Fugitive (41 page)

   "Ralph," Drusilla said ominously. "I will pick out my own dress or I will get married in the nude."

   "What?" Ralph said, clearly taken aback by Drusilla's direct assault. "But you can't possibly—"

   "Ralph," Drusilla said firmly. "Here on Barada Seven, they loaned me a pulse pistol to defend myself and before it was all over, I shot at least one Nedwut bounty hunter—though there may have been more. I'm not really sure if I hit that last one or not."

   Ralph's lips formed a soundless
"Oh."

   "And Jack is going to give me a pistol of my own so I can protect Manx."

   "He needs protection?"

   "Ever seen a man like him before?"

   "Well, no, not in person, but that rock singer, Tycharian—you know, the front man for Princes & Slaves?—looks a bit like him." His expression changed as the light dawned. "Oh, yes, I see! He's the one from Darconia!"

   "They're the same species," Drusilla said with a nod. "Nearly exterminated by Nedwuts and some other nasty folks. I have to be ready for them."

"Your point?"

   "If I can do that much, I can surely pick out my own wedding dress."

   "But what does shooting Nedwuts have to do with choosing the right clothes?"

   "Absolutely nothing," she replied, "but it does give me the right to tell you to"—Drusilla paused and took a deep breath—"mind your own damn business."

   Ralph blinked. "I never
dreamed…"

   "And Ralph," she began.

   "Yes, my dear?" he said meekly.

   "I want to see the receipts for those paintings that 'flew' out of the gallery."

   "Of course, but—"

"And
I want to know just exactly how much commission you took on them. We may need to renegotiate our arrangement. I'll have a family to consider pretty soon, not just myself. I have to be more careful."

   Ralph couldn't have appeared more affronted if Drusilla had slapped him. "Are you suggesting that I've
cheated
you?"

   "No, I just want to make sure no one ever does."

   "B—but, Drusilla!" Ralph protested. "This is so unlike you!"

   Drusilla grinned. "How do you like the new me?"

   "I hardly know," Ralph said faintly.

   "You'll get used to it—eventually." Still smiling, Drusilla leaned forward to terminate the link. "See ya later, Ralph."

***

In the end, it wasn't Ralph or Jack or even Drusilla who came up with the best location for the wedding. It was Larry.

   Having listened to all the discussion and the large number of planets put forth and rejected as possible sites, he came up with an idea of his own. "Hey, Mom?" he began. "Nedwut ships are turned back when they reach Pluto's orbit, right?"

   "Yes," said Jack.

   "But Uncle Trag just isn't allowed to land on Earth?"

   "That's right."

   "If we had him on our ship, he could get inside the Terran solar system, couldn't he?"

   "Yes, but what's your point?"

   "We could have the wedding on the ship!" Larry announced. "People from Earth could still come, we could pick up Uncle Lynx and Aunt Bonnie on Terra Minor—"

   "Or Tychar could pick them up," Jack mused, getting into the spirit. "That rock band of his has a monster of a ship. Have to, considering that some of them are Darconians. You know, it just might work. We could dock the ships together, decorate the cargo hold, and—brilliant idea, kiddo!"

   "And Mom," said Larry. "Remember, you're the captain."

   "So?"

   "On your ship, you could perform the marriage."

   "I hadn't thought of that." Jack paused for a moment, her eyes narrowing as though she was thinking hard. "Do me a favor, Larry. Run and tell Drusilla and Manx your plan. See what they think."

   Larry scampered off in search of the happy couple, leaving his parents alone with the babies.

   Jack looked up to find Cat staring at her in disbelief. "What are you looking at?" she demanded.

"You," Cat replied. "At least, I
believe
it is you."

   "What the devil are you talking about? Of course it's me!"

   "You are letting
Larry
tell them? Not taking it upon yourself?"

   "It was his idea," she said with a nonchalant shrug. "I just thought he should be the one to tell them about it."

   Cat wasn't fooled for a moment. "You know very well they would consider it more favorably with Larry telling them than they would if you suggested it."

   Jack grinned. "Strategy, my dear Cat. Strategy."

   Cat smiled back at her. Sometimes they were obscure, but her methods usually worked to her advantage in the end. That was something else he liked about her; her indomitable spirit. If one of her ploys didn't work, she'd simply try another.

***

Drusilla liked the idea, mainly because it wouldn't give Ralph the opportunity to interfere—not much, anyway— but Manx didn't care one way or the other.

   "You really don't care?" she asked him after Larry left.

   "No," Manx replied, shaking his head. "In my heart it's already done. The ceremony is for the others."

   Drusilla gazed at him, her eyes misty with emotion. It never ceased to amaze her that his simplest words could affect her so profoundly. "You know what?" she said slowly. "I don't think I care either. Ralph can come aboard with his gang of decorators and do whatever he wants." Pausing for a moment, she closed her eyes and envisioned the cargo hold looking like a palace and herself in a gauzy, sequined— "But no way am I letting him pick out my dress."

   Manx laughed, but Drusilla noted the light of specu lation in his eyes.

   "And you can't do it either," she said. "It's bad luck for you to see it before the wedding."

   "Well, we certainly don't want that," he said, pulling her into his arms. "What about kissing the bride before the wedding?"

   "Not bad luck," she replied.

   "Making love?"

   "Used to be something of a taboo," she admitted, "but not unlucky."

   "I'm so relieved," he purred, taking the opportunity to lick her ear.

   Drusilla felt a thrill scatter down her spine, begin ning right where Manx's tongue was touching her. "You know something?"

   "What?"

   "I think you've already had your full quota of bad luck for one lifetime."

   "You think my luck has been bad? I disagree. I think I've had the best luck of any man in existence."

   "Manx," Drusilla said darkly. "Your entire planet was destroyed, your friends sold as slaves, and you've been on the run from Nedwuts for half your life."

   "But I survived," Manx reminded her. "And I'm about to marry the most lovely, kind, adorable, wonderful, loving, sexy, and talented woman in the galaxy. I'd say my luck was pretty damn good."

   Drusilla smiled as she threaded her fingers through his long, silky hair and used it to pull him even closer. "That's my line."

   "You think so?"

   "I know so." Gazing into his luminous green eyes, she whispered, "I love you."

   Manx shook his head. "That's
my
line," he said and then he kissed her deeply, longingly, lovingly to prove it. "I think I've loved you from the first moment I saw you, arguing with Lester about carrying that huge bag."

   "You saw me then?" she said. "Really?"

   "Oh, yes," he replied. "I saw a lot of you before you ever saw me, and if I'd had any idea what would happen, I'd have come running out to meet you right then."

   Drusilla smiled, trying to imagine her reaction to Manx running toward her in all his naked, masculine glory. "I probably would have had a screaming orgasm if you had," she said.

   "Really?"

   "Really, really."

***

It was with a great deal of trepidation that Jack sat in the corner of the living room when the two Statzeelian sisters arrived. Having dealt with their kind before, Jack wasn't surprised when they wasted no time getting to the point.

   "My sister and I are members of a special breed on our world," Lutira said. "One that required many generations of selective breeding to produce. The other Statzeelians have also begun to take control of their bloodlines, but it is a very slow process. Not long ago, we discovered—quite by accident—that the introduc tion of Zetithian genes was very beneficial in helping us to reach our mutual goals."

   Tisana shifted uncomfortably in her chair but remained silent. Jack was muttering under her breath and Drusilla could have sworn she was praying. The three men stood behind their women, but only Cat appeared relaxed.

   Lutira continued. "We will not say where or how we know this, but—"

   "Go ahead and say it," Jack said irritably. "He already knows."

   "And we thank him for his generous contribu tion," Lutira said, bowing her head in Cat's direction. "However, the one bloodline may not be enough. To truly succeed, we require others, and humbly request your help in this matter."

   "Let me get this straight," Drusilla said. "You want to take Manx and Leo back to Statzeel?"

   "No, that will not be necessary," Tash'dree said quickly. "We only require a quantity of semen, which will be carefully distributed." Smiling at Drusilla, she said, "We had planned to bring Manx back with us, if he was willing, but we will not take him from the one he loves."

   "Uh, could I say something here?" Jack said, putting up a hand.

   "Certainly," said Lutira.

   "Tisana and Leo already know the story," Jack began, "but Drusilla and Manx don't. Perhaps you should tell them."

   "I will," said Lutira. "Statzeel was once a war-torn planet—nearly destroyed by the belligerence of our males. We sisters began an effort to breed that trait out of the population, and though we succeeded in producing a superior strain of females, the male line was a failure. Then it was discovered that if women chained themselves to their men, they could calm them by sexual means in almost any situation. This gave us more time and helped us to survive, but though our entire culture began to evolve around this practice, keeping our males chained forever was never our intention. The breeding program continues, but, as I said, it is very slow. The addition of Zetithian and human genes has helped enormously."

   Turning to Cat, she went on, "Your genes appear to be dominant over most others and the children we are producing are essentially pure Zetithians. In addition to that, for our own purposes and to help save your species from extinction, we would like to collect semen from each of the other surviving Zetithian males. We have also followed your suggestion," she said with a nod toward Jack, "and have acquired a diverse selection of human sperm."

   "You're going to wipe out your own species," Tisana pointed out. "Instead of Zetithians becoming extinct, Statzeelians will disappear."

   "The humans are not dominant," Lutira said, "and we will only add their genes with this one generation. The Zetithian bloodlines will also be added only one time, and we will distribute them evenly among the popula tion. We will see to it that all of those children will be male, but what happens after that will be left to chance. If the Zetithian genes overcome our own, it will occur naturally, but whatever transpires, we will then be able to set our males free and still have peace among us."

   Drusilla saw the flaw in the plan and snickered audibly. "Human males are a lot better than they used to be, but if you think they'll all be good boys, think again."

   "I told them that too," Jack said. "They seemed to think anything would be an improvement—and, I must admit, there are an awful lot of assholes on that planet."

   "Still, if nothing else, it would provide a safe haven

for at least some of our offspring," Leo said. "What do you think, Tisana?"

   "I don't mind the idea in
theory,"
she said carefully. "But just how are you planning to collect—"

   Tash'dree grinned. "That will be
your
job," she said. "We will not participate in that part of the plan."

   "Sounds like fun," Drusilla said with a giggle. "What do you think, Manx?"

   Manx hesitated, as though carefully considering his reply. "I owe you my life," he said with a nod toward Tash'dree, "and as long as our children will be treated well—and Drusilla doesn't mind…"

   "Cat's children are already precious to us," Lutira said. "As any others will be."

   "Well, it sounds like you two need to come to the wedding then," Drusilla said roundly. "All the other Zetithians will be there."

   "Just don't tell any Nedwuts what we're planning," Jack said nervously. "We certainly don't need them crashing the party!"

   Lutira smiled. "Telling the Nedwuts is the very last thing I would ever do."

   "You might warn your men, though," Cat said with a mischievous grin. "You would not be doing anything they did not already know about, but—"

   Lutira looked up at him in astonishment. "Our males know nothing of our breeding program!"

   "You might be surprised at what they have figured out," Cat said with a knowing smile. "Females are not the only ones who can keep a secret."

   "You might as well tell them the truth, Lutira," Jack said. "They always find out anyway."

***

The ship was ready, Drusilla's paintings were neatly packed, but there was one last thing Manx had to do before he left Barada—possibly forever.

   "It's like this, Klog," Manx said to the hovering droid. "You hold very still and when you see the fish, you throw the spear."

   Klog's spear was a long spit, normally used to skewer items to be grilled, but even Manx thought it looked far more effective than his own hand-carved version. Drusilla and Zef waited nearby, watching the show.

   Manx held very still, barely even breathing while he waited. As a fish swam into his range, he took careful aim and drove the spear into the water. "See? Nothing to it," he said as he held up the spear, displaying a wrig gling fish impaled on the point. After tossing the fish to Zef, he motioned to Klog. "Now you try it."