Return to Part Two
When Sulu and Gage walked back into Starfire, Jeremy was speaking into a com unit that had been brought to Gage’s table. On the screen, Loki Monolem ran a hand through her short black hair, asking, “Where’s the Maker you promised me, Cobra?”
Jeremy smiled engagingly. “Occupied at present, Willow.” He shrugged elegantly.
“Done deal,” she pointed out. “Why else would I have come to Naois? To spend a few pleasant hours with you?”
He grinned. “Well, if you think that would help…”
She laughed. “Me, yes, but not business. I’ve got a company to run, Jeremy.”
“How’s suicide incorporated doing these days?”
“Why don’t you find your Maker, then come up to Leather and find out,” she suggested.
“Mind if I bring an old friend along? He wants to rent a tapestry.”
Loki’s face turned wary. “Who?” she asked.
“Kamikaze, LeRoi himself,” Jeremy grinned. “That is, if you have anything worthy of him.”
Loki’s image did a creditable job of disguising her excitement within her suave, Haven imperturbability. “It’s Gage’s boat, ask him.”
Gage leaned across the table. “Gage says it’s fine by me,” he put in. “And what’s this about a Maker?”
“Cajun, but he took off with Spike,” Jeremy replied unconcernedly. “I expect Kam can charm Willow until Spike turns him loose.”
“I hope so,” Loki rejoined from the screen with a brilliant smile.
“You don’t want to renege on a deal with a Haven, Cobra,” Gage reminded.
“Never, oh great supplier,” Jeremy returned solemnly.
“Cobra,” Loki stated firmly from the com, “you’d better un-occupy your Maker. I don’t have all damned week. Monolem out.”
Jeremy glanced at Sulu. “Speaking of deals…” the helmsman said.
Gage reached into his belt pouch, placing a bright red capsule on the table. He heard Jeremy’s quiet inrush of breath, and watched as Sulu’s dark eyes fastened on the drug. There was hesitation there, and Gage softly murmured, “both.” Sulu’s eyes closed and the venus disappeared, first to his hand, then into his mouth. Jeremy reached for him, but Gage put out a restraining hand. “His choice,” he said, and waited.
It took only a moment for Sulu’s eyes to open with fevered intensity. “The needle, you goddamned bloodsucker,” he hissed at Gage.
Gage turned elegantly to Jeremy. “Pay up, Cobra,” he said. “The king chose venus.”
In uniform, it was easy for Jeremy to get DelMonde’s room number and a pass key. He chuckled to himself at the thought of catching Cajun with Spike. It had been years since he’d seen the Antari – except for the display of sex-to-music earlier that day – and the thought of seeing her again, especially stark naked, was very pleasant. The thought that he might get a menage a trois out of the deal was even more pleasant. The door opened easily and he was greeted by a roar of passionate agony.
DelMonde had Ruth pinned over the side of the bed, her hair wrapped around his fist, pulling her head down almost to the floor. He was thrusting into her with a savage intensity that only came from one thing.
Jeremy let the hedonism wash over him for a moment. Venus. Telepaths, empaths on venus. What I wouldn’t give for a taste of that!
You don’t want to renege on a deal with a Haven.
He sighed, then mentally strengthened both resolve and determination and strode over to the bed. He waited the few more minutes it took for DelMonde to orgasm and collapse onto Ruth’s sweat-slicked body, then knelt next to the bed. He gently tapped the DelMonde on the shoulder.
“We had a deal, Maker,” he whispered, “and I found Spike for you.”
It took a second for DelMonde’s vision to focus, but when it did, he came bolt upright, off of Ruth, off the bed, swearing gutturally. Ruth moaned, reaching blindly, and her hands found Jeremy’s arm. She yanked at it, pulling him down on top of her. DelMonde just as quickly pulled him off. “What you t’ink you… how th' hell… damn you!” he snarled.
“We have an appointment with Willow, remember?” Jeremy reminded. “And it’s my ass if I don’t deliver and now.” He smiled down at Ruth. “It won’t take long, I promise.”
“You leave her be,” DelMonde growled threateningly.
Jeremy glanced at him and Ruth again started pulling at his arm.
“Tell her that, NC,” he murmured.
“I not leave her alone,” DelMonde said.
“No, not in her condition,” Jeremy agreed.
“What make you ‘tink I can work in my condition?” DelMonde asked.
“Well...” Jeremy thought for a minute. “You always said you were LeRoi’s equal, and if he can race on venus, you should be able to…”
“What!?” Ruth gasped, then shuddered, and turned to DelMonde. “Del, no!”
“Race on… Cobra, what th' fuck you…”
“His choice,” Jeremy returned. “I don’t know what’s wrong with him, but… it was his choice.” He kept his private worry to himself. Ruth grabbed at his arm a third time, and he pulled back, bringing her up into his arms. Immediately DelMonde snatched her away, his arm around her waist, pushing Jeremy so hard that he landed on the floor. “Jesus, NC, I’m not unconscious here!”
“Don’ touch her,” DelMonde warned.
“Then let’s go. We’re being waited on.”
“Del, he can’t, not on…” Ruth was gasping. “Jeremy, how can you let him…”
“His choice, Spike,” Jeremy repeated. “He is the king.”
“No, Zehara…” Ruth moaned. “Del, please…!”
DelMonde was already getting dressed. “Come on,” he snarled. “Maybe we get there in time t' stop him.”
Sulu saw everything through a deepening red haze. After beaming up to the Leather, Gage had warned everyone on board not to get too near him.
“He’s soaring,” he’d explained casually, “and what he wants is slim and metallic and stripped. Loki, get Trickster set for racing.”
Loki had smiled, obviously having difficulty restraining a royal greeting on seeing him, but she balked at Gage’s order.
“Just what in Saford’s Hell is going on?” she hissed. “I know I haven’t seen Kam in a while, but he’s always refused to even race against a tapestry! And now he wants one, and soaring to boot? What the hell is wrong with him?”
Gage shrugged. “Ask him yourself,” he replied coolly.
Loki turned to him. “Kam,” she faltered, “A tapestry?”
Sulu nodded, trying to keep the fire burning in his blood from exploding into a sexual marathon he knew he wouldn’t survive.
“But you never even…”
“Willow, is there a new Prince?” he managed fiercely.
“No, LeRoi, but – “
“Then do it!”
She came close to him, and he shuddered, heat throbbing through him. “Kamikaze,” she began softly, soothingly, “let me…”
“I want Trickster,” he whispered hoarsely. “Just get me the tapestry.” He locked his eyes onto hers. “Or don’t you think I can do it?”
She relented and it seared in him. “What LeRoi wants,” she promised, and left hurriedly.
Sulu closed his eyes. Soon, he crooned softly to his aching body. Soon, and I’ll let it go. Speed and stars and the whole damned galaxy to run in. Burn it out, burn up all the need, the pain, the hunger. No sweet silver skin so I’ll take a sweet silver ship and run her right off the scales, right into warp. Burn it up, burn it out, Trickster for silver, venus for deep, dark, wine red. Harder, faster, more…!
"Easy," Gage murmured. “If you go into visions now you won’t make it out of the bay.”
Sulu opened his eyes. “I’ll make it, baby,” he said furiously, “and you can put credit on it!”
“Can I?” Gage replied with a chuckle.
“Full fuel, full ‘sphere when I leave and I’ll coast her back and land pinpoint!”
“You’re on, Kam. How much?”
“My life, Gage.”
The Haven snorted. “And how much is that on the open market?”
“Name it. I’ll match it.”
Gage studied him. “You’re talking slavery here, Kam.”
“So the fuck what?” Sulu returned savagely. “If there’s a drop of fuel left, or if I can’t control the set down, I lose. Are you gonna turn down those odds?”
“And if you die?” Gage asked.
“We both lose.”
There was silence, and Sulu started rocking with the power of the drug coursing through him. At last Gage took a breath.
“Deal,” he said.
“Done.”
Function! Del growled at himself as he and Ruth followed Jeremy through the crowded streets. Jus’ keep movin’, keep your wits, function! He glanced down at Ruth, who was clutching tightly to his arm. He could feel the same struggle in her, the fierce worry for Sulu – and the same desperate grief that had led him to her in the first place. That need pulled at him still, and the added pull of venus fire was making it increasingly difficult to concentrate. God, babe, want you!
They arrived at the transport station and Jeremy called the Leather for beam-up. Loki Monolem insisted on seeing DelMonde before she’d let them aboard. She was delighted to see Ruth, too, but it quickly faded when she realized the condition her Maker was in. She whirled on Jeremy, hitting him harshly on the arm.
“Cobra, how can you manage to screw things up so…”
“He screwed it, Willow,” Jeremy protested. “I made the deal before he was soaring. And it was Spike who turned him red.”
Loki started to speak again, but Del cut her off. “Where th' damn needle,” he snarled.
“You can work when you’re…” Loki began skeptically.
“Where’s Roy!?” Ruth interrupted sharply.
Loki again switched her attention. “LeRoi?” she asked reverently. “He’s out with Trickster.” Her eyes gleamed, and Ruth couldn’t decide if she was concerned or crowing. “On venus.”
Needles were dangerous. The one-man craft were illegal outside of professional racing circuits. They were difficult to operate and it was mandatory that they have no weaponry and no shields. Tapestries added to that list – no emergency life support, no sensors other than navigational, no extra hull construction. They were stripped, bare metal, hull and engine, con and computers, not even restraining arms on the pilot’s seat. A racer in a tapestry handled it perfectly – or not at all.
Sulu settled easily into the Trickster. It had been four years since he’d been in a needle, and he’d never been in a tapestry, but it felt good. The venus was beating at him as his fingers found all the controls. There were a few modifications from the standard layout, and the sensor screen was missing, along with the emergency panel, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle. The last of the fuel was packed, the cockpit sealed, the atmosphere within brought up to Earth-normal plus about thirty degrees Fahrenheit. It was hot, but he’d need that extra thirty degrees of cooling to make the flight.
He signaled to Loki that he was ready, scarlet images searing behind his eyes. Seconds now, just that. Then pour it on, full speed, let it take you. The bay doors opened, he took a deep breath and hit the accelerator.
The rush of motion disoriented him for a moment, but his hands moved swiftly over the controls, pulling up and out of the ecliptic. He fed more power to the delicate engines, feeling it surging through him. Faster, harder he pushed her, more speed, more strength. Each star was a point of dull red, the sun of Naois a ruby ball behind him and he cut it all out of his mind, intent only on the power and the speed – and the burning.
The word spread rapidly to every Clavist in the system. LeRoi was back, re-earning his title by flying a tapestry while on venus. His first run in years, first ever in a tapestry. From the Clavists it spread to the oddsmakers and the betting began.
Ruth both loved and hated needles and she always feared them. Not even Del knew it – and there was very little that Del did not know about her. She was a Clavist, a Racer and part-time computer-systems-only Maker and she had outrun the Hunter. Only Katana had ever beaten her – Kamikaze had retired before she even knew what a needle was. She had always claimed she wanted nothing more than a chance to race LeRoi. It was, in fact, the last thing she wanted. The Clave was an insane, wild life that had accepted her when she needed acceptance more than anything else, and she had lived the image to the hilt. But after helping Barak and Cobra catch the Hunter, she’d left the Clave and hadn’t looked back. Sometimes she missed the life, but she never missed the machines that were the heart of it.
But on board the Leather, soaring on venus, barely able to control her own senses and surrounded by Racers and Makers and needles, all her fear returned. It twisted sharply inside her, covered with the fiery red haze. And it was all for Sulu. All the horrible possibilities she had ever imagined were going to happen to him – explosion, collision, life support failure, radiation, fuel leak, navigation failure, gravity well; a lost, lonely, freezing death, or an instant of flame or the Hunter’s guns… All of it, and there was nothing she could do.
Damn venus! she cried silently. Damn Jilla, damn the love, damn the need, damn his reckless soul… but Goddess, let him live!
The Leather’s bay with its tracking screen was getting crowded. Everyone wanted to watch the sight of LeRoi retaining his crown. Sulu killing himself, she corrected, half angry, half hysterically worried. Del had promised he’d get back to her as soon as he could, but the venus was making her frantic. Her fear and the drug’s fire were tearing at her, each feeding the other as sensation fought to rule her mind. She rubbed her hands over her arms, shivering yet devouring the sensation of flesh on flesh. A familiar voice made her turn sharply.
“A nickel says he’ll make it, alive, sane and screeching for more!”
“Daffy?” Ruth cried. Daphne Gollub turned abruptly.
“Ruth, what - ?” she began, then backed away. “You’re soaring!”
“No shit,” Ruth faltered. Goddess, I need Del! “What the fuck are you doing?”
Daffy blushed, a rarity. “Making some easy money?” she replied.
“Betting on Roy’s life?” Ruth demanded.
“So he’s crazy. He’ll still make it.”
“Damn you, damn it all….!”
“Listen, Mensch, at least I’m not taking any of Gage’s action.”
Ruth ignored the out-dated handle. “Gage?” she asked instead. “Where?”
Daffy grinned wickedly. “I thought for sure you’d know.” She pointed. “Over there.”
Ruth focused her reddened vision on the place Daffy had indicated, knowing she’d lose her way if she tried to move through the crowd unaided. She locked her mind onto his and took a trembling step forward. She heard and recognized M’Benga’s voice, Jeremy’s, Loki’s, and finally managed to get close enough to Gage to catch his attention. He smiled and came toward her. Then his eyes glinted in pleased surprise.
“Spike, how nice,” he said. “You haven’t changed a bit, not even your condition. Have you been in a trap, or is this another special occasion?”
Ruth swallowed, remembering the last time she’d seen Gage, he’d supplied her and Sulu with a week of soaring. That had been more than seven months ago, just before Jilla… She bit her tongue, shuddering.
“How could you let him – ” she began. He stepped closer to her and his skin glowed at her.
“It was what he wanted,” he replied. “I don’t know why, but I always oblige a good customer.” His fingers reached out, toying with her tangled hair. “Now, Spike, what can I do for you?”
She felt herself falling into another hallucination, one of gleaming bronze, relief and wild, frantic joy. No, no! She pulled herself sharply away from it, realizing her fingers were stroking Gage’s black-shirted chest with wonder and adoration. He was gently urging her, his eyes dark and amused. “I… Gage, you have to stop him, get him back, he can’t…”
“He thinks he can, and he’s bet his life on it.,” the Haven interrupted.
“If he dies…” she moaned.
“Even if he doesn’t, if he can’t coast and pinpoint,” Gage countered.
Ruth’s throat was suddenly dry, the scarlet agony threatening to consume her as new fear pounded in her. “What?” she rasped breathlessly.
“A small wager, his idea. His life against current market value.”
“No!” It was no more than a whisper, but her mind screamed it. “He can’t. You can’t…”
“A perfectly honest and legal deal, Spike. We’re not in Federation space here.” He gestured around at the Leather. “Now, am I mistaken, or do you want some of the action?”
“I want Sulu alive!”
Gage shook his head. “I can’t give you that.”
“Damn you, damn you…” She sank to her knees, helpless as the venus fire raced through her. “Sulu…” she sobbed, then “Del!”
DelMonde heard Ruth’s cry as he crawled out from under Loki’s newest tapestry, the Daemon. The needle was as stripped as she was going to be, at least as he was going to do, and Ruth’s voice renewed the searing hunger he’d been beating down. He lost concern for and awareness of needles and engineering and raced to her call.
She was on her knees in front of a suave and seductive Gage, who was bending down to her, holding out one elegant hand. She needed help. Del knew what would happen if the Haven touched her, and swiftly interceded. It didn’t matter to him what would happen if she touched him.
She threw herself into his arms, her sobs turning to fevered, passionate moans. The fire he had only partially banked flared in him as he moved on top of her, tearing at her clothing. She writhed against him, her fingers clawing at him. He heard Gage’s satisfied amusement as the Haven walked away.
No one paid too much attention to the aphrodites. LeRoi had just turned Trickster, too far out to get back.
The temperature had dropped to about 65 Fahrenheit, but Sulu didn’t feel the relative chill. His blood burned, searing his skin to excruciating sensitivity. The fire his heart thundered through him, fed on the speed of the tapestry, the glory shining in his fever-bright eyes. There were no fancy navigational tricks, he didn’t bother keeping Trickster upright to the plane of the ecliptic. Speed was all that concerned him. He pushed the needle to its limits, harder, faster. His dancing fingers urged her, coaxing more from her engines. Come on, baby, he pleaded fervently, just a little more. Sweet, sweet Trick- His thoughts cut off in a harsh, bitter laugh and were torn away, scattered before him in red pinpoints of anguish. Please, baby, come on, his pleading renewed, I need it, give me more! Faster, higher… harder, faster… silver, wine red, more!
The need screamed in him and he gasped, the air in his lungs hot and dry, burning his throat and mouth. Before him, the blackness of space wavered, swirling into taunting, beckoning shadows. He sped on, racing into them, laughter again torn from him as they retreated in the face of his power. He was pushing eighty percent lightspeed, almost warp, and he prayed for the leap that would put him into color and racing stars. To race a star… Beautiful, perfect, a roaring red inferno and he’d beat it! Warp, my Trickster, give it to me, leave all this and keep soaring! Heat, speed and hunger and visions… swirling silvers and grays, wine red flames into darkness… calling… pleading… make it, Kam, warp in a needle, a tapestry and forget her!
He didn’t know how long he’d been out. Time hadn’t mattered except as a measure of speed. The high was breaking, his tortured body no longer able to sustain the venus push. With no release, the drug broke you, burning itself up in sheer agony in your veins. It was a sweating, screaming pain that took sight and sound and tore holes in your mind. If he was going to make it, he’d have to turn back.
His skin began to tingle, a prelude to the stinging that meant breakdown. He couldn’t swallow, and his eyes wouldn’t clear the visions. Blindly he moved his hands over the controls, going into a tight spin, turning, dropping…
NO! his mind screamed. It isn’t enough, I can’t go back, let me go! He sobbed fiercely, feeling his body straining to feed again on venus’ power. It won’t work! he shrieked at himself. Nothing works, not amber, not venus, not sex, not speed…
Let it, a little longer, it can, god, it has to…
I can’t. I don’t have the fuel to get back as it –
I don’t have the fuel.
He fought the red need, forcing himself to think. The gauge was hopelessly low. He’d gone too far out. He was dropping into the ecliptic, but he’d never make it back to the Leather.
You lose, Gage! he laughed despairingly. Too bad I do, too.
LeRoi, lose? Never! Think, damn it, you’re a starship helmsman. I need power, a boost; speed, motion, gravity… Gravity. The high-grav station. If I can drop her near enough to it at the right angle, she’ll whip toward Leather and I can use the rest of my fuel to stop her. Pinpoint.
The venus begged him to give it up, scattering his thoughts. Burning agony shot along his veins, his eyes closing with it. Visions again, hot wine red, silver visions pierced him, needing more, crying, begging, pleading for more. He cried out, snapping his eyes open, determined to take the power of that need and use it. The temperature was down to 40 degrees and he grit his teeth, hands set over the controls.
It was Dr. M’Benga who finally pried Ruth and Del apart. “Come on,” he growled urgently. “I don’t want to have to report his death by myself.”
Ruth blinked away the redness, gasping for air. “Ben?” she managed.
“Yeah. Sulu’s almost out of fuel and he just made it to the ecliptic.”
The pain and fear Del’s body has eased came back, hitting Ruth’s mind with the full force of venus behind it. She sobbed as Ben hastily pulled her clothes around her. Del still seemed dazed, but he was fumbling with his own clothes.
“Ben,” Ruth rasped, “Gage has...”
“I know all about it, Ruth,” Ben returned. “He’s already boasting, regretfully of course, about how much he would’ve made.” He shook his head ruefully. “Nobody else is into his action. Not even me.”
“Like he’s already dead,” Ruth mumbled hoarsely. “Get me to him, please!”
“Ruth…” Del broke in, his voice sounding raw and tight.
“He’s still alive, and as long as he is I can take Gage’s action!” she snapped, the fire flaring inside her.
“What good that do?” Del demanded.
“Damn it, if it’s slavery I can buy him before the fact and he’ll never know!”
“You not t’inkin’, babe,” Del rejoined.
“If it’s his bet, he has to pay it,” Ben tried to explain.
“I can’t just do nothing!” Ruth wailed.
“Did I hear someone say they wanted some action?” Gage’s cool voice said, and Ben answered “no,” as Ruth cried “yes!”
“I thought you didn’t approve, Spike,” Gage went on, ignoring M’Benga.
Ruth glared up at him, her eyes fierce amethyst. “How much?” she snarled.
“How much what?” the Haven asked.
She clenched her teeth and her fists. “Market value on Roy.”
“Ruth, you can’t – “ Del began. Ruth closed her eyes.
“How much!” she spat at Gage.
He smiled. “A quarter up, easily.”
Ruth swallowed. Two hundred and fifty thousand, plus the standard Haven interest rate; 10 percent off the top for each year of an average lifespan. Which meant, in Sulu’s case, another three million credits. Of course, the latter figure would be payable over the next hundred and twenty-five years… She sobbed. She didn’t have and couldn’t possibly get that kind of cash. Bastard! she seethed bitterly. You goddamned Haven bastard!
A collective gasp from in front of the tracking scanners caught her attention. She clamored to her feet, Ben aiding her. With Del right behind her, she pushed her way through the crowd around the screens. Her vision blurred when she tried to read it and she swore, shuddering helplessly.
“Out o' sight, behind th' fifth planet,” she heard Del’s voice translating from the figures on the screen. “That where th' physics station is!” His voice became excited. “Babe, he tryin’ to use th' gravity as a booster!”
“But he’s soaring,” she whispered. “How can he control…” She buried her face against Del’s chest, fighting the waves of pain and fire.
Del put protective arms around her. I help you raise th' credit, he whispered in her mind, and she felt his trembling control of his own hunger. An' if he don’ make it… He let the thought fade, hugging her tightly.
She fell into the sensation of his arms, his body, needing and wanting and hating it all. Each passing minute took her further from the pain, back into desperate, mindless hunger. She wanted that oblivion, but a flicker of terror kept her from it, like a single flame in a darkened room. A single flame. Candles. Fire. Torches and Joan d’Arc and burning anguish, panicked agony, fire, death… A rushing noise, hissing coolness on her burning hair and skin… torrents of water, drenching her, drowning the flames… Ruth, you must wake up!
Visions! she cried at herself, and battled the hopeless relief, weary of the sharp face, the knowing eyes, the deep olive aching that drove her. “Help me,” she moaned softly, “Del, help me!”
“I here,” murmured in her ear. “Hold on, babe, he comin’ ‘round.”
The words shattered her hunger and her head jerked up. Del was breathing hoarsely, his body shaking against hers, his dark eyes on fire. “I can’t read it no more,” he rasped. “Too much red.”
“I don’t believe it,” Ben’s voice said in quiet awe. “He whipped it around straight for us.”
Ruth started crying as Gage’s voice, almost inaudible, added “Devritol.”
Sheer luck. That was all that got the Trickster into and out of the well caused by the man-made black hole. Sulu was gasping, shivering, the temperature in the cockpit of the tapestry now below freezing. His arms and legs were burning, his fingers losing more feeling with each passing moment. The fire was eating away inside him, the need intensifying. The red blur threatening his vision kept returning no matter how often he fought it back. His lungs labored with the rapidly cooling, thinning air, his throat so parched every breath was torture. He warred with the thunder of his heart, the pleading anguish of his mind, the pain and overload and hunger of his body. Take it! he screamed at himself. You deserve it, you earned it! Harder, faster, more…wine red, silver, speed and heat and… sick-fuck motherfucker, take it!
The Leather suddenly loomed before him, her bay doors open and welcoming. There was no fuel left, the atmosphere in the cockpit thinning away to nothing. The well had shot him too fast. He swore, damned it all again, and fired the navigational thrusters. He’d burn them out – but who gave a damn? He made his aching hands move, opening all the stops, punching in only one navigational order; full reverse.
The thrusters screamed in silence, the tapestry joining the noiseless symphony as it braked with furious swiftness. Sulu felt the sharp bump on hull contact, then the breaking thruster flared and died.
And Trickster came to a pinpoint stop.
Sulu’s heart pounded with the seconds it took for pressurization of the bay to come up to full. Shaking, he reached up to release the cockpit’s seal and the bay was flooded with rushing, cheering people. Wracking pain and piercing fire tore into him as he climbed out of the tapestry. He recognized no one and nothing and the ache and pressure he’d tried so hard to burn out joined the flaming river that coursed through him. The people pressed around him, someone handing him a tall flask of bright orange anti-rad. He downed it on instinct, then with sudden clarity remembered the jet in his sash. His fingers sought and found it, and he popped it into his mouth, sobbing as the dark void at last began to close over his being.