Bedtime Stories_ A Collection of Erotic Fairy Tales Part 7

"Oh. Right." Evanna felt her cheeks growing warm. "Sorry."

Her a.s.sistant sighed and rolled her eyes. "It's all right. You have a lot on your mind. You're in charge of a lot of projects, most of which are of importance to the Terran military. You don't have time for social niceties. The work is what is important."

Normally, Evanna would have taken comfort in those frequently repeated words. She was was important to the ceramics industry, and she important to the ceramics industry, and she did did create superior armor plating for the ships of the Terran United Planets s.p.a.ce Force. Lives literally depended on her work, and she took pride in her careful considerations. But the way Amanda rolled her eyes and the stiff, rote tone in her voice spoke more of impatience with such things. create superior armor plating for the ships of the Terran United Planets s.p.a.ce Force. Lives literally depended on her work, and she took pride in her careful considerations. But the way Amanda rolled her eyes and the stiff, rote tone in her voice spoke more of impatience with such things.

Like maybe she doesn't think this project is important? That's not like her, but what else could it be? Evanna narrowed her eyes. "Are you belittling the work we're doing? We Evanna narrowed her eyes. "Are you belittling the work we're doing? We are are in the business of saving lives, you know." in the business of saving lives, you know."

Amanda met her gaze straight on, her impatience replaced with sobriety. "My brother is serving on board a TUPSF-Navy starship, remember? I know know we're in the business of saving others' lives. But I think you should take a look at your own life, too." we're in the business of saving others' lives. But I think you should take a look at your own life, too."

That made no sense. Evanna frowned again. "What do you mean by that?"

The other woman flicked her gaze briefly up at the corner of the room, to the black bubble on the ceiling that housed the security camera. "Nothing. Nothing at all. The courier needs your thumbprint scan to unlock the canister of bis.m.u.th, Doctor. He's waiting in the upper conference room."

"Not the lower one?" Evanna asked. The upper conference room, with its bay windows overlooking the craters of Clavius sitting below the installation and the upside-down visage of the Earth hanging in the sky overhead, was usually reserved for visiting dignitaries. Even if the new isotope held the potential for promise, delivery personnel were usually shown to an interior conference room, one which was closer to the docking hangar. She herself didn't visit it as often as she would have liked, but then she was often preoccupied with her work.

"He insisted on waiting in a room with a view." Stepping back, Amanda gave her s.p.a.ce to exit the holographic lab.

As she walked along the clean white and pale gray corridors of the inst.i.tute, Evanna focused her thoughts on the isotope sample she had ordered. If Dr. Farberjiin's calculations are correct on the heightened diamagnetic properties of the isotope when combined in his experimental compound, it could be possible to mitigate the impact of incoming projectile attacks. The only problem will be synthesizing sufficiently large enough quant.i.ties for practical applications in military hull plating, never mind the civilian sector. If Dr. Farberjiin's calculations are correct on the heightened diamagnetic properties of the isotope when combined in his experimental compound, it could be possible to mitigate the impact of incoming projectile attacks. The only problem will be synthesizing sufficiently large enough quant.i.ties for practical applications in military hull plating, never mind the civilian sector.

Of course, bis.m.u.th isn't the only diamagnetic element, she acknowledged, silently cataloguing subst.i.tute materials as she and Amanda rode the nearest lift to the upper levels of the complex. Dmitrium has four times the opposing polarity qualities, albeit with a half-life of a fraction of a second, which makes using the 115th element highly impractical. And bis.m.u.th has a certain thermic sensitivity, making it difficult to incorporate into the ceristeel matrix during the manufacturing process. Which means I'd need to come up with a mineral additive to bind and stabilize it with so it would not be affected by temperature or time. Dmitrium has four times the opposing polarity qualities, albeit with a half-life of a fraction of a second, which makes using the 115th element highly impractical. And bis.m.u.th has a certain thermic sensitivity, making it difficult to incorporate into the ceristeel matrix during the manufacturing process. Which means I'd need to come up with a mineral additive to bind and stabilize it with so it would not be affected by temperature or time.

Maybe if I bound the isotopic compound within nanocages and injected it into the foam as it cools during the annealing process? That could could work if I picked the right matrice for the cage, though I may have to figure out how to activate the compound without requiring that it be a catalyst work if I picked the right matrice for the cage, though I may have to figure out how to activate the compound without requiring that it be a catalyst, Evanna thought, picturing it in her head half as clearly as the holographics programs in her workroom could project it. The lab required several terahertz of computational matrices to calculate molecular changes on both the micro- and macro-scales, but it required the spark of an idea to combine the right materials in the right patterns. But I still don't have a solution for the shearing potential. And I'd have to have some means of regulating the placement of the isotope in its copper cages . . . Wait . . . copper? But I still don't have a solution for the shearing potential. And I'd have to have some means of regulating the placement of the isotope in its copper cages . . . Wait . . . copper?

Copper was the color of the courier's clothes. She was supposed to be thinking about carbon carbon, not copper, but the moment she entered the conference room, it was hard to think about anything else. Not when he wore tight-fitted leather pants that looked like they had been dipped in liquified copper and a sleeveless tank shirt which looked like the remaining metallic paint had been poured down his shoulders and chest. His muscular, lean chest.

Evanna couldn't remember when she had last seen a body that well defined. Everyone at the Lunar Ceramics Inst.i.tute kept themselves in good shape, of course; despite the acquisition of artificial gravity technology fifty years before, allowing comfortable, normal-gravitied life, it was still imperative that anyone living in s.p.a.ce exercise to ensure optimum health and motility. But no one exercised so hard that even their minor muscle groups could be discerned and identified at a glance. Usually, they had too much work to do to waste their time on such frivolous pursuits.

Even his skin was somewhat tan, either naturally or enhanced by solar treatments. The courier made a colorful, eye-catching statement, surrounded as he was by the shades of gray carpeting, black table, matching chairs, and white-enameled walls framing the equally monochromatic view behind him. That view should have been arresting, given its stark, black, star-studded sky, the sliver of the Earth currently illuminated by the sun gleaming off to the left, and the white-gray-black landscape of the airless Moon. But no, the man captured her gaze first and foremost.

Normally, she liked looking out this window. The landscape was crisp and clean. It reminded her of her work, straightforward and methodical. Neat and tidy. She had asked once, a handful of years ago, if the marks left by the inst.i.tute's construction crews could be covered up. Someone had cobbled together a grit-scattering machine, powdering over and filling in the boot prints and tire treads that had spoiled the view. But now, all she could see was a man with dark brown hair, light brown eyes, and copper-painted clothes. He didn't look like a member of any courier company she was familiar with, not in that outfit.

"Captain Amariei, this is Dr. Evanna Motska, who ordered the bis.m.u.th isotope. Dr. Motska, this is Captain Victor Amariei of the inchiriat inchiriat, who is here on behalf of the Liberty Mining Corporation," Amanda said to introduce them. Then-uncharacteristically-Evanna's chief a.s.sistant retreated. The pneumatic door hissed quietly shut behind her, leaving the two of them alone.

Evanna wasn't used to being left alone with outsiders. She was always surrounded by people whenever strangers were present, whether it was a.s.sistants, lab workers, support services, or security personnel. I suppose Amanda has something to do I suppose Amanda has something to do, she allowed, lifting her chin a little as she moved forward. And Security will send someone here shortly, I'm sure. Besides, this is just a delivery. As soon as he hands over the isotope, I can have someone from Accounting pay him for his trouble. And Security will send someone here shortly, I'm sure. Besides, this is just a delivery. As soon as he hands over the isotope, I can have someone from Accounting pay him for his trouble.

She almost hadn't spotted the package; it was white and gray, and tucked into the curve of his left arm, blending into the rest of the room and its view of the Moon. An odd, sudden thought wafted across her thoughts. I think I'm getting tired of everything being soothing, pastel shades of white and gray. I think I want more color in my life . . . I think I'm getting tired of everything being soothing, pastel shades of white and gray. I think I want more color in my life . . .

But isn't color a distraction? Distractions were discouraged, because distractions weren't productive. Evanna had been given the opportunity to explore her intellect; she knew she had an obligation to pay back all that the Lunar Intelligence Trust had done for her. Distractions were discouraged, because distractions weren't productive. Evanna had been given the opportunity to explore her intellect; she knew she had an obligation to pay back all that the Lunar Intelligence Trust had done for her. So. No more wit-wandering. So. No more wit-wandering.

Pulling her wayward thoughts back into order, Evanna lifted her chin a little more. "Thank you for delivering the isotope, Captain. If you'll hold out the container, I'll release you from the security cuff, and you can be on your way."

His light brown eyes warmed with what looked like humor. They were very alive, flicking down over her plain white lab coat and the gray slacks visible beneath its mid-thigh hem. The rest of him looked like a molten copper statue, sculpted and still, but those eyes moved. So did his lips. "No."

That checked her mid-stride. Fumbling to a stop, Evanna stared at him. Not only had her a.s.sistant deviated from procedure, leaving her alone with this courier who didn't look like a courier should, he had . . . he had said no no to her. No one said to her. No one said no no to her. Not when she was in charge! "What do you mean, no? I ordered the isotope, I am paying for the isotope, and I shall receive the isotope. Hold out the security cuff so I may receive the goods I am purchasing." to her. Not when she was in charge! "What do you mean, no? I ordered the isotope, I am paying for the isotope, and I shall receive the isotope. Hold out the security cuff so I may receive the goods I am purchasing."

He shifted the arm cupping the oblong container, hitching it a little higher against his waist. Not protectively, just pointedly. "No."

She stared back in confusion. "Why not? You can't go around forever with my purchase shackled to your wrist. It's mine!"

"No, I can't. And no, I won't. You will will receive your goods," he stated, his eyes flicking up over her hair, which she had pulled into its usual knot on the top of her head. A knot which she realized was coming loose, thanks to the unruly nature of the fine blonde strands. The corner of Captain Amariei's mouth curved up. "In due time." receive your goods," he stated, his eyes flicking up over her hair, which she had pulled into its usual knot on the top of her head. A knot which she realized was coming loose, thanks to the unruly nature of the fine blonde strands. The corner of Captain Amariei's mouth curved up. "In due time."

Like her hair, this situation felt like it was coming loose when it should be neat and tidy. Evanna frowned at him. "Nonsense. You have no control over whether or not I receive my goods. I hold the personal access code, and the thumbprint to unlock it from your wrist."

"Your delicate hand holds the lovely thumb meant for the scanner to read, yes . . . but the miners gave me me the correct access code," he corrected, smiling. the correct access code," he corrected, smiling.

"Nonsense," Evanna repeated. "Why would they do that?"

"Can I show you something?" the copper-clad man asked, gesturing with his free hand at the bank of triple-paned plexi windows.

Bemused by the non sequitur, Evanna moved across the conference room. He made room for her to pa.s.s by the end of the table, stepping up behind her as she faced the windows. This close, she could feel the chill of s.p.a.ce seeping through the layers of tough, transparent material, despite the narrow vents blowing warm air up from the edge of the carpeting and the stark glow of the sunlight slanting in from the left. It reminded her of how fragile and precarious her existence was, how dependent she was upon the stout, sheltering, atmosphere-sealed walls of the compound for her survival.

The strange copper-clad man stepped up close behind her, forcing her to edge closer to the windows, until it was either risk chilling herself on the white-enameled grid framing the view or let him touch her. As it was, she could feel the heat of his body warming hers. Warmer than the sun, and more enveloping than the air of the vents toying with the loosened wisps of her hair.

"What . . . what exactly are you trying to show me?" Evanna asked, firming her voice so that she could retake control of the situation. "That you come from a culture that has no appreciation for the boundaries of personal s.p.a.ce?"

She felt him lean in closer, felt his body brushing against the back of her lab coat. Felt the soft heat of his cheek barely brushing against hers. "I'm trying to show you a heavenly body."

His right arm slid around her waist, fingers splaying lightly over her belly. Evanna sucked in a sharp breath, startled by the uninvited, unexpected touch. No one touched her there. The hand, the shoulder, those places yes, but not her stomach. She backed up instinctively, but that b.u.mped her spine against his chest, and her backside against his thighs. He wasn't that much taller than her, and a corner of her mind catalogued the way their torsos fit together. An odd comparison flitted across her mind. Like two complementary electron orbits bonding chemically together . . . Like two complementary electron orbits bonding chemically together . . .

Don't be silly! This is a distraction, she reminded herself sharply. Distractions detract from all the good I can doOoh . . . Distractions detract from all the good I can doOoh . . .

Somehow, without dropping the oval container from the crook of his elbow, Captain Amariei had managed to cup the fingers of his hand around her left hip bone, pulling them closer together. Those fingertips had managed to find nerve endings Evanna hadn't known about. She certainly didn't expect the sympathetic tingling that zinged out to her navel and dropped straight to the bottom of her pelvic girdle, making her clamp her thighs together. The action didn't contain the feeling, but rather enhanced it somehow.

The feel of his right hand lifting, gliding up, and brushing against her white-draped b.r.e.a.s.t.s distracted her further. His arm didn't linger-she might have had cause to protest if it had-but instead moved to gesture at the shades of gray before them.

"Every single day of your life is surrounded by the dullest rocks of the Moon," he murmured. "Barren. Dead. Lifeless. Black and white. You have been told over and over by your colleagues that your mind needs to be equally black and white, focused solely upon your work. In fact, you have been told this so much and so often since being handed over to the Lunar Intelligence Trust that you have come to believe them. You have been told over and over that there are only black, white, and shades of gray, to the point where you now refuse to believe in colors like red and green, gold and blue . . . things they don't want for you. Every single day, you are told how important your work is, and how you don't dare let anything distract you. Isn't this true?"

Evanna craned her neck, pulling away just far enough so she could frown at him. "How did you . . . ?"

"How did I know? Ask me instead, how do I know what your favorite story was as a child, back when you were still allowed to live a life full of color and potential?" he murmured. His light brown eyes glowed with an almost copper warmth. "Do you remember why why you liked that story? Do you even remember you liked that story? Do you even remember what what story you liked best? Or has everything you ever liked in your young life been shoved and exiled so far away, it's now farther away than the Earth itself in that empty, barren sky?" story you liked best? Or has everything you ever liked in your young life been shoved and exiled so far away, it's now farther away than the Earth itself in that empty, barren sky?"

His questions were confusing her. Evanna blinked and tried to gather her scattered thoughts. She wanted to demand the release of the isotope, knew she should demand it, but his questions about her childhood disrupted her thoughts. So did the return of his right arm, which he wrapped around her ribs just below her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Old memories surfaced, making her blink and look out at the barren stretch of powdered grit and sun-bleached stone.

My favorite childhood tale . . . I haven't thought of childhood tales in . . . in twenty years. I haven't had time time to think of such foolish things, to think of such foolish things, she told herself, shaking her head. Or rather, she tried to shake her head. Captain Victor Amariei pressed his cheek against hers, stilling her denial even as he soothed her distress with his next words. she told herself, shaking her head. Or rather, she tried to shake her head. Captain Victor Amariei pressed his cheek against hers, stilling her denial even as he soothed her distress with his next words.

"Your mother told me which one was your favorite. Snow White and the Seven Dwarves Snow White and the Seven Dwarves. She read it to you every night when you were little. You used to have fifteen different books of it, too-real books, with ill.u.s.trations painted on their pages in the fullest of colors." books, with ill.u.s.trations painted on their pages in the fullest of colors."

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see his mouth quirk in a smile.

"She said your favorite part was when Snow White was lost in the forest. You always stated that Snow White should have been happy to be among all those trees, not frightened . . . remember? Do you remember why you thought she should be happy?"

Overwhelmed by his odd embrace-by the first embrace she could remember since she was a child-Evanna licked her lips. "I . . . wanted to be be Snow White. I wanted to . . . to walk among a whole forest of trees. To go to the Motherworld and see and hear and . . . smell everything." Snow White. I wanted to . . . to walk among a whole forest of trees. To go to the Motherworld and see and hear and . . . smell everything."

All she could see was barren lunar rocks, and all she could smell was . . . No, not all she could smell was the same slightly dusty, recycled scent of the ventilated air. Evanna realized she could also smell something warm, something slightly soapy and a little musky. The scent of the copper-clad man holding her. Unless it was a chemical that she needed to pay attention to in the labs, or the food on her plate, Evanna couldn't remember the last time she had paid attention to smells. Certainly not how a particular man smelled.

"I see that even then, you were a very smart little girl," the courier who wasn't a courier murmured. "Books and videos and holograms aren't the same as the real thing . . . and books and videos and holograms are all too easily shoved aside and locked away by the people who try to control you."

"They're not controlling me," she countered, feeling the need to a.s.sert that fact. "I am here of my own free will."

"I read your employment contract."

That wasn't expected, either. Puzzled by the change in topic, Evanna twisted to look at Captain Amariei. The movement caused the canister to drop, since it dragged his fingertips along with the twisting of her hip. As the canister dangled on its security chain, she ignored the bouncing of the lump against her thigh, in favor of demanding, "You read my contract? Why? And how?"

"By Terran law, you are legally ent.i.tled to a minimum of three weeks of paid vacation every single year . . . and yet according to the work logs of this lovely little prison . . . you haven't once left the Lunar Ceramics Inst.i.tute." His eyes, alive as they were, pinned her in place. "Not in the ten years you have worked here. You earn more in a single year than I can earn hauling cargo around the solar system in five, even with the best of cargos . . . but not once have you bought a shuttle ticket, or booked a hotel room, or traveled to see in person the forests you longed to visit as a child. And I'll bet you every single atom in this can of bis.m.u.th that your colleagues and superiors in the Lunar Intelligence Trust were the ones who convinced you that you didn't need to go anywhere."

Evanna flushed at his words. "It's not that I don't need or want to go elsewhere. It's that I'm needed here here. And I'll have that can of bis.m.u.th from you, or I'll-"

"You'll what, have me thrown off the Moon? With your precious can still attached?" he said mockingly. "You know as well as I do that you you specified the isotope should be delivered in a catalytically encrypted container. If it is removed from my wrist by force, or by anything but the right code as well as your thumbprint-a code which you do not have-then according to what I was told, the liquid bis.m.u.th in this can gets mixed with the compressed oxygen in the outer sh.e.l.l, turning this stuff into a very expensive version of a fire-starter. Until you can separate out the pure metal again, it won't be good for anything involving the extremely high temperatures of the ceristeel ceramics manufacturing process your LUCI requires it to endure." specified the isotope should be delivered in a catalytically encrypted container. If it is removed from my wrist by force, or by anything but the right code as well as your thumbprint-a code which you do not have-then according to what I was told, the liquid bis.m.u.th in this can gets mixed with the compressed oxygen in the outer sh.e.l.l, turning this stuff into a very expensive version of a fire-starter. Until you can separate out the pure metal again, it won't be good for anything involving the extremely high temperatures of the ceristeel ceramics manufacturing process your LUCI requires it to endure."

Evanna stared at him. "You're just a courier! How do you know all this chemistry?"

"You don't have to be the p.a.w.n of a brain trust to have the brains to spare, Doctor Doctor," he drawled. "I just did a little research in my free time before I came here. My point is, you you designed the security system to avoid risking the sample being contaminated by industrial espionage, but the miners gave designed the security system to avoid risking the sample being contaminated by industrial espionage, but the miners gave me me the correct access code. That means I can make whatever demands I like, and either you fulfill them, or you wait another eight months before they can mine and refine enough of the ore under their current production methods to send your way again." the correct access code. That means I can make whatever demands I like, and either you fulfill them, or you wait another eight months before they can mine and refine enough of the ore under their current production methods to send your way again."

"You're trying to blackmail blackmail me?" she demanded. She craned her neck again, this time peering at the black bubbles in the ceiling. me?" she demanded. She craned her neck again, this time peering at the black bubbles in the ceiling. Why isn't Security here yet? Why haven't they leaped in here to rescue me from this . . . this . . . Why isn't Security here yet? Why haven't they leaped in here to rescue me from this . . . this . . .

"Actually, I prefer to think of it as 'rescuing' you." Cupping her cheek with his free hand, he brushed his thumb over her lips, stilling her next protest. "I want three things from you, in exchange for the correct release code. Three simple things."

"What do you want?" Evanna asked warily, wondering why his thumb should be causing the same electrified feelings his fingers had on her hip bone.

Warm brown eyes gleaming, he murmured, "The first is a kiss, here and now."

Disgusted that he was interested in something she had been told over and over was nothing more than simple, cra.s.s, useless biology, Evanna wrinkled her nose. She did did want that isotope, and she didn't want to have to wait eight months to get it. But she also didn't want to commit herself until she knew the full extent of this blackmailer's demands. "And the second thing?" want that isotope, and she didn't want to have to wait eight months to get it. But she also didn't want to commit herself until she knew the full extent of this blackmailer's demands. "And the second thing?"

"Oh, no. First, the kiss. Nothing less will unseal these lips," he murmured, smiling.

His thumb brushed her lips again, confusing her. Oh, come on Oh, come on. Evanna chided herself. It's not like you haven't kissed anyone in the past. The very It's not like you haven't kissed anyone in the past. The very distant distant past. past. She vaguely remembered kissing her mother at the end of each bedtime story, though it had been a good twenty years. Sighing, she puckered her lips and leaned in, b.u.mping them against his cheek. "There. Your kiss. And you're a blackmailer, not a rescuer, Captain Amariei. If you She vaguely remembered kissing her mother at the end of each bedtime story, though it had been a good twenty years. Sighing, she puckered her lips and leaned in, b.u.mping them against his cheek. "There. Your kiss. And you're a blackmailer, not a rescuer, Captain Amariei. If you are are a captain." a captain."

His mouth quirked up at the corner. "I am am a captain, but that is a captain, but that is not not a kiss. And I will rescue you, as you will see." a kiss. And I will rescue you, as you will see."

"Rescue me from what?" Evanna demanded.

"This place. This is like that other fairy tale, the one about the princess whose father dumped her on the top of a gla.s.s hill. Your father said you didn't like that one so much, though your little sister asked for it often enough . . . You've been isolated from everything and everyone for too many years, Evanna," he told her. "Including that forest you used to long for."

A nudge turned her around to face the stark, lifeless moonscape beyond the triple-thick windows.

"Trees don't grow on gla.s.s hills. Nothing grows up here, because life needs color instead of black-and-white. Life needs freedom and fresh air. Life needs everything you don't have . . . because you've been told over and over that you need to stay on your precious gla.s.s hill. Entirely alone, up here."

One moment she was all but wrapped in the warmth of his unorthodox, uninvited embrace. The next, he stepped back, abandoning her to the cold, impersonal air of the conference room. She couldn't feel the warmth in the air puffing up from the vents, or the heat of the sunlight streaming in from the left, an unrelenting part of the weeks-long lunar day. All Evanna could feel was alone, just as he claimed. Alone and bereft. An electron torn from its rightful path and sent careening without control through the interst.i.tial void between atomic orbits.

That is a silly piece of mental imagery, she scolded herself after a moment, striving to collect her dignity. she scolded herself after a moment, striving to collect her dignity. You are not a free radical! Free radicals are dangerous! They cause trouble, and . . . and . . . You are not a free radical! Free radicals are dangerous! They cause trouble, and . . . and . . .

The view of the crater, stark and lifeless, mocked her. Barren. Lifeless. A gla.s.s hill on which nothing could grow. She remembered that fairy tale, too, as well as her favorite. Evanna hadn't liked it because she had always thought the father of the princess had been unnecessarily cruel, abandoning her on top of that hill with nothing but three apples for company.

She had always liked this view, since it was the largest section of windows in the complex, but the transparency of the tough plexi sheltering her from the vacuum of s.p.a.ce was too gla.s.slike now for comfort. Worse, this not-a-courier captain was right, now that she thought of it. Every time she had made a comment about taking a vacation elsewhere over the past ten years-no, the past twenty twenty years, Evanna realized-the others in the Intelligence Trust had convinced her out of it, often coming up with a solid, logical, school- or work-related reason why she should stay. years, Evanna realized-the others in the Intelligence Trust had convinced her out of it, often coming up with a solid, logical, school- or work-related reason why she should stay.

I do do love my work love my work, she admitted silently. I didn't mind staying . . . after a while, I didn't mind staying . . . after a while, honesty prompted her to add. honesty prompted her to add. And I did use my holoprojection programs to simulate being in a forest . . . but I did long to see a forest for real. And I did use my holoprojection programs to simulate being in a forest . . . but I did long to see a forest for real.

I still still do. Now more than ever, now that I've been reminded of everything I've been missing . . . do. Now more than ever, now that I've been reminded of everything I've been missing . . .

Turning, she half expected the copper-clad captain to be gone. He was only a couple meters away, lounging against the side of the long, black conference table like a sober statue. His hand cradled the canister of bis.m.u.th against his hip, silently reminding her of why he was still there. For one wild, irresponsible moment, she was tempted to toss aside her quest to explore the potentials of adding diamagnetic repulsion properties to military starship hulls. Only for a moment.

I'm not abandoning my work, she a.s.serted silently, staring at him. I'm not! But . . . I I'm not! But . . . I am am going to take a vacation. A real one. On Earth, no less. And soon. I'll do it very soon. going to take a vacation. A real one. On Earth, no less. And soon. I'll do it very soon.

He hefted the canister, balancing it on his palm. "Care to try again? Or do you not want this after all?"

"I already kissed you once, Captain Amariei," Evanna pointed out, fl.u.s.tered. "Is that your second demand?"

"That wasn't a real kiss. You'll have to give me a real one to know what my second request is . . . and you should call me Victor. You are about to kiss me, after all," he added. His somber appearance seemed to melt away as he smiled. The copper statue was alive once more, and though he wasn't even within arm's length of her, she felt warm again. Warm all over.

She regathered her wits and moved closer. She even put her hands on her hips in an attempt to a.s.sert some authority over the situation. "Well, if that wasn't a real kiss, then what is, by your definition?"

Pushing off the edge of the table, he lifted his free hand to her chin. Tilting her head slightly, he tipped his the other way and brought their faces so close, she had to shut her eyes to keep from crossing them. His lips brushed against hers, lingered, and lifted a fraction away. Then they came back, pressed a little more, and nibbled. Just a little.

It was an intriguing feeling, rather than the disgusting one she had been told it was. Curious, Evanna moved her own lips. He nibbled a little more, encouraging her to respond, and startled her by licking her bottom lip. The moment her mouth parted in exclamation, he swept in and claimed it fully. It would have been unnerving in a bad way, if part of what unnerved her wasn't more of that strange twisting in her nerves. This time, instead of connecting a short, understandable distance, it speared from her mouth all the way down through her groin to her toes. Neither of which were near anything he was actually touching.

Her knees buckled. Victor let go of her chin, though not her mouth, wrapping his free arm around her back. That snugged their bodies together, once more giving her the feeling that the two of them together formed some unknown, exciting, yet somehow stable compound. The kind rife with possibilities. She just had no clue what those possibilities were, other than that he was now sucking on her lower lip and her hands were exploring the warmth of his throat and the texture of his short-cropped hair.

Her nerves were buzzing like an unstable element when he finally ended the kiss. Evanna felt like half of her life was suddenly going into decay, transforming her into something unexpected. She tried to frown at that. Another silly mental image. I'm supposed to be focusing on my . . . Ooh, his thumb again . . . Another silly mental image. I'm supposed to be focusing on my . . . Ooh, his thumb again . . .

This time, with the moisture of their kiss still on her lips, his thumb tickled her as it glided across her flesh. "That," "That," Victor Amariei murmured, "is what I'd call a kiss." Victor Amariei murmured, "is what I'd call a kiss."

She blinked, feeling a worrisome urge to lick the pad of his thumb. It was entirely unlike her to think of such things.

Victor smiled. "So . . . are you going to give me one? I've given you a good example of a real kiss, but I I gave it to gave it to you you. I want one from you to me, of your own free will."

Evanna blinked. Not only was he demanding a kiss from her, he was demanding several of them, in a sneaky way. "I'm not sure this is such a good idea . . ."

"Why not? It's perfectly normal, and perfectly natural, and perfectly not not what that brain trust wants you to do. And why not?" Victor asked rhetorically, shrugging as he leaned back against the edge of the table. "Because they want to control you. They want to what that brain trust wants you to do. And why not?" Victor asked rhetorically, shrugging as he leaned back against the edge of the table. "Because they want to control you. They want to enslave enslave you. They want every last iota of your life plugged into this inst.i.tute, so they can suck it out of you. There's only one problem. You're not a machine. You're a Human. And Humans you. They want every last iota of your life plugged into this inst.i.tute, so they can suck it out of you. There's only one problem. You're not a machine. You're a Human. And Humans are are allowed to have fun. We are allowed to have fun. We are supposed supposed to interact in personal ways. to interact in personal ways.

"Anyone who tells you otherwise, who demands demands that you give up your humanity 'for the good of humanity' . . . well, I'd say they're not Human, but that runs the risk of comparing them to the other races in the Alliance. Even the aliens don't believe in sucking the joy out of their lives, whatever their versions of joy may be." that you give up your humanity 'for the good of humanity' . . . well, I'd say they're not Human, but that runs the risk of comparing them to the other races in the Alliance. Even the aliens don't believe in sucking the joy out of their lives, whatever their versions of joy may be."

That distracted her. "Have you met an alien?" Evanna asked. "The Lunar Ceramics Inst.i.tute does a lot of research for the Terran military, so visits from foreign races have always been discouraged for security reasons . . ."

"Have I I met an alien?" the copper-clad captain repeated, touching his chest. "Every time I go to Earth, I run across aliens! They're all over the s.p.a.ceports! Gatsugi scientists, Solarican ship crews . . . even the occasional K'katta tourist or two. They're also at Ganymede, and the domes on Mars, and plenty of other places. met an alien?" the copper-clad captain repeated, touching his chest. "Every time I go to Earth, I run across aliens! They're all over the s.p.a.ceports! Gatsugi scientists, Solarican ship crews . . . even the occasional K'katta tourist or two. They're also at Ganymede, and the domes on Mars, and plenty of other places.

"There aren't many many of them, I'll admit, but they do visit this system." Victor shook his head slowly, giving her a pitying look. "All those weeks of vacation you were never allowed to take, you could have been rubbing elbows with the other sentient races. You could have been conversing with their scientists. Being inspired by outside ideas as well as your own, bouncing potential theories off of colleagues who have different life experiences and thus different perspectives on a suggested problem. of them, I'll admit, but they do visit this system." Victor shook his head slowly, giving her a pitying look. "All those weeks of vacation you were never allowed to take, you could have been rubbing elbows with the other sentient races. You could have been conversing with their scientists. Being inspired by outside ideas as well as your own, bouncing potential theories off of colleagues who have different life experiences and thus different perspectives on a suggested problem.

"But no. Instead, you're stuck here. A princess on a gla.s.s hill, isolated and alone." He hefted the container manacled to his wrist and twisted his mouth. "According to what I read of that fairy tale, that poor princess wasn't even allowed to eat her three apples, was she?"

That made Evanna fold her arms across her chest. "No, she wasn't. She was forced to give up all three of them to whoever could reach her."

"She wasn't forced, when one finally did reach out to her. She gave two of them as a gift," he pointed out.

"And got nothing in return for it," Evanna pointed out.

Victor shook his head. "She gained something far more precious than mere apples. She gained her freedom."

"Well, that's where your a.n.a.logy breaks down, Captain." Flipping her hand at him, Evanna indicated his clothes. "You come here all dressed in copper, which if I remember right was the color of the first suit of armor, and you're asking me to give you my three apples. But a canister of liquid bis.m.u.th isn't isn't equivalent to my freedom. And I'm not buying it for three kisses. Two of which you've already had from me." equivalent to my freedom. And I'm not buying it for three kisses. Two of which you've already had from me."