The Abulon Dance (18 page)

Beny jumped up and flung his arms around the stocky android, closing his eyes in concentration. It was true! He sensed surprise, fear, and finally…compassion?

The android hesitantly put his arms around Beny. “You miss master Eulio?” he asked. “You wish me to…comfort you?”

“Oh my god!” Beny backed away, breathing fast. “I should have known! I should have guessed before. But I’ve been so busy!” Beny continued to stare at him. “What does ‘android’ mean to you?”

“One who serves without question, master. What have I done wrong?”

“Nothing! Nothing at all! It’s not your fault, Dhakan.” Beny sat down behind his desk and put his head in his hands. Dhakan hovered over him, unsure of what he was expected to do. “Call Thar-von Del for me, please.”

It seemed incredible to Beny that he had never noticed before. Now that he knew, he remembered little details that should have alerted him: Dhakan’s very eagerness to please, the times when he seemed actually tired, the fact that he and Eulio covered their nakedness when he came in, something it didn’t occur to them to do at home in front of androids. I wish I had known about this before my little chat with the Chief, Beny thought now, rearranging the piles of paper on his desk. It might have given me the courage to say a few more things that should be said. The words of the Chief echoed in his head: ‘What do we do when the androids break down?’

Dhakan opened the door and stood aside for Thar-von to enter.

“That confirmation has finally come through from Serpianus,” Thar-von said, dropping into a chair.

“Forget Serpianus.”

Thar-von raised one silver eyebrow.

Dhakan poured the hot chocolate.

“Sit down, Dhakan,” said Beny, taking one of the tall two handled glasses.

“But master!” The coppery eyes looked almost panic-stricken.

“Just sit down. Please.”

Dhakan sat, straight-backed and stiff, one large hand on each knee.

Thar-von stretched his long legs out in front of him and looked from Beny to the android, puzzled.

“Have you ever thought much about the androids here, Von?”

“Other than admiring their lifelike qualities, no. I’ve had far too much to do. Why?”

“That’s just it. We’ve all been too busy.” Beny got up and went over to Dhakan. He took the android’s hand in his. He drew the ceremonial dagger he always wore and passed the tip across the outstretched palm. Dhakan looked up at him, pain and confusion in his eyes. He didn’t try to withdraw his hand. Thar-von stared at the ribbon of blood oozing from the cut. He got to his feet to examine it.

Dhakan said, “Are you punishing me, lord?”

Thar-von was angry. “That wasn’t necessary!”

Beny wiped the blood away and curled Dhakan’s thick fingers around his soft scarf. “Did that hurt?”

“Yes, master.”

“I’m sorry. If you were a real android, that wouldn’t have hurt. Do you understand?”

Dhakan shook his head. He looked frightened.

Beny poured a glass of sherry and handed it to him. “Drink this.”

“But master, it is not allowed.”

“I say it is.”

Dhakan took the glass and sipped the wine obediently. Beny perched on the corner of the desk, watching. “Listen, Dhakan. An android is supposed to be a machine that looks like a person, a machine that you turn off and on. You are flesh and blood, not circuits and wires. You eat and sleep, don’t you?”

“An android is just a computer that looks like a man,” said Thar-von. “Do you understand?”

“No, lord. I am an android, but I am not a machine like that.” He pointed to the console. “You never talked like this before, master.” He looked reproachfully at Beny.

“How did you find out?” asked Thar-von.

“I caught his arm when he tripped. I felt…emotions.”

“Now we know what Yonan means by slavery. They must come from breeding farms.”

“I come from Xenuam Plantation. You wish to go there?”

“Yes,” said Beny.

“No,” said Thar-von. “We have enough to deal with, Beny. We can’t afford to get mixed up in this. Send a report to the I.P.A. and leave it at that.”

“They won’t do anything, Von!”

“You, of course, are going to free the slaves single handed.”

“Don’t make fun of me.”

“You’re being unrealistic.”

“It’s one of my more endearing qualities.”

“That depends on the point of view. How do you summon Dhakan?”

“I just…” Beny held up the small, silver cylinder and pushed the button on the end. Dhakan turned his head and looked at him inquiringly.

“It must be some sort of electrode implanted in the brain.” Thar-von shook his head.

“Does it hurt when I push this?” Beny asked anxiously.

“No, master. I just know you want me.”

“Would it wake you up if you were asleep?”

“Of course. It’s the summons.”

“Von, I’m resigning from the bloody damn diplomatic corps!”

“Don’t you think you’d like to wait till Eulio gets back?” asked Thar-von with a smile. “And you seem to forget, in your reforming zeal, that we’re here as cultural ambassadors only.”

“Everyone seems to forget that.” He glanced over at Dhakan who was slouched back in his chair with a wide grin on his face. “That’s very nice juice, master,” he said happily.

“Isn’t it?” agreed Beny.

“If that’s how alcohol affects him, I can see why it’s not allowed. Well, this is your show, Ben. What’s next?”

“For one thing, there go any chances of I.P.A. membership. It’s not a matter of semantics any more.”

“I wonder where they came from originally? They’re physically quite different from the other Abulonians.”

“Well, there’s one thing I can do. I’ll send Dhakan over to the company’s doctor to get the implants removed.” He called in one of the Merculian office staff, gave him his instructions and sent the happy ‘android’ off in his care. When they were alone, Beny collapsed into his high-backed chair. He felt very small against the huge leather cushions. “I think something’s going to happen at the Festival of Dreams,” he said. He told Thar-von about his unexpected visit from the First Minister and the strange warning.

“It seems a reasonable enough precaution,” Thar-von pointed out. “He is in charge of security, among other things.”

“Maybe. But the Chief didn’t even mention it. Besides, I picked up something…odd. I don’t know how to explain it. Sort of like a premonition.” He shook his head. “On the other hand, I don’t know how to read the man. He certainly seems friendly enough. I may be completely wrong. One thing I do know, I can’t put this off any longer.” He took the red communications device out of its special drawer and looked at Thar-von gravely. “It would be totally irresponsible to let any one else come here when we know things aren’t safe. It makes me feel like a failure, calling in the I.P.A. like this, on my first mission, too.”

“Let me remind you that you did not apply for this post. You would only be a failure if you didn’t make the call.”

“I should have done it sooner.”

“‘A boat leaves no wake before the prow’,” Thar-von remarked.

Beny paused and looked at him curiously, recognizing another obscure Serpian proverb. “Hindsight gives one perfect vision,” Thar-von explained. He joined him by the desk and they took turns laying their right hands on the sensitive panel below the row of buttons. A light flashed on and a low hum came over the speaker.

Beny cleared his throat. “Ready?”

Thar-von nodded.

One after the other, they gave their name, title and identification number, followed by the complicated series of passwords that would open the top priority channel to I.P.A. Headquarters.

SEVENTEEN

Triani came to with a loud buzzing in his ears. His back was burning all along one side and his left arm felt as if it were no longer part of him. Carefully he opened his eyes. Everything was red. He blinked. Turning his head, he brought the rest of the hillside into focus. There was something wrong about the angle. A moment of concentrated thinking revealed the astonishing fact that he was upside down.

The process of righting himself was a slow one. It was also painful. Everything was bruised, but nothing appeared to be broken. His ribs felt as if they had been separated and then put back together again. His shoulder was streaked with blood and dirt where the shale had broken the skin. He sat up carefully and looked about him as he rubbed the circulation back into his arms. Eulio lay a little further down the steep hill, one arm flung out. Triani suddenly froze. He held his breath, feeling the cold sweat of terror break out on his skin. His hands tingled. A long, blood-red snake with black and yellow markings was coiled near Eulio’s motionless arm. Its flat, ugly head wove back and forth above the Merculian’s golden skin as if fascinated by the gleaming bracelets.

Triani found it difficult to be rational when confronted with even the thought of a snake. Now he found it difficult to think at all. Without being aware of what he was doing, he started inching backwards up the hill. His movements dislodged bits of earth and stone which rattled down the hillside. The snake raised itself up further and stared about malevolently.

“Holy shit!” he breathed, wiping the sweat out of his eyes. Something had to be done but he was far from sure that he would be able to do it. The very idea of going any nearer to the snake made him feel faint.

Eulio stirred. The snake drew back, hissing. Triani watched, his breath harsh and painful in his chest. He was paralyzed with fear. Eulio moaned and moved his arm. The snake hissed louder. Triani screamed. The noise seemed to push him into action. Grabbing a rock, he sprang down the hill. The snake slithered quickly away. Triani swore and threw the rock after it. He crouched, shaking, beside Eulio’s still figure, waiting as gradually his heart slowed to normal and he could think again. He leaned over Eulio’s unconscious body anxiously and felt his legs and arms and back with his long, sensitive hands, checking for broken bones. Carefully he turned him over and pillowed the blond head on his rolled up tunic. He ripped a sleeve out of his own top and went, crab style on the steep hill, over to the rushing waterfall. Gently he sponged the dirt and blood from Eulio’s cuts and gashes and laid a cool cloth on his forehead. “Come on, you shitty Merculian aristocrat! Wake up!” he muttered between clenched teeth. His own shoulder was throbbing painfully. He wondered what he would do if the snake decided to come back.

Finally, Eulio stirred. His eyelids fluttered, opened. “Well, it’s about time,” said Triani, leaning over to shield him from the bright sun.

Eulio raised a hand in a vague gesture, his eyes confused, searching. He touched Triani’s head and his expression changed from confusion to fear. “Triani? Is that you?” His small hand moved hesitantly over Triani’s face. His lips trembled. “I can’t see! Oh, gods! I can’t see!” His arms went around Triani’s neck. “Don’t leave me! Please don’t leave me alone in the dark!”

“I’m not going anywhere, baby.” Triani stroked Eulio’s back. “Can’t you see anything at all?”

Eulio shook his head. He was trembling uncontrollably. “What happened? Where are we?”

“I was knocked off the shitty animal and you were thrown down this hill. I fell down after you and here we are.” There was no point in mentioning the snake. “Our guides will come for us soon, and then—”

Without warning, Eulio threw back his head and screamed, striking out with his fists at Triani. “Oh god! What will I do? I can’t dance like this? I’ll never dance again! I’ll never see Orosin’s face! Or my family! Oh, help me! Somebody! Please!”

“What the hell do you think I’m trying to do!” cried Triani, attempting to catch his wrists. “Stop hitting me!” He shook Eulio hard. “Ah, shit!” he muttered as his partner burst into tears, staring sightlessly at the sky, his hands clenched tightly against his chest. When Triani tried to comfort him, Eulio shoved him away.

“Why? Why did this have to happen?” he sobbed. He pushed his knuckles into his mouth and hunched his shoulders as he bent over on his knees, rocking back and forth, back and forth.

“Come on, baby. Stop that. There’s no use asking that question about anything.” Triani gently took his hands away from his face and wiped away the tears. This time Eulio didn’t push him away. “Besides, who says this is forever? Merculian medicine is wonderful, you know that.”

But Eulio didn’t seem to hear him. “I won’t even be able to get dressed by myself…or see the colors…or go to the theater. Oh Triani, I’ll never dance again!” He was beginning to shake. Triani winced. Never dance again…. If he couldn’t dance, he would die, simply cease to exist. Dancing was everything to him. He felt a sudden hot surge of dark emotion and moved instantly to shield Eulio from any telepathic contact. He needed all his strength to handle his own emotions.

Triani turned Eulio’s tear-stained face towards him. “Listen to me, Eulio. Listen!” He gentled his hands, his voice. “You
will
dance again. You will. You might not be able to do solos, that’s all. But who wants solos when you can dance with me?” Triani was rubbing Eulio’s back soothingly, rocking him gently in his arms. “It’ll be all right. It will! You and I touch-dance like a dream. We know lots of numbers for the two of us already and you’re good at choreography. Very good. And Nevon likes your work. You could use Orosin’s music, too. Oh, baby, solos aren’t everything. You’ll still be able to dance and that’s what counts. That’s the important thing.”

Triani could sense Eulio beginning to calm in his arms, starting to really listen as his panic subsided a little. As Triani glanced around to make sure the snake was nowhere in sight, he went on automatically patting Eulio’s back, making soothing noises. Sometimes it helps to be a parent, he thought wryly. He wished the two Abulonians would hurry up.

Eulio’s arm went around his neck. “Oh Triani, this is awful!” he whispered.

“It’s a new role, sweetie, but you’ll learn it. You’ve got to dance with me again. I came back to this company because of you.”

“A new role! This is my
life
you’re talking about. My whole life! Don’t you understand?”

Triani didn’t answer. What did he know about Eulio’s life outside the theater? His own world was very narrow. Even the time spent with his little lover was centered around dancing.