"Orpheus Rising: The Almond Tree" - A.J. Matthews 
Happy lunchtime! We have another excellent story for you to enjoy, donated by A.J. Matthews. Get your fans ready, because like everything we've posted so far, this one is hot, hot, hot!

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Orpheus Rising: The Almond Tree
Chapter 1

"It's the only only way, it's the only trick to playyyy...!"

Jan Hughes sang lustily in the privacy of the cockpit as the aerodyne barreled through the footless halls of air. Orpheus lay far below, the cloud-dappled expanse of the Annular Sea shining sapphire and emerald, each tiny wave peaked by glitter and salt under the equatorial sun. The </i>Amelia Earhart's</i> sensor array fed full imagery direct to her mind. She could feel the rush of wind on her skin, sense the powerful thrust of the turbines at her back, and look at her adopted world through all the colors of the spectrum and beyond. It was a beautiful day, a beautiful world, and a beautiful, responsive craft. 

And she was alone, on an ass-and-trash run, bound for the lair of Professor Sam Bennett, a reclusive scientist no-one had laid eyes upon for over a year. It was still a good excuse to fly. As she checked her course and heading, Jan thought back to the chaotic times that followed the Coming of Nataraja. That hoary old god out of Indian mythos had brought death and destruction to the colony world, and all kinds of people had been coming and going in the two years since. Had Bennett been on Orpheus back then? She'd never met him, for sure. When she'd mentioned the trip to Doc Maguire, the older woman had told her not to expect to meet him. 'That guy's so shy, he won't even use the camera on his phone link,' she'd said.

A soft tone sounded in her mind, and Jan brought her thoughts back to the present.

"Jade Island is hailing," </i>Amelia</i> said. "We're 100 kilometers out and cleared to approach."

"Well, that's good!" Jan's graphics interface automatically brought up an approach vector for Jade Island and she steered onto the heading. The pressure to her butt and shoulders increased as Amelia swung under her touch. "No sense coming all the way out here if the guy doesn't want his bread, beer and cookies, so."

"Do you wish to return control to me?"

Jan smiled at the AI's motherly tone. "Nah, I'm enjoying myself too much. You go back to sleep until we're on final approach."

"I can hardly do that!" the computer chided. 

"Okay, so tell me what the weather's like over there?"

"We have one-tenths cloud-cover at ten thousand feet, wind south-westerly, gusting to ten knots." 

Jan pursed her lips. "That's fast, but not unbearable."

"Doppler radar shows a storm front moving away from the island. The landing conditions may be wet."

"Ah, we'll worry about that when we get there." Jan set the aerodyne on a long easy glide path, staying within the ringed cone of blue light in her virtual vision. At the point of that visual cone lay the island. "Wonder if the good Prof will come meet us at the gate?"

* * * * *

Soon Jade Island lay ahead, a glowing green gem in the expanse of ocean. Jan could see it was one of a small archipelago, perhaps ten to a dozen islands mostly of the same size. A scale bar showed Jade to be five kilometers across, and roughly circular, with a truncated volcanic peak toward the northern side.

"Professor Bennett's place should be on the south slope of that peak," she told Amelia. "Can you get a visual?"

"Affirmative." Part of the virtual display changed, zooming in on a cluster of white blocks, which became the frontage of a graceful hacienda-style building.

"He's not doing badly, if he's built a place like that," Jan said, trying to keep the envy from her voice.

"I believe he had a number of robots to help him," </i>Amelia</i> remarked. Jan detected just a hint of superiority in the aerodyne's tone and grinned. </i>Amelia</i> subscribed very firmly to the ideals of the poem </i>High Flight</i>. To her a robot was a menial thing, fit only for crawling on the ground, and was to be pitied.

Making adjustments all the time, she guided the aerodyne down the glide path and onto final approach. The beacon had lined her up on a broad swathe of grass to one side of the hacienda complex. She could see a steep revetment to the north of the grass holding back a boulder field of white rocks beyond, and a gravel path leading to the house itself. A pair of small, dumpy cargo 'bots sat waiting for their arrival.

"There's no sign of life," she said, swinging the tilt-fans around to horizontal mode. The airspeed bled off rapidly and the aerodyne began to sink toward the ground.

"Given the gentleman's reclusive nature, did you expect him to be waiting for us?"

"Not really." A vibration ran through the fuselage, followed by a reassuring solid </i>thunk</i> as the undercarriage locked.

The air pressure increased under the vehicle as the downwash of air from the fans rebounded from the ground and struck the underside, flinging droplets of water in shimmering rainbows across the lawn. Jan decreased the turbines speed gently, letting the craft fall as softly as a feather, until the wheels touched the rain-soaked grass. The undercarriage creaked as the weight of the aerodyne came onto them, and she shut down the engines. The silence was deafening after hours of their muted roar.

Jan pulled off her helmet and popped the hatch. "Okay, let's go," she said.

The air-stair unfolded, and she clumped down it in her heavy flying boots, helmet dangling from its strap. With a whine of electric motors and squeak of treads the two robots moved forward, heading for the cargo hatch which </i>Amelia</i> obligingly opened for them. Jan stepped off to one side, and pressed her hands into the small of her back, and leaned backwards to work out the cramp induced by the flight.

A rumble sounded, seemingly coming through both air and ground. Puzzled, she looked down and around. As she glanced over at the revetment it seemed to shiver – and then dissolved into a mass of mud. Boulders shook loose from the jumbled scree slope beyond and began to bounce down the slope like boisterous puppies let loose. 

"Shit!" 

Acting on instinct she dug her toes into the soft grass and ran for the cover of the hacienda, several meters away. Boulders the size of a bowling ball began to bounce past her, then larger, and larger rocks that rolled with frightening force over everything in their path. Earth and water and mud and debris swept along in a long, low wave, covering the grass with a tide of glutinous brown goop. Behind her she heard the thump as </i>Amelia</i> slammed the hatch shut. Something clanged with the sound of a cracked bell. Safety lay meters away - but a terrific impact slammed into her legs. 

Screaming, she fell to earth, her legs a mass of pain. A rock struck her shoulder, temporarily overwhelming the pain from her legs. The helmet was torn from her grasp and she was rolled several times before the energy of the landslide grew too weak to push her any more. Coming to rest on her back, she could feel the warm air and sun on her skin. Spitting and wiping her eyes, she sat up and swore long and hard as waves of pain rushed through her legs. 

One last rock rebounded off the debris and hit her in the head. The world spun away.

* * * * *

"Dear gods!"

Sam Bennett watched the whole scenario unfold with horror forming a tight knot in his gut. 

His AI responded. "The robots have been damaged, Professor, but one is still mobile. I'll send it to help the woman."

"No!" He rose from his couch, shook loose the medical patches and reached for his robe. "No, Tyree, I'll go out to her. She needs a human touch."

"Are you sure, Professor?"

"I just said so, didn't I? Ready the med bay again, she'll need it."

It took him a couple of minutes to reach the outside door, and he stepped out into the bright equatorial sunlight. For a moment he felt giddy, and he leaned against the door, despising his weakness. "How long is it since I've been out here?" he demanded.

"Five months, Professor."

"That long?" He looked around, shading his dazzled eyes, savoring the striking azure of the sea, the feel of the cool breeze on his bare chest.

"It takes time to recover from such an injury, Sam," the AI said softly. "You're not quite well yet."

He looked at the spill of dark earth stretching across the former lawn, the prone figure of the pilot. "I'm well enough," he said, pushing away from the door and walking on legs that felt less than steady toward the woman.

Her aerodyne had taken the brunt of the wave. It looked a sorry sight, resting up to its undercarriage doors in a mass of churned earth and mud. One huge boulder had smashed the port-forward turbofan. The rear fan had a boulder sitting in it like an egg in a cup. Strands of vegetation had lifted clear enough from the mass to drop into the turbine housings. The two cargo robots had been pushed several meters in spite of their caterpillar treads. One had been toppled over and was making spluttering noises; the other seemed to be groggy, the sensor dome on top moving from side to side in little spasms. An uprooted flower wobbled cheerfully from one bent antenna.

"Professor, the aerodyne reports major damage, and enquires after its pilot's health."

"Nice to see it has a sense of priorities!" he said, stepping gingerly onto the area of the landslide. "Did it give her name?"

"Jan Hughes."

Mud squelched under his bare feet, oozing between his toes in an oddly sensuous way as he made his way over to her. He knelt and clasped her wrist to feel for a pulse. It was firm and strong and he patted her cheek gently. "Jan?"

There was no response to touch or word. Checking her mouth was clear he used his hand to wipe away the filth that coated her face. Her skin felt smooth to the touch, marred only by a swelling bump the size of an egg on one temple. Sculpted cheekbones lay beneath a fine, lightly-tanned skin sprinkled with freckles, giving her a boyish look. Short, mahogany brown hair with pale gold highlights spilled out from her pilot's snoopy hat. His fingers slowed of their own accord, and he was startled to realize he was caressing her.

"Is she okay?" 

"She's beautiful!"

"Professor, with respect, that's irrelevant just now. Her health is of main concern to us."

"Gods, you're so damn prosaic!" He glanced back at the house. "It looks like her legs are broken and she took a knock to the head. I'm bringing her in."

"The med bay is ready, Professor."

For a moment he hesitated, fearing to cause more harm to her injuries. A low rumble from the scree slope as a few more rocks rolled and settled nearby made up his mind. Scooping her up into his arms, he lifted the woman clear of the mud. It was painful, using his muscles properly after so long – but it sure felt good too.

At that moment the woman gave a little snort and her eyelids fluttered. "Can you hear me?" he asked anxiously.

She made a sound something like urk, half-opened her eyes, blinked at him - then went limp again.

Sliding back into unconsciousness, Jan carried with her the image of a blank white mask with two rich golden eyes. 

* * * * *

Sam lay Jan on the bed in the medical bay and stepped back. The tentacles unfolded from the auto-med unit and probed toward her comatose form. It was a sight he'd seen from the point of view of patient and doctor over the course of years. Use did not make custom; he still felt the chill run up his spine at the impersonal way the robotic surgeon worked. The air filled with the smell of antiseptic as the unit went to work.

Acting with delicate skill the unit clipped away the legs of the pilot's flight-suit whilst another set of small manipulator appendages bathed the dark bruising on her temple. Images flickered into being on the wall mounted display as various scanners took readings of her entire body and relayed them to him.

"There is mild concussion, Professor, but no sub-cranial bleeding." Tyree adopted a dry, sexless, impersonal tone when reporting. "She has a compound fracture of the left tibia; hairline fracture of the right tibia; moderate abrasion of the skin at seven points along her left hand side." 

"Can you treat her?"

"Affirmative, although the compound fracture will require time to heal."

He traced a fingertip along the line of her jaw. "I think we can provide that," he said softly.

* * * * *

Jan woke to the sound of birdsong close by. A gentle breeze blew across her face, and she could feel a coverlet of some kind tucked around her. Opening her eyes, she stared up with blurred vision at the ceiling. It was a soft, indeterminate shade of yellow, lit from somewhere to her right. Turning her head toward it brought on a shocking amount of dizziness and nausea welled up in her throat. Panicking at the thought of choking she made to sit up, but a shaft of pain impaled her left leg and she screamed.

Something touched the side of her neck and hissed. Instantly the nausea and pain went away, leaving behind a blessed cool numbness. Shocked and panting, she fought to get a grip on her thoughts. Gradually, her heartbeat took on a normal pace. Lying quite still, she moved her eyes only, trying to see what she could of the room.

The ceiling was a pale lemon yellow, lit by tall French windows over which lacy curtains flowed in the breeze from the open doors. Something about the quality of light told her it was early morning, and she wondered just how long she'd been unconscious. She was lying in a bedroom; that much she could see. Cool creamy-white walls on three sides; a door beyond her duvet-covered form, with a glimpse of another room with dark furniture. Her own room seemed sparse by comparison, with a dresser, a set of sliding doors showing a walk-in closet full of clothing. Above and to her left stood a medical unit, gently pulsing lights showing on the display panel. A tentacle was placing its tip in a sterilizer pod and she knew it had administered the drug to her.

"How are you feeling?"

For a moment she thought the unit had spoken, but the voice had a deep, modulated quality which even the best AI's could seldom achieve. A footstep sounded from the doorway and she looked down – and jumped with surprise.

A tall figure stood there, one hand casually on the door jambs to either side, leaning forward to peer in at her with his head cocked enquiringly to one side. It was a man; a broad dark chest with a mat of black hair showed through his open frilled shirt, which was unbuttoned to his navel. Dark satiny pants of a tight cut clothed his lower half, but all her attention was fixed on his head.

He wore a mask; an expressionless kabuki mask. As she focused on the extraordinary apparition she saw it was white and shiny, of porcelain perhaps, although it seemed of no weight; it sat easily on his face. Two eyes of gold looked out through the mask at her, and as he turned his head, she saw he was shaved smooth. There was an air of feral attraction about his posture that made her feel tingly all over.

"Oh my!" she said softly.

"Pardon?" A lazy smile parted his lips, showing perfect white teeth.

"I'm good – I think!" 

Taking great care she began to sit up, and the man all but sprang across the room to her side. Jan flinched as he reached down, not knowing what to expect, but his touch was tender as he helped her up. A sweet scent pervaded the air as he adjusted her pillow and the duvet, and she realized it came from the sprig of almond blossom he wore pinned to his shirt. The purity of the blossom even outshone the smooth Irish linen of his shirt, and suddenly she felt her throat grow tight.

"Are you sure you're okay, Jan?" he asked, standing back. Closer-to, she saw his eyes were normal, just that strange gold color, the glow accentuated by the shadowy eyeholes of the mask.

"I'm fine. The unit gave me a shot. You know my name. Who are you?"

"I'm Sam Bennett." His lips moved behind the mask and she sensed his smile. "I think I owe you an apology. When the last storm blew through here, I should have checked the revetment to make sure it hadn't weakened. The boulder field above the lawn put a lot of weight on it."

"Hey, at least I'm alive. What about Amelia?"

"That's your aerodyne?" He scratched his chin and looked rueful. "Sorry, but she took a battering from the rock fall. One of her turbine housing's smashed, the other damaged."

"Aw, shit!" She closed her eyes and lay back against the pillows.

"I've put a couple of my work-bots to the task. They'll get her fixed and airworthy again within two weeks."

"Two weeks? </i>Argh!</i>" In spite of the drug she winced as she sat upright. "Shit! Amelia's nearly new and I go and break her! And they need me back at Home! There aren't enough qualified pilots around to do all the work as it is."

"Jan, you're in no fit state to fly for at least a month." He gestured to her legs. "You broke your thigh, you've a hairline crack in the other, you've got mild concussion, not to mention all the bruising up your left side." He laid his hand on her shoulder and pressed her gently but insistently back against the pillows. "Just relax, and let me take care of everything. I sent a message to Home. Doc Maguire knows you're out of action for a while. She said she'll divert a research ship if you really need to get back; the </i>North Star's</i> a couple of day's sail from here. I've got no aircraft of my own or I'd gladly take you."

"I can't ask Doc to divert a ship. In the scheme of things around here my broken leg doesn't amount to a hill of beans."

Sam's chuckle was as rich and warm as his eyes. "Some hill! Some beans!"

She reached over and clasped his hand. "You're the friendliest recluse I've ever heard of."

"Thanks – I think."

"Why are you wearing that mask?"

He released her hand and raised his own to touch the mask. "I have my reasons, Jan," he said softly and she could see the pain in his eyes. Then he turned away and headed for the door with a firm step. "I'll have a 'bot bring you some food and drink. Anything else you need, just ask Tyree. He's my house AI."

"Wait!" she called, and stretched out her hand - but he was gone.

Left alone, she settled back into the pillows and wondered at his strangeness. A sunbeam settled across her face as the sun rose higher, and she looked over to the French doors. Beyond she could see what appeared to be a courtyard, surrounded by a colonnade of butternut-colored stone columns. In the center stood an almond tree, its branches full of budding blossom. The scent of the sprig Sam Bennett wore lingered in the air. Jan lay quietly and watched the growing day, and felt strangely bereft.

Chapter 2

"What am I doing?" Sam said aloud as he leaned on the wall and stared out the window at the almond tree. The ghostly blank reflection of the mask stared back from the glass. Everything was tinted with pastel colors of the rainbow, as the conane was metabolized by his body. 

"Is that a rhetorical question, Professor?" the house AI asked.

"Yes, yes, Tyree." He waved his hand impatiently. "I ask them from time to time, as you may have noticed. Some of the students I've had must think I ask rhetorical questions all the time, judging from their lack of response."

"You are disturbed by the presence of Ms. Hughes?"

"Who wouldn't be?" He turned away from the window and walked slowly to the kitchen. "You know how long I've been here, alone – saving your company, of course."

"That is understood."

"I'm finding it hard to adjust to Jan being here." He measured coffee beans into the antique hand grinder, and began to crank the worn brass handle. 

"You did well when it came to rescuing Ms. Hughes. You didn't have to go. The robots are perfectly capable of handling an injured human without causing further harm."

"I know." The rich aroma of the freshly ground beans filled the air and soothed his ruffled nerves. "Tyree, in spite of the conane, it took all of my control to be with her in the bedroom." He touched the mask, running his fingertips along the smooth ceramic. "I thought I was doing fine until she asked about this."

"It is rather noticeable. Did it not occur to you she would ask about it?"

"Of course it did!" He drew the box from the base of the grinder and shook the grains into the percolator, noticing the tremor in his hand. With an effort he forced it to remain steady. "I'm…just not ready."

Images from the Yentarai War flickered like an ancient celluloid movie, rendered black and white and sepia by the lingering effects of the drug. Once again he saw the attack, the desperate fighting in the narrow passageways of the alien base; that strange energy discharge from the weird device they'd found in the laboratory. The pain. Gods! The pain! Wetness gathered behind the mask as his tears flowed.

A servitor robot rolled silently into the kitchen, and he came back to the present with a jolt. Gesturing to the coffee percolator, he instructed the robot to take coffee and food to the patient, and to return and fix a meal for him. The machine prepared food and took the coffee. He watched it depart about its errand with a feeling of dejection.

Fingering the mask, he thought about his life. "What kind of man am I? I only dare to show my face to machines and AI's. If Jan were to see me as I am, she'd run a mile."

"Her injuries would preclude that kind of exercise, Professor."

"Dear gods! You are such a literalist, Tyree!" He sighed and shook his head. "Ms. Hughes is immobile for at least three weeks, Professor. Would she not prove a good companion to you?"

"I can only so much pop conane, Tyree."

"Then it seems she would need recourse to other forms of entertainment to ensure her mental health remains strong. I notice from her medical scan she is fitted with neural ware. Perhaps she would welcome access to our virtual reality facilities."

"By all means, ask her." He glanced at the wall clock. "I'll try and keep her company, but for now I have work to do."

* * * * *

"How can he be a full professor and still be such a recluse?" Jan wondered.

The holographic image hung in the air over her bed, the link established between the hacienda and Doc Maguire's apartment far way at Home.

Doc gave a throaty chuckle. "I know what you mean. It's not uncommon, Jan. From what I know of Bennett, since he was wounded in the last war he does most of his teaching now via the link. He has a virtual faculty all over human space. Maybe he planned it that way; maybe he just fell into a pattern. Do that kind of thing for long enough, it can impose a sense of isolation. Soon it can even seem it was through choice, not necessity. It gets a habit, and a hard one to break."

"Even an intelligent guy like him?"

"Perhaps especially so. Intelligence is no help when you're talking about that person's virtual addiction to privacy." Doc's smile widened and she leaned closer to the camera. "Do I detect a hint of attraction there? Is our crack pilot feeling hot for the shy genius?"

Jan laughed and waved a hand. "Oh, puh-lease! I've only just met the guy." She brushed a strand of hair back over her ear. "But I admit he's cute, and he helped me out when I got crocked. He's so sensitive. You should have seen him making sure I was cared for. I think he's handsome too, behind that mask."

Doc blinked. "What mask? Are you speaking figuratively?"

"No, Doc. Sam Bennett wears a mask, kind of like one of those theatrical masks."

"I didn't know that." Doc looked intrigued. "Interesting."

Jan glanced at the door to her room. It was half-open and she saw the passage beyond was empty. "I though you met him when he came here to Orpheus?"

"No. He got permission from the Council to settle here and dropped straight to Jade Island on a private shuttle. None of us met him."

"When was this?"

"A few months after…the incident."

Doc looked flushed and Jan knew she was referring in a roundabout way to the coming of the god. "Okay, Doc. I prefer to forget, too. I still wake up in a cold sweat some nights."

Doc looked set to answer, but the rising wail of Mina O'Neill rose from off-screen. "Auntie Trina-a-a!"

Jan knew the little girl was all of two years old and missing her mom and dad, who were light years away on a private mission. Doc gave Jan a look of fondness mixed with harassment and went to see to her. 

Doc's partner, Paula, slid into the vacated chair and winked. "Kat's getting broody," she said. "I think it's only a matter of time before we pay a visit to the clinic."

Jan smiled. "You'll make good mothers." 

Paula rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right! Did I hear you say Prof Bennett wears a mask?" Jan nodded. "Okay." Paula tapped a finger to her lips and looked thoughtful. "Call me nosy as hell, but I'm intrigued. I think I'll do some digging around, see what really happened to him back then."

"It doesn't bother me, Paula. Whatever he looks like, he's a nice guy."

"Maybe." Paula glanced to one side. "I got to go. You take care of yourself, kid, and remember – you can't chase guys with your leg broken!"

"I'll just set out some bait and wait for him to come to me!"

Tyree observed the interchange between the three humans with interest. The communication channel was routed through him, and into the still-basic communications grid of the colony world via a dedicated program. Although programmed to adhere to the strictest privacy regarding content, the stricture did not apply to discussing his thoughts with other AI's. He opened an internal channel to the </i>Amelia Earhart</i>, where it sat in a hangar undergoing repairs. When the aerodyne answered, Tyree said "I need to consult you about your pilot…"

* * * * *

Jan spoke to other friends over the course of the day, interspersed with watching Tri-D shows from the house collection. A classic movie called </i>Top Gun</i> had her shaking her head in silent amazement at the crude aircraft flown back then, even as she felt the magnetism of the hero with his gorgeous eyes and crooked smile.

As the final credits rolled, she lay back against the pillows with a sigh. Movement caught her eye beyond the window, and she saw night had fallen. Moonlight flickered in the branches of the almond tree. This far south, the climate of Orpheus was mild, more like the temperate zone of Earth where her native Ireland was located. The memory of that ancient land had her humming </i>Danny Boy</i> until she noticed what she was doing and stopped, a lump of homesickness in her throat.

"Tyree?" she called out.

"Yes, Ms. Hughes?" The voice was calm, cultured.

"Call me Jan, everyone else does."

"Okay, Jan, what may I do for you?"

"Is Professor Bennett around?"

"He has finished his work for the day. Have you a message for him? I can relay it."

"No, don't disturb him if he's busy." The orange light was fading from the courtyard, the budding silvery-white flowers on the tree bright against the black bark of the branches. "Can I have something to eat, please?"

"Certainly."

She relayed her requested menu. Tyree sent it on to the kitchen and the servitor 'bot, then turned his attention to the young woman lying in the bed. She wore the expression he associated with boredom. 

"I have a suggestion, Jan," he said carefully.

She looked up. "What, Tyree?"

"I noticed you have neural-ware installed. Professor Bennett has a number of interactive virtual reality programs stored in me which will interface with your 'ware. They're very entertaining."

She sat up in the bed, wincing as the motion pulled at her leg and sent a stab of pain through her. The medical unit sensed it and extended a tentacle which touched her neck. The pain went away and she turned her attention back to the AI.

"Entertainment VR's? I've always wanted to try those, but my neural-ware's too out-dated to handle them."

"The medical unit can install an upgrade if you wish. It'll take just seconds, and then you'll have access to totally interactive, all-sense virtual reality."

"Cool! Do it!"

The medical unit activated again, a different set of manipulator tentacles extending toward her. "What do I need to do?" she asked, looking at them with a twinge of fear.

"Nothing; just hold still. It will do the rest."

A tentacle touched the back of her neck, tickling for a brief instant until a soft hiss sounded, wetness speckled her skin, and the whole area went numb. She kept as still as she could, feeling the tentacles moving over her skin but beyond that, no pain or discomfort. Then the tentacles retracted, the numbness faded, and she could feel a small spot of soreness at the base of her neck.

"Is that it?"

"Yes. Lie back, close your eyes, and activate your neural ware."

She did as instructed. Tyree zoomed in for a close-up of her face and watched for her reaction. It soon came. Jan's lips parted and her eyes flickered open. 

"Oh my!" she said.

A menu had opened like a flower in her mind's eye. She stood in a formless gray void, facing the golden words as they glowed and shimmered in the air.
</i>Select genre. Romantica. Adventure. World of Literature. History. Sci-fi. War. Alien.</i>

She looked at the words and thought about the options. Sam Bennett was very much on her mind when she reached out and touched </i>Romantica</i>.

Instantly the grayness brightened and took form. A wide ocean spread out on her right hand, the limitless waters stretching away and away to a dark blue horizon. Firm sand took shape beneath her bare feet and she flexed her toes, digging them into it, feeling the crunch and yield of the compact mass. It felt so real, almost to the point of her being able to feel the individual grains. An offshore breeze scented with salt and seaweed tugged at her short hair. A gentle swell rolled toward the golden sand, lit by an early-morning sun, to break in small wavelets on the shore. She looked around, at the rolling dunes, the scope of the bay, and knew wherever she was, it wasn't on Orpheus.

And Sam Bennett was there, striding out of the sea toward her. The expressionless white mask was gone. She watched him come, drinking in the sight of his handsome, chiseled features, the smooth dome of his head, the dark shading of his jaw. In this virtual reality he had a Roman nose, and the golden eyes glowed like rising suns. His wet clothing clung to him revealingly, the linen shirt showing his nipples and the dark diamond of hair on his chest. The tight pants looked tighter than when she'd first seen him. The bulge of his cock showed in sharp relief.

Moisture blossomed inside her pussy and she felt it growing as warm and inviting as an Irish welcome. Looking down at herself she found she wore a sarong of patterned red silk, the pattern taking the form of gold dragons that chased each other with every slight movement she made. 

He stopped just a pace away from her, his chest rising and falling evenly, a smile tugging at his lips. The gold irises of his eyes seemed to glow brighter close to. A subtle scent of almond blossom filled the soft offshore breeze. She found she was breathing quicker, her heart beating faster, pounding her ribs with every beat.

"Hi, Jan!" His cultured voice was as warm and soft as honey, and made her feel self-conscious and gauche. 

"Hi, Prof!" She fought the urge to giggle and swept a strand of hair back over her ear. 

"I was hoping you'd be here." His smile widened to show his perfect white smile. "You've had such an effect on me!" He reached out his hand, stroked the backs of his fingers along the curve of her cheek. "I may be a recluse, Jan, but it doesn't stop me from being human."

"It doesn't? Ah, I mean it doesn't!" As he lowered his hand she took and held it, and looked up into his strange gold eyes. "You're such a nice guy. Why have you hidden away all this time?"

A look of sadness infused his face and he sighed and looked down at their joined hands. "It was because of the war. War changes people, you know." He met her gaze and raised his hand to his face. "I was wounded; did you know?"

"Yeah, I heard. Was it really that bad?" She felt an anxiety grow inside her breast, a need to reach out to him on all levels, to soothe, to heal.

"It was bad. I was a science advisor to the Navy. Toward the end of the war I was part of a team that raided a Yentarai base. We reached a laboratory where they were working on some special weapons. One of them was booby-trapped." He gestured to his face, a smile of mingled pain and sour humor on his lips. "It didn't do my looks any good."

She cupped his face in her hands, and searched the smooth skin, felt the slight roughness of the stubble of his jaw. "You look damn fine to me now, so!" she whispered, dropping her hands to his chest and feeling the warmth of him, the slow rise and fall of his breath, the steady thump of his heart beneath her palm. Damn, but the VR sensory feedback was good! "Couldn't the medics do anything for you? It should have been possible to rebuild your face in this day and age."

"Should have been, but it wasn't. There was something in the weapon's composition, some extra nastiness that made it impossible for the doctors to do anything. I was left with the choice of living amongst my fellow humans looking hideously scarred and in near-permanent pain, or of moving away to some isolated world where I could research my own cure."

"I can't believe people can be so petty as to judge you on looks alone!"

"Can't you?" His tone and glance were mildly sardonic, and he pressed his hands over hers, holding them closer to his chest.

She felt her face grow hot. "Well, yeah, okay, I can believe it of most people – but not me! I liked you the moment I saw you, in spite of the mask." 

He raised one of her hands to his lips and kissed it. "Thank you for that," he said softly.

She stepped close to him, until her breasts brushed his chest. "Did you find a cure?"

"Yeah, I did." His smile flashed. "You came at the right time, Jan. In a few short days I'll have my face back, and you'll be the first to see me without a mask for ten years!"

"In the meantime I get to have a preview of what it feels like to kiss you," she said, clasping his head in her hands and pulling it toward her lips.

They kissed, soft lips meeting and parting to allow tongues to slip inside and over teeth and tongue and cheek. His breath was hot on her skin, his body firm against hers, and Jan felt her nipples swelling and hardening, and the first rise of heat in her throat and face. The moistness in her pussy grew so rapidly with anticipation she felt her thighs grow wet.

Then his hands were coming up to her shoulders, and she drew back just a little to allow him to slip the sarong from her shoulders, and down over her breasts, their protrusion making the material bunch until Sam had to tug it hard, a brief snort of laughter coming from his nose as he kissed her.

She clamped her knees either side of his, and, holding him tightly, let her weight fall backwards. Sam supported her all the way down to the soft sand, and she lay there, her breasts exposed to his ardent gaze, as she fumbled with the sash about her waist.

"Please! Allow me," he said softly.

She grabbed a handful of sand in either fist and tilted her head back, watching and feeling his strong fingers untie the sash, flick it away – and slowly, teasingly, opening her sarong.

His face was a picture of delight and ardor, his skin flushing a deep brown as he gazed at her nakedness. She parted her thighs in open invitation, feeling her juices flowing from her pussy, down her perineum to her anus and onto the sand.

"Wow!" He reached out and traced the line of her tattoo. "There's no way I'd have expected this!"

With a feeling of complacency she looked down at it. The bioluminescent tattoo resembled a living flame, curling up from her clitoris to lick over her belly and under and around her breasts. It pulsed in colors of livid orange, red and yellow in time to her heartbeat, the colors growing stronger and brighter as her passion mounted.

"It cost a small fortune, but never mind that! I want you inside me!" she said, her voice husky.

Sam stripped off his shirt in two quick movements, flinging it away, fluttering in the warming breeze. He unzipped his pants and eased them down, like a strong, handsome serpent emerging from a shed skin. She saw his thick, circumcised cock for the first time, as it sprang up from its confines to point at her, a long, meaty spear rising from a thicket of black curly hair. Pre-cum glistened in the eye, a tiny droplet of pearl-gray.

A cry sprang unbidden from her lips as she grabbed his cock, feeling the hardness, almost pulling it toward her waiting pussy. Her other hand was about his neck, drawing him down onto her, his weight settling, so hot and strong and pliant. Hot breath gusted on her cheek as she felt the tip of his tongue chase along it, tasting her, kissing her, nibbling her ear lobes and lips. In the confines between their bodies, she moved his cock until she felt the head touch her sopping wet pussy lips – and with a single powerful thrust of his body he was inside.

Her thighs clamped about his hips and she thrust her groin hard against him in pure animal reflex as that wonderful thick shaft shot deep inside her. The hardness, the size of it filled her, making her pussy muscles spasm in delight as she accommodated him. Her breasts hurt as they pressed against him, her nipples burying themselves deep into his chest.

His hands were upon them now, clasping, clutching her, squeezing each breast upwards between strong fingers until he pinched her teats.

"Oooo-oo-ooh!" she gasped, and raked his back with her nails.

His lips pressed against hers, his tongue finding entrance to twine with hers, as he began to thrust and withdraw, thrust and withdraw. She dug her fingers into his firm butt and held on, surrendering herself to him, feeling his cock pressing up inside her, their bodies forming a gestalt that soared in their shared lust until the spasms in her pussy grew stronger, and stronger, her breath faster, keening in her throat, her eyes shut against the blue vault of the sky, feeling him gather her thighs under his arms until he was leaning into her.

Holding him tightly she rolled, forcing him to roll with her onto his back, and she settled into the saddle, riding him hard. Sam clasped her breasts as they swung, and squeezed them, leaning up to grab a nipple with his mouth, drawing it in and sucking, hard. She rose and dropped, twisting, grinding her pussy into his loins with a savagery that felt so damn good. She could feel his cock moving inside her, sending thrilling pulses of energy throughout her body that grew all the more intense as he clasped her by the waist and thrust up against her, meeting her, matching her rhythm.

She came, a white heat exploding out from her pussy, surging through her body until it seemed to flare like a nova around them. All conscious thought went, her mind nothing more than a white furnace. Somewhere on a remote physical plane she felt Sam gasping and bucking against her, and the sudden impact of his cum inside her pussy.

Some time later, her wits had recovered enough for her to find she'd fallen to one side and was cuddling against his hot, sweaty body. Her breath had slowed enough for her to speak, and she grinned at his smiling, satiated expression. Slipping a hand down to fondle his flaccid cock, she stroked a circular pattern over his smooth scalp.

"That was the best fuck I've had for bloody ages!" she told him sincerely, and nibbled his ear lobe. "Damn, but you're good!"

"You're not so bad yourself, Jan!" He stroked her cheek. "I can't believe you're nothing more than an AI construct."

Chapter 3

"Tyree!" Jan yelled loud enough to raise an echo. The lights brightened to normal illumination at the sound of her voice.

"Yes, Jan?" 

The AI's voice was calm and even, which infuriated her more. She struggled to sit up in the bed, her leg giving out alarming stabs of pain which she ignored in her temper. "What the hell did you think you were doing, linking me up to the Professor? I asked for a VR scenario, not an interactive!"

"Did you not enjoy it?"

"That's beside the fuckin' point!" she snapped, aware of the lingering wetness between her legs. Even as she fulminated against the AI's interference she wondered at the physical response to the scenario. Virtual Reality trips were supposed to unhitch the body's reaction to the mental stimuli to prevent anyone coming to harm. "Do you know how much embarrassment you've just caused us?"

"I considered that a likely response, but as you seem to be so attracted to each other, I thought it would be more interesting for you to link up."

"You should have told us!"

"That would have defeated the object. You wouldn't have been relaxed enough to enjoy it. And I can see from your medical scan that you did enjoy it."

The last sentence had a smug air about it. "Keep that to yourself! How do you think I can face the Professor after what we did?"

As if on cue Sam Bennett appeared in the doorway, wearing a pale blue silk robe. It looked crumpled and was cinched loosely about his waist, showing hastiness in dressing that matched her hurried feelings.

"Jan! I…"

"Don't come in!" She turned her head away and waved at him violently. "I'm so fucking embarrassed!"

"I'm sorry!" He stepped into the room, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. "Tyree overstepped the mark. I do apologize for it, and I want to make amends to you."

"I just want to get out of here as fast as I can," she said through gritted teeth. 

Her broken leg reacted to an involuntary movement with another stab of pain. A tentacle extended toward her from the ever-watchful medical unit and she batted at it ineffectually. The tip touched her neck and the pain diminished abruptly. "Shit!"

Sam patted his hands in the air in a placating gesture. "I can see you're upset."

"Upset hardly covers what I feel, Professor!" she said in the most acidic tone she could manage. "I feel so fucking violated!"

"It was hardly a violation, Jan," Tyree said. "You participated in the scenario quite willingly."

"Yes, but you presented it under false pretenses!" She drew a deep breath, fought to get her emotions under control. "I think I'd better leave."

"I'm sorry you feel like that, Jan," Bennett said. His voice was low, contrite, nothing like his usual steady timbre. He gestured to her leg. "There's no way of lifting you from the island by air. If you wish, I'll contact the </i>North Star</i> tomorrow morning, and ask them to come collect you."

"Thanks, but what about Amelia? Can the ship take her aboard?"

"We haven't got docking facilities here," he said. "There's no way of getting the aerodyne down to the shore, and I'm sure the sea is too shallow for the ship to come close enough inshore. They'll have to send a boat to the jetty for you anyway."

"How's Amelia now?"

"The repairs are well under way. The mechanic 'bots estimate she'll be ready to fly by next weekend. If you're not willing to stay, then perhaps a relief pilot can come down to collect her when she's ready."

"I don't trust anyone else to handle her," she said. "I prefer to fly her myself."

He looked to one side, his hands resting on the jambs. The light shone off the curious white mask. Not for the first time she regretted not being able to see his face. Sam Bennett had looked so handsome in the Virtual flesh.

"There is one option I can offer if you want to leave earlier," he said eventually, his voice low and steady.

"What is it?" she asked, not unwilling to give him a chance to make amends.

He gestured to the mask. "You remember how I told you I'd suffered wounds to my face."

She nodded, thinking of when and where he'd told her so, and felt her face grow hot.

"Something in the alien weapon defeats ordinary medical measures. Whatever methods were used, the weapon detected and bypassed them. My wound needed something more advanced." He gave her a look of caution. "Have you heard of nanocytes?"

"Yeah, my friend has them."

She was pleased to see the look of surprise cross his face. "Really? You know Cassie O'Neill?"

"I know everybody on this planet," she said simply. "I'm also one of her daughter's godmothers."

"Okay then. This mask houses a nanocyte medical array. I designed and built it myself. It's reconstructing my features, slowly, undoing the damage the aliens caused and are still causing."

He paused and she had the impression he felt embarrassed. "Of course they're illegal outside certain specialist areas. Your planetary Council and I came to a tacit agreement about my using them when I moved here. They're not prejudiced against them, in view of what happened here two years ago."

"I can understand that. They helped Cassie beat that mad eejit of a god, so they can't be all bad."

"Good, I'm glad you understand. The mask should finish its work soon, and I'll be able to face people again."

"I'm pleased for you," she said softly. "Honestly."

"Thanks." He pointed to the medical unit. "That uses directed ultrasound beams and manipulators to repair your injuries. It'll take some weeks for a major bone fracture. If you're willing, I can use a nanocyte package to speed the process."

"How long will it take?" She tried not to sound too eager.

"If we start now, you'll be fine tomorrow morning."

"Wow!" She blinked. "So short a time?"

"No more than that."

"What about afterwards?" she asked, suspiciously. "Will they still be inside me?"

"No, it's a one-shot package. Once they've finished their task, they'll self-destruct." 

She thought it over, and nodded. "Okay, do it."

He left the room for a few minutes, returning with a turquoise colored gel-pack that fitted snugly in the palm of his hand.

"These will do the trick. For the quickest result this should be applied directly to your injury." He looked down at the pack, then up at her, his face flushed. "If you feel uncomfortable about the idea of me touching you, I can program the med unit to do the job."

Jan thought of the way his hands felt on her body, the way his touch had electrified her like no other man had done. For a moment she wavered, but a sense of fairness won.

"You can set it up, Professor." She managed to find a smile. "I'm blaming Tyree for what happened between us, not you."

He looked her in the eye and his blush grew deeper. "It's been a long, long time since I slept with anyone."

"I kind of gathered as much," she said quietly. "You're so nervous around me."

"Yes, I'm nervous." He walked over to her bedside and unpeeled a silver strip from the gel pack. "All the time I've been here, I've never met anyone from Orpheus face to face."

"I hear you never met the Council."

"No; that meeting was done via com-link. My self-esteem was much lower then. Even with the mask, I felt uncomfortable speaking to someone who could see me."

"You've improved."

His smile flashed in the dark slot of the mouth. "Maybe I have, but I've a long way to go." He held up the pack. "Turn back the duvet, and I'll put this on your leg."

She did as asked, exposing the hermetically sealed plastic casts that enclosed her thighs. A narrow strip of skin was all that showed of her legs between the casts and her panties. Too late, she realized she was wearing the Bugs Bunny pattern. Her flight suit and t-shirt had gone missing. Why the panties alone had been cleaned and returned to her she couldn't figure. Sam's golden eyes flickered at her, a trace of amusement visible in the glance and she glared at him, daring him to comment. Instead he positioned the gel pack to the small strip of exposed flesh near her crotch. At first the touch of the gel was cool on her skin. Then it felt sticky, and cold. 

"Yeuch!"

"Hold still. It takes a few moments to set itself to your biorhythm."

She suffered the touch and after a few moments it became less unpleasant. Bennett stepped back and nodded. 

"The nanocytes are entering your blood stream. They'll move to the areas of your body where the injuries are and begin work repairing them. You'll be up and about by tomorrow noon, tops."

"Thanks," she said gruffly.

"You're welcome." He made as if to leave, but hesitated. "I hope you don't think ill of me, Jan." 

"No, not much. I'm just a pilot; a damn good pilot if you must know." She waved her hand to encompass the room and everything beyond. "You, all this set-up; it's just a wee bit too rich for me."

He looked her in the eye. "I think you're doing yourself down, Jan."

Before she could reply, he'd gone.

* * * * *

Jan fell asleep quickly, and she slept well. Whether something in the drugs she'd been given made her sleep, or else a by-product of the nanocyte activity she didn't know. When she woke in the morning she felt refreshed.

The pain in her legs had gone. She pulled up her t-shirt and examined her body for bruising and abrasions and found nothing. Kicking away the duvet with legs made stiff by the casts she found the gel-pack lying flat and gray alongside her. There wasn't even a red mark on her thigh to show it had been attached to her.

Above her the med unit came to life and extended a diagnostic probe. It whirred for a few seconds before retracting, and Tyree spoke for the first time since she'd tore into him. "The nanocytes excelled themselves. You are fit and well, Ms. Hughes, four hours short of the estimated time."

"Thanks. Get these casts off my legs. I want to get out of here."

"As you wish."

Tentacles extended, touched the release points along the seams of the casts and they popped open. Without waiting for the machine to do the job she pulled them off and dropped them by the bed. When she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood up, a surge of dizziness swept over her and she had to clutch the med unit for support.

"It will pass in a while," Tyree said in a soothing tone.

"Wonderful!" she snapped. "Where are my clothes?"

"I'm afraid we had to cut them off you following the accident. They were ruined in any case, apart from your panties. I've arranged for replacements." 

One of the servitor robots rolled up and offered her a bright yellow tunic and baggy pants in a creamy white. 

"Uh!" She plucked them from the servitor's hands and held them up to the light, then against herself. "Hmm. Not bad. Thanks," she said grudgingly.

"You're welcome. I'm sorry if you were upset at my machinations last night, Ms. Hughes," Tyree said. "I meant it for the best."

She paused in the act of drawing up the pants. "Whose best, Tyree? It was a dirty trick, so it was!"

"I should point out that I wasn't alone in creating the plan. Your aerodyne had a degree of input."

"What? </i>Amelia</i> had a hand in this? Gods, I wish you had a physical form I could look at so I can slap you! How dare you!"

"I wanted to make you comfortable, Ms. Hughes. Sex is an important part of human existence, both in terms of reproduction and recreation. When </i>Amelia's</i> AI told me that you have not had a partner for some time, I felt it would make both you and the Professor feel good to share an intimacy. He also has been without company for years, and you can't deny it was an act of kindness."

Jan clenched her fists, feeling outrage bubbling inside her. "</i>Amelia</i> told you that? Dear gods, the little sneak! Y' know, I bloody well marvel at how little you know about us." She tapped her chest. "We like to make up our own minds about our partners. We really prefer not to have bloody machines decide to play with our lives! After millions of years of evolution, we've got it down to a fine art."

"In terms of physical attraction, certainly - but what of emotional attraction?"

"What?"

"I registered your reaction to the Professor's presence all the time you've been a guest here, Ms. Hughes. You exhibit signs of sympathy, which are natural given his appearance. Yet I also noticed an attraction."

"You're reading too much into this." She pulled the tunic over her head, adjusted the fit, and headed out the door. "Good bye!"

The AI's voice followed her through the hacienda.

"I don't think I am misreading you. The brainwave patterns in your minds are quite distinct. They can tell exactly what you are thinking and feeling; if you lie or tell the truth. As the scenario played out last night, I measured your mental activity as a matter of course. Your own mind betrayed you, Ms. Hughes. You do feel attracted to the Professor."

"Machine as matchmaker," she snapped, "playing with human lives. Deus ex machina, even!"

She reached the door to the courtyard and walked out into the cool early morning. The top branches of the almond tree were lit by the rising sun, and the small bird-like creatures of Orpheus moved in quick rainbow-hued darts amongst them. Clusters of blossom were already beginning to unfold to greet the new day.

"We've had enough of gods around here. We like to do things our own way, Tyree," she said quietly. "Yes, I've been lonely. People look at me and they see a pilot, not a woman." She spread her hands and looked down at herself. "I'm no pin-up; no Saint Diana. This is my world, my life now, and I'm proud of it all. I could use a man in my life, gods know, but I want to choose him in my own way, my own time. Is that so hard to understand?"

"I meant well, Ms. Hughes."

"That road to the Christian hell is paved with good intentions, Tyree. Learn from this, and just leave me alone!"

An arched passageway led to an outer door and beyond that the lawn in front of the house. A broad gravel track, rather overgrown with weeds, stretched away down the hill toward the shore. Somewhere out on the lightening sea the survey ship </i>North Star</i> was heading for Jade Island. She decided to wait down by the small jetty. Setting foot on the path, she thought of Sam Bennett and hesitated.

"Tyree?" she called over her neural link.

"Yes, Ms. Hughes?"

"…Nothing. There's nothing to say."

"Have you anything to say to your aerodyne?"

"Tell her I'll have some words to say to </i>her</i> later!"

* * * * *

Sam walked onto the balcony and gazed down at the path to the sea. A lonely figure strode there, arms swinging, head high. For a moment he hoped she would stop and look back, but she disappeared around a bend in the path and was lost to view.

He reached up to rub his chin and his fingers encountered cold porcelain. Giving vent to a cry of disgust he tore it from his face and flung it out over the railing. It spun through the air and dropped, shattering to a hundred pieces when it hit the gravel. He leaned forward and stared at the spot where she had vanished, his grip on the ironwork turning his knuckles white.

A speck of white appeared on the far horizon, almost hidden by the morning glare. He shaded his eyes and squinted, until he could make out the form of the research ship. "The </i>North Star's</i> approaching," he said.

"Indeed."

He watched the distant ship for ten minutes, calculating her speed. "She'll be offshore in two hours."

"Had I better activate a servitor and have it pack Ms. Hughes' things? It can take her baggage down to the jetty if she doesn't wish to return here."

Sam leaned on the rail, took a deep breath, and nodded. "Yes, but have it bring the baggage to the front door."

"Professor?"

"I'll take it to her myself."

* * * * *

Jan sat on a rock sticking up out of the shingle above the high tide mark. The smell of rotting seaweed and salt was strong. Most of Orpheus was covered by water; the smell seemed everywhere, at once familiar from long exposure, and yet subtly alien to a girl from the Galway coast, used to the oceans of Earth.

Memories of that childhood time grew strong, and she found herself humming </i>Galway Bay</i> softly to herself. A tear wetted her cheek, and she brushed it away angrily. "It'll be </i>Fields of</i> feckin' </i>Athenry</i> next!" she said, and laughed at the bitterness in her voice. "Who am I kidding? I'm just trying to forget </i>him</i>."

The memory of the song brought other memories, of a dangerous time when a god walked through the world bringing death and destruction to all he encountered. It was a time of clashing ice, of boiling clouds in a preternatural storm. She remembered the blind panic that gripped her as she flew through the worst of it above the ravaged township of Home, seeking to carry Craig Lowell to rescue his lover and her friend Cassie.

"Stop it girl, for feck's sake!" she told herself, scooped up a handful of shingle and flung it at the tranquil sea.

A stone clattered down the rough track and fell with a dull crunch onto the shingle. Startled she looked round and up – and stared.

Sam Bennett was standing on the path a few feet away, a small suitcase in his hand. He looked sheepish, and that was what grabbed her attention like nothing else.

"You've ditched the mask!" she said, standing up.

He looked away and closed his eyes briefly. "I hope I'm not too hideous?" 

"No; no, not at all."

The golden irises gleamed in the sunlight as he looked directly at her. "I took the risk. I didn't feel healed, Jan. Not until you came."

She crunched up the shore and onto the path, and stood in front of him. "I'm glad to help." She examined his face quite openly. He suffered her scrutiny, although his body was tense, as if he was ready to flee from her presence. "You're a good lookin' fella, Sam Bennett, so you are."

It was the face from the virtual reality that she saw. Whatever the mask had done, it had worked miracles. She pointed at the case. "Are you planning on running away too?"

He laughed softly and held it up. "No. I've done enough running in my life. I brought your things down here, to save you having to come up to the house."

"Glad to see the back of me, are you?" she asked in an arch tone as she reached down and took the case from him.

"Jan. I want you to stay. I hope you'll say yes."

His voice was firmer than she'd ever heard it. Something in his stance was different; it had changed from the time she'd made it clear she wasn't going to run from him.

"I don't know, Sam." She turned away and stood looking out to sea. "It was a dirty trick your AI pulled."

"Yes. Tyree won't do it again."

"I should hope not!"

"Won't you stay?" She heard the shingle creak under his steps as he came up behind her. 

"I'd be bored in an hour." She turned her head briefly toward him. "I've got too much to do out there. </i>North Star's</i> been without a pilot or an aerodyne for nearly a year." The handsome Polynesian face of her old friend Thomas Ho hung in her mind's eye, a broad smile on his lips, his bioluminescent tattoo glowing with good humor. "They never did bring in a replacement for… for a friend of mine."

"Jan, there's more than just VR scenarios to play with on this island." The golden eyes gleamed and she stared up into them. "As for your job, they owe you some leave time." His hand came up to stroke her cheek. "You're a heroine, Jan. I read about what happened back then. No-one else would have flown into that storm to take on a god."

She felt her face grow warm. "Yeah, well… I was press-ganged."

His smile widened. "I can't believe anyone can make you do something you don't want to." 

"They could, but they'd have to be very persuasive."

For an answer he cupped her face in his hands, leaned close, and kissed her. She blinked, but responded to his presence, his warmth, the gentle strength in his hands and body. His tongue flickered over her teeth and she opened her mouth and sucked it in, rolling it between her lips. An increasing pressure made itself felt against her belly as he grew hard and she pressed closer, savoring the feel of it, the feel of her own growing arousal.

"No!" She stepped back and turned away. "Dammit, Sam, I'm not ready for this!"

His hands rested on her shoulders. "Are you really so upset? Your body'll say you're telling lies if you say you are."

"I'm not upset, I'm just not ready." She shrugged off his hands. "I need time."

"As you wish it, so shall it be."

She felt the brush of his lips against the back of her neck, and his closeness, his warmth, went away.

When she turned some minutes later, he was a distant figure, striding up the path toward the hacienda. The case lay where she'd dropped it, but it was now lying on its side. On top, pinned down by a pebble to prevent it blowing away in the breeze, was a sprig of almond blossom. Underneath that lay a slip of paper, on which was a poem.

"The hope, in dreams of a happier hour, that alights upon misery's brow, springs out of the silvery almond flower that blooms on a leafless bough."

* * * * *

As the </i>North Star's</i> launch approached the jetty, she could see Captain Dalip Singh himself at the helm, his navy blue turban gleaming like a great sapphire. A crewman waited in the bows with a coil of line, ready to throw it up to her to secure to a bollard. She waited at the end of the jetty, feeling self-conscious in the new clothing. 

Her appearance hadn't gone unnoticed. Dalip's teeth flashed in his dark face.

"Good morning to you, Jan-guldaz! You're looking very fine!"

She felt her face grow warm. "Yeah, well…" 

She caught the rope as it was flung to her and tied it quickly about the bollard as Dalip cut the engines and let the boat coast up to the fenders hung along the jetty wall. The crewman leapt up to secure the aft mooring, and Dalip climbed the steps at a more sedate pace. He took her hands. "Good to see you, my friend. How are you feeling?" he asked softly. "We weren't expecting you to recover for weeks."

"The professor had a medical trick or two up his sleeve." She gestured to her legs. "As you can see, I'm upright, moving, and – "

He tilted his head and gave her a look of curiosity. "Ready to leave?"

Her throat felt constricted. "I'm not sure."

"Is the good professor so persuasive he can keep you from leaving?" Dalip's gaze flickered from her to the distant hacienda, shining brightly in the sun. "We were under the impression he's a recluse."

"Not through choice," she said quickly.

"Ah. He's made himself agreeable to you during your stay?"

"Very." She looked up into Dalip's face. Behind the fierce, bearded warrior visage of the Sikh was an intelligent and thoughtful man, and a good commanding officer – and her friend. She drew the sprig of almond from her pocket and held it between finger and thumb, rolling it slowly back and forth.

"Dalip, I think I may have done Sam Bennett an injustice."

* * * * *

He was standing beneath the almond tree when she walked under the archway. For a moment he was unaware of her silent presence in the shadows as he gazed upwards, apparently lost in thought as he contemplated the blossom. Some instinct made him look down, and he saw her, waiting silently. She held up the little sprig of blossom and smiled. 

The End