The Morcai Battalion: The Pursuit. Diana Palmer

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СКАЧАТЬ all vegetarians.”

      “Not quite all,” Hahnson replied. “I have it on good authority that Professor Dupont—excuse me, Ambassador Dupont—is quite fond of a good steak. Although I don’t know about his daughter’s dietary habits.” He frowned. “Do you dine with them?”

      Mekashe shook his head. “I hesitate to share such intimate knowledge of our culture, even with humans to whom I grow close. Our comrades in the Holconcom already know that we eat our food raw and whole.”

      “It might be a conversation killer over dinner with humans who don’t know that,” Hahnson murmured drily.

      “Of a certainty.” He hesitated. “I was on leave when Dtimun had the Cehn-Tahr reveal themselves to their crewmates. Do you remember when the human contingent of the Holconcom saw us as we are for the first time?” he added. “Was it...traumatic?”

      “Well, no,” Hahnson said. “Not actually. But you have to remember, all of us—us meaning my original self—and you, were in the Rojok prison camp, Ahkmau, together. We had the memory of the sacrifices and horror of that place. It outweighed any surprise at the real face of the Cehn-Tahr. We were so fond of all of you by then that it wouldn’t have mattered to us if you’d had two heads and three legs.”

      Mekashe smiled. “As we became fond of all of you. I do have memories of the prison camp, because I was a member of the Holconcom at the time, although a very junior one. It was traumatic. There were many atrocities.”

      “They were nightmarish,” Hahnson said. He studied Mekashe’s face in the Tri-D setup and frowned slightly. “Is there a more pressing reason that you need the dravelzium?” he asked delicately.

      Mekashe hesitated. “I haven’t experienced any of the mating behaviors,” he replied. “However...I held Jasmine’s hand and I think I bruised it. She is delicately built.”

      Hahnson smiled. “Normal humans are weaker than Cehn-Tahr. You might consider disabling some of your microcyborgs. Just to be on the safe side.”

      He frowned. He had no microcyborgs. Just as Dtimun had the advanced genetic restructuring, so did Mekashe. He had wholeheartedly accepted the modifications, without hesitation, in the past, when he joined the military as an adolescent, shortly before the deaths of both his parents.

      The ship alarms sounded. Hahnson glanced at his computer console. “Sorry, have to run. We’re chasing insurgents in the Eridanus system. I hope we can avoid Eridanus Three. Even if Kanthor’s there, we could be eaten by some of his less welcoming brothers,” he added with a chuckle, making reference to the giant cats, the galot, from which Cehn-Tahr had gained genetic material, including psychic abilities. Kanthor was Dtimun’s childhood playmate.

      “That would be unfortunate,” Mekashe replied. He grinned. “In such case, you should all consume vegetables before you make port. No self-respecting galot will eat a vegetarian, on principle.”

      Hahnson laughed out loud. “I’ll remind everybody. Listen, I’ll get this package right to your holo printer. And good luck!”

      “Thank you.”

      He cut the connection, and then worried about what Hahnson had said. He had no microcyborgs to disable. Hahnson had no need to know about his personal physiology, because there was always a Cularian surgeon aboard ship, who dealt with the Cehn-Tahr and Jebob and even Rojok casualties that sometimes were lifted by the Morcai to medical ships. Hahnson didn’t know that Mekashe needed no augmentation of his true strength. He wondered why he would need to weaken himself. Were humans so fragile?

      He recalled Jasmine’s look of pain when his hand had tightened on hers the night before and grimaced. Apparently, he was going to have to modify his strength in order not to harm her. Well, the dravelzium would suffice, he was certain. He just had to restrain his enthusiasm.

      * * *

      HAHNSON’S PACKAGE APPEARED minutes later. Mekashe opened it and read the instructions carefully to make sure he understood the proper procedure for administering the drug.

      “Be careful of the dosage,” Hahnson cautioned in a holomessage that accompanied the dravelzium. “Too little can be as dangerous to her, and too much can make you very drowsy. I’d start with one cc and see how it affects you. I’d do it in private, as well.” Hahnson grinned. “You don’t want to pass out and have her dragging you back to your quarters by a leg.”

      Mekashe laughed uproariously at the image that presented itself. He took the precious discs and put them in his personal safe. One could never be too careful with powerful drugs. He saved out one of the 1-cc discs for later, just before the opera. He’d never anticipated an evening so much. Already, Jasmine had become part of his life.

      * * *

      HE DRESSED CAREFULLY in his most formal suit, a black one that flattered his pale golden skin and black hair. He looked very correct, he told himself, smiling at his virtual reflection. His hair, thick and soft, was in a conventional cut, like the humans wore. When he transformed to his natural form, it was like a mane that swept back from his face and down his back. Like his cousin Rhemun’s, it was gloriously curly, a genetic legacy from their forefathers.

      Unlike Rojoks, whose hair signified rank by its length, Cehn-Tahr had only personal preference to consider. Mekashe had enjoyed long hair when he noticed that Dr. Edris Mallory seemed entranced by Commander Rhemun’s long, curly black hair that he wore to his waist in back. But growing his hair hadn’t provoked the same reaction in Edris, who was in love with Rhemun. It had been a huge disappointment to find that the pretty little blonde physician didn’t share his infatuation.

      Now, however, he didn’t mind. He had Jasmine, who was the embodiment of dreams. He looked forward to the opera, which he’d never attended in his life. He’d heard some of his comrades bewail the experience as earsplitting misery which they endured because they were fond of their shipmates. Mekashe was going to keep an open mind. It wasn’t the affair, it was the company that he was going to keep that warmed his heart.

      He presented himself at Jasmine’s door precisely when the ship’s intercommunications hailed the six bells the Duponts had told him about.

      Jasmine opened the door, and Mekashe’s breath sighed out in wonder.

      She was the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen in his life. She wore gold, a soft fabric that fell in folds to her ankles, with a high neckline and short sleeves. Over it was a cape of the same material, secured by a white fur collar and clasp. The fur smelled of mammal. He’d read that the humans still wore fur accessories for fashion, although these were Tri-D creations, not taken from live creatures.

      “Is it...all right?” Jasmine asked worriedly, because his expression was troubling.

      “You look quite incredibly beautiful,” he said in a soft, deep tone. “You take my breath away.”

      She beamed. Her pale blue eyes sparkled like jewels. “Thank goodness. I was afraid I’d dressed inappropriately.” She grimaced. “The salesman said it was rather risqué.”

      He frowned.

      “Daring,” she modified. She flushed.

      “Why?” he asked, because he could see no evidence of that.

      “Well...it’s this.” She turned around. Her beautiful, smooth back СКАЧАТЬ