The Alien Trace [Cord 01] (26 page)

    O'as flipped the page and read another section:

    " 'I can't tell anyone about it. They'll say I'm crazy-the letters say so, and the others laughed when I said there were things in the tunnels.' "

    "What does he mean by 'letters'?" O'as asked herself. " 'It's a trial sent by Providence to test me. If my faith is great enough it can't hurt me. I've got to keep doing my job and pretend I'm not frightened. If I tell everyone what's wrong, they'll ship me offplanet to a hospital and take my brain apart. Everyone here will laugh at me for not doing my duty and having faith. I wonder if it will come up here looking for me.' "

    Cord, reading over Garatua's shoulder, saw the man's deterioration in his handwriting. It had been precise, easy to read even for Cord, who was not yet familiar with script. Now the words sprawled across the page. If O'as had not been reading aloud, Cord doubted he could have deciphered the diary. She turned another page. "Ah," she said triumphantly. "Here's our answer."

    " 'Someone knows. Another note was under my door when I came home from work. Got to try harder to be calm. If they drug me I'll be helpless-it could get me then. Tomorrow I'll bring the cutter with me.'

    "Well," said Garatua, "That's that. There's more, but I can read it later. There are one or two more places here I want to check, and then we can go."

    "Your investigation is completed, then?" Cord asked. Certain points still seemed obscure to him.

    "Not quite. I'd like to get a look at the poison-pen letters he received and find out who sent them. Let someone start that in a community as isolated as this, and it's bound to lead to trouble. Pars may have been half cracked to begin with, but I'll bet it was the letters that pushed him over."

    Cord nodded agreement, then was startled to hear O'as say, "Now we pay a visit to Julia McKay." At his expression, she explained, "Since Lion was religious it makes sense to think he went to a missionary for advice. Besides, it's important that no mystery be attached to his death: this port is cut off from civilization-Terran/human, anyhow-and things get magnified out of proportion in isolation. If the pressure builds and rumors start, this port could go off like a string of firecrackers."

    O'as did not speak again, and Cord did not intrude on her thoughts, verbally or otherwise. Out of self-preservation-and habit-his shields were now up all the time. This was an unthinkable insult among Mehirans, but among the uncontrolled violence of the Terran minds, Cord would go mad. The drawback was that the shields prevented him from finding his would-be assassin.

    Julia admitted them to her unit, greeting them with an inquiring and obviously puzzled smile.

    "Lion Pars killed himself this afternoon," O'as said abruptly. "Did he ever come to you for spiritual counseling-or whatever you call it?"

    Julia's eyes went wide. "Lion killed himself? Oh, no…"

    "He wounded several others. He went berserk in the dining room." Garatua waited for a response.

    "You aren't surprised, are you, Julia?" Cord asked, when she did not speak. It earned him an approving nod from the security head.

    "No, I'm not. Here, sit down," Julia invited. O'as sat on the chair, and Cord and Julia took places on the bed. "I suppose you want to know about him. He came to my services, of course. Like my own sect, the Zen Anabaptists place emphasis on group worship. He also came to confess, or 'share' as we call it."

    "Confess what?"

    "Nothing of importance-the small deviations from righteousness of a person with no great sins or great virtues. But lately he did not come to confess so much as to talk. He needed someone who would listen to him."

    Garatua frowned slightly. "Anything not covered by the seal of the confessional?"

    Julia hesitated. "Many religions require that a chaplain maintain professional secrecy, but exceptions are permitted in some cases. My own religion leaves it to the discretion of the minister."

    O'as waited with what was, for her, patience.

    "I don't think it can do poor Lion any harm to tell you part of what he told me," Julia decided. "Maybe it will help you to understand."

    "Go ahead."

    "He was always rather nervous, but more so in the past month. He was frightened to be alone in the tunnels where he worked."

    "Oh? What did he think was down there?" O'as phrased the question casually.

    "He imagined there were monsters." The word "imagined" was accented. "I think he realized that it was all a product of an unhealthy mind, but when your heart is pounding and you're trembling and sweating with fear it might be hard to remember it."

    "So there wasn't really anything to it but craziness."

    Julia smiled. "He was a nice little man, but he should never have gone to work for a trading company. Lion was afraid of aliens. He should have stayed on his own world, surrounded by other Zen Anabaptists and no aliens at all. Or else he should have had psych counseling to cure him of it."

    "And when did you last see him?"

    "It must have been the day before yesterday-yes, after his shift he came to the chapel."

    "Did he do or say anything to indicate that he was reaching his breaking point?"

    "No. It was obvious he wasn't in good shape mentally, but if I'd had any clue that he would become violent, I would have insisted he see the doctor."

    "Did he mention receiving a letter?"

    "No-but there hasn't been a ship in port for some time, so he couldn't have gotten one recently."

    "I meant a letter or note from someone within the spaceport."

    Julia shook her head; the auburn hair rippled over her shoulders, and Cord admired the way light sparkled over it.

    "I don't think he said anything about one. But his mind was taken up with his fears. Is there anything else I can tell you?"

    "No, I guess that wraps it up. Everyone agrees he was out of orbit and he finally blew up. You know what this means?"

    The question was addressed to Cord. He tore his attention away from Julia and raised his eyebrows inquiringly at O'as.

    "Lion feared aliens. You're the only alien ever to stay inside the port-and you've been here almost a month. The same month Lion went over the edge. He was the one who tried to kill you-and he was completely familiar with the ducts and tunnels."

    O'as stood up to leave. "Give me a call," she said pointedly to Cord, "when you have the chance…"

    Once she was out of the door, Cord put his arms around Julia. She returned his embrace and squeezed him.

    "You're safe now," she murmured. "I'm sure of it."

    Cord stroked her glorious hair; his hands moved downward. Julia purred deep in her throat and ran her fingers lightly over his muscled arms. "It's been so long."

    "For me too," Julia acknowledged.

    The material of her jumpsuit shredded under his strong fingers as Cord fumbled with the fastenings. It was lucky that it was disposable.

    Julia laughed. "You make me do things I didn't think I'd ever do."

    Cord helped her out of the tatters. "Does that mean there are some positions left we haven't tried?"

    Julia pulled at his tunic. "Let's find out."

    They lay side by side on the soft bed; Cord touched her pale smooth skin with his rough tongue and traced intricate patterns with it across her ample breasts. His organ had emerged from its pouch and was uncurling. Julia moved away from him. He was about to protest until she shifted her position so that they were reversed head to toe.

    Gently she took him into her mouth, her tongue rolling about, gently probing, teasing. Cord moved her left leg over his broad chest and bent his head. Her alien musky scent was an intoxicating perfume from another world. His rough tongue went to work; soon she was writhing, grinding her pelvis into his body, under his own expert probing. Even with his shields up, he could feel Julia's desire.

    When they could stand it no more, Julia shifted position again and lay on her back. Cord loomed above her, his engorged organ larger than ever before. He molded himself to her heaving body and slowly began thrusting. Julia moaned and clutched at him. His tail came under him and probed for the second opening; it inched in slowly.

    He held his upper torso away from hers but entwined his legs with hers, holding her fast. Then with a maddening deliberation, he alternated slow thrusting. He wanted the pleasure to last forever.

    Julia began to make growling noises; then she moaned, she purred, she fought, she bit him. Finally his thrusts picked up momentum, both organ and tail smashing into Julia's soft flesh while she tried to impale herself on him with equal fervor. Cord let go as Julia was peaking; their colliding bodies spasmed in unison.

    They lay there, gasping for breath. Julia sighed with satisfaction. "Your life may have been in danger, but it's your tail I'd really miss." At his expression, she hastily added, "But the rest of you is important too."

    They laughed and lay back in each other's arms. Cord nibbled on Julia's human, nonpointed ear. "I'm still hungry."

    "Is it dinnertime?" she asked innocently.

    "Who's talking about food?" He left a wet trail of kisses from her neck, along her shoulder, over her breastbone, and down to one impertinent nipple, poking up at him. "I've been confined in a small room with nothing to do but think about making love."

    She looked at him seriously. "And not thinking about revenge? Not thinking about putting together your infernal device?"

    Cord looked away. "I swore to my ancestors that I'd track down my parents' killer. As for the machine, I can't remember the final connections." That was the story he and O'as agreed upon; it came out without thinking. He certainly trusted Julia by now.

    "What does the doctor say? Will your memory come back?" Julia gazed at him with worried eyes. Cord loved her deep, dark eyes, like pools of night.

    "He says I'm fine… physically. Here, let me prove it to you."

    He stood up and pulled Julia upright too. Though she was not as tiny as Tanna, the girl from the party, he sat her astride his powerful legs. With her legs spread apart and around him, there was no obstacle to his entering her again. Then, so impaled, he tucked her feet over his calves and crouched down. She was his complete prisoner, unable to get away. His organ, which had shrunk to normal, was now able to probe her in a different way. In true Mehiran fashion, it touched her in delicate, feathery strokes as he controlled its slow, insistent probing. It probed just at the lips of the opening and deep within her. Julia shuddered at the pleasant but odd sensation. Before it began to swell and straighten, he could use it to touch any part of her that he desired.

    Using his strength to support her entire body on his muscular thighs, he made love to Julia until she was wild with passion, alternately trying to drive herself deeper onto his organ or fighting desperately to get away from it. He kept thrusting without a sense of time, until they'd both come again and again, their sweat-slicked bodies shuddering at just a mere touch.

    Julia finally dressed and went to buy some dinner. She brought back an assortment of packets, and they ate sitting cross-legged on the bed. She used the com-screen to punch in entertainment viewing-the first he'd had a chance to see, now that he could relax and not worry about dying.

    He slept with Julia that night. They were exhausted from loving, so they talked of many different things until they fell asleep. For the first time in a long time, Cord was content.

    

    

    The night wind was good on his face and in his nostrils. There were enticing scents in the rich air. Cord dreamed he was running over the marshland and scrub toward the city, leaving the spaceport far behind. There was something peculiar about his gait-he seemed to have an extra limb or two-but he couldn't see his legs. It didn't seem important-he had to get to the city.

    He loped into parkland. He recognized it and yet it was new to him. The enticing scents were much stronger here: the aromas of life.

    His running slowed to a walk. He cautiously approached some dense bushes. A couple lay twined beneath sharp green leaves that parted as he walked, ungainly, toward them. They turned their faces toward the rustling, to see the one who was so rudely breaking into their passion. Cord could see them clearly now: two young Mehirans, naked except for identical love-knots, woven into their braids and adorned with tiny golden beads.

    They screamed almost simultaneously, the girl in soprano, the boy in tenor. Instead of rearing back in mutually shared fright, Cord pressed forward. Their raw emotions filled him, sustained him, more strengthening than food or drink. He reached for them with huge, clawed hands/paws that slashed across the colors of their screams…

    Cord sat bolt upright, sweating, his heart pounding. He groped for Julia and made a strangled sound. She was not at his side. The room spun around him, and then a light snapped on suddenly from an adjoining space.

    Julia emerged, naked, from the washroom and ran toward him. "What's the matter? What's wrong?"

    "A nightmare," he managed to croak. He lay back on the perspiration-soaked pillows, and Julia stroked his head.

    "It's all right," she crooned. "I'm here."

    But it wasn't all right. In the back of his mind, Cord knew it would not be all right until the last pieces of the puzzle were solved. Like the other nightmares he'd had, Cord felt he'd been sharing the mind of a killer. Lion was dead, so a killer was still at large. Julia had called Lion a poor little man; Cord closed his eyes and pictured Lion's bloody body on the cafeteria floor. It was the wrong shape, the wrong size-his attacker had been a huge, boxlike human. What if Lion hadn't blown his parents to smithereens, hadn't tried to poison him, hadn't tried to bash in his brains? What if the real killer was still in the spaceport?