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Free tried to tear his gaze from Darsey, but it seemed impossible. His wife murmured something in his ear, but he hardly knew what. The evening couldn’t possibly get any worse.

  He finally turned to Clear with a smile he knew was distracted, but was also the best he could manage. She squeezed his forearm warmly and then left. She merged with the crowd and disappeared to do… something.

  Free briefly wondered what, but that was irrelevant so long as she was happy. He would always keep her happy.

  Which meant he needed help. There must be some cure for his present madness, but only one person would know. He searched the room for Lady Grace and saw her sitting in a circle of acolytes and crew. She had them all laughing, even his hardened Tactical Senior, so she must have been telling some of her more scurrilous Court stories.

  Free made his way around the dancers and the circle opened at his approach.

  “Would you care to dance, Lady?” Free requested and the old kres cackled delightedly. “I'm most serious.”

  “Hish, my dear. We've no wish to make your wife jealous.”

  “I repeat, Grace, that I'm serious. Clear will doubtless understand and at this moment she's busy. I've a support field ready for you and I promise to move most slow. Shall we?”

  Free offered his hand and the old lady examined it suspiciously. He offered a smile too and she sniffed, before placing her withered claw in his grasp. A glow flowed from his wrist to encase his partner and her feet came off the floor in response. She rose and floated over petals, wafted into the dance by the young leader. Startled glances followed the couple and she began to chuckle.

  “What a charming idea. You're crew seem quite shocked.”

  “I don't usually dance.”

  Grace laughed harder and when she tipped her head back one of Free’s fronds snuck between them, to surreptitiously touch hers.

  Can you help me?

  Grace kept smiling, but her mental response was guarded. How?

  I fear I might be bonded.

  Good news, surely.

  Not to my wife.

  The old woman stiffened in his arms, to stand somewhat straighter, but her smile remained in place. Tell me.

  When I first greeted Darsey, it was strange. My skin burned and my chest was so tight I could hardly breathe. If I brush past her it feels, wonderful.

  A moment, child. They continued to waft through the dancers, but Free felt the heat of a scan against his palm. I fear it's true. You've bonded with the alien.

  They circled in genuine silence for several seconds and Free knew his mind was leaking grief and horror, but it was impossible to stop.

  Isn't Wing bonded to her? How is this possible? At first I thought she must be a biological weapon. Something aimed at kres.

  But no longer?

  No. I've felt her mind. She loves him.

  Indeed, but you were right. For you the girl is a weapon.

  Free hissed and Grace chuckled to cover the inappropriate sound. She's not deliberately destructive. Her pheremones do lock with yours, as well as your cousin's, but I don't believe such was planned. I gather her people are normally pheremone free.

  Then how?

  She absorbed cells from Wing and they've changed to suit her body. Her hands seem to have pheremone glands that were once his. I believe you were also caught, because you and Wing are so similar.

  Chemically similar? Because we're cousins?

  Genetically and you are more than cous-

  Free stopped, nearly collecting another couple, but completely distracted by the thought Grace had tried to repress. “More than cousins? What do you mean?”

  The old lady tugged at her young partner and he returned them both to motion. Nothing of note she thought brusquely. You've more urgent issues and decisions to make.

  What decisions? I assumed I was pheremone bonded to my wife. How could I have been so wrong?

  Grace squirmed in Free’s arms as if he was tickling her. Naivety. Youth. Stupidity. They’re all much the same and tend to come from inexperience. You were excited by a new attraction and a fresh relationship. Such always offer an easy thrill.

  Free tightened his frond around the old lady’s in fresh anguish. Clear’s involvement is your fault. We should have waited to wed.

  That was my doing, Grace agreed without a hint of regret. But it did have one positive result.

  I should hope for more than one. I love my wife. How can I hurt her? I'll stay true to Clear, as long as she wants me.

  Free stopped thinking. He seemed to have no words left, only feelings, while he turned and turned in a scented vortex of loss and confusion. He let the dance take him and withdrew his frond, but one of Grace's strands darted forward to renew contact.

  A most noble decision, dear one. The temptation to try to win Darsey must be great. However, this path will cause less pain for all. Especially as Clearwing now carries your child.

  Free stopped again and this time no nudging could shift him. “You're sure? I'll not tolerate some game to make me do as you wish. Not about this.”

  “Indeed not. I’d never lie about a child. The scan is fresh. I took it during the ceremony. I was bored.”

  “You were the celebrant!”

  “Your point?”

  “I think it’s more relevant that Clear was distracted, giving you the chance to nosy-beak.”

  The old lady ignored his accusation, to instead send Free the results of the scan. He released her to study it closely, while around them other couples also parted, as the first dance came to an end.

  “A daughter,” he breathed and for a moment his mind shared joy with Grace, but that warm contact was suddenly swamped by horror.

  A frond scream ripped through their minds and froze everyone in the room. It was followed by a real scream, raw enough to make Free flinch. What the hail was happening on his ship?

  53

  Betrayed