Meanwhile, what should Darius do? His research and his thinking had fatigued him more than he realized, but it was too early to go for his night’s sleep. He wanted to maintain a regular sleeping schedule if he could. He wasn’t hungry yet. And he hadn’t figured out a service for Pussy.
“What can you do for me?” he asked her with mock exasperation. “That requires no thought on my part?”
She inhaled.
“What else?” he asked quickly.
“I can give you a relaxing massage.”
He considered that. He liked it. “Agreed.”
“On your bed,” she purred, guiding him to his bedchamber. He let her do it. She was probably very good at this, and his body did feel tight.
Before he knew it, she had pulled off his robe. But of course it wouldn’t be good to crumple the Captain’s uniform. He lay face down on the bed.
She was good at it. She kneaded his shoulders, and the tension melted away from the muscles there. She stroked his back, and it relaxed. She massaged his calves, and they felt like new. She worked on his thighs, and they were invigorated.
Then she started in on his buttocks. He had been sitting for much of the time he had been on the ship, and there was tenseness to be released here too. But as her hands reached around and inside, a new kind of tension developed. Embarrassed, he lay still and did not say anything.
Until she turned him over. “Uh, no,” he said, resisting.
“But I have to do the other side, or my service is not complete,” she explained, sounding hurt.
He was stuck. He turned over, revealing his erection. She had surely seen similar before. He closed his eyes.
“Oh, what a beautiful member!” she exclaimed, delighted.
She did his chest muscles with similar finesse, and his stomach. Then she got on the bed, straddling him, her thighs outside his. He opened his eyes and saw that she was naked; she was evidently able to doff her tight dress in a single fluid motion. She leaned forward, her breasts descending invitingly toward him. She was trying to seduce him.
All he had to do was tell her no. But if he did, what would that indicate about his impending decision to cooperate with Ddwng? And if he refused her offerings, then told Ddwng yes, and Ddwng considered his maladaptation to the customs of this culture, and concluded that he could not be trusted, what then of Colene? Pussy was nice, but she was meaningless; she would be exactly as nice in exactly this way to any man she was required to serve. It was Colene who counted. He could not risk anything to imperil Colene’s welfare.
The safest thing to do was nothing.
Pussy took that as assent. She lay on him full length, sliding up enough to kiss him with her feline mouth. It was a human mouth; it only looked feline. All of her cat features were more suggestive than actual, as if she had had just enough cosmetic surgery to lend the effect.
His resolve to be passive dissolved. His arms closed around her body. His hands stroked the sleekness of the small of her back, and below. Her posterior was as marvelous to touch as to see. Then they were turning over, his eagerness taking charge. She was intended for this use, and—
The wall became a window screen. Colene stood there, as if right beside the bed, staring down. Everything was visible. She blinked.
Darius froze in place. The call! How could he have forgotten the call! Tom had kept at it, finally completed it, and put it right through to Darius, where he happened to be at the moment. In the middle of a sexual act with another woman.
“I guess you’re busy right now,” Colene said, turning away. The screen faded and became the wall.
Pussy looked at him, concerned. “Have I done wrong?”
“No.” She had been true to her nature.
“She was not supposed to see?”
“I was not supposed to be doing it.” An understatement!
“I will tell her what I did!” Pussy said, tears starting down her face as she sat up. “You did not tell me yes! I have done you a disservice, my master!”
What could he say? What was the penalty for a disservice? He feared it was formidable. He was already in critical trouble with Colene, and no apology by a null would make that right. What would be the point in punishing Pussy?
“You were not at fault,” he said. “I let you do what I wanted you to do. I did not know Colene would see, but if I had done it without her seeing, I would have been deceiving her. The fault was mine, either way.”
“You must not take the blame for me!” she protested. “I have done you a disservice, and I must pay. I am so sorry to have done this to you. I wanted only—”
“Enough!” He spoke more forcefully than he had intended, startling her. “You have done me no disservice. I have done myself the disservice. But if you feel you had any share in it, I will require two services of you tomorrow, and thereafter the matter shall be forgotten.”
She had to think about that a moment. “You want my service tomorrow?”
“Yes, of course. Not necessarily of this type, but a service. Or two. Be ready.”
“Oh, yes, my master! I will be ready! But now—”
“Dress me. Now I shall eat.”
She hastened to oblige. They emerged to the main chamber, and she hurried to fetch food.
Provos was there. She had evidently been walking around the ship, knowing her way by memory, and the members of the crew tolerated her as a guest of the Captain. “Something happened?” she inquired.
“So to speak.” He knew what she thought he had done, and she was not far off. He came close to her, needing the illusion of privacy. “Provos, do you remember what the penalty is for a null who does a disservice?”
“Why, of course. The null is destroyed immediately. It is unfortunate, because no null ever does such a thing intentionally, but it seems that some mistakes are not allowed. Why do you ask?”
“I had a concern that one might have made such a mistake.”
“No, not that I remember. The nulls of this ship are very competent.”
“I am glad to know that.” He was indeed! Pussy had been offering her death, to try to spare him embarrassment. He had managed to avoid that as much by luck as intent. His luck had been opposite with Colene. He knew it would be useless to try to call her back.
And all because he had allowed his passion to get out of control. He had indeed done himself a disservice.
THE following day he had to worry about the two services from Pussy, as well as the single ones from Tom and Cat. So he did the obvious: he asked Cat.
“You do not wish to make sexual use of Pussy?” Cat inquired.
“I do and I don’t. She is an attractive and innocent creature. But Colene would not understand.”
“Colene already does not understand.”
“All too true! Still, my feeling for Colene is such that I prefer not to be guilty of what disturbs her, even if it is too late for such restraint. I punish myself by denying myself that which I foolishly desired.” It was, he knew, a pointless gesture, but the hurt he had done Colene was gnawing at him, and this was the only way he could think of to ameliorate it even slightly.
“As you prefer. There is another alternative. On rare occasions, at the master’s discretion, services may be postponed, pending greater service at a later time. You are about to undertake a mission with some risk. You can require Pussy to join you on that mission, as a bodyguard.”
“A bodyguard! Is she good at that?”
“No, violence is against her nature. Tom will be with you, of course; he is adapted for violence. It would be a stressful thing for her, worthy of several services.”