anything there. It’ll be a refreshing difference.” “And there aren’t any women in your life?.
Again, that slight pause. “No, no, not at present. I’ve always been too busy to let
anything really permanent develop. Sort of married to my work, you might say.
Yvette had put her hand on his wrist for a reason. As sensitive as she was she could act
as a human lie detector, picking up the small changes in pulse rate, the minute tensions in
the muscles that occurred when a person was ill at ease with what he was saying. It was
a trick she had learned years ago from her Uncle Marcel, the Circus’ magician, to whom
it was an indispensable part of his mentalist act.
What she’d learned from “reading” Dak’s wrist annoyed her. He did not seem to be
directly lying, but at the same time he was steering his way very carefully between the
pillars of -the truth. Not a single thing he’d said had been completely accurate. This
disturbed her, for she’d begun to find herself caring for him quite a bit.
From back in the ballroom the orchestra had struck up another dance tune. Yvette
suddenly found herself impatient with this time and place. “Let’s go back and dance some
more,” she said, taking her date firmly by the hand and leading him in the direction of the
dance floor. He offered no resistance whatsoever.
The two watchers vanished into the shadows as she moved back toward the ballroom,
and that disturbed her even more. Why were they watching me? she wondered. Do they
have anything to do with this case? But they couldn’t have broken my cover this quickly.
Questions swarmed around her mind all evening, refusing to let her simply enjoy herself.
The next five days went by rapidly. For the most part they were very relaxing, with
Yvette spending most of her time in Dak’s company. They conversed in trivial matters,
childhood experiences and gossip about the activities of their fellow passengers. They
played at the shipboard sports, and Yvette had to be supercareful not to let her physical
talents show too much. Their favorite pastime was “free-swimming” in the zero gee
room, a sport far superior to water swimming for several reasons: it could be done in
three dimensions without the heavy resistance of water, there was no drying off to do
afterwards, no special clothing to wear-in fact, free-swimming was usually done
nude-and there was absolutely no fear of drowning.
Yvette was used to freefall, having been traveling through space with the Circus since
she was a baby, but she rarely had the pleasure of enjoying it in a large room where she
could be free to soar and do acrobatics to her heart’s content. She really came alive
while free-swimming, and her exuberance infected all those around her. She twisted and
spun and somersaulted in the air to the applause of her fellow passengers-who had no
idea they were watching the premiere aerialiste in the Galaxy.
“You certainly do that well,” Dak remarked one time as his eyes admiringly tracked over
Yvette’s lovely, svelte body.
Yvette flashed him her warmest smile. “Physical fitness has always been a passion of
mine. My body is my home and I have only the one-I want to take care of it as best I
can.” She spent the rest of that day teaching Dak the basics of her art. He was an apt
pupil, and after only a couple of hours they were performing together in an acceptable, if
not totally polished, manner.
The only thing that marred the blissful perfection of those last few days was the
continued presence of those two shadowy watchers. At first, Yvette noticed them only
when she was together with Dak-a pair of indistinct forms observing them discreetly from
a vantage point where they themselves could only barely be seen. But after a while, as
her relationship with Dak deepened, one or the other of them was with her almost
constantly.
For convenience’ sake, she named the tall one Gaspard and the fat one Murgatroyd, and
tried every trick she knew to bring them out into the open-to no avail. She tried ducking
around corners and doubling back on them, but they were wise to that trick and refused
to be caught. She tried mingling in large crowds and open rooms, but they were equally
adept at mingling and remained hidden while watching her. She was able to shake them
off her trail temporarily several times, but on a closed ship there were only so many
places she could go and they always picked her up again within a couple of hours.
Who are they? she found herself wondering more and more. They’re damned good, I’ll
give them credit for that. Could they be a part of the conspiracy I’m here to investigate?
There’s no evidence to suggest that the mob has advance scouts on the ships coming
into Vesa-but that doesn’t mean they don’t. Whoever they are, they give me purple fits.
It was now the last night of the voyage. Tomorrow the Empress Irene would be docking
on Vesa and Yvette’s real work would begin; but as for tonight, she just wanted to relax
and enjoy herself. She and Dak had a marvelous dinner and their conversation was freer
than any they’d had before. A couple of times Yvette saw a dark thought pass behind her
date’s eyes and he almost came out and told her what it was. But something made him
hold back, and he would change the subject abruptly. Yvette, feeling it was not her place
to pry, said nothing.
After dinner they walked slowly about the ship, arms around each other’s waists, not
saying much of anything. When they came to the elevator tube where they would have to
part to go to their respective suites, Dak invited her to come to his for the night instead.
Yvette hesitated, then turned him down politely, citing her recent widowhood as an
excuse. “As I said, occasionally my Puritan upbringing comes through and surprises even
me. Your offer is tempting, but Carlos’ death was so recent. . . :’ She let her voice trail
off wistfully.
“I understand,” Dak said softly. He turned toward her, gazing down into her beautiful
face, and both his arms wrapped around her. Their bodies were pressed together for a
silent sensual minute before he spoke again. “I’m usually so well spoken that when a
genuine emotion comes my way I sometimes get choked up. This is one of those times. I
know there’s a mystique about shipboard romances, and it’s something I’ve been
consciously fighting -but I’ve lost. Carmen, I think I’m in love with you. Will you marry
me?.
Yvette found herself suddenly with tears in her eyes. “Your speechlessness must be
contagious,” she stammered. “The only thing that comes to my mind is the old cliche that
this is all so sudden. I don’t know what to think. You deserve a better answer than that, I
know, but that’s all I can give you at the moment.
Dak shrugged. “I’m not expecting an answer tonight. Maybe in the cold light of morning
on Vesa we’ll think how silly we were to mistake desire for love. Let’s both just think
about it for a while, shall we?.
“I can’t think of a pleasanter subject to think about,” Yvette replied.
The two stood by the elevator tube for a long minute with their bodies held closely
together, luxuriating in the feel of one another’s warmth. Then Dak bent his head down to
hers and their lips met in a passionate kiss.
Yvette’s whole body was still tingling from that kiss as she went up the tube and then
made her way down the long corridor to her suite. Her mind was in a pleasant haze of
confusion brought on by a conflict between her emotions and her rational mind. Her
feelings were telling her that here at last was a man she could love. She was twenty-nine
years old and still single; among the prolific d’Alembert clan that was considered slightly
unusual. She had had her share of romantic entanglements, but never before had the
magic spark burned so brightly as now: Dak Lehman was handsome, intelligent,
charming, pleasant, wealthy, available, and in love with her. The combination couldn’t get
more perfect than that. It didn’t matter that her father, besides managing the Circus, was
also the Duke of the entire planet of DesPlaines and that she herself was a Lady of the
Realm. There was no stigma attached to marrying a commoner; in some circles, in fact,
it was actively encouraged.
The one fact she could not ignore, however, was that Dak Lehman was not a
DesPlainian. It was not chauvinism but practicality that made that point so important.
Dak’s home planet of Largo had a surface gravity approximately equal to Earth’s, while
Yvette came from a world three times as strong. He could never live comfortably on her