“My congratulations, Captain,” the barbarian drawled at last, keeping his eyes on the woman in front of him. “I had not realized you would be so thoughtful as to provide us with entertainment. As you were brought here to dance, wenda, I suggest that you do so.”
The captain’s grin came back, stronger than before, but the woman next to him and her friends were instantly furious.
“What do you mean, dance?” the first one demanded, putting her fists on too-curvy hips. “We’re not here to entertain a bunch of yokels! If you didn’t buy my story that’s too bad, but there’s still nothing you can do about it! We’re here and you have to take care of us!”
Tammad, a lion among sheep, an outstanding warrior even on a world of warriors, rose to his feet to stand in front of the woman, a silly female who looked up at him with a dumbfounded expression. Somehow, Tammad’s l’lendaa were also on their feet, three of them around the second woman, the other three around the third, all of them much larger than any of the women had expected them to be. The captain and his crewmen looked at each other, withdrew half a step from the women they’d been escorting, then quietly put down the luggage they’d been holding.
“If I had my guess,” the captain muttered to the woman nearest him, “I’d say you were about to be taken care of. Don’t ever claim you didn’t ask for it.”
“Hey, wait!” the woman protested faintly, reaching for the captain without taking her eyes off Tammad. Her reach and protest did as much good as mine had done; the captain and his men were already most of the way to the passage that led to the control deck.
“Do you dance well?” the barbarian asked the woman in front of him, staring down at her over folded arms. His voice was no more than mildly curious, and that gave the woman enough false encouragement to try bluster.
“We’re the best!” she tried, raising her chin in his direction and putting her fists back on her hips. “When you want to see the best, you have to pay for it and pay high!”
“Does she speak the truth, Terril?” he asked in that same casual way, keeping his eyes on the woman. I’m sure he was trying to catch me off-guard and thereby seta precedent; it was his bad luck it didn’t work.
“If I were in your employ, I would explain the difference between opinion and fact,” I said, keeping my voice as casual as his had been. “Since I’m not in your employ, you can go jump in a lake.”
I didn’t quite look at him when I said that, but I wouldn’t have taken the words back even if I could have. The flash of annoyed anger he experienced was something I’d have to get used to—that and a lot more—otherwise I was wasting my time refusing to help him. He could make me obey him—he’d certainly done it often enough—but I couldn’t let him force me to work for him.
“Wendaa,” he muttered under his breath, making it sound like a curse. I could feel how close he was to the limit of his patience, but the silly female in front of him couldn’t.
“What are you asking her opinion for?” she demanded, jerking her chin at me. “She don’t even know how to dress. If you want to know how good we are, ask anybody who ever saw us.”
“There is no need to ask anyone at all,” Tammad answered, his tone losing its mildness. “You were instructed to dance for us and you will do so. Should you refuse to obey, you will be punished.”
“Punished?” the woman echoed, shocked. “What are you talking about? You can’t. . . ”
“Renny, wait,” a second woman called, one who hadn’t felt shock at the threat. “Renny, tell them we’ll do it.”
“Are you crazy?” the first woman exploded, turning on the second. “I’m not about to . . .”
“The L.M. Special,” the second woman interrupted again, stepping closer to her friend. “How about the L.M. Special? It’s been months since the last time we did it, and it’d be perfect for them.”
“I’ll say it would,” the first one muttered, turning to glare at Tammad. “Okay, big boy, we’ll dance for you. It’ll only take a minute to get the costumes out.”
The three women picked up their luggage and walked to the opposite side of the lounge area, two of them experiencing a “just wait!” sense of satisfaction and anticipation, the third somewhat nervous but determined not to show it. They all began opening their multi-colored day suits, and even though their backs were turned, the seven l’lendaa watching them inwardly began to hum. The women had plans of some sort, the men had plans of their own, and I didn’t need to be put out an airlock to know I’d be much happier somewhere else.
“Where do you go?” Tammad’s voice came from behind me, stopping me no more than two or three steps on my way. “I have not given you permission to depart.”
Permission! I stood where I was for a minute, facing away from him, finding it impossible to unclench my fists. Prunes don’t need anyone’s permission to do anything!
“I don’t like group orgies,” I finally choked out over my shoulder. “From the tenor of your thoughts, I would have thought you’d be pleased to get rid of me. You know, fifth wheels and all that.”
He seemed disconcerted then suddenly inwardly amused, chuckling.
“Truly, I had forgotten how easily my inner feelings might be read,” he said, and then his big hand was stroking my hair. “Nevertheless, your interpretation is incorrect. I do indeed wish you to remain, for I would have my wenda know something of dancing with which to give me pleasure. As you are to be no more than my belonging, it is your duty to learn that which will please me.”
His mind was under its usual full control, but way back and deep down there was something covered over, something he didn’t want me to see. I might have refused to guess about his motives if I hadn’t known the situation, —but I knew the situation only too well. I turned around to face him, and had no trouble meeting his eyes.
“You don’t want my ownership,” I told him, finding I had accepted the truth of the statement. “You want the ownership of a Prime. Having another woman around means less than nothing to you. You should have led me on a little longer, gotten me good and hooked, and only then lowered the boom. As it is, you’re wasting your time and mine—which, contrary to your own opinions, is considerably more valuable than yours.”
At the very least I expected him to be annoyed, possibly even angry. I watched carefully for either of those reactions or any other, but none of them surfaced. The calm continued in his mind as though he had expected the sort of answer I’d given, no more than a faint weariness back-dropping the way he sighed.
“Men and women speak the same words, yet those words, spoken by a woman, are not the words of a man.” He spoke very gently, almost as though what he’d said was supposed to make sense and be important. I didn’t react to the nonsense, and he shook his head. “Perhaps some day we will find ourselves able to exchange words and make them our own. For now I wish you to remain here, learning what you might, in order to be able to please a man. You have not yet learned how little you know in this respect.”
He touched my hair again then turned and went back to where he’d been sitting, totally unconcerned about my wishes in the matter. I had no desire at all to stay, but there was little point in walking out; if be really wanted me there, he wasn’t above following and dragging me back. Instead of going back to him I sat down where I was, on the fringes of the eager and expectant group of l’lendaa. I wasn’t one of them, had no wish to be one of them, and wanted my choice of position to make that abundantly clear.