“And I would be witness on his behalf,” Llume said.
Skot looked doubtful. “I’m not sure—”
“Oh come on, Solarian!” Melody said. “One kiss won’t hurt you that much. And it would certainly be a case for the Captain’s attention, since I’m not of the ship’s complement.”
“But you and the Captain…”
Just how much news had spread about the ship? Had that single episode forever defined her as the Captain’s mistress? “Yes, he would certainly want to know! Maybe we had better rehearse it,” Melody said mischievously. “You are just entering the lounge, here, and I jump out at you and—” She made a fine leap and planted a firm kiss on his open mouth. He had to put his arms around her, lest she fall. “And you try to push me away, but I cling—”
“Unlimb that man!” Llume cried against the wall. “You belong to the Captain!”
Just so. “Uh, let’s make a minor alteration in the dialogue,” Melody suggested, embarrassed.
“The Captain shall settle your hash!” Llume said.
Melody paused. “That still does not quite—”
“This is a matter for the Captain’s attention!”
“Beautiful!” Melody exclaimed, satisfied at last.
“Now, would you disengage,” Skot pleaded. “Before I”—his arms tightened about her—“before I forget…”
Melody disengaged quickly. There were unkind aspects to this game.
They lined up before Captain Boyd, in his office: two in Solarian form, one in Polarian, and the magnet. “Request privacy in this matter,” Llume said formally against the floor. “Concerns protocol.”
Dash eyed Skot. The Lieutenant’s uniform was in disarray, the Imperial Outworld blazon smudged, his hair mussed. “So I see.” He waved a finger through the control field on his desk, and the door clamped shut. There were different kinds of doors on the ship; this was one of the swinging variety. “We are securely private, now.”
Melody stepped forward. “This is no complaint, Captain. It was a ruse to gain private audience without suspicion. We have a crucial report to make.”
“No complaint?” Dash inquired, brow lifted. “Slammer?”
The magnet bobbed affirmatively. It hadn’t occurred to Melody that Slammer was also a witness, but of course he was. Good. That was one report the Captain would trust.
Dash focused on Melody. “This must be a serious matter.”
“I have ascertained that all your top officers except those present are Andromedan hostages,” Melody said, anticipating his incredulous amazement. He would take a lot of convincing!
“You are very clever,” Dash said. “How would you like to marry me?”
Melody shook her head. “Perhaps you did not understand—” She halted. “What?”
Dash stood up and walked smoothly around the desk. He came to stand before her, ignoring the others. He put forth his hand to touch hers, and their auras overlapped. As always, there was the electric thrill. The sensation was so wonderful it made mental concentration difficult. “I realize my aura does not match yours,” he said. “But there are other things I offer. Travel about the galaxies, incarnation in a hundred unique forms. We can make love while winging through the warm mists of Zulchos, or swimming the nether-fen of Pemch. We can explore the tunnel library of Cluh, where every book is a complex of odors, sleep aboard the candy clouds of Hiaa. And we can read the Tarot in an Animation Temple—together.”
The thing was ludicrous, this proposal of permanent mating amidst the crisis of the ship. It was completely out of context. It was essential that immediate action be taken against the hostages, lest ship, fleet, segment, and galaxy be destroyed. Yet the force of the Captain’s aura, mind, and personality were such that she had to consider his proposal seriously. She wanted to throw herself into his human arms, to marry him—never to be separated.
But in a moment her knowledge of herself reasserted itself. She was no young buxom Solarian girl, but an old Mintakan neuter. Like the girl of cinders of Yael’s story-memory. She might dance with a prince—but at midnight she would revert to reality. You cannot fit my script, Melody thought sadly. And I dare not fit yours. Even though she desperately wanted to.
Dash had almost chained the lady—but failed because she was not a lady.
Perceiving her negation, Dash disengaged and returned to his desk. “There is one you did not test,” he said, “with your Tarot.”
Melody was the incredulous one, not he! She had not yet had a chance to tell him of her technique! “You knew what I was doing?”
“I know Tarot. I must admit that you are more proficient in it than I, however. It has been a pleasure to watch you perform.”
“But if you knew—you must have known about the hostages yourself! Why didn’t you tell me?”
Dash leaned back in his web-seat. “Let me approach this obliquely. Let’s assume the Andromedans wish to subvert a galaxy by transfer infiltration. They possess the technique of involuntary hosting. Unfortunately, it still requires a more intense aura to suppress that of the host-entity, and it is also possible to counter hostage infiltration by the use of really intense auras. Thus the program is vulnerable. What do you suppose the Andromedans should do to safeguard their effort?”
It was Skot who answered. “Eliminate the Milky Way galaxy’s highest auras.”
Dash turned to him. “But how should they do that? They don’t even know the identities of those auras, and obviously lack the facilities to make a thorough search. Especially in the face of increasingly determined counterespionage.”
Now Llume joined the game. “They could set a trap. Bait it and wait for something to swim in.” She paused. “But what would be bait for an aura?”
Suddenly Melody felt a cold premonition. A trap baited for high-aura entities…
“Very clever, Dash,” she said crisply, though there was horrible pain inside her. “Or should I say, — of Andromeda?”
Skot jerked erect. “What?”
“The lady is remarkably perceptive,” Dash observed calmly. “In addition to having the highest aura in two galaxies. I consider it a privilege to have captured her.”
Skot stared at him. “You, Captain—hostage?”
The Captain nodded. “Indeed, yes, Skot of Kade. I am Bird of Dash, or a Dash Boid, as you might render it. Bird, boid, boyd, however you wish, for we are winged in our natural state.” He turned to Melody, and now there did seem to be a birdlike quality to his quick motion. “As you see, you are confined here, with my magnet, in my power. Your situation is hopeless. But Galaxy Andromeda is prepared to offer you most enticing terms, for we are great admirers of aura.”
Melody snorted. It was a gesture the human respiratory apparatus was good at. “I doubt you can offer any enticing enough, bird.”
“To begin with, the lives of your two friends,” Dash murmured, glancing meaningfully at Skot and Llume. “And of course your own.”
“At the price of our galaxy?” Melody demanded. She knew without asking that neither Skot nor Llume would capitulate to such a personal threat.
“You could actually salvage your galaxy,” Dash said. “With your help, we could master the Milky Way with the expenditure of much less energy than presently projected. Since we propose to recoup that energy of conquest from the substance of the Milky Way, we would thus salvage a significant portion, perhaps ten percent of the total energy mass of the Milky Way. That is well worth your consideration, Melody of Mintaka.”
He knew her identity! What an effective trap this had been! The best efforts of the segment loyalists had only procured her aura for Andromeda. Yet she could not accept defeat. She knew she lacked the straight raw courage Skot had, but she had to resist somehow. “If I yield to you,” she said, “my galaxy may die. If I oppose you, my galaxy may live. We defeated Andromeda once before.”