THE PARADISE SNARE(61)

The first time Bria had seen the priests wallowing in the red stinking mud, she’d been shocked. It was unsettling to see them indulging in such a … secular … activity. But over the past three months, ever since she’d come to work for His Exaltedness, Teroenza, Bria had gotten used to seeing them.

She was glad that she no longer had to work in the darkness of the glitterstim factory. Working in the Administration Building was much nicer. Climate-controlled, with good lighting and the food … the food was much better. It had taken Bria nearly a full month to be able to eat a regular meal. At first she’d been so listless, so drained of energy, she’d just picked at her food, as she’d been doing for months.

The medical droid had had to treat her for malnutrition, as well as traces of fungi-induced bloodsickness.

But now she was fine.

Things were much better for her, she had to admit, since Vykk had come into her life. If only …

Bria frowned, and sighed. If only Vykk were a pilgrim, too. Then they could worship together, attend prayer times together, and receive the sacrament of Exultation together. But Vykk … she couldn’t escape the fact that he was an unbeliever, even though he’d never admitted to it.

Vykk believed in nothing but himself.

When they attended devotions together, he would hold her arm or her hand to steady her on the way back to her dorm. The touch of his hand made her question her devotion to the One, the All, and Bria didn’t like that. She wanted nothing to shake her faith or make her question her VOWS.

By now she’d reached the sand dunes. As she’d half expected, she heard the sound of a blaster bolt whine and sizzle. “Vykk!” she called, not wanting to sneak up on a man who was doing target practice. “Vykk, it’s me!”

As she climbed to the top of the dune, the wind grabbed her robes and whipped them about her legs. She had to hold onto her cap, lest it be blown off by the ocean wind.

Below her, on the beach, she could see Vykk, legs braced in a shooter’s stance, his blaster in its holster, which he wore slung low, far down his thigh. Muuurgh was some distance from the Corellian, holding several black ceramic target pieces. Without warning, the big Togorian flung two of the targets into the air, one high and to his left, the other low and to his right.

Vykk’s hand was a blur of motion so fast that Bria’s eyes could barely follow it. A blaster bolt shattered first the rightmost, then the left target piece. Tiny droplets of slagged ceramic rained into the restless Ylesian surf.

Muuurgh yowled his approval. Vykk turned, ready to practice distance shooting at the stationary target they’d set up, then he spotted Bria at the top of the dune. With a wave and grin, he holstered his blaster and loped toward her.

Bria was struck, as she always was, by how goodlooking he was, with his regular features, brown hair and eyes, and lean build. Taken all together, he wasn’t actually a classically handsome man—but any woman who’d ever been on the receiving end of his smile wouldn’t notice that.

“Hi!” he yelled, running up to her.

Before Bria could fend him off, he dropped a kiss on her forehead.

Breathless, she pushed him away. “No, Vykk. That’s against my vows.”

“I know,” he said unrepentantly, “but someday, honey, you’re gonna kiss me back.”

“I wondered if you wanted to go for stim-tea before devotions,” she said. “Not today,” he said, suddenly serious, looking down into her face.

“There’s something we need to talk about, Bria. I’ve waited until you were … better, because I’m afraid it’s gonna be a shock. But you gotta find out sometime.”

Bria looked up at him, wondering what was going on. “What are you talking about, Vykk?”

“Let’s go and sit down,” he said. “Over here, on the beach, okay?” He led her over to a smooth spot in the sand, and when Muuurgh came up to see if they were going back, Vykk shook his head. “Give us a little privacy for a while, pal, okay?”

The Togorian walked away, up the dune. Bria watched as his inky form vanished behind the hill of sand.

Her heart began to race as Vykk took a small device out of his pocket.

“This is the audio-log recorder I pulled out of the Dream’s control panel,” he told her. “I’m going to play a recording I made a couple of months ago, before Teroenza asked you to look after his collection.

Just be patient and listen, okay?”

“I don’t know … I can tell I’m not going to like this,” she muttered.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about that recording.”

“Please,” he said. “For me. Just listen.”