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"Later," commanded the Emperor. "You may leave now. Sign out for the rest of this watch."
Naked, he stood to attention, bowed formally, and said, "Yes, your Excellency." He gathered his clothes and left.
Krinata told herself she must not collapse now or she'd lose her tiny victory. Her role called for her to stand up, legs braced, hands on hips, chin up and challenge any other man in the room to a tumble. But she stayed on the floor, trying not to make it so obvious that her legs were curled to hide her nakedness.
"I've a much more interesting idea," said Zinzik with the air of one about to pull off a final coup. "That one! The female on the end!"
Two guards brought Desdinda forth. She struggled, still weak from the stu
"Surely," said the Emperor, "there's someone here who's had a yen to try a Dushau female?"
There were many volunteers snapping crisp, eager salutes to their Emperor. This ship, Krinata belatedly realized, was ma
The Dushau looked at her as if she were half a worm found in a fruit. There was a wild look to her eyes, and a peculiar purple paleness to her teeth. There was nothing left of the poised Oliat officer they'd rescued from the exploded ship. This was a broken personality, and though it was a desperate tragedy, Krinata's only thought was not ever to have to see that look in Jindigar's eyes.
As an athletic-looking Holot separated from the guards and stalked toward Desdinda, the Dushau scrambled to her feet and whirled to face Zinzik. Krinata saw Prey lunge forward as if to forestall Desdinda's move, but Jindigar caught his arm and held him squirming. She was sure that Jindigar intended to take that lunge in Prey's place, but just then Desdinda called out, "Stop! / will provide your confession. I, too, have been Oliat."
Jindigar froze. Zinzik stood, raising his hand to stop the approaching Holot, triumph lighting his eyes. She was sure Jindigar had stopped breathing, but then she heard his inarticulate cry of anguish, frustration and defeat.
At a snap of Zinzik's wrist, six guards closed in around Desdinda. She was snatched off the floor and pushed along to a chorus of lewd remarks. Their guards gathered them into marching order, Krinata and Jindigar bringing up the rear this time. As they were about to pass out of the audience chamber, Krinata glanced back and saw Zinzik take a beamer from one of his guards. She snatched at Jindigar's sleeve, making him turn so as not to be shot in the back.
But the Emperor aimed the weapon nonchalantly at the Rashion who'd failed to spot Jindigar's favored friend and drilled him neatly through the lower abdomen.
The creature screamed and fell writhing. The trainer clenched his fists, but remained unmoving. One of the other guards asked, "Excellency, shall I finish it off for you?"
"I didn't miss my shot!" replied Zinzik, offended. "Let it die, serving as a lesson."
"Yes, Excellency."
Krinata noted the man didn't ask at whom the lesson was aimed. She, too, was afraid she knew. Hate is unbecoming in a Zavaro
That's not an Emperor. That's a lowlife!
As they were being herded back to their cells, Krinata and Bell forced to walk naked, clutching their clothes, ogled by every passing male, the Dushau attempted to reorganize so they would be grouped together instead of scattered one to a cell. But as they entered the brig corridor, the guards insisted they regroup with the same cellmates as before.
In the confusion, Krinata saw Rita slinking along the bulkhead and back into their cell. A scurry was just emerging. The scurry put out an ocular to inspect the creature, then rolled around it and went on its way. Oh, if they take her away from Jindigar...
When the guards were satisfied, they were herded into their cells. Krinata suffered a pinch on the rear from a human male who leered when she jumped and squealed. But then the bars closed between them.
As the guards withdrew, Krinata stood holding her breath, waiting for her heart to calm down. But her native armor crumbled, strained beyond tolerance, and she flung herself onto her cot, curled up in a ball and gave in to gut wrenching sobs.
She wanted to become wholly mindless, obliterating all the reality about her, but she was aware of Frey watching in helpless dismay, Storm comforting Bell. Jindigar asked something, and Bell replied that she didn't know how to help. Krinata was human, and an aristocrat.
Jindigar said, "Some things are universal."
His whole life has been compromised, and he wants to help me?
The beds, jammed against one another, jiggled as they settled themselves. Krinata didn't even have the strength to fling a cover over her bare back. She buried her streaming nose and eyes in a bunch of sheet and took an orgasmic satisfaction in uncontrolled weeping, wallowing in the shame of such weakness. There was no point in being strong. All was lost anyway.
Jindigar moved onto the cot behind her and began to knead her back. Tentatively at first, and then with more assurance as she didn't shove him away, he went after the knotted tension with a medic's precision. The soft, napped skin of his hands felt warm, not pasty soft like the Emperor's nor caloused like the soldier's. The hard fingertips, lacking nails, were perfect. There was no trace of human masculinity about him.
Gradually, she felt the eruption had spent itself, and she knew she couldn't impose her hysteria on everyone else like this. She held her breath against the hiccups and at last could say, "Thank you. I'm sorry."
"For what?" asked Jindigar in a whisper.
She turned and saw Bell asleep across Storm's lap, Storm sitting with his head propped against the wall, eyes closed.
"Bell's so much more... that was just ridiculous of me."
"Are you embarrassed?"
"Yes. And it's all for nothing."
"I don't understand. You did the only thing—" He stopped, his eyes going to the ceiling, and he put a finger over her lips. She figured the spy eyes were working, though she could detect no sign of them.
A few seconds later, the eye went off and Jindigar said, "I'm sorry they caught us like this. Krinata, would it help you to know that in another moment, I'd have broken?"
Suddenly, she really was embarrassed. She'd never felt so with him. "I would have, too. Besides, what good did it do? Now Zinzik has his volunteer!" The bitterness choked her. "Damn that woman!"
Again he put a finger over her lips. "No. Poor Desdinda. She suffered so from the destruction of her Oliat. It was her first Oliat, and only her second office. And then, in the midst of that nightmare of loss, she fell into the clutches of the most perverted fiend in her private mythology, an Invert. She couldn't accept help from me, and there was no one else, so she gradually lost touch with reality. Then she had to watch her pet fiend perform the ultimate perversion: sullying the sacred Archive. From her point of view, everything Dushauni has been wholly soiled and her confession is to a much lesser crime.
That I was opposed to giving Zinzik what he wanted makes it logically obvious that it's the right thing to do.
"We can't blame her, Krinata. Desdinda perished the day her Oliat died, because she'd been installed in an office far, far beyond her meager talent. It's not her fault."
In that weird state beyond hysteria, Krinata's mind replayed the fragment of overheard conversation with Frey. Now, the young Dushau was in an upper bunk, curled up facing the wall, trying to ignore his awareness of Jindigar. She didn't know how she knew, she just knew. "Jindigar," she asked very softly, "who did you mean to insult that time you told Frey that I had as much talent as Desdinda?"