Steven Harper - Trickster

Lucia laughed over her wig, a rich, musical sound, and Gretchen snorted from her chair. Harenn gave a small smile as the comb changed the last of Gretchen's "red" hair back to its usual corn silk blond.

"Benny-boy," Gretchen said, "you have a lot to learn about women."

"I dated my share," he protested.

"Three women is not a share," Gretchen said.

"Look," Ben said, flushing, "if you think-"

"Don't get your undies in a bunch. All I'm saying is that you've never dated this kind of woman, okay? She isn't going to call you back. In fact, you need to call her."

Ben shuddered at the thought. "No way."

"She's right, Ben," Lucia said. She set the wig on a stand and put the fluffing pick in a drawer. "Remember, Devin Reap is supposed to be a weak, clingy sort of guy. She'll think it strange if you don't call. I guarantee you she's already set her com-link to route your calls to her voice mail. Leave a message asking when you can see her again, and then call two or three more times over the course of a week. Sound a little more desperate each time, and I promise you won't hear a thing from her."

"If you say so," Ben muttered.

Kendi patted Ben's arm. "Hey, I don't understand women, either. Close your mouth, Gretchen."

"Did I say anything? A single word, even?"

A while later, Ben and Kendi were back in their quarters. Ben's hair, though still fashionably cut, was back to its usual bright red, and he had changed out of the embarrassingly tight clothes into his usual relaxed-looking tunic and trousers. It felt wonderful to lounge on a comfortable sofa in a quiet room instead of leaning over a hard railing in a cacophonous gladiator ring, and it felt equally wonderful to have Kendi's hands moving over his shoulders in a warm, gentle massage instead of with a cold, insistent probing.

"Did I tell you how proud I am of you?" Kendi said.

"Once or twice," Ben admitted, closing his eyes in bliss. "But you can tell me again."

"I'm very proud of you. That was great work, and we wouldn't have Papagos-Faye's key without you."

"Two more to go-Rafille Mallory and Edsard Roon." Ben paused. "Any idea how we're actually going to get in there once we have the keys?"

"Not really," Kendi admitted. "I need more information about Roon, and I'll probably have to interrogate Todd again, see if there's anything we missed. I just wish we had more time. The Poltergeist is due back at Bellerophon in only fourteen days."

"I don't like having Todd on board. What if he escapes? It'd be over for us in less time than it takes to say so."

"We're being careful, Ben. All of us. You know that."

"I guess." Ben closed his eyes, deciding not to let himself tense up during a good shoulder rub. "The paranoid part of me wonders what we've overlooked, is all. He's probably getting pretty bored and restless in there with nothing to do but read."

"I don't feel the least bit sorry for that bastard," Kendi said harshly. His fingers dug deeper into Ben's shoulders and he winced. "As far as I'm concerned, boredom isn't even the beginning of what he deserves. All those women he seduced just to sell their babies." He dug harder. "All life, it makes me vomit just to-"

"Shoulders! Shoulders!" Ben yelped.

"Sorry," Kendi said, contritely lessening the pressure. "Still a touchy subject with me, I guess." He stopped kneading and came around to sit on the sofa beside Ben. Outside, a ship coasted by the window so close that Ben could almost see passengers in the windows before it passed out of view. Ben turned a little and faced Kendi, his own private universe. What in the world had taken him so long to figure out how deep his feelings ran, how miserable he had been whenever Kendi wasn't in his life? Ben rarely talked with his friends about his love life, and most of them, he knew, had quietly assumed it was Kendi's mercurial temperament that made their earlier relationship so stormy. None of them, except perhaps Ben's mother, had suspected that Ben had repeatedly been the one to call things to an end while Kendi's devotion had never flagged. Ben still didn't know exactly why he had avoided commitment for so long. Perhaps it was because he had grown up without a father at home and he hadn't learned how to form solid relationships with men. Whatever the reason, he had gotten over it, and thank god for that. He never wanted to be apart from Kendi again.

"I have something I need to tell you," Kendi said.

"Oh?"

Kendi took Ben's hand and stroked the back of it in a familiar gesture. "I've been thinking a lot lately. I've lost a lot of people I love. My entire birth family. Ara. Pitr. I've been scared a lot lately, scared of losing more people I love. Eventually I'll run out of people, and I'll be alone." He paused. "It occurred to me that I'm going to lose people, no matter what happens. It's an unavoidable fact. I don't ever want to run out of people to love, Ben. I especially don't want to lose you. Those embryos Ara found, your brothers and sisters, are a part of you, and if I have them, I'll always have you, no matter what." He paused. "Ben, I want to have children with you. Eleven of them."

The universe froze. Ben's mind stopped moving, then made a joyous leap, as if he had just seen a rainbow in a stormy sky. He couldn't speak at first, but finally he made himself say, "You mean it?"

"Absolutely. Hey, I have to pass all this Real People wisdom on to someone before I-what's wrong?"

Ben didn't understand the question. For once, everything was completely right. Only when he felt something warn running down his face did he realize he was crying. "Sorry," he said in a thick voice. "You caught me off guard."

Kendi gathered him close. "You never have to be on guard with me, Ben. And really, there was never any other answer I could give."

"We'll have to find a host mother," Ben said.

"About ten of them, come to that," Kendi said wryly, and Ben had to laugh.

Martina Weaver sat on a hard chair, trying not to stare at her brother. She and the others were arranged in a big circle that alternated yellow-clad Alphas and green-clad Deltas. A male Alpha occupied a chair in the center of circle. Utang sat almost directly across from Martina, and he was looking at her as well, though his face was blank.

"Begin," ordered one of the Deltas.

"Uh, I'm not… not sure," said the center Alpha. He was in his forties and ran toward plump. "That is… how do I-"

"The source of all impurity is envy, which creates N-waves in your mind," the Delta said. "Envy of someone else's possessions leads to laziness or greed. Envy of someone else's position leads to ambition and pride. Envy of someone else's food leads to gluttony. Envy of someone else's body leads to lust. What is it you envy, Alpha?"

The Alpha's face grew red and Martina felt embarrassed for him. He clearly wanted to be anywhere but here. Meanwhile, it was all Martina could do to keep her seat. Her brother-her brother — was sitting only a few meters away and she couldn't even talk to him. She wanted to jump up and run to him more than she had wanted anything in her life. It crossed her mind that perhaps she should say something, tell one of the Deltas. But before she could do so, something else-a slave's instincts? — had advised caution. She didn't know all the rules in this strange place, and she had the distinct feeling that revealing her relationship to Utang would be a mistake. So she kept silent and held her gloved hands folded neatly in her lap.

"What is it you envy, Alpha?" the Delta repeated, more sharply this time.

"I envy everyone who isn't sitting in this chair," he said with a weak smile. This drew a small ripple of laughter from the Alphas and hard pokes in their sides from the Deltas.

"The Confessional is not a place for levity," the Delta said. "Confess! What do you envy?"