For several moments Zworkyn remained silent, staring at the mayhem that the computer screen was still displaying.
Then he said, “We’ve got to show all this to Abbott. First thing tomorrow morning.”
TRUTH
Raven was growing more nervous with each step as she and Dacco strolled leisurely along the passageway toward her quarters.
Dinner had been pleasant enough. Noel chattered endlessly about himself, especially about the interview he was planning with Tómas.
“Interesting fellow,” he was saying.
Raven nodded absently, thinking about how she could get rid of Dacco at her door.
Smiling contentedly, he pointed. “That’s your place, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” said Raven.
They walked up to the door. Raven turned toward Dacco, her back to the closed door, got up on tiptoes and gave him a peck on the lips.
“Goodnight, Noel.”
“Aren’t you going to invite me in?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“You expect me to go all the way back to Haven II, alone and forlorn?”
“I really can’t ask you in.”
His smile fixed on his face, Dacco said, “You could if you wanted to.”
“Noel… I’m practically engaged to Tómas.”
“Practically.”
A youngish couple ambled past them, smiled hello, and continued on their way.
“Young love,” sighed Dacco, following them with his eyes.
“Goodnight, Noel.”
His smile disappeared. Looking down at her, Dacco said, “No, Raven. That’s not the way this evening is going to end.”
“Noel…”
He reached past her and tapped out her entry code on the door’s control panel. Almost silently, the door slid open.
Tómas Gomez stepped through the shuttle’s hatch and back into the empty reception area of the Haven habitat. Alone, he trudged past the silent ID computers and made his way through the hatch and into the passageway that led to his quarters.
Glancing at his wristwatch, he saw that it was past eleven o’clock. I wonder if Raven’s still awake? he asked himself. Without any real deliberation, he started for her quarters.
Dacco pushed Raven into the living room of her apartment. The front door slid shut behind them.
Raven glared up at him. “Noel, this isn’t going to work. I’m not going to bed with you.”
“Oh, yes you are,” Dacco said, grinning at her. “Just pretend you’re back in Naples, on the job.”
“No!”
He smacked her in the face. Not too hard, just enough to make her understand who was in charge. Hardly left a mark on her cheek.
“Be reasonable, Raven,” he said, calmly, placatingly. “If you don’t come through Waxman will close up your little shop.”
Growing angrier with each breath she took, Raven hissed, “Waxman can go to hell. And you with him!”
Dacco let out a mournful sigh. “Do you want me to get rough with you?”
“I want you to leave!”
“Come on, Raven. I’m not so terrible. And you’re not in a position to turn me down. What will your friend Alicia do when Waxman closes up your boutique?”
“Get out!” Raven screamed.
Dacco’s smile turned sinister. “Some like it cold,” he misquoted, “some like it hot…”
Raven glanced around the living room, looking for a weapon, a tool, an ornament, anything that she might use to defend herself. She backed away from Dacco, her eyes searching.
“Would you like some Rust?” Dacco asked, drawing a slim plastic bag from his pocket. “It’ll make it easier for you.”
“Go away! Leave me alone!”
Instead, Dacco grabbed her and ripped her dress down off her shoulders. Then he swept her struggling form up in his arms and headed for the bedroom. She kicked the empty air so hard that one of her shoes flew off; she struggled to free her arms, pinned to Dacco’s chest, to no avail.
Gomez arrived at Raven’s door and hesitated. She’s probably asleep, he told himself. You don’t want to make a nuisance of yourself.
But his left hand was already tapping out the entry code on Raven’s door pad.
The door slid open with barely a sound. Gomez looked in. The living room was empty, but its lights were on.
She’s not asleep yet, Gomez told himself. He stepped into the living room. The door to the bedroom was open and he heard Raven shout, “Stop it! Get off!”
Tómas dashed to the bedroom door. Raven was on the bed, struggling fruitlessly, Dacco atop her, pinning her down.
Without an instant’s hesitation Tómas raced to the bed and slammed his right fist into Dacco’s kidney. His spine arched and he yowled with pain. Tómas grabbed at him with both hands and pulled him off Raven.
Dacco fell off the bed. The expression on his face was murderous.
“You’re gonna pay for that,” he growled, climbing slowly, painfully to his feet.
Tómas backed away a couple of steps, both fists raised. He saw Raven sit up on the bed, the bodice of her dress torn from her shoulders, her chest heaving, eyes wide as she stared at Tómas.
He quickly returned his eyes to Dacco, who was stepping toward him, his hands raised in a karate posture, bloody fury blazing in his eyes. Dacco was several centimeters taller than Gomez, and bulkier in the shoulders and arms.
Dacco lunged at Tómas, who ducked under his arm and rammed his head into Dacco’s midsection. The breath gushed out of Dacco’s lungs. Tómas kicked at Dacco’s knee and the black man crumpled to the floor.
Raven swung off the bed, the phone console from the night table in both hands, and smashed it onto the back of Dacco’s head. He slumped over, facedown, onto the carpet.
Raven looked up at him. “Tómas,” she breathed.
“Are you all right?”
“Yes.… I think so.”
He saw that the side of her face bore the red imprint of Dacco’s fingers. Looking down at the unconscious form, he muttered, “I should kill the bastard.”
Raven tossed the phone console onto the bed and rushed into Tómas’s arms. “He was going to rape me!”
“I should kill him,” Gomez repeated.
“No!” Raven snapped. “No. Just call the security team. Let them deal with him.”
Without taking his right arm away from Raven, Tómas spoke into his wrist phone. At their feet, Dacco groaned and began to stir.
Raven slipped out of Tómas’s protective grasp and sank wearily onto the bed. He stood beside her, looking down at Dacco’s writhing form.
“You broke my knee,” Dacco moaned.
“I should have broken your damned neck,” said Tómas.
Dacco touched his knee lightly. It looked swollen, beneath his trousers.
“Where did you learn to fight like that?” Raven asked.
Tómas came close to smiling. “You grow up in the slums of Santiago, where I did, you learn to fight. Or you die.”
“I’ll get you for this,” Dacco muttered, rubbing his knee.
“When you can walk again, come and see me,” said Tómas.
A uniformed security team—one lanky, leggy young man and one elfin, dark-haired young woman—appeared at the bedroom doorway. They stared at Dacco, still sitting on the floor.
“What the hell happened here?” the young man asked.
“They attacked me!” Dacco snarled.
Raven, holding her tattered dress up to her shoulders, pointed to Dacco and said, “He tried to rape me.” Gesturing toward Tómas, she went on, “My fiancé saved me.”
The woman called for a medical team. Once they arrived and carted Dacco off to the hospital, together with the security team, Tómas stared in wonder at Raven.