“Makes sense,” said Milo approvingly. “And I hope we can come to an arrangement where my companion and I can share in this bright future of yours. As payment for what I have to offer you, naturally.”
“What form do you see this payment taking?”
“Well, I prefer to see it as a gift. As to its form—” Milo glanced about the Grand Saloon—“it’s all around you. The Lord Pangloth itself would be quite suitable.”
After a long pause the warlord said softly, “And what could you offer that would be worth a whole Sky Lord in return?”
“Why, a brand new Sky Lord, of course,” Milo answered brightly. “A Sky Lord still in its, so to speak, wrapping paper. All new and shiny and full of precious helium. It will perform much more efficiently than any of the existing Sky Lords, all of which are slowly falling to bits, as you well know. And no doubt it will be full of working Old Science devices as well. It will be a virtual flying treasure trove, and it will be all yours.”
The warlord said dryly, “And where exactly do you have this virgin Sky Lord concealed?”
“Not a Sky Lord, a Sky Angel,” corrected Milo. “And her present home is, naturally, in Paradise.” Milo grinned and pointed upwards.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Are you seriously going into partnership with that … that creature?” Jan asked.
Milo continued to stuff food into his mouth, using the two implements he’d referred to as ‘chopsticks’ with dexterity. She waited impatiently for him to answer, pacing up and down the small Aristo servant’s room they’d been given to use. Finally Milo gave a satisfied belch and said, “Ah, marvellous! To eat Japanese food again after all these years. Are you sure you won’t have more? You’ve only eaten a bit of rice.”
“I’m not hungry. Besides, all the other dishes have meat in them.”
“No, not all.” He picked a bowl up off the table and held it out to her. “This is fish.”
She looked at the glistening white chunks of flesh and grimaced. “Fish meat is still meat.”
“True,” he said, and put a piece of it in his mouth. She looked away in disgust. “Are you going to answer my question?” she demanded.
“All in good time,” he told her. “So why don’t you just sit down and try and relax. Today’s events have come to a very satisfactory conclusion.”
“For you, perhaps.”
“And you too. For one thing you’ve still got your skin, despite your best efforts to lose it. I could have killed you myself when you started your crazy yapping.”
“I couldn’t help it. He made me furious the way he touched Lady Jane’s head, like it was just some toy of his.”
“Lady Jane was past caring, so why should it bother you?” asked Milo as he ate more of the fish.
“Don’t you have any respect for the dead?” she asked coldly.
“I don’t have much respect for the living, so why should I treat the dead differently?” he said and smiled.
Jan looked down at him and nodded. “Yes, you’re no different from him, really. You’re both murderers; he just does his killing on a grander scale.”
“That’s no way to speak to your protector,” he replied brightly. “If it hadn’t been for me you’d be suffering the agonies of the damned right now. He meant what he said about flaying you, you know; he wasn’t just trying to scare you.”
“Yes, I know,” Jan said and shivered. She wrapped her arms around herself.
Milo gave her a leering grin. “It would have been a tragedy if he’d had his threat carried out. Your skin is one of your best features. A pity, though, that you have chosen to cover most of it once again. I much preferred you in Aristo garb.”
“Well, I didn’t.” When she and Milo had been brought to this cabin she had asked him to put in a request with their escort for a change of clothing. At first they had brought her a complicated gown similar to the ones worn by the women who’d been seated at the feet of the warlord. They had been puzzled when she’d refused it and asked instead for man’s clothing. The second time they brought her the garments she was now wearing; loose fitting jacket and trousers, both in black. The only problem was that there were no buttons or other fasteners on the jacket and the only means of keeping it closed was a cloth belt which was inadequate for the task. Still, the clothes felt very comfortable after the constraining Aristo gowns and dresses.
Milo finished the fish and picked up another bowl. “Seaweed,” he said approvingly. “Now this you can eat without violating any of your Minervan principles.”
“I told you I don’t have any appetite. I’m too tense, and worried.”
“What is there to be worried about? We’re in no immediate danger, we have food, shelter and a warm bed. And everything is going as I planned.”
“I’m not worried about me so much as about Ceri,” she told him. “Why can’t you do as I asked and see if you can find out if she’s safe?”
“Because I’ve asked enough favours from the warlord and his minions for the time being. I don’t want to push my luck by pestering him over the whereabouts of a servant girl, even if she is your little bedmate.”
“She is not,” snapped Jan, feeling her face redden.
Milo laughed. “You should see yourself, amazon. The full flush of love. My, what an active sex life you’ve led these past few months—with Prince Caspar, Lady Jane and your precious sea nymph. How different from that sexually reticent little Minervan first encountered the day you came on board the Lord Pangloth.”
“You know why I slept with Caspar and Lady Jane,” she said angrily. “And you’re wrong about Ceri. Yes, I admit I’m in love with her, but we’re not lovers. It’s her choice, not mine.”
“You’ve never slept with her?” he asked with a knowing smile.
“That’s none of your business.”
“I thought so,” he said and laughed again.
Jan fought to keep control of her temper. “Milo, please. I’m begging you to help me find out what’s happened to her.”
Milo put down his chopsticks—all the bowls were empty now—and eyed her speculatively. “Very well,” he said finally. “But in return I want to make love to you. Now. On there.” He pointed at the bed. “What do you say?”
The thought of being in intimate contact with Milo caused a spasm of revulsion to pass through her body. Her automatic reaction was to cry no but she held back—she had to think of Ceri. After a long hesitation she said, thickly, “If that’s what you want, I’ll do it.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Why do I detect such extreme reluctance? What is it about me that you find so unpalatable? You were, after all, able to overcome your Minervan sexual mores when it came to sleeping with Prince Caspar, a man who had a large share of the responsibility for destroying your people. Do you, perhaps, find me physically offensive? It can’t be my smell because I don’t have any.”
Jan did find him physically offensive, but she couldn’t say why exactly. And it wasn’t just his body, but him in total. The more she knew of him the more he unsettled her; the more her conviction grew that he was right when he described himself as no longer being human. He seemed to take pride in this fact, but it awoke in her an atavistic fear … and a sense of revulsion.