarded his privacy so tightly. “You’ve already made it very clear that it doesn’t matter what I want. Will you excuse me a minute? I’d like to visit the restroom before the waiter brings our entrees.”

Dez stood while she left the table, then sat down and tried not to let his frustration show in his expression. The photographs his mother had treasured of his father were clearer than his memories of the man, so he had no amusing family reminiscences to share. Aurora had provided his mother with a generous widow’s pension, but that didn’t replace the husband and father they had lost. He could still remember his mother’s anguished dismay when he had announced he wanted to attend Aurora’s flight academy and become a pilot too. They had been estranged ever since, and while he sent letters and presents, she didn’t respond. That certainly wasn’t what he’d call entertaining dinner conversation.

The restroom was as elegant as the rest of the restaurant’s decor, with the stars overhead and fragrant bouquets of pink roses. Blaise sat down on one of the gold chairs in front of the long mirror and tried to affect some of the same tasteful style. Her appearance was perfect, but she felt so hollow she was surprised she cast a reflection. Then she noticed Mari Mitchell walking up behind her. Still dressed in her uniform, the programmer wore a sullen frown.

“I’ve a piece of advice for you,” Mari offered without bothering to say hello.

Blaise remained seated. “Do I look as though I’m in need of advice?”

Mari rested her hands on the white marble counter and leaned down to face her. “You’re with Desmond Sanchez, and that proves you do. He’s as cruel as the dinosaurs tattooed on his back.”

Blaise thought it interesting the programmer could describe Dez’s tattoo if they were, as he insisted, no more than friends. “Why do you say that?”

“He’ll be very friendly until he gets what he wants from you, and then he’ll go on his way.”

“Is that a fact?”

“Yes, it sure is. I followed you here, and hoped I’d have a chance to warn you. If you keep on seeing him, you’ll only have yourself to blame when he disappears.”

Blaise rose to her feet and smoothed out the folds in her sheath. “Thank you, but I’ve already learned not to trust Dez, and I’m no competition for you. You’re more than welcome to him.” She left the rest-room before Mari could reply, and the programmer’s astonished expression was reflected again and again in the mirrors that lined the room.

Dez rose as Blaise returned to the table, but he was as amazed as Mari to find her smiling. “I don’t think I’ve seen you smile all day,” he said. “Do they have a comedian entertaining in the ladies’ lounge?”

“You might say that. I ran into one of your women, and she warned me to stay away from you. I told her that was exactly what I intended to do.”

“What women? Who are you talking about?”

“You really do look innocent. Dez. How long did it take you to perfect that expression?”

“About as long as it would take me to turn you over my knee and spank some sense into you!” Dez hissed.

“That approach wouldn’t work,” Blaise teased. “Sense comes from the other end.”

The waiter arrived with Dez’s steak and Blaise’s Laksa, and suddenly hungry, she wound a mouthful of noodles around her fork. “This is really good,” she exclaimed before taking another bite.

Dez regarded the musicians with a wistful glance. He had hoped for a romantic evening, a chance to dance with Blaise, and perhaps, although he did not even dare put the desire into words, something more. She was laughing at him, though, and that was almost worse than being hated. He sawed off a hunk of steak, then realized he would probably choke on it, and cut it in half before taking a bite.

“I don’t have a string of women, Blaise. In fact, I don’t even have one.”

The light that had danced so briefly in Blaise’s amber eyes turned cold. “You’re complaining to the wrong person, and as I recall, the subject tonight was supposed to be the Eclipse. Tell me your plan.”

Again feeling at a disadvantage, Dez shrugged. “I have to get my Scorpion flying first, then run some reconnaissance flights. If I discover anything suspicious, which I’m almost positive I will, I’ll land and get the evidence I need to prove Tierradyne has the missing Eclipses as well as, I hope, the pilots.”

“I want you to keep me posted.”

Dez was grateful for any excuse to stay in touch. “I will.”

“Good. I’ve applied for the test base where Jour-dan Curry is stationed, your old base. Maybe I can prod Colonel Andrus into action from there.”

Dez laid his knife and fork on the side of his plate. “Wait a minute. You haven’t said anything about going to a test base. When did you decide to do that?”

Blaise recalled the exact moment of her decision. “When Blair was lost. Becoming a test pilot was his dream, and I decided to make it mine.”

“Oh no,” Dez argued. “I’d rather see you on deep space probes than testing prototypes. It’s too dangerous, Blaise. If your application hasn’t been processed, withdraw it.”

Blaise shook her head. “We’re not a couple, Dez, and we don’t make our decisions together. Right now, a third Eclipse is being built, and I have every intention of being the first woman to fly it.”

His insides twisted into a painful knot. Dez remembered how his mother had reacted when he had announced his plan to become a test pilot. He finally understood why she had cried.

Chapter Twelve

After a supper that was more strained than enjoyable, Dez walked Blaise back to her room. He was reluctant to tell her good night. Even if they had failed to rediscover the closeness they had once shared, he still clung to the hope that they might. As she glanced up at him, her gaze held a soft, wounded light that drew him near, but when he tried to kiss her, she turned away.

“Everything’s changed,” she whispered. “Let’s not pretend that it hasn’t.”

Discouraged, Dez propped his shoulder against her door. “It’s said the only constant in life is change.”

“Perhaps.” Blaise fell silent a long moment, then remembered something important she had meant to say. “I’d hoped to thank you for lying to protect me. You left the academy before I had the chance.”

It was a small favor, considering the agonizing loss she had suffered, but Dez appreciated her thanks. “The truth would have caused us even more anguish than we already had, but I did it to protect you, not to save myself. I hope you believe me.”

Doubts immediately crept into her mind, but because there was no way to prove his real motive, Blaise took him at his word. “Yes. Please keep your promise and let me know when you begin visiting Zareba. I’m anxious to know what you find.”

Recognizing a dismissal when he heard one, Dez straightened up. “I won’t engage in any stupid heroics, but if I can just get some proof Tierradyne’s behind the calamities plaguing Project Eclipse—and finding an Eclipse would definitely do it—then I can convince Aurora to raid the base with security forces. This has to be our secret, Blaise. Pilots are notorious for spreading gossip, and if it’s widely known I mean to investigate Tierradyne’s base on Zareba, Tier-radyne personnel will be sure to hear about it and be waiting for me.”

“I understand. I promised you once that I was good at keeping secrets. I still am.”

Dez remembered that vow, as he did so many other things about her. He began backing away toward his room. “You know how to contact me. If you go to the test base, which I hope you won’t, let me know. I don’t want there to be any delay in reaching you if I have good news.”

“Yes, I’ll let you know where I am. Good night.” Blaise slipped through her door. The lights came on automatically, but she hit the button to extinguish them and leaned back against the door. She had not dared kiss Dez, because it would not have been nearly enough. She could not have asked for more when she still carried such a heavy burden of guilt-laced grief. She undressed in the dark, then sat down on her bunk and sobbed for the love that should have been theirs.

Perhaps it had all been an illusion they had created out of La Ultima’s sparkling sunlight and tropical perfumes, but seeing Dez again had made it all seem so real. She had heard people refer to someone as the one great love of their life, never understanding how something so precious could be lost. With Dez and her, everything had conspired against them, and as she crawled beneath the covers, she feared it always would.

Dez lasted about three minutes in his room, and then too miserably unhappy to sleep, he left and went to the gym. He had considered the raucous tavern where he had once spent his off-duty hours at Fleet Command, but liquor and wild company weren’t what he needed that night. Not caring how sore he got, he worked out for two hours and then went for a swim. When he returned to his room, he was too exhausted to feel more than the need for sleep, and slept soundly until morning.

He then dressed in his flight suit, packed his flight bag, and was ready to start the long trip back to Ariel. He stopped to eat breakfast, then swung by the computer unit for a final chat with Mari. Because she was the only woman he knew stationed at Fleet Command, he had had no trouble identifying her as the woman who had spoken with Blaise the previous evening.

“Good morning,” he greeted her warmly as he pulled up a stool.

Mari had knotted her hair atop her head that morning, and looked surprisingly prim. “Hello, Major. Looks like you’re leaving already.”

“Yes, I am, but I didn’t want to go without talking to you.”

Mari positively beamed. “I hope you’ll be back soon and have more time.”

“If things go as I expect, that just might happen. If they don’t, well, thank you again for all your help.” Dez continued as though he were unaware of her remarks to Blaise. “The lieutenant you saw me with yesterday in Bradshaw’s office lost her twin brother when the first Eclipse disappeared. We’re working together, but it’s difficult when we’ve gotten such little support. That’s what makes your help invaluable, Mari. I’m leaving for Ariel now, but if you should see Lieutenant Quinn when you’re off duty, I hope you’ll be kind. The poor kid could use a friend.”

Aghast that she had mistaken the beautiful lieutenant for a rival, Mari quickly agreed. “Sure, I’ll look for her.”

Dez rose and gave her shoulder an affectionate squeeze. “Thanks, Mari, I won’t forget this, or you.”

Mari watched him walk away, sorry she had not realized such a fine man wouldn’t treat women as casually as she had believed. She had behaved like a jealous fool; she would find Lieutenant Quinn that very day and apologize. She would also keep tracking Tierradyne’s convoys, so if Desmond Sanchez ever needed information again, she would be sure to have it.

Dez spent the whole way back to Ariel daydreaming of Blaise. She had changed so completely, and yet she was still the same delightfully appealing woman in every way that mattered. She was still as daring, which meant he had to solve the riddle of the Eclipse disasters before she had a chance to fly one. Colonel Andrus might be too rigid in his thinking to accept anything other than pilot error for the problems that plagued Project Eclipse, but he had a special fondness for female pilots and he would surely give her a chance to fly one.

Dez’s only consolation was that Blaise wasn’t stationed at the test base yet. When she was, there would be nearly a dozen other pilots with seniority. Andrus couldn’t choose Blaise to fly the Eclipse without making all his other pilots angry, and he was a man who loved order. He wouldn’t select a lieutenant fresh out of the academy for the next series of test flights, but at the rate the Eclipse was being lost, it wouldn’t take long until Blaise was the only pilot he had to send.

By the time he reached Ariel, Dez was determined to get to Zareba as quickly as possible, but he had just put down on the runway when Major Fizz boarded his shuttle. “Good morning, sir,” he greeted him.

“I haven’t seen you all week,” the major complained.

While Dez had been gone for more than two, he thought the major remarkably perceptive to have noticed he had not been around the last few days. “We’ve had a lot of shipments,” he explained. “I doubt you’ve seen much of anyone lately.”

Major Fizz still looked perplexed. “Yes, that’s certainly true, but I do expect you to check in with me occasionally.”

“Fine, Major, I’ll do that. Do you have another run for me today?”

“No, the last one just went out. Take the rest of the day off. You deserve some time to relax.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Major Fizz hesitated at the hatch. “I was afraid you were going to present nothing but problems, Sanchez, but I’ve been pleased with your work so far. Keep it up.”

Seltzer left before Dez had to promise that he would. Dez just hoped the pilots Sula had convinced to fly his runs wouldn’t expect more than similar favors in return. When he entered the maintenance hangar, Sula was working on his Scorpion’s engines, and all he could see was her bare feet. He tickled one.

“Cut that out right now!” she cried.

“Yes, ma’am, but it’s been so long since I’ve seen you, I got so excited I couldn’t control myself.”

“Dez?” Sula wiggled her way out of the ship. Thrilled to see him, she hugged him, but took care not to touch him with her greasy fingers. “What happened? Tell me all about it.”

Dez followed her over to the cooler. It was early yet, but he knew Sula never missed an excuse to stop and have an ale. After getting away with being AWOL for more than two weeks, he figured he deserved one, too. He gave her a quick synopsis of his visit to Fleet Command, but described Blaise only as the sister of the cadet who had been lost. Not realizing his expression had softened, or that his voice had taken on a warmer tone, he had no idea how much he had revealed.

Sula tapped him on the chest with her bottle. “She’s the one, isn’t she?”

“The one what?”

“The one from the academy.” Sula winked at him. “You know which one I mean.”

Dez was now sorry he had mentioned Blaise’s name. “Enough about my trip; tell me how you managed to cover for me for so long.”

Still curious about Blaise, Sula started to argue, then decided she could pry more information out of him later. “The pilots here all owe me a lot of favors, and I called them in. Of course, your adventure gave them all ideas, and now you’ll have to cover for the rest of them when they take unauthorized vacations.”

“That’s only fair.” Dez finished the last of his ale and dropped the empty bottle into the rack. “How are you coming with the Scorpion?”

Sula was proud of her work, and smiled as she gave her report. “She’s almost ready. You ought to be able to take her up on a test flight by the end of the week.”

“I don’t have time to run test flights, Sula. As soon as you say it’s safe, I’m heading out for Zareba.”

Alarmed, Sula didn’t dare let her feelings show. “Well, you better make damn sure you get back, because I’ve spent too much time on the Scorpion to see her lost.”

Dez brushed her cheek with a light kiss. As usual, she tasted of grease. “Don’t worry. If I can make it to Fleet Command and back without Major Fizz discovering where I’ve gone, then I ought to be able to manage a quick trip to Zareba without any problems.”

“Let’s hope so.”

“One last thing. I want to be able to change the frequency on the Scorpion’s transponder in flight so it isn’t set to Aurora’s usual channel.”

Sula took a long sip of ale and wiped her mouth on her arm. As usual, she was clad only in her apron and shorts. “Communications isn’t exactly my specialty.”

“Flying spy missions isn’t mine, but if we work together, I’m sure we can find a way to reprogram the transponder to a higher frequency after I’ve left the base.”

Sula considered the consequences. “Yeah, but that will keep Aurora’s personnel from tracking you, and if you get in trouble, you might be real sorry.”

“That’s true, but right now I want to make certain Tierradyne isn’t tracking the ship. If my signal is at the edge of the upper range, they won’t be scanning for it.”

Sula finished her ale and placed her bottle into the rack. It was nearly full, and she made a mental note to restock the cooler. “Do you bother to sleep at night, or does that keen mind of yours just keep spinning wild ideas?”

“Not all of my ideas are wild. Did you like the bougainvillea I planted by your door?”

“So that’s what that is,” Sula let out an admiring whistle. “I thought that was your work. Thanks. I should have asked you about it when you first came in. I’ve been watering it every day and it seems real happy by my door. I should have had a present for you.”

Dez gestured toward the Scorpion. “You’ve given me more than enough. I think I’ll paint your name on the side.”

“Don’t you dare.” Embarrassed, and yet obviously pleased, Sula started back toward the swift triangular ship, shaking her head all the way.

Routine maintenance on the base’s fleet took more time than Sula had expected. It wasn’t until the end of the next week before she was fully satisfied she had the Scorpion at peak performance. Dez had spent most of his time flying shuttle missions, both his own and those he owed other pilots. When he returned to Ariel late Saturday afternoon, Sula told him his ship was ready. More than ready himself, he was eager to fly it.

“I’ll get a good night’s sleep and take it out at dawn,” Dez told Sula. “Sundays are always slow here, and if I’m not back until midnight, no one will notice.”

“Now wait just a minute and let’s think this through,” Sula warned. “You might intend to return tomorrow night, but just in case you find something you want to investigate, you’ll need to restock the ship’s lockers with emergency provisions. I won’t clear you with the tower until you do.”

Annoyed he had overlooked such an obvious task,

Dez had to admit Sula’s idea was sound. “Thanks, I’ll do it right now.”

“Good. Now just supposing you do put the ship down to explore, let’s agree right now on how many days I should wait to hear from you before reporting you lost and getting a search underway. As I said before, I’ve spent too much time rebuilding your ship to just write her off as lost.”

“But you wouldn’t miss me?”

Sula blushed deeply, and it was rather flattering with her burgandy hair. “You know I’d miss you, Dez. You’re the most exciting man we’ve had stationed here. It will be just plain dull again if you disappear.”

“I’ve survived too many risky flights to disappear on a cruise to Zareba,” Dez scoffed. That didn’t answer her question though. “Give me a week, and I mean a full seven days. If you haven’t heard from me by next Sunday, report the Scorpion overdue. Don’t cover for me next week, either. I’ll take whatever heat Major Fizz wants to give me when I return.”

“Are you sure that’s wise?”

“It’s the only choice we have, Sula. You can’t report me missing on a flight to Zareba if Fizz believes I’m flying my shuttle missions and spending the nights asleep in my quarters, now, can you?”

“You’ve got a point there.”

“Damn right I have. You did a great job covering for me before, but this time, let’s stick with the truth and it will make my report easier to write when I get back.”

“Sure, I understand.” Sula glanced toward the Scorpion. She knew it would now fly farther and faster than its designers had intended, but she was still worried about Dez. “What about the lieutenant you mentioned? Don’t you think you better notify her of your plans?”

Dez had not forgotten his promise to Blaise. It was just difficult to find the words when his hopes were so high. “Yes, I’ll send her a message before I buy the provisions.” He would make the transmission so brief it would appear to be in code, sending the date, time, and the new frequency of his transponder, along with his hope for success.

“God, I hope this works.”

“It will,” Sula assured him, “or you’ll know it can’t be done, and that’s an important discovery too.”

“Yes, but that’s not the type of discovery I want to make.” Dez started over to the commissary to stock up on provisions, but he hoped he would not be delayed on Zareba long enough to need them.

Rather than wait until dawn, when he knew Sula would be there to see him off, Dez requested permission for a flight shortly after 2:00 a.m. He took off broadcasting the standard transponder code for the Scorpion, but as soon as he was out of the tower’s range, he changed the setting. Confident his ship would be invisible to Tierradyne’s trackers, he pushed it to top speed. The thrill of speed was addictive, and he felt the very same adrenaline rush he had experienced when he had first begun to fly.

It had been several months since he had flown a Scorpion, but this ship, the Sula, he laughed to himself, was all he had remembered and more. Flown by pilots in the Expeditionary Force on reconnaissance missions, it was swift and reliable. He had brought along satellite photographs of Zareba, and maps Aurora had made of the planet that were probably better than the ones Tierradyne owned. He had them memorized, but studied them again in flight.

It was nearly noon when the planet came in sight. Smaller than Earth, it nevertheless had a similar swirling pattern from space. Setting his course for the far side of the planet, which Tierradyne had yet to explore, he came in low to avoid whatever camouflaged radar installations they might have. He did not know if they even maintained a defensive radar network, but a corporation that would hijack the competition’s prototypes could be expected to do so.

Cutting power, he glided like a huge bat over a vast rain forest, keeping a close watch for anything out of the ordinary in the tranquil natural setting. He meant to fly in a spiral path around the planet, surveying what lay below as a real scout with the Expeditionary Force would, but before he had had Zareba within range for more than ten minutes, he felt a sharp tug on the controls. This was the way the difficulty with the Eclipse had begun, and even looking for trouble, he had not expected to have to wage a second battle for his life in the air.

He yanked back on the controls and went to full power, but the Scorpion failed to respond. Adrift, the ship was being sucked down toward the treetops. Having won a similar contest in an Eclipse, Dez continued to fight the unseen force that had him in tow. He gave a series of emergency commands to the navigational computer, but it also lacked the power to override the force that had him plummeting toward the forest.

Dez was traveling so fast, the scenery beneath him was a bright green blur, but he refused to give in to the panic that had nearly cost him his life in the Eclipse. Exquisitely alert, to the danger, instead of fighting, Dez dove into the maelstrom, hoping to burst through to the other side, but he slammed into the treetops before reaching the safety he had sought. He heard the Scorpion ripping apart and knew that Sula would never forgive him. The ship flipped over and, still at full power, plowed a deep furrow through the tops of the gigantic trees.

He cut the engines and held on, knowing the last pilot to fly the Sula had survived a crash. He hoped that made the ship luckier than he. Drawings of the ship’s compact design flashed across his mind. He saw the protective cage enclosing the pilot in minute detail as he hurtled through the trees at a blinding speed, branches ripping at the hull. He leaned over the navigational computer in a desperate effort to streamline his form, hoping to minimize any injury to himself should the cage not hold, but the longer the ravaged Scorpion skated across the treetops, the worse he believed were his chances to survive.

On and on the ship streaked, leaving a fiery trail. Smoke filled the cockpit, until Dez could no longer see the instruments. The Scorpion angled sharply and, hitting a barren patch, flipped upright and dove toward the ground. Ripping though a tangle of thick vines, the keen edge of its triangular shape sliced its way through the new growth. At last, driving deep into the heart of the ancient forest, it caught, and with a convulsive tremor, came to a jarring halt.

Dazed, Dez struggled to get free of his seat belt. That done, he tried to open the hatch, but found it jammed against the trunk of the tree supporting the net of vines. He had not survived a disastrous crash only to die like an animal in a trap, though, and he desperately kicked out the shattered windscreen. Clawing his way through the narrow opening, he grabbed hold of a vine, but sliced loose when the Scorpion careened into the tree, it immediately gave way, leaving him with a handful of air. He tumbled head over heels to the forest floor some twenty feet below.

The breath knocked out of him on impact, Dez lay for a long while staring up at the belly of the Scorpion. There wasn’t much left of the Sula. When he tried to sit up, an excruciating pain that shot through his legs kept him pinned to the ground. Cushioned by a thousand years of mulch, he lay cradled against the damp earth. While the matted leaves might have saved his life, they hadn’t been enough to protect his legs.

Even without prompting from Sula, Dez had replenished the emergency medical supplies, but they were twenty feet above him and might as well have been back on Ariel. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe slowly. He had been taught survival skills at the academy, but even the worst scenario his professor had presented hadn’t prepared him for this. The first rule was always to remain calm. He understood the need to remain rational, but flat on his back in a forest that might be home to all manner of strange predators, Dez couldn’t move easily enough to become hysterical.

Bad luck comes in threes, he remembered Blaise saying, and he had just proved it. Life had also taught him that whenever things got bad, they became progressively worse. A large raindrop splashed into his left eye, and he threw his right arm over his face. The forest was situated in a tropical zone, and rain could be expected every afternoon. He had arrived just in time for the daily showers. In another minute his flight suit was soaked; he was being pelted with raindrops the size of lemons.

When he felt something moving across his stomach, he peered down through the dark curtain of rain. A snake, who he sincerely hoped was on its way somewhere else, was slithering over him. It was a beautiful bright blue, but Dez hadn’t seen the head and couldn’t tell whether it was poisonous. It must be, he complained. Unable to move, he laid there attempting to think friendly thoughts while he hoped the snake had just eaten whatever the local equivalent was of a pig, and would not need to eat again for months.

The rain ended as quickly as it had begun, but now Dez was thoroughly soaked, and in the steamy warmth of the forest floor, he doubted he would ever get dry. He glanced down and found the snake curled against his leg. He still couldn’t see its head, and feared its bite was deadly. Maybe he had landed on the snake’s favorite spot. He didn’t want any argument with a snake—especially not a territorial dispute when he couldn’t move.

He knew he could count on Sula to send out a search party, but that wouldn’t happen for a week, and the thought of lying there with two broken legs, no food, only rainwater to assuage his thirst, and a snake for company, was almost more than he could bear. He did not even want to imagine how things could be worse, because then they surely would be, but he did not think he could hold out like this for a week. He tried to remember stories he had heard of miners trapped miles beneath ground, or survivors of crashes in remote valleys where help hadn’t come for months, and being stranded outdoors for a week didn’t seem like all that great a hardship.

Except that he was hurt, and badly. He tried to raise up slightly, looking for tears in his flight suit or traces of blood, but the pain was too severe to allow him to conduct an inventory. Tierradyne had obviously caused his crash. Would their rescue teams come? He felt in his breast pocket and found Trane Mardag’s card. It would have to be his ticket out of there if reconnaissance from Tierradyne came. Feeling sick to his stomach, Dez feared if he had internal injuries, Tierradyne wouldn’t get there in time.

He raked the leaves, looking for pebbles to mark the days, but couldn’t find any. He could make a little heap of leaves though, and counted the first he collected as day one. He would only have to last six more if Sula came after him on the seventh, but what if the ships she sent crashed into the forest as well? Certain such dark thoughts would destroy his will faster than his broken legs would, he looked down at the sleeping snake.

“Poisonous or not, you need a name, friend. I’ll call you Amigo. If I have a chance to write my memoirs, I’ll be sure to include you.” The vines and what was left of the Scorpion’s hull blocked the light, but it was already growing dim. Dez wasn’t certain if nighttime were approaching or if his injuries were overtaking him. He didn’t want to lose consciousness.

“Remain calm,” he reminded himself, but he felt himself growing progressively weaker.

Soon Dez could not even lift his head to talk to the snake, and his daydreams merged with his memories in an agonizing blur. He tried to accept death with a heroic calm, but knowing it wouldn’t come as he had always imagined, with the spectacular brilliance of a falling star when a spacecraft he’d pushed beyond its limits disintegrated around him, tortured him more painfully than his injuries. The premier pilot in the galaxy was meant to die in the same reckless haze he had lived. Robbed of the chance for that final glory, Dez’s soul ached with the loss of a last wondrous opportunity.

Now his obituary would be merely a recounting of his achievements, and while they were as extraordi-nary as the records he had set and owned, it wouldn’t compare to a poetic description of the fiery destiny he had sought with such defiant speed. Perhaps after the Eclipse disaster, he had outlived his own legend, but he would still be remembered whenever pilots dreamed of making the universe their own.

He slid into unconsciousness for a moment, but feeling the softness of a woman’s hand across his brow, he awakened abruptly, only to find he was still alone. He had known only one woman with the courage to follow him into the hell he found himself in, and for a brief instant, he had dared hope that she had. Tears stung his eyes when he realized he had felt Blaise’s touch only in his mind. That his last thoughts should be of her added to his sorrow for lovers ought to die in each others’ arms rather than all alone.

He struggled to sit up, and with what he feared was his dying breath, he called her name.

Chapter Thirteen

Tuesday afternoon, Blaise landed on Ariel. She left the academy Scorpion her father had let her borrow on the runway, and went looking for Sula. She removed her helmet and carried it tucked under her arm as she approached the maintenance hangar. She wasn’t expecting Sula to actually resemble the colorful woman Dez described, but the instant she saw her, she was astonished by how accurate he had been. She was also amused by the fact that he had failed to mention Sula wore the fewest clothes of any mechanic she had ever seen.

“Ms. Damek?”

Not recognizing the tall, slender pilot walking toward her, Sula had no reason to be cordial. “That all depends on who’s asking.”

“I’m Blaise Quinn and I’m looking for Desmond Sanchez. I was hoping he’d be here working with you.”

Sula’s eyes widened slightly. She wasn’t surprised Blaise was a beauty, but with her hair pulled back in a single braid, she appeared to be far too serious a young woman to indulge in anything so frivolous as romance. Then Sula noticed her helmet. Silver, it matched her flight suit and was decorated with what at first glance appeared to be a delicate gold filigree. But as Sula studied it more closely, she realized that rather than a lacy abstract pattern, the helmet was adorned with a swirling mass of writhing snakes. Her call sign, Medusa, was written in fancy script across the front.

Sula gestured toward the fabulous helmet. “May I see that please?”

Blaise tightened her hold on it. “First tell me where Dez is.”

Disappointed, Sula jammed her hands into her apron pockets, pulling the bib dangerously low on her ample breasts. “He told me about you, but you’re not what I expected.”

“Really? He described you perfectly.”

Flattered that Dez had mentioned her, Sula’s attitude instantly grew more friendly. “He didn’t describe you at all,” she revealed, feeling smugly superior, “but I know he wouldn’t mind you knowing he’s gone to Zareba, because he told me he was going to send you a message. Looks like you weren’t at Fleet Command to receive it, though.”

“Damn! I was hoping to get here before he left. When did he go?”

“Want an ale?” Sula started toward the cooler without waiting for Blaise to answer.

Blaise followed her. “No, thanks, just information.”

Sula had never trusted anyone who wouldn’t drink with her. She poured half a bottle of ale down her throat before telling what little she knew of Dez’s plans. “Now may I see your helmet?”

Blaise handed it to her. “It was a gift from my parents when I graduated from the academy.”

Noting the exquisite detail, Sula turned it over slowly. She traced the outline of one slender viper through the ribbons of snakes. “This is a masterpiece. I bet it cost a fortune.”

“Probably, but it will last for years.” Looking around the hangar, Blaise tried to imagine Dez and Sula laboring there to rebuild his Scorpion. There was a maintenance crew working on a shuttle at the far end. Their laughter floated on the hot desert air. But not sharing their lighthearted mood, Blaise felt increasingly uneasy.

“I can’t wait until Sunday for Dez to return,” she told Sula. “I’m going after him as soon as my Scorpion is refueled.”

Shocked, Sula handed Blaise her helmet. “I don’t think Dez would like that, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind your staying in his quarters until he gets back. Maybe you’d like to go on over there to rest, and have something to eat before you make any plans.”

It had been a long and tiring trip, but Blaise wasn’t even tempted to wait for Dez to show up on his own. “I really don’t care what Dez might want me to do. I made this trip in hopes of finding my brother, and that’s my only concern. He’s been missing since September, and if Dez found him alive, he might need help getting him out safely.”

Sula thought there was a lot more to Blaise’s arrival on Ariel than she had admitted. “Dez is in love with you. Don’t you feel the same about him?”

Startled by Sula’s announcement, Blaised refused to answer her question. “I’ve no idea how you arrived at such a misguided opinion, but you’re wrong. Dez’s career is his first priority, and if I’m even on the list, which I doubt, it’s way down at the bottom. Thanks for the information. I’ve got to be on my way.”

“Medusa is a good name for you,” Sula said, thinking Blaise had the stubborn single-mindedness of an ancient goddess and ought to wear her hair in a hun-dred braids rather than one. “Like I said, you’re not what I expected, but I trust Dez to know what he wants. He’s changed the transponder code on his ship in hopes Tierradyne won’t pick him up on their scanners. Let me give it to you.” Sula walked over to her workbench and wrote the new code on a scrap of paper.

“You might want to change your ship’s code too. You won’t be much help to Dez if you lead” Tierradyne right to him.“

“I’m a little smarter than that.”

Sula saw more than intelligence glowing in Blaise’s amber eyes, and nodded. “Yeah, I can see that you are. Good luck in finding your brother, and the other missing pilot too.”

“Thanks, I know I’m going to need it.” Blaise walked back out on the runway, raised her hand to shade her eyes, and scanned the desolate red landscape. The ‘heavy equipment that cleared the base daily of drifting sand was parked nearby, and she didn’t envy the operators their endless and thankless task. The height of the sand dunes they created along the perimeter made it plain the desert would bury the whole installation in a matter of days should the tough machines break down.

Ariel was even more bleak than she had imagined, and her heart ached for Dez and how depressed he must have felt when he had first arrived. She debated using his quarters to shower and change clothes, then decided to take advantage of whatever facilities the tower provided for transient pilots. Dez’s apartment would undoubtedly be more private and comfortable, but using it would suggest a bond between them that he had broken, and she could not pretend otherwise.

* * *

Blaise also carried detailed maps of Zareba, and like Dez, approached the planet at an angle which brought her in over an unexplored rain forest. Divided by a broad river that curved back on itself in graceful serpentine coils, a vast primeval world stretched for miles in all directions. Following Dez’s ship’s transponder code, she tracked him down easily. It was now late afternoon, and long shadows hid much of what lay below, but there was no mistaking the wild, erratic trail Dez had plowed through the trees for anything other than the desperate crash it must have been.

Terrified for him, Blaise eagerly sought any glimpse of metal, but hidden by the dense foliage, his ship was lost from view. Cutting power, she banked in low, slow circles, spotted a small clearing, and put her Scorpion down without even a hint of trouble. She removed her helmet with shaking hands and set it aside.

Dez was too fine a pilot to misjudge a landing. Fearing he had been shot down, before leaving her ship, she strapped on the laser pistol kept in the emergency equipment. Praying with every beat of her heart that Dez wasn’t dead, she grabbed a bag of medical supplies and started back toward where she thought he would be.

She swiftly found that making her way through the thick brambles blanketing the virgin forest wasn’t going to be easy, and had to return to her ship for the hunting knife she had overlooked. She then began to hack a path through the dense undergrowth. The brambles were an indigenous variety she had never seen, and when cut, oozed a bright orange sap that seemed almost to glow in the soft, shady light.

Tramping over the tangled vines, she kept glancing up, continually searching for the torn foliage that marked Dez’s path. At last a patch of light glimmered ahead. Hurrying her pace, she stumbled and nearly fell. She paused to catch her breath, and then pressed on in a desperate bid to find Dez before nightfall obscured her path more surely than the lush vegetation. With leaves ranging in hue from midnight blue to a bright clear yellow-green, the plants grew in such wild profusion, Blaise would have been trapped without the wickedly sharp knife. Her arm rapidly growing weary, she kept swinging it until at last she broke through into the small clearing where Dez lay.

“Dez?” she called as she rushed toward him, but he gave no sign that he had heard.

She knelt beside him and felt for a pulse in his throat. It took her a moment to find it, but his skin was warm and damp rather than cold and she knew that he was alive. Glancing up, she saw what was left of his Scorpion, and wondered how much longer the narrow vines would hold it cradled in their grasp. Not wanting to risk finding out, she looked around for a safer place for Dez to lie. Disturbed by her presence, the snake uncoiled from its comfortable pose, stretched up over Dez’s thigh, and regarded her with luminous golden eyes.

“My, aren’t you pretty,” Blaise greeted him. “Go on home or I’ll grab your tail, crack you like a whip, and give you a headache that will last for weeks.”

Unimpressed by her threat, the snake moved up and over Dez, then rewound itself in a tight coil next to his right hip.

“Suit yourself, but you may be very sorry,” Blaise warned. Returning her attention to Dez, she slapped his cheeks lightly. “Come on, hero, wake up,” she coaxed. The roughness of his beard stung her palm, but all she received for her efforts was a low moan. She opened the front of his flight suit to search for broken ribs, and ran her hands over his chest. She lay her hand over his heart and took comfort in its steady beat.

Praying his back was not broken, she checked his arms, feeling along the bones with tender care until she was satisfied he had no problems there. After removing his boots, she began a slow exploration of both his legs. In both, the bones were broken just below the knee. There were splints in the medical supplies she had brought which emitted a healing ray that would repair the damaged bones in a matter of days. She looked up at the mangled Scorpion overhead. She knew that if she also used the ones that Dez must have carried, she could double the speed with which his legs healed.

Never content to be left behind, as a child she had often climbed trees as easily as Blair and his friends. But she knew that they would be in worse trouble than they were already in if she climbed up to the Scorpion, and while searching the wreakage dislodged it from its precarious perch. It would definitely be worth the risk, but only if she could be certain the ship would not fall on Dez. Although fabricated of a featherweight alloy, if it fell from that height, it would surely crush him.

“What do you advise, snake? I don’t suppose you’d volunteer to climb the tree and get the splints? No, I thought not. That’s the trouble with snakes. You’re all loners. No sense of community.” Blaise continued to chat with the snake while she slit the legs of Dez’s flight suit. She was grateful the edges of the fractures were clean, rather than sharp, jagged spikes shooting through his skin.

“I’m going to apply the splints I have, then move Dez over to the side of this cozy clearing so he’ll be in no danger should the Scorpion, or I, fall out of the treetops. You’re lucky I don’t need a tourniquet, snake, because you’d be the first thing I grabbed.” Blaise opened the bag of medical supplies and removed the neatly packaged splints. They had an internal power source she activated as soon as she had them strapped to Dez’s legs. Now with his lower limbs immobilized, she felt safe in moving him.

“I realize it’s difficult for you to pull, but you could at least push from your side, blue boy.” Blaise gripped the shoulder seams of Dez’s flight suit and, taking care not to jar him too badly, began to gradually pull him out from under the Scorpion. He was lean, but still weighed over two hundred pounds and she felt every inch of the way all up the muscles of her arms and down her back. She had to pause several times to catch her breath, but at last was satisfied she had him safely out of harm’s way.

Missing Dez’s warmth, the snake again uncoiled and followed him to his new location. “Loyal little fellow, aren’t you?” Blaise asked. “Keep an eye on him for me.” Unable to resist the impulse, she brushed Dez’s lips with a quick kiss, then left him and approached the massive tree. It had a corklike bark and long, delicate leaves reminiscent of ferns, but again it wasn’t any variety she recognized. She grabbed ahold of a dangling vine, but encountered the same difficulty as Dez had, for sliced by the Scorpion, rather than support her weight, it ripped apart and came tumbling down on her.

Frustrated, she kicked it out of the way and tried another, which also gave way and fell around her feet. Needing a secure vine, she went to the opposite side of the tree and found several which remained in place when she yanked on them. Taking a deep breath, she started up the thickest with a steady, hand-over-hand motion. This was another skill she had learned from her brother and his friends long before attending the academy, where rope climbing had been required.

As she recalled, none of the cadets had ever expected to actually have to climb a rope, or vine to save themselves, but here she was, living proof that the instructor who had insisted upon it as part of their survival training had been a whole lot smarter than they. She glanced down frequently, each time hoping Dez might be awake and watching her, but there was no change in his condition. He would recover if he were suffering only from shock and exposure, but if he were in a coma because of massive head injuries, having two good legs again wouldn’t help him.

Frantic with worry, she was breathless by the time she reached the Scorpion, where she discovered that just getting inside would be a challenge. She gave the ship a push, and found it so firmly wedged against the tree’s massive trunk, she doubted it would ever fall. Still, crawling through the shattered windscreen wasn’t easy, and she did not feel in the least bit secure.

She tossed out the bag of medical supplies, then the emergency supplies and rations. Careening off the vine-covered tree, they bounced on the damp leaves where Dez had been just a few minutes earlier. Not wanting to have to make a second trip up the tree, Blaise looked around for anything else that might be useful, and grabbed Dez’s helmet. It was new, and the realization that Blair must have been wearing his old one when he disappeared, brought tears to her eyes.

“This is no time for sentimental nonsense,” she scolded herself. Slipping her arm through the chin strap, she carried the helmet down to the ground. After a quick check on Dez, she gathered up the supplies and carried them over to his side. There was enough time to charge the solar lantern before nightfall, and she placed it where it would catch the most light. Thirsty, she took only a small sip of water from one of the emergency containers, then carried the lid which served as a cup to Dez.

She knew he had to be thirsty, but didn’t want to risk choking him. She raised his head with one hand and held the cup to his lips. “Come on, Dez, try and take a drink.” She wet his lips, but the water just trickled down his chin. “Dez!” she called louder, but he remained unconscious. She sat back and tried to decide what to do. He didn’t seem to be in any pain, so she saw no reason to use any of the powerful drugs in their ships’ supplies to relieve it. He wasn’t feverish, so medication wasn’t needed to fight an infection.

“Have you got any ideas, snake? No, you needn’t apologize, I didn’t expect you to suddenly become helpful.”

Thinking perhaps what Dez needed most were the fluids she couldn’t wake him to swallow, she rummaged through the medical gear, found the first-aid manual, and reviewed the directions for administering fluids intravenously. They weren’t difficult, but just reading the instructions made her sick to her stomach. She had never had the slightest interest in pursuing a career in medicine, which, given her queasiness, appeared to be a wise decision.

Much too warm in her flight suit, she stood and removed it. The shorts and shirt she had on beneath it were much cooler, but she still didn’t feel well enough to slip a needle into one of Dez’s veins. She closed her eyes for a moment and brought a mental picture of the terrain into focus. The river was to the west, and she didn’t think it was too far away. She could make her way there, test the water, and if it was safe to drink, bring back enough to drench Dez. If that didn’t wake him, she would have to try the intra-venous fluids, whether she got sick while she did it or not.

She unfolded the emergency bucket, picked up her knife, and started off toward the river. Again cutting her own trail, she did not have to worry about getting lost, because with every step she took, she created the only path back to the clearing. Still, the river was farther away than she had thought. She could hear the rushing water in the distance and angled toward the sound, but it was almost dark by the time she reached its sandy shore. The water was icy cold and sparkling clear, and her test kit proved it to be potable. Finished with her task, she wished she had brought along the lantern to light her way back to Dez.

In the twilight, she frequently strayed from the narrow path, but the surrounding brambles ripped at her bare thighs, instantly redirecting her step. By the time she reached the clearing, both her shorts and shirt were torn and stained, but her appearance mattered not at all to her. The solar lantern had come on and cast a circle of pale golden light around the injured pilot. Debating the wisdom of what she was about to do, she first took a long drink from the bucket, and then, standing beside Dez, she poured a steady stream down on his face.

At first there was no reaction. Then, with lightning speed, he reached out, grabbed her ankle, and with a forceful yank, pulled her right off her feet. She fell forward but caught herself with her hands before landing across his chest. Her knees bruised, her palms scraped on the twigs sprinkled over the matted leaves, she was nonetheless too pleased that Dez was awake to be angry. Before she could crawl off him, he swatted her bottom with a playful slap.

Hit by the flying bucket and the last splash of water, the snake’s rest had been disturbed one time too many. He slithered over to the lantern and wrapped himself around its base. In as graceful a manner as possible, Blaise regained her balance, stood, and then sat down beside Dez. Resting her elbows on her knees, she held her head in her hands. Shaken, she needed a moment to catch her breath.

“I’m sorry to have resorted to such crude tactics to wake you, but I was getting desperate.”

Dez blinked the water out of his eyes and reached for her hand. Confused, he thought he might still be dreaming, but she felt much too solid to be a hallucination. “I didn’t think I could last a week,” he murmured. His voice was hoarse, and for an instant, he felt himself slipping away again. He had to fight to remain conscious.

“Let me get you something to drink.” Blaise tried to slip away but he refused to let go of her hand. “I’m not going to leave you, Dez, but you need plenty of fluids.”

“No, just you. Stay with me.”

“I’m not going to leave you,” Blaise restated more forcefully. “I have the emergency supplies from your ship right here and now that you’re awake, you’ve got to drink as much water as you can. Now let go of my hand, I’m going to bring you some water.”

Dez closed his eyes. “Snake.”

“Yes, the snake’s still here. He, or she, looks like an Azure Racer to me. They’re constrictors, Dez. They aren’t poisonous.” Blaise’s head was beginning to hurt, and despite being overjoyed at waking Dez, she still felt sick to her stomach. Finding him so badly hurt had caused a terrible fright; she hoped that was the reason behind her nausea. She could have easily come in contact with poisonous plants while hacking her way to him, or the river, but the ones she knew of caused itching or swelling, not nausea unless their berries were eaten.

There were noxious chemicals Tierradyne might have sprayed on the forest to discourage curious tourists, but that was too fiendish a possibility to seriously consider. It was hot and humid; perhaps she was merely suffering from exhaustion, becoming dehydrated herself. “Dez, we’re going to have to take care of ourselves if we want to get out of here alive. Now let go of my hand so I can get us some water.”

This time Dez relaxed his grip, and she quickly fetched the container of water she had opened earlier, as well as the cup. “I don’t feel so well myself,” she finally confessed. She slipped her hand under his head and brought the cup to his lips. This time, he swallowed obediently. When he finished, she took a couple of sips and then stretched out beside him. Once prone, her qeasiness began to subside. “Just let me rest a moment, and then I’ll find us something to eat.”

“I don’t have the strength to chew.”

“Frankly, I don’t either, but there are some protein drinks we could try. I think it’s just the heat. I’m not used to the jungle, or forest, and this is the first minute I’ve had to rest since I arrived.”

Dez reached for her hand again. “I knew you’d come for me.”

“Why, because I’m the only one crazy enough to follow you?”

“No reason,” Dez whispered. “I just knew.”

Blaise wondered how, then thought that if a belief in her had given him hope, she would accept him at his word. “What happened, Dez? Why did you crash?”

Suddenly frightened for her, Dez tightened his grip on her hand. “How did you get through?”

“Get through what?”

Dez moaned softly. “I lost control of the Scorpion. It was just like the Eclipse. Sula is going to kill me.”

“What?” Blaise sat up slightly. “Are you sure, Dez? If you experienced the very same difficulty, then that proves that whoever and whatever is behind it is here.”

Dez ached all over and his thinking was none too clear. “Don’t misunderstand me, I don’t wish that you had crashed too, but didn’t you notice any problems with your ship?”

“No, but I have the Scorpion we flew together, not one I built myself.”

Dez looked up, but he could see only a few stars through the leafy canopy overhead. “You don’t believe me,” he mumbled. “Nobody does.”

“Of course I believe you!”

Before Dez could reply, they heard a low menacing growl, and the sound of limbs creaking and branches shaking as something moved through the treetops overhead. “What’s that?” Blaise asked. “What could it be?”

“I don’t want to know.”

Blaise was still wearing her laser pistol, and Dez’s was in the bag of emergency supplies from his ship. “It doesn’t matter,” she assured him far more calmly than she felt. “If it gets close, I’ll singe its ears and send it on its way.”

“It must not like humans or it would have already eaten me.”

“God, what an awful thought. If I’d arrived and found nothing but your boots, I’d have—”

Dez waited, but when she didn’t finish her sentence, he rubbed her palm with a sensuous caress. “Careful, don’t admit more than you mean to.”

Blaise rolled over on her back. “I won’t. Does it ever cool off here?”

“I don’t know. I passed out before I had a chance to see.”

Another growl, this one with a higher pitch, split the silence surrounding them. “Must be mating season,” Dez offered.

Blaise’s free hand went to the laser pistol. “Sounds like some type of cat. My maps didn’t list wildlife, but every feral cat I’ve ever seen has had big teeth and sharp claws.”

Dez tried to sit up, realized his legs not only hurt but felt stiff, and lied back down. “What did you do to me?”

“I didn’t do anything except save your life. Your legs are broken, but I used two sets of light splints and you ought to be able to walk again in a couple of days. At least, I hope doubling the splints decreases the time needed for your bones to heal.”

“I wanted to dance with you.”

“I’m sure you’ll still be able to dance, Dez.”

“But I want to dance with you now.”

“It’s so hot here I think I’m melting, and you want to dance?”

Dez wanted to do a lot more than dance, but it was a start. Unfortunately, he couldn’t move at the moment, much less dance. Another growl echoed off the trees not ten feet away. It was a deep, threatening sound that sent shivers up Dez’s spine despite the heat.

“Blaise? Ancient hunters used to stake out a goat to attract lions. I’m beginning to feel like one of those poor little goats.”

Blaise pushed herself up into a sitting position. “Hush, just listen.” She pressed the button to arm the laser pistol. At the academy firing range, she had achieved excellent scores, but her hand was shaking so hard she doubted she could hit the gigantic trees surrounding them, let alone anything leaping through the branches. She rose and turned slowly to scan the perimeter of the clearing. She took a deep breath and reminded herself she was the only one present who could save them. She could be afraid when she remembered this in years to come, but not now.

“Whatever they are, we’ve heard two of them,” she reminded Dez, “and it’s more likely they’re stalking each other than us.”

The words were no sooner out of her mouth than a gigantic feline with enormous paws and jaws wide enough to swallow her head came bounding out of the shadows. Jet black with a gold underbelly, it had tremendous speed. With a wild, flying leap, it came at Blaise. She dropped to one knee, took careful aim, and fired a quick blast across the cat’s bright orange nose. Shrieking with pain, the beast twisted in midair, landed just to her side, and streaked off into the safety of the night.

“My God, where did you learn to shoot like that?”

Blaise raised her hand in a plea for silence. She strained to hear, but the second cat, if it was still near, wasn’t making any noise. “I’ve always had excellent eye-hand coordination. So do you. It’s what makes us such terrific pilots.”

“That wasn’t just coordination, it was raw nerve, or perhaps courage is a better word. If you hadn’t been here, that cat, if that’s what that was, would be picking his teeth with one of my ribs by now. You saved my life, Blaise, and I won’t forget it.”

Calmer than she had felt since landing, Blaise set the laser pistol down where he could reach it and began looking through the supplies for the protein drinks she had mentioned. “Save the compliments until we’ve finished this mission, Dez. Congratulating me now is bad luck.”

“What do you mean, ”we‘?“

Finding what she wanted, Blaise sat down where she could cradle Dez’s head in her lap. She poked a straw into one of the drinks and handed it to him. “I should never have let you leave Fleet Command alone. As soon as you were gone I knew it had been a mistake. I went home, convinced my father to let me use a Scorpion, and hoped to reach Ariel before you left. I was two days late, but now that I’ve found you, I intend to see this through. I won’t go home again without Blair.”

“Blair,” Dez repeated softly.

“Or you.”

That was all Dez needed to hear. “Have I only been stranded here two days?”

“It’s Tuesday, so this will be your third night.”

“We’ll have to take turns sleeping,” Dez suggested in an attempt to take charge. “If that cat comes back, I want a chance to shoot it.”

“We’ve invaded its territory and its understandably vexed. We’ve no reason to kill it.”

“How about escaping being on its breakfast menu?”

Blaise savored a sip of the sweetly flavored protein supplement, then began to stroke his hair. It was still damp from her impromptu shower. “As I recall, when a creature dies in the forest, the beasts who survive on carrion appear. What do you suppose they might be here, Dez? Big hairy vultures with wickedly sharp talons and beaks, hideous insects with a fifty-foot wingspan, snakes five times the size of Baby Blue here?” She glanced toward the lantern, and sure enough, the snake was still coiled around it.

“It might get awfully crowded in this little clearing with all manner of ravenous beasts fighting over who gets the tastiest parts of cat carcass. Of course, I can just get up and walk away, but you’d be stuck here trying to referee.”

“What an imagination you have! Fine, you’ve convinced me we’re better off with the cats alive than dead, but you’re forgetting something.”

“Really? What’s that?”

“You promised not to leave me, and I intend to hold you to it.”

Blaise thought that was either a tasteless joke, or he had an exceedingly short memory. “I’m not the one with the penchant for walking out, Dez.”

“Yeah, but I don’t lie, or simply fail to mention something so important it could jeopardize someone else’s career, so I’d say we’re even. Now let’s leave the mess at the academy where it belongs and concentrate on what we’re doing here.”

“That’s fine with me. Do you want the first watch or the second?”

“With all the trouble you took to wake me up, I think I better stay awake awhile. You try and get some sleep.”

Blaise waited until he had finished his protein drink, then gently lifted his head from her lap. There were lightweight blankets in the emergency supplies, and she gave him one to use as a pillow. She unrolled another and lay down on it. She was so tired she fell asleep the instant she closed her eyes, but in her dreams the gigantic black cat leapt at her again and again and each time, it edged closer.

Chapter Fourteen

Dez had boasted about staying awake for the first watch, but without Blaise’s stimulating company, he quickly caught himself dozing off. Determined to remain alert, he reviewed their conversation and wished he had handled several aspects of it differently. The crash haunted him now, for if Blaise had landed without difficulty, it was possible that malfunctioning components within his ship, rather than a mysterious force from without, had caused him to slam into the forest. The experience had been terrifyingly familiar, and perhaps he had leapt to the wrong conclusion as to its cause.

He had been positive the rebuilt Scorpion was sound, and Sula had guaranteed it, but here he was flat on his back with two broken legs, a testament that something had gone dreadfully wrong. They didn’t have the time to make as thorough an investigation of the Scorpion as Aurora’s crash investigators would, but when it was light, he would ask Blaise to discover all she could. She had retrieved the medical and emergency supplies from his ship, so she had been in it once. He hoped asking her to visit it a second time wouldn’t be too great an imposition.

Alone with his thoughts, it was all too easy to become depressed over his situation. He had lived on the edge of danger his whole life, and now, just when he most needed to be in top form, he had been injured in a mishap that had been even more stupid than most accidents. Anger kept him awake for a long while, but when he could no longer fight off sleep, he had to wake Blaise. It was just past 2:00 a.m., and the sky was as black as the cat that had shattered what little peace they had had.

“Blaise?” He had expected her to respond instantly, but he had to call her name several times, and in increasingly urgent tones, to drag her from her dreams.

“Are you all right?” she asked when she finally sat up.

“Hell, no, but it’s your turn at watch.”

Relieved there was no new emergency, Blaise yawned sleepily and rubbed her eyes. “Forgive me, I should have asked earlier if you were in pain. We’ve plenty of drugs if you are.”

Dez considered her offer a long moment, and then decided against it. “I don’t believe I’ve ever felt worse, but anything strong enough to blur the pain will just knock me out again, and I want to stay as alert as I can. I think my pride hurts worse than my legs. To survive a crash and then fall out of a tree is so damn stupid I can hardly stand it. If I live long enough to write a report about this, I’m not going to mention it.”

“Beating yourself up like that isn’t going to help us, Dez. Go to sleep, and we’ll make some plans in the morning.”

Her advice was sensible, but Dez still felt at a terrible disadvantage. “I wasn’t very gracious earlier. It doesn’t matter why you came, you’ve saved my life twice since you’ve been here and—”

Blaise laid her fingertips across his mouth. “Go to sleep. We needn’t keep score, and neither of us owes the other anything.”

Dez covered her hand with his and kissed her palm, but she quickly pulled her hand away and he knew he had simply embarrassed rather than pleased her. He closed his eyes, and the next time he opened them, the clearing was filled with bright morning light. Blaise was seated beside him, the laser pistol in her lap, and a look of such intense concentration on her face he wondered what problem she was attempting to solve.

“Good morning,” he murmured. “Would you help me sit up, please? I feel like I’m beginning to grow to this spot.”

“Are you sure you feel up to it?”

“No, but I’m going to do it anyway.”

Blaise laid the pistol aside, stood, and moved behind him. Bending down, she slipped her hands under his arms and rolled him into a sitting position. She waited a moment as he rested his back against her legs. “There, can you manage on your own for a minute? I’ll make a backrest out of the supply bags.”

Dez felt dizzy and weak, and needed to take several deep breaths before he could compose a coherent reply. His whole body had been badly bruised in the fall. “A backrest is a good idea. You ought to set up a tent too. It rains everyday here, or at least I think it does, and a tent would help us escape that misery.”

Blaise took a cautious step backwards, then waited until she was certain Dez wouldn’t fall over before she went to get the supply bags she had offered. It took a bit of arranging, but after several tries, with his help they formed a comfortable support for his back. Blaise brushed a stray curl out of her eyes. “Rain sounds rather refreshing.”

“It would be if it were cool, but it’s warm. Hey, where did you get the cold water you poured on me?”

“The river. After breakfast, I’ll bring some more.”

“It can wait. I’ve got something else I’d like you to do.”

Expecting a request she would have to refuse, Blaise stared at him a bit too intently. His beard grew low on his cheeks, providing a handsome accent rather than diminishing his looks, and suddenly embarrassed by her own disheveled appearance, she tugged on her tattered shirt. “Just what did you have in mind?”

The suspiciousness of her glance spoke volumes, but Dez had no provocative intentions. “I want you to check out the systems on my Scorpion. It would be a bizarre coincidence if a failure of the navigational computer caused the crash rather than interference by Tierradyne, but I want to rule out that possibility before we storm their gates. I hate to ask you to crawl through the wreckage, but we need the information too urgently to wait until I can do it.”

Blaise looked up at the Scorpion. Her arms ached, but it could have been due to the effort it had taken to slash her way through the forest rather than climbing the vines. Whatever the cause, she didn’t relish the thought of another strenuous climb. “There are protein bars, as well as more protein drinks. Which would you like?”

Dez had been so preoccupied with his own pain, he had failed to notice the long scratches on Blaise’s arms and legs before now. Her clothes were ripped, and long wisps of hair pulled from what he was certain had once been a neat braid. “I’m sorry I knocked you down last night. It looks like you’ve had a tough time too.”

Blaise shrugged. After several hours’ sleep, she felt far better than she looked. She glanced down at her legs and decided she ought to bathe before applying the salve to her cuts as she should have last night. “Conditions aren’t ideal here, I’ll grant you that, but I’d much rather be stranded here than in Ariel’s red desert. Had you crashed there, you would have been as crisp as a mummy before I arrived.”

“You’re forgetting I’d not have fallen from a tree there. I’d probably be sitting under a tent, sipping protein punches.”

“Yeah, I just bet you would.” Blaise tried to sort through their supplies without disturbing the backrest they had just created, but she was annoyed with herself for not retrieving their breakfast first. She removed four drinks and a bag of bars and placed them at his side. “Why don’t you eat first? I want to go down to the river and bathe.”

“Why don’t you wait until after you climb the tree?”

He had a point, but Blaise could already feel the deliriously cool water surrounding her. “We don’t have all that much to do, Dez. I could bathe twice without seriously disrupting our schedule.”

Dez frowned unhappily. “I’d rather not eat alone.”

Torn between the desire to get away and clean up, and the need to keep an injured man company, Blaise made what she hoped was the wisest choice and sat down beside him. She consoled herself with the fact that there was plenty of water to drink, so an immediate trip to the river wasn’t imperative. She ripped the wrapper from one of the bars and took a bite. Filled with chopped nuts, it was quite good. “Try one of these,” she recommended. “It tastes like real food.”

Dez took her advice and had to agree. “You were so deep in thought when I awoke. Do we have a problem you haven’t mentioned?”

“A problem other than the obvious ones, you mean?”

“Exactly.” While delicious, Dez wondered why the protein bars were so damn chewy he would be exhausted before he finished one. “Don’t try and protect me. Just because I can’t move doesn’t mean I can’t think.”

Blaise nodded. “Have you noticed that there aren’t any birds in this forest? I didn’t note their absence yesterday, but this morning, as I watched the dawn, the eerie silence was chilling. Perhaps there never were any birds here on Zareba, but it seems the perfect habitat, doesn’t it?”

At first Blaise’s observation seemed trivial, but then Dez’s imagination caught hold. “You’re right. The silence is odd. Birds present a hazard to navigation though, don’t they? Suppose you were running some exotic experiments here, and didn’t want to have to deal with interference from flocks of birds?”

“I’d poison them,” Blaise volunteered. She paused in midbite and even discounting the soreness in her muscles from exertion, she still didn’t feel well. “Perhaps you’re too battered to notice, but do you feel slightly nauseated too?”

“More than slightly,” Dez admitted. He scanned the clearing, looking for any telltale sign it might have been treated with chemicals to decimate the avian population. “Hey, where’s my snake?”

Blaise immediately glanced toward the lantern, but the pretty blue snake was gone. “I guess he went out for a stroll. Since their diets aren’t similar, I doubt the same poison that would kill birds would affect a snake. Let’s just hope we can tolerate being sick to our stomachs a few more days, until we can get out of here.”

“The rain has probably diluted whatever toxin they used, if they used one. For all we know, Zareba didn’t have any birds to begin with.”

“True, but I like the poison theory.”

“Damn, I was hoping it was me you liked, not just my wild ideas.”

“Dez?”

“Hmm?”

“Please don’t say things like that. We’re in a terrible mess here and I’m not in any mood for teasing innuendos.” She popped the last of the protein bar in her mouth and rose to her feet. “I’ll take one of the laser pistols and leave the other here with you. I won’t be gone long. It took me quite a while to cut a path through the underbrush yesterday, but with a clear route to follow, I should be back in half an hour or so, and I’ll bring more water.”

Dez was tempted to ask her to help him while he relieved himself, then decided he could dig a convenient hole, aim for it, and cover it when he finished. It would be a small accomplishment, but he was inordinately proud to be able to manage the task on his own. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep myself entertained.”

“All we have to read is the first-aid manual. When we get back, I’m going to suggest they include some quality literature in the emergency supplies.”

“Damn good idea, Blaise. Most pilots could stand to improve their minds, me included. Can you carry two buckets of water? Then we’d have one to drink, and I could wash up with the other.”

“I’ll give it a try.” Blaise moved behind him to unpack the other collapsible bucket. Carrying both of them and the pistol, she started off for the river. Now that she had noticed how quiet the forest was, her own breathing seemed awfully loud. Attempting to keep a close watch for predators, she surveyed the path with an anxious glance, but nothing even remotely resembling a lifeform came into view.

Once she reached the river, she made a hurried search of the bank, but again finding no evidence of either man or beast, she peeled off her boots and clothes. She washed her clothes as best she could without soap and lay them over the bushes to dry. She then combed out her hair with her fingers, and waded into the river. The current was swift, but the riverbed angled down at a gradual slope. After going out several yards, she was still no deeper than her knees. Deciding that was far enough, she scrubbed herself clean, but found she had to go deeper to wash her hair.

Bending over, she was caught off balance when she stepped on a slippery stone. In an instant, she fell, and the current swept her out into the river where her only hope was to swim or drown. It was instinct rather than training which kept her from panicking as the frigid waters chilled her clear through. She swam with the river, rather than wearing herself out fighting the swift current. She remembered the comforting warmth of the Paraiso Sea and shut out the fear that would have shortened her strokes and tangled her legs in ineffectual kicks.

She chose an outcropping of rocks in the distance, and aimed for it with a steely determination that brought her closer to the shallow shore. With a final surge, she reached the rocks, grabbed hold, and held on, still buffeted by the strong current, but safe at last.

Certain Blaise should have returned long before, Dez checked his watch and grew increasingly impatient. He had no distractions other than the first-aid manual and listening for giant cats. The minutes passed much too slowly for a man used to the reckless speed of flight. There was no breeze, and he was hot and sweaty, stuck where he sat like some exotic butterfly pinned in a collector’s display case.

He did not want to believe Blaise would simply go off and leave him, but the longer he spent on his own, the more likely the prospect seemed. He had asked her to leave the past where it belonged, but he knew she still felt he had deserted her, and perhaps she had decided to repay him in kind. They had too damn many other problems at present to waste their energies in vendettas, but he felt increasingly victimized.

He grabbed a protein drink and sipped it slowly, but he was more bored than hungry and didn’t really enjoy it. His attention kept straying to the Scorpion, and he wondered if Blaise had been so offended by his request she check out his ship that she had decided to spend the day down by the river rather than accommodate him. That was such a childish prank, he became thoroughly disgusted with her. By the time she finally appeared, he had been alone for more than two hours and let her know exactly how he felt about her tardy return.

“I realize I’m not the most amusing company right now, but if staying away was your idea of punishing me for refusing to keep seeing you at the academy, it wasn’t just stupid, it was cruel.”

Blaise set the two buckets of water down beside him, then stretched out on her blanket. “I haven’t the strength to fight with you,” she murmured. “I’m taking a nap, and we can talk later.”

“A nap? But we’ve only been awake a couple of hours.” Then Dez remembered she had been up since 2:00 a.m. “All right, I guess you’ve been up a lot longer. Blaise?”

When she didn’t respond, he tried to reach out and touch her, but she was too far away. That she could have fallen asleep so quickly frightened him. He was alot bigger than she was, so if the forest had been sprayed with poison, it would affect her more strongly and quickly than him. What if he had led her, not to Blair, but to her own death?

He leaned over again, and this time caught the edge of her blanket. Using what little strength he still possessed, he slowly pulled her closer. He had to stop and rest frequently, but managed to finally bring her within reach. He ran his hand up her stardusted leg, and when just touching her filled him with hope, he couldn’t bear to draw away.

He hadn’t moved by the time the rain began to pelt them with huge, hot drops, but he was enormously relieved when the shower woke Blaise. She sat up and yawned, then apologized for not having set up the tent earlier. “It’s all right,” he assured her, “saves me the effort of washing myself clean.”

The tent in the emergency gear was as expertly designed as all of Aurora’s equipment, and Blaise had it deployed in a matter of minutes. She then sat down beside Dez and, peering out the open flap, watched the rain fall in great sputtering splashes. “I’m sorry I didn’t feel up to running the tests on the Scorpion earlier. I’ll do it as soon as the rain stops.”

She had just caught her hair at her nape rather than braided it that morning and he wound his fingers in the long, silky strands. He had been so angry with her for leaving him alone, but was embarrassed now for having yelled at her as soon as she had come back. Maybe she had just needed some time to herself, and hadn’t been angry with him at all.

“I’m the one who ought to apologize. I’m not used to being an invalid, and it’s frustrating to have to depend on you for what I’d normally be able to han-die myself. I’m not going anywhere anytime soon, so there’s no reason to rush the check of the Scorpion. It can wait.”

Blaise turned toward him. She hadn’t felt well enough to be insulted when he had shouted at her, and to find he had turned contrite on his own was touching. Because it would only alarm him rather than serve a useful purpose, she had no intention of relating her mishap at the river, but she was still shaken from the ordeal. Bad luck plagued them so persistently she could not help but wonder how long they could survive in that hostile place.

“I’m not sure I’m strong enough to climb up the vines again, but I’ll give it a try. I’m as curious as you are about your crash. I know you’d changed your ship’s code, but I didn’t change mine in hopes Tier-radyne would be reluctant to fire on one of Aurora’s ships. After all, we’re supposedly as welcome here as they would be on one of our bases. Maybe they mistook you for an independent scout who’d not be missed.”

Enclosed in the cozy tent, Dez would much rather have kissed her than continued to speculate about his crash, but she had given him clear warning to keep his distance and he reluctantly forced away his amorous thoughts. “You were wrong about bad things coming in threes,” he teased. “We must be up to five or six by now.”

Blaise nodded in agreement, but still didn’t reveal her latest misadventure. His life had already been on a downward spiral when they had met; once involved with him, the splendid course of her life had nosedived as well. “I’ve never been afraid of death,” she assured him. “I’m convinced our spirits are immortal, and if we can’t survive the challenges of this life, then I know we’ll still be stronger in the next.”

Dez’s expression filled with sorrow. “Don’t,” he begged. “I want you with me in this life; the next isn’t guaranteed.”

“Nothing in life is,” Blaise told him. “Look. It’s stopped raining. I’ll try and get up that blasted tree again, and see what I can find.”

“No, wait. If you don’t feel up to it, don’t even try. If you fell—”

“Chances are I won’t be able to get off the ground, so you needn’t worry about me falling.”

She started to leave, but Dez caught the hem of her shorts. “Wait, take the tent down, will you please? Then I can watch you.”

“I doubt there will be much to see, but it’s no trouble.” She rolled the tent off its frame and lay it aside. “There, now you have a clear view, but please don’t get all excited about me.” She felt much better after her nap, and once she found the vine she had used the previous day, she pulled herself up to the Scorpion with only minimal discomfort. She waved down at Dez, then climbed through the shattered windscreen.

She activated the computer and gave it the standard command to survey its own systems. After reporting extensive damage to the hull and landing gear, it showed the function of the engines and intricate electronic gear to still be at optimum levels. She ran the tests a second time, and then a third, but the results were the same. She sat back, closed her eyes, and rested a bit, then shut down the computer. Before returning to the ground, she examined the tree more closely and, finding an interesting piece of evidence, slipped it into her pocket.

“We’re not eating nearly enough,” she reminded Dez when she returned to their camp, and handed him another protein bar. “Drink some more water too.”

“I can do without the refreshments. Just tell me what you found. Sula replaced all the electronic components with brand-new parts, so if any of them failed, it was the manufacturer’s fault, not hers.”

Blaise unwrapped a protein bar and took a bite, washing it down with a long drink of water. “You can see from here that the hull has been pleated like a fan, but if we could somehow get your ship out of that tree, it would still fly. All the electronic systems are still operable, as are the engines. It wasn’t an internal problem that caused your crash.”

A wave of relief washed over Dez and brought a smile to his face, but it was fleeting. “Colonel Andrus would consider the fact the ship is sound additional proof of pilot error, but I didn’t just fly it into the trees.”

“Of course you didn’t. One thing troubles me, though.”

“Dare I ask what?”

“If Tierradyne caused your crash, for whatever reason, perhaps simply to discourage visits to Zareba, why haven’t they sent anyone to the site to investigate?”

“That’s an extremely good question, but as you say, perhaps they didn’t recognize my ship as one of Aurora’s and simply don’t care. Or, if the woods have been laced with a poisonous substance, it might be too dangerous.”

“Their team could wear protective suits.”

“Yes, that’s true.” Discouraged, Dez leaned against his makeshift backrest. As they consumed the rations, it was going to become increasingly uncomfortable. He hoped his legs would have healed in another day or two.

Blaise pulled a clump of fibers ripped from the vines from her pocket and dropped it into his hand. “What does this look like to you?”

Dez pressed his thumbs in the center and straightened the sides of the bowl-shaped object. “It’s a bird’s nest. Look, here’s a tiny feather.”

“Ships that crash mysteriously, birds that vanish, God only knows what we’re missing since we’re not natives of Zareba, but something strange is definitely going on here, Dez.”

Her support meant more to him than he could admit. “Since our first conversation in the rainbow garden, you’ve believed in me. Why?”

A sly smile played over Blaise’s lips. “I trusted my instincts where you were concerned, perhaps a little too completely.”

Dez couldn’t argue with that last opinion. “Yeah, I trusted my instincts about you too, and they weren’t wrong. It was the circumstances that were.”

Finished with her snack, Blaise stood and pressed her hands into the small of her back. Sleeping on the ground was no more comfortable than any of the other things she had been forced to do since arriving there, and she tried to massage away the soreness. “I keep thinking about Blair,” she confided softly. “No matter where my thinking begins, it always comes back to him. This disaster just keeps growing and growing, sucking in more people until it’s like a black hole whose pull is so strong none of us can escape. I can’t see any end to it, Dez. That’s what truly terrifies me.”

Unable to stand and hold her in his arms, Dez tried to coax her back down by his side. He patted the ground next to him. “Come back here.”

Blaise glanced down at him and smiled, then shook her head. “No, I’m going to take the laser pistol and explore a bit. I cut my own path yesterday, but I want to see if I can’t find some animal trails. The cat that paid us a visit didn’t seem to be affected by whatever exterminated the birds. Maybe there are other animals around.”

“Blaise, really, this is no time to conduct a zoological survey.”

Filled with apprehension and guilt, Blaise couldn’t manage anything else. “Please,” she whispered, “let me go.”

Her plea was so poignant, Dez couldn’t bring himself to argue. Instead, he thumbed through the first-aid manual and studied the directions for the light splints. It made no mention of increasing the speed of healing by doubling the number, but it seemed as logical a consequence to him as it did to Blaise. He had now worn the splints for a day, which he knew wasn’t enough time to heal his legs completely but he hoped the bones were knitting with exceptional speed. He had been in superb condition before the crash, which should help. Knowing his body required energy to heal, he ate another of the crunchy protein bars, sipped another nutritious drink, and drank more water. Bored, he lay back, closed his eyes, and hoped this time Blaise wouldn’t stay away so long.

Scouring the perimeter of the clearing, Blaise did indeed find a narrow trail worn through the underbrush. She followed it toward the river, then took a branch to the right which led to a gently sloping hillside. Not wanting to visit the black cat’s lair if he lived nearby, she retraced her steps and took the next fork to the left, which led into an even more dense and dark section of forest. The overhanging boughs were twisted here, and to a young woman with a lively imagination, resembled clawed fingers all too closely.

Feeling as though she were trapped in an evil maze, she turned around and hurried back to the main path. When she walked into camp, Dez was sound asleep, and she was filled with remorse for leaving him. That was her problem, she knew. No matter what she did, she ended up crushed beneath a burden of guilt.

She used some of the river water to rinse off her arms and legs, and, trying not to wake Dez, carefully unpacked the salve she had meant to use earlier. She rubbed it into the long scratches on her arms and legs, then still too anxious to sit, slowly strolled the perimeter of the clearing. The afternoon rain had left the forest smelling clean and fresh, but no amount of water would absolve her of her need to undo the tragedies she had caused.

Dez, and Blair, and even Koby Burne, whom she’d never met, she could hear them all crying out to her. Too restless to attend her parents’ party, she had been tending the exquisite plants in the rainbow garden when Dez had happened by. The delicious attraction between them had pulled both their lives off-center. If only she had not been so fascinated by his tale of the Eclipse, she might have introduced herself as not merely a cadet, but as Edric Quinn’s daughter.

Dez would have continued on his way and she would have remained in the garden. They would not have shared a forbidden love, she would never have flown in the Eclipse, and would not have given Blair the secret codes. Rather than on Zareba, both Dez and she would still be at the academy. They might have studied each other all year with wistful glances, their hunger for each other never sated, but that would have been a small price to pay for her brother’s life.

When Dez awoke, he called her name and she hurriedly brushed away her tears before replying, but there was no way to lift the veil of sorrow from her heart and it remained as dark as the coming night.

Chapter Fifteen

As Blaise walked toward Dez, her stride was the remarkably smooth, graceful motion he recalled, but she had once had a boundless energy which infused all her actions with a sense of joy. The happiness she had radiated with every step was gone now, replaced by a sorrow so profound, just watching her brought a lump to his throat. He reached out his hand and coaxed her down beside him.

“I remember when we first met,” Dez murmured softly. “I was so deeply depressed I didn’t think I’d ever feel good enough to smile again, let alone laugh. You raised my spirits in a matter of hours. I wish I could promise you that this is as bad as things will ever get, but life has a way of running counter to our hopes so consistently, I’m afraid to make that vow. This is only Wednesday, and while I’m confident Sula will send a search party if we’re not back by Sunday, I hate to doom you to such a wretched wait.”

“Will you make up your mind? First you insist I promise not to leave you, and then you try to send me away?”

Dez laced his fingers in hers. Her skin felt so much like his own that it was difficult to tell where his flesh came to an end and hers began. “No, I’m not trying to send you away. I’m just apologizing for not being able to carry out the investigation I’d intended.”

Reluctantly, Blaise left her hand resting in his, but she was tormented by memories of the languid, sundrenched afternoons he had brought to a stunning end with a furious fit of temper when he had found her among his cadets. Now each of his smiles made her wonder how long his conciliatory mood would last. Rather than feel content, as she had once been with him, she was off-balance and wary.

She forced her mind away from the painful past, and to the equally wretched present. “You’ve only worn the splints a day. Perhaps by this time tomorrow you’ll be able to walk again. What are we going to do then? I say since we’re here, we ought to count this as no more than an untimely delay, and continue our mission.”

Dez adjusted his position slightly and tried to judge whether or not the resulting pain in his legs was less severe. He thought it was, then feared his impression might be wishful thinking. He longed to tell her he would soon be fit, but he still ached all over. Considering false hopes no better than lies, he said nothing at all about his condition.

“I think we better prepare half a dozen plans, just in case something goes wrong with the first. All I’d hoped to do was conduct a surveillance to find sufficient evidence to convince Aurora to launch an investigation of their own. I didn’t get far enough along in my observations to prove anything, though, and I don’t want us to run into another dead end.”

Blaise looked surprised by his summation. “The fact that you crashed proves a great deal, Dez. It might prove that Tierradyne will stop at nothing to protect their operations here. You told me at Fleet Command that if you got caught, you’d ask for Trane Mardag and say you’d come to Zareba to accept his job offer. We’ll run the risk of not being believed, but I can’t think of another way to look at their operation from the inside.“

Stunned by her proposal, Dez rejected it immediately. “Oh no, absolutely not. I had no idea you’d be here with me when I suggested that. I don’t want you anywhere near Trane Mardag.”

Blaise looked away. She had now spent so much time in the clearing, she could have sketched the shape of each tree, shrub, and dangling vine from memory. The rain forest provided verdant scenery, but not the tranquil mood she had come to expect from so splendid a natural setting. “I realize we became lovers with unseemly haste, but that’s not the way I’ve ever behaved with anyone else.” Then she remembered Jourdan Curry and gasped slightly. “I didn’t even tell Jourdan where I was going,” she murmured.

Dez didn’t know which was worse, that she thought he was concerned she would sleep with Trane, or that she had spoken of Jourdan as though the young man had some right to know where she was. She was staring off into the trees, rather than facing him as she usually did when they talked. He covered her hand with both of his.

“I know Jourdan Curry. Tell me about him.”

Unwilling to divulge the intimate details of her past, Blaise shrugged. “He was a senior at the academy when I was a freshman. We spent a lot of time together, but I hadn’t seen him between his graduation and the day he came back to recruit for the testing branch.”

Certain there was much more to her story, Dez pressed her. “Did you and he visit La Ultima often?”

She associated the island paradise solely with Dez now, and refused to force her memories past those glorious days with him. “That was a long time ago, Dez.”

He had not even known she was alive three years ago, and yet his heart lurched at the thought of her dipping beneath the warm waves with another man. It sickened him to think they would have done far more than merely cavort in the surf. He barely knew Jour-dan, and had been surprised to have him turn up in the academy tower the night Blair disappeared, but he could not stand the thought that he had been with Blaise. Jealousy wasn’t an emotion that had ever troubled him, yet where Blaise was concerned, he couldn’t fight it off. He wondered if Jourdan had been her first lover, then realized in the next instant that he didn’t want to know.

“Yes, it was,” Dez finally replied. “So why should you have let him know you were coming after me?”

Blaise feared there was no way to describe the wretched days after Blair had been lost, when Jourdan had been so wonderfully kind and attentive to her, without inadvertently making Dez feel she was criticizing him. He may have had no choice about leaving, but she couldn’t predict how he would have behaved if he’d stayed, either. She swallowed hard, then reached for a container of water with her free hand and took a drink.

“He’s been a devoted friend and he deserves to know.”

“But you forgot to tell him you’d hoped to come to Zareba with me?”

Blaise knew such an omission sounded absurd. “Yes, completely.”

Dez tried not to gloat, but a man she couldn’t remember from one day to the next didn’t sound like much competition. “I always liked Jourdan,” he added generously. “He’s friendly and outgoing. That’s the perfect personality for a recruiter.”

Curious as to his reasoning, Blaise regarded him with a level gaze. “But not for a test pilot?”

“He’s competent.”

“That’s not the only requirement though, is it?”

“No, but it’s difficult to strike the appropriate balance between competence and daring that makes the best test pilots unique.”

“You’re describing yourself, of course.”

Dez responded with a lazy grin. “Yes. I hold speed records that will stand for decades. Unfortunately, I’ve damn little else at present.”

Understanding his point, Blaise agreed. “Yes, but those records are why Trane Mardag wants you to work for Tierradyne, and we’re going to use them to our advantage.”

Now they were right back where he had gotten sidetracked into a discussion of Jourdan Curry. “I meant what I said. I won’t provide Trane with an opportunity to meet you. It’s him I’m worried about, not that you might have a weakness for him. Our blue snake has a more inviting personality than he has, and I don’t want him to get any idea about recruiting you too.”

Blaise knew she should consider his attempt to protect her endearing, but she was merely annoyed. “Why not? The truth makes a sensational cover story. We met at the academy, defied the rules meant to keep us apart, and are sick of pretending we’re no more than a one-time instructor and cadet. People make all manner of ridiculous decisions in the name of love. Why shouldn’t we leave Aurora, if Tierradyne will give us the chance to be together, Aurora forbid?”

“That’s an extremely imaginative version of the truth, Blaise.”

That denial stung as sharply as his original rejection had, and Blaise withdrew her hand from his and stood. She brushed off the seat of her shorts and crossed her arms over her chest. “Fine, you make up your own version. I’m going to make another trip to the river and replenish our water supply before it gets dark.”

Dez could see he had insulted her, and that upset him. “We’ve got plenty of water. Stay here and argue with me.”

“What’s the point? Until your legs heal, I could walk out on you, fly to the Tierradyne headquarters, and tell them any tall tale I choose. You ought to be grateful I’m not going any farther than the river, and stop complaining.” She refilled the emergency containers from the bucket they had used for drinking, then carried it away.

Dez grabbed a handful of leaves and hurled them in the air. He tried to move his legs, hoping they would respond with their former ease, but a stinging pain shot all the way from his hips to his ankles. He was positive the light splints were operating, because he could see their eerie glow even in the daylight, but they weren’t working nearly quickly enough to suit him.

A low growl in the distance made him reach for the laser pistol, and when he found two laying side by side he was horrified Blaise had forgotten to take hers. Late afternoon, the big cats were starting to prowl. It was the worst possible time for Blaise to be unarmed. He sat cradling the laser pistol in his arms and praying she would make it back to camp safely.

Leaning forward, he strained to hear the next growl and dreaded the shriek he feared would follow. He knew Blaise was smart enough to lead the beast back to him so he could shoot it, but he also knew she had the courage to lure the cat away to protect him. That he couldn’t predict which option she would choose was maddening.

“Bring him to me!” he yelled, but he didn’t hear her running toward him. If she stayed away another two hours like she had that morning, he would lose his mind. “Blaise!”

Blaise appeared almost immediately, but her bucket was still empty. “What’s wrong? The way you were yelling I was afraid a tree had fallen on you.” She leaned down to pick up the second laser pistol and waited for him to respond.

“I heard the cats.” Thinking the threat sounded trivial when stated in such innocuous terms, he quickly renamed them. “The panthers are on the prowl again.”

“I heard them too, that’s why I came back for the laser. Next time remind me to take it with me if I forget.”

Dez stared up at her and quickly decided her defiant attitude didn’t match her unkempt appearance. She might want him to believe she was ready to take on half a dozen black panthers, but she looked dead tired. He took care to soften his tone. “Don’t go back to the river. It’s too dangerous now.”

Blaise felt trapped in the small clearing and didn’t want to agree, but Dez looked truly concerned about her safety. Immobile, he was at her mercy, and she hated to defy him over a bucket of water when they had a much more serious argument going on. She put down the pistol and the emergency pail.

“You’re right. Those beasts must be nocturnal. They probably visit the river at dusk to drink, and would be no more pleased by my company than I would be by theirs.”

She straightened her shoulders and again rubbed the small of her back. “I wish there were some fruit trees nearby. Anything fresh and edible would be a welcome treat.”

“We can tough it out,” Dez assured her, knowing he was much better off with her there even if he wasn’t any help to her. “Let’s give my legs another day, and if I still can’t walk, I’ll crawl to your ship and we’ll fly out of here. I just hope it isn’t too far away.”

“No, it isn’t, and I cleared a path. But you won’t have to crawl. Those splints are working; I’m sure of it.”

Dez forced a smile, but he was the one with the broken legs and he didn’t share her confidence. “At least I didn’t break my neck,” he joked.

Blaise frowned slightly and then knelt beside him. “Maybe we’re making a big mistake here.”

Dez could think of more mistakes than he cared to count, but didn’t volunteer a list. “About what?”

“If we truly came to Zareba looking for employment, why haven’t we called in our position and requested Trane Mardag’s help? What are we doing staying out here like a couple of children lost in the woods?”

Dez had no ready reply. He had always known Blaise was bright, but she continually surprised him with her insight. “That’s a damn good question, but I haven’t agreed to your plan, so an excuse isn’t really needed.”

“It was your plan, Dez, not mine. The fact that you’ve brought me along should only allay Trane’s suspicions, if he has any.”

Dez clenched his fists and wished he was strong enough to make love to her until she agreed with everything he said. Deciding that was another fanciful bit of wishful thinking, he smiled to himself. “I ac-cused Mari of being relentless, but she’s indifferent compared to you.”

Blaise recalled the pretty redhead vividly. “Ah, are you finally going to admit there was something going on between you two? She mentioned your dinosaur tattoo, by the way, so I already knew there was.”

For some reason, Dez wasn’t even tempted to laugh at Blaise’s coolly voiced comment. Her jealousy was flattering, but he didn’t want her to believe she truly had a cause. “Just because she saw me without my shirt doesn’t mean anything, Blaise. I told you the truth about Mari. Before I met you it would have been a different story, because back then I seldom turned a woman down, but I’ve changed. I can’t treat sex like aerobic exercise anymore.”

Dez watched a decidedly skeptical glint fill her eyes and hurriedly continued. “That’s why I was so angry to find you in my class. You’d shown me something I didn’t believe even existed, and I couldn’t bear to lose you. I don’t even like to think of that time.”

“Neither do I,” Blaise assured him. “It makes me feel sick.”

She looked so thoroughly disgusted, Dez didn’t know what to say. He felt as though he ought to apologize, but he hadn’t been the one to orchestrate what he still considered a cruel deception. “How did we get sucked back into this same argument? I don’t want to examine every nuance of what we did and said as though we’re reenacting some historic battle, when the disastrous outcome would always be the same.”

Blaise traced a lazy circle in the dirt and shook her head sadly. “No, it wouldn’t. Had you not shut me out of your life, I’d never have given Blair the codes. He convinced me you’d been careless with the security, and if we got caught looking at the Eclipse, you’d get the blame you deserved. I felt more loyalty to Blair than I did to you that night, and made the wrong choice. We’ve all paid for my mistake, and dearly.”

This time she was close enough for Dez to pull her into his arms, but afraid he would frighten her away, he moved very slowly to catch her wrist. Her bones were so delicate he could have snapped them easily, but he pulled her near with just a gentle tug. “Come here,” he whispered, and she resisted only an instant before moving close and laying her head on his shoulder. She began to cry then, deep, wracking sobs that tore his heart in two.

“I was the one who made the mistake, Blaise. How could I have ever thought I could live without you?”

His touch was very light as he stroked her hair and rubbed her back, but Blaise couldn’t be consoled. “I’m so afraid it’s too late to save Blair,” she insisted darkly.

Dez was only dimly aware of the panthers’ deep growls. They were circling the clearing, but the danger they presented seemed very slight compared to mending Blaise’s broken heart. Earth and stars, dark shadow and brilliant light, they had been an incomparable team, and he longed to restore that magical compatibility. Initially, the price had been his career. Now Blaise insisted they boldly present themselves to Trane Mardag, and the price of being together might very well be their lives.

As hopelessly confused as she, he held her as she continued to weep. She had once asked him to agree that no matter what happened, neither would blame the other. He had not even imagined how difficult that promise would be to keep. He tried to shut out the tragedy that lay behind them, but try as he might, the future refused to come clear in his mind. He feared tragedy was all they would ever know.

“At Fleet Command you complained that I’d told you about myself without revealing anything,” he whispered. “My father was killed when I was six. An investigation found the shuttle he was assigned to pilot had an undiscovered fuel leak. It blew apart on ignition. My mother was devastated. She was a very beautiful woman, and men were always attracted to her, but she was so terrified she would be widowed twice, she wouldn’t even date, let alone risk falling in love again.

“I’d already been independent, and when my father died and my mother just disintegrated emotionally, I learned how to get along on my own. I wanted to be exactly like my father, though, and I knew if I didn’t do well in school I’d not be accepted at Aurora’s flight academy. That’s probably what kept me from just running wild. My mother couldn’t accept my decision to become a pilot. With good reason, considering how she lost my father; she more or less disowned me, but that’s a difficult story to tell.

“I had a fabulous family until my father died, and since then I’ve been on my own. Loners make excellent test pilots, but as men, we have a great many flaws.”

Blaise sat back slightly and wiped her eyes. The light in the clearing had grown dim, and the solar lantern had begun to glow. She understood Dez was trying to please her by relating more of his life than he had been willing to share previously, and she was touched. She also felt an unexpected kinship with his mother, for knowing the agonizing pain of loss herself, she could readily understand how the woman might never have recovered. She had mistakenly believed Dez’s streak of misfortune had begun with the Eclipse, but obviously his father’s untimely death had cast a long shadow over his life.

“Is it merely a fear of love that keeps loners alone?” she asked.

Never having been forced to confront the issue, Dez frowned slightly. Risking his life testing spacecraft had never frightened him, but as he looked back, he was amazed by how deftly he had avoided love. Not women, he thought with real shame, but the love so many had offered and he had belligerently refused. He had met Blaise at a particularly vulnerable time, but he knew that had not been her only appeal.

“No, it’s the fear love will end, of abandonment,” Dez finally replied, “but it’s so deep, I didn’t even recognize it until now.” He had never wanted to make love to her more, and not feeling well enough to try, he quickly focused his attention on practical matters. “Let’s have supper before we get too morose to eat, and I’ll take the first watch again.”

Feeling both physically and emotionally drained, Blaise considered his suggestion an excellent idea, and moved behind him to look through the supplies. “I’m still afraid we’re not eating nearly enough, but with the awful heat and the ghastly mess we’re in, it’s difficult to have much appetite.”

“Let’s have a protein bar as an appetizer, and then one of the drinks, and another bar for dessert.”

Blaise hoped to eat that much, but while the bars she had previously consumed had tasted good, when she took a bite of the first tonight, it lacked any flavor whatsoever. She chewed, swallowed, had a drink of water, and gave up. “I can’t eat. I think I’ll just go to sleep now, and try later when you wake me for my turn at watch.”

“Do you still feel sick to your stomach?”

“I feel awful about everything,” Blaise explained as she stretched out on her blanket.

“Yeah, so do I.” But Dez forced himself to eat. He listened for the panthers, and willed the bones in his legs to mend with the same fierce determination he had shown his entire life. For whatever reason, the forest filled him with a sense of foreboding. He wanted out, and soon.

The next morning, Dez again slept late, and awoke to find Blaise doing a series of stretching exercises nearby. As limber as a dancer, she was a joy to watch, and when she glanced toward him, he didn’t pretend to still be asleep. “Looks like you’re feeling better,” he called to her.

She didn’t, but Blaise didn’t disabuse him of the idea and smiled as she approached him. “What about you?”

Dez paused to take a brief inventory, and was pleased to discover that other than feeling slightly stiff from having spent another night on the ground, he wasn’t in any pain. Not wanting to disappoint her if his legs hadn’t really healed, he chose to be cautiously optimistic. “I actually think I’m doing a little better, thank you. What’s for breakfast?”

“As if you didn’t already know.” Blaise grabbed another package of protein bars and several drinks and laid them beside him. “I’ve already eaten,” she lied. “Now that you’re awake I want to go on down to the river to clean up. Can you get along by yourself for awhile?”

“Take your time, but don’t forget your laser.”

Blaise picked up one of the pistols, and the bucket, and went on her way. Dez waited several minutes to be certain she hadn’t forgotten something, and would return, then leaned forward and braced himself for a burst of pain as he adjusted his position. When he did not feel so much as a twinge, he removed the splint from his right leg and flexed his muscles. He felt weak, and a little bit shakey, but his leg was fine. He removed the left splint, gave a hesitant stretch, and then certain his legs would hold him, tried to decide how best to tackle the challenge of standing up.

The trees he was surrounded by presented the most obvious solution, and he used his arms to drag himself over to the closest one. He grabbed hold, slowly lifted himself to a standing position, and then waited until he felt confident enough to take a step. He wobbled a bit, but convinced a couple of good meals were all he needed, he lurched over to the next tree, and then to the next. After he had made his way around the clearing twice, he was ready to give an enthusiastic testimonial for the splints, and couldn’t wait to tell Blaise he was well.

After nearly being washed away the previous day, Blaise was far more cautious that morning. Looking for a shallow pool where she could bathe without fear of disaster, she started walking upriver along the sandy bank. Fed by mountain streams, the water tumbled over the rocky riverbed, churning with a turbulence that mirrored her emotions. Lost in thought, she pressed on, until rounding a sharp bend, she came upon a sheer wall of rock over which the river fell in a thundering cascade.

A brilliant rainbow shown in the mist above the waterfall. Taking it as a good omen, Blaise went no farther. She again removed her clothes and washed them, and taking care not to lose her footing, waded close enough to the waterfall to bathe in its radiant spray. The day was already so warm, the river’s coolness felt wonderfully refreshing and she stayed far longer than she had intended.

Her eyes were closed, her head tilted back as she washed her hair at the edge of the falls. She was so badly startled when Dez slipped his arms around her waist, she would have fallen had he not caught her. Recognizing his touch, she turned to find him laughing. He had shaved off his beard, and while she had rather liked the rugged look it gave him, he was far too handsome at the moment to draw any complaints from her. When he bent his head to kiss her, she reached up to meet him. His mouth was warm, his affection delicious and she shuddered not from the water’s chill but from the sheer joy of being in his arms. The familiar feel of his sleek, naked body against hers created an instant longing for an even more intimate form of closeness.

Moving very slowly, Dez drew Blaise back through the curtain of water to the safe haven behind the falls. Damp sand cushioned his step, and the light filtering through the sparkling water reflected off their shoulders with a golden glow. Lost in their own private world, Dez raised his hands to frame Blaise’s face, and kissed her until their hunger for each other grew too great to be so easily satisfied.

The force of the water churning beneath the falls had carved out a small cavern of perfect dimensions. Feeling their way along the rocky walls, they found a shelf worn smooth enough to serve as a convenient seat for Dez, and he quickly pulled Blaise across his thighs. Sliding his hand between her legs, he found the river’s slippery wetness mixed with her own.

Blaise wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and needing little of his luscious coaxing, braced her feet against the rocks. She raised herself over him in an ageless invitation, and he entered her with a deep thrust that brought their lengthy separation to a searing end. Savoring the thrill he had always given her, she held still while brazenly flexing her inner muscles to draw him to the brink of rapture.

While her deep kisses muffled his anguished moans, she increased the sweet torment by rocking with a gentle motion that swiftly grew demanding. She ground her hips against his, shifting her weight as she aligned her body more perfectly to his to increase her own pleasure without diminishing his. The joy she had created so easily in him swelled within her, and she slid her hands through his ebony hair as the bliss she had feared they might never again share pierced her heart with a bittersweet arrow.

Blaise continued to hold Dez tightly as the lingering heat of their union coursed through her with a magical tingle. Living in the moment, she felt only the muscular perfection of Dez’s body, and believed, if just for an instant, that nothing existed outside of what they created themselves. Then with the insistence of the waterfall, reality took hold, and she knew despite their best efforts, that nothing had really changed.

She leaned back and found Dez regarding her with a thoughtful stare that both puzzled and frightened her. “Are you sorry?” she asked. “Or merely disappointed?”

Dez nearly crushed her in his arms. “Neither,” he swore against her ear. “I was just trying to decide what to do with you.”

Blaise waited for him to relax, and then kissed his cheek. “If you were attempting to provide a demonstration of indecision just now, you failed.”

Dez slid his hands around her waist. She was so slender, his fingertips nearly touched. “No, joining you in the waterfall was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. It’s the next step that’s going to be impossible to take.”

Blaise raked her nails up his chest and gave his lower lip a playful nibble. “Then let’s stay right here a while longer.”

The waterfall’s roar wasn’t loud enough to drown out that enticing invitation, and growing hard again, Dez wound his fingers in her hair. He knew precisely what they were doing, but for the moment, losing themselves in each other, rather than face the danger that lay ahead made as perfect sense to him as it did to her.

“God, how I’ve missed you,” he moaned, and with an agility that surprised even him, he made love to her again, all the while praying it would not be the last time.

Chapter Sixteen

Dez followed Blaise along the narrow path back to the clearing. He was sorry they had ever had to leave the waterfall. It had been an enchanted interlude, and while they had prolonged it, he knew making love hadn’t resolved their difference of opinion on how to proceed. Blaise glanced over her shoulder and smiled at him, her expression a shy, secret declaration of the love she hadn’t spoken aloud, and he lost all hope of reasoning with her.

His heart told him they were meant to be together, and because relying on coldly rational intellect had yielded such poor results, he was inclined to follow his emotions, but he was definitely going to set some conditions.

“Oh, look,” Blaise cried as they reached the clearing. “Your snake’s back. Maybe we ought to leave him a few protein bars. He’d probably not tire of them nearly as quickly as we have.”

The snake was coiled atop the supply bags and looked remarkably content. “I wonder where he’s been. Do you suppose he leads such an exciting life he simply didn’t have time for us?” she asked.

Dez felt a definite fondness for the blue snake, but was not about to indulge such imaginative specula-tion. “Do snakes have the mental capacity to realize it if they do?”

“This one does. I can tell by the light in his eyes.” Blaise was still smiling as she turned toward Dez. “I’m going with you to meet Trane Mardag. Don’t try and stop me.”

Her hair had dried loose and floated around her head with the shimmer of a halo, but there was nothing angelic about the stubborn set of her jaw. As she moved toward him, he felt her energy as strongly as he had the evening he had stepped between her and Blair. He had been smart enough to move out of the way then, and knew it was the wisest course now.

“I won’t fight you,” he answered. “I understand what you’ve always known: If we can’t find Blair, he’ll always be between us. Accusations, blame, guilt, whatever we choose to call it, it’s Blair. If he’s dead, then we killed him; if he’s alive, he’s our salvation as much as we’re his. Let’s get our story straight, and then let Mardag know we’re on our way to see him.”

Relieved beyond measure, Blaise slid her arms around Dez’s waist and gave him an enthusiastic hug. “Thank you,” she murmured before stepping away. “I was so afraid you’d try and make me choose between you and my brother, and I couldn’t have borne that.”

Dez took her hand and drew her down beside him on the thick cushion of leaves. His legs weren’t bothering him at all, but he didn’t want to get overtired on his first day walking. “Only an insufferably jealous man, or an idiot would present such a ridiculous choice, Blaise, and I’m neither. ”I know your brother occupies an important place in your life, but what we shared at the waterfall proves there’s room in your life for me as well.“

“You’re not nearly as flawed as you claimed last night,” Blaise assured him. Delighted to be able to touch him again, she ran her fingertips up his arm. “I think you’re remarkable in all respects.”

“Good. Because if pulling rank is the only way I can do it, I am going to be the leader of this expedition. I won’t let you down, but you’ve got to have enough confidence in me to allow me to have the last word, or we’re going to waste precious time fighting each other rather than Tierradyne. Now I realize you can say what I want to hear now, and put up a hell of an argument later, but I want you to give me your word that won’t happen.”

Blaise knew the dire nature of their circumstances called for such a promise, but it was very difficult to give. She had told him only what he wanted to hear when they had first met, and that was an error she would not repeat. “I do trust you,” she swore, “with my life and Blair’s. My only concern is that you won’t go far enough to find the truth. I won’t go off on my own though. If I feel we ought to be doing more, I’ll say so.”

“Neither of us has a minute of training as undercover agents,” Dez reminded her, “so we’ll have to be cautious. Now, I realize you’re well aware I thrive on risk or I wouldn’t be a test pilot, but we’ll have to work our investigation in stages. The first challenge will be to win Trane’s trust. He might suspect we’re merely after the design of the innovative ship he boasted Tierradyne has. He’d be right too. That means we’re going to have to present ourselves as the lovestruck couple you described.”

He couldn’t suppress a wicked grin. “Fortunately, that won’t be difficult. Once we get the run of the base, we’ll discover all we can just as quickly as possible. If Blair’s there, and Koby, we’ll need a plan to get them out. Until we have a chance to observe their operation, there’s no point in going into any detail on that, though. Does what I’m suggesting sound reasonable to you?”

“Very, but I doubt I’ll have the patience to wait very long before we start snooping.”

Dez squeezed her fingers. “I’m just as anxious to find Blair as you are, but not at the cost of our lives. You may have no fear of death, but this isn’t a suicide mission. I want to get us all out alive. If Blair’s at the base, do you think you’ll be able to sense his presence?”

Blaise licked her lips and nodded. “Yes. As children, we never could hide from one another because each of us instinctively knew where the other was. That’s one of the things that worries me, Dez. If I can feel Blair is near, how am I going to come up with the patience you insist upon showing? Maybe moving slowly isn’t the best approach. Maybe we ought to strike quickly.”

“Like a commando raid?”

“Yes.”

“We’re not commandos,” Dez pointed out sternly. “We’re pilots who are so obsessed with each other we can’t think about anything else. Keep repeating that in your mind until you believe it.”

Blaise leaned close and kissed him. “I already believe it, Dez. There’s another thing that worries me, though.”

Dez had thought he had covered everything. “I’m almost afraid to ask what it might be.”

“If Trane is an alien—”

Dez refused to consider such a possibility seriously. “I’ve no proof of that. He just made me uneasy.”

“There was a reason for it,” Blaise insisted. “If he is an alien, then we won’t be dealing merely with Tierradyne’s treachery, but something infinitely more dangerous.“

“All the more reason to be cautious!”

“I agree, but stealing the Eclipse might be only a small part of their plans. We ought not to have such a narrow focus we miss what could easily be a threat to all humanity. We’re bright, alert, but what if we miss a vital clue? I think we ought to go in expecting the absolute worst: that Trane not only has the two missing Eclipses, along with Blair and Koby, but that he might well be in the vanguard of a force which means to take all humankind captive.”

While Dez preferred seeing Blaise’s amber eyes aglow with wild speculation to the sorrow he had seen there too often recently, he didn’t want to get caught up in it. “The odds are slim that Trane’s an alien, but I’ll keep an open mind on the question. That’s all I can promise. It will be a tremendous challenge to try to rescue Blair. Don’t ask me to save the whole universe as well.”

“It is a bit overwhelming, isn’t it?”

“Yes, indeed it is. Now let’s pack up everything here, change into clean flight suits, and get going.”

“You’re forgetting something.”

“Now what?”

“Why did your Scorpion crash?”

Dez was embarrassed to have overlooked such a vital point, and winced. “If I complain it was hit by the same invisible force that struck the Eclipse, then Trane will know I’m on to him, won’t he?”

Blaise grabbed both Dez’s hands. “That’s it, Dez! Roll play with me for a minute. What if we tell Trane we came here because we know Tierradyne is stealing the Eclipse, that because they have the technology to do it, we want to work for them?”

Dez drew in a deep breath. “Blast him with the truth? That’s an audacious plan, but if we confront Trane with our suspicions, he’ll either have to deny them or produce Blair and Koby. If he can’t or won’t, then we’ll have no reason to stay. We’ll just have to apologize for making such an outrageous accusation and hope he’ll let us leave. If he knows we know the truth, though, he won’t be able to release us, will he?”

Blaise frowned unhappily. “You’re right. We can’t risk confronting him with our suspicions when we walk in his door. If he’s as strange as you say he is, he’d either kill us or send us wherever he has Blair and Koby. We don’t dare risk ending up at the bottom of some abandoned mine shaft too.”

“Is that an impression you have of where they might be, or merely a wild guess?”

“Tierradyne has mines here on Zareba. It was merely a logical guess.” Blaise rose and began to collapse the frame of the tent. “If we don’t hurry, we’ll get caught in the rain. Now let’s think of a reason for your crash while we pack up.”

“They know why.” Dez stood, scooped up the snake, and carried him to the edge of the clearing and released him. “Adios, Amigo.” The snake slithered back toward their camp, but Dez redirected it and this time it entered the forest. “What if I explain I believe my ship was sabotaged, that the problem was programmed into the navigational computer? It’s plausible.”

“It’s not only plausible, it’s brilliant. You could have proposed that explanation, but been blamed rather than believed. Then whoever caused the problem with the Eclipse, could have used the same technique to sabotage your Scorpion. There’s enough traffic through Ariel for someone to have come in and done it, isn’t there?”

“Yes.” Dez turned the sabotage story over in his mind as they packed up their gear. “It makes it plain I’m blaming someone within Aurora, and that’s another plausible reason for us to leave Aurora’s em-ploy.”

“Yes, and rather than brood over it and wear ourselves out with conspiracy theories no one believes, we’ve come to make a fresh start with Tierradyne. That’s really clever, Dez. I think I better let you do all the talking, while I observe.”

“Finally!” Dez picked her up in an enthusiastic hug and lifted her clear off the ground. “We’re lovers fleeing internal sabotage. That’s all we need tell Trane.”

Blaise returned Dez’s joyous hug, but she doubted anything was going to be as easy as he hoped. They had their campsite cleaned up in a matter of minutes, changed clothes, and with the emergency gear and supplies again neatly packed away in easy-to-carry bags, they walked the short distance to where Blaise had left her Scorpion. She opened the hatch and began to stow away the gear.

Dez saw her helmet laying on the copilot’s seat and picked it up. “Medusa? What happened to Rebel?”

“I picked Rebel and Blair chose Renegade when we were eight years old. When I left the academy, it seemed like a good time to adopt a new call sign. The Medusa legend matched the darkness of my mood. How long have you used Phoenix?”

“Forever, but it’s never been more appropriate than it is now. Well, this is your ship. You be the pilot, and I’ll handle the communications.” He had transferred Trane Mardag’s card from his tattered flight suit to a clean one, and now removed it from his pocket.

Blaise hurriedly knotted her hair at her nape, and then donned her helmet. “The bastard better not shoot me down. I can’t take another day with those insipid protein bars.”

“At least you never complained about my company.” Dez secured the hatch and took the seat beside Blaise. He watched her work through the preflight checklist and had to remind himself that he was no longer her instructor. He wanted to say something encouraging, then realized she was so eager to meet Trane it wasn’t necessary. As soon as she had the Scorpion in the air, he signaled the Tierradyne headquarters at the main mining installation and asked for Trane Mardag. Clearance to land was given immediately.

“That sounded almost as though they were expecting us,” Dez mused aloud.

“Then we may have been watched,” Blaise warned. “It’s a good thing Sula knows where we are, as does my father.”

“Is he expecting you to maintain regular contact?”

“Yes. Will that pose a problem?”

Dez pulled on his helmet. “Let’s hope not.” He was amazed Edric Quinn hadn’t forbidden her to follow him, but then decided he must have wanted to believe Blair was alive as badly as she did.

The Zareba mining colony was nestled against the foothills of a mountain range whose natural springs fed the river where Blaise and Dez had bathed that morning. As she brought the Scorpion in low, they studied the colony with the intensity of cadets expecting to have to produce detailed maps for an exam. The huge transport vessels that carried the ore away to be processed never landed on Zareba, but remained in orbit and were loaded from shuttles that took off from the base where they had been cleared to land.

The miners’ quarters, recreation facilities, and the administration offices of the mine were at the north end of the field, closest to the mountains. The airfield was framed on one side by four mammoth hangars, and on the other by a building whose squat silhouette and heavily fortified perimeter immediately drew their attention.

“What does the low building on the west look like to you?” Blaise asked.

“There are no windows,” Dez observed. “It could be merely a supply depot. It could be a maximum security prison.”

“I’ll bet on the latter. Do you suppose that’s where they toss obstreperous miners and kidnapped pilots?”

“Perhaps. Whatever it is, let’s do our best to stay out of there.”

South of the field, there was another office building, and behind it, lush gardens surrounded the deluxe living quarters for the senior Tierradyne staff. Of modular design, they resembled Aurora’s concrete and glass accommodations. Dez scanned them hurriedly, looking for any sign of high security or guards, but saw none. Except for the warehouse/prison complex, the base was as serene as any he had ever seen.

“It doesn’t look like such a bad place for a visit,” he said.

“The shorter the better,” Blaise murmured. The tower had instructed them to land directly in front of the third hangar, and she brought the Scorpion down so gently Dez didn’t realize they had landed until she cut the engines. As he complimented the smoothness of her technique, she sat back and sighed. “So far, so good, but I do wish we had a plan for getting out of here, and fast.”

Dez pointed toward the row of shuttles at the end of the field. “The shuttles waiting to be loaded will be fueled. If we have to, we’ll take one of them.”

“Don’t forget we’ll have to disable whatever interference they’re running, or we’ll crash like you did and end up back in the forest with our pet snake.”

“Yes, of course, that goes without saying.”

“You know something, Major? I think I’m going to enjoy letting you lead this operation.”

Dez heard a note of relief in her voice and believed her. He leaned over and kissed her soundly. “That’s for luck, which we’ll certainly need. Now come on, let’s not keep Trane Mardag waiting.” He got up, opened the hatch, lowered the steps, and by the time they had both removed their helmets and stepped out on the field, Trane Mardag had arrived. Dressed in a heavily decorated copper-colored flight suit, he was smiling widely, and greeted them with what appeared to be sincere delight.

“You have astonished me, Major. I fully expected to have to conduct months of negotiations to lure you here. Lieutenant Quinn, it is a great pleasure to meet you. Please, let me escort you to my office, where we can escape the heat and enjoy getting to know each other.”

There was nothing alarming in Trane Mardag’s welcome, but like Dez, Blaise also noted a peculiar strangeness to his speech. He pronounced each of his words with such precise, deliberate care, she found herself tempted to complete his sentences for him. He was exceptionally tall, as many Skychildren were, and his fair coloring and green eyes weren’t unusual, and yet she couldn’t shake the eerie sensation that he was not what he seemed. Perhaps in response to her open appraisal of him, his glance turned inquisitive, lingered on her face, then strayed down her figure with a suggestive slyness that bordered on lewd.

Finding their host as unsettling an individual as Dez had, Blaise reached for Dez’s hand and laced her fingers in his. Bringing their flight bags, they climbed aboard the two-car tram Trane had ridden out to meet them. He sat in front with the driver, but turned slightly to continue their conversation. He gestured toward the mountains with a practiced ease, as though he frequently gave tours of the installation.

“My branch is completely separate from the mines,” he explained. “We merely share the same airfield. I know Aurora prefers to conduct test flights from space stations, but I enjoy having solid ground beneath my feet when I’m not flying.”

“I didn’t realize you were a test pilot,” Dez replied.

“No, why would you?” Trane answered with a deep laugh that sounded as vaguely false as his words. “It is my hope that we will soon come to know each other extremely well.”

As Trane leaned over to speak with their driver, Blaise sent Dez an apprehensive glance, then nodded slightly to let him know she agreed with his opinion of Trane. A casual observer would undoubtedly regard him as remarkably handsome, but his confidence was laced with an arrogance she couldn’t abide. He also had another disturbing quality, but she couldn’t as yet find the proper name for it. As they crossed the field, she got a better look at the building that had caught her attention from the air. From the ground, it was even more starkly forbidding. When Trane turned back toward them, she pointed it out.

“That’s the detention wing,” Trane replied. “Regrettably, mining attracts those who must rely on brawn for their livelihood, and unfortunately some are unable to distinguish between when such behavior is appropriate and when it is not. A few days in the detention wing is usually sufficient to increase their awareness to the level where they no longer pose problems.”

When Blaise continued to stare at the low building, Trane appeared puzzled by her interest. “We don’t resort to medieval tortures, Lieutenant. Solitary confinement alone is extremely effective, as are the liquid meals.”

“We can appreciate that,” Dez informed him. “I doubt our rations the last few days have been any better than your prison fare.”

Trane waited until the tram had come to a stop to reply. They were in front of a two-story office building faced with stone, which shown with a coppery glow. “I’d assumed you came from Ariel. Was I mistaken, have you traversed a great distance to join us?”

“It’s a long story,” Dez explained, his manner coolly confident, “and I know we’d both like something to eat while we tell it.”

“Of course, I didn’t mean to appear inhospitable.” He gestured toward the office complex. “Leave your bags here and we’ll get them later. We truly are delighted by your decision to join us, Major. If you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to state your request. Transferring your employment from Aurora to Tier-radyne will require some tedious formalities, but I will do my best to expedite things.”

He led them into the office building, where a strikingly beautiful young woman was waiting to meet them. Slightly above six feet in height, she was dressed in a copper flight suit, which even without the swirling braid that adorned Trane’s, flattered her slender figure superbly. She wore her sable curls clipped short to frame eyes of a bright, clear blue. Her ample mouth was accented with a blazing red, and like Trane’s, her smile had a decidedly predatory gleam.

Trane introduced her as Nerine Lowe, his adminis-trative assistant. “We’ll use the conference room,” he told her. He then polled his guests. “Do you have any specific requests, or will whatever the chef recommends suffice?”

“I’d like some fresh fruit,” Blaise replied, “and yogurt, please.”

Dez thought a moment. “A sandwich will be fine, with whatever meat he has.”

Nerine nodded and hurried off down the hall with a long, brisk stride. “I hope you’ll find the conference room comfortable,” Trane remarked. “We seldom use it for anything but parties.”

“You hold parties here?” Blaise asked in surprise.

“Yes, and quite often. Doesn’t Aurora like to celebrate its accomplishments?”

“Yes, of course, but they go in for lavish, formal affairs,” Dez replied, “away from the stark offices where business decisions are made.”

Trane led them into a spacious conference room. One wall was entirely made of glass to provide a splendid view of the garden, where an abundance of pink and white flowers were planted along winding paths. It was such an inviting scene, Blaise went toward the window rather than taking one of the chairs Trane had pulled from the table for her use.

The room itself was painted a pale green, and the furnishings continued a garden theme. Fashioned of wood from the nearby forest, the conference table and matching chairs had a rough-hewn, rustic quality, in sharp contrast to the elegant simplicity Aurora’s executives demanded. Fortunately, the chairs had thickly padded cushions covered in a bright floral print that repeated the colors of the garden.

Chiding herself to stick to their mission, Blaise turned back toward Trane. “What a charming room,” she exclaimed.

Trane frowned slightly, but the befuddled expression scarcely marred the attractiveness of his even features. “What did you expect, Lieutenant?”

Blaise came over to the table and took the chair Trane had indicated. Dez sat down beside her. “Something bold and bare, I suppose. This room is, well, almost cozy.”

“Tierradyne has always maintained closer ties to Earth than Aurora,” Trane explained. “That accounts for our preference for nature themes, but we can discuss differences in decor at a later date. Today I insist that you tell me what prompted you to leave Aurora and join us.”

Dez brought Blaise’s hand to his lips and planted a fervent kiss on her palm. “I hope you’ll forgive me if the tale gets somewhat convoluted, but the simple truth is, Blaise and I wanted to be together and my situation had become so difficult we had to leave Aurora to manage it.” He paused then, waiting for Blaise to embellish their love story as he knew she could.

Blaise, however, gave him an encouraging smile. “Go on, beloved, you’ll tell the story so much better than I ever could.”

Dez responded with an equally engaging grin, but gave her fingers a painful squeeze to let her know that he wasn’t amused by her sudden reticence. He described how he and Blaise had met prior to the opening of the fall term at the academy, and using her version of the tale, explained their disgust with what they considered the academy’s outmoded rules forbidding their affair. “Does Tierradyne have the same policy?” he asked.

Trane raised his brows slightly. “Yes, it’s seen as an essential precaution in preventing instructors from using their position to exploit the cadets assigned to them. But as you well know, regulations are no bar-rier to love. More than one cadet has wed an instructor the day after graduation. I assume you wish to marry. I’ll arrange for a ceremony this evening.” When Dez and Blaise exchanged what Trane could only interpret as a desperate glance, he burst out in a rumbling laugh. “Forgive me, Major, but you can’t possibly have left Aurora for a woman you have no intention of marrying.”

Dez thought back to their conversation in the woods, and wondered how they could have overlooked such an obvious point, then realized they had been so firmly committed to rescuing Blair they had not thought how far they would have to go to make their romantic tale plausible. “Of course we want to marry,” he insisted once he had recovered his composure. “We just didn’t dream it would be today.”

Her eyes filled with a convincing mixture of confusion and hurt, Blaise leaned toward Dez. “Is there something wrong with today?”

“We didn’t bring the proper clothes,” Dez offered weakly.

Blaise looked to Trane. “Surely there must be people working here who are close enough to our size for us to borrow something appropriate.”

“You needn’t borrow clothes for such an important occasion,” Trane replied. “I can have a formal uniform tailored for Major Sanchez, and provide a gown for you within the hour. You admired our garden. Shall we schedule the ceremony there, when it cools off at dusk? It’s equipped with solar bulbs that provide a wonderfully romantic atmosphere.”

Before Dez could agree, Nerine came in accompanied by a steward dressed in crisp white, and bearing a large tray with a luscious fruit salad for Blaise and a hearty roast beef sandwich for him. He set the plates at the appropriate places, and then offered a selection of beverages from a small cooler hidden in a bank of wooden cabinets along the wall. Dez asked for mineral water; Blaise chose wine.

“Thank you so much,” Blaise enthused. “We spent the last three days in the woods, and—”

“What woods?” Trane interrupted.

Feigning surprise at the harshness of his tone, Blaise sat back slightly. “The woods south of here,” she explained.

Trane rose to his feet. “We must get you to the medical unit immediately. Nerine, let them know we’re on our way. Forgive me for not sending you there on your arrival, but I had no idea you had been on Zareba before contacting us today. This is most distressing.”

Alarmed, Dez instantly forgot his suspicion of Trane, his shock at their impending nuptials, and his hunger. “What’s wrong? Other than the oppressive heat, we didn’t suffer any.”

Trane circled the table to urge them from their chairs. “The woods are frequently treated to keep birds away from the base, and while the toxins are especially designed not to harm the other wildlife, they have, upon occasion, caused illness in man. Decontamination isn’t a lengthy or painful process, but it must be begun at once. Please don’t worry. We needn’t postpone your wedding.”

Dez soon discovered that Trane Mardag was a master of understatement, for after the technicians in the medical unit had tested his skin with a sensor, they treated him as though he had been contaminated with nuclear waste. He was shoved into a shower and scrubbed with a thoroughness that left his skin raw. Blaise, however, showed such light traces of the toxin, all she needed was a shower using a specially formulated soap.

Still hungry, and now sore all over, Dez finally made his way back to the conference room where Blaise was seated alone, nearly finished with her salad. He slid into his chair and tried to adjust to the pain the simple action had caused him. “The two days I was in the woods before you arrived must have really gotten to me,” he complained. “But I feel worse now than I ever did out there.”

Blaise smiled and tugged on her earlobe. “I’m so sorry. You really must start being more careful.”

Wondering why she was being so unsympathetic, Dez stared at her, and she again pulled on her ear. Realizing that she was warning him that Trane Mar-dag might be listening, he nodded. “When we finish eating, let’s go out in the garden and rehearse for the wedding.”

“I’d rather rehearse for the honeymoon,” Blaise responded with a teasing wink.

Trane joined them then, and laid neatly printed forms and pens in front of each of them. “Before we proceed any further, I want to transmit your resignations to Aurora’s Fleet Command. Unless, of course, you’ve brought some documentation with you that confirms you’ve already resigned your commissions.”

Dez didn’t dare look at Blaise this time. If they were able to pull off their plan and rescue Blair, who might very well already be dead, then their resignations would be rescinded when they explained they had merely been part of a totally unauthorized undercover operation. Then again, if they got out with no more than their lives, he would again be soundly criticized for spouting wild theories, and his resignation would stand.

He had come too far to turn back, however. He grabbed the pen, scrawled his name, and then finally had a chance to eat his sandwich.

Blaise watched Dez sign the resignation without what appeared to be the slightest bit of reluctance, while her hands were shaking so badly she wasn’t certain she could push the pen across the form. She had told her father she wanted to follow up on Dez’s investigation. That’s all she was supposed to be doing. When her father was informed that she had resigned her commission so soon after graduating from the academy he ran so proudly, she knew it would break his heart. That Trane would undoubtedly include an announcement of her marriage to Dez would not merely astound her parents. It would probably kill them.

“Wait a minute,” she argued. “Dez told me you offered him the opportunity to be Tierradyne’s lead test pilot, but you haven’t mentioned any work for me. I don’t believe I’ll sign until I hear what your offer is.”

Dez swallowed so fast he nearly choked. “Now just wait a minute, Blaise. I left Aurora to be with you, and now you say you won’t stay if you aren’t offered a position that appeals to you?”

Dez appeared to be as furious as when he had discovered she was a cadet. Believing he was merely playing his part exceptionally well, she went along with him. “Don’t you dare talk to me in that tone. I have every intention of staying with you. I’d just like to know what it is I’m going to be doing here.”

“It doesn’t matter what you’ll be doing as long as you’re with me,” Dez shot back at her.

Blaise sat back in her chair, folded her arms across her chest, and looked up at Trane. “Perhaps we could speak privately. I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t know your title. How do you wish to be addressed?”

“I have more titles than I can remember. Please call me Trane.”

“All right, Trane,” Blaise continued. “I graduated first in my class from the academy. I’m a pilot, and a damn good one. I’d applied to Aurora’s testing branch, and I’d like to fly with yours. I don’t expect to be assigned the same work as Dez to begin with, but eventually, I hope we’ll be flying the same prototypes.”

Trane clearly did not know quite what to make of the lovers, but they amused him and he decided to be tolerant. “I like your spirit, Lieutenant. Because keeping you with Dez will make him happy, I’m inclined to give you whatever assignment you wish. You must, however, prove yourself to be as capable as you claim.”

Blaise responded with a sparkling laugh. “Dez wouldn’t be sitting here today if it weren’t for me.”

Trane pulled out a chair and sat down. “This has proven to be one of the most exciting days we have experienced here in a great while. Please, go on with your story. How did you come to be in our woods?”

Dez regarded the remainder of his sandwich with a wistful glance and pushed his plate away. When he told Trane Mardag he was a victim of sabotage, it galled him to finally be believed, when now he was telling lies.

Chapter Seventeen

Trane left to summon the tailor, and Dez and Blaise went out into the garden. Continuing to play a deliriously happy couple, they strolled hand in hand along the sandstone path, and took turns pointing out especially fragrant blooms. “They’ve many of the same flowering plants we had at the academy,” Blaise noted. “Azaleas, spirea, daffodils, rhododendron, gardenias. These others I don’t recognize must be indigenous to Zareba.”

She lowered her voice. “They could be listening still. I’m sure we’d be wise to assume we’re always being overheard, but there’s something I simply must say. I’m sorry about the wedding. You needn’t worry that I’ll try and hold you to whatever vows we have to repeat. We can have the marriage annulled as soon as we’re finished here.”

Dez noticed that the anguished light had returned to her eyes, and put his hands on her shoulders. He spoke in an equally hushed tone. “Trane surprised me. Perhaps I wasn’t as enthusiastic as I should have been, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want you. Test pilots make the worst of husbands, so it stands to reason they must also make less than satisfactory wives. It sounds to me as though we’re a perfect match.”

Appalled he would describe them in such uncomplimentary terms, Blaise brought her arms up inside his to slap his hands away. “If that was your idea of a romantic proposal, it was absolutely pathetic. Neither of us is in a position to offer, or promise, anything, so we needn’t make excuses. Our marriage will merely be a part of our mission, let’s not pretend it has to be anything more. Now, I want to see inside the detention wing. Will you help me?”

This struck Dez as a particularly poor time to remind her he was in charge. “Damn it, Blaise, I didn’t mean to insult you, but I don’t know any poetry.”

“And this is scarcely the place to begin memorizing romantic verses! We haven’t much time, Dez, especially if Trane is just toying with us.”

Dez backed away and bent to inhale a gardenia’s heady fragrance. “I didn’t want to bring you here in the first place.”

Exasperated, Blaise raised her eyes to the heavens. It was clouding over, the daily rain imminent. “I am here though, and we’re wasting time. Trane looked as though he believed every word of your sabotage story. Did you notice how often he nodded to encourage you to continue? He has to know you’re completely misguided, so the man’s a consummate liar. We’re in deep trouble here, and don’t pretend you don’t know it.”

Dez straightened up, and as he faced her squarely, his expression lost all hint of the compassionate understanding he had tried to show her. “We’re going to proceed with our initial plan. If you fight me on a single detail, I’ll tell Trane we’re finished and send you away on the next shuttle. Do you understand me?”

Blaise had seen the same icy determination etched on his features at times she didn’t care to remember and she knew he wasn’t bluffing. “Yes, Major. I understand you completely.”

“Good.” Dez reached out for her again, but this time he kissed her with a bruising passion that left her so dazed she had to grab his arms for support. Pleased that he still had the power to touch her emotions, Dez slipped his arm around her waist and propelled her along the path just as the raindrops began to fall.

“Now, let’s go back inside,” he urged, “and do our best to sound appreciative of whatever new clothes Trane provides. We can remarry later in a splendid ceremony in the academy chapel, but tonight’s wedding will be legal, and that’s all that’s required. Until I met you, I never saw any advantage to having a wife, but I’d be a fool to let a woman of your intelligence and beauty get away, and whatever my faults, I’m most definitely not a fool.”

Blaise remembered tender kisses in the mist of a sparkling waterfall, and could scarcely believe she was with the same man. “Arrogant bastard,” she hissed.

“Really, Blaise, that’s no way to refer to your future husband.”

Blaise saw Trane watching them from the conference room windows and smiled as though they were exchanging teasing compliments. “I’ll give you three days,” she murmured, “and if we aren’t out of here with Blair, then I’m rescuing him on my own.”

Dez tightened his hold on her arm. “I’m a man of my word, and I’m going to hold you to yours. You already agreed to my terms, and I won’t modify them. I do hope they have a photographer, because I know our wedding will be among our most precious memories.”

“Keep that up, and it will be among your last, Major.”

“I love your spirit, Blaise. It’s what attracted me to you in the beginning.”

“I would have sworn it was that pink bathing suit.”

Dez responded with a devilish chuckle. “I won’t deny that influenced me in your favor. Pink is definitely your color.”

Blaise entered the conference room ahead of him. The tailor was ready to measure Dez for a uniform, and Nerine gestured for Blaise to come with her. “We had a wedding here a couple of weeks ago,” Nerine informed her as they walked down the hall. “The bride wore a white lace gown that left so little to the groom’s imagination, he had great difficulty repeating his vows. Perhaps you’d prefer something more tailored and less revealing.”

“On the contrary,” Blaise replied. “I have a very beautiful tattoo and I’d like to show off as much as I possibly can.”

Nerine had a deep, husky laugh that echoed off the walls in continuous waves. “I like your attitude. You’re going to feel right at home here.” She led Blaise down a flight of stairs to the basement, where all manner of supplies were kept. She pressed the code into the security panel at the side of a door marked Women’s Apparel, and allowed Blaise to enter first. “We might as well pick up your uniforms now too. You’ll look far better in copper than silver and gray.”

Blaise surveyed the racks of flight suits and tailored uniforms. All were the same glistening copper fabric Trane and Nerine wore. “I thought Tierradyne personnel always wore tan.”

“Yes, most do. Our branch is the only one with a metallic shade.” Nerine measured Blaise with a sweeping glance and, after sifting through the flight suits available, choose one from the rack. “Try this on for size, and then we’ll order the rest of your clothing.”

Nerine was friendly, and unlike her enigmatic boss, there was nothing in the least bit foreign in her speech or manner, but Blaise was on her guard nevertheless. “There’s no special insignia on your suit. Just what is your branch called?” she asked as she stepped out of her Aurora flight suit. She had on bright red lingerie underneath, and could feel Nerine assessing her figure and tracing the swirling path of her tattoo.

Nerine frowned slightly, as though she considered Blaise’s question odd. “We have the responsibility for testing spacecraft of experimental design. Our work is the same as the unit to which Major Sanchez was assigned at Aurora. We conduct test flights, and either certify a new ship for production, or return it to the engineers who designed it for modification. We had hoped the major would join us before the final tests were begun on the Phantom. It will be replacing the Lancer, the ship currently used by the scouts in our expeditionary force. You’ll find it far superior to the Scorpion that brought you here, but then, our technology has always been ahead of Aurora’s.”

Blaise considered Nerine’s boast blatant propaganda, but wisely chose not to speak her opinion aloud. While of slightly different design, the copper colored suit fit her figure with the same comfortable perfection as the silver uniform she had donned upon graduating from the academy. “How do I look?” she asked as she turned slowly in front of Nerine.

“Like a very beautiful traitor,” Nerine replied. “Trane is far too polite an individual to lecture Major Sanchez on loyalty, but I believe it’s only prudent to warn you that should we ever have reason to suspect you’re relaying the information you gain here to Aurora, your employment will be promptly terminated.

The fact you’re married to Major Sanchez won’t save you, Lieutenant. If you came here to spy, you’ll not be with us long.“

Blaise picked up her silver suit and folded it over her arm. “I’ve no interest in industrial espionage, Ms. Lowe. I came here out of love alone.” A relaxed smile came easily to her, for she was speaking the truth. The only deception was that it had been Blair who had drawn her there, not Dez, with whom she was currently severely provoked. “Now where can I find something for the wedding?”

“Just around the corner,” Nerine said. “We stock garments with classic lines rather than the latest fashions, but we do have an extensive collection. I’m sure you’ll find something to please you.”

“It’s Dez I want to please,” Blaise replied, and appearing to have nothing more serious in mind, she sorted through silken separates and softly draped gowns for nearly an hour before choosing one to wear.

Nerine had made few comments, but once they were ready to leave, she became positively gracious. “You’ll find my quarters comfortable for the time being, and you and Major Sanchez will be assigned a suite after your wedding.” She again set a quick pace and led the way through the garden to the residences beyond. The skies were clear now, but the path was still wet and raindrops clung to the flowering shrubs lending the soft petals a bright iridescent sparkle.

Having been surprised by the relaxed furnishings of the conference room, Blaise did not know what to expect from the living quarters, but Nerine’s apartment was decorated throughout in delicate peach tones that were most inviting. In the living room, floor to ceiling windows provided a charming view of the garden, while the other three walls were splashed with beautifully painted gigantic white spider chrysanthemums, giving the room an exotic, oriental flavor.

“What a delightful apartment,” Blaise complimented sincerely. “Did you design it yourself?”

Embarrassed, Nerine quickly sloughed off the praise. “My expertise lies in the field of communications, not art. Each apartment has it’s own personality. Trane’s is the largest suite at the far end, and it’s the most spectacular. I imagine you’ll see it soon enough. Well, I need to get back to work. There’s still a couple of hours before the wedding, so you needn’t rush. A woman deserves a bit of pampering on her wedding day; please help yourself to my toiletries and cosmetics. I’m sorry I don’t have a maid to lend you, but we have no servants here.”

“You needn’t apologize. I’m used to taking care of myself.” When Nerine had gone, Blaise carried the garments she had selected into the bedroom and laid them across the foot of the bed. Covered with an apricot-colored spread, it was wide and looked so very comfortable, she couldn’t resist stretching out on it for a minute. She yawned sleepily and, thinking she would just rest briefly before bathing, closed her eyes. When she opened them, more than an hour had gone by, and Trane Mardag was standing at the foot of the bed. Startled, she sat up quickly.

“When you failed to respond to my knock, I let myself in to check on you. I hope I didn’t frighten you, but I couldn’t bear the thought you might have slipped in the bathtub and drowned on your wedding day.” He scooped up the slinky white sheath from among the clothes laying on the bed. “Is this what you plan to wear tonight?”

Feeling at a great disadvantage, Blaise quickly moved off the bed. Her hair had been neatly knotted at her nape when she had lain down, but now a profu-sion of wispy strands brushed her shoulders. She hastily tried to poke them back into place. “Yes. Thank you for your concern. I would have been terribly embarrassed had I overslept and been late for my own wedding. Dez would never have forgiven me.” She reached out to take the sheath from Trane’s hand, and he held it a moment too long before releasing it.

He was regarding her with a stare she considered far too intense, and she glanced toward the door, hoping he would have the decency to leave on his own. “I’m sorry there’s no time for you to stay and chat,” Blaise offered apologetically. “I really must get ready for the wedding.”

Ignoring her dismissal, Trane took a step closer. “Are you positive you wish to go through with this?”

Blaise didn’t appreciate his smugly superior attitude, nor his standing so close. She gripped the gown more tightly. “Of course. I love Dez dearly.”

A slow smile tugged at the corner of Trane’s mouth. “He is attractive, isn’t he? But then, so am I.”

Blaise had definitely heard enough, and hurriedly leaving the bedroom, walked to the front door. The apartment was carpeted in a closely woven material that matched the peach tone of the walls, and its thickness muffled the anger in her stride. “I don’t know what your customs might be here, but I find it difficult to believe they are all that different from ours. Where I come from, a bride doesn’t entertain a strange man in her bedroom an hour prior to her wedding.”

Obviously amused, Trane followed her, but made no move to leave. “Do you consider me strange, Lieutenant?”

When every nuance of her behavior was of necessity veiled in lies, Blaise found it difficult to know how to respond. She chose discretion. “I don’t know you well enough as yet to have an opinion.”

Trane traced the smooth swell of her cheek with his fingertips, then leaned down and brushed her lips with a deliriously tender kiss. “What do you think of me now?” he asked in a husky whisper.

His hand had created a tingling trail across her skin, and his kiss had held an enchanting sweetness that shocked her. She tried to step back, but the closed door stopped her. She looked up at him, certain he was one of the most remarkable beings she had ever met, and desperately afraid she knew why. “You have such an intriguing accent,” she offered in a breathless rush. “Where are you from?”

Trane flashed a wide smile that stopped on the edge of laughter. “I’m from beyond your wildest imaginings. I can delay the wedding while we explore what I promise will be a thrilling array of possibilities, or you can choose the safer course and wed Desmond Sanchez as planned. Which is it to be?”

Shocked, frightened, dumbfounded, Blaise had to swallow hard to force her voice past the knot in her throat. Part of her leapt at the chance to win Blair’s freedom by seducing his captor, while her conscience cautioned the restraint Dez had demanded. He had accused her of betraying him once, and she would not give him cause to do so again.

“Dez has given up everything for me. I won’t betray his trust. Please go.”

Trane nodded slightly. “I sought out Major Sanchez not merely for his skill as a pilot, but because I believe him to be a man of honor. You’ve just proven yourself worthy of him.”

Appalled to think he had merely been toying with her, Blaise reacted angrily. “Was your offer merely a test?”

“You could regard it as such, but there was no way you could have failed,” he assured her with another playful grin. “Now prepare for the wedding. I’ll return in an hour to escort you. Oh yes, you distracted me so thoroughly, I nearly forgot I have something for you.” He slipped his hand into his jacket pocket and withdrew a shimmering gold necklace. Handcrafted by a master goldsmith, the intricately fashioned chain was set at two-inch intervals with emeralds, deep golden topaz, and lighter citrine. When he dropped it over her head, the stunning necklace dipped below her waist.

He then produced a pair of topaz earrings. Taking her hand, he placed them in her palm. “I thought these would match your eyes. And I was correct.”

Trane was so full of surprises, Blaise could not help but wonder what he might conjure up next. “This is too much. I can’t accept such expensive jewelry from you.”

“Think of my presents as a reward for bringing Sanchez to me. He would never have left Aurora without you, so I am forever in your debt. Besides, when you have had the opportunity to appreciate how generous I am a while longer, you may make a different choice the next time one is offered.”

Trane gave her a second kiss with the innocent sweetness of his first, and let himself out of Nerine’s apartment. Exhausted by the melodramatic exchange, Blaise leaned back against the door and tried to catch her breath. There had been a time when fictional accounts of the future had portrayed aliens as hideous monsters, but when after extensive exploration in space, none had been found, the frightening stories had lost their appeal. What if aliens did exist, Blaise thought, and they weren’t ugly reptilian creatures at all, but wonderfully attractive beings who could walk among Earthmen and Skychildren alike without attracting more than an admiring glance?

Suddenly Blaise felt sick clear through. It wasn’t only a sham marriage she began to dread, but all that the future might hold.

Trane went to see Dez next. Dez had been assigned an apartment decorated in slate blue. Here the walls were splattered with iridescent stars, which Dez would later discover glowed in the dark. Trane produced a black velvet pouch and poured the contents into Dez’s cupped hands.

“I knew you’d had no time to shop for a wedding ring, and because Lieutenant Quinn is undoubtedly the sentimental type who’ll never remove the ring you place on her finger, I urge you to choose wisely.”

Dazzled by the sparkling gems, Dez juggled the rings, nearly dropping a couple before catching them all in his grasp. He carried them over to the clear acrylic dining table and laid them out in a row. Among them were a wide gold band, channel-set rubies, an impressive emerald, sapphires and pearls woven into a substantial yet delicate ring, a deep purple amethyst, and a circlet of emerald-cut diamonds that signified an eternity of love.

“Where did you get these?” Dez asked.

Trane responded with his usual graceful nonchalance. “We have an amazingly complete store of emergency supplies. Now please, select a ring for your bride.” When Dez hesitated, Trane laid his hand on his shoulder. “If you’ve no idea which would please her, then perhaps you don’t know her well enough to make her your wife.”

Having seen his lovely fiancee in the worst as well as the best of circumstances, Dez was convinced that he knew her very well indeed. That wasn’t his problem. “We’ve yet to discuss my salary, and a couple of these look as though they’re worth more than a year’s pay.”

“That may very well be true, but the ring will be Tierradyne’s gift to you. Please consider it a signing bonus.“ While Dez had yet to see a contract, he had no intention of honoring one anyway. He picked up the circle of diamonds.

“An interesting choice,” Trane said. “I would have given her the gold band. There is a beauty in simplicity that the finest gems can never match.”

Dez slipped the diamond ring into his pocket. “I have a more practical view. Test pilots have a high mortality rate, and if Blaise is widowed, I’d like her to have a secure future.”

Trane looked at him questioningly. “Do you honestly believe she would sell her wedding ring?”

“I hope not, but let’s just call it an insurance policy I hope she’ll never have to cash in.”

“Major, perhaps Aurora loses a great many test pilots, but Tierradyne does not. The families of those few who are lost continue to receive full benefits. None are impoverished and forced to sell precious keepsakes to survive. I hope you’re not overlooking the fact that with Lieutenant Quinn also requesting a position as test pilot, you may very well be the one who is widowed.”

Dez thought Blaise was in far more danger on the ground here on Zareba than she would ever be in the air. “None of us has a guarantee of a long and happy life, Trane, but I’d never try and stop Blaise from pursuing the career she loves. That would be tantamount to murder.”

Trane gathered up the extra rings and returned them to the velvet pouch. “I see that you do know her well after all. This is a day to celebrate new ventures. If you’re ready, I’ll walk with you to the conference room, and then go for the lieutenant. Because her father is unable to be with us, I’ve offered to take his place. I’m not taking sides, you understand. Should you wish me to be your best man, I can assume that role as well.”

That Trane Mardag would serve in either position struck Dez as ludicrous, but he smiled as though he felt honored. “Thank you. I’m not certain just what a best man is supposed to do, but if I need anything, I’ll be sure to call upon you.”

“I believe the best man holds the ring.”

Dez was reluctant to part with the one he had chosen, even temporarily. “Neither Blaise nor I are a sticklers for tradition. I’ll keep the ring.”

“As you wish. Shall we go?”

Dez glanced down at the copper-colored uniform the tailor had provided with amazing rapidity. The fit was superb, and with the bronze tones of his skin, far more flattering to him than Aurora’s gray had been. “How do I look?”

Trane laughed. “Magnificent, as you well know. Had you not brought your own woman with you, you would have been exceedingly popular here, as I imagine you’ve been everywhere you’ve been assigned.”

Trane’s admiration made Dez feel even more uneasy than he usually did with him. “You don’t care for women?” he asked.

Trane had already started for the door, but turned back. “If you’re asking if I prefer men, the answer is no. Unfortunately, whenever I’ve met a woman as exciting as your lieutenant, she’s already been involved with someone else. Every life has its disappointments, and a failure to find love has been mine.”

“Somehow I doubt you’ve ever been lonely.” Trane pressed the panel to open the door. “No, I’m seldom alone, Major, but that’s not the same as being in love. Please believe me when I say I envy you.”

Trane spoke with a touching sincerity that almost made Dez believe him, then he reminded himself that this was the same man who apparently knew how to steal an Eclipse right out of the sky, and he lost all sympathy for him.

Blaise bathed, dressed, styled her hair atop her head, and then debated whether or not to wear the jewelry Trane had given her. The cream-colored gown had a delectable drape that allowed a teasing glimpse of her tattoo where it swept up over her left shoulder and down across her back, but the front of the dress was plain and the long necklace added a stunning touch of elegance. As for the topaz earrings, once she had tried them on, they accented her eyes so beautifully she doubted she would ever wish to wear anything else.

She had picked up a pair of gold sandals, and thinking she looked amazingly good when there had been so little time to plan, she went to her door, ready to walk over to the conference room on her own. Trane was already coming down the walk, however, and waved to her. Grateful not to have to invite him inside, she found it easy to smile as she walked toward him.

Trane moved to block the path. “There’s still time to change your mind.”

Perhaps it was because she was wearing a silken gown rather than a ruggedly tailored fight suit, but Blaise could actually feel the energy emanating from him now. He reached out to take her hand, but first ran his fingertips down her bare arm. She couldn’t suppress a shiver that had nothing to do with dread. “Your persistence is flattering,” she replied, “but Dez and I belong together.”

“Yes, you and he make a very handsome pair,” Trane agreed. He slipped her hand over his arm and patted it lightly as they started down the stone path together. “I must confess to having a terrible weakness for blondes, but even taking that into account, I find you incredibly appealing. If for any reason you aren’t happy with Sanchez, please come to me.”

“I intend to honor my wedding vows, Trane. Affairs don’t interest me.”

“You misunderstood me. I was offering to end your marriage, not to merely console you while you struggled with an unhappy relationship.”

“You are too kind.”

“No, I am merely your slave, and I wish with all my heart that you were willing to be mine.”

His words were romantic, his softly accented voice endearing, his gaze almost hypnotically appealing. For a brief instant Blaise had a difficult time remembering she was on her way to marry a man who had described them as a perfect match because test pilots were such notoriously poor partners. Tugging on his arm, she drew him down a side path that led away from the conference room until they found a secluded arbor covered with a tangled vine heavy with fragrant clusters of white buddleia.

She turned toward him and in a move she hoped would call his bluff and end his incessant innuendos, she gestured impatiently. “I’ll give you one chance to change my mind, but this can’t be just a stupid test, Trane. It has to be real.”

A flash of surprise lit his green eyes, and then rather than laugh and apologize as she had hoped, he slipped his arms around her waist and drew her near. He eased the neckline of her gown off her shoulder and nuzzled the frosting of gold and silver stars decorating her skin. She had applied a faint mist of a floral perfume that was as intoxicating as her rare beauty, and growing unsteady on his feet, he leaned back against the solid support of the arbor and picked her up so he could kiss her more easily.

Having boldly dared him to give affection in such enthusiastic abundance, Blaise was nonetheless totally unprepared for her own body’s treacherous response. As Trane’s mouth covered hers, she felt all rational thought slip away. There was only the sweet fragrance of the buddleia, the bright blur of his copper-colored uniform, and an aching need that a thousand kisses wouldn’t satisfy. The longing welled up within her, flooding her senses with desire so acute she could not have remained on her feet had they still been touching the ground.

Nearly smothered by his deep kisses, she grew dizzy and clutched his shoulders clumsily with fingers that felt numb. He had a firm grip around her waist with his left arm, but his right hand strayed down her body, caressing her breasts before sliding over her hips, then moving up under her gown to touch the bare skin of her thighs. Blaise knew precisely what he was going to do next, and she wanted it as much as he, but in the next instant, she heard footsteps on the main path. The sound barely registered above the wild beat of her heart, but she recognized the man going by as Dez, and suddenly terrified that she was playing with something far more dangerous than fire, she found the strength to pull free of Trane’s embrace.

“You can’t still want him,” Trane moaned.

Panic blocking all hope of a response, Blaise grabbed a stalk of the buddleia and ran to meet the man she intended to marry.

Chapter Eighteen

The base chaplain was a woman with short, auburn hair, fair skin dusted with freckles, and an appropriately angelic smile. She was reading from a ceremony written in a beautiful, poetic style, but the unfamiliar wording made it difficult for Blaise to follow. She tried to concentrate on the chaplain’s pale blue eyes and musical voice but she was hopelessly distracted she kept getting lost and feared she would make the wrong response, or even worse, not say anything at all and everyone present would know this wasn’t a real wedding.

Just as Trane had promised, the lush garden provided a splendid romantic setting, fragrant with the perfumes of a dozen varieties of flowers, it held the scent of joy the ceremony deserved. Surrounded by friendly people in the testing branch’s distinctive copper uniforms, Blaise tried to think only of the man by her side, but Trane’s presence kept seeping into her thoughts and she dared not look his way. When Dez gave her a sudden sharp nudge with his elbow, she realized her mind had been wandering again and she had missed hearing a phrase she was supposed to repeat.

The chaplain’s eyes lit with amusement as she thoughtfully gave Blaise another cue. “The response is, ”I do.“”

“I do,” Blaise announced with far more confidence than she felt. Her knees were still so weak, had she not had Dez to lean against, she would have collapsed in the grass. Now painfully alert, she managed the exchange of vows without another embarrassing lapse and sighed with relief. She hadn’t given any thought to a ring, and when Dez slipped the exquisitely beautiful diamond band on her hand, her eyes filled with tears as she looked up at him.

“I should have had a ring for you too,” she whispered.

Dez brought her hand to his lips and winked. Touched that he would try so hard to make their elaborate hoax appear real, Blaise put her hand over his as the chaplain brought the ceremony to a close, with a brief prayer for their happiness in a new life together. Dez really kissed her then, and not with the demanding passion he had shown earlier, but with a tenderness that made the tears glistening in her eyes all the more difficult to suppress. He pulled her close and cradled her head against his shoulder while the guests neither of them knew, broke into enthusiastic applause.

The reception that followed served as a combined celebration of their marriage and welcome to Zareba. The party began in the conference room, but quickly spilled out into the garden where the guests broke into informal clusters to enjoy lighthearted conversation under the twinkling lights. Taking it upon himself to introduce them to their new coworkers, Trane was never far from the newlyweds’ side, but Blaise continued to strive to ignore him. Instead, she gave her full attention to her new husband, although she knew she would not be his wife for more than a few days. At their first opportunity, she begged him to leave.

Dez leaned close so she would be the only one to hear his answer. “I’m as eager to start our wedding night as you, but we should thank Trane and Nerine for organizing everything so beautifully before we go.”

Blaise knew she could not ask him to attend to that chore alone. She found it easy to thank Nerine in a gracious manner, but when they turned to Trane, she studied the Tierradyne crest on the row of brass buttons running down the front of his uniform rather than risk meeting his gaze. Trane refused to be snubbed, however, and squeezed her hand much too fondly. He then bent down to kiss her cheek and the brief contact seared her conscience as well as her flushed skin.

She closed her eyes to shut out the memory of his last devouring kiss, but the warmth of his breath against her cheek brought it back in all its shameful heat. “Thank you,” she whispered, “for your kindness and generosity.” She heard the mellow sound of his deep voice as he responded, but his words were blurred in her mind. Like her wedding vows, she could not have repeated them without prompting. She held Dez’s hand so tightly as they walked to the unit he had been assigned that he soon began to complain.

“What’s wrong with you? It’s not as though you’d just been forced to wed a complete stranger and were terrified of having to spend the night with me. You look scared to death.”

Her terror was not of him, but of her own disgusting desire for a man who could not be more dangerously wrong for her. Blaise felt as though she was caught in a hellish trap, and she was sure Trane was taking a fiendish delight in watching her suffer. While she thought so little of herself, she couldn’t bear to have Dez think even less of her. She was much too ashamed to admit that Trane had called her bluff on a ridiculous dare she should never have offered.

“I expected to come here, perhaps fly a few spacecraft, find Blair, and leave. I didn’t anticipate having to masquerade as a deliriously happy bride.”

Dez tapped the code into the security panel, and as the door slid open, he swept Blaise up into his arms and carried her across the threshold. It wasn’t until they were safely inside, and he replaced her on her feet, that he felt free to vent his anger. “Just what was it about the wedding that upset you so, the fact that it wasn’t our idea, or that you had to marry me?”

“Oh Dez, please.” As Blaise had all evening, she toyed with the spectacular necklace Trane had given her. Feeling a new burst of guilt for wearing it, she dropped her hands to her sides and began pleating the fabric of her gown with her fingers. “At another time, another place, when it was something we both sincerely wanted, I would be proud to marry you. Please believe me, you’re not the source of my anxiety.”

She was so apologetic, Dez was angry with himself for being curt with her. He ran his hands up her arms and again pulled her close. “For a minute there, you had me really frightened,” he murmured against her loosely coiled hair. “I don’t care how inappropriate the time or place is, I want you so badly I—” Giving up on the words that didn’t hold nearly enough emotion, he found her lips and kissed her with the hunger he had fought to hide all evening. It was so much easier to convey the depth of his feelings with actions, and as she relaxed against him, he knew she understood.

The spacious suite had a large master bedroom, and with each successive kiss, he edged her closer to it. The bed was covered in a slate blue spread splashed with the same silver stars that brightened the walls. It reminded him so much of her exotic tattoo, he couldn’t wait to peel off her gown and lay her across it. When at last he did, he freed her hair, then flung the jeweled necklace on the chair near the bed. After removing his own clothes, he was far too excited to feel any lingering discomfort from the abrasive shower he had been given. He buried his face between Blaise’s star-kissed breasts. Her skin held a delicious fragrance and he licked her rosy nipples with the whole length of his tongue, and found her taste even more luscious.

“Even in the worst of circumstances, you’re the best of companions,” he told her. “When things are good, you’re sublime. Just think of the stories we’ll have to tell our children.”

Blaise slid her fingers through the inky blackness of his hair and framed his face in a graceful caress. “Thank you for trying to make our marriage seem real.”

Dez drew back slightly. “This is real,” he swore. He took her right hand and ran it down his chest. “Don’t I feel real to you?”

She let her fingertips stray lower, across the flat plane of his belly and into the thick curls below. He exhaled in an encouraging moan as her hand closed around his hardened shaft. “Oh yes, very real,” she agreed as her touch grew more tantalizing still. The bed was wide, the luxurious spread soft, and she soon had him stretched out on it in grateful surrender. She loved him not only with her hands, and lips, and tongue, but with her whole heart as well.

There was nothing wrong about being with this man, and in her mind, there never had been. He accepted all she could give, and then pushed her down against the pillows to seek his release deep within her. He had never wanted her so badly, but even more, he had wanted to complete the act that made them truly wed, in both word and body. He slid his arms around her and held her in a fervent embrace until the searing heat of their union at last began to subside and he could again think clearly.

“I’m going to make love to you all night,” he promised. “The last resident thoughtfully left several bottles of sparkling wine. Would you like some?”

Filled with a lazy warmth, Blaise readily accepted his offer, but she missed him terribly before he returned with a bottle and two crystal flutes etched with the same starry pattern that had been used throughout the suite. “I’m so impressed,” she told him. “Tier-radyne does a much better job of decorating their quarters than Aurora. Each must have it’s own distinctive patterns and flavor.”

Dez filled her flute, and as soon as they had toasted each other, he let the remainder of his splash between her breasts and dribble down into her navel. “It’s your flavor I like best.” He set his empty flute aside, sat down beside her, and began to lick the effervescent wine from her breasts. He shifted his position to drain the tiny pool from her navel, then became entranced with the trail of stars that danced across her stomach. Wanting to taste them all, he moved off the bed, and went to the end, where he could tickle her feet before nibbling on her toes.

He began counting the gold and silver stars as he kissed them, but swiftly lost track. Her skin was smooth, her muscles firm, her own scent more alluring than any perfume. Lost in desire, Dez savored the taste of her until they were both more intoxicated with each other than they had ever been on sparkling wine. Love and laughter mixed in a star-filled haze, and they fell asleep in a relaxed tangle, all thought of their dangerous mission forgotten in the beauty of their dreams.

When later Trane let himself into the suite, the only light was from the glowing stars illuminating the walls. His step light on the plush carpet, he walked into the master bedroom and hesitated at the door. He listened to the newlyweds’ deep breathing, timing it in his mind. He was pleased they had obviously enjoyed the wine. Not trusting its spell to last as long as he required, he removed a small canister from his hip pocket.

Moving to Dez’s side of the bed, he released a light spray of an anesthetic that would keep him under until dawn. He then plucked the gold necklace from the chair, and again slipped it over Blaise’s head before picking her up. She sighed softly as he carried her from the room, but Dez made no sound at all.

Trane’s suite was only three doors away, and here the walls were crystal panels bearing superbly detailed charts of the universe etched in such delicate patterns . no one had ever noted just how accurate they were. The carpet was a bright red, as was the oversized furniture which had been especially designed for a man of his stature. He sat down in a deeply padded chair, cradled Blaise on his lap, and combed her tawny tresses through his fingers before brushing her lips with an insistent kiss.

Blaise came awake slowly, and feeling bare skin beneath her cheek, made the dreamy assumption she was still with Dez. She yawned and stretched, then snuggled closer. She would have gone back to sleep had Trane not grabbed a handful of her hair and forced her to look up at him. His suite was lit from within the crystal walls, and they were surrounded by a pale golden light.

Recognizing her mistake instantly, Blaise recoiled. “How dare you?” she gasped, but Trane promptly muffled any further protest with a kiss he deepened and extended until she could no longer breathe deeply enough to defy him.

“I’m the one who should ask that question,” he taunted her before kissing her again, and again. “I let Sanchez have you for a night, but now you are mine.”

Blaise put her hands against his bare chest, then quickly drew away when he again took hold of her hair. He was incredibly strong, and in desperation she tried to slide off his lap, but he easily stopped her. He was wearing silk pants, and their slippery softness provided a sensuous caress to her thighs, but the muscles of his legs were taut, giving little in the way of a cushion. She twisted her hips, then regretted the action, for she was now wedged even more tightly against him. Fully aroused, he moaned with delight, as though she had deliberately meant to bestow an enticing caress.

“You can’t stop now,” he insisted in a challenging whisper.

“I’ve not started anything! Now let me go. I want to be with my husband.”

Trane silenced her protests with a suffocating kiss while he used his free hand to fondle her breasts. He then bent his head and sucked a nipple into his mouth. He teased the tender bud with his teeth, then laughed as she writhed against him. “Shall I leave my teeth marks on you?” he asked. “How would you explain them to your darling spouse?”

Before she could answer, he lowered his hand to her inner thigh, then slowly moved it up. Again she tried to push him away, but he easily ignored her ineffec-tual blows and slid his hand between her legs. His touch became teasing then as he taunted her with a slow circular motion he eased with her own wetness.

The more Blaise fought him, the more enjoyable Trane’s task became, and his low chuckle echoed in her ears with a taunting roar. His left hand still wound in her hair, he bent her head back at a tortuous angle and sent his tongue on a wondering journey through her mouth, mirroring his hand’s sly explorations. He knew precisely where to press, where to give only a light brush of his fingertips, and where to trace intricate patterns that made Blaise quiver with a shuddering pleasure he knew would nonetheless revolt her. He strove to create the response she stubbornly fought to withhold and having the superior strength, he eventually won.

He used the small vial of spray on her then, and when she went limp in his arms, he returned her to her husband’s bed. The anesthetic would cloud her memory and leave no clear image of what had transpired in his quarters, but Trane would not forget, and the next time he would take even more from the deliriously unwilling Blaise Quinn.

Dez shook Blaise’s shoulder lightly. He was already dressed in a copper flight suit and had brewed her a cup of tea. She looked up at him, the magic they had shared blurred by something so distasteful she could not find its name, but it tugged at her memory like the remnants of a terrifying yet half-forgotten dream. She reached up to cover a wide yawn, and the gold necklace brushed against her arm.

Dez found her puzzled expression endearing. “I distinctly recall throwing your necklace on the chair last night. I don’t know whether it was the wine, you, or a combination of both, but I slept so soundly I failed to notice if you left the bed. Did you get up and put it back on?“

A wave of revulsion curled through Blaise’s belly that she doubted a dozen cups of tea would settle, but she had no real clue as to why. “I must have,” she replied as she reached for the blue cup. Like the crystal flutes, it was decorated with a spray of stars.

Dez sat down on the edge of the bed and took a closer look at the necklace. “Did Nerine loan this to you along with the topaz earrings?”

His hand brushed the tip of her breast and instantly the nipple grew taut. She tried not to flinch as the faint memory of an unwelcome touch surged through her. “No, they were a gift from Trane.”

Dez wasn’t at all pleased, but continued to study the exquisite gold chain. “Last night I thought they were just pretty trinkets of Nerine’s, but these gems are real, aren’t they?”

“Yes, I believe so. I told him they were much too expensive, but he claimed I deserved them for influencing you to come here.”

Dez used the stunning necklace to draw her mouth to his. He gave her a slow, sweet kiss that tasted of cinnamon tea. “Keep this and the earrings as souvenirs of our adventures, but don’t accept such lavish gifts from any other men.”

Blaise jerked the jeweled chain out of his hand. “I don’t need to be told how to behave. I know jewelry was an inappropriate gift, but that’s the least of our problems here. We could have put our time to much better use than we did last night. Let’s not make the same mistake twice.”

Insulted she had wanted to prowl the base on their wedding night, Dez hoped she was speaking in such vague terms out of worry their apartment was bugged rather than a sincere desire to force him to do her bidding. Before dressing for the wedding, Dez had searched the place as thoroughly as he could without the proper electronic equipment, and as far as he could tell, they weren’t being observed, nor were their conversations being monitored. He didn’t want to fight with her about the need for discretion, however, and he rose slowly.

“Your uniforms were delivered about an hour ago, along with an invitation from Trane. If we can bear to interrupt our honeymoon, he wants to take us on a flight in the new Phantom. If it’s the ship we believe it to be, then it’s aptly named.”

Blaise quickly took another sip of tea to hide her dismay. Trane Mardag was the last person she wanted to see. “He’s making it too easy, Dez. I’m afraid nothing is as it seems.”

“Don’t forget that he came looking for me. While tarnished, my reputation is still worth quite a bit to Tierradyne.”

Blaise preferred to remain in bed rather than have him watch her search through her new wardrobe in the nude. She had picked out a nightgown and robe yesterday, and hoped they were with the other clothing. “You’re worth even more to me,” she assured him. “Give me a few minutes to shower and dress, and I’ll go with you.”

“Fine. Are you hungry?”

Blaise shook her head. “Tea is all I need. Thank you for making it for me. It’s a sweet surprise.”

Dez leaned down to caress her cheek with a teasing kiss. “I mean to give you a lifetime of sweet surprises. Now hurry up; I want to see the Phantom.”

Blaise watched him leave the room with the same long, confident stride she had recognized on the walk yesterday. Since their arrival at the base, his interest had swiftly strayed from rescuing Blair to finding the ship that he blamed for destroying his career. Why hadn’t she seen that before now? He wasn’t going to help her find Blair until he had the evidence he had come to gather. She resigned herself to working alone to find her brother, but she doubted Trane would stay out of her way.

Blaise removed Trane’s necklace to shower, but as she began to dress, she felt an inexplicable compulsion to wear it. Confused by her regard for a gift from a man whose attentions she wished to discourage, she nevertheless looped it around her neck twice and dropped it down inside her flight suit where it couldn’t be seen. Impatient, Dez peered into the bedroom.

“Do you need my help getting dressed?” he asked.

Blaise yanked on her boots and was ready to go. “No, but I could sure use your help to complete the mission that brought us here.”

Dez took her hand to escort her from their apartment. “Patience. Believe in me a while longer, and we’ll succeed.” He urged her along the garden path with a brisk step, and they reached the field in a matter of minutes. Blaise abruptly pulled back and nodded toward the detention wing.

“We have to get in there tonight, Dez. Perhaps it’s only a premonition, but I don’t want to spend another night here.”

Dez shook his head, but as he opened his mouth to argue, a rescue sled, it’s powerful engines creating a terrible clatter, lowered Dez’s battered Scorpion down beside the one Blaise had flown there. After detaching the cables, the sled landed, and Trane Mar-dag climbed out and walked toward them. He was wearing a copper flight suit identical to theirs, and exuded a commanding presence.

“I’ll have our computer personnel run a complete analysis of the navigational programs on your ship, but I doubt they’ll find anything. Anyone clever enough to sabotage your Scorpion would surely have done it with a program that would disappear without a trace after it was activated.”

“That’s what I was afraid of, too,” Dez agreed, but he was shocked Trane had gone to the trouble of removing his ship from the forest. “Now, where’s the Phantom? We’re eager to see it.”

Trane gestured toward the last hangar. “We keep it under tight security. While Zareba is sufficiently remote to make infiltration of our operation difficult, we’re still vigilant.” Trane regarded Blaise with a curious glance. “I must say you two look surprisingly well rested. I really didn’t expect to see either of you today. But perhaps flight is your true passion rather than each other.”

Dez didn’t like the suggestive manner in which Trane had addressed his comment to his bride, and slipped his arm around Blaise’s waist to pull her close. “We’re passionate about all we undertake, but most especially about each other.”

Blaise smiled, as though delighted by her husband’s words, but unable to abide Trane’s knowing stare, she glanced toward the fourth hangar. Unlike the other three on the base, the huge double doors were shut, and no mechanics could be heard working inside. An eerie shiver coursed down her spine, and she felt certain the Phantom was the ship Dez believed it to be.

“It’s a beautiful morning for a test flight,” she said. “Shall we get underway?”

Trane’s laugh was a rich, rolling baritone that echoed in her mind with an unsettling hum. She raised her hand to her temple, and with a light bit of massage tried to rub it away. “We need to get our helmets from my Scorpion,” she reminded the men.

“Of course, get them and we’ll go.” Trane waited for them, then led them through the wide doors of the third hangar, where a team of mechanics was working on a shuttle. He provided the necessary security code and a door in the common wall between the third and fourth hangar slid open. The lights came on in the end hangar, and there, fueled and ready to fly, the Phantom sat waiting for a pilot.

When Mari had suggested a return to Stealth technology, Dez had thought it an intriguing if unlikely prospect, but rather than having a gleaming hull, the Phantom was finished in a dull black that instantly called the Stealth ships to mind. Its broad triangular shape was similar to the Eclipse, but its low silhouette cast a totally unique shadow against the far wall. Without markings of any kind to mar the darkness of its hull, it looked both fast and forbidding.

Blaise noted the same details as Dez, as well as the fact that a second set of wide double doors partitioned the hangar at midpoint. When Trane walked to the front of the hangar to enter the code to open the main doors, Blaise quickly tugged on Dez’s hand. “They’ve closed off the rear of this hangar for a reason,” she whispered. “From the air, it was plain it’s as large as the others, so there’s plenty of room to hide an Eclipse or two.”

“Come with me,” Dez asked. “Let’s walk around the ship and pretend we’re just viewing it from all angles.”

Blaise followed, and they did give the ship a close perusal, but when she glanced back toward the closed-off portion at the rear of the hangar, she was nearly overcome by a strangely familiar sensation.

She held her breath, savoring its scent and taste until there was absolutely no doubt in her mind what her senses were telling her. Trane was too close for her to relay her discovery to Dez, but she was confident she had the answer she had been seeking.

As Trane began the security code to open the hatch, she moved to his elbow. “This ship doesn’t look that much different from a Lancer or Scorpion. What makes it so special?” she asked, and just as she had hoped, Trane hurried the security sequence before responding. She had always excelled at math and an eight-digit code was no challenge at all to remember.

“It has a great deal more power,” Trane explained, “but you’ll appreciate that as soon as we’re in the air.” Pleased by her interest, he smiled and gestured for her to precede him up the ramp.

As she started by him, Trane ran his hand over the gentle swell of her bottom. He did it with such finesse that by the time she turned to tell him how little she appreciated his fondling, he had already clasped his hands behind his back. He stood there observing her with such sly amusement, she knew she had not just imagined the surreptitious caress, but Dez had bent down to study the Phantom’s landing gear and she knew he hadn’t witnessed anything untoward. It would merely be her word against Trane’s, and because she dared not make him any more suspicious of her than she suspected he already was, she had to resort to an angry glare and let it go at that.

Once inside the ship, she immediately discovered it had room for a four-man crew rather than only two, as other scout ships did. Puzzled, she asked Trane the reason for the change as soon as he and Dez had come aboard.

“The extra seats are merely for observers during the testing phase,” Trane replied. “Ideally, the ship will be flown by a lone pilot who’ll sight and claim new territory for Tierradyne. I’ll take her up, and then give each of you a chance to fly her. She’s a magnificent ship, and I know you’ll be very favorably impressed.”

Dez was already impressed, and quickly scanned the instrument panel searching for gauges that would indicate the Phantom had remarkable capabilities. He was badly disappointed to find nothing in the least bit unusual, let alone extraordinary. He pulled on his helmet, sat back to fasten his seat belt, and hoped Trane was so proud a man he would show off the Phantom’s true purpose without several weeks of coaxing.

Trane donned a copper-colored helmet and accessed the navigational computer, which responded in a voice identical to his. He notified the tower of his intentions to test the Phantom, floated the ship out of the hangar, and then fired the engines to send the sleek, black ship up over the base in a split second. He flashed a grin and then raised his hands from the controls. “She’s all yours, Major. Let’s see if you’re worth what I intend to pay you.”

Readily accepting the challenge, Dez pulled the Phantom up and away from Zareba, where he had the room to play without fear of again slamming into the forest. The ship responded so easily, he loosened his grasp on the controls. “She handles well,” he decided after flying her only a few minutes.

Trane turned to look over his shoulder at Blaise, who was seated behind Dez. “Yes, she’s like a woman. If you know how to treat her, she’ll be your slave.”

Blaise frowned, and in the next instant a strange navigational chart flashed across her mind. It was a map of the universe on clear panels that glowed with an inner light. Where had she seen it? she wondered.

Unwilling to allow her mind to drift as it had at the wedding, she sat up straight and watched what Dez did. She was determined they’d not spend that night in bed, when the hangar where the Phantom was housed was so much more inviting.

Chapter Nineteen

Dez and Trane began to swap stories of perilous test flights, leaving Blaise to peer between their shoulders in a desperate attempt to be included. She still wasn’t. She did not think it was merely a matter of rank either, but of both men ignoring her worth as a pilot, and dismissing her as an attractive woman they’d shower with attention, and in Trane’s case, unwanted attention, later.

Furious with them for neglecting her, she leaned forward again and studied the instrument panel as thoroughly as Dez had earlier. If the ship were fitted with any special weaponry, it wasn’t apparent from scanning the instruments. That meant that if this were the ship used to hijack the Eclipse, the computer that spoke with Trane’s refined accent was responsible. Puzzled, she closed her eyes to shut out the men’s conversation. The luminous star chart appeared in her mind’s eye in all its shining brilliance. She shook the unaccountably disturbing image away, but still had a long wait before Dez traded places with her and gave her a turn to fly.

She stifled the impulse to push the experimental ship to its maximum speed, instead performing a series of basic maneuvers in a relaxed style. She could feel Trane watching her every move and did not have to glance his way to know he was wearing a sly smirk. He had an amazing array of expressions, nearly all of them sexually suggestive and therefore offensive in her opinion. Again, she had to fight to focus on her task rather than Trane. A miscalculation at the speed they were traveling could be fatal, and she found it easier to keep her thoughts off him in the sky than it had been on the ground.

“There isn’t anything tentative about your approach, Lieutenant,” Trane observed. “I must say, I’m both surprised and extremely pleased that you don’t suffer from the lack of confidence it takes many pilots years of experience to build. Pilots are a clannish lot. The fact that you graduated from Aurora’s academy rather than from our own will probably be a source of friction, but I expect you to do extremely well in spite of that. Take us back to the base; we’ll join the others for lunch.”

Having flown there in her Scorpion, Blaise knew the coordinates and made a swift return to the base. She received permission to land from the tower, cut the power, and drifted in with an eagle’s grace. “You want the Phantom in the hangar?” she asked.

“Please.”

Blaise returned it to the precise spot where they’d found it. Dez opened the hatch, and she bounded out before Trane had an opportunity to touch her again. She removed her helmet and shook out her hair. She hadn’t had time to braid it that morning, and hoped it wasn’t too tangled. Dez put his arm around her shoulders as they waited for Trane to close the main doors.

“He wasn’t just trying to flatter you,” Dez whispered. “You were very good.”

Blaise acknowledged his compliment, but her glance strayed to the rear of the hangar. Again she felt the same heightened awareness she had experienced earlier. Before she could reveal her suspicions, Trane rejoined them and they made the detour through the third hangar out onto the field. He had left his helmet in the Phantom; Dez and Blaise returned theirs to her Scorpion.

“We’ll have to make arrangements to return your ship to an Aurora base,” Trane said. “I wouldn’t want them to believe you’ve stolen the Scorpion and prosecute you for piracy.” ‘

“Neither would I,” Blaise assured him, but she would endeavor to delay whatever plans he made. Having the Scorpion at their command would enable them to escape should they have to flee suddenly. At the miserable rate they were progressing, however, their escape seemed far away. Still, she didn’t want to compromise their chances for success by losing the high-speed craft.

“Our officers’ mess has a talented chef,” Trane enthused as they entered the administrative complex where they’d talked the previous day. “I doubt you took much note of the refreshments at your reception, but he never fails to delight us with his artistry.”

All Blaise wanted was to be alone with Dez so they could plan how to get back into the Phantom’s hangar unobserved, but after having had only tea for breakfast, she was too hungry to refuse Trane’s hospitality. The officers’ mess was paneled in dark wood, and forest green carpeting heightened the thoroughly masculine decor. The tables were set for either four or six, and a group who had eaten earlier were enjoying a noisy game of cards at their table. While there were a few women present, the low hum of deep male voices gave ample evidence what gender was in the majority.

Blaise chose fresh fruit and steamed vegetables for lunch, which even a novice in the kitchen could prepare, but she did find the rolls and muffins so moist and flavorful she had to agree the chef was accomplished. She couldn’t remember a single name of those she had met at their wedding reception and was forced to glance at their name tags whenever someone stopped by their table. Despite Trane’s prediction, all held Dez in such high regard none were rude to her.

When they had finished eating, Trane announced the plans for the afternoon. “I would be remiss if I didn’t insist upon your completing our basic course of training, Lieutenant. You’ll obviously have no difficulty, but as a precaution, I want you to begin this afternoon. Because this is a base that does advanced testing, we don’t conduct any introductory classes, but Nerine can provide you with the programmed materials and a quiet room in which to study them on your own.”

Blaise glanced toward Dez, whose carelessly relaxed pose made it clear he was not going to offer any objection to their being separated. “Fine. Just tell me where to find her and I’ll get started.”

Trane nodded toward the doorway where Nerine was waiting. “I asked her to meet us. You can either return here this evening, or have your meals sent to your quarters. If I don’t see you again, enjoy your day.”

Blaise understood she was being dismissed. She rose and left, without pausing to give Dez the kiss she knew might have been cheered by the other men in the comfortable room, but also undoubtedly seen as most unprofessional. Nerine took her to a windowless room on the second floor usually used for briefings. Painted a rich cream color, it was furnished with chairs padded in a warm beige, each with its own small desk. The stark, institutional character of the decor was relieved by a copper line that danced around the walls in whimsical, spinning loops.

Using a remote control, Nerine keyed up the first lesson of Tierradyne’s basic flight course and the title appeared on the screen at the front of the room. She put the program on pause and handed the remote to Blaise. After Blaise was seated, she leaned back against the adjacent desk and braced herself on her arms. “You’ll find the instruction entertaining, but take breaks as often as you like and help yourself to the snacks in the officers’ mess.

“Thank you; I will.”

Nerine pursed her lips as though she were carrying on a brief silent debate, and then broke into a friendly smile. “I couldn’t help but notice how you repeatedly avoided Trane at your wedding. I hope you haven’t taken a dislike to him. He can do a great deal to advance your career if he likes you, and it seems obvious that he does. If you’re wise, you’ll encourage his affection and take advantage of everything he has to offer.”

Shocked, Blaise didn’t quite know what to make of Nerine’s advice. “I intend to have as cordial and professional a relationship as possible with everyone here, Ms. Lowe. I don’t give a damn whether or not Trane likes me when the only consideration ought to be the quality of my work.”

Disappointed in Blaise’s response, Nerine straightened up and raised her hands in a helpless gesture of surrender. “Please, I didn’t mean to insult you. I simply assumed you were like most pilots and took your pleasures wherever you found them.”

“On my honeymoon?”

Believing Blaise was making a joke, Nerine responded with laughter. “Yes, I suppose the timing is inappropriate, but Trane is worth enjoying, whatever the occasion.”

This was easily one of the most peculiar conversations Blaise had ever had. “Do you make a habit of sharing your lovers?”

“Only when they’re as deliciously decadent a diversion as Trane, but I imagine your new husband is too. When the first blush of wedded bliss begins to fade from your cheeks, perhaps you’ll send him my way while you amuse yourself with Trane.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I meant every word of my wedding vows. I’ve no intention of ever sharing Dez with another woman. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get started on this assignment.” Blaise hit the remote button to begin viewing the program, and the Tierradyne crest filled the screen. The Earth and moon on a starry field, it instantly brought to mind the haunting navigational charts that kept surfacing in her mind. She made a mental note to ask Dez about them later.

Nerine shrugged. “Well, your loss is my gain, and I don’t mind enjoying Trane’s considerable talents a while longer.” She left the room with a light, bouncing step as though she intended to proposition him right away.

Disgusted by their exchange, Blaise watched the screen for a few minutes, found the instruction far below her level of expertise, and quickly grew bored. She sorted through the contents of the desk, looking for pen and paper. She intended to doodle rather than take notes, but the first thing she found herself writing was the code for the Phantom’s hatch: 20181145. She and Blair had often played with codes, and as she studied the eight digits, she recombined them in her mind to 20,18,11,4,5. Matching those numbers with their alphabetical equivalents yielded a single word: Trkde.

Certain that wasn’t correct, she rearranged the numbers in another grouping: 20,18,1,14,5. This time, the numbers spelled “Trane.”

“Egotistical sonofa-bitch,” she murmured. She quickly wrote Mardag, which would be 13,1,18,4,1,7, tore off her calculations, folded the scrap of paper, and shoved it deep into her pocket. Believing there was an excellent chance Trane had used his last name for the hangar code, she had another vital clue to share with Dez.

She scooted down in her seat. While she wasn’t used to taking naps in the afternoon, she was tired, and would rather sleep than attend to lessons she had had memorized for years.

Blaise didn’t see Dez again until evening. He had already showered and ordered dinner delivered to their apartment. “I’d hoped you’d rather stay in than eat with half the base.”

Blaise was anxious to talk with him, but didn’t feel comfortable doing it there. She gave him a big hug. “You were right. I prefer your company to that of anyone on this base.”

“Especially Trane?”

“It shows, doesn’t it?”

Dez nibbled an earlobe. “Yes, and since we’re merely visiting here, you ought to try harder not to insult him.”

Blaise slipped out of his arms. She knew he was right, and worse yet, she knew she had blatantly encouraged Trane and felt responsible for his continued unwanted overtures. “Yes, I’ll try. Nerine was hoping we’d want to go in for a little mate swapping. I told her I wasn’t interested. I hope that doesn’t disappoint you.”

Dez reached out to grab her hand and pulled her back into a confining embrace. “Wait a minute. Did you just say what I think you did?”

Blaise nodded. “She described Trane as ‘deliciously decadent.” Whatever that means, but I think she would have said anything to get me out of the way and have a chance at you.“

“I swear, women always have far more interesting conversations than men ever do.”

“That’s only because we consider men such an exciting subject to discuss.”

“Yes, I suppose that’s the key, but I’ve no interest in Nerine or any other woman. I don’t want you worrying needlessly that I will.”

Blaise raised her chin proudly. “I’m not worried.”

“Well, I wouldn’t recommend overconfidence either.”

“How does a laser blast to the groin sound to you?”

“Excruciatingly painful.”

“Then I’d advise you not to risk it.” Blaise was only teasing and he knew it, but then she was overcome with curiosity. “We stowed our lasers with my Scorpion’s emergency gear. Do you suppose they’re still there?”

Dez sucked in a deep breath. “I sincerely doubt it.”

“Yes, I’m afraid they were confiscated, too. Damn. We should have brought them with us. Well, I’m going to take a shower before dinner, even if I don’t have anything more exciting to wear.” She took a step away and then turned back.

“Dez, for some reason, I keep seeing, or remembering, rather, star charts on acrylic or crystal panels. They’re lit from within as though they’re merely decorative rather than used for serious navigation. I can’t recall where I’ve seen them, though. Do they sound familiar to you?”

“No. Sorry.”

Disappointed, Blaise frowned unhappily. “After being cooped up all afternoon, I’d like to go for a walk after dinner. It’s going to be another lovely night.”

Dez knew a romantic stroll wasn’t what she had in mind, but he also knew he couldn’t stall her need to investigate indefinitely. “I’ll look forward to it,” he promised, but it was a flat-out lie.

Blaise gripped Dez’s hand tightly as they walked through the garden. The twilight was deepening around them and the tiny solar bulbs were coming to life with a bright twinkle. “I’m worried anything we say inside may be overheard, and I won’t risk it. When we were in the Phantom’s hangar this morning, I could sense Blair’s presence as strongly as I feel yours now. I don’t believe he and Koby are being held in the detention wing, but in the closed-off portion of the fourth hangar.”

“That’s good news then,” Dez assured her. “The only question is, how do we get inside to conduct a search?”

Blaise quickly explained she had memorized the code Trane had used to open the Phantom’s hatch. “If he followed the same pattern, and I believe he did, then he used his last name for the code on the hangar doors.”

Dez stopped abruptly and with a quick tug on Blaise’s arm, swung her around to face him. Infuriated, he had a difficult time reining in his temper. “Is memorizing secret codes simply a habit of yours, or do you regard it as a special skill?”

Blaise knew exactly what was bothering him, and unabashedly confronted him with it. “I’ll readily agree that watching you enter the codes for the Eclipse was a breach of trust, but I have certainly paid as dearly for that error as you, and I’d appreciate it if you left the incident in the past where it belongs. It just so happens that I have an excellent memory where figures are concerned. I can memorize at a glance what others need several minutes of concentrated study to recall. In this case, it works to our advantage, so let’s put what I’ve learned to good use and not argue about how I did it.”

While Dez knew she was right, he doubted he could ever forgive her for taking advantage of him, and that’s precisely what it had been when she had memorized a code she ought never to have seen. “I’ll admit I was at fault, too,” he offered grudgingly. “My affection for you made me careless. We’re both to blame for the resulting breach of security.”

“I’ve never tried to deny my guilt.”

“No, I didn’t mean that you had. It’s just, well, just talking about codes brings back abysmal feelings I’d rather not suffer through again.”

“Neither would I!” Blaise agreed. “Assuming the security at this base operates on eight-hour shifts, let’s wait until 2300 hours to try and enter the hangar. The last hour of their shift, the guards ought to be sleepy and inattentive.”

While he was still upset, Dez had to admire Blaise’s unwavering determination. “All right. That sounds good to me too. Once we’re inside the hangar, we’ll have to break the code for the security panel on the doors at mid-point. Any ideas what Trane might have used as a code word for them?”

Blaise returned to his side and looping her arm through his, encouraged him to keep walking with her. The night air was heavy with perfume, but she was too engrossed in their task to appreciate the delicious fragrance borne on the gentle breeze. “Trane has an audacious streak. He almost dares people, or at least me, to defy him, so I believe he would have again chosen a word that would be a secret insult. It might be Aurora, or Eclipse, or some other sly joke only he would appreciate. I think we better just plan on using the tools in the Scorpion to disengage the security panel and let ourselves in that way.”

“I know how to fly spacecraft crammed full of expensive electronic gear, but I sure as hell don’t tamper with it. Do you know how to disengage a security panel without setting off an alarm?”

Blaise glanced away toward a bank of sparkling lights. “I’d like your promise that you won’t be angry again if I admit that I do.”

Dez did have to fight to muffle a sudden burst of temper, but succeeded. “You have a truly amazing array of talents, Blaise. I knew you were a skilled mechanic, so I suppose it shouldn’t come as a shock you’ve pushed your talents in other directions, but somehow it does.”

“It just isn’t what you expect from a woman, is it?”

“No, I suppose not.”

“Perhaps when I have some harrowing aerial adventures to relate, you’ll have more respect for me.”

Dez again yanked her to a halt. “Did it bother you that Trane and I wanted to compare our ‘adventures,” as you call them?“

“No, not at all, but being ignored as though I weren’t even there certainly did. I knew you were trying to lull his suspicions by cultivating his friendship, but still, you could have included me in the effort.”

Dez opened his mouth to argue that she was being much too sensitive, then thought better of it. “You’re absolutely right on both counts. I was so busy trying to make friends with Trane, who still makes my skin crawl, by the way, that I was rude to you and I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. Now if you know how to disengage security panels, we’ll be that much closer to finding Blair, and the Eclipse, and I won’t criticize you for it. Hell, I’m grateful. I’m just surprised, is all.”

Remaining on the garden path, Blaise had a ready explanation. “My father’s an able administrator, while my mother loves art, music, and most especially preparing gourmet meals. Blair and I didn’t take after either of them, and instead had talent in math, science, and engineering, along with an abundance of mechanical aptitude.

“We were still small children when we began taking our toys apart and reassembling them, sometimes in unique ways. As we grew older, it was a simple step to move up to the household appliances. I hate to admit this, but we learned how to dismantle the security panels on our home so we could stay out past the curfew our parents set for us without tripping the alarms.”

Dez gave an admiring whistle. “Now why didn’t I think of that?”

Blaise kissed his cheek. “Being without a father, I imagine you had a very protective attitude toward your mother, and wouldn’t have dreamed of tricking her.”

This time when Dez drew her to a halt, he enveloped her in a warm embrace. “You’re wise beyond your years, Blaise Quinn, and you continually amaze me.

Blaise rested her head against his shoulder. “I had the advantage of having a twin, and picked up twice the knowledge I would have on my own. I’m sorry you had such little opportunity to know Blair. He’s a remarkable young man.”

What Dez remembered was a handsome young man with an obnoxious attitude, but he was far too wise himself to admit that. “Yes, I’m sure he is,” he said instead. He peeked at his watch, and could think of only one thing he wanted to do before they stormed the Phantom’s hangar. “Let’s go home,” he whispered seductively.

Blaise stepped back. What he had in mind was plain in the soft light in his eyes. She could not have mistaken his purpose. “I know we’re supposed to be newlyweds, but—”

“We are newlyweds,” Dez corrected. “What’s wrong?”

Blaise shook her head. “Nothing. Everything. This just isn’t the time to lose ourselves in each other.”

“That all depends on how you look at it. I’d say it’s a damn good time to make love.” He barely brushed her lips with his own, then kissed her lightly and with an aching tenderness. “With the future so uncertain,” he whispered, “this might be our only time to be together.”

“That’s unfair.”

“I could say the same of you. I’m your husband, Blaise. Why are you so astonished that I want you?” He slid his hands from her waist to her hips to press her pelvis against his and there was no mistaking his need. “You’re my only link with reality here, my one true friend. I doubt I’d still be alive if you hadn’t found me in the forest, and I’d like to repay you in the most imaginative way I can.”

Blaise raised her arms to encircle his neck. “I think we ought to walk right out on the field, check the Scorpion to see if our lasers are still on board, and while we’re at it, I’ll pick up the tools I’ll need later.”

Unable to think of anything but how badly he wanted her with her standing so close, Dez took her wrists in his hands and pushed her away. He didn’t want to believe she was merely using him to rescue her brother, but the possibility pained him greatly. “You’ve always been relentless, haven’t you?”

“When I want something very badly, yes, and so are you.”

She had him there. Dez nodded. “Yes. Come on, let’s hurry, then there still might be time to—”

“Oh no,” Blaise said. “I don’t want to ever rush being with you.”

Her voice held a sultry promise that made Dez moan with desire. “When we get away from here, I’m going to take you on an extended honeymoon to some romantic place where we can make love at any hour of the day or night without ever having a single instant of conflict.”

When they left Zareba, Blaise fully expected to annul their marriage. She didn’t understand how Dez could start planning a honeymoon now. This was no time to rush a much-needed discussion of the future, however. “Let’s just take this one day at a time,” she cautioned.

Dez swore. “I know that’s wise, but I can’t help it if I want more.”

Blaise couldn’t even consider what she wanted while Blair wasn’t free. Certain she had made that point with Dez, she kept silent until they reached the edge of the field, where a truly astounding sight greeted them. “My God, what’s that?” she cried.

It looked to Dez like an empty cable spool, with two circular disks, perhaps eight feet in diameter, con nected by a four-foot cylinder, but the circular ends were functioning as wheels and it was rolling along, the central core flashing lights and emitting a series of irregular beeps as it paused in front of the hangars. “I’ve never seen anything like it, but it looks as though it’s some kind of a security robot making its rounds. Let’s watch and see if it follows a predictable pattern and timetable.”

Blaise cursed under her breath as a second security spool rolled into view from the opposite end of the field. “Why did I expect this to be easy when every damn thing goes wrong for us?”

“Hush, let’s not get frantic until we know what it is we’re up against.”

As they watched the spools roll around the field, they were soon able to discern a predictable pattern as intricate as a beautifully choreographed ballet. Forming a huge circle, the spools traced the perimeter of the field, traveling in opposite directions, then danced down the middle in a graceful, interwoven spiral maneuver reminiscent of the double helix of the DNA molecule. When they reached the end of the field closest to Dez and Blaise, the spools rolled to opposite corners and then started back up the field, crossing paths in the center and traversing a giant X to reach the corners at the top of the field near the mines.

“Come on,” Dez coaxed, “give us the circles again.”

The spools’ monotonous beeps changed pitch slightly, but rather than the circular pattern they had at first observed, the security probes began a jagged series of abrupt right-angle turns forming a saw-toothed border down the sides of the field. Then they began to retrace wide, circular paths. Fascinated by the unusual contraptions, Dez and Blaise watched until the spools had again repeated the same sequence twice.

“A circle, spirals, a cross to opposite corners, and finally, sharks’ teeth,” Dez analyzed aloud.

“Sharks’ teeth?”

Dez drew a jagged line in the air. “What do you want to call it, a saw blade, a zigzag?”

“No, sharks’ teeth is far more descriptive and definitely apropos. Let’s time the patterns. If there’s enough time to get to the Scorpion, we can wait inside until they’re at the opposite end of the field to start the spiral before entering the hangar.”

“Wait just a minute,” Dez cautioned. “We don’t know enough about the spools’ capabilities, and until we’ve had a chance to observe how they behave when they identify an intruder, I’m not taking another step closer. A miscalculation might prove fatal.”

“Wonderful! What do you suggest we do, camp out here every night until an intruder conveniently presents himself?”

Dez would have been offended by her sarcasm had he not already had a better plan. “No. We haven’t time to wait for someone who might never appear. Come on, let’s go pay Trane a visit. We can just say we went out for a walk, saw the spools, and quite naturally curious as to what they are, want him to provide an explanation.”

At the mention of Trane’s name, Blaise’s heart fell even further. “I suppose that’s plausible,” she offered without enthusiasm.

Dez laced her fingers in his. “He’s trying so hard to be cordial. Let’s pretend we’re in an equally friendly mood.”

Blaise still hung back slightly. “What if Nerine is there? You don’t suppose we might have to join in their sex games to convince them of our sincerity, do you?”

“No!” Dez assured her emphatically. “If we were trained in undercover work, we might regard our sexual prowess as merely another weapon in our private arsenal, but we’re a rogue operation here, Blaise, and we can set our own limits. As far as I’m concerned, neither of us is going to prostitute themselves to get even a particle of information. Agreed?”

His determination was plain in the stubborn set of his jaw. She did not doubt he had sufficient resolve to back up his intentions, but she couldn’t make the same promise. “If it meant Blair’s life, or yours, I’d consider having to sleep with Trane a small sacrifice.”

Dez put his hands on her shoulders and instantly felt how she was trembling. Her words might be brave, but clearly she wasn’t as detached as she boasted. He softened his tone. “Don’t even think of sex with him as an option. You’re my wife, and I value your honor as highly as my own. I won’t have you compromised.”

Blaise sighed unhappily. “Naturally I hope it won’t come to that either.”

“It won’t,” Dez repeated more forcefully. “Now come on, let’s visit Trane. If he so much as winks at you, we’ll leave.”

Dez slipped his arm around her shoulders, and after a last glimpse of the strange rolling spools, Blaise walked with him to the index at the entrance of the quarters. “I didn’t realize Trane lived so close to us,” she murmured apprehensively.

“Sort of ruins the neighborhood, doesn’t it?” Dez teased.

“Definitely!” Blaise didn’t understand how Dez kept his spirits so high, but admiring him enormously, she quickened her step as they made their way along the path to Trane’s suite.

Trane answered the door wearing only a pair of black silk pants. He appeared surprised to find the couple on his doorstep, but quickly recovered. “Come in,” he urged. “Sit down and make yourself comfortable while I grab a shirt.”

“We didn’t mean to disturb you,” Dez apologized, “and we won’t stay long. We just had a question about the base security.”

“Fine.” Trane gestured expansively to welcome them to his home, then hurried down the hall to his bedroom to don the shirt he’d mentioned.

Blaise turned slowly, then regarded Dez with wide-eyed wonder. The walls of the living area were crystal panels, whose delicate star charts were lit from within. The carpet and furnishings were red, giving the whole room a passionate glow. There was music playing, but the soothing tones failed to ease her dismay. “I’ve never been here before,” she whispered. “I swear I haven’t.”

Dez urged her to take a seat beside him on the long couch, and kept hold of her hand. Since their arrival on Zareba, they had seldom been apart, and during those times he had usually been with Trane. He certainly couldn’t accuse her of betraying him within a day of their wedding, but finding the glowing star panels there disturbed him as greatly as it did her. “It’s probably just a coincidence,” he replied. “The panels are undoubtedly used elsewhere on the base.”

Blaise shook her head, but didn’t argue. This was where she had been, she was sure of it, but why weren’t her memories of the visit as clear as the deeply etched pattern of stars that surrounded them? Terrified, she clung to Dez’s hand, hoping that Trane would think her merely an affectionate bride rather than the nearly hysterical woman she was.

Chapter Twenty

Trane returned wearing a loose-fitting black knit shirt over his silk pants. He was broad-shouldered but lean. His casual attire revealed more of his angular frame than his uniforms had, and gave his motions a reptilian grace. He opened a low cabinet and produced a deep blue bottle with a sensuously rounded base and tall slender neck.

“This liqueur is produced by an ambitious group of frontier colonists. Some critics claim the bottle is the real work of art, but I’m extremely fond of it. May I pour you some?” Trane raised a delicate blue glass in invitation.

“Yes, please,” Dez replied.

Blaise felt she definitely needed something to calm her nerves, and smiled. “Yes, please, I’d like some too.” When Trane handed her a glass, his fingertips brushed her wrist in a light caress as he drew away and she knew it had been intentional. His touch burned her skin with a fiery shame and she quickly took a sip of the liqueur to hide her lingering distress. Colorless, it reflected the midnight blue of the glass. Warm and sweet, it slid down her throat with a languorous ease that was immediately relaxing.

“This tastes as good as candy.”

Amused, Trane smiled slyly between sips and continued to study her reaction with a heated gaze. “Yes, it does, but not like any confection I’ve ever sampled. Can you identify the flavor?”

At a loss, Blaise looked to Dez, who breathed in the delicate aroma of the delectable liqueur. “The scent reminds me of the passionflower. Is it made from passion fruit?”

Trane shrugged slightly. “The makers refuse to divulge the ingredients, but you may very well be correct. I’ll have to order some passionflowers to add to our gardens, and then we can attempt to duplicate this exquisite taste on our own. I’m so pleased that you like it.”

Dez wasn’t nearly as fond of the taste as Trane and Blaise, but he hadn’t come there to discuss their preferences in liqueurs and moved right to the subject occupying his mind. “Blaise and I were out walking just now and saw what looked to us like gigantic spools dancing around the field. Neither of us has ever seen anything like them, and we wondered just what their function is.”

“Dancing spools,” Trane repeated, his eyes brightening. “That’s a much more imaginative name than I bestowed on my invention. I enjoy playing with robotics, and the security wheels are just one of my toys. They patrol the field at night and have proven extremely effective. When I arrived, there was constant trouble with the petty theft of tools and machinery from the hangars. It was merely a nuisance rather than a tremendously expensive problem, but my security wheels soon put a stop to the pilfering.”

“I’m impressed,” Dez complimented sincerely. “Is Tierradyne going to manufacture the wheels for their other bases?” Trane got up to replenish their glasses as well as his own before replying. “I’m not under contract to Tier-radyne as an inventor, so the patent on the wheels is my sole property. I have considered granting the patent rights to a manufacturing firm for sale to all the intergalactic corporations, but these are merely test models, and I may modify them further before putting them into production. Then again, I may keep them as amusing pets and never do anything more with them.”

“Just what are their capabilities?” Dez asked.

“May I assume this is merely a matter of intellectual curiosity rather than an attempt on your part to subvert our base’s security?” Trane’s comment was addressed to Dez, but he was still regarding Blaise with open admiration.

Dez laughed as though Trane had been joking. “Of course. I’ll be flying out of this base, and I want the spacecraft maintained properly, and secure between flights.”

“I’m sure you’re thinking of my welfare as well,” Blaise added.

Dez brought her hand to his lips and placed a gentle kiss in her palm. “Yes, my darling, that goes without saying.”

Trane watched their affectionate exchange with genuine enjoyment. “You’re such a charming pair. I do hope you’ll drop in on me often. Now let’s see, where were we? Ah yes, you wanted to know the wheels’ capabilities. They’re equipped with optical sensors that read the codes on the hangar doors and sound an alarm when they detect the security has been compromised. There are alarms on the doors, of course, but the wheels provide an additional level of surveillance. They also free up the personnel who would have been assigned as guards for other duties.”

“Do the wheels merely sound an alarm when they discover someone in the process of tampering with a door?” Blaise didn’t appreciate being observed so closely, but feigned an innocence she hoped would pass for simple curiosity.

Trane sat back in his chair and paused a long moment before answering. “The wheels are programmed to respond in escalating stages. First they would sound an alarm, issue a warning, and summon a guard. If anyone were so foolish as to attempt to flee, they would fire to stun them. If that didn’t bring instant obedience to their commands, they would respond with laser fire, but naturally, I assume once stunned, the culprit would be immobilized and a guard would handle an arrest.”

“So the lasers are fired as a last resort?” Dez inquired. “I’d hate to go out on the field for an early flight and find dead bodies littered all over.”

“So would I,” Trane agreed with a shudder. “What a distasteful scene that would be.”

“Can they be controlled by the tower should someone come in for a night landing?” Blaise asked.

“Yes, they’re programmed to park themselves in opposite corners should that happen. That’s one of the beauties of the wheels. They accept direction so much more readily than human guards.”

“Personally, I think your wheels are a delight to observe,” Blaise said. “I’m surprised no one comes out at night just to sit at the edge of the field and watch them roll through their patterns.”

Trane arched a brow. “Really? Perhaps I should organize a festival of some sort and feature the wheels as part of the entertainment.”

“Yes,” Dez agreed. “Why not?”

Trane responded with a low chuckle. “We haven’t gotten quite that bored here, Major, but I’ll remember your suggestion should we ever need a new source of entertainment. Are your quarters comfortable?”

“Yes, very, and I’m fascinated with the variety of decor,” Blaise replied when Dez squeezed her hand to encourage her to answer. “Aurora decorates its apartments in neutral shades and while they’re not unattractive, they can’t match the beautiful interiors I’ve seen here.”

“It’s a matter of philosophy,” Trane insisted. “Tierradyne encourages individuality in all our endeavors, even our living quarters.”

“Yours are especially handsome,” Dez interjected. “From what I can see, the star panels are not merely beautiful, but so accurate as to be functional as well. Are they used elsewhere on the base?”

Trane paused to savor the last sip of his liqueur, and then set his glass aside. “No. They are my own design, and are unique. I receive so many compliments on them, though, that I have considered installing them in my office.”

“Why stop there? Blaise asked. ”Like your security wheels, the star panels would appeal to a great many people. You’re very creative, Trane, and I’m sure you could earn a great deal from your talent.“

Trane shook his head, then raked his hair back into place with his fingers. “I come from a family already cursed with such considerable wealth none of us has to work for a living. Making enormous amounts of money has never appealed to me. Now I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to excuse me. I had an engagement scheduled for this evening, and I can’t possibly cancel it, although I’d much prefer to enjoy more of your company.”

“We didn’t mean to intrude,” Blaise assured him as she and Dez rose to their feet. She took Dez’s glass and placed it on the low cabinet along with hers.

“Thank you again for the liqueur. It was a rare treat.” Dez took her hand. He felt slightly dizzy and regretted having accepted a second glass of the delicious drink. “Good night. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Trane walked them to the door and bid them good night, but he had no intention of waiting until morning to enjoy more of Blaise’s company.

Blaise broke into a lilting giggle as they walked to their suite. “That liqueur was far stronger than I realized. I feel as though I’m floating. Will you check to see if my feet are still touching the ground?”

In a remarkably obliging mood, Dez bent down to look. “Yes, they are, but I feel the same way, as though my body had suddenly become weightless and I’m in real danger of drifting away.” He opened their door and swept her along inside. “I wish we really could float in the air. Just think of how many new ways there would be to make love.”

“Hmm,” Blaise breathed against his cheek. “I’ll settle for one of the old ways tonight.”

Eager to accept her invitation, Dez fumbled to undo the textured tape that secured the top of her flight suit. When he found her wearing the expensive gold necklace Trane had given her, he stepped back, yanking on the chain. “Why are you wearing this?”

Blaise raised her index finger to her lips. She had hoped they would be able to free Blair and Koby that night and she hadn’t wanted to leave the exquisite souvenir behind. The topaz earrings were in one of her many pockets.

“Don’t keep secrets from me,” Dez scolded.

Blaise glanced around the living room. As far as she was concerned, just because they were alone, didn’t mean no one was listening. She reached up to whisper in his ear. “I’d hoped we’d not be coming back here.”

Dez did not understand how she could have been so optimistic, but his mind clouded by the liqueur, he readily accepted her excuse. He released his hold on the gold chain and, taking her hand, coaxed her into the bedroom. As seductive as a candle’s glow, the shimmering star-covered walls were the perfect illumination for romance.

He pulled her into his arms, and swore, “I’ll never get enough of you.”

Rather than ask him to restate his vow as a promise, Blaise bit her lip. She tasted the delicious liqueur, and shoved away all thought of the man who had poured it. Dez was with her now, and she didn’t want thoughts of anyone or anything else to intrude on their pleasure. She was having real difficulty remaining on her feet and looped her arms around his neck for balance.

“Are we the ones who are rocking back and forth, or is it the apartment?”

Dez felt more of a rolling motion, and he knew it was all inside his head. “Your senses are as befuddled as mine,” he answered in a husky slur. “I think we better hurry out of our clothes and into bed before we get so silly we won’t remember how to make love.”

“That couldn’t possibly happen.”

“Let’s not take the risk.”

Blaise started giggling again and Dez was so amused by her playful antics as she tried to help him out of his clothes, he was soon laughing too. Their biggest predicament proved to be their boots, which just didn’t want to come off. “Sit down,” Dez ordered, but he was far too vigorous in his approach and when he yanked on Blaise’s right boot, it came off so quickly the backward momentum threw him against the wall. Jarred, and already dizzy, he slid to the floor, and couldn’t find the initiative to get himself upright again.

Blaise left the bed and crawled over to him. She was in her lingerie, her flight suit pleated around her ankles, and her left boot still in place. “Look at you,” she teased. “The dancing spools have more grace.”

“True, but not nearly as much fun.” He grabbed for Blaise and pulled her down across his lap, where he kissed her with a sloppy enthusiasm that again sent them into peals of hysterical laughter. He pulled an earlobe through his teeth, then shoved her delicate lingerie straps off her shoulders to free her breasts for tasting. Winding his fingers in the gold chain to get it out of his way, he sucked a pale nipple into his mouth and discovered her natural flavor was more luscious than any colonial concoction.

Blaise felt blissfully free, and pulled his face closer still as they seemed to hover in a loving haze above the soft blue carpet. She slid her hands down inside his flight suit and sent her fingertips wandering over his broad chest in a lazy spiral. She loved everything about Dez, his dashing good looks, his delicious taste, his heady masculine scent. Her senses swamped with desire, she lay sprawled across his lap, perfectly at home and wonderfully content.

Dez pulled his mouth from her breast long enough to kiss her, then remembering she needed help with her other boot, he began to yank on it. With Blaise offering no resistance, it flew out of his hand and struck the wall with a loud clatter. “What will the neighbors think?” he asked before burrowing his head between the seductive fullness of her breasts.

“They’ll think we must be having an awfully good time, which we are.” She nuzzled the hollow of his shoulder and made another feeble attempt to help him out of his flight suit. “You wear too many clothes,” she complained, her words punctuated by sparkling giggles,

“If I could only stand up, I could get rid of them, but my legs don’t want to cooperate. Maybe we could crawl over to the bed, and do better there.”

“Do better with what?” Blaise asked, her hand now at his groin.

Dez moaned and, placing his hand over hers, encouraged her to continue stroking him with a relaxed rhythm. He wanted to touch her too, and shoved her silken lingerie aside to begin a gentle caress that he deepened with every breath. Soon his warmly affectionate touch wasn’t enough for either of them. Between them, they peeled his flight suit down around his waist, got it tangled as they shoved it down his legs, and needed all their concentration to remove his boots so they could yank off the confining garment.

Lit by the stars’ soft light, their motions appeared haphazard and clumsy, but it was the best the usually graceful pair could manage that night. Exhausted by the effort simply to disrobe, they lay gasping on the carpet until Dez found sufficient energy to pull Blaise back into his arms. Her skin glowed with an inner radiance that captivated him anew, but his traitorous body refused to cooperate with the desire filling his heart.

“Maybe if we rest a minute,” he sighed against her throat, “our heads will clear.”

“Hmm,” Blaise murmured, and moving down beside him, she rested her head on the smooth plane of his belly. She closed her eyes, and along with her amorous, but nearly incoherent husband, fell sound asleep.

* * *

Despite what he had told Dez and Blaise, Trane had no previous commitment that night. After they had gone, he left his suite and went out to the field where he watched his security wheels perform the intricate routines which had so impressed the pair. He decided they had been right. The wheels were worth watching, but not such an amusing spectacle that he forgot what he truly wanted to do that evening.

He checked his watch and decided that enough time had transpired for the liqueur he liked to call the Devil’s Brew to have worked its magic on his guests. He was impervious to the potent liqueur himself, but it had been plain even before they had left his place that they were not immune to its power. He doubted he would need to give Dez another dose of the anesthetic spray, but preferring caution, he returned to his suite for the canister. Just as he opened his door to leave, Nerine appeared.

“Going out?” she asked. She leaned back against the doorjamb and blocked his way. She was wearing a long red dress that was slit clear to the waist. She bent her knee to expose the whole length of her leg, and puckered her lips invitingly. “I’d hoped you’d be staying home and want some company.”

Trane tried not to appear as annoyed as he was by her untimely visit. He caressed her cheek lightly. “Sorry. I’ve other plans.”

Nerine leaned out to look past him, and seeing no one in the living room, assumed he had spent the evening alone. “I could wait here for you to get home.”

“It might be quite late, Nerine.”

“You have a very comfortable bed,” she persisted. “I’ll take a nap.”

Nerine was an amusing companion, but Trane was in no mood for her kind of erotic play. “Go home and sleep in your own bed for a change.”

Finally realizing she was getting nowhere, Nerine straightened up. Her pose lost all hint of grace as she placed her hands on her hips. “It’s Blaise Quinn, isn’t it? I tried my best to impress her with your skill as a lover, but she swore she’s only interested in her husband. Why waste your time longing for someone you can’t have, when I’m more than willing to console you?”

“It’s not consoling I need; now go on home.” Trane stepped back and his door slid shut before Nerine could draw the breath to argue. He knew she would probably follow him, so he sat down and waited until he was sure enough time had elapsed for the elegant brunette to have become too bored to stalk him. He then slipped out the back door to elude her on the off chance she was still outside, and taking the long way through the gardens, went to Dez’s unit. He knew the code to override every security system on the base, and entered the digits as quickly as he had the previous evening.

When he found Blaise curled up on the floor, using her new husband as a pillow, he had to bend down to scoop her up in his arms, but he was inordinately pleased to find her wearing his necklace. The jewels glowed against her pale skin, the perfect compliment to her fair beauty. He again used the spray on Dez, then carried her out the back door and through the garden to his home.

He took her into his bedroom and lay her upon the oversized bed. The spread was the same bright red as the carpet, and he could not help but think she looked like an erotic sacrifice laid on some pagan altar. Eager to play the god in that fantasy, he peeled off his clothes, tossed them aside, and stretched out beside her. Propping his head on his elbow, he was content to observe the rise and fall of her breasts as she slept for a long while, but eventually just the luscious sight of her wasn’t enough to satisfy him.

He caressed her breasts, then trailed his hand over her stomach and down her leg. He pinched her knee. “Wake up, Blaise,” he urged softly, but immersed in her dreams, she didn’t stir. He leaned down to lick her nipples, which hardened into buds beneath the tickle of his tongue. Still she didn’t waken. Trane grasped her arm and shook her slightly, but a soft sigh was his only reward.

Knowing he was to blame for her stupor, Trane was sorry he had encouraged her to have a second glass of the Devil’s Brew. He wanted her wide awake, her eyes ablaze with a fiery light when he made love to her, and he wasn’t even tempted to satisfy himself with her lovely body while she was too intoxicated to appreciate the pleasure he intended her to share. He pulled her into his arms and sent his tongue wandering over the lush swells of her slender figure until, fearing he would fall asleep and fail to return her to her bed on time, he rose and dressed.

As he carried her back into the bedroom she shared with Dez, he hesitated a moment, then, instead of placing her on the floor where he had found her, he pulled back the covers and put her in bed. He took an evil delight in tucking her in, then gave her a last kiss, and left to enjoy his own dreams for what little was left of the night.

Several hours later, Dez came awake slowly. It was the hardness of the floor he noticed first, and for a frightening instant, he thought he was back in the forest where the ground had grown increasingly rigid beneath him. There was no sound of rustling leaves, no scent of dirt and decomposing vegetation, and no roar of the enormous cats that had kept them in constant peril. He was surrounded by silence here, his own breathing the only sound he heard. He turned, and his shoulder hit the wall, jarring him with yet another clue as to his whereabouts.

His head throbbed with a piercing ache, and he tensed against the morning light before opening his eyes. He recognized the bedroom, but not the reason for his own pitiful state. He had never been a heavy drinker, not even at the academy where the parties frequently lasted all weekend. He felt as though he had gotten very drunk, though, and must deserve the resulting pain for behaving so foolishly.

He saw some of his clothes strewn about, and others laying in a tangled heap with Blaise’s. “Blaise?” he called, his voice a hoarse rasp. There was no reply. Afraid she must be furious with him for passing out on the floor, he sat up slowly, his joints stiff, his muscles complaining with every gesture. Finally he got in a position where he could lean against the wall, and he saw Blaise asleep in the bed. Thoroughly ashamed of himself, he gradually got to his feet. Hanging on to the wall for support, Dez made his way into the bathroom, where he stood in the shower until the heated spray massaged the soreness from his body and lifted the veil of confusion from his mind.

After wrapping a towel around his hips, he raked his wet hair out of his eyes and went back to the bedroom. As he approached Blaise’s side of the bed, he noticed how neatly she was tucked in and he couldn’t imagine how she had managed the feat on her own. Thoroughly perplexed, he sat down beside her and began to stroke her hair.

“Wake up, Blaise. I’m afraid we’ve overslept.”

Blaise responded with a lazy stretch. Her lips curved in a satisfied smile and obviously feeling much better than her husband, she opened her eyes and looked up at him. “Good morning,” she murmured softly.

“How did you sleep?” Dez asked.

Blaise tried to sit up, but Dez was blocking her way. She snuggled back down under the covers. “I feel almost shamelessly rested. What about you?”

Dez had found a remedy in one of the bathroom cupboards to treat his headache, but even without the excruciating pain, he was badly worried. “What do you remember about last night?

Rebelling against the effort required to recall anything more than the immediate past, Blaise wrinkled her nose. “We had dinner here, went out to the field, saw the dancing spools, and went to ask Trane about them. Then we came home.”

“And?” Dez prompted.

Blaise covered a wide yawn. “Then we, ah, well, we must have made love and gone to bed.”

“But you don’t remember clearly?”

Trying to capture some memory of the evening, Blaise looked away for a moment, but nothing came clear. “I’m sorry, Dez. I’m sure it wasn’t your fault if the evening wasn’t especially memorable. We were both tired. I’m sure we’ll do better tonight.”

Dez was fast becoming certain that the sweet-tasting drink Trane had served them was far stronger than any liqueur. He stood. “Do you always tuck yourself in like this?” he asked.

Blaise leaned over the side of the bed and was as puzzled as Dez had been to find the covers tucked in so neatly. “I’ve never done it before. Maybe you did it.”

Dez began to pace up and down beside the bed. “No. I passed out, so you either got yourself into bed, or there’s something very strange going on here, Blaise.”

“This might not be the place to discuss it,” she warned.

“I’m willing to risk it,” Dez argued. “I woke up on the floor, which isn’t something I regularly do. I can’t explain why. Can you?”

Blaise pulled out the covers and, sitting up, used them to cover her bare breasts. She was still wearing the gold chain, which struck her as odd too. She began to play with the beautifully crafted links. “Well, you must know where you woke up, but I hope you’ll believe me when I say I’d not have left you to sleep on the floor and gotten into bed alone.”

“Yet that’s precisely where we were this morning.”

Blaise shivered slightly. “You’re right, Dez. There is something strange going on. I’d not been to Trane’s quarters before last night, but I’d been haunted by the star panels all day. Now neither of us can account for our time after we left Trane’s suite last night. We now know he’s an inventor. Do you suppose he’s found a way to play with our minds?”

“God, I hope not, but I’ve got a very bad feeling that one missing block of time will lead to others.”

“Then we can’t afford to waste another minute.” Intending to leave the bed, she pushed back the covers, but Dez quickly blocked the move. He dropped his towel and gestured for her to move over. “That’s such an excellent suggestion, I intend to take you up on it.”

Fully aroused, she didn’t have to guess what he wanted to do. “Dez!”

“Hush,” he whispered in the instant before his lips covered hers. Her resistance lasted only a heartbeat, and assured of the welcome he had sought, he nudged her legs apart with his knee. “Do you remember the first time you came to my quarters at the academy?”

Blaise ran her hands down his sides. His body had always felt so good to her, and she understood the urgency of his need completely. “It was magic,” she breathed into his mouth in a passionate surrender. Drawing him down into her arms, she encouraged him to work the same spell.

Dez entered her with a single swift, driving thrust. He felt her roll her hips, luring him deeper still and consumed by her inner fire, he plunged into her again and again until his climax burst from him in a blistering wave that rocked her as well. He held her locked in his arms until the graceful patterns she was tracing on his back began to tickle.

“Damn, but I wish I could remember last night.” Reluctantly, he withdrew. Aligning her body to the contours of his, he pulled her head down on his shoulder.

“It couldn’t have been any better than what we just shared,” Blaise assured him.

Dez didn’t argue, but he was acutely aware they had an increasing number of unanswered questions. On their wedding night, Blaise couldn’t remember getting up to put on a gold necklace that hadn’t been a gift from her husband. She’d had disturbing recollections of the detailed star charts from a room she had never entered, and now, she had awakened without having any explanation of how she had been tucked into bed so neatly, while he had been left sleeping on the floor.

The possibility that Trane Mardag might move through their home at night with such astonishing ease neither of them could recall his presence in the morning sickened Dez thoroughly. He refrained from sharing his suspicions with Blaise, but as soon as he and Trane had the Phantom aloft, he was definitely going to tell him what was on his mind.

Chapter Twenty-One

After a quick breakfast in the officers’ mess, Dez left to fly with Trane, and Blaise again went upstairs to watch the instructional tapes, although she felt they were a ridiculous waste of her time. Again her mind wandered. Desperate to find a piece of evidence that would place Blair, and Koby, there on Zareba, she put the lesson on pause, and hoped if Nerine looked in, she would assume she had taken a break. Trane hadn’t closed the main doors on hangar four while they had flown with him yesterday, and she was elated to find them standing open again.

As precocious children she and Blair had discovered that if they acted as though they belonged in a particular place, no one challenged them. Confident the same strategy would work here, she strode across the field to her Scorpion, and before removing the tool kit, searched through the emergency gear. When she found the two laser pistols were still buried among the equipment, a flood of relief washed through her.

She hoped they would not have to resort to using them, but just having weapons would give them a much needed advantage should violence be their only choice. The tool kit was packed in a roomy sachel and she slipped the pistols inside. Still looking as though she were on an official errand, she slung the handles over her shoulder and carried it into the hangar with a long, sure stride. There was no one working inside, and with the Phantom on a flight, the cavernous structure held an eerie calm.

The smell of fuel hung on the air, but it wasn’t so strong she couldn’t work there. She walked back to the double doors at the center and placed the tool kit on the floor. This security panel was of an unfamiliar design, and after careful scrutiny, she decided she would be better off deactivating it than risk triggering the alarm by using a process of elimination in an attempt to hit upon the code word.

She looked over her shoulder to make certain none of the mechanics working in the other hangars had strayed inside. Once assured she was alone, she bent down and opened the tool kit. Aurora supplied an ingenious array of tools to assist pilots when an emergency made it necessary for them to make their own repairs, and she hurriedly searched for the tiny pointed tool she needed to remove the cover of the security panel. She would then need clips to reroute the wiring, and grabbed those too.

Constantly alert for unwanted company, she paused frequently to glance out the open doors of the hangar, but no one seemed to have the slightest interest in what was happening inside and she continued uninterrupted. She got the cover off the panel in a matter of seconds. What greeted her wasn’t the standard circuitry she had expected, however, but a mechanism of such intricate design she could not even begin to understand it, let alone turn it off long enough to allow her to gain access to the rear of the hangar. Her hands were shaking as she quickly replaced the cover and returned the tools to the kit.

Again slinging it over her shoulder, she made a rapid inspection of the hangar, and found the faintly recognizable tread pattern of landing gear running right up to the barrier at the middle. There had to be another spacecraft moored in the hangar, she was badly frustrated not to be able to get to it. If the Phantom weren’t the ship used to steal the Eclipse, then it seemed likely its hangar mate was.

She placed her hands on the barrier she had been unable to broach and felt a diffuse tremor of energy. She closed her eyes and sensed not only Blair’s presence, but the certainty that something of vital importance lay beyond the midpoint. She searched the whole wall, seeking a flaw, no matter how minute, that might allow her a glimpse of what lay on the other side. Horribly discouraged when she found none, she carried the tools back to their apartment, and then returned to the briefing room where she was supposed to be studying.

She slid into her seat and restarted the tape mere seconds before Nerine peered in the door. “Yes?” Blaise called to her. “Do you need me for something?”

“No, on the contrary, I thought you might be getting bored and would want to take a break. It’s time for mine, and I thought we might as well spend it together.”

Blaise immediately shut off the tape and left her chair. “Thank you for remembering me. I know this material so well, the only challenge is to stay awake.”

Nerine studied Blaise with a jealous glance. While she could not deny she was beautiful, she didn’t see anything extraordinary about her. After all, Nerine was also tall and slender, and thought her own ebony hair and blue eyes provided a hint of mystery that was infinitely more appealing than amber eyes on a blonde. She held the door for Blaise and then offered the only challenge she could.

“I’ll give you the exams, then. If you pass them all, Trane can’t insist you view the complete course. Unless, of course, you don’t feel prepared to take the tests as yet.”

“No,” Blaise assured her with an engaging smile. “I’m sure there’s no reason to delay them. When I finish, perhaps I could watch whatever materials you have available on the maintenance of your fleet. I’ve always found being a mechanic nearly as enjoyable as flying.”

Nerine would never willingly dirty her hands, and grimaced slightly. “Let’s see how you do on the flight tests first,” she cautioned. “That will be enough for today, as we work only half-days on Saturday. You can begin the maintenance tapes on Monday.”

Blaise doubted there was anything on those tapes that she didn’t already know either, but she was hoping they might include diagrams of the curious security panel she had been unable to deactivate. She hated to have to wait until Monday, but hid her impatience to leave Zareba and succeeded in being pleasant to Nerine during their break.

Trane told Dez to practice landing the Phantom on a variety of terrain, and with the constant landings and launches, Dez had no opportunity to confront his enigmatic supervisor with his suspicions. He studied him out of the corner of his eye whenever he had a chance, but Trane was monitoring the spacecraft’s performance and appeared to be totally absorbed in the task. Deciding this was a poor time for a personal conversation that might lead to a bitter argument, Dez gave his full attention to the flight. When Trane suddenly broached the subject of Blaise, he had to fight for control of his temper, as well as the Phantom.

“I owe you an apology for last night,” Trane began, “but your bride is such a fascinating woman, I’m afraid I do an extremely poor job of keeping my feelings for her hidden. I can only hope you’ll be flattered, rather than jealous of my interest in her.”

Rather than flattered, Dez was just plain sickened by the thought of Trane ever being with Blaise, and a lengthy silence preceded his response. “I appreciate your honesty, but your obvious affection for my wife is creating an awkward situation for us all. There are a great many attractive women stationed on Zareba, and we’d be grateful if you pursued one of them. We don’t believe you’d use your position to manipulate either of us, but to avoid all possibility of impropriety, you’d be wise to channel your passions in another direction.”

Trane nodded. “I’ve just admitted I’m unable to do that, Major.” His expression grew increasingly troubled. “I wish I’d met Blaise first.”

Dez tightened his grip on the controls and wished he could put his hands around Trane’s neck. “I don’t mean to be cruel, but my wife has absolutely no personal interest in you, Trane. You’re simply deluding yourself if you believe otherwise.”

Trane’s deep chuckle rumbled through the cockpit. “I’m afraid you’re the one who is deluded, Major. The truth is, your bride enjoys my company so greatly she was nearly late for your wedding.”

When Blaise had found him on the garden path, she’d been flushed and breathless, but Dez had thought her charming blush was due to the excitement of the coming ceremony. He refused to believe Blaise could have spent a minute with Trane of her own accord. “You’re lying.”

“On the contrary, it was surprising either of us made it to the ceremony on time.” In an instant, Trane’s tone deepened from gently reminiscent to commanding. “Now, while this is an entertaining conversation, fuel is expensive, and we’ve run enough tests for today. Take us back to the base.”

Dez refused to assume the role of obedient employee. “The fact that she married me proves who’s telling the truth here, Trane. You’re attempting to drive a wedge between us in hopes you’ll be able to console Blaise. The tactic is not only tasteless, but also pathetically transparent, and neither Blaise nor I will fall for it. If I ever discover that you’ve been telling her similar lies about me, I’ll make you pay in the most painful manner possible.”

Trane brushed aside Dez’s threat with an amused laugh. “Spoken like an infatuated bridegroom, if I ever heard one.”

“Sarcasm isn’t going to get you out of this one, Trane. My wife and I are pilots. We came here to fly, and our relationship with you is going to remain strictly professional.”

“This is a small base,” Trane argued persuasively, “and I happen to believe maintaining cordial relations is what allows us to work together as effectively as we do. The fact that your wife and I are attracted to each other needn’t make you and me enemies.”

It was Dez who laughed this time. “You may have had tremendous success with other women, but my wife won’t ever be one of your conquests. She’s extremely independent, and she’d probably blacken both your eyes if you ever said anything improper to her. You can count on me to do a whole lot worse.”

Looking thoroughly bored, Trane slouched down in his seat. “I’m terrified.”

“You better be.” Dez brought the Phantom into the base and left the cockpit before Trane could suggest the three of them have lunch together, but it was only the realization that they had come there to discover the truth about the Eclipse that kept him from tearing into him right there. Blaise had told him where she’d be, and he went upstairs to find her. Nerine was waiting outside the door and raised her hand to prevent him from entering.

“She’s finishing up an exam, Major. If you’re in a hurry, I’ll tell her you came by.”

Dez leaned back against the wall, crossed his arms over his chest, and shook his head. “I can wait.”

Enormously pleased to have his undivided attention, Nerine smiled slyly. “Wonderful. How did your flight go this morning?”

Dez wanted to puke. “Extremely well, thank you.”

“Good. We have high hopes for the Phantom, and,” she added in a sultry slur, “for you.”

“Thank you, again.” Dez glanced down the deserted hallway rather than look directly at Nerine. He was still so angry with Trane he doubted he could be civil and wished she would just keep still. God, how he wanted out of there! This was only their third day at the base. Had he been swimming in a tank of worms, he could not have felt more unclean. He had never even considered undercover work as a career, and it was becoming increasingly obvious that he had made a wise choice in steering clear of any assignment involving subterfuge when it violated his own code of honor.

“There’s a party tonight in the officers’ mess,” Nerine volunteered. “Actually, there’s a party every Saturday night, but I do want to extend a special invitation to you and your bride. Please join us. There’s always a special menu, and music for dancing.”

Blaise left the briefing room before Dez had thought of a polite way to say he didn’t give a damn what the social calendar was there. He waited until she had handed her exam to Nerine and then took her arm. “We need to talk,” he told her, then turned back to wave at Nerine. “We’ll see you later.”

“I hope so,” she called after them.

“Please promise me that you didn’t make plans for us that include Nerine,” Blaise whispered. Dez shot her a dark glance that assured her he would not even consider it. Frightened, she hoped his news wasn’t as bad as hers. He was in such an agitated state, she didn’t prompt him again, but he didn’t speak until they reached the gardens and found a secluded corner not unlike the one where they had wed.

“We’re going to have to get out of here,” he then revealed, “or I’m going to kill that sonofabitch.”

Blaise listened with growing alarm as Dez recounted his conversation with Trane concerning her taste in men. While she did not want to confirm Trane’s arrogant boast that she cared for him, the story he had told Dez was too close to the truth to deny. “I did something really stupid,” she admitted reluctantly.

Dez began to swear, then caught himself when foul language seemed totally out of place in the lush gardens. This was a place for reading poetry, recounting enchanting memories, or making new ones, and as he had with Trane, he squelched his temper. “Dare I ask what it was?”

Blaise studied the toes of his boots and remembered how they had laughed the previous night trying to remove them. There was nothing humorous in their present situation, however. She made a valiant attempt to describe the scene to which Trane had referred in the most innocuous terms possible, but Dez’s continued angry scowl made it plain she had failed.

“He was being obnoxiously attentive, and to shut him up, I dared him to make me change my mind about marrying you. He responded by kissing me as though we were lovers who had been parted for at least a century, which was quite a shock, but of course nothing he could have done would have been effective. That he assumed I liked him was entirely my fault. I was being sarcastic and he reacted as though I truly wanted an excuse not to marry you.”

Dez could easily imagine Trane jamming his tongue down her throat and it sickened him all the more. “Did you?” he asked.

“No!” Blaise took several steps away and dug the heel of her boot into the grass. “I just wanted him to leave me alone, and I treated him as I would have one of the amorous cadets at the academy. Unfortunately, he’s so damn strange the tactic backfired.”

She looked as disgusted with herself as he was. Dez took a moment to compose himself before he spoke. “I accused Trane of trying to split us up, but whatever twisted motives he might have, you and I came here with a job to do, and I don’t want to get sidetracked into some stupid love triangle.”

“Neither do I!”

“Then why didn’t you tell me before now how Trane tried to convince you not to marry me?”

Blaise rolled her eyes. “Because it was my own stupid fault and I was embarrassed about it. Now let’s declare the subject closed. While I was supposed to be watching instructional tapes this morning, I used the tools from my Scorpion to remove the cover of the security panel at the midpoint of hangar four.”

“In broad daylight!”

Blaise dismissed his objection with a distracted wave. “Yes. It’s really the best time, because no one expects anyone to be sneaking around then. With the other hangars full of mechanics, and the field in use, there are no guards on duty. Now stop interrupting and just let me tell this story. I got the cover off the security panel, but it was the damnedest apparatus I’ve ever seen. It has to be Trane’s design, because it was every bit as unique as his dancing spools. I’m serious, Dez. It wasn’t any kind of technology I’ve ever seen before, and I’ve worked on enough equipment to at least recognize the principle involved when I encounter something new. I sincerely believe the man’s an alien.”

“Oh Christ!”

Blaise folded her arms over her middle. “Yes, I know, it’s a bizarre theory, but it’s the only one that logically explains Trane’s behavior and his inventions. I’ll bet that was no colonial liqueur he gave us last night either, but probably some potion he mixes in his bathtub.” She came close before continuing in a more urgent tone.

“There are tire marks leading up to the doors in the center of the hangar. The Phantom you’re flying might not be the only ship moored there, and I can’t shake the feeling that Blair is there too. I have this horrible sensation that time’s running out. Do you have any idea how we can get in the rear of that hangar without setting off the alarm if we can’t deactivate the security panel?”

Before Dez could reply, she remembered one other thing and grabbed ahold of his arm. “Our lasers were still in the Scorpion’s emergency equipment, and I took them, along with the tool kit, back to our place. We can probably open the rear of the hangar with laser fire, but it’s sure to set off every alarm on the base.”

Dez closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath of flower-scented air, but it didn’t help. He still lost his temper. “Why is it impossible for you to remember that I’m in charge here? What if you’d been caught? What possible excuse could you have given for snooping around the hangar, or carrying laser pistols?”

Disgusted by his reaction, Blaise took a step back. “Boredom would have been sufficient. Tierradyne’s idea of an instructional tape is pathetic.”

“Blaise! Damn it all, we’ve got to work together.” Dez looked past her and saw Trane coming their way. “Come here,” he ordered under his breath, “and try and look like you mean it.”

Yanked into his arms with a force that nearly snapped her neck, Blaise had no time to ask what Dez was doing before his mouth covered hers in a kiss as demanding as the one he had used to convince her they had to wed. Slow and deep, his tongue slid over hers in a ravaging kiss that he didn’t end until after Trane had noisily cleared his throat for a second time. When Dez released her, she was so dazed, she had to cling to his arm in an attempt to remain on her feet.

“Sorry to disturb you two,” Trane looked more pleased than bothered that he had had to interrupt such an amorous display. “I just received the results of the analysis of your Scorpion’s computer programs. Although the ship’s exterior was badly damaged, the computer is still operative.”

Dez held his breath and wondered if Trane would lie and report that a program deliberately sabotaging his ship had been found. “Yes, what did you discover?”

As usual, although Trane replied to Dez’s question, he focused his attention on Blaise. His glance traveled up her slender figure in a lazy perusal that lingered at the swell of her breasts before reaching her face. “Absolutely nothing, I’m afraid. Of course, we had al-ready assumed that if such a destructive program existed, once run, it would have left no trace.”

With so much going wrong, Dez found it easy to appear disappointed no evidence of sabotage had been found. “We just weren’t fast enough,” he complained.

“Don’t worry about it,” Trane assured him. “You’ve given me a sufficient demonstration of your skills to be certain pilot error didn’t cause your crash in the forest. What do you want to do about the ship? It can be returned to operable condition, but it might be a month or more before our mechanics have an opportunity to work on it. Do you want to take on the project yourselves?”

“Yes!” Blaise answered. “Let’s do it,” she urged. “It would be fun.”

Dez immediately understood the damaged Scorpion would provide an excuse for them to be on the field and in the hangars at odd hours. “You’re remarkable, Blaise,” he replied with a smile. “Most women wouldn’t want to spend their honeymoon repairing a spaceship, but if it would please you, then let’s do it.”

Blaise gave him a hug, then turned back toward Trane, wearing a radiant smirk. “We’re a perfect match.”

“Obviously,” Trane agreed without a trace of his habitual self-satisfied grin. “Nerine told me she invited you to attend tonight’s party. I do hope you’ll join us.”

Dez quickly explained to Blaise that there were parties every Saturday night, and they assured Trane they would attend. As Trane started back toward the administration complex, Dez leaned down to whisper. “Everything has just fallen into place, or gone com-pletely out of control. I hope we’ll know which by midnight.”

Blaise was watching Trane, and when he turned back to observe them, she wrapped her arms around Dez’s neck and planted a wildly enthusiastic kiss on his lips.

“What’s that for?” he asked.

“For luck.”

Dez laced his fingers in hers. “Come on, let’s get something to eat, and then see if we can come up with a plan that can’t possibly fail.”

“It’s going to be a busy afternoon,” Blaise mused darkly, and while Dez smiled as though he already had an idea, she couldn’t imagine what it was.

That evening, the officers’ mess was decorated with softly glowing scented candles, and bouquets of fresh flowers had been placed on every table. Music with a languid, romantic pulse played in the background, and several couples were dancing, their forms entwined, their faces close as they whispered the secrets lovers share. Laughter sprang up from the group near the bar, while conversations, some serious, others trivial, occupied the remainder of those in the room.

Blaise had only the long, white sheath she had worn for the wedding, and again added the elegant gold necklace and topaz earrings. Dez wore his new uniform for the second time. As they came through the door, Trane greeted them and ushered them to his table, where Nerine was already seated. Dressed in an icy blue gown whose tiny pleats softened her angular figure, she had brushed her dark curls forward to frame her eyes, and looked more feminine than they had ever seen her.

“We’re sampling the latest shipment of colonial wine,” she exclaimed. “It’s marvelous really. Would you like some?”

Dez shook his head. “I’d prefer ale. What about you, Blaise?”

Blaise pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Will you ask the bartender to make me something icy and sweet. I don’t care what. Surprise me.”

Dez leaned down to kiss her cheek, and then disappeared into the noisy crowd at the bar. Blaise leaned back in her chair and gave a small, lazy yawn. “I doubt we’ll be able to stay long. We spent a rather strenuous afternoon.”

“Have you already begun the repairs on Dez’s Scorpion?” Trane asked.

Blaise responded with a rush of throaty giggles. “No, we didn’t leave our apartment.” She watched his lips tighten in disapproval and felt a surprising burst of satisfaction. She glanced around the room and returned the waves of a couple on the dance floor. “This is a lovely party,” she cooed, “so relaxed and romantic.”

“Next week we may have gambling,” Nerine explained, “and the room will possitively vibrate with excitement. Or we might have a costume party, or our own circus. I love those. You’d be amazed by the wide array of unusual talents our people display.”

“What sort of talents?”

Nerine took a sip of wine, then ran her fingertip around the rim of her glass. “Trane likes to trap a couple of the feral panthers that live in the forest and teach them tricks. That’s always one of the most exciting acts, but we have people who do everything from complicated magic tricks to comic routines that are so wildly amusing we laugh about them for days.”

Blaise peered through the crowd at the bar, searching for Dez. “I’ll look forward to a circus then.”

Trane rested his arms on the table and leaned toward her. “I imagine you have all sorts of unique talents you might share with us.”

Turning toward him, Blaise frowned slightly. “Sorry. I can’t think of a single one.”

“Then perhaps you’d enjoy being my assistant when I work with the panthers.”

“No, thank you. I’ve already had the opportunity to see one up close, and I’d rather not risk being bitten again.”

Trane reached for her hand. “You’ll have to trust me,” he encouraged, “not to allow that to happen.”

Dez returned to the table and handed Blaise a tall glass filled with shaved ice and a pale green melon liqueur. He then slammed a glass mug down at his place and dropped into his chair. He stared at Trane’s hand, until finally Trane released his bride’s. “That’s better. I meant what I said this morning and I’d hate to have to repeat it here in front of everyone.”

“I’m sorry I missed it,” Nerine complained. “We were just discussing our talents. Trane likes to tame the panthers that dwell in the forest. Do you have any amusing hobbies you might share at our next amateur circus?”

Dez drained his mug in a single gulp, then wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. “Yeah, I’m extremely good at hand to hand combat. Maybe Trane and I could stage a fight.”

Nerine’s eyes brightened. “A fight? What a wonderful idea. We’ve never had fights here, but we could plan a whole party around that theme. I’m assuming you mean a fight without the constraints of tiresome rules, rather than a martial arts competition.”

Dez nodded. “Exactly, the wilder the better. What do you say Trane, does the chance to fight me appeal to you?”

If anything, Trane appeared to be thoroughly bored by the idea. “I’m several inches taller, undoubtedly heavier. It really wouldn’t be fair.”

Dez winked at Nerine. “A coward will use any excuse to avoid a fight. Now you’ll have to excuse me. I need another ale.”

“I really don’t think that’s wise, Dez.” Blaise rested her fingertips on his sleeve, but he brushed her hand away and lurched to his feet. She watched him weave his way to the bar and then apologized to her companions. “You’ll have to forgive him. He’s not usually as argumentative as he’s being tonight. We had such a nice afternoon. I wonder what could have upset him.”

A slow smile lit Trane’s patrician features. “My admiration of you is making him jealous. He’s from Earth after all, and obviously can’t escape being ruled by his emotions. It makes him an excellent test pilot because he can instinctively feel problems others miss, but in dealings with Skychildren, Earthmen always lose.”

“Not always,” Blaise taunted suggestively.

Trane shook his head. “It’s possible the contest is not yet over.”

“Am I missing something here?” Nerine asked, but neither Blaise nor Trane offered an explanation.

When Blaise saw Dez approaching the table, she rose to meet him. “Let’s dance,” she urged. She waited until he had set his mug on the table, then took his hand and led him out onto the dance floor. She looped her arms around his neck and ground her hips against his. The music had a low, throbbing tempo, but she moved with a sultry rhythm all her own and Dez grasped her waist, then slid his hands down over the soft swell of her bottom to keep her figure molded to his.

“God, how I want you,” he whispered before sending his tongue into her ear.

Blaise shivered, then rubbed against him with a feline grace. “Let’s go,” she begged. “I don’t care about dinner. I’m just hungry for you.”

Nerine couldn’t take her eyes off the newlyweds. She licked her lips and raised her hand to her throat. “Why don’t you ever dance with me like that?”

Trane was so lost in the couple’s suggestive moves, he didn’t even hear Nerine’s question. He swallowed hard. Recalling how good Blaise’s star-sprinkled flesh had tasted, he couldn’t wait to sample more. When she and Dez suddenly left the dance floor and headed toward the door, he knew they wouldn’t be coming back. Blaise had had only a sip of her drink, so she would be easy to awaken later that night, and this time he wouldn’t stop until he had made love to her so many times she would never want to leave him.

As for Desmond Sanchez, he would accept the man’s insane challenge, and when after their fight the major died as a result of his injuries, everyone would bemoan his passing as a regrettable accident. Trane laughed softly to himself. What a terrible shame that would be. Or perhaps it was merely a tragic fate that would allow him to survive the near crash of an Eclipse, only to die in a barbaric contest on the ground.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Blaise pulled the covers up to her chin, but she was far too anxious to rest comfortably in their wide bed. “Dez?” she whispered.

“Hmm?”

Now that she had his attention, Blaise had a difficult time finding the words to express what was truly in her heart. She drew in a ragged breath and released it slowly. “I know I’ve been impatient, but Blair’s been gone for months, and—”

Dez’s voice was hushed but sympathetic. “It’s all right, Blaise. We won’t have much longer to wait. Just try and be quiet.”

Still afraid she had been too demanding, Blaise hugged her pillow more tightly. “Sunday has come and gone on Ariel. Do you suppose Sula sent out a rescue party to find us?”

Dez had completely forgotten about Sula, which showed just how preoccupied he had been. “No. Fleet Command would have forwarded a copy of my resignation to my unit on Ariel and Sula, along with everyone else, would have heard about it.”

Blaise understood how eagerly that news would have been discussed, but he had not answered her question. “Would she have believed you were sincere?”

“Probably not, but that doesn’t mean she would have come after us. At least I hope she wouldn’t, as it would prove damn awkward to be rescued when we’re trying to make the Tierradyne personnel believe we want to be here.”

Blaise knew Dez was right, but she wished they could count on someone to save them should their plan not work as smoothly as Dez had assured her it would. “I do trust you,” she vowed softly.

“Thank you. Now hush.”

Blaise turned over, but that night their bed seemed as hard as the forest floor had been. No matter which way she lay, her arms and legs remained a jumble of sharp angles that mirrored her mental anguish. She had the most awful feeling nothing was ever going to go right for them, and she hated having such a defeatist attitude. “Maybe we left the party too early.”

Dez understood why Blaise couldn’t be quiet, but it was becoming annoying all the same. “Our timing was perfect. Now try and keep that sweet, little mouth of yours closed.”

Too warm, Blaise flapped the sheet several times to create a breeze, but merely circulating the air didn’t help her feel any better. If they were to succeed, it would happen in the next hour or so. She clung to the hope their masquerade would soon be over, but that it might not end as they wished filled her every thought with terror.

Trane had always found the Saturday night parties diverting, but tonight his attention wandered so often he knew he must appear horribly distracted. After Dez and Blaise left, he had succeeded in inviting an-other couple to share his table during dinner so he did not have to keep Nerine entertained alone, but being an agreeable host became increasingly tiresome. He was enormously relieved when after dessert, the head of the maintenance division invited Nerine to dance, and he immediately left the table to mingle.

He moved around the room, eavesdropping on some conversations, pausing to inspire heated debates within others. Manipulating his companions’ moods easily, he amused himself by inciting arguments in previously harmonious groups, and with equal aplomb quelled the disruptive feelings created among those eager for more challenging discussions. Filled with a dazzling sense of how agreeably he intended the evening to end, he teased himself with a prolonged stroll around the room, delaying his next encounter with Blaise Quinn until his need to be with her again became an obsession he had to indulge.

Nerine was dancing with another partner now, and confident she was having far too good a time to follow him, Trane left the party. After picking up the canister of anesthetic in his suite, he entered Dez and Blaise’s quarters through the door at the rear. He waited as he had on other nights to make certain there were no sounds of joyous lovemaking coming from their bedroom before he stepped inside, but again, the deep quiet was undisturbed.

The soft illumination provided by the star-splashed walls lent a golden sheen to Blaise’s hair, and hazy definition to the shadowed form snuggled down beside her. Trane moved with a silent step to Dez’s side of the bed, but just as he was about to release a quick spray of anesthetic, the lights came on in the room. Trane wheeled around to find Dez standing near the door behind him.

Chagrined he had been fooled by a couple of art-fully arranged pillows made to look like the pilot’s sleeping form, Trane watched with a sullen glance as Blaise scrambled out of bed and ran to her husband’s side. They were both dressed in Aurora’s silver flight suits, their brief stint with Tierradyne obviously over. Trane was completely disgusted with himself for walking into their trap, but saw his resulting dilemma as a welcome challenge rather than a stunning defeat.

Dez raised a laser pistol and trained it on their unwelcome visitor’s chest. “Drop whatever that is you’re holding. You’ll have no need of it tonight.”

Knowing he could not anesthetize the pair from that distance without succumbing to the spray himself, Trane tossed the canister on the bed, but his expression was one of sly amusement rather than fear. “Just what is it you think you’re doing?” he asked.

Dez ached to wipe the smirk from Trane’s face, but knew he would have to postpone that pleasure. “You’re trespassing, and now that we’ve put a stop to your nightly invasions of our bedroom, you’re going to give us a complete tour of hangar four.”

Trane winked at Blaise. “What makes him think you want our rendezvous to end?”

Infuriated, Blaise took a step toward him, but Dez caught her elbow and drew her back. Heeding his silent warning to stand clear, she responded angrily. “The word ‘rendezvous’ implies willing participation, and you know I’ve never been willing to sleep with you.”

Still smiling, Trane cocked a brow as though her boast were preposterous. “There’s not a single bruise on your lovely, star-kissed body,” he chided. “You weren’t merely willing, you were eager. It’s plain Dez can’t satisfy you. Why don’t you tell him the truth now and end your marriage before it becomes a lengthy, as well as tragic, mistake.”

“He’s lying!” Blaise cried.

While Dez shared her outrage, he remained in complete control of his emotions. Confident he would stay coolheaded, he took her hand. “Our marriage isn’t the issue here, Trane. Now, you’re going to use the communications panel beside the bed to contact the tower. Tell them you’ll be working in hangar four, and that the security wheels won’t be needed to patrol the field for the rest of the night. Don’t try and alert them to your predicament, or you’ll die right here.”

As usual, Trane was prone to theatrics and winced. “I can’t imagine your ever being happy with a coldblooded killer, Blaise.”

“If you don’t stop making insulting innuendos, I’ll kill you myself,” she warned. “Now call the tower.”

“If that’s what you truly want, Blaise.”

“Do it!”

Trane contacted the tower and repeated Dez’s message. “Yes, I know I seldom work at night,” he added, “but I’ve an idea I must pursue while it’s fresh. Thank you.”

Dez released Blaise’s hand and she left the bedroom ahead of the two men. “I’m hoping for an excuse to kill you,” Dez warned Trane. “If you’re half as smart as you think you are, you won’t give me one. Come on, let’s go.” As soon as Trane had moved by him, Dez scooped up the canister he had dropped and slipped it into his hip pocket. He then allowed Trane to get no more than a single step ahead of him as they moved through the apartment and out into the garden. Then he nudged him with the barrel of the laser pistol.

“If we pass anyone, greet them as you always do, but take care not to make them suspicious.”

“I don’t want anyone hurt,” Trane assured him, and continued to follow Blaise down the path. Music, and an occasional burst of laughter, floated out over the garden. It seemed as if they were the only ones who had left the party. They reached the edge of the field without encountering a single soul. “As you requested, the wheels are gone,” Trane reported.

“Wait a minute.” Dez observed the field for a full five minutes to make certain the security wheels had indeed been retired for the night. The field was well-lit, but devoid of the day’s activity, lay stretched out before them as still as an ancient battlefield. Blaise’s Scorpion sat in front of hangar three, but his battered ship had been moved inside to await repair.

Dez gave Trane another insistent nudge with the laser. “When we reach the hangar doors, enter the proper code in the security panel. Don’t even consider setting off the alarm, or I’ll use this laser to slit you right down the middle like a baked potato.”

“You needn’t issue such gruesome threats,” Trane argued. “After all, I’ve been cooperative so far, and there’s no reason for you to believe my manner will abruptly change.”

“I’ve got more reasons not to trust you than I have time to repeat,” Dez scoffed. “Move.” Blaise stepped aside, and after Trane had walked passed her, she dropped back to join Dez. The threesome walked across the field in a small, tight wedge, and came to a stop in front of the last hangar. “Enter the code,” Dez prompted, and like Blaise, he held his breath while Trane punched in the numbered sequence, 13,1,18,4, 1,7. Just as Blaise had predicted, it was ‘Mardag’ in a simple alphabetic code.

The large double doors slid open, the lights came on, and while blinded for a brief instant, Dez again poked Trane with his pistol to keep him moving. “Open the next set of doors,” he ordered gruffly.

Reluctant to agree, Trane slowed his pace. “Think about this, Major. The far wiser choice would be to leave now in Blaise’s Scorpion. There will be no attempt to stop you. I’ll simply announce in the morning that you had a change of heart and returned home. You’ve not seen enough of the Phantom to compromise its design, and there needn’t be any hard feelings.”

“You’ve obviously forgotten that I’m the one who’s in charge now,” Dez reminded him. “Open the doors.” He gestured for Blaise to move behind him, and gave her a quick smile when she promptly obeyed. He moved to Trane’s left and watched closely so he would be able to repeat the code should the need arise, but he had no time to translate the numbers into letters before the doors rolled out of their way. This time ready for the bright lights, Dez looked away, but he remained intensely alert and gave Trane no opportunity to get away.

Without waiting for Dez’s permission, Blaise rushed ahead. She had been right about the additional ship, for blacker than midnight, a second and larger version of the Phantom was moored there. It was the reason Dez had come to Zareba, and she quickly scanned the rest of the hangar searching for Blair and Koby. When she realized there was nothing but the equipment used to maintain this second ship, she was devastated.

“What have you done with my brother?” she screamed.

Trane’s eyes widened and he raised his hands as he protested his innocence. “I had no idea you even had siblings!” he exclaimed.

“Liar!”

“Keep your voices down,” Dez warned. “Tell me all about this ship, Trane. I imagine it has an intensely interesting purpose.”

Trane lowered his hands. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but this is merely an earlier version of the Phantom you’ve been helping test. It’s a reconnaissance vessel with an extended range. Unfortunately, this model proved to be unreliable and had to be redesigned. Because I believe it still has possibilities, I kept it with the intention of modifying it for my own personal use. I’ve just not had the time to do any work on it as yet.”

“You’re such a stranger to the truth, I’m surprised your tongue isn’t forked like a snake’s,” Blaise declared as she approached him.

Never without a response, Trane replied in a seductive whisper. “I was under the impression you liked my tongue just the way it is. Or at least, you certainly seemed to whenever I—”

“Shut up!” Blaise cried, unwilling to listen to another of his vile lies.

Trane nodded. “As you wish. If you’re unhappy here, take your Scorpion and go.” He turned to face Dez. “There isn’t anything in the least bit mysterious here, Major. I want your wife. For some inexplicable reason, she prefers you. The choice should be hers, after all, so I am prepared to be gracious about this regrettable situation and allow you both to leave.”

“We’re not going anywhere without Blair,” Blaise insisted. “Now open the hatch on that ship. I want to check the cockpit.”

“I’ll be more than happy to demonstrate its capabilities. We can even fly it if you like, but there’s no need to keep pointing a laser pistol at me. I’m not your enemy.”

Dez shook his head. “Open the hatch. Blaise, you check out the ship. We’ll wait here.” Dez stayed right behind Trane as he walked over to the experimental ship and keyed in the code for the hatch. “You’ll not find anything,” he promised smugly.

Blaise conducted a swift examination of the cockpit and found that it held nothing in the way of tantalizing secrets. She was positive that if the ship were capable of hijacking other spacecraft in the air, an analysis of the computer programs would show how it was done, but she doubted Trane would ever willingly disclose the code words to activate the weapon used. There simply wasn’t time to run a detailed examination without his help. Like Dez, she had hoped there would be additional instruments that would give away the ship’s true purpose, but there were only the usual gauges. Stymied, she shook her head as she left the ship.

“What did I tell you?” Trane said.

Blaise didn’t bother to reply. She didn’t really care about the ship. What she wanted was Blair. She knew he was close. She could feel his presence clear to her soul. His spirit sang in her blood with a haunting rhythm that called her name with every heartbeat.

“I’m going to search every centimeter of this hangar,” she vowed. “There’s got to be something that will prove Blair’s here.”

“Do you mind if I sit down?” Trane asked.

“If he’s tired, hang him by his thumbs!” Blaise directed. She went toward the rear of the hangar and began the thorough search she had promised. She opened every tool locker, moved every stool and crate, then walked the floor looking for a seam that might indicate a concealed trap door.

Dez kept his eyes on Trane, hoping he would give away Blair’s location with a furtive glance, but Trane continued to observe Blaise. “Tell me where Blair and Koby are,” he urged, “or I’m going to have to beat it out of you.”

“That would be a very stupid mistake,” Trane warned.

“No, it would be an act of extremely satisfying brutality.” As Dez saw it, they had only a few hours at the most to wring the necessary information out of Trane, and he ached to do it with his fists. “Find anything?” he called to Blaise.

“Not yet.” Blaise was beginning to feel sick to her stomach. She had pushed Dez into confronting Trane, but they hadn’t gained a thing in coming here. She swept her hair out of her eyes and attempted to dispel the sense of hopelessness that blocked the flow of Blair’s energy. He was there, but the awareness of him remained unfocused. Still, it permeated the hangar. She felt his presence resting like a gentle mist upon her skin.

She walked up behind Dez and laid her hand on his back. “I never expected this to be so difficult.”

“You told me you couldn’t play hide and seek as children. How did you find Blair then?”

“Just as I’m doing now. I closed my eyes and followed an invisible pull toward him.”

“You’ve not tried closing your eyes,” Dez said. “Concentrate. Do it now.”

Blaise was so discouraged, she had been ready to give up, but she saw a flicker of what she swore was fear cross Trane’s face, and knew if he was afraid, then there was still a good chance of finding Blair. She turned around, and stood with her back brushing Dez’s in hopes of using his strength to boost her own.

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. At first, she was all too aware of Dez to reach out beyond him, but gradually thoughts of Blair took precedence in her mind. He was there! She let her mind float, expand, drift over the hangar, seeking her twin. Almost immediately, she encountered a dark force she recog-nized as Trane using the power of his own thoughts to block hers. Rather than fight him, she drew back, and like the tunnel cloud of a tornado, she saw a whirling, spinning force pierce the spacecraft moored there and disappear into the floor beneath it.

The mental image had taken no more than a split second, but the vision had been so intense, she knew its meaning immediately. She turned and walked toward the spacecraft. “We’ll have to move this ship forward. It’s covering the door to a subterranean passage.”

“The mines are at the other end of the field,” Trane argued. “There are no hidden passageways here.”

Blaise looked back over her shoulder. “We must be getting close to the truth. Trane’s starting to panic.”

“Not at all,” he denied. “I just don’t want my ship damaged.”

“We can move it without slamming it, into the walls,” Dez assured him. Like all of Aurora’s and Tierradyne’s fleet, the ship was made of a lightweight alloy and was so perfectly balanced, the two of them could move it easily. The only trouble was, Dez did not want to take his eyes off Trane for even an instant. He looked around, found a roll of wire, and quickly bound the man’s hands behind his back. He then shoved Trane down beside an empty crate and bound his ankles.

“Try not to get bored,” Dez said, and leaving his disgusted captive seated in a helpless huddle, he went to assist Blaise. She had already released the brakes on the ship’s landing gear, and with each of them positioned behind a backswept wing, they easily rolled it toward the forward portion of the hangar to permit free access to the area of the floor that had been covered. Dez was almost afraid to look for a concealed doorway, but Blaise found a recessed metal ring almost immediately. It was attached to a concrete slab too heavy for them to raise by themselves, but a conveniently placed block and tackle permitted them to hoist the slab with a minimum of strain.

Blaise peered down into the dimly lit stairwell. A burst of cold air swirled around her feet, providing a chilling welcome, but she was positive this was the way they had to go. “We better bring Trane with us,” she said as she started down the steep flight of metal steps.

“Wait,” Dez insisted. “We’ll let Trane lead the way.” He freed only the man’s feet and, keeping a firm hold on his bound wrists, hauled him upright and pushed him toward the gaping entrance to the underground tunnel.

“We’ve no idea where this leads,” Trane protested. “It must be part of the original mine, and might extend across half the planet.”

“There’s no dust on the steps,” Blaise pointed out. “That means they’ve been used recently. Come on, let’s hurry.”

“It’s never wise to enter a maze without a ball of twine,” Trane protested.

Dez prodded him toward the first step. “Don’t waste our time pretending to be lost. Just get going.” Trane started down the steps, but unsteady on his feet without the use of his hands, he had to brace himself against the railing. Expecting Trane to feign a fall, or play some other nasty trick, Dez watched him more carefully than the steps as they started their descent.

“Don’t follow us too closely,” he warned Blaise, but she was no more than an arm’s length behind him.

Blaise counted twenty steps before they reached a narrow corridor that receded so far in the distance it appeared to extend all the way beneath the field to the mines. Fans supplying fresh air whirred overhead with a soft humming sound, but the lights were dim, promising nothing more than a long, tedious walk to nowhere. She rested her fingertips against the cold, chiseled rock walls but pulled back when she felt only the fans’ monotonous vibration.

She couldn’t bear to think of Blair being held captive in this dank, underground world, and in her haste to find him had great difficulty not stepping on Dez’s heels. When they came to a second corridor that crossed the one they were following at a right angle, she grabbed Dez’s elbow. “Wait, we’ve got to decide which way to go.”

The last time Dez had been underground, he and Blaise had been exploring the abandoned mines in the Sapphire Mountains, and he was again suffering from claustrophobia. He could not leave her to explore the tunnels alone with Trane, but he hated every wretched second of this trek. With Trane blocking his view, he couldn’t tell if there were footprints on the dusty path they could follow, but he was willing to trust Blaise’s instincts again.

“I’ll follow you,” he promised.

“Which way should we go, Trane?” she called.

“How should I know?”

She would have taken the route opposite the one he had indicated, and was annoyed he hadn’t inadvertently provided the information she had sought. She had only herself to rely on, and closed her eyes and called silently to Blair. She saw him in her mind’s eye running toward her, and when he swung to the left, she knew to go to the right.

“Turn right here,” she urged Dez, and he placed his hand on Trane’s shoulder to point him in the direction they wished to go.

The lights along the corridor were brighter, but they had to go a very long way before they reached a door. Freshly painted a glossy white, it had a security panel identical to the one upstairs in the hangar. Dez quickly freed Trane’s hands.

“Open the door,” Dez commanded, but as Trane reached out for the security panel, Dez quickly yanked him backwards.

“No tricks,” he warned.

“I’m the one who has been tricked,” Trane protested. “I offered you excellent positions with my firm, treated you as honored guests, and look how you’ve chosen to repay me.”

“Stop complaining and open the blasted door,” Blaise hissed.

Trane flexed his hands to restore the circulation, but when he finally obeyed, his fingers danced over the security panel in a quick sequence. The door slid open smoothly. Still, he hesitated to step through it, and Dez had to give him a quick shove between the shoulder blades to propel him along. Irritated, Trane moved with an arrogant stride that would have carried them right by the next doorway had Dez not seen it coming.

Dez pulled Trane to an abrupt halt. “What’s your hurry?” he asked. “We want the complete tour. Show us what’s inside.”

Trane glanced over his shoulder at Blaise. “Do you really want to spend the rest of your life with this man?”

“Yes! Now open the door,” Blaise ordered.

Trane sighed as though he were being very ill-used, but again provided the correct code. What greeted them this time was not another narrow corridor, but a brightly lit workroom filled with long tables topped with all manner of electronic equipment in various stages of assembly. The metal shelves lining the walls contained boxes bulging with additional components ready for an imaginative inventor’s use. At the end of the room, two young men in white laboratory coats were struggling to construct a security wheel. Their work interrupted, they wore impatient frowns as they turned toward them.

“Blair!” Blaise shrieked, but as she darted by Trane, he caught her around the waist and swung her off her feet. She kicked and flailed her arms, but after using her wild struggle to block Dez, he easily subdued her frantic attempt to escape his grasp. Her arms pinned at her sides, she made a perfect shield, and he used her as such as he turned to face Dez.

“Drop the laser,” Trane ordered.

“I think not.” Instead, Dez called to Blair and Koby Burne. “Come on, we’re leaving.” He then aimed the red target beam of the laser pistol on Trane’s forehead. “Put her down, Trane, or I’ll splatter your brains all over the room.”

Trane laughed at Dez’s threat and tightened his fingers around Blaise’s throat. “Have you ever heard the sound of a neck being broken? It’s one I can promise you’ll never forget. It’s not a quick snap, but a wrenching, twisting, grinding noise that—”

“Put her down or you’re a dead man, Trane.” Dez watched Blair and Koby inch toward Trane, but in the narrow space between tables, they had such little room to maneuver, he feared they were only going to get in the way. Blaise’s eyes were wide, imploring him to save her while her breath, cut short by Trane’s hand, came in hoarse gasps. Dez’s finger tightened on the trigger.

“I should have known better than to have tried to reason with you,” Dez swore. As usual, Trane wanted to get in the last word, but as he opened his mouth to reply, Dez fired. He braced himself for a shower of gore as the shot pierced Trane’s skull, but rather than a lethal blast, absolutely nothing happened.

“Did you really believe I’d allow you to keep your weapons?” Trane asked. “Both of your pistols were rendered useless within minutes of your arrival here. I pride myself on my hospitality, but I’m not nearly as gullible as you obviously believe. I’m disappointed in you, Major. I had hoped you would prove to be a much more amusing adversary.

“Tie him up, Blair. Koby, make the rest of us something to drink. It’s going to be a long night, and we’ll need refreshments.”

As Blair moved toward him, he wore the same cocky smirk Dez had found so objectionable in his class at the academy. He had hoped for Blaise’s sake that they would find Blair alive, but he had never imagined he and Koby might have switched their loyalties to Tierradyne as he and Blaise had only pretended to. He watched tears well up in Blaise’s eyes and trickle down over Trane’s hand and knew despite what the despicable bastard might believe, he hadn’t beaten them yet.

Chapter Twenty-Three

As soon as Blair pushed him down into a chair, Dez began working to loosen the knotted rope that bound his wrists behind him. Trane had not seen him slip the canister of what he assumed was the anesthetic that had clouded their dreams into his hip pocket, and Blair had not searched through the many pockets on his flight suit. His mind running through a dozen different scenarios, he had every intention of slipping free of the rope and using the canister to affect their escape. They were now in the living quarters adjacent to the workroom, and Dez counted on overconfidence to be Trane Mardag’s undoing.

Trane did not tie Blaise’s hands, but after easing her down into a padded chair, he remained standing guard behind her. He smoothed her tangled curls with a gentle caress and urged her to sip the soothing tea Koby had brought her. When she shook her head, he took the cup, and had a drink himself.

“I’d not try and poison you,” he cajoled. “I’ve never wanted anything but your happiness.”

Choosing not to comment on what she deemed another in a continuous stream of insidious lies, Blaise’s lips were set in a defiant line. She glanced toward Dez; then, ashamed of the mess she had gotten them in, she had to look away. She didn’t understand how either Blair or Koby could be so relaxed, but the pair were joking amongst themselves as they pulled their chairs close, apparently eager to hear Trane interrogate them. Had they been drugged? she wondered, or tortured until they could no longer distinguish an enemy from a friend?

Without leaving his post behind Blaise’s chair, Trane cleared his throat and apologized for the necessity of keeping them confined. “I had hoped to win you over to my side in time, but tonight you’ve forced the issue, and I can delay no longer.” Setting the cup aside, he again gripped Blaise’s shoulders, and began massaging the tension from her muscles with a slow, circular motion.

“You have amazing insight, Blaise. Not one person in a thousand knows what I am at our first meeting, but you sensed my background was far more exotic than my accent reveals. You even dared ask about my origins, which is far more remarkable. I am from a planet in the Andromeda Galaxy, but the simple fact is, so were all of your ancestors.

“Earth is one of our ancient colonies, you see. We can move among Earthmen as well as the Skychildren who are their descendants, without drawing undo attention to ourselves. In my case, I enjoy dropping tantalizing hints, although I seldom confirm the suspicions I arouse. It’s evil of me, I know, but a flaw I can’t seem to overcome.”

“It scarcely compares to hijacking spacecraft and holding pilots captive,” Dez argued.

Trane paused for another sip of tea. “Don’t interrupt me again,” he ordered sternly, “or I might completely lose the thread of my story and have to start all over again at the beginning. That would be tiresome for us all. Archaeologists on Earth wasted a great deal of effort seeking a so-called missing link between primitive and modern man. The truth is, there was no such intermediate creature. Life progressed on Earth as it did on similar planets, until travelers from Andromeda arrived. Earth’s history was irrevokably altered from that day on.

“Due to a regrettable accident, contact between Andromeda and Earth was suspended prematurely, but you will find mention of men and women who came from the sky in a variety of legends still told on Earth. Anthropologists dismiss what were factual accounts as mere tall tales, but the stories have endured because they were recognized as the truth and were repeated from one generation to the next. Our people and ships are depicted in rock carvings, petroglyphs if you will, all over the Earth, and again, scientists explain them away as random drawings of superstitious tribes.”

Trane tightened his grasp on Blaise’s shoulders. “Do I feel as though I’m no more than an apparition?” Not waiting for a reply, he continued. “The members of our original colonies were scattered, and in time without further contact with Andromeda, our people began to think of Earth as their only home. Unfortunately, they also forgot our peaceful ways; war became the preferred means of settling differences. We have watched Earth spread its version of civilization across your galaxy with the same pride all parents feel for their children’s accomplishments, but we want no part of the violence that taints your nature.

“With the Eclipse, Aurora intended to move past your present frontier. My mission is to prevent that from happening. I wish your people no harm, however, and I do believe Blair and Koby will attest to the fact that they have been treated exceptionally well.”

The two men nodded. “Very well,” Blair said.

“How can you enjoy yourselves here, when your families and friends who love you believe you’re dead?” Blaise asked.

“But we’re not dead,” Blair argued, “and I’ve learned more in the months I’ve worked here with Trane than I did in three years at the academy. It’s not my fault that Mom and Dad have killed me in their minds. I won’t apologize for wanting to stay here rather than return home.”

“Neither will I,” Koby agreed. An attractive young man with dark wavy hair and hazel eyes, the firmness of his tone proved him to be equally committed to remaining with Trane.

“I don’t believe you have a choice,” Dez challenged. “You’re prisoners here, regardless of whatever intrinsic rewards there might be in working with Trane’s superior technology.”

“Gentlemen, please,” Trane offered in a soothing tone. “Nothing can be gained from debating your situation. You are all my guests, and will continue to be for as long as it serves my purpose.”

Trane’s magical touch was as soothing as he had intended, but Blaise had not forgotten the stranglehold which she was certain had left the dark purple imprint of his fingers on her throat. “And then what?” she probed, hoping Blair would see Trane for the monster she knew him to be. “Will you kill us all so we can’t warn others about you?”

“No, of course not.” Trane bent down and brushed her cheek with a tender kiss. “I am from a peace-loving people, and we consider murder the most repugnant of crimes. I will take you all home with me, and give you the opportunity to become part of my world.”

“Wait a minute,” Dez argued. “First you con-demned us as being too violent to be allowed to travel any closer to your planet, and now you’re willing to take us home and treat us as your pet Earthlings? Make up your mind, Trane. If you’re afraid the people of Earth will contaminate your planet, as apparently your people once did ours, how can you invite even one of us into your world?”

Trane’s fingers moved up Blaise’s neck and gently rubbed the hollow behind her ears. “The four of you will provide an infinitesimal risk to our system of order, Major, and I am willing to assume the blame should any of you prove unworthy of my trust. My family is an old and respected one, and I am not without influence. On Earth I would be regarded as a prince, but I don’t expect you to bow to me as though you were loyal subjects.”

“How generous of you,” Dez murmured under his breath. “We were right about the second ship moored in hangar four, weren’t we? It’s the one you used to hijack the Eclipses.” Dez stared Trane in the eye, keeping his attention focused on his defiant gaze while he continued to struggle against the rope. The longer he kept Trane talking, the more time he would have to break free. He raised his chin in a wordless challenge.

“Yes. It’s equipped with a magnetic ray that renders the Eclipse’s instruments inoperative. You were my first attempt, Major. Had I more practice with the system I would have taken you as easily as I did Blair and Koby. You were extremely lucky to escape me, but after the loss of two prototypes, Project Eclipse is being reconsidered by Aurora’s chief executives. It will be months before another test is made, and I can guarantee you that the next ship flown will disappear as mysteriously as the two previous prototypes. I re-gret I had no idea it was you, when I forced your crash here.”

“Where are the Eclipses?” Dez asked, ignoring his apology.

Trane shrugged slightly. “Blair and I took the first apart to study its systems, and Koby joined Blair in an examination of the second, which left it in bits and pieces. While the Eclipse was of a generally undistinguished design, it did have some interesting modifications which were worth investigating. Your engineers are proceeding in the right direction, but they’ve made errors they haven’t the expertise to identify and correct.”

“And still your people are terrified that we’re coming too close? Does Tierradyne have any idea what you’re doing?” Dez inquired. “Or has the company been so heavily infiltrated by your countrymen that they are willing participants in the hijackings?”

Not pleased by the implications of Dez’s question, Trane hesitated to answer. He combed Blaise’s curls through his fingers while he formulated a noncommittal reply. “It’s to Tierradyne’s advantage to stop Aurora at the present frontier, so there is no discrepency between our objectives. As I told you earlier, my people regard you as our children, and feel we have every right to correct you when you stray along the wrong path. That you resemble us so closely makes it easy for us to win your friendship and influence your decisions. You will enjoy our world, Major, and once you’ve proved your loyalty, you’ll be allowed to fly vessels which will make the Eclipse seem like a child’s paper kite by comparison.”

“What about me?” Blaise asked. “Won’t I be given the same opportunities?”

“Your happiness is my foremost concern,” Trane told her. “Whether you wish to fly, or explore the depths of our seas, I will arrange it for you.” He came around to the front of her chair and knelt down so their eyes were level. “I realize now that my approach was less than honorable, but my regard for you is sincere. If you wish to remain with Major Sanchez, then you certainly may, but I hope now that you know who I am, and the fabulous life I have to offer, that you’ll change your mind and come with me. You will make a very lovely princess and my home is a palace worthy of you.”

Blaise could not deny that Trane had an almost magical appeal, but she knew it was merely a trick of chemistry, nothing more. She looked toward her brother, and while his external appearance was unchanged, she knew he had been corrupted by Trane’s fantastic tales. She was ashamed that he would put superior technology above loyalty to his own family. Koby looked away rather than meet her gaze, and she was cheered that at least one of Trane’s captives felt remorse.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Dez slip free of the rope. Knowing he would surely go after Trane, she raised her left hand to Trane’s temple, effectively blocking his view of Dez. “You offer a compelling argument, for every pilot dreams of discovering distant worlds, but—”

In a single forceful leap, Dez came out of his chair, tossed the anesthetic canister to Blaise, and dropped the rope that had bound his wrists over Trane’s head. He twisted to the left, yanking Trane back. Already off balance, Trane lacked the leverage to break free. He grabbed hold of Dez’s wrists, but Dez continued to tighten the rope and cut off his air.

Blaise didn’t question what the canister contained. Leaving her chair, she shoved it toward Blair and Koby to prevent them from reaching Trane. Holding her breath, she sprayed them both in the face. Instantly, their eyes rolled back in their heads. Clumsily clinging to each other as their knees buckled, they slid to the floor and lay mere inches from Trane’s feet.

Trane was incredibly strong, and even caught in a stranglehold, he was a dangerous opponent. Reaching down, he grabbed Dez’s right knee, and pulling up, succeeded in knocking him off his feet. As Dez slammed into the floor, Trane twisted to the side, got his fingers inside the makeshift noose looped around his neck, and with a ferocious yank, pulled the rope from Dez’s hands. He then threw the rope across the room and grabbed for Dez’s throat.

Blaise had seen fights among Blair and his friends, but nothing to rival this bloodthirsty contest. Clutching the spray, she struggled to stay out of the men’s way until she had a clear shot at Trane. He appeared to have the advantage for a moment, then Dez landed a fierce punch to his jaw, scrambled to his feet, and took the lead. His face contorted with rage, Dez continued to pummel Trane with a furious series of blows that Trane was too busy blocking to counter.

Because of his greater size, Trane lacked Dez’s speed, but the few punches he did throw were brutal. Both men’s faces were soon bruised and bloody, and the furniture in the once tidy living area was scattered and shattered. At one point, Blaise was shoved into a corner as the men careened by. As they moved out into the center of the room, she bolted for the door, trying to avoid being caught between them. She peered through the open doorway to watch the chilling exchange.

Blair and Koby lay in the middle of the floor. Though they were continually stepped on and tripped over, the two showed no signs of regaining consciousness. For a man who claimed to love peace, Trane fought like a demon, but having far more at stake, Dez was a defiant match for him. For every blow Dez took, he threw three, and gradually he began to dominate the fight. When at last he struck Trane a glancing blow to the temple that left the blond dazed, he yanked the canister from Blaise’s hand and sprayed him full in the face to knock him out.

“Where’s that blasted rope?” Dez asked as he surveyed the rubble-strewn room.

Dez’s features had been so badly distorted by the beating he had taken, it made Blaise sick to look at him. “It’s over here,” she called out as she ran to get it. She held it out to him, but his hands were so scraped and swollen she doubted he could even fashion a knot, let alone pull it tight. “I’ll tie him,” she volunteered, and dropping to one knee beside Trane, she pulled his hands behind his back and quickly tied them together. When she stood, Dez was shaking his head. He looked ready to pass out himself.

“My God,” Blaise gasped. “What an awful fight. Do you suppose anything he said was true?”

Dez was breathing hard and had difficulty responding. “I doubt it, but I’m not going to wait around and demand verification.” He returned the canister to his hip pocket, picked his way around a broken chair, and stumbled over to Blair’s side. He felt for the pulse in his throat, and smiled with relief. “I was hoping all the canister held was an anesthetic, and that’s what it appears to have been. Thanks for your help. If you hadn’t acted so quickly, I would have had to fight all three of them. Now I know Blair and Koby are heavy, but do you think you can help me haul them up the stairs?”

As far as Blaise could see, she had no choice but to volunteer. “You’ve done the hardest part,” she as-sured him, “If I could carry them alone, I would. If you’ll take Blair’s shoulders, I’ll grab his feet.”

“Good girl.” Dez reached up to give her a quick kiss, and then took a firm hold on Blair. “I don’t think that spray lasts very long, so let’s get out of here before they can argue with us about being rescued. I’ve had more than enough fights for one day.”

Blaise was glad he couldn’t see how ghastly he looked, or she doubted he would be able to stand, let alone carry Blair. She slipped her arms around her brother’s ankles and while her back developed a painful ache, she didn’t ask Dez to stop and rest until they reached the bottom of the stairs. “We won’t all fit in my Scorpion. How are we going to get out of here?”

“We’re taking Trane’s Phantom.”

Dez started up the stairway. Struggling to keep up with him, Blaise lacked the strength to argue. When they reached the hangar, she was near collapse, and had to wait until Dez dragged her brother up the ramp and into the black ship to try and catch her breath. “What if we can’t fly his ship?”

“I just checked, and saw what you did earlier. It’s identical to the Phantom we’ve been flying. As soon as we get Koby on board, we’re leaving for Ariel. Now come on, can you help me again, or are you too tired?”

After what was easily one of the most taxing nights of her life, Blaise felt completely drained, but inspired by his example, refused to admit it. “I can make it.”

Dez started down the stairs, and Blaise followed, her knees shaking. When they returned to the quarters off the workroom, neither Koby nor Trane had moved, but she did not trust Trane not to be faking and stayed well out of his reach. “What are we going to do about him?” she asked.

“Just leave him. We’ll leave the trapdoor open up-stairs, and he’ll be found in the morning. We’ll file charges against Tierradyne for hijacking, and let the authorities deal with Trane. I don’t think he’s any more an alien than I am, but it won’t be my place to rule on his sanity. Now pick up Koby’s feet, and let’s get out of here.”

This time Blaise had to stop several times to rest as they made their way down the long corridor, but they managed to get Koby safely loaded in the Phantom before any other calamity befell them. “I wish we could have recovered the missing Eclipses before they were dismantled,” she remarked while buckling her seatbelt. “Oh wait a minute, I’ve got to get my helmet.”

Dez looked over his shoulder at their sleeping passengers. “It’s not worth the risk, Blaise. I’ll buy you a dozen helmets.”

“No, it was a gift from my parents. I can’t leave it.” Blaise was out of her seat before he could stop her. She opened the hatch and raced to the main doors of the hangar. The field was still quiet, and she strode out to her Scorpion and quickly opened the hatch. She grabbed her helmet, and Dez’s too, but as she started back toward hangar four, she heard a strange beeping sound and turned to find a security wheel rolling toward her at maximum speed.

Drawing upon reserves she had not realized she had, she dashed back into the hangar and tore up the ramp of the Phantom. She secured the hatch and dropped into her seat for the second time. “There’s a security wheel coming,” she warned in a breathless rush.

“What?” Dez had not even considered calling the tower for permission to launch, and he fired the ship’s engines to float them out into the front of the hangar. He had thought he would have room to maneuver around the other Phantom, but he grazed its hull, sending up a shower of sparks. Pulling up sharply, he sailed over it, then had to dip immediately to make it out through the hangar doors. Just as Blaise had reported, a security wheel was circling her Scorpion, and it spun and shot a laser blast that seared their right wing.

“Did that sound like a warning to you?” Dez asked. He angled the ship to avoid the next shot, then went to full power. The Phantom soared up over the base, and tore through the night with a thunderous roar. “I’m not touching the navigational computer,” he swore. “I’m taking us home to Ariel on my own.”

The tower sent a harried communication requesting their status, but Dez did not acknowledge it. “Damn,” he swore. “Trane must have gotten lose and summoned the wheels. I should have known to give someone of his size an extra dose of that spray.”

Blaise was shaking all over. “What if he comes after us, Dez?”

Dez shot her a disbelieving glance, but as the hair rose on the back of his neck, he knew there was a very good chance they were being followed. The ship had fore and aft sensors to guard against midair collisions, and he kept a close watch on their screens. When there was no sight of pursuit after half an hour, he relaxed slightly.

“Maybe Trane isn’t awake yet, or he can’t catch us in the other Phantom. I think we’re more likely to have trouble with your brother and Koby than we are from him. How do they look?”

Blaise glanced over her shoulder. “They’re still out cold, their heads are just rolling on their chests but they are bound to awaken before we reach Ariel, and I don’t want a repeat of the fight you had with Trane here in the cockpit.”

“Neither do I.” Dez pulled the canister from his pocket and shook it before handing it to Blaise. “It doesn’t feel like there’s much left, but if they start to come to, spray them again. Take over for a while, and I’ll use whatever I can find in the first-aid supplies to patch myself up.”

The ship responded easily to Blaise’s touch, and she kept a close watch on the sensor screens. She glanced frequently at Dez. She was relieved to see that once he had wiped off the blood, his appearance was much improved. His right eye was nearly swollen shut, and his chin scraped, but he wouldn’t bear any permanent scars from his lengthy fight with Trane.

“I’ve read that sociopaths have incredible charm,” she told him. “There was something so compelling about Trane’s manner, as though he saw more, or deeper, than other men. I can understand how Blair and Koby could have been taken in by his interest in them. ”Seduced‘ is perhaps the better word, but it will be difficult to forgive them for it. When I think how badly I’ve missed Blair, it doesn’t seem right that he didn’t miss me at all.“

“He didn’t say that,” Dez argued. “Let’s wait until we have a chance to hear his whole story before we criticize him any further. Now if you can handle things on your own for a while, I’ll try and sleep a couple of hours. Wake me if our passengers begin to stir, and we’ll hope there’s enough spray left to keep them quiet until we reach Ariel.”

Too anxious to rest, Blaise had no difficulty remaining alert while Dez slept, but she could not get Trane Mardag out of her mind. He haunted her thoughts like an evil specter. She doubted she would ever feel completely free of his influence. She had again worn his necklace, but this would be the last time. She would put it away with the topaz earrings and regard them as souvenirs of an adventure she hoped never to repeat.

Dez coaxed the last ounce of anesthetic from the canister and kept Blair and Koby asleep until Ariel was in sight. “I never thought I’d be glad to call this desolate base home,” he admitted to Blaise, “but I’m actually happy to be back.”

Blaise unbuckled her seat belt and, turning around, shook Blair’s knee. “Come on, wake up. I’ll be damned if I’ll carry you again. Koby? We need you awake.” She kept talking to the slumbering pair until they began to yawn and stretch. “Welcome to Ariel,” she greeted them.

Disoriented by the lingering affects of the spray, neither man posed a problem. After contacting the tower to announce his intentions, Dez landed the Phantom in front of the maintenance hangar where he and Sula had spent so many hours working together. Considering his mission a complete success, he did not care what sort of a reception he received from Major Seltzer, but he was understandably shocked when Jourdan Curry was the first to reach their ship.

Equally surprised, Blaise walked down the ramp and into Jourdan’s arms, but she didn’t pretend to be as thrilled as he was by their reunion and quickly slipped free of his embrace. “What are you doing here, Jourdan? Have you been exiled, too?”

“No, of course not,” he laughed. “When I was unable to reach you at Fleet Command, I contacted your father. He told me you’d come here, and I was so worried that you’d let grief cloud your reasoning that I followed.” He looked past her toward the Phantom, and his jaw dropped as he spotted Blair in the doorway. “My God,” he moaned. “I didn’t even dream you were alive. Where have you been all these months?”

Blair shook his head. “You’d not believe me if I told you.” Clearly more disgusted than pleased to have been returned to Aurora’s territory, he came down the ramp and paused beside Blaise to survey the surrounding desert with a contemptuous gaze. Koby followed, but his mood was more sheepish than defiant.

Dez was the last to leave the Phantom, and he waved to Sula, who had not bothered to alter her usual casual attire before greeting him. “I hope the other guy looks worse,” she called out.

Dez had taken too many hard blows to the ribs to be able to laugh as deeply as he would have liked. “I thought so,” he answered. He quickly introduced Blair and Koby as the reason for his mission to Zareba. “I’m afraid I lost our Scorpion, though,” he informed her sadly.

Sula shrugged, and her apron slid low on her bare breasts. “That’s too bad, but if you can keep this ship, I’d say you came out ahead.”

“The ship’s Tierradyne property,” Blair was quick to point out. “It will have to be returned.”

“Blair, please,” Blaise begged. “We’re all tired, and what we need most is rest rather than a bitter argument over property rights.”

“You may be tired, but I’m not,” Blair countered. “What about you, Koby?”

Koby shook his head. “I think we better speak to the commanding officer here. He’ll undoubtedly want to delay our debriefing until we reach Fleet Command, but he ought to know who we are.”

Sula rolled her eyes. “Let me warn you two now, don’t tell Major Fizz anything you don’t want repeated in every latrine in the galaxy, because he doesn’t know the meaning of the word confidential.”

“Is that true?” Koby asked Dez.

“Unfortunately, yes. Let’s agree right now that the details of your disappearance and rescue are classified under the provisions of Project Eclipse and leave it at that. The less Major Fizz knows, the better.”

“I’m going back to Zareba,” Blair announced suddenly.

“You can’t mean that!” Blaise cried.

Blair jammed his hands into the pockets of his copper flight suit. “I’d be a fool to give up the greatest opportunity to gain knowledge any human ever had. You may not have wanted to be Trane’s wife, but I sure as hell want to continue learning what he knows.”

Koby backed away. “I need time to think before I make my decision.”

Blaise would have argued, but Dez sent her a warning glance. “Let’s check in with Major Seltzer, get you two assigned to the guest quarters, and make plans to meet later. I know you’ll want to notify your parents that you’re safe, Blair, and you’ve got family too, haven’t you, Koby?”

“Yes, I sure do.”

“Well, I know they’ll be overjoyed to learn your memorial service was premature.” Dez left Sula with the whispered instruction to discover how the Phantom fired a magnetic ray, and then along with Blaise and Jourdan, ushered Blair and Koby to Major Seltzer’s office. Just as Dez had expected, Major Fizz was more concerned that he had flown an unauthorized mission to Zareba than that the mystery surrounding Project Eclipse had been solved.

“Major Sanchez, you give me no option but to report your conduct as most unsatisfactory,” he bellowed. “I offered you the opportunity to redeem yourself as a pilot, but you failed to take advantage of it. I imagine Fleet Command will deal with you severely, but you will have no one but yourself to blame if the commission you resigned isn’t reinstated.”

“He’s brought the proof Tierradyne was hijacking ships and holding pilots captive,” Blaise interjected. “You can’t possibly believe that constitutes unsatisfactory performance.”

Major Seltzer’s eyes narrowed to menacing slits. “When his job was to deliver supplies to our colonies, I most certainly do. I’ll make a note of your impertinence, Lieutenant. I’d advise you to disassociate yourself from Major Sanchez immediately, before your career is irrevocably damaged.”

“He’s my husband,” Blaise informed him.

“Your husband!” Jourdan gasped. “When did you marry him? More importantly, why?”

Major Seltzer pounded his fist on his desk. “Silence! This is not the place to settle whatever petty personal disputes you may have. Now, I’m going to notify Fleet Command of your arrival, and follow their instructions to the letter. I assume they will insist any Tierradyne property you may have in your possession be returned.”

“The Phantom isn’t going back,” Dez stated firmly. “It’s evidence vital to Aurora’s case against Tierradyne.”

Major Fizz wiped a bubble of spit from the corner of his mouth. “I won’t argue with you, Major. Fleet Command is the rightful authority here, and we will abide by their decisions. I intend to contact them immediately.”

“So do I,” Dez said.

“We all have messages to send,” Blaise added, but as they filed out of the major’s office on their way to the communications center, Jourdan drew her aside.

“I can’t believe you married Sanchez. Was it just a part of your attempt to rescue Blair?”

Blaise wanted to respond honestly, but the truth wouldn’t reveal nearly enough. “That’s really a private matter between Dez and me,” she whispered. “Please don’t ask me to explain more than that.” She hurried to catch up with Dez, and took his hand in a loose grasp so she wouldn’t hurt his bruised knuckles. He gave her an encouraging smile, but she still felt lost. She had thought that once Blair was free, she would have a blissful sense of inner peace, but Blair was angry rather than grateful, and she felt only horribly confused rather than content.

She drew in a deep breath and tried to take comfort from the warmth of Dez’s hand, but their future was still impossible to predict, and she was frightened for them all.

Chapter Twenty-Four

“I’m sorry, Major.” The communications technician sat back in his chair. “Fleet Command keeps responding, ”transmission denied.“ Looks like your resignation is going to stand.”

“Try using my name,” Blaise requested.

“Transmission denied,” the technician repeated. “You’re no longer on the active roster either, Lieutenant.”

“What about Koby and me?” Blair asked. “Will they accept messages from us?”

“I’ll give it a try.” The technician typed in Blair Quinn’s name and academy identification number, but again Fleet Command refused to accept the message. The same sorry sequence was repeated when he used Koby Burne’s name.

“They must count us both as deceased,” Koby complained. He turned to Major Seltzer, who was glaring at them all from atop a stool he had pulled into the corner. “It was very gracious of you to allow us to notify our families of our whereabouts, sir, but it looks as though you’ll have to inform Fleet Command of our change in status before they’ll accept our messages.”

Major Fizz gave a derisive snort. “I scarcely know where to begin.” The savage furrow between his scraggly brows deepened as he considered possible wording, but after conferring with the technician, he sent a straightforward communique stating that Blair Quinn and Koby Burne had been found alive on Tier-radyne’s Zareba base by Major Desmond Sanchez and Lieutenant Blaise Quinn, who had conducted a successful, if unauthorized, rescue mission.

“Please add that we’ve all returned to Ariel in the Tierradyne spacecraft believed responsible for the disasters plaguing Project Eclipse,” Dez advised.

While reluctant to grant Dez any favors, Major Fizz nodded. “Yes, send that information too, and ask how we should proceed.” Leaving the stool, he went to the door. “What are the chances Tierradyne will send a party to seek their ship’s return?”

Blair’s face lit with a happy grin. “Good, I hope, and I’ll be glad to serve on the welcoming committee.”

“Son, you better report to the infirmary,” Fizz declared. “You may have returned from the dead, but your thinking sure is scrambled. Go along with him, Major. Your eye needs attention.”

Dez wasn’t worried about a black eye, but it was such an innocuous order he decided to obey. “Yes, sir, I’ll do that right now.” He waited until Seltzer had left, then turned to Jourdan Curry. “I’ll go by the infirmary, and then I’m going to my place to sleep. Will you see that Blair and Koby get something to eat and rooms in the guest quarters while we’re waiting for the response from Fleet Command?”

Jourdan opened his mouth to ask Blaise what she intended to do, then realized she was going with Dez. “Sure. I’ll take good care of them,” he promised. “Sula talked me into waiting, but another day and I’d have left for Zareba myself. Even if I can’t take any credit for being in on the rescue, I can handle whatever is needed now.”

“Are we to be treated as prisoners,” Blair asked, “and watched at all times?”

“Not if you behave yourselves,” Dez assured him, and taking Blaise’s hand, he ushered her out of the communications center. “I don’t think it will take Fleet Command long to reply, but I sure wish I knew what they were going to say.”

“Congratulations would be a good place to start,” Blaise offered.

“I agree, but I’ll bet you any amount you name, those won’t be the first words we hear.”

“I don’t want any part of that bet.” Blaise waited in the infirmary while Dez was treated for his cuts and scrapes, but she did not ask for anything to help lift her spirits. “Do you think Trane is likely to show up here?” She asked Dez as they walked to his apartment.

“How can he? He’s bragged about hijacking two of our ships, and even if Blair and Koby won’t press charges for kidnapping and wrongful imprisonment, air piracy is a serious charge. Major Fizz would be well within his rights to arrest him and hold him for trial. No, if Tierradyne sends anyone after the Phantom, it won’t be Trane.”

When he reached his door, Dez had to stop and think to recall the code. “What’s your real worry?” he asked. “That you might see Trane again, or that you won’t?”

“Oh, please. I don’t deserve that.” Now uncertain she wanted to be there, Blaise waited by the open door. “Neither of us has gotten much sleep in the last twenty-four hours. We’re hungry, and I know you have to be in pain. Still, if you don’t already know the answer to that insulting question, then perhaps I ought to bunk with Blair and Koby.”

Dez drew her inside and shut the door before he replied. He rested his bruised hands lightly on her shoulders. “I know you felt you had to look for Blair if there was even a remote possibility he was alive. I didn’t have the good fortune to have a sister, but I’m positive no one could ask for more than the extraordinary devotion you’ve shown Blair. I don’t want you to stay with me out the same sense of loyalty, or duty.”

Blaise wasn’t certain if he was complimenting her or giving her a way to painlessly, at least for him, end their marriage. “That goes both ways,” she was quick to respond. She raised her hand to her temple. “My head hurts, and I’m so tired I can’t think. I just want to go to bed.”

While that wasn’t the wholehearted endorsement he had hoped for their marriage, Dez held his tongue. “Come with me.” He showed her into the bedroom, and while the beige carpet, walls, and furnishings lacked Tierradyne’s artistic flair, she lay down on the bed and was asleep before he could apologize for the bland decor. He wanted to join her, but needed to shower first. Before he could remove his flight suit, he heard a knock at the door. Hoping Fleet Command had sent a reply to their message, he hurried to answer, but found Sula waiting to see him.

“I hate to bother you,” she began, “but that ship you flew in here has engines unlike anything I’ve ever seen. I’ve got a technician working on the computer; it’s a standard model and won’t provide much of a challenge to access. The design of the ship, however, is something else again. Near as I can tell, it recycles its own fuel, which means the only limit on its range is the lifespan of the pilot. It can undoubtedly be programmed to fly without one, which means Tier-radyne’s so damn far ahead of us we might as well close down our expeditionary force right now, because from what you told me of the Eclipse, it sure can’t match this ship.”

All Dez had noted before launching the Phantom on Zareba was that the ship was fully fueled. It had not even occurred to him that it had an unlimited range. Tierradyne would most definitely want it back, and that was the last thing he could allow to happen. “Better lock the ship in the hangar, and don’t tell anyone else what you’ve told me. Let’s just hope Fleet Command can appreciate what we’ve brought them.”

Sula raked her nails across her tattoo in a distracted scratch. “If I didn’t know you’d brought the ship from a Tierradyne base, I’d swear it was an alien vessel.”

Dez fought not to allow his expression to betray the truth she had just guessed. “Let’s keep that possibility just between ourselves for the time being, Sula. Thanks for coming to me rather than Major Fizz.”

Sula backed away. “No danger in my ever confiding in that fool. You remember your promise, Dez? You get called back to Fleet Command, you said you’d take me with you.”

Dez nodded. “I won’t leave you here, Sula. You can count on me.” He closed his door, and went on in to take a shower, but the whole time the warm water pelted his weary muscles, he had to fight the sickening sensation that rather than having put an end to Trane Mardag’s evil influence, he had opened the door to its wider diffusion.

Fleet Command sent not only an immediate reply to Major Seltzer’s startling summary of Dez and Blaise’s mission, but Colonel Steven Andrus, the head of Project Eclipse, was dispatched to Ariel to conduct their debriefings. Uncertain of what the results of the meeting would be, all concerned spent an uneasy week while waiting for the colonel and his team to arrive. Dez found Blaise excruciatingly polite, but distant. Understanding the depth of her anguish over Blair’s defection, he attempted to be supportive, but nothing he did seemed to matter. Feeling helpless, he watched her grow increasingly depressed.

Koby Burne spent his time playing cards with Jour-dan Curry, who had arranged to remain on Ariel to join Colonel Andrus’s task force. Blair missed no opportunity to curse the fact that he had been taken from Zareba against his will. He sent a message to his parents stating only that he was alive, but making no promise he would return to the academy. Sula continued to study the Phantom’s remarkable engines, and impressed by her unbridled enthusiasm for the ship, Blaise visited the maintenance hangar each day.

Sula soon got used to the fact that Blaise never took a break for an ale, but she was sorry they had failed to develop the easy rapport she had established with Dez. She wiped her face with an oily rag and made another try. “You’re a damn fine mechanic, Lieutenant. What do you think Aurora’s chances are to duplicate this ship?”

Blaise leaned back against the Phantom. “We don’t have the necessary equipment here to analyze the fuel, but if it’s a mixture we can’t duplicate, then it won’t matter whether or not we can replicate the engine. We won’t be able to make it run.”

Sula doubted Blaise’s perpetual frown had anything to do with exotic fuels. She pulled out a stool from her workbench and sat down. “This whole situation looks pretty bleak to you, doesn’t it?”

“Doesn’t it to you? Our careers are still on the line,” Blaise reminded her. “I risked everything to save my brother, and he’s angry rather than grateful. I may have had an affair with an attractive alien, and I can’t recall anything but a vague sense of disgust. I’d say that’s enough to give anyone the blues.”

“Damn right,” Sula agreed, “but you and Dez make such a great team, you’ll survive.”

Unable to share Sula’s confidence, Blaise shrugged off her comment. “Is there anything else that needs to be done today? I’ll be happy to do routine maintenance on the shuttles if you need help.”

“Thanks, but we’re all caught up for now. What’s Dez doing with his time?”

“He’s working on his statement.”

“What about yours?”

“I’ll just sign my name to his.” Too anxious to remain and talk with the inquisitive mechanic, Blaise left the hangar, but then realized she didn’t have any place to go. The warmth of the day made doing anything more than staying inside the temperature-controlled buildings horribly unpleasant, but she was too restless to remain inside. She went around the side of the hangar and sat down in the shade. Following Sula’s example, she had worn only a knit shirt and shorts to work in, and hugged her bare knees.

Colonel Andrus was expected to arrive any time, but Dez would be the one he would want to see. Because he and Andrus had not gotten along well in the past, Dez wasn’t looking forward to a reunion with his former commander, and taking her husband’s side, Blaise did not want to meet him either. Dozing off, she had a brief troubled nap and awoke feeling as badly depressed as the days after Blair’s disappearance when everyone assumed he was dead. While no one had died since their return from Zareba, she was overwhelmed with the same crippling sense of loss.

Dez rounded the corner and quickly came to Blaise’s side. “What are you doing out here? You’ll shrivel up like a raisin in this heat.” He reached for her hands and pulled her to her feet. His right eyelid was no longer swollen, but still bore a deep purple tinge. Otherwise, he looked no worse for their ordeal on Zareba.

“Andrus’s ship has already begun its approach,” he told her. “You’ll want to change your clothes before he arrives.”

Knowing she would not need a uniform on Zareba, Blaise had left one there, but she was loath to put it on. “I suppose I don’t have any choice about meeting him.”

“Absolutely none,” Dez replied. He put his arm around her shoulders and urged her along the walk to his quarters. “I’m sorry if my comments haven’t made you eager to make his acquaintance. I remember how lovely you looked the afternoon I walked into Taylor Bradshaw’s office. You’ll want to look that good again. After all, we want Andrus to reassign us to Project Eclipse, and we can’t miss an opportunity to impress him favorably.”

“Project Eclipse will have to be scrapped,” Blaise assured him. “It simply can’t compare to Trane’s Phantom.”

“I know, but whatever Aurora decides to build, test pilots will be needed to fly the prototypes.”

The prospect obviously excited Dez, but Blaise couldn’t find a bit of enthusiasm for anything. “I’m not even sure I want to fly anymore.”

“But why?” Then Dez remembered he hadn’t wanted her flying prototypes to begin with. “What-ever you decide is fine with me, but you do want to remain with Aurora, don’t you?”

Having nowhere else to go, Blaise shrugged. “I suppose.” She entered his apartment first, and headed on into the bathroom.

Dez sank down on the living room couch and propped his feet up on a padded stool. He remembered the night Blaise had come running to his place in the instructors’ quarters with the awful news about Blair. She was just as distracted now, and he couldn’t understand why. At least she hadn’t sought out Jour-dan’s company, and he was enormously grateful for that. She had not spent any time with Blair either, and he understood why. He couldn’t forgive her brother for persisting in his stubborn refusal to see Trane Mardag for the manipulative bastard he was.

He heard Andrus’s ship arrive, but waited for Blaise rather than go out to meet it. When she reappeared wearing the sleek gray uniform that he still found wonderfully flattering, he rose to meet her. “You look terrific. Just let me do all the talking,” he suggested, “and we’ll be out of here in no time.”

Blaise glanced up at him. “The possibility we might be assigned here permanently hasn’t occurred to you?”

Dez gagged slightly. “I’d resign rather than stay here.”

“Resign? But what would you do?”

Dez laughed. “I’ll be damned if I know, but I’m sure we’d think of something exciting.”

“We?”

“Yes, ”we.“ You don’t think I’d leave you here, do you?”

Dez ushered her through the door before Blaise could respond, but she had never even imagined Dez would leave Aurora willingly, or want to take her with him if he did. Amazed, she realized all week she had been dreading talking about their future when perhaps there hadn’t been anything to fear. Her eyes filled with tears, but she quickly blinked them away, straightened her shoulders, and walked proudly by Dez’s side.

A handsome man in his fifties, with curly gray hair and bright blue eyes, Steven Andrus had had a distinguished career with Aurora, and had expected Project Eclipse to be his crowning achievement. He had been so anxious to succeed as head of the testing branch, when Desmond Sanchez had encountered unexplained difficulties, he had sacrificed him without so much as a single twinge of conscience.

His attitude was still decidedly skeptical, but the rescue of Blair Quinn and Koby Burne was incontrovertible proof that he had been too quick to dismiss Dez last summer. Afraid the blame for the whole regrettable episode would somehow fall on him, he intended to conduct a thorough investigation of what appeared at first glance to be a completely unbelievable story. His posture was rigid as he sat listening to Blair Quinn relate how he had lost control of the same Eclipse in which Dez had nearly died, and it was all he could do not to glance toward the test pilot to observe his reaction.

“What did you do when the Eclipse continued to accelerate in speed?” he asked.

Because there were no academy uniforms on Ariel, Blair had been given an Aurora flight suit to wear, but he felt uneasy despite the garment’s loose fit. “There wasn’t anything I could do except scream ‘Mayday!” “ He paused as the terror of that night crept up his spine with an eerie tingle that made his hands shake. ”I closed my eyes, held my breath, and just waited for the ship to blow apart, but it didn’t. Instead, the sensation of tremendous speed ceased as suddenly as it began. It was as though the Eclipse were just floating free and I was gradually drawn into the open cargo bay of a Tierradyne transport ship.

“I was welcomed aboard by Trane Mardag, who apologized for giving me such a fright. He said we were going to Zareba, where I’d be involved in a project he promised would not disappoint me. He was telling the truth.”

“And the night of your disappearance, Captain Burne?” Andrus prompted. “Was your experience similar?”

Koby had borrowed a captain’s gray uniform, and appeared composed, although his mood was far from serene. He lacked Dez’s rakish daring, but he had been a successful test pilot until his first flight in an Eclipse, and he wanted desperately to be reinstated. He described the initial phase of the test flight, then looked toward Blair.

“I had the advantage, if you can call it that, of knowing there had been earlier problems with the Eclipse. At the first instant the controls became unresponsive, I fought as hard as I could, but the force I encountered was too strong to escape.

“I passed out, and awakened on board a Tierradyne transport ship. Trane Mardag greeted me warmly, apologized for taking me into what he referred to as ‘custody,” and then explained we were en route to Zareba, where I’d have the opportunity to study technology Aurora’s finest engineers would die to possess. He gave me something to drink, and frankly, I can’t recall much of the flight.“

The session was being taped, and only Colonel Andrus, Blair, Koby, Dez, Jourdan, and Blaise were pre-sent in the small conference room. “Did either of you object to being held prisoner?” Andrus asked.

“Of course,” Blair replied. “I accused Trane of being a pirate. He said he was flattered. Like Koby, I can’t remember much of the long flight to Zareba. Once there, I was kept in an underground bunker beneath the hangar where Trane’s Phantom was stored. It wasn’t like being in a dungeon, though. I was well treated, and after a couple of days, Trane began to bring me the components to build a series of machines. The first produced music from disks no larger than buttons. The second made ice cream.”

“Ice cream?” Andrus repeated.

“Yes. I’d mentioned I would like some, and Trane told me to make my own device to produce it. He always brought the plans along with the components so I didn’t have to design my own, but none of them was easy to build.”

“By the time I arrived,” Koby added, “Blair had become fairly proficient, and he took the lead when we began building a security wheel. We were working on the third when Major Sanchez and Lieutenant Quinn arrived.”

Andrus was having a difficult time following along. “What are security wheels?”

Blair quickly explained their purpose. “Trane referred to them as the first of our robotic projects. He only hinted at how much we would enjoy building the second.”

“You must have had tools, and equipment you might have used for your own purposes. Did you attempt to escape?”

Koby looked down at his hands, while Blair focused on the wall behind Colonel Andrus. “No, sir,” they each replied.

Unable to believe what he was hearing, the colonel shook his head. “You lived underground and built strange machines? Is that all you’ve been doing the past months?”

When neither man answered, Dez leaned forward. “Trane must have provided rewards of some kind for all the good work you were doing. Knowing him, I’ll bet they were women.”

“He used a variety of things,” Blair explained grudgingly. “Excellent food, amusing films, and occasionally women, but nothing really compared to the work we were given. We’ve built things the scientists and engineers in our world haven’t even imagined.”

“That’s a truly amazing story,” Andrus murmured. “I don’t suppose you were able to bring any of these unusual devices with you, were you?”

When Blair shook his head, Dez again leaned forward. “We have the ship Trane used to hijack the Eclipse in flight. To say it’s of an infinitely superior design to anything Aurora has doesn’t begin to do it justice. When we’re finished here, I’ll be happy to show it to you.”

Pleased Dez was being cooperative, the colonel nodded, but continued to question Blair and Koby for another thirty minutes on the conditions of their imprisonment. After dismissing them with Jourdan, he shut off the recorder. “The disappearance of those two has been well documented, but frankly, I find their willingness to adapt, to merely go along with their captor, rather than attempt to escape him, the most terrifying aspect of their ordeal. Clearly they were drugged while on the transport ships. I wonder if it didn’t continue while they were on Zareba.”

Even remembering the stupefying affects of the liqueur they had been given, Blaise doubted it and reached over to take Dez’s hand. “While it would be so much easier for me to accept my brother’s attitude had he been drugged, I don’t believe Trane resorted to anything that crude. He is a man of immense personal charm, colonel, and his most powerful weapon is simply himself.”

Greatly intrigued, Andrus again turned on the recorder, and having reviewed Dez’s statement, he questioned him thoroughly. More interested in what Dez had found on Zareba than on the unapproved manner in which he had gotten there, he didn’t criticize his initiative. Eager to see the ship Dez described, he requested an immediate viewing.

As they walked over to the hangar, Dez leaned down to whisper in Blaise’s ear. “Don’t worry. I warned Sula to put on some clothes.”

Knowing Sula, Blaise was uncertain what to expect, but she was respectably clad in a pair of blue mechanic’s overalls, and was even wearing shoes. Still, her wild burgandy hair kept her from looking like anything other than the free spirit she was. She welcomed Colonel Andrus to her domain and provided a thorough analysis of the Phantom’s capabilities.

“While I suppose Tierradyne might possibly employ a genius who could have designed such superb engines, the navigational computer provides an important clue as to his true identity. It speaks with an accent our expert couldn’t match with any known accent pattern either on Earth, or any of the colonies. Would you like to hear it?”

“Certainly.” Andrus followed Sula into the ship and took the copilot’s seat.

When Sula accessed the computer, Blaise, standing by the hatch, shivered at the sound of Trane’s voice. She looked up at Dez, but he was concentrating on Colonel Andrus’s reaction. He didn’t appear to be worried, but she felt sick clear through. The computer provided the standard responses to Sula’s inqueries on the ship’s readiness for flight, but each word was flavored with Trane’s mocking arrogance.

The colonel needed nothing more in the way of evidence to come to the stunning conclusion that Trane Mardag was very likely an alien being. The possibility of meeting him provided such a thrill, he had to work to control his enthusiasm. As he left the Phantom, he thanked Sula, then drew Dez and Blaise to a halt just outside the hangar. He stared out over the red desert, and fought not to succumb to the intense heat.

“I brought security troops with me,” he confided, “and they will accompany me to Zareba. I’ll present the evidence against Mardag to the commander of the Tierradyne base, and insist upon his immediate arrest. I imagine Tierradyne will cover for him as he’s undoubtedly operating for the firm rather than on his own. This will merely be the first step in our effort to make him accountable for his actions, but I believe it’s vital that there be no further delay. Would you both like to join me? I’ll certainly understand if you’d rather not.”

The five interstellar corporations frequently had grievances against each other, which by treaty were handled by the Alliance, a legislative and judicial body made up of representatives from each of the corporations. By joint agreement, the decisions of the Alliance were binding on them all. While the judgments were never swift, they were dispensed with wisdom and generally regarded as fair.

“I think that’s a smart move,” Dez replied. “Once charges are filed, the Phantom can be impounded as evidence, and we won’t risk losing it. I’d have insisted on going along if you hadn’t asked me. What do you want to do, Blaise?”

Blaise’s mouth was so dry she could scarcely speak, but the possibility of seeing Trane again didn’t appeal to her at all. Then again, she knew she could not bear to remain on Ariel and not know what was happening. “I want to go too. Are you going to take Blair and Koby?”

Andrus frowned unhappily. “I’d rather not. After all, they failed to make even a single escape attempt, and I’d hate to see them go over to Trane’s side. It would weaken our case against him.”

Unable to agree, Dez chose his words carefully. “I think it’s imperative that they do accompany us,” he argued. “It will give them the chance to see Mardag in a whole new light. He related to them as a kindly protector. He’ll behave differently when he’s cornered.”

“Are you hoping he’ll turn surly and insult them?” Blaise asked.

“At the very least.”

Andrus weighed his options carefully, then decided Blair and Koby might be useful as bait to lure Trane Mardag out and facilitate his arrest. He kept that thought to himself, however, and still appeared reluctant to involve them. “Because their testimony is central to the case, I’ll take them along, but I intend to have security personnel guard them closely. Now I propose we take a break, have dinner together later, and then travel during the night to arrive on Zareba in the morning.”

Eager to get underway, Dez would have preferred to leave immediately, but there would be no advantage to their arriving on Zareba in the dead of the night, so he agreed with Colonel Andrus’s plan. He knew by Blaise’s expression she was dreading the whole ordeal, but he was anxious to get it over with, and no matter where Trane Mardag might be from, send him to prison where he belonged.

Colonel Andrus’s Skycruiser landed on Zareba the following morning. The head of the mining complex, a Colonel Weiss, whom neither Dez nor Blaise had met, greeted them. Dressed in Tierradyne’s familiar tan uniform, he was cordial but perplexed.

“I don’t recall a contingent from Aurora ever visiting us,” he exclaimed. “Has your corporation developed an interest in mining?”

“No,” Andrus informed him. “We’ve come to arrest Trane Mardag for air piracy, kidnapping, and wrongful imprisonment. I hope you’ll cooperate, and produce him without further delay.”

A stocky, red-haired man, Weiss could not have been more shocked, and his florid cheeks filled with a bright blush that nearly matched the startling shade of his hair. “The mines, the maintenance hangars, and the testing division are three entirely separate operations, Colonel. I have absolutely no control over the testing division, which in point of fact is no longer here. The whole unit was relocated earlier in the week. I was informed there was an incident of industrial espionage which necessitated their immediate move to another location.” He gestured toward the complex at the south end of the field.

“I’ll be happy to provide you with a guide, but you won’t find a single soul from the testing division left stationed here to question.”

His chance to apprehend an alien snatched from his grasp, Andrus reacted with a vile curse. “Where has Mardag gone?” he then asked.

“I’ve absolutely no idea,” Colonel Weiss replied. “As I said, we’re separate operations and Trane didn’t reveal their destination. You’ll have to contact our headquarters on Earth for that information.”

As infuriated as Andrus that Trane had gotten away, Dez stepped forward. “Do you mind if we look around?” he asked. “My wife and I were here only last week, and would like to show Colonel Andrus the magnificent gardens.”

“Look around all you like. While some of the housing units are occupied by mining personnel, the office complex is deserted. You won’t be disturbing anyone. If there’s anything more I can do, don’t hesitate to ask before you leave.”

Eager to explore, Dez waited until Weiss was out of earshot to speak. “We’ll take Blair and Koby with us,” he offered. “They missed seeing the gardens too.”

“I don’t care anything about gardens. I want to see where they were held,” Andrus demanded, and bringing along a half dozen security men to watch the cadet and pilot, he followed as Dez and Blaise walked toward the last hangar. Using the code they had seen Trane key in, they opened the outer doors and led the way inside. The Phantom Dez had flown was gone, as was every bit of equipment that had once lined the curved walls.

Dez winked at Blaise, and used the code to open the second set of doors. Again, this portion of the hangar was bare. The heavy slab concealing the underground tunnel was in place, but without the block and tackle, all the security men were needed to raise it and lay it aside. The lights were still burning in the tunnel, and the once-locked doors stood open, but the workroom was now stripped bare and not even the long tables remained. As for the living quarters beyond, everything had been left broken and scattered and lay exactly where it had fallen during the fight between Trane and Dez.

Blair walked around the room, and moved an occasional scrap with a desultory kick. He jammed his hands into his pockets and looked ready to cry. “You know where he’s gone, don’t you?” he asked musingly.

“If he’s smart, he’s gone home,” Dez replied, “and we won’t have to deal with him ever again.”

Blair shook his head. “You don’t even know what we’ve lost.”

“Oh, but we do,” Blaise cried. “We’ve lost the opportunity to be treated as naughty children by a man who considers himself a superior being. He’s far from superior, Blair. He’s an egotistical monster who used every one of us for his own evil purposes. I hope we never see another of his kind. Now, you can continue to mope around like you have been all Week, or you can wake up and choose to be on our side, the right side, again. Then maybe the next time you disregard the rules and get in trouble, I just might consider rescuing you again.”

Blaise turned on her heel and walked out. “I’m going to go see if my wedding dress is still in my closet.”

Dez hurried to catch up with her and took her hand. “I’m real proud of you. I just hope you shocked Blair to his senses.”

“I should have done it days ago.” Blaise was mad not only with Blair, but also with herself for not behaving better too. When they reached the apartment they had used, they found the clothes they left behind gone. “I don’t really care about the gown,” she revealed, “but you did look awfully good in that copper uniform.”

She hadn’t flirted with him in days, and Dez sent a longing glance toward the bed, then decided they ought not to linger. “You’ve still got a Scorpion here, and what’s left of mine ought to fit in the Skycruiser’s cargo hold. Why don’t we fly your Scorpion back to Ariel? It will give us time to be by ourselves, and make some plans.”

No longer afraid of what those plans might be, Blaise looped her arms around his waist and snuggled close. Trane might have run away, but she was confident Dez never would.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Blair sat down on the end of Blaise’s bed. They had been home three days preparing for the wedding, and he had fallen back into the academy routine so easily it now seemed as though he had never been away. “It will take a lot more studying without you here to help me,” he confessed, “but I intend to graduate first in our class. Are you coming back for graduation?”

When Blaise had left the academy in December, there had been no splendid ceremony to honor her. She was tempted to join Blair in the procession. Because she wanted to remain with Dez, she had followed up on her request to join the testing branch, and had been accepted. Even being new, she was confident Colonel Andrus would approve her request to return to the academy.

“Yes,” she announced suddenly. “The academy owes me a graduation, and I’ll be here to share yours.”

“Thanks, sis, for everything.”

Blaise turned in front of the mirror. She had chosen another white gown with simple lines, but the high neckline and long sleeves of this one were embroidered with pearls. There was no need for the elegant gold necklace she had put away along with the dia-mond ring, and earrings. Her hair was swirled atop her head, and she was wearing a pair of pearl earrings which had belonged to her maternal grandmother. Afraid she looked deceptively demure, she focused on her brother.

“For what? I want to be here to graduate too.”

Blair rose and went to the door. He had grown while he had been away, and his cadet uniform had had to be altered to accommodate his new size. “For still wanting to be my sister when I couldn’t see past Trane’s marvelous inventions to the man himself, or appreciate how difficult it had been for you to find me.”

Blaise did not like to even think about Trane Mar-dag. She did not ever want to know what had happened between them on the nights she couldn’t remember on Zareba, but the one delicious kiss she did recall had left her marked forever. “He was an amazing man. It’s not surprising Tierradyne’s refusing to divulge his whereabouts. Aurora wouldn’t give him up either.”

“He said, ”we‘ can move among you, Blaise. That has to mean there are more of his kind scattered through the corporations. I don’t know if I’d recognize the others, but after graduation, I intend to find Trane. You needn’t worry. I won’t be nearly so gullible when next we meet. In fact, I might get close to him again just to spy on the bastard.“

“That would be like dancing in quicksand,” Blaise warned. “Don’t even consider it. Just let him go. He’s too clever by half, and he’ll self-destruct before long.”

Blair nodded to concede the point, but he didn’t really believe Trane’s superior intelligence would cause his ruin. “You look absolutely spectacular. Things certainly have changed since last fall. I was ready to kill Desmond Sanchez for hurting you, and now he’ll be my brother-in-law. I know you must love him or you’d not have agreed to marry him a second time.”

“I adore him,” Blaise admitted easily. “Besides, we’ve no record the first ceremony ever took place, and that might prove to be extremely awkward when we decide to have children.”

“I can hardly wait. I hope you have twins.” Blair checked his watch. “Looks like it’s time to go on over to the chapel. There should be quite a crowd.”

“You should have seen your memorial service,” Blaise teased. “There wasn’t enough room inside for everyone who came to tell you goodbye.”

Obviously pained by his posthumous popularity, Blair raised his hand. “Please. Don’t say another word. Stealing the Eclipse was the stupidest stunt I’ve ever pulled, and I’m going to follow Aurora’s rules to the letter from now on.” He held the door for her. “Don’t you need a veil?”

“No. I told Dez I was going to wear my Medusa helmet.”

Blair laughed, but somehow he thought it might be the perfect choice for his adventurous sister.

Dez ran his finger around the inside of his collar and hoped it would be a very long time before he was forced to wear his dress uniform again. “You’ve got the ring?”

Jourdan slapped Dez on the back. “For the third time, yes. Now come on, it’s time to get into place. You don’t want Blaise to walk down the aisle and not find you waiting for her.”

“There’s no danger of that.”

Jourdan drew himself up to his full height. When he had been assigned to the testing branch, Dez had been one of his idols. He was deeply honored to be his best man, but felt entitled to offer a bit of advice. “Blaise is a remarkable woman. I’ll always be sorry I didn’t marry her when I had the chance. Don’t waste yours. Do whatever it takes to make her happy.”

Jourdan was sincerely attempting to be helpful, but Dez knew what a lucky man he was without needing to be told. “I intend to,” he assured him. “Now let’s go.”

Dez had promised Blaise a wedding in the academy chapel, and he wanted it to be perfect. As he entered the chapel, he nodded to friends seated in the front pews. There were plenty of curious glances directed his way from cadets and instructors alike, and he doubted many of them believed he and Blaise had fallen in love while rescuing Blair. He had learned a bitter lesson last fall when he had sacrificed the woman he loved for his career, and now he did not care what anyone thought, or knew, about their romance.

He spotted Sula sitting with Koby Burne, and winked at her. It had been her expertise on the Phantom that had won her a transfer to Fleet Command rather than anything he had done, and he was real proud of her. She was wearing a burgundy dress that complimented her hair, and while the outfit was a bit wild for a stately wedding at the academy, for Sula, it was downright tame.

Blair escorted his mother to her seat in the first pew, then moved into place across from Dez. While he was an unlikely attendant for the bride, he had been the only one she had wanted. She was his best friend too, and he was proud to have such an important part in her wedding.

Blaise and her family had chosen their favorite music for the ceremony, and as a majestic wedding march began, Dez had a difficult time keeping his smile from spreading into an ungentlemanly grin. When he had arrived at the academy, taking a wife was the last possibility he would have considered, but now he could barely remember a time when Blaise had not been part of his life. While he could well imagine how nervous most grooms were, he was relaxed, confident marrying Blaise was the smartest move he had ever made.

Under any other circumstances, Edric Quinn would have had a difficult time accepting Dez into the family, but because he owed him an eternal debt of gratitude for rescuing Blair, he was determined to treat him as a son. He walked Blaise down the aisle, his posture proud, and his smile confident. When he placed her hand in Dez’s and moved to join her mother, he sincerely wished them every happiness.

Blaise carried a glorious bouquet of white orchids grown on La Ultima, and she handed it to Blair to hold. She remembered the doubts clouding her mind at their first wedding, but she had none now, and gave Dez’s fingers a joyous squeeze. They had a male chaplain this time, and she had no difficulty at all following his words. She spoke her vows with the confidence she had lacked before, and when Dez slipped a plain gold band on her finger, she knew the ring was truly a gift from his heart, as was hers for him. As soon as they were pronounced husband and wife, she almost leapt into Dez’s arms, and he kissed her with a passion that made every guest sigh with envy.

Rivera Coraggio brought a handkerchief to her eyes to wipe away her tears and Nona Chane thought she was moved as so many others were by the beauty of the ceremony. “They make a striking couple,” she whispered, “but I still have my suspicions that they were involved last fall.”

There was no longer any point in embellishing her tales of her fleeting relationship with Dez, but Rivera didn’t comment on Nona’s remark. She simply watched the stunning couple walk down the aisle, and hoped one day she would find a man who would look at her in the adoring way that Dez regarded his new bride.

Dez had known where he wanted to bring Blaise for their wedding night from the moment they had begun to plan their second ceremony. He had considered trying to fool her, then discarded the idea as a poor way to begin their marriage. He wanted only the truth between them now, and made a silent vow that neither of them would ever have a reason to lie.

As he banked the Scorpion over La Ultima, he reached for Blaise’s hand. “There are so many places I want to take you, but this is perfect for tonight.”

Blaise sighed contentedly. “This truly is a magical island, isn’t it?”

Dez brought her hand to his lips. “No, the magic is in you.”

As soon as they left the ship, Blaise yanked off her boots and began to peel away the flight suit she had worn to begin their honeymoon trip. By the time she reached the water, she was nude, and dove beneath the waves with a mermaid’s exuberant grace. Coming to the surface, she waved to Dez, but he didn’t need to be coaxed to join her erotic play.

A strong swimmer, he captured her easily in his arms, his hold light rather than confining. “Being with you is better than flying,” he vowed before kissing her deeply, “and being with you here on La Ultima is a taste of paradise.”

Her legs laced in his, Blaise flung her arms wide, and lay back on the water as if she were floating on a cloud of euphoria. The sea’s sultry heat lapped over her breasts and swirled around Dez, creating a roiling motion that swiftly inspired more than affectionate games. Treading water, he drew Blaise back into his arms. When she wrapped her legs around his waist, he entered her with slow, shallow thrusts, seeking a glorious way to drown in her love.

Weightless in the Paraiso Sea, they swam in the blissful current of life, until the rapture that swelled within them drew them into such a fervent embrace they slowly sank beneath the waves. In that glorious moment, the danger of drowning was real, but joined clear to their souls, neither felt a single tinge of fear. As they broke through the surface, Blaise continued to cling to Dez until the last throbbing beat of their passion was dissolved in the waves’ endless roar. She again leaned back, curling in a languid sommersault that took her deep, then brought her up behind Dez. She wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her cheek on his shoulder.

“The first time we came here, I admired your tattoo, but couldn’t help but wonder how dinosaurs made love. Does anyone know?”

Ferrying Blaise on his back, Dez swam for the shore, then pulled her down on the foam-kissed sand and covered her face with tender kisses. “Do I remind you of a lumbering beast?” he asked.

Blaise combed his wet hair off his forehead and caressed his cheek. “Not at all, but it might be fun to pretend we’re part of a primeval world.” The tide was coming in and the sea bubbled up over her legs and lapped at her waist. “Then again,” she whispered seductively, “you’ve always fascinated me just as you are.”

“

“Fascinate‘ isn’t strong enough a word,” Dez breathed against her throat. “I’m obsessed with you.”

“Isn’t that dangerous?”

Dez leaned back slightly. “What do you think?”

His dark eyes danced with a teasing light and his rakish grin made the answer obvious. Blaise raked her nails up his sides and ground her hips against his. “You’re dangerous all right, but it’s what I love most about you.”

Dez responded with a low growl he smothered against her breast. They were a dangerous pair indeed, and he exulted in it. “I love you, Blaise.”

Lost in each other, the small isle truly was paradise, and the love in their hearts created an Eden they would never leave.

Epilogue

Trane crushed the long, white gown against his face and inhaled deeply. Beneath the last traces of floral perfume, Blaise’s own provocative scent clung to the silken fabric. Haunted by the sweetness of her memory, the fragrance touched his soul. He had been convinced she was destined to become his bride, but tragically, fate had disagreed.

Draping the lovely gown across his lap, he gazed up at the stars and wondered how many worlds he would have to invade to find the woman meant for him. A traveler in a strange galaxy, he longed for home, but he would not return alone. A prince born to rule, he refused to ascend to a throne without a princess by his side.

Since leaving Zareba, his melancholy moods were growing more frequent, and lingering to rob his life of any hope of joy. As he stared into the blackness of the night, he longed to be with Blaise. As he had once confessed, he envied Desmond Sanchez to the point of pain. What good were the riches of the universe, when love, the only treasure worth seeking, constantly eluded him?

He did not rise until the first light of dawn tinted the sky with a pale golden blush. Then, desperate for sleep, he put away the precious gown, and went to bed, where his dreams were blessed with the vision of a woman, fair and wild, who danced and sang with a captivating abandon. When he awoke, his first impulse was to reach for her, but she had been no more than an enticing illusion.

A cry of despair escaped Trane’s lips, but convinced the magnificent creature had been an omen, a promise of the devotion he had been denied, he rose, and filled with courage, continued his journey toward love.