The Alien Trace [Cord 01] (21 page)

    "What happened?"

    Her anxiety was reassuring in its way, too: someone still cared what became of him.

    He told her briefly, adding, "He isn't a professional-and he's obviously not skilled in hand-to-hand combat."

    "How can you be so casual about it? You might have died."

    "Oh, it isn't the first time I've been attacked," Cord assured her.

    "What?" The color drained from her face.

    "When my family and I worked as Catchers, we all were threatened or attacked occasionally."

    Julia nodded shakily. "I understand. But you are all right now? Would you care to share my room?"

    "Thank you, Julia, but no. I can't take a chance with your life. Besides, I don't want to scare the man away. Next time I will catch him. What I need now is advice. Can you think of anyone who might not be what he seems? O'as Garatua occurred to me as a suspect, since she is very resentful, but I think I'd expect more subtlety from her if she really were guilty."

    "Maybe so," Julia agreed slowly. "I don't know, Cord. I am not well acquainted with any of these people. To them, I'm a missionary, someone who's not a Ten Suns employee, and the next worst thing to luggage. I make myself useful, but I'm not confided in."

    Cord nodded. "Well, you've helped me by letting me talk to you. It's a way of ordering my thoughts."

    "I'm glad you think I'm useful. Perhaps we can get together tonight and I can show you some of my other good points."

    "You've got great points, Julia. And I've got one just thinking about them. I'll call you this evening, all right?"

    "Yes." She smiled.

    

    

    By the end of the afternoon, in a better frame of mind, Cord had finished testing the calmator. This time he took care to leave when the rest left their labs. He brought the calmator with him.

    Hamilton K was in his office, unexpectedly relaxed, his feet up on a desk and arms behind his head. He wasn't even disappointed when Cord explained that what he'd brought was not the telepathy machine.

    "So this little thing tranquilizes people?" K remarked, turning it over in his hands.

    "Yes. It takes effect immediately, so if you are being approached by an attacker-"

    "I understand. Well, I don't know that it's an improvement on the systems already in use. Still, it may have some value. What does it do to someone who isn't rampaging?"

    "The effect is in direct proportion to the target's emotional state. It will relax a normal person and knock out someone who's out of control."

    "Any side effects?"

    "A headache in the latter case."

    "It wouldn't be addictive?" K pursued.

    "No-I don't think so. But-"

    "It may or may not be useful for personal defense. However, as a relaxant it might be a genuine breakthrough. The best tranquilizers available at present are either potentially harmful drugs or else require surgical implantation."

    The bargaining began. Cord rejected Hamilton's first offer on principle. After considerable haggling, they came to an agreement although Cord knew he could have gotten more. He wanted K to remain in a good mood. Cord watched with interest while K recorded their transaction on a computer terminal and then locked the calmator away in a capacious safe.

    "Nothing will happen to it here. And that reminds me," he said. "You had better stay away from the laboratory section for the next four days. During the festivities there will be no one in that wing."

    "Festivities?"

    "Didn't you know? This is the quarter holiday. Starting this evening there will be parties and special entertainments. Only vital personnel will have shifts. You caught me just as I was planning my personal morale boosting. Why not come to dinner with me? I'll take you to a few of the livelier parties afterward."

    "Thank you, but I should call Julia McKay. She is a friend of mind."

    "See her after the parties," K advised. "She won't attend any of them-her religion frowns on immoderation. Of course," he added, "there may be a moderate, genteel party somewhere tonight. But I certainly don't know where it would be. Join her when you're ready for some quiet comfort."

    Cord did not wish to offend K; in fact, he wanted to secure the Trade Agent as an ally, as far as possible. And it would be useful to have an introduction into the social life of the spaceport. Julia, with her ascetic nature and lowly position, would not be nearly as useful.

    The cafeteria was livelier than usual: people were already hanging colored banners on the walls-on the tables too.

    "The kitchen is now programmed to supply a few Mehiran dishes," K told him. "Even fish jelly."

    "That was kind," Cord said, surprised. As the only Mehiran in permanent residence, he missed the taste of familiar food. At the vend-a-meal, he selected the fish jelly, among other items, not only because it was a treat but also to find out how well the kitchen mechanism did it.

    Their trays emerged from the chutes, and K led the way to a table. Hamilton K asked almost as many questions of Cord as he answered. It was like having one's brain sucked dry by a high-powered vacuum pump. However, Cord was adept at keeping his thoughts to himself, so he felt the conversation was mostly to his benefit. He ate the food with relish, finding the robo-chef as efficient as the Terrans' other gadgets.

    His host, he discovered, talked entertainingly and intelligently on many subjects: other species, trading ventures, interstellar politics and crime. Occasionally Cord asked a question. There was a point he had wondered about for some time.

    "Do all intelligent races but mine have space travel?"

    "By no means. Some have interplanetary travel but not interstellar ships. Some worlds that have not developed interstellar travel have bought faster-than-light ships from races that have. Terra invented FTL ships a thousand years ago, but other races had it earlier. And what we really need is the Empire's warp."

    The dictionary he had absorbed left something to be desired, Cord thought.

    "I know the word 'empire,' " he said, "and 'warp' is a term having to do with weaving, but…"

    "But they don't make much sense in this context? Of course, you've never heard of the Empire." Hamilton K sat back in his chair and began. "The Empire is what we call the civilization that flourished about a million years ago, throughout much of this part of the galaxy. 'Year,' I might add, means the Terran standard year, which is about three percent longer than Mehira's. The Empire ended-very suddenly, according to the archaeologists. We've found their traces on many worlds. They were more or less humanoid and apparently not much more advanced than we are-except that they traveled between the stars without using ships."

    In the pause that followed, Cord finally said, "They used a 'warp' instead?"

    "That is what we call it, for the sake of convenience. No one knows what it actually was, but we've never found any indication that they had spaceships-or ground transport, either. Their word for going from one room to another was the same as for going from one end of the galaxy to the other. Also, there are rooms in some of the best-preserved Empire sites which have no entrance. Some scientists believe the Imperials generated their own space warps whenever they wanted to go somewhere. If so, the secret died with them. A warp, theoretically, is a door you can go through to travel from one point to another instantaneously. It's only a theory. Black holes may be warps of a sort, but there is no record of anyone's surviving passage through one. At least, no one has come back to say so, if he has."

    Cord nibbled the corner of his block of fish jelly, which he had saved until last. Both texture and color were excellent- but the strong, salty flavor could not entirely mask a metallic tang. Cord swallowed with difficulty and quickly sipped the wine K had recommended. Well, fish jelly required a deft touch to prepare correctly, and the spaceport kitchen had evidently not mastered the technique. Or-more likely, since it probably had been bought ready-made-it had been stored improperly. Cord left the rest.

    A woman in a skin-tight tube dress-bosom to ankle, with nothing but friction to hold it up-undulated over to their table and greeted K. She invited them to a party she was holding in her quarters.

    "I would love to see your quarters," Hamilton K told her, grinning. "Preferably alone."

    From K's unconcealed admiration of the woman's form, and from her laughter, Cord gathered it was a witticism.

    "Would you like to come along with me now, both of you?" she invited. "I've got to stop and pick up something to drink, but then I'm going to my room to set it up. People will start coming almost anytime."

    "I could come just watching you in that skinny little dress," K responded. "What about you, Cord-are you game for a party?"

    "Yes, thank you. I would enjoy coming."

    "I'll see that you do," his hostess-to-be replied with a smile.

    

    

    Cord was unsure how to dress for a human party. Once out of uniform, the Terrans wore an amazing variety of raiments and adornments. Cord had brought little with him from his parents' dwelling unit, so he finally chose a simple dark tunic belted with leather.

    His hostess-the lithe blond woman in the impossible dress- occupied very spacious quarters. Hamilton K informed him that she was a department head, so her quarters had several rooms and a private office. Nearly every room was filled with humans, laughing, drinking, and openly fondling each other. Now
that
made Cord feel right at home-especially when several human women eyed him appreciatively.

    Hamilton K introduced Cord to a number of Terrans in rapid succession and then disappeared, leaving Cord to fend for himself. A small dark-haired woman, standing to his right, looked up at him.

    "Are all your people tall?" she asked.

    "No," he said. "Are all your people short?"

    She raised her glass in salute. "Touche."

    "Pardon me?" The word meant nothing to Cord.

    "It's an old Earther term for getting in the last word. I guess you shouldn't be expected to know all our languages."

    Cord lifted a tall drink filled with green liquid from a passing tray; it was carried by a buxom blonde who smiled invitingly at him. He smiled back but turned to the dark-haired woman beside him.

    "I've learned quite a bit of Multi-Lang. I'm a quick learner."

    "Are you now?" the woman said suggestively. A wet pink tongue ran slowly over her top lip. "By the way, my name's Tanna. And yours?"

    "Cord. Well, not exactly, but it's close enough to Mehiran for humans to say."

    "Perhaps my tongue can't handle your name, but it can handle other things…" She reached out and touched him, stroking his lightly furred skin. "I heard some interesting things about Mehirans. I was hoping to find them out firsthand."

    "I would be more than happy to show you," Cord said politely, with another smile. Despite the babble in the room, he'd let his barriers down slightly and could feel her strong emanation of desire. "I find the difference between our races quite fascinating."

    "And the main difference…?" prompted Tanna.

    "Tails," said Cord. His own tail was twitching in expectation.

    "You mean you use your tail for making-" Her perplexed look was replaced by calculated glee. She instantly set down her drink and grabbed Cord's hand. "This I've got to see!"

    "Feel," he corrected.

    She dragged him into another room. "Shouldn't we be going somewhere private?" he protested.

    "We are." Tanna led him into yet another room, which was dark and empty. This was their hostess's private office. Inside was another built-in closet, spacious enough for them to fit in comfortably. Tanna was wearing a sleeveless blouse, which she quickly removed. Her skirt, held together by an invisible seam, ripped open quickly. He was surprised to see she wore nothing beneath. But then again, neither did he.

    He could feel that right now her desire was tempered with curiosity, so he removed his belt and tunic, although it wasn't really necessary.

    Her fingers played lightly over his pouch, while he caressed her smooth skin. Her hands roamed over his strong and lightly furred body and then came to rest again between his legs. He could feel his organ stirring in response. Slowly it emerged from the protective pouch.

    In the dim light he could see Tanna's eyes widen. "It's quite… different," she finally said.

    "Yes," agreed Cord, "but it still works in the same way."

    Standing up in the closet, Tanna spread her legs. Cord was about to enter her when the door to the office opened. Tanna closed the closet doors. "Don't stop now," she ordered.

    Entering her was simple enough; he could feel her varying emotions, so he assured her, "You won't be disappointed. I guarantee it."

    As their bodies moved together, his organ grew. Then he probed slowly with his tail. For a moment she stiffened, then relaxed as his tail probed deeper. She was sitting astride his bent legs now, offering no obstacle to any of his thrusts. Though she was already moaning with mounting desire, Cord bent forward and took a brown nipple into his mouth. Then as Tanna writhed with near ecstasy, he alternated thrusting as deep as he could while her muscles contracted in pleasure. She was nearly bucking herself off his legs, so he wrapped his arms around her and continued thrusting until she peaked. Then he came himself.

    She slid down his legs, still holding on to him. "Wow" was all she could manage until her breathing returned to normal. They dressed, and Tanna slid open the closet doors. The private office was now filled with more people, all of whom politely ignored their entrance into their midst from a closet.