Mind Guest (44 page)

“Just talented, I guess,” he grinned, really amused by my reaction.

“Want to see it again?”

“No, thanks!” I answered as fast as I could get the words out. “Once will do me for a while!”

Valdon was chuckling in his own voice, something that would normally have annoyed me, but my mind had begun working too fast for anything as petty as annoyance to have a chance. If looking like Bellna would he an asset in my work, having someone who could look like anything he pleased would be ten times as valuable. No worrying about make-up or false whiskers, no worrying that someone who knew the person who was being impersonated would come by and upset the whole plan.

Partnering with someone like that would let me do just about anything I had to, and there was only one thing that might interfere with the plans I was formulating.

“Tell me something,” I mused, taking a deep, satisfying drag on the cigarette. “It’s fairly obvious that I shouldn’t have been as trusting as I was with Dameron, but what sort of man is he basically?

If he gives his word about something, is he likely to keep it?”

“Certainly,” Valdon nodded, looking somewhat puzzled. “He only forgets about decency and fair play when the project is involved.

What have you got in mind?”

“Oh, nothing much,” I demurred, lying flat on my back to blow smoke rings at the ceiling. Dameron and I had some bargaining ahead of us, and it might be better if Valdon knew nothing about it-until the proper moment. Interesting times were on their way back again, and it would be fun to see just how interesting they could get.

I would have gone to see Dameron immediately, but the clinicians weren’t as through with me as I’d thought. Valdon’s visit was interrupted by the appearance of three of the medics, and the base’s second-in-command was figuratively thrown out so I could be gone over. I was well rested and in a fairly good mood so I didn’t make too much of a fuss, but I couldn’t help wondering what would have happened if I’d been in the middle of apologizing to Valdon more intimately when they’d walked in unannounced. The three clinicians were completely red-faced over my having taken off the body suit they’d found me comfortably in Valdon’s arms as well, they’d probably have blown some fuses. I spent the time of the examination grinning at the thought, and when the clinicians were finished with their chore I sent them to Dameron with the message that I wanted to see him.

Word came back that Dameron would be waiting for me in his office, so I got into my original one-piece jumpsuit after finding it in the closet, brushed my hair a little, then went to keep my appointment.

Dameron rose from his terminal seat when I walked in, and came forward to greet me.

“Well, you certainly look better than you did earlier,” he said with relief-tinged joviality. “How are you feeling?”

“Not bad at all,” I answered with a friendly smile. “A lot better than I thought I’d be feeling.”

“You have no idea how pleased I am to hear that,” he said with an easier grin, gesturing me toward my old lump chair while he went back to his blocky terminal seat. “I’d never have forgiven myself if something permanently harmful had happened to you.”

“Oh, it’s the permanently harmful you were worrying about,” I nodded soberly as I made myself comfortable in the lump chair. “I’m glad to see you weren’t worrying about the temporarily harmful-like being captured and slave-trained during a ‘simple’ decoy operation.”

“That was something we couldn’t have known about,” Dameron protested, looking uncomfortable. “We thought Clero just wanted Bellna dead; we had no idea he wanted her for his collection.”

“He wanted her for a pain slave,” I corrected with all the brutality I could put into an otherwise neutral tone. “They started training me as a pain slave, and he was going to finish the job. Do you have any idea what’s involved in that?”

“Now, yes,” he answered, a deep inner illness showing in his eyes.

“If you hadn’t killed him, I would have set a team on the job with orders to use whatever they had to. Even if I knew I’d be replaced here because of it.”

“If I hadn’t killed him, I’d volunteer to go back,” I said, then made a deliberate effort to reject the memories. “But as it stands, I don’t have to volunteer to go back. How are we doing in everything else that matters?”

“Well, Bellna’s with her prince, Clero’s oldest son is fighting to keep the princedom, we’re all back under cover, and your ship is ready for course programming,” Dameron summed up, forcing a smile to get rid of the bleakness that had held him. “Have you decided yet about keeping that face you’re wearing?”

“Yes, and I’ve decided I will keep it,” I said. “You can give me my own voice back, but I think I’ve earned the face and possibly a little something extra.”

“Name it,” Dameron pounced, leaning forward eagerly in his chair, his eyes lighting. “Some piece of Tildorian carving that caught your eye.

Name the piece and where it can be found, and I’ll have a field team after it before you can blink.”

“That wasn’t quite the souvenir I had in mind,” I said, looking vaguely around his office. “It was something I stumbled across in the base, actually…”

“Oh, well, that doesn’t matter,” he said, perking up quickiy after looking momentarily crestfallen. “If it belongs to someone else, I’ll buy it from them for you. No matter what it costs.”

“I’d really hate to put you out,” I demurred, still keeping my eyes generally away from him. “I’m not sure how right it would be, and I don’t want to put you on a spot.”

“You’re not putting me on any spot,” he said with a good deal of confidence and reassurance. “I want to do it for you. I give you my word that I want to do it for you. Anything you choose will be just fine.”

“I’m glad you look at it like that,” I said, finally bringing my eyes back to look straight at him. “The souvenir I want is Valdon.”

“What?” he said, all the confidence and reassurance draining out of his broad face, confusion immediately replacing them. “What did you say?”

“I said I wanted Valdon,” I repeated, keeping him pinned with my stare. “Didn’t you say anything I chose would be just fine?”

“I was referring to inanimate objects,” he said, confusion now fighting with anger in his eyes. “I’d have to check back with Valdon’s home world to find out what price to pay for him.”

“Then do it,” I shrugged, giving him a faint grin. “I don’t expect to be unfair about this.”

“Unfair!” he echoed, outraged. “Now, you listen to me!”

“Don’t get wild, I was just kidding,” I soothed him, waving a hand to cut off the tirade. “I don’t want Valdon permanently, only for a standard year or so, and I have a fair price already ready.”

“Just for the hell of it, I’m going to listen to what you consider a fair price,” Dameron growled, his brows down low over his eyes. “This ought to be good.”

“It is,” I answered with complacency. “For one standard year of his time, I offer one standard year of my own time. I understand you’re in a position to appreciate just how good a price that is.”

“People talk too much around this base,” he muttered, but his heart wasn’t in the complaint. He did understand what I was offering, and the horse trader in him was hooked. I let him think about it in silence for a couple of minutes, and then I rose to my feet.

“I’m sure you’ll find the right time to give Valdon the word,” I said, turning toward the door. “Right after that we can all pay a visit to my course computer. I’m sure you’ll understand if I don’t spend too long a time in fond farewells.”

“Hold it right there,” he growled, stopping me before I took more than a step or two. “This isn’t anywhere near as settled as you seem to think it is. You can’t simply bargain for a year of a man’s life.”

“Sure I can,” I said, then turned back to really have it out. I’d forced Dameron to the arguing stage, which meant the argument was already half won for me. The poor man didn’t have just me to argue with; he was still feeling guilty over what had happened to me during the job he’d given me, and he also couldn’t stop thinking about the trade I’d offered. It finally came through to him that he was doing no more than giving Valdon an assignment for a year which, as Valdon’s superior, he had every right to do. He still wasn’t happy, especially when I refused his counteroffer to let me choose someone else with original Absari blood to save him the trouble of training a new second, but he had rationalized the decision to the point where he could accept it. When the last protest was swept under the terminal, I looked down at the mixed emotions on Dameron’s face and smiled.

“Now that that’s settled, I have one more question,” I said. “Is Valdon completely healed, or does he need more looking after? I don’t want to take him away before it’s good for him.”

“It’s too bad you’re not that concerned about me,” he muttered, then got to his feet and straightened his shoulders. “Valdon is Healed all the way through, and doesn’t need any looking after at least as of this moment. What happens after he gets involved with you is another matter entirely.”

“Such bitterness!” I laughed, patting his cheek in a comforting way.

“Don’t worry, Dameron, I’ll look after your friend for you. If you like, I’ll promise to never let him out of my sight.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” he growled, knocking my hand away. “If you keep your eye on him, I’ll probably never see him again.”

He was so upset that all I could do was laugh to myself and get out of his way. Valdon would do fine with me taking care of him, and I hummed a little as I walked back to the hospital section to collect my belongings.

I had just moved my very few things back to the room in the residential section that had originally been mine and was moving around putting them away, when the door slid open to admit Valdon.

Dameron’s second was not looking pleased, so I assumed that Dameron had passed the word along. I watched my new associate stride across the room toward me, and the thunder in his black eyes was fascinating to behold.

“So that’s what you were up to,” he growled, stopping in front of me.

“And I was feeling sorry for Dameron! Why the hell didn’t you say something?

“I hadn’t completed the negotiations,” I shrugged, giving him a small, friendly smile. “If it hadn’t come through, you would have been ruffled for nothing.”

“And this way I’m ruffled for something,” he nodded. “What if I refuse to go?”

“You’re perfectly free to do so,” I agreed, turning the smile a touch solemn. “But if you do, don’t make any plans that require good health. Dameron wants this deal so bad he’s talking to himself, and if you refuse on your end, all bets are off. I’ll be leaving soon, but he’ll still be here, remembering what he missed out on because of you.

He growled low in his throat, a frustrated look on his face, and then his big hands were on my arms, pulling me closer to him.

“I don’t like being blackmailed,” he said, his voice dangerous as his fingers dug into my arms. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t say to hell with the whole thing.”

His fingers were hurting me, but I could understand how he felt. It was time to mend a few fences if the deal wasn’t to come apart like rotten cheesecloth. I didn’t try pulling away from him, but just looked up into those dark, angry eyes.

“I thought the matter over carefully and found that I needed you,” I said, merely stating the reasoning behind my thinking that had made me start the whole thing to begin with. I thought about adding to it, telling him how useful he would be to me on the job, but the single sentence seemed to do the trick. The hardness left his eyes, his fingers loosened on my arms, and a half smile touched his lips.

“I still have the feeling I’m being had, but I can’t argue with being needed,” he murmured, and just for an instant I had the feeling he was reading something into what I’d said that really hadn’t been there. I almost said something, but he was still talking. “Speaking of needs, I think we need to get to know each other’s real selves a little better. They’re giving me your language in a few minutes so I have to get going, but how about later? Unless you’ve got someone else to blackmail and con.”

At least he was grinning when he said it. I laughed to show I appreciated the comment and said, “No, you’re the only mark I’m involved with right now. Later will be fine.”

He nodded his agreement, remembered to peel his hands off my arms, then left as abruptly as he’d come. I stood and stared at the closed door for a minute, wondering if I ought to pursue the thoughts I’d had about how he was interpreting things, but then decided against it. If it made Valdon happy it made me happy; and happy people made good workers, which would make the Federation happy. With all that happiness things would roll along just fine, and I turned away from the door to finish putting away my belongings, idly thinking about how nice it would be to get home again.

It didn’t take long for Valdon to get the Federation Basic that had been taken from my mind. I spent the time busy myself, getting rid of Bellna’s sweet, girlish tones. I was put to sleep and then awakened, and when I opened my eyes I had my own sultry voice back. I went back to my room, and Valdon showed up just as I was thinking about getting something to eat so we went to eat together. The base refectory was a large room in stark, hungry white, with different sized tables scattered here and there in a neat but patternless arrangement.

Valdon and I sat down at a small table for two, and he began checking out a box the table held. I looked more closely at the box and saw pictures of various dishes, some of which I thought I recognized.

Since all my meals had come on a cart, though, I hadn’t known about the box.

“Name your poison,” Valdon said with a grin in Federation Basic, gesturing at the box.

“That’s not what you’d call up-to-date vernacular,” I laughed. “It’s supposed to refer only to drinking, and is normally never heard outside of tri-v. You really got everything, didn’t you?”

“Only as far as the language goes,” he laughed back. “I don’t think I’d care to try your persona. ”

“Not many people could handle it,” I answered, flicking some imaginary dust from my sleeve. “I tend to be close to one-of-a-kind.”