“Nothing much, really. There’s been some weird things happening on Far Away lately. It would make sense, that’s all.”
“You’re probably right. Listen, I’m going to leave you with my team now, okay? I’ll start working on a way to get to Boongate.”
“How?” Vic asked.
Alic stood up. “The Admiral. He’s got the clout to get us through.”
“Ha! He’s not going to accept this.”
“If he doesn’t accept this, then I quit.” He looked around at their startled faces, the faint smiles of approval. “It’s not much of a threat, I know. But it’s the only one I’ve got.”
“Then you tell him we quit with you,” John King said. The rest of them said, “Hell yes” and “Me, too.”
Vic put his hand on Alic’s shoulder. “Good luck. And thanks, Boss.”
When the door to Alic’s office shut, he had to sit down quickly and blow out a long breath. There was only so far impetuosity could carry you. The team was looking in at him through the glass. It actually felt very good indeed.
Oh, what the hell. That bastard Tarlo tried to kill me. That makes it personal.
His virtual finger touched the Admiral’s icon. No hesitation, he was pleased to see. The Admiral’s e-butler told Alic that his access level had been reduced to grade seven. “I’ll wait,” he told the program.
It took two and a half hours before Rafael Columbia responded. “I can give you five minutes,” he told Alic.
“We’ve located Tarlo.”
“Then arrest him.”
“He’s on Boongate.”
“Screw. It’ll have to wait, Hogan. We’ll grab him when he comes out wherever Sheldon sends him.”
“We need him now, sir. He’s a Starflyer agent.” Alic closed his eyes, half expecting a lightning bolt to slam down out of the sky and roast him behind his desk.
“Christ, not you, too? I thought you were reliable.”
“I am reliable, sir; that’s why I’m telling you this. Think about it. Tarlo’s a traitor, a double agent, that’s beyond question; I was one of the people he was shooting at on Illuminatus. Who is he working for, sir? If not the Starflyer, who is trying to destroy the Commonwealth? Tell me. Give me another name, and I’ll chase them for as long as it takes.”
There was a long pause. “You can’t get to Boongate,” the Admiral said. “This is classified, but the wormholes to the Second48 will not be reopened. The War Cabinet decided we cannot risk a stampede back into the Commonwealth. Those populations must go into the future.”
“You have the authority, sir. You can get CST to open the Boongate wormhole for us. My team and I will stay on Boongate afterward and go into the future with the rest of the population. But we must get there before the evacuation. We must establish the Starflyer’s intent. The navy needs to know. Surely you must see that?”
“You really believe it, don’t you?”
“We all do, sir.”
“Very well, Hogan, if this is to happen it doesn’t get put in the files until there’s a successful conclusion. Nonnegotiable.”
“I understand, sir.”
“Good. Put your arrest team together and get over to Wessex. I’ll see what I can do at this end.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“And, Hogan, if you’re wrong, stay on Boongate. There will be no future for you, not anywhere at any time. Understand?”
“Understood, sir.”
***
Mellanie walked down the mansion’s broad corridor with her black lacy robe flowing out behind her. The sculpted swan wall lights were turned down to a rouge glimmer, deepening the shadows between the arches. It was two o’clock in the morning, and no one else was about.
Guilt at what she was doing only made it more exciting. Morton hadn’t stirred when she left their room. Randtown had left him more tired than he was willing to admit.
The door opened before she even tapped on it. Nigel was standing there, dressed in a loosely tied emerald bathrobe. The greedy smile on his face was one she’d seen on men countless times before—she’d thought it might be different with him. He took her hand, and hurriedly pulled her into the bedroom.
“What—” she began.
“I wouldn’t want my wives to get jealous,” he murmured as he gave the corridor a theatrical check before closing the door.
“They’re not, so don’t pretend they are.”
“Okay.” He was pressed up against her, hands removing her gown. His mouth moved to hers.
Mellanie planted a hand on his chest and pushed them apart. “Are you going to say hello, first?”
“Don’t play the Victorian bride. You came to me.” He grinned, and walked over to the huge bed. “Now come here.” He patted the furry mattress, which rippled sluggishly.
“What is this, your main orgy room?” she asked archly.
“It would be your room.”
She gave the classic white and purple decor an appreciative glance as she went over to sit beside him. “Nice, I guess.”
“Course, we’d have orgies in it. Seriously.”
She had to laugh, he was so outrageous, and honest. “Yes, I know. I met Aurelie earlier. Talk about making a girl feel inferior. And she didn’t even need reprofiling to look like that.”
“You see, you even like my other wives. What more of an incentive do you need?” His hand slipped off one of her negligee’s shoulder straps and moved down to the exposed breast.
“This is very flattering, Nigel.”
“I want it to be pleasurable, not flattering.”
Mellanie moaned hungrily. He’d got her other shoulder strap off; the negligee crumpled around her waist. His hands knew exactly how to move over her skin, the way she had to spend forever teaching other men. “It already is,” she confessed.
“So say yes.”
“No. Ahha.” She actually felt her body shake from the gentle pressure his fingers applied. It wasn’t a response she could control.
Nigel lowered her down on the mattress, then unfastened his toweling gown.
Mellanie giggled. “Nigel!”
“What did you expect?” he asked modestly. “I am the ruler of the galaxy, after all.”
“God, a man who altered his cock to match his ego.”
He grinned. “What makes you think I had it altered?”
Mellanie’s giggles returned big time. “I take it back, your ego is bigger.”
“Turn over.”
“Why?”
“Massage. To start with.”
“Oh.” She rolled onto her front. Oil that was body-warm was dripped onto her spine. He began to rub it in. “How did you know about the Cypress Island?” she asked.
“If I told you that you’ll just be cross with me. I want to have sex with you too much for that.”
“I won’t be cross.”
“You will. Why won’t you marry me?”
“Honestly?”
“Yes.”
“I wouldn’t want to share you with anyone. I like this, this is fun. And I’d even enjoy joining in with your other wives. But as a permanent thing…That’s not me. Sorry.”
“Hey, I love it. Jealousy.”
“I’m not jealous.” Mellanie tried to twist around to protest, but his hands reached her buttocks. She had to clamp her teeth to stop squealing.
“What does the SI get out of your arrangement?” Nigel asked.
“God, is there anything you don’t know?”
“I don’t know that for a start.”
“It says it just wants to know what’s going on, that’s all. I can get into places where there’s no unisphere coverage.”
“Figures. So it knew about the nature of the Primes?”
“It found out at Randtown. It hacked into their communications through my inserts.”
“Goddamn thing never told us. Bastard.” Nigel moved down to her thighs.
“Do you think it’s hostile as well?”
“I think it’s a snob. I think it looks down on us as the lower-class neighbors bringing down the tone of the galaxy. It’s not actively belligerent, but like all snobs it has a fascination for what it’s not. Hence you, and others like you. It also has sentiment, which is why it helps us out on rare occasions. Yet it will always rationalize that as something else entirely: charity or consideration born of superiority. The trouble is, I don’t know if it would help us in the face of genocide. It probably doesn’t know either. I suspect it will play its waiting game until the end. And that’s going to be too late for us.”
