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Copyright ©2008 by Mikala Ash

First published in 2008, 2008

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CONTENTS

Spaceport: Forget Me Not

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Epilogue

Mikala Ash

* * * *

Spaceport: Forget Me Not

A Holly Barberossa Erotic Adventure

Mikala Ash

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2008 Mikala Ash

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Spaceport: Forget Me Not

A Holly Barberossa Erotic Adventure

Mikala Ash

...Dread raked its way through her chest...

"The wreckage was fused solid. There was no hope."

"Felis, what are you saying?"

"He's dead, Holly. Maxim's gone!"

Maxim Dollavera dead?

Spaceport Adana goes into mourning for their fallen hero, but Holly Barberossa refuses to believe he's gone. She wears a Forget-Me-Not pheromone pendant to constantly remind her of the love of her life. She keeps herself busy by reporting on the stalled trial of the traitor, Riz Gitto, who she and Maxim had been instrumental in bringing to justice.

The judge, Kasamee Kee, enlists Silas Archimedes, a private eye, to protect Holly without her knowledge while she uses her as bait to flush out the conspirators, chief among them the glamorous socialite and suspected pirate Mischa and her new slave, the very sexy Murukan.

Can Holly solve the mystery of Maxim's disappearance? Despite her undying love for Maxim, will Holly succumb to the charms of Silas or the mysterious Murukan, who strangely reminds her of her lost lover?

[Back to Table of Contents]

Prologue

"In yet another delaying maneuver, counsel for the accused has applied to the IAC High Court to challenge the right of the local Adana authorities to try the case. A decision on that motion, the twenty-third delaying tactic used by the defense so far, is expected to be made in three days. Meanwhile, the prosecution has applied for a no confidence hearing into the competence of the presiding judge, His Honor Milton Hashinger-Smythe. More on this intriguing and increasingly long-winded case as it comes to hand. This is Holly Barberossa signing off for the Adana Observer."

Holly snapped her smartcam shut with an emphatic click. It had been a long, long night. The interminable hearing into the Riz Gitto treason case had once again gone on into the early hours, and Holly rankled at the necessity to change her circadian rhythm to cope. It had taken her so long to get her frenetic work style synchronized with Adana's twenty-four hour society as it was, to once again alter the settings of her body clock would be sheer hell.

Especially now that she was alone. Holly lifted the turquoise Forget-Me-Not pendant to her nose. She inhaled deeply. Maxim Dollavera's lusty pheromones flooded her nostrils, careered along her receptor neurons and smashed into her olfactory bulbs like a quantum torpedo.

Instantly, her body warmed with a wash of lust that hardened her nipples as if Maxim himself was kissing them. Between her thighs a sultry heat surged into the pit of her belly, giving birth to that bittersweet throb of desire.

Though Maxim had been gone only three weeks, she missed him like she would an amputated limb; his absence was a persistent ache that could only be cured by his return. The emptiness inside her grew each day, and it became a greater chore to motivate herself in the mornings when she awoke in a lonely bed. As compensation she gave herself several more hits of the Forget-Me-Not.

The crystals were embedded with Maxim's scent which she'd collected from a discarded shirt the day after he'd left for the Carnassian Void. When activated by a gentle touch, the pendant emitted a few precious molecules that could, in her heartsick mind, evoke his very presence.

With her pussy throbbing with unsatisfied desire, she once again questioned her decision not to accompany him on his scavenging run into that seldom visited but rich sector of the galaxy's outer rim, where extinct alien species were rumored to have left their treasures, and shattered planets held mineral wealth beyond imagining.

She'd argued that, as a reporter who had been instrumental in Riz Gitto's failure to take over Adana, she was duty bound to see the case through to its conclusion, and the argument had been prolonged and tense. She felt a bit of a fool now that Maxim's prediction that the case would be bogged down for months, even years, had proven correct. He'd argued that, if they wanted him as witness any time soon, Judge Hashinger-Smythe would not have granted him permission to leave in the first place.

Holly hated parting on bad terms but she vowed to make it up to him when he returned. As much as she disliked leaving work unfinished, she decided she'd agree to go on his next trip, wherever he wanted and for however long. That would please him and assuage her regret at the same time, not to mention avoid this horrendous loneliness.

God, I miss you.

He'd said the trip would be only for a month, but he left in such a huff that she wouldn't be surprised if he stayed away longer just to teach her a lesson. Not that she thought he could ever do something so infantile and she kicked herself for being churlish. He would be away for as long as his mission required and not a minute longer. She knew, in the deepest part of her soul, that regardless of the manner of their parting, Maxim missed her as much as she did him. The fact that he left her sub-space messages every day “... just to say hi,” proved that.

Holly entered the Observer office and gave Roberta a cheery wave. The alien entity, currently residing within a robot body, returned her greeting with an empty manikin smile. “Morning, Holly."

Holly was always surprised at how satisfied the ancient and incorporeal alien seemed to be, living inside a robot's clumsy body and working as the Adana Observer front office receptionist. She seemed to be enjoying her relationship with Maxim's best friend, the hunky leonine Felis, though Holly knew that an organic body would be much appreciated as Roberta had once remarked, “It would be nice to feel an orgasm the way humans do."

Holly and Maxim had investigated the legality of growing an organic body in a regeneration clinic, the source cells harvested from the Adana Funereal Recycling Plant, but found it to be illegal on Adana. Maxim said that there were other worlds where the procedure did not violate local laws, and they had put on hold the decision while they wrestled with the ethical issues and the significant legal difficulties of creating an identity for Roberta so she could return to Adana, if she so wished.

"How is he today?” Holly indicated Vinnie's door with a tilt of her head.

"No change,” Roberta said. “He is a troubled person."

"You got that right.” After the former secretary's arrest for collaborating with Riz Gitto in last year's failed coup, her boss Vinnie Mostoloff had been down in the chops worse than a depressed Mendovian hound. He had lusted after Vesty for ages and to discover he'd been used by such a pernicious personality had hit him hard.

Holly swept into his office and threw herself into the visitor's chair. “Hey there, boss!"

Vinnie gazed morosely at her from beneath hooded brows. “Any word from Maxim?"

She sighed forlornly. “Not for a few days.” Maxim's sudden silence bothered her. A dim disquiet had been growing in her gut when last night's call didn't eventuate. She'd sent her own sub-space dispatch but there had as yet been no reply. She didn't like it. Maxim was a consummate pilot but still she worried about him. The black, the spacer term for the deep dark between the stars, held many dangers that have no respect for human skill or ingenuity.

"When is he due back?” Vinnie asked, drawing her out of her thoughts.

"Not for another month,” Holly said and sighed again. She noticed she had been doing that a lot lately, sighing loud enough for others to hear. She'd never been so lonely before in her life and the feeling was quite disturbing. “He said in his last transmission that he and Felis had found an asteroid with a duridium deposit, whatever that is."

"Money,” Vinnie said gruffly, but seemed to relax at the news. “He may be longer if that's the case. Duridium is in demand all across the galaxy. It's likely you'll both be very rich, Holly."

"Don't worry, boss. I won't leave you even if I am dripping in gemstones."

He grunted and she guessed what he thought of the probability of that happening, though Holly suspected there had been something else on his mind. He seemed more preoccupied than usual. She didn't like the sound of this duridium stuff. If Maxim and Felis had made a big find they might be away longer than they had planned. She didn't know how she'd survive.

"I'm glad he's safe,” Vinnie continued. “I've just heard there was a passenger ship disaster just outside the Carnassian Void."

Holly felt that buzz of excitement whenever there was the merest scent of a story but before she could process that bit of information there came a commotion from outside the office door. Roberta cried out and then the door was flung open. Holly stood up and gazed at the intruder. It was, unaccountably, Felis, who should be out there, beyond Adana's walls, in the black with Maxim. She automatically glanced over his shoulder expecting to see her love, but Felis was alone.

There was something very wrong with his appearance. The usually immaculate leonine was disheveled and grimy. His golden fur had not been cleaned for days and the fur around his big eyes was matted as if ... as if...

Roberta tried to embrace him but the big leonine didn't seem to see her. His big oval eyes, glistening in the harsh light of the overheads, were fixed solely on Holly. He grabbed hold of her, drawing her into his broad chest. Holly couldn't breathe he squeezed her so tight. After a moment she pushed him away. “You big cat,” she chided. “What's the matter? You look terrible."

She gazed into his agonized expression. She'd been right. He had been crying. The fur beneath his eyes was wet. “Sit down,” she said and guided him to a chair. He took a deep shuddering breath and fell into it as if the strings holding up his powerful body had been cut and he was now exposed as a mere puppet.

"I'm so sorry,” he sobbed.

"Don't be silly. Spit it out!"

"We were staking out our asteroid, putting down beacons, when we heard a distress call.” He took another sobbing breath. “It was a passenger liner, the Euripides. They were being attacked by pirates."

"And?” she prompted, kneeling in front of him.

"Euripides was holed and disabled,” he cried. “The passengers and crew taken. The captain got off a sub-space SOS before the bridge was blown apart. By the time we got there, the pirates were mopping up, stealing cargo and luggage."

An empty void was forming in the pit of her stomach. “Go on."

"We popped out of sub-space in the middle of their fleet. There were six of them.” Felis's voice broke again. “There was nothing we could do. They opened up on us with quantum torpedoes as soon as we entered normal space. We had no chance."

That black pit inside her chest coalesced into an iceberg. “Felis,” she said, her voice edged with fear. “Where's Maxim? Still chasing them, I bet."

His downcast eyes told her otherwise. “I was clobbered the instant I hit normal space. I peeled away and chased the one that shot at me into sub-space. He was too fast, a fighter, he just winked out. When I got back to the Euripides there was nothing I could do."

Dread raked its way through Holly's chest. Blood pounded in her ears so loudly she barely heard his words.

"The wreckage was fused solid. There was no hope."

"Felis, what are you saying?"

"He's dead, Holly. Maxim's gone!"

[Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter One

He awoke to the warm, wet caress of a tongue on his cock. As the sensations grew, his ears filled with the sounds of flesh rubbing against bed sheets and the unmistakable slurp of fellatio.

He tried to open his eyes but they seemed to be weighted down. When he was able to focus, he saw a halo of platinum hair bobbing at his groin. The head stopped moving, the fellatrix aware of his return to consciousness.

Jade eyes rose above the head of his swollen cock, swimming in and out of focus like big green balloons waving in the wind. “At last, you're awake.” Her accented voice held a mocking tone. The porcelain skin of her oval face glowed ethereally in the bedroom's dim lights. Her full lips were a deep crimson and curved seductively into a wanton smile. He tried to place her, but no name or familiarity came to him from the black depths of his mind. His memory seemed to be an empty void. With alarm, he tried to dig for his own name and who and what he was, but again, there was nothing.

The one thing he was sure of was the conflicting sensations pulsing through his body. The first was the general ache that suffused his whole being, as if he had been dropped from a great height onto rocks and each and every bone was broken. The second sensation, one of intense pleasure, was arising from his erection that this strange beauty was stroking from the base to the head with long delicate fingers.

The smiling fellatrix returned her attention to his cock and attacked his erection with a ferocity that left him gasping with pure pleasure. Her long nails caressed his ball sack, sending shivers of lust coursing through him. A moistened finger found its way to his anus, first caressing the puckered skin and then plunging within. The sudden pain took flight into ecstasy, his orgasm a strange blossoming of sensation that swept through his consciousness like a summer storm, taking his breath away as it passed.

"The med-bot said you'd be out for another twenty-four hours, but I couldn't wait. I have plans for you.” Her voice, sharp and full of energy, made him feel as if he should know her, but again his memory was a closed vault, allowing nothing to escape.

He tried to move but his muscles, his whole body, seemed heavy and unfamiliar, as if he were an insect breaking through its pupa, discarding the old carcass and testing the strange wet shell that now enveloped him.

She blessed the glistening head of his cock with a final kiss then moved up to look closely into his face. He blinked, trying to refocus. With thumb and forefinger, she held his lids wide open. Those big green balloons bobbed in and out of his field of view. “Yep, looking good."

He spoke but no sound came. His lips moved, but produced nothing except a rasping sigh.

She had a soft tinkling laugh that echoed gently inside his head, knocking at the vaulted door of his memory, but the door remained firmly closed. “Plenty of time,” she said. “I don't need you for a couple of days. The med-bot will supervise your rehabilitation."

Again he tried to speak but she silenced him with warm fingers pressed against his tender lips.

"Now you've probably already guessed you've been in an accident. A pretty bad one, too. But we've rebuilt you, so you look perfect.” She smacked her lips. “And taste divine."

"Who are you?” His voice rasped, sounding as if it came from the back corner of a mechanical repair shop so that he hardly heard it and certainly didn't recognize it.

She laughed. “Why, sugar, I'm your new owner."

* * * *

Silas Archimedes cast an appraising eye over the vision of loveliness as she swept past him and the Adana Observer's reception desk. He'd been talking to an android receptionist, booking a space for an advertisement for his agency, when the beauty had rushed headlong into the editorial office.

She was petite and very athletic, her small body bursting with energy, trim frame encased in a tight jumpsuit, her long raven hair flowing behind her like a cape. She seemed to him to be like a bird of prey, never resting, seeking action. Holly Barberossa was, he figured, a whole lot of woman and a whole lot of trouble.

Silas had met her type before; the dreaded career woman. She'd have an ego as big as the Jondyce Drift and be self-centered beyond imagining, unpredictable, willful and provocative. She'd be a shitload of trouble, and that, he knew, was what was so appealing about her. Quiet sedate women had never attracted him, only the firebrands. He was a fool, he knew, to fall for such women. He always got burned when he played with the flames, yet he always jumped back into the inferno.

His body had thrilled at the sight of her as it did each time he saw her on the vid. He was a compulsive viewer of her news reports, but like so many other males on Adana, it wasn't for the news. He had, he admitted freely to himself, become obsessed with her during his short time in the spaceport. With those big iridescent blue eyes, she was a blinding light outshining even the most kaleidoscopic denizens of the spaceport. He'd often imagine her bucking beneath him as he fucked her into, into what ... submission?

Not likely. She wouldn't be one to submit to anyone, and that was something else that appealed to him. If she was with you, it would be on her own terms, and once she decided you were it, he figured, you would know she was yours forever.

She was the opposite of Kasamee Kee, the new judge assigned to the Gitto treason case. Now there was a real piece of work. Cool to the point of frigidity, and beautiful in a crafty sort of way. Blonde hair, green eyes that shone with a piercing light of their own and ivory skin that was whiter than white. She looked at everyone as if they were an insect on a mounting pin, skewered through the spine and wriggling helplessly beneath her amused gaze. She belonged to no one, and he guessed, if you got too involved with her, it would be a case of you belonging to her not the other way round.

"You come highly recommended,” the judge had said to him that morning in her new office, her silent but ever watchful bodyguard standing at the door. Silas could feel his baleful gaze fixed on the back of his head.

The summons to meet her had come as a surprise, being the last thing he expected, given his mission. Her arrival on Adana had been secret, as was her new role. That would change soon, he figured. The trial was not going well, too many delays, and she'd been sent, he knew, to put it back on track. She was certainly the one to do it.

"Your reputation precedes you,” he countered.

"Then you know I am beyond reproach."

That's what everyone said about her. All of his sources had been in agreement. She was as clean as a whistle; whiter than white, purer than the snows of Pelladon, and that made him suspicious. No one could be that clean.

She was the best of the current flock of judges and was soon to become the Chief Justice of the IAC, arguably the most important role in the government. She would become the sole arbiter of the law. She would advise the government on every aspect of galactic life, interpreting the law to accommodate the unexpected scenarios that in a dynamic galactic civilization came up on a daily basis, but she'd be the one calling the shots. Absolute power would reside with her and everyone knew what that does to people. “I hope your research showed you that I do not tolerate fools."

"Not in so many words, but someone in your exalted position didn't get there by relying on the advice of idiots."

A hint of a smile curled the corners of her ruby hued lips. He had a flash fantasy of kissing those lips just before she sucked his cock. He wondered how close a copy her mouth was to the lips between her thighs.

"You've been in my office three minutes,” she said unexpectedly, her green eyes sticking him to the mounting board.

"I can't contradict your timekeeping,” he said, uncertain of her meaning.

"You're male, which means you've had your first fantasy about fucking me by now."

He laughed. He couldn't help himself. “You're female,” he said. “I've noted you've glanced at my thighs twice, my mouth six times and my crotch seven."

She cocked her head to the side slightly, her jade eyes glistening in amusement. “Eight, but who's counting?"

"Please excuse my imperfect powers of observation. They were no doubt blinded by my lustful fantasies."

His cock was hard in his pants; she'd already seen that, he knew. Usually at this point with a pretty woman, he'd be pouring on the charm, but not with this one. She was far too dangerous. But what was all this about? Could she just be flirting with him for flirting's sake? She was too clean to have called him here to have sex; that's what the bodyguard was really for. The guard was handsome and his athletic build was hardly disguised by his justice department uniform. Kasamee Kee, it seemed, liked her eye candy and a lot more besides.

"I need someone of the highest principles to conduct some research for me."

He stood up. “I think you have the wrong guy."

She waved him back into his seat. “No false modesty. I've read your dossier. You've been valuable to the Justice Department in the past and you will be to me.” The unspoken “or else” was clear in her voice.

He sat back down. He hoped she'd read his sanitized service record and not his real CV, otherwise he was dead meat. “What do you have in mind?"

"Holly Barberossa. What do you know of her?"

That was from left field. “The reporter? She's a typical newshound but not so typical, if you get what I mean. She loves the limelight, has become the Adanan poster girl. She has the gumshuck approach to investigative journalism."

"Gumshuck?"

"It's a small mammal that lives in the jungles of Eskillion IV. It hunts a much larger predator, the ranquord, by shaking the tree in which it lives. When the angry ranquord comes down to see what the racket is about, the gumshuck strikes. It has a tongue which is coated with rows of sharp incisors and tears the hapless ranquord to strips. Holly Barberossa is like that. She latches onto a hint of a story, gives the branch a shake and sees what falls out. That's how she got Riz Gitto."

Kasamee Kee cocked an appraising eye at him. “She has principles?"

"She has a naïve but strong sense of what's right and what's not. Don't get me wrong, she's intelligent and can smell a hypocrite a mile away. When she has the scent, she's vicious and she'll cut them to pieces with just a single innocent question. Anyone with anything to hide and any sense refuses to talk to her. She's a real terror, especially to government officials. When she was the subject of a bet on her being assassinated, she's believed to have secretly organized bets to be placed on every member of the Council and Chamber of Commerce. They changed the laws and made such betting illegal; the quickest example of legislative action in human history."

A knowing smile creased her lips. “You admire her?"

"There's a lot to admire. She brought down the coup, after all."

"Is she pliable?"

"I'd say she'd be un-buyable."

"I didn't say I want to buy her. Can she be manipulated?"

Silas saw what was coming. He didn't like it one little bit. “She's too smart for that."

"All you need do is nudge her in the right direction."

"And what direction would that be?"

"I'll let you know."

He studied her for a moment, trying to see behind the inscrutable gaze. She doesn't trust me, yet. Does she know why I'm really here? “And when will that be?” he asked, feeling all the more like that insect pinned to the table.

"Soon. Have you met her?"

"I've only just arrived on Adana myself."

"Yet you know so much about her.” She silenced his response with a wave of her hand. “Arrange to meet her on some pretext, get to know her, get her measure. Report back to me—give me your judgment of her character, not her hype, mind, I want to know the real Holly Barberossa."

"Is that all?"

"For the moment.” Her eyes dropped to his crotch.

"That's nine,” he said.

"If your report is helpful, we may get into double figures."

"That makes me feel a whole lot better,” he said from the door, aware that the dark gaze of the bodyguard was on him. “Now I have some incentive."

[Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter Two

Holly didn't want to be here. A Mendovian funeral ceremony was long, twelve hours, and replete with dozens of little rituals designed to allow the loved ones to say farewell and move on. All very well if you believed your loved one was dead.

The last weeks had been a nightmare. When Felis had delivered his terrible news, she insisted on interrogating him, getting him to describe his actions from the moment they returned to normal space to find the pirate vessels making ready to depart the scene of the crime.

As Peridae, Maxim's sister-in-law, sang a heart-crushing Mendovian lament for the dead, Holly went over what he had told her for what seemed like the millionth time.

Felis had been adamant that they were attacked the split second they appeared in normal space. The pirates were no doubt on the lookout for any naval response to the SOS and had fired off their torpedoes as soon as they had registered a disturbance in the normal space-time continuum. Felis said he had luckily dodged the first torpedo but the second one had struck one of his engine nacelles, and when he recovered he went after his attacker. He'd been too busy staying alive to see what had happened to Maxim until he returned to the battle scene. Maxim's ship, the Vesper, was a twisted hulk, fused metal still glowing red from the energy blast from the quantum torpedo.

By then the navy and some other ships who had responded to the SOS had arrived. Some had given chase but the pirates were long gone. They had taken over a hundred captives, the poor devils bound for slavery if their families could not buy them back. Among them were some rich daughters of mining magnates on a galactic tour, a couple of holo-vid actors and, of all things, a college marching band.

Felis had climbed into his spacesuit and, risking a high dose of residual radiation, searched the wreckage of Maxim's ship but could find nothing of the cockpit that was recognizable. “He's gone, Holly,” he repeated. “No one could survive that."

She had refused to believe him, insisting that Maxim must have escaped. “Did he eject? Did you search for him?"

Felis said that he and other Scavenger Guild ships had scoured the battle area looking for Maxim, hoping as she had, that he had ejected from the ship in time. But there had been nothing but the wreckage from the Euripides and the usual detritus of deep space; rocks and dust.

It wasn't until the remains of Maxim's ship, which Felis had returned to Adana, had been dismantled that they recovered Maxim's left thumb. To everyone else this confirmed Maxim was dead. It was not, however, enough to convince Holly he was gone. It just wasn't possible. It was as simple as that. She insisted that he'd been taken by the pirates, losing his thumb in the struggle. Felis said there had not been time for Maxim to be taken prisoner. He had only been gone from the scene for thirty minutes and the pirates had left the scene very smartly.

Holly had made loud and very public demands that the navy search for the pirates, to track them down and for once in their history actually capture them. That had not made her popular with the military, but she didn't care. She just wanted Maxim back.

Meanwhile the whole of Adana had gone into mourning for one of their best. Maxim had twice saved the spaceport, once from a meteor shower and then from Riz Gitto's coup. Even though he was a clone, they had adopted him as their hero and now he was gone.

Peridae finished her lament and Zweep, the first of Maxim's brothers, commenced his eulogy, surrounded by twenty of his brothers, the famous Dollavera clones, all saying farewell to a part of themselves.

Holly could hardly bear it. She had refused to wear mourning clothes; she would not betray Maxim that way. She respected his brothers. After all, they shared his DNA and were ninety-nine point nine percent Maxim, but she could not accept the way they had so easily given up on him.

She had expected a Dollavera vendetta against the pirates, but they had done nothing. Zweep Dollavera, head of the Amalgamated Spaceport Guild of Scavengers had explained to her that the family had a code, a rule devised after one of their own was murdered, that said that they would never, by their actions, bring disaster down upon each other, and that included revenge.

And now it was the turn of Felis to say farewell to his friend and lover. She loved Felis as Maxim had done, and she respected his need to say goodbye, but she didn't have to go along with it. In her refusal to accept his death, Holly had distanced herself from the family and Maxim's friends, Felis included. Not being able to share their grief, she had instead enhanced it and made their grieving worse by her obsessive belief that Maxim was still alive.

Her refusal to take part in the ceremony was the only way she could say her piece without overtly insulting the feelings of others any more than she had done. It hurt her to be so distant from the ones she loved, but they were wrong. It was as simple as that.

At last the ceremony was over, followed by the wake at the Haze Bar and Grill which proved to be an even worse ordeal comprised, as it was, by interminable speeches by drunken people who hardly knew him, followed by three cheers and another toast.

This was not the way she wanted it. She made her exit and was just getting to the turbo lift when a voice called out to her. “Holly Barberossa?"

"Who wants to know?"

He was tall and good looking. Sandy hair fell untidily over his forehead, brushing his dark brown eyes. He possessed a warm and genuine smile, the corner of his mouth and his eyes crinkled by mirth lines. He had a languid alertness about him that spoke of supreme self-assuredness. “I'm sorry for your loss,” the stranger said.

"Do I know you?"

"You do now.” He gave a slight bow and held out his hand. “Silas Archimedes at your service."

His grip was firm and warm. “The private dick,” she said, finally placing him. He'd been running an ad for his business, The Eureka Detective Agency, in the Observer the last few weeks.

"Investigator, it says on my license, but hey, whatever the local lingo."

Holly forced a smile. “Is there something I can do for you?"

"I hope we can help each other out."

"How so?"

"I'm on a couple of missing person cases, young tear-a-ways, thugs really, but their mothers are worried."

She smelled the possibility of a story and wanted to know more. At the very least it would clear her mind of the gloom of Maxim's farewell. “Go on."

"Disappeared,” he continued. “You know how difficult that is in a closed environment like Adana."

She did indeed. “Shipped off station?"

"Always a possibility. However, there are no official records of them leaving. Bribery will get you anywhere, I guess, but neither strikes me as particularly smart or cashed up enough to afford a bribe of those proportions—corrupt ‘Port officials don't come cheap. Besides, they had no pressing necessity to scarper."

"Scarper?"

"Run and hide."

"What do you think happened to them?"

"I've been tracing their movements and they both disappeared at the same time."

"So?"

"At the time they were on a job for their gang lord."

She rolled her eyes. “Jeng Hu, Felicity Bragg or Bobby Earlobe?"

"Earlobe. Now there's a piece of work for you."

Holly nodded in agreement. This was now becoming interesting. “Can I buy you a caffee?"

"Thought you'd never ask."

* * * *

"So, you found there are other missing people as well as the two you started with?” They were seated in one of the many Level Six caffee houses. Holly gazed at Silas Archimedes through the steam rising off her cup, not sure what to make of the private dick. He seemed straight enough, ruggedly handsome. His broken nose suggested he wasn't reluctant to get amongst the rough stuff, and that he wasn't vain enough to get some cosmetic surgery to correct it. His brown eyes were bright and inquisitive, searching her face eagerly for something.

"Six in all. Minor crims ... criminals, that is, lowest members of organized crime gangs, the bottom feeders. They seemed evenly spread throughout the three crime families."

"You think there's a gang war brewing?"

He shook his head in the negative. “They had a meeting, the three crime families."

"Very civilized of them.” She wondered at his methods. He'd only been on Adana a short while but already he was knee deep in the underworld. “And what did they decide at this meeting?"

"That they are the victims of vigilantes."

"Victims? That's an interesting use of semantics."

"Isn't it? They think it's either some citizen on a mission of retribution for some wrong they've suffered, which in their view is unlikely, or they suspect the ‘Port Authority of running death squads which have started at the lower rungs to send a signal."

Holly took a sip of her caffee to give her time to ponder what he'd just said. She wouldn't put such a scheme beyond ‘Port Security or the Council. Though what their purpose could be, she couldn't guess. The crime families had traditionally bribed their way to impunity. Had they fallen short or had they somehow overstepped the mark and this was an attempt to bring them to heel? “Who are your sources?"

His lips curled into a smile. “They're good enough."

She respected the confidentiality of sources, but the fact that he was ethical created problems in verification. She didn't know Silas Archimedes from a ju-ju bar so she wasn't about to trust the veracity of his unidentified sources. “I need something to go on."

"I was hoping you knew something."

"Sorry to disappoint."

"Do you have any insiders you can go to?"

She did, but she wasn't going to say so. Besides, the families had been quiet of late. After the Riz Gitto affair, crime had been at an all time low. No one wanted to attract the attention of the super sensitive authorities, but if what Silas was saying was right, then they'd failed badly. “There is a third option,” she said.

"What's that?"

"Another gang muscling in."

"From outside?"

"I haven't heard of any other internal gangs on the rise."

"Surely outsiders would stick out like a sore thumb."

She giggled at his turn of phrase and wondered from what planet he originated. “How about I run a story on your two missing tear-a-ways and see what that attracts."

He reached into his pocket and produced a data slice. “Here's what I have on them. There's not much to go on apart from names, date of birth and ID numbers. They dropped out of official sight as soon as they got out of diapers."

She took it from him. “You seem pretty together,” she said cautiously. “What brings you to Adana?"

He leaned back into his chair, relaxing at last. “Let's just say I had some IAC entanglements that I'd rather distance myself from, and Adana is as distant as you can get without leaving the galaxy."

"It is that.” She gazed at him silently, waiting for him to continue.

He laughed. “I like your style, Holly Barberossa."

"And what style is that?"

"Ask a question and if the answer isn't to your liking you stare into your victim's eyes with that irresistible gaze and with it you draw the truth out of them."

"Is that what I'm doing?"

"I'm tempted to tell all, I really am, but we hardly know each other."

"I'm not giving you the come on,” she said acidly.

"I didn't think you were, but only friends should know as much about me as I do. That means trust and that, Holly Barberossa, takes time."

"You don't have a bad style yourself,” she allowed. “You didn't answer my question to my liking and got us onto a whole different track."

"Unsuccessfully, I see."

"That makes us even.” She drained her caffee cup. “If you get any more, you can get me on this number.” She held out her e-card. He took it, his fingertips brushing hers and his eyes holding her gaze like a vice. A wave of heat swept across her body, touching places that had been cold ever since Maxim had left.

He stood up and gazed down at her. “I understand how hard it must be."

Anger flashed. “What do you mean?"

"Staying on the job despite what happened to Maxim. I've heard how close you two were. You're a professional. I respect that.” He gave a polite bow and turned to leave.

"Wait,” she said.

He cocked his head inquiringly.

She didn't know if he could be trusted, but he was, after all, a private detective. “I wonder if you could do me a favor."

[Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter Three

Silas left the caffee shop both pleased and disgusted with himself. Pleased that Holly liked him—he could tell that by the way her gaze had softened the longer they spoke, and how his words had angered her because she mistook them for having a sexual connotation, which suggested she'd been thinking of him that way herself.

He was disgusted because he had used the funeral of her lover to maximize his impact. Maximize, now there's a dandy play on words for you. Silas, you're a bastard, a real bastard.

There was no denying he wanted to get to know her in every possible way, but to intrude in this moment of profound sadness was beneath him. If only necessity hadn't demanded quick action. He was realist enough to know that he wasn't every woman's ideal mate, but he also knew that most women found him attractive, and when they got to know him, they all wanted to bed him. It wasn't ego or hubris that told him that, just experience.

That Holly had asked him to investigate the circumstances of Maxim's disappearance, as she insisted on calling it, was evidence that she at least trusted his ability. Her request was also good for two other reasons. It kept him close to her, and satisfied his desire to help her accept the fact of Maxim's death. Not that it would speed her into his bed, necessarily, but if she didn't come to grips with his death soon, she was leaving the door open to a lifetime of pain. He decided he would do everything to make her accept reality even if she ended up hating him for it. He knew how bad not letting go could be.

The official investigation, Holly believed, had been badly flawed. She had a healthy distrust of the authorities and in her experience the official line was rarely the truth. He had a few contacts in the navy, he'd told her, and would be able to get at what was between the official findings of death by piracy and her belief that Maxim had been kidnapped.

Silas received Kasamee Kee's summons a scant twenty seconds after leaving the caffee shop. She was waiting for him in her office. Her taciturn bodyguard showed him in, his imposing physique and protective attitude promising violence should Silas step out of line.

"She likes you,” she commented, without looking up from her desk.

He'd known from the start that the judge would have him under surveillance, but to what extent he couldn't guess. Now he could. It was close and it was good. He hadn't noticed anyone or anything following him, and she was a stranger here herself, so having the caffee shop, one they'd chosen at random, bugged would have been beyond her.

He was being tailed, possibly by a nano-bug, an impossibly small flying listening device that would hover about him out of range of his personal anti-bug shield. It was to be expected and didn't anger him in any way, but it suggested Kasamee wasn't leaving the uncovering of Holly's true nature to his judgment alone. “We've achieved a certain amount of rapport,” he said.

"More than that, I'd say.” Her jade eyes narrowed. “The vigilante story, it is true?"

"Don't be so surprised. I am running a legit detective agency. My first two clients were distraught mothers, and yes, the gangs are worried that the ‘Port Authority is making a move on them."

"Could it be true?"

"I haven't found anything that tells me the authorities are behind it. The gangs are notoriously paranoid about this sort of thing."

"A lone vigilante, then."

"Or, as Holly suggested, someone new making a move on them. I have no way of knowing for sure, yet."

"Interesting.” She stood up and walked around the desk to sit on the corner closest to him. She stretched out her long legs and then slowly crossed them. He followed the line of her leg from the nicely shaped ankle, the curve of her calf to her shapely knee. Her upper thigh was exposed. The short tunic she wore beneath her judicial robes had ridden up, giving him a clear view of her creamy flesh. He knew those born on the planet Holth were characteristically pale, but he had no idea how marble-like the complexion could be.

He stirred in his seat. His cock had no reservations about showing his appreciation of the view, and he decided he wouldn't be backward in showing her too. He raised his eyes to meet her amused gaze. “She doesn't believe her lover is dead,” she said. “Sounds like she can't accept reality."

"From what she told me, there are problems with the evidence,” he said. “His family only believes it because Maxim's leonine lover was there."

She frowned. “Yet she doesn't believe him. But what evidence does she want? They found his thumb in the wreck of his ship, did they not?"

"She is a passionate woman. Her love is not easy to achieve, or lose."

"You've discovered the real Holly Barberossa then?"

"Hardly. We've only talked for ten minutes."

"Yet you have strongly held opinions about her."

He shook his head impatiently. “Surface impressions only. I think she is much deeper than what I have seen."

"Then you'll have the chance to dig deeper."

"I don't follow."

"I want you to protect her."

"From what?"

"The threat to her life."

"I wasn't aware there was one."

"Believe me, there is."

He took a moment to consider the implications of the judge's revelation, suppressing the frisson of excitement that the necessity of being close to Holly created. “From who?"

"That, my dear Silas, is what you must discover."

She was playing with him. “What do you know?"

"Simply that there is a suggestion that there is a contract out on her life and the lives of those who were witnesses to the attempted coup."

He quickly put seven and seven together. “You're saying Maxim was murdered deliberately and not by a random pirate attack."

"Precisely."

"Your evidence?"

She clasped her hands about her knee and leaned forward so he could see her ample cleavage. “Classified. Just say that as judge in the trial, several anonymous sub-space intercepts were brought to my attention."

"Why not put them all under protective custody."

Kee shook her head slowly. “I'm a stranger here, Silas, like you. Do you know who you can truly trust?"

He understood her predicament exactly. Getting the witnesses into protective custody might play directly into the hands of the bad guys, whoever they might be. “You want me to tell her?"

She leaned backwards, uncrossed her legs and crossed them again. “Her ability to shake the tree, as you so eloquently put it, may make them visible to us."

"She's bait, in other words."

"Crude, but true."

"With me in the trap beside her."

"What better place to be? You can watch her and protect her, not to mention be close to her. You'd like that, wouldn't you?” She reached out and touched his jaw with a long pink fingernail. “Silas, I've been thinking about you, since our last meeting."

Her jade eyes were sharp and eager. His cock responded to the touch. He'd often heard the male organ being compared to a caged beast, and he recognized the animal now, his erection pressed against his trousers demanding release. “You think I'm so easy to manipulate?"

"Come, come, Silas. I know you want me. Your body betrays your desire. I'll be honest and admit that I want your body too. My body betrays me, does it not?” Her fingers traced the swell of her breast, circling around the point of a very pert nipple. She opened her silky legs. “I am wet. Would you like to feel how wet?"

Silas stirred in his chair. That wild, mindless beast was pushing against the cage of his trousers. He couldn't refuse her, not that he wanted to, but to have sex with her would make him her thing, her pet. He wasn't sure he wanted to hold the rank of minion.

He indicated the silent guard at the door with a tilt of his head. “I don't perform in front of an audience."

"Leave us,” she said, her jade eyes not wavering from his, and he heard the door slide shut behind him. She smiled wickedly. “That better?"

He cleared his suddenly dry throat. “I am conscious of the value of the gift you wish to give me, but the cost is far too high for me."

She threw her head back and laughed. It was a real laugh this time, pure amusement, with no cynicism or sarcasm. When the laugh was exhausted, she opened her eyes, glistening now, wet as if she'd been crying. “Can I be open with you, Silas?"

"I thought that was your intention."

"Now, now, be nice."

He apologized with a slight bob of the head, his eyes drifting to the dark apex between her thighs.

"The cost of my position is that no one, absolutely no one, sees or even thinks of me as a woman. I am the Judge. I am Power. I am the Law. No one flirts with me, no one enjoys my company simply by being with me. Do you understand how lonely that can be?"

"I can imagine the problem."

"Can you?” Locking his eyes with her intense gaze, she proceeded to unbutton her silk blouse, pulling the material apart to expose her creamy white breasts and the light rose pink of the areolas surrounding her erect nipples. “You, Silas, despite your reserve, flirted with me. I can't tell you how much I enjoyed that, how it made me feel. For a brief moment the other day, I was a woman again, not the Chief Justice of the IAC."

So, her promotion had been confirmed and he was to be her celebration fuck. That was good, if that was all it was. Silas searched her eyes for any hint of duplicity in the countenance of the Chief Justice, but what he saw was all woman and that made his cock throb with greater intensity. Her breasts were now entirely exposed, full and round. She cupped them, offering him the nipples. “You are very much a woman,” Silas muttered.

"No longer the Chief Justice?"

He pulled her to him. His mouth found the nearest nipple and he drew it deep into his mouth. The flesh was delicate, warm and soft on his tongue. He slid his hands down her flank and onto her belly. She was breathing fast, her stomach quivering. At first she had been tense; now he felt her relax and fall into his body.

He moved his hands from her midriff to her hips and then down her upper thigh till he found the hem of her tunic. Beneath his hands the firm flesh of her thigh trembled. She opened her legs for him. Her hands moved across his back, pulling him tighter to her. Her breasts were now squashed against his chest.

She opened her legs. He ran his hands along the inside of her thighs. Her flesh was as soft as the petals of a lassa flower, the lush emblem of his home world. She moaned softly as he trailed his lips down her quivering belly.

She was shaved, the pink lips of her pussy standing in contrast to the whiteness of her skin. The folds of her labia were so reminiscent of the lassa that he imagined he was home. The scent of her body was delicate, a perfume so arousing he felt his pulsing cock would burst.

He buried his face between her legs, his lips brushing the delicate folds, and his tongue flicking across the cleft to taste the moisture gathering there. She shuddered and called out softly when he found the swollen nub of her clit.

He stroked the lips of her pussy with his tongue. Delved deep and then, brazenly, left her pussy lips to claim her mouth. “You taste sweet,” he said. “Like honey."

"So I do,” she returned and kissed him again. “We Holthian women are renowned for it."

He laid her back across the desk and, parting her thighs, stepped between the alabaster limbs and stroked the puffy lips of her sex with the head of his cock. Her pussy was wide open and glistening, inviting his invasion. He delayed the attack, gliding the head of his cock along the silky slit, parting the lips wider, teasing her by pretending to advance. She shuddered when he touched the engorged nub of her clit. The tiny organ quivered and he smeared his own juices over it, so that it became a bright lurid pink.

"Fuck me,” she rasped.

Silas pushed his cock between her pussy lips, but only as deep as the ridge encircling the engorged head so that the length of his thick shaft still separated them. He bent his head to once again take the engorged nipple between his teeth. He bit her, gently, while rasping the tip with his tongue.

Her breathing was coming in short staccato bursts, her whole body shuddering in tune with the flicking of his tongue, and when he touched her clit with his forefinger and circled it with increasing pressure, she suddenly wrapped her ankles around his hips and drew him in with one forceful jerk.

Enveloped by the slick, hungry walls of her pussy, Silas drove into her. Grasping her hips for leverage, he ploughed into her with relentless ferocity, losing himself in the basic connectivity of man and woman. Their respective positions in society crumbled beneath the power of his lust.

With the strength of a great mechanical piston, she pulled him into her with her ankles, forcing him deep and then releasing for a moment before driving him in again. At last her whole body tensed as if stretched and then she gave a great shudder as the tension broke. The walls of her pussy pulsed, clenching at his shaft like silken fingers, stroking him to orgasm.

He couldn't resist the powerful yet delicate pulses and, with a cry wrenched from deep inside, he came, all the while driving his cock into her deepest depths. As his cock gave a series of mighty spasms, he collapsed over her.

For a long time they lay clutching at each other, till their breathing slowed and the perspiration of their combined efforts became cold on their flesh. Slowly, reluctantly, Silas withdrew from her body and fell into the chair, exhausted.

Kasamee sat up and gazed at him thoughtfully, her eyes misted with emotion, what exactly he couldn't tell. She absently fingered her nipple, and then, keeping her eyes on his, reached inside her pussy with a long forefinger and took her glistening finger to her lips to taste him. “Sweet,” she muttered.

Boldly he took her in his arms and kissed her. “You're right,” he said. “Though not like honey."

She laughed into his mouth as she kissed him again. “Definitely not like honey.” She sighed then, deep and long. “I wish I were free to enjoy you all afternoon and then the night, but court sits in an hour."

"You're the boss. You're in charge. Cancel today's sitting and we'll fuck our way through to breakfast."

She gave a wistful sigh. “Oh, to be so carefree. I miss being a teenager, don't you?"

"I play teenager every day,” he said. “I still don't know what I want to do when I grow up."

"You make me laugh, Silas Archimedes. But I am no longer a teenager, and neither are you."

"It's fun pretending, though."

"That it is.” On naked feet she padded to the other side of her desk. He was so startled by her change in attitude. Gone was the delicate teenager looking for love and back was the cool professional, the Chief Justice of the IAC. “Give her this."

He took the proffered data slice. “What is it?"

"She asked you to help her investigate Maxim's death, didn't she?"

"Maxim's disappearance,” he corrected.

"Whatever. This is a list of pirates that could be involved."

"Where shall I say I gained this intel?"

"I'll leave that to you,” she said. “You being so orally creative and all."

[Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter Four

It seemed that the new judge was in a hurry to get the case moving again. Holly watched Kasamee Kee closely. She appeared far too glamorous to be a judge on the ascendancy; big hair, luminescent green eyes and the pale almost transparent skin, characteristic of the inhabitants of the ice world of Holth, gave her the appearance of an ethereal creature of the night.

She was competent, no doubt about that! Judge Kee held a strong and disciplined line against the defense, and the case saw more action in a day than the previous six months. Holly suppressed a chuckle at the judge's curt dismissal of a defense lawyer's objection based on the definition of a political coup. “Mister Kershaw. I do believe, if you were the defense counsel of Attila the Hun, we'd still be debating the wording of the charges against him."

"Your Honor? Does that mean you accept my submission for a suspension of this hearing until the definition of the charges are more clearly defined?"

"It certainly does not. Mister Kershaw, I and everyone on this spaceport have a crystal clear definition of these charges. You and your team seem to be the only ones mystified by the language. I suggest you either read the charges again and develop an understanding of them, or your client gets another lawyer—and before you resign as a further means of delaying the case—I have an IAC appointed defense lawyer sitting in the third row just itching to take over, though I doubt her sanity for wishing it. Your application for a deferment is dismissed."

"Your Honor, I object to my client being compared to Attila the Hun."

"Really, Mister Kershaw. You're right, of course. I withdraw it before Attila's descendants sue me for blackening his name with such a comparison."

"Your Honor, I protest!"

"Don't be ridiculous. Now get on with it. Bailiff! Recall the jury."

Holly finished her report on the day's antics and was leaving the courtroom when a familiar voice came to her from over her shoulder. “She's a feisty one, isn't she?"

"Silas. I didn't know you had an interest in the case.” She noted his swift glance toward the now empty judge's bench.

"Only tangentially. I have something that may interest you, though."

"What is it?"

He held up the thin wafer of a data slice. “My contacts in the navy came through with a list of suspected pirates who may have been in the area when the Euripides was hit."

Holly took the slice off him and inserted it into her smartcam's computer. She quickly perused the list of monikers. All were unknown to her except one, Mischa, whose name she recognized from the society gossip columns of the central systems.

She glanced up at him. Silas was standing uncomfortably close, leaning over her, and she could smell the clean brisk aroma of his aftershave.

"The fifth on the list, Mischa,” he pointed out, “has just arrived here."

Her heart quickened. “Legally?"

"All necessary permits and taxes paid for in advance."

"Anything on her?"

"You've not heard of her?"

"Of course, a meaningless socialite."

He pursed his lips and shook his head. “She's far more than that. Mischa has a very colorful past. Officially she's a member of the Trade Guild and owns three dozen cargo ships."

Holly gave a whistle. “Rich."

"Estimated net worth is sixty billion credits."

"Phong's arse!” Holly had no idea she was so significant, but such riches explained her notoriety in the society gossip.

"As you say, Phong's arse."

"What's she doing here?"

"No idea."

She suddenly became aware of his intense gaze and the slightly mocking curl to his lips. “What?"

He coughed and cleared his throat. She was sure his face had reddened. “Nothing ... Umm, anything yet on my missing lads?"

"Nothing. I've put the word out to my sources. I've already done a missing person spot."

"I saw it. Very touching."

She couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not. Personally she thought it was as good as her Ernhard Wis missing person spots she'd run earlier in the year. She'd interviewed both mothers and the missing boys’ respective siblings. It was heart wrenching stuff though she couldn't help but feel that the families no longer expected to see them again. She said as much to Silas.

"They're realists, I suppose. The likelihood of their sons still being alive is slimmer than a worm's dick."

She giggled as she packed up her smartcam and made to move off.

"Where are you going?"

"To meet Mischa."

"Good luck. She has a phalanx of bodyguards protecting her, not to mention her PR manager."

Holly stopped. “You sure she's a pirate? Why would someone with a legit fortune still be involved in piracy?"

He shrugged. “Old habits? Maybe she's a sociopath."

"I'll do a spot on her, see if she'll play with me."

He reached out and grasped her wrist. “Be careful. She's rich, powerful and vicious. She's a killer, believe me."

"I've handled her kind before."

"I hope you're right."

Holly disengaged her arm, aware that her wrist burned with the heat of his fingers. “Trust me. I know what I'm doing."

"Famous last words."

She gave him a quick smile and rushed off down the corridor. She was glad to be away from him. That he was attracted to her was painfully obvious. How she felt about it, Holly didn't want to explore right now. This wasn't the time or place to think about men. She had Maxim to find. She took a hurried sniff of her Forget-Me-Not pendant and a rush of desire coursed through her body.

As she walked, Holly accessed the spaceport central registry and ascertained that the penthouse suite of the Adana Excelsior had been commandeered by a large party. The only such party to arrive in the last few hours, according to the customs database, was from the Orion Trading Company, Mischa's trading name. As she took the turbo lift to the penthouse levels, she accessed the Observer's databank and did a quick study of Mischa herself.

Born of a Holthian slave girl in a warlord's household on the outlaw planet Koenglover VII, Mischa and her two sisters were sold to separate dealers and fifteen years later she was again sold to a spice trader who trained her to assist him. He was, apparently, a kindly man and upon his death she received manumission and inherited his cargo ship. Her first act was to return to Koenglover and kill the warlord, rumored by some to be her father. She escaped with her aged mother who now lived in secluded luxury on one of the central worlds.

Mischa went from strength to strength, dealing in slaves and contraband, never captured by the authorities and slowly accruing vast wealth and power. She was now a celebrity throughout the IAC, but rumors abounded that her fleet of pirates was still active and laundered their money through her various legit businesses.

Inside the lobby of the Excelsior, Holly quickly donned her smartcam and positioned herself with the shiny front desk behind her, aware that the nervous Mendovian concierge was watching her with growing apprehension.

"Viewers, I'm speaking to you from the lobby of the luxurious Excelsior Hotel. The reason I'm here is the unexpected arrival of Mischa, possibly the richest and most famous celebrity ever to visit Adana."

As she spoke, Holly approached the front desk. “Unfortunately, I missed her arrival as it was kept secret by her publicity machine, but I'm hoping that she'll speak to me now. Hi,” she said to the concierge. “I'm Holly Barberossa of the Adana Observer, and your name is?"

The Mendovian's eyestalks twitched in anxiety. “Liss Myson, Holly."

"Pleased to meet you, Liss. I understand you had a famous guest just check in."

Liss Myson licked his lips. “I'm sorry,” he stuttered. “Excelsior policy is that I can't discuss our guests."

"I understand, Liss. I promise not to put you in a compromising position. Could you let Mischa's PR manager know I'm here? Mischa's many fans would be thrilled, I bet, to see her in person."

Without thinking Liss tapped a few keys on his panel and picked up a small communicator. Noting that Holly was watching intently, he took a step back and spoke quietly.

"While Liss is arranging a meeting with the famous Mischa, the richest woman in the galaxy, let me remind you viewers a little bit of Mischa's official life story."

For the next five minutes Holly gave a summary of Mischa's colorful past, letting her voice convey the questions about the more notorious incidents in Mischa's life rather than stating the suspicions out loud. She'd just gotten to the rumor of her having been sighted in the IAC premier's private yacht when a tall warrior type woman in a black leotard appeared at her side.

"Holly Barberossa?"

Holly paused and gave the stunningly attractive woman a warm smile. “That's me."

"I'm Janga Sarn. I represent Mischa."

"Pleased to meet you, Janga."

Janga Sarn did not return the smile. “I must warn you to desist from spreading these rumors about my employer, lest we be forced to take legal action against your organization and against you personally."

Phong's ass! Talk about all lasers blazing. “Oh, I'm sorry. I was only reiterating material that's freely available on the galactic net. Would you like to point out which rumors are untrue?"

"Don't play games with me. We know what you're doing."

"Janga, I'm not sure of your legal training, but here on Adana we have freedom of the press. I'll be happy to retract anything I've reported that is untrue, and do so unreservedly, but I'll need to speak to someone senior to you to convince me, since, as I said, I gained the material from IAC sanctioned sources, all of which are over a year old and there are no legal injunctions on any of these stories. So, which bits are untrue?"

The fury on Janga's face was evident. Obviously no one had ever back-chatted her before. Holly guessed the warrior could snap her in two, if she so decided, but she continued with her challenge undaunted. Mischa wouldn't sanction something so public as the uncouth assault of a journalist. It would be bad for her image.

Janga cocked her head as if listening to something, no doubt a communicator implant, and her expression changed from cold fury to resigned indignation. “Come with me."

Holly suppressed her grin of triumph and followed Janga to the turbo lift. Obviously Mischa had been watching her broadcast and decided the embarrassment was not worth the effort of keeping her away. A decision many came to when she turned her focus onto them.

She flicked a smile and a wink at the still anxious concierge. She kept up a one-sided conversation with Janga, asking questions about Mischa's secret arrival on Adana, what her intentions were whilst here and when she was leaving. Janga did not respond to any question, which didn't upset Holly in the slightest. She was desperately trying to plan the forthcoming interview.

Holly wasn't sure exactly what she wanted to achieve now that she had gained access to the notorious Mischa. There was no evidence that the rich socialite knew anything at all about Maxim's disappearance, just the hint from Silas's friend in the navy that her ships were in the proximity of the attack on the Euripides. But Holly had to start somewhere.

The whole penthouse floor had been appropriated by Mischa's entourage. Burly half naked guards, their oiled skin glistening, stood outside every door. The one with two guards Holly guessed belonged to Mischa herself. Holly allowed herself to be searched by a grumpy looking Mendovian. He was none too subtle and had no reluctance to squeeze her breasts and slam his fingers hard against her sex when he slid his hands up and down her inner thigh.

"Satisfied?” she said to Janga.

"Whilst in the presence of Mischa you will be silent until spoken to. You will be respectful. The first hint of disrespect and I will remove you from her presence."

Holly gave her an icy smile.

Janga reached for her smartcam. Holly jerked it away from her grasp. “Not on your life, sweet-pea."

"Recording devices are not permitted."

"I'm a reporter, Janga, recording devices come with the territory. What are you so afraid of?"

Janga's expression promised certain violence but changed suddenly to one of icy politeness. She obviously hadn't realized Holly was still broadcasting. Obviously Mischa didn't like the impression that was being created and had given her another direction. “Come with me."

The door slid open and Janga led her into the sumptuous living area of the penthouse suite. The large windows opened up onto the docking stations with the constantly moving flotilla of large and small ships arriving and departing the busy spaceport. Ice comets which supplied Adana with fresh water lay off to one side in their matching orbit, their irregular globes shining like diamonds in the sunlight. Beside them lay the water purification plant and the scavenger ships of the Amalgamated Spaceport Guild of Scavengers. Her gaze quickly found the Pride, Felis's ship, and Holly pushed down her anger. Maxim's ship, the Vesper, should be there also, moored next it.

"Wait here,” Janga said and left by a side door.

[Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter Five

Murukan of the six faces had watched Janga's discomfiture with wry amusement. At last the arrogant bitch had met her match. The feisty reporter, Holly Barberossa, was holding her own with her pretty jaw set firmly and her blue eyes blazing with defiance. Murukan's manhood stirred inside his robe and he adjusted his stance beside the bed to accommodate it.

"For Phong's sake, Janga,” Mischa swore into the communicator. “Send her up."

Mischa glanced at him, her hungry eyes settling on the tent in his robe, imagining, no doubt, the erect cock beneath. “She attracts you, my Muru?"

"She is beautiful, mistress."

"Yes, yes she is.” She motioned for him to approach her. Reaching into the robe, she extracted his cock and held it before her eyes, examining it as if she were appraising a rare jewel.

Murukan closed his eyes at her touch. She handled him so well, firm but gently, the heat of her fingers rushing along the shaft to his balls which he'd emptied into her hot juicy cunt just a few minutes before. “I can't get enough of you, Murukan,” she sighed.

"Or me you, mistress."

"So you prove, several times a day.” She stroked the shaft with her thumb and forefinger, extracting a drop of come which she deftly transferred to her fingertip and took to her full lips. “Do you ever tire of me, my Muru?"

"Never, mistress. You are the center of my universe."

"I bet you say that to all the girls."

"There are none but you."

"Then fuck me again."

"With pleasure, mistress.” Murukan wondered why she enjoyed this little game. How could there be anyone else? He was her slave and she his mistress. He shared her bedroom, her bed, and was present at all her meetings. He was never out of her presence. He slept with her and even bathed with her.

In the short months he had been her slave he had come to love her as he was certain he had never loved another. She had rescued him from death, given him a new life to replace the one that had been wiped from his mind by the accident. She'd told him she had watched him being plucked from the wreckage of a spacecraft, his body twisted and bloody.

"Minced meat,” she had described his state. “But there was something about you I liked.” Weeks of extreme medical intervention had followed, his burned face replaced with first one mask, then another and another until it had taken. “Luckily, the one that held was the most handsome,” she'd told him.

He was in no position to judge whether or not he was handsome and since he had no memory of his former appearance, getting used to his new countenance was a straightforward process. It was a face, as simple as that; two dark brown eyes grown in a vat from his own DNA, a narrow nose from his own cartilage, lips that were neither thick nor thin but curved in what she described as a very sensual manner, though he thought they were a little cruel. The chin was square, the jaw line clear and straight. To him, it was just a face, and it would serve as good as any other.

Mischa liked it, that's all that mattered. He loved her with every cell in his body and he believed she loved him in return. She said she did, and said it often. “Above all the men I have ever known,” she once told him, and he believed her.

To be loved by such a woman made him proud. It seemed to him that Mischa was the epitome of a sexual being. Despite her perfectly oval face which gave the impression she was innocent and naïve, she was experienced in love. That disarmingly angelic face had, according to the rumors, led many a man to his doom. Her body was supremely athletic. Her translucent satiny flesh covered muscles as hard as iron. She bore the scars of her brutalized past on her back and she kept them as reminders of where she'd come from. She was a hard woman. He'd seen her condemn men to death with hardly a flicker of emotion, but she had a softer nature than many would believe, a place that she let only him see and touch. She trusted him, and he loved her for that most of all.

Mischa's full, sensuous lips were hungry and her kisses strong and demanding. Her tongue snaked into his mouth and wrestled with his own. She liked her sex hard and he liked giving it to her that way.

Without warning he grabbed her, flipped her over onto her stomach and pulled her to her knees, slapping her taut ass with the flat of his hand. She moaned and her body quivered as he slapped her again, harder this time so the imprint of his palm showed red against the pale flesh.

Her exposed pussy lips protruded plump and full between her thighs. They glistened with her need for him. He slapped her there too, with a stinging blow that crackled through the bedroom.

Mischa flinched and squirmed, threatening to collapse on the bed in pleasure but with one arm across her belly supporting her, he slapped her again, and again, until her ass was a blazing crimson and her arousal dripped down her thighs. “Fuck me!” she rasped.

Murukan positioned himself behind her and touched the head of his swollen cock against her equally engorged pussy. “Fuck me,” he ordered.

She rocked back on her knees and the swollen head of his cock parted her lips and slid without effort into her. Mischa's pussy was tight, and wet, oh so wet, and he threw his head back at the sheer pleasure of it.

He slapped her ass. “Faster!” She complied; it was one of her favorite games.

The increasing frequency of her reverse thrusting, in time with his ruthless slaps, quickly brought her to a clenching orgasm. But he wasn't finished yet. After her pussy stopped its frenetic spasms around his shaft, he turned her over onto her back, hoisted her legs up and pushed them down to her face so that she peered up at him, her face flushed with passion, between her knees.

He stood at the edge of the bed and fed his cock into her, driving deep, and with one hand opened the cheeks of her ass, exposing her asshole, and slipped his thumb into the puckered ring. She came suddenly, screaming with pleasure, and then, as the spasms subsided she began a steady whimpering as he continued to drive into her.

With each thrust he drove his fingers deeper inside her ass. She was coming continuously now, her body shuddering with each powerful climax, the death of each giving birth to the next until she was a trembling quivering mass beneath him.

He couldn't last. The sweet tension at the end of his cock engulfed him and the orgasm wrenched the come out of his cock and the breath from his lungs. He released his grip on her ankles and pulled her legs around his waist. Though panting with exhaustion, he began to fuck her again.

Behind him, the bedroom door slid open. Guessing it was Janga, he kept moving between Mischa's thighs, making sure his thrusts were long and deep. Mischa's juices glistened on the shaft of his cock, and he knew that from where she stood Janga could see. He glanced up to smile at Janga gazing down at them, her face an expression of pure anger. “She's outside,” she announced through gritted teeth.

Mischa laughed. “Leave her alone for a few minutes. My man here hasn't finished what he started."

Janga gave him a scowl and left the bedroom by the second door, obviously not wishing to see the reporter again. Mischa flicked up the sound on the holo-vid beside the bed. Holly Barberossa was continuing her running commentary on Mischa's past. He had to hand it to her, she never let up.

"Janga should lighten up,” Mischa purred, the comment edged with ice.

He sensed Mischa's profound displeasure with Janga's lack of subtlety. Though he owed the bitch no favors, he thought slaves should stick together whenever possible. “She's always done a good job,” he replied, his lips tight against her throat.

Mischa adjusted her position beneath him. “Perhaps because things usually go her way."

"It rarely goes any other."

"Maybe she has met her match.” She reached over and flicked off the holo-screen. “Shut up and fuck me."

* * * *

Holly panned her smartcam out the wide windows. “As you can see, the view from the penthouse suite goes on forever. The flotilla to the left belongs to Mischa herself. She travels in the heavily armed yacht in the centre of the dozen support ships, all of which are fast and lethal fighter craft. Her entourage is rumored to be over a hundred personnel, and she travels with her own detachment of mercenaries..."

Holly continued her discourse of Mischa's reported lifestyle as she wandered about the sumptuous room. She guessed she was being kept waiting as part of a silly power play. Two could engage in that game, and as she repeated some of the juicier stories, she wondered how long before Janga or Mischa herself would appear to shut her up.

She had to wait longer than she thought and had almost exhausted her library tape knowledge of the socialite when the double doors were flung open by a muscular slave, naked to the waist and wearing a pair of brief gym shorts over his impressive thighs.

Holly gasped at his imposing figure and her heart thudded in her chest. There was something disturbingly familiar about him. He was as tall as Maxim and he walked with the same languid grace. Apart from that he looked nothing like him and she wondered if he was another Dollavera clone, one she didn't know about, who had somehow gone astray and ended up in Mischa's clutches. She studied his face as he entered and blushed when she realized he was meeting her gaze, the gleam of attraction shining in them. A wave of heat swept over her as she searched for some sign of recognition, but there was none.

Unconsciously her fingers went to the Forget-Me-Not pendant which released a waft of pure Maxim into her nostrils.

A moment later the most glamorous woman Holly had ever seen swept into the room. She was far more beautiful than her publicity shots, which was saying something.

Iridescent blonde hair framed an oval pixie-like face. Her jade eyes shone bright from the alabaster complexion. Mischa was wearing an exquisite evening gown, a transparent silken web from the Spider House on Gaskolin IX, and the most expensive pumps Holly had seen, Jess Boscolon creations she guessed.

The socialite glided silently to the u-shaped lounge and gracefully lowered herself into it. Relaxed and smiling, she motioned for Holly to join her and sit opposite. The slave put down two cups of steaming caffee on the table between them. Holly settled herself and smiled as sweetly as she could.

"Mischa,” she said, sizing her up and feeling daunted by the task ahead. “My name is Holly Barberossa, of the Adana Observer."

"Pleased to meet you, Holly. I've been a fan of your show for ages."

"Really?” she said, trying her best to suppress her sarcasm. “I wasn't aware my show was broadcast to the central systems."

"Oh yes indeed. You're very popular. You should come visit me some time on Penhalicyon."

Oh, she's good. She's very good. “I'd like that,” Holly said coolly. “Mischa, your secret visit to Adana has left people wondering your true purpose here."

Mischa's sensuous lips curled into an innocent smile. “If people are talking about me, it seems my so-called attempts at secrecy have failed miserably. Let me allay any fears you may have, Holly, and of course your viewers too. There was no intention to covertly come to Adana. The purpose of my visit is entirely cultural."

"In what way cultural?"

"I have been mentoring artists from remote worlds for the last decade or so and I have brought an exhibition to Adana."

Holly was taken aback. Artistic affiliations had not been in any of the pirate's bios. “You have certainly kept this a close secret,” Holly said disingenuously. “I don't believe anyone is aware of your interest in the arts.” She resisted the urge to say legitimate arts. She had no doubt Mischa had a vast collection of stolen artwork.

"Oh yes, collecting art has been a passion of mine for many years."

I bet it has.

"It struck me,” Mischa continued with a hint of contriteness, “that being a consumer of art is one thing, but how much better would it be to be a producer? Unfortunately I have no talent myself, so the next best thing is to foster it in the young."

"How commendable."

"It's my way of giving something back."

It's the least you can do.

"It's the least I can do."

Holly saw no reason not to explore this farce to the end. “And where will the exhibition take place?"

"The Amalgamated Spaceport Guild of Scavengers has been kind enough to lease one of their showrooms to me. We will be setting the exhibit up over the next week, and then I'd like to invite you, Holly, and as many of your viewers as possible to come to the opening and then browse the exhibition until its conclusion."

"And when will that be?"

Mischa smiled. “It's open ended at this stage. I predict the show will be a great hit."

There was something ominous about the way she said that but Holly could see no obvious opening and floundered for another question. “You're a trader of some renown,” she began. “What do you think of the recent pirate attacks on passenger vessels?"

Mischa's expression morphed into one of dismay. “I deplore it, of course. I only hope that the navy can put an end to it as soon as possible. In fact, my vessels were involved in a pirate attack only recently."

You bitch! “Really?"

Mischa's eyes were cold and emotionless. “The one involving the poor Euripides. Surely you heard about it. Sadly we arrived too late to prevent the attack, but assisted the Scavenger Guild in rendering aid to the stricken vessel. It is how I made contact with the Guild in the first instance and commenced negotiations to lease the showroom I mentioned."

Holly's flesh had turned cold and blood thudded in her ears. Her gut had become a deep cold well of hatred. You fucking bitch. “You assisted the Guild?"

"Yes, unfortunately one of their brave members was killed by the pirates. My ships pursued them of course, but lost the scoundrels in sub-space."

I'll fucking kill you. Her anger was only suppressed by the inevitable questions. Felis had said ships had arrived too late to help, but he hadn't been able to name them or identify who they'd belong to. The military's account, only released following Holly's loud demands, wasn't able to name them either. Why had the fact that Mischa herself was at the scene been absent from the reports?

"Holly, are you all right?"

The question jolted her back into reality. Mischa's mock concern infuriated her. It was all she could do to control her anger and urge to strike out at the bitch. Her fists had unconsciously balled and her murderous thoughts were interrupted by the slave who picked up her untouched caffee. Holly's gaze was drawn to him. He was gazing at her with a concerned empathetic expression on his face. “Yes, I am,” she stuttered. “Thank you."

"Would you prefer something else, miss?” the slave asked.

His voice resonated in her ear. It was powerful and commanding. It was not the voice of a slave, nor was it quite Maxim's. Now so close, she studied his strikingly handsome face and searched for any feature that she recognized. “No, no thank you."

"Are you sure?” Mischa asked. “You look unwell."

Suddenly she felt she had to escape this room. “Thank you for your time, Mischa. I best leave you to your, your..."

Mischa glanced at her slave then returned her gaze to Holly, a condescending smile on her lips. “Please come back to speak with me, Holly. I'd like that very much. I want you to tell everyone on Adana about my exhibition!"

The slave showed her to the door. Holly was keenly aware of his nearness, his heat, his ... of all things, his scent. He touched her elbow. “I hope to see you again,” he whispered into her ear and before she had a chance to respond the door slid shut.

[Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter Six

"She's got him!” Holly exclaimed.

"How do you know?” Silas said as he sipped his caffee.

She was about to blurt out that Mischa's body slave was Maxim, but she hardly believed it herself. “I can tell,” she said instead. “She was lying through her teeth. She kidnapped Maxim."

"I saw your broadcast. I didn't get that impression."

"Don't tell me you believed her! What sort of detective are you?"

"The cautious kind. I don't believe in antagonizing people, especially rich, powerful and violent people."

"Well, did you believe her?"

"Not at all, but what bits are true and what's not, I don't know."

Holly got up abruptly.

"Where are you going?"

"The fucking Dollavera brothers are up to their fucking cloned eyebrows in this. I should've fucking known."

"Calm down,” he said, grasping her by the wrist. “What do you mean?"

She wrenched her arm free. “Don't you ever touch me again."

He backed away and held up his hands. “Hey, I'm one of the good guys, remember?"

She glared at him silently.

"Sorry,” he mumbled eventually. “Listen, are you okay?"

She took a deep breath to collect herself. “Forgive me. I'm just riled up by that bitch and the thought that K Dollavera and Zweep know more than they've been telling me."

"You honestly think they took part in Maxim's kidnapping? Why would they do that to their brother?"

"What other explanation is there?"

"Explanation of what?"

"Why they didn't mention Mischa's involvement in the Euripides. I bet they're tied up in some piracy themselves. Maxim got wind of it and they took him so he wouldn't stop them."

"Doesn't sound like Zweep at all. They trade with pirates, or at least their agents, but almost everyone does, that's how they survive, it's how the galaxy economy works, but actively take part in piracy? I doubt it."

"I don't. Zweep and K are slime. They'd do anything for a half credit."

"Even sell their brother into slavery? Come on. Isn't Zweep head of the Chamber of Commerce now? Isn't he standing for election on the Council itself? The last thing he'd want is..."

"Being revealed to be a pirate! Exactly my point."

He frowned at her in annoyance. “What I meant was, a man with political ambitions which Zweep has, by all accounts, held for such a long time, would not get mixed up with pirates in the first place. I think you're clutching at straws."

She shot him a baleful glare. “You believe Maxim is dead, don't you?"

"I haven't seen any evidence to the contrary. I'm sorry, Holly, I won't lie to you, but I might as well tell you what I really think."

"I don't care what you really think."

"I think you do, or at least you should. Listen, sit down for a second and hear me out."

She sat down heavily. “Well? Get on with it!"

"I think you should leave Adana."

"What?"

"I think your life is in danger. I think whoever was supporting Riz Gitto had Maxim killed. You're the other prime witness of the case, and so are some of Maxim's family, Maxim's sister in law, for instance, and the little girl."

Holly's heart stopped for a moment. Peridae and Lila in danger? He's right. I have to do something.

"Listen, I just think it would be a good idea if you made you and your friends scarce until the trial is over."

She took a deep breath to clear her panicked thoughts. “You think Mischa is the one financing Gitto's plot?"

"Why not? It makes more sense than Zweep organizing a killing ... I mean kidnapping to shut Maxim up. Gitto's friends have a much stronger motivation."

Holly was silent, staring into his eyes.

"What do you think?"

She stood up slowly. “I think as detectives go, you are incredibly stupid.” She left him sitting with his jaw hanging open and a stupefied expression on his face.

As she stormed her way down the corridors to Zweep's office, she considered that maybe Silas wasn't so stupid after all. Her wrist still burned where he had touched her. She tried to push the aroused thoughts away but failed. She rubbed the pendant and with Maxim's scent flooding her system she calmed herself and thought about what he'd said. She was hardly objective and Silas was. Maybe that's what she needed, some cautious objectivity.

She stopped in her tracks and considered turning back and apologizing, but decided she wouldn't give him the benefit. First she had to find out what Zweep and K Dollavera knew about their brother's disappearance. Then she had to make sure Lila and Peridae left Adana for their own safety.

But before any of that she needed a caffee. She had to reorganize her thoughts and prepare what she was going to say to Zweep. And after a caffee, she thought, she'd have a second, figuring her thoughts needed quite a bit of reorganizing.

* * * *

With firm broad strokes Murukan spread aromatic Loreanian oil across Mischa's firm shoulders. The scars she'd received in her slave days had turned a livid red, a sure sign she was perturbed about Holly Barberossa.

Mischa had cursed the beautiful reporter seven ways to hell after the door had closed. Murukan's growing hatred for Barberossa, threat that she was to his mistress, was tempered by great respect. By pricking Mischa's veneer of respectability Holly Barberossa had played a not so subtle and very dangerous game. Not that Mischa cared what people thought of her, it was just bad for business, and the business they were currently engaged in was a matter of life and death.

Barberossa's reaction when the Euripides was mentioned and her hurried departure had startled him. He wondered what it could mean. Had she intended to leave Mischa unsettled and uncertain about what she knew? If that was her aim she had certainly succeeded. Mischa was beside herself, a state he had never seen before.

"She's a threat,” Mischa groaned as his fingers found a hot spot.

"What purpose could she have?” Murukan said doubtfully. “She's a reporter just fumbling around looking for a story."

Janga was massaging Mischa's feet, rubbing the soles vigorously. “Shall I terminate her?"

Mischa's only response was to mumble, “Barberossa knows, somehow she knows."

Murukan located a knot and kneaded it with deep pressure. “If she does know something, we should discover her sources before Janga kills her."

"Fancy the bitch, do you, slave?” Janga said derisively.

"Unlike you, slave,” he retorted, “I think things through. Perhaps she should be kept alive till the last moment, that way whoever is controlling her won't be alerted."

Mischa rolled over and gazed up at him. “That is wise counsel, my Murukan. How would you suggest we do that and keep her silent at the same time?"

His superior reasoning had deserted him. “That would be difficult."

"She needs a distraction,” Mischa said pointedly.

"I don't understand."

Mischa reached into his robe and grasped the shaft of his cock. “Oh, I think you do."

She urged him up onto the bed and between her open legs. Her pussy was, as always, glistening wet. She was perpetually horny, the result, she'd told him, of her days as a sex slave. Her master had all his slaves genetically altered to ensure they would always be receptive to him. It was an attribute she hadn't appreciated till she was free, and recommended it to every woman she met as the means to achieving sexual nirvana.

Her pink lips were open and inside the moisture had gathered, welcoming him. Murukan held himself poised above her as she fed the head of his cock into her body.

Taking control, he hoisted her by the ankles, lifting her butt off the bed, and drove deep, sinking the entire length of his shaft into her willing sex. The walls of her cunt closed hungrily around him, forming a tight sheath into which he repeatedly plunged. As he fucked her he stared into those deep jade eyes that gazed adoringly up at him.

She loves me. The thought drove him on to more furious thrusting, wanting to give her the same pleasure as her loving gaze deserved.

Her full breasts jiggled delightfully as her body absorbed each thrust and she grunted in appreciation. Not to be left out of the action, Janga suckled on one breast, drawing the erect nipple between her teeth and biting it. Mischa liked her pain, another consequence of her slave days. Mischa closed her eyes in ecstasy. The sight aroused him even more, and he intensified his fucking, grunting with effort at each mighty thrust.

Mischa moaned deep as her first orgasm claimed her. He felt the muscles of her thighs tense and in her excitement she returned his thrusts, pushing her butt against his balls. Then the climax overtook her and she shuddered and surrendered herself to him.

Murukan smacked Janga's ass for good measure and the amazon moaned as well. It was the first time he had touched the bitch's body and the thrill of inflicting her pain, however slight, spurred him on and he slapped her again and drove into his love's body all the deeper.

Janga claimed Mischa's mouth in a deep kiss as Murukan's pile driver thrusts rocked his mistress, pushing her deep into the mattress. As he fucked her, Murukan felt he was caught somehow within a dilemma and icy tendrils of guilt were playing at his chest. He loved Mischa and anything that threatened her was to be removed and removed swiftly. But there was something about Holly Barberossa that he found incredibly attractive. He would enjoy being close to her and this betrayal of Mischa, even if only in his thoughts, disturbed him.

Mischa's next orgasm brought Murukan back to the present. The walls of her pussy clutched at his shaft like a hungry animal and pushed him over the edge into that mindless state of pure ecstasy. He sank deeply into her as his cock erupted and flooded her with his hot come. He collapsed onto her and she clung to him as her insatiable sex milked his cock dry.

He rolled away and got off the bed. His position between Mischa's thighs was quickly filled by Janga. The randy slave put her mouth to Mischa's pussy, sucking his seed from her body while Mischa indulged herself by pulling Janga around so she straddled her and she could lick her slave's pussy. Murukan knew from experience that the two would be occupied with each for the next twenty minutes. He went to the bathroom, showered and dried himself, then ordered a meal for three from the kitchen.

On his return with the food he found the two beautiful women lying languidly in each other's arms.

"One day, my dear,” he heard Mischa whisper into Janga's ear, “I'll let Murukan come into your mouth, and you can share his sweet come with me."

He suppressed his laughter. He knew Janga would rather die than let him fill her mouth. She hated sucking his come out of Mischa's pussy; to get it direct would be the last straw.

"Murukan,” Mischa said, shifting her gaze to him. “I want you to cultivate a close friendship with our little reporter."

"And if she does not wish it?"

"Oh, she will, I think. I saw the way she looked at you. You'll be a plough between her thighs before you know it."

"It would be better to kill her before she becomes a problem,” Janga said. “I wouldn't trust his ability to keep her off the scent."

Mischa laughed. “Ordinarily I would agree. But Holly Barberossa is a special case. She has a great following here in Adana. She is the people's little heroine, their savor, their pin-up girl. To be linked to her death before the right moment will destroy our plans. The little knix saved herself by coming to confront me. Her death now would point directly to me, and I don't want that, not yet."

Murukan took a sip of wine and, satisfied it was safe, handed the cup to Mischa. “May I suggest we keep our enemy close,” he said. “I'll take her information on the exhibit, get her involved with us."

"Excellent idea. What do you think, Janga?"

"I think she will destroy us."

"Pessimism is an ugly trait, my dear."

"So is death."

* * * *

"Why are you following me?"

"To make sure you don't get yourself in any deeper trouble."

"I don't need protection."

Silas laughed. “Wanna bet?"

Holly turned away. “Leave me alone."

"Wait!” He grasped her by the wrist and swung her around. Before she knew it he had her in his arms and was kissing her, his lips firm and hard against her mouth, his tongue forcing its way inside...

Holly felt herself falling against his hard chest, the warmth of his body enveloping her. She groaned into his mouth. His strong protective arms wound tightly about her. She opened her lips, worked them against his...

No! She pushed him away and slapped his face. “Don't you ever touch me again."

He gazed at her, his eyes unblinking. “You want me,” he said simply. “Don't deny it. You kissed me back."

"Don't flatter yourself."

He opened his mouth, closed it again and then, in a measured voice said, “We can stand here bickering like school children or we can help each other. It would be better if we were on the same page."

"And what page is that?"

"That we want each other. We'll work more smoothly together if we both admitted it and..."

"And?"

"Do what comes naturally."

She laughed. “You need to seek professional advice about that growth on your ego. It's the size of an asteroid."

He studied her for a moment, his eyes awash with emotion. She could bear them no longer and glanced away. “Then at least let me keep you alive. There's something going on here that I don't like. You should really leave, but since you won't, I'll have to be your bodyguard."

"Don't be ridiculous."

Silas grasped her wrist again. She wrenched it back.

"Holly!” The booming voice startled them both. It was Mischa's slave. “Is this ... thing bothering you?"

With his hands balled into fists, Silas released her and turned to face the intruder. The slave was dressed in simple pantaloons and a loose fitting shirt belted at the waist which fell open to reveal a broad muscular chest.

"Um, no, it's all right,” she said. “Really. There's no reason for concern."

"This is none of your business, slave,” Silas spat, his voice full of venom.

Holly predicted violence and quickly stepped between them. “Listen, everything is okay. Now both of you leave me alone."

The slave glanced to her. “I was looking for you, Holly Barberossa."

Silas stepped between them. “What could you want with her?"

"None of your concern, thing.” He returned his gaze to Holly. “May I speak with you in private?"

"Well, I guess. Follow me. I'm heading for the Scavengers’ Guild office."

"What a coincidence. So am I."

"Holly, you can't be serious."

"Grow up, Silas. Go do some detecting or something."

"You're making a mistake,” he warned.

"A friend of yours?” the slave asked when they had rounded a corner.

"Sort of. I'm afraid I don't know your name."

"Murukan."

I need to think. I have to get away. Holly's head was awash with conflicting emotions. Lust had swept over her. Murukan's scent was intoxicating, just as Maxim's was ... “Well, thank you, Murukan. Now Silas is gone so you don't have to keep up the pretence of following me. I'll be fine."

"Oh, no, you misunderstand. I really am going to the ASGS office."

"Oh, who are you seeing?"

"Zweep Dollavera. I need to make some final arrangements for the exhibition."

"I see,” she said coldly.

"You are going to see Zweep as well?"

"Yes, but I don't have an appointment."

"Then permit me to allow you to go first."

"You're too kind."

"It would be my pleasure. Besides, I don't get a lot of time to myself, as you can imagine, so time spent in your presence will be a gift."

"You flatter me."

"Not inappropriately, I hope. It is the truth. I felt it when we met in Mischa's apartment. You are a beautiful woman."

He was leaning close, his breath hot upon her cheek. Holly felt her face flush and her nipples harden as a pulse of desire scuttled through her pussy just like it did whenever Maxim was near. His scent ... He must be Maxim! “Flattery will get you nowhere,” she managed.

"Forgive me."

"Changing the subject,” she said, trying to clear her mind of lusty thoughts. “What exactly is the exhibition? What is its theme?"

"Memories."

"I don't understand."

"It is a unique form of art."

The more she listened to his voice, the firm cadence, the tone, the less she wanted to hear. “The artist, Gahavian Saltz, is from the outer rim world of Jackal, a hellish place. Have you ever seen it?"

"I haven't even heard of it."

"Fire and ice. It's a big planet, almost two standard gravities at the surface. It keeps the same hemisphere toward its sun, so boiling rocks on one side and ice shelves on the other. Daily it is racked with planetary wide quakes and the atmosphere is in constant turmoil."

"Sounds charming. Why do people live there?"

"The duridium mines produce the purest ore in the galaxy. It's used in quantum drive fuel cells, so it is quite valuable. The inhabitants are some of the richest in the galaxy."

Duridium again. “I see.” No wonder Mischa had an interest there. There was money floating about. “And Saltz. Is he rich?"

"Oh no. He's from a worker family, his father an ex-slave I believe. He showed promise as an artist but could not continue as he had to work. Mischa took him from the mines and has sponsored him for the last two years."

"You admire your mistress, don't you?” The reflexive smile told her that he did.

"She saved my life. I owe her everything."

I'll remember that. “You said the exhibition concerns memories. How does he do that? What medium does he use?"

"Ah, this is what makes him unique. He uses cadaveries."

"What are they?"

"Living bodies."

"Now you have me confused. A cadaver is a dead body."

"On Jackal they have abused the language horrifically. These are animated bodies, alive but with no intelligence, and on Jackal they call them cadaveries. A play on words, I believe, that caught on."

"I still don't understand."

"An unfortunate side effect of duridium mining is that the radiation produced by the ore, together with the chemical properties of the surrounding rock, destroys brain function till the miners are just empty husks."

"But that's horrific!"

"They are barbarous people, I must admit."

"But what does Saltz do with these empty bodies?"

"He is a performance artist, and creates fabulously elaborate reproductions of everyday life on Jackal."

"It can't be legal, surely."

"He buys the cadaveries from their owners."

"They are slaves?"

"Oh yes. Couldn't do this with free citizens."

"That doesn't make it any less horrific."

"I do have a lot of sympathy for them, believe me."

"At least you have some human feelings."

"More than simple empathy,” he said. “You see, I was in an accident. I was disfigured and the trauma took away my memory. Mischa rescued me, rebuilt me and gave me a life I enjoy, but I had nothing to return."

With her heart thudding in her chest Holly took his arm and drew him close so she could look into his eyes and breathe in his scent. Lust enveloped her like a familiar blanket. “Do you have any memories at all?"

"None whatsoever. Mischa tells me I was found in a spacecraft wreck."

Holly couldn't help but glance at his left hand. The thumb was intact, but he did say Mischa had rebuilt him. “How long have you been with her?"

"Months."

"This can't be right,” she muttered and again suppressed the overwhelming conviction that this was Maxim. It was too good to be true, and in her experience, anything like that was too good. Though he was the right height, build and he carried himself in a similar way to Maxim, there was one problem. Surely I'd be able to tell without a doubt this was Maxim? “So your personality was retained, just not your memories."

"I suppose that is true."

Maybe Silas's caution was rubbing off. She decided once again to change the subject and give herself time to think. “Do the cadaveries retain their personalities?"

"I'm afraid not. They are empty husks."

"How terrible."

"It is. The illness has a sudden onset. One moment they are walking talking human beings, the next instant they fall to the ground, puppets without strings."

Holly tried to visualize the horror of it. “How does he reanimate them?"

"He has devised a collar that transmits a simple program directly into their cerebellum, the part of the brain that controls their balance and movement. This allows him to make them move and act, though very slowly, like the people they once were."

"It sounds grotesque."

"It is,” he agreed. “But they are, as Saltz says, for all intents and purposes already dead, and so deserve no special treatment."

"How would you like to become a puppet?"

"If I was aware, I'd hate it. I am very lucky Mischa gave me a life,” he said.

"Otherwise you could have ended up as a cadaverie?"

"Worse. I could have died."

"I'm not sure if there is much difference,” Holly said. “Come on. I want to see Zweep."

[Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter Seven

Silas stepped past Kasamee's taciturn bodyguard and made his way to the drinks cabinet. He was too furious to worry about etiquette.

"Make mine dry,” the judge said from the bed.

He gave her a quick glance, noted she was in a sheer negligee which hid absolutely nothing of her spectacular body. He tried to ignore his beast of a cock which had hardened in his pants and was demanding immediate release. He downed his drink, a Mendovian gis, and made another and then made hers. He carried it over to the bed and gave it to her.

She patted the bed. “You know, Silas, as bodyguards go, you would have to be the most inept one I've ever encountered. The idea is to be close to the one you are protecting, not let her go off with the enemy."

He bit back his response and downed his drink. The alcohol burned his throat and ate into his stomach. He was glad of it. He needed the pain to distract him.

She sipped her drink. “You do mix a good gis though.” She trailed a long fingernail along his jaw line to the corner of his mouth. “Poor Silas, rejection is never easy to take."

He drew her finger between his lips and bit it. She laughed and rolled away. The ever present and ever silent bodyguard took her glass from her and placed it on the drinks cabinet. “Does he have to be here?"

She laughed again and her amusement infuriated him. He wanted to fuck her, empty his anger out into her more than willing body. “Wait outside,” she ordered.

The guard nodded morosely and left the room.

Silas tossed his empty glass onto the floor in disgust.

"Don't be so hard on yourself,” she mocked. “It's all working out the way I intended."

He shot her a hard glance. “What do you mean?"

She started unbuttoning his shirt, her hot breath stirring his lust. “I wanted to draw them out and I have."

"Congratulations. I should be with her, not answering your summons like a paid lackey."

"Sssh,” she soothed. “Relax, take a deep breath. There, isn't that better?"

"No, it's fucking not!"

She threw her head back as she laughed. “Holly certainly is a firebrand, isn't she? She probably saved her own life by attacking Mischa so directly. The pirate wouldn't be stupid enough to hit her now. So, Mischa has done the obvious, keeping her enemy close by sending her very good looking slave to seduce the troublesome reporter."

Silas grasped her by the wrist. She winced in surprise. “If she's hurt I'll..."

"You'll what?” She mocked with a laugh. “Settle down. Don't fret. While Murukan is fucking her, she's as safe as a Bendragon Tic."

She disengaged her wrist and continued unbuttoning his shirt and then her deft fingers unzipped his pants. His cock sprang free. “Trust me, she's not for you. She's obsessed with her Maxim and no one stands a chance while that's the case. Not even Murukan, despite his physical attributes."

"I don't want her hurt."

"Of course not.” She stroked his throbbing cock. “Neither do I, believe me. She's my prime witness after all."

He stayed her hand. “Then get her out of Adana."

She stroked harder. “Not yet. I need evidence against Mischa. Otherwise the real conspirators will get away."

"Why wait? You already know it's Mischa."

"For all her power and glamour, Mischa is the instrument of bigger fish. By setting Murukan onto Holly, Mischa is neutralizing the threat while they set whatever plans her bosses have in mind."

Kasamee pushed him back onto the bed, removed his shoes, tossed them to the floor and pulled away his pants. “You really have a nice cock, you know?"

She lowered her head to lick around the head and he groaned, pushing her down onto his cock. She gagged and when he released her she held position with him deeply embedded in her throat. So, she likes it rough.

She finally withdrew, her eyes glistening with tears. “Fuck me,” she ordered huskily.

"What do you intend to do with Holly?"

She tilted her head coquettishly. “Fuck me good and maybe I'll tell you."

"You fucking bitch, I'll fuck you all right!” He grabbed her shoulders and twisted her onto her back. She squealed in mock alarm and he half expected the bodyguard to rush in. But the nameless shadow remained outside. She laughed at Silas and made to shut her legs but he pushed them apart and without ceremony drove his cock into her wide open pussy.

She grunted at the suddenness of the intrusion but adjusted her hips on his second stroke to accommodate him. “Harder!” She stared up at him, goading him. “Harder, you prick!"

He growled and, after one more thrust which slapped his balls against her flesh, he gripped her cruelly by the hips and flung her away from him. She rolled away and he followed her. Getting off the bed and picking her up, he pushed her back against the wall. She flung her legs about his hips and clung about his neck with her arms. He drove into her, balancing her on his hips and against the wall. The sound of their flesh slapping together, the thumps against the wall, her grunts and his growls spurred him on to fuck her deep and hard.

Yet still she cried for him to fuck her harder and deeper. She came suddenly, her body tensing against his then when the spring broke she wrapped herself around him, her cunt walls squeezing his cock.

"No, you don't, you bitch.” Holding her steady against the wall with the weight of his body, he reached between them and, scooping her copious juices leaking from her cunt, smeared her puckered asshole. “You want it deep, do you?"

"Oh yes, yes, yes, yes!” Meeting only token resistance from her sphincter, he thrust a finger into her ass in time with the thrusts of his cock. She squealed as he pushed in another finger and then a third. With a single fluid motion he withdrew his fingers and replaced them with his cock, driving deep into her asshole.

She came again and then again as his ruthless thrusting took him deep into her core. She was hanging onto his shoulders helpless against his anger and her own orgasm that sapped her energy and breath. Finally the spasm of her pussy translated to her ass and he came, shooting gluts of come deep inside her.

He stepped away from the wall, she clinging to him still, and they toppled onto the bed. “Water,” she whispered huskily.

The last thing Silas felt like doing was withdrawing his cock from her tight hot ass and going to the bar and getting a glass of water.

A moment later a hand and glass of water appeared.

The fucking guard had been inside the room all the time.

"Fuck my ass again,” Kasamee said after she drank and handed the empty glass back. “Then I'll tell you how this is going to pan out."

His cock stirred and he gripped her hips. To hell with the guard!

* * * *

"Calm down, Holly, for Phong's sake!"

"Tell me you don't know where Maxim is."

Zweep Dollavera took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I don't know where Maxim is."

"So he's still alive."

"What?"

His surprise infuriated her. “You know he's alive. Otherwise you would have replied that he's dead, not that you don't know where he is."

"Oh, Holly, listen to yourself, will you? You're hysterical. Clutching at straws like a mad woman. It's been months. I know you loved him, but let him go, please, let him rest, for all our sakes."

"I will when you give me proof he's dead."

"Do we have to go through this again? Felis found his ship. You saw it when we brought it in. It was fused solid. We stripped the bits centimeter by centimeter and all we found was his thumb. The rest of him is dissolved into the metal. He's gone, Holly. He's dead."

"What's your connection to Mischa? Why didn't you tell me she was at the scene? She's a pirate, damn it! It was her ships that attacked Maxim!"

"That's not true. They turned up after the event. They arrived at the same time the navy did, just as Felis returned to Maxim's ship. They were putting it in tow."

"In tow?"

"To bring it back here, they said. Felis took it off them. They were obliging. They were trying to do the right thing."

"I bet. Don't you see, that's when they snatched Maxim!"

"Don't be ridiculous. Why would they do that?"

"Because...” She stopped short. She had no idea why.

"Holly. I have to see this Murukan joker about leasing the showroom."

"When was this lease thing arranged?"

"One of their guys followed Felis back to Adana. He met me, said that Mischa had a traveling art exhibition and there were delays at their next planet so could we accommodate them for a month."

"A month?"

"That's what he said. Now, I have to get back to work. Holly, please do me and the rest of the family a favor. Go and get some grief counseling or something. You're hurting everyone else who loved Maxim with this silliness. They need to move on. Let them, let us get on with it."

He turned his back on her and she wanted to scream at him. She wanted to hit him. She wanted to ... Was she being unreasonable? Whenever she felt like this, she knew that she was. She just couldn't help it. Deep in her soul she knew Maxim was alive. She was so obsessed with the idea, she was hurting the ones she and Maxim loved. “Zweep. Get Peridae and Lila off Adana. Silas thinks they are at risk, with the trial and all. He thinks Maxim was...” she hesitated, unable to say the word killed, “attacked to stop him being a witness in the trial and that the rest of us are in danger too."

"I don't know who the fuck Silas is, but that occurred to me already. I sent them away two days ago."

She opened her mouth but no words came. Two days? Why wait so long if he had suspected this? Maxim had been missing months. She was about to challenge him when she realized that the simple explanation was that he didn't trust Mischa either. Mischa arrived two days ago. He'd spirited the girls away at the same time the pirate bitch came to Adana.

"Well,” she said at last. “That's a load off my mind."

"We look after our own,” he said cruelly. “Look to yourself, Holly. You need help."

She gritted her teeth at the insult. “Not as much help as whoever has Maxim. When I find them, I'm going to rip their hearts out."

"Good luck,” he said sarcastically and closed the door in her face.

"I trust your meeting went well?” Murukan asked without irony as she left the office.

"As well as could be expected, I guess. Zweep's waiting to see you."

"I will be setting up the exhibits with the artist. Perhaps you would like to do a story before the grand opening."

"Perhaps I will,” she said. It would be one way of keeping the lines of communication with Mischa open. “We'll see."

He grasped her hand and turning it slightly as he bowed, he kissed the soft flesh of her wrist. “I hope so."

A wave of arousal swept over her as if she were in Maxim's strong arms. Her body warmed with a suffusive glow of desire. She found she was looking deeply into Murukan's deep brown eyes.

She waved him away and set off down the corridor. She rounded the first corner when two sets of strong arms lifted her off the ground and carried her into a darkened access corridor. A big meaty hand clasped over her mouth prevented her from speaking. She resisted the urge to bite it, thinking that whoever had her wouldn't be too pleased.

"Listen to me,” the gruff voice in her ear hissed. “We are being attacked. Our boys are being butchered. That bitch Mischa wants to take us over."

She guessed these guys were representatives of the crime gangs who she had set her contacts chasing. Obviously, word had leaked out she was on their tail.

"Stop pointing the finger at us. If we're not careful, that bitch will take over and she's worse than us, I assure you. Understand?"

She nodded her head and the hand relaxed.

"We overheard you and her slave talking. That was crap what he told you. Mischa was responsible for the massacre on Jackal. The miners revolted and her guys butchered them. I was there. I saw it. Scared the shit out of me. So remember, we're pussycats compared to her. If you cause us any more heat, we'll follow Mischa's example. Stay here. Do not follow us out. If you move inside ten minutes we'll shoot you where you stand. Got it?"

She nodded, and the hand on her mouth disappeared and the footsteps receded into the darkness. “I need a beer,” she whispered to herself. Ten minutes later she was heading for the Haze Bar & Grill. A beer and a plate of ribs would go down just fine.

[Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter Eight

"You called?"

"I want to apologize."

Silas sat down opposite her. “What for? I was the one out of line."

"Whatever. I apologize and that's that. I had a visit from one of the gangs. Got roughed up a bit."

"Phong's cunt! Which one?"

"They didn't say. Probably representatives of all three. I'm having a voice analyzed now by one of my ‘Port Security contacts."

He shook his head but he wore a wry smile of admiration. “You recorded him while he roughed you up?"

She shrugged. “I'm a reporter."

He rolled his eyes in exasperation. “What did he say?"

"Said Mischa is making a move on Adana's organized crime. She's been killing their boys. They sounded shit scared to me."

"I'd be too. She does have a reputation."

"What do you know of Jackal?"

"The duridium mine?"

She nodded and drank her beer.

"That looks good,” he said and waved down an arthropod waitress. “I'll have a beer and plate of ribs."

"Sauce?"

He glanced at Holly's plate. “Whatever she's having."

"What were you saying?” he asked when his eyes settled back onto hers.

"I asked you about Jackal."

"Oh yeah. Rich planet, slave economy. Hell of a place, literally."

"There was a slave uprising?"

"Oh yeah. Ruthlessly suppressed from what I hear. Why?"

"My gangster friends said Mischa is tied up with it somehow. It was her thugs who suppressed it and massacred the slaves."

"Doesn't surprise me. She's a bitch."

"Apparently the artist Mischa is showcasing is from Jackal. He makes living statues from the empty husks of brain dead miners."

"You're pulling my testicle."

"I wish I was. I really do."

"I might hold you to that one day."

She realized what she had said and burst out laughing. “It wasn't an invitation. I'm not ready for anything like that.” She shot him a significant glance. “I may never be again."

"I'm a patient man. I'll wait."

She was going to tell him not to bother but his ribs and beer arrived. “These look good,” he said, pouring some Altaran sauce over them. “So, what's your next step?"

"Muru ... Mischa's slave is setting up the exhibit. I'm going to do a story on the artist."

"Where will that get you?"

"Don't you see? They're doing it to keep me occupied. Giving me a free story is supposed to soak up my time."

"To what end?"

"I don't know. Muru ... the slave said they have hired the showroom for a month. So that sets the outer limit of whatever time frame they are working on. I figure the closer I am to them, the more I'm likely to find out their intentions. I just need to keep pushing."

"What can I do?"

"The gangs are afraid of her. I think they could be convinced to act against her if they thought they had ‘Port Security's blessing, even help."

"I can be persuasive, but I think that may be beyond my skills."

"Well, maybe convince them to help ‘Port Security nail Mischa with something. They must have evidence of her activities."

He dabbed sauce from his chin. “Phong's arse, you know how to stir up trouble."

She gazed thoughtfully at him, reminiscing about a similar meeting she'd had with Maxim when they'd first met. They'd had a staring competition over their ribs and Altaran sauce. “It's my nature."

"Yeah, I know already. You're a reporter."

* * * *

After a quick sleep, shower and visit to the Adana Observer's office where she conducted a hurried conference with Roberta, she made her way to the Amalgamated Spaceport Guild of Scavengers’ Showroom on Level Seven. Murukan was there directing the chaos.

"You're very good at this,” she told him after observing his quiet command of the bustling situation.

"Making it up as I go along,” Murukan said with a glint in his eye.

The showroom was awash with hundreds of grey cryogenic tanks being moved along with anti-grav lifters by a small army of android workers.

"Maybe you were an art gallery administrator in your past life."

He laughed. “Perhaps."

She stood close to him, trying to get a sense of him. Everything about him was reminiscent of Maxim but, she admitted, only in a vague way, as if he was just a glimmer of memory of a long dead relative, similar but not quite the same as the original. She thought it curious that the feeling was strongest when she was close to him.

I should be able to tell if it is him, shouldn't I?

"Time for a break,” he said after manhandling a marble pedestal into position. “I need a caffee. Will you join me?"

He was standing so close to her, his body radiating a strong heat that seemed to break over her like an ocean wave. Beads of sweat were on his forehead and she breathed in his scent.

Surely this is Maxim!

Excitement built up inside her. She had a hundred questions to ask but caution restrained her. She didn't want to be disappointed. She waited patiently while an android served them caffee at a small table in the corner of the showroom. “You were saying before that you have no memory beyond the last few months."

"That's true."

His eyes seemed to sparkle as he gazed at her and she quelled the excitement. “I think we have met before."

"You do?"

"Of course,” she said hurriedly, “your appearance is much different from ... my friend, but your mannerisms, the way you hold yourself and conduct yourself with others is so very like him."

He leaned forward. “Who was he?"

"I may be wrong,” she said.

"If you can give me a clue as to my identity, I'd be most grateful."

His eyes were hypnotizing and she felt as if she were falling into a dark well. She took a deep breath and her body flooded with desire. She suppressed the almost overwhelming desire to kiss his sensual lips and have him there and then.

"You have no memory of me?"

He stared at her intensely for a few moments. “I'm sorry, Holly, none at all."

Disappointment slammed into her heart.

"Do you think that Mischa is purposefully keeping your memory closed?"

His expression hardened and she saw him fight down his immediate response. She realized that he was besotted, fixated, possessed by the pirate bitch.

"I think not."

"I find it hard to believe that you can't recover your memories. There are ways! What do the doctors say?"

"They say I suffered severe neural disruption, brain damage, in the accident."

Holly's heart froze mid beat. She reached out and grasped his wrist. “No!"

"My memory centers, the ones associated with the sense of self, were damaged beyond regeneration. They restored me to full functioning, but only from the day I opened my eyes in Mischa's ship. That's the truth of the matter. Even if I was your ... friend, I'm afraid I'll never remember our time together."

"Never?"

"Holly, if this was a holo-vid and we were actors, you'd lean forward, brush your lips against mine and I'd suddenly remember who I was and what we had together..."

She leaned forward and silenced him with a kiss. His lips were firm, and yielded under her insistent pressure. The kiss was long and hard and her head reeled with it.

How could this not be Maxim?

She released him from her lips and sat back, blinking away the tears.

"I'm sorry, Holly. This is not a holo-vid."

* * * *

"There you have it, viewers. Far be it for me to try and dictate what is or isn't good taste to the thoughtful minds of Adana citizens. So, I'll leave it up to you to decide if this display of cadaveries, bodies which used to be people like you and I, slaves from the planet Jackal, whose minds have been erased and are now helpless puppets without the strings of consciousness, is worthy of your attention. Slaves they may have been once, but human beings they remain.

"If you think this is the type of art suitable for Adana, then come down and see this exhibition, but if you believe this to be the very worst of human entertainment, then boycott this exhibition and let the Adana Council, the Chamber of Commerce and every other politician who relies on your vote for his or her livelihood know you want to have this travesty shut down. This is Holly Barberossa observing for the Adana Observer."

Holly snapped her smartcam closed and took a deep breath. She didn't like what she'd just done. Supporting freedom of expression, the arts and the media to challenge ways of thinking and behaving was her deepest held belief, but some things just went too far. There had to be a line drawn somewhere. For Holly, the abuse of slaves, sentient or otherwise, had provided that line. One thing was certain, Mischa would not be pleased and Holly was sure she'd do something about it.

She went to the office, checked in with Roberta and then decided a beer was in order to wash the taste of the cadaverie exhibition out of her mouth. As she made her way down to Level Six she was diverted to a shadowy maintenance corridor by a hissing sound and a rustle of clothes. For a moment Holly thought it was one of the gangs about to renew their warning.

"Holly, over here."

It was Murukan's voice. She peered into the darkness to see him beckoning to her. “What is it?"

"I need your help."

"Sure, what can I do?"

"I've run away. Your story angered Mischa greatly. She blamed me for telling you what really happened on Jackal. She wouldn't believe me. I'm afraid she'll kill me, or worse, hand me over to the artist."

Guilt washed over her. Oh shit, what have I done?

"I'm so sorry, Murukan. I had no idea she would blame you. My own sources gave me the true story of the slave revolt and Mischa's response to it."

"She will kill me."

Holly's mind was racing. “I'll take you to ‘Port Security."

He shook his head. “I've tried but Janga has already dispatched her own people to block off any access to the authorities. She has local security people in her employ."

"Damn it!"

"Besides, I belong to Mischa. I am her property. A runaway slave has no rights."

Despite his predicament Holly didn't sense fear. He was instead stoic, speaking calmly. “I will have to stow away on an outbound ship,” he said.

At least he has a plan.

"I know people who may be able to help."

"I can't ask your friends to risk themselves for a stranger. I just need to hide for a day or two, then find a way to the docks."

Holly shook her head. “That's too risky. The docks are the most secure place on Adana. You'll either need a big bribe for ‘Port officials or a slightly smaller one for the Earlobe gang."

Holly considered going to Zweep but he was so tied up with Mischa she couldn't trust his scruples.

"I want you to follow me to Maxim's apartment. No one will look for you there. You can lay low there till I make the arrangements."

"I have no money."

"I'll figure something out. Now, keep close."

She took him in a roundabout way to Maxim's apartment, making sure she wasn't followed. Murukan walked behind her, disguised in a hooded cloak, and as far as she could tell didn't attract a single glance.

Once at the apartment she ushered him inside. He swept the hood away from his head and grasped her tightly by the waist and drew her to him. His kiss was urgent, hungry. She could do nothing else but return it just as desperately.

When he released her, Murukan apologized. “I've wanted to hold you ever since..."

She wanted to ask him if he had remembered who he was, but was afraid that he would say no. Her mind was roiling in confusion. What to do? She had to think straight, and she couldn't do it with him standing so close, his arms holding her tight around the waist.

Holly wanted to dissolve in his arms, to take him, Maxim or not. She wanted him. Her body was suffused with a sudden heat and her decision was made. She lifted her face to his, gazed into his eyes. “Kiss me."

Her communicator beeped in her ear. She ignored it as she surrendered herself to his lips. The communicator beeped again.

Murukan's hands were inside her jumpsuit, cupping her breasts, his fingers finding her straining nipples. He peeled away her suit from her shoulders, his fingers getting so entangled in the Forget-Me-Not necklace that it snapped and fell to the floor.

She cried out in concern and broke away from him to pick it up off the floor.

"I'm sorry, Holly. I was getting carried away.” He put his hands around her waist and drew her to him again.

The communicator beeped. In frustration she held a restraining hand against Murukan's chest. “I better get this, it might be important."

It was Silas.

She stepped away from Murukan's hungry gaze and opened the line. Before Silas could tell her why he was calling, she told him she needed his help.

"You want me to do what?” he said in astonishment when she had finished.

"I want you to pay Earlobe to get Murukan away from Adana."

"He won't go for it."

"It's his way of scoring a point against Mischa. He hates her, right?"

"That's not enough incentive."

"I've got a thousand credits."

"Not enough."

"What do you have?"

His jaw dropped open. “You're kidding me, right?"

"We can't let Mischa kill him."

He shook his head. “I smell a rat."

"Sssh! We got him into this, we have to do something for him."

"What do you mean we? I didn't do a story on Mischa's latest atrocity did I?"

"Well, if you're going to be like that..."

There was a long pause. “I didn't say I wasn't going to help."

"Listen, throw in a thousand credits and I'll give you free advertising every other day for a month."

"Twelve months."

"Six."

"Done."

"Vinnie is going to kill me."

"I have a feeling that by the end of this he'll have to join the queue behind Janga, Mischa, Earlobe and every other crime family on Adana."

She nodded thoughtfully. “Add Zweep Dollavera to the list. He'll be livid if I ruin his arrangements with Mischa."

[Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter Nine

"Will he be gone long?” Murukan asked.

Holly gave him a hopeful smile. “Not too long I expect. He seems to have a hotline to the bad guys around Adana."

The silence was pregnant with possibility. Holly knew the heat that had spread across her body had flushed her face. After she had ended the call with Silas she had distanced herself from Murukan. If he came within arm's length she knew she would not be able to resist him.

Her reluctance to take it any further with him sprang from an element of guilt. No matter how similar he seemed to be to Maxim, and how similar his recent history, she did not want to betray Maxim on a hunch and a whim. If only she could be sure he was indeed Maxim.

If she spirited him away, she might lose track of him forever. She couldn't let that happen. An idea blossomed in her mind.

"Listen, Murukan. Do you really want to find out who you are?"

"Yes, of course."

"Mischa will have records of your capture and treatment, wouldn't she?"

"I suppose."

"Where would they be?"

He rubbed his jaw. “The only way I could get to records like that would be through Janga's computer. But that is in her security room on Mischa's ship."

"Could you get me onboard?"

"What? I want to get as far away as I can from her, not on her ship."

"But she and Janga will be on Adana at the opening of the exhibition with all her security detail to protect her from the angry mob I've raised."

"Angry mob?"

She laughed at his expression of horror. “I have connections with the poor. They don't take kindly to slavers. All too often they end up in their clutches."

He appeared to think it over. “I do not have access to Janga's computer,” he said at last.

"You just get me onboard her ship. I have someone who can get into that."

He appeared surprised. “You do?"

"Absolutely.” She studied him closely. “You can get me onboard?"

"I'll have to think it through,” he said slowly.

"Murukan,” she said impatiently. “Even if you aren't Ma ... my friend, I believe everyone should know their past. I want to help you find out who you are."

He gazed at her speculatively for a moment. Holly felt her face flush with deeper warmth. She fingered the Forget-Me-Not anxiously, trying to fix it back around her neck. Resolve solidified in her chest. “We must find out who you really are."

"Then let's go."

She scooped up her smartcam and while she adjusted it, she activated her communicator and made a call. “I have to enlist someone to break into Janga's computer."

"Who?"

"A really smart gal."

* * * *

After a quick introduction and explanation of her mission, Cindy Sherman readily agreed to assist her. She even wanted to come aboard with them but Holly insisted she stay in her shop and relay instructions to her. Cindy said she'd need some equipment, specifically a hacking device, and Holly said she and a friend would be right over to collect it.

Murukan had donned his hooded cloak, which made him resemble a Lillonian priest, and they made their way to Cindy's computer shop.

Cindy had been of great assistance in saving Robert, the abused robot, and shortly after she'd been viciously attacked in her shop. At the time Holly believed the attack had been the result of her assisting her investigation, but she later discovered that Cindy had stolen a xenite, a sentient dildo, from a BDSM parlor, so that she could copy its programming and circuitry. Holly hadn't reported the fact as she liked Cindy a lot and had made her promise never to do an illegal thing again. Until now.

Keeping a wary eye on Holly's hooded companion, Cindy gave Holly a miniaturized hacking device. Holly stowed it in her bag, and after assuring her everything was okay, ushered Murukan out of the store.

They made their way to the docks unhindered. At docking bay ninety-four they found the gate to Mischa's yacht unguarded. Murukan said they were probably with Mischa at the exhibition. If she was onboard there would be a very visible presence. He used his palm print to access the gate and they entered Mischa's deserted ship.

This is far too easy.

Even though there was not a soul on board, the overhead lights were powered up and the hull hummed with the converters. Holly asked Murukan about it.

"She insists on the ship always being ready to depart in case we need to leave in a hurry."

"I bet that has happened a few times."

"Not while I've been with her."

"Where are you taking us?"

"To Janga's security center. It's just down here."

They crept along the corridor, through several bulkheads and into a shadowy room lined with consoles which cast a lurid glow. Holly blinked her eyes to get accustomed to the dark.

"Stop there!"

Holly jumped in surprise, realizing she was alone. Murukan was gone. “Janga,” Holly said, marshalling her fear. “I thought you were at the exhibition."

"Sorry to disappoint you.” Janga had a pistol and she waved it impatiently. “Throw that camera over here."

Reluctantly Holly did so. She winced as Janga crushed it underfoot. It was her favorite unit and had cost just shy of ten thousand credits. Vinnie would go spare at its loss. Luckily she had a second camera.

"Empty your pockets."

Holly complied, taking as much time as she could, dropping bits and pieces onto the floor. “That as well."

Janga meant the Forget-Me-Not pendant. “No."

"I'll shoot you."

"I'm not giving it up."

"First I'll blow off your left arm.” Janga raised the weapon threateningly.

"I want it back."

Janga rolled her eyes and laughed. “We'll see about that."

Holly undid the pendant and hung it on the back of a chair. “Not good enough,” Janga said menacingly.

Holly's eyes had adapted and she saw a shadow moving deeper in the room. It must be Murukan sneaking up on Janga. “It's not a camera or microphone,” she said loudly, to disguise any noise he might make.

"Throw it here."

Reluctantly Holly tossed it over, trying not to let her eyes follow Murukan's progress through the shadows. Janga's pistol was aimed squarely at Holly's breast and she hoped that Murukan wouldn't do anything too rash. He was directly behind Janga now.

Janga let the pendant hit her chest and fall to the floor. Holly needed to distract her so that Murukan could have maximum room to act.

"What's going on? Will you enlighten me?"

"If you make a false move, I'll blow your arm off. How's that for enlightening?"

"I hadn't guessed you had a sense of humor,” Holly said.

"I don't. I mean it."

"Sense of humor or not, there's no reason you can't tell me what I want to know."

"What you want to know is irrelevant to me.” She raised the pistol to point at her face. Holly decided that the moment Murukan made his move she'd throw herself down to the left. With any luck he'd push Janga's gun hand upwards and she'd miss if she actually loosed a shot.

Murukan was close behind Janga now and Holly held her breath, waiting for the moment.

"Why did you bring her here?” Janga asked unexpectedly.

"She could not be diverted,” Murukan whispered in Janga's waiting ear.

"I told Mischa you would fail."

Holly's jaw dropped. “Murukan?"

"You've created a problem,” Janga said.

"How so?"

"I am to meet Mischa at the courtroom for the final act."

"You can still go.” Murukan gave Holly a wink. “I'll watch her."

Hope soared in Holly's breast. Murukan was playing a dangerous double game. Janga laughed. “I think not. You are too unreliable. When she had me pull you out of the wreckage I knew it was a mistake to keep you alive."

"What wreckage?” Holly asked.

Janga laughed. “Murukan, go to the courtroom. Tell Mischa I have this bitch tied up and that I'll supervise the resurrection from here."

"As you wish."

Anger flared in Holly's breast. She didn't know what Murukan was up to but it wasn't helping her. He was giving up far too easily. “Don't you want to know who you are?” Holly shouted at him.

His expression hardened. “Janga, do you know?"

She shook her head. “Look it up. Computer,” she said to the air. “Open my file on Murukan."

Holly's heart thudded powerfully as she watched him go to the screen and flick through some pages of text. He paused.

Janga laughed. “Satisfied?"

He looked to Holly. She saw the conflict raging behind his eyes.

He's trying to remember me...

Surprisingly he said to Janga, “Don't harm her or I will kill you myself."

Janga laughed contemptuously. “If you don't go to Mischa, she'll have us all killed. Remember, she saved you for a purpose but she does not tolerate failure."

He seemed to be torn between staying and following Janga's orders. She knew the latter had won when his sad eyes gazed at her. “Wait here, Holly. There is something I must do. Janga will not harm you or she will answer to me."

He left before she could ask what he had discovered about his identity. “Wait!"

Janga's lips curled in an amused smile. “Computer, close file."

"Is he Maxim?” Holly asked, though it pained her to have to ask this pernicious bitch.

To Holly, Janga's laughter was like breaking glass. “You love him, yes?"

"Does it give you such pleasure to torture me?"

"He is attractive, I agree. When I first pulled him from the wreckage he was burned so badly, his flesh ... well, let's just say he no longer resembled his pictures. I must admit I kept a file on him even before I knew we would hit the Euripides. He's all patched up now. Mischa decided not to match his former self. Why not make a new man of him, she said. As you know, he has a nice cock. That was undamaged. Do you know that after he fucks Mischa, I suck his come out of her cunt? Then we three kiss, sharing his seed. You know his taste, do you not?"

The bile had risen in Holly's throat. She couldn't speak, she could only glare at the laughing harridan.

Holly took a deep breath. I have to focus.

Murukan said he would return. But would he? If he was Maxim he would not have left her in the hands of this bitch. Unless there was something important he had to prevent, something big.

Bigger than the two of us?

Holly couldn't imagine what that could be.

When he had read the file and then looked at her she saw his fight to remember. She saw he had tried but failed. She had to accept that he didn't remember their lives before the Euripides. That realization ripped at her heart.

But that didn't mean they couldn't build a new life, but to have a future with him she had to get out of this mess.

She needed time to think things through. Janga was grinning at her, a malicious gleam in her dark eyes.

Focus!

"What did you mean by the resurrection?"

Janga rolled her eyes. “Enough questions. Turn around."

"So you can shoot me in the back of the head? I'd rather make you look me in the eye."

"So melodramatic. I am not going to kill you. You are still useful for the time being."

"I wouldn't trust you to tell me the truth."

"Suit yourself."

Holly had time to note Janga's finger tightening on the trigger before she fell twitching to the floor. Janga had shot her with a stun gun, and while her body was afire with agonizing pins and needles she was vaguely aware of her hands being tied behind her back.

"What's going to happen?” she asked when her body returned to normal.

"Now you'll see a successful coup in action,” Janga said and turned to her communications console. “Saltz. Are you ready?"

"Affirmative."

"I'll advise Mischa."

Saltz!

"What's Saltz got to do with it?” she asked but guessed the answer before she'd finished speaking. The cadaveries, she realized, weren't works of grotesque art at all. Empty husks they might be, but with Saltz's collar they could become puppet soldiers.

Holly had to hand it to Mischa. She had fooled everyone by playing her role as the glamorous fiend using one atrocity to hide an army.

"I see you've worked it out at last,” Janga mocked.

"If you want to hide something,” Holly muttered as she managed to get onto her knees and then stand. Her body was still wobbly after being stunned but she had her balance, and she preferred staring at Janga eye to eye. “Put it in plain sight."

"An old trick, but still effective."

"They are unarmed, though."

"Not for long."

Holly frantically searched for a way out and came up empty. She decided on appealing to Janga's humanity as a last resort. “Janga. Innocent people will die. You can prevent that. Help me stop Mischa."

"Why would I do that?” Those eyes were cold and dark. No humanity there.

"Have you always been such a bitch?"

Janga smiled and glanced down at her feet where the Forget-Me-Not pendant lay. She raised a boot and ground it into the deck.

A red curtain fell before Holly's eyes. She was aware that someone close by was screaming when she leaped toward Janga and knocked her against the bulkhead. Janga grunted in surprise and pain and went limp beneath her.

Holly got up slowly, expecting a trick, but Janga was unconscious, a pool of blood forming around her head. Holly's assault had knocked her against something sharp on the console.

Though still tightly bound Holly searched the console for a comm unit, and used her nose to punch in Silas Archimedes’ number.

"Where are you, Holly? I have Earlobe and a couple of his friends with me at the apartment."

"Listen, forget Earlobe ... no, no, don't forget Earlobe. Get to the exhibition. The artist, Saltz, is equipping the cadaveries with weapons. He's going to use the collar to animate them and create a small army."

"Bastard! On my way."

"Be careful, he's a psychopath."

"In that case Earlobe can take care of him."

She heard Earlobe in the background grunt his agreement.

"Be quick, they are meant to be activated anytime. You'll find Roberta there. I asked her to examine a cadaverie and see if they were truly mindless."

"How was she going to determine that?"

"Never mind that."

"Are you all right? Where are you?"

"In Mischa's ship. You may want to come help once you fix Saltz."

"Sit tight."

Holly called Roberta and explained the situation.

"These unfortunate humans have had their minds completely erased, Holly."

"That's terrible, I know, but I need you to delay Saltz. Don't let him activate the collars!"

"I understand."

Holly killed the communicator, wondering if she had left anything undone. Until the coup had been put down there was nothing else she could do. She decided she had to track down Murukan, whatever his true identity, and get him away from Mischa.

"Bitch!"

Holly had no time to react before Janga had her hands around her throat.

"I'm going to cut out your tongue and eat it."

Holly couldn't move. The hands around her throat tightened. She propelled herself backwards, slamming Janga into the bulkhead. The bitch groaned but only tightened her grip around her throat.

The blood pounding in her ears sounded like ocean surf at dusk, and darkness was fast descending. Holly gathered the last remaining threads of energy and drove backwards again. Janga grunted in her ear and that was the last she knew.

[Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter Ten

"Calling Holly Barberossa."

An expectant hush fell over the crowded courtroom.

"Your Honor. If the prosecution cannot produce this, the last of their supposed witnesses, then I believe the state has no case against my client, Riz Gitto."

Judge Kasamee Kee stared grimly at the counsel for the defense. “The fact that taped recordings have mysteriously been destroyed whilst in the custody of ‘Port Security, and witnesses seem to have met untimely deaths, been spirited away because they fear for their lives or simply disappeared is not something to be smirking about."

"Your Honor, I demand that this case be dismissed and my client set free."

"Well, it seems that there comes a point in every case where the balance of justice teeters and may fall either to the side of the prosecution or to the side of the defense. The absence of witnesses appears, at this stage, to favor the defense. However, as providence would have it, there is a witness after all."

A murmur of surprise swept through the courtroom and steadily grew to a crescendo. The crack of the gavel on the bench silenced the court and Kasamee waited until there was complete silence. “Before the witness is produced, however, some security matters should be attended to. Bailiff,” the judge commanded. “Please secure that gentleman there."

Kasamee pointed to the handsome slave who had just taken his seat next to Mischa. Two burly security officers appeared on either side and, before he could react, had manacled his wrists. “Bailiff, ensure his companion does not leave the courtroom or communicate with anyone outside."

The security guards searched Murukan, removed a communicator and put a communication suppression unit around his wrist. Mischa waved them away, being far too glamorous to be seen struggling with mere court officials, and handed over her diamond encrusted communicator and with great dignity attached the suppressor herself.

The courtroom once again erupted into a confused gabble. Judge Kee pounded the bench with her gavel. “Silence."

"Your Honor, I protest. These theatrics have no place in our justice system."

"On the contrary. You, as defense counsel, have been the principal actor in these theatrics these past few months. A pity you were not writing the script."

"Your Honor, please, enough is enough. Produce your witness or release my client."

"Bailiff, bring that man to me."

Murukan was taken to stand before the judge whose ever-present bodyguard stood beside her chair, his hand resting on his sidearm. He glared at Murukan as if daring him to try something,

"Where is Holly Barberossa?” she asked.

"I do not know, Your Honor."

"Do you know why she is not here in court?"

"No, I do not."

"Do you know who you are?"

"My name is Murukan."

"That is the name Mischa gave you, is it not?"

"Yes, Your Honor."

"When did you lose your memory?"

"Several months ago. I was in an accident. Mischa saved me from the wreckage of a spacecraft and had my body repaired and then gave me employment."

"But you have no memory of your life before Mischa rescued you?"

"No, Your Honor."

A murmur began and raced around the courtroom, gathering intensity as people added up the months and came to the same astounding conclusion. “He's Maxim Dollavera. Come back from the dead. To think, he's been her slave all the time."

"Silence!” Kasamee returned her attention to Murukan. “You owe Mischa a great deal, don't you?"

"Yes, Your Honor."

"Unfortunately, that is no defense against lying to the court. Bailiff, arrest this man for contempt.

"Mischa, come here."

Mischa thrust her head high and strode imperiously toward the bench to face the smiling judge. Their pale skins, evidence of their shared Holthian ancestry, gleamed in the overhead lights.

"It is my pleasure to inform you,” Kasamee Kee said, “that your attempted armed takeover of Adana has failed. Your cadaverie army has been neutralized and your confederates in ‘Port Security arrested. Do you have anything to say?"

Mischa was haughty to the last. “Not to you, no."

"Bailiff, take her away."

"Your Honor, I protest. None of this has anything to do with my client. He had no knowledge of whatever Mischa and her cohorts were up to."

"That is not our immediate concern now that the threat to law and order has been neutralized."

"But without witnesses my client has no case to answer."

"Prosecution, you may call your witness."

The prosecution lawyer stood up, an unexpected gleam in his eye. “The prosecution calls Maxim Dollavera."

A gasp of surprise swept through the confused crowd. All eyes went to the rear of the court, expecting Maxim Dollavera to rise from the dead and walk through the door, so most missed Kasamee's taciturn bodyguard step into the witness box. “You are Maxim Dollavera?” the prosecution asked.

"I am."

The courtroom erupted into pandemonium as this was clearly not the twice savior of Adana. A quick DNA confirmation was performed by the clerk of the court who confirmed it was, indeed, Maxim Dollavera.

"Can you explain where you have been since the pirate attack on the Euripides?"

"Undergoing medical treatment for severe burns and other injuries, including severe memory loss."

"Did that include facial reconstruction?"

"Yes, it did. I was badly injured."

"Where were you receiving treatment?"

"The Navy hospital on Banyan Seven."

"After that?"

"Witness protection under the supervision of the High Court."

"And how is your memory now?"

"For my own protection, it was suppressed until ten minutes ago."

"You can now relate the events last year pertaining to the attempted coup on Adana?"

"Absolutely."

"Your Honor, I protest!"

"For Phong's sake, get a grip. You now have a witness against your client. You better hurry and prepare the questions you obviously hadn't planned on asking."

"Your Honor, I..."

"I know, I know, you protest."

[Back to Table of Contents]

Epilogue

Holly could not remember being so happy. Not since that final year back home, when her dad and her mother were still together with her sister Peri too, had she felt so complete. It had been a tough few years since that glorious summer; her parents’ divorce, the war, the gypsy-like existence with her journalist father going from trouble spot to trouble spot, his eventual death and her fleeing for her own life before ending up on Adana.

This was the first time that she could honestly feel like she was where she was supposed to be. With Maxim, the real Maxim, lying beside her, his head pillowed on her breast. “I feel like such an idiot!"

He kissed her on the lips to silence her. His lips progressed down her chin to her throat and the flesh between her breasts.

"That damn Forget-Me-Not had me confused all along. It was malfunctioning, emitting your darn pheromones all the time. I was walking around in a continuous state of sexual arousal."

"It's nice to know I have that effect on you,” he said.

"No wonder I couldn't think straight. Murukan, because he said he'd been recently rescued from an accident and, well, damn it, he acted like you in a sort of..."

"Sort of what?"

"I don't know. Your pheromones confused me. He was built like you, walked like you and, most significantly, I thought he smelled like you too."

Maxim kissed her nipples and bolts of desire shot through her. “Bet he didn't kiss like me."

"No one kisses like you.” She giggled. “I wasn't sure, right up till when he disappeared to join Mischa. I thought if he was you, he must have been stopping the coup. That's the only reason I figured you'd leave me."

"I'd never leave you like that."

"I know that now! But my head was warped by that damn pendant. But I had my doubts. Just like I knew you weren't dead. I don't know how your brothers could accept it, you, the best pilot in the galaxy, shot down by pirates."

"Well, they did get me, and my thumb."

"You can't be lucky all the time."

"When I woke up, I was in the hospital with no memory. It was the navy guys who pulled me out and saved my life."

"But why? I mean, how did they know it was you? Why didn't they tell Felis?"

"Kasamee Kee had sent them out to our asteroid to collect me and put me under protective custody. When they saw it was my ship that had been blasted, they thought they were too late, but when they found me they knew they had to grab me pretty quick. Then they melted the cockpit to make sure everyone thought I was dead, which wasn't far from the truth. I was pretty much a goner, so they tell me."

She gave his new face a close examination. “You know, I think it's an improvement."

"You do? Just as well, I've grown attached to it."

"No, I mean, you know how you Dollavera clones hate looking alike, well, now you don't have to worry about that."

"You have a point there."

"So, you'll keep this new improved look?” She kissed the point of his chin.

"You're the one who'll be looking at me. See how you like it before we do anything."

She kissed him. “When did you remember me?"

"You were my first memory."

"Truly?"

"Absolutely. They revived me in the judge's chambers. As soon as the fog cleared I demanded to see you and the judge said you were helping her..."

"Not to my knowledge. She used me for bait."

"I didn't know you were in danger. She told me you were purposely lying low till the last minute. I'll never forgive her for that."

"I don't think she's looking for forgiveness from anybody."

"After I gave my evidence, Silas contacted her and said he was going to your rescue. So I broke out."

"And boy was I glad to see you, though it was funny watching you push Silas away."

"He was being a little too considerate, I thought."

"Well, it's all over now. Judge Kee finished the case today and sentenced Gitto to a permanent memory wipe."

"Trust me, that's a terrible thing to do, even to a mean bastard like Gitto. I know what it's like to have no memory."

"While she may have no morals, she does have a strong sense of justice, does Judge Kee, as well as who and what she is—a politician. She's going to be the IAC's next boss."

"Phong protect us from politicians. She hasn't a moral cell in her body. I've seen her in action, remember."

"Well, she's out of our lives now. As is Silas. I found out he was working for the Secret Service all the time. Seems they didn't trust Kasamee to do the right thing and they set him out to watch her."

Maxim laughed. “The left hand doesn't know what the right hand is doing."

"And doesn't trust it even when it does. It's a wonder the human race survives. You know, I think we're too dumb to live sometimes."

"He did save you from Janga. He beat me there, you know, clobbered her good and proper."

"He didn't save me. I had it under control, thank you very much."

"He told me Janga was choking the life out of you."

"Hardly. Besides, I was five seconds away from breaking her arm."

He silenced her with a kiss. “I still think he has a soft spot for you. He said if I ever tire of you I should let him know. But I think he'll have his hands full with Kasamee. They became pretty friendly during the last few days."

"Did they? Tell me more."

"Well, let me tell you a secret. I witnessed the judge receiving her own corporal punishment. She likes her ass slapped."

"Really?"

"I swear to tell the truth, the whole..."

"Show me."

"I don't know if I should, she being in line to be the next premier of the IAC...” With a suddenness that made her squeal, Maxim grabbed her by the ankles and flipped her over onto her stomach. Before she had time to draw breath his hand came down on the cheeks of her ass with a stinging slap that, like a lightning bolt, streaked across her flesh. She gave a squeal of surprise and then, when Maxim's glorious cock stretched her moist pussy lips, she sighed with pleasure.

Then another slap exploded across her ass like a detonating bomb and she gasped as Maxim's cock drove home. Alternating thrust and slap, Maxim quickly raised her arousal to a state where conscious thought was hard to hold onto. With her face pressed sideways into the sheets she could, with one eye, watch Maxim as he concentrated on pleasuring her.

He was so handsome with his new face. It was so beautiful. When she had first seen him, from the deck of Mischa's ship, his face had been swimming in and out of focus. She had been struck by how pleasing this stranger's face was. When he had taken her into his arms and held her to his warm chest she had known instantly, without a doubt, that this was Maxim.

My Maxim. Another slap sent cascading waves of warmth flooding her belly, and Maxim's deep thrusts quickly lifted her thoughts away from the logical into the metaphysical and she was flying among the cloudscapes of heaven.

Only after heaven had blossomed into an incandescent ball of light and her body convulsed itself into exhaustion did logical thought return. He lay behind her, holding her in his arms, his wonderful cock nestled inside her.

"I think I like a bit of corporal punishment,” she said, when her breathing had returned to normal and she trusted her voice.

"We'll save it up for when you're naughty,” he said. “Can't have too much of a good thing."

"Wanna bet?” she said, and slapped his thigh.

"Ouch!"

"Felis tells me he is very happy with Roberta's new look,” he said and turned her onto her back. He kissed her chin, then her throat and her breasts along the way down to her open thighs.

In between gasps and sighs Holly tried to carry on the conversation. “She claimed one of the cadaveries for herself. I'm not sure how I feel about that."

"She said she'll give the body back if the original owner, or nearest kin, asks for it."

"That's a safe bet then."

"How did she disarm Saltz? That hasn't come out yet,” he said, licking the folds of her pussy lips.

"Oh, she pretended to be an android assistant attaching the collars to the cadaveries. She just sneaked up behind him and put one on him instead. She set it on high. Poetic justice, I reckon."

"Do you think we'll ever see the end of Mischa and Murukan?"

He was doing it on purpose, she knew, keeping her talking when all she wanted to do was moan in contentment. He knew that orgasms snuck up on her that way and would take her breath away.

In Holly's mind the biggest downside to the case was that the devoted couple and Janga had engineered their escape while being transported to a penal settlement in the inner systems. “They'll turn up again I'm sure, though Mischa is a full-fledged outlaw now. That will put a chink in her social activities.” Maxim's tongue silenced her for a few minutes with one of those sudden climaxes that did take her breath away.

"One thing is for certain,” she said later, between her seventh and eighth orgasms. “I'll never forget you."

He picked fragments of the Forget-Me-Not off the bedside table. “Even without this?"

"Especially without that, because I swear, you're not leaving my sight ever again."

As he kissed the soft flesh of her belly, she took the pendant from him and flung it away before losing herself once again to the real Maxim Dollavera.

[Back to Table of Contents]

Mikala Ash

Mikala Ash wakes up every morning to the sound of the crashing surf and has her first coffee of the day on her verandah overlooking the wide Pacific Ocean. It's a double-edged blessing, she says:

I have to drag myself away to do anything at all—like work. I'm a Management Consultant and I don't think Ricky (my beautiful Border Collie) fully understands the economic necessity of me working to keep him in the lifestyle he's become accustomed to (typical male). He just wants me to run with him along the beach all day chasing those pesky sea gulls. He's good company though and, if there are shape shifters in the world, I think I'd like him to be one—loyal, trustworthy, obedient and protective. A voracious reader, I've been writing in one form or another since I was little. I'm so lucky that I've found a way of sharing my passion for spicy romance and the more fantastical realms that hover just beyond our grasp.

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