CHAPTER 7

Gerald

The next two years were quite busy, but in terms of Spirit's life represented a necessary interstice. She entered the Jupiter Navy's basic training; Jupiter citizenship was not necessary for this, and indeed it was a route many immigrants took to facilitate citizenship. Hope entered officer school at the same time, and about the time he made O1, she entered officer school herself. Training was tough on both levels, but she had little trouble with either, because her soul had been hardened as a refugee and her mind and body had been trained aboard the pirate ship. The requirement to patronize the Tail did not bother her either; she was long accustomed to weekly sex with indifferent men.

Actually she had come to know the men of The Hidden Flower quite well, and had prevailed on Hope to arrange for lenient treatment for the survivors: one year's imprisonment followed by service in the Jupiter Foreign Legion, where they could earn immunity from further punishment if they merited it.

Bruiser, by special dispensation, was allowed to enlist in the Navy, provided he kept his nose clean. She made it a point to meet him once in the Tail, just for old times sake.

"God, kid," he said when he recognized her. "I love you."

She knew it. "You saved my life; I gave you back yours. We won't meet this way again; I'm going to officer's school. But I do care for you in my fashion."

"I love you," he repeated as he climaxed in her. She knew she had given him a gift that he would cherish indefinitely. Not the sex, for that was always available in the Navy, but the contact. He did love her, knowing they would never have a social relationship.

They did not see each other again until a year later, when she, as an officer, brought him into her brother's forming unit. They did not speak of their former association, but she knew his loyalty was guaranteed. He became her informal bodyguard, when she needed one.

Hope, as an O2 lieutenant, made contact with one Lieutenant Repro, a drug addict with no future in the Navy, who nevertheless had a dream of the perfect unit. He had a list of the best possible officers for it who were not otherwise committed, and urged Hope to assemble that unit. The first target was Lieutenant Commander Phist, a whistle-blower who had blown the whistle on a billion dollar cost overrun, whose Navy career had of course been destroyed by his honesty. He was thirty five years old and on the verge of retiring from the Navy.

Hope discussed it with Spirit, as he did anything of consequence. She was the lowest of officers, an O1, but that had nothing to do with their relationship. "I need to get Commander Phist's commitment to my unit," he said. "He is the best logistics officer in the Navy. Repro points out that though he ranks me by two grades now, mine will rise while his will not. But until I rank him, I can't bring him in, even if he should want to come, and I'm not at all sure he would be interested in someone's dream of a perfect unit.

So this seems impossible to put together. What can I do?"

Spirit had an answer. "I will fetch him for you."

He shook his head doubtfully "How?"

She smiled. "Just give me a little time, Hope."

Thereafter she oriented on Commander Phist, learning everything about him. He was a good man, an outstanding officer, well worth recruiting. He had absolutely no future in the Navy--unless Hope was able to reverse the blacklist. When she was ready, she sent him a message: May I meet with you on private business?

Ensign Spirit Hubris

Evidently bemused by this contact from space, as the phrase went, Phist agreed. Spirit took a taxi rocket to the spinning administration bubble that was his station, and made her way to the complex where he was posted. She reported to his office in uniform, but took along a civilian outfit. She intended to make an impression on him, and she had a fair notion how to do it.

Commander Phist turned out to be a tall, handsome, well formed man, the soul of courtesy. He was efficient without being pushy, and did not waste time on small talk. "Lieutenant, I admit I am perplexed by your wish to meet me. Is there some small problem I can help alleviate?"

She smiled. She had not tried to mask the scars on her face, or her truncated finger; she intended to be honest with him throughout. "My business is of a somewhat personal nature, and may require considerable reflection on your part. I can express it in one minute, but would prefer to express it in an hour or a day, in a less formal setting. I would greatly appreciate it if you would humor me on the presentation, though not on your decision."

He reflected only a moment. "What do you know of me?"

"Everything that is on the record."

"Does this affect my career?"

"Yes, in part."

"I know nothing of you. Show me your power."

She held up her hands, demurring. "Please sir, not here."

"Will you trust yourself in my private apartment?"

"Yes."

"Then I believe I can free the afternoon for your presentation. Will that suffice?"

"It may, sir."

He smiled. "You intrigue me. But I trust you already know that I have very little influence on Navy policy."

Just in case she were some kind of agent seeking military favors. "Yes, sir."

They walked to the street level where his personal floater was parked. Gravity shielding did not work on spin-gee, so the vehicle did not literally float; it had wheels. But truly floating vehicles were so common on planets that the designation had spread more generally. They rode to his apartment complex, which was not fancy. Gerald Phist was evidently not much for personal display, conforming her research on him.

But his apartment was reasonably spacious and quite well kept. He was meticulous in personal habits.

She appraised it at a glance, liking what she saw.

"May I change to civvies, sir?"

"As you wish."

She stepped into his toilet cubicle and put on a blue dress. She let her hair down and tied it back with a matching blue ribbon. She applied foundation makeup to her face, hiding the scars. Finally she donned white gloves, the left one with a stuffed finger. The whole procedure took very little time; she was well familiar with this particular transformation.

She stepped out and walked to the center of the room. She twirled, letting her skirt flair decorously. She was slender, but her legs had ripened nicely. "This is the artificial me," she said. "I will change back if you prefer."

He studied her with obvious appreciation. "Why should I prefer?"

She sat in the chair opposite him and crossed her legs so that some thigh showed. "Because my appearance and manner may distort your judgment."

"At this stage I am not clear whether your business is professional or social in nature."

"Both, sir."

"I am now more than intrigued."

"I will show you my power now, sir, if you wish."

"I believe you already have. You have transformed from a battle scarred ensign to a lovely woman."

He had obliquely agreed receive her presentation. She gave him the blunt summary: "My brother, Hope Hubris, wishes to assemble an ideal military unit. You are the best logistics officer extant, and he would like to have your association, when this becomes appropriate. Because you outrank him at present, this is not yet feasible. I am here to obtain your commitment. This is a business matter, in support of my brother, who is my galaxy. I am prepared to marry you and make you as satisfied in that respect as a man can be."

His mouth had not dropped open, but his features had gone still. She had impressed him, all right, but not necessarily positively. "This is more business than I anticipated," he said.

"I want there to be no deception as to my nature or my mission," she said. "I can not promise you love, but I can promise you the semblance of it for the duration of our association, which will be as long as you choose it to be. But I would like to say also that I believe you will find my brother worthwhile, perhaps more so than me, and that he may in due course be able to improve your career. We need you, Commander, and we are prepared to pay our way."

He frowned. "I think I am not for sale in quite that manner. But I confess that your personal appearance is appealing to me, I assume by no coincidence."

"No coincidence," she agreed.

"However there is more to a woman than appearance. I would like to know more about you personally."

"The one minute summary is that I was a refugee from Halfcal, witnessed the destruction of my family and companions, was captured by pirates, and after four years was able to rejoin my brother and enter the Navy. It is the kind of background that leads to survivalist traits. I am a hard woman, but a loyal one."

"You would do anything for your brother."

"Yes. I am here for him."

"Tell me about Halfcal."

"Sir, do you mean historically, culturally, or my participation in it?"

"All of them. Call me Gerald."

She flashed him a smile. "Thank you, Gerald. Stop me when you tire of detail; I don't wish to bore you."

"I think you know how not to bore me."

She smiled again. Indeed, she did know. He had lost the early love of his life when his career foundered, and had not taken a regular woman since. Spirit had disposed herself to resemble that woman in subtle manner. Her dress, her style of hair, her smile--all were roughly reminiscent, considering that the woman had been Saxon rather than Hispanic. "Halfcal echoes Haiti on original Earth, whose people were descendants of free slaves that revolted against the French in the 18th century, during the rein of Napoleon. French buccaneers took over the west side of the island of Hispaniola and harassed the French until they gave up in disgust and let the revolutionists have it."

"What of the original inhabitants?"

"Those were the Taino, American Indians, who welcomed the explorer Columbus but died out because of European illnesses like smallpox and the brutal treatment by the invaders. The French then brought many thousands of black slaves from Africa. There were fifty or more slaves for every Frenchman.

Eventually these slaves revolted and threw the French out, naming their land Haiti. But that was not a happy conclusion, even for the slaves; there were racial tensions between mulattos--that is those of mixed white and black ancestry--and the blacks. Halfcal was colonized by those descendants, and by some from neighboring regions, a renewed melting pot. Our situation mirrored our origin; there were border tensions between Halfcal and the Hispanic Dominant Republic. Thus my family lived in a border city, and is Hispanic rather than mulatto."

He seemed interested, but she decided not to leave it to chance. She got up and went to sit beside him.

When he looked at her, she learned forward earnestly, showing more breast than before. She was seventeen, and now fully formed. She had no picture of her sister Faith at that age, but Hope said she was similar. She would rivet the gaze of a man, when she tried, and she was trying now. "So racially and culturally I am Hispanic. But we ran afoul of an aristocrat, and had to flee the planet. That was our mistake; the pirates--"

"I know about pirates," he said, gazing into her bosom. He really had no choice. "Their tentacles extend well into Naval supply procurement."

"Yes, they prey on refugees." She frowned, remembering the horrors of the refugee bubble. "But I think you would not care to hear those details."

"Yes, I would."

So she told him, but the telling crept up on her, especially when it came to the loss of her father and then her mother. She had blocked those memories off for years, but the bitter edge was still fresh when she reviewed it. "I apologize," she said. "I am unprepared for this particular narration."

Then she was in his arms, not by her decision, and crying against his shoulder. "Damn!" she said. "I don't like to cry, especially not in public. Especially not now."

"I apologize."

She was startled. "Sir?"

"Gerald."

"Gerald. Do I misunderstand? I have bored you with my pain, and wet down your shoulder. You should be angry."

"Spirit, I wanted to see the genuine you, under the pretense. I did not mean to hurt you. I apologize for leading you on."

"This is not what I had in mind. I have ruined the effect."

"I appreciate the effect. You are a most attractive woman. But I prefer to keep company with a genuine person."

"I am not sure of that. I have maimed men. I have killed. I have been the woman to an entire ship of pirates. My core is grief and bitterness. I am ugly inside. There was no need to burden you with that."

"Then let's leave that behind. Tell me of your brother."

She cheered almost immediately. "He is smart, and honest, and courageous. When there is a difficult scene, he has such nerve he can face down a pirate or an officer. He can read people, understanding their natures. And his effect on women--"

"You pause?"

She smiled ruefully. "Women love him. They all want to do his bidding, to be near him, to have sex with him. It's like an aura he carries with him, even when he was young. And I--am jealous."

"Jealous of his magnetism?"

"Of his women."

There was a silence. Then she got up and went to clean her face. When she returned, Gerald had changed to civilian clothing, and looked like any man on the street.

"I believe I am twice your age," he said.

"Does it matter?"

"I think not. If you still wish to associate with me, I am amenable."

"You have just seen me at my worst. Are you sure?"

"My career is going nowhere. I am neither young nor virile, neither bold nor wealthy. You obviously have the ability to fascinate any man you wish to. Are you sure?"

"Yes!"

"Then so am I."

She nodded. She lifted the hem of her skirt. "Do you wish to--?"

"It is tempting. But perhaps not appropriate at this time."

"As you prefer." She kept a straight face, but she was hurt.

"Am I missing something?"

"No, you are a sensible man. I am the one who has foundered."

"I assume that having won your case, you are ready to return to your unit."

"Yes, of course." But her hurt remained.

"I fear I have offended you."

"No, not at all."

"Or failed you in some other manner. I ask you to tell me how, for you have made a considerable impression on me."

"No failure. I am the one out of line."

"Please tell me, Spirit."

She took a breath. "I came to persuade you to join our unit, in spirit now, in reality later. I came prepared to win you by my body if not my logic. I find that you are a nice man. I am not used to nice men."

"You have had brutal experience," he agreed. "This is one reason I do not wish to require you to do what does not derive from your own preference."

"I--I did not mean to expose my own emotions. You have been courteous and kind. You have seen my depths and not been repelled. I wish we could--"

He shook his head. "I do not have your brother's ability to read people. I think you will have to tell me exactly what you mean."

"I want you to desire me beyond the point of politeness."

"Spirit, I do! But--" Then he reconsidered. "The men you have known--they leave you alone only if they lack interest."

"Or if they are forbidden to touch me. I have had sex with many men; it was not really a matter of choice.

The desire was theirs rather than mine. Now--now the desire is mine."

"Spirit, if I relax my discipline, I will become like the men you have known. I thought to spare you that."

"Don't spare me that."

He paused only a moment. "I will desist when you tell me to." He came to her and embraced her.

"I won't tell you to." She kissed him. The passion rose up, and the kiss deepened. She knew it was in significant part a product of her savage emotions evoked by her memories, positive and negative. But she wanted him to possess her with abandon.

They moved to the bedroom alcove. "Undress me!" she panted, and put her hands on his clothing. He obliged, and soon they fell on the bed. She was on top, pinning him down. She wrapped herself around him, seeking his member, setting herself on him and around him. "Take me!" she gasped as she took him, feeling her climax starting before his.

The sexual aspect was soon done, but the emotion lingered. "Do you mind if I continue to kiss you?" she asked.

"I do not mind, but I am bemused. Normally the girls of the Tail are not interested in any continuation."

"Nor have I been, elsewhere," she confessed.

"I am pretty sure it is not my average body or my indifferent personal magnetism."

"You do want candor?"

"Always."

As she had known. "I come to you on behalf of my brother. I studied you, doing my homework: your history, your likes and dislikes, your philosophies. In the course of that research I discovered a man I liked very much. You are not like those I have known, in so many ways. I became taken with the idea of you before I ever met you, and I know that I want you in my life. My mission is to recruit you by offering you a package you will not care to refuse: my body, my loyalty, and the career my brother may be able to offer you. But it has become personal; I also want you for yourself. I think if you decline to join my brother I shall have to leave you, to seek some other man, but I think I could love you, and I do not readily love anyone. I know I am not in your class, and that is not a matter of age; your entire existence is apart from what I have known. You know this, even if you can not read people, even if you did no research on me. I know that you could obtain a woman of your class. So I have perhaps just this day, this hour to possess you, and I can't help myself; I must have all I can of you, for fear there will be no tomorrow."

"I am cautious about love."

"And if you loved me, and our circumstances changed so that our relationship was no longer feasible, I would leave, as she did. I wish I could deny that." She did not need to clarify who the "she" was; it was his former love.

"It is that simple?"

"No! It is that complicated. My brother roomed with a woman as an enlisted soldier, and when he became an officer and she did not, he had to leave her. They had agreed that love was not part of their relationship, but they both hurt, and I know that if they were not in love, they approached it. I think I can not afford to love you, or you me, but I think it will happen anyway, at least for me, if we associate. Such is my desire for your company that I am prepared to find myself in love with you, without expecting reciprocity, for such a period as we associate. This is not a wise course for me, but neither is it wise to deceive myself. Viewed objectively, it is a paltry offering I make to you. I would have made the association even if I disliked you, and perhaps that would have been better. As it is, it is a treacherous course for us both."

"A treacherous course," he agreed. "Yet why do you believe I would not love you in return?"

"Your love is already taken, and when it passes, you will be reluctant to give it elsewhere. You will not give it for a body, or for return love. Only for a woman who is worthy and willing to commit completely. I am neither."

"The limit on commitment I understand; it is the Navy way. But the unworthiness I do not understand."

"I am in essence a pirate lass, and before that a non-Saxon refugee. These are not your worlds."

"Yet you may be more woman than any I have met before."

"No. I do what I do for reason, and that includes the sexual aspect. I am not a feminine creature, though I will emulate one if you wish."

"That is not what I said. The girls of the Tail are highly sexual, and can be feminine. They lack intelligence, discipline, and integrity."

"Those are masculine traits."

He laughed. "Perhaps with your background you would think so."

"Yes."

"I will make you this compromise: in public, with or without me, be the smart, hard woman you are. In private, be the soft, loving woman you also are."

"The emulation," she agreed.

"If you think it is that."

"I do think it is that." But he had shaken her. She kissed him again, and realized that her face was wet. "I suppose I could be mistaken."

"I will keep company with you," he said. "This will require us to register as a sexual couple, to abate the need for the Tail. We shall have to arrange to meet for that at least once a week. No larger commitment is implied."

"No larger commitment," she agreed.

"But neither is it denied."

"Thank you." She was not being ironic; he was opening the portal to the deeper relationship she desired.

"We shall give it time to jell," he said. "This is the sensible course."

"Yes."

"But I must say that I find myself as intrigued with the idea of you as you are with the idea of me. I never anticipated such an approach by such a person, but it occurs to me now that I may have been too restricted in my notions of women. There can be diamonds amidst the refuse."

It was a nice analogy, for her background could fairly be considered refuse. Spirit doubted that she was in any sense a diamond, but she liked the notion of being separate from her situation. Gerald was accepting her as she was. "Thank you," she said again.

"Now perhaps we should register, and be seen together."

"Gladly."

"However, there may be a complication."

"They are harassing you in little ways," she said.

"Yes. They are trying to encourage me to leave the service. It is never too obvious, but they may discover a pretext to interfere."

"I will handle it."

He shrugged. "As you wish."

They cleaned up, dressed in their uniforms, and went to the nearest personnel office. "Lieutenant Commander Phist registering as a sexual correspondent to this woman, Ensign Spirit Hubris," he said.

The clerk took their names and verified their prints. Then he looked directly at Spirit, who had arranged to look severe in the military fashion, and had not covered up her facial scars. He kept his eyes on her but spoke to Gerald. "This is irregular, sir," he said.

Gerald frowned. "How so?"

"This woman is obviously not a sexual creature. That suggests a commitment in name only."

"I can not choose which woman I want?"

"Sir, it is known that you want only one woman. The navy does not support tokenism."

"Tokenism!" Gerald was evidently too surprised to see what Spirit saw: this was an aspect of his harassment, part of a continuing campaign to drive him out of the Navy. Spirit's research had established its existence, and she recognized the pattern. They wanted to force him to do what he disliked, using the common Tail.

She stepped into the fray. "Summon your superior," she said to the clerk.

"That is not required." Then, after a significant pause, he added "Sir."

Spirit's knife was in her hand, its point touching the man's nose. "Are you refusing to obey an order by an officer?"

The clerk was not so dull as not to realize he was in over his head. "Nosir!" No break between words this time. He touched a button on his desk.

Spirit put away her blade, removed her military shirt, and let down her hair. She faced the officer's aperture as she efficiently applied spot makeup by touch. Gerald faced away, tacitly disengaging from the proceedings. Possibly he had a notion what was in the offing.

The aperture opened and a lieutenant senior grade appeared. He had not yet gotten his mouth open for an imperious query before he spied Spirit, standing straight and proud in her well-filled military bra, her gaze smoky from beneath aggressively tangled locks of hair, her facial scars gone, her mouth accented by bright lipstick.

She gave him no time to catch his mental balance. "Sir, this rectal martinet claims my liaison with this fine officer is tokenism, a commitment in name only, because I am obviously not a sexual creature. I challenge this assessment."

The lieutenant of course knew that his clerk was honoring the Navy's private policy of harassment against a whistle-blowing officer, but at this moment this was clearly unfeasible. It wasn't just that Spirit was outstandingly female, but that she was so clearly eager to fight. No small office wanted the kind of public scene this threatened to be. That was one reason Spirit had come prepared. Had she dressed civilian she might have been challenged as an opportunist or prostitute.

"I think he meant that an officer of your qualities does not normally associate with one of the Commander's qualities," the lieutenant said somewhat lamely. Beautiful women generally avoided career-dead men.

"I am a red-blooded woman who can have any man she chooses," Spirit said, shaking her hair artfully across her face. "I choose the most decent, honest, and courageous officer in the Jupiter Navy. Do you have a problem with that, Sir? Show me your power."

And what a scene that would make, if the news-media got hold of it, for Commander Phist was a hero among civilians. The lieutenant backed off, literally. "Approved," he muttered to the clerk. He retreated through his aperture, and it closed behind him.

Spirit quickly put her shirt back on and jammed her hair in a wad under her cap. Gerald turned to face her, keeping his face straight.

The clerk made on entry, then touched a button. Spirit recognized it as the mute, cutting off the recording of this interview. "Sir, may I speak off the record?" he asked.

"Speak," Spirit snapped.

"Damn good show. Well played. Congratulations."

"So it's not your personal blackball?"

"No sir. The commander's reputation is excellent among enlistees."

She smiled graciously. "Thank you."

"Maybe he is finally getting some of what he deserves. You popped my eyeballs, sir." His hand hovered near the mute button; obviously it could not remain tuned out long, lest the gap in the record arouse suspicion.

"Thank you," she repeated.

He touched the button. They were back on the record. "Your liaison with the commander has been approved, sir," he said formally. "There may be another time." The implication was that the office would make further difficulties if it could.

"If so, you may regret it," Spirit said coldly. Her threat was obviously directed at the clerk, so that no one would suspect the nature of their private dialogue.

Then she took Gerald's arm, and they departed.

Back at the apartment, Gerald finally allowed his military bearing to relax. "May I kiss you, Spirit?"

"Any time!"

He did so. Then he held her slightly away from him and looked at her as if reappraising her qualities.

"May I fondle you?"

"How far do you intend to go?" she asked, smiling.

"As far as you allow."

"I thought we had already done that. There is no requirement for twice in a week, let alone in a day." She was teasing him as she undressed.

"This time it is of my volition rather than yours."

"Gerald, if you want it ten times an hour, you are welcome. But I am curious: is it merely physical?" She sat on his lap.

"No." He accepted her proffered bare breast.

"A reaction of the moment stemming from a small victory in the field?"

"In part."

"A suggestion that there is a greater potential in our relationship?" She repressed her desire to take over the sexual process; this time it had to be his initiative, not hers.

"Yes." He kissed her breast.

"Do I need to say how happy that makes me?"

"No."

She followed his lead, and soon they were on the bed again, and in the throes of a more extended and lingering act of lovemaking. She tried to school herself not to expect too much, for potential was not actuality, but the prospect of winning his love thrilled her. She had taken a calculated risk at the personnel office, knowing that she could surely win her point, but might alienate Gerald in the process. Now he had a better notion of what she was capable of, and it seemed he had reacted positively. That was a great relief.

When the sex was accomplished, he surprised her again. "May I continue to kiss you?" he asked.

That was what she had asked him before. "You may, but I am bemused. Normally men go to sleep."

"So I have done, elsewhere."

"Your kisses imply developing commitment."

"You desire candor?"

And they had completed the inversion. "Always," she agreed.

He kissed her, and indeed it was not a sexual gesture despite their situation. Then he got serious. "I have some questions you may find awkward."

"I fear the answers may be awkward, but you shall have them."

"Is your brother like you?"

"No, not really. We are both Hispanic refugee orphans who have seen truly ugly things, and we love and understand each other, but our strengths and weaknesses differ. We complement each other."

"How so?"

"Hope is idealistic, and he thinks a lot, trying to understand everything philosophically, and often succeeding. I try merely to understand the situation of the moment, so that I can control it. He writes down his experiences periodically; I do not. He is like a fine actor who can play a scene brilliantly, improvising when he has to, but normally others will write the script."

"You did not say that he is ambitious."

"That is because he isn't."

"Then why does he want an ideal unit?"

"That is the dream of Lieutenant Repro. The man is an addict, and his career is stultified, but he has conceived the perfect unit, and believes my brother can implement it. You are the first step in that implementation."

"Yet no ambition there?"

"His ambition is to extirpate piracy from the Jupiter Ecliptic, perhaps from the entire Solar System. This unit offers an avenue."

"There must be something you have not yet told me about him. Please amplify. Why do you support him so completely that you will put your entire life and future on the line for his whim?"

Spirit considered, not certain how much of an answer was feasible. "I would prefer to avoid that discussion."

"If I am to associate, I need to know why. I have had bad experience in the past."

Indeed he had! "Then I must answer. My brother has two, maybe three special qualities. One is his ability to read people, as I mentioned. He knows whether they tell the truth and what their nature is, so he can't be deceived except by one he loves; then his talent is nulled by his own emotion."

"Can you deceive him?"

She hated this. "Yes."

"No shame there."

"His second quality is perhaps a result of the first: his effect on others, as I also mentioned. He compels deep respect in men, and love in women. Any woman who associates with him more than in passing would gladly do whatever he wishes of her."

"Including sex?"

"Especially sex," she said shortly.

"Would you?"

So that was what he was after. She refused to lie about it. "I did, one time."

"I do not wish to misunderstand. What did you do?"

"I committed incest with him, when there was no other woman."

He paused a moment. "When?"

"When I was twelve, and he fifteen."

"I think then that your guilt is limited. You were too young to understand."

"No. I understood. I desired it."

"The fact that a thing is consensual does not necessary mean it is understood. The ramifications--"

"I understood," she repeated.

"But you did not do it again."

"There was no opportunity."

"I think I am coming to understand the depth of your commitment. Is there anything else?"

"You wish to know the worst?"

"Yes."

"My brother has sieges of madness. He can see visions, he can do things he does not know about."

"Such as having sex with his sister."

"Yes. But normally he is completely rational. I--I try to protect him from stress that can madden him."

"And helping him to fulfill his dream protects him."

"Yes."

"I think your brother is dangerous."

"Oh, no, he would never do deliberate evil! His intentions are the best."

"That is the most dangerous kind."

"I don't understand."

"I pray you never do. Spirit, you do share his traits to a degree. You are intelligent and motivated, capable of what some would call madness, and you can influence people when you try, even against their will. I saw that today at the personnel office, and here in my apartment."

"I am rational, with the discipline to do what has to be done. That is not the same."

"Yet it is similar. I feel it myself, and I am not readily influenced."

"I offer you sex and passion and the hope of an improved career. Your rational decision is to take what is offered."

"Had I been rational in that manner, I would never have blown my whistle."

That set her back. He was right. "I concede the point."

"But you do have some power, for I have been moved to cater to you since you first approached me. I have tried to resist it, but I must now concede that I see in you the capacity to replace my lost love. This is why I have questioned you in uncomfortable detail; I do not wish to be hurt again."

"I can not promise not to hurt you."

"But you can promise never to do it by your choice."

"I do so promise."

"And your brother is more than you, in this respect."

"Yes."

"I will associate with your brother's unit, to the extent feasible. But I gather it is really you who will make unit policy. Suppose I differ with you?"

"Then we shall thrash it out in a private top level meeting, and a majority vote will decide the issue. Or my brother will. But we must not allow any single issue to become a wedge between us."

"I agree, with the exception of a matter of conscience."

"Agreed. Your conscience may become our guide."

He kissed her again, as he had been doing throughout their dialogue. "I think a third sexual completion is more than I can manage at this time, but will you remain the night with me without that pretext?"

"You can fail to have sex with me ten times an hour, and I will remain with you as long as you wish."

He laughed, and she laughed with him, though it was not exactly humor. She had no desire to leave him.

She remained the night, and thereafter was with him whenever it was feasible. Fourteen months later she married him in a military term ceremony, to endure as long as both wished it, or as long as both remained in the Navy. She was then eighteen, and he thirty six, twice her age. It didn't matter. He had not yet met Hope Hubris, who had been away on a special mission. It took them some time, even after marriage, to speak of love, but as their relationship solidified, they did so.