The Course of Empire(153)

"Great, just great. I may be the only twenty-four-year-old virgin in America, outside of religious orders. I can't believe I'm doing this."



When she got to the chamber, she stuck her head in the entrance. Kralik was there, to her relief, discussing something with Hami.



"Ed, could I talk to you a moment?" She blurted it out immediately, only realizing then how nervous she was. Still more nervous, she fluttered her hands. "I mean, I don't want to interrupt you—"



He studied her for a moment, with a quizzical expression, then glanced at Hami. The Jao pleniary-superior assumed a posture which Caitlin thought was relaxed-patience. She wasn't sure. It wasn't a posture she'd seen any Narvo adopt often. If ever.



"There is time," Hami said. "Not much, but some."



A moment later, Kralik had her by the shoulder and gently eased her out of the chamber.



"Okay, Caitlin. What's up?"

* * *



She never remembered exactly what she babbled for the next few minutes. If she babbled at all. Kralik claimed afterward he had to pry it out of her, like a clam, but she thought his memory was suspect.



She'd never be able to prove it, though, because when she was finally done Kralik's smile was both cheerful and relaxed. Very cheerful, and even more relaxed—and it was the second of the two that she cherished the most.



"I'd be delighted, Caitlin Stockwell. Deeply honored, too. Yes, I understand you might be in Pluthrak service the rest of your life. I already knew that, actually. I find that I don't care, since this all assumes that we're both alive a few days from now, and if we are . . ."



He shrugged. "Who cares? After all, I'm in his service too—and, as it happens, I've seen the movie about the forty-seven loyal ronin. It was a good movie. I liked it."



It was a very masculine smile, too. At the moment, that didn't mean much to her. Not under the immediate circumstances, between exhaustion and a broken arm and an impending battle. But she knew it would—a lot—if they had a future.



"Do you have a preference in engagement rings?" he asked softly. His hand came up and caressed her cheek.



She swallowed, covering his hand with her own. "Nothing fancy, Ed." Her voice sounded squeaky, even to her. "Just . . ."



She couldn't say the last words. In a few days, Ed Kralik was going to be in a tank turret in the middle of the sun, fighting the galaxy's most insanely murderous species. Even if she survived, he probably wouldn't.



Just something to remember you by, if nothing else.





Chapter 35




Aille received a priority communication from Pluthrak that night. He had already surrendered to dormancy, but came fully aware when Yaut's shadowy form appeared beside his pile of dehabia. He brushed at his ears, shook out his whiskers, and stood. The situation's flow was even more urgent than it had felt earlier. He had fully expected contact from his kochan, though not so soon.



He followed the fraghta through the corridors of the palace, wondering if Tully would be successful in swaying the Resistance. Caitlin remained back in the quarters he'd appropriated, along with Willard Belk and Dr. Kinsey, all three utterly dormant at the moment with that peculiar unresponsiveness that made their species so vulnerable to nighttime attack.



The temporary signal staff, two female techs provided by Terniary-Adjunct Chul, awaited him uneasily. They did not turn around when he entered, but the lines of their shoulders betrayed misgiving. One glanced up from the familiar sinuous Pluthrak sigil in the holo tank, then assumed neutrality, struggling to express no further opinion of what Aille's progenitors most likely had to say about his latest actions. It was a difficult stance to achieve under the circumstances, he was certain.



The older tech was out of Binnat, by her vai camiti, and no doubt familiar with this world and its complicated politics, both Jao and Terran. Light from the main image tank flickered across her snout. "Subcommandant," she said, her ears precisely neither up, nor down, "shall we clear the facility?"



"That would be appropriate," he told her. "I will notify you once your presence is again required."



Ears back, she left, drawing the remaining tech with her. Yaut stood gazing up at the waiting tank. "You risk much by this course of action. Do you want me to compose a return message and plead on your behalf? I can verify the extreme speed at which decisions have been forced upon you."



Aille considered. But, despite the risks, he sensed the existence of possibility here, where there had been none before—a chance to be of use in a truly meaningful, even unique way. "No."



Yaut released the message from the buffer and stood back, his ears doubtful.