CassaSeries

Chapter Seven-2

“Have you tried Jtal?” Athee said, holding up her glass.

“No, I haven’t.”

She held it out for him to sample and Byron hesitated. “I’ve not even had a sip yet,” Athee promised. And I assure you it’s not poisoned.

Byron took the glass from her hands and raised it to his lips. The difference in quality struck him immediately. This was the good stuff.

“Knew you’d like it,” she said, retrieving her glass and setting it on the table. “Now, I believe you promised me a dance.”

“One! And you better make me look good.”

Athee’s expression was one of amusement. Before she could respond, Mevine’s voice broke into their conversation.

“Damn, have you tried the Jtal?” he gasped, coming to an abrupt halt at Byron’s side. His eyes widened as Byron and Athee turned to face the young man.

“Officer Byron, I’m sorry,” he stammered, his speech further impeded by his state of intoxication.

“That’s all right, Mevine,” Byron answered. “Can you watch Athee’s drink while we dance?”

Mevine stood at attention, the movement causing the liquid in his glass to slop over the edge. “Yes, sir.”

Byron let Athee lead him onto the dance floor. She positioned his hands and instructed him to follow her movements.

You taught me how to fly a shuttle, now I’ll teach you how to dance.

Her comment elicited a smile from Byron. Fair enough.

The music began and she stepped to the left. He followed her movement, feeling self-conscious. Athee projected her next move, visualizing the steps in his mind. With that assistance, he mirrored her actions with more accuracy. Allowing her to guide him with her thoughts, Byron’s confidence grew with each step. Smiling at his partner, he realized that she was grinning in return.

You don’t feel foolish, do you? Athee thought.

Straightening his back to his full height, Byron eyed her with suspicion. Not unless you intend to embarrass me.

Not tonight anyway.

The tempo picked up and Byron was again forced to concentrate on her mental guidance. He followed Athee as they glided across the dance square, weaving around the other couples with ease. By the time the music stopped, he’d mastered the steps.

Offering a round of applause for the musician’s skillful playing, they returned to the table. Mevine flashed Byron a foolish grin. Feeling strangely self-conscious, Byron avoided meeting his eyes. Athee retrieved her drink and c****d her head at Byron.

“Would you like a glass of Jtal?” she said.

Byron nodded and she pressed her drink into his hands. “Take mine. I’ll get a fresh glass.”

Before he could protest, she whirled away and vanished into the crowd. Sinking onto the bench, Byron took another sip. It was by far the best spirit of the evening, smooth and not too sweet. He wished he’d discovered it first.

Setting his glass on the table, he noticed Mevine staring at him. The young man grinned, mischievous thoughts dominating his mind.

“Is that the pilot you’ve been training?” he said, enunciating his words with care.

“Yes, that’s Athee.”

“You like her, don’t you?”

Byron leaned his arm on the table. “Mevine, she’s a Tgren.”

“She’s really pretty,” the lad offered.

“She’s also the prefect’s niece,” he said with exasperation.

“And she obviously likes you,” Mevine countered, gesturing with a wide sweep of his arm.

Byron leaned away and grasped his glass. There was no arguing with the lad in his present condition, though he did ponder Mevine’s observation. He’d not considered Athee’s interest anything but a desire to satisfy her own curiosity regarding flying and her psychic abilities. If the intrigue extended beyond their professional relationship, Byron didn’t want to encourage the situation.

Athee returned, a fresh drink in her hand. “Have you explored the booths around the courtyard?” When Byron shook his head, she extended her hand. “Let me point out the finer delights of Ktren then.”

With reluctance, he accepted her hand and rose to his feet. Byron glanced at Mevine, reluctant to leave the young man alone. If he was to explore the grounds with Athee, he preferred an escort as well.

“Can you walk?” Byron asked, suppressing his skepticism.

Mevine arose, grasping the edge of the table to steady his actions. “I can walk,” he declared, his fingers curling around what remained of his drink.

The men followed Athee as she led them around the courtyard. Byron had little use for possessions, but he feigned interest so as not to insult his Tgren hostess. Mevine’s fascination seemed genuine and he asked questions at every booth. They stopped often to speak with others attending the festival. Many reflected intrigue at his choice of company, but no one questioned the pilot or Athee. Byron hoped to avoid an encounter with the prefect. The man would not approve of the Cassan occupying his niece’s time.

They were drawing closer to the musicians when Erenta approached Athee. He exchanged pleasantries with Byron and Mevine before asking Athee to dance. She glanced at Byron and he gestured toward the center court.

“By all means, don’t let me stop you,” he said. Recalling Athee’s previous comments concerning the young man, Byron doubted Erenta would hold her attention for long. She regarded her fellow pilot as a friend, nothing more. Judging from Erenta’s eager expression, he still entertained hopes of changing her mind.

Byron and Mevine located a table and grabbed the remaining two seats. Scanning the revelers, Byron surmised the majority of Ktren’s population was in attendance. A few Cassans were in evidence, clustered in small, segregated groups. He caught sight of Illenth, deep in conversation with a Tgren man, and admired the officer’s ability to blend with the natives. After many months in the Tgren sunshine, he even looked like one of the locals.

“You’re going to dance with Athee again, aren’t you?” Mevine inquired.

Byron’s attention shifted to the boy. “I only promised her one dance,” he said, finishing his drink.

“Just one?”

Mevine’s tone bordered on disrespect and Byron frowned, allowing his displeasure to project. At once he sensed regret in the lad’s thoughts.

“Sir, I mean, you shouldn’t waste the opportunity,” Mevine stammered, sinking in his seat. “She’s pretty. I’m sure many others are vying for her attention.”

“I wish them luck then,” Byron stated, choosing to let the young man’s remark slide.

Athee returned without Erenta. She paused at Byron’s side, as if expecting him to rise. He held his ground, staring at the Tgren woman in defiance. He desired another dance with her, but didn’t want to give Athee the satisfaction.

Mevine suddenly rose to his feet. “Athee, I’m not very good, but I’d be honored to dance with you.”

Flashing a smug grin at Byron, she nodded in acceptance. Showing amazing agility for one so full of spirits, Mevine grasped her hand and walked Athee onto the court.

Byron watched the couple with an interest that bordered on concern. Mevine was awkward with his steps and clung to Athee for balance. Irritation rose in his chest as he watched the Tgren woman dance with his young friend. Mevine’s actions did not please Byron. He might not be willing to acknowledge her intrigue, but that didn’t mean he wanted Mevine to show interest, either.

Uttering a bark of laughter, Byron reached for his empty glass. You fool, you’re jealous, he thought, rising to seek a refill of his drink.

His mood was settled when the couple returned. Point taken, he thought in a private exchange with Mevine. And dance with her again at your own risk.

The young man heeded his warning and went in search of another drink. Athee continued to guide Byron around the vendor’s booths, securing refills of their glasses after the second stall. Unlike the other beverages, Jtal was not free. The man serving drinks did not charge Athee or even ask for consideration. Byron decided there were advantages to her company.

The thought of enjoying more than free drinks also crossed his mind. If Mevine’s assessment proved accurate, Byron could end the evening with some physical pleasure. His earlier misgivings were muted by the amount of wine now flowing through his system.

“Tell me more about your world,” she said before taking a sip of her wine.

“What would you like to know?” Byron asked.

“Which of the two home worlds is yours?”

Her question surprised Byron. He didn’t realize Tgrens had access to such information. Considering the amount of Tgren history contained in the databanks, it was only fair these people knew a little about the race now occupying their land.

“I grew up on Cassa.”

Athee’s puzzled expression caught his eye. Lips pressed together, she tilted her head.

“But is it home?”

Byron kept his gaze facing forward. “Not really. I’ve been back a few times, whenever the Rennather is on leave. Even spent some time on Harenna, Cassa’s sister planet. But my home is on the Rennather.”

“You feel at ease on a spaceship?”

“I’ve spent almost twenty-one years on a spaceship. It’s comfortable.”

Byron pressed closer to Athee as he allowed a group of Tgrens to pass. He sensed her enjoyment as their bodies touched. Byron realized that if he wanted anything to come of this evening, he needed to instigate some of the conversation.

“So, tell me about you,” he said, clearing his throat. “What are your goals?”

Athee’s smile encompassed her entire face. “I’ve always pushed myself to the limit, but after meeting your people, I realized those limits were very restrictive. Now that I know I have mental abilities, I want more. I want the opportunity to discover my potential…my real limits.”

Flashing a wry grin, she winked.

I want to do what you do!

You want to explore the universe?

I do, but, she thought with hesitation, more than that, I want to fly a fighter plane like yours.

And I bet you’d make a damned fine pilot, Byron thought, shielding his assessment from Athee.

Her comment further solidified Byron’s opinion of the female pilot and drew him closer. He remained with Athee all evening, and even allowed her to entice him onto the dance square on two more occasions.

The crowds had begun to disperse when Byron decided to call it a night. He realized he’d enjoyed himself this evening. Athee was interesting and knowledgeable. Byron had learned a great deal about Tgren and its customs during the course of the evening. Athee liked to talk, but it was not idle chatter or inane observations. Her words held purpose; a quality Byron appreciated.

The exchange with Mevine had run through his head the remainder of the evening. He’d hoped for some female companionship while on Tgren. Byron had not considered the prefect’s niece a viable source–there were too many variables. He was there to train Athee, not court the woman. Korden would not approve and Orellen’s reaction might involve a slow death. Despite his attraction to the young woman, the consequences were too great to risk involvement.

However, after a relaxing evening in her company, Byron’s resolve to maintain distance began to slip. He felt comfortable in her presence. Adorned in feminine attire, Athee’s curves certainly held his attention. As Mevine had observed, she liked him. Byron wanted nothing more than to take advantage of a desirable and willing partner.

“Were you staying?” he asked, shielding the true purpose of his question from Athee.

She glanced at the square, still bustling with people. “I would, but I imagine my flight instructor will want to start at our normal hour tomorrow.”

“With a little effort, he might be persuaded to begin later than usual,” Byron offered in a casual manner.

“Oh really? I thought he was a rock when it came to schedules and flying.”

“He’s not as strict as you think.” Byron c****d his head and grinned. “Can I escort you home?”

Athee laughed and wrapped her hand around his arm. “Yes, you may.”

They exited the square. Athee led him down a narrow street. Light posts dotted the roadways and hung over doorframes, but Byron could see without their assistance. Moonlight streamed down from above, casting its glow on the white surface of the stone buildings. With a few drinks in his system, the scene morphed into something surreal.

“Sure you’ll be able to find your quarters again?”

“I’ve a good sense of direction.”

Athee made conversation as they walked. Byron tried his best to focus on her words and form intelligent responses, but his thoughts drifted. His physical receptors were filled with her feminine presence. The fingers wrapped around his arm sent jolts of desire down his spine. Her scent, mixed with a trace of sweat, enticed him further. Byron’s hopes for a satisfying end to the evening rose with each step as they drew near Athee’s dwelling. If the flying lesson began late tomorrow morning, so be it.

They reached a row of single-level buildings. Athee paused at one of the many doors that dotted the walls. She turned to him and smiled.

“I enjoyed your company tonight,” she said. Byron stepped closer.

“I’ve enjoyed yours.”

He sensed her open thoughts of desire, which fueled his own. Athee rested a hand on his chest, her posture relaxed, but expectant. He grasped her elbow and she edged forward, chin held high. Her eyes sparkled with intensity as he leaned closer. Byron no longer cared about protocol or restraint. He wanted Athee.

A loud bark of laughter, followed by giggles, interrupted their moment. Byron glanced at the two revelers as they passed. The girl was a Tgren, but the young man was Cassan. The lad met his eyes, and Byron recognized the ensign at once.

“Officer Byron,” the boy said in passing, ogling Athee. The girl on his arm grinned foolishly and giggled again.

The couple continued on their path. Byron’s attention returned to Athee, and she moved closer. However, the sight of the ensign had dampened his spirits. How many men from the Rennather had witnessed their involvement tonight? He had monopolized Athee’s time and left the festival in her company. If word got back to Commander Korden…

You i***t! You can’t do this, he thought, releasing Athee’s arm.

“I need to get back to the compound,” he explained, placing some distance between them. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Byron heard her disappointment and confusion pounding at his thoughts. Before she could voice a protest or question his actions, he retreated from the awkward scene. He did not slow his pace until he was within sight of the building that housed the Cassans. Byron felt relieved he’d escaped even as his male instincts protested his decision.

No, he thought, clenching his fists in frustration. Athee is off limits.

Entering the compound, Byron bounded up the stairs two at a time. He opened the first door on the left and entered his room. A single light burned from a tiny lamp by the bed. He surveyed the meager accommodations with disgust. He’d had the opportunity to sleep elsewhere and backed out due to fear.

Annoyed with the situation, Byron sank onto the small bed and rubbed his forehead. His entire body ached, and it wasn’t from an overindulgence of wine. The pain irritated him, like a suit chaffing his skin. And it was more than a lack of physical satisfaction that bothered him. It was the feelings that now stirred in his chest.

Damn it, you can’t get close to her, he thought. You can’t get close to anyone!