Starship Winter (David Conway 03) (5 page)

Then I saw what she was looking at, or rather who.

Darius Dortmund had stepped from a plinth across the dome, and was approaching a neighbouring stone. He was accompanied by an Elan. At first I thought the alien was Heanor, the Ambassador. But this one was smaller, and he seemed older, stooped, with threadbare patches on his shoulders and back.

“Who’s his friend?” I wondered aloud.

Hannah shook her head, watching the pair as they stepped up to a plinth and were instantly surrounded and concealed in a nimbus of emerald light.

“Come on,” I said, leading her towards the next plinth.

“David, look…” I followed her gaze. Dortmund was stepping away from the plinth he’d approached perhaps fifteen seconds ago, the alien at his side. Without pause they moved onto the next stone and were absorbed in a ball of citrus light.

We stood and watched and twenty seconds later the pair emerged, only to hurry on to the next plinth.

“Strange…” Hannah said, more to herself than to me.

I shrugged. “Maybe that’s all the time he needs to appreciate what the stones offer.”

Hannah pulled a pretty frown. “That’s not what’s strange, David. What’s odd is why, considering his disparagement of the exhibition, he should want to experience it at all?”

“Well, maybe he’s not only a megalomaniac but a hypocrite as well.”

We moved to a vacant plinth and stepped into a glow of brilliant white light.

For a timeless period we were bombarded by the emotion of love – alien love – which we found was very much like the terrestrial version. Two young Elan approached us, stared into our eyes, and communicated something of their feelings for each other; I was transported back to my youth, my first love, then to later life and my infatuation with my wife, and then Carlotta… I felt what the aliens felt for each other and drew appropriate correspondences from my own experience. I was overwhelmed, swept away with the heady, drugged euphoria of true love, and my senses were still reeling as we staggered from the plinth clutching each other.

“David,” Hannah whispered, “let’s not do any more. I need a drink. A strong one.”

We left the dome and crossed to the bar overlooking the water.

I returned with drinks from the bar. Hannah was fanning herself. “Whew… that was quite something.”

I gazed at her like a lovesick schoolboy. I could only nod.

I took her hand and gazed out to sea. What I felt for Hannah surprised me, considering the short time we had spent together. I knew what I’d felt for her before tonight’s exhibition, but the experience of the last stone had done something to accelerate and emphasise those feelings. I counselled caution. I told myself to take it easy; I did not want to suffer the grief that accompanied my last foray into romance… Which was ridiculous, of course, as there was no way my head could dictate to the desires of my heart.

I gathered from Hannah’s silence, as we drank and stared at the sequinned play of the waves below, that she was similarly affected.

We looked at each other. At the same time we spoke each other’s names, then laughed. I said, “I’m sorry. It’s just… that was quite something back there. It’s odd, I feel as if I’ve known you for months, years…”

She beamed with relief. “Thank God, David. Oh, I thought you were going to say you thought it was going too fast, that we need time to think about things.” She stopped. “Oh,
shit
!” she hissed the last word with venom, and I followed the direction of her gaze.

Dortmund and his alien friend were crossing the patio towards us. The off-worlder was clutching his customary scotch, the alien a tumbler of juice. The pair paused before us and Dortmund nodded coldly.

“Allow me to introduce Fhen,” he said. “Fhen, this is Lieutenant van Harben of the Mackinley police. And David Conway, the Opener of the Way…” He said this with something approaching a sneer.

The alien dipped on his bi-jointed legs. “I am pleased to meet you both. I have heard of you, David Conway.”

I was looking at Dortmund. He was staring at Hannah and his eyes never left her face.

“Fhen is my… my aide,” said Dortmund. “My guide to all things Elan.”

The alien said, “We met when Mr Dortmund was on Epiphany three years ago.”

“I went with the intention of experiencing the Epiphany Stones in their natural environment, untainted by…” Dortmund’s long fingers flicked a dismissive gesture over his shoulder towards the dome, “by such meretricious human… interference.”

“And what did you think?” I said.

The off-worlder shook his head. He was gazing out to sea now, perhaps aware that his attention to Hannah had been excessive. “To my great annoyance, I was not allowed access to the hallowed chambers.”

Hannah said, “Hence your interest now? I thought it odd that you should show so much enthusiasm tonight, when last night you were so dismissive.”

His gaze locked onto her again. “My criticism of a so-called work of art does not preclude my detailed study of it, Lieutenant.”

Fhen said, “Matt Sommers has created something which humans might experience, though it cannot be said to rival the effect of the stones in their natural setting.”

“The very fact that humans are human”, Dortmund said, “precludes their full understanding…”

I was about to say something along the lines that surely his understanding, being only human after all, would likewise be diminished, but Dortmund swept on, “Anyway, I am not here to discuss the pros and cons of the installation. For the period of my stay in Mackinley I have rented a villa in the hills overlooking the straits. I’m holding a little soirée there in a few days – details yet to be arranged – and I hope that you might attend. I promise”, he went on, “not to discuss the installation.”

Hannah did not flinch under his unwavering regard. She nodded. “That would be pleasant,” she said. “Wouldn’t it, David?”

I raised my glass in agreement.

Dortmund gave one of his rictus smiles, devoid of all sentiment. “Excellent. Fhen will be in touch with the details. Now,” he said, “come, Fhen…” He nodded to me, inclined his head at Hannah, then turned on his heel and entered the dome, the Elan trotting faithfully after him.

Hannah watched him go, looking puzzled.

“Why the hell does he stare at you like that?” I asked.

She shook her head. “I wish I knew. I’d like to think it was just because he was an arrogant, overbearing man, but I don’t know…”

We had one more drink, then left the exhibition centre and caught a cab. Outside her apartment in central Mackinley Hannah turned to me and said, “It’s been a wonderful night, David. Thank you so much.”

I reached out and took her hand. “Look… I hope you don’t mind. I mean, if you’re not doing anything this weekend, would you like to come up to Magenta? See the
Mantis
? I’ll give you a guided tour.”

Her smile expanded as I spoke and her eyes glowed. She said, almost before I’d finished, “Of course I would, David. That’d be great.” She leaned forward, kissed my cheek, then slipped from the cab and hurried up the steps to her apartment.

I sank back into the seat as the cab carried me up the coast, smiling to myself all the way.

— FOUR —

I spent all Saturday morning cleaning the
Mantis
. I have my friends around roughly once a week for a meal and between times I let my domestic duties slip. That morning I scrubbed and cleaned, re-arranged the furniture several times, and even played half a dozen different music-needles on the ship’s sound system – eventually selecting some mood jazz from one of the colonies. Afterwards I sat on the balcony with a beer and considered Hannah van Harben, slim and blonde and smiling in my mind’s eye, and wondered if I were investing too much emotion in the relationship at this early stage.

There was a time, a few years ago, when I might have held back from getting too involved with a beautiful woman. But I had been on Chalcedony for more than seven years now, with only one intimate relationship to boast of.

That brought me up short. What had Darius Dortmund said, just the other day, about my being lonely…?

That train of thought was interrupted by the chime of my com. I answered, dreading that it might be Hannah calling with some excuse not to visit.

Maddie smiled out of the tiny screen. “David. We’re going to the Jackeral for lunch today. Matt’s managed to drag himself away from the exhibition. We were wondering if you’d like to join us?”

“Well… Hannah’s coming up at midday. I’m not sure what we’ll be doing. I’ll see what she says.”

Maddie beamed at me. “Play it by ear. Come if she’d like to. We’ll be there around one.”

I smiled. “I’ll do that, Maddie.”

“Hannah’s a nice person, David. I hope it goes well.”

“I’ll second that. Catch you later.”

I cut the connection and scanned the section of the coast road observable from the balcony.

Thirty minutes later a silver two-seater drove into view, pulled off the road and eased itself to a halt beside the
Mantis
.

I left the ship and was approaching the car when Hannah climbed out.

She held out her hands to me and I took them. We kissed cheeks, my heart racing, and I backed off and swept my arm in a gesture taking in the squat bulk of the starship. “Well, what do you think?”

“As beachside domiciles go, David, it’s pretty damned striking. There was no mistaking it for any old villa when I came up the coast road. I like the colour scheme.”

I’d recently had it repainted in the red and silver livery of the Charlesworth Line. I told her this, and went on, “I often watched their ships take off and land at Vancouver spaceport.” I shrugged and slapped the ship’s flank. “This brings back memories. Anyway, come inside. I’ll show you around.”

We walked up the ramp and took the elevator to the second floor, which consisted of the bridge, now a lounge, a small kitchen and a couple of spacious bedrooms, which I guess had been the crew’s quarters back when the ship had flown between the stars.

She stood in the centre of the lounge and turned, wide-eyed. “David… why, this is magnificent. I love the décor.”

“All my own work,” I said. “Actually, that’s a lie. Maddie helped me out.”

On Maddie’s suggestion I’d repainted the bulkhead cream and the curving walls of the nose cone a pale jade; I’d hung the walls with tapestries and prints from all over the Expansion. A smoke sculpture from Yho, Betelgeuse III, played in one corner, and opposite stood a canted slab of emotion crystal, a gift from Matt.

Hannah tipped her head to one side, smiling her delicious, curved-lip smile. “Even the music’s wonderful. Isn’t it something from Tourmaline in Vega?”

“You like it? It’s among my favourites.”

“I love the stuff coming out of Tourmaline at the moment.”

We chatted about music for a while. I asked if she wanted a drink, and poured a couple of beers. We drank them on the balcony, looking out over the magenta sands and the calm circle of the bay.

She curled up on a recliner and smiled at me. “Tell me, David. How do you spend your time?”

Déjà vu
…

Two years ago, Carlotta Chakravorti-Luna had asked me the very same question. I banished her ghost and answered, “I lead a simple life, Hannah. I walk, read, see my friends a lot.” I slapped my stomach. “I probably spend more time at the Jackeral than’s good for me.”

“A simple life’s good, David. That’s what I hope to find here.”

“I suspect it’ll be a bit quieter than Rotterdam, anyway.”

She nodded. “Much. Rotterdam was intense. Do you know how many murders there were on Chalcedony last year?”

I blew out my lips. “On the entire planet? The population’s what… ten million? I don’t know… Fifty?”

“Five,” Hannah said. “Five. Can you imagine that? There are fifty killings in Rotterdam alone every weekend.”

“No wonder you opted for the quiet life.” I paused, then said, “I just hope you don’t find it too quiet.”

She shook her head. “I never liked big cities. The coast here ha s everything – great scenery, big-enough towns and cities, galleries and a thriving artists’ community. And if the Jackeral is as good as you claim…”

“It’s my spiritual home, Hannah. Speaking of which… Maddie called earlier. She and Matt and the others are having lunch there. I didn’t know if you’d want to join them…?”

“Why not? That would be lovely. But afterwards, David, would you drive me into the hills and show me the falls?”

“I’d be delighted,” I said, feeling just about as wonderful as it was possible to feel. “Right, I hope you have an appetite.”

* * *

Matt and Maddie, Hawk and Kee were already at the Jackeral when we arrived. They’d claimed the corner table on the patio overlooking the bay and had started on the beer.

“David, Hannah,” Matt said. “Great you could make it.”

“Try keeping us away.” I dragged up a couple of chairs. “We haven’t been out as a group at the Jackeral for ages.”

“That’s my fault,” Matt admitted to Hannah as she sat beside him. “I dragged Hawk and Kee off to Epiphany over a month ago.”

Kee leaned forward, staring large-eyed at Hannah. Kee was in her thirties, but looked about fifteen. For the most part, Hawk’s liaison with a member of the native aliens was accepted by humans and Ashentay alike; only the occasional off-world tourist had commented adversely.

Now Kee said, “But it was magnificent, Hannah! I think Chalcedony – or rather Ashent, as we call it – is beautiful, but then it is my planet, yes? But Epiphany might even be more beautiful.”

“Then it must be some place,” Hannah said.

I raised my glass. “To old friends,” I said, and smiling at Hannah, “and to new. Cheers.”

We drank, and Maddie fell into conversation with Hannah while I asked Matt how the exhibition was going. “We were there last night. Had to queue to get in.”

“It’s been the most popular thing I’ve done for years,” he said. “It’s just a pity that Dortmund’s shown up.”

Conversation around the table ceased at the sound of his name. “What is it with him?” I asked. “He was there again last night, sampling the stones for a few seconds then moving on.”