Xora 2 - Dangerous Game
by Brandy Dewinter
Chapter 2 - "Official Business"
"Well, so much for matching your eyes," Titania grumped in my ear as
we left Jonesy's office. Then I could "hear" her shift gears and get one
of her ideas. "Hey, I can just change your eye color to match *this*
uniform instead."
*No you don't,* I said, more by reflex than anything else.
"Why not?" Titania whined. Geez, you'd think she was a kid told she
couldn't have candy before supper, not a member of her societies royalty.
"I am not whining," she whined some more, picking up on my mental
image.
*Yes you are,* I said, then figured out a reason not to change. "If
these Teton people have heard of me, they might have a description. You
better leave my hair and eyes like they were on Machovia."
"Oh! Hmmm, you may be right," she admitted grudgingly.
So I was saved from any further unauthorized manipulations of my body
at least for a little while. When we got back to my quarters, I said, "We
need to go check out this planet. I still think Jonesy wasn't telling us
everything."
"He certainly continued to display signs of duplicity," she agreed.
When we reached my quarters, I called up a briefing file on the
planet Teton. I expected to find indications that they embraced the
same sort of perversions as the Machovians, and my first impressions were
that they had that chauvinistic kink. The scenes in the file showed
a technology seemingly stuck centuries in the past. There were wheeled
vehicles, for goodness sake!
"How did these people ever get accepted into the Federation?" I asked
out loud. "They sure don't seem to have the technology for warp drive."
"Maybe they have some other special skill or something, like my
race does," offered Titania.
"Nothing listed," I said, pointing to the bio classification. "Seems
normal Earth human in all the factors."
Then I found an official explanation, and it all made sense - pretty
good sense, actually. It turned out that Teton was a secondary colony,
founded from the planet Yosemite. The colonization charter established
that Teton owed taxes to the mother planet until the costs of colonization
were paid back. In order to keep from incurring even *more* debt, Teton
had restricted themselves to technology they could sustain with planetary
resources. They understood warp drive. They just didn't choose to use
things they couldn't manufacture and support locally. Even that was not
a fanatic barbarism since the report indicated they maintained
contemporary medical facilities. Other than that, though, they seemed to
be at about the 20th century level for Earth.
They actually took pride in what they considered their "pioneer
spirit" and liked to head into their still-untamed wilderness areas with
minimal equipment, living off the land as much as possible. For
recreation no less! Still, that wasn't so bad when you considered where
Machovian society had ended up. And it justified their interest in
physical fitness.
The next morning I decided to take advantage of my status as a
field agent on assignment by checking out a runabout. That would save
me trying to arrange passage on some ship headed that way. When I got
to the hangar, the admin clerk lost his look of boredom in a hurry.
"What can I do for you?" he asked.
"I need a River-class runabout for some official business."
"Oh, I'm sorry, but the runabouts are all already assigned," he said.
*Well, that's a disappointment,* I thought.
Titania had her own suggestion though, "Don't give up so easily.
I'll be this guy would do almost anything for a smile."
*I am NOT going to do some floozy act just to get a special favor,*
I insisted.
"Why not," she asked. "You've got the equipment, and the skills, and
who's to say that the other uses for these vehicles are any more important
than yours? In fact, I'll bet this clerk is the one who decides, so all
you have to do is convince him."
I was about to refuse again, but that last point was probably valid.
Despite all the policies and procedures ever written, in the end, people
ran the Federation. And people found ways around rules.
And I guess I just wanted that runabout. After all, I *was*
officially a field agent, even if only half trained.
My silent conversation with Titania had taken only a heartbeat so
it seemed like an unforced reaction to the clerk's statement to put a
pout on my full lips and lean over the upside down (to me) screen
listing the runabout reservations. My long hair fell down to brush
lightly on his hands, and I knew the more-than-ample cleavage that
Titania had inflicted on me showed more than clearly through the low,
scooped neck of my "uniform".
Glancing up at him through my long lashes, I let the call girl
training reflexes out and softly purred, "Surely there is, well, *some*
way I could convince you to, um, rearrange your priorities."
The clerk apparently couldn't make up his mind whether to look at
my lips or my cleavage. Of course, with the way I was leaning over the
desk, he didn't have to make much of a choice. Both were almost in a
line of sight that continued to the listing of reservations. After I
threw in an unnecessary bit of deep breathing, his attention was almost
forcibly focused just above the listing.
Another eye-crosser. Was I ever that obvious when I looked at a
pretty girl? I hoped not, but something told me that I had been just as
bad. How often had a woman done that to me, just for the feeling of
power? Probably about as often as I had fallen for the trick. But the
memory of the times I'd been on the receiving end of such a show actually
made me feel better about it. No one was hurt, and some of those memories
had stayed with me for a long time; a long, pleasurable time. In the
times I had been like this clerk, I had actually enjoyed the attention of
a beautiful woman. Certainly I had never thought poorly of one who would
notice me, at least in passing.
The clerk stammered as he tried to wrench his gaze from my bosom.
"Uh, let me check. Oh, here's something. The Wapsi is just coming back
on line after cleaning. She was reserved by, well, that's not important.
Anyway, you can have her if you want."
"The Wapsi?" I repeated.
"Yes, well, actually it's the Wapsipinnicon, which is some river in
the Midwest somewhere, but that's sort of a mouthful."
"Indeed it is," I agreed, offering him one last glimpse at more
than a mouthful before standing up straighter.
I let my impressed reflexes loose for a few more moments as I
sashayed to the indicated craft, hips loose and hair swinging. I think
the guy had earned a little more of a show.
"Little show?" Titania said. "You're turning into a blatant
exhibitionist."
"He enjoyed it," I said.
"Yes, he did," she admitted. "But why did *you* enjoy it?"
"Huh?" But I knew what she had said, and that she was right. Why
did I enjoy it? Even as she asked her question, I knew it was more than
simply getting my runabout. Pondering that kept me occupied for the
relatively short journey at the runabout's maximum warp. When I dropped
back to impulse, I ordered the computer to arrange a landing clearance.
"Unable to comply," the computer voice said. "Planetary landings
are prohibited. We are directed instead to enter a holding orbit."
"Why?" I asked.
"Information not available," the computer responded.
Before my sudden selection as a symbiont host, I had made a living
arguing with computers. And I knew when it was a waste of time.
"Open a channel to whoever is in charge of planetary access," I
demanded.
"Teton Central Control," another voice said, after a moment. This
one was human, though. And male, from the sound of it.
"This is Lieutenant Commander Xora, of the Federation. I have
permission to visit your planet. In fact, I've been invited by your, um,
Kommissar Sstton. What's the hold up?"
"Oh, Commander Xora, welcome to Teton," said the voice of Teton
Central Control. "I'm sorry, but planetary regulations prohibit
landings by visiting vessels. Are you aware of our technology
restrictions?"
"Yes, I think so," I said, "but I'm not planning on importing
anything."
"Good, and thank you," the voice said politely. "Still, I'm sure
you can understand that while we don't think you would deliberately break
our laws, it's easier for everyone if we just keep such things off our
planet in the first place."
"Very well," I said. "I'll beam down if you give me the
coordinates."
The voice hesitated, then said, "I'm, um, sorry, but we need to
restrict transporter use, too. If you'll lower your shields, I'll beam
you down from here."
*Geez, these guys are paranoid!* I grumped silently to my partner.
Setting the autopilot and checking my communicator, I stood back from
the controls. "Whenever you're ready," I said.
The shimmer cut my vision for a moment. When it cleared, I saw a
simple arrival platform and a single waiting visitor. On the other hand,
he might as well have been a whole squad.
"That is the biggest man I have ever seen," Titania said.
*You can say that again,* I agreed.
Of course, she didn't get it. "Why should I repeat myself? Didn't
you hear me the first time?"
*Uh, never mind,* I said. Then stepped forward.
"Kommissar Sstton?" I asked.
"No," the man said, a frown fixed on his face. Then he introduced
himself. "I'm Inspector Darius. Since we didn't know exactly when you'd
arrive, the Kommissar is at his ranch. He sends his apologies and assures
you that he'll be here for the reception this evening."
"Oh, that's quite all right," I said, looking up to the huge man. I
think he was at least two meters tall, and yet he looked stocky. Not fat,
mind you. He looked like he had been carved out of granite, with a
square, bearded jaw over a thick neck above boulders for shoulders and
pillars for legs.
His frown hadn't gone away when I had accepted the missing
dignitary's apology. Something about his attitude said he was not as
impressed with my appearance as I was with his.
"Inspector Darius," I said. "You are the one in charge of the
investigation into the missing women."
"Yes," he replied curtly.
"And you don't like Federation busy bodies meddling in your
business," I offered, guessing why he was still irritated.
"Yes," he said, just as curtly. And that's all he said. No polite
acceptance of the arrangement, no offer to work together despite his
feeling it was unnecessary. Nothing.
*Well, up yours, asshole,* I thought. I didn't care if he liked the
idea or not. I was here under orders, same as he was.
I lifted an eyebrow in question, glancing briefly at the door out of
the transporter room. Two could play at the silent game.
He turned without a further comment and walked away, leaving me to
follow or not as I chose.
*Stupid jerk is probably solid stone between the ears, too,* I
said as I followed. Of course, he was taking strides appropriate for
his long legs and while mine were long for my new body, my heels still
restricted my stride to a lot less than his. As a result, I had to
scurry along behind him like a child.
"Hold it," I demanded. He turned to look back. "I don't give a
rat's ass whether you like working with me or not. I didn't ask for
this assignment, and I don't see how I can help. But there is no reason
we can't be professional about this. Starting with you being just a
bit more polite."
"You're the famous runner," he said. "Keep up."
"I'm built for endurance, not for speed," I claimed, throwing my
hips to the side and giving him a bit of profile. He might not like
my insertion in to his investigation, but by God if he was a man, I'd
get his attention one way or another.
"Endurance?" he snorted in disbelief. "Right." Without another
word he turned back to his path, though he did walk at a more reasonable
pace.
*I'll run you into the ground, Bozo,* I promised myself. Little
knowing how true that was going to be.
Over his shoulder, Darius said, "I'm on my way to the last known
location of the most recently abducted woman. If you're not too tired
from your trip, I suppose you might as well come along. If not, I'll
arrange a room for you to rest up."
"I'm fine," I said stiffly. We got into a stinky wheeled vehicle
right out of a historical drama. I had this feeling that he was
supposed to open my door for me or something, but he just climbed in and
waited impatiently for me to figure out the manual latch. Instead of
helping, he fiddled with the controls and a rumble started, shaking the,
uh, car I think it was called.
"What's wrong?" I asked in alarm.
"Nothing," Darius said. The machine surged forward and we were
soon rolling down a river of poured stone.
*Right, nothing's wrong,* I thought. *Inertial dampers are broken,
the thing is so far out of alignment it's producing vibrations you can
actually *feel* and the smell is getting worse.*
"Maybe it's supposed to be that way," Titania murmured in my ear.
*Who would do that deliberately?* I asked her.
"Apparently the Tetons," she answered logically. I'd have strangled
her if I could figure out how to do it.
My big "escort" pulled up near a building and got out, leaving me
once again to keep up as well as I could. There was a uniformed officer
of some sort standing near the entrance, who nodded at Darius then gave
me a decidedly longer look.
"Who's the lady?" he asked.
Darius answered, "This is Federation Field Agent Lieutenant Commander
Xora. She's come to help us hicks figure out what's been happening to our
women, since we're too dumb to figure it out on our own."
"Oh," the officer said. Quietly. Then he whispered to Darius. I
heard, though, thanks to Titania's help.
"Tell you what, Darius, you invent some reason she needs to stay with
me. We'll find a way to pass the time."
"She *is* a looker," Darius whispered back. He noticed! How about
that? "But I don't have time for games. I'll let her tag along as
ordered until she gets back in her fancy spacecraft and goes back to
wherever she came from. Hopefully she won't get in the way too much."
By this time I had figured out the inside part of the mechanical door
latch, gotten out of the vehicle, and was close enough that they stopped
their whispering. I was tempted to make some smart remark about their
comment, but why should I let them know anything about my augmented
senses?
Darius nodded at the officer, who seemed to believe he might someday
be called to give a detailed description of me. Certainly his eyes were
dissecting every atom of my new form. I put a little extra sway into my
walk as I followed Darius into the building, satisfied with the look of
discomfort the man showed.
Titania snickered in my ear while I tried to catch up to Darius,
"You'll hurt somebody that way."
*Serves him right,* I answered, but a bit of her amusement leaked
through and I felt my own attitude easing up.
That didn't last long. Another man guarded a doorway down a starkly
lit hallway. Darius nodded as he entered, but the man stopped me.
"Can I help you, miss?" he said.
"Darius, I'm getting tired of this," I said past him.
"Oh, she's with me," Darius admitted.
"Lucky you," the guard said.
"Hardly," we said, Darius and I, in perfect unison.
The guard snickered. Neither Darius nor I joined him.
Once we were inside I tried once again to establish a more positive
relationship with my supposed colleague. "Look, Darius, I'm not here to
make you look bad. I've honestly never been involved in a criminal
investigation before. I'm only here because your Kommissar requested that
I come, and my boss agreed based on what *I* could learn from you about
how to investigate a crime. So, could you just knock that chip off your
shoulder and let me do my job?"
Darius stopped in his prowling around the room and looked at me for a
moment. I didn't try to put any artificial simper into my voice, or into
my expression. I was irritated, not apologetic. But if the big idiot
continued to ignore me, we truly would end up wasting both his time and
mine.
"Very well," he said, after a moment. Then he began a briefing that
showed his orderly, detail-focused mind.
"The tenant of this apartment, Kanda Lanney, was last seen four days
ago. Her building superintendent called us this morning when her mail had
accumulated so much it wouldn't fit in her mailbox. We've had a
preliminary sweep by a forensics team, but they didn't find anything
particularly noteworthy. I'm just trying to get a 'feel' for the woman;
to see if I can determine where she might have gone that led to her
disappearance."
With that he went back to his walk through the apartment, glancing at
the titles of old-fashioned printed books, looking at souvenirs neatly
arranged on a shelf. There had apparently been a struggle, but it was
clearly localized. A table and chair were upset, a lamp broken; but aside
from the obvious damage the rest of the apartment was quite tidy. A
glance in the bedroom showed a neatly made bed, no clothes on the floor,
no piles of paper anywhere. The broken lamp seemed very discordant, very
wrong in such a well-kept place.
"What's the matter?" Titania asked, picking up on my feeling.
*It just seems like a shame to leave a mess in such a clean home,* I
said, walking over to see if there were anything I could do.
It's funny how that mess seemed to make the whole corner of the place
seem so dirty.
*Wait a minute,* I thought. *That's it! Not all of this dirt is
from the lamp, but it's the only place in here that's not clean.*
*Can you help me with this? I asked Titania.
"Help? How?" she asked in turn.
*Oh, I don't know. See if there is anything unusual about the
debris. It just seems so out of place.*
Titania triggered a deep breath, then suggested I get down on my
hands and knees. "I smell something that I haven't noticed before," she
said.
There was one clump of dried mud that was large enough to pick up,
and I held it close to look at it. Titania seemed to drink in the odor,
through my nose, and then gave a chemical analysis. "There's sulfur in
here, and methane, and fairly complex hydrocarbons. And, um, something
from live plants. Frankly, in stronger concentrations this would stink."
"What have you got?" Darius asked, surprising me.
"Just a clump of dirt," I said, showing him. "It seemed out of
place."
"Maybe dirt is strange on your fancy Federation worlds, but here
we have a planet full of it," he snorted.
"Not in this apartment," I said. "I'll bet if you checked, there
may be dust, but no clumps of mud anywhere but right here where the
struggle was."
"Hmmm," he muttered. He got down on his own hands and knees and
looked more closely at the floor.
"You may be right," he admitted. I suppose I might have been
expecting a bit of congratulatory tone, but at least he wasn't snide
again. Then I realized he was concentrating too hard for any sort of
emotional overtones.
"May I see that?" he asked.
I handed it to him, and then reported on Titania's findings. "It
seems to have some sulfur, and lots of hydrocarbons."
Darius looked surprised and asked, "How can you tell? I didn't see
you use any of your Federation gimmickry."
"Oh, you can smell it, if you have a sensitive nose," I said lightly.
*Thanks, Ti,* I thought to her, glad to have made this Neanderthal pay
attention.
"Ah, yes," he said. He took out a little container and put the dried
mud into it. For a long moment he continued to study the floor, then he
looked up at me and for the first time met my gaze directly. "Thank you,"
he said.
That wasn't much, but it was more than he'd given me until then. I
decided I'd return the courtesy with a smile, then stood up.
"I hope it will help you," I said, dusting off the front of
my boots.
Then I figured I had better take advantage of his perhaps
momentary politeness by asking about the reception. "Um, Inspector, what
time do we need to be at the reception, and where is it?"
"Oh, yeah," he said, standing himself. "I suppose we should be
getting ready. I'll take you back to the transporter, so you can go
to your spacecraft and get changed."
I looked at the standard uniform I was wearing, well, more or less
standard. A bit tighter, a bit shorter in the skirt, but not so much so
that I had felt unusually out of place.
"What's wrong with this?" I asked.
"Oh, the reception is formal, black tie," he replied. Like that told
me anything at all.
"Uh, black tie you say?"
"Of course," he confirmed. Then he gave me a bit of a smile, a
rather interesting expression on that chiseled face. "Nothing but the
best for the famous Federation Field Agent Lieutenant Commander Xora."
"Oh, give me a break," I snapped. Once upon a time I dreamed of
such a lofty title, but the way he said it showed how hollow a title
was without the respect to go with it.
"I'm sorry," Darius said, apparently sincere. Then he continued,
"I understand your concern. I'm not big on formal affairs, either, but
that's what the Kommissar ordered. Have you got an appropriate gown?"
"If not, it'd be the *only* thing not big about him," Titania
interrupted with a giggle only I could hear.
*Quiet,* I ordered. Like I had any authority over her. Ha!
Speaking aloud to Darius, I said, "Um, well, no, not really, but if
you show me the correct style, I suppose I can replicate something on my
runabout."
Darius frowned at the mention of replicator technology, but he
didn't say anything. Well, I wasn't going to sell the thing. Or even
leave it behind. He walked over to the books on the missing girl's
shelves and found some sort of fashion report. Flipping through several
pages, he pointed out something he seemed to think was appropriate.
"Here, this is what the entertainment stars all wear. You're invited
because of fame rather than family or local political power, so that
should be about right. And certainly you've got the figure for it."
"Nice of you to notice," I muttered as I looked at the image he had
pointed out. His hand jerked just a bit as he heard me, but to his credit
he made no other response.
"I like the red one," Titania said in my ear.
*You would,* I said silently. *It looks like it will split at the
seams if she takes a deep breath.*
"Exactly!" Titania said.
*What about this one?* I asked my secret partner, trying to get her
to consider one that was a lot less, um, intimate with the wearer.
"Not on a bet," Titania said. "We'll never get this handsome
inspector into bed with us if you wear that."
I almost dropped the magazine, screaming inside my head at Titania,
*Not in a million years! Not under any circumstances! If I had known you
were thinking that way about this one, too, I'd have . . ."
I ran down, though. What could I do? I was stuck with my symbiont
and she seemed to be stuck with her lust. I guess I hadn't really looked
at Darius that way, until she mentioned it. I had thrown him a few
wiggles, out of habit more than conscious plan, but I had been so
irritated with his arrogance that I thought I was safe from Titania's
planning. I should have know better. Just as I should have known that
she'd insist on the most provocative style. I never should have let her
get a download from Bee on Tryx's propensities.
I sighed, looked at Darius, and said, "You're sure this is
appropriate?"
"Hmmm, oh, yes, sure," he said. "How long will it take you to get
ready?"
"After I'm back at my runabout, only a few minutes," I promised.
He looked at me like I was crazy, but he nodded and said, "Well,
just in case it takes a bit longer than that, we'd better be moving on."
This time, he gave a little wave for me to precede him out the door.
*Goodness, there might be some manners in there, yet,* I mused to
myself.
Titania listened in, of course, and offered her unwanted observation,
"From the look of his pants, there's a lot more than manners in there."
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