Green, Sharon - Mind Guest.htm Page 6

  any of his friends or hirelings get anywhere near him. If we can keep

  Bellna safe until she marries Remo, Clero will be stopped cold until he

  can think of something else."

  "Which brings you right back to the big if," I said, leaning back in

  the lump chair. "You can decoy Clero away if you can find a stand-in

  for Bellna. None of the women I've seen in this base looks much like

  her, but I suppose padding, make-up and a wig would take care of that.

  Why don't you use one of the gals you have here?"

  "Because none of them are trained fighters," Dameron said, in a voice

  charged with frustration. "They've all had field experience to one

  degree or another, but whoever goes out as decoy has to expect to be

  the object of Clero's attempt at bloody murder. The Tildorani are still

  in the sword-swinging stage before gunpowder, but that only means that

  our decoy has to be able to handle a blade well enough so that she

  needn't depend on protection from someone else. Getting separated from

  outside protection can happen all too easily. Whoever does the decoy

  work not only has to look exactly like Bellna, she also has to be able

  to fight a whole lot better than that pretty little girl."

  The block to Dameron's right reverted to its original picturelessness

  as Dameron tapped keys on his terminal, but I sat and frowned at it a

  minute before shifting my eyes back to the man.

  "What do you mean, the decoy has to look exactly like Bellna?" I asked,

  watching him as he tapped at keys. "I can understand the need for

  fighting ability, but aren't you crowding your options a little by

  insisting on an exact look-alike? It could be years before you found

  anyone like that - if you ever did. I thought you said you had less

  than a week."

  "I don't have to find someone who looks exactly like Bellna," Dameron

  said with a snort of faint amusement, still paying attention to his

  terminal. "The changes in facial structure and all will require only

  minor Healing, nothing major involved. Less than a week gives us more

  than enough time for it - if we can find someone to change soon enough.

  If we didn't need that relationship with the barbarians so badly-"

  His voice trailed off as the symbols of his terminal took his attention again, and I didn't say anything more to distract him, being too busy

  with my own thoughts. If I was understanding him correctly - and I

  didn't see how I could be mistaken Dameron's people were able to change

  anyone to look like anyone else as easily as my people shuttled back

  and forth from planets to orbital stations. The possibilities inherent

  in the process were endless and fascinating, especially in my line of

  work. If I could be changed to look like - oh, that young girl Bellna,

  for instance, I could get away with almost anything I tried. Rather

  than depending on my brown hair and eyes to let me melt into a crowd as

  camouflage, I could let red hair and blue eyes distract any male to the

  point where I could stalk a target, reach him, and then walk away

  without ever being suspected of anything nasty. No one would believe

  that a fifteen year old girl could be a Special Agent, and that would

  give me more of an edge than being female did. I crossed my legs as I

  watched pictures parading past my inner eye, and forgot all about

  Dameron.

  At least until he made a sound of pleased surprise and turned away from

  his terminal. His face was lit with hopeful excitement, and he bounced

  out of his chair as if he had just shed ten years of heavy worry.

  "The gods must be on our side in this one," he said through a grin as

  he headed for the door. "One of the gals from post nine is on her way

  in, and should be here any minute. You just relax where you are, girl.

  I won't be long."

  By that time the door was already sliding closed behind him, so there

  wasn't much sense in trying to argue. I was annoyed at being left there

  to sit and twiddle when I could have been a good number of parsecs on

  my way back home, but there wasn't anything I could do about it until

  Dameron got back. I leaned back in the lump chair again and began

  sketching out a going-home campaign that would grab Dameron's attention

  by the throat and hold it long enough to get something done.

  I had developed a line of attack with enough variables to cover almost

  any contingency and was ready to start fleshing it out with carefully

  chosen detail, when the door to the room slid open again. I thought it

  was Dameron coming back, but the figure walking through the opening

  belonged to the one who had been called Valdon. he had dark black hair

  and dark black eyes, and although he wasn't quite as big as the junior

  giant named Leandor, he didn't miss by much. he moved as lightly and

  with as much confidence as the leader of the field team had, which was

  usually unexpected in such big men. he hesitated very briefly when he

  saw me, as though he hadn't expected to find me there, then headed

  straight for Dameron's chair.

  "Well, there you are again," he observed, sitting down and keying the

  terminal to life without taking his eyes off me. "I saw you earlier,

  with Dameron, in the communications room."

  "Yes, I remember that," I observed back, keeping the answer neutral and

  uncommitted. I didn't know where this Valdon stood in the base, but the

  fewer people who knew about my origins, the better. It might be

  necessary for Dameron and his second to have all the details, but as

  far as I was concerned that was still two too many. Either one of them

  could, at any time, come up with a dozen great reasons for keeping me

  there a while longer, and the more people who knew about me, the better

  the chance that some mental lightbulbs would glow. Leaving the base

  amid tearful good-byes was preferable to fighting my way out of it, so

  a low profile was definitely a high priority.

  The terminal beeped for attention, giving Valdon something else to

  stare at, but the distraction didn't last long. There were only three

  rows of symbols for him to glance at and respond to, and then his dark black eyes were on me again.

  "How do you like our facilities?" he asked, as though just making

  conversation to while away the time. "The base is pretty standard, but

  we like to think we have better optionals than any other outpost in the

  Confederacy."

  "I'm sure you do," I agreed in a sober way, leaving it to him to decide

  whether I was agreeing with his opinion or his conclusion. A faint

  shadow that might have been annoyance flickered in his eyes while he

  waited for me to add to my four word statement, and when I didn't he

  stirred in the squarish chair.

  "We don't often get visitors like you, and I'm curious about you," he

  admitted in a friendly, outgoing way. "I'm assuming you're lost, and

  were heading somewhere else. Where were you going, and how long did it

  take you to get here?"

  He was playing it casual, asking his too-pointed questions and trying

  to keep his interested inspection of me from becoming overly obvious.

  he seemed to be a man who felt no discomfort from really looking at a


  woman, but who had learned that many women flinched from that sort of

  hunter's interest. I couldn't remember a time when the thought of being

  hunted didn't amuse and interest me more than bother me, but the

  opportunity was too good to miss.

  "I-really don't remember," I answered only the last of his questions,

  swallowing hard as I looked down at my hands in my lap. I had quietly

  drawn my knees together and was sitting as stiffly and primly as the

  lump chair allowed. "How much longer do you think Dameron will be?"

  "Oh, I'm sure he'll be back any minute," Valdon's voice rushed to

  reassure me, his tone a shade too jolly. "How about something to drink

  while we're waiting?"

  "Drink?" I echoed as if I'd never heard the word before, and nearly

  panicked. I was letting it all fall apart at once, as though my

  previous coolness had been no more than a front I couldn't maintain any

  longer. Valdon was a very handsome man, with the sort of masculine

  features and mannerisms that too often flustered women right into

  hysterics. If the way he shrugged meant anything, he'd had to face that

  particular problem be-fore and shouldn't be too hard to divert from

  detectiving.

  "Yes, a drink," he repeated with a pleasant smile. "As a matter of

  fact, I'll be glad to join you. What would you like?"

  He started to get out of Dameron's chair, anxious to be doing something

  other than trying not to stare at me, but he'd asked another question

  that it wouldn't be safe to give a non-specific answer to. The man

  might be temporarily flustered, but he wasn't likely to be stupid; too

  many artful evasions would be bound to set him thinking. Instead of

  registering his question in any way I scrambled out of the lump chair

  and backed away from him in mute, wide-eyed fear, hoping I wasn't

  pushing the act too far. I fully expected to back out the door into the

  corridor, but found myself startled for real when the door didn't slide

  open behind me. I'd been wondering why Dameron had been so casual about

  leaving me unaccompanied and unwatched, and now I'd accidentally gotten

  the answer. Being locked in annoyed the hell out of me, but for the

  sake of the performance I was putting on for Valdon, I couldn't let it

  show.

  "This is ridiculous," Valdon muttered, straightening slowly Out of the

  chair, seeming annoyed. "You're act as though I'm about to attack you.

  My self-control is really a lot better than that - I haven't attacked a

  woman in months."

  He grinned a very attractive grin to show he was just kidding, but I couldn't afford to chuckle in answer the way I wanted to. I gave him a

  sickly smile to show I was trying, and put a shaky hand to my hair.

  "I know I'm being silly, but I can't help it," I said in a very small

  voice, sending him a pleading look. "The way you were looking at me,

  the way you talk - I'm just not used to it. Do you think you can go and

  see what's keeping Dameron?"

  To say I was trying to get rid of him was an understatement, and I was

  expecting him to be more than happy to g0 - but things didn't work out

  that way. A deeply frustrated expression flashed briefly across his

  face, and then he was looking apologetic.

  "I already know what's keeping Dameron, and I'm afraid I have to stay

  here," he said, very sincere compassion clear in his tone. "I've got to

  keep an eye on the progress of certain of our projects until he gets

  back, and I've got to do it with this terminal. You don't mind sharing

  the room with me for that short a time, do you?"

  He brought the grin back and made it really warm, trying to jolly me

  out of my upset and interest me by turning on the charm. The only

  problem with that was that in another minute we'd be back to chummy

  conversation and more questions, the avoidance of which was my original

  reason for starting that nonsense. I needed him gone or neutralized,

  and if I couldn't have one I'd have to settle for the other; it all

  depended on how gullible he was. I let my eyes begin filming over with

  tears, and plucked nervously at the one-piece suit t was wearing.

  "But I'm afraid of you," I whispered, making sure my voice came out

  ragged. "I've never been this close to someone like you before, someone

  who has actually worked among uncivilized barbarians. You keep looking

  at me the way one of them would - I'm going to cry hard, I just know I

  am!"

  I sniffled a little, finding it damned hard not to burst out laughing

  at the stricken look that replaced his well-practiced grin. Most men

  were sensible enough to ignore blackmail tears, but every now and then

  one would come along who turned to quivering jelly at the first choked

  sob and/or glisten of moisture. I was almost ashamed to go on taking

  advantage, but he'd had his chance to bail out and hadn't taken it. It

  was too bad, but business was business.

  "Now, now, you don't really want to cry," he said, looking as though he

  wanted to come closer and put his manly arms around me - but didn't

  dare. "What if I promise not to look at you the way one of them would?

  That would make you feel better, wouldn't it?"

  "I don't know," I snuffled, sounding absolutely forlorn. "Maybe - maybe

  - if you didn't look at me at all -"

  "That's a good idea," he agreed with enthusiasm, turning completely

  around to look at me over his shoulder. "This is better, isn't it?"

  "You're still looking at me," I pointed out with the same quiver in my

  voice. "And you're much too close. And you sound so - so - overawing."

  "All right, all right, I'll take care of it," he said, that close to

  growling. I wasn't sure there was such a word as overawing, but he was

  still trying to keep me from being overawed. he turned his head

  completely away from me, stalked up to the wall directly behind

  Dameron's block-chair-terminal arrangement, then spoke to the wall.

  "This had better do it for you," he said, making sure not to turn

  again. "I've never been very good at melting into polycrete."

  "Oh, that's perfect," I gushed, with a slight grin. "If you can only

  stay like that until Dameron comes back, I'm sure I won't cry."

  "You have no idea how much those words mean to me," he muttered,

  folding his arms across his chest to signal an end to the conversation

  that frightened me so much. I laughed without sound as I eased myself over to the second lump chair and then into it, finally stretching out

  to prop my feet on the block Dameron had done so much with. I would

  have put Valdon into the room's corner if I hadn't thought that would

  be pushing it, but seeing him standing in front of the wall like a

  naughty little boy was almost as good. If he hadn't been considering me

  a helpless little flutterhead of a female he never would have gone

  along with my insistances, so he deserved whatever he got for that as

  well as for being too nosy.

  Another twenty minutes or so passed with Valdon shifting at the wall

  but doing no more than that, a pleasant silence surrounding us that let

  me go on with developing my campaign against Dameron. I was ready to

  pull my feet down if the termi
nal signaled for Valdon's attention, but

  the interruption never came and Valdon never turned. I was finding it

  hard to believe that a grown man could be put to a wall and kept there

  with such a pack of nonsense, but that's the way it went until the door

  to the room slid noiselessly aside and Dameron stepped in. he stopped

  in the doorway to stare first at Valdon and then at me, and a look of

  confusion settled on his broad features.

  "What are you two doing?" he asked, sounding and looking bewildered.

  "We were waiting for you to get back," I answered, looking up at him

  without moving even though Valdon turned immediately away from the

  wall. "You certainly took long enough."

  "There was more involved than I thought there - I still don't

  understand." Dameron's bewilderment was about to turn into annoyance.

  "Why is Valdon standing near the wall all the way over there, while

  you're - what the hell is going on?"

  "Nothing's going on," I assured him, putting my feet down and standing

  up to face him. Valdon was staring at me without saying a word, but I

  had more pressing matters to think about. "Why don't you and I take a

  little walk and see to that chore we were discussing earlier? It won't

  take long, and then you can concentrate on Narella without any

  distractions. And there are a few other very pertinent advantages I'll

  be glad to point out on the way. You might say it'll be an offer you

  can't refuse."

  I gave him an impatient grimace, but before he could answer, another

  precinct was heard from.

  "I could be mistaken, but it sounds as if you're over your bout of

  shyness," Valdon observed, his deep voice having intensified. "Or is it

  just those of us who have really worked with 'uncivilized barbarians'

  who make you want to cry?"

  "I'm very unprejudiced," I said, looking over my shoulder at Valdon's

  annoyance. "If the situation calls for it, I'm willing to shed a few

  tears for anyone. Are you feeling cheated because I didn't make good on

  the threat?"

  "She threatened you?" Dameron demanded of Valdon, still trying to

  figure out what was going on. "What did you do to her?"

  "I - 'overawed' her," Valdon answered dryly, as he stared at me. "I

  made her so nervous by the ferocious way I looked at her and talked to

  her that she almost had hysterics. I had to promise not to look at her