Blue Light of Home (7 page)

“Do not presume to know my mind again,” Vala said in that midnight swordfighting voice.  “We are not addressing the woman’s concerns, but my own.”

“I-I—”

“While she is here, she is dually in my service and your employ, and I expect her to draw a wage.  There are no slaves in the Empire!”

“No, sir!  Yes, sir!”

“Then you will remove the hold you have placed on her resources.”

“I…I can talk to—”

“Have you been wasting my time?” Vala cut in frostily.  “I asked to speak to the man responsible for her arrangements.  Now I hear that you must talk to someone else.  Again, you have misled me, human.”

“Why does she need money?!” the man shrilled out.  “For Christ’s sake, she’s in space!”

“It amuses her to purchase games.”

“What, Battlehammer?”  The man laughed again, just as hysterically and now a little meanly as well.  “She’s complaining about losing her
Battlehammer
account? We can’t let her play that! Try to understand, she could be talking to anyone, saying anything—”

“Then you admit—”

“
I’m not admitting anything
!”

Now it was Vala’s turn to pause.  For perhaps ten seconds, Skye heard nothing but her own pulse drumming in her ears and the shaky rooba-rooba of the voices in that sweaty, smoky, Earthbound room.  Then, without emotion, Vala said, “I have just annihilated one of your island countries.”

Explosive babble.  Skye recoiled and stared at the wall in disbelief.

“Silence,” Vala said evenly, speaking right over the top of the panic on the speakers.  “I have not.  But remember how easily I might.  Do not interrupt me, human.  And do not raise your voice again.  I am done with hearing that.”

“I’m sorry,” the man said, so hoarsely that she wasn’t even sure it was the same guy.  “I didn’t mean it.  I—You’re shaking things up down here, you just—”

“I?  I am merely voicing concerns which demand redress, and as demands go,” he went on, beginning to sound just the faintest bit on edge, “these are ridiculously simple.  You have suspended my assistant’s finances without cause, which in addition to being a gross infringement of her rights, also places the burden of keeping her entertained fully on me.  I am not here to entertain her.”

Skye stepped back from the wall and stared at it.  Of all the numbing, unpleasant, and frightening things she’d heard tonight, that was somehow the worst, the most wounding.  Even hearing him say he’d blown up an island wasn’t that bad, because she’d known even as he’d said it that he wouldn’t actually do it, not just because someone cut him off mid-sentence.  But this…this sounded like something he meant.

Skye backed up to the bed and sat.  She could still hear him, no longer clearly enough to make out more than a word here or an answer there, and no longer caring what conclusion he reached.  She sat and stared at her hands where they rested on her knees and just let time pass, until she heard his footsteps out in the hall.

He never knocked and he didn’t knock now.  He just paced, being loud and obvious, wanting her to come out the way she usually did because going in to talk to her was so far beneath him, but everything he did was supposed to be the center of her whole world.

It had almost felt like that this morning, when she’d thought he’d cleared a console for her so that she had a place of her own, and not just so she’d stop bugging him with conversation.

Skye stayed where she was.

Pacing, pacing.  Finally, he went to the exercise room and worked out for a few hours, pausing every so often to peek out into the hall.  Then he showered, recycled the water, sterilized the shower-stall…came out to stand in front of her door again.

She lay down on her bed and didn’t speak.

He went back to the main room, and maybe he started to work, but in just a few minutes, he was up again and stalking down the hall, this time to his own room.

Skye glanced at the light above her bed just in time to watch it come on.

He never played fair.  Never.

She got up, because she had to.  She didn’t dress in her slinky nightgown for him.  He didn’t really want her ‘services’.  She walked the dozen or so paces to his door and opened it.

He was right on the other side—waiting, glaring, fully dressed.  “I am never going to understand you,” he snapped.

“I’m sorry,” she said tonelessly, her face carefully composed.  “What can I explain?”

“Stop that!”  He stalked away from her as far as the bed, then spun around and said, “What the hell is the matter with you?  Weren’t you listening?”

“Yes, I was.”  She raised her chin slightly, but kept her calm.  She was a mask, she told herself.  A porcelain mask.  “I heard you call me duplicitous and dishonest.”

His alien face smoothed out in shock, then furrowed in exasperation.  “That wasn’t about you, that was about him!  That wasn’t even about him, that was just gaining leverage.  I was trying to help you.”

“Were you?  Or were you just making sure I amuse myself from now on?”

His mouth dropped open, then snapped shut.  He raised one hand and smacked it down over the point of his pointed head and stayed that way for a while, his eyes squeezed shut and sharp teeth bared.  “I have to say things a certain way,” he said finally, barely moving his jaw.  “It is purely political. The Empire must never be seen as bowing to the will of a weaker planet.”

Her mask cracked.  “That makes it okay for you to call me a liar?  And a...And a pest!  You made me happy this morning!  Really, really happy!  But I wish you’d never done it if all it was for was just to…to shut me up!”

“You misunderstood!”

“Well that’s never going to happen again,” she said, pushing at her eyes, the dry eyes in the face of her porcelain mask.  “Because I’m all done trying to make the best of this.  I’m just…here to serve you.”  She looked at him, her heart numb in her chest and her arms limp at her sides.  “Where do you want me?”

“You’re acting like a fool!” he exploded. “Do you want to know why I gave you that terminal? I did it so you would sit with me during my work-shift instead of sitting in your room!”

“Bull!” The audacity of the lie even provoked a shaky, unhappy species of laughter out of her. “Bullshit, even! You only did it so you wouldn’t have to listen to me talk anymore!”

“I listen!”

“You never talk back!”

“
Men don’t talk to women
!” he roared. He wrestled visibly with his self-control when she flinched back, paced shortly beside the bed, and then stopped facing away from her. He gave her nothing but his broad back and the barest thread of a growl running through his words when he said, “When a woman of the Empire is called to serve, it is a point of pride to anticipate her man’s desires and provide for them intuitively. When such a woman talks about her day, she is asking her man what he wants her to do with it. When she asks what he thinks, she is really asking what she’s supposed to think.”

“So she’s a toady,” Skye said, still angry, but beginning to be confused also. “It’s a whole empire full of sycophants. Congratulations.”

“Never! The women of Vaaj are strong and independent! She submits to show her gratitude to the men who protect her! She reflects his thoughts and his will to make him welcome when he comes home to her! I know it isn’t the same here,” he snarled, swinging around to glare at her. “That is why I don’t tell you what to think, what to do! I’m showing you respect!”

“No, you’re ignoring me!” she insisted, but all the force had gone out of her voice. She watched him while he paced again, his hands snapping open and closed, and when he finally managed a modicum of quiet, she said, “You never talk? Never?”

“They have their own society. We have ours. They take care of the cities and we take care of them.” He glared at the metal walls that cased them in. “There isn’t much I can do to take care of you here. I can’t give you a courtyard at the rear of my house or hire someone in to scrub your floors. I can’t even give you food that you enjoy. But I could give you a computer terminal and I could take back your resources.”

“By calling me a liar!”

“You were supposed to know I didn’t mean it,” he said irritably.

“How the hell am I supposed to know that?”

He stopped pacing and looked at her, all the anger in him slowly eclipsed by surprise. Then, as close to hesitantly as he ever came, he said, “You’re supposed to know
me
.”

Skye wanted to laugh again, but couldn’t find either the humor in the situation or the meanness in herself. Instead, she spread her hands. “How? By giving me the silent treatment for two months? Why does it always have to come to something like this before you explain anything to me? I hate arguing with you, Vala! I want to be friends and you just freeze me out!”

That threw him. He stared at her for a while, then turned his back on her again and stomped over to the bed. “If I was good at dealing with people, I wouldn’t be here, would I?” he grumbled and sat. He was quiet for a long time. Then he said, “I thought I was being friendly.”

“By telling the whole planet you think I’m duplicitous and dishonest? I mean, what am I supposed to believe, Vala? Your ‘respectful’ silence, or the only words you say?”

Again, he seemed stymied. Time stretched out, leaden and uncounted.

“Then I’m sorry,” he said.

It was her turn to blink and stare. He didn’t turn around.

“I thought you didn’t make mistakes,” she said finally.

“It wouldn’t be a mistake with anyone else but you,” he shot back, tight and frustrated. Then he sat quietly for several seconds, and added with difficulty, “But it is you. And it was a mistake. I didn’t…mean to hurt your feelings.”

“Oh.” She couldn’t quite hold on to her anger in the face of his stiff-backed apology, couldn’t even keep looking at him. “Well…I may be over-reacting.”

He snorted, which was obviously alien for ‘Yes. Yes, you may.’

“I get so tired of not knowing what I’m supposed to be saying to you, or doing, or anything.” She trudged over and sat down beside him. He continued to stare straight ahead, but shifted one arm to make a little more room for her. She looked at her feet and his side-by-side on the floor and said, “Everything just seems to turn into an argument. It’s not your fault—at least, it’s not
all
your fault. I mean, I may not be duplicitous and dishonest, but I am stubborn and contentious, I guess.”

“Perhaps you should be punished,” he said, and gave her half a smile. When she didn’t return it, he raised his hand, hesitated, and placed it on her knee. “I’ll talk to you.”

It was a concession for him, and by his tone, a large one. Hearing it should have made her feel better. Instead, it made her feel worse. “I’m not very good at this first-contact stuff, am I?” she sighed. “You’re going to be pretty sick of me before the end.”

“Again, you presume to know my mind.” His hand moved up her thigh and squeezed. “No first-contact comes easily. You’re handling this very well. I’m proud of you, and—” Squeeze. “—I forgive your outburst.”

She smiled for him. It was a weak effort, but she wanted him to see her trying, since she couldn’t say anything as gauche as, ‘I forgive you too’.

The silence just kept stretching.

“Perhaps I
should
punish you,” he said again, no longer smiling.

“Believe me, I’m sorry enough.”

His hand moved again, up and around to cup her hip. “You are no woman of Vaaj,” he said. “You require my help to feel forgiven.”

She started to protest and then stopped before she even managed the first word. Maybe he was even right. She did feel bad, and she wanted to prove it, not just say it. Inasmuch as spankings could be good for anything, they were good for that. “Where do you want me?” she asked, surrendering.

“Do you see?” He pulled her to her feet, his smile back and only a little smug as he took her to the side-table and turned her to face it. “You feel better already. Show me your remorse, Skye. Tell me why you submit to me.”

Her fingers clenched on the tabletop. “Do I have to?”

“Yes.”

“But you always—”

“Take down your coverings.”

Interrupting her with his command, just as he’d done with the man down on Earth, paring away the distraction of her argument and forcing her to remain accountable. Strangely, it didn’t upset her. If anything, it was a little embarrassing, and besides, making him scold her wasn’t really showing remorse, was it? Ducking her head, Skye unfastened her jeans and pushed them down, then her panties, even more uneasily. He’d always done that part, even after all this time, and she liked it that way, liked not having to take the responsibility for her vulnerability.

She was submitting. Not for the first time maybe, but it felt like the first time.

“Tell me why,” he said, once she stood bared from waist to ankles and shifting nervously before him. His voice behind her was cool and sure, completely in command. It made it easier.

“I blew things out of proportion,” she admitted. It was hard to say, maybe as hard as it had been for him to say he’d made a mistake. “I picked a fight with you over a few words. I should have given you the benefit of the doubt, especially when...oh heck, I could see you were trying to do something nice for me. I over-reacted and I ruined it. I’m sorry.”

He grunted in a pleased way, just once, her only warning before his hand came down. He struck fast—right cheek, left cheek—and was done with the second before she could even process the sting of the first. Then he waited, letting her nerves wake up, letting her anticipation build, letting her remember what these really felt like. Her buttocks clenched…and slowly relaxed. Immediately, his palm cracked down in a volley of rapid-fire slaps, each one sufficient to send her hips bucking up against the table.

She couldn’t stay quiet for these and couldn’t hold completely still, but he simply stopped and waited until her gasping, “Ow-ow-ow!” refrains and squirming hops had run their course. He didn’t chide her, didn’t order her into position. She was the one who was supposed to be sorry. She gripped the table with even greater determination, braced her feet as far apart as her bundled jeans would allow, and forced her bottom to relax.